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boygiwrites · 1 year

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Harley D. Dixon 11

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

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Author's Note. I'm sorry for the long wait, but at least this chapter is a lengthy-(ish) one, at 6,200 words! :)

Please enjoy!

A twig snaps.

When I open my eyes, it's still night-time. The moon bathes the forest floor in a pearly blue light, just bright enough for me to make out what's happening when I lift my head from the tree roots. A bulky, black silhouette groans loudly as it staggers toward the tree. A walker. A big walker, wearing a white cap. Just as I suck in a breath, ducking back down to hide, it trips over its own two feet and lands on its stomach like a big, fat seal, on top of the entanglement of roots. It lazily claws down at me with its grey-ish hands through the gaps.

I feel around for a rock, pulling one out from the dirt. I toss it away from the tree. I hear it tumble down the hill. The walker gives it a slow backwards glance, but little-girl-meat must taste a whole lot better than rocks, 'cause he turns his attention right back onto me.

He resumes moaning.

Darn.

Looks like I'm stuck with this jerk until he leaves on his own.

"Goodnight, I guess."

I close my eyes, settling back down in the dirt to try get some sleep as he flails above me.

Morning comes.

My eyes flutter open at the first sign of daylight. It filters past the roots like white-gold ribbons, onto my face. I slowly come to. I almost expect to be back in Dad's truck, wrapped up in the fish-print blanket, but the dream quickly vanishes when my skin begins to itch and my back begins to hurt. Right. The woods. The mosquitos. The ditch beneath the tree. I'm still lost and alone. I hear birds twittering in the trees.

Dirty and exhausted, I sit up.

My new friend, the asshole-walker, moved a little in the night, I see. He's rolled over onto his side, laying dormant.

I sigh, my eyes heavy. If only he did that last night.

I take my time crawling out from underneath the tree, and then I stand all the way up and stretch out my arms— God, that feels real good — and then my legs — That feels even better — and gaze out over the misty greenery around me. Wow. I made it through the night. A good start. I walk down to the stream and rinse my bug bites in the cool water, enjoying the way it burns. I'm thirsty, I realize, as I watch the water bubble past. I can't drink it, though, 'cause this is where foxes and birds and frogs poop and pee all day, and it'll make me sick. I can use the mud, though. It's thick, and runny. I smear it over my face and my neck, 'cause it's gonna get hot today, and I'll burn easily.

I pick the twigs and leaves out my hair.

When I look back up the shallow hill, I see the walker is on its feet.

"Fuck you," I call out to it, and then turn on my heels.

I follow the stream for hours.

The sun climbs in the sky.

My Dad got lost in the woods, too, once.

The way Grandpappy Dixon always told it, my Dad went missin' for nine whole days as a child. He ate wild berries, drank pond-water, and wiped his butt with poison oak to survive, and when he eventually stumbled his way back home, the first thing he did was walk straight into the kitchen and make himself a ham and cheese sandwich. My Pappy used to say that Dixons are like cockroaches. They're tough, they're mangy, and just when you think they're gone, they pop right back up again. I'm a Dixon, just like my Dad. I know how to find North, and I know which mushrooms will make ya go green and puke your brains out, and which ones won't. It's been one day for me so far. The only difference is I got people lookin' for me. I'd call that an advantage.

I also know what poison oak looks like. Three leaves, notched edges. No way I'm makin' that mistake. Ouch!

I scale a small mound that clings to the bank of the stream, sweating through my shirt like a hog. I was right. It's gettin' real hot today.

When I stand, I notice a still, black lump amongst the underbrush.

I decide to check it out.

I push back a fern, revealing the lump.

It's a really, really old walker.

Its body is shrivelled and thin like a rotten fruit skin, and it's laying on its back, staring up at the sky with glazed eyes, with its entire chest cavity torn to shreds around it. It's innards hum with flies, gooey and black like thick tar. I almost retch. It smells like every type of yoghurt in the world got mixed with dead fish brains.

I look around the tiny clearing.

I see boot-prints leading to and from the corpse.

Oh. The group.

This must have been them.

Eugh. Why?

I also see tiny bones littered around the place, which prolly came from the walker's stomach, which is flipped inside out on its thigh, which makes me gag. It looks like it's been sliced. They cut open its stomach and pulled out the bones, I realize, which deserves another gag. It's nasty, but at least they saw that none of the bones were Harley-sized. They know this walker didn't eat me up.

Disturbed, I find my way back to the stream and push on.

No walker's gonna eat me up.

I ain't never killed a walker, but I done killed a lotta other things.

Startin' small, I killed plenty of bugs before. Easy, peasy. Movin' up the food chain a little, I shot a rat with a sling shot, before. Its itty-bitty brain exploded around the pebble I flung at it, and that was that. Crunch. Dead. Then, fish. Lots of fish. So many fishing weekends. Apparently, fish don't got no feelings, so that makes it easier. Then, squirrels and possums. My Dad always makes me finish those off when he can, 'cause he says it makes me tough, and I ought to be tough. I don't like the sinking of the blade through their fluffy pelt, or the sad little squeak that comes when they die, but that's just how it is. It's how we ate when money was tight. Then, biggest of all, there's a walker. A full-grown, human person.

I haven't made it there, yet.

My Dad hasn't taught me to kill walkers like he's taught me to kill game. I know what to do in an emergency — You gotta stick 'em in the brain, Harley — but that's it. An emergency hasn't happened, yet, 'cause my Dad's always been there to kill 'em for me.

I won't let anything happen to you, I remember Shane telling me.

I bet he's already found a way to blame this all on my Dad.

I wonder if they've fought today.

Sophia's doll.

I find it caught on a branch in the water.

Dizzy from the heat of the sun, I stumble into the stream to try and fish it out.

By now, it's around mid-day, and I've tied my hair back into a pony-tail, soaked my shirt through with water about two miles back to try cool myself down, and scratched my mosquito bites completely raw. I've eaten a handful of wild raspberries and drank some water from a hole I dug adjacent to the stream, 'cause that's how you filter out the animal-germs, but I'm beyond tired. And against my best efforts, a little sun-burnt, too, all over my upper body. There's been no sign of anyone since the mutilated walker, but this— This is Sophia's doll. It's got orange yarn for hair, and two giant, blue buttons for eyes. It's definitely hers.

Matilda, I think she named it.

I lean over the fallen branch and pull the soggy doll out.

"Hi, Matilda. You're lost, too?"

I wonder if Sophia dropped her while searching.

"Don't worry." I smile, tucking her wet hair behind her round ears; petting the mud off her patchwork dress. "I'll get us both back."

I climb back outta the stream.

"This way, Matilda."

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I come to a sudden stop sometime in the afternoon.

"You come and go, you come and go-o-o."

That's music. Like... from a radio. As the static-y popstar voice continues singing loving would be easy, if your colors were like my dreams, I step through the dry foliage in the direction it's coming from and come across a tiny, green tent. The owner is nowhere to be seen, but the radio hasn't had time to run out of battery, so they might still be nearby. I scan the trees. No one around.

I cautiously step inside the tent.

There's the radio.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma—"

I search around.

There's also a sleeping bag and a backpack. I sift through it for food or water, but there's only junk in here. A book, a crucifix, another music cassette tape, rope, and... And a steak knife. I pull it out, turning it over in my palm. It's the exact same as the ones in Dale's kitchen drawers.

Black handle, gold button.

This.. I recognise this.

Jim.

This is Jim's knife. This is knife we left him with.

That's the same rope, too.

"Oh, my God."

I back out, taking the knife with me. I take in the camp again with new eyes, feeling alarmed. The cap resting on the stump by the fire, that's Jim's, too. Those foot-prints, those discarded boots — They're both about the right size. Over there, too, that's — That's the peanut butter jar.

It's all Jim's.

This is Jim's camp.

He's alive.

"I'm a man, without conviction!"

If he's alive, he's gonna be real angry with us.

"Karma, karma, karma, karma, karma chameleon!"

I ca— I can't be here.

I spin around and dash straight for the thicket, more than ready to leave this camp far, far behind, but I run into something — Fabric, and string, a makeshift washing line — and as I'm tryna untangle myself from it, a pair of hands shoot out from the other side. They latch onto me. The shirts are ripped off the line as I struggle against them. I can't help it — I scream, and I scream loud. It's Jim, it's Jim, it's— No, no it's not Jim. It's not even a person. It's grey skin and bruised nails and yellow eyes and puffy gums, and jaws snapping in my face.

It's a walker.

It's wearing a white cap.

It's the same one from last night. It's been following me through the forest all day.

It slams me into the ground.

I brace my arms against the heavy walker's chest, crying out in pain. Underneath me, wetness begins to bloom. Then, pain. Searing, searing pain. As I writhe, I drag around a trail of blood that stains the dirt a dark maroon. I look at it, panicked. I can feel a deep slice in my flesh.

I-I think I landed on the knife when I fell.

God, it hurts. It hurts real, real bad.

The walker hisses like a feral cat.

My fingers slide against its slippery, bloody skin as I grapple with it, kicking, kicking, kicking its stomach, and hitting, hitting, hitting its chest. The skin comes apart as easily as layers of lasagna. It peels off and falls onto my bare neck — Oh my God, yuck, yuck, yuck! — and my fingers sink deeper into the soft meat underneath. Cold, red sludge drips down onto my cheek. I turn, squirm; clamp my mouth shut. I use all my might to keep the walker's weight offa me, but I can't keep this up forever.

The knife. Where's the knife?

I dropped it somewhere.

I throw my hand out and feel around for the knife. My arm buckles under the walker, which drops closer to my face, growling and twitching just an inch from my nose. That's a leaf. That's a twig. That's the tin. Come on, come on. The knife. I need the knife.

I squeal when my foot suddenly breaks through the walker's belly.

Slimy entrails slide down my leg.

I moan miserably.

That's a twig.

That's another twig.

That's—

That's a knife hilt.

I wrap my fingers around it.

I have to kill this thing now.

With a violence I don't recognise, I swing the knife all the way down into the base of the walker's neck and then again, and again, and again, and again, again, again, in the collarbone, and the cheek, and the throat, and the shoulder, and then the soft membrane of the under-jaw, which splits open like a water balloon and splatters me with more sticky blood, like cold, chunky soup, and again, again, and again, in the chin, and the nose, and the forehead, but not the brain, 'cause the skull is just too thick to break through. I think about all the times I've heard of skulls breaking, like in car crashes, and I think, why can't you break again, just break now. I drive it into the scalp, again, again, again, but it doesn't work. You gotta stick it in the brain, Harley. I gotta get the brain. I gotta.

The meat hanging from the walker's jaw vibrates as it gurgles at me.

"Come on!" I grind out, losing my strength.

This is when somebody like Rick or Dad or Shane would step in and end it for me, in this moment right before death, but nobody's here to save me this time. I have to save me.

I cry out once more.

The knife squelches through the walker's eye socket.

I drive it deeper and deeper and deeper, until the blade reaches the sweet spot, and pink brain-slime comes leaking out. I twist it and I twist it and I twist it, forcing the razor-edge up into the socket, until the hilt starts to disappear, until my hand starts to disappear. Until—

Until the walker gives out one last croak.

It slumps over into the dirt.

It's dead.

I scramble away, clutching the knife, shaking.

