#we’d probably even have some left over | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wri0thesley · 1 year ago

Text

lion tamer - jing yuan x reader (12.4k)

it's taken for granted you'll take the job that nobody else wants, whilst the general is indisposed. you just didn't expect things to turn out like this.

cw: not sfw, minors dni. chubby reader. reader is afab but no gendered terms are used. descriptions of raw meat (animals eating), food, pining, fingering, cunnilingus, coming inside. pet names including little bird, darling, little thing. reader is implied to be shorter than jing yuan.

This was a commissioned work.

It’s a quiet whisper, at first - gossip among the lower-downs of the Luofu. You hear it on the fringes and the edges, but you dismiss it as really none of your business; you’re already working harder than most everyone else thanks to the small matter of your far shorter lifespan, and you don’t intend to set yourself back by listening to idle gossip. You have other things to concentrate on; the busywork that you’ve been assigned to as a junior (very junior) member of the Seat of Divine Foresight.

Really, though they call you a ‘non-administrative support specialist’, you know what you really are; a general dogsbody, somebody to pick up all of the pieces that others sweep by. Still; just getting a position here means you’ve outdone most people, and you hold in your heart the idea that you could get even further up this ladder of success if you simply tried hard enough. You’ve heard tell that even some of the long-life species haven’t managed to make it as far as actually working within the Seat itself, so really . . . you can’t help but feel a little proud of yourself.

Which is why you choose to ignore the swirling rumour about your esteemed Arbiter-General until you’re called into a meeting with Yong Hai himself.

(The General is sick, the rumours say. The General may not last another day. The General’s laziness has caught up with him, the General may not make it, and what will we all do then--)

“So,” Yong Hai says, all business. “You’ve probably heard about it already.”

There’s a flare of disquiet in your gut; that the gossip and the rumours you’ve been so steadfastly avoiding are true. You don’t know what the Luofu would do with General Jing Yuan; you cannot imagine the ship and the world without him, when he has been such a stolid presence - and the way that the general public will react doesn’t bear thinking about--

“Stop that,” Yong Hai says, with an amused look in his eye even as he fights to keep his mouth in a firm, commanding line. “It’s not as bad as people are saying. The General has simply . . . contracted something that he isn’t bouncing back as quickly from as we’d hoped. We’ve had to send him off to the Alchemy Commission for a few days, just to see if we can work out how to help . . .” The secretary catches himself, clearly remembering he’s talking to someone who amounts to little more than custodial staff. He coughs. “Anyway. It’s left us in a bit of a conundrum, and after some discussion, we think you’re qualified to handle it.”

You tilt your head to the side as you try and think what you could possibly do to assist in this matter.

You’re no healer; you’re no nurse. You can’t help them figure out how to cure the General, you’re not equipped to sit at his bedside and mop his feverish brow (your cheeks go hot and your face burns at the very thought of it). You certainly can’t take over any of Jing Yuan’s actual duties. The idea of you as any kind of military strategist is laughable--

“How can I help, Sir?” You ask, partly because that is what’s expected of you and partly because you really have no idea what use you’ll be in the situation.

“Ah,” he says, and then he coughs again - he looks into the corner of the room, as if he’s begging someone to help him, and you remember that he and his sister are most often found together. But here, it’s just the two of you, and he has nobody to help him to break whatever news he’s going to break to you. You hope it’s not going to involve cleaning up a sick-room; you’re really not good with that kind of thing--

“We need somebody to tend to his home affairs,” Yong Hai says, eventually. “He . . . Ah, look, I’m going to come out and say it. General Jing Yuan has a penchant for taking in stray animals and the like, and he only even agreed to let himself be looked at on the caveat we had to promise to find someone to look after them.”

You think of the statues of lions that decorate the place, and you feel a trickle of cold sweat down the back of your spine. You hope desperately that the secretary isn’t implying that you’re about to quite literally be fed to the lions--

“Stop looking like that!” He says, exasperated. “All of them are perfectly tame, and you’ll be in no danger. He has a . . . lion that he’s incredibly fond of. Several birds. And . . . ah,” he looks embarrassed again. “He’s informed us he usually leaves out a veritable feast for any other neighbourhood strays on his balcony, and he was very worried that they weren’t going to be properly nourished whilst he was away.”

Finches. You can do that. Neighbourhood strays - cats and dogs, you suppose - are all very well. But the lion . . .

That doesn’t matter. Yong Hai seems to have reached the end of his meeting with you, to his tangible relief. He’s already bustling about his desk and looking longingly towards the closed door.

“A new schedule’s been drawn up for you and sent to you already,” he says. “All of the relevant information should be in the attachments! Have fun, won’t you? The General is so very fond of his pets, you see--”

Your phone beeps as if it is punctuating his point; the secretary beams at you, and you get the distinct impression you are being told to put your best foot forward and roll with the punches. ‘Get on with it’, as someone without any manners might say.

“Understood,” you say, and you force yourself to smile and look on the bright side of things even if you’re sure you’re going to have nightmares about being eaten alive by a lion tonight. This is a post that the General wanted filled personally! This is almost as personal as someone can get to the General, actually; it appears you’ll be working in his actual home! It’s a . . . a step up! A stepping stone!

You force yourself to ignore that it is actually very much a case of sticking the lowest ranked person (and someone well-known for taking on as much as they can with cheerful aplomb, due to your fear of ever really saying ‘no’) onto the job that nobody else wants to do.

“I’ll do my best,” you say, and Yong Hai beams at you even as he gestures for you to go and get to grips with your new role.

Well.

You have no other choice then, really, but to Get On With It.

You are quite frankly terrified the next day, when you turn up to your newest duty. The documents sent to you had instructed you to pick up raw meat for the lion from the General’s most trusted supplier before you went up to his chambers; apparently, birdseed and cat-and-dog food was kept there, but the lion’s appetite could not so easily be sated. You have to give yourself a pep-talk before all of it; have to convince yourself that running away from this new responsibility would be both awful for your career prospects and terribly cruel.

“Ah,” says the supplier, when you turn up and tremulously hand over your phone so he can see the attachments displayed on the screen giving you this new Meat Power, “So you’re looking after the waifs and strays and Mimi, then?”

“Mimi?” You ask, your voice tremulous, and he laughs as he hands over two incredibly full buckets of raw meat. It’s a good job you’re not squeamish.

“That’s the lion,” he says. “The General tried to name her Snow Lion after he realised she wasn’t just going to be a pretty little white housecat, but . . . Mimi fits. You’ll see!”

The concept of Jing Yuan attempting to adopt a pretty little white house cat and being saddled instead with a huge lion, and having to continue to refer to the powerful beast as ‘Mimi’ despite his best efforts, keeps you entertained right up until you’re outside the door to the General’s chambers and you remember that a carnivorous predator awaits you on the other side of it.

“Well,” you say to yourself, hoisting the buckets up and taking a deep breath, “there’s no point delaying the inevitable. If I get eaten today . . .”

And you let the pass-key you’ve been given float against the sensor, until the ornate doors to Jing Yuan’s chambers slowly part and admit you into the Arbiter-General’s inner sanctum.

The first thing that you’re struck by is how it seems that the General left in a rush. The entire place, whilst not dirty, has an air of untidiness. You hear the cheeping of finches from the first room; excitement that their Master may have finally returned to play with them. You can’t help but feel sorry for them - from what Yong Hai has said, it may be quite a while before Jing Yuan is well enough to return to his home.

There are touches of the General everywhere, now that you’re looking. Delicate flowers (you’ve heard he likes small, delicate things, and you can’t help the nervous tug at your clothing as you consider just how indelicate you find yourself). Ceramics and porcelain that you fear are so fragile they may shatter even under your gaze. An unfinished game of star chess, a coffee cup left half-drunk . . . That last one could fetch a fine price in the black market. You’ve heard those traders hawking ‘tissues used by Helm Master Yukong’ or even ‘a book enjoyed by General Jing Yuan’s protege!’.

Before your mind can lead you too far down that dangerous path, though, the lady of the hour appears.

She’s beautiful.

You have to stop yourself gasping aloud. Any fears you might have had seem to fall to the wayside, unimportant, compared to the majesty of the lion before you; the pure white fur, the wise face, the mane that fluffs out from her. She’s pure white; lean, but perhaps with a little pouch at the tummy. Not a single snarl or tangle mars her fur, not a single speck of dirt upon her, like the false moon looking down upon the Luofu--

She sees that you’re holding two big buckets and seems to recognise them, because it’s barely a breath before her ears twitch and she pounces like a kitten, seemingly not realising that you are smaller than her owner and she is far larger than the average kitten is. All of the wind is knocked out of you as you cry out her name and are tackled to the ground.

You find yourself beneath the warmth of her body, a sweet scent emanating from her fur as if the esteemed General regularly bathes and shampoos her. Delighted, she sticks her snout right into one of the buckets. A low, pleased rumble emits from her throat as she works her teeth over the meat--

You reach up, hesitantly, with the one arm that isn’t pinned by the great weight of her. Your fingers hover for a moment, unsure of what to do - is she like a cat? Does she prefer chin scratches or ear scratches?

You settle for a very light pet at the side of her mane, just by her face. Her fur is just as soft as you had thought she would be - a lady who is clearly incredibly spoilt. Well-cared for. You have another flash of a vision of Jing Yuan - combing her mane, tying a shiny ribbon about her neck to match the ribbon he wears in his own hair.

Mimi pauses in her enjoyment of the food. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your senses on a sudden high alert - what if she didn’t like being touched like that? What if she’s about to mistake your hand for a part of the buffet you’ve brought her?

A moment that seems like an hour passes.

And then she leans into your hand with a pleased rumble-squeak-growl, her eyes closing in pleasure, and despite how your heart is beating and your legs are aching from the way she’s twisted them and trapped them beneath her . . . you smile.

For the first week, every time you let yourself into Jing Yuan’s space, you are alone aside from the animals he keeps there. Mimi launches herself at you, but you’ve learnt to sidestep and laugh and ruffle her mane, offering her choice little tidbits to curl up and gnaw on her food whilst you see to the strays that congregate on Jing Yuan’s balcony. They had taken a little longer to warm to you, but after the second day when it became clear if they wanted the same food Jing Yuan usually prepared they would have to come to you, they had thawed considerably. You leave them to their devices, and finish off with the finches.

They hop from place to place in their cage, cheeping brightly. Sometimes they hop onto your finger or your shoulder, looking at you like you’re the most wonderful being in the universe. Once one had hopped onto your head and you’d stayed stock-still for five minutes, afraid of disturbing it.

After all of the pets and animals are fed, you’ve gotten into the habit of sitting with them for a little while. Curling around Mimi and stroking her mane and her tail (you’ve braided it, actually, and told her how pretty she looks with little red ribbons in her fur as she blinked at you her slow, lazy blinks). Listening to birdsong. Letting the strays rub about your feet and imagining the Arbiter-General himself doing all of these mundane tasks.

It’s strange, to think of him as so . . . so much a real person. General Jing Yuan has always seemed a man of mystery and just a touch of romance to you; a long life species who has outlived almost everyone he’s ever worked with, who has steered the Luofu into glories and battled bravely and heroically against Abundance abominations for longer than you’ve been alive. The first time you’d met him, when you’d gotten your place at the Seat of Divine Foresight (before you’d quite found out how meagre your duties really were), you’d been utterly tongue-tied.

He’d been charming, naturally. Smiling and charismatic and low and pleasant-voiced, saying how glad he was to have you aboard and how he hoped you would enjoy your time here. There’d been, perhaps, a flash of sadness in his eye at the knowledge you were a short-life species-- but you’d quickly tried to dispel that notion, scolding yourself for your own romanticism. Jing Yuan is your colleague, your boss - better to not harbour such idealism, to make him into a storybook character instead of a man.

Still. It’s rather hard to imagine him out of breath, puffing and wheezing, after pulling the bucket Mimi had gotten her paw stuck in off of the silly lion’s foreleg before she sent herself into a panic.

You think that the menagerie that he keeps in his private quarters have grown fond of you in turn. The task that everyone had seemed to find so onerous quickly becomes one of your favourite parts of the day; there is something to be said about the healing properties to the soul of having a lion roll over to show you her tummy and wiggle enticingly until you give in to her and give her all of the rubs and tickles that she so clearly desires.

So for about a week and a half, everything chugs along; you fall into routine, and the animals recognise you in turn. They sometimes still crane their necks and heads hopefully around you to see if Jing Yuan is around (Mimi especially occasionally looks dejected at his absence, though her ears perk up once again as soon as she remembers the buckets you come bearing are filled with delicious morsels for her), but when it is just you they still seem somewhat satisfied.

Nobody gives you any warning that Jing Yuan has returned to his own rooms.

Which is why you walk into the main room with your buckets swinging on your arms, singing a silly little song you’ve composed for Mimi about how the meat is soon to be ‘delicious and yummy’ in her ‘full-up-tummy’, you’re so surprised to hear a velvet soft chuckle floating from the big circular sofa in the centre of it that you almost drop all of those delicious-and-yummy steaks and thighs all over Jing Yuan’s ornately tiled floor.

You stare at the sofa, your cheeks going all-over hot, as a mass of blankets moves and shifts and a slightly ruffled pale head emerges from them.

The General himself.

It’s obvious, looking at him, that he hasn’t been feeling his best. His normally tied up hair falls over his face in unstyled sweeps, there are dark circles beneath his eyes and a sharpness to his cheekbones that you have never noticed before. Instead of the armour you have grown so used to seeing him clad in, he wears civilian clothes; a loose shirt that shows off the lines of his throat, his collarbone.

Despite all of that, though, he is still the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Your heart still skips a beat. He takes you in for a moment, his face scrunched up as if he is not quite awake; and then, a small smile spreads over his handsome face.

“Don’t stop on my account,” he says, in that low, musical voice. “I’d like to know where the song has to go, after her tummy has been filled.”

“I’m so sorry,” you blurt out, awkward, nervous, unsure of what to say. “I-- nobody told me you’d be back, I can leave, I didn’t mean to--”

He holds up a lazy hand, the smile still on his face. His eyes are half-lidded, his overall look almost indulgent.

“Please,” he says. “I’m . . . better, but not fully recovered. I’ve been given strict instructions that I'm not to lift heavy objects or do anything more than relax for at least another week. I’d be much obliged - if it’s not too much trouble on top of your own duties, of course - if you could carry on seeing to my . . . what did they call it?” Another small, secret smile. “Ah yes. My little zoo.”

“I-if you’re sure . . .” You say, surprised to find when you say it aloud that you’re relieved. You truly have gotten attached to all of the animals, even in this short time.

Mimi butts your leg, impatient for her food, her huge paw petulantly tapping upon the floor. Jing Yuan laughs again, and you feel your stomach clench at the warm sound as it fills the room.

“Oh, she likes you,” he says, in delight. “I’ve never seen her be so patient with anyone but myself, you know.”

“She’s been friendly since I met her,” you reply, reaching down to scratch her behind her ears and to place the buckets somewhere she won’t make such a mess (though she’s actually a fairly fastidious eater, for someone with no thumbs; you suppose she’s so proud of her lovely white coat that she doesn’t want to risk staining it).

Jing Yuan hums in consideration, his smile not leaving his face, as he watches you pet Mimi and her affectionate head bump before she dives back into her food. As you move into the other sitting room - the one that the finches reside in - you hear more rustling, and as you gather the birdseed you’re surprised to see that Jing Yuan is following you, sloping afterwards determinedly. There’s a definite tilt to his walk - the walk of a man who’s been in bed for a week - and you can’t help but say something.

“Sh-should you be out of bed, General?” You wince at the slight admonishment in your tone, fearing he will think you’re scolding him - but Jing Yuan simply smiles.

“I need to check on my sweet little charges,” he says. “Come now. I’ve been in bed for days. Let me wander about my own rooms without worrying your pretty head too much about it, alright?”

It takes all of your grace not to turn into a pathetic, embarrassed mess at the easy way he says ‘your pretty head’ - somehow, you manage to keep your composure, keep some measure of poise, even as inside you feel yourself turn to mush.

He sits down upon a chaise by the birdcages as you reach in to fill the small bowls and scatter the feed, his eyes not leaving you for a second. He smiles when he sees a finch or two hop upon your hand to peck at the seeds and bits left in the crevices of your palm.

“A true animal whisperer,” he says, watching one of the more inquisitive finches hop up to your wrist and your forearm to tug teasingly at your elbow-length sleeves. “They’re not too fond of strangers, either.”

“I have been feeding them for a week, Sir,” you say to him, with a smile at the finch as you urge it off of your arm and back to the rest of its friends. “They’ve gotten used to me.”

He shakes his head, his hair falling about his shoulders, and you’re struck with the thought that he and Mimi even look similar. You’ve heard the old adage about how pet owners and their pets grow to look the same, of course, but you’d never realised quite how true it was until that moment and the sight of Jing Yuan doing a motion you’ve grown used to Mimi doing.

He follows, too, as you take food and water onto the balcony. As cats wind around first your ankles, and then his - as dogs wag their tails and lick at your hands.

“If I were a jealous man . . .” He says, laughing. “They must see something truly special in you.”

“Me?” You ask, aiming for a tinkly laugh but landing on ‘incredulous’. “No, they’re just sweet creatures. All of them are.”

He’s unerringly patient with the animals; his big hands tender as they scratch ears and tickle chins. Seeing the great General being so delicate makes your heart turn over in your chest; his big, scarred hands in direct opposition to the delicate bones and the soft fluff of all of the creatures that mass here.

“Don’t be so modest,” Jing Yuan says quietly in reply. “I’ve known some of these animals for years. If they didn’t think you were something special . . .”

Your cheeks are hot again. Somehow, in the course of this conversation, Jing Yuan has gotten closer and closer to you. Out here on the balcony, under the warm false sun of the Luofu, there’s nowhere for Jing Yuan to sit and watch - so he’s stood close to you. Close enough that you can see the warm gold amber of his gaze, the fan of his lashes, the mole high up beneath his eye. You swallow, and the sound is almost indecently loud even with the background mewls and barks and purrs.

“I’m glad that they found someone so able to do this for me,” he says, his voice still quiet. That single word, those single two syllables, somehow manage to be imbued with more meaning than you’d ever imagined they could be. “I’ll be looking forward to seeing you.”

“Just until you’re feeling a bit better,” you reply, cheeks still hot, throat still sore, heart still beating far too fast in your chest. You wonder what Jing Yuan is thinking as he looks down at you - if he has noticed your anxiety, the way that he seems to set you all aflutter. You hope he thinks it is merely because he is your superior, and not because it’s so very hard not to dwell on his looks and his warm voice and the surprisingly different persona that he shows when he’s doing this--

Jing Yuan is still smiling at you, from back on the sofa covered in his blankets with Mimi spread out protectively over his feet, as you foolishly wave goodbye and leave his chambers.

You get to witness Jing Yuan’s recovery firsthand. The first few days, he is still unsure of his own limbs; he still slowly lopes around the rooms. Once or twice, you come in to feed the animals and he stays wrapped within his blankets, Mimi only leaving his side to demand some cuddles and some meat from you.

Despite his illness, though, he always has time to talk to you. He always asks you how you are feeling, what you have been doing; he teases you for how the animals seem to recognise you just as well as him now. When one of the finches pecks at your cheek, he chuckles and says;

“Ah, wouldn’t we all like to give our little bird a kiss like that?”

You don’t know how to respond to that, ducking your head, muttering something unintelligible that wins another of his laughs. His words err on the edge of being flirtatious. Once or twice he compliments your outfit, your hair - how lovely you look today. You never know how to react to such things; you force yourself not to dwell on them, reminding yourself of Jing Yuan’s own looks and his position and trying to tell yourself not to get attached and that the General is merely trying to be polite.

One afternoon, he asks you to sit with him and have tea.

It would be rude of you to say no; not when he has placed two teacups before him, anticipating your acceptance, a plate of sweet treats in an amount that would be gluttonous even for him arranged with the tea service. So you try and gracefully position yourself across from him. You try and remember your manners as you take the cup by the handle, as you choose the least ornamented and sugary of the delicacies on offer--

(It’s hard not to remember being told not to indulge at all. You feel conscious of eating in front of him--)

“Have this one,” Jing Yuan says, as if he can read your mind, and he pushes towards you an intricately decorated little cake resplendent with sugar roses and ruffles. “It’s one of my favourites.”

Your mouth waters. You give him an embarrassed smile as he encourages you further, reaching over to pick it up himself and place it upon your plate instead of merely pushing it.

“Really?” You ask, trying to pick it up neatly. “It’s a bit more delicate than I thought you’d like. I suppose I imagined you liking things a little rougher--”

Your face goes hot as you realise what you just said, but Jing Yuan ignores the innuendo and simply smiles at you.

“Ah,” he says. “I like things that are . . . delicate. Smaller than me. So lovely to observe and enjoy, don’t you think?” His gaze doesn’t leave your face. You have never considered yourself delicate - the curves that you display have put an end to that - but under his eyes, you can’t help but think of the breadth of his shoulders and his height and think how a man like him could make even you feel small and breakable. “What do you think?”

The little cake is sweet on the tongue, flavoured with a hint of something you can’t quite name. Your eyes widen in surprise.

“It’s wonderful,” you tell him, swallowing the bite and enjoying how the taste lingers. “Truly.”

“I’m so glad you enjoyed it,” he says - and then, he reaches over the table. “You have something--”

You go stock-still, embarrassed and shocked at the intimacy of the gesture, as he uses his thumb to wipe a smudge of icing from the corner of your mouth. He keeps your gaze the whole time. It is something a lover does - it is not something you’d ever expected General Jing Yuan to do for you--

“There,” he says, returning to his cake as if nothing has happened. “It would be a terrible shame if I couldn’t see all of your lovely face, after all.”

He is always saying things like this; off-the-cuff remarks that, if he were not the General of the Xianzhou Luofu, you would interpret as being flirty. He mentions them when you have tea together, when he ropes you into playing a game of star chess (“Don’t think I will go easy on you because you are nice to look at,” he says, as he places the counters into their starting positions), when he watches you and Mimi and you and the finches and tells you that he cannot decide which is cuter.

You see him get gradually stronger and stronger. No more limping. He is almost always dressed, now. His hair no longer falls in shaggy waves about his face. His dark circles dissipate, his voice getting somehow even deeper and more velvety.

The unspoken reality that soon, Jing Yuan will be well and you will no longer have to take on this extra duty hangs over your head.

You find that the idea makes you feel sick. You are not only enjoying caring for the animals, now, but you’ve also started to look forward to seeing the General.

Well.

That’s not quite it.

You have to be honest with yourself, don’t you?

You’ve developed a crush on him.

You can’t imagine not seeing him. Not being greeted with Mimi’s butts and her batting paws; not hearing the pleased chirps of his finches whenever they see you. Not enjoying tea with him any more, simply existing in this lazy golden time when you do not have to think about work or his position above you or anything other than the four walls that surround you and the multiple hearts beating within it.

Jing Yuan brings it up first.

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, coughing one day after the two of you have played a game of star chess that you were thoroughly destroyed during. “Well. I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m getting better.”

“I’m glad to see it, Sir,” you say, forcing a smile to your face even as your heart falls into the region of your feet. “We were all very worried about you. Everyone is always asking me how you are and when you’ll be returning to work--”

His face clouds, a flinch so quick you almost miss it.

“Yes,” he says, a mournful tone to his voice. “I’ll soon be returning to work.”

You tell yourself sternly not to cry. This was never supposed to be permanent.

“Then I suppose you won’t need me any longer,” you say, forcing a smile on your face. You are going to be gracious if it kills you.

“Ah,” Jing Yuan replies. “That’s what I’d like to talk to you about. I . . . we are all very fond of you, you see.” He motions to Mimi, who has come to curl beside you, her head laid against your knee. “I fear Mimi will riot if you were to stop bringing her all of those steaks, you understand. And who knows what she’d do, deprived of your song about her tummy?”

