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buckyownsmylife · 4 years

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Make it back to me - Andy Barber smut

The one where Andy fulfills his promise and gives you a future together.

Warnings: smut, daddy kink, insecure!Andy for a minute there, divorce, talks of infidelity because reader was the other woman, breeding kink

A/N: this is technically a follow-up to this drabble I wrote during kinktober!

Andy’s P.O.V.

My heart was pounding against my chest even before her beautiful face appeared from the office’s door. It was clear that she was confused, but I was too excited about it to even be able to verbalize what had happened and what we were about to do. So the plan was to just show her.

“You know, I usually like surprises, but this one is freaking me out,” she commented, and I laughed, throwing a glance at the rearview mirror before taking us out of the firm’s parking lot. I rubbed my thumbs on her knees, squeezing it in a hopefully reassuring gesture while I hummed a random song that had been stuck in my head since earlier.

I still couldn’t believe it.

I thought that maybe she would have connected the dots when I parked in an apartment complex’s garage, but by the inquisitive look she threw me, it was clear that wasn’t the case at all. So I laughed when I held her hand, kissing the back of it before pulling her along with me, up the stairs to the front hall.

“Andy, are you crazy? We can’t be holding hands in public like this. What if someone from the firm lives here and sees us together?” She whisper-shouted, and an euphoric feeling took over my chest at the realization of just how incredible my life was.

“Someone from the firm does live here,” I conceded, hugging her from behind and leaning down to fit my chin on her shoulder. “Me.” Saying it out loud only made it feel even more real, especially since she whipped her head to try to get a look at me, in an effort to understand just what I meant.

“What?” I only laughed, reaching out for her hand again and giving it a squeeze when the elevator doors opened, immediately stepping out to look for the door I held the key to. “Andy, what do you mean?”

I only smiled, patiently opening the door before letting her walk in and following behind. “Sweetheart… Meet my new apartment.” Once more, her head whipped around to stare at me, interrupting her visual exploration of the new environment.

“Andy…”

“I’m divorced,” I interrupted, effectively shutting her up. “It was finalized this morning. I talked to Laurel the day after that party. The day you got your promotion. I didn’t tell you before because I wanted it to be a sure thing,” I immediately explained when I saw her open her mouth to interject, but then she closed it, nodding as she accepted my justification.

“So while I waited for it to be processed, I bought this place. Do you like it? I was hoping you’d move in with me, I can’t wait to christen every room of this apartment.” Once again, she seemed surprised by my words, stopping her evaluation of the living room to stare at me with eyes twice their usual size.

“But you just… Andy, you just got divorced. Quite literally. You can’t tell me you want to immediately jump into the routine of a relationship again.” Frowning, I stepped forward, in her direction, arms reaching out to hold her hips so I could keep her in place while I tried to understand her emotions.

“You don’t want to be in a relationship with me?” My heart ached at the prospect, but she only huffed, rolling her eyes at me. Immediately, I felt somewhat comforted, although still confused about what was going on through her head.

“Of course I want to be in a relationship with you, you dummy. I just… I fear you’re jumpin too soon into this, and that you’ll grow to resent me. I don’t want to lose you.” Hearing her voice my own fears only made the need to have her closer rise within me, so before I could even realize what I was doing, I had her face cradled between my hands and our lips were connected again, as they always should be.

“And I don’t want to lose you,” I decided to voice it, so she could understand exactly where all of this was coming from, how it wasn’t simply a spur-of-the-moment gesture, any of it. “So what do you think I should do? Keep our relationship without strings, fearing that any moment now someone else will come and sweep you off of your feet? I don’t want to fuck anyone else, sweetheart. And I’ve been dreaming about living all of this domestic shit with you for a while, now. My marriage with Laurel didn’t end because I suddenly despised my ring, it ended because I didn’t love her anymore. But I love you. And I want this with you. Only you.”

Y/N’s P.O.V.

Now, what else could I possibly say? This was everything I had dreamed about, everything I’d been wishing for since day one, since my eyes connected with Andy’s and we shook hands in the office. And here he was, offering me a future together on a silver platter and I couldn’t find it in myself to fight against it anymore, even if the rational part of me thought this was a mistake.

Or maybe it was only my anxiety speaking, trying to get me to chicken out, to run away, convince me that this isn’t real and I’m not worthy of all of this love. Because the truth was, I was scared. Scratch that, I was downright *terrified. Because somewhere between the stolen kisses and the longing glances, I’d fallen head over heels for the man standing in front of me, who just poured his heart out in search of mine, and I never wanted to lose him.

“Okay,” was all I managed to say, instead, all I could get out. “Okay, let’s do this.” But still, maybe because Andy really was my long-lost soulmate, he seemed to understand. He managed to read between the lines, hear my devotion and my love in those simple words. I knew it because his eyes lit up, and just like that, I was being embraced by those delicious arms again, held like I was the most precious thing he had ever encountered and the only thing he needed to be happy.

He was everything to me.

“I love you, sweetheart.” Everything felt different, every pet name, every touch. It was sweeter, purer. There was no overwhelming pressure of rushing through this, trying to escape the sin, the guilt. This man was mine, now. I could finally relish every single second of this experience.

“I’ve wanted you since we’ve met,” I finally managed to admit it, making sure to look him in the eye so he could see just how serious I was about this. “I’m just so happy we finally get to be together, like… like a real couple.”

His soft smile was the reason for my heart faltering at times, and when he paired it with light brushes over my cheekbone with his thumbs, it was powerful enough to make me weak in the knees. Still, because it was Andy, after all, he couldn’t help but to tease me - I knew I should expect it from the mischief in his eyes.

“So, everything we did before, it doesn’t count?” I huffed at the same time he started laughing, barely seeing me rolling my eyes at his childish behavior since he had tears in his. And despite how much I wanted to be annoyed at him for ruining such a beautiful moment, I could only feel warm inside from seeing him this happy, and being here to share this new beginning of his.

“You know what? No, it doesn’t, daddy. You’re gonna have to get me reacquainted with your cock all over again. Are you up for the challenge?” He laughed out loud at this, beautiful face suddenly looking boyish as his eyes closed for a moment. so that he could fully enjoy his happiness.

Andy’s P.O.V.

“When you look this fuckable? It won’t be a challenge at all, darling.” I watched with perverse pleasure as she shivered from my words, eyes suddenly darkening with lust as she bit her lower lip. “Now c’mon. Let’s start christening this place.”

My first step was the bedroom, of course. I had bought a new bed with the sole intention of ravishing her on it. Sleep was secondary. “Take off your clothes,” I commanded as soon as we were inside the new room, quickly taking off my shirt before sitting on the mattress. “Slowly,” I added when I saw her initially run to obey, but then a small smile painted her beautiful lips as her movements became more fluid.

“Someone wants a show,” she teased, revealing her perfect body little by little, each new inch making the anticipation rise in me. Damn right I wanted a show. But any amount of time I got to spend with her was a spectacle of itself. She was the muse I once believed I would never find. “Like what you see?”

“Fuck yes. Come here.” She approached me slowly too, soft hands I knew too well running over her own body and making me desperate to be the one that was touching her. “I want to worship your body the way that you deserve it, after waiting for me for so long.”

I saw her eyes soften at that, her hands cradling my face when she was close enough to hop on my lap. “I’d wait even longer if I had to.” It made me happier than anything else, knowing that she was as happy with me as I was with her.

So I pulled her to meet my lips again, groaning as I got my taste of her - but it was enough. It would never be enough, especially now that I knew I was hers and hers only. And then she inadvertently started grinding against me and it almost had me falling back against the bed. “God, you’re hot,” I moaned as I watched from under my eyelashes the way that she moved for me and only me.

“I love when you talk dirty.” Her giggles were the sweetest sound I ever heard, and I loved to be the cause for them. But my need for her was so pressing, that I ended up cutting them short by pulling her for another kiss, while adjusting her until she was sitting on one of my thighs.

“That’s nothing, darling. You know just how dirty I can be, and you still haven’t seen everything I got up my sleeve. Come on, move those hips for me,” I directed, helping her ride my thigh by the grip I held on her ass.

“You know what I want to do to you?” I asked, my voice dropping a tone as I whispered in her ear, needing to see her cum for me for the first night that night. “I want to lick all over your skin without the fear of being interrupted,” I started, reminiscing about just how many things I wanted to experience with her now that we were officially together. “Do you know how great it will be now that what we’re doing isn’t improper?”

Y/N almost laughed, but it came out as a gasp as I flexed the muscles underneath her, making my thigh a bit harder for her to rub her sweet cunt against. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we’ll definitely keep doing some pretty improper stuff…” I forced her to quicken her movements until she was cumming before my eyes, sweet, sweet whimpers falling from her lips as she struggled to catch her breath. “... I just won’t have to feel guilty about them anymore.”

As I turned us over to lay her body on the mattress, our lips dancing together once more, the realization that this was my life now making my head feel light with all the happiness inside of me. This was my bed, this was my woman and it was only just beginning.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Well, that’s a relief,” I teased, taking advantage of the little break that he had given my lips as he slowly but surely laid kissed around every inch of my chest. “For a second there, I thought you wouldn’t want to do dirty things to me anymore.”

That earned me a laugh, muffled by the way his lips were pressed against my neck and making me laugh by reflex, since his beard kept tickling me. “Oh, believe me, pretty girl… There’s a lot of dirty stuff I want to do to you. And I won’t lie, some of them are probably still going to happen in my office.”

I tried to swallow back a whimper that made its way to my lips as Andy licked a stripe up my neck, only stopping to nibble on my jaw before admitting to his plans. “After all, I really can’t control myself when you wear those tight skirts to work. But I don’t think they can really be blamed.”

Pink lips wrapped around my nipple and a gasp did escape me, my hands flying to hold Andy’s locks to keep him attached to my chest, but he had other ideas. “I just can’t seem to be able to be near you without desperately wanting you,” he finished, eyes connected to mine and mouth glistening with the saliva he had spread over my breasts. “You’re just too much of a temptation.”

Now, of course, after such a declaration, what can a girl do? I didn’t seem to find the words to vocalize just how I felt about him too, too busy trying to control my heart and clutching his shoulders while he sucked lovebites all over my exposed body. We didn’t really have to worry about them now, even if they would seem terribly unprofessional for some of the senior partners.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” he urged, and I swallowed dryly before finally voicing, “I want your cock in my mouth, daddy. I want to make you feel good.” Andy audibly groaned at my request, quickly rolling off of me and discarding his pants while I assumed a familiar and very comfortable position between his legs.

My mouth watered at the sight of his already fully hardened member, and I reached out to replace his hand that was slowly jerking it off with mine, leaning down to give the head a small kitten lick just like I knew he liked to be teased.

“Fuck, darling,” he moaned, and I could feel myself growing wetter at the pure power that I felt at having this man so fucking needy for me. When I slowly started to suck on the head of his cock, making my way further down inch by inch, the signs of impatience that became evident in his body only made my desire grow.

“C’mon, pretty girl,” he half begged, half ordered, leg twisting behind me in an effort to control himself. “Take it all on your own, like you always do. Make me proud.” Shit, he knew just what to say to have me quickly gagging on his cock out of my own free will.

I didn’t even think twice before going down on him until my lips met his navel. If anything, the strangled moan he tried to stop, the way his hips instinctively raised up and blocked the air from my lungs, making my eyes water, only served as incentives for me to keep going, up and down, up and down, licking and swirling and sucking until my jaw started to hurt and still, I didn’t want to stop.

Andy’s P.O.V.

It was always a battle between allowing myself to spill in her delicious mouth or perfect pussy, but today, I had other plans - and they involved me having to exercise incredible restraint as I pulled her away from my member by her hair, chuckling at the whine she let out.

“Lay down,” I ordered nodding towards the bed, and she quickly did so, crawling on her hands and knees towards the center of the mattress, but just before she could reach it, I pulled her by her ankle and turned her around myself.

“Can’t wait to fill you, sweetheart.” I was impatient, that much was obvious, but I don’t think she minded by the way her hips thrusted back to meet my fingers as I fucked her open with them, using my thumb to rub her throbbing little clit. “Do you want that?”

She nodded, managing to hold eye contact but not capable of saying anything, her bottom lip held tightly by her teeth as she struggled to swallow the whines I begged to hear. “Beg me for it,” I ordered, picking up the pace and curling my digits until I was able to hit her sweet spot every time I thrusted into her tight channel. “I want to know how badly you want me, I want to see if it even *comes close to my own desire for you.”

A gasp was still all I received as a response, and I had to contain my smile as I slowed down my movements, making them sweeter but deeper. I knew what was holding her back, and it wasn’t the weakness of her desire when contrasted to mine. “It’s alright, darling. You can scream, you can cry out my name as loud as you want. We don’t have to be quiet anymore.”

When her eyes met mine again, I could see that she understood, but it was still hard for her to fully let go. So I picked up the pace of my fingers, leaning over her to suck a bruise on her collarbones before whispering in her ear, “C’mon, pretty girl. I’ve always loved to see you squirming, trying to keep those beautiful sounds in, but right now, I’m dying to hear you moan.”

Her orgasm was what finally made her lose control, cumming while screaming my name, making me grin from ear to ear and keep the pace of my digits until her hand covered my wrist, a silent plea for me to let her calm down. I allowed her that, pulling away from her with a brief kiss on the forehead before turning my attention to myself, curling my fist around my cock that twitched with only that slight stimulation, probably because of the debauched scene before me.

It didn’t take long for her small hand to cover mine, forcing myself to jerk the throbbing member as a sign that she was ready for more, now. And so I pulled her even closer, forcing her legs to open wider before I rubbed the head of my cock between her lower lips, gathering some of the moisture there.

“You ready?” Pushing into her for the first time was always incredible. Often, it’d take me back to that long night we’d spent trying to work on a difficult case, when it all became too much for both of us to handle and I gave into temptation, bending her over my desk before burying myself inside of her.

The way she gasped so prettily at the feeling of my cock stretching her open was still the same, and it mirrored the way I groaned at how her tight walls squeezed me as I tried to bottom out inside of her. “So fucking tight,” I noted, arms resting on each side of her face as I waited for us both to grow used to the feeling of being connected again.

I kissed her once more before starting to move, losing myself in the taste of her while she messed up my hair, running her fingers through it to hold onto the locks when I did start to fuck her against the mattress. The feeling of her hands traveling further south, until suddenly I felt her nails running down my back, had me jerking abruptly in surprise, the realization that now she could leave marks on my body only leaving me more desperate for her, to make her mine once and for all.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck.” The way he gasped against my mouth was so pretty, I wanted to keep hearing it for the rest of my life. “You’re mine now, sweetheart. This is where you’ll spend the rest of your life, right here, getting filled by my cock over and over again.”

It didn’t seem like a bad future to have, especially when he squeezed my hips so tight, trying to control himself so this wouldn’t end so soon. “Fuck, no one can make me feel as good as you do, darling. No one.”

My body felt warm, like a fire had been lit inside, and the only thing that made it simultaneously more controlled and brighter was kissing him, feeling him connected to me, from his forehead to his toes.

I loved this man. God, I loved him, and it felt so good to be able to feel this way, without having any guilt attached to this wonderful feeling. Knowing that he was now mine and only mine, that I could give my whole heart to him without any fear, because he’d given me his.

It felt different this time, regardless of the dozens of times I’d had him inside of me. It was like we were both stripped to our very soul, finally getting to introduce them to each other, and there was a connection, a certain recognition that I just couldn’t put into words - especially not when he was fucking me this good. We just worked. It’s like despite how it all began, we were meant to be.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” And it was that declaration of love that had me clenching around him, reaching the high of desire that only he could show me. It didn’t surprise me that as soon as my orgasm began, he started to lose the rhythm of his thrusts, until he was groaning, “I’m cumming, I’m gonna cum inside of you, just like I promised, pretty girl.”

The reminder seemed to awaken every single nerve end on my body, and I gasped as I felt another orgasm building as his movements grew more frantic. “Don’t you want it? Don’t you want my cum? Say it, sweetheart. Say you want my cum.”

The reality of the situation hit me then, serving as an added stimulation to my already overworked body. He really wanted this. We were really doing this. “Yes, of course I want it. I want your cum, daddy.”

That was it for him. I watched as Andy threw his head back, eyes closed in bliss while his biceps bulged in an effort to keep him from falling on top of me. “Yessss… Make me a dad, Y/N,” he roared, suddenly pushing himself away from me to hold my legs open even wider, fingertips buried on the flesh of my thighs.

I felt his release paint my insides, and our eyes connected just then, acknowledging the weight of the moment between us. His hand reached out to stroke my chin before he carefully rolled us over so I could rest on his chest without him leaving me.

“I can’t believe we get to stay here for as long as we want,” he suddenly spoke, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen between us. “No more excuses, no more hiding. Just you and me, and this big and comfortable bed.”

“I can’t believe I get to fall asleep next to you…” I whispered, lightly tracing over his jawline until he turned to meet my eyes, hand holding my wrist tightly to catch my attention - as if it wasn’t already on him.

“I can’t believe you think you’ll be getting any sleep tonight.” And with that fortunate prediction into my future, I knew it would be full of giggles and satisfaction, just as long as I got to have Andy by my side.

#andy barber smut #smut #andy barber #my fics #andy barber reader #andy barber reader insert #andy barber x reader #andy barber x y/n #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #andy barber oneshot #andy barber imagine

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blackkatmagic · 3 years

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How about an Arla time travel fixit. Her plan basically amounts to beating the stupid out of her brother and killing a couple Sith before destroying the Death Watch. if she falls in love with the surprisingly badass senator from Naboo along the way, well that's just gravy.

“My brother’s trying to kill you,” Arla says.

From everything she’s seen and read about Naboo’s former queen, the fact that there's a blaster out and aimed at her head before she’s even finished speaking isn't a surprise at all. Arla's in no mood to get shot today, so she doesn’t move, just waits, leaning back against the window in the senator’s room, helmet tucked under her arm and all of her weapons in clear view.

After a long, long moment, Padmé takes two careful steps forward, one to the side, and brings the lights up with a touch, her eyes never leaving Arla. “Your brother,” she repeats, her blaster still leveled at Arla's head. “I don’t suppose your brother is Count Dooku.”

Arla pulls the face that question deserves. “I'm no sorry to say he isn't,” she says. “But Count Dooku is the one who hired him to kill you, if that makes you feel better.”

Some faint hint of amusement pulls at Padmé’s mouth, though she doesn’t relent. “And are you working with him to kill me?”

Rolling her eyes, Arla bends down to set her helmet on the floor, then straightens, raising her hands. “If I wanted to kill you,” she says, and gives Padmé a lazy smile, “I wouldn’t have announced myself, Senator. I'm just here to keep my idiot brother from managing it.”

Padmé takes a breath, finally lowering her blaster. “I already have Jedi keeping me safe,” she points out. “Whoever your brother is, he can't get past them.”

Arla can't help the way her smile goes crooked, just a little. “Believe me, Senator, Jango Fett can get past whoever he wants.” When Padmé freezes, she tips her head in confirmation. “I'm Arla Fett. Former of the Death Watch, formerly of a Republic prison, formerly a brainwashed assassin. Jango might be able to get past Jedi, but he won't get past me.”

Brown eyes locked on her, Padmé takes a few steps closer. “I haven’t heard of you,” she says. “Why not approach the Jedi directly, if you know who’s after me? And who hired him?”

Arla grins at her, all teeth. And—she could go to the Jedi. She could tell them about the Sith, and about how he’s going to take over the galaxy, and how Arla saw it firsthand, with an ex-Jedi survivor who stripped her memories away and then married her despite that. Maybe some part of the skin-crawling revulsion she feels at the idea is attached to the fact that she could meet Bardan in the halls of the Temple, but—

She came back. She woke up in the Valorum Center, all her memories her own, with a cold, sinking certainty that she knew precisely what was about to happen. But knowing means she can fix it, and this time she won't spend ten years locked in a cell, babbling Mando’a to herself. This time, she’s going to use what the Death Watch made her and change the galaxy.

“It’s a family matter,” she says. “I'm morally obligated to find my brother and beat the snot out of him for what he’s done to my nephews. And after that, I'm going to find Dooku and shake a confession out of him, because he’s about to use an army of droids to try and take over the Republic.”

The flare of grim victory lights Padmé’s face, sharpens the planes of it and makes her expression into one that tangles Arla's breath in her throat. “I knew it was him,” she says, fists curling. “His talk of seceding from the galaxy—that’s part of it, isn't it?”

Arla nods. “There's a Sith Lord pulling the strings beyond just Dooku,” she says. “But Dooku's trying to start a war for him. I'm going to stop him.”

Padmé’s gaze flickers from Arla to her blaster, and she deftly slides it back into its holster, then straightens, smoothing her dress down, and says, “I'm going to help.”

Arla blinks, then tips her head. “Help,” she repeats, bemused. “I just told you I'm going after two Sith Lords. And my brother, who was hired to murder you.”

“You also just told me a Sith Lord was trying to take over the Republic,” Padmé says, and passes Arla to pick up a hooded cloak and travel-worn bag from their place by the window. Emergency supplies, Arla thinks, eyeing them and then eyeing the senator herself. She’s packed to be able to run if she needs to. Not stupid, certainly. And not so brave that she’s going to get herself killed.

Looking up, Padmé meets her eyes, and that smile is quick and graceful and full of steel. “Your brother killed one of my handmaidens. Cordé was a dear friend, and I'm not about to let him put any more of my people at risk. If you can find him, I'm going with you.”

Well. Arla wasn’t expecting this, but it’s not like she has a solid plan here anyway. She’s flying on instinct and reaction and sheer rage, and adding Padmé to that can probably only help.

“He’s on Kamino,” she says, and when Padmé raises a brow, she shrugs. “Or, really, he will be. Once he fails to kill you, he’ll bolt back there. Jango's an idiot, but he’s a predictable one. And I need to go to Kamino anyways, to punch a few people. And hug my nephews.”

Padmé smiles. “Then how about we get there before him?” she suggests, straightening. “Will he recognize you, if we leave together?”

Arla snorts, rapping the knuckles of her gauntlets against the black of her armor. “Jango thinks I'm dead,” she says succinctly. “And he won't know my armor, either. Hope you don’t mind dodging those Jedi watching you, Senator. I'm not in the mood to be talked down right now.”

Padmé’s smile is a little crooked, but she steps forward. “The window opens,” she says, like a challenge. “Does that jetpack actually work?”

“It’ll carry two, even,” Arla retorts, and crosses the remaining space between them, pulling her helmet on and then wrapping an arm around Padmé’s waist, pulling her in tight. “Ready, milady?”

Padmé’s fingers curl into her armor. “Beskar,” she says, and it’s breathless enough to be gratifying. “You're wearing pure beskar, but you painted it black.”

Arla grins behind her helmet, unlatching the window and shoving it open. “Black for justice,” she says. “Jango will know what it means when he sees it. And when I punch him in the mouth.”

Padmé laughs, getting an arm around Arla's neck and holding on tight. She’s so close that Arla could kiss her, and Arla can feel she’s got a lot more weapons on her than just the blaster. “I get the leftovers?” she asks, and Arla takes two steps back, right to the edge of the drop.

“Senator, you can have whatever pieces of my idiot brother you want,” she promises, and hits the thrusters.

[On AO3]

#my writing #arlapadme #arla fett #padme amidala #star wars

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dreamingofaizawa · 3 years

Text

Powerful Ch. 2

Yakuza! Shouta Aizawa x Fem! Reader

*Mafia AU*

Warnings: Misogyny (not from Shouta), a dagger, kinda fluffy

Word Count: 3.5 k

Author’s Note: This is turning out pretty good, I think. It’s turning into a kind of slow-burn ish thing, and as much as I can’t stand slow-burn sometimes, I’m liking it so far. If I’m being honest I feel like (hopefully) this is the thing that can help me get over my smut writing block. I haven’t been able to get myself to write smut for a while, and I’m hoping this can help me fix it.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

Also, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I usually put in that little line spacer when there’s a pov change. You know, this one:

____

So yeah. And the three asterisks (except the ones at the beginning):

* * * Usually means a timeskip. If it’s unlabelled it’s only a short skip, anything over 24 hours I’ll label.

Enjoy~

Shouta woke you up, his rough hands rubbing your back and deep voice softly calling your name. When you let your eyes flutter open you realize you’re still on top of him, only your head is further cradled into his neck and your leg had found its way around his waist. The position had your face warming as you lifted your head and met his dark eyes.

“Good morning, little one.” He sounded groggy, like he’d just woken up himself. You pulled away and he released you so you could sit up. Off of him. You couldn’t quite hold his gaze, so you looked down at the bedsheets.

“Good morning, Shouta.” He sits up beside you, a hand grasping your chin and making you look at him.

“Am I too forward? Or are you afraid of me, little one?” You raise your eyebrows, not expecting him to really consider your own comfort.

“Can I speak freely?” He nods, and you take a breath.

“You are being just a little forward, but I think it’s only really enhanced because you’re known for being cold and unwelcoming. And also the fact that we only formally met last night.” His hand drops, and he waits for the second half of your answer. You take a moment to choose your wording, make sure you’re accurately communicating your feelings without offending him.