My first walker kill. It weren't nothin' like killing a damn squirrel, not even a little bit, not by a mile. It ain't squeaked. The damn thing squelched. It had layers of skin and meat and bone and cartilage, and I felt them all with my bare hands, and I killed it.

I killed it all on my own.

"I killed you." I laugh, elated. "I killed you! Fuck you!"

Hell yeah!

My side suddenly pangs again, making me groan.

I peel my bloody shirt back.

"Oh, God."

It's a gash, alright. I won the fight, but now I'm gonna have to drag myself through the woods, alone, with this crippling wound in my side. I groan as I take off my shirt. It's still wet. It's bloody, too, now, so I throw it away. As my vision blots, I pick up a new one off the ground and lethargically pull it on, wanting so badly all of a sudden to just lay down and go to sleep. I can barely keep my eyes open.

I cradle my side as I stand.

Chunks of walker-flesh fall off my leg.

There's blood in my hair, on my face, on my neck, on my hands.

I look around for Matilda, 'cause even though I'm about to faint, I know I don't wanna leave her behind. Sophia needs her. I find the doll laying by the fire and pick her up, leaving behind a bright red hand-print on her pretty tartan dress by accident.

"Oh," I pant, shaking my head. "I'm sorry."

"Red and go-old! Red and go-old!"

I hug Matilda to my chest.

"It's okay. Carol will wash it."

The radio continues singing its happy tune as I stagger away.

The hours blend together in a long, hot slurry of sweat, heat, and blood. Barely conscious, I stumble alongside the stream, holding my bleeding side. I have to be close, by now. I've been walking for hours. I focus on my breathing. I focus on walking. I focus on keeping the setting sun on my left shoulder, to ensure I'm headed North. I think I can hear church bells ringing through the forest at some point, but I'm not sure.

It's all so confusing.

Next thing I know, my knees are hitting the ground.

It takes me a while to figure it out, but I realize that I've fallen down a small slope and landed in a watery ditch filled with reeds.

Cold water trickles silently past my hot skin.

I gaze up at the orange sky.

It's nice here. It's so nice here.

I let my exhaustion seduce me into closing my eyes.

I need rest.

I can... I can rest for a minute.

"You don't gotta follow me out here, man."

"I know."

When I open my eyes, woken by the sound of voices, it's night-time again. I must've slept for a long time. My entire side aches when I roll onto my back, trying to see what's going on up there. Through the thin shoots of grass, I glimpse a band of white flashlight illuminating the distant trees.

Those— Those voices. I'd recognise them anywhere. It's my Dad and Rick.

I listen to their foot-steps crunch through the underbrush with a grin on my face.

"You can't drag me back to the highway, so yer gonna babysit me instead? That it?"

"Well, you know I'd prefer you get some rest, like everyone else." Rick replies. Never thought I'd say it, but it's so good to hear his stupid voice. "Trying to, at least. We've been searching non-stop, for I don't even know how long. We can't afford anyone else gettin' lost out here, especially in the dark. Even Shane settled down, eventually, and you know how he's been."

I hear Dad scoff. "Yeah, well, there's no way I'm takin' a fuckin' granny nap while my daughter's lost in the woods."

"Trust me, I'm done tryna convince you. Hence, the babysitting."

"To Hell with Shane, anyway, man." Dad says. "Don't need him out here."

"What the deal between you two, anyway?"

"Whatchu mean?"

"I mean, look at you. Shane gave you a black eye today. He wouldn't do that for no reason."

"Yeah," Dad sighs tiredly, "Well, I gave him a broken nose, and I wouldn't do that for no reason, neither, so think about that."

A black eye?

A broken nose?

They did get into a fight today.

"Okay, I'll think about it. I'll think about it aloud, even." Rick concedes. My Dad huffs but lets him continue speaking. "Since you joined us, you and Shane have avoided each other like the plague. You work well together — I've seen it — but as people, you don't get along so great. That's how it used to be. Suddenly — As in, this is the first time I'm seein' this — You're throwin' hands for no reason, in the middle of the night. Black eye, broken nose. I mean— Well, it just don't make any sense to me, is all I'm saying. Like I said, Shane ain't like this, usually."

"You must not know your buddy so well, then." Dad retorts. "'Cause he's a piece of work."

"Oh, no denyin' that." Rick chuckles flatly. "But I don't know why you're so insistent on buttin' heads right now. Especially right now."

"Hey." My Dad's voice gets louder. "I'm out here right now, runnin' on two hours'a sleep with a busted face and a fucked-up eye, combing these woods for my lil' girl — Who if I recall right, is lost 'cause of your fuckin' super-plan — So don't go tellin' me I ain't got my priorities straight, man. If I beat Shane up, it's 'cause he fuckin' deserved it. You heard the shit he said t'me, you would'a done the same. Father to father, I know that."

"H— What? What'd he say to you?"

"He said it's my fault Harley's out here." Dad snarls. "Said I don't protect her right. Said I ain't a good father to her."

Rick stammers. "Wow. That's both... way outta line, and not true at all. He's got no right to say those things."

That makes Dad almost laugh.

"Nah, man." He scoffs. "Nah, you don't know."

Nobody knows. Nobody besides me, Shane, and my Dad knows about what happened at the CDC.

"I do know." Rick insists, oblivious. "No, I'm bein' serious here. Listen. I've seen you with her. You'd do anythin' do protect her. 'Sides, you said it yourself. You're out here right now, even when others aren't — Even when it jeopardizes your own safety. A lesser man, lemme tell ya, would not be out here in the state you're in. I don't even know how you're still standin', to be honest."

Dad brushes him off. "Nah, you don't get it. It's not— It ain't about that."

"What's it about, then? 'Cause from where I'm standing, I— I honestly struggle to see what Shane's talkin' about."

"Wait."

Their foot-steps come to a sudden stop.

I hold my breath.

"Those are new tracks." My Dad mutters.

My eyes widen.

"You think it's—?"

"It's Harley." He says definitively. "Look. This set go South. This set's comin' our way. She's been following her own tracks back."

There's a pause, like they're shell-shocked and can't quite speak.

Yes. Yes, I have been followin' my own tracks. I slept in a ditch, and I walked for hours, and I killed my first walker and stabbed myself, and then I walked some more, and I'm tired. I'm so, so tired. I can't wait to go home. I can't wait to go back to the group. I can't wait to sleep with a proper pillow and blanket. I hear Dad and Rick's foot-steps suddenly kick back up again, and more of their hushed, intense voices, becoming louder and louder as they follow my most recent tracks. I hear foliage bein' trodden on and snapped. I hear my Dad calling out, Harley, baby, we're here, where are you, and then, finally, after two long days, I see their faces.

I can't believe it.

We've found each other.

As they skirt down the hill, calling my name, I slip back into unconsciousness.

The next morning, I'm woken by sunlight dancing across my closed lids. There's a soft pillow under my head. I feel heavy blankets wrapped around my aching body, and new change of dry clothes rubbing against my skin. I'm warm, and finally, I'm safe. When I open my eyes, groaning lightly, I'm greeted with the blurry sight of the RV bedroom, draped in yellow morning light.

Rick and my Dad must've carried me here last night.

I hear someone moving to my left.

"Daddy—?"

"It's me." Shane says, sitting up. Oh. I look up at him as he reaches for my hair, tucking some behind my ear. "You're okay."

My side pangs suddenly, making me groan again.

I lift up the covers, and then my shirt, revealing a patch of fresh bandages taped to my waist.

Shane shushes me. "Hey, easy."

They cleaned it up pretty good. There's only a small flower of blood stained through the cotton-y material.

"Hurts," I croak, closing my eyes.

"I bet." Shane soothes. "You got stitches under there."

I open them again. "Stitches?"

"Yeah. It's okay. You were in pretty gnarly shape when we gotcha; gash is real deep. Jacqui made quick work of it, though." He says, smiling lightly. "Nothin' we can do about the bug bites. Just gonna have to put up with 'em for now, but you're tough. I know you can do it."

Exhaling thinly, I slowly nod.

I take a minute to look at Shane like this.

A strip of white gauze is plastered over the bridge of his nose, which sits on an awkward, crooked angle. He notices me starin', but doesn't make me look away. He doesn't explain how it got broken, though, either. He just strokes my hair, letting me come to my own conclusions.

"Dad hit you." I whisper, stating it as a fact.

I heard Rick say so, last night.

Me and Shane have barely talked since that day in the parking lot. It's strange to say that we're friends, now, but we are.

He pulls his hand away. "Who told you that?"

I shrug.

He frowns lightly, eventually nodding. "Yeah, he did."

"You hit him back."

Again, he simply says, "Yeah, I did."

I could ask him why, but I already know that, too.

As the silence stretches on, his gaze drifts from my face, down to the floor. He leans forward to pick something up. It's Matilda. They brought her back, too. He holds her for a minute, looking over her orange hair and her green dress — Still covered in my blood — and then he hands her to me, muttering that she fell off the bed during the night. He watches me hug the doll to my chest with a distant sort of look in his eye. I wonder if he feels guilty, but he's prolly just tired. I heard Rick say they were searching for me non-stop these past two days, and that includes Shane.

It looks like he stayed awake all night, too, waiting by my bedside, which for some reason, my Dad didn't.

"Let me get you somethin' to eat." Shane murmurs.

He stands to leave, squeezing past Carol on his way out.

She stands in the doorway, looking at me with tender, puffy eyes. She glances at Matilda. I think she's been crying.

"You found Sophia's doll?" She asks me quietly.

Yeah, I did. I nod.

She comes to sit beside me on the bed, smiling weakly.

"May I?"

I hand her the doll.

"I'm sorry I got blood on it." I mutter. "It was an accident."

She shakes her head, breathing shakily.

"Don't be sorry, sweetie. We're just glad you made it back to us in one piece."

"Can I give her back to Sophia now?"

Carol takes a deep breath. "I don't think you can. Not right now."

Oh. "Why not?"

"Because, sweetie," Carol says, placing a little kiss on Matilda's cheek, and then facing me again, on the brink of tears, "After you were able to escape into the forest — After the herd passed — Sophia ran after you." That makes my eyes widen. Sophia ran after me? Into the woods? Carol purses her lips, so tight it must be painful. "Yes. Your Dad, Rick, Shane — They were already chasing after you, but Sophia just wouldn't give up. Sh— She broke away from me before I could catch her, and we— We haven't seen her since. We haven't seen her. We haven't."

Carol breaks down into squeaky, tiny sobs, clutching the doll to her forehead.

I don't know what to say. I had no idea that the whole time I was missing, Sophia was missing, too.

"I— I found the doll in the creek." I say, feeling unhelpful. "I don't know where exactly, but... In the creek."

Carol nods. "Thank you. Thank you, sweetie. I'll tell them."

"I'm sorry."

I'm sorry I can't help more. I didn't see any other signs of Sophia out there.

Sophia, lost and alone, just like I was — Except Sophia's never learnt how to find North. Sophia's never learnt which plants are safe to eat, or how to out-run a walker. She doesn't know how to start a fire from nothin', or how to wring a rabbit's neck. She doesn't know the stuff I know.

She doesn't have the same chances that I had, which were pretty darn low to begin with.

Carol puts her hand on my knee. "You've got nothing to be sorry for, Harley."

"I— I wanna look for her."

"You can't." She soothes. "You're hurt."

"Sophia might be hurt."