You squeak in embarrassment. Mimi lifts her head and gives you a slow, displeased look, much to Jing Yuan’s amusement.

“Well. I’m very aware that it’s not part of your duties, and I’d be willing of course to pay you more for all of the trouble, but--”

You see Jing Yuan falter for one of the first times; as if he is afraid that you are about to reject him outright. He coughs, trying to hide his anxiety, but it is an emotion you’re intimately familiar with and as such you recognise it for what it is.

“We’re all so very fond of you,” he repeats. “Won’t you keep coming?”

You barely leave a breath before you’re happily agreeing.

It’s not quite the same.

You knew it wouldn’t be; you knew that you wouldn’t see Jing Yuan anywhere near as often, as he resumed all of the many duties that the Arbiter-General has to take on. Despite how unenthused he had seemed to be returning to his work, you knew that Jing Yuan took his responsibilities terribly seriously).

Still.

You had thought you might see him more. Might still be able to drink a cup of tea with him, even if it could not be the same kind of slow, languid time the two of you had taken over it before. You’d thought that there’d still be time for a conversation or two.

The reality is that you almost never see the General now.

At work, your paths had crossed only rarely; now, hyper-aware of his presence, you realise that you see him almost never. Not at work, and not at his own home.

You’re still excited to see the animals - for the finches to happily chirp at you as if they’re telling you about their day. One of them rides about on your shoulder, now, even when you go out to feed the strays. You’re still excited to tell Mimi what a good girl she is and rub her tummy and play with her (she’s inordinately fond of ribbons and the chasing thereof, like an overgrown housecat).

But without Jing Yuan there . . .

There’s something missing.

You still do your duties as well as you can - Jing Yuan has negotiated a hefty raise for you, all things considered - but you can’t help sometimes leaving his home feeling a little empty at the lack of seeing the General. You can’t help being disconsolate as you think about him - as you remember his flirty little asides, the way he’d looked at you across the room, the smile that played across his mouth whenever he did. You know he couldn’t really be interested in you, that he was probably like that with most people - but a secret little flame cannot help but burn in your heart even so.

Days pass, quiet, lonely. You work, and feed the animals, and go home to your own empty quarters. You work, feed, go home, work, feed, go home--

Until one evening, when you’re just about to leave Jing Yuan’s chambers, when the door opens and the General appears. He looks a little red in the face; his breath comes in short little pants. You’ve never seen him so obviously flustered; usually, Jing Yuan fits perfectly up to his reputation as the Drowsy General.

“Are you alright?” You ask him, rushing over. You’re touching him before you’ve thought through consequences; finger hovering over his pulse point, reaching up to feel his forehead to make sure he’s not running a temperature. Through the panting, he looks at you and smiles.

“I’m afraid,” he says, still breathing heavily, his voice rasping. “I made up a little lie to be able to get back here on an errand that doesn’t really exist.”

“General,” you scold him. It’s not like him to shirk responsibilities. He laughs.

“Yes, yes, I know, little thing-- but I had to see you. I wanted to see you again.”

You think he’s misspoken.

“I have to get back,” he says, and he reaches down - his hands upon your cheek again. You don’t know how to reply, what to say, what is going on. All you know is that you are there, and Jing Yuan is there, and something is happening. Fizzing on the air is a promise that something is going to change. “But . . . I couldn’t-- I needed to finally--”

Jing Yuan kisses you.

It’s a kiss as messy and rushed as he is right now. A kiss that says that he has to hurry back, despite how much he doesn’t want to. You, unused to being kissed and even more unused to being kissed by handsome military leaders who feel a hundred times out of your league, do not kiss him back. He’s messy and wet, and his teeth clash against your lips as you stand there, feeling foolish and wrong-footed.

He realises you’re not kissing him back, and he stops - he draws back, his eyebrows furrowed. He opens his mouth to speak.

He’s going to say it was a mistake, you realise. He’s going to say he thought you were someone else, that he was carried away in the heat of the moment. You and Jing Yuan? No. It couldn’t be. It’s absurd, it’s silly, nobody could ever believe it - and yet.

And yet.

Your heart couldn’t take his rejection.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out - and you push past him and out of the door and back towards the comforting ordinary normality of your own empty rooms.

Despite your embarrassment, fear and all of those other emotions keeping you up all night, when you wake up the next morning you know that things will be worse the more you put them off. So you get dressed for work and you thank Lan that, when you walk into the Seat of Divine Foresight, Jing Yuan is nowhere to be seen.

You hope he is hard at work, far away from you. You cannot quite face him yet. You haven’t properly said goodbye to your foolish dreams.

You can’t shirk your other duties either, so at the ordinary time you stand up from your desk (you’ve somehow been saddled with the job of reviewing paperwork for grammar inconsistencies. You feel certain there ought to be software of some sort that does this job for you, but it had been laid here on your desk when you’d gotten to it and you were not in the habit of arguing about your duties), and you head to the designated supplier of raw meats for Mimi’s consumption.

“Oh,” says the supplier, the evening after Jing Yuan had finagled a way to see you. “He told me to let you know to go straight up today.”

You frown, not quite sure why; you hope Mimi is alright. It feels strange to be going towards Jing Yuan’s home without your arms weighed down with buckets of meat, but you push forward even so. You hope last night - the awkward kiss, the way he had looked at you - does not sour things between the two of you. You hope that he isn’t about to tell you to never come back. Your heart makes a new home, somewhere in the vicinity of your throat, as you hesitantly knock upon his door.

A beat passes. Your mind helpfully provides you with all of the ways in which Jing Yuan could be about to fire you - or worse, let you down gently and admit that he had a moment of weakness. In that moment, you suddenly seem so much more aware than before of yourself - of the unfashionable curves, of the amount of space you take up, of how a man like Jing Yuan could surely not have really wanted to kiss someone like you - and then, he has opened the door and he is smiling at you and he doesn’t look angry.

Instead, upon seeing you there, a smile passes across his face; tugs at the corners of his lips, crinkles the corners of his eyes.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he says to you - and he reaches across the threshold and his hand brushes your cheek, as soft and tender with you as he is with his finches. “I’m sorry if I frightened you last night.”

“I’m sorry I ran,” tumbles out of your mouth. “I just . . . I didn’t think you-- and somebody like me-- and I was afraid--”

He lays a finger over your lips, still smiling.

“It’s alright,” he says, in that low, smooth voice. “I’m sorry if I caused you undue trouble, little bird.” The pet name falls from his lips as easily as any other trifle, though it makes you feel hot and aware of yourself and flattered all at once. “Please come in.”

He takes your hand to gently urge you across the threshold, his touch still feather light. You think, as he does it, of all of the other things those hands have done; all of the battles they have waged, all of the strength that must be contained within them despite how gentle his touch is now.

“I’ve asked someone else to take care of the animals,” he says to you, not letting go of your hand as he leads you through the front room. You realise with a start exactly where he is taking you as he approaches a door you have never had reason to open before. He looks at you, eyes keen and golden. “I wanted us to be alone. I would hope, little bird, if you do not want this . . .”

“I do,” tumbles from your mouth. It is nothing but the honest truth. You let the crush that you’ve been trying to deny, the fear of Jing Yuan not liking you or finding you attractive, the anxieties of not being good enough, all wash over you, in favour of the beating of your heart and the feel of his hand on your face and the sight of his hand upon the doorknob of his bedroom.

He turns fully so he stands before you. Hands come up, cradling your face; thumbs brushing the plump apples of your cheek, fingertips upon the soft flesh. He is smiling still, even as he dips his head lower, so low you can see the multitudes of swirling shades of gold in his eyes.

“Promise me,” he murmurs, low and soft. “Tell me you want me the way I want you. No expectations, little one. Your career, your position, your everything - nothing will change if you do not want me as badly as I desire you. Honesty.” You realise a tear has escaped from the corner of your eye. You have never felt so . . . seen. So very much wanted. So sure of anything in your life. He wipes that tear with his thumb, tilting your face closer to him so that if you just angled your head differently you could kiss him. “Promise me.”

“I promise,” you whisper, and Jing Yuan’s lips meet yours.

This kiss is entirely unlike the one from yesterday; this kiss is slow, luxurious. Jing Yuan starts off gentle with you, his hand still cupping your jaw - his lips moving against yours in slow, indolent waves. He nips at your bottom lip with his teeth and wins a gasp from you, a hitch of your breath, as your own hands come up to rest lightly upon his chest. You feel his mouth curve into a smile against your own.

“You’re adorable,” he rumbles, pulling back just enough that you can still feel his breath on your face. “Truly - you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do this to you.”

“I--” You helplessly stare up at him. You can barely believe this is happening, as he pushes open the door to his most private of domains. “Really?”

He laughs again, gently taking your arm and urging you into the room. You are helpless to do anything but follow him - to let him slowly, slowly, slowly pull you beside him and onto his bed.

“You really have no idea how . . . desirable you are?” He asks, voice low and husky, humming with want. His hand skims over your cheek, the nape of your neck, following the line of your jaw and your throat to linger over your collarbone. His eyes follow the path his fingers take, not moving from your form for an instant. “You really didn’t notice me staring at you, little bird?” He leans in, close enough for his breath to tickle your ear. His lips brush over the pulse point in your neck, making you squeak in surprise again even as it sends a bolt of heat to the space between your legs. “Imagining what you would feel like under my hands? Imagining what you would look like, divested of that maddeningly conservative uniform they make you wear?” Another kiss, this one with a hint of teeth. You realise with a hot flush of embarrassment mixed with want you have cried out at the sensation of the almost-bite. “Imagining how you would react to every touch I gave you?”

“Sir,” you pant, dazed and amazed and hot and needy. “I-- I thought about you, too--”

“Oh,” he murmurs, as his big fingers slide over your body, feeling the ample shape of you through that same conservative uniform. His big palms brush the soft chub of your upper arms, the meat of your chest, the shape of your waist and over the curve of your hips, basely appreciating your body even beneath the fabric. “I’m sure they were no match for the utterly filthy things I imagined doing to you.”

His thumb digs into the indent of your waist, tugging you closer to him so that you’re pressed tighter against his body. He smiles down at you, every inch the conquering general, and your heart beats in time with the pounding between your legs. He looks at you like he wants to devour you. Wanting and hungry and lustful, like you’re the most delicious thing he’s ever seen. It’s not a look you’re overly familiar with receiving - but oh, does it feel amazing to be on the receiving end of it from Jing Yuan.

“Such a fragile thing,” he murmurs down to you, and you almost laugh, for you do not feel fragile - but Jing Yuan continues speaking, and you get lost in the dulcet tone of his voice. “So very mortal. So very ephemeral . . .” He sighs, dips his head and kisses you again, a flurry of pecks upon your lips as his thumb draws circles where it rests. “Will you let me make the most of having you, little bird? Let me show you how beautiful you are?” He smiles. “I have always had a weakness for delicate things.”

He means it.

Any time you have ever felt too big; ungainly, or ill-shaped - all of it falls to the wayside under the warm haze of being looked at and admired and wanted by Jing Yuan. You find yourself smiling up at him, aware you probably look as though there is not a thought in your head, but the General doesn’t seem to mind as he looks at you with hunger colouring his gaze.

“May I undress you?” He asks, voice low and cajoling. His fingers tease beneath the neckline of your uniform, and it feels as though they leave a trail of fire everywhere they linger. You do not trust yourself to speak; you nod at him, your breath coming out in short little pants. He makes a soft noise of approval, before his fingers are working at buttons and fabric. Cool air hits your bare skin; your uniform is gently cajoled off of your body, tossed aside to be worried about later as Jing Yuan’s hungry eyes drink in every new inch of your exposed skin.

He does not stop praising you as he does it.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, as your top half is bared, as his eyes roam over your chest and his hands come up and squeeze the generous curve of them, palms rough against delicate skin. You shiver as his thumbs find your nipples, as they rub over them again and again until the buds stiffen beneath his touch and a soft whine escapes the back of your throat. “You’re beautiful.”

His tone is nothing if not worshipful. By slow, luxurious degrees, Jing Yuan helps divest you of your garments. As your underwear and bottoms are rolled down, as fabric bunches at thighs and knees, he does not stop murmuring sweet nothings about how soft you are, how beautiful, how lucky he is to be able to see you like this.

About how he has been thinking about having you like this since the moment he saw you.

“You looked so beautiful then too,” he murmurs, as your underwear is pulled from your ankles. He briefly gazes at it, the gusset saturated with your slick, and he smiles. “Ah . . . that little song, the nervous, shy reaction to realising I was there - the sight of you all soft-eyed and adoring with Mimi . . . I’ve never wanted to have my wicked way with somebody quite so much.”

You’re bare beneath him, Jing Yuan slowly urging you to lay down upon the coverlets of his large bed. You suppose that it’s so large so that if Mimi desires to sleep with him, she can, but it alongside Jing Yuan’s own size simply helps you feel small and delicate and breakable in a way you never have before.

“I wanted to know,” Jing Yuan murmurs, leaning down and brushing his lips over yours, teasing and feather-light. “If you would be quite so adorable, squirming and nervous and vulnerable, if I were to have you like this.”

Your cheeks are hot. Jing Yuan has not lost a single garment of his own, but you are entirely unguarded to whatever he wants to do to you now - bare of every scrap of fabric. His gaze lingering on your body almost makes you want to draw in; to curl around the exposed flesh of your stomach, to cover the pudge.

Jing Yuan notices something in the way you hold yourself. He smiles down at you and cups your cheek.

“Don’t hide,” he breathes. “I want to see all of you, little thing. I want you to know how beautiful I find you.”

“I--”

He takes your hand in his, shifting so he is on his knees between your legs. Gently, he guides your unsure hand to the space over his own crotch. Even through the layers of fabric, you can sense the heat of him; the stiffness pushing against his trousers.

“If I did not want you,” he says, “why would you make me so needy, hmm? Feel what you do to me.” He presses your hand a little harder against it, a soft hiss of breath escaping him, encouraging you to not simply take his word for it. Your face hot as ever, you do so; give a gentle squeeze that makes him groan. “Ah-- be careful, sweet thing. I want to take my time over you.”

He lets go of your hand, gently urging you to place it back beside you. Your fingers find purchase in his sheets. You still cannot quite believe where you are; that it’s the great Arbiter-General leaning over you, looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen.

“I-it’s not fair,” you say to him, your voice dry. “I’ve lost all of my clothes, and you’re still fully dressed--”

He chuckles. This time, when he bends down, there’s a slow, deliberate quality about him. He kisses your neck again; trails wet butterfly kisses over your collarbones, lower and lower to the swell of your chest. His hands come to cup the generous weight of them, even as his mouth floats closer and closer to your nipples, tightening and stiffening in anticipation.

“I told you,” he says, murmuring in between flicks of his tongue against the buds. “I want to take my time over you.” He looks at you, eyes half-lidded. “Ah, you short-life species . . . You never learn patience. I have all of the time in the world to give you ecstasy over and over--”

People call Jing Yuan the Dozing General. As he applies his tongue to your nipples, though - as he suckles and nips and bites, as he kisses and squeezes until you feel dizzy with the attention he’s lavishing upon you, you realise that they are misinformed. Jing Yuan is not lazy or dozing - Jing Yuan merely likes to take his time over things.

And oh, is he enjoying taking his time over you.

You whine under his touch. You whimper and squirm, your cheeks flooding hot, your entire body prickling with tension and pleasure as his attentions upon your nipples send shockwaves of pleasure down to your sex. You feel wetness fair seeping out of you; slick rolling down your thighs, making a mess of Jing Yuan’s bed sheets.

“Please,” you manage to get out, dry-voiced and wanting, after what seems like an eternity. “Please, Sir--”

“Jing Yuan,” He corrects you, a smile on his face as he continues to trail wet kisses over your bare skin. “What kind of man would I be if I allowed you to call me ‘Sir’ buried knuckle-deep in you, sweet thing? We are on even ground here.”

It’s hard not to think of him as the General. You are currently barely able to string a thought together, and he hasn’t even touched the place between your thighs yet. Still - you need him to touch you somewhere else. You need his attentions to give your chest a break (your nipples are sore, stiffened points - your skin slick with the wetness of his licks and kisses) and move to somewhere else. You force out, through your desire to genuflect to his status, his given name.

“Jing Yuan--”

“Hmm?” He asks, raising his head. His lips are swollen and pink, his eyes amused. “Do you need something, little bird?”

“Please . . .” A soft exhale, trying to work through the mass of sensations and needs that your body seems to have become. Jing Yuan does not stop touching even as you try and get out your words; still gently squeezing and toying with the weight of your chests. He’s smiling, enjoying watching you desperately work through the haze of your desire.

“Your words,” he says, a maddening smile pulling at his lips. “Tell me what you want, and I promise I’ll do all in my power to give you it.”

“Please,” you say again, your brain fuzzy. His hands move from your chest now; big palms travelling over the curve of your stomach, your hips, resting there in a way that makes you almost lose all of your senses. “I want you to touch me . . . there--”

“Where, little thing?” He’s still smiling. “Here?” A gentle squeeze to your hips. “Here?” His palm roves over your stomach, the soft pouch just above your mound. You whimper again. “Ah. Come now--”

“Between my legs,” you whisper, voice tight and breaking with desire. “Jing Yuan, please--”

“Ah,” he laughs, dips down and kisses you once on the mouth. “You need only to ask. Spread your thighs for me, lovely thing.”

You do, utterly helplessly. Jing Yuan sighs reverently, moving further down so that he can bend his head to look at you. Your face burns under his scrutiny, fearful that he will find something lacking in your body even as his eyes greedily drink you in like you are the finest wine. He breathes deeply, and you hope that your scent is not off-putting - and then, his fingers are sliding slowly and surely up the soft plush of your legs and closer and closer to the space between your thighs and your heart is beating too fast and your breath is coming in short pants.

“Calm down,” he murmurs, and you keen as his hands reach your sex; as he uses his thumbs to spread the plump lips of your labia apart and the cool air hits your slick, heated core. “Ah, darling . . .”

There is so much in those two syllables. Hunger and desire and adoration, all mixed together as one. In another world, with another person, it might have made you feel self-conscious; but Jing Yuan looks down at you as if you are the most beautiful treasure he has ever had the good fortune to witness.

He leans down, down - and you squeak as you realise what he’s about to do, surprised, but it does not deter him at all as he lets his tongue take a slow, luxurious lick down your sex. The base of his tongue presses against your clit, the pressure on the swollen hitherto ignored nub almost enough to make you come right there and then - but then he pulls back again, chuckling.

“Mm,” he says. “If I allow myself to sample too much of something so sweet, I’m afraid I’ll lose my composure.” He moves his hand instead; lets his fingers explore the length of you, fingertips brushing against your clenching entrance and dancing about your swollen clit. There is little pressure exerted on your sex; merely Jing Yuan’s slow, considering explorations. You clench your own fingers into the bedsheets in order to stop yourself writhing.

“Lovely,” Jing Yuan says to himself. “Ah, you feel like velvet. Such a pretty thing; so perfectly made . . .” He sighs, even as the tip of his longest finger nudges against your entrance. Your hips move of their own accord, trying to suck him in and get him to put his finger inside of you, but he clicks his tongue with an amused chide; “Impatient,” he says. “Ah. You’re lucky you’re so irresistible--”

He slides his finger inside of you, slowly but certainly. You sigh, your lashes fluttering closed - his touch stokes all of those fires inside of you, of course, burning to fever pitch . . . but the sensation of finally having something inside of you has also made you realise how empty you felt before. It feels good, to have something to fill that pulsing space. Jing Yuan watches with rapt attention as he slides his finger half out, and then half inside of you again.

You have had some experience, but you have never felt the way Jing Yuan makes you feel.

“You take it so well,” he murmurs. “Look how pretty you look with something inside of you. Ah. I could spend hours doing this to you . . .”

You make a soft whine of discontent at the idea and he laughs, clicking his tongue even as he’s letting his second finger dance at your entrance ready to join the first.

“No, even I do not have the patience for that right now,” he agrees. “Not when you feel so wonderful, little bird. Not when I cannot wait to see you come apart.”

The second finger; a slight scissoring motion as it enters you, getting you used to the size and stretch of two of his digits instead of one. The heel of his palm presses against your clit with every wet pump, sending frissons of pleasure to the tips of your toes; but he still does not rush himself. He still lets himself enjoy the feel of you clinging tightly to his fingers, the sight of them disappearing inside of your slick, drooling hole.

“Does that feel good?” He asks you, deciding you haven’t spoken recently enough. “Tell me if you want me to go faster, sweet thing--”

“Please,” you say, ragged, breathing heavy. You can feel a tight hot ball of tension between your legs, rolling in your gut, threatening to overwhelm you. “Please, Jing Yuan, faster--”

“Very well,” he smiles, and he crooks his fingers inside of you to find your g-spot - causing your back to arch involuntarily, a whine of pure enjoyment to loose itself from your throat. At the same time, his thumb moves to play with your clit - to toy with the bud, to roll and to circle and to press against the swollen bundle of nerves. What already felt like electric shocks of pleasure move on; instead, they are lightning bolts, ricocheting up your spine and stopping just short of striking earth.

“You’re close,” Jing Yuan says, and you are staring at his mouth. How a strand of your own gossamer-thin arousal is still glimmering at the corner. How his eyes are so focused on you that his gaze feels almost scorching. “That’s right. Let go for me, sweet thing--”

His soft entreaty pushes you over the edge, and the lightning strikes home as your peak hits you with all of the force of a storm.

His fingers work you over the crest of your orgasm, the two inside of you constantly rubbing against that spongy spot that makes you see stars, the big pad of his thumb roughly sliding over your twitching clit in circles and lines. As the waves come to a head and then slowly begin to dissipate, he slows his attentions too - until the slow strokes of his fingers fade out into nothing. He does not seem to care that you’ve soaked his fingers and his palm and the fabric he wears and his bed too - merely keeps looking at you, smiling, like you’re giving him the most precious gift imaginable.

“Good,” he praises you. “But . . . I’m afraid that just that taste from earlier wasn’t quite enough, little bird. May I use my mouth on you?”

Who would ever believe this? Who would ever imagine little old you, on the Arbiter-General’s bed, as he looks at you and waits for your permission to fuck you with his tongue? You feel rather tongue-tied yourself - but you recall what Jing Yuan said earlier, about using your words.

“Please do,” you say, aloud, and Jing Yuan gives you that same smile that makes you feel like the only being in the whole universe.

“Thank you,” he says, sounding entirely like he means it - like it’s truly an honour for him to be able to serve you on his hands and knees. And then he has moved his body further down the bed, elegant and graceful and leonine, and his mouth is heading towards the slick-soaked place between your legs and his tongue is glinting wet in the bedroom and then he is on you, licking at you, hungrily devouring your sex like it is his last meal before an execution.

You’re still oversensitive from his earlier attentions, and the sensation of the wet muscle of his tongue working over you almost pushed you into another early orgasm. Your fingers move from where they’re still clenched into the bedsheets to cling to his hair instead, pulling on the silvery pale strands as your back arches and you blindly cant your hips forward towards his mouth.

He groans aloud at having his hair pulled, and the groan sends vibrations all through your body that make you feel weak at the knees, your toes curling. His tongue continues its assault; back and forth, back and forth. Wetness drools from your sex and onto his face; you can feel the heat in his cheeks, the fan of his lashes against your bare skin.

He twirls his tongue about your entrance, teasingly dips into it, as the channel of your sex constricts and pulses in an attempt to pull him even further in. He groans as your hands knit further into his hair, fucking you for a moment with his tongue before he seems to try and work his face further into your sex.

It’s like he wants to engulf you; soft noises of pleasure keep falling from his mouth, interspersed with rumbling groans. He’s almost gyrating against the bed, you realise, your cheeks hot - grinding his crotch into the mattress as if he’s desperate to have some attention of his own.

That sight makes your mouth go dry; all of the moisture in your body instead congregating between your legs to make a new home in Jing Yuan’s mouth and smeared across his cheeks.