“While I do feel awkward and, frankly, small around you I don’t necessarily fear you. So far you’ve shown that you aren’t cruel, and though you are capable of some...violent things, I have no reason yet to believe you would be violent toward me.” A small smile tugs at his lips, a foreign thing to see.

“I assure you, I am not a violent lover. Nor will I ever be.” He reaches over and grabs your hand, lifting it to his face and leaving a soft kiss on your knuckles. It’s a simple, sweet gesture that has your face and chest heating. Then he gets up and you follow him out to the living room where three large suitcases are waiting. Your suitcases, you realize, Mother and Father must have packed all your clothing and had them sent here. Shouta picks up two of them and you take the last one, returning to the bedroom.

“The closet has plenty of room, so go ahead and sort everything out. I’ll be in my office. Once you’re done just wait for me, we’ll be going out later.” You nod, and he’s disappearing into his office. For the first time, you take a good look at the room. Your room now, you remind yourself.

It’s large, enough to fit three more king beds with plenty of spare room. The king-sized mattress sits in a black frame that was built to look like it was hovering inches off the ground, fitted with light gray sheets and a large black comforter. The entire room is illuminated by lights embedded in the ceiling, the floor a dark hardwood that matches the doors to the bathroom and walk-in closet. A table sat on either side of the bed, both painted black to match the bed frame.

The walk-in closet is big as well, though it’s much brighter than the main bedroom. The floor is smooth white tile, a white center island with a glass top looking into the top drawers that held numerous watches and ties. Most of Shouta’s clothing seems to be folded, the suits and more high-end clothing the only pieces hung up. You filled the empty spaces with your own clothing, keeping everything organized like you had back at home. With everything tucked away, you decided it was time to change out of the robe, tugging on undergarments you missed those, a pair of loose sweatpants and a racerback tank top. Then you brought the now empty suitcases back to the living room and dug through the kitchen for some breakfast.

____

Shouta emerged from his office to you humming to yourself as you worked over the stove of bacon and pancakes. He didn’t even know he had bacon, let alone the ingredients for pancakes. It was quite cute, seeing you bounce lightly along with the tune you’re humming, spatula in hand. It’s a domestic sight, completely foreign to him. He leaned on the doorframe, choosing to admire you a while longer.

“Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come get some food?” He blinked, slightly shocked, you hadn’t even turned around to see if he was there. You must have heard the door open, though he made sure none of the doors in his home creaked. It’s an irritating noise. He made his way over to you, hooking his chin over your shoulder and placing his large hands on your waist.

He knows he’s moving a little fast with the intimacy. He’d asked you earlier, though you said you didn’t mind, you were absolutely right that it’s weird being so close so soon. In all honesty, as long as you’re alright with it he wants to continue being touchy like this. He’s never truly had any interest in naming a partner, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t want company. He’s been lonely for a long time, longing for someone to hold, and while he’s absolutely sure any woman would love to court him willingly, he wants someone special.

He can’t stand the women that throw themselves at any man with power and money, most of them only in it for their own gain. If he were to announce before the ball that he was looking to name a wife, he’d probably have had a line of fawning women on their best behavior to butter him up, flirting and smiling those too-big smiles in an attempt to get a rock on their finger and power to wield at their leisure. That’s why he’d decided to watch from afar, and you struck him as different the moment he’d laid eyes on you.

The more time he spent in your company, the more he’s commending himself for picking you. You’re one of the probable few that held a semi-neutral opinion of him, not fearful nor starstruck. You’re intelligent, well-articulated, and while you have your limits you tend to go with the flow, let the wind carry you this way and that. And you’re honest with him, he has no doubt you’ll tell him if there’s a boundary he crosses.

____

You’re grateful he can’t quite tell the state you’re in right now. Shouta’s hands on your waist flustered you, more than you care to admit. Sure, he’s advancing rather quickly, but you meant it when you said you didn’t mind. You’d been forbidden from dating, made to save yourself for the strategic marriage your father had planned. For the longest time you’d wanted to be held, touched and loved by someone. And here Shouta is, fulfilling all your teenage daydreams. He has no reason to be so close behind closed doors, where no one can see you, so he must feel some sort of real attraction toward you right? Otherwise he’d be more closed off, only opting to speak on his own terms and not caring at all about you or your comfort.

You shake yourself from your thoughts and the two of you sit at the dining table, quietly eating your breakfast. It is a little awkward, but you expected as much. Shouta, like you, probably isn’t used to eating with another person. You both finish breakfast soon, and once the dishes are washed Shouta startles you with his next words.

“We’ll be leaving in an hour or two for a lunch meeting with a few other clans.” You have to take a pause and think about what he’d just said.

“We? You want me to join you?” A part of you wants him to confirm it, another hopes he doesn’t.

“Yes, I want you there with me.” Cue your confusion.

“It’s almost unheard of, having a woman in a clan meeting.” As much as you hate the patriarchy and its traditions, they are still traditions that, once challenged, could upset many people.

“Let’s say I’m breaking the status-quo. If I’m going to have a wife, she’ll be wielding my power alongside me, not just existing as a means to further the bloodline.” It becomes apparent to you that Shouta, despite his position, is very much not traditional. You turn to him and lean against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms over your chest.

“So why have you chosen me? I’m the daughter of a very low-ranked oyabun, have almost no experience compared to you and I am most definitely not someone other oyabun would approve to be your wife, let alone leading the entirety of the Yakuza.” He quirks an eyebrow at you, crossing his own arms.

“I don’t care what other oyabun may think of me or my choices, they don’t dictate what I do. As for why I’ve chosen you, it’s quite simple. I’ve known you for less than a day and it’s already obvious to me that you can take most things in stride, without allowing it to affect you emotionally. You’re good at compartmentalizing your own thoughts, can keep a level head under pressure, and that’s exactly what I need.” Your own eyebrows raise, not expecting a read like that.

“And last night as I watched you, it was clear to me that you’re skilled at masking your emotions, especially nervousness or fear. Think about what any other woman would have done, had I walked up to them and asked their name. Before I could get another word out they’d probably drop to their knees and begin begging for their lives. Most would probably faint on the spot, pounce on me, or any other number of unsavory responses after announcing a sudden engagement to me. But you? You did nothing, simply answering my question and taking my hand with no theatrics.”

You nod slowly, mildly understanding his point. While it’s true you had almost no reaction, you’re almost sure there’d be at least a dozen other women in that hall that would have reacted the way you had.

“Still, there must have been many others that acted like I did. For me to be so completely unique is…” You trailed off, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Unlikely? Yes. Impossible? No. I trust my own judgement, little one, and you should have a little more faith in yourself. Now, let’s go get ready. I’ve already got a dress for you to wear. It’s only semi-formal, we’ll be going to a restaurant for this meeting.” You give a small sigh as you follow him into the bedroom.

All you can do now is go along with it, whether you trust his judgement or not. Suddenly being put in a position of so much power is stressing you out a little bit, but Shouta isn’t wrong about your compartmentalization. The stress could be dealt with later, right now you have a meeting to attend.

* * *

On second thought, maybe the stress should have been dealt with earlier. Standing outside the restaurant, wrapped around Shouta’s arm is making your heart pound in your chest. You’re unconsciously squeezing his bicep, and even as he looks down at you, there's nothing on your face to indicate your nerves. You’re completely deadpanned, eyes focused and mind working overtime. Shouta’s calloused hand falls over yours, a mildly comforting gesture.

“Don’t worry, little one. The most you’ll have to do is sit still and look pretty. I’m aware of your inexperience, I don’t expect you to be put on the spot. If you are and feel uncomfortable then all you need to do is tap my leg. You’ll be fine.” You nod. The pep-talk is appreciated, but it isn’t the meeting itself you’re worried about. What kind of backlash will Shouta be getting once you enter? What will be said about his reputation afterward? All you can do is wait and see.

You stride into the venue, and are led to a private room by a hostess. You can hear the casual conversation from the open door, but once you’re inside the immediate silence is unsettling. You don’t need to look directly at the half dozen men to know all their eyes are fixed on you as you both sit at the head of the table. Shouta quickly and smoothly brings the attention off of you.

“It’s good to see you, gentlemen. Let’s get this meeting started, shall we?” The tension in the room is still palpable, the clear discomfort from the men hadn’t vanished, but their main focus now is the subject of the meeting. You sit and listen carefully as they talk about several things, from natural disaster preparations to minor territory disputes. Some of the smaller syndicates under these oyabun had spread operations outside their borders, but that was quickly settled as most was due to small misunderstandings and unclear borders. Soon the meeting was nearly coming to a close, and suddenly Shouta left to use the restroom.

And now, you’re a lioness in a clan of hyenas.

You keep quiet, listening to their conversation and following along with the political debates to further familiarize yourself with the inner workings of the higher circle. Suddenly the table goes quiet, and you lift your eyes from the table to meet the gaze of six men that value tradition. Unsure what to do, you drop your gaze again, but don’t drop your chin, choosing to look down your nose at the wood grain. Shouta had told you to hold yourself as he does, and you make sure to try, but you know when to keep to yourself.

“Tell me, girl, what are you doing here?” You blink, not expecting to be confronted so blatantly. You look up at the man who had asked the question. He looks to be in his late forties, jet black hair graying at the temples and striking brown eyes aged and tired. He’s not thin, a little heavier-set, but it’s clear there was a point that he was fit and muscular. He’s already irked you. You nod your head, a small bow, before calmly answering.

“My name is (y/n). I would appreciate it if you could please use it, Oyabun. I am here because Shouta wants me to be here.” The man narrows his eyes at you, a small scoff comes from one of the others but you don’t avert your eyes to him.

“Well why does he want you here, girl?” The blatant rejection of your request made your blood boil, but you kept a pleasant face.

“I don’t know. If you wish to know you may need to ask him yourself, Oyabun. And please, call me (y/n).” You’re certain he won’t use your name, and you addressing it again will probably anger him, but you can’t care too much when you know you’re within your right to ask that anyone use your name. Especially when you yourself are using a title for the man.

“I’ll address you how I see fit. Just because you’re the Black Dragon’s fiance does not mean I will acknowledge you as anyone of importance.” Ah, that’s right. You had forgotten Shouta’s nickname. Black Dragon is the name people used for him, whether they were afraid of the man or in awe of him. You take an imperceptible, steadying breath. Misogyny is one of the few things that challenge your composure.

“I do not ask you to acknowledge me as a person who holds power. In fact, I am aware of my previous rank and understand that it was maybe unwise to have me here. All I ask is that you please use my name.” The near growl that escapes the man does nothing to your self-control, doesn’t even strike any kind of emotion other than irritation. At this point, the other five men seem to be siding with you, their gazes fixed on the rather aggressive-reacting oyabun with something akin to confusion.

“Do not talk back to me, girl! I should remind you of your place here.” The other men sit in shock as he rises from his seat and begins to circle the table. He must have had tunnel vision, because Shouta’s voice cuts through the room so abruptly he freezes, his eyes snapping over to the entrance where Shouta stands, glaring daggers at him.

“Touch her, and I will personally bury you six feet under.” The man is frozen in shock, almost in disbelief. He tries, albeit weakly, to get Shouta on his side.

“O-oyabun! I… This girl, she--”

“I believe she asked you to use her name. Politely, might I add.” He’d been listening? How long had he stood there?

“In fact, you should address her as Onna-oyabun.” Your breath caught at that, the same as the rest of the room. That title was a myth, a rarity in its own right. There were so few instances where that title was applied to a woman under such specific circumstances that it’s a mere legend today. The most recent was an old woman who had inherited her deceased husband’s clan, which was extremely small, and even that was long ago.

Shouta’s hand landed on your shoulder, his rough thumb drawing small circles into your skin. He was silent, waiting for the older man, or anyone in the room, to oppose him. You could feel his glare in the faces of the other clans’ oyabun, the intensity of it making even you uneasy. It felt like an eternity before Shouta spoke again, venom laced in every syllable.

“I’ve chosen to let you keep all of your teeth, in favor of keeping her from seeing what violence I’m capable of. Next time, I won’t be so gracious. It’s time to go, little one.” You bow your head quickly before taking Shouta’s extended hand and strolling out of the room.

In the car, it’s silent. You have every intention of apologizing for causing a scene, though you aren’t sure if you should speak here or at home. Shouta doesn’t leave you any options.

“What is it? There’s something bothering you.” How perceptive.

“I’m sorry, Shouta.” He turns his head, his expression questioning your intelligence.

“For what? For asking to be addressed in a way that isn’t demeaning? He had no reason to ask why you were there, let alone attempt to attack you like that. I always hated that man, you’ve just given me a reason to threaten him.” You did a double-take.

“You heard everything? How long were you standing at the door?”

“Ah. I put a bug in the metal piece on the front of your dress. I knew they might be unsavory toward you, and with me out of the room they were more likely to speak their minds.” You nearly gawked at him. No wonder he’d chosen your dress for you.

“You never went to use the restroom.” He shook his head.

“No, I didn’t. It is I who should be apologizing, little one. The entire ordeal was intentional, as much as I hoped it wouldn’t actually take such a turn. Though I will say I was serious about that title. I fully intend to marry you, and I intend to have you by my side for every meeting from here on out.” You suck in a sharp breath at that bit of information. Marriage seemed like such an abstract concept until now, having Shouta say it somehow made it all the more solid. And to join him for every meeting?

“As long as there are no more surprise incidents then I think I can come with you.” A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, and he squeezed your hand.

“Deal. Though I may need to do that a few more times just to keep some men in line.” You let yourself giggle, he must hate a few of the others as well.

“In that case I’ll help you. I was afraid he’d actually get me for a second there.”

“Really? You didn’t even react. What if I were a split second too late?” You smirked, a mischievous little tug at your lips.

“Well if you were too late he’d have at least one stab wound and be bleeding out on the floor.” He shoots you a bewildered look before you tug up the hem of your dress, exposing a large dagger strapped to your thigh. He can’t contain his laughter, throwing his head back and wiping away at a few stray tears once he can breathe again. You can’t help but laugh with him, and notice just how handsome he looks when he’s happy, or in this case amused.

“Wouldn’t that be an unpleasant surprise.” He chuckles a bit more, getting it all out of his system before looking over at you.

“Regardless, I won’t be letting them get that close. I’m sure you’re capable of defending yourself, and as much as I’d love to see you stab an annoying misogynist, the risk to your safety still remains. Not to mention he disregarded my warning last night. You’re untouchable, little one, he knows this and still thought he could touch even a single hair on your head.”

You let a small smile settle on your lips, lacing your fingers with Shouta’s as a comfortable silence falls between you.

******************************

Tags:

@inumorph

#shouta aizawa #shouta aizawa x reader #shouta aizawa x fem reader #shouta aizawa mha #shouta aizawa bnha #aizawa shouta #aizawa shouta x reader #aizawa shouta x fem reader #aizawa shouta mha #aizawa shouta bnha #aizawa bnha #aizawa mha

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softmothprince · 4 years

Text

Blood in the Water

more kiri content cause i lob him. the same person who helped me with dragon’s claim worked on this with me cause i’m awkward when it comes to fluff

tw: blood is mentioned, spit (some people don't like it), fighting is mentioned (not between kiri and reader)

Kirishima peppered her forehead with kisses and giggled, “So cute!”

She giggled back and tried to pull away from him, “Kiri please! We’re never gonna get any of the shopping done if you keep this up.”

“Sorry pebble I just can’t help myself. I’m just so happy! We’re mates now!” he said nuzzling into her neck. “You’re my mate now, and you have my mark on you forever.”

She giggled and hugged him tight, “Even without a mark I’m yours forever. Now come on we have shopping to do if you want me to make dinner tonight.”

Kirirshima kissed her before grabbing her hand as they walked around the store. They finished and started to head home when he saw a bakery across the street.

“Woah check it out baby shark! That place looks new. Want to go take a look to see if we get something for dessert later?”

“Sure. I’ll be right here while you go in,” she said balancing the bag on her arm.

Kirishima pouted, “Wait you’re not coming with me?”

“Not this time babe. I’m still a little woozy from the pheromone changes going on. But don’t let me stop you go on and see what’s in there.”

“I don’t know,” he said hesitantly.

She crossed her arms and smirked at him. “Kiri I can handle being outside for a few minutes. You know I’m not weak even for an omega. I’ll be fine.”

He frowned and sighed, “Okay okay. I’ll be as fast as I can okay. Don’t move from here okay.” He pulled her into a tight hug and kissed her.

She kissed him back, “I’ll be right here waiting for you, my Alpha~”

Kiri beamed and took off for the bakery. He worries too much.

“Well well well, what do we have here? A set of tits and ass on a cute little body.”

She turned to look at the new voice with a scowl on her face. A strange man was walking towards her.

“Oh come on now. That pretty face should be smiling, won’t you smile for me?” he asked, leaning close to her.

“Fuck off,” she growled, “I’m not interested.”

The stranger raised an eyebrow and smirked, “Play hard to get? Now that’s adorable.” He leaned in even closer and sniffed. “An omega? Even better. How about I mark you and show this body a good time? You’re gonna love being my mate and you look like you’d be a great fuck.”

She slapped him hard, “What part of ‘fuck off’ and ‘not interested’ are you not getting you fucking creep?!” she yelled, then started towards the bakery in a huff.

She was suddenly yanked back hard by her arm as the man grabbed her by the arm. “That wasn’t very nice you omega BITCH!”

He pulled her into an alleyway then threw her against the wall making her cry out in pain. She growled and tried to swing at him but he slapped her making her fall again. He then yanked her up by her hair and held her arms in his other hand,

“Now let’s try that again shall we? An omega like you is good for only one thing and that’s to be fucked and bred by an Alpha like me because we can, got it?”

She tried to kick him but missed, making him yank her hair harder.

“Ooh feisty. I like feisty. It’s gonna make me claiming you all the more-” he paused seeing the bite mark on her neck. “Well, it seems someone has already claimed you. No biggie I’ll just overwrite this pathetic claim for a better one.”

She screamed loudly as she struggled, trying to get away. NO! NO! I DON’T WANT ANYONE ELSE! I GOTTA GET AWAY! I GOTTA FIND KIRI! She made another attempt to try and kick her captive’s knees to get away, earning a punch to her side.

“WOULD YOU KEEP STILL ALREADY?!” he yelled.

She let out a pained yelp. “L-let me go,” she said through gritted teeth.

“Not a chance. You’re gonna be my mate. Now hold still,” he said as he pulled her close and leaned in to bite over Kirishima’s mark.

A loud growl suddenly rings around them, making them both tense up and whip around.

“GET YOUR FUCKING HANDS OFF OF HER!”

Kirishima ran and punched the creep then quickly pulled her close to him, growling. His body shaking with rage.

“K-Kiri?”

His eyes are dark, pupils swollen to the point of almost hiding the red of his iris. He grabs her arms tightly, large hands easily holding her in place as he snaps his head down to press into her neck. Right where his mating bite laid on her sweet tasting skin.

His sharp teeth easily sink in, small spurts of blood hitting his tongue and lips and causing a deep growl to erupt from his chest.

“Mine. My Omega. Mine. ” He growls into her flesh, pressing her soft body to his and grabbing at her clothing to pull her closer.

Blood drips heavily from the punctures and his mouth, staining her shirt and skin with the deep crimson. She could almost compare it to the color of his eyes at that moment. Almost as soon as he grabbed her, he spun around to face the dumbass who decided to challenge his claim on her.

His chin and teeth are stained with her blood, running in small drops down to his neck. He wipes it on his shirt, his fingers going to touch a smaller bite on his own throat. His lips curl into a feral grin.

“What you just did? Very stupid. It seems I need to teach you a lesson on what happens when you challenge an Alpha’s claim.”

He activated his quick and she grabbed for his arm while clutching her side. “Kiri it’s okay. I’m fine baby.”

The other guy laughed, “Wow she really is a useless Omega and it seems like an even more worthless Alpha has claimed her. Then again if I bite over your mark she might be able to be worth something after all.”

Kirishima’s body shook with even more rage than before, “What the fuck did you just say?”

“You heard me, you low class Alpha,” the stranger said with a smug expression.

Kirishima gently pushed his omega behind him. “My name is Eijiro Kirishima and after what you did to my mate. I’m going to make sure that every time you hear it you run in fear,” Kiri growled with his body slowly going unbreakable. “Baby, close your eyes and cover your ears. Don’t move until I say so.”

She turned and did what he said, holding her hands tightly to hear ears to muffle the sounds of Kiri and this other alpha fighting. Soon she could hear the sounds of someone running away and an arm wrapping around her shoulder.

“Baby shark? It’s okay now. He’s gone,” Kiri murmurs softly, pressing his forehead to hers.

Her head shot up at the sound of his voice. He still had some lingering blood on his chin from earlier but a few new spots had appeared, from the fight. His eyes are wild and full of rage, his breathing heavy, and he seemed to be looking past her towards where the other alpha had fled.

“Kirishima?” she said, while reaching for his cheek.

The sound of her voice made him snap back for a second. He then scooped her up and took off running for their place. Gotta get her to safety Gotta protect her till it heals. When they finally got home he gently put her down then slammed the door shut and locked it. He turned back to face her and just looked into her eyes.

I left her alone. I put her in danger. I’m such an idiot. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, hanging his head down.

“Kiri?” She tentatively calls, reaching up to touch his face and lets her fingers brush under his eye.

His fingers curl tightly around her wrist, keeping it pressed to his cheek as his eyes snap open. While not as wild as before, she can still see the beast lingering in his gaze and it was staring at her hungrily. His breathing is still heavy and tinted with a growl, nose flaring as he inhales her scent.

Clearing her throat and, with a slight blush, says: “Alpha?”

She didn’t see it coming. One moment they were standing in the entryway of their apartment and the next she is flat on the floor. Kiri dives down and locks their lips together, his teeth scraping against the soft flesh as he slides his tongue along hers. His hands eagerly grab thighs and press them to his waist, rutting his clothed cock against her.

Sweet moans and whines fill his ears, tickling his tongue, as he grinds and humps against her covered slit. The more he moves, the more her dress rides up until it’s pooled around her belly. As Kiri tries to slide a hand under it, the fabric pulls from where it’s stuck under her ass and he growls in frustration.

With a sharp tug, he feels the material give and yanks it away from her body to expose it to his hungry gaze. Her bra is next to be torn and discarded. Her breasts lightly bounce from the movement, teasing him until he dips down to sink his teeth into the soft flesh.

“Omega. Mine. My Omega. ” He growls into her skin, sitting up slightly to stare into her eyes as he rips off her panties. Then, he stops, leaning back more to look over her.

Her hair is like a halo around her head, the setting sun shining in through the window casting beautiful light and shades over her body. The fresh bite marks- his bite marks -on her neck and breast have small, thin streams of blood painting her skin, the taste of it still on his teeth.

Her lips are parted and inhale precious air, her own nose twitching cutely as she takes in his scent. Pupils blown wide, her iris almost completely hidden. A loud, deep purr rumbles in his chest. Yes. This is his omega . His baby shark.

“Alpha?” She whimpers, shifting her hips to try and coax him back into moving.

“Mine. ” Is all he says before shoving down his pants to pull out his swollen cock.

He rubs the tip of it over her slit, crooning when she bucks and tries to shove down onto his dick. He pushes the head in and lets go to push her legs back against her chest, holding behind her knees tightly as he sinks in smoothly. A long, drawn out moan rips from her chest, her head knocking back onto the floor.

“Alpha please- ” She pants, reaching down to press her fingers against his abdomen. The firm muscles flex under her touch. “I need it- more more more please~ ”

“I haven’t even moved yet and you’re already going crazy from my cock.” Kiri chuckles breathlessly, leaning over and pressing more against her. “I wonder what you’ll do when you finally get my knot~”

He can feel her entire body tremble at his words, her cunt clamping down tighter around his dick. He purrs and dips down, licking a stripe over the claiming mark on her neck. He slowly draws his hips back, leaving just the tip inside, before thrusting back just as slowly. Each drag digs into her sweet spot, making her legs spasm.

She quickly reaches up and loops her arms around his neck, nails digging into his back and creating deep red scratches. Kiri groans at the sting, hips moving quicker.

“That’s it, baby shark, scratch me up. I’ve claimed you so much, you should be able to do the same right?” He laughs and nuzzles her jaw. “Make sure they’re nice and pretty for me ok? I want to show them off as much as possible. Make all the others jealous of the fact I’ve got the sweetest little omega~”

A sharp hiss escapes his lips when she pushes her nails in deeper, moaning in approval. He lets one of her legs go and presses his fingers to her stomach, rubbing up and down in time with his thrusts. He can feel a small bump moving underneath them, his cock stretching her so much to create the bulge.

The alpha in him wanted it to be from something else, not just his cock. But that could be discussed later. His omega slowly grows more agitated when she feels the beginning of his knot swelling against her pussy. It briefly catches on the stretched muscles, driving her crazy.

“Alpha please- Knot me, I-I want your knot!” She sobs, looping her free leg behind his back to try and push him in completely. “Knot my pussy and fill me up with your cum until I’m full and dripping~”

His eyes darken at her words and a deep growl erupts from his chest. His sweet omega, saying such things while he is like this… He slows his hips, shushing her while gently thrusting his knot into her hole. He can see her eyes roll into the back of her head, body twitching and trembling while a large wetness splatters along his thighs and cock.