"Nobody's gonna let you look," Carol tells me, "So there's no point in arguing. You know, your Dad has been worried sick about you this whole time. He pretended he wasn't, but it was obvious. He didn't care about anything other than finding you. I saw him maybe one or two times these past couple days, because he's been in those woods for hours on end. Dale's been blaming himself for letting the herd get to us while he was distracted. Shane's been... a mess. Then, last night, your Dad and Rick came running back to the highway with you, and they were barely hanging on. They were covered in mud, in blood — Your blood — in sticks, leaves, scratches. They ran with you for five miles, Harley." Carol frowns. "It's a miracle you're with us. Trust me when I say nobody's letting you back out there anytime soon."

I lower my head, fiddling with the blanket seams.

Carol changes the subject by gently asking, "What happened out there?"

I look up at her.

"I... I just kept walking, I guess."

That's all I did. I walked, and walked, and walked. I wonder if that's what Sophia's doing.

"And I killed one of the dead people."

I can still feel his cold flesh sliding against mine, and how he smelt like old steak.

Carol stiffens.

"Sophia prolly won't run into any." I shake my head. "There was only one."

"Where there's one," She whispers, "There's a hundred."

I stay quiet.

Shane comes back in through the door, holding a bottle of water and some snacks.

"Here you go, sweetheart," He says to me under his breath. "Gotta eat if you want your strength back."

I take the yoghurt-granola bar and the packet of pretzels, but the thought of eating makes my stomach churn.

"Where's my Dad?" I ask instead.

He's the first person I expected to see when I woke up.

"He's still out looking." Carol answers, sighing. "After he found you, I thought I would've had to beg him to look for Sophia, but I didn't. He went on his own. I'm sure it's nothing, sweetie. He's just worried about Sophia, just like we all are, and he's going to find her. I know it."

My Dad's never shown concern for anyone other than his blood. I don't think he's as worried about Sophia as Carol thinks he is, 'cause I know him better than she does. I think back to the conversation I heard last night, and how my Dad almost admitted to Rick the reason he and Shane haven't been seein' eye to eye recently — Almost admitted to hitting me. I wish he would talk to me about it, instead of Rick, but that's not how my Dad operates. I know why he's still out in those woods. He's doin' anything he can to keep avoiding talking to me about the CDC, especially after the beating Shane gave him.

A wake-up call, is what it's called, I think. Shane gave him a wake-up call. Dad's bein' challenged, for the first time in his life.

Shane looks at me. I can tell he knows exactly what I'm thinking. He knows I've figured it out — Figured him out.

"I thought I told you not to help."

Shane goes still.

He glances at Carol, who frowns in confusion.

"What do you mean?" She asks me.

Please don't help, I begged him that day, Please don't do nothin'. Our conversation got cut off when Dale interrupted us, but I wish it hadn't. I wish I made myself more clear. Shane established that I'm allowed to be his friend, but he ain't established my Dad bein' the scum of the Earth, like I know he wants to. He prolly convinced my Dad that's what he is, which is why he's guilty, but he won't convince me. I'll be his friend, but I don't need this.

"I told you not to help." I repeat, a little harsher. "But you hit him, anyway."

"I— I did." Shane calmy nods. "After he swung at me — Broke my nose — I had to subdue him. I had to hit him back."

What a load of crap, I want to argue, You prolly hit him first.

"The fight?" Carol tilts her head. "How did you hear about that?"

I tear my eyes away from Shane's.

"Right before Dad and Rick found me, I heard 'em talkin'." I tell her truthfully. "Rick said Dad has a black eye, now."

"He does." Carol hums. "But you shouldn't worry about it. It's just men bein' men. Right, Shane?"

We both look at him expectantly.

"That's right." He agrees, tense. He's lucky Carol's so clueless, and just gave him an out. He claps his hands. "Now, how 'bout you try gettin' some'a that stuff down, and I'll see if I can't getchu some dessert for afterwards? Maybe a cookie, for our tough little cookie, here, huh?"

Carol smiles warmly. "One tough cookie, alright. Dragged yourself all the way back here with that gash in your side."

I try to smile back. "Uh-huh."

"Alright, then. Let's give her some space." Shane says.

Carol stands, tucking Matilda in besides me with great care. She strokes the doll's hair, and then mine. She even gives my cheek a kiss.

Shane nods her out the door.

After she leaves, he lingers there.

"You told me we could color together." He randomly reminds me. "I reckon I wanna take you up on that offer, later, if that's alright wit'chu."

Oh. He does? This is the first time he's brought this up since I decided he could be my friend, which I told him meant he could color with me, and do my hair, and play games with me. I don't know why he's decided so suddenly that he wants to do this. Maybe it's because my Dad is away.

I think about it for a time, but then I nod.

I don't see the harm in coloring.

Slowly, I nod.

He grins a little.

"I'll send Jacqui in to have a look atcher side in a little while." He says, before nodding, seemingly pleased. "Alright. See ya later, Harley."

"See ya later."

I hear him walk away.

Shane's got a way of makin' me like him, even when I don't wanna.

After I force down three bites of the granola bar, I lay back down, pulling the blankets up to my chin.

Matilda stares back at me with her giant button eyes.

"I'm sorry, Sophia." I murmur.

A short while later, I get a visitor.

"Somebody has a present for you." Lori sing-songs quietly as she guides a nervous-looking Carl into the bedroom. He clutches a large canvas bag to his chest, squeezing it tightly like a teddy-bear. There's a slight sunburn underneath his freckles, and a scab on his eyebrow, but he made it out of the herd just like everyone else did. I don't know Carl so well, but I'm real glad he's alright. I think he's sad about Sophia, and sad about me, too, 'cause his eyes begin to water the longer he stares at me. Lori rubs his back. "Off you go, baby."

He takes slow, calculated steps toward me, and stops about a foot away from the bed.

I notice him glancing at Matilda.

I tell him, "I'm gonna keep her until we can give her back to Sophia."

'Cause we're gonna find her. We're gonna.

He sniffles, nodding.

He likes that idea.

"I— I kept something for you, too." He sniffles. "While you were missing."

Lori hurries over to help me sit up properly, as Carl sits on the edge of the bed.

He carefully places the heavy bag over my lap.

I lay my hands down on it, feeling it out. It's hard. It's kinda crinkly. I look up at Carl, excitedly smiling at what I think is inside.

He's smilin', too, now. "Open it."

He scoots closer as I flip the bag open.

I laugh.

"No way! You got it!"

It's the Pokémon folder, in all its sparkly, yellow glory. The blood on the cover has been wiped away. It looks almost brand-new again, untouched by the horrors of that deadly afternoon. On the name-tag sticker, which was previously blank, is now written in bulky but neat letters, Harly Dikson.

"I had to ask your Dad how to spell your name." Carl says. "But he wouldn't answer. I hope I got it right."

Carl's never been good at spelling. The thought makes me laugh even harder.

Suddenly, I'm hugging him.

He hugs me back.

"He's been very eager to give those back to you." Lori smiles, her hip cocked as she watches on fondly. "He even slept with 'em the first night."

Carl pulls back. "Mo-om!"

She holds her hands up. "Sorry. Embarrassing?"

"It's okay." I giggle. I pull the Lugia card out of my pocket and show it to him. "I did, too."

He gets immediately excited again. "Woah! Another GX card!"

"Yep!"

"Here we go." Lori rolls her eyes.

We spend about half an hour going through the cards and snacking on pretzels together on the bed.

It's as we're on the last page that Lori gently takes hold of my shoulder.

"Harley," She says to me, "I know you're both having fun here, but I think it's time we all got together and... talked about what happened to you in those woods... Okay? We all think it's a good idea. We've been waiting to know ever since you got back, and... Carol says you killed a walker." She smiles tightly. "Would you like to go speak to us about everything? Get it off your chest? Maybe... help us piece everything together?"

I get the sense I don't got a choice in this. They need to understand what I went through; what signs of Sophia I came across.

She senses my answer, and stands, urging Carl out the door.

No more Pokémon cards.

Time to talk about Jim, and the stabbing, and the church bells, and everything else I endured in those Hellish woods.

I just wish my Dad would come back.

Author's Note. For some reason, I ssssstruggled with this chapter. Like, a lot. It's always the most random chapters that seem to kick my ass. Maybe it's because Harley was alone for the majority of it. I tried to make it interesting, nonetheless.

And here is the beginning of Sophia's whole shtick 🫥

Thank you for your patience, and I really hope you enjoyed reading this one!! <3

#the walking dead #twd fanfiction #twd #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daddy issues #rick grimes #shane walsh #angst #fanfic #reader #ao3 fanfic

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jeremy-queere · 1 year

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Oh wow - I just realized I should be advertising these here.

So, a friend Venus (aka V aka @nyx-bait) and I have been roleplaying for several years now. I got permission to post our RP logs on ao3 for archival purposes. But if anyone else is interested, it is Good Readin'.

The plot is a crossover between Be More Chill and a mobile game called Uta no Prince-sama - a rhythm game about Japanese pop idols. We wrote a scene of Jeremy meeting Ai, an android created to be an idol, at one of Ai's group's internationally-touring concerts. We weren't sure if they would get along or not.

But... they turned out to have the best chemistry of any couple I've ever written. So we kept writing. And writing. And writing some more.

The first chapter of the first fic about these two has an explanation on how to read roleplay logs if you're unfamiliar, as well as clarifying expectations.

For the most part, we've written Jeremy/Ai in that original universe discussed above. But we've also messed around with some AUs, including "Jeremy, an undergrad exchange student working as an intern, comes across Ai in his early-development stage as an AI" (coming soon) and "Ai's creators want to investigate this illicit tech on the market, sending Ai undercover as a high schooler in New Jersey to catch Jeremy, fully SQUIPped and spreading the pills as quickly as he can."

For those of you who enjoy my writing of Jeremy, Michael, and the SQUIP, I encourage you to check out "Is It Weird to Date the Evil Robotyrant in a Nerd's Body." (Venus is solely responsible for these great titles.) Like most RP logs, it's an unfinished story. But like I wrote in the intro notes, I really think it's worth reading for some fun asshole brainwashed Jeremy, undercover detective Ai, and SQUIP-truther Michael. Here's a taste:

Pay attention, the SQUIP snaps.

Jeremy takes a shaky breath and tears his gaze away from the guy he's been staring at intermittently for the last ten minutes of homeroom. It's not his fault, he thinks. That bright blue hair would capture anyone's attention. It's a good thing, too. Jeremy is relieved at anything that gets the school's focus off of him. What are the odds that this random high school in Newark would get two brand-new transfer students on the same day? Pretty low, Jeremy figures. It's even weirder that they'd both be drop-dead hot.

Jeremy can think that about himself now. It's not even an ego thing. It's an objective fact. The SQUIP has gone through every square inch of Jeremy's physical appearance, restructuring it from the bottom up and eliminating as many imperfections as is physically possible. Jeremy's hair is conditioned and gelled, his skin blemish-free, and the SQUIP gives him a little shock whenever he smiles crookedly. He's been trained to give a movie-star smile instead, one that shows off his bright white teeth.