His tongue flicks across your clit and the noise that escapes you is almost animal; Jing Yuan says something, perhaps, or at least makes some kind of muffled noise from his position happily buried in your sex before he shifts his tongue just so and his mouth fastens around your clit fully.

Sucking and licking, suckling upon the pearl like his life depends upon it; tongue occasionally just brushing under the hood, where you’re most engorged, and you can do nothing but cling onto his hair and pull at it as the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt rips through your body.

You cannot put into words the way that you feel as Jing Yuan devours you. Your entire body feels, suddenly, as if it weighs nothing; as if sparkling lights suffuse your fingers and toes and you float into the stratosphere, white lights dancing behind your eyes in time with your whine (a whine so loud you’re sure everybody on the Luofu must have heard of it).

You come down, eventually, to the sound of Jing Yuan panting. The wet noise as his mouth separates from you, the pleased grin on his face as he uses his thumb to wipe his mouth of some of your slick. It’s a pointless endeavour, really; his face is so saturated with it you’re not sure if he’ll ever be dry again.

“Darling,” Jing Yuan repeats, looking you in the eye, smiling like the cat who has gotten the cream. “You have no idea how much I enjoyed doing that.”

The words almost make you go over shy - but you push that to the side. There is no point, you decide, being nervous of a man who has now known you so intimately.

“In which case,” you say, breathlessly - your voice is still a little scratchy from the moaning and whimpering you’ve been doing - “Will you let me make you feel just as good?”

He looks at you for a moment, before he throws his head back and laughs.

“Why,” he says. “Of course I will.”

“Come,” Jing Yuan is murmuring, and he is finally removing his own clothes. Armour drops to the side of him, shirts unbuttoned and fastenings unhooked. His body is muscular and dotted with scars, befitting his status as a military hero; a light dusting of pale hair upon his proud chest, down into a trail to the vee of his hips. You swallow, your throat dry, trying to blink back the waves of pleasure that are still lapping gently at your shores in order to concentrate on what’s going on. His face is still wet with your slick, his hair damp with sweat and falling in messy strands over his flushed face. He looks well-fucked even without you touching him back, as if merely getting you to feel good was enough for him.

His cock. It’s stiff against the hard planes of his abdomen, a thick, pretty specimen bubbling with precome at the flushed tip. He sighs, running his hand over it once, and your mouth practically waters at the way it twitches. It looks stiff and hard enough that you wonder if it hurts, to want so badly - but Jing Yuan looks at you and smiles, as he rearranges himself on the bed. Pillows are moved, and before you know it he has sat against them, propping himself up like an emperor upon his throne. His cock stands proud and wanting, and he gently pats his thigh as if he is calling an obedient animal to him.

“I don’t wish to hurt you, little bird,” he says - and again, you think of how it feels to be smaller than him. How he does not care about the flesh that spills from straps or curves over fabric. How he looks at you like the most beautiful thing in the world and calls you ‘delicate’ and ‘little’ and ‘precious’ and means them. “Come. Take a seat. As slowly as you need.”

Despite how he has seen you so intimately, you cannot help but feel a little flare of fear as you approach him. He smiles, entirely at peace and at comfort with you going at your own pace, and you could kiss him for it.

“Touch,” he murmurs. “Don’t be afraid.”

With trembling fingers, you reach out; let your hand encircle his cock, get used to the width and the feel of him and imagine it inside of you. He pulses beneath your palm, a soft hum of pleasure falling from the back of his throat as you give it a cursory pump. He curses softly as your thumb rubs across the slit of his cockhead, the bubble of precome wetting the pad.

“Touch,” he says, with a smile. “But don’t get me too excited, little bird. I don’t want to come anywhere but inside of you.”

Your cheeks go hot at his easy profession; your tongue darts out to trace your lower lip. You’re used to the feel of him now; the heat that seems to stir beneath the surface of his cock, the veins that marble the side of his shaft, the ruddy pink of the head. Taking a deep breath, you spread your legs and let yourself readjust, straddling him. His own hands come up to cling to your thighs, sinking into the soft flesh there.

“You’re so soft,” he murmurs, as if in devotion, as if praying to an Aeon. “You’re beautiful.”

His cockhead brushes your clit as you fit it snugly between the lips of your sex; you shift your hips, until it catches against your entrance and your eyes flutter closed.

Your eyes are still closed as you begin to lower yourself down, so you feel every inch of him as he makes his home within your body. Your eyes being closed, of course, you miss the softness and the warmth that fills Jing Yuan’s gaze as he looks at you. The brief moment of sadness that passes behind his eyes as he remembers that you are a short-life species; that he cannot have all of the time in the world with you, to teach you pleasures the likes of which you do not yet know. The sadness he cannot spend his lifetime learning you by heart--

But you hear the soft murmur of your name, as he bottoms out inside of you and you take a moment to simply rest there with him buried as deep inside of you as he can go. You feel the way one of his hands slides up your spine to grip the back of your head and to pull you into a kiss as deep and adoring as anything else he’s done so far.

Teeth and tongue and lips, whimpering and gasping into one another’s mouths until you do not know where he ends and where you begin, Jing Yuan somehow manages to murmur;

“Move whenever you want, sweet thing. Set the pace.”

It does not, in the end, feel like either of those things happen. Instead, it feels as though the universe sets the pace for you; as if you simply know when to begin to move your hips, how to bend and angle yourself just so in order for Jing Yuan to hit all of the most sensitive spots inside of you.

One hand remains on your hip, helping you with the pace - the other remains on the back of your head, to allow him to kiss, as if he doesn’t want to let his mouth separate from yours for any longer than necessary. It’s a romance that you didn’t expect of the General, but it’s hardly one you’re going to complain about when his mouth feels so good and the constant nibbling of your lip and curl of his tongue against yours is distracting you from the mounting pleasure already starting to coalesce inside of you.

There is nothing in the world for a while except Jing Yuan’s body underneath yours. His hands, his mouth, the feel of his shoulders beneath your own palms where you cling to him for leverage. You sweat and breathe and kiss and fuck as one, until the call inside of you becomes too much to ignore.

“I’m--” You pull back from the kiss to whisper, voice hoarse. “I’m going to--”

“Shh,” Jing Yuan says, kissing again. His own voice climbs in pitch, and you hear a shiver and a shudder in his syllables that makes you aware that he, too, is not far from his own release. His teeth nip at your lower lip as he half-begs into your mouth. “Please. Come again for me, sweet thing, little bird, pretty-- let me feel you--”

Your third orgasm crashes over you, your sex spasming around his cock, tight and hot and pulsing - and Jing Yuan groans into your mouth as you push him over the edge too, and you feel his cock spasm in turn. Ropes of hot release shoot inside of you; you had thought, earlier, that having his cock buried all the way inside of you was the extent of how full you could feel.

You were wrong.

You bite at his lips, whining and half-sobbing, as the please encompasses you like a cloak of warmth. Jing Yuan groans in return, his hips making needy fast circles to chase the dregs of his own release. It feels right, for the two of you to peak together like this. For the two of you to chase every last drop of pleasure, entwined together and sweating and kissing and as close to one being as it’s possible to be.

Eventually, your breathing slows. Eventually, the kiss turns tender instead of frenzied. Eventually, you pull back from Jing Yuan with a foolish smile on your face and your cheeks hot and tears of pleasure (that you hadn’t even realised you had cried) rolling down your face like sparkling diamonds.

You stare at each other, the enormity of what has happened washing over you. Jing Yuan’s face is calm and serene, but his eyes are bright still, his cheeks still high in colour.

You fear for a moment that he is about to dismiss you; that what the two of you just shared will mean nothing now that it is over. You fear that you’re about to go back to what you were before; a colleague and an employer, a General and a subordinate. But then, Jing Yuan lets out a deep rumbling sigh, pleased, as he collapses back upon the pillows. He opens his arms for you to dismount, his cock sliding slippery and wet outside of you, his come trickling down your thighs.

“Come here,” he murmurs, sounding tired but terribly pleased; the cat who has gotten the cream. He’s like a lion once more. You are helpless to resist his indication that he wants to cuddle, and so you let him pull you into his arms, let him manoeuvre you to lay against his chest until you can hear his heart beating. His fingers stroke your head, like you’re a sweet-tempered animal yourself. “Mmm. Rest with me, little bird.”

You let yourself. Your body is aching and sore from the orgasms and the sex, and you let your eyes drift closed, lulled by the comforting rhythm of his breathing.

A sleepy kiss is dropped onto the crown of your head.

“Enjoy it whilst you can,” Jing Yuan hums. “Before we start having to make room for Mimi every night.”

#writing #not sfw text #jing yuan smut #jing yuan x reader #chubby reader posting #commissioned work #hsr x reader #hsr smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr posting

2K notes · View notes

frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe · 1 month ago

Text

@steddie-spooktober day 4: corn maze | G | wc: 1,147

uhhh i know i'm the one who came up with the corn maze prompt.. but hay bales suited this story better 🧍‍♀️

“Okay, this is getting ridiculous. Where the hell is that kid?”

“Probably back there where I said we should’ve gone left.”

“You go find him then if—” Steve cuts himself off when he comes face to face with another dead end. The stack of hay bales mock him. “Alright. You know what, fine. I give up.”

“You give up.”

“I give up.” Steve plops down onto a pile of stray straw at the base of the five-bale-tall wall.

“That’s not the Harrington I know.” Eddie says, a smirk in his voice.

“Yeah, well, if this was a corn maze like they normally have every year, I’d just walk through the walls to the center. But no. They just had to have a crazy amount of hay this year, didn’t they?”

Eddie laughs at him, the bastard. Steve takes a second to glare furiously at him. It’s almost enough to kill off the unforeseen crush he’d developed on their newest party member, but even now, Eddie’s frustrating and frustratingly good looking.

The cold has brought some prickles of pink to his cheeks, the wind that would flood down on them whenever they’d turned down a parallel leg of the maze having done wonders to his hair, the exasperated smile he’s currently sporting.. Damn him and damn his pretty.. everything.

“Who would’ve thought that Captain of every team he’s on Harrington would only ever be a bad sport when it comes to harmless, family fun mazes.”

“...I’m not directionally gifted. Shut up.”

“Do you want me to take the lead, or do you actually want me to leave you here in the dirt?” Eddie holds out a hand for him to take.

Steve has no choice but to take it.

“Damn, your hands are cold!” Eddie says, pulling him up, “Alright sweetheart, you hang onto that, and I’ll get us out of here.”

Some of the heat that Steve could have routed down to his hand floods into his face instead.

Eddie stands still, almost frozen, for a few seconds, then says, “Right.” and starts pulling Steve along the way they came.

One right, two lefts, and one more right after that, and they break into the large, sunny center of the maze.

“Surprise!!” The entire rest of the party is there already, waiting for them with grins on their faces. “Happy Birthday Steve!"

He has to fight the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose as the group surge forward toward them.

“We got you a birthday doughnut!” Robin says, holding up a small paper plate with a sugar-crusted doughnut on it; a single candle is wedged into a glazed doughnut hole that’s been smushed into the center of the other. The flame gets gusted out by the wind as she passes it to him. “Whoops..”

“I brought a canteen full of hot cider!”

“There are presents too, ours was Mike’s idea.” El’s comment surprises him, and Mike is already looking away from him pointedly when he glances over at him.

“The maze thing was Eddie’s idea!”

“Hey, the whole thing was Eddie’s idea, Henderson. Give him some credit.” Eddie says, pointing accusingly at Dustin.

Steve turns to raise an eyebrow at Eddie.

“How was I supposed to know that mazes are the one thing you’re bad at?” he says in a mock affronted tone.

Everyone laughs, and are soon piping up to tell their own stories of trying to get through from the other side.

“Dustin got all claustrophobic like, two minutes in, and it actually made him get through it faster.” Mike teases, poking Dustin in the side.

“I wish it was corn like last year, I would’ve gotten through in half the time.” Lucas grouses. (“That’s what I said!” Steve says, gesturing heartily at Lucas.)

“Me, Max, and Erica were the first ones through, it was so easy.” Robin says, “I thought we’d have to eat all the doughnuts to survive.”

They hang out in the center for a while, and it isn’t until he goes to reach for another pumpkin spice doughnut, pulling his hand from Eddie’s to do so, that he realizes Eddie was still holding his hand, thumb running idly back and forth across his knuckles the whole time.

Maybe Steve’s not the only one with a crush after all…

“Alright, ready Eddie?” Steve says once all the baked goods are gone and the presents (a sweater from the boys, a mini leather bound journal from Robin, a hefty handful of new pins for his work vest from the girls, and a new walkman from Hopper and Joyce) are packed away back into Will’s backpack. He stands up and starts doing some useless stretches, his arms, his calves, jogging in place.

“For what?! Are we running a marathon next? ‘Cause I gotta tell you Stevie, I may do a lot of running, but that doesn’t mean I’m good at it.”

“Nope, for my redemption arc. I’m leading us back out. And I won’t get lost this time.”

“Sure you won’t, Dingus.” Robin says, standing too and grabbing their trash. “See you boys on the other side.”

The party all tear out at the same time, splitting in half and timing their exits to go back through opposite sides, something about the winning half getting some sort of prize. Hopper and Joyce similarly split, a dinner date on the line for the winner.

“Alright Munson. Eyes closed, hand out.” Steve says once they reach the break in the wall too.

“Ooh, bossy. I like that.” he says, smirking at the eye roll Steve gives him as he squashes his eyelids shut.

Steve’s cold-ass fingers lace through his, not at all the platonic grip he’d had on Steve’s the last time.

They turn and weave and wind through the walls, and soon, as the drone of the crowds filter out, Eddie can tell Steve’s gotten them lost once again.

“There. Think this is good enough.” Steve murmurs, and before Eddie can ask what he means by that, Steve has pulled him sharply around, spinning him and pressing him back into the prickly wall of hay.

Eddie’s eyes fly open in surprise when his back hits the bales, but closes them again in the next second when Steve’s lips connect with his.

Funnily enough, they’re warmer than Eddie’s, and the press of them makes his stomach swoop almost violently.

Too soon, way too soon, Steve is pulling back. “You planned a surprise for me.” he breathes.

“Robin helped.” Eddie breathes dumbly in return.

Steve snorts, pushing closer to him, “I’m going to kiss you again.”

“Uh huh.”

He leans closer, gaze hooded. “That okay?”

“More than.”

Steve tastes like cinnamon sugar, and suddenly it’s the best flavor in the world.

(“Okay, you can lead us back out now.” Steve says, after ten minutes spent warming his hands on the skin of Eddie’s torso.)

divider from @saradika-graphics!

#steve's birthday is in october now #i've decided #steddie #steddiespooktober #steve harrington #eddie munson #the party #noelle writes

257 notes · View notes

runnning-outof-time · 25 days ago

Text

The Special Touch | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by anonymous

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x fem!Reader

Summary: A small, small detail brings back memories of a person in Tommy Shelby’s life that was able to do something not many can.

Warnings: language, drinking

Word Count: 3102

A/N: the structure of this one’s a little wonky, but I think it reads cohesively…I hope it comes off that way for you. Enjoy! :)

A/N 2: the italicized dialogue in the story is taken directly from season 1 of the show.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

(Y/N)'s food was the only thing Tommy Shelby actually ate.

Sure, he still didn't willingly sit himself at the table when it came time for a meal, but (Y/N)'s cooking coaxed him in more often than it didn't.

What started as a woman trying to impress the family of a man she dearly liked - that form of impressing coming through a lovely, homemade apple pie - quickly blossomed into (Y/N) being the Shelby family cook. Polly was probably the happiest about this - she no longer had to tackle the family meals alone.

Tommy was also happy about this - being that he quickly made sure that she was his - because it meant that he was able to spend much more time with her. Hell, he'd even happily endure the enhanced teasing from his family...Tommy hadn't spent this much time at home since he was a child. But (Y/N), and her cooking, had him coming home more often than anything else.

And he enjoyed it.

On this particular evening, she had decided to make some plum bread to bring to the Shelby family. It was one of her favorite recipes, one that she only brought out every once in a while.

Tonight would be a special night for it, she thought. She and Tommy had been officially together for eight months, but it was on this night one year ago that they shared their feelings with each other and decided that they’d commit themselves to one another.

She worked all day to make the bread not only for this occasion, but also because she wanted to see if his family liked it as much as hers did.

It was late afternoon when she made her way over to the house on Watery Lane. She hoped that everyone was home because with each step her eagerness was building - she wanted as many people as possible to try the bread she’d baked.

She could hear the inhabitants of the house before she saw them as she entered through the front door.

She heard Tommy speak in a low voice, “you’re alright,” as the sound of pain-filled hisses filled the room.

Then came a statement that made (Y/N) stop: “he said Mr. Churchill sent him to Birmingham. National interest, he said…something about a robbery.” It was Arthur who was speaking. “He said he wants us to help him.”

“We don’t help coppers,” she heard John chime in.

“He knew all about our war records,” Arthur continued, “he said we’re patriots…like him. He wants us to be his eyes and ears. I said—” another pain-filled hiss left the eldest siblings lips, and it was followed by a soft ‘shh’. He continued once the pain had been assuaged, “I said we’d have a family meeting and take a vote,” he finished his statement.

A pause filled the room. (Y/N), who’d been standing still and listening in since she entered the dwelling, couldn’t stand in the same position any longer. Despite her efforts not to, her weight shifted, making the floorboard creak underneath her foot.

Tommy looked up from the ground upon hearing the sound, and his intense gaze connected with her worried one instantly. “We’ll discuss this later,” he then addressed his family in a low tone.

“What the fuck is wrong with him lately?” Arthur asked, annoyance laced into his tone.

“If I knew, I’d buy the cure from Compton’s chemists,” Polly chimed in, her tone matching Arthur’s.

Tommy’s eyes were still locked on (Y/N), who now felt like she had to make her presence known. She took a few steps forward into the room before speaking, “I’m sorry I…I didn’t know what I was arriving to,” she hesitantly said, feeling several pairs of eyes now locked onto her. She tried to withhold her expression, but surely there was a look of pain present on her face as she took in Arthur’s bloodied one. “Goodness,” she gasped, the tension quickly becoming too much for her to bear, “I…I wanted to bring something over for the evening. I baked plum bread from scratch,” she said, holding the enclosed tray out in front of her.

“Well isn’t that just bloody perfect,” Arthur muttered under his breath.

Silence hung in the room and (Y/N) wasn’t quite sure what to do. It seemed like every person in the family was glaring daggers at Tommy, and Tommy was just standing, brooding in front of the free-standing stove.

“I can just…I can leave and come back at a better…”

“No!” John interrupted her, pushing himself off of the wall he’d been leaning against, “you’re here now, so let’s try some of this bread.”

“Ok,” there was still a great deal of hesitance present in (Y/N)’s voice, but she still allowed John to take the tray from her hands when he motioned for it. She then glanced in Tommy’s direction, seeing that he was still glaring at the floor. Above everything else, she really wanted to speak to him. The conversation she walked in on was still in the forefront of her mind. She wasn’t sure how to make the first move though.

“Oh, (Y/N), this is grand!” John’s review of the bread cut through her thoughts, making her focus on the small group that was now trying it. Ada nodded her head in agreement with her brother as Polly quietly ate her piece. She didn’t look displeased with it though. Arthur was still staring at the piece that had been placed in front of him. (Y/N) figured he wouldn’t eat it that moment though, given the state he was currently in. A small smile creeped onto her face as she watched them enjoy the thing she’d spent so long baking.

“Tommy you’ve got to try it! It’s absolutely amazing, as always,” Ada said to her older brother, hoping that her shining review would coax him into having a bite.

“I’ll have some later,” he brushed her statement off, his eyes finding (Y/N) again. “(Y/N), can I talk to you?” he asked her then, his brows raising slightly.

“Yes,” she answered softly, knowing there really wasn’t any other response she could give.

He nodded before tipping his head in the direction of the betting shop doors. She nodded in agreement, wordlessly following behind him as they went into that section of the building.

The walk felt so long, even though they were really only moving to the next room over. (Y/N) bit on her cheek as she tried to think of what to say. She knew she wanted to be the first to speak. “What did I walk in on back there?” was what she settled on asking as they both came to a stop.

“It was nothing,” Tommy brushed the question off.

“It didn’t seem like nothing,” she doubled down, not buying his diversion. “Who has Mr. Churchill sent?”

“It’s not a big deal,” he tried another escape route.

“You’re helping the cops now?” she asked another question.

“(Y/N)…” his tone held a warning.

“Why does Arthur look like that?” her exasperation finally shined through this question as she motioned to the room they’d just left.

Tommy exhaled a sigh as he looked away from his partner. It was already enough that his entire family was coming down on him…he didn’t need it from her as well. “This isn’t something you need to worry about, (Y/N),” he told her once he composed himself.

“You said you wouldn’t hold anything from me, Tommy,” she reminded him of a promise that he made to her in their early months. A promise that came as a result of him showing up to her family’s house broken and bloodied…over something he couldn’t share.

Her parents hated him from that day forward, but she found a way to continue to see him. He assured her that would be the last time nothing was withheld…until now it seems.

“This is different,” he shook his head.

“Different how?” she asked for him to elaborate.

“Different in the sense that if it all goes according to plan, we move up in the world,” his elaboration was still vague.

“That doesn’t tell me much,” she crossed her arms over her chest.

“Well it’s all I can share,” his tone was now dismissive as he lifted his hand, his palm to the ceiling.

(Y/N) stared at him for a few moments, silently hoping that he’d take that statement back and clue her in to what was going on. She had to bite on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering after those moments had passed and nothing more was said.

“Well I think I need to leave then,” she finally said, her voice just above a whisper.

Tommy’s brows furrowed at her statement, “what?”

“You promised that you wouldn’t keep anything from me, that there’d be no secrets in regards to what sort of business you’re doing,” she reminded him, “we agreed that that would be the only way we could work.”

“I said that this was different, (Y/N),” he argued his cause, “there has to be an exception for it.”

“I can’t make an exception, Tommy,” she shook her head, her tone slightly wavering, “because if I make one now, you’ll have me making another down the road.”

“(Y/N), I don’t need this…”

“Do you know what day it is, Tommy?” she cut him off, her eyebrows raised. He said nothing. “Huh?” she asked for a response. Silence was all she got. “You don’t…” she sighed in defeat, shaking her head as she looked to the floor. “It’s been a year…one whole year since we shared our feelings for each other. One whole year since I thought I found the person who I was going to be with for the rest of my life. But now I don’t know anymore…”

“(Y/N)…” he tried to get out but she wasn’t hearing it.

“This is your last chance,” she gave him the ultimatum, “tell me or I leave.”

The tension between the two was practically palpable. (Y/N) waited on bated breath for him to share what he’d been hiding from her. Tommy weighed his options in his mind - no one knew that he still had the guns in his possession. He was hoping that the last person who knew was (Y/N). But now since she stumbled in on that conversation, she wanted to know more. He’d remembered the promise he made those several months ago. And while the last thing he wanted to do was break it, he just couldn’t bring himself to reveal the secret he was withholding from the entire family. If she knew, everyone would know, was his thinking.

“I’m leaving,” she made her decision, cutting into his thoughts and making him realize that he hadn’t said anything.

She took one last look at him, honestly still hoping that he’d make some grand gesture and save everything, but he just stood there, a look of disbelief clear across his face. She had to follow through with her decision. With a deep breath, she walked past him and exited the building through the betting shop door. Turning and walking back past the family would have been too much for her. She needed to get away with the least amount of Shelbys seeing her.

Tommy blinked a few times after the door to the shop closed. He was frozen in disbelief. So much had happened in the span of a short time. And now (Y/N) was gone.

He remembered the bottle of rum that he’d brought for Arthur’s wounds. It wasn’t whiskey, but the last thing he wanted to do was go out now, so the rum would do.

Polly, John and Arthur were still sitting in the kitchen when he re-entered it. He didn’t make eye contact with any of them, instead making a b-line for the bottle of alcohol and bringing it to his lips the second he had it in his hands.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” Arthur questioned, looking less bloody now than he had before.