“Did you just cum from my knot entering you, omega?” He asks, voice much deeper and gravely. “Hold on then, baby shark- I’m far from done with you.”

Using the few inches of space between them, he lets loose. The bottom of his knot spreads her cunt and creates loud, wet smacks. Kiri’s fingers dig into her skin, creating more rosepetal bruises on her body. A few more thrusts and he is forced to press fully against her, grinding his hips down as his breathing becomes ragged.

“F-fuck- I’m gonna- gonna fill you up. Just like you wanted. So fucking sweet…” He growls, feeling her pussy spasm around his cock again as she cums for the second time.

He isn’t far behind. Some of his cum leaks out, making him growl and press even tighter against her. It takes a bit before his knot slowly lets her go, and he pulls back to sit on his knees. His gaze travels over her entire, thoroughly fucked, body and purrs happily at the sight she makes with his marks and cum.

But something in him was still growling and pacing. Kiri cups her cheek, catching her gaze and grins when she makes a small chirping noise. As much as he loves her voice, hearing her cute little omega sounds was always welcomed.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, did you baby shark?” He asks, easily lifting her from the floor and into his arms. His feet make gentle sounds against the carpet as he carries her to their room. “I still need to mark you completely- I won’t stop until your entire body is covered in my marks~”

She sinks into the bed, the blankets cocooning her. Kiri lays between her legs and looks over the mess he made. In the small amount of movement she’s done, streaks of cum are painted down the side of her thighs and ass. He croons and lifts her leg over his shoulder, nuzzling and smelling the mix of scents.

His teeth sink repeatedly into the flesh of her thigh, tasting the salt of her sweat and the small drops of cum. No shorts for a while, not with the amount of hickies and teeth punctures in her flesh. He pulls back and vies into her cunt, licking up the mixture of their cum and suckles on her clit.

“Oh fuck, omega, you taste so good with your alpha’s cum inside your pretty pussy.” He moans against her, feeling her hands dig into his hair and pull every time his tongue dips into her slit. “I can’t get enough~”

Her sweet moans blend with the sloppy noises of his mouth attacking her pussy, his own moans and growls rumbling against the sensitive nerves. He sits there for what feels like forever, bringing his omega to the edge countless times until she is limp and only whimpering his name and ‘alpha’. That is when he finally is finished.

He pulls away and licks his lips, his fingers following after he wipes his chin and cheeks. Kiri turns his attention back to his baby shark, tilting his head at her heavily flushed face.

“Omega?” He whispers, slowly crawling over her and nuzzling his nose against hers.

She blinks up at him, before a loopy smile appears on her face and she reaches up to cup his.

“Alpha… love… you…” She whispers, voice hoarse and quiet.

Kirishima smiles and nuzzles into her neck purring, “I love you too, pebble. My baby shark, my omega. My one and only mate.”

He carefully picked her up and held her close to his chest grinning at seeing his marks all over her skin. “You okay baby shark? I didn't hurt ya did I?"

She shakes her head still dazed and reaches for his face, he obliges and moves in to give her many soft kisses. “Let’s get you properly cleaned up and some food in ya.”

After both had bathed they sat on the bed cuddled close as Kirishima ordered some food since they really didn’t have the energy to go out and Kirishima was still on edge from earlier. Just thinking about it made him pull her closer.

“Hey Kiri?” she said softly.

He looked at her, somewhat nervous as to what it was she was gonna say. “Y-yea baby?”

“I don’t feel woozy anymore. I think...I think the changes are done. Isn’t that great?!” she said excitedly.

Kiri paused. “You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you? You saved me from a creep today. What’s there to be mad about?”

“I left you alone and put you in danger! That bastard tried to-”

She crashed her lips on his kissing him deeply before caressing his cheek, “Eijiro Kirishima, you saved your mate from a creepy bastard and you think I’d be mad? I would never be mad at my hero, my alpha who I love so much,” she said nuzzling into his neck. He blushed hard before hugging her tight and giggling. “Kiri! Too tight!”

“Oops sorry pebble. I’m just so relieved that you’re okay and that you’re not mad or scared of me. I would never want anything bad to happen to you by me or anyone else,” he said kissing her forehead.

She smiled and yawned, nuzzling even closer. “Aww my omega is sleepy. Take a nap baby shark and I’ll wake you when the food gets here okay?”

She nodded and mumbled, “I love you Kirishima, my alpha.” before falling asleep in his arms.

“I love you too, my precious, beautiful mate.” He held her close and caressed her sides as she slept so that even in sleep she would know he was there keeping her safe.

#fem reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #mha #my hero academia #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #reader #lemon #writing #bnha a/b/o #alpha kirishima #mha omegaverse

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ptersparkers · 4 years

Text

put your head on my shoulder

summary: jake virtanen’s got his eye on a certain friend of his.

notes: uh, hey! this isn’t meant to be long but i had an idea and needed to get it out of my system. this is an x reader insert but i wanted to try writing from a different perspective and challenge myself. enjoy!!

warnings: mentions of alcohol and general dumbassery from brock <3

masterlist n stuff + add yourself to my taglist

(as a reminder, im NOT writing for outer banks anymore so please don’t add yourself to a specific list. you’re gonna be disappointed lol.)

***

The girl who had Jake’s attention at the beginning of the night was slowly losing her patience when she noticed his eyes wander instead of focusing on her.

Jessica, in her prim little black dress that was short enough for her liking, came to the house party with the intention to have her dress taken off by none other than Jake Virtanen after one of her friends had mentioned how easy it was for her to do it. The girl wrapped her lips around the beer bottle seductively every time she went to take a sip, watching as his Adam’s apple moved with every syllable as he spoke.

She knew the host of the party and knew he was friends with some of the Canucks players, and knew it would be easy to get lost in the crowd of other Vancouver locals and visitors who were there to celebrate a successful week of wins. Jessica was sure to arrive fashionably late with her best friend by her side and paid no attention to the gazes of other men down her body, her own mission to find Jake more prevalent than lustful stares from drunk men.

Jake entertained the girl when she spotted one of their mutual friends, who was standing next to him, and made her presence known when she said hello over the loud music. Their mutual friend adopted her into the conversation and she put herself right next to the player, tucking herself by his side in an attempt to distance herself from the other partygoers beside her. She didn’t think Jake minded after seeing him give her a close-mouthed smile and licked her lips.

If Jessica could remember correctly, her friend had hooked up with Jake a few months back and, to her knowledge, was still single. She tried to remember how her friend had managed to seduce him with a few drinks in both of their systems and little conversation. Jessica was itching to leave the party with Jake’s hand in hers (or find the nearest unoccupied bedroom because she wasn’t picky) but the pleasant conversation between Jake and their mutual friend seemed to keep him preoccupied, leaving Jessica no room to interject.

After a while, their mutual friend excused themselves to say hello to another individual at the party and the group that had gathered to talk began to disperse or left to grab another drink. Jessica considered the best way to seduce Jake without being completely upfront and forward.

But when her eyes looked at his face, she could see his mind was elsewhere.

They continued the conversation from before but she steered the discussion to get to know him; where he was from, what he did in his free time, and how he knew the host of the party, all of which she knew but wanted to hear anyway. Jake spoke to Jessica nonchalantly and seemed to reciprocate the kindness Jessica was showing him. To her, it seemed as if he was genuinely interested in her advances because he didn’t shrug off her hand that she put on his bicep nor flinched when she swatted his chest whenever he made her laugh.

Jake’s eyes began to wander a few minutes into their conversation and she was wondering if he was looking for someone in particular. His tattoos were on full display and all Jessica could think about was his arms wrapped tightly around her, encouraging her to continue the mission she set herself on. She licked her lips more, tried to fix her posture to make herself look more appealing in the moment, and made intense eye contact with the hopes that he’d pick up what she was putting down.

However, her efforts would be unrewarded when he excused himself from their conversation, leaving Jessica standing alone. One of her friends had pulled her into their circle but she watched from her place as Jake traveled to the front of the house and could make out his white shirt until he stopped near the front door. She couldn’t see much past the bodies in front of her but saw a pair of arms—that looked to be from a woman—wrap themselves around his torso for a brief moment before letting him go.

Jessica wondered who the girl was and did her best to listen to her friends speaking but watched from the corner of her eye as Jake arrived with you, a girl she had never met before.

Jake walked behind you as you approached where Jessica was standing and waved hello to the people in the group Jessica was standing with. She looked at Jake and saw that his gaze wasn’t on her anymore but on you as you introduced yourself to those you didn’t know, including Jessica herself.

“God, it’s loud in here, huh?” you said, laughing at your own comment.

“Maybe a little too loud,” one of Jessica’s friends chimed in. “I can feel my ears ringing.”

“I’m Y/N,” you said, giving Jessica a friendly wave.

“Jessica,” she replied with a nod and reciprocated your smile, though not as genuine. “How do you know the host?”

“Work friend! He invites me to these things and I’m not one to go out every weekend but Jake convinced me to go.” Jessica watched as Jake looked down to your smaller figure and grinned.

“Hey, everyone needs a good Friday night,” he said.

“Amen to that!” Jessica’s best friend exclaimed before finishing her drink.

“How do you know Jake?” someone asked. Jessica was relieved that she didn’t ask the question because she felt like she would’ve been invasive if she did.

“We met through Brock and Elias,” Jake explained. “She used to work at this coffee place they go to and I guess they stayed in touch after she left. The rest is history.”

Jessica witnessed Jake put his arm around her shoulder, letting his hand fall and watched as you leaned into his side. She watched as his grin stayed painted on his lips and sighed.

Eventually, the conversation took a turn and the small group that gathered for a while had dispersed throughout the gargantuan house. Jessica followed her friend to the spacious balcony and was pleased when Jake made the executive decision to do the same. But her hopes lessened when she saw Jake lead you to a less crowded part of the balcony.

Jessica watched as he used his right hand to squish your cheeks, laughing at your contorted expression and your pouted lips. She watched as he put his arms on your waist and moved your body to the beat of the song as you spoke. She watched as you took his hands and began examining them as if you’d never seen his body before and witnessed as Jake grinned at the sight of you comparing the size of your hands to his.

She could hear you two speak in the hum of the night despite the volume of the music inside and the chatter of people on the balcony.

“Your hands are so soft,” you commented, toying with his fingers and clasping them with yours. Jake laughed and used this to his advantage, pulling your body flush against his. “You’re so soft.”

“I’m not soft,” Jake mumbled in the crook of your neck, hiding his face from view as you feel his breaths on your neck.

Your hand was still wrapped in his and Jake made no effort to let go. He maneuvered so that your body was in front of his with your back flush against his chest and when he heard you laugh, Jake’s cheeks deepened into a rose blush. His hands clasped around the front of your body and moved the two of you as if a slow along was echoing through the balcony and he watched as you bit your lip. He let his cheek rest against the top of your head, a content smile resting on his lips.

“Are they together?” Jessica asked Brock, who came outside with the girl she came with. The blond looked at her before glancing at where you two stood, grinning knowingly.

“Not yet,” he said.

“Yet?”

Brock looked at Jessica, who he knew in passing and saw only at public events and parties, and shrugged.

“I don’t really know how to explain it,” he explained. “They’ve been friends for a while but he’s very gentle with her.”

“So they’re dating, then?” she asked.

“Like I said, not yet.” Brock smiled politely and left her standing on the ledge in favor of speaking with another friend.

Jessica watched as Jake spun you around to face him once more and used his hands to cup your face, his thumbs stroking your cheeks as your eyes fluttered close in pure delight. He murmured what Jessica could make out as “I want to kiss you” and watched as Jake waited for your consent before keeping his hands steady and pressing his lips to yours.

Jessica couldn’t watch anymore without feeling invasive so she left the balcony to find another drink.

“You. Are. So. Cute,” Jake said in between kisses while squishing your cheeks between his palms. He laughed as he watched your eyes widened in surprise at his actions before removing his hands to slip by your waist once more, pulling you closer to him.

“We aren’t just friends, are we?” you asked him as you put your hands on his chest, toying with the chain around his neck.

“You’ve always been my girl,” he confessed. “I haven’t thought about being with another girl for a few months now but I think I’ve felt this way ever since you chewed Brock out for standing on a swivel chair.”

You laughed at the memory and tugged on his chain mindlessly and Jake watched as your fingers wrapped themselves around the gold material and dug his fingers into your hips. You squealed and Jake laughed at your reaction.

“Come home with me,” you mumbled before widening your eyes. “I mean, not like that. I just want to go home and watch a movie.”

“Mm,” he replied, dipping his head to pepper kisses along your jawline. “That sounds nice. Stop to buy snacks on the way home?”

“You are the perfect person.”

Jake laughed and pulled away, holding your hand in his as he made his rounds. The both of you said goodbye to mutual friends and both Brock and Elias gave you two thumbs up.

His hand was on your thigh on the drive home and he kissed the back of your hand when your eyes were fluttering shut.

“Don’t sleep on me yet, pretty girl,” he said gently, squeezing your thigh. “You can sleep when we get home.”

True to his word, Jake let you sleep, wrapped up in a blanket with your head on his chest.

+++

taglist:

@thedemonsimpofcamphalfblood @kerwritesthings @oc3an-vib3s @kaitieskidmore1 @becihadshawn @storiesbymads.

#jake virtanen imagine #jake virtanen #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl writing #jake virtanen x reader #vancouver canucks #put your head on my shoulder #i do not know how to tag this so here #my writing

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harryspet · 4 years

Text

plaything | sebastian stan

[Warnings] dark sebastian stan x reader, dark chris evans x reader, lots of dub con bordering on non con, spanking (aftercare?), dub con sex/oral sex, humiliation, seb wants you to call him daddy, impregnation, over/stimulation, abusive relationship, seb domesticating reader, manipulation, seb being a jerk and chris being creepy

A/N: This is for @sherrybaby14 ‘s Prompt Challenge! If you’re not already following her, please do! The original prompt was “ Bucky fic where the relationship is already well known to be dark. Maybe he views her as a plaything and likes to do things that set her up for failure so that he can punish her. Maybe some gas/lighting too”. I’ve been watching a lot of Sebastian interviews lately so this fic was inspired by that. I know both Sebastian and Chris a super nice guys in real life but I had a lot of fun imagining them as bad guys!

In which you can’t seem to escape Sebastian’s punishments.

Please like, reblog and let me know what you think!

word count: 3.1k

You watched Sebastian on the TV in your kitchen, licking a spoon covered in fudge batter. He was being interviewed by Jimmy Kimmel and he was as captivating as ever. You chuckled a bit as he made a joke and the crowd erupted in laughter.

“Y/N, it’s not lady-like to lick the spoon,” Delilah, Sebastian’s chef, said to you. You were in the middle of yet another cooking lesson. You just could never get your food tasting the way Seb liked, “At this rate, I don’t think I’ll be getting fired anytime soon.”

The dessert was in the oven and now the older woman was placing the finishing garnishes on their steak, “He likes his steak medium-well, remember that,” Delilah went on but you couldn’t concentrate.

You know you should’ve paid attention but you knew deep down you’d never be a good cook. At least, not in the way Seb wanted you to be, “You don’t think he’ll notice it’s microwaved?” You asked Delilah who had previously agreed to your scamming. You’d pretend that you made what she had.

“He shouldn’t notice because my food is delicious either way. But, it may taste a little different and you can blame that on the fact that you made it,” You nodded nervously.

“Thank you, Delilah,” The older woman only smiled as she began to gather her things. Everything was laid out and now you could put everything in Tupperware and microwave it tomorrow before Seb arrived.

You put your oven mitts on and walked over to the oven. You lifted the pan of brownies out of the oven and set it on the stove. The interview on the TV was ending now and you watched as Jimmy told the audience the opening date for Seb’s new movie.

Seb hadn’t been back to your million dollar apartment in two weeks because he was doing press all day and night.

You almost didn’t hear Delilah say from the foyer, “Mr. Stan, you’re home early,” Your heart dropped.

“Delilah,” You were sure they were hugging now, “I thought I wouldn’t be seeing you for a while. You look as beautiful as ever.”

You quickly put away all the spices and cutting boards, just throwing them in a random cabinet. And then the plates of food … you stacked them and threw them into the garbage can. You panicked, he couldn’t know that Delilah had made the food after you promised you’d do better.

“Well … I- oh look, my husband is calling me,” Delilah rushed out, “Have a good evening, Mr. Stan!”

When Sebastian entered the kitchen, you were smiling wide, a dash of flour on your cheek and apron that you had just put there, “I thought you were going to be in L.A. for the rest of the night,” You said to him, kissing his cheek as he approached you. He didn’t return the affection, his eyes tired from his flight. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and a pair of grey sweatpants, “I just watched you on TV … you did great.”

“I finished up earlier than I thought. I wanted to see you,” He looked down at you, his eyes burning holes into you. He knew something was up.

“You look exhausted but I know what will wake you up. Your favorite midnight brownies! Because, you know, we usually eat them at midnight-” He took one look at the brownies and turned back to you.

“Why was Delilah here?” He interrupted, reaching a hand to wipe away the flour on your cheek.

Your smile fell, “S-She came to give me the recipe for the brownies,” He didn’t believe it and you bit down nervously on your bottom lip nervously, “I asked Delilah to make dinner and I was gonna pretend that I had made it myself.”

Seb sighed, a smirk tugging at his lips, “And where’s dinner now?”

You pointed towards the trash can, “And you wasted the food too?”

“I panicked,” You tried to explain yourself, “But I’m gonna make dinner for real tomorrow. I watched Delilah do everything so-”

You yelped as he suddenly grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to him. His breath fanned over your face and then he leaned down to your ear, “You haven’t cleaned either, there’s dust on the painting in the foyer.”

“I-I was going to do it tomorrow before you got home,” You whispered, your heart pounding.

“Do I ask for too much, Y/N? I’m not sure why you like frustrating me.”

“I-I don’t like frustrating you, Seb.”

“You do,” He insisted, “Why else would you throw schemes like this together?”

“I-” He shushed you and you swallowed your words. The look in his eyes was crazy and you weren’t sure what kind of beast you had awoken this time. You tried to remember a time when things weren’t like this. When he chased you and you thought you might be more than his plaything.

You met Sebastian at one of his interviews. Of course, you didn’t expect him to spare you a second glance because he was the celebrity and you were the girl running to get everyone's coffee. You were practically an assistant to the assistants. You only did the job because it paid slightly more than minimum wage and you were late on your rent.

You carried three different trays of coffee into the dressing room. It was a smaller production company then he was probably used to. There were at least three other Avengers in the room getting their makeup touched up. You handed the coffees to each of their assistants and then to your boss.

You would’ve walked away but you saw him take a sip, his eyes still narrowed on you, “This is four sugars …”

“Yes,” You said quickly, looking over the receipt. Your face visibly fell as you read it, “Well, it’s three but I can find you some sugar, sir. It’ll only take a moment.”

“You can’t seem to get anything right on the first try, can you? I order this drink a million times a week. The other coffee girls can get it right. Why can’t you?”

You took a deep breath, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

“You’re right because you’re-” You closed your eyes and waited for him to say you were fired. A tall figure emerged behind you and you slowly opened your eyes.

“I’m sure one sugar isn’t the end of the world, sir,” Seb had said, a hand pressed to your lower back, “If you’re going to treat your staff so poorly, in front of everyone I have to had, then maybe Marvel shouldn’t be giving you their business.”

Your boss was practically jumping out of his skin, “I-I apologize, Mr. Stan,”

As your boss scurried off like a mouse, he stepped in front of you, “I’m Sebastian.”

“I work such long hours, I have to fly around the world, but I take care of you, don’t I?” You nodded vigorously, “I just … don’t like to be lied to. You know what this means, don’t you, pet?”

Pet.

He loved to call you that when his temper got the best of him. Yes, of course, you knew, “Sebastian, not tonight, please-”

He forced you to look into his eyes, “But I know you like it, Y/N,” With his other hand he gripped your waist, pulling up your skirt. You never seemed to avoid it. There was always something you did wrong that led to this.

He pressed his lips to yours and you were surprised how gentle he was. Your lips moved in sync with each other as he pressed you against the kitchen island. He was untying your apron and it fell to the ground. Then he was reaching into your panties, easily finding how wet you were, “That’s my girl,” He smirked against your lips, starting to rub circles over your sensitive bulb.

You ground against his fingers, wanting more friction between you. He kissed the side of your mouth, then your chin and down to your neck, “Ah,” you moaned as he played you like a piano, a song that he had spent the last year memorizing, “Seb, Seb …”

“Call me Daddy,” He demanded and you moaned as you neared your climax.

“Oh my god, Daddy,” You were about to tilt your head back when he suddenly removed his fingers. Not in a teasing way and your eyes widened you realized he wasn’t in a playing mood. He grabbed your hips roughly and turned you around. He pressed on your back until your chest was against the marble, “Only good girls get to cum, Y/N,” You felt him walk away and you didn’t dare look back at him, You heard a drawer open and slam shut.

He lifted your skirt and as he pulled down your underwear, you closed your eyes shut. The impact didn’t come as you expected. You thought it stung much more than when he used his hand. You whimpered, your hands balled into a fist, “You remember what to say, don’t you, pet? I’m giving you twenty and I’m sure you don’t want any extra.”

“Thank you, Daddy!”

He’d rub a circle and then hit your bottom with the wooden spoon again. You thanked him for each one. As the spanks increased, you squirmed around and Sebastian decided to pin your arms behind your back to hold you in place.

When he was done, tears were streaming down your face, “Good girl, Y/N. Very good,” Sebastian let go of your wrist, gently helping you up before lifting you into his arms. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he carried you out of the kitchen.

You cried as he set you on the bed you shared and as he rubbed aloe vera over your bruises. Sebastian held you, placing a kiss on your forehead, as you cried yourself to sleep.

You thought your punishment was over but as you exited the shower the next morning, you found a surprise waiting for you on the bed. A “surprise” was probably the wrong word to use. You picked up the pair of black stilettos and set them by your feet before picking up the note.

Wear this. No panties. Finish cleaning the house and then come meet me in my office. My bookshelves need dusting. - Your one and only love, Sebastian

You balled up the note, tossing it to the side, as you took a deep breath. You decided that he wasn’t going to break you down this time. You dressed in the black, satin, mini dress and your mouth dropped open as you realized it ended an inch after your bottom. The top was basically a corset that pushes your chest up and the clear straps that held them up were flimsy. A matching white apron accompanied everything but even that seemed to be mini-sized. You could barely get on the heels without your whole bottom showing.

You gritted your teeth, pacing the room, as you tried to get used to the heels. You reminded yourself again that you’d do this with a smile on your face. You pulled your hair back with a tie and left the master bedroom.

You cleaned almost the entire house with those heels on. Your feet ached and every random draft of wind sent you shivering. If you moved in a certain way, you could feel the satin rubbing against the bruises on your bottom, a reminder of the punishment you suffered the day before.

You wiped a drop of sweat from your forehead as you finished wiping down the kitchen counters. After you carried the duster to Seb’s office and as you knocked you heard, “Come in, pet,” And you spotted Seb leaning against the front of his desk.

His eyes were dark and as you met Captain America’s blue-green eyes, your heart dropped to your stomach, “Seb-”

“You know Chris, right, Y/N? You met at that wedding a few months ago?” Sebastian asked, gesturing over the muscular man perched on Seb’s leather couch.

You remained silent, not wanting to meet the other man’s eyes. You shifted uncomfortably in your dress, pulling at the sides, “Y/N looked very different then … but I have to say that I prefer this look much more,” You could feel his eyes taking in your body.

You had promised yourself you’d get through this unscathed but you hadn’t planned for this. You wanted to die of embarrassment and it was only as Seb said, “Don’t mind us, pet. We’re just talking business. You have a job to do.”

Your mouth was dry and you felt frozen, “Sebastian, please-”

You cut yourself off because the glare he gave you was deadly. It took you a moment to get the courage to take a step. Your heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you paced over the tall bookshelves that were placed opposite the couch Chris Evans was sitting on.

You began to dust his collection of books and you cursed the fact that man loved reading about space so much.

Both of their eyes were raked in your body. They muttered a few sentences talking about some director but you knew they were just trying to fill the air. Their focus was you and only you.

You reached the lower levels but as you had to reach the top one, your dress rode up. You quickly pulled it down but it happened a few more times, “I don’t think you’ll do a very good job if you’re pulling at your dress the whole time, pet,” You almost shot an accusing glance towards him.

Instead, you stopped holding onto your dress before politely saying, “I don’t think I’m tall enough to reach the top shelves,” You spoke through gritted teeth.

Seb glared at you sharply but Chris only smirked, “You might’ve hit the lottery with this one, Stan.”

In any other context, you might’ve appreciated the compliment.

“The coffee table is a little dusty too,” Sebastian lied and you tried to scowl. You walked over to the coffee table, bending down to dust the table. You were close to Chris now and you saw him lean forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“Look at me, Y/N,” Chris had told you and you did, keeping eye contact as you dusted all the knick-knacks that Seb kept on the coffee table. Yours were on him but he was trailing down to your chest. You guessed he had seen enough of your bottom while you were dusting.