This other student, though? He definitely doesn't have a SQUIP or they would have synced up the moment the guy stepped into the classroom. Either he was born with those good looks or he's got some amazing beauty-routine tricks up his sleeve. He's not even basking in the attention that he's earned, either. His thick lashes are brushing heavily against his cheek with every blink, his chin resting on a hand as he watches the teacher at the front of the classroom. He scans the room every now and again, and he's definitely locked eyes with Jeremy at least once. The SQUIP had Jeremy tilt his head with a devilish little smile instead of averting his eyes with a blush like he was inclined to do. It's a social faux pas to keep staring, but... damn.

Jeremy is sure it's the bright blue hair cascading down on one side of the guy's head with all the unchecked wild beauty of a waterfall that keeps distracting him. What else could it be?

Stand up and wave. Offer a tentative smile, but keep your back straight and your shoulders back so you look confident. The SQUIP's order seems to come out of nowhere, but Jeremy knows better than to question it. He obeys immediately, actually tuning in to the teacher as he stands.

"And our other transfer, Ai Mikaze," the teacher is saying with a gesture at the hot guy.

Sit, the SQUIP says. Like a dog hearing a command, Jeremy sits. He almost turns his head to look at Ai again, but his neck doesn't turn like he expects it to. The girl beside you is interested in you already and she's a valuable social contact here. Think of her like the Newark version of Jenna Rolan. Remember Jenna? You're going to want to sleep with her. Once upon a time, Jeremy would have gotten flustered at hearing the SQUIP say that. Now it just feels routine. Initiate meet-cute flirt protocol.

Make eye contact fleetingly, give her a cocky smile when he catches her staring, drop his pencil at the SQUIP's command, brush up against her hand when she reaches to pick it up for him. Yeah, he knows the drill. It's as easy as breathing nowadays and twice as boring.

Jeremy, the SQUIP says in irritation. He blinks at Ai dumbly before he remembers that if he's looking at Ai, he's not looking at the new girl. Ugh. He's somehow still so bad at this.

#be more chill #uta no prince sama #utapri #mikaze ai #be more chill fanfiction #squip #i'll probably wind up reblogging this for self promotion a few times. also for venus promotion lol

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acrowamongsparrows · 2 years

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A Crow Among Sparrows

A Witcher OC Roleplay Blog

“Gather round now,” came the calm voice of the bard as he pulled up a chair, a smile on his face as the patrons young came to sit before him. He wore a thick blue coat that seemed to have seen many more seasons than lined his own face. The green eyes bright with mirth but hiding a deep wild sadness that he obviously did his best to push aside. “Who here knows what a Witcher is?”

“A monster!” One voice piped up with an agreeance of murmurs from the other children.

The bard tilted his head thoughtfully, listening to the gibbering of the kids before perking up as he pointed to one of them. “You! What did you say?”

The other children stopped talking and turned to look at a small girl who looked suddenly very shy as the red grew in her face to match her hair. She tried her best to whisper and hide.

“Come on no, don’t be afraid. Say it again.” The bard insisted, his smile welcoming as he leaned forward.

Gulping hard she would speak louder now, her face growing more crimson by the second. “They’re not monsters.”

“Why?”

“Because,” she looked at the other kids again and then back into the green eyes. “They kill them.”

The bard nodded sagely at her words and sat up straight again. “You are correct. They hunt the monsters.”

“My da says they bring all the bad stuff,” a boy interjected.

“Bad stuff? Like what?” The green eyes gave the young girl reprieve as he turned to the boy now, arching a brow at him.

“Like..like...monsters!” The child hesitated at first being caught on the spot, the others giggling before answering the question as well.

“Vampires!”

“Wolfmen!”

“Skeletons!”

“Milkmaids!”

“Dragons!”

The bard nodded again as he mentally took in their words, tapping his chin in deep thought. “Wow, that’s a lot of ‘bad’ stuff. So how do you get rid of them?”

The kids stopped as they thought about it.

“You,” the crimson faced girl again hesitated but found herself emboldened by the bards calling her initially. “You call a Witcher.”

Smile wide with bits of off-white teeth showing, the bard would look back to them as even a few of the older crowd were turning to watch now. “Ah there you go now. You call a witcher to deal with the monsters.”

“And then you toss em-,” a little began to the first bars to a VERY familiar song.

“Shh!” A nearby child ribbed him with a frown as the story was set to begin.

Rising up to his feet the blue coated bard would crack his neck and stretch his arms above him, ready to begin a long night of story telling. “You all are very intelligent and well thought out minds for sure. And you all seem to know your stuff on these monster slayers for I’m sure you’ve heard of the famous ones here.”

A plethora of nods followed as they watched him. “Good so we can cut the backstory and dive right in the meat of it.”

The bard sat back again on his stool before leaning forward on his knees as he whispered. “Let me tell you about a crow...”

Welcome to ‘A Crow Among Sparrows’, a Witcher OC roleplay blog. Here I have decided to make my own tales adjacent to the tales of Geralt and other fan favorites from the Witcher series. Along with the Witcher series I have used a lot of the ideas from the Ravenloft setting to add new characters and ideas to my own interpretation of the Witcher verse. From the Vistani, to vampires, and all kinds of other dark creatures of the night I love to delve into the supernatural horror fantasy.

Is it accurate? No. Is it ‘lore’ abiding? Not really. Do I use a lot of D&D stuff to add more fluff? Yes. Do I mix up a lot of my own canon? All the time. Do I enjoy writing about spooky monster hunting within an amazing settings? Yes I do.

So I hope you enjoy what I put out there, maybe interact with your own characters, and we all hope that I keep going with this for awhile.

Dramatis Personae

Eldridge of Kovir

Duncan Waycrest

Janus Klaudin

Alfred Klaudin

original art from @sirenofdusk

#the witcher #witcher oc #eldridge of kovir #Duncan Waycrest #janus klaudin #alfred klaudin #van richten's guide to ravenloft #roleplay #about the blog #rp #witcher ttrpg

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casspurrjoybell-32 · 7 months

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Taken - Blue Moon Series - Chapter 16c

*Warning Adult Content*

Prince Gale Dartanyanoff

Now more than two hundred years later.

He had grown up from the wild bloodthirsty monster that he used to be into a being that enjoyed what he had and lived life to the fullest.

Even when Raina who was murdered by hunters a few years ago died, he stayed by his families side.

He may not have cared for the woman but his father and brother had taken it hard.

Her loss affected them so much that all he could do was watch the destructive paths and isolation they chose to follow.

Nicholas who used to be full of so much curiosity and smiles was an empty shell of himself.

And his father had been strict before had gripped the reins tighter on his rules.

He had zero tolerance for disobedience but he did let his sons slide from time to time.

Just watching them made Gale realize how important the people around you were.

Now he had two mates.

He would die if he were to ever lose them.

Now there was no denying that he wanted to mate with them.

He had hesitantly fed from Cyrus and it was amazing.

He knew that he could take Gale.

His blood was so tangy and sharp.

It shot a boost of adrenaline in him just from the taste.

Lakota, on the other hand, was no longer a wolf, he was a human now.

His past had been filled with countless human bodies that he had drained dry.

His hunger was still unstable after all these years.

Even after all his father's lessons, it was hard to break such an instinctual habit he had since childhood.

Lakota was vulnerable, more so now, then before and he still was wary of hurting him then.

The smell of Lakota was enticing and it took everything in him to keep himself at bay.

Lakota Bateman

"This is why I don't want to feed from you Lakota. I can be a monster and lose all self if I enjoy it too much. Just the thought of tasting you makes me shake with excitement and it scares the crap out of me," he finally finished, his eyes cast down.

Wow... I hadn't expected his past to be so hard.

It brought tears to my eyes.

I knew what it was like to try and survive every day with what you had.

I glanced over to Cyrus who I could tell was seeing Gale in a new light.

"I accept all of you Gale," I said moving to my hands and knees and crawling to him.

Placing myself in his lap I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him close.

"You've accepted everything that is me, how could I not accept everything that is you."

Burying my fingers in his thick hair I held him tighter.

"I'm yours, Gale. I'm both yours to do with however you want," I whispered.

"You guys could chain me up in the cellar and I know for sure that all I would care about is seeing you coming through that door every time you decided to see me."

"Lakota," both exclaimed in disbelief and disgust at the thought and I smiled.

"All I'm saying is that I'm yours forever no matter what. If your survival meant losing mine for you to live? I'd gladly give my life for both of you."

"So drink from me Gale because I want you too. And if you happen to lose control, just know what I said. My life is yours to do with what you want."

Finally, I left the grip I had on his hair and leaned back to see his face.

"Dammit, Lakot," he whispered.

Tears were streaming down his face as he and he pulled me back so he could hide again.

Cyrus finally moved closer and leaned his back against us hiding his face too.

I laughed softly my throat tightening in the process.

"You guys are just a bunch of crybabies," I strained out as my own vision became a blurry mess.

"You're one to talk," they sobbed simultaneously.

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cossouq-india · 1 year

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The Best Eyebrow Enhancers For Your Face Shape

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#beauty products #skincare #eye makeup #eye

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comas-are-for-sleeping · 2 years

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hahahahaha oh no

#my family watched get out #and it was so good but it also so just hit #anyway it just. like. fuckin. bam hit me how uncomfy it is when people talk abt how envious they are of my thick hair #so now im having a panic attack bc i dont think i ever really thought about it in that way #like. yeah i have thick hair people w thinner hair are gonna be envious bc when u get older ur hair thins out and i wont have that problem #but the just total fucking disregard #HOW DID I JUST SIT AND THINK ‘maybe you could cut some off and give it to me lol haha’ WAS OK #FROM MY GRANDMA #WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCKING FUCK #’wow your hair is so amazing it’s so thick that’s wild’#i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it i hate it. i hate it #rambles #vent tw #THE WORST PART IS THAT NOW I DONT LIKE MY HAIR AS MUCH AS I DID BEFORE #it’s one of the things that i actually like myself and now it feels dirty #i wanna shave it all off #i want it gone even tho im literally tryin to grow it out a little bit #FUCK

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coeurdastronaute · 2 years

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Winter Olympics, Ch. 4

Previously on Winter Olympics

The cheering of the crowd didn’t really come in over the whooshing of the air through her helmet, not until she slowed. The wind was generous at her back so she felt like she was flying even more. The thick, grey clouds felt like they were nearly within her grasp sometimes.

There was a rhythm to half pipe, to her routine, one that she’d memorized to highlight her mastery, one that was so much fun, she couldn’t believe she got to compete with it, one that she did better than anyone else, and with a few surprises thrown in. When she hit the final trick, she pumped her fist and tossed her hands up, happy with the entirety of it, more than she ever thought possible.

Nearly out of breath, Clarke stopped near the fences where her coach and parents waited to congratulate her. She knew before she looked up that it was going to be a good score. She felt it. It was one of the most flawless runs she’d ever had. It was like dancing to her. If she’d been a pianist, she would have hit every note with just the right amount, at just the right time-- a symphony from her board.

When the score was announced, she heard Bellamy above the rest, screaming for her, earning a hug from him quickly before her mother swallowed her and Kane patted her back with a half hug around her.

Grinning madly, Clarke tossed her head back and closed her eyes. 92.8. She’d qualify first. It was tough mark to beat, not that Anya couldn’t. Clarke just had to hope the Canadian was a little less capable today. The Australians went wild as Clarke walked past, allowing them to swallow her as well. Her cheeks were going to break, she was certain as she entered the waiting area after a quick interview.