“She left,” Tommy answered before taking another drink from the bottle.

“Shame…this bread’s fucking amazing,” John shared his praises for the woman’s baking skills. “You should try some,” he insisted.

“I don’t want any,” Tommy shook his head.

“Try some!” Arthur shouted, motioning to the small portion of the bread that was left, “before we eat it all on ya.”

“Fine,” Tommy huffed under his breath, moving over to where the baked good was sitting. He took the knife and cut himself the smallest slice, putting it right into his mouth and eating it without giving any clue as to what he thought of it. He then walked out of the room, exiting the home the opposite way (Y/N) had.

The three remaining people in the room all watched him leave, wondering what exactly was making him even more vexed than usual.

“More for us,” John shrugged, his carefree comment clearing the tension as he moved over to cut himself another slice of the bread.

Tommy returned to the house on Watery Lane later that evening and let out a sigh of relief when he found what he was looking for.

There was still a small piece of the plum bread (Y/N) had brought over left of the table. He sighed as he sat down on one of the chairs before reaching out to take the leftover piece.

Another sigh left his lips as he ate the bread. He couldn’t get (Y/N) out of his mind since she left him earlier, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t fighting with himself over what he should do now.

As much as he wanted her in his life, he had to honor her wishes. And even if she posed the earlier question to him again, he wasn’t sure if he’d give a different response. What was happening now was different…he had to keep his cards close to his chest. She should have understood that, right?

He couldn’t deny that he missed her though. The fact that he actually came back to have a second piece of the bread she made for them had him realizing that there would be many reasons why he’d be missing her.

“I have something for you,” the barmaid, Grace, announced as she entered the snug, where the three oldest Shelby brothers had been holed up for the majority of the day. She’d been working at the Garrison for several months now, and she’d quickly found her place within the establishment.

“What is it?” Arthur asked as he brought his glass up to his lips, his eyebrows raised in intrigue.

“Plum bread. I made it…figured you’d need something after all of the meetings that have been happening,” she answered, explaining the reason behind the gesture.

John and Arthur exchanged a look upon hearing what she’d brought. They hadn’t had plum bread since (Y/N) left it for them. Hesitantly, they looked over at Tommy. His expression wasn’t readable.

“Leave it on the table and then you’re good to go, Grace,” Tommy spoke up to instruct her. He felt his brothers’ eyes on him, and knew that they’d be watching closely to see what he’d do next.

“Ok,” she nodded, carefully setting the serving dish and accompanying plates on the table before she turned and exited the snug.

The three men looked at the bread for a few moments. John and Arthur both didn’t want to be the first to make a move, and they most certainly knew that Tommy wasn’t going to.

It was kind of Grace to bake for them, and they no doubt took it as one of her attempts to break the ice between her and the Shelby family. She’d been chipping away at it since she arrived months ago.

But the elephant in the room was looming large now, and it had made itself known via the choice of baked good that the aforementioned blonde woman had brought.

“Shall we try it then?” Arthur was the first to finally speak up. He took his eyes off the dish for a moment to look at his brothers.

“Might as well,” John shrugged as he replied.

Now they both were looking at Tommy. It became apparent that they weren’t going to make a move until he signed off on it. “Go on,” he finally instructed them, motioning to the bread with his chin.

That was all the two men needed. Arthur took on the job of cutting the bread while John divvied out the plates. They even cut a piece for Tommy, who didn’t seem like he was too keen on eating it.

What they did not need was an invitation to eat the bread. More silence filled the room as they did so. It took a few bites from both of them before they were sharing a look with each other. Something had been silently agreed upon between them, and now they were deciding whether they should share their thoughts with Tommy.

“How is it?” Tommy broke into their nonverbal conversation, knowing the looks they were sharing all too well.

“It’s…” Arthur started, finishing his statement off with a breath instead of continuing before he looked to John for assistance. Between the two of them, he knew the latter was a more colorful commentator.

“It’s not like hers,” John filled in the blank, shaking his head slightly as he looked down at the remaining piece of bread on his plate.

The name didn’t even need to be said. Tommy knew who they were taking about. He exhaled a breath before nodding his head. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the piece sitting in front of him.

“She ain’t got that special touch like (Y/N) did,” Arthur then added his thoughts, addressing the elephant in the room by name.

Tommy’s look was once again unreadable. Glimpses of the woman he’d lost were swirling around his mind, and they wouldn’t leave no matter how hard he tried. Sometimes he wished he would have done things differently. He wished she was still in his life.

What’s done is done was always what came to mind when he got to thinking like that. But even though that phrase came to mind, he still wasn’t going to try the bread, for his remembrance of how she made it was one of the only good things he had left.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @mischievouslittlecreature

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername

@depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond @cljordan-imperium

@brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable @thomashelbyswife

@shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

357 notes · View notes

reiderwriter · 1 year ago

Text

The Thought of You Leaves Me Weak 🎰

Chapter 2 of That's What You Get

Prev Chapter || Next Chapter

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, suggestive.

Word count: 4.8k

Summary: Pushing through your hangovers, you and Spencer retrace your steps from the night before to see if your shotgun Vegas marriage is legal - and find out some extra personal things along the way.

Warnings: mentions of alcohol, mentions of sex, author has a pronounced disinterest in the reality of getting an annulment for a Vegas wedding.

A/N: We're here! Part two! We're still stuck in Vegas for now, but they'll be back to their new normal soon, and now they have a time limit~ Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented on and signed up for the series taglist from my first post, I hope you all enjoy part two just as much!! Let me know what you think in the comments or over an ask, I'll be replying all weekend :) Here's the taglist link for anyone else who wants to sign up!

Requests are open as well, and you can find some more of my work in my masterlist.

After the initial shock wore off, and the hangover was left to permeate a bit, you and Spencer remembered you were actually FBI agents and had the ability to do something about your predicament.

“I should probably head off to my own room now,” you said pulling yourself out of Spencer’s arms. “Freshen up a bit before we head out to see what’s going on.”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He nodded, then continued. “You know our first stop should probably be the Marriage License Bureau of Las Vegas. If we are legally married, we’d have had to have obtained a marriage licence between 8am and 12am yesterday, they don’t open later than that.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You nodded to him, “Would they even have served us the marriage licence if we were as intoxicated as I think we were?”

“This is Vegas, Y/N. All we’d need is a valid form of ID and to be willing, and we’d have to have been carrying the ID to get into the bars.” You raked a hand through your hair. Of course you had to get married in a shotgun ceremony in the only state where it probably didn’t matter what your alcohol intake had been.

“Well, we were obviously both willing.” You say, gesturing to the bed, and then curse yourself inwardly as you see the downturned look on Reid’s face. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“No, it’s okay. You’re right, I wouldn’t have handcuffed you without at least verbal consent.” He replied, pulling a shirt on finally.

“Right,” you let that revelation sit between the two of you, as he turns his back, continuing to get himself ready for the rest of the day. If you were honest with yourself, you’d have admitted to always having an attraction to your coworker, but nothing you’d solidly act on. Yeah, he was beautiful, and you’d enjoyed joining in the teasing everytime Morgan had called him a pretty boy, because he was. But you’d never let your thoughts drift to what he might be like in bed, and now you were regretting that because you had nothing to base your theories of the last night on except that you’d woken up in handcuffs.

Really, if someone had asked you the question about what you could possibly expect from Spencer Reid in the bedroom, the furthest you’d be able to imagine was some incredibly professional, missionary sex. If you thought a little harder, you’d remember that the man had once highlighted his distinct lack of “alpha-male” qualities on a case once, so, really, if anyone was going to be locked up in handcuffs, surely it would’ve been him.

You try to shake that mental picture from your head, but doing so just aggravates your headache, so you have to sit with the image of Spencer Reid tying you up and making you beg.

“You okay, Y/N? You look a bit pale,” he looks a little bit concerned for you when he finally turns back, and you can only imagine the look on your face if you’re eliciting that much concern.

“Yeah, yeah, totally fine, nothing’s wrong. Why are you asking?” you stutter out.

“Because you said you were going to shower five minutes ago, and you haven’t really moved all that much in that time.” You curse yourself again, and you force yourself out of your head.

“Oh! Yeah!” you move off towards the door, grabbing everything you’ve left in a trail to the door, retracing your steps from the night before. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in like twenty minutes?” You didn’t even wait for his reply before pushing the door open and sprinting to your room, not even caring that you hadn’t put your shoes on.

–X–

If you couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when drunk, such as the choice to not be married to your coworker, you probably also couldn’t be trusted to make simple choices when hungover, such as a place to meet your now husband where the rest of your friends wouldn’t see you in your post-sex haze from the night before.

Which is how you found yourself cowering behind a plant in the lobby desperate to avoid being spotted by Agents Rossi and Hotchner who apparently were up and in suits for some godforsaken reason. You tried to get Reid on the phone, but he wasn’t picking up, and you had a flash of him asking you how to put his phone on silent mode from the night before hit you like a tonne of bricks.

“Shit, shit.” Nothing else useful came out of you though, so behind the plant you were waiting for them to approach the elevators so you could continue as planned. While you were in the bathroom, you’d finally noticed the blooming bruises running up the length of your neck, and you found yourself slightly impressed by Reid once again.

He’d managed to tie you up but still pay that much attention to you, and you were equal parts cursing him and desperately hoping the memories would come back to see just what other secrets he was hiding behind that unassuming frame. With the lack of contraception, you really couldn’t be sure that the two of you had had sex in the traditional sense, but you certainly seemed to have had some fun last night, and not being able to remember drove you insane.

Thankfully, the two agents made their way to the elevator without noticing you, and you let out a breath of relief as soon as the elevator dinged, ready to take them as far away from you as you needed. Unfortunately, once again, anytime fate dealt you one good hand, it followed it up with the worst ever, and as the elevator doors opened, there was Reid. You made a mental note to check your bank balance after this, sure that if you had ended up gambling with Reid, you’d most likely bankrupted yourself with this luck.

“Reid, good morning,” Hotch greeted him, and even from your unconventional perch, you could hear the panic in the younger man's voice as he began struggling for excuses to answer questions that hadn’t even been asked yet.

“Hotchner, Rossi, what are you doing here? Well I know what you’re doing here, you’re waiting for an elevator, and I know what you’re doing in the hotel because we’re all here in the hotel, but I mean what are you doing? In general?” It was almost as if he were asking himself that question at the end, trying to work out why the words were even leaving his mouth.

You couldn’t swoop in and save him without the others seeing your new necklace of hickeys and handprints, so you just had to watch him combust adorably in front of the two seasoned FBI Agents.

“Calm down, kid, don’t pull a muscle in that brain of yours, it’s a highly valuable FBI asset.” Rossi joked with him as they switched places, Rossi and Hotch going into the elevator and Reid slinking out.

“Dave and I just finished breakfast. I’m afraid you may have just missed it, Spencer, but there’s a buffet on the third floor that’s supposedly open all day.” Hotch said.

“Actually, I think food isn’t a great idea for me right now.”

“Oh, wild night, kid? No, wait, let me guess, you tracked down a Star Wars convention?”

“I’m more of a fan of Star Trek myself, you know the technology they appeared to have on screen in the show is really fascinating in that it’s-”

“Oh, how unfortunate, door’s closing. See you later, kid.” You breathed a sigh of relief as you watched the elevator climb up to the higher floors of the accommodation and left your perching spot.

“Spencer, over here.” You waved to him a little, and he turned to the sound of your voice, visually relaxing the moment he set his eyes on you.

“You don’t think they noticed I’m acting weird, right?”

“Reid, everytime you mention anything remotely pop-culture-y to Rossi he does his best to erase the conversation from his brain, okay? And Hotch looks like he hasn't slept in a decade. I’m sure they didn’t notice anything.”

“What? I thought Rossi loved our talks, he always says that I’m a riveting conversationalist.”

You just nodded along with him and patted his arm pitifully, leading him out of the lobby and into the waiting streets of Las Vegas, Nevada.

–X–

Twenty minutes later, you were sitting outside of the Marriage License Bureau, waiting to see if your fate was sealed.

“Okay, so what’s our strategy?” you asked, removing your seatbelt and moved to open your door, jumping out of the SUV you’d commandeered from the parking garage.

“Strategy? Why do we need a strategy?” Reid joined you quickly, exiting from the passenger side, satchel in hand.

“Well, I mean, what are we going to ask them, what are we going to do when we’ve found out if this is real or a hoax or not.”

“Y/N, I think you’re overthinking this. This is Nevada, I’m sure they’re used to any questions we might have.” You took a deep breath looking at the doors of the building and tried to rationalise your thoughts. You were going to be fine, it’s just a marriage, nothing too big.

Pushing the doors open, you were floored by the sheer amount of couples on the premises.

“Shit.” You’d cursed more in the last four hours than you had in the last year, almost beginning to worry that it was becoming a habit.

“Please take a number and wait for your turn to be called, our current waiting time is three and a half hours. If you leave the premises at any point, your place will be forfeited,” a bored looking worker with a small microphone called over the crowd as you entered.

“Hi, sorry, is there a help desk of some kind?” you approached and asked her, a sinking feeling growing in your gut. “We just need to see if our wedding licence is valid.”

“Then please take a ticket, and we’ll see you soon.” The other woman replied, frustratingly monotone.

“No, you don’t understand, we’re leaving the state in three hours, we can’t just sit around, we need answers now, legal advice, something.”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if you continue to speak to our staff members in that aggressive way, I’m going to have to ask you to leave the premises,” another member of staff now joined the first.

“Aggressive? I am not aggressive,” you said but you could hear the agitation in your own voice, and the tightness in your shoulders.

“What she means to say,” said Reid from behind you, dropping a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Is that we are FBI agents, leaving town on another case soon, and we would really appreciate your cooperation? I have our marriage licence here. If you could just look over it, it’d only take a few seconds of your time.” The tension rolled off of you in waves, and you melted into his touch as he gladly stepped up to continue your communication.

“Okay, yeah, that definitely seems like a legit licence. You FBI agents, you say?” the first woman questions you, and not trusting yourself not to reply passive aggressively and ruin her cooperative mood, you bite your tongue and just nod.

“My coworker who worked the graveyard shift yesterday mentioned we had a few of you come through. Congratulations on your marriage.” She handed the licence back to you and the pit in the bottom of your stomach grew.

“Is your colleague still here? We just had a few questions about some logistics. We’re out of state, you know?” Reid smiled and you were so thankful for him, for the comforting hand he’d trailed down your shoulder and rested at the small of your back as you stood fidgeting next to him. It took you a minute to realise you were playing with your new wedding ring, already so used to it being there on your finger that you hardly noticed its presence.

“Her next shift starts at 12, but if you’re as desperate for information as I think you are, I’ll have her come see you when she comes in. She’s usually five minutes early anyways.” Reid thanked the woman, and fifteen minutes later, a younger woman with a bright smile was greeting you in the lobby and leading you to a private room in the back.

“Doctor and Mrs. Reid, welcome back! Sandy said you had some follow up questions after yesterday?” she greeted you, and your head started pounding again.

“You remember us?” Reid asked, the confusion knitting his brow as he walked ahead of you.

“I don’t tend to forget husbands as handsome and romantic as you, Doctor.” Something flared in your gut then, anger or protectiveness, but it felt green and red, and you pulled Reid’s hand into your own as she guided you to sit at the table at the far side of the room.

“We’re looking to fill in some gaps in our memory from last night,” you spoke, now not caring to hold back any annoyance in your voice. This woman had written out your marriage licence and yet here she was flirting with your husband. With your Reid. With Reid. Again, the curses jumped to your tongue.

“Ah, I see. One of those.” She shot a smile at Reid, and you shot a look at him as well, but he looked oblivious at her interest and you caught yourself letting out a sigh of relief before turning back to the woman.

“You didn’t realise we were drunk?” you asked her.

“Oh no, we realised. We just assumed you were finally taking the plunge after everything you said. And everything you did, too.”

“Everything we did?” you pushed out, your voice ten times higher than usual. You coughed to make it seem like your throat was just dry, not also housing your entire heart.

“You don’t remember? You two looked so in love. You were all over each other, kissing, touching, whispering and giggling. Honestly, it was just nice to have a couple in love here at 11pm that weren’t trying to have sex in the waiting area.” The blush crept up your neck, and you tried your best to force it back down. Obviously, it didn’t work.

You were about to ask another question, probably about how you would go about getting an annulment, when she finally continued.

“And then when you got the licence you were so happy and you called your friends to come and celebrate with you. You asked for the nearest chapel and we have all that information out in the hall and you said your friends were going to come meet you, so you took off.” She shrugged a little, taking a swig from her coffee. You couldn’t help but feel that even after all of that, she was still eyeing up Spencer, so you squeezed his hand a little bit harder at that, your other hand gravitating to his bicep too, your entire body leaning into his.

“Friends?” Spencer was the first one to wake up to that statement, and your agitation reached its peak.

“Yeah, the two teammates you mentioned. You told everyone they were meeting you at the chapel, that you’d all been here working a case and they were the two that responded to your calls that night.”

“Did we mention any names?” you asked.

“No, just that they were FBI Agents. Is there something wrong?”

–X–

You threw the doors of the building open as you gasped for air, the panic fully setting in now.

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer yelled after you, following you onto the pavement. You could feel the tears welling up in your eyes as you tugged on your hair, mindlessly fretting with it, unconscious to the pain. He finally reached you and pulled your hands into his, forcing you to look up into his eyes.

“Y/N, it’s fine. We’re going to be fine.” He soothed you quickly, and you hiccuped through the small sobs you were now letting out.

“Spencer, two of our friends know that we got married last night, and we don’t know who or how much they know, and now we know that our marriage is legal and you’re stuck with me and I got us into all this mess because I’m an adult who doesn’t want to tell her mom to back off.” By the end of your speech he was cradling your head in his hands, as your tears flowed down your face in messy trails.

“Hey, look at me. You told me this morning that this was not my fault, and I’m telling you now that that doesn't mean it's yours. We’re in this together, okay?” he waited for you to nod before continuing. “Besides, no matter who it was, our team mates love us. They’ll understand.”

“What if we get reassigned? This is a conflict of interests, right, me and you working together like this?” You’d worked so hard to be accepted into the BAU, you didn’t want to let this be your exit, and you sure as hell weren’t letting them fire Spencer for it.

“We’ll talk to Hotch and Rossi, they don't want to lose either of us, and if we get this dealt with quick enough, maybe we won't even have to report it. We could keep it quiet for a while, right?” You knew all of his words made sense, they were the best course of action for the two of you. He’d probably run all of the scenarios through his head while you showered this morning, which is why he was so level-headed. But there was a discomfort that you just couldn’t shake.

“You mean we could get this…annulled?” you asked cautiously, looking into his eyes to gauge his reaction.

“If you want, we can walk right back in there and have it done soon, I’m sure that employee would help us, she seemed friendly-”

“No.” You practically shouted, not wanting to come face to face with that woman again, and watch her flirt with Reid as he signed the annulment paperwork. “I mean, there’s no time, right? We should probably head to the chapel to figure out who our witnesses are and then we’re heading back to Quantico.” You did to rationalise your decision, praying that the jealousy (jealousy?) that you felt didn’t show in your voice or face.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay. Well, we have 21 days from now to file, before the annulment period passes and we’re looking at divorce, which is not favourable for either of us, but we can file from out of state.” You nodded along with his words, glad for the lack of questioning, and that he didn’t clock the hopeful glint to your eye.

“Okay, great. Yeah.” You had calmed down enough now for your proximity to become awkward, and Reid noticed as soon as you did, pulling his hands away from you and taking a step back. Maybe it was the hangover, or just the overwhelming series of emotions you’d been through successively, but it felt wrong suddenly having him so far from you. Shaking it off, you grabbed your keys out of your pocket.

“She said we picked up the information about the chapel from the lobby, right? Can we narrow down which one it is with the photo?” You suggested, suddenly not able to meet his eyes.

“Oh, right, yeah. We’d have had to have been able to get there on foot, too. I’ll go and ask them if they recognise which one it is,” he made to move back in, but you shouted a resounding ‘no’ before he could take another step.

“I’ll do it! I should probably apologise for earlier anyway, right?” you chuckled awkwardly, pushing the doors open and leaving him behind with that confused look set against his skin once again.

–X–

“I’m telling you, we delete the footage from the previous day at noon, I can’t help you.” You’d tracked down the chapel pretty quickly despite all of your options, and now found yourself arguing with a pretty lackluster Elvis impersonator, desperate to figure out any more details about the night before.

“What about staff members that could verify? We just need a vague description.”

“Everyone’s a part-timer here, lady. The people on shift today won't be back for another two days or so. Come back then, okay?” He showed you to the door then, and if you hadn’t gotten drunk and married in Vegas the night before, this would certainly have been your lowest moment.

“Nothing?” Reid asked from his perch on the car.

“They delete the security footage.” You signed in frustration, and he showed a sympathetic smile on his face.

“How do you want to play it, then?” he asked. “Two of them are already going to know, should we just come clean to the entire team, see if they could help?”

“No, god no. As much as it’s my current reality, I don’t really want to have to respond to Mrs. Reid until Morgan gets new material, and no one’s going to be this easy of a target any time soon.”

“Technically speaking, you’d have to apply for a legal name change to become Mrs. Reid, usually couples do it a few days either side of the wedding and start the process of updating all their legal IDs so they can travel internationally for honeymoons without anyone asking questions.”

“Not the point, Reid.”

“And I knew that. Sorry.” It was hard to stay annoyed at him with that small smile stretched across his lips, and you suddenly found yourself wondering just exactly how he'd felt against you.

You’d kissed at the chapel, at the wedding licence office, in his hotel room, and you couldn’t for the life of you remember if you’d been the one to lean in first, or if it’d been him, or if it’d been both of you and what that meant. Did he like you, did you subconsciously want him in this way? Did this even mean anything? And what had those handcuffs been about?

He couldn’t answer most of those questions, and honestly, you weren’t sure you wanted the answers, but it’d been a day of awkward conversations, so you thought you might as well let your curiosity rule you for a few more minutes.

“Spencer, would you mind me asking a personal question?”

“Sure, we are married now. Don’t they say that the number one thing to remember in marriage is communication?” He tried to joke, but you couldn’t laugh as you got ready to spit some of the most horrific words you’d ever strung together out.

“Spencer, do you…do you often use handcuffs? In bed, I mean?” you were bright red, stood outside a 24 hour wedding chapel in the heart of Vegas and you couldn’t believe this was your life.

“Oh.” He was the same shade of red as you, and he stuttered through his next few incoherent words before you found his reply.

“I’ve not done it with the handcuffs before, but I guess I’ve…thought about it? It’s definitely in line with my… Do we have to do this here?”

“Would you rather talk about this on the jet?”

“Do we have to do this at all?” He groaned, shutting his eyes and you could feel the horror at his own actions spreading through his body.

“We are married now. Communication is key, remember?” He sighed and acquiesced, running a hand through his hair before turning back to you and forcing the words out.

“I know you probably didn’t think this about me before, but I am pretty controlling in bed. I don’t like feeling… hopeless, and it just manifests as dominance, okay? It’s been a while since I had a partner though, so the handcuffs were new to me, but I’ve tied girls up before. Now can we stop this conversation here before someone on this very public street hears us?”

“Okay, yeah sure. That actually makes a lot of sense really.” You said, nodding and moving to get into the car. You tried to keep your thoughts to yourself, knowing that the knowledge of his preferences was going to plague your dreams for the next few nights.

“You don’t have to lie, Y/N, I know I don’t seem like the type.” He got into the passenger side next to you, and you ignored looking at him in the mirrors desperately as you started the engine and made your way back to the hotel.

“No, I mean it makes sense that it happened to us. I don’t think we would’ve ended up in bed together if we weren’t so… compatible.” You let the silence sit between you as you let him take in your words, driving to the orchestra of midday strip traffic.