You stood up straight then looked at Seb, “Did he tell you to stop looking at him?” And you winced as you turned your head back to Chris.

Seb moved behind you but you couldn’t take your eyes off of Chris. Seb pressed himself against your back, lifted up the skirt of your mini dress. He roughly stuck his fingers between your fold and his fingers were wet as he pulled them away. How? How could that happen when you felt sick with embarrassment.

Your face was probably bright red by that point, “And I thought you couldn’t upset me further. Now you’re getting turned on by another man. Right in front of me, I should add.”

“S-Seb I-I-” He grabbed you by the front of your neck, pulling you further into him, “I-I’m not, I promise!”

“Don’t lie to me, Y/N. You love the attention. Does Daddy not give you enough?” He spoke huskily into your ear, “Now you have to show Daddy’s friend who you belong to. Bend over, hands on the table.”

As you bent over, you couldn’t help but wonder how things had become so drastically different. You placed your hands flat on the table and it wasn’t long before you heard Sebastian’s belt come off. You thought he might spank you at first but you felt the hard tip of his length press against your entrance.

He grabbed your hair, forcing you to tilt your head up and look at Chris. He was leaning back now, his hand over his crotch. You could see the hard on beginning to form underneath his jeans, “Only Daddy gets this hole, understand?” And before you could answer, he entered you all the way.

You gasped, unable to find the words as you screamed out. “Right, pet?” He slammed into you deeply.

You nodded, “Y-Yes, Daddy. Only you.” Seb pounded into you, animalistic growls in his throat as you squeezed around him.

Soon, you had both fallen to your knees but he only went harder, “Seb, Seb!” You moaned his name, already nearing your climax. The angle you were at let him hit your most sensitive area with every thrust. And as he bent over your body, his fingers rubbing your sensitive bulb, it wasn’t long before that wave of pleasure ripped through you.

Your body shook and you tried to run away from the full force of it, Sebastian pulled you back onto him. He wasn’t done yet. Chris had pulled his hard member from his jeans and was stroking it as he watched you react to the over/stimulation. Seb had even pulled down your dress so your breasts were fully out.

Seb didn’t let up on stroking you and, as your second climax came, you thought you might fall apart. “You like it when he watches, don’t you?” Seb groaned in your ear, “You want him to see me put a baby in you.” Seb’s stroke slowed but they were still deep as his song neared its crescendo.

Seb knew that you were in the middle of switching your birth control methods.

“Beg me to put a baby into you,” He said, pulling your hair tighter.

“Ah,” you moaned, “Please give me a baby, Daddy! Please!”

With that, Seb’s hips tightened as he released into you. You felt the warmth deep inside you and you were still shaking as he pulled out, “Good girl,” He said, out of breath.

You looked at Chris who was thrusting into his own hand. Seb smacked your bottom loudly, “Finish him off, Y/N,” You turned to Seb with wide eyes. As if he hadn’t humiliated you enough. He hit your bottom again, “Now.”

You hesitated before crawling around the table. You felt your own fluids and Seb’s running down your leg. You perched yourself between the older man’s legs and he responded by grabbing your face, pulling you up to his member.

You closed your eyes as you took him into your mouth. Chris groaned, leaning back as you took him in deeper. You remembered how Seb liked it. Whatever your mouth couldn’t cover, you used hand, twisting around his length, “That’s it, such a good girl,” You gagged as you took him in further. Sebastian loved when you gagged and now you knew Chris did too. As Chris finished, he forced your head down, and you thought you might run out of air as he released into your throat.

You fell back, gasping after you were forced to swallow it all, “I think I’m going to come to New York more often,” Chris gave you a tired smile.

You looked to Sebastian who was already up, buttoning his slacks, “Straighten yourself up, Y/N, don’t be rude to our guest.”

Hope you enjoyed! Check out my dark peter parker fics and my new Bucky fic called Obedience!

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #dark bucky barnes #bucky barnes #steve rogers x reader #marvel #mcu #mcu fanfiction #dark marvel #dark!bucky #dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark fic #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark sebastian stan x reader #mcu smut #marvel smut

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alexaplaysgames · 4 years

Text

Have Mercy on Me

Pairing: Felix Escellun x GN!MC

Fandom: Fictif (Last Legacy)

Rating: M (swearing, mild sexual content)

Words: ~ 1500

Description: Felix and his barista are a bit less than careful when it comes to concealing their midnight make out sess.

Notes: So Sage suspects that Felix and MC are a thing, but he doesn’t know that they are. Or he didn’t prior to this fic. The last of my Felix writing spree! I’m moving on to some Asra next.

Tags: @margitartist @demon-paradise @themohawkhelmet @cactus-hoodie @aomiyeon @piningmaybeanartist @another-confused-gay

When I imagined travelling with the legendary Starsworn, sitting in the parlour of a run-down inn and getting wasted wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.

Sage grabs a bottle from the table at his feet and takes a hearty swig.

“Even this is failing to entertain me now,” he says, cracking his back as he stands, “I’m going to go pass out.”

“Will you kill me if I call it a cat nap?” I singsong.

Safe glares at me in reply, ears pinned flat against his head. “Do you want to find out?”

I opt to stay quiet as he turns towards the stairs that lead to our rented rooms.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night as well,” Anisa hums, her green eyes glittering in the firelight. “Goodnight, you two!”

Felix and I sit silently as the sound of creaking wood accompanying footsteps retreats up the stairs.

As soon as the parlour is silent, he turns to me, smirking.

“Ah, to be free of Sage’s incessant pestering.”

I too am rather glad to be alone with him. With all that’s gone on lately, I’ve barely had Felix to myself at all these last few days.

The cracking of the fire is soothing, the silence between us strangely comfortable. It’s rather odd, considering Felix isn’t one for quiet contemplation, and it’s very rare that any situation he’s involved in remains free of awkwardness.

I’m distracted from my thoughts as Felix glances down at our hands, still close together being that we have yet to seperate from our previously crowded position on the sofa.

Once again, I feel myself wishing that he would just ask for things when he wanted them, like he so obviously wants to hold my hand now. Am I doing something wrong? Is this some consequence of his relationship with Rime? I know almost nothing about that, I don’t really want to, but if that deer-man did anything to hurt Felix, I guarantee I’ll snap his antlers like Pixy Stix.

Then again, perhaps some of the hurting was consensual. He did have some choice comments about their sexual relationship that I’ve really been trying to forget. Yikes. I can’t imagine the Felix I know in a relationship anything like that.

He’s too precious... too soft. I feel like getting rough with him would break him, shattering his beauty to shards, like stained glass.

But I wouldn’t mind if he were a bit more forward with me.

“Do you want to hold my hand, Felix?”

He starts, then blushes as he meets my gaze. Felix nods, his expression turning resolute as he slowly reaches for my hand, then intertwines my fingers with his.

I reach to delicately tilt his chin up with the index finger of my free hand.

“I do like you, you know,” I tease, but the words still carry meaning. “You don’t have to be so hesitant.”

“O-okay. I know that, I do. It’s just... difficult,” he scoffs, a frustrated sound deep in his throat. His voice goes soft as he continues, “I haven’t- I haven’t done this since...”

“I know.” He doesn’t need to say Rime’s name for me to know who this is about.

I smile, sultry turning soft, then focus my attention back on the fireplace as Felix lays his head on my shoulder with a soft sigh. Progress. His hair tickles my chin, but I don’t really mind. He smells... nice. Like... well, he actually kind of smells like sage. Sage the plant, not the person. Felix would certainly take offence to the latter. I snicker under my breath just thinking of his reaction if I told him so.

I suddenly shiver as Felix turns his face into my neck, trying to stay still. He’s not a huge fan of casual physical contact, and I don’t want to scare him away. He’s kinda like a pet, a cat, in that any time he gets close I stay shock still in hopes that he won’t run off. He’s like a cat in many ways, actually. Grumpy, recluse, adorable. Another description he would despise, knowing his hatred for Stella. I purse my lips to keep from giggling. Man, if only everyone knew how hilarious I really am.

“You realize,” Felix hums, the vibrations creating goosebumps across my skin. “We are completely alone.”

My amusement fades in an instant, my features stretching into a seductive grin.

“Oh? And what, Felix, oh dignified and talented mage, are you suggesting?”

I can almost feel his face heat from where it’s pressed against the soft skin of my neck.

He sighs, then mumbles, “I beg you not to tease me so. We can’t all be as lascivious as Sage, my dear.”

“Felix,” I tease, despite his request, “are you asking for a kiss?”

He pulls away, face flushed red, biting his lip as he refuses to meet my gaze.

“No.” The answer is obviously yes, and although his pout is adorable, he sounds like a stubborn, petulant child.

I place my hands on both of his cheeks, forcing him to meet my gaze.

“Good. Because you don’t need to ask. If you want to kiss me Felix, go ahead.”

It’s a bold challenge. Never does Felix initiate such things, but I want him to. I want him to want to.

He blinks. Then, slowly, tentatively, he shifts closer to me, the sofa creaks beneath him, and I feel the cushions sink as he leans towards me. His breath fans across my face as he gets impossible closer, his eyelashes fluttering against my cheeks.

It’s in moments like these that it truly hits me: how incredibly intoxicating Felix is. I don’t think I could refuse him if I wanted to; my heart yearns to be swept up in the vortex of his stormy eyes, to drown in a sea as black as his fingernails or as red as his bitten lips.

I can just barely feel the brush of his lips against mine, leaving my breath stuttering in my throat. It’s nice- the closeness, the stillness. Intimate even, with our foreheads pressed together and our mouths just barely touching. I could stay like this with him forever.

Then our lips slide together in a familiar, passionate dance, slow and sensual and utterly delicious. I instinctively move my hands to tangle in his hair, pulling just the way I know he likes, while Felix surprises me by moving one hand to cup my face, the other to skim my thigh, and kissing me back hard, hard enough to make me feel like the breath that fills his lungs, and I struggle to refrain from smiling against the softness of his lips.

I pull away, trying not to notice his bereft, breathy little exhale, just long enough to quirk a brow before I place my hands on his chest and push him back into the sofa, chuckling at the noise of shock that he makes.

And while I love to have him near me, holding me, this is where I like Felix best. Pinned under me as I straddle his waist, wide, silvery eyes reflecting the dying firelight.

I lean over him, tantalizing, teasing, trace a path with my tongue from his collarbone to the shell of his ear, then finish by biting down on his earlobe, rolling the stud he wears in his ear with the tip of my tongue.

Felix gasps, hips involuntarily pressing upwards and against mine, a breathy whine building in his throat. I catch his wrists and pin them above his head, leaning back to admire the mess I’ve made of him.

“So pretty,” I murmur, twirling a strand of his hair with my free hand.

“You are quite,” his voice shakes with his ragged exhale, “resplendent yourself.”

I snort, hum, then lean forward to capture his mouth in a sinful, open-mouth kiss, grinding against him once more in a way that has us both panting into each other’s mouths. I’m not sure how long we stay tangled up like that, rocking together, never parting for longer than it takes to catch a breath.

His skin is surprisingly warm to the touch when my fingers flit under the fabric of his shirt, dipping over the soft give of his stomach, a gentle, exploratory touch I can feel mirrored by Felix’s hands on the bare skin of my arms.

I’m just about to suggest we take this somewhere more private when I’m interrupted by a choking noise. A sound not unlike that of a cat, yakking on a hairball.

Felix and I hastily spring apart, and my gaze is immediately drawn to a tall, white-haired figure standing at the base of the stairs.

“Holy fuck.” Sage whispers, his expression a mix of amusement, awe, and confusion. His eyes dart between the look of sheer mortification that paints my features and Felix’s disheveled appearance and half-open shirt.

Shit.

Felix flops back down, burying his burning red face in a pillow.

“Not now, Sage.”

Sage only smirks. “Interrupted something, did I? By all means, don’t stop on my accord. I’m all for watching, or joining. If you’re into that sorta thing.”

I can only manage to stare, slack-jawed. Is he really suggesting...?

“So,” Sage clears his throat, causing Felix to groan at the realization that he has not yet left. “You two really are-“

I nod.

“No,” he grimaces.

“Yes,” I deadpan.

“No,” he repeats, louder, frantic. “I cannot live in a world in which Felix has game. First Rime, now you? Are you sure you’re the one who got teleported to another dimension?”

“That’s not exactly what-“ Felix finally huffs as he raises his head, glaring.

“Whatever, man. This is some fucked up shit. Majorly fucked up, that’s what I say.” Sage crosses the room, retrieving a dagger from the nearby armchair and twirling it dangerously in his leather-clad grip (I assume this is the reason he came back into the parlour at all).

He makes to move up the stairs, but pauses, throwing me a grin over his shoulder, accompanied by a waggle of his eyebrows.

“But if you ever wanna get a taste of the wild side...”

“Sage!” Felix exclaims, eyes flashing a dangerous green, but the former only snickers.

“Goodnight, horny children. Try to keep the noise level to a minimum, if ya know what I mean.”

I have to slap my hand over Felix’s mouth to stifle his angry retort.

This is going to be a long few days.

#Felix Escellun #Felix Iskandar Escellun #Felix x mc #interactive game #interactive fiction #visual novel #Last Legacy Fanfiction #Fictif #Fictif Last Legacy #Last Legacy #last legacy Felix

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itgetsdarksometimes35 · 4 years

Text

When Two Lonely Hearts Come Together

Warnings: Non con, dub con, witchcraft, demons

Prompt: I am so glad I swallowed before you said that

Word Count:

Pairings: Dark!Demon!Winter soldier x Witch!reader

Summary: Witch reader decides o summon a demon to keep her company

~ indicates a time change

A/N: Wow it’s been a while. I’ll spare you the nitty gritty of finals and work and just say this was a challenge for @what-just-happened-bro ‘s challenge in July. Oops. Anyway enjoy! More coming soon ;)

XXX

The Winter Soldier. AKA, the demon of obsession. Every witch you knew avoided contacting his spirit, in fear of the power he possessed. Though nobody was completely sure, his powers could be positive. The risk, however, of him being a negative spirit was enough to deter anyone from trying.

You had agreed with them at a time, but now as your town that housed all the witches of the land burned down as you ran for safety into the woods, you realized you were completely alone. At first, you got by with no contact with others, but alienation isn’t healthy for anyone. Not even a witch.

You were a part of a community that was killed within the span of just a weekend after a local town pledged everyone you knew. You had barely escaped, using your mother's spirit’s warning as a sign to run before the fires even started. You looked back with horror. Witches could do evil, but more often than not they didn’t. Choosing a life of quiet rather than to stir a pot that couldn’t be undone.

As you sat in the middle of the forest, the home to you for the past 2 years because of the freedom to move as your fear of staying anywhere too long progressed, laying out all the equipment you needed. Most of what you owned burned, but you saved what you could while remaking other necessities. Everything was ready for the séance, you just needed your blood.

The blood would be a guide for what the Winter Soldier was to cling to. You. You needed a companion, one who would be obsessed with you. The desperation you had sunk to was enough to have your dead friends and mother clawing at your soul, warning you not to do this. You blocked them all out, knowing the only way to stop the pain you felt would be to play a game with the devil for one of his children. A risk that could cost you your soul to be trapped in an endless Hell.

The knife sliced through your hand and you held it over the star that you made in the dirt and out of rocks. You chanted the words you had memorized at the young age of 10, and as you did you felt the wind tousle your hair. Your eyes instinctively rolled to the back of your head as the words dripped from your lips like poison. In the wind, you could hear the sounds of tortured souls screaming for mercy as the gates of Hell opened to release one of their most prized possessions.

Then, silence. The only thing you could hear was your heavy breaths, and you could feel the sun lowering to make way for the night. You slowly opened your eyes to see the star in the dirt spewed and your rocks clear of any blood you had just painted them with.

He’s here.

Your eyes searched the tall trees until your eyes landed on a man in black. He wore a mask that covered his face and his arm shined in the little light the sky was blessing you with.

You slowly stood up, grabbing the cup filled with herbs and other things to help the demon adjust to the world, while he followed your body’s every movement. You stalked closer to him, wary of his intentions, while showing your hands as a gesture you meant no harm. Who conjures a demon to fight them?

“Winter Soldier. I say your name therefore you hold no power over me. I’ve asked upon your spirit of obsession to accompany me in life.” You told the demon your name and stopped a few feet in front of him. He looked so alive; his eyes looked like you could drown in them. You handed him the cup and watched as he removed his mask to drink it. He grunted in pain before throwing the cup away.

“The fuck is in that?” The words came out rough, his throat sounded unused.

You hesitated a moment. “Herbs.”

“And?” He could tell you were holding out.

“Crushed beetles.”

The soldier seemed to chuckle. “I am so glad I swallowed before you said that.” You laughed nervously with him, and a quiet beat followed.

“You’re lonely.”

“Yes.” It wasn’t a question, more a statement, but you still answered it like it was. He still doesn’t move, and you felt so awkward. Now what?

You cleared your throat. “Well, uh, are you going to come from behind the tree?” You tried to smile, make this less excruciating. For once the silence you had lived in all your life was no longer acceptable to you.

“I haven’t seen anyone else since the year 934.” The soldier ignored you as he stayed perched behind the tree. His body was huge, not even the tall pine could hide him from you, though.

“Oh.” He didn’t need to explain the story to you, you knew it well. The Winter Soldier was released by a witch to reign destruction on the village. He killed millions in just one day. The witch was burned and the Winter Soldier’s story was passed down from generation to generation of witches. Some say the witch meant harm, others say it was the demon who decided how those people met their end. That’s why a mystery was connected with him for so long.

“What do you want?”

You looked to the demon, finding an uneasy comfort in his eyes. “Everyone I have ever known is dead. I have no one left, they are just white lights and voices that dance around my dreams, gone as soon as I open my eyes.”

The soldier stared at you a bit, considering you, before moving to stand fully in front of you. “So you want me to bring them back?”

“No, their spirits are at peace. All I want is someone to be with me until I can meet them in the afterlife. Your obsession can be me, I just want your company.”

The soldier had never heard anything like this before. Everyone contacted demons so they could do something for them. Who contacts one for a friendship? Something snapped inside him in that moment. He finally felt a calmness at the realization, and he smiled devilishly at the woman.

You raised an eyebrow in confusion before he grabbed her by the forearm with his metal arm, burning her skin. You howled in pain, the sound of sizzles and pops filled your ears. Smoke rose from your arm. The demon finally let go, leaving a mark permanently on your skin.

“What the fuck was that for?” Demons couldn’t touch humans and vise versa. Not unless you wanted to feel like you’re sitting in Hell.

“You’re mine now.”

You looked at him confused before taking a better look at your arm. There you saw the mark of the Winter Soldier.

“No, I own you. Like a genie in a lamp, I let you go so you do my bidding now.”

The demon laughed again. “Do you know who you contacted?”

Oh no. Had you messed up? “You’re not the Winter Soldier?”

Again, the demon let out a hearty laugh. “The Winter Soldier replaced the devil a long time ago, darling. I run the show now. And I make the rules.”

Your eyes got big. How could this be? No demon is so powerful that they could overthrow their leader. It’s unnatural, it’d be like God being overthrown.

“N-no, it’s not possible. I banish you back to Hell Winter Soldier.”

“That won’t work on me.”

You tried again. “Go back to the fiery pits from which you came from, leave this earth and all its inhabitants behind. I say your name, Winter Soldier, with power over you as I exile you back to Hell!”

You continued to chant as the wind picked up again, the pits of Hell opening to welcome back their ruler. Only, he isn’t going back. He just stood there, smiling at you.

“Are you done?”

You shook your head. How is this possible? Before you could pick up the fruitless chants again, the soldier grabs you by the arms and drags you down to Hell with him. You watch in horror as the portal to your world closes before your eyes.

Turns out, the Winter Soldier was right. He ran the underworld. Demons and their victims fell to their knees as he walked by them, bowing to their lord.

You saw fire and destruction, pain painted everywhere. They all cried for the mercy of death, but it fell to deaf ears as their tormentors continued their hatred.

You didn’t burn, you didn’t even feel hot, as you trailed behind the Devil as he pranced around his kingdom. His home was likable to the place a royal family would stay. A huge red castle with black accents here and there. Inside held the same colors. It smelled of ash, yet, it didn’t bother you a bit.

The Winter Soldier led you into a room with two thrones. A man stood near the thrones, metal cuffs around his bleeding ankles. Your eyes widened at him. He had dusty brown curly hair and beautiful brown eyes. He was gorgeous, what did he do to get caught up in a place like this?

“Lucifer.” The soldier nodded to the man and he quickly set his sad eyes down to the floor. Lucifer? As in? “I hope you can help my guest feel welcome, she’s come a long way.” He smiled at you, but you just glared back. The ex devil just nodded his head at his new master.

You were beckoned to sit on the smaller chair next to the bigger one where your captor sat. He turned to you after telling Lucifer to get him and his friend some food.

“What do you think?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, do you like it? I designed it all myself, it wasn’t easy you know.” He smiled at you, showing you sincere adoration. You could’ve puked.

“It’s Hell.” His face dropped.

“Obviously, but I think I’ve made it work quite nicely. You’ll get used to it?”

“What? No, you’re going to send me back to earth!”

“How could you be my queen on earth, silly?”

Queen?

“What? No, I can’t be your queen! I can’t stay here forever, I have to die on earth so my spirit can move on in the afterlife. So I can see my friends and family again.”

The soldier shrugged. “They can visit.”

You could’ve shouted. “No, they can’t! I’m- I- This isn’t why I summoned you.”

“Isn’t it though? You needed a companion, I needed a companion. It seems everyone is happy here.”

Lucifer returned with a tray of fruit and the soldier started eating the grapes. “Ugh, I’ve never been able to get used to mortal food. It’s all yours, my love.”

You pushed the tray from you as he tried to hand it to you. “I should’ve never called to you. I should’ve listened to what everyone said, your powers are used for evil. Not good.”

The Winter Soldier rolled his eyes. “Is that what everyone says about me? Because of what happened with that witch, huh? Well, let me tell you what happened. The bitch wanted to take over not only our realm but hers as well. I agreed to help her, but when I killed everyone to turn into demons she no longer wanted to comply. She sent me back to Hell, and that was the day I vowed to never be turned down again. She was the woman who was supposed to be my wife. My first love, and she slandered my name. Well, that’s why the cunt lives here forever, wishing she would’ve never double crossed me. After that, I started my plans to overthrow old Lucifer here so I could make the rules. I come and go as I please, wherever, whenever.” He looked accomplished with himself.

“Except Heaven.”

The soldier laughed so loud it boomed in the empty castle. “Heaven? Aw, you poor thing. You still believe in that place. God left everyone a long time ago, dear.”

That’s it. You had had enough. “Let. Me. Go.”

“Nope.”

“Now!”

“No! Look at your arm, you’re bound to me forever. If you leave my side down here, you’ll burn. As your soul leaves your body it’ll be cast down here with everyone else forever to be tortured. You’ll never get the chance to live with your loved ones. The only way you’ll see them is if you stay with me. I’ll take you wherever, but you will never be apart from me.”

Your eyes filled with tears. “Why?”

“Because I love you.”

The Winter Soldier’s hips crashed into yours at a hard pace, just how he liked it. Your moans mixed together in the room as you both reached your peaks together, his cum painting your velvety walls.

He reached up to feel your swollen belly and smiled into your neck. “They’re almost here.”

You hummed in response. You had been stuck in Hell for the past year. You accepted everything slowly, but surely. Once you did, your husband showed you an unwavering amount of love. He let you see your family and friends, whom you hadn’t seen in years, and he let you travel to different realms. You never wanted for anything. He quickly, with you by his side as queen, took over all realms of the universe. Everything belonged to him, and in turn, to you.

Once you both learned of your pregnancy, you were nervous. You never thought you’d get married, let alone have children. The soldier helped you through it all, though, and your nerves were replaced with true joy as you thought about the triplets growing inside your belly.

You never knew how much love could come out of two lonely hearts meeting together.

#dark!fic #dark!#dark!wintersoldier #dark!wintersoldier x witch!reader #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!marvel #dark!mcu

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 3 years

Text

Desperate situations call for desperate measures. Ch.II Dave York x F!reader. #Writer Wednesday 05/19/21

#Writer Wednesday 05/19/21 for @autumnleaves1991-blog

Summary: After you did your first job for Dave, you’ve been training for this moment. Your first job alone, your first kill.

Warning: Dave York, he’s a warning in his own, descriptions of murder and death, anxiety and panic attacks, blood and injuries. Maybe some kissing...or not

A/N: This is a second part of a series that started with the second picture challenge in a #Writer Wednesday called “Desperate situations call for desperate measures” read it here, it would not make sense if you read this alone. This is slow burn and for the moment I let everything a bit suggestive but it would eventually become hotter. Because Dave is Dave and he likes to torture us.

Desperate situation call for desperate measures. Chapter II

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817

“I’m sorry everything is a mess. I was not used to live alone. My wife left a month ago and I thought I could manage everything by myself at first, but...” the man opens the door to you and lowers his head in shame.