“You’re an asshole,” Anya punched her shoulder and then hugged her tightly. “That was amazing. Seriously. I’m going to go DQ just so I don’t have to feel bad about myself.”

“Shut up. You’ve already qualified,” Clarke rolled her eyes.

She shoved her helmet and goggles into her bag, making sure her board was stacked before pushing the sweaty tendrils out of her eyes.

“Yeah, well now I have to up my game,” she shrugged. “First Aden gets the first goal. Now Lexa with a hat trick. I swear you’re going to make me look bad in front of my grandparents. Of course they couldn’t be here for my early run.”

“I promise to do worse next time your grandparents are coming.”

Clarke filed the news away about Lexa, outrageously happy to hear that she’d performed well. She assumed a hat trick in hockey was the same as in soccer, and if so, that was impressive as hell. Sexy too.

“Did they win their games?”

“What?”

“Your cousins. You know, the more talented ones in your genetic pool.”

“Aden is heading to a shoot out, so not sure yet. Lex…” Anya picked up her phone, rereading a text. “Lexa won 5-0.”

“Wow, that’s… that’s like the spanking I just put on you.”

“You’re seriously an asshole,” Anya growled, earning a smile. “My grandparents got to see both of them kick ass, and I already qualified.”

“So you’re not going to go put on a show?”

Clarke did her best to tame her hair and prepare for media questions in the press room. She imagined there’d be a few after a run like that.

“Safety run for me, coaches orders.”

“Put a little something on it for them at least,” Clarke shrugged.

Anya debated it before nodding and deciding something right there. It was easy to talk like that, almost like teammates. Even though they were on teams, it was a very lonely sport, one that was sometimes hard to make friends in. Clarke valued being friends with her competitor. They made the other better. Anya was the reason she’d just put on the run she had.

“Didn’t hear from Lexa last night. You found her place okay?”

“Yeah, thanks,” she blushed a bit, preparing to change out of her boots, not looking up. But Anya didn’t press, just stood there and nodded thoughtfully.

“Well, if she’s your lucky charm, I really fucked myself, didn’t I?”

The pair shared a chuckle before the Canadian heard her name called to get up to the start. Clarke held her breath though, hoping that was it. It was a tacit acknowledgement, but it was loud enough, she thought. Lexa was camaraderie and a bit of an escape in the middle of the most stressful two weeks of her life. That was it. It didn’t need to be dissected. Clarke found a bit of reprieve, and she wouldn’t think about it too much. She certainly didn’t want to get a talk from an overprotective family member. Not for a crush, which was all this was.

“Go put on a show, Jansen,” Clarke called. “Tomorrow we’ll start over and fight for gold.”

“Won’t be much of a fight,” Anya tossed over her shoulder as she tugged on her helmet and walked out of the tent.

Left to herself, she heard the crowd roaring for whatever the next competitor was doing. Clarke took the moment though, and basked in her most perfect run ever. It was a feeling that nothing could ruin. She marinated in that moment and smiled as she finally caught her breath.

Maybe it was a lucky charm.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dinner was entirely too nice. Clarke hadn’t expected to feel so good, or to have her parents be so excited for her. Maybe it was the arena, that they could see and hear and understand what it all meant to her. Maybe it was just figuring out that she didn’t have to put all of her hopes and dreams before them for their approval. Maybe it was just a hell of a run, and even they could understand something like that.

“You did so good. It’s still a little terrifying watching, but wow,” her mother grinned as they found the restaurant Kane had googled and added to an itinerary. “You did great. I liked your double alley oop. The announcer said it doesn’t get done ever.”

“Yeah, Bellamy wasn’t sure about adding it, but I thought it looked good in practice. My first score was good enough, but I wanted to really set the bar, and with Anya attempting the 1080...”

“An Olympic finalist,” Kane shook his head and smiled. “If I would have known this was waiting the first time you fell on your butt when I took you down the bunny slope… I just wouldn't have believed it.”

Clarke couldn’t help but smile as they sat at their table. It felt a little good to make them proud. It felt even better that they made the effort. It felt like a compromise had been reached somehow.

“What are you guys going to get up to tomorrow before the finals? I’ll be able to hang out more after. Big Air isn’t for a week.”

“I got invited to go see an old friend, Dr. Jaha. Do you remember him?” Abby said as she perused the wine list. “He left to take a position out here when you were… Maybe six or so.”

“Vaguely.”

“We’re getting a tour of UBC’s research labs,” Kane explained. “I think it’s a bit of an undercover sales pitch to your mother, but what do I know?”

“They don’t have the budget for both of us,” she shook her head. “And I’m happy at my lab.”

“Would you take it if they did?” Clarke wondered.

Abby looked to Kane who just looked back and offered a small smile and a shrug. Clarke liked their language. She liked that she had a shit father, and a great dad who supported her as best he could. Marcus Kane bought her the first snowboard she ever owned when she turned eight. He also built her mother a house.

In the dim light of the restaurant, Clarke finally let out a breath, that she was happy they were there, and for a moment, she didn’t feel like the fuck up that couldn’t talk to them about life. She felt vaguely like an adult. Her parents might debate it given that she played in the snow for a living, but after the performance she just gave and the fact that she made the finals with a shot at a medal. It proved something.

“Maybe?” Abby shrugged again, something she wasn’t known to do, giggling slightly. “You’re always in Colorado or Idaho anyway training. I might see you more if we lived on the same continent.”

“I still train in the summer back home.”

“Maybe four months,” her mother reminded her. “If you’re not competing.”

“You don’t have to uproot your life for me, seriously.”

“We’re putting the wagon way before the horse,” Abby reminded the pair. “We’re getting a tour and having dinner with a dear old friend. Nothing more.”

“He’s sending a car,” Kane leaned closer with a grin, spilling it all to Clarke. “A folder of information was delivered to the suite about an our ago.”

“Sounds a little less friendly and a little more showboating,” Clarke agreed.

“Yes, can you bring a bottle,” Abby asked the waiter, ignoring them. “Champagne. My daughter just qualified for an Olympic final tomorrow. Yeah, her,” she nodded as the waiter politely smiled at Clarke. “We’re going to celebrate.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and adjusted the napkin in her lap.

“Just one glass. I do have to get up and, you know, compete.”

“We’re celebrating you accomplishing all you have,” Kane shook his head. “And tomorrow, we’ll celebrate your medal.”

“Don’t jinx me.”

“You kicked ass today. You’re going to do the same tomorrow.”

“I know we haven’t always understood, or thought this was a good idea, but you’ve…” her mother smiled warmly at her across the table. “You’ve really done something amazing and important, Clarke. You can still get a degree, but I want you to kick ass tomorrow.”

“I’m going to try, that’s for sure,” Clarke agreed as the bottle was delivered. “But I think we should drink to Mom’s woo-ing and maybe getting a better funded lab.”

“We can drink to it all,” Abby shook her head as Kane poured. “To being at the Olympics, with our daughter, the Olympian.”

Unsure of where the change in their attitudes was coming from, Clarke didn’t question it too much. It felt good, to have their support. It felt good, for them to acknowledge that they saw the hard work she’d put in. So she took her glass and clinked it with theirs.

“To being here,” she echoed before taking a sip. It tingled her throat and she hopped into debating what to get for dinner with her parents, warm and bubbly all over.

XXXXXXXXX

It wasn’t that late, as her parents dropped her off at the Village before returning to their hotel for the night. Clarke checked her watch again and sighed as she stood in the middle of the small, wintery town that had popped up, picturesque and full of athletes and trainers mingling and walking through the brisk cold, puffs of their breath disappearing into the crisp, clear night sky.

With a heavy sigh, she squinted and looked up at her building before shoving her hands in her pockets and checking the time again, though it hadn’t changed since the minute ago when she looked.

It wasn’t that late, only after nine. Her competition wasn’t until six in the evening the following day, despite knowing full well that she’d be preparing in the hours before. And she kind of wanted to know what was going to happen next to Luke and Leia and Han. Mostly the movie, she told herself as she set her jaw and made a hard right, veering toward the other side of the Village.

When she got off of the elevator on Lexa’s floor, Clarke heard the noise and grew a little nervous. Naturally, she’d celebrate with her team. She should have left. She could have backed right into the elevator had she any sense at all. But the doors closed and her back hit the metal and Clarke realized she was there, now.

“Oh my, oh my,” some cheered as Clarke walked through the hall, dodging bodies toasting to their success, all manner of red, white, and blue on display. “We have a visitor!”

Clarke recognized a face or two from when she’d looked through Lexa’s Instagram. She gave the gaggle that sprawled on the floor and bed in one room a small wave and smile. One climbed up and approached the doorway, tape still on her legs, hair in a messy, wet bun.

“Hey, you’re… the snowboarder, right?” she grinned. “From Australia?”

“Yeah, that’s… I’m one of them, at least.”

“The one who had a great run today?”

“It was alright,” she shrugged.

“We watched the video. Pretty sick.”

“Thanks. Felt good. I should congratulate you all. Impressive win. A shut out, if that’s what you call that.”

“All me,” she beamed proudly as the rest of the team hooted and clapped. “I’m Em. Goalie. Thanks for hosting that welcome party the other night. We all had a blast.”

“That was you?” a few called from the floor.

There was music playing quietly, or at least what seemed quietly because they were all feeling quite excited and loud, recounting and celebrating. It was a little disorienting, to see so many women in sports bras and shorts, just walking around with abs and muscles. It was like being trapped on Themyscira. And Clarke didn’t know where to really look, except that Lexa wasn’t there.

“I heard there’s going to be one on the sixth floor tomorrow, celebrating the first round of medals. Some French speed skaters.”

The team got excited again, drowning out any more suggestions, agreeing that they had to go, which made Clarke feel a little accomplished at least. But the goalie was still standing there, eyeing her a little more carefully than the others, less easily distracted.

“You’re here to see our fearless captain then?”

“I, uh,” Clarke furrowed, racking her brain to figure out if Lexa was the captain or not. “If she’s the one who had the hat trick, then yes.”

The goalie nodded and leaned against the door as she crossed her arms. It didn’t really seem right that everyone in the room had biceps. And traps. The traps were…

“She’s at a family dinner still. It was a pretty decent day at work for the Woods clan, despite you kicking Anya’s ass.”

“I wouldn’t call her third place finish in qualifiers a huge loss.”

“You must not know them that well,” she snickered to herself.

“I think it’s a bit different for Anya.”

“Maybe. But still, a lot to celebrate. Do you want to wait? You can hang out with us. We aren’t that scary.”

A loud argument broke out followed by shrieks of laughter.

“I might head back. Try to keep calm tonight and prepare, I guess,” Clarke decided. “If you… could you let her know I stopped by?”

“Have you maybe considered giving her your number?”

“I kind of like keeping it… casual? That’s not the right word. Low-tech.”

“I’ll let her know a beautiful Australian was looking for her. I’m sure it’ll tickle her after the day she’s had. A hat trick in her first Olympic game and a babe making house calls.”

“Aw, you think I’m a babe?” Clarke teased.

“Not my type. Just thinking about what Lex might call you.”

Clarke chuckled and rolled her eyes.

“I appreciate it. Thanks. And congrats again.”

“Yeah, you too,” she called as Clarke made her way back down the hall.

Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe Clarke didn’t need to see a complete stranger, three nights in a row. It was probably safer that way. Less of a risk of getting attached. Clarke pressed the button and left the women to celebrate their victory. She didn’t think about the looks Lexa’s friend had given her. She didn’t think about the tiny prickling disappoint that she didn’t get to see her. Clarke walked back to her own room and watched the highlights of Lexa’s game on her phone as she trudged through the cold.

XXXXXXXXXX

In just over an hour, Clarke did all of the work she could. She’s returned emails, something she was never keen on doing. She checked her schedule her publicist sent over. She posted a few pictures from the events, and commented on others, putting in her activity time. In a very dumb turn of events, she checked Lexa’s social media. Lexa being pummeled by her teammates in the locker room was featured. Followed by the her knocking gloves after a goal, shouting her joy. The last picture was Lexa at a table in a restaurant similar to the one Clarke had just found herself at with her parents, dimly lit and full of amazing food. She smiled and let an older gentleman Clarke assumed was her grandfather put an arm around her, her cousin on the other side. Clarke recognized Aden from the cafeteria and a smaller woman tucked against his side. Coach sat at the head of it while Lexa hugged her grandmother tightly.

It made Clarke smile, to see it.

She liked it, as if by reflex, as if it was normal to like the picture of a girl she’d slept beside twice and kissed and been disappointed in not seeing.

So convinced was she, that when there was a knock on her door, she assumed it was Bellamy who had taken to incessantly bothering her to come hang out with the rest of the team. But it was nearing eleven, and she couldn’t do it.

But then there was Lexa Woods, standing at her door, no longer trapped as just a picture on her phone.

“You,” Clarke murmured, surprised and relieved.

“Me,” Lexa smiled, bigger than ever before. “You.”

Clarke didn’t say anything, just shifted slightly so the hockey player could pass. She closed the door and watched her aimlessly walk around, hands in her back pockets, stupid smile firmly on her lips.

“Anya was singing your praises tonight. Apparently even she can’t do a double alley oop. At least not yet, she reminded me.”

“I might not have shown her that one yet. Thought she’d like the surprise.”

Lexa nodded and toed the ground, her shoulders moving as she took a deep breath.

“You kicked ass today. I couldn’t make it in time to watch, but I was watching with my dad during Aden’s shoot out.”

“Heard you did alright yourself,” Clarke shrugged. The smile got dopier, if it were possible. It was incredibly endearing. Too much. “I was impressed. I only asked for two goals.”

“I’m a bit of an overachiever. It’s been a curse, really,” Lexa shrugged, carefully taking her coat off. The sweater below clung to her broad shoulders as she flexed and folded it over a chair. “I was given a message by secretary slash goalie that, and this is a quote from her, not my words at all: ‘a smoking hot Australian snowboarder showed up to celebrate with me,’ and that I was an idiot for not giving you my number.”

Lexa had taken the few steps that separated them while Clarke remained rooted against the door. They were nearly toe to toe. Clarke thought she could feel the words wafting across her neck.

“I quite like her.”

“Is it true then?”

“That you’re an idiot? Probably,” Clarke grinned. Hands moved to her hips and she jutted them out slightly.

This Lexa… this Lexa was different than the girl from the hallway and the girl who watched Star Wars in bed. This Lexa was not the Lexa that flopped around in the bed, refusing to get out. This Lexa had a smirk to her. This Lexa grabbed Clarke’s hips and dug her fingers in a little more firm than before. This Lexa was brimming with confidence and sureness that was, as Clarke had feared, downright lethal.

“That you wanted to celebrate with me.”

“I’m actually very invested in Leia,” Clarke decided, looping her arms around Lexa’s neck. “I was promised another movie, and I figured you might need to wind down after your day.”

“I could go for that. But what about you? Wound up at all? “

Her lips were hovering right there, but Clarke didn’t lean forward an inch. They danced, around each other slightly, until their noses touched, until Lexa closed the distance.

“A little,” Clarke swallowed roughly.

When Lexa dipped down to kiss her, finally, Clarke sighed against her mouth before tugging her arms tighter. It was not like the first kiss. It wasn’t even like when they were nearly naked in her bed just a day ago. This kiss was… This was the kiss. She didn’t have time to dwell on what the kiss meant, just that it was the kiss. The defining kiss. The important kiss.

Lips moved to her neck as she rooted her hands in Lexa’s hair. Hands held her still, tugging her closer.

“I’m not distracting you, right?” Lexa whispered against her ear. But Clarke was in a fog, and she shook her head, finding lips again and biting.

When Lexa tried to pull herself away to make sure, Clarke didn’t let her.

“No, you’re not, I promise,” she murmured.

“You have finals tomorrow.”

“Yup.”

Clarke tugged at the sweater until Lexa stood a little straight and finally let her go enough to tug it over her head. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were dilated behind those glasses, now slightly askew on her face. Clarke pulled them off of Lexa’s face before carefully folding them and placing them on a counter behind her. She reached back forward and tugged Lexa’s shirt until she was pressed against the door once more, the hockey player’s entire body pinning her there, hands rooted on either side of her head.

“This is okay?” Lexa asked one final time, holding herself just in Clarke’s focus.

She hadn’t lost her confidence, her smirk, as she ran a hand along Clarke’s neck and tapped her thumb along the collarbone there.

“Yes. I promise.” The hockey player searched her face, squinting slightly, wagering if it was. “Call time isn’t until two, and frankly I have a lot of nervous energy after my performance today and expectations and my parents… so yeah. This is very okay. Very needed. Celebrate all over me, if you want.”

With a burst of laughter, Lexa nodded and debated before turning her sights back to the task at hand. They grinned at each other for a moment before Lexa leaned down again, putting her hands back on Clarke’s hips before slipping them around her.

In an instant she was wrapping her legs around Lexa’s waist and clinging to her neck even tighter than before.

“Don’t hurt yourself. I can’t be the reason for the demise of the US National Women’s Hockey Team captain before she’s out of prelims,” Clarke teased.

“Let me show off a little,” Lexa shrugged. “I might have some energy I need to burn off.”

“So you’re going to bench me?”

“Would you like that?”

It was oddly appealing in a way Clarke hadn’t considered before. Before she could put too much mental effort into the image though, Lexa knelt in her bed and slowly lowered her, hovering them there while kissing her neck.

“Please fuck me,” Clarke whispered against Lexa’s lips as she was pressed into the pillow.

Lexa moaned at the polite request and bit her neck as she scratched at her scalp. Clarke filed away the fact that dirty talk and scratching seemed to do the trick.

In a matter of a minute, she’d been stripped down completely as Lexa knelt between her legs and surveyed her. Clarke watched her face, and she saw her chest heaving, as if she were nearly out of breath. Lexa pushed her hair away from her face before deciding on a hair tie from her wrist to hold it back.

“You,” Clarke nudged her chin.

Lexa knew. She tugged off her shirt and bra and Clarke took her turn appreciating. She touched the tiny little maple leaf tattoo on Lexa’s hip, not noticing it before.

“What if I told you that you were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen,” Lexa asked, finally holding Clarke’s gaze.

“I think we’re past the chatting up portion. You did good.”

“I still needed you to hear it.”

A hand was pressed against her chest, then slid down her torso before moving back up again. Clarke watched Lexa focus on her hand before adding the other, touching all that she could. It made her back arch up to help.

“Have you decided the answer to my favorite question?”

“What’s that?”

“Whose bed?” Clarke grinned as hands grabbed her hips again and pressed them into the mattress to keep her rooted.

“Is this an invitation?”

“I swear to God, if you don’t--”

Clarke choked on the words as Lexa leaned down and settled between her thighs. They knew which bed.

A really good, very tiny distraction, she chanted to herself as her eyes bolted shut and her head tossed back. She rooted her hands in Lexa’s hair again and gave in.

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kingdaddydaichi · 3 years

Text

Scent ⁘ Kakashi Hatake x f!reader ⁘ NSFW

( Source )

Got another one for y'all for my husband's birthday...💙👑💍

MINORS 👏🏼 DO 👏🏼 NOT 👏🏼 INTERACT 👏🏼

A/N: Kakashi's sensitive sense of smell and your arousal. This is some raw, primal, feral, filthy Kakashi. If you're looking for soft, sweet, sensitive Kakashi, keep scrolling please, negl.

Warnings: scent kink, drunk sex, lots of sexual bodily fluids (m & f), face fucking, slight dubcon, squirting, facial

Word Count: 1.8k

Asuma and Kurenai are hosting one of their infamous dinner parties at their home. These things always end up the same way. Lots of friends come over, eat, then proceed to drink bottle after bottle of sake while playing drinking games until the music starts blasting and everyone loses several brain cells and have a great time making complete fools of themselves. They truly are the absolute best parties.

Kakashi doesn't frequent these parties, but you do seeing as how Kurenai is your sister from another mister. She knows about your long-time crush on Kakashi and winks at you when she sees the two of you hanging out together, talking, laughing.

His fingers brush across your arms or back every chance they can. You know exactly what you're doing when you lean forward with your arm crossed under your bosom. And Kakashi knows exactly what you're doing too. Sure enough, you're getting turned on just by talking to him and exchanging flirty looks, words, and touches.

You excuse yourself to go to the restroom, adding a little extra sway to your hips knowing he's watching you walk away. It's not the first time he has smelled the scent of your arousal, but his inhibitions have been doused in alcohol and he decides to make his move.

When you open the door to leave the bathroom, Kakashi just so happens to be waiting on the other side. You smile and twirl your hair, feeling yourself getting wetter. Your inhibitions are down as well, the alcohol giving you the courage to taunt him a little.

"Wow Kakashi, if I didn't know better I'd think that you followed me back here". He closes his eyes and takes a couple of deep breaths through his nose. "Kakashi, are you okay?"

He opens his eyes, his pupils blown wide, and stalks closer to you. You step backwards into the bathroom and he closes the door behind you.

"I can smell you".

"Oh?" You remember his ultra-sensitive sense of smell and begin to panic a little. Oh god, do I smell bad?

He takes another intentional whiff of you, your scent now more concentrated due to proximity and close quarters, never mind the fact that you're steadily getting more and more turned on by him.

"Mm...you smell..." He takes another deep breath. "...amazing".

"Really? I'm not wearing perfume or anything-"

"It's not that. Better than that. It's your scent".

"W-what do you mean?"

You watch as his lusty gaze dips from your eyes to your center. "I can smell your arousal".

Your mouth opens and you take a step back. "Y-you can?"

The edge of the double vanity is now directly behind you, so when he pushes himself against you, there's nowhere else to go. You're surprised to feel him so hard already, looking down to see the material of his pants being pushed out by his erection. Hell, you can even see the outline of the head of his cock, his bigger than average size making itself apparent.

"What are you gonna do, Kakashi?"

He smooths his hands along your thighs and hips, pushing your short skirt up before picking you up and setting you on the edge of the counter. The cool granite contrasts with your bare heat since you're not wearing any panties. The excitement, the fear, and the need for him all mix together in an exhilarating juxtaposition of desire. You hadn't been expecting this at all, but you don't want him to stop. Now that it's happening you're too curious to see what he's going to do next. How far will he go?

He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip, and you open your mouth to suck it in. You close your eyes and swirl your tongue around his digit before he pulls it out slowly and places it against your weeping slit, dragging it back and forth over your clit, pulling a moan from your parted lips. He looks you dead in the eye, pulls his mask down, and it's his turn to bring his thumb to his lips, swirling his tongue around it before sucking on it. "Mm fuck, you taste good too".