“Oh.” He said. “Oooh.” He finally caught on, and you felt your head turning in his direction, but you forced it back towards the road, convincing yourself that you really didn’t need to see his reaction, to study his expressions.

“Well, at least we know that we both enjoyed it then.” You weren’t sure if he was just oblivious, or trying to get a reaction from you, but nonetheless, your heart clenched at that, excitement rising in your stomach.

You convinced yourself that it was probably just the alcohol, and drove in silence back to the hotel, ready for your departure.

--X--

🏷️ @w-windyy @multifandom-on-the-side @reidandhotchsgirl @babybluecakes @bluecandycake @hugyourlungs @prentissesredtanktop @reidscaffeine @bethanyhaas01 @average-sunflower @academiareid @sailortongue @lover-of-books-and-tea @star0055 @daddy-dotcom @zaapsite @high-functioning-cosplayer @anniewhalelover @abbyshmaby @isabel-ffl-xoxo @sujan39 @frxcless @bluestuesday @busy-buzzing @breadbrobin @maxinehufflepuffprincess @l0v3cam @booksandwonderlands @myescapefromthislife @kat453 @ferrjulie @kapeyama @scoobydoopoo @aelinismyqueen @littlesingingbean @jamiemuscatosslut @sharkcat1928 @xohoneybun @anchovy89freya @dysphoricsanity @alyssaxstan @ghostheartbeat @zada-quinn @beguiling3lavender @Casss2111 @zatannas-wand @rebloggiest-reblogger @wishyoudaskme @imawhoreforu @kspencer34 @academiacoffeelover @softservepunk

1K notes · View notes

and-claudia · 1 month ago

Text

Little Sundress (Charles Xavier x Fem!Reader) SMUT!! DAY 1 of KINKTOBER

Set during First Class

Warnings: sundress kink, oral (f receiving), I think that is it, let me know if I missed one though!!

Wordcount: 1500+

Being in Charle’s childhood home was interesting, to say the least. He and I had very different upbringings, and seeing how massive this place truly was only seemed to prove that more.

“And here is the kitchen.” He said, “I know it’s not anything crazy b-”

“I love it.” I said, cutting him off.

He turned to me and smiled.

“It’s charming. And honestly, anything is better than our tiny one back in Oxford.” I said with a laugh.

“Well, I am glad you like it. And you do know, you don’t have to cook for all of us.” He said, stepping closer and placing his hands on my hips.

“I know, but I want to. Plus, it will make me feel more helpful… my mutation isn’t the most useful in a fight.” I said, looking down.

“That won’t be the case much longer, dear. That’s why we’re here to train and grow our abilities. I believe you’ll be able to copy any mutation of anyone at any time without touching them by the time we’re done.” He said, using his thumb and pointer finger to grab my chin and tilt it up to look at him.

I smiled at him, “I hope so.”

I didn’t actually say it to him out loud. Since he was touching my face, I was able to say it to him telepathically.

Charles finished showing me around and ended in the room we’d be staying in. I took some time to unpack while he went off to do his own thing. Once all my clothes were unpacked I decided to take the chance to shower before I went down stairs to make dinner. We had been traveling all day so I felt a little gross and I knew a shower would feel amazing, especially since I would be getting the hot water before everyone else.

When I got out, I decided to throw on one of my sun dresses. It was always so rainy in Oxford I hardly ever got a chance to wear them, so I intended to take full advantage of that. I threw on some simple kitten heels so that I wasn’t walking across the mansion barefoot. Then, I made a few adjustments to my outfit before heading out.

On my way to the kitchen I passed a few Raven.

“Why are you all dressed up? Are you and Charles going out or something?” She asked, slightly confused.

“No, not tonight. I am actually just on my way to make everyone dinner. I just never really got to where these dresses often, so I figured I’d take advantage.” I said.

“Make sure you make it to the kitchen before Charles sees you. He won’t be able to keep his hands to himself once he sees you, and I’d like to make sure we get fed tonight.” She teased, and I just laughed and rolled my eyes before continuing to the kitchen.

Once I got there I set about getting everything I would need for dinner ready. I was just beginning to chop the vegetables when Erik, Charles and Hank all walked in.

“Hello, boys,” I said, spinning around to greet them, causing the dress to flow out.

Erik and Hank both said their own hellos, but Charles was too busy staring… I was starting to think Raven may have been right.

“Dinner will be ready in probably half an hour.” I informed them.

“Do you want some help?” Hank offered.

I was about to tell him that he could help finish chopping while I got the chicken in the oven, but Charles cut me off before I could.

“I got it, I can help her… you two go ahead and… yeah.” He said, clearly already a little flustered as he walked over to help me. Luckily, the other two men got the hint and left us alone in the kitchen.

“Well, that was smooth, Charlie…” I teased.

“What?”

“I got it, I can help her… you two go ahead and… yeah.” I mocked his voice as I repeated what he had just said.

“Well, can you blame me?” He asked, turning to look me over, not even the slightest bit ashamed of the way his hungry eyes racked over my body.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I said, stepping past him to grab something from the fridge, but he caught my arm.

“Oh, but you do. It doesn’t take a telepath to know that… but it is useful being one because now I know that you have nothing on under there.” He said, reaching for the hem of my dress but I smacked his hand away.

“I gotta cook dinner.” I said, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek but he turned his head and I kissed his lips instead which he immediately took advantage of that. His hands gripped my hips as he pulled me against him.

“Mm, I’d rather start with dessert.” He said against my lips as he grinded his hips against me.

“Charles, we can’t. Not here.” I said.

“Who said? It’s my house, I should be able to fuck my girlfriend wherever I please…” In one swift motion, he turned us around so that my back was now to the table that sat in the middle of the room, “And right now, it would please me to fuck her right here.”

Without our lips separating, he lifted me up onto the table as we continued to make out. His hands slid down to my knees, and he pulled them apart so he could stand between them.

“What if someone walks in?” I asked, glancing over to the door.

“Don’t worry about that, darling.” He said, subtly inching my dress up higher and higher.

He finally broke away from the kiss and gave me a look before dropping down to kneel on one knee between my legs.

“You should wear these more often, love.” He said as he began planting kisses along the inside of my thigh.

He left a trail of kisses and a few love bites all the way up my inner thigh. Then, when he reached where I wanted his lips the most, he hesitated. I felt the cool air of him sighing so close, sending a chill up my spine. I was mentally preparing myself to feel his tongue delving into my cunt. So, when I felt his lips press to my other thigh and begin working their way back down it, I accidentally let a small whimper slip through my lips.

“So impatient.” He mumbled, and I could feel his smirking against my skin.

“No, you’re just a fucking tease.” I sighed.

“Oh really? Maybe I should just let you get back to cooking then.” He said, going to stand up.

I reached forward and caught his shoulder, pushing him back down, “Don’t you dare. You’re going to eat me out.” I said to him telepathically.

“As you wish.”

He dropped back down and went straight the my cunt. No time was wasted as he began fucking me with his mouth. His tongue was working wonders. I was trying so hard not to let anyone hear me.

Suddenly, he pulled away and looked up at me. His lips were shining with a mix of my wetness and his own spit.

“No, let them hear you, darling.” He said. His eyes were the darkest I had ever seen them.

He didn’t even wait for me to respond before going back to lapping at my cunt. His nose was now also rubbing up against my clit, sending me soaring towards ecstasy.

“Fuck, Charles, keep going.” I said, running my hands through his hair, pulling it lightly, which earned a grunt from him that I felt vibrate up through my cunt.

I could feel that oh so familiar and welcom feeling of the coil tightening, knowing it would snap soon from the tension. Charles must have felt that I was getting close too because he began to speed up.

“You taste so good, love.” He said to me telepathically, “Wish I could eat you out every day.”

“Charles…” I moaned out loud, not caring that I could hear my moans echoing off the walls.

“Go ahead, darling, come all over my tongue.”

“Fuck!” I moaned as I came.

Charles refused to let a single drop of my release go to waste as he lapped up every bit of it. Once he was done, he pulled back, chin wet with a mix of my release and his own spit. As he stood, he grabbed the rag from off the table and used it to wipe his chin, and only his chin, before he leaned over to kiss me, allowing me to taste myself on his lips. The kiss was so soft and gentle that I never wanted it to end. That was until I smelt something burning.

I reluctantly pulled away and glanced around him.

“Fuck, the chicken burned.” I said.

Charles turned around and just turned the oven off.

“Oh well, that gives me more time to fuck you… where shall we take it next? My new office, perhaps?” He asked.

The thought did excite me, but what was everyone supposed to do for dinner now?

“Change of plans. Go into town for dinner tonight.” Charles said to everyone in the house using his mind.

“Problem solved.” He said before leaning in to give me another kiss, “So… my office?” He asked, raising his eyebrow at me.

Kinktober taglist:

@comicbookslut

#young charles xavier #charles xavier headcannons #charles x reader smut #charles x reader #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier smut #professor x smut #kinktober day 1 #kinktober 2024

261 notes · View notes

snowysosturn · 2 months ago

Text

Speeding Car - Matt Sturniolo Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

Pairing : y/n x Matt Sturniolo

Summary : After six years with your boyfriend Alex, you start to mentally check out. At a UCLA party, Alex reconnects with his childhood friend Emily, who proposes a double date with her boyfriend Matt. Your attraction to Matt grows as he pays you the first real attention you've had in years, sparking a complicated emotional journey.

Warnings : (This is actually now the longest chapter so far, 6.3k words, a lot does happen but good jesus just wait for the next few, will try my best to keep word counts down but cant guarentee!) MDNI, angst, fluff, tension, guilt, cheating (do not), betrayal, suggestive

Matt’s POV

As the night passed by, we both started to drift off, the warmth of her body curled up against mine calming me into a deep, peaceful sleep. It was the kind of sleep that comes after a long day, after a whirlwind of emotions, content but heavy, like my body was finally letting go of all the tension I’d been holding onto.

At some point, I woke up. The room was still and dark, the only sound being the gentle rhythm of Y/n's breathing beside me. I blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess. I wondered what time it was so I reached for my jacket for my phone. Only to realise I hadn’t brought it in with me, I left it in the car. I felt a slight pang of anxiety. Nick and Chris were probably wondering where the hell I was, and I hadn’t even thought to check in.

Carefully, I reached over Y/n, my fingers brushing against her phone on the nightstand. I tapped the screen, squinting at the sudden burst of light. 2:42 AM. It was later than I thought. But what really caught my eye was the mountain of notifications on her screen, texts from Alex, trying to reach her.

A tightness settled in my chest as I stared at the notifications. I didn’t read them, but I could imagine the contents. I didn’t want to think about Alex or Emily right now, but reality was creeping back in, reminding me of the complications we’d have to face.

I sighed quietly, not wanting to wake Y/n, but knowing I needed to figure out what to do next. I carefully started to slide out of bed, trying not to disturb her, but she shifted slightly as I moved, her eyelids fluttering open.

“Matt?” she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

“Shh, it’s okay” I whispered, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

But she was already awake, her eyes focusing on me in the dim light. “Where are you going?” she asked, her voice tinged with concern.

“I just realized I left my phone in the car” I explained softly. “I’m going to grab it, and then I’ll be back.”

She nodded sleepily, her hand reaching out to touch my arm as if to anchor me there for just a moment longer. “Don’t take too long” she whispered, her eyes already starting to close again.

“I won’t” I promised, leaning down to kiss her once more, this time on her lips, a lingering, gentle kiss that I hoped would reassure her.

I slowly pulled away, slipping out of bed and quietly making my way to the door. I paused for a moment, glancing back at her, her figure outlined softly by the glow of the street lights outside. Even in the dim light, she looked peaceful, beautiful.

With a deep breath, I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, closing it gently behind me. I opened the front door and made my way down to the car. But as I walked, the weight of what had just happened began to press down on me. We’d crossed a line, one that couldn’t be uncrossed, and I wasn’t sure what came next. All I knew was that, for the first time in a long time, I felt like I was exactly where I was supposed to be..

The car sat parked out front, dimly lit by the street lights, and I could see my phone lying on the passenger seat through the window. As I reached the car, I unlocked it and opened the door, grabbing my phone and immediately tapping on the screen.

The screen lit up, and the notifications began to flood in. First from Emily, then Nick, and finally Chris. My stomach tightened as I saw Emily’s name at the top of the list. I hadn’t wanted to deal with this yet, but it seemed I didn’t have a choice.

Emily had sent a string of messages:

“Matt, where are you?”

“Why aren’t you answering me?”

“Who are you with?”

“Are you with Y/n? Tell me the truth.”

“Matt, answer me. Don’t ignore me like this.”

My jaw clenched as I scrolled through her texts. Her tone was sharp, accusatory. Then there were the missed calls - several from her, and one from Nick.

I swiped over to Nick’s messages next, hoping for something less stressful:

“Bitch, where’d you go?”

“Can you let me know you’re good? We haven’t heard from you.”

“Chris is getting worried, Nate is literally consoling him because he thinks you’re dead. Let us know you’re okay.”

Chris’s messages were much the same, filled with concern rather than annoyance. They weren’t used to me disappearing like this, especially without a word. They were probably wondering if something had happened.

I leaned back against the car seat, staring at the screen as if it might offer some sort of solution. Emily was spiraling, Nick and Chris were worried, and I was caught in the middle of it all, not wanting to explain where I’d been or what I’d been doing.

Taking a deep breath, I decided to start with Nick and Chris. I shot off a quick text to both of them:

“Hey, sorry for disappearing. I’m fine don’t worry, I’ll explain tomorrow.”

That should hold them off for now.

Then I turned back to Emily’s messages, hesitating for a moment before typing out a response. I wasn’t in the mood to argue or get into anything with her, not after the night I’d just had. But I knew if I didn’t answer, it would only get worse.

“Emily, I’m fine. I’ll call you in the morning.” I typed out, but before I could send it, another message from her popped up.

“If you’re with Y/n, I swear to God, Matt. Don’t you dare lie to me.”

My frustration spiked as I read her words. I’d had enough for one night. I deleted the message I was going to send and locked the phone, shoving it into my pocket.

Leaning back against the car, I took a moment to gather my thoughts. The cool breeze helped clear my head a bit, but it didn’t ease the frustration building up inside me. I needed to figure out how to handle this, how to deal with Emily and everything that had happened tonight. But for now, I just wanted to get back to Y/n.

As I walked back up the steps to Y/n’s apartment, the weight of everything that had happened started to settle in. I knew I couldn’t just stay the night, not without raising more questions - questions I wasn’t ready to answer. Nick and Chris were already worried, and disappearing like this wasn’t something I typically did. If I stayed, it would only complicate things further, especially when I had a girlfriend.

Reaching the door, I hesitated for a moment before letting myself in. The apartment was quiet, the only sound was the faint buzz of the city outside. I made my way back to Y/n’s room, the warmth of the space immediately comforting after the cold outside.

Y/n was lying in bed, her eyes half closed as she looked up at me. The sight of her, wrapped up in the sheets, made me want to crawl back in beside her and forget about everything else. But I knew I couldn’t. Not tonight.

“Hey” I said softly, trying to keep my voice even. “I need to go.”

Her eyes opened wider, a mix of confusion and concern flashing across her face. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“Nick and Chris are getting worried” I explained, sitting on the edge of the bed. “It’s not like me to just disappear like that, and I can’t exactly say I’m staying with you… It would be a bit suspicious.”

She nodded slowly, her expression understanding but tinged with disappointment. “Yeah, I get it.”

I reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow, though.”

She gave me a small smile, but I could see the conflict in her eyes. “Okay.”

Leaning down, I pressed a kiss to her forehead, lingering for a moment longer than necessary. I wanted to stay. I wanted to be here with her, but I knew the reality of the situation wouldn’t allow it.

“I’ll text you when I get home” I promised as I stood up, trying to reassure both her and myself.

She nodded again, her eyes following me as I moved toward the door. I paused for a second, taking in the sight of her one last time before forcing myself to turn away.

“Goodnight, Y/n.”

“Goodnight, Matt.”

I left the apartment, the door closing softly behind me, and the sense of finality hit me like a ton of bricks. But for now, I had to focus on getting home and figuring out how to navigate the tangled mess of emotions and responsibilities that awaited me there.

When I finally pulled into the garage, I could see the lights still on in the house. I hoped, for once, that Nick and Chris had called it a night. The last thing I needed was to explain where I’d been and make things even more complicated. But, of course, things never seemed to go that smoothly.

I opened the door from the garage into the hallway, trying to sneak past Chris’ room without a sound. As soon as the door clicked shut behind me, I heard the floor creak and Chris’ voice came from his room, full of concern, while Nate was passed out on his bed.

“Matt, holy fuck, where have you been? You worried me.” Chris said, stepping into the hallway, his eyes wide with worry.

Before I could fully process a response, I heard Nick’s footsteps coming down the stairs from the kitchen. Great. Just what I needed - a late night interrogation from both of them.

“I’m fine, man” I started, trying to sound as casual as possible. “I was with Y/n. She needed to vent about Alex, so we went for a walk.”

Chris seemed to relax a bit, but I could see the curiosity still flickering in his eyes. Nick, on the other hand, looked less convinced as he joined us at the bottom of the stairs, crossing his arms.

“Oh, I’m surprised she didn’t text me to talk..” Nick said, his voice full of suspicion.

I forced a shrug, trying to play it off like it was no big deal. Lie again. “Yeah, I guess she just thought it would be easier, you know? Since I’m with Emily.. and she’s with Alex.. and they’re away together right now..”

I could see the cogs turning in Nick's head. “That’s fair.” He said with a nod.

Chris seemed to accept it straight away, nodding slowly. “Okay, but next time, just shoot us a text or something. You know, so we don’t think you’ve gone missing or whatever.”

I nodded, grateful that he was letting it go. “Yeah, I will. Sorry about that.”

Nick still looked a little suspicious, but he didn’t press any further. Instead, he just gave me a nod and turned to head back upstairs. “Alright. Just don’t disappear like that again.”

“Got it” I said, trying to sound as sincere as possible.

As they both headed back to their rooms, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. That was too close. I had to be more careful going forward. This double life I was starting to live was already beginning to catch up with me, and I couldn’t afford any more slip ups. Not when everything was hanging by a thread.

Y/n’s POV

After Matt left, I sat there for a moment, the room suddenly feeling much emptier without him in it. I reached for my phone, not really expecting much, but when the screen lit up, a flood of notifications greeted me. All from Alex.

I hesitated for a moment before opening my messages, curiosity getting the better of me despite the dread I felt in the pit of my stomach. As soon as I saw Alex's name, the reality of everything came rushing back.

There were several texts, all sent in quick succession. The first few were relatively tame, almost normal.

Alex: "Hey, you okay? Haven’t heard from you in a bit."

"Miss you, babe. Did you hear anything from the board yet? I’m stressin’ out over here."

But then they started to take a different tone.

Alex: "Why aren't you responding?" "Y/n, what's going on?" "Did I do something wrong? Just talk to me."

His last message, sent just minutes ago, made my stomach turn.

Alex: "Are you seriously ignoring me? I’m starting to lose it over here. I haven’t done anything wrong. Please just answer me."

I stared at the screen, my heart heavy with guilt. I should have responded, but what could I even say? The truth was, I couldn’t bring myself to care as much as I used to. Not after everything that had happened between us - or rather, everything that hadn’t happened but should have.

My thoughts were still on Matt, the way he made me feel something I hadn’t felt in a long time. Something real, something more than the hollow connection I’d been clinging to with Alex.

But seeing these messages.. it brought everything crashing back down. The reality of my relationship with Alex, the fact that he was still out there, believing we were okay. That he was still my boyfriend.

But after what Jess had told me, and after what I know now, how could I continue on with him? It wasn’t just about me anymore. It was about everything he had done - things I could no longer ignore, things that made it impossible for me to keep pretending.

Still, I couldn't help but wonder if Matt might be regretting everything. Maybe he didn’t want to get involved in this mess. Maybe he was already pulling away.

What if Matt was regretting everything? What if that’s the real reason he left? The thought clawed at me, making my chest tighten with uncertainty. He had to go home to his brothers, sure, but what if he was using that as an excuse?

What if he doesn’t really like me like that?

I replayed the night over and over in my mind, analyzing every little thing he’d said, every touch, every glance. It all felt so real in the moment, so intense. But now, alone in the silence of my apartment, it was easy to start questioning everything.

“My girl.”

The memory of him calling me that during our time together stuck in my mind, refusing to let go. He wouldn’t say that if he didn’t mean it, right? He wouldn’t have looked at me the way he did, wouldn’t have touched me with such tenderness, if it didn’t mean something to him.. right?

But then again, people say a lot of things in the heat of the moment. Maybe it was just that - a moment. Maybe, now that he’s had time to think about it, he’s regretting it. Regretting me.

I shook my head, trying to push the thoughts away, but they clung to me stubbornly. I didn’t know what to think, didn’t know what to feel. Everything was so confusing, so tangled up in emotions that I didn’t know how to sort through.

What I did know was that I couldn’t stop thinking about him. About the way he made me feel, about the way I wanted more. And that scared me. Because wanting more from Matt meant stepping into territory that was messy and complicated. Territory that could end up hurting both of us.

But as much as I tried to reason with myself, the truth was, I didn’t want to let go of the memory of him. Of the way he made me feel like I was the only person in the world that mattered. The way he looked at me, touched me, spoke to me.

I didn’t want to lose that. Not yet.

So, I clung to the hope that maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way. That “my girl” wasn’t just something he said in the moment, but something he meant. Something he wanted. Something that wasn’t going to disappear with the morning light.

As I lay in bed, still tangled in my thoughts, my phone buzzed again. A message from Matt.

Matt: "Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home safe. Talk to you tomorrow?"

A wave of relief washed over me. The simple message brought me back from the edge of my spiraling thoughts. If Matt had regretted anything, surely he wouldn't have bothered to check in. The knot in my stomach loosened just a bit, and I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

I placed my phone on the nightstand, trying to let the comfort of Matt’s words put me back to sleep. But just as I was about to close my eyes, another notification lit up my screen. This time, it was from Nick.

Nick 💜: "Hey, just checking in. Matt mentioned you needed to vent about Alex. You okay? Want to meet up for brunch tomorrow?"

I stared at the message, feeling a mix of emotions. Matt had covered for us, but Nick was still concerned. It made sense, he was always looking out for me. Part of me felt guilty for dragging Matt into this, for making things more complicated. But another part of me was grateful. Grateful for the friends I had, even if things were getting messier by the day.

I quickly typed out a response.

Me: "Thanks for checking in, Nick. I’m okay. Brunch sounds good."

I hit send and then put my phone down again, hoping that this time, sleep would come a little easier. But even as I closed my eyes, my mind was still racing, trying to make sense of everything that had happened tonight. Everything that was yet to come.

The next morning, I got up after a good lie in, feeling all of the emotions still from last night. After a quick shower, I dressed casually and headed out to meet Nick, Matt, and Chris for brunch. I decided to make my own way there, as where we were meeting was right in the middle for both of us.I knew they had to go out of their way to drop Nate off at the airport. He decided he was going to meet some friends in Hawaii for a few days and would come back and stay with the triplets after.

As I walked into the small cafe we’d picked, I spotted them at a corner table. Matt saw me first and gave me a small, reassuring smile that I tried to return. Nick was busy reading through the menu, and Chris was sipping on his can of Pepsi. I slid into the seat beside Matt, catching Nick’s attention.

“Hey, you made it” Nick said with a warm grin. “How’re you feeling?”

I nodded, trying to keep things light. “Uh, better, yeah.. Thanks for checking in last night.”

Chris glanced between the two of us, raising an eyebrow. “So, what’s the story with Alex? You okay?”

Matt’s hand briefly brushed against my knee under the table, a subtle, comforting gesture that did more for me than any words could have.

I took a deep breath. “Honestly, it’s been complicated. Alex and I.. we’re not in a good place, and I think last night everything just got brought to the surface.”

Nick nodded, looking genuinely concerned. “I’m sorry, Y/n. You deserve better than to be dealing with all that.”