You can see the bare mattress since the fitted sheet is partly touching the carpet and the duvet is a ball at one side, you can see from here that he didn’t bother to change the pillowcases and the one he uses has his head shaped into it with yellowish marks of sweat on them. The rest of the room is sprinkled with dirty laundry and empty glasses and dirty dishes. In front of the bed the closet stays open, no clothes hanging in it as the laundry basket is full and the clothes spills over until they fall around it.

The room stinks and the half closed shutters and the window glass full of dust assure he hasn’t aired it in a long time. He’s a pig, a lazy dirty pig but, does he deserve to die? You breathe deeply trying to ignore the sour taste the smell of the room leaves in your mouth.

“I will do the laundry and change the sheets first” you say with a soft smile

“Thank you, I’ll be in my office if you need me” he walks away in his pajamas and drags his feet over the carpet as if he couldn’t even raise the weight of his legs, destroyed and done with the world, with no clean clothes just a pajama and two non matching socks. And he will die like this. You think is not fair, whatever he has done, he deserves a little bit of dignity. But that’s not your choice. That’s what you have to do, it’s not personal.

You try not to breathe while you pretend to tidy up. When you hear the soft muffle tunes of country music, you know it’s time. You take off your shoes and walk stealthily towards the room at the end of the aisle. From the door you see his bald head, eyes fixed on his computer, and he doesn’t hear you when you come close to him as you have observe from weeks of stalking you know he listens to his music too loudly, so when you insert the needle on his carotid that’s the first time he notices you.

His head turns with an expression of horror and surprise, his blue eyes widely open while his thin capillaries burst clouding his eyeballs in red while he gasps.

“Shhh” you hear yourself making soothing sounds to him and you hold his head with care with your hands covered in black latex gloves. It’s no personal, you repeat in your head when you see how he face contorts when the air is not longer getting inside his lungs, the veins in his neck are thick and visible through his now red skin. You turn your head and try to remember all the shit Dave has told you. You try to remember his deep voice, his hands guiding your movements

“It’s not personal” he said and now you repeat it loudly, the target expires and he tenses for a moment and then you let him go, his face hitting the keyboard.

“It’s not personal” you whimper and hold back the tears remembering the DNA that you absolutely cannot leave.

You didn’t even catch his name, you actually think you ignore it once he told you, but now it doesn’t matter, because with name or without it, his face will burn forever in your mind. Your first job, your first kill.

It’s not personal.

6 months ago. Dave’s car, after the phone booth call

“We have arrived” his palm burns on your cheek and you suddenly remember where you are. His cologne and aftershave on his wool coat, the fresh and clean scent inside his car and the mud you have brought inside it.

“Arrive where?” you raise on your sit and look through the windows, it’s a common street, small apartments buildings stuck to one and other, a few cars parked to both sides and the sidewalks glow with the dew of the imminent sunrise.

“Safe house” he says before exiting the car, you see him turn until he opens your door and bends down looking at you like evaluating if you could get out on yourself “Come” Dave lends you his hand and you take it holding it tightly trying to gather the strength to move your legs but they shake so violently that Dave grabs you by the waist and pulls you out of the car. Your body, used to the warmth inside the vehicle, tremble and your muscles stiffen in the chill air of the dawn.

You lean on Dave and let him drag you to the stairs of the building while your head rests on his shoulder “we haven’t use this once in a while, but for tonight it will do” he comments as he opens the glass door. There’s no sound coming from the few flats on each floor, some of the walls look half painted and you wonder if there’s someone living here, would he own a damn building in the center of the city?

The apartment is big, dark wood parquet and white walls make the room look open and there’s only a marble isle with two stools close to the kitchen and a grey sofa in front of it.

“Let’s get you to the bathroom. You need a warm bath”

He lets you seated on the toilet while he prepares everything. You observe him, he wears all black: a hoodie and sweatpants and it’s a drastic change from the first time you met him. His brown hair is disheveled as if he had taken off a hat or a helmet. Where was he before you called him?

“There’re only man clothes here, but tomorrow I will bring you something more suitable” He has a duffle bag and he takes out some small shampoo and shower gel bottles, toothbrush and paste and a plastic zip bag full of what looks like to be different medication.

“You’re always prepared” you mutter and you feel your voice coarse and how it stings to say anything. You screamed, a lot, you remember now how they killed Tom and how you fled.

“We have to be” Dave bends down and adjusts the temperature while the water runs down from the shower head. He extends his hand to the stream “I think it’s warm enough. I leave you to it” he gives you one of those warm smiles and you notice now that a dimple appears when he does it. You know nothing of him but for some reason you’re sure that he doesn’t let many people see this kind of gentleness and it makes your heart beat faster. You hope that smile is only for you, that you own that little part of him.

You get up and stumble when your head turns

“Hey take it easy. There’s a towel just on the sink. I’ll wait outside” he lingers on the door frame when you don’t move for a few minutes, your gaze fixed on the bathroom mirror, the steam from the shower cannot conceal the horror it reflects. Your hair is a mess, some of it glued in sweat and mud on your cheek, you have bruises and bleeding scratches all over the skin your stupid dress didn’t cover.

“I’ll be just here, say something if you need me” Dave interrupts your thoughts and he closes the door leaving you alone with you reflection. That woman out of a horror movie you don’t recognize. You strip feeling how every movement makes you flinch, every fiber of your body screaming in pain. You remember how you ran, how you waited hours in the cold mud. Your feet hurt as if you were stepping on fire when you touch the warm water, it runs towards the drain black and red, when your feet are clean you see the blisters and cuts you have on them. You walk humming slowly and you sound just like a zombie and you feel like one. But you’re not dead.

When the warm running water hits your back you moan and you stay there until you feel your muscle untangle, head down watching all the dirt leaving your body. And it feels so nice that you could fall sleep right here, it feels so peaceful that you feel as if your soul could leave your body. But you’re not dead.

You know who’s dead? a voice asks in your head. You mumble his name, the name of your friend. Tom. Yes, he’s dead, probably his body stiff and cold in a puddle of his own blood on the pavement of that dreadful place, and here you are in a nice apartment taking a warm shower. Probably the nicest place you’ve been in a while, your house, his house, the house of your dead friend was not this classy and tidy, but he put a roof over your head, shared the food he had with you even if it was just crumbles, even if he was stupid. Nobody deserves to die like a pig and be let wherever to be never seen again.

Does he have a family? You met other friends of his, they must be worried. What did they do with his body? Where’s his mum? Now that you think about it he used to have some long calls on weekends, maybe it was her o maybe a partner. Anyway somebody must be looking for him or they will be once he doesn’t show up in a few days. They deserve to know. You have to tell Dave about it. No, he will dismiss it. It’s too dangerous...you’re the last person somebody saw Tom with, you lived with him these past few weeks so once they look for him, they will look for you... and how will you explain...

You haven’t noticed how the water is burning your skin and how you breathing is getting faster and faster until you cannot get enough air in your lungs for much you try. You attempt to call Dave but your chest feels like it’s made of stones. The steam and you eyes starts to blurry making it impossible to get out and you hit the glass screen to get out and suddenly they are open and from the white mist you feel his body holding you

He hushes on your forehead as he did when he had picked you up. Holding your head on his big palms he makes you look at him.

“Breathe for me. Can you do that?” and you nod “Try to match my breathing” He place your head to his chest and he inhales deeply and let his air out slowly. You whimper feeling as if your lungs could expand and release the air, but hearing his breathing and feeling how his strong chest is pressed against you pushing you out and back in again. And you can breathe again. “Let’s get you clean and then you can rest” He places your numb body under the shower head while he pours some shower gel on his hand.

It smells just like him, fresh and some deep tones you cannot identify but it relaxes you instantly. You pay no mind that you’re naked as the day you wear born and Dave doesn’t give any sign that it bothers him. He softly grabs one of your arms and brushes his hand leaving pearly white bubbles over your skin and he turns you and cleans your back and then he slowly repeats the process to the other arm “Stay here” he says getting you back to the wall while switches to the shampoo bottle “Lower your head for me” he commands and gently brushes two of his fingers over you nape leaving your skin in gooseflesh.

He scratches your scalp softly massaging from the forehead to your neck, his knuckles softly pressing on your hurting vertebrae and you moan loudly. The pressure you felt over your shoulders swiftly being relieved. “Let’s rinse it and you can go to sleep” his voice is soft and deep, the sweetest music you’ve heard mixed with the murmur of the water. He passes the shower head over your head until you imagine there’s no more soap and then he wraps you in a soft white towel and gets you out of the shower. You walk on your tiptoes, your feet too hurt to fully press them on the ground.

“Almost there” he whispers

The bed is the nicest you have tested in your whole life, the pillows adapt to your head and you moan feeling a mixture of pain, pleasure and tiredness as you have never experience.

“I will let you sleep now and I will come back in the morning” he flips his wrist, his silver watch shakes and he looks at it with disgust for a second “well, in a few hours, you need at least a good 8 hours, and we will see what to do next”

Your mind is foggy and you watch him through semi closed eyes “Thank you” you whisper “but what happens with Tom?” you ask, mid sentence your voice breaks and you exhale all your air before you could give in to the panic again.

Dave raises one eyebrow, seated next to you on the bed; he evaluates you for a second.

“I know he’s dead, I...what about his body? his family?”

“Sadly nobody knows what happened to him... or to you” he sighs, his face show a perfect image of sadness “And nobody will” the change it’s fast, you can see his eyes turn darker, it’s a warning. Nobody will know and you better keep it that way

“But...the police” he hushes you again and a kindly brushes his knuckles over your cheek

“We’ll talk later. Do you think you will sleep or you need me to get you something to help you fall asleep?” he points to the bathroom where he left the plastic zip bag

“No, thank you” you answer and you feel already how you’re slurring the words

“Good girl”

You will think later it was part of your dreams. That your brain was so desperate to find any comfort, to try to stop the never ending loop of Tom’s death in your head that it imagined something you have wanted since you met Dave.

He bends down and comes closer until your faces are almost touching. You feel the tip of his nose and his fresh breath over your cheek but in a second he goes a few millimeters down and his lips touch yours so briefly that when your mind can process it, it’s already gone.

You fight your eyes and your body, you want to whine and ask for more, ask for his body against yours again, but you fall sleep and when you wake up, sweating, scared and screaming, he’s not there.

8518 Rayburn Rd, Bethesda, MD 20817. Half an hour after the target’s death.

You have clean everything up. Somebody will ask for him, his neighbors, maybe his family or friends, probably his boss. They will think that he must have mixed two of his medicaments, the one his doctor specifically had advice to keep apart because it could be dangerous to mix together but since it was his wife who organized everything and now she’s gone; they will find that he had effectively mixed the two inside the cupboards. The house is a mess, his mind was too so nobody will be surprised he committed a silly fatal error. His dirty laundry will stay there until they empty the house and throw away his things, those permanent things will disappear from earth as he had. And nobody will know the truth.

You carefully take out your gloves and the needle with the small glass bottle inside a zipper plastic bag and you get out of the house. A dark big truck waits for you and you get on the passenger’s seat.

“So, how did it go?” he asks

“Fine. it’s done” you take out your wig and the net that keeps your hair carefully tucked inside to prevent you from leaving DNA

Dave looks at you for a moment and reaches for your head massaging the scalp and you press your lips together so a moan doesn’t escape from it though his fingers untangling an relieving the pressure from the wig is the most intimate and delicious thing you’ve felt. Well, since the day he had showered you because you were exhausted.

He’s nicely dressed in a grey suit and a red tie, from the rearview mirror you see his wool coat and black leather briefcase. Where is going? where was he ? It’s been six month since he started your training and still you have no clue of who he really is.

You snap back to reality once you feel his hand on your chin

“Are you sure?” he asks. His brown eyes penetrate you and you wish that that bridge he builds between you two would be a two way street. That one day you will know every little corner of him as he knows about yourself and your mind. But for the moment you’re lost in his presence, blindfolded and wishing he could show you more but scare of what you might find.

“He’s dead, I watched him die and checked him minutes after like you taught me” you respond lowering your head. You don’t want to show him how you were on the break of tears, how you had second thoughts and how you pitied the poor man.

“I’m not asking about him, I’m asking about you” he lifts your face up

“I’m okay” you mutter and cough to gain a little bit more of strength in your voice “I’m fine”

“Then congratulations” he smiles and you look at him confused “It’s your first job alone and you did well” he explains “Open the glove box” he starts the car while you wait confused by the whole thing “Open it, c’mon, there’s a gift for you” he smirks

You do and there’s a white laminated badge. You recognize Dave’s face and you see for the first time his full name: David York, CIA.

You turn your head to him, a cold stream of sweat runs through your nape.

“I know you’ve worried about the police, how they will find you; and you’ve been loyal, obedient and efficient. As I told you, you will learn to trust me as the team and I will trust you back” he looks at the road while he speaks and you cannot take out your eyes from the badge

“Am I...am I working for the CIA?” you ask

“God, no!” he laughs, a deep husky chuckle “What I mean, it’s that we’re safe. I can contain things when we need to. So you can relax”

Relax? If anything you’re way more scared of him now you know this. He must me lying; he can falsify one of those...right? Or is he being honest?

“And that’s my gift?” you say closing the small door. You cannot lay your eyes anymore on that thing

“No, there’s more”

He parks at your neighborhood, the same he took you to six month ago. It’s not fully decorated yet but you’re proud of what you’re doing with it and it reminds you of the houses that you used to see in those style magazines: open concept, simple colors and practical furniture. On the tea table at the center of the leaving room there’s a blue box with a ribbon. Dave points to it “That’s for you”

You open it and gasp: There’s a small cactus, your book but it hasn’t its usual yellowish pages and the covers are not wrinkled, and that old picture, the only happy memory of your childhood is now framed in a nice silver frame. The things you left months ago in Tom’s house.

“You kept my things...all this time?”

“I couldn’t take them when Resnik went to make sure there was nothing to tie him to us, but he gave me a list of your belongings and I thought it will be nice if you keep something from your old life”

“How did you find that picture, the only person that has another copy is...” you open your eyes widely “You haven’t...”

“He’s alive; I just took what I wanted to know about you and that picture”

“Thank you” you hold the frame to your chest holding back tears

“You’re welcome”

He nods and turns away to leave

“Dave?”

“Hm?”

“What did he do?”

“What did I tell you?”

“It’s not personal”

and he nods but he gazes at you and how your hands hold the frame tightly and you’re starting to breathe deeply

“Would it help if you knew that he was a horrible human being?”

“Well...” you bite your lip

“It won’t, I assure you” he walks slowly towards you until he’s so close and you wish it wouldn’t be so easy, that you wouldn’t be tamed as a small pet just with his presence close to you and his scent clouding your judgment.

“That’s what you do for the CIA?”

“Don’t be eager. You and I will eventually know each other really well” he grins and takes the frame from your hands “You were a very beautiful baby” he smiles at the picture

“Thanks”

“What are you dress up as?” He gives you one of those warm smiles and you feel the hunger to just jump to his lips and kiss him. My smile, that warmth, that small spark of kindness is mine.

“A fairy...a princess, something like that”

“Very pretty” he carefully puts the frame at the center of the table

“That girl would be very surprised to know that now she kills people”

“She will, and have to be, very proud to be a survivor” there’s something in his eyes, an anger but not towards you, something that hurts him and you wish to know, that he’d be as naked and transparent as you are for him.

“I don’t feel very proud today” you keep your eyes fixed on that baby almost lost on the pink tulle, smiling with almost no teeth to the woman holding her on her lap. Tears gather on the corner of your eyes

“You will learn to let it go, I promise” his hand hold you and you feel that you’ve landed back on earth after many memories have awaken the storm inside your heart.

How can he calm you, scare you, make you feel safe and weak at the same time?

“So I didn’t graduate today?” you shake your head and he smiles

“Not yet. You’re closer to be what I wanted and needed, but not yet there, sweetheart”

“What else is there to be taught?” you’ve training not stop for the past six months.

“So much” his thumb traces your jaw line

“Until I’m what you want and need” you repeat his words

“Exactly, do you still want to?”

You give a last look at the past, at your past self, that happy innocent baby that would never thought she will be so lost in the future, so desperate and alone until she found this man that had give her this twisted life, full of shadows and dark thoughts, lies and death and that you’re dying to be even more tangled with him that you already are.

“I’m yours, Dave”

(Since you were interested in a continuation for the first chapter, here you go. Thank you for you nice feedback on the first one and I hope you like it and sorry for taking so long to get a second part : @ericasabe @1andthesame)

#writer wednesday #Dave York #dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york pit #the equalizer 2 #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #Pedro Pascal characters fanfic

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royallyprincesslilly · 4 years

Text

Title: Kismet {9}

Henry Cavill x Famous OFC Aliya Taylor

Warning: Slow Burn, Mild Cursing, Dialogue Heavy, POV Changes

Words: 3.5k

Summary: Aliya is a singer turned model turned actress. Since she was fifteen, she’s been creating her empire in the entertainment world. As the daughter of a famous fashion model/designer and Hollywood director, you’d think life is easy for her, but her past has been anything but easy. Due to past trauma, she’s forever changed and no longer trusts any man that is not in her family and a select few in her team. She’s sworn off love and serious relationships and has planned never to fall again, but love isn’t something that can be planned. It just happens when it’s meant to. Can Aliya outrun a love that seems hellbent on holding tight to her, a love that is Kismet?

If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG!! 😘

As always, thank you so much for reading. ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

***Interactive***

Previous Chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 |

The change within you was instantaneous, and your body fought it like a foreign virus. You’d barely slept a wink the night before. You tossed. You rolled. You took up your phone and hovered over Henry’s contact only to put it back down and toss and turn some more. Half of you wanted to talk to him so badly, but the other half wanted you to practice some restraint. There was no happy middle ground, and because there wasn’t, you struggled to find any peace in your mind. By the time you managed to fall asleep, it was one hour before you had to get up to prep for your day. When you opened your eyes, the first thing you saw was a message from the culprit to your sleeplessness himself.

MSG Henry: Good morning, beautiful. I didn’t sleep a wink. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I must have picked up my phone ten times to text or call you. It’s torture not being able to hear the one voice you want to hear more than anything.

As soon as you read the words, your heart literally melted, and butterflies filled your belly.

“Christ almighty,” you whispered as your fingers itched to rapid-fire. Before you could catch yourself, you’d already typed out a reply and sent it.

MSG: Good Morning to you too, handsome. I know what you mean. I didn’t sleep either. I almost called you so many times. I think you’re addicting.

You reread the message then groaned at the last sentence.

“Really, Aliya, addicting?” You rolled your eyes hard and pushed to get yourself ready for the day.

By the time you’d left the hotel, he still hadn’t replied, and you regretted responding altogether. So, here you were sitting in one of your four meetings for the day trying to keep your head in the game and your mind off of Henry’s lips, or his eyes, or the feel of his muscular arms around you. It was proving more complicated than it sounded. When you weren’t thinking of his lips, or his eyes, or his arms and kisses, you were overthinking your message and his lack of response.

A little more than halfway in your first meeting, your phone went off, and you had to make yourself slow down and not leap for it. Nonchalantly, you glanced at the screen and saw Henry’s name.

MSG Henry: Addicting, huh? I like that, but you should not be talking. I have been addicted to you since the day you bumped into me.

Any worries you’d had the last few hours melted away, and a smile spread across your face.

MSG: Do tell me more, Mr. Cavill.

Barely a minute passed before another message came in.

MSG Henry: I would rather tell you while looking in your eyes so you can see the depth of which I mean them in my eyes.

You bit your bottom lip and closed your eyes. He was different alright, you thought.

MSG Henry: I’m sorry it took me this long to reply. I’m trying to finish up all business between today and tomorrow. I had to hide my phone from myself, or else I would have been messaging you this entire time.

You couldn’t lie. That felt good to know that he was having as much of a struggle going about his typical day to day tasks as you were. The knowledge of that comforted you, but it also worried you. This thing was still so new. For the duration of your meeting, you texted on and off. It continued as you moved to your second and third meetings, and by then, your focus was shot. The only thing you cared about was what he was saying.

You loved how open he was. He always found a way to describe to you just what he was thinking or feeling while still remaining mysterious enough to have you wondering what he felt and thought. It was interesting. You’d always been able to predict every man that tried to enter your life. You could predict their motives, what tactics they’d use to try to weasel themselves in, and you often could predict how things would end. With Henry, you’d been having a difficult time with those predictions. It bothered you.

By the time you got back to your hotel room, it was nearing seven o’clock. You wasted no time putting your phone on silent to concentrate on a little self-care beginning with a soak in the jetted tub. You did your best to keep your mind open to allow the meditation track you played to really work at loosening the knots in your shoulders and tension in your neck. The stress of your life, mainly from work, was really beginning to show. It had always shown, you just never listened to your body whenever it told you to slow down or take it easy.

Many of your friends and family teased you that you lived to work instead of working to live. There were times you were inclined to agree with them because you didn’t need to work so much to maintain the lifestyle you were accustomed to. You had more money than you knew what to do with. You could afford to take time off to recharge but, you’d lived with the belief that the less time you had to be idle, the better it was for your mental and emotional health. Idle hands, after all, were the devil’s playground. You’d grown so accustomed to working nonstop that you didn’t know how to just do nothing.

After almost two hours in the bath, as you walked into the bedroom, you saw your phone light up. It was an incoming call from Henry. Sighing, you plopped onto the bed, trying to fight back the smile that wanted freedom. The smile won the battle.

“Hello?”

“Did I wake you? I called earlier but--.”

“No, I’m awake. I put my phone on silent and took a long bath,” you clarified.

“Ah, that sounds relaxing. Maybe I should try that. I’m feeling this burnout more and more.”

“Those who are serious about their craft work too much.”

Henry sighed softly, and you wondered if there was a hint of mint and Guinness on his lips.

“I don’t want to work tonight,” Henry declared. “Tonight, I want to be with you.”

You dropped back onto the bed and stared at the ceiling. “Oh, do you now?”

“Yes,” Henry confirmed, his voice dropping in baritone. Your belly fluttered, making you press your palm against it.

“Have you eaten?”

“I haven’t,” you breathlessly replied.

“Good. I’ll be around for you in forty-five minutes.”

You sprang upward. “That’s not enough time.”

“Oh no? High maintenance are you?”

You snorted and shook your head, hearing the tease and challenge in his voice.

“Forty-five minutes then, just don’t get mad when I don’t look like pictures in magazines,” you quipped.

“Come as you are.”

Your reflection caught your eye. Because you’d gotten your hair slightly wet in the tub, it was now in a half natural half blown out state, making you look crazy. You doubted forty-five would be enough to tame it.

“See you soon,” you said before hanging up to focus on getting yourself together.

Forty-nine minutes later, you were dressed and on your way down in the elevator. As it made its way down, you assessed your appearance, thankful you were able to straighten your hair again to add a few loose curls. Part of you hadn’t wanted to bother, but you knew the dress you were going to wear would be better complemented with a sleek look. Your eyes skimmed the half sheer and half bodycon black dress you wore, loving that it was the right mix between sexy and classic. You added another layer of your mauve tinted lip gloss and just in time for the doors to open.

It didn’t take long for you to spot him sitting in the lobby where one of the big-screen TVs were placed. He was watching a rugby match. You crossed the black and white designed tiled floors and approached behind him. When you dipped to his ear, his scent almost had a moan escaping you—almost.

“Either, no matter where you are, you gravitate to rugby, or I took too long,” you whispered.

Henry turned, and the moment his eyes landed on you, a dumbfounded look washed across his face. You tried not to bashfully look away as you watched his jaw drop when his eyes took in the full view.

“Wow.”

A giggle that would have been nauseating from someone else slipped from you, making you press your fingertips to your lips.

“You’re breathtaking.”

You smiled, then gently tapped his chest.

“Stop.”

“I’m being completely truthful.”

Those damn butterflies made their presence known once again.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Henry held out a single peony to you. “For you.”

As you took it, your smile widened. “Wow, one of my favorite flowers.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded.

“Hmm, happy coincidence,” Henry replied as he stood and buttoned his suit jacket. Once done, he held out his arm for you. “Shall we?”

You nodded and looped yours with his, ready for whatever the night brought on.

-Henry-

As you sat across from him under the hanging flowers and dim lighting of the restaurant perusing the menu, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. It could have been the way the golden light bathed your skin, giving it an almost glowing aura. Or it could have been the soft smile pasted to your subtle painted lips. It could have even been the spell of the restaurant, the classical music playing, and the sweet scent of flowers that surrounded the two of you. Whatever it was, he itched to touch you, itched to get closer, and itched to do nothing but find a way to keep a smile on your face.

“What?”

Realizing you were now looking at him, he smiled back at you.

“Nothing.”

“No, no. That’s a something look,” you said, still not able to not smile.

“It’s nothing,” he repeated.

“Henry, seriously. What is it?”

You reached out and gently slapped his hand, then rested it on top of the table.

“Nothing, really. It’s just—I can’t seem to keep my eyes off of you,” he admitted.

Your smile slipped, revealing a serious expression for a few seconds before you smiled again and dipped your head in a bashful way. Unable to keep his hands to himself any longer, he closed the gap between your hands and took yours.