God, he's beautiful. Your gaze dips from his slate grey and red eyes down to his pretty lips, which are punctuated by a soft beauty mark just below the left corner of his mouth. You wouldn't have thought it possible, but now you want him more than ever. You squirm against the counter, smearing your slick on it as you seek relief from the hard surface pressing against your opening. At the same time, Kakashi's been grinding his cock against the cabinet below, seeking some relief of his own.

He pulls his shirt over his head before reaching down to unbuckle his belt. He unbuttons and unzips his pants before pushing the waistband of his boxer briefs down enough for his large cock to spring free, slapping the skin just below his navel, leaving a string of precum in its wake along his silver happy trail.

He breathes in deeply again, the combination of your scent and flavor making him crazy. He pulls you to the edge of the counter until you think you might fall off, but he catches you. He pushes his thick cock against your wet little cunt, pushing himself inside of you inch by delectable inch until he is fully sheathed within you.

He holds himself there as a long, throaty moan escapes your open lips, your walls already clenching down around him. You arch your back, jutting your tits out as Kakashi pulls the tiny straps of your camisole off your shoulders. He pushes the fabric down until it's bunched up around your waist along with your skirt, your tits now free to be licked and sucked on by his hot mouth with his cock still buried deep inside of you. You push your fingers into his thick hair to pull him closer and throw your head back when he flicks his tongue over one of your hard, wet nipples.

"Hold on to me", he says in his low silky voice. You obey, clutching his shoulders as he hooks his arms behind your knees. He pulls you off the counter and begins gliding his slick cock in and out of you, using the momentum of his hips and the bounce of your ass to boost the impact of his thrusts.

"Oh god, Kakashi...your dick..."

"Yeah, what about it?", he asks before licking your exposed throat.

"Nnnhhh feels so good, gonna make me cum already. So soon!"

He can indeed feel your walls closing in tighter around him as he pumps his hips even faster, digging his fingertips deep enough into your butt cheeks to leave bruises. You adjust your hold on him, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck to keep from slipping as if he wouldn't catch you anyway.

"Yeah? 'S that right? You gonna cum all over my cock?" He breathes right up against your ear.

Your pussy clenches tighter at his words. You want him to fuck you harder and you tell him as much. He's now slamming his cock into you, his breath quickening.

"Mmhmmm gonna cream all over your fat cock, 'kashi!"

Your scent becomes more and more intoxicating to him the closer you approach orgasm. His legs start to shake, but the adrenaline and testosterone coursing through his body ensure that he's able to keep pistoning his cock in and out of you at speed.

"Ahh fuck, your pussy smells so fucking good. Can't wait to taste it after you cream all over me".

Hearing those words in his deep voice does you in. Every muscle in your body seizes up as you cry out. "Ka-ka-shiiiii!"

He pushes you up against a wall and pounds into you mercilessly, your back pitching up and down the wall with every powerful rut of his hips.

"Cum for me, (y/n)! Yeah, cum all over this fucking cock, right fucking now!"

"Hahhhh that's it, 'kashi! Yeah, slam your cock into my sweet little pussy hahhh! Cumming...cumming...FUCK!"

You explode all around him, spraying your liquid everywhere.

His eyes widen when you squirt all around him and he loses all composure, bucking his hips wildly. "Oh fucking shit! Fucking yes! Oh fuck that pretty cunt of yours is coming apart around my fat cock...oh god, (y/n), I'm gonna fill you up with my fucking nut! Shit, here I cum! Here I fucking cum!"

He's still reaming you with his meaty cock when his seed starts dripping out from your opening, too much of it to hold inside. He sets you back down on the counter and you fall back, unable to even hold yourself up, while he dives face first into your cunt. He wants it all. Your cream mixed with his cum. God it is so fucking hot his dick doesn't even get soft. He wears you out with his mouth until you're ready to cum again, squirting all over his face.

Your body goes limp on the granite, every muscle including the ones in your eyelids completely spent. You can feel him pull your bottom back down to the edge of the counter before burying his hard cock deep inside you again, thrusting with wild abandon, using your body like a fuck doll as your eyes roll back in your head. You're all but unconscious as he pounds into you, wet skin clapping hard against wet skin. Pretty soon he's on edge again.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna fill you up with my cum again, (y/n)".

He looks down to see your body moving in time with his thrusts, tits bouncing, body sliding up and down over the now slippery surface. Kakashi is fucking you raw in a pool of your slick and his semen.

"Ahh come here, I wanna cum all over your face".

He pulls you down, catching you just before your knees hit the hard tile. He stuffs his cock in your mouth and fucks your face while you try to push back on his trembling thighs. But it's no match for his strength as he uses your hair to guide your mouth along his cock. You gag and choke, saliva pouring out of your mouth, but that only seems to egg him on more.

"Oh fuck yeah, fuck yeah! You look so pretty when I fuck your face like this. Shit!"

He continues throwing his hips forward as his balls tighten up so much they're not even hanging anymore.

"Ah fuck, (y/n), I'm gonna cum so fuckin' hard! Gonna cover your face with my seed, yeah! Fuck, here it comes!"

He keeps a fist in your hair when he pulls out of your throat. You choke and spit and fight for air while his hot sticky semen splashes across your face with every jerk of his fist. You stick your tongue out, licking him from your lips.

"Yeah, that's right baby, eat my fucking cum," Kakashi says, using the head of his softening cock to spread his cum into your open mouth.

He draws a hot bath before stripping you down, helping you into the soothing warm water. You watch as he takes the rest of his clothes off, slipping in behind you. He washes your body, then his own before holding you back against his front, slowly stroking your hair. Comforting you. Kissing you. Caring for you.

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mickey-henry · 3 years

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐈 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝

pairing: bucky barnes (bookstore au) x reader

summary: eager to escape the heat, you find yourself in the presence of a mesmerizing bookstore and an irresistibly beautiful man.

word count: 2.3K

author’s note: hello! welcome to my third fic😊 I’m eager to share this with you all! I now have a taglist (the link is also in my bio) if you’re interested🥰 thank you to @certainaesthetic for helping me workshop this idea, @fuckandfluff for the grammar help, and @midnightf for hyping me up as I wrote it! likes, reblogs, messages, replies, and comments are cherished! the header images are from pinterest and the divider is from here. I hope you like it! 💖

You’re desperate to escape the smoldering heat. It’s too hot to rest in the car; it’s been baking all day beneath the sweltering summer sun, parked just outside your place of work. If you attempt to sit in it now, you’d only be greeted with a wave of torrid air, stung with the touch of your seatbelt, and burnt from the searing leather of your steering wheel.

You’re off from work earlier than usual—the blinding sun is usually long beneath the horizon before you head home for the day. The pathetically small sun visor does nothing to shade your eyes from the blazing sunlight. Rather than driving half-blind, you decide to wait out the setting sun.

As you ponder how to spend the rest of your afternoon, you realize that now is an opportune time to visit the new bookstore, The Book Haven, that opened last month. After changing out of your uniform and throwing your work stuff in the trunk, you walk across the plaza to the shop entrance.

The bookstore greets you with the chime of a bell and a rush of cool air as you step in, a blissful contrast to the scorching outdoors. The welcoming scent of coffee grounds and the tangy aroma of old books accompany the refreshing breeze. You take a deep breath, appreciating the convivial atmosphere. The bookstore is a sublime sight; words almost can’t describe its charm.

Shelves like skyscrapers—stuffed to the brim with books, magazines, and comics—graze the ceiling. An intimate reading nook lies next to the door; an inviting window seat dwells beside a floor-to-ceiling window. Clear mosaic window clings cover the glass, casting beautiful rainbows throughout the store. Stringed vintage light bulbs illuminate the shelves; candle-lit sconces adorn the top corners of each one. Oriental rugs lay between the shelves, covering a dark mocha floor. Tucked in the back of the store is a small coffee cranny, hidden at first glance. Frank Sinatra’s charming, rich vocals travel through the air, tickling your ears. The owner clearly put the utmost time, energy, and love into the creation of their shop. It is unequivocally perfect and already one of your favorite places.

You wander to the classics section, enthralled by the exquisite covers. Sensing someone nearby, your eyes glance at movement caught in the corner of your eye. Your stomach somersaults at the stunning stranger. The instant you lay your eyes on him, you forget to breathe for a moment—your breath engulfs your throat. You’re astounded by the Adonis of a man before you.

Bristles of scruff grace his defined jawline—his low man-bun neatly styles his dark chestnut hair. A grey short-sleeve button-up shirt hugs his toned arms; a white tank top clings to his lean, fit frame; cuffed slim-fit khaki pants, help up by a bronze braided belt, embrace his thick thighs; and weathered, chunky brown leather shoes don his feet.

Through the rose-colored glasses that surround your heart, your soul imagines a life with a perfect stranger. The hopeless romantic in you can’t help but steal glances, hoping to catch a better glimpse of him. The moment he turns to walk away, your heart sinks to your stomach. You hope this isn’t the last time you see this gorgeous man.

A few minutes later, you’re mulling over a collectible edition of The Catcher in the Rye, attempting to justify purchasing yet another copy of your favorite book. A melodic voice interrupts your pondering. “That’s a pretty edition of The Catcher in the Rye you’ve got there.”

You turn towards the charming voice. Lo-and-behold, it’s the love of your life: the handsome stranger you’ve mentally lived a lifetime with. His beauty is even more profound up close: now you can see that his eyes are a lovely shade of blue. His eyes, haunted by a subtle sadness, draw you in, unlike anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself entranced in his sea-blue current; you could easily drown in his gaze. You attempt to hide your awestruck expression and converse with him like a normal human being. “I agree! I already own a copy though, do I really need a new one?”

“I think we both know the answer is always yes,” he assures.

“Okay, you’ve convinced me. I'll get it! Thank you for justifying my unnecessary purchase.”

Your words hang in the air, everything going quiet as you wait for the ravishing stranger to introduce himself. The two of you stare in silence at each other, the tension thickening as the seconds pass by. After a few moments, his face flashes in realization—you were waiting for his name.

“I’m Bucky,” he offers with an enchanting smile, extending his hand out to you. You share your name as the two of you shake hands. Your eyes stare down his veiny arm to his ring-studded fingers grasped around yours. You allow yourself to imagine for a few moments how amazing those fingers would feel tracing your arms, tangling your hair, and teasing your inner thigh. Your lustful reverie comes to an abrupt halt at the sight of the book nestled inside the crook of his elbow: The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka, the bane of your existence. You scoff with furrowed brows; of course, Mr. Handsome Stranger would be interested in the one book you despise.

“Got something to say there, sweetheart?” he questions with an amused grin.

“Out of all the classic novels in this entire store, that’s the one you chose? The Metamorphosis?”

“What’s wrong with this one?” he jives.

You pause for a second, debating whether it’s worth it to argue with a stranger. The pondering lasts only a few seconds; the exhaustion from your day disintegrates your filter. Besides, you loathe The Metamorphosis.

“What isn’t wrong with it? The dude wakes up thinking he’s an insect? The reader has to sit there throughout the entire book, wondering whether he’s a man or a bug? What the actual fuck? I didn’t appreciate the existential crisis that book gave me at fifteen; if I can help someone else avoid the suffering caused by that monstrosity, I'm going to do my part,” you huff, unamused by the joy Bucky seems to gain from your zealous analysis.