I appreciated their support, but they didn’t know the whole truth. I knew it was time to address Alex’s messages. I’d avoided them long enough, and the longer I waited, the more it felt like a weight hanging over me. I excused myself from the table, asking Matt to order me the blueberry pancakes if a waitress came around.

I walked to the bathroom and into a stall. I pulled out my phone, the screen lighting up with a new string of messages from Alex. I stared at them, feeling a strange mix of anger and pity. I knew I had to reply, to say something that would put this to rest. But I also knew that I couldn’t give him the comfort he was looking for, not when I’d already made up my mind about us.

With a deep breath, I began to type.

Me:"Alex, I got the email from the board. You’re suspended for another six weeks, and they’ve stripped your captaincy. I’m sorry, but I think we need to talk when you get back. There are some things we need to figure out."

It was blunt, but I couldn’t bring myself to sugarcoat it. The truth was, our relationship was already over, I was just waiting for him to realize it too.

But I couldn't bring myself to hit send. I deleted the whole paragraph I’d typed out. I knew it was something I had to say in person. I knew the conversation wouldn’t be easy, but it was necessary. Instead I typed something small, enough to keep him at bay for the minute.

Me:

“Sorry Alex, trying to adjust back to normal times at work. Been sleeping a lot, it’ll probably be hard to keep in contact with the time difference. Hope you and Emily are having a good time.”

I alluded to the fact I knew about them, but he’s not smart enough to pick that up. I locked my phone and left the bathroom stall, washing my hands before returning to the table.

Nick’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. “You okay?”

I looked up at him, then over at Matt, who was watching me with those deep, thoughtful eyes. “Yeah” I said finally. “I think I’m starting to be.”

Our food was ordered, and the conversation moved on to lighter topics - funny memories from past hangouts, Matt and Chris' latest obsession with some new video game called Chained Together, and Nick’s plans for the rest of the week.

Despite the unresolved tension in my life, being there with them, made me feel grounded. And for the first time in a long while, I felt like I was on the verge of something better, something that was entirely my own.

And that’s how the next six days went - almost every spare waking minute was spent together, either hanging out at my place or at Matt’s, with Nick and Chris always nearby. It was nice getting to spend time with everyone, the four of us laughing, joking, and enjoying each other’s company. The comfortable camaraderie made it easy to forget about the complications lurking in the background.

But as much as I loved being around them, I couldn’t help but wish for more alone time with Matt. It felt like every moment we spent together in the group was shadowed by the tension that simmered just below the surface, a constant reminder of the connection we were both trying so hard to keep under wraps, trying our best to not advertise our secret.

But the secret flirting between us grew bolder, the brief touches and lingering glances becoming harder to ignore. We’d catch each other’s eye across the room, and it was like everything else faded away. A shared look would send my heart racing, my thoughts spiraling into places they shouldn’t go - at least not while I was still technically with Alex, and Matt was still with Emily.

But the more time we spent together, the harder it became to mask our feelings. The jokes between us had a sharper edge, the teasing carrying a weight that neither of us acknowledged but both of us felt. Every accidental brush of our hands, every moment when our eyes locked a little too long, built up the tension until it was almost unbearable.

It was a strange, exhilarating mix of excitement and frustration. On one hand, I craved the thrill of these secret moments with Matt, the way they made me feel alive in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. But on the other, it was exhausting, trying to navigate this complicated web of emotions without letting anyone else see what was really going on.

By the end of each day, I was left feeling restless, my mind racing with thoughts of what could be if things were different - if we didn’t have to hide, if we could just be honest about how we felt. But for now, we had to play the part, keeping our feelings under wraps while the tension between us continued to grow, day by day.

It was less than 48 hours before Alex and Emily came home and the time loomed over me like a ticking clock, counting down to the inevitable confrontation. The anxiety of what was to come spun at the back of my mind, but I tried to push it aside. There was still a day and a half more to enjoy before everything had to change.

I had half an hour left of my shift, Jess had been by my side the whole time as we packed the shelves. I filled her in on everything that had happened - well, almost everything. I left out the kiss and the intimacy between Matt and I, not ready to divulge those parts just yet. Even so, she was shocked when she found out I knew Matt as well as I did.

"You and Matt?" she asked, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. "I had no idea you two were that close. That's.. Wow."

“Well I'm friends with his brothers too, let's not forget that.” I said, almost cutting her off.

I could see the excitement bubbling up in her, the way she was practically glowing with the idea of me and Matt together. But I had to play it down, remind her of the reality of the situation. "Jess, we're technically both still in relationships" I said, trying to sound more resigned than I actually felt. "And Matt.. he's still oblivious to everything that happened between Alex and Emily."

Jess gave me a sympathetic look but then smirked, nudging me with her elbow. "He doesn’t know?! Bitch you need to tell him so you two can get a move on."

I sighed, a small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. I don’t know why I hadn’t told Matt yet. The whole situation freaked me out, and I could never seem to find the right time to tell him.

When my shift finally ended, I stepped outside to see Matt waiting for me in his car. Hangouts the last week were a given, so I expected to see him as soon as I walked outside the Target doors. The sight of him instantly lifted my mood, pushing the lingering worries to the back of my mind. I slipped into the passenger seat, and as we drove off, Matt mentioned everyone’s plans for the evening.

“I’m warning you in advance that Nick and Chris are heading to our friend Tara’s party tonight” Matt said casually. “I’ve decided I’m not going, but they’re probably going to try and persuade you to go too.”

A small thrill of excitement ran through me. "So, it'll just be us?"

Matt nodded, glancing over at me with a slight grin. "Just us."

The rest of the drive was filled with comfortable conversation and shared laughter, the tension between us still there, but softened by the ease of each other’s company. As much as I tried to keep my feelings in check, I couldn’t help but look forward to the time we’d have alone.

When we arrived at Matt’s place, Nick and Chris were already getting ready to leave for the party. “Heyyyyy bitchessss!” Nick called out, waving us over. “We were just about to head out to Tara’s party. You’re coming, right?”

Matt shook his head, already anticipating the direction this conversation was going. “Nah, I’m definitely going to pass. You guys go have fun.”

Chris wasn’t having it, though. “Come on, Matt! You’re always turning down these things. It’ll be fun. Plus, Tara’s been asking about you.”

Matt rolled his eyes, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah, I’m sure she has. But seriously, I’m good. I just want to chill tonight.”

Nick joined in, trying a different tactic. “What about you, Y/n? You’re up for a party, right? You could help us convince Matt.”

I glanced at Matt, who was watching me with an amused expression. I shook my head, siding with him. “I’m with Matt on this one. I’m actually quite tired after work.”

Nick sighed dramatically. “You two are such party poopers.” He pointed a finger at Matt, smirking. “But don’t think this is over, Matt. You’re coming to the next one, no excuses.”

“Yeah, yeah” Matt said, waving him off. “I’ll think about it.”

With that, Nick and Chris finally relented, grabbing their things and heading out the door to their Uber. “Have fun doing whatever boring stuff you two are planning.” Chris called out as they left.

The door closed behind them, and just like that, the house was quiet again. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the counter with a satisfied grin.

“Well, that was easier than I thought” he said with a chuckle.

I smiled back, while sitting myself down on the couch, feeling a sense of relief that we had the place to ourselves. “Yeah, I’m glad they didn’t push too hard.”

Matt pushed off the counter, walking over to where I was sat. “So, what do you want to do now that it’s just us?”

The way he said it sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to remind myself to breathe. “Honestly, just hanging out sounds perfect.”

Matt nodded, his eyes never leaving mine. “Yeah, it does.”

Matt sat down on the couch, and it was like a magnet pulling us together. Our lips met in a heated kiss, and I could feel every worry and thought slipping away as we got lost in each other. His hands moved over my body, each touch sending shivers down my spine. He pushed me further down the couch as I felt his lips trailing down my neck, warm and insistent, lifting my shirt to continue the path of kisses lower, making my breath hitch.

But just as I was getting lost in the moment, a nagging voice in the back of my mind grew louder. Jess’s words from earlier were echoing in my head, reminding me of the truth I’d been holding back. It felt wrong to be here with Matt, to be sneaking around with him while this massive secret hung over us. I couldn’t keep it from him any longer.

“Matt” I said, my voice breaking as I pulled away slightly. I could see the confusion and concern in his eyes as he looked at me.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone soft, but there was an edge of worry in his voice.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady myself, but the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I found out Alex cheated on me” I said, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might burst out of my chest. “That’s what the fight was about… Alex and Emily.”

The change in Matt’s expression was instant. His face went pale, and the warmth in his eyes was replaced with shock and disbelief. “Emily?” he whispered, almost as if he couldn’t believe it. “Emily cheated on me.. with Alex?”

I nodded, my throat tight with emotion. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn’t hold them back. The guilt, the pain, the betrayal - it all came crashing down on me at once. “I’m so sorry, Matt,” I choked out, the tears now streaming down my face. “I didn’t want to keep this from you. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Matt stared at me, his mind racing as he tried to piece it all together. “How long have you known?” he asked, his voice strained.

I wiped at my tears, though they kept coming. “Since the day you took me skating” I admitted. “One of my friends, a co-worker told me.. she was there when it happened..the night of the fight, she didn’t know if she should tell me. But I had to know the truth, even if it hurt.”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, looking down at the floor as if trying to process what I had just told him. “I can’t believe this” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “I mean we’re no better but atleast now it makes sense.”

“I’m sorry, Matt” I said again, my voice trembling. “Once I knew what happened I knew things were done with me and Alex.. but then even the condom box in my top drawer.. I was there when Alex bought them.. we hadn’t used them because, well, our sex life had died over a year ago.”

Matt’s eyes snapped back to mine, confusion and dread clouding his gaze. “Wait.. but the box was open?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.

We locked eyes, both of us knowing where this conversation was leading but unwilling to face it head on. The implications of what we were realizing were almost too much to bear.

“Yeah..” I whispered, nodding slowly. “And a couple were missing, I checked when you left.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his face tightening as the full weight of the situation settled in. I felt a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner, the whole guilt side of this thing between us would’ve been eliminated if I had just told you.” I repeated, feeling utterly helpless.

Matt’s expression softened slightly as he reached up to wipe away the tears on my cheeks. His touch was gentle, despite the storm of emotions raging inside him. “I wish you had told me sooner” he said, his voice heavy with emotion. “But I get why you didn’t. It’s a lot to process.”

“I didn’t want to hurt you” I said, my voice breaking. “But I didn’t want to keep lying to you either.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he reached out to gently cup my face in his hands. "I appreciate you telling me" he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "It couldn’t have been easy, but I’m glad you did. We can’t change what’s happened, but we can decide what happens next."

I nodded, swallowing hard.

Matt was silent for a moment, his eyes distant as he thought. Then he looked back at me, his gaze intense, processing everything I’d just told him. "So does Alex know that you know he cheated?" he asked carefully, as if trying to tread lightly on a subject that was already fraught with tension.

I shook my head. "No, I’m waiting until he’s back to confront him. I also got an email from the Bruins Board of Management.. A six-week suspension and his captaincy stripped for good. But he doesn’t know either of these things yet."

Matt looked genuinely surprised. "Six weeks? And they took away his captaincy? On top of losing you in all of this? Damn.. That’s going to hit him hard."

"Yeah.." I agreed. "But honestly, after everything, I’m not feeling too sympathetic."

Matt nodded, understanding. "Emily’s definitely clueless about the whole situation too. She’s been so up my ass lately, constantly checking where I am. It makes sense now - she was projecting, worried I’d find out because she was doing it herself."

I hesitated for a moment, then decided to tell him what Jess had mentioned. "Jess overheard a conversation in the girls’ bathroom that night too.. She said something along the lines of Emily was bragging to her friends, saying she only likes you for the attention and for your money, but she also likes Alex and she somehow thinks she can have you both at the same time, she just needs me out of the way first."

Matt’s face darkened, a mixture of anger and disgust flashing in his eyes. "So that’s why she’s been so weird about you being around. It wasn’t just jealousy - it was guilt." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. "You know she demanded that I didn’t hang out with you alone anymore. That’s why I went MIA for a month after the fight.. I’m so sorry Y/n for being so stupid.”

I felt a burn in my chest, knowing that Emily had tried to control him like that. "No Matt, don't apologise.. I had no idea she was doing that to you."

He shook his head, his expression softening as he looked at me. "I should’ve seen it sooner, but I was too caught up in trying to keep things smooth with her. I didn’t want to believe she was capable of this."

"And I should’ve confronted Alex sooner" I added, feeling the weight of my own choices. "But I was scared. I didn’t want to face the reality of what was happening."

Matt reached out, taking my hand in his. "We’re both dealing with a lot of shit, but at least we’re in this together now. We don’t have to go through it alone, and if anything this makes things a lot easier for us to move forward together"

I squeezed his hand, grateful for his support. "Yeah, together."

a/n : atleast we all know now the real reason matt wasn’t at tarayummys party 🤪🤪 part 19 reallllll sooon!!!!

taglist : @muwapsturniolo @anitahunt @sturnfannn @jayde510 @chrissfavhoe @babyalliah-777 @v33angel @urmom69lol @willowrites @ribread03 @2muchofaslvt @sturnsaver @sleepysturniolo @jcsturniolo11 @jessie-essie @hoeforchrizz @mynbbys @sturniolopanini @mattsturnxoxo @delicatechrry @t77te @sturnsyaper69 @hotdismylife @maggot3647 @ivysturnss @noplaceissafeanymore @mattssgf @yourfavsturniologirl @maethem0nth @sillyponygrl @mattyblover07 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @dominicfikeenthusiast @mattsfavbigtitties @ncm9696 @chrisstvrns @schlutt4matty @chrissolos @ilusa @amelia-sturniolo3 @wonnieeluvvr @pussydestroyer100 @amexiass @mystinkylefttoe26 @lizzysmith110 @sturniololovebot @secret-sturniolo

#snowy speaks #speeding car #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #the sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo

173 notes · View notes

hmusunoo · 2 months ago

Text

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒 - 𝐏.𝐒𝐇

▏pairings. park sunghoon x fem!reader

▏desc. the day i met you i started dreaming, dreaming about the life we’d have to together with the love that we shared, a love like bliss. - meeting Sunghoon during a rain storm.

▏warnings. i wrote this on a whim at 3am from a random thought that popped into my head so don’t judge it too harshly. Short drabble not very long at all.

The day you met SUNGHOON it was raining. The day was dull over taken by gray clouds and a haze that was ever so blinding. It was a day normal people sat inside their house with a book and a warm cup of coffee. It was day you stayed in your pajamas and looked out the windows as droplets of water pelted at the glass.

For you, the sunshine didn’t come from the sun that day. It came from Park Sunghoon. The strange man who was walking his dog in a downpour as nonchalant as a man taking an evening stroll in the spring.

Umbrella over his head he had no sense of urgency, just lazily walking his dog on the leash in front of him. You on the other hand were a mess. Newpaper atop your head your hated been paying attention to where you were going rushing down the sidewalk trying to reach your destination as quickly as possible. You bumped into Sunghoon, falling on your ass and skinning your palms in the process.

You wish you could say it was like a rom com scene. The heroine falls to the floor in a puddle of water and the hero picks her up bridal style carrying her home where they gaze into each other eyes and live happily ever after. You really really wish you could say how it happened but i didn’t.

Instead Sunghoon looked down at your figure on the floor wet from the rain pelting down on you and laughed. He laughed at you. Didn’t offer a hand, didn’t ask if you were ok. None of that. He laughed.

You wanted to huff at him show him some kind of annoyance but instead you were struck by the sight of him. His smile so bright and his laughter so loud it had sprang right through you and shocked your heart. You could help but crack a grin, the corners of your mouth lifting up and a giggle slipping out of your lips before you could subconsciously stop it.

“You’re laughing at me” You giggled looking up at him. He continued to laugh shaking his head at you, his dog sitting there idly looking between the two of you in confusion. The rain still came down hard the two of you getting absolutely soaked.

“You’re laughing to” He said smile still on his face. “You have to admit that it was pretty funny”

You lifted yourself from the ground, dusting off your jeans before looking back at the man whose name you did not know yet. “It was a little funny” You nodded.

“A lot funny” He corrected. Playfully rolling your eyes you muttered “Ok, it was a lot funny”

“are you alright?” He finally asked after the laughter had died down. His dog began to whine besides him probably tired of the rain that was coming down and from sitting stagnant for so long. He looked down at his puppy before raising his head to look at you awaiting your answer.

You gave him a quick nod “I’m just fine, thank you.”

He smiled again. One that was so bright it had lit up your insides the gloomy day long forgotten, hidden behind the light that was park sunghoon.

“I’m Sunghoon” he said raising his hand for a shake. You attached your hand in his a cliche movie like shock running through your veins at the contact. “Y/n” You said. Cheeks heating up red with embarrassment from the moment.

“Gaeul is getting quiet restless so i better go” He trailed off motioning towards the puppy besides him. The rain had finally started to slow not mauling down on the two of them any longer, drizzle the only thing left in its wake.

“Oh ok” You spoke lowly trying to hide your disappointment at the conversation coming to an end. “I’m sorry about bumping into you” You said as an ending argument gearing up to try your hardest to go about your day after this.

In truth you didn’t know how you would. It would be incredibly difficult to forget a face like Sunghoon’s, a laugh like his too. You weren’t sure you wanted to go back to your day to day life after this.

“We were going to the indoor dog park..” Sunghoon said, a small smirk on his face. “If you’re not busy i’m pretty sure Gaeul would love of you’d join us”

You quirked a brow at him a smirk of your own on your face. “Ok, if that’s what gaeul wants then…i have to comply”

“It is.” Sunghoon said quickly “It is what Gaeul wants of course”

You began the walk to the small little doggy park, the sun finally peeking out for the first time all day warming up the day and drying any remnants of the gloomy day but you had your only little reminder of the day. Park Sunghoon.

note - i wrote this small little drabble at 3:30am and it took me like 20 minutes i had this idea randomly like 5 minutes before i started writing it and i just had to do it lol, hope yall enjoyed!

taglist- @belovedhoon , @st1llm0nster , @blossommi

252 notes · View notes

violetsiren90 · 2 months ago

Text

*WIP Wednesday*

Pairing: masochist!Bang Chan x dominatrix!f!Reader (idol au) - ft. all Skz members

Genre: one-shot; professionals to ???; smut/angst/found family

Summary: When your favorite client comes to you with an unusual request, you're unprepared for the world, and the heart, you're drawn into.

Content warnings (for snippet only): 18+ (minors, DNI); it's really just a conversation and some allusions to pro dom services.

Word Count: TBD.

Author's Note: Serious question - how do we feel about this premise? I've got a few thousand words and some notes at this point, but I might fuck around and actually do this.

Your brow furrows and your tongue slips between your lips as you take in what he’s just asked of you.

“…Go with you?” You blink.

He nods, lacing his fingers together and leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“I know you have other clients, so we’d compensate for that, of course, if you did agree to come. Make it worth your while.”

“How long are we talking?” you ask, already despising the notion of your freedom having a price for which it could be sold to the highest bidder.

You are a business woman, but ultimately you take orders from one person and one person alone: yourself. The phonebook of an NDA you’d had to sign to take Chris on as a client was a hefty enough imposition by JPY Entertainment on your professional autonomy. You tolerate it for his sake, as his whole world seemed to be one of bindings and restrictions - the least you can do is to offer him the sort that would grant him some sacred semblance of reprieve. Relief. You like Chris. That is the only reason you are even entertaining the current proposition.

“Honestly probably about a year,” he admits, raising his eyes to look at you with a little grimace.

You scoff softly, leaning back and crossing your arms as you tilt your head and offer him an expression that asks him to be serious. He smirks in return, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth as his warm brown eyes find yours with confidence.

“I can afford it.”

Can he, now? Badly trying to repress a grin, you take in his words with a nod.

“Okay,” you posit, “Assuming you actually can…” you watch him shake his head, grin still plastered on his face, “…what would this look like?”

“Oh, um…” he glances at the ceiling with a little hum and widened eyes in a way that lets you know he’s just a tad nervous, and it makes the barriers you’d begun to construct against the matter at hand shift on their foundations. This fucking kid. “Well, you’d come along with our crew - under the title of physiotherapist, of course. Basically, you could see the world with us, come to our shows - and I could continue to take advantage of your...invaluable services.”

He follows his last remark with a smirk that is incredibly boyish, and certainly not the sort you’d expect from a man who just payed you top dollar to beat two orgasms out of his beautiful body.

You purse your lips as you consider.

“I’m not an escort service, Chris” you say, softly but firmly. “Or a toy to bring along on a trip. And my play rules wouldn’t change.”

He frowns a little, his handsome features schooling themselves with concern.

“No, no, of course not! You know that’s not what I think of you.”

It’s not phrased like a question, but you know he’s asking.

“I know,” you offer softly with a little smile, “Your company though?”

“This would be on your terms, there would be a contract meeting and everything,” he says earnestly.

He’s obviously thought this through. You sigh.

“How long until you need an answer? I have to think on it.”

“We leave for Australia on the 17th, so probably by the first of the month to make the all the arrangements and, y’know, yeah,” he says, standing as you do.

You grab your duffle and pull your lanyard over your neck.

“I’ll let you know in a day or two,” you remark, pulling the strap of your bag onto your shoulder, and he smiles, pushing a hint of a dimple into his left cheek.

It’s a lazy, lopsided smile. The kind he only ever sports after your sessions, and never before. You think of that smile as you close the distance to your car, and wonder if you can bear the thought of its absence from that face for months on end - even if it wasn’t your problem, even if its owner was halfway across the planet.

“No, no…” you mutter with a sigh as you toss your duffle into the trunk and pull it shut. You slide into the front seat, eyes trailing back up to door that just closed behind you.

“Or…” you hiss out another sigh as your forehead gently collides with the steering wheel.

“…fuck.”

#wip wednesday #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #bang chan x y/n #bang chan x female reader #bang chan smut #stray kids fic #stray kids reader insert #stray kids smut #skz fic #skz reader insert

157 notes · View notes

whateverisbeautiful · 2 months ago

Text

♥️Reveling in Richonne - TOWL

#52: The Ring Finger (1.06)

gif cred: @machonnes

We’ve arrived at the TOWL finale. 🥹🥳

And y’all, the way this finale kicks off with that opening scene...🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥. Episode 6 hit the ground running by starting with one of Richonne's greatest moments. I love how in the first episode of TOWL, Rick essentially gave his hand for the marriage. And now in the final episode, Michonne gives her hand in marriage. 🥰

Thanks to this gorgeous wedding ring scene and their parting kiss in the woods, this teaser is top tier. Also, Richonne + candle-lit scenes stayed a blessing to the end 🕯😍...

Sometimes there are scenes that make me want to know exactly who came up with the idea so I can thank them personally. And this right here is one of those scenes. 😋 Whoever’s idea it was to have Rick put the ring on Michonne’s finger while making love surrounded by candles needs a medal lol. 👌🏽🏅

So diving into these finale revelings, I noted that the episode description for The Last Time says “Rick and Michonne have to perform a near impossible miracle” And well, since Richonne is blessed and highly favored of course they pull off a miracle. 😇

The episode begins with Rick saying, “I remember it all. What it was like. Who we were. Who we are now.”

If I’m not mistaken, I don’t think we’d heard Rick say this line before this episode. Like the following sound bites from different characters are all lines previously said throughout the miniseries, but I think this opening line from Rick is new. And it hit me on the rewatch that he’s talking about him and Michonne specifically rather than a broader ‘we’.

Like I interpret this as Rick saying how, after all their years apart, he still remembers everything about the life and the love he and Michonne had before and who they were together. You know that man has an excellent memory. Especially when it comes to Michonne. 😋

And I like that he says ‘who we are now’ because even after all they’ve been through apart, after all the ways they’ve grown and changed, who Rick and Michonne are now is still so compatible and connected. Still soulmates. 😌

Also, the episode after Rick left TWD was called 'Who Are You Now' and I love that years later, this miniseries so beautifully illustrated that who Rick and Michonne are now are still wholly each others.