“Your parents must be proud to have raised such a charming son.”

He smiled, then shrugged. “She has five of them.”

“Bless her heart,” you added, making him chuckle.

A comfortable silence drifted between you as he enjoyed the softness of your hand in his and the way your warmth mingled with his. He could get used to this, he thought to himself. When the waiter returned to the table to pour the chosen wine into your glasses, you pulled your hand away, but he didn’t take offense.

“So, by this time next week, I will be off the grid,” he said after the waiter walked off again.

A quizzical look swept across your face.

“Off the grid? Are you a spy?”

He smiled. “I promise I’m not.”

Another waiter approached the table, this time carrying your selected third and final courses. He thanked the waiter as he laid the plates before you before he retreated.

“You were saying,” you prompted, lifting your dinner fork from the selection of three different ones to your right.

“I’ve earned some much needed R&R.”

With your fork paused at your lips, you smiled. “Oh, that’s great. Congratulations. When was the last time you took a holiday?”

He watched you chew and quickly got lost watching your mouth. It took him several seconds to regain his train of thought.

“Eh-em, uh—perhaps a year and a half, if we are talking about a true holiday.”

“Wow, that’s a long time.”

“What about you?”

You smirked, then scoffed. “Define holiday.”

He returned your smirk then rested his knife and fork atop the braised beef on his plate before he replied. “Time off, no work, nothing that you have to worry about that can cause stress, anxiety, or tension. Oh, and of course, sleeping late, drinking until three or four in the morning, fun every day, and feeling refreshed upon return.”

You smiled as you finished chewing. He watched you take another sip from your glass and knew the wine was only making your lips even sweeter than they already were.

“Ha! Jeez, when you define it like that, it’s been years upon years,” you replied.

“Not good at all.”

You nodded. “Tell me about it.” A soft smile was still on your lips as you placed another forkful of the pan-seared sea bass you were eating.

With those words, a thought formulated in his mind, and it was a thought he wondered if he put words to would you be receptive. The remainder of dinner passed comfortably. Another reason why he couldn’t stop thinking about you and enjoyed being around you was because your conversation was always excellent. There was never any form of discomfort or awkwardness between you. You easily talked about so many things, and the things you said were always thought-provoking and intelligent. While everyone thought you were just a pretty face, you’d repeatedly allowed him to see that the world knew nothing.

His hand was rarely without yours in it, and when he held your hand, you softly raked your fingernails against the palm and fingers. Every time you did it, the goosebumps that raced across his skin sparked a reaction that was visible much, much lower than his hand. Everyone else in the restaurant could have disappeared for all he knew because you’d captivated him and every single one of his senses.

By the time you left the restaurant, it was close to midnight, but you didn’t seem to care what time it was. You held onto his hand as you walked along The River Thames. He often did this late at night when he couldn’t sleep. It was really the only time he could come and not be bothered or recognized because he was more than likely the only one there. Tonight your laughter danced through the air, and the gentle ebb and flow of the water only helped the glistening light from the bridge and neighboring buildings shimmer that much more. It was quite romantic.

You stopped and pressed your back to the iron gating that kept pedestrians out of the river. You stretched your arms out, leaning back as if to really enjoy the gentle breeze.

“It’s a beautiful night,” you sighed out.

Just like that, he drifted closer to you until there were only a few inches between your bodies. When you came upright again, your smile was still bright, even realizing he was so close.

“Are you trying to push me in?”

He smiled and shook his head. “Never.”

“Oh no?”

“No,” he repeated, taking another step to you.

You bit your bottom lip then sucked it into your mouth, and he became even more painfully aware that he hadn’t sampled them since the night before.

“Unacceptable,” he whispered.

“What?”

Reaching out, he cupped your jaw and slid his thumb across your cheekbone while he slowly traced every inch of your face to his memory. When his eyes met yours, he fell another foot or two deep into the quicksand-like pit of his growing feelings for you. He was so close to going under it was alarming.

“It’s unacceptable that I haven’t tasted your lips in over twelve hours.”

He heard a soft gasp escape your lips, and it was the only sound you made before his lips pressed to yours. The only move you made was to entangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. The feel of your fingers against his skin brought those familiar goosebumps. He moaned, then pulled you flush against him. The feel of your body against his made his heart thump rapidly, and when you moaned against his lips, the need to consume you took precedence.

When he delved his tongue into your mouth, he was shocked when you swirled yours around his, and the sensual move had him pressing you firmly against the iron behind you. It was out of character for him to do this so wide in the open, but he felt himself doing things that no one would ever guess he would do when he was with you. Your soft nibbled on his bottom lip brought his mind back to the rising dilemma, rising being the operative word.

Pulling his lips from yours, he rested his forehead to yours. Both of you didn’t speak; instead, you were both lost in trying to catch your breath. Long moments passed, and in those moments, he fought to regain his composure. He’d never reacted to anyone the way he reacted to you.

“Come with me,” he whispered, his voice shakier than he’d expected.

Your eyes fluttered open, and he didn’t know if it was wishful thinking, but he swore he saw actual stars in them that put the night sky to shame.

“Where?”

“Away on holiday.”

You pulled back a few centimeters and gazed into his eyes more intently. He watched them dart from his left eye, then to the right and back again. Slowly the stars vanished, and humor replaced them.

“Good one,” you said before you laughed out loud, pulling your body from his.

“Oh my god, you really had me going for a second,” you said through laughter.

You took two steps as if to continue walking, but he laced his fingers with yours and pulled you back before him. You gasped, and the sound of it made him close the space between you again, pressing you onto the iron bars. With his body pressed to yours leaving no evidence of there being two bodies, you moaned, and the sound almost had him capturing your lips again. If he did though, he didn’t know if his hands would remain respectful.

“I wasn’t kidding.”

Your eyes were on his lips, and the desire for you to take control, almost overrode his desire to be in control—almost.

“What?”

“Come on holiday with me, just the two of us, a beach wine somewhere—anywhere.”

He saw the moment you realized he was as serious as a heart attack.

“You’re serious,” you reiterated.

“More serious than I’ve been about anything.”

You didn’t speak for the next minute, but you also didn’t move away. He decided he’d give you the time to consider it.

You scoffed before you spoke. “What? Henry—we can’t.”

“Why?”

You gaped at him as if he were insane.

“Why?” That was when you pulled away from him and took a few steps sideways while still leaning against the gate. “We—we don’t--.”

You looked as if you were wracking your brain for a response, but you also looked like you were trying to catch your breath.

“We don’t know anything about each other.”

He took a step to you. You didn’t move.

“Which is why a private holiday would aid in us getting to know each other—uninterrupted without the pretexts,” he replied.

Your eyes widened before you shook your head then turned to face the water. You peered out silently, baffled. “Henry—we can’t.”

He approached you, and as he leaned against the gate, you looked at him. “Tell me why,” he requested.

“Why—because—I—I don’t do—that,” you stuttered.

“What holidays?”

He saw the exasperation wash across your face before it went blank. You stepped away again, then cleared your throat.

“I have an early flight out tomorrow.”

It was hard not to feel the rejection, but he hid it the best he could. Nodding, he held out his arm for you to take.

“Then let’s get you back to your hotel.”

The entire ten-minute walk, his mind went from one thing to the next. He worried he’d come on too strong, or that he’d said the wrong thing, or somehow offended you. Then he went back and forth with his decision to even ask you. Part of him felt like maybe he was jumping a little too far ahead, but the other part of him felt there was nothing wrong with inviting you especially based on how things had gone the entire night and the vibes he picked up. That made him wonder if he’d read the evening entirely wrong.

When he stopped with you in your hotel's lobby, he was in no hurry to ask you again. He’d begun to feel quite stupid. His hurt feelings needed the night to recover. He took your arm from the crook of his elbow and held your hand. Again, you didn’t pull away. Deciding he couldn't afford to give you the time to, he lowered your hand and stepped away from you.

“Thank you for dinner.”

“T—thank you,” you said barely above a whisper.

He nodded and debated his next move. He took a timid step forward and kissed your cheek.

“Have a safe flight.”

“Thank you.”

This one was a whisper.

“Good night, Aliya,” he breathed out before he quickly kissed your forehead then walked away out the door and down the street without looking back.

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

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#kismet fic #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x black reader #henry cavill x black ofc #black fanfiction #slow burn fanfic

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misskikuwrites · 4 years

Text

Recall

Bederia Week 2021: Day 5 - First ‘I love you’

Bede/Gloria (dressedinpinkshipping)

Tags: fluff, angst, mutual pining

Words: 4,031

@bede-x-gloria

It was a welcoming, albeit surprising, sight to see Gloria saunter into the Fairy Gym, as if nothing had happened between her and Bede. As if they hadn't kissed not once, but twice, in the past few days. Bede collected himself and straightened. He tried to hide his disappointment that the kisses they'd shared hadn't left a lasting impression on her. His heart flopped heavily in his chest. As she approached, he decided to greet Gloria as per usual.

"Please tell me you haven't gotten yourself into more trouble so soon," Bede said, teasing her with the faintest of smiles on his face. "Need I remind you of the many favours I've already done for you this year?"

Gloria huffed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "What, I can't come visit you for no reason?" She stared him down for a moment, her reaction - or lack thereof - towards him giving Bede pause.

Perhaps nothing had changed between them after all.

"Fine, if you're so busy-" she whirled on her heels "-I'll go find someone else to bother."

Bede bit back a smile. He could tell she was pouting, her cheeks puffed, by the sound of her voice.

"Hold on, I never said I was busy," he said quickly, making Gloria stop before she'd reached the automatic doors. She peeked over her shoulder at him, unconvinced. The fake hurt on her face, her expression an absolute put-on, made him want to laugh. He swallowed the mirth that bubbled in his chest, forcing down his grin. Arceus, she was adorable when she didn't get her way. It made him want to tease her more.

"In fact," Bede continued, thinking on the spot for a reason to make her stay, "I might just call in one of the favours you owe me."

Gloria slowly turned back to face him. Her brow furrowed slightly. "What sort of favour?"

"If you're willing to put yourself to good use, then come with me," Bede said, beckoning her to follow as he headed backstage. Gentle footfalls trailed behind him, the clasps of Gloria's bag jangling as she shifted its weight on her back, and Bede couldn't help but smirk at how she'd followed him without question. He led her into a room usually used for storage, the back wall crammed with overstuffed boxes, and gestured for her to take a seat at the table.

Gloria swept her gaze around the room in mute awe. Costume racks and half-painted backdrops lined the walls. The table in the centre of the room was covered with stationary and an array of books - notebooks, workbooks and dictionaries - and Gloria paused, craning her head to read one of them as she passed. She frowned in confusion, and glanced at Bede.

"What language is this?" she asked, sliding into a chair and depositing her bag on the floor.

Bede shut the door behind him and took a seat opposite her. "Kalosian," he said. He slid a notebook towards himself, the pages filled with his cursive script.

Gloria blinked at him. "I can't speak Kalosian."

"I assumed as much." Bede acted as though he was paying little attention to her, flipping open a dictionary with his right hand to thumb through the pages. He found the entry he was after, and held the page open with his fingers as he jotted down the translation in his workbook. Next to it, he detailed the correct pronunciation.

She watched him for a moment, confused, before grabbing one of the other books that were on the table, one that translated common Kalosian phrases. As her eyes trailed over the words, her brow furrowed more and more. Her lips twisted in thought. Lips that, a few days ago, Bede had felt against his own. He stole his gaze away quickly before she could notice that he was staring, before heat could rise up his neck and pool across his cheeks. He needed to focus. She'd only let him kiss her because he'd agreed that it wouldn't change anything between them, and he would uphold that, even as he desperately wished to kiss her again.

Damn it. Bede swallowed thickly, his mind vividly replaying that moment, from the sweet blush on Gloria's face as she closed her eyes, to how silken her hair had felt between his fingers, and the intoxicating sound that she'd made when he'd finally pulled away. That sound haunted him. A soft moan, felt against his lips as they'd parted, echoed in his mind as clearly as it had that day. He wondered what it would be like for her to say his name like that-

"Bede?"

Bede jolted, snapping the pencil in his hand. She gaped at him, at the wooden fragments between his fingers, in shock. Bede cleared his throat, tossing the broken pencil in the wastebasket beside him.

"Yes?" he answered her gruffly, his skin prickling as if all his nerves had come to life at once. So much for nothing changing between them- he couldn't get that kiss out of his mind, especially not with Gloria right in front of him.

"Uh…" Still a bit stunned, it took a moment for her to speak again. "What was the favour you wanted me here for?"

Right. The reason - the excuse - that he'd come up with in order to extend her visit for a while longer.

"I require someone to test my skills in Kalosian," he said. "That book you're holding details common phrases- as simple as it is to work through them myself, I need more of a challenge if I'm to achieve competency in Kalosian."

"Why Kalosian? Do you need it for a play or something?"

"If it was for a play, I'd be learning a script, not common phrases," Bede pointed out. "Kalos is our closest neighbour, and where the Fairy type was first discovered. That alone is enough of a reason to learn their language. I've also been advised that some of our most ardent fans are from Kalos- the kind of fans who may, perhaps, choose to sponsor us if we make a good enough impression the next time they visit."

Gloria nodded slowly. "How am I supposed to test you if I don't know the correct meaning, though? I don't think I can pronounce any of these!"

Bede resisted the urge to huff. She had a point. "I wouldn't be asking you to test me if I was so unsure of myself. All you need to do is point at a phrase, and I'll translate it. The answers are at the bottom, although I doubt I'll need them."

"So… you just want me to pick phrases for you to translate?"

"For now, yes."

It was a flimsy excuse. Bede could study Kalosian well enough on his own, and Gloria would be more distracting than helpful, but with the confusing moments they'd shared over the past few weeks, he longed to spend more time with her- especially if it meant getting closer to unravelling the conundrum that was Gloria.

"It'll be easier to point out phrases if I'm sitting next to you," she said, getting out of her seat before Bede could protest. He stiffened as she sat in the chair beside him, close enough that their arms almost brushed. For someone who had struggled to meet his eyes after they'd kissed, she had no issue with sitting so close to him days after the fact. Had she truly moved on so quickly? She glanced over at him and there it was- the infinitesimal widening of her eyes as she realised just how close they were sitting. Bede's heart lifted. Maybe he still had a chance.

Maybe, just maybe, he could win Gloria over one day.

Gloria almost turned to stone the second her eyes landed on Bede's. She'd jumped into the seat beside him without thinking, and was instantly taken back to that moment a few days ago, that moment where they'd sat side by side like this, where Bede's fingers had caressed her cheek. All she'd seen in the reflection of his violet eyes was herself, the cage around her heart falling away for the brief moment he'd kissed her. A jolt of warmth shot through her veins at the memory.

Don't think about that now! Gloria snapped at herself, tearing her eyes away from Bede's shapely lips, knowing very well how it had felt to have them meld against her own. Her lungs fluttered, leaving her to take a sharp breath, and she jabbed her finger at a sentence in Kalosian.

"What- What does this mean?" she asked.

Her heart pounded, and as Bede leant over to get a better look at the words she was pointing at, she shoved the book closer to him. His shoulder brushed hers, that slight contact bringing to the full force of her attention how it felt to have him so close. She felt dizzy and giddy at the same time. Unable to hear Bede's response despite the fact that he was close enough to be speaking into her ear.

As much as she'd pleaded with Bede to not let their kiss change anything between them, her heart had other ideas. The night after he'd kissed her, she hadn't slept at all. Whenever she had closed her eyes, the moment by the lake had come back to her. Now, every time she pursed her lips or chewed on a pen, she recalled the warmth of his lips. Every time she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, she recalled the sweep of his fingers through her hair, the way his touch had sent a gentle shiver through her body. It made her delirious. Breathless. And her eyes kept trailing to his lips whenever he spoke. It was maddening. Frustrating. Her feelings towards Bede had only grown since he'd kissed her, even though they hadn't seen each other after that until today.

Gloria cleared her throat as subtly as she could, her mouth going dry, and she pointed to another phrase.

"This one?" she asked.

"That means, 'can you help me?'" Bede replied. "Pouvez-vous m’aider," he read aloud.

Gloria had no clue whether that was correct or not, as she rested her arm across the answers at the bottom of the page, but she nodded anyway.

"This one?"

"'Comment vous appelez-vous' means 'what is your name?'" Bede answered.

Gloria pointed to a different phrase. "And this one?"

"What's the time?"

"This one?"

"How are you?"

"This one?"

"I love you."

Gloria froze. Her mind stumbled, mouth hanging open as the words she was about to say got caught on her tongue. Heat blazed across her cheeks.

"That's- That's what it says," Bede said hastily. "'Je t'aime' means 'I love you.'"

"Right! Of course." Her voice came out as a squeak. "Th-That makes sense."

Nothing made sense to her now.

Bede cleared his throat. "Let's try some harder phrases," he suggested, reaching over to turn to the later pages of the book. Gloria yanked her hands to her sides, sitting as far back in her chair as she could, as Bede inevitably got closer to her as he flicked through the pages. A sweet smell reached her nose, making her draw in a deeper breath.

"You smell nice," Gloria said without thinking.

Bede stilled, looking at her in surprise.

"I, uh, assume it's you," Gloria added quickly. "There's a sweet smell in the air, I just noticed it."

Bede turned back to the book, having reached a page full of sentences for him to translate into Kalosian. Gloria leant forward to cover the answers with her arm again, still tasting that delicate scent on her tongue. It filled her lungs with every breath.

"That would be the perfume from our sponsors that you're smelling," Bede said. "We had a meeting with them earlier where they showcased their latest blends."

"It smells really nice," Gloria said, sighing faintly to herself. "Too bad perfume's exceedingly expensive. Even with my Champion's salary, I don't think I could justify buying it."

"If you like it so much, you can have the sample I was given," Bede said, "in exchange for your assistance today."

Gloria perked up. "Wait, really? Are you sure?"

The satisfied grin on Bede's face made her heart flutter. "That is, of course, if you don't mind smelling like me."

She gaped at him for a second, feeling herself flush. "Why- Why would I mind?"

"No reason," he said with a shrug. "Although, people might begin to talk if you go around smelling like me."

"Talk about what?"

"About what exactly the Champion of Galar was doing with Ballonlea's Gym Leader in order for his perfume to get all over her."

Gloria sucked in a sharp breath as Bede's insinuation hit her in the chest. The smirk on his face set her nerves alight, her mind already conjuring images fueled by their kiss a few days ago. Bede's close proximity to her now did nothing to help.

"They- They wouldn't think that!" Gloria protested.

"Are you sure about that?" He turned to face her completely, amusement gleaming in his eyes. "All anyone saw was you following me into this storage room. We've been in here a while already, and there is a lock on the door if, perhaps, the occupants wanted some privacy…"

Gloria shot a glance towards the door. Her heart wedged in her throat, blood roaring through her veins.

"After all, we've already kissed twice-"

She slapped her hands across Bede's mouth before he could say anything more. His shock quickly turned to annoyance, and he took hold of her wrists to pull her hands away.

"Don't- Don't mention that…!" Gloria hissed, glaring at him as her cheeks burned. She fought his attempts to tug her hands off his mouth. "You need to forget that ever happened!"

Despite Bede's obvious displeasure at being silenced, he raised an eyebrow at her as if to say her demand was ridiculous. She knew it was, but couldn't bear to have Bede mention what happened between them out loud. The mere thought of their kiss was dangerous enough by itself.

Bede's expression changed, shifting from irritation to one she couldn't read, and in the next moment, he tugged Gloria towards him by her wrists. Pulled from her chair, she ended up practically on Bede's lap, one of her knees wedged between his thighs, and her bark of protest died in her throat at the feeling of Bede pressing his lips to the inside of her wrist. His lips were soft yet firm. Sweet warmth scorched her skin, making her pulse spike beneath his kiss, and he held her gaze, looking deep into her eyes over the top of her wrist.

An incoherent noise fled Gloria's lungs. "Wh-Wh-What are you-?!" She broke off into a squeak as Bede grazed his teeth over her pulse. She jolted away from him, tearing her arms free, and fell backwards over her chair to crash to the floor. She scrambled to sit up, holding her wrist protectively to her chest. Ignoring the pain thrumming from her shoulders, her back, and her legs from her fall.

"Sorry," Bede said, shifting the chair she'd toppled over to the side. His smile carried no amusement, eyes softening with regret, and he offered her his hand. "I didn't realise you'd react so strongly. I was merely trying to prevent you from silencing me so forcefully again. It's not exactly polite to smother someone's mouth when they're speaking."

"It-It's not polite to k-kiss someone's wrist either!" Gloria squawked at him. She glanced suspiciously between his hand and his face, trying to read his expression.

"I assure you I won't kiss you again," Bede said. A hint of a smile played on his lips, and she went to accept his hand. "Unless you want me to, that is."

Before Gloria could tug her hand back, Bede pulled her to her feet, and she ended up standing right in front of him. Barely a breath remained between them.

"I-I don't," Gloria said in a voice that didn't sound like her- like a whisper, breathless and light.

Bede looked into her eyes for a moment longer. "That's a shame," he said, before returning to his seat. The teasing lilt of his voice sent her heart racing again, and she huffed, as though incredulous. As though a part of her didn't want him to kiss her again.

A part of her that was getting smaller and smaller every day.

"Are you alright, by the way?" he asked as she sat beside him. "That was a pretty impressive fall."

Gloria gave a sheepish laugh. She still felt flustered from the way he'd kissed her wrist- her stacking it was inconsequential.

"That was nothing," she said. "I'll be fine."

Bede glanced at her. The amusement that had played in his eyes had all but faded. "I see."

"What?"

He looked away. "It's nothing." A moment later, he said, "you don't need to stay any longer. I believe I can manage the rest by myself."

Gloria's heart plopped into her stomach. It felt like he'd knocked the wind out of her chest.

"Are you sure? Don't you want me to test you…?"

Bede flipped open the dictionary again, a pen in his left hand, returning to the notebook he'd written in earlier. A few empty seconds ticked by.

"It will be better for me to study in silence," Bede said finally.

Gloria stood. She stepped around him as her throat tightened, and snatched her bag off the floor.

"Right." Heat built behind her eyes. She forced it down, forced her walls back in place. Forced a layer of cold steel around her heart.

Bede didn't look at her.

"I'll… just go, then," she said, unable to hide the hardness of her voice, and marched for the door. Gloria didn't look back once as the world blurred around her beneath a wave of tears.

Once again, Gloria fled from the Fairy Gym as she began to cry. Once again, her mind raced with thoughts. Why had Bede suddenly pushed her away like that? What had she done wrong?

Why did it hurt so much?

She knew why. It was love. The one thing she despised, the one thing she feared above all else. It opened her heart up to injuries she'd never faced before. The slightest rebuff from Bede left her wounded, as though his words, him merely turning away from her, had cut into her flesh.

She was pathetic. Weak. Vulnerable.

That was what love did to a person.

And she hated it. She hated being in love with Bede. It spoiled their friendship, tarnished each and every interaction they had. Even her memories were tainted now, coated in a different light, permanently changed. It twisted everything Bede said.

Despite the joy being in love brought her, Gloria wished she could tear out her heart and throw it away, before she did something she regretted.

Before it was too late.

Gloria marched through Ballonlea until she was out of sight by the entrance to the Glimwood Tangle, and reached into her bag. She dug out her Corviknight's Pokeball, ready to flee. Someone caught her wrist. She turned instinctively, tears spilling from her eyes before she could blink them away. Bede stood before her, breathless, his hand around the wrist that held her Pokeball. The Galarian cuff he wore around his wrist brushed against her skin. The bracelet she'd given him.

"What-?" She gaped at Bede in shock. He frowned at her, lips twisting in frustration, as he caught his breath.

"You're crying," he said. Confused. Concerned. A myriad of emotions flashed behind his eyes.

Gloria swiped the tears off her cheeks with her free hand. "So?" she huffed.

"I'm-" Bede started, fumbling over his words. He took a breath. "That's because of me, isn't it?"

Gloria said nothing. Her chest, her lungs, her heart, burned with a fire of indignation.

His expression fell. Her silence gave him the answer he was looking for, and he let her wrist drop. Gloria held tight to her Pokeball, but didn't send her Corviknight out. Not yet.

She hadn't expected him to follow her.

"You're not alright, are you?" Bede asked. He exhaled softly, casting his gaze aside. "Look, I… didn't mean to hurt you. I went too far. I'm sorry."

Gloria sniffled. Her tears began to fade, and she let herself study Bede for a moment. The regret in his eyes looked sincere, despite him getting the reason why she was crying wrong. She was so surprised by the whole situation, she didn't know how to reply. He hadn't realised how brushing her aside was what had wounded her, not him teasing her by kissing her wrist, not her falling backwards over her chair. The ache in her heart thrummed over her bruised muscles.

"Here," Bede said, holding out a small crystal bottle in his hand. It was shaped like a pair of delicate wings, a matching stopper at the top.

Gloria pocketed her Corviknight's Pokeball so she could accept it, and stared at the bottle in awe before realising what it was. "Is this the perfume…?"