“Wow, what a passionate review! Perez Hilton would be envious of your slander. Okay then, what classic would you recommend instead?”

You cross your arms, expecting him to challenge your response. “The Importance of Being Earnest by Oscar Wilde.”

“That’s a play,” he counters.

“It’s published as a book; it counts! It’s witty, playful, and has a happy ending, which is the most important point of all. It also doesn’t make you want to pull a Fahrenheit 451 and burn every copy in existence,” you attest.

He steps closer to you, tucking loose strands of his hair behind his ear. “Life doesn’t always have a happy ending, sweetheart.”

Great, there he goes again with that freaking pet name; it’s going to be the death of you. He knows your name, you just gave it to him, yet here he is, infuriatingly insisting on calling you sweetheart instead. Stupid pretty boy with his ocean blue eyes and amorous smile.

“That’s exactly the point,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “So, why would I want to read something that doesn’t end well? If I’m going to escape this reality for a while, it better be for a happier one.”

“And if it's not?”

“Then I’ll throw the book across the room and make up my own happy ending!”

“Ooh, aggressive,” he tuts. “The owner of this place might not be too happy with you if you’re throwing books all over the place; it’ll scare away the customers.”

“Then it’s a good thing the owner isn’t here,” you interject confidently, knowing full well you have no idea who the owner is.

“Well, that just isn’t true, sweetheart. You’re looking right at him.”

He’s lying—he has to be. Why would a dreamboat like Bucky own a bookstore?

You scoff, “you’re not the owner of this place.”

“I’m not? What makes you say that?” he banters.

“People like you don’t own bookstores!” you exclaim.

“People like me?” he goads, cocking his head to the side. The action erupts butterflies in your stomach.

“Attractive people!” you groan.

“So you think I’m attractive?” he plays, stepping to close the gap between you.

“Psh, no, you wish,” you muster. The heat spreading across your cheeks betrays your bluff.

There are mere inches between the both of you now; you hope he can’t hear your racing heartbeat. You watch his eyes go down from yours to your mouth and back up again. He eyes you with a smirk, his teeth playfully tugging his bottom lip. It takes everything in your power not to give in to his spell.

“I’ve known you for what, five minutes? I don’t go around kissing strangers, Bucky,” you falter, taking a step back from his closeness.

“Then let’s not be strangers, sweetheart. Grab a coffee with me; I know a nice place, not far from here,” he flirts, gesturing to the counter at the back of the store.

“Let me learn more about what goes on in that pretty little head of yours,” he purrs, his breath tickling your cheek.

“Okay, fine. I’ll have a coffee with you,” you surrender.

A bright, honeyed smile dons his face.

“It better be good, though. Not the stale crap you usually get in the middle of the afternoon.”

“I’d only give you the best, sweetheart,” he winks, extending his right hand. You take it; he gives you a soft squeeze before weaving you through the towering shelves.

Your discussion continues with another passionate book review as he prepares your drink. He’s a sucker for gritty dystopian novels while you gravitate towards sappy romances. He shares his passion for painting as he guides you to the reading nook. The artwork hung on the edges of the bookcases is crafted by him—a detail you hadn’t noticed at first glance. His stunning work features both landscapes and people. He loves to sit in a picturesque landscape and paint for endless hours. Occasionally, he takes his old polaroid as he explores the town, snapping moments between strangers, translating their intimacy to canvas when he gets home.

He gestures for you to take a seat in the reading nook before handing you our steaming cup of joe. You sit with your legs crossed, your hands hugging the mug in your lap. Bucky sits with his leg draped over the side of the bench, his left foot pressing into his right thigh. The conversation shifts topics; the two of you divulge your desires and unfulfilled ambitions. You aren’t sure if it’s the look in his eyes, the sweet cup of joe in your palms, or the aroma of coffee surrounding you, but in his presence, your senses feel wide awake.

Before you know it, the mesmeric moon replaces the sizzling sun, melting away the blistering heat, and the steaming cup of coffee in your hands has long chilled. Bucky’s employee interrupts the blissful rendezvous, informing him that all the closing duties are complete, and he’s headed home for the night.

You stare at your watch in shock—it's five past nine. Where did the time go? You apologize profusely to the poor kid who had to close up alone; he assures you it’s no problem.

A melancholic pit in your stomach forms as you turn back to Bucky. He’s nestled himself into your soul; you don’t want to say farewell to him so soon. He has a sad glint in his eyes; you hope it’s because he’s also dreading the end of this perfect night.

“Can I walk you to your car?” he asks timidly, his earlier suave demeanor gone from his voice. He stands up in front of you, offering his arm to escort you.

“I’d love that,” you reply with a shy grin, grabbing his arm and hugging it tightly.

In the blink of an eye, you’re in front of your car. You let go of his arm and lean against the trunk. You stare into his eyes, hoping that he can see without the use of words how much you don’t want this moment to end. There’s a few moments of painful silence before Bucky clears his throat.

“So, now that we’re not total strangers, how about that kiss?” he flirts with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” you reply with a bashful smile.

He slowly reaches his hand towards your cheek, softly stroking it with his thumb. He presses his forehead against yours. “Are you sure you want to do this? ‘Cause if we do, you might not be able to get rid of me, sweetheart.”

“Yes I do, Bucky,” you giggle.

He grins as he gently presses his pillowy pink lips on yours. The kiss steals all the air from your lungs—his touch sends tingles throughout your body, electrifying your veins. You’re breathless when your lips finally part.

“Let me get your number before I let you go,” Bucky insists. You nod and hand him your phone, unable to form a coherent thought. The ghost of his lips and fingers trace your figure. You’re barely acquainted with his tender touch, yet you feel naked without it, yearning to once again be within his grasp.

You exchange phones—adding your number and name with a sparkling heart emoji and swiftly passing his phone back before you can change your mind. Bucky snaps a quick selfie for his contact, smirking for the camera. You grin when you see he also put emojis by his name: a beetle and a kissy-face.

He pecks your cheek before opening the car door for you. “Hope to see you around, lovebug.” The new pet name burns your cheeks and erupts butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn’t leave the parking lot until your car disappears completely from his view.

You drive home with thoughts of Bucky swirling in your mind. You send a silent thanks to the universe for bringing this beautiful man into your life. His voice, touch, and smile echo in your thoughts for the remainder of the evening—his presence paving its way through your dreams. You’re falling hard and fast; you only hope he’ll be there to catch you.

tagging a few mutuals who expressed interest in this story🥰please fill out the taglist form if you’d like to be tagged in the next story! 💖

@ritesofreverie @midnightf @certainaesthetic

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #mickey-henry #my fic: you're the best book I ever read #mel's writing

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adorerdraco · 4 years

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It’s Only Quidditch ✧ Draco x Slytherin!Reader

Request: can i please request you and draco being in slytherin and dating for a while and you two are on the quidditch team with him so maybe you two are in a match together but you get hurt and he gets worried and has to win the game and visits you after and maybe even wrecks the person who hurt you hehe just fluff and angst

AU AROUND 6TH YEAR NO VOLDY

Warnings: angry!draco, vengeful!draco, VIOLENCE, kinda graphic details like blood and injuries, lil bit of angst

Words: 3.9K (love making these long for no reason)

A/N: ANGRY DRACO IS SO HOT IM SORRY WOW BUT I HOPE THIS IS GOOOOD PLEASE ENJOY MY MADE UP CHARACTER AND MY SUPER LONG QUIDDITCH GAME THAT CONFUSED ME AFTER A WHILE OF TRYING TO WRITE LMAO and i made gif :)

November had begun and with it came the new season of quidditch at Hogwarts along with very poor weather and over-bundling nerves. Tensions had always gotten high around this time of the year amongst the teams and all animosity between the house’s respective players was on the forefront as the competition was building. It was like clockwork every year; captain’s starting strenuous training schedules, begging Snape to help book the stadium even if it was already occupied, spying on other teams to figure out their strengths and weaknesses. Not to mention the arguments that would happen regularly in between the first couple of games when you and your teammates would be accused of cheating or using dangerous and illegal moves. Which did happen to be true most of the time.

It was safe to say that it was the most eventful time of the year, and as suffocating as it sometimes got - you looked forward to it every time the new term started. It was in quidditch that you found yourself feeling the freest in, zipping around the stadium in a flash of green with the wind blowing through your hair and crisp autumn air biting at your cheeks. But most notably, it was in quidditch that you met Draco Malfoy and had quickly evolved from teammates to friends, to him now being your boyfriend.

You made Slytherin’s team your second year as a Chaser, a shiny new broom being given to you on the first day of scheduled training when Lucius Malfoy had made a generous donation that came along with a new platinum blond seeker. With the two of you being the latest additions to the teams, your captain, Marcus Flint, had decided to leave the dirty work for the two of you to do in the downtime every one else was able to enjoy. Marcus never changed that as the years went on.

So you and Draco would be sent off to other teams’ practices nearly every other day or week, depending on how secure Flint was feeling, both of you huddling closely together for sometimes hours behind the thick wooden benches as you watched and studied tactics with conversations in between. You would joke around a lot and call him your partner in crime which he would always roll his eyes to and make a snide and playful comment about even if he secretly loved hearing it. And the two of you stayed partners in crime for a while, neither of you ever making any move towards the other besides lingering touches and longing looks, and very rarely, a shy compliment.

It wasn’t until last year when you were hiding behind the bleachers, bored out of your mind watching Ravenclaw have a flawless run through around the stadium when you were graced with the dumbest idea.

“They’re playing good today,” you drawled out, “too good that it’s boring.”

“You reckon they studied so hard and found the key to quidditch?” He snickered as he played around with a pebble on the ground with his wand.

“We should help them out,” you suggested as Draco turned to raise a puzzled eyebrow at you. “Prepare them for the unexpected, nothing too crazy.”

You took out your wand from your pocket and pointed it towards one of their Beaters that was sitting idly by on their broom, a faint “confundus” leaving your lips that caused the broom to jerk swiftly to the side and nearly topple over its rider.

“You’re a genius,” Draco laughed quietly, repositioning himself so that he was right beside you with his wand directed out into the field. He spotted one of the bludgers flying towards the same Beater and instead of colliding with the bat, he used a charm to direct it into the back of their broom and then doubled it back around to try and hit one of the passing by Chaser’s that moved at the very last minute.

You were a giggling mess, gripping tightly onto Draco’s arm as you watched everyone begin to look around wildly for the wild bludger with panicked expressions. What either of you didn’t realize in the middle of your joyed hysterics and Draco’s smugness for causing the angelic sounds, was that the bludger was flying idly still in front of the bleacher’s as his wand was still trained on it without moving it around anymore, his focus completely gone and concentrated on you.

It wasn’t until you heard someone yell out a, “Is that Malfoy and Y/L/N back there again?!” That made you get up with a sudden jolt, grabbing onto your accomplice’s hand as you ran towards the set of stairs that descended out of the stands. All you heard was distant angry insults and threats quickly fading out of ear-shot while you ran, laughing uncontrollably alongside Draco with his hand still tightly gripped in yours.

When you finally reached the entrance of the empty courtyard of the castle with flustered cheeks and wheezing chuckles, you looked down at your joined hands at the same time he did and after a few seconds of realization and lingering adrenaline, you quickly