The first shot as Rick says this is a shot of mountains as the helicopter flies over the terrain. And then I adore that when he says “Who we are now” we get to see Richonne in the now as they lay in this setting that always gives me regal medieval vibes fit for TWD's royal couple. 🤩

gif cred: @nerd4music

Now, I always smile when I think about my first time watching this scene. I knew this episode had an S rating going in but I didn’t know what that would entail since I thought Episode 4 would probably be the last time Richonne had a bedroom scene. And so when they cut to this scene, I remember my eyes immediately focused on what items were left on top of the table because it’s the finale so I thought certainly the stuff on the table was intentionally placed.

But then...my eyes started picking up on some motion going on in the background - and I was gagged. 🫠

I quickly realized that the most important thing going on in this scene is those two lovebirds in the back re-consummating the marriage. 👌🏽

gif cred: @nobleriver

I love everything about this. 🥰 The sensual setting with the abundance of candles. (And I just know it was that true blue romantic Rick that lit all those candles for their special 'wedding night.' 😋)

The rich colors, the lighting, the literal and figurative smokiness coming off this scene, the way the camera slowly glides over the table and inches closer to Richonne fully in their element together. 👩🏽‍🍳💋

gif cred: @nobleriver

After Rick had to watch the memory of Michonne burn away in the premiere, it’s beautiful that in the finale Rick gets to be truly back with Michonne surrounded by the far more romantic and uplifting flames of all those candles. 🕯👌🏽

Whenever I see this scene now, Richonne is all I see. 😋 But the items shown really are intentionally placed and all tell the story of their travels: the noodles, the whiskey, the soda, the map and notes, the CRM uniforms and thread. And the sound bites that play from the characters also tell the story of Richonne’s TOWL journey.

At first, I thought the sound bites were simply recapping the journey, but on rewatch I see they have even more intention in both shaping the story thus far and setting up what's to come in this finale.

First Michonne says, “My name is Michonne. I lost someone. Years ago.” And in the background it’s so sweet seeing all the caressing going on between Rick and Michonne. Once again, it’s a canon fact that he loves being on top of her. And I love the way they’re holding onto each other and the way he’s tenderly touching her face. 🥹

gif cred: @nobleriver

Then Okafor says, “You both possess something I believe the CRM needs to become what it needs to be.” And while Okafor was originally saying that to Rick and Pearl, the line is reiterated here because it’s Richonne who truly possesses something that can change the CRM for good.

(Side note: Y'all, I must admit it's a true challenge for me to try and write and pay attention to what these characters are saying right now when Richonne is back there like that making me distracted. 😋 I keep having to rewind and refocus.🤭

Like I know we all see the way Rick has Michonne's legs hiked up in the air during this part. These talented actors are very good at selling these scenes, that’s all I gotta say lol)

gif cred: @nobleriver

Then it’s a bit of an audible jump scare when Jadis says, “People are a resource.” Didn’t quite want to hear a snake at a blissful moment like this lol.

But I'm pretty sure that corpse's line was used because Rick and Michonne are about to protect the people from the people with their plan to expose the CRM higher-ups.

Then we get a palette cleanser from hearing Jadis when we hear the best bestie Nat say, “I know how to build things and I know how to burn things, but it takes more than that at the end of the world.” And the intentionality behind using that line here is definitely because Richonne will end up employing Nat’s techniques to take down the CRM's leaders and also because the concept of building vs. burning was explored throughout the show and led to the answer that sometimes you have to do both.

As Nat says this, we see Richonne’s backpacks and other things spread out on the ground. The way all their stuff is sprawled out...it seems like the second the mood hit and the candles were lit they threw everything off and got down to business lol.

I like how the most significant items are closest to Richonne’s bed. There’s a bloody sword and ax which feel like they pay homage to some of Richonne’s signature weapons. And I like how the blood on the sword and hatchet just adds to the fact that this stunning love story takes place in an apocalypse of all places, between two apocalyptic all-stars.

Along with the weapons, there’s Rick’s prosthetic, the meaningful iPhone, and the Danger lighter.

And best of all, y’all...there’s the wedding ring. 💍😏

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

As Beale’s voice says, “You tried to escape four times. Why are you here?” Rick slowly grabs the wedding ring, serving as a visual answer to why he’s here - He’s here because of Mrs. Grimes.

And y’all, when I tell you I nearly passed out just seeing that he was slowly grabbing the wedding ring. 🤭 I did not know that this epic love story was going to get this good. #BoundlesslyBlessed.

Along with the visual answer, there's then a verbal answer to why Rick and Michonne are here when Thorne says, “There’s someone you love out there.” I love hearing that play over this visual of Richonne, because truly Rick and Michonne are the one for each other and their love has fueled them to keep going.

As this is said, Rick proceeds to do the most romantic thing ever when he slowly slides the wedding ring onto Michonne’s ring finger. Just 🫠…our ship is goated for a reason. It just don’t get any better. 👏🏽

gif cred: @msanonships

I love the way Michonne is looking up at him with her hand on his chest and then when she realizes what Rick’s up to she holds up her hand and watches as he puts the ring on her finger all slow and sexy. And Rick is locked in during this moment, honey. 🔥

I adore how honored Rick is to be able to put this ring on Michonne and to be her forever husband and to have her as his wife. She’s Mrs. Grimes...

And I just love that he wanted her to wear the wedding ring for this intimate moment that gives such wedding night vibes. Like there’s something so sacred and majestic about this scene, especially with the lux colors, lush blanket and pillows, and the candlelight glow. 😍

Not only does Rick feel that Michonne deserves the world - he makes it his personal job to give it to her. And he does a damn good job, doesn't he? 👏🏽👏🏽😊

gif cred: @lousolversons

Rick is also very good at making things a moment and this crowning moment very clearly had an affect on Michonne. Because as Rick so tenderly slides his hand down Michonne’s arm and then looks in her eyes, Michonne looks up at her husband like she thinks he is truly the sexiest man on planet earth.

And you know what we always say…Michonne is always right. 😇

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

I love that Michonne’s journey took her from one; looking quite taken by Rick in their pre-canon seasons of TWD.

To two; lying down alone fiddling with Rick's ring on her finger in her final TWD episode. (Which I've always loved that after Rick's season 9 departure, Michonne wore that ring because she knew that who she and Rick were to each other was 100% husband and wife).

To three; now lying down with Rick over her so lovingly placing her wedding ring on her finger. 🙌🏽🥳

Rick always wants Michonne to know, in every way that he can express, how much he loves her. 🥹 And the abundant love Michonne continuously has for Rick is always written so clearly on her face. 🥹

Also, with Rick not having a ring finger himself it feels like placing this wedding ring on Michonne during a moment where they’re this one and interconnected is almost like placing the ring on them.

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

As they have this eye contact moment that is just chemistry on another level, it’s paired with Michonne’s heartrending line from the masterpiece Episode 4 when she asks Rick, “Do you still love me?” And Rick passionately answers, “Always.”

Those are fitting lines to include because this TOWL journey had Richonne having to navigate what their love looks like now and officially see that they truly have always loved each other and always will.

And now here they are in this beautifully intimate moment, one in every way, letting their undying love just fill the entire atmosphere. 🥰

gif cred: @coolpartytimefan

And truly, Rick looks at Michonne like she’s the most beautiful treasure in the world. At this moment, he's looking at her like he’s again thinking “I love you always.” And in all ways. Amen. 👌🏽

I adore how, after he puts the ring on, both Rick and Michonne look like they've somehow managed to fall even deeper in love by the second.

Michonne softly places her ring-clad hand back on Rick's chest and then he leans in as they share another very passionate kiss. And y’all, the only beef I have with this teaser is with that fade-to-black. It comes in too quick lol. 🤭The fade-to-black could’ve waited just a second or two more, because you know some of us be greedy. 😂

But regardless, it’s a great hot-and-heavy kiss and just shows yet again that Rick and Michonne are each other's strongest craving. This whole Richonne ring moment was perfect. 🤩

TOWL really said 'I now pronounce Richonne the hottest husband and wife on television.' 🔥👏🏽

gif cred: @msanonships

Ages ago, I was really eager for Richonne to have rings of their own, and little did I know I’d just have to wait about eight years and then Rick would put a ring on Michonne in a stunning lovemaking scene like this. And once again, it was entirely worth the years-long wait. 😇

I appreciate the way this opening scene just immediately set the tone of how TOWL started as an epic love story and would conclude as an epic love story. What a dream. 👏🏽

And because we’re spoiled, y’all, the teaser doesn’t even end there.

They then cut to the woods with Rick and Michonne looking like the baddest to ever do it in their black CRM uniforms as they walk forward with the helicopter in the back. Move over Mr. and Mrs. Smith, this is Mr. and Mrs. Grimes on a mission. 🔥

gif cred: @nerd4music

And then as Rick and Michonne walk, they stop and turn to each other and immediately kiss like their life depends on it and I’m always here for it. Like I’ll forever be elated over the fact that there were kisses in every single episode of this 6 episode miniseries, and not just that but most episodes had multiple kissing scenes too. Richonne kissed more in 6 episodes than they did in their four seasons on canon on TWD.

gif cred: @ricksmarlene

And truly, not even just from a shipper perspective but from a story perspective, it makes perfect sense for these characters who are madly in love and haven’t been able to express it for over eight years to be kissing all the time like this. Cuz I mean...

And now that they’re back together, of course these soulmates are going to make up for that lost time every chance they get. It's just realistic. 😌👌🏽

So I love that our goated captains came back to make this 6-episode miniseries and said guess how many episodes we can fit kisses into...

All 6, baby. 😋 This particular kiss in the woods is meaningful too because Rick and Michonne are about to part for the first time since agreeing to go home together and you know for magnets going their separate ways isn’t easy or ideal, especially when what they’re parting to do is dangerous.

But I love that because their kisses are communication, this kiss was the two making it so clear to each other that no matter what the CRM tries to do, they are each other's ultimate choice and they’re in it together.

Like I love the reassuring vibe of this passionate kiss and the way Rick holds her face and then the way they stare into each other's eyes afterward and nod, again communicating so much. 🥰 They’re about to reenter the lion's den and this moment just felt like them giving each other the strength to do so.

gif cred: @nerd4music

And y’all, you know I stay getting distracted by Richonne so I forgot Michonne's voiceover is actually saying something in this scene lol. Lemme go happily rewind a sec. ⏮😋

Okay, so while they share this golden kiss, Michonne gives insight into their plan when she says, “It sounds simple, right? We go in. You get the briefing. I get the dossier she left behind. We bring what we know to the city, then go home. Together.”

As this is said, Michonne holds Rick’s arm until the last second as he turns to go which is sweet. They are really each other's baby, y'all. 🥲And as she watches him, we hear her say, “It’s never that simple.”

gif cred: @msanonships

I know that this last line is meant to be ominous but one thing I'm grateful for about how TWD & TOWL approached Richonne is that it's not like other relationships and things in the show that have to ultimately end in tragedy. Richonne was built to last and be an actual lasting win for Rick and Michonne in this series, which is why I never feared that the two would split up or die because the love they found with each other is the one thing this franchise allows to be unbreakable and triumphant.

So next, Rick slowly walks up to the gates with his hands up as his voiceover says, “I’m Sergeant Major Rick Grimes. You probably think I’m dead.” I like that line because as we know TOWL was a whole journey of Rick dying and coming back to life through Michonne. So now, for the first time in a long time, it’s Alive Rick rolling up to the CRM. 👌🏽

gif cred: @sowhumpful

Then as the CRM soldiers slowly open the gate for him, the teaser ends with Rick recalling his father's words saying, “He said I didn’t need to be scared. That it was just ‘the burning.’” Then the scene fades to black just like how this teaser started and y’all, I just gotta clap it up for that teaser. That ring moment alone had me overjoyed and then the kiss in the matching uniforms and Rick's fine gait up to the gate was the cherry on top. 👏🏽👏🏽

We were already feasting and the finale was just beginning. I appreciate that since this is ‘the last time,’ this show let Richonne do what they do best one last time and just put their love and chemistry on full display. 👌🏽😌

#richonne #towl #reveling in richonne #1.06 #RIR (52)#the ones who live #twd towl #michonne grimes #rick grimes #rick x michonne #twol #michonne #rick and michonne #twd: the ones who live #twd #richonnefandom

169 notes · View notes

lunajay33 · 3 months ago

Text

Desperate🍂

Summary: Embry was your best friend since birth never a day without him and when he magically disappeared from your life it shattered your world, desperate to just see him one more time

Pairing: Embry Call x f!reader

•Masterlist•

Being born in forks with your twin sister Bella, it was a crazy start, mom hated it here and took Bella with her leaving me with my dad, the chief of police Charlie Swan, we had a simple life and I loved it we’d have supper together most nights talking about our days, he treated me good he never went a day without making me feel loved, when mom left taking only Bella, I remember her saying I was too much to handle that Bella was quiet and would be easy, after that I feel incredibly bad about myself but Embry was there, even as kids he was always there for me and I was there for him

Today we planned to go to La Push beach and have the whole day together so I got in my shared truck with Bella since she moved back now, and drove down to the beach

Parking in my usual spot and walking down to the beach, taking off my shoes I let the sand cover my feet as I sat in the spot Embry and I always hung out in, close to the water so the breeze from the ocean could relax us, he always said it was his favorite thing to do, just sit with me enjoy the moments we shared

An hour had passed and still no embry so I decided to go to the little shack on the beach and get an ice cream, after getting my favorite flavour I went back to the spot seeing Embry finally here, quick to sit next to him

“Hey Em what took you so long?” I asked as he wrapped his arm around my waist

“Sorry sweets slept through my alarm but we still have the rest of the day right?!” He said smiling down at me, over the last couple of months he’s shot up in height and has become way leaner and muscular

“Of course!” We spent the next few hours walking along the shore with our shoes off, walking through the trees near the beach, getting more ice cream since he was complaining how hot he was even though it was a typical cool cloudy day in La push

Soon he was turning more red and getting light headed then angry, which I’ve never seen before

“I have to go, I’m sorry” he said running to his truck and driving off leaving me confused, finishing the day early I drove back home where it had become gloomy, Bella was always screaming at night and dad and I would barely get sleep anymore, some nights I was allowed to stay over at Embrys to help

I hung up my coat and made my way to the phone dialing Embrys home phone, it rang and rang and rang, sighing I left a message hoping he’d listen and call me back letting me know if he was okay

I slumped down at the dinner table picking at the fries feeling like something was wrong

“You okay kiddo?” Dad asked from across the table

“Yeah it’s just, something happened with Em today, he might be sick I’m just worried”

“I’m sure he’s fine! He’ll probably call you in the morning”

“Yeah I guess”

It’s been a month with no word from Embry, I called all the time only getting word from his mom saying he’s severely sick but I couldn’t believe it, and now I know how Bella feels well felt, she’s been hanging with Jacob and seems to be getting better now I’m the gloom of the house

“Kid you can’t stay in the house all the time outside of school, go for a walk at the beach or something I know you love that” his words made tears bead along my waterline

“Dad you don’t understand, I need him it feels like somethings broken in me, he’s never done this to me before I mean did I do something wrong?” I cried into my hands

“Honey you couldn’t do anything wrong you’re my like sweetheart, maybe he’s just going through something, maybe go for a little hike get some fresh air”

“Fine” I pulled on my shoes and left out the back door walking the trail all the way till I got to the jumping cliff, Embry had taken me here many times because it gave a great view of the ocean, he once even set up a picnic for my birthday

I love embry I always have but I could never admit that to him and risk the friendship we have

After about an hour I was ready to leave when I heard a growl from behind me, turning slowly full of fear with the recent hiker attacks, glowing yellow eyes in the trees as it had gotten dark, but when I heard a whine my fear disappeared

“Hello?” I asked stepping closer

Another whine was heard before a huge wolf emerged from the trees and my breathe was taken from me, it came nearer pressing its snout against my palm as I started running my hair through its beautiful fur

“You remind me of someone, you’re so gentle, I had a friend he was my best friend, I loved him but he’s gone now, I don’t even know if I’ll ever see him again if he ever wants to even see me again, I guess I just miss him” I don’t know why but spilling my heart out to this gentle giant made that weight of my chest lighter, the wolf licked my face before walking back into the woods

Another rustle was heard in the trees and a few seconds later the last person I expected to see came walking towards me, Embry but he was even stronger and taller and his hair was cut and a tattoo

“Em? Where did you come from?”

“It’s me well I mean…..that the wolf……it’s me”

“What but how you can’t be……” but then all the stories of the tribe I heard over the years came flooding back, descended from wolves

“By that look I think you already know, I never wanted to leave you god it killed me to be apart from you but that day……that day I got sick I was changing, there’s more of us, Sam Jared Paul, but it’s a secret you already know that, but when we change anger runs out entire life it wasn’t safe to be around you, I couldn’t live with myself if I hurt you, but then I caught your scent out here and I couldn’t take it anymore I had to see you”

“But if it’s a secret why are you telling me everything?”

“This is crazy but, people in our pack we have soulmates, picked when we are born the person who’s our other half, each wolf has an imprint and when you see them it’s like your whole world changes everything is about her, she’s your life the one that keeps you going”

My heart dropped the way he was explaining everything sounded like he already found her

“Have you….have you already got an imprint, you’ve found your soulmate” I said my voice shaking as my lip quivered

“I have and I knew, I’ve always known it’s only ever been you, I love you, forever”

“Forever Em”

155 notes · View notes

b1rds3ye · 1 year ago

Text

Radio Silence

The mission required you to separate from the rest of Task Force 141 but when the operation is compromised, all he can do is listen to the panic through the comms until everything goes silent.

Pairings: Captain John Price x GN!Reader, Simon “Ghost” Riley x GN!Reader Reader Aliases: Breeze (Callsign), Bravo 1-5 (Squad-Member Code) Genre: Angst (open-ended), Drama Warning: Descriptions of violence/crashes, blasphemy/religious references, (probably) inaccurate military terms Word Count: 3k (~1.5k each)

Captain John Price

The captain was not a superstitious man, but when you’re on the battlefield, you take all the good fortune you can get. With age he’s picked up a range of small habits and lucky paraphernalia to get him through the mission; an aged penny in his left breast pocket, a four leaf clover stored in another, he finds himself reciting the lord’s prayer even though he’s not particularly religious (and if there is a god he’d like to personally go up and sock them across the face).

When you noticed his little rituals, you added on a good luck charm of your own - his favourite by far. A quick peck on the cheek followed by a teasing little “good luck, captain” in his ear. Price swears there’s something divine in your affection, it does wonders for his morale and efficiency. He thought nothing of it the first few times, but when he realised that this little gift of yours was here to stay, he started to reciprocate in kind when the others weren’t looking. His soul has become tainted over the years - if anything a kiss from him should be a bad omen - but your beaming smile in response convinces him that maybe he’s given you some luck your way.

And perhaps that’s why, after your ritual good luck kiss, he feels a little more than bothered when Laswell calls you away before he can reciprocate. You notice the slight furrow of his eyebrows and laugh, telling him not to worry and that you’ll see him on the other side. The hold you had on his arm disappears as you pull away, bidding him and the rest of the Task Force good luck as you join your own squadron. Price then returns to commandeering his own men, but the thought lingers in the back of his mind. Perhaps you need that extra little bit of luck today.

Price hates how good his intuition can be.

“Bravo 0-6, do you copy?”

With his squadron grounded and on the perimeter of the site, he stiffens at the tone of your voice. That’s not how you usually sound like over comms, that hint of uncertainty didn’t suit you.

“Loud and clear, in position of Site A.”

“Copy, we’re at the compound but… we’ve got company.”

“Al-Qatala?”

“No, looks like Al-Qatala is buddy-buddy with some mercs and- shit.”

“Breeze, what are you seeing?”

“How’d they get us surrounded…?” You mutter more to yourself than to Price but his blood runs cold regardless.

“Bravo 1-5 you are to fall back and wait for backup-”

He’s cut off by various layers of static but he’s learnt to decipher them. The deeper base of the rustle of fabric as you manoeuvre, the sharp trill of gunshots all overlaying the white noise of distant shouting.

“Price, our exits are blocked, they knew we’d be here, how’d they- Corporal! Fuck, stay with me! We’re dropping like flies here. Bravo-1, we’ve got no choice, we have to push through, full offensive!”

He hears the screams of nearby soldiers. While he’s grateful none of them are yours, he knows that the ride back to base will be a rough one regardless. He feels the eyes of his subordinates burn holes into him and the walkie talkie. Gaz, who was beside him, was the only one moving, animatedly talking to Laswell and filling her in on the situation.

“Bravo 1-5-”

There’s an audible sigh on your end that shuts him up.

Through the time it has taken for Price to become captain, he’s learned a lot the hard way. One of the most important things he’s learned is that earning Lady Luck’s favour is more crucial than any skill for the battlefield. Some of the best he’s ever seen has fallen because they pissed her off somehow, but he still never expected her to shun you.

“Just my luck…” your voice starts off quiet as you curse to yourself. A gulp breaks up your panting as you stabilise your breathing. Your next words are far too calm.

“I’m sorry, Price.”

“Sergeant.” Price’s voice was low, cautious. A warning. He knows how you fight, he knows you don’t do anything extreme unless the situation he calls for it, and once again he’s praying to the unknown that it hasn’t come to that.

“I said next time we hit the pub with the 141 that the first round will be on me but I don’t think I can make that.”

“Don’t talk to me like that, Breeze.”

“The merc company goes by Order of Ashes.”

Your words are becoming harder to hear as the explosions seem to be getting closer and closer. Gaz is becoming louder, literally screaming into his comms as he near begs for an evac for your squadron. The rest of his team is becoming restless. Price’s grip tightens impossibly tight on the walkie talkie, any tighter and he could probably crush the metal.

“Rain hell on them for me, yeah?”

Price starts calling for your name, only to be interrupted by a deafening static that has him reeling from his own technology. Inexperienced privates that surrounded him flinched at the sound while Gaz fell silent. Soon Price’s walkie talkie falls silent too.

He brings his hand up to activate communications again, a tentative check in.

“Bravo 1-5, do you copy?”

He waits for a moment.

“Fuck. Breeze? Do you copy?”

The next time he calls out to you is the first time he’s hesitant, to the untrained ear he sounded as strong as ever but to him he recognises how his own voice wavers. A gentle call of your actual name, the last resort.

Silence.

Price gives you a few more seconds to answer, each moment more damning than the last. Gaz sends a concerned look his way but words fail him. He’s a good sergeant but his inexperience is showing. He hasn’t fully mastered the poker face, not like Price has.

Eventually he lets out a heavy exhale through his nose, counting each racing heartbeat it takes until it has marginally slowed.

Gaz instinctively straightened up, he didn’t need to see Price’s face to know his captain was transforming before his very eyes. Price adjusts his hat, looking at the rest of his team under the brim.

“Alright, we’ve got double the work and half the manpower. No time to lose, I want this site cleared within the hour, and then we're finding our other half."

With affirmatives all round, the soldiers get to work and so does Price. To the untrained eye, he’s calm, eerily so. As captain, Price can’t afford to lose his cool, it’ll bleed over and smother his team, blanket them in a tense atmosphere of panic and uncertainty. So he stays resolute, acting as the team’s anchor as he guides them towards the objective with precision.

The only emotion that breaks his facade is anger. Pure, unbridled rage that casts a frightening glaze over his eyes. His allies can see it as Price stomps towards the entrance of the site. Al-Qatala most certainly feel it as their lackeys are pummeled to the ground, bones cracking against stone and tiles. They’re not gifted the mercy of a quick bullet, but the pain of slowly bleeding out with broken bones, bruised bodies and limbs jutting out in all the ways they should not. Every bruising punch, every bullet delivered does little to quell the raging storm within him. It brings him closer to the mission objective but it doesn’t bring him closer to you, and that’s the only thing that matters right now. There’s no hostages, no chance of salvation for his enemies. Any form of good will in Price was taken away when you were taken away from him. He hopes whatever god that sees the carnage he’s inflicted knows that it is only a taste of what to come if he ever meets that poor sod.