"You said you liked the way it smelled, so…" Bede shrugged. "Take it as an apology. For hurting you."

Gloria's mouth dropped open with a protest she couldn't voice, her heart squeezing tight. Instead, she cradled the bottle close to her heart.

"Thank you," she said softly. "I accept your apology."

Bede nodded stiffly, still not facing her. The hurt, the regret, reflected in his eyes made her act on impulse, drawn by the desire to soften the pain he was feeling, and she stepped close to him, rising up on her toes.

And Bede turned to face her in that very second.

Gloria shot back with a squeak, almost dropping the perfume bottle as she slapped her hands over her mouth. Her lips tingled and burned.

"I-I didn't mean to-!" she stammered.

Bede stared at her in absolute shock, his eyes going wide, before he looked away hurriedly. He coughed into his hand and flushed to the tips of his ears. It had only been for a split second, but their lips had definitely met. Again.

"Of course. I know you didn't," Bede said, his voice cracking as he spoke.

Gloria stared at her feet as she blushed darkly, feeling her whole body burn with a dizzying heat. "I-I was going to kiss your cheek," she explained. "As- As a thank you. For the perfume…"

And she'd ended up kissing him on the lips instead.

"I-I see." Bede looked just as embarrassed as she felt.

"Please, can we… pretend this never happened…?" she asked, knowing it wasn't so simple. She wouldn't be able to forget this kiss, as accidental and brief as it was.

"Of course." He nodded quickly. "It was an accident, after all."

"Y-Yeah."

An accident that she couldn't wholy regret. Something stirred inside her, a longing to do that again, to kiss him properly this time, and she stamped it out quickly. As nice as it was to kiss Bede, they were friends. He didn't like her in that way.

Although… he had been the one to offer to kiss her the other day…

Gloria shook that thought away. She wanted to quash her feelings for Bede, not fuel them!

"I… I should get going," Gloria said.

"Not on your own Corviknight, I hope." Bede raised an eyebrow at her, and she looked away sheepishly. "Let me call you a Taxi."

"Thanks." She gave him a sheepish, but grateful, smile. As Bede ordered a Sky Taxi, the pain in Gloria's heart settled. Standing next to him, enjoying his presence, didn't feel so bad. She didn't mind passing the time with him, even if it meant doing something as mundane as waiting for a Sky Taxi together.

Her impatience faded. The softening of her heart felt so natural, she couldn't place when it was she had begun to feel like this towards him. When, exactly, she had fallen in love with him.

Perhaps untangling and discarding her feelings towards Bede would be more difficult than she'd thought.

#bederia week 2021 #bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #bede #gloria #btyu

45 notes · View notes

zensjagi · 4 years

Text

parting is such sweet sorrow

Written for @justagirlinafandomworld ‘s time travel challenge!!!

i’ve been rewatching doctor who lately so this is set late season 6, somewhere between episodes 13 and 14 in an AU where the reader (from our time) travelled with the doctor for a bit. for anyone who needs their memory jogged, the doctor thinks he’s about to die at lake silencio and only has a little while left before he has to go there.

Prompt: “Before I go, I just want you to know that I do love you. You were/are my everything.”

Pairing: Eleventh Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: angstttt

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━≾

He only had a few hours left, and there was only one thing he could even conceive of doing; one last loose thread to knot. And so, at 8 pm on a Tuesday, he turned up on her doorstep.

The windows were dark, but the porch light was still on. The Doctor swallowed the lump in his throat, raising a closed fist to the wooden door. He stood perfectly still, knuckles a hairsbreadth from the peeling, painted wood, but with every second that ticked by, he came no closer to knocking.

He could hear her crying.

Was it worth it, to ease her pain for a mere moment, only to magnify it the moment he left? Just so that he could see her, one last time? Was he really so selfish?

The Doctor took a shaky breath, eyes falling closed.

He knocked.

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━≾

You didn’t bother turning on the lights, but you left the porch light on and the front door unlocked, just in case. Not that he’d need it; not that a dark porch or locked door ever stopped him. But a small part of you could only hope that it would be invitation enough for him to come back; that if you acted like he’d return, then somehow, he’d walk right through your front door, face alight with a cheeky grin as he fixed his bow tie and rambled on of otherworldly beauties. As if any marvel could hold so much as a candle to him; the mad man with a box, a heart of gold, and a sonic screwdriver.

But your porch remained empty, and you sank numbly into the couch. He was gone. He wasn’t coming back; he’d… left.

“It’s too dangerous, Y/N. If not now, then when? When is the right time to say goodbye? When I’m standing over your broken body?”

You could still feel his harsh gaze clinging to you, the hardness of his voice as it lodged sharply into your chest. The warmth of his last hug, the flicker of softness in his eyes, and then… the cold emptiness that he left behind.

Clutching a pillow to your chest, you rattled a loose breath that broke into a sob, that turned into another, and suddenly, the despair caught up with you. Your chest hurt with every wretched cry, and you couldn’t breathe through the sheer hurt of it. Of the loneliness. Of the loss.

He really was gone, wasn’t he? And you’d never even told him that…

There was a knock at the door.

“Hellooo? Anyone home?” The voice was tight, lacking its usual flair, but its owner was unmistakable.

With tears still drying on your cheeks and a spark of hope blooming in your chest, you hurtled upright, tripping over your own feet in your rush to the door. It swung open before you could reach the doorknob, and you stopped in your tracks.

He stood there like one of Michelangelo’s angels, a portrait of silhouetted, elegant solemnity, haloed by the warm yellow porchlight. The Doctor’s eyes met yours, the corners of them crinkling as his gaze softened in something almost reminiscent of pity.

“It’s—it’s you?” Your voice came as a gasp so quiet it was almost lost in the space between you, but he still heard it. He always heard you.

“It’s me,” he confirmed, a sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Can I come in?” His hand was still resting tentatively on the doorknob, and there was a solemness in his eyes that you weren’t sure you’d ever seen before.

“You—you just left,” you said, avoiding his question. “Like, an hour ago. Why—why are you here?”

The Doctor paused, gaze flicking to the floor. “That was… a while ago, for me,” he admitted, voice soft and captured by the whisper of the evening air. “I came because… I have something I need to do. And… I needed to say goodbye.”

“A while? How long? What do you need to do? Doctor, what are you talking about?” Your heart pounded—his seriousness was making you nervous, the exhausted energy that radiated off him draining and perturbing.

“A while…” He chuckled. “Well, I guess my while is a fair bit different to yours, eh? You’re only human… you all shine so brightly, but only for a short while. I… I’m very old, Y/N.” He avoided your eyes, and something in his voice broke you.

“Doctor… come inside. Let’s talk, yeah?”

“Talk…” A tiny smile crossed his face. “Yes, let’s talk. I always did enjoy our talks. I’ve missed them.”

You smiled back, albeit uncertainly. “Yeah, me too. I’m gonna put some tea on… sit down, okay?” You waited for him to take a seat before heading to the kitchen, mind heavy with rumination. He seemed… vulnerable, in a way you’d never seen him before. Like his mind was worlds away, lost in a time both so long ago and so far in the future.

The kettle squealed, and you jumped.

Hands weighed with two steaming mugs, you walked back to the living room, half expecting him to be gone when you arrived. However, there he sat, still as a statue, just as you had left him.

“Here.” Your voice was gentle, but it still pulled his eyes up quicker than lightning. You handed him his tea, sat down next to him, and waited.

The two of you sat in silence for a long while; you finished your tea, while the Doctor’s full mug grew cold in his hands.

“Thank you,” he said suddenly.

You blinked, observing him questioningly.

“For the tea,” he clarified. “Very nice. You always did make good tea…”

“Doctor… you’re scaring me. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Scaring you? Oh. I didn’t... my head? Oh, sweet Y/N, that isn’t a place you want to visit.” He chuckled darkly.

Slowly, you rested your hand over his. Despite the lingering warmth of the mug, his fingers were cold. You squeezed his hand gently, and the Doctor stared at your skin on his, soft and warm, like a comforting memory that only rears its head in your darkest moments.

“Why are you here?” you asked again.

The Doctor closed his eyes. “To say goodbye.”

“Goodbye? To... me? Did something happen?”

The Doctor shook his head. “Not yet. But it will. But then, I suppose it already has. Not to you. Well, not yet. We all die one day, after all, don’t we?”

“Doctor. What are you talking about?”

“Nothing... nothing for you to worry about. It’s been, and it will be. Tell me... what year is it? What year did I leave you in?”

“It’s 2020,” you said.

The Doctor winced. “Oh. Sorry. Of all the years to leave you...”

“Hey, it’s interesting to be in a historical event in my own timeline for a change,” you replied, and he chuckled again; a genuine one, this time.

“Oh, Y/N. You always have been the optimist, haven’t you?”

“So have you.” You squeezed his hand, and he set his mug on the table with his free hand, squeezing your fingers back.

“Thank you,” he murmured. The Doctor’s eyes finally met yours, and his eyes were damp. “I didn’t want to leave you, you know. I... I never want to leave you. That’s exactly why I had to.”

“Doctor...”

He squeezed his eyes shut, rubbing the palms of his hands over them before inhaling deeply and smiling. “Well, this has been nice, hasn’t it? I should head off; places to be, things to do, you know?”

The Timelord leapt to his feet, suddenly brimming with forced energy, and you followed his hasty path to the front door.

“Doctor, you can’t just—you can’t just leave like that, not again. Not without at least telling me what’s going on. It’s not fair.”

His smile wavered. “I... I know. But I’m selfish; I should never have come here in the first place, I just... I just needed to see you.”

“Why me?” you asked softly. “Why not... why not Amy? Or- or even Rose, or Martha, or Donna? Why come here?”

The Doctor closed his eyes, shaking his head. “I can’t...”

You touched his arm, and his eyes bore into yours.

“You’re different, Y/N. You always have been; you know that. Sweet, sweet Y/N, with the warmest human heart of all. You only have one heart, but you care far more for others than my two hearts ever could.”

“That’s not true,” you protested, and the Doctor smiled, placing a gentle finger over your lips.

“It is. I’m old, Y/N. I’m an old, selfish man. I’m not a hero. I’m not...” He swallowed, and shook his head for the umpteenth time.

“Doctor. Why did you come to see me?” you asked, one last time. “What’s made you so down and reflective?”

“Who doesn’t want to spend their last hours with the person they love?” the Doctor finally murmured, and your heart all but stopped.

“Last hours? What are you talking about? Wait—love?”

The Doctor smiled, resting his hand on your cheek. “Everything has it’s time, Y/N. Even me.” And suddenly, his arms were around your shoulders, pulling you into his chest.

He was warm, and smelled just as he always did; faintly of leather, of old books and untold stories. You buried your face into the shoulder of his tweed jacket, the fabric softer than it looked on your still-tearstained cheeks. A pair of lips settled against your hair, and moved to your forehead when the Doctor inevitably withdrew; he never was one for lengthy hugs.

His lips left your skin, but your chest was still flush against his, your eyes finding his own as your white knuckled fists grasped the back of his coat.

“I love you, you know,” you whispered. “And I know that you’re doing to be okay. You’re going to work this out; everything is going to be fine. You’re the Doctor. You always save the day.”

“Not always.” His voice was brittle, on the verge of breaking.

“Well, you always saved me. Every day; not just when we got ourselves into trouble. Every day after meeting you... I wanted to wake up in the morning. You showed me the whole universe; different planets, different times... but none of that would have mattered if it wasn’t you I was with. You showed me how to be myself, Doctor; how to find my spark again. You saved me.”

The Doctor smiled, his hand cupping your cheek. “Oh, Y/N... I didn’t save you. You did that all by yourself. I was just the taxi.”

You shook your head vehemently. “Doctor...”

“Y/N,” he whispered, his thumb rubbing gently over your cheekbone, the corner of your mouth, your lower lip... You could feel his warm breath on your nose, feel those piercing eyes as they sought yours, and slowly, tentatively, finally...

He kissed you.

Your mind froze, but as he moved to pull away you finally melted into him, grabbing his lapels and tugging him back as your mouth sealed over his. The Doctor’s hands were on your waist, your cheek, his lips soft and insistent as he held you tightly to his chest. You sighed into his caress, and even when he pulled away, he couldn’t help but place a few soft, lingering pecks to your swollen lips.

“I should leave,” he whispered, his eyes closed and forehead pressed against yours. “I’m sorry.”

“Doctor, please...”

“I’m sorry. But, before I go... I just want you to know that I do love you. You were my everything. The last star in a lonely man’s empty universe. Thank you, Y/N. Promise me you’ll take care.” His voice was barely audible, his breathing unsteady as he cupped your face in both hands.

You nodded, pushing on tip-toe to place one last kiss to his lips. “Promise. You too, okay? Please, Doctor. Please stay safe. Find a way.”

The Doctor smiled sadly, but didn’t reply. “Goodbye, my sweet Y/N,” he breathed eventually. “I know you’ll have the most beautiful life. Enjoy it.”

Before you could reply, he turned and left, leaving nothing but a swinging door behind him. You watched him walk around the corner without looking back, standing in the empty doorway with your hand over the light switch. In the distance, you heard the wheeze of the TARDIS engine slowly fade into a dying breeze.

The porch light flickered, and finally went dark.

≿━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━≾

thanku for reading !! pls reblog/comment if u got this far, it means a lot!! xx

#yvettestimetravelchallenge #doctor who #doctor who fanfic #eleventh doctor #dw #eleventh doctor x reader #dw fic #dw fanfic #my writing

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krispy-dream · 4 years

Text

Twice Forgotten, Always Remembered

Title: Twice Forgotten, Always Remembered

Relationships: Tubbo & Ranboo (platonic)

Words: 7,202

Rating: G or T? It's a little spooky and there's a suggestive joke here and there but it's pretty SFW. No strong language.

No strong angst, it's mostly boys bein boys!!

Read on Ao3 (CLICK THE SOURCE LINK!!) or click Read More!

Ranboo swallows thickly as he witnesses a massive spruce branch crash through the dense layer of ice coating a nearby lake, his restless gaze darting across the terrain while the whistling wind hammers incessantly against his eardrums. Violent white flurries conceal much of the world from sight, and Ranboo's eyes lock onto anything and everything he can discern against the blizzard. He is disquieted by a gentle tap on his elbow, focus snapping towards the source at honed speeds. The muscles around his shoulders and neck slack momentarily when he catches sight of Tubbo, both of them dodging eye contact while Tubbo takes a step back to give the startled half-enderman some room to breathe before piping up.

"Do you plan to spend your whole visit looking out the window?" Tubbo's voice seems louder than it needs to be. "We'll be stuck inside here for a while, you may as well enjoy yourself."

A short huff passes Ranboo's lips before he crosses his arms, gloved fingers thrumming against himself in a furtive attempt to relax his nerves. "If your idea of enjoying myself is anything like last time, I think I'll pass." Tubbo's mouth turns downwards at the sentiment, a hand raising to his chin in contemplation.

"Ranboo. We're friends, right?" Ranboo's mouth goes agape for a moment before shutting tight, his brows knitting together in thought. Tubbo takes this as a cue to keep going. "I consider you a friend, you know. I wouldn't make you uncomfortable on purpose." Tubbo steps closer to Ranboo, his gaze searching the humanoid boy's face in an attempt to discern his feelings. "Do you never get curious of the differences between us, Ranboo? Like, biologically?" Ranboo's brow peaks at this one, skeptical eyes peering down at Tubbo.

"I'm not sure I like where this is going," Ranboo warns, and Tubbo splutters before tightly shutting his eyes and pointing both fingers at them.

"Like this, you see?" Tubbo opens his eyes again in time to see Ranboo scrunching his nose at the sight. "You don't have eyelids, why is that?"

Ranboo tilts his head, an incredulous expression painting his features. "I wasn't born with any." He almost stops there, but Tubbo's disappointed pout breaks him just enough to add "My eyes don't need moisture like yours do."

"What about protecting them from the elements?" Ranboo shrugs.

"I just don't have them, Tubbo. I'm not a biologist."

"Wait - don't you cry? And pee? So you have water in your body, right?" Tubbo jabs Ranboo in the arm while his eyes wander his body up and down. "That must suck! How are you not, like, corroding from the inside out?"

"I'd like to go back to watching the storm," Ranboo announces, once again turning towards the window.

"No, wait! I'm sorry, I just... I don't know, I guess I think you're interesting, in a cool way, you know?" Tubbo watches in dismay as Ranboo tenses his jaw, making a point to keep his eyes fixated away from Tubbo. "You could ask me any questions about my body if you want! I'd be happy to share..." Tubbo bites his lip, cringing at his own wording. "That sounds kind of weird, doesn't it? Not that I would mind if you asked something weird! As long as it's fair, like an 'I'll show you mine if you show me yours' kinda thing." Tubbo takes note of how Ranboo's lip twitches up in amusement when he says this and rakes his mind for something that would encourage words. "You know, when I was a kid I was absolutely terrified of endermen. But now I think they're kinda cute, so thanks for that."

This works. "Pff. 'When I was a kid'? You're still a kid." Tubbo's triumphant smile falters almost immediately as he processes the words that fall from Ranboo's mouth.

"Hey, I'm older than you! And you know what I meant!"

Ranboo shakes his head, turning away from the window to examine his cluttered indoor surroundings. "What building is this, anyway? I don't remember it being here last time I came over." Tubbo wants to call him out for changing the subject so abruptly but reckons it's safer if he doesn't press on the matter - at least Ranboo wants to talk now. The blizzard started so suddenly, the two of them had run into the nearest building that appeared somewhat safe. It happened to be one that Ranboo had never been inside before, as well as one that made Tubbo a little... nervous.

"It was always here - in fact, it was abandoned long before I even settled. But it was just a rundown shack, and now I've fixed it up a bit. Oh!" Tubbo slaps a fist into his open palm, smiling up at Ranboo with bright, mischievous eyes. "I actually never finished exploring the cellar. It's probably safer down there anyway, would you like to check it out?"

Ranboo hums, scanning the floor of the room until he catches sight of an awkwardly placed carpet. "Is that it?" He doesn't wait for a response, kneeling over the beige square and allowing his hand to hover over it. He's got no clue how clean it is, but his hands are tucked away inside a pair of gloves that make him feel comfortable enough to touch it regardless. Unsurprisingly, moving the carpet off to the side reveals an old, cracked trapdoor that Tubbo has evidently yet to replace.

"I suppose I didn't hide it all that well," Tubbo joins Ranboo in kneeling over the piece of spruce wood that would likely be more useful to them as kindling. "I've taken a peek, but... well, it's a bit scary, if I'm honest."

Tubbo's gaze locks on the trapdoor, his calloused fingers dancing across the splintery wood only to stop at the edge he's meant to lift at. He taps gently on it, picking at the corner with his thumb in a fashion that Ranboo easily detects as stalling. Ranboo doesn't interfere, taking this as an opportunity to observe Tubbo's mannerisms. Ranboo isn't one to be particularly curious about the nuances of any species, but Tubbo has always been somewhat perplexing on an individual level. Like his tendency to, seemingly unintentionally, say things with vastly inappropriate connotations - or the way he'll cower at the smallest threat while having no quarrels with taking out a hoard of zombies on a particularly rough venture. The way he can construct an entire town overnight and still have the energy for... unethical experimentation. He really is a piece of work - and he's somebody that Ranboo enjoys spending time with, despite the occasional conflicts of interest.

And right now he's nervous to go into his own cellar. "What's down there?" Ranboo takes note of the way Tubbo jumps at the sound of his voice, fingers gripping the trapdoor tightly to ground himself.

"Well, not much." Tubbo lifts the trapdoor carefully, a creaking sound echoing down into the dark shoot it uncovers. There's enough light at the bottom for them to see that it isn't incredibly deep and that the room at the bottom is walled with cracked stone bricks. "I may have left a lantern down there last time because I didn't want to turn my back on the darkness... you know how that is, right Ranboo?"

Instead of agreeing, Ranboo chuckles. He truly does get it, but when the world is as dangerous as it is, a dark abandoned cellar can easily be the least of someone's worries. "Do you want me to go down first?" Tubbo appears to seriously consider Ranboo's offer before a look of determination crosses his face and he climbs in without a word. "I didn't mean for that to be a challenge or anything," Ranboo calls down after him, pouting and following suit when he doesn't receive a response.

The ceiling of the room they climb down into is significantly lower than the ground floor - some kind of perfect middle ground that forces Ranboo to hunch over while simultaneously allowing Tubbo to stand up perfectly straight with more than enough breathing room. So... about 180cm. A lantern lies on its side in the middle of the room, casting dark shadows into the corners. Despite being forcibly hunched over, the room isn't too uncomfortable or creepy to Ranboo at all - that is, until he notices the perturbed expression Tubbo is aiming at the lantern. "Is there a problem?" Tubbo is nodding before the question has entirely left Ranboo's mouth, panicked eyes scanning their surroundings as if the walls are whispering to him. It's just a barren stone room with a stained white cot and an ominous spruce door on the far wall.

"This isn't where I left the lantern." Shadows dance across the room as Tubbo carefully lifts the once-forgotten lantern off the floor, aiming it up at Ranboo so that he could see the half-enderman's face clearly despite the darkness. Ranboo instinctively turns his head away - a passing thought informs Tubbo that Ranboo's eyes may have high light sensitivity when compared to a human's, but he manages to avoid acknowledging this for now. "I had it hung on that hook over there," Tubbo points towards the door with the same hand holding his lantern, lighting up the area enough to reveal a thin, cobweb-coated chain hanging near the spruce door. A rusted hook is attached at the bottom of the chain, and some disturbing thoughts of what that may have been used for in the past fill both boys' minds.

Ranboo takes a cautious step past Tubbo, one of his hands fidgeting with the hem of his oversized suit jacket as he releases a shaky breath. "It must have fallen." He may or may not believe his own words. The two lock eyes for once and Tubbo finds that he has to fight an urge to freeze under such a pointed gaze. Underneath it, however, he can tell Ranboo is just as frightened as himself.

"It couldn't have. Not unless someone was down here." Tubbo's eyes snap over to fixate on the door and his voice quiets as though he's afraid of being overheard - "I haven't opened that yet... too scary."

A few beats of silence pass between the boys before Ranboo takes another step towards the door, his hand gripping the handle with all the courage he can muster. The door rattles against his touch and something behind it stirs, scuttling away before he's even cracked it ajar. Tubbo shouts, the lantern slipping from his grip and clattering to the floor while he dashes to comfort himself by burying his face in Ranboo's back, allowing his arms to coil around him.

It's silent, both of them failing to move after the commotion passes.

Ranboo is the first to speak up. "Maybe I should hold the lantern."

A brief debate is settled with Ranboo doing exactly that, much to Tubbo's initial dismay. Ranboo reminds him that they're both well equipped to handle anything they come across down here, but it's difficult to hold onto that thought when your environment is so incredibly unwelcoming. Once they've eventually opened the spruce door they're met with a narrow, unfinished tunnel through dirt and stone. "Why would a door lead to this?" Tubbo turns up his nose, glaring into the darkness with disdain. "I expected a hall."

"Maybe there used to be one here," Ranboo suggests, ducking into the cramped tunnel. Sometimes he's jealous of shorter folk. Not often, but sometimes.

"It's a pretty tight fit, huh?" Tubbo leans away from the entrance, wringing his hands together. "Maybe I should just wait for you - AAH-!" A crash reverberates from outside the cellar and Tubbo slips into the tunnel after Ranboo, slamming the door shut behind him. "Never mind! Start walking, Ranboo, I'm right behind you!" Ranboo can't help the smile he cracks when Tubbo reacts to what he assumes is just another tree branch falling to the blizzard outside, but he saves the teasing for later. For now, they've got a bit of spelunking to do.

The tunnel is suspiciously well worn, not nearly as difficult to traverse as it first appeared to be. The end splits into two branches, and Tubbo's heart sinks when he realizes that he can just barely make out even more branches at the ends of them. "Are you thinking the same as me, big man?"

"Maybe..." Ranboo mumbles, flinching at a distant crunching sound. "I'm thinking we're not alone. You?"

"I think this is a whole tunnel system," Tubbo gulps, his hand unconsciously wandering to grip the base of Ranboo's jacket.

A low-pitched hissing sound echoes down the tunnels from the right, and as soon as a shadowed figure becomes visible the lantern is once again on the floor, this time extinguishing the light inside. The two boys make a dash for the door, taking turns shoving each other in an attempt to make it out safely in the pitch darkness. Tubbo trips on his way out, adrenaline continuing to escalate until he hears Ranboo shut the door securely behind them. "You're okay," Ranboo reassures between breaths, and while Tubbo understands that this is likely intended as self-reassurance, he tries his best to be comforted by it as well.

The light coming down from the trapdoor isn't enough for Tubbo to see anything in the room other than Ranboo's eyes, but Ranboo appears to have little to no issue seeing while he helps Tubbo back onto his feet. Tubbo has a difficult time restraining himself this time. "Can endermen see in the dark?"

Ranboo freezes briefly before letting go of Tubbo's arms, an exasperated chuckle escaping him. "Even after all that, you're still thinking about our biological differences?"

"Well I can't SEE anything right now, and you're just calm!"

"What? You're looking right at me!"

"Your eyes are GLOWING, Ranboo!!"

"Tubbo, I don't mean to alarm you, but there's something living under your house."

"I GOT THAT, THANK YOU."

Chapter 2 - Spelunking 2: Electric Boogaloo

It turns out Ranboo's eyes are capable of seeing much more acutely in low lighting than Tubbo's - he can easily discern colors in the dark and had been wholly unaware that humans grappled with such menial tasks.

"That might explain why some people describe desaturated colors as 'darker'." Ranboo dips his head, swaying back in his seat on Tubbo's cot. "That reveals a lot, actually. I always thought of 'night vision' potions as a pretty bizarre niche, but it turns out that my eyes are just better."

"We don't know that!" Tubbo crosses his arms, stirring against the wall in his spot on the floor. "There might be something our eyes can do that yours can't, right?"

Ranboo takes a second to ponder this, working a gloved finger along his cheekbone and up the rim of his eye socket in quiet contemplation. "You can shut them, I guess." He peers at Tubbo, his sights resting thoughtfully along the outer edges of Tubbo's eyes that appear so different from his own. "It looks very strange to me, but it seems useful."

"Do eyelids unsettle you?" Tubbo grimaces, peeling his eyes open with his fingers. "Because to us you look very wide-eyed all the time, it can be creepy. Especially when you're asleep."

"I wouldn't say it's unsettling," Ranboo says, making a snap decision to brush off Tubbo's comment about him being creepy. "Most species I run into have them, so I'm used to seeing them. It's just strange looking when I focus on it, that's all."

"I suppose I could get used to the lack of them if we hung out more." Tubbo grins. "I enjoy your company, I hope you know that." A peculiar warmth washes over Ranboo when Tubbo expresses this. "I know I get on your nerves sometimes, but I really don't mean to. I promise."

Ranboo reflects on Tubbo's heartfelt claim before a sneaky suspicion catches up to him. "You have another weird enderman biology question, don't you?"

"Well!" Tubbo raises his arms dramatically. "What are ender pearls, exactly? You would know!"

"Huh??" Ranboo twists over onto his stomach, inclining off the cot to scrutinize Tubbo's demeanor. "You're serious?" Every second Ranboo spends observing Tubbo's expression, the more it clouds over with humiliation. He sincerely doesn't know what an ender pearl is.

"I know that people get them from endermen!" Tubbo shields his face with his hands, his voice becoming quiet. "And I know you can use them to teleport, but what part of the enderman is it?" He peeps out between his fingers to check if Ranboo is still judging him.

As an act of charity, Ranboo decides to attempt an explanation. They lock eyes and Ranboo conceals his red one, breathing deeply to pacify the nerves that spike in response to his instinctual enderman brain trying to persuade him that Tubbo is going to strike him. "I have one here." Ranboo points at his green eye with the same hand cloaking his red one, his other arm preoccupied with supporting his position on Tubbo's cot.

Tubbo's eyelids flutter in bewilderment before he drops his hands from his face, using them to wriggle closer to Ranboo. "Your eye?" Tubbo's face grows painfully close to Ranboo's, but he doesn't appear to take notice of this, much less the sharp gasp Ranboo releases in reaction to their unexpected proximity. "Are you saying people pull the eyes out of endermen? That's messed up!" Tubbo's exclamation is timed flawlessly with a resounding crash from the blizzard outside, the strong winds startling Ranboo into hastily pulling his hand from his face and using it to shove Tubbo's away from him. He takes a deep breath, dismissing the way Tubbo topples over.

"Teleportation is all in the eye. At least for a full enderman, it is. They teleport where they're looking." Tubbo dramatically flails on the floor before sitting back up, grumbling softly to himself. "I think that most endermen don't realize humans can't teleport, so they feel threatened when you look at them as a challenger." He tilts his head. "But humans kill them for their eyes, so can you blame them?"

Tubbo promptly rams away his gut feeling that Ranboo may very well harbor genuine malice towards humankind for this behavior, and opts to instead propose a simple question. "Why are they a different color?"

Ranboo's face drops. "Because they're not glowing with that purple light anymore." The way he states this makes it sound obvious, yet Tubbo presumes that he's concealing a deeper explanation.

"Your eye is green, though. Do you know why?" Ranboo shakes his head before sitting upright and fidgeting with the hem of his gloves.

"I can't tell you that..." Ranboo likes to think of himself as immoveable - not easily swayed. But even the subtle disheartened glances Tubbo aims at him can break him down little by little, and some days he's especially susceptible to it. So he provides a little bit more. "I can tell you that there was once a point in time where all of them had eyes like this, but nowadays they'd need some repairing to get there."

It's only now that Tubbo is struck by the realization endermen knew their own history and were able to share it with Ranboo - so they must also have goals. Goals, aspirations and plans that Ranboo isn't authorized to share with him or any other human. He has so many questions, but Ranboo has chosen to spend time with humans and help them instead, so maybe he should simply be appreciative of that and savor Ranboo's company while he can. "Ranboo..." Tubbo stands up, dusting himself off. "I think I'm ready to face whatever is in those tunnels." His apprehensive eyes wander Ranboo's frame as he slips out of Tubbo's spare cot. "As long as you're willing to join me?"

Ranboo's lip curls up in amusement while he sizes Tubbo up, slipping off his gloves to reveal thin, clawed fingers that resemble more that of an enderman than a human's. The way he pops his knuckles is much unlike an enderman however, and Tubbo can't help but find it striking how one of his hands is splattered with white blotches that become more abundant around the hem of his sleeve. "Don't worry Tubbo, I'll protect you," Ranboo teases, earning a scowl out of Tubbo while he tousles the shorter teen's hair.

"Thanks, big man (derogatory), but I'll be the one doing the protecting, I think!" Tubbo grabs a worn diamond helmet from his nightstand and haphazardly yanks it over his head, effectively obscuring his vision by pushing hair over his eyes.

"We're armoring up for this?" Ranboo intends to tease Tubbo, but he can't disguise the relief in his tone - he's hardly comfortable taking his armor off inside the safety of this building, but Tubbo had insisted he did so once it became clear the blizzard wouldn't be passing anytime soon.

It takes a while for the both of them to get into all of their armor - perhaps they're stalling, but at least they'll be safer this way. "What if it's friendly?" Ranboo suggests as they kneel over the trapdoor once again, earning an elevated brow and a very pointed look from Tubbo.

"It hissed and chased us down a dark tunnel." Tubbo pauses, his hands resting across the top of the trapdoor. "Wait, could you see it?" Ranboo nods slowly.

"Yeah, a little. It's like, some kind of spider." Tubbo gapes.

"I've killed loads of those! Why didn't you tell me that earlier?"

"Well, it's not JUST a spider! It's something different, it's just... spider-like."

Tubbo rolls his eyes. "Well if it looks like a spider, it'll die like a spider. Let's go!" With newfound determination, Tubbo drops down into the cellar once again.

Ranboo is less sure of himself but climbs down into the cramped space shortly after. "Maybe we shouldn't jump straight to killing it, though. What if it has a family?" Tubbo stops at the door, igniting a torch before shifting to look up at Ranboo.

"True," Tubbo starts slowly, humming as he weighs their options. "We'll capture it now, and decide what to do from there."

Ranboo bends towards Tubbo clumsily, his shoulder bumping into the chain hanging from the ceiling hard enough to make it rattle noisily. "And how do you plan to capture it?" He lifts an eyebrow. "No way you're going to overpower it."

"Well, I have... this!" Tubbo pulls out the rope hanging from his belt, presenting it arrogantly for a moment before his smile falters. "Eh, I could use this as well actually." Ranboo accepts the lit torch Tubbo hands over to him and his face shifts from bemusement to shock as Tubbo grabs hold of the chain and tears it hard enough for it to snap off the ceiling, slinging it over his shoulder while wearing an entirely nonchalant mien. "I'm sure we'll figure something out when we run into it."

Ranboo is still gawking when Tubbo swings the old spruce door open and turns to him expectantly, urging Ranboo to find words. "You're not nervous at all?"

"It's just a spider! And you have the light, so go in first please." His sentence ends more timidly than it begins, giving Ranboo the impression that his method of resolution is sheer forced willpower. That should be sufficient though, and Ranboo does his best to replicate this energy when he steps into the tunnel. Full netherite makes him nearly indestructible even when things get the jump on him - he should be perfectly fine! Tubbo clearly has a mental advantage, as he's managed to convince himself that this creature is JUST a spider, whereas Ranboo knows first-hand that it's much more threatening than one.

They don't need to travel far to start hearing muffled scuttling in the distance, but it's impossible to determine where it's coming from. Ranboo startles when he feels something clutch his free hand but eases up when he recognizes it as Tubbo attempting to compose himself. He curls his fingers around Tubbo's, moderately surprised by how rough they feel without his gloves on. They don't feel like the hands of someone who would be nervous in this scenario, but It's not as if Ranboo looks like someone who would be afraid either. Perhaps the two boys aren't so dissimilar.

Ranboo hesitates when his foot comes in contact with something metal resting on the ground, peering down to see the now twice-forgotten lantern extinguished in the darkness. "Ah, whoops," Ranboo feels a tad guilty for leaving it here but knows Tubbo would have done the same. He dismisses the disappointed noise coming from Tubbo's direction when he separates their hands to pick up the lantern, using the torch to reignite it before offering it to Tubbo. "Maybe holding this will help..." Ranboo mutters, and Tubbo handles it appreciatively.

Tubbo gazes at the lantern for a while before inspecting the entrances of both branches in the tunnel. "Should we split up?" This question understandably takes Ranboo off guard.

"Split up?" Ranboo waves the torch at Tubbo, who backs away barely in time to not have his clothes singed. He wants to scold Ranboo for trusting his reflexes too much, but it doesn't appear to be a good time for that. "I think we're good like this, thanks." Tubbo shrugs, turning his nose up away from Ranboo. "Besides, you're the only one with equipment to trap it."

"You're a giant! Just grab it!"

"GRAB IT? No way!"

Their bickering is cut short when the unsettling hiss from earlier returns and Ranboo's immediate reaction is to deliberately extinguish his torch, seemingly to get a better look at the creature that is now peering around the corner of the tunnel they're standing at the mouth of. This action perplexes Tubbo - can Ranboo see BETTER in low lighting? Ugh! Now isn't the time! Tubbo speaks up softly, wary that the creature could possibly rush them at any instant. "Should we wait for it to come to us?"

Ranboo releases the extinguished torch stick and unsheaths his sword, hazy lilac swirls dripping from the enchanted weapon and dissipating into the air as he holds it steady in front of him. "Well, you have the light." Tubbo tenses his jaw, understanding that Ranboo is entrusting him to personally make the first move.

The creature's infinite eyes are scarcely visible to Tubbo, and he's profoundly disturbed by the mass burden weighing on him as it observes him shifting the chain from his shoulder so that he can fasten it to his waistband. He maneuvers the rope from a hook on his belt, swapping it out for the lantern so his hands are free to handle the rope with more precision. "You better back me up," Tubbo mutters, methodically arranging the rope in his hands while his face scrunches up in concentration.

"I'm right behind you." Tubbo takes Ranboo's word as a cue to move, gradually invading the tunnel and squinting in an effort to make out the creature's form. It sounds another warning hiss before thin, glistening black pincers reveal themselves. Tubbo squeaks in alarm but covers it by clearing his throat. It hasn't made any sudden movements, but the more it exposes itself the more Tubbo feels like he needs to retreat.

Ranboo sounds surprisingly calm from behind him. "Careful, that looks venomous." Tubbo juts a lip out, glowering at the creature. He would glare at Ranboo, but he doesn't exactly want to let this entity out of his sights.

"What ARE you?" He doesn't know what he expects from asking this giant arachnid monstrosity questions, but it sure isn't entertained by it. The creature dashes out and it takes every thread of Tubbo's being to hold his ground. It's definitely not... 'just a spider.' He lassoes the pincers without a hitch, but this isn't as much of a hindrance to the creature as he first hoped. "It has a- AH-!" Tubbo barely evades a massive scorpion-like stinger, eyes wide as he observes it wriggling around, lodged into the wall near his torso. He acts on the first thought that comes to his mind, ripping the chain from his waistband and hooking it into the tail - rusty iron splitting through the creature's compacted flesh and evoking a loud, blood-curdling cry.

Tubbo recoils and staggers away from the shriek, his grasp on the chain slipping. He's able to keep hold of the rope, but when the creature succeeds in dislodging its tail from the wall it only becomes more deadly with a dense iron chain swaying from it. It's got six wiry legs, mobility only restricted due to Tubbo's hold on its pincers. He's run out of ideas by the time it's lurching at him again, his reflexes being the only thing that save him when the stinger comes at his face head-on and he manages to free one of his hands to seize its tail at arm's length. He pulls up on the rope while slipping a foot onto what he understands to be the creature's face, another loud hiss filling the tunnel from the hostile beast. "Ranboo! Do something!" Tubbo grinds his teeth, adrenaline working as his sole savior while the creature strives to wrestle its stinger out of his waning grip.

When the tail inevitably slips from Tubbo's hand he truly believes it's over for him, moving to cover his face while his other hand grips the rope impossibly tight for emotional support. His eyes are sealed shut before he hears the chain clattering to the floor, and it takes a few ticks for the implication of that to sink in.

"Ranboo?" Tubbo blinks his eyes open, adapting to the sight manifesting itself in front of him. The creature is still grappling with his grip, but it's manageable - Ranboo has lodged his sword through one of the chain links and into the tunnel floor, restricting the tail's movement almost entirely.

Ranboo's hands shift across the handle of his blade as he kneels down, dangling his head while he takes a deep breath. "Sorry, I... froze a little. I should have helped sooner." Despite the throbbing pace of his heartbeat, Tubbo can only manage a languid sigh of relief.

"You can make up for it by helping me contain this."

Chapter 3 - Guest Room Away From Home

Tubbo allows his body to topple into a half-meter of snow, unphased by the icy winds lashing his nose and cheeks. He hasn't had a proper opportunity to rest for hours, and it's beginning to catch up to him.

Ranboo peers down at him, brushing his once-again gloved hands close to his chest to keep warm. "You don't plan to leave it in there, right?" Ranboo stoops down to gaze into the shed's barred window, sulking when he catches sight of the restrained creature huddled in the corner. "You didn't even give it any food."

"She has water!" Tubbo throws his hands in the air as he sits up, watching Ranboo with an expectant gaze. "And I'm going to find out what she likes to eat once Mr. Manifold gets back from his top-secret mission." Ranboo doesn't trouble himself with asking any questions concerning the top-secret mission, instead choosing to wordlessly take hold of Tubbo's arms and pull him to his feet. "This is a temporary holding space as well, I'll build something more comfortable for her once the weather calms down some more."

"That's fair, the wind is making the cold much harder to bear," Ranboo says, neglecting to let go of Tubbo's arms once he's risen. "And I hate the feeling of snow melting against my skin." Tubbo nods in understanding, taking notice of the subtle shivering he can feel through their hand-to-arm contact.

"I'll fashion you a proper jacket for your next visit," Tubbo grins, tearing his arms out of Ranboo's hold so that he can run his hands across the collar of Ranboo's suit jacket. Ranboo recoils, rigidly stumbling away from the unexpected contact. "Oops," Tubbo chuckles, clutching Ranboo's hand with both of his instead, an action Ranboo doesn't protest. "Let me take your measurements!" Tubbo brings Ranboo's hand up to his chest in a begging movement, gazing up at him with his deep, puppy-like eyes. "Please?"

"You really don't have to do that-"

"PLEASE, Ranboo! Let me take your measurements and make you a luxurious Snowchester jacket, we could be matching!"

Ranboo caves to this request after little resistance, Tubbo eagerly hauling him back into the only building they had cleared a path to through the snow. Ranboo winces while witnessing Tubbo thoughtlessly cast his diamond helmet into a pile of leftover wooden planks, allowing his severely fractured chestplate to clatter against the floorboards. He leaves his legplates and greaves on, to which Ranboo is sincerely thankful he doesn't need to watch Tubbo mishandle more valuable equipment.

"Alright!" Tubbo kneels down to rummage through a spruce chest, drawing out a long, charcoal-marked woolen cloth. "If you don't mind, I need you down to your shirt for this." Ranboo nods, gingerly placing his helmet and chestplate on the armor stand by the door. Tubbo speaks up again, the words forcing Ranboo to momentarily lock up before slowly turning to gawk at the shorter teen.

"What was that?" He asks incredulously, eyebrows shooting up when Tubbo responds by turning a deep red.

"Wait, that sounded really weird - I just meant-"

"Did you just say 'I like it when you undress for me,' or am I beginning to develop severe auditory processing issues?"

"I phrased that VERY poorly!" Tubbo drops the wool cloth and holds up his hands in submission, redness refusing to leave his features from both the cold and mortification.

"Do I even want to know what you meant?"

"Yes!" Tubbo moves to grab Ranboo's jacket sleeve, distressed by the way Ranboo dodges this motion while eyeing him warily. "I just meant that I'm happy you trust me enough to take your armor off!" Tubbo reasons, crossing his arms over his chest and stomping in a manner that has the lantern on his belt rattling against his legplates. "I know you don't feel very safe without it."

"How does 'I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough around me to remove your netherite armor' become 'I like it when you undress for me,' Tubbo?"

"I don't know! I swear I'm not like this on purpose," Tubbo holds his face in his hands, twisting away from the half-enderman that stands in his doorway. "Just take the jacket off. I promise I won't make it weird."

A heavy piece of fabric is draped over Tubbo's head and shoulders, startling him out of his daze. He doesn't expect it to be Ranboo's jacket, but that's exactly what he sees when he pulls it off to inspect it at arm's length. "It's bigger than I thought," he pronounces plainly, and Ranboo suppresses a laugh. Tubbo's eyes snap up to meet Ranboo's "What's funny about that?"

"Nothing," Ranboo lies, clearing his throat to regain his composure. "Just - let's get this over with, I guess."

Tubbo slings the jacket over his shoulder and picks the woolen strip off the floor before swinging to round up the stairs that sat in the corner of the cluttered room. "Right, just come with me."

"Now you're having me join you in your bedroom," Ranboo remarks, an amused smile dancing across his features while Tubbo stumbles ahead of him.

"There are no stools down there, okay?" Tubbo is enthusiastically holding out his measuring cloth when Ranboo enters the bedroom, patting the edge of his cot. "I just need you to sit on the bed so I can reach better."

"You're being so forward," Ranboo teases, and this time Tubbo rolls his eyes.

"Now who's making it weird, big man? I'm trying to do something nice for you!"

"Oh yeah you are."

"Yeah, I am!! Sit on the bed!" He pulls Ranboo by the arm, forcing the enderboy to half-stumble into a sitting position on the edge of his cot, netherite greaves clanking against the hardwood floor as his legs fold uncomfortably in the low seat. "This shouldn't take long," he says, crawling behind Ranboo and spreading the cloth along his broad shoulders.

"Probably not a good idea to sit on the bed with your shoes on like that," Ranboo comments, craning his neck to catch a glimpse of Tubbo's focused expression.

It takes a moment for Tubbo to register Ranboo's remark, but he answers readily once it sinks in. "Nobody actually sleeps here." Tubbo compels Ranboo's arm out, measuring the length of his shirt sleeve while murmuring the measurements to himself repeatedly. Ranboo decides not to intervene, knowing that he could scuff the measurements if he distracts Tubbo now.

Once Tubbo has recorded a few numbers on a crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, Ranboo pipes up again. "You put a bed in a building nobody sleeps in?"

"Yeah, I suppose you could think of it as a guest bedroom." Tubbo slides out of the cot, dusting off the spot he had been sitting in before Ranboo sprawls out into it, slinging his arms out above him.

"Welp, it's small, but it'll do!" Ranboo laughs, and Tubbo raises a hand to his chin in deliberation.

"Do you want to stay here, by any chance?" Ranboo covers his face with an arm, a lighthearted sigh passing his lips.

"We've been over this. Living in settlements like this doesn't end well for me."

Tubbo huffs, opening his arms. "I'm not asking you to move in, I'm just offering to reserve this guest room for you." He glances at the window, darkness creeping in as the sun sets over the horizon. "And for you to stay the night here, so you don't have to travel until morning."

Ranboo chuckles. "You know what? Sure." He peers up at Tubbo from his position lying in the cot, propping himself up on his elbow to get a clearer view of the human boy's welcoming demeanor. "It's not my house though, alright?" Tubbo pumps his fist triumphantly.

"Yeah, it's my house!" Tubbo agrees, whirling on his heel to scuffle down the stairs. "I'm still writing 'Ranboo my Beloved' on the welcome mat, though." Ranboo falls back onto the cot, smiling to himself momentarily before he rolls off to follow Tubbo down to the ground floor.

"You're armoring up again?" Ranboo asks, visibly alarming Tubbo while he struggles to tie his chestplate back on.

"Oh, I just have some things I need to take care of before Mr. Manifold returns tonight." He runs a hand over the back of his neck, and Ranboo notices that he's hung his suit jacket over the second armor stand he perpetually fails to make proper use of. "You're free to stay here, make yourself... at home..." Tubbo worries his lip clumsily, forgetting his helmet abandoned on the floor when he swings open the front door. The lantern on his hip illuminates the front porch, alerting Ranboo to how quickly the daylight is slipping away. "Or you can wander around a bit if that's your thing. I trust you not to go into any restricted areas." Tubbo simpers sweetly, securing the door behind him before Ranboo has an opportunity to react.

"What an odd little man," Ranboo notes, his brow furrowing at the closed door. He doesn't sleep very well that night.

Energetic knocking rouses Ranboo from a night of light sleep, his heart racing thanks to a dream that he can scarcely recall coupled with his foreign surroundings - an uncomfortably small cot in a confined bedroom, the window on the far wall being the only sign he's above ground. "Ranboo!" Tubbo calls, stifled by the walls that separate them. Ranboo's lips part to welcome a jittery breath as the memories fall into place, his eyes darting to meet the staircase he wouldn't have known to look for a minute ago.

"Ranboo, my beloved! Are you up - oh!" Tubbo's eyes brighten when Ranboo opens the door for him, a broad smile gracing his lips. "Good morning, sunshine!" Ranboo huffs, failing to contain the smile he catches from Tubbo's infectious attitude.

"Good morning Tubbo." Ranboo can't help notice how Tubbo is underdressed for the weather, his armor and vest missing from his usual Snowchester attire. "Aren't you cold?" Tubbo welcomes himself inside, stretching his arms above his head before he kneels down in front of the furnace.

"I've been shoveling snow all morning, gets the blood pumping. WOO!" Tubbo shakes his hands in front of the furnace, beaming over at Ranboo. "My hands are numb!"

"Well I'm gonna head out before you ask me to help you with that," Ranboo says, seizing his suit jacket from the armor stand and tugging it over his shoulders, fastening the buttons as he speaks. "Thanks for letting me stay overnight, it's been... nice. I enjoy your company. I think."

"Ah wait!" Tubbo scrambles to his feet, pressing his hands out to signal Ranboo to stop. "Don't leave yet, I have something for you!" He slips outside without further notice, leaving Ranboo to halt in bewilderment before he finishes armoring up and waits anxiously for the human boy to return.

It doesn't take long, and this time Tubbo enters the building without knocking. A perplexed look crosses Ranboo's features as he peers at Tubbo, who now stands empty-handed in front of him. "So... we haven't finished that jacket I promised just yet, but I, uh," Tubbo chuckles restlessly, his fingers tugging loosely at his collar. "You remember the cellar, right? And the creature we captured together?"

Ranboo needs to think on that for a moment but can recall it well enough. "Yeah, and then we spent hours wrangling it into a holding cell." Ranboo inclines towards Tubbo skeptically. "I don't... want the animal, Tubbo."

Tubbo squints, compressing his lips together in an attempt to stop a laugh from escaping. "I wasn't going to pawn her off to you, don't worry," Tubbo reassures, glancing down at the lantern secured to his belt. That wasn't there when he came in earlier, was it? "I wanted to thank you for helping me with that, it would've been a lot more difficult without you." His hands travel down to the lantern, carefully unfastening it from his belt and holding it up between the two of them with both hands. "The one who holds this light makes the first move... In combat, I mean. That's a signal we decided on yesterday, and it's something only the two of us would understand."

"You're... giving me a lantern?" Ranboo asks, accepting it from Tubbo and holding it up to get a closer look.

"Think of it as a memento of sorts." Tubbo rocks back on his heels, his gaze focused on Ranboo as the taller boy gives him a slow nod.

Despite everything, Ranboo trusts himself to remember what this lantern means. A memento of his bond with Tubbo, and a way to convey an idea between the two of them that nobody else will understand.

The next time Ranboo sees a lantern lying forgotten on a cave floor, he thinks of Tubbo. Even though, at that moment, he can't quite recall why.

#dream smp fanfiction #tubbo fanfic #ranboo fanfic #snowchester #dsmp fic #krispysfics #long post #fanfiction #dream smp #I've never posted fics to tumblr forgive me if I did this incorrectly #I really cobbled this together too it's not my best work but I hope someone likes it

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