When his side of the operation is done and the squadron is now leaving the site, Price returns to his comms. He needs to address the other half of the mission, you. Suddenly his tongue feels thick in his mouth as his throat tightens. His collar is suffocating.

“Bravo 0-6 to Watcher-1 do you copy?”

Laswell’s voice rings out.

“Affirmative. We’ve already dispatched birds to Bravo-1’s location, we’ll do what we can and sort out that compound.”

“Do me one more thing. Find me everything you can on the ‘Order of Ashes’. I want names, locations, families, the whole fucking mile.”

“Can do. … Is this for Breeze?”

“Breeze wanted me to rain hell on them…”

Price’s voice is low as he puts a cigar in his mouth. He lights it up, even when the cigar smokes he keeps the lighter on. His eyes narrow at the flickering flame, fixated on it for a moment longer. He’s never been a particularly superstitious man, but he’s asking for Lady Luck to be on his side once again. For the slim chance that you’re somewhere out there, breathing. He’s never been worthy of her favour, but you damn well are so surely she’ll put that into account. She’ll consider that you still have a lot to do, you still have a good luck kiss that Price needs to return. He puts his lighter away.

“... and I intend to deliver.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Ghost preferred his quieter missions. Others feel safer when in a team but more people mean more variables, and more variables mean more fuck ups, and heavens know he’s had enough of those. For Ghost, the less, the better. And yet, when it came to 141, and in particular to you, he’d pick company over going solo in a heartbeat.

Reconnaissance missions were a personal favourite, they were quiet, less violent if done right and often required only a few people. Of course his first person of choice is you, even if you’d always call these missions an “impromptu date” and then chastise him for not planning something more extravagant just to rile him up.

Even now, when you two were starting on opposite sides of the target site a good few kilometres apart, you were connected through communications. He’d listen as you ramble about anything and everything on your mind when the mission gets quiet. It was endearing, it was soothing. Ghost never thought he’d find someone like you with the power to give him a respite even when on duty - or if he ever deserved such a thing. And yet here he was, sitting against a wall, waiting for further instructions from Laswell as you started the purely hypothetical debate on who in the 141 would best survive the zombie apocalypse.

“Honestly, with a mask like yours you could probably blend in with the horde. 10 out of 10 you’d last your entire life like that.”

“Surrounded by brain dead morons? Already have that.”

He heard your laugh that you tried to mask as an exaggerated scoff.

“How long do you think I’d last?”

“One hour at most.”

“Oh come on Ghost, have a bit more faith in me.”

“All Bravo to Watcher-1, we’re awaiting further action, copy.”

As Laswell replies, Simon can already imagine your offended expression as he changes the topic.

“Bravo-1 this is Watcher-1, you are all clear to close in on the perimeter. Do not engage, just tell us what you see.”

“Watcher-1 this is Bravo 1-5, I’m already seeing hostiles.”

Ghost stills, his hand reaching back up to the comms. You’ve always managed to keep it cool but he heard how your sentence ended with a slight waver. It was too early for speculation, but the alarm bells were already going off in his head. The enemy should be clustered within the site, nowhere near where you currently are.

“I’m counting a dozen men, a couple of trucks and- that’s looking like some impressive cargo.”

There’s some extra static as Ghost finds his pace increasing. He won’t be able to reach you soon, but it doesn’t stop his legs from moving towards the site.

“They’re moving quickly, they’ve got an agenda.”

“Stay frosty, Breeze.”

“Got it, Simon.”

Your voice is more of a whisper now, almost blending in with the static. Was the enemy that close to you already? Usually, he loved when you used his actual name. Everyone calls him ‘Ghost’ even off-duty, but you were proper enough to at least always call him by his callsign in battle. You were getting spooked and he was too far away to even try and comfort you.

It was a strain to unclench his balled fists. He wasn’t going to have a mission go wrong, at least not one that involved you. He’d be damned if something took you out before him, because he refused to return to a life where you weren’t yapping his ear off.

“Breeze, head back to exfil.”

“Fuck, they’re heading this way.”

If you found a good place to hide, Ghost could reach you before any enemy did. He had to.

“I’m heading towards your position. E.T.A 20 minutes.”

“Ghost, my spot is now crawling with hostiles. I know you’re a one man army but I think you’re pushing it this time.”

Your laugh was different this time. It wasn’t as hearty as the one he heard before, it was a weak wheeze. Half-hearted, the sound of a bitter and quiet defeat. He could hear your rugged breathing against the end of the mic. If he was actually with you, he’d stand beside you in moments like this, letting you put your body weight on him discreetly as he anchored you to the world. His gloved hand instinctively curls as he imagines himself holding onto your arm.

“Breeze, stay with me. Focus on the objective.”

“You owe me a proper date after this, Ghost.”

“Then make sure you get back in one piece-”

The comms are disrupted with a voice that Ghost can’t recognise, with you returning an indistinguishable shout and a curse. He can’t help calling your name into the comms, only to hear the static of indescribable commotion, bodies shuffling and the harrowing crack of broken bones and limbs. It escalates into a deafening crescendo spanning only a few seconds before the grand finale of a thump of a fallen body. The transmission ends with a damning click. He stops in his tracks before he returns to the comms.

“Breeze? How copy?”

The line has gone dead. Ghost slams his fist into the nearest wall, but it does little to quell the pain from within.

“Bravo this is Watcher-1, what’s your status?”

Ghost pauses at Laswell’s request, he wants you to be the one who replies on his behalf, you usually do. Never did a moment feel so heavy, outweighing his military gear and weapons, almost bringing the hulking man to his knees. His hand reluctantly comes up to activate his walkie talkie. He takes his sweet time, giving you the chance to interrupt. When he finally speaks, his voice is slow as he draws out every syllable, every pause a desperate invitation for you to speak up.

“Bravo 1-5 is M.I.A.”

Laswell is silent on the other side. Ghost lets his head tilt back until it rests on the wall beside him, the guilt made his skull too heavy. With that sentence alone he felt like your executioner, as if he just brought the possibility of you being gone into reality. The only thing he can hear now is the slight rustle of grass against the wind, a backdrop to the rhythmic bass of his pounding heartbeat. This was a typical ambience for solo missions, and Ghost was used to being alone.

But lonely? He had forgotten how it felt ever since you barged into his life. And now that the feeling has returned, he forgot just how utter shit it feels.

“We’re sending immediate backup to their position. We’ll meet you there.”

But by the time he and the squadron make it to your position, there are only the remnants of a battle left in your wake. A few unrecognised bodies are slumped against the walls, furniture is overturned, and dried blood paints the floor as a macabre dye. Most - if not all - of this must have been your handiwork, and if it was any other circumstance Ghost would feel proud, but you’re not beside him for him to praise you. That being said, there is no sign of you, and that leaves him optimistic, but the other soldiers seemed to think differently.

“You know, they say Al-Qatala never takes prisoners,” one jittery private said to another.

“What’re you trying to say? I've seen the Sergeant. Breeze is tough.”

“I’m just saying, even if we can’t find their body they’re probably d-”

“That’s enough,” Ghost snaps his head to them, eyes alight with a rage usually reserved only for his worst enemies. His voice is near unrecognisable, more akin to a growl than any human sound. He will not tolerate anyone speaking ill of you or doubting your capabilities as a soldier. He tells himself he does it for your honour, nothing more, nothing less. He disregards the selfish need for you to return to him as it wittles him down to the bone and contorts his face to a scowl concealed under his mask.

The soldiers hurriedly salute before exiting the room, leaving the lieutenant alone, shoulders and chest heaving before he moves to continue the search.

The team returns empty handed, but that means nothing to Ghost. Even as he’s issued new missions he does not falter. He fights with the same brutality, killing his enemy before they can kill him because he needs to return home. Return home so he can organise a covert mission of his own - retrieving you. No matter the rank or squadron that separates you, no matter if you’re shipped out to the other side of this godforsaken earth, you two are a team. Combat has hardened Ghost into a brutally honest man, many would call him a pessimist, but a stubborn voice in the back of his mind refuses to believe that you’re gone. You’ve always been a tough nut to crack, if you weren’t you wouldn’t be dating him. He’s seen you stare death in the eyes only for you to stand back up beside him. And so he faces forward and doesn’t look back. Because until he has to rip off the freezing metal of a dog tag from your neck, he swears on his stone cold heart that you’re still out there. Maybe a little tattered, perhaps even broken, but living.

Call of Duty Masterlist

#cod x reader #task force 141 x reader #call of duty x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #captain price x reader #john price x reader #price x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #captain john price #simon ghost riley #cod 141 #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare #/*avery actually writes*/

2K notes · View notes

conchcronch · 1 month ago

Text

Kinktober 2024: Day 1

WC: 3524

Warnings: NSFW (probably goes without saying), breeding kink, sword play, unprotected sex, use of ‘slut’

Summary: You made the mistake of forgetting you had plans with Zoro when he finds you at port with Sanji. Instead of allowing his anger to fester, he puts his energy into training you in a bit of a different way than you anticipated.

A/N: Happy Kinktober everyone!!!!!! If I’m being honest, I don’t love this chapter. But I swear there are some real bangers scheduled so stay tuned!

“Wanna tell me what’s got your haramaki in a twist?” You finally asked, rubbing at your freshly released upper arm that he had had in a vice grip as he dragged you back to the ship. He hadn’t said a word after having found you at the market with Sanji. It had occurred to you just before seeing him stomping towards you, that you had made plans to train with him that afternoon before going ashore with the cook to pick up some fresh ingredients for dinner that night.

He walked away from where you were standing by the hatch to the crows’ nest. The hatch that he had latched after closing it, which was either a really good sign or a really bad one. The longer the heavy silence lasted between you, you began to think it was a very bad sign. “I forgot we had plans.” You attempted, tone softer than your previous sentence had been. You knew he heard you, even though he made no indication that he had. He stood at the window, you could see his hands clench and unclench at his sides, his palm coming to rest on the hilt of Wado, his nails digging in slightly to the fabric wrapped around its hilt.

“First, you go out the whole day with that shitty cook.” His back was still to you as he spoke, his words practically dripping in venom. It was clear he had woken up in a bad mood when you talked to him before you left, but it was obvious that your lapse in memory had only intensified it. “But then I saw you with him, laughing. He touched you.” You couldn’t stop your snort, he spoke as though he had caught Sanji groping you, rather than giving you reassurance that the upcoming long stint at sea wouldn’t be nearly as bad as you were expecting b

“He touched my knee, Zoro.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “It’s not like he grabbed my ass.”

“He could have, not like you would’ve told me.”

“Are you serious, since when have you ever been jealous of Sanji?”

“Since you ditched me to be with him!” He turned to you and you immediately saw his rage filled eyes. And in that moment, you felt like you knew what it felt like to be opposite him in a fight, his eyes turning near black as his brow seemed to sit heavier over his eyes.

“Zoro,” You tried, stepping forward towards him, immediately halting when you came face to face with the freshly sharpened tip of Wado Ichimonji, a mere inch from the tip of your nose. A smirk crept over his face when he sees you stagger, clearly caught entirely off guard by his action.

“Down.” His sword followed you as slowly knelt down, folding your legs underneath you, the wood flooring instantly uncomfortable against your boney knees. “I’m going to remind you who owns you.” You nodded, chewing at the inside of your cheek in anticipation. “Are you going to be a good girl?” You nodded again, giving him your best doe eyes, watching as he slid Wado back into the sheath before stepping towards you, untying his red sash before starting on the clasps of his jacket.

By the time he was within reach of you his jacket was open and you could see his tented pants. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?” You purse your lips, thinking on how you can best word this.

“I didn’t really think before agreeing to his invite.” He grunted in acknowledgment,

“What about your outfit then, dress up for him?” His head cocked slightly to the side.

”Wha- no, it’s just shorts and a tank top. It’s hot out, and I knew we’d be in the sun.”

“They barely cover your ass, seems like you wanted him to touch a lot more than just your knee.”

“You’ve never complained about them before.” You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

He grabbed a fist full of your hair, pulling your head back. “Seems someone’s got a mouth on her today.” He tugged again and you were at his complete mercy, a small whimper coming from your parted lips. “I think I got a better use for that mouth of yours.” While holding your hair in one hand, he used his free hand to pull his pants open, shoving them down enough that his half hard cock was freed. “Get to work.” He pulled you into his crotch by your hair, groaning as you swallowed half his cock in one go. At the first touch of your hands he tugged at your hair again, “Mouth only.” You let them fall to your knees, using them as best as you could to steady yourself as he held you against him.

You worked his cock until it was fully hard, gagging around his head every time he would force it down your throat. “God your mouth was made for my cock.” His voice was gravelly and you could already feel yourself getting wet, moaning around him so he could feel your throat vibrate. You hallowed out your cheeks, making obscene slurping sounds around his cock, moaning and making sure to look up at him, all things you knew drove him crazy. Between the way his hips thrusted into your mouth, his rhythm stuttering slightly and his grip on your hair tightening, you could tell he was getting close. But as you swallowed around his head which had been just at the curve of your throat he pulled you so far back you stumbled onto your side, his grip on your hair gone.

His chest was rising and falling quickly, his cock shiny with your saliva as it stood proudly out from his mess of green curls. He wanted to praise you, tell you how good of a girl you were, how you were his good girl. But you didn’t deserve it, not yet.

You wanted to question him, ask him why he had stopped you, but you had been together long enough to know he often used you for his own pleasure, forcing you to wait in anticipation for him to return the favor. So there must be a good reason that he staved off his own orgasm, and you were dripping at the prospect of what he had in store for you.

“On the bench press.” He nodded towards it, laughing to himself as he watched you scramble to get to your feet, stumbling slightly before sitting on the lightly cushioned bench. The way he looked at you was how you could only assume a tiger looks at their prey as they wait for the perfect moment to strike. And the longer his gaze moved up and down your form the stronger the urge was to clench your thighs in a feeble attempt at pleasure. “Strip.” It’s as though you couldn’t get the fabric off your skin fast enough and only when you slipped your thumbs under the edge of your panties did he speak up again “leave ‘em on.” He stepped towards you, nudging your knees further apart with his leg before standing between them. He encircled your neck in his hand, not holding it tight enough to restrict airflow, but just tight enough that he could feel your pulse quicken against his thumb. He was standing close enough that his cock was pressed against your chest, rubbing against your soft skin as he cupped your cheek with his other hand.

You wanted to stroke his cock, rub his pre cum down his shaft and listen to the groans he tries to hold back. But when you reached out to touch his covered thigh you noticed how he smirked “you just can’t wait, can you?” You shook your head, the throb between your legs dictating your every action. The hand that had been around your neck let go, moving to your sternum and pushing you back against the bench, stepping back from between your knees to take you in before unsheathing Wado again.

The feeling of the cold metal against your thigh sent tingles through your body. He slid the top edge of the blade underneath the thin lace of your panties before sharply pulling the blade up. The flimsy fabric didn’t stand a chance, being sliced with about as much resistance as a freshly plucked leaf. “Zoro what the fu-“ he repeated the action again on your other side, this time quicker. “I liked those!” You tried to protest, propping yourself up on your elbows to meet his gaze.

“You’re such a whiny brat sometimes.” He stepped between your knees again, sword still unsheathed in his hand. “Open.”

“What?” He raised his eyebrow at your question, before repeating himself.

“Open, don’t ask again.” You opened your mouth a little bit, which was immediately forced wider by the hilt of Wado being shoved between your teeth. “If you drop it, you’ll regret it.” The sword was heavier than you expected, yet one more thing to add to the ever expanding list of impressive things Zoro can do. You looked up at him, and you could tell he was immensely turned on by seeing his sword in your mouth.

He finally tore his gaze away from you and sank to his knees, forcing them open even wider to accommodate his broad shoulders. You could feel his hot breath on your cunt only for a second before it was gone, then the feeling of his lips on your inner thigh forced a moan forward from the back of your throat.

He pressed open mouth kisses closer and closer to where you desperately wanted his tongue. You wanted to ask him, beg for him to stop teasing you but if you so much as loosened your grip on the hilt of his sword it would clammer to the ground. So all you could do was whine and grab blindly in the direction on his head. “Someone seems desperate” He chuckled as he dodged your grasp, bringing his hands up to grip the fat of your hips. “What do you want so bad, hm?” You sat up for a second to look at him, tightening your grip on the hilt as you did so. You could feel drool slip down your chin as your brows knit together in an attempt to wordlessly plea. “Fuck you look so good drooling around my sword” He moved one hand from you hip and gently ghosted it over your clit, slowly rubbing circles around the bud as your head falls back with a muffled groan.

His other hand pulls your legs over his shoulders before moving to slowly sink his middle finger into your soaked hole. Your legs tighten around him, drawing him closer to your core before he has a chance to resist.

You moan triumphantly as he mouths at your clit, using his free hand to slide up your body until he can pinch one of your pebbled nipples. He slips his index finger inside you, stretching your walls apart as he thrusts them in and out of you, the sound of wet slapping already filling the room. The issue arises when he adds his ring finger into your hole. The stretch was nothing to you by now, your body well acquainted with his size. But it was how he wrapped his lips around your clit, his front teeth playfully grazed over the sensitive bud that was the problem. As a startled moan burst from your mouth, so too did Wado. You heard the sound of metal against the wooden floor before you realized the hilt was no longer held between your teeth. Half a second later, any contact you had with the swordsman was gone, “No!” you pleaded, sitting up as you felt everything that had been building between your legs, quickly fade away. “Zoro please!” You stood up, almost immediately regretting it as you felt how weak your legs were. “Please my love, please don’t leave me like this.” You pressed your face into his bare chest, peeking up at him only to see he was very obviously looking away from you.

“I gave you very simple instructions” He spoke through clenched teeth. “Get off me” He shoved you away, sending the back of your knees into the bench press, forcing you to sit abruptly to avoid stumbling over it.

“It just felt so good,” He turned to face you, beginning to walk in your direction. And for a moment you thought he was actually going to take up his place between your legs. But you knew him better than that, so when he walked right past you and knelt down to pick up Wado you weren’t entirely surprised. “Please, I need you” You reached out, touching his back in an attempt to get him to look at you, instead he shook your hand off of him, standing up and walking away from you as he slid Wado back into the sheath that was still tied to his hip before stuffing his still hard cock back into his pants like it was nothing.

You watched as he untied his three swords from the ring normally covered by his red sash, leaning them up against the wall before he walked over to you again. Standing silently over you, he stared down at you. But it didn’t feel like he was looking at you, more like he was looking through you. “Move.” You wordlessly stood up, stepping out of his way, picking up your shorts from the ground next to the bench press as he laid down and began to square up with the bar resting above him.

“The fuck did you just say?” You shrugged, reached down to where your shirt had landed and pulling it over your head. “Say it again, I fucking dare you.”

You don’t even turn around, opting to scan the room for your socks. “Nothing.”

“Last chance” You sigh, turning on your heel and crossing your arms, chewing at the inside of your lip.

“I said,” You step closer to where he’s laying, watching him prop himself up so he can watch you speak. “I’m gonna’ go find Sanji. Maybe see if he can help me with what you couldn’t.” Rarely did you not get what you wanted, and when you felt his hand around your neck and your back up against the wall, the air forced out of your lungs, you knew today was no different.

“You think that fucking cook could make you feel half as good as I can?”

“I don’t know, so far all you’ve done is tease me.” He laughs, his grip around your neck tightening.

“This is your last chance, if you fuck it up I’m done.”

“He couldn’t.” Zoro smirks.

“Couldn’t what?” His mouth is so close to your’s, almost within reach of your lips.

“He couldn’t make me feel as good as you can.” Your breath is coming in small bursts and you can feel yourself throb as you try to rub your thighs together for any sort of sensation. His other hand reached forward and pulled roughly at your pebbles nipple through the thin material of your shift, forcing a high whine from your throat.

“Only I get to hear your slutty little sounds, right?”

“Right”

“Who do you belong to?” His hand abandoned your nipple, running down your torso until it landed on the waist of your jean shorts, pulling at the material until the button was wrenched from spot.

“You” You breath out finally, feeling his lips against yours for the first time this afternoon. You feel his tongue run along your lower lip until it’s met with your own. His hand lets go of your neck, pushing your shorts down until you can step out of them before moving to grab the back of your thighs, lifting you so your legs can wrap around his waist. Somewhere between getting up from the bench press and forcing you against the wall, he must have opened his pants, pulling his cock free so it could rub at your folds as you lock your ankles around his waist. He takes one hand from your ass, pushing you against the wall harder as he positions his cock at your entrance, pausing for a second before pushing into you all at once.

You can’t help the breathy moan that slips past your lips as he begins fucking you against the wall with little to no warning. “God your cunt is just sucking me in” He grunts into your chest, his head tucked under your chin with your arms wrapped around his neck, nails digging into his back. “Don’t think I’m gonna last that long” He punctuates every word with a thrust, your ass hitting the wall every time. “Gonna make you mine, fill you up so no other man can have you.”

He steps away from the wall with no warning, forcing you to quickly wrap your arms around his neck and tighten your thighs around his waist as he lowered you to the floor, his cock never leaving you. When you felt the cool wood against you, your legs immediately went limp, only for a second before he grabbed them and threw them over his shoulders, forcing you down into a mating press.

“Zo please” You moaned, feeling your hamstrings burn.

“What could you possibly need now?” He grunted, sitting back on the balls of his feet enough to give your legs a slight break.

“I need you to touch me, I’m so close” You can practically feel your clit pulse from the lack of attention, bucking your hips slightly to drive home your point.

“God you’re such a needy slut” He says with a smirk, his left hand pressing down on your lower belly as his thumb rubs circles on your clit before he leans over again, bending you in half. “But you’re my needy slut” His hips slam into you over and over again while his thumb keeps a steady pace moving in tight circles on your clit. You can feel your orgasm approaching at a rapid speed, the moment Zoro starts sucking at your neck it hits you.

Your legs tense up, and a steady amount of moans cascade from your lips. The corners of your vision blur ever so slightly as you feel yourself milk his cock. You whine his name along with assorted curses as he continues his rough pace, fucking you through your orgasm while chasing his own. As your vision returns to normal you can now register Zoro’s thrusts getting more and more sloppy, his breath coming out in uneven pants and his hand has abandoned your clit to support himself on either side of your head. You cup his face in your hands, drawing his gaze up to meet your own with his one good eye. “Are you gonna fill me real good?” He smirked at you, nodding.

“M’gonna fuckin breed you.” You moaned at his words as his thrusts sputtered and you could feel him somehow going even deeper than before. He buried his face in your neck, groaning as he’s pushed over the edge. Thrusting into you as he came, fucking his seed as deep into you as he could, his breathing as labored as you’d ever seen it. He went limp in your arms, your legs slipping off his shoulders before he laid completely on you, you can feel his heart hammering against you as he tried to catch his breath.

His arms slowly wrapped around you as he rolled over so you were laying on his chest, his cock slipping out of you. You start to push yourself off of him but his arms tighten, holding you in place. “Where do you think you’re going” his voice is scratchy and he bends his knee so his thigh is against your pussy so his seed couldn’t drip out just yet.

“I gotta get up, we can’t just lay here all day. It’s gotta be almost dinner.” You try to squirm free but his grip tightens again. He didn’t say anything, just held you tighter against him as he pressed his face into the top of your head, his hands running down your back, rubbing any soreness from your muscles.

“We’re gonna’ have to work on you holding Wado.” He mumbled into your hair, pressing a kiss to your crown.

“Maybe we can give it another try after dinner?” Despite the soreness you felt in your hips and legs, the way he had looked at you when you had his sword between you teeth was something you were determined to see again. You felt him smile against you, a small huff of a laugh as he said, “You’re on.”

#one piece smut #ao3 author #one piece #ao3 #zoro smut #zoro x reader #kinktober #kinktober 2024

133 notes · View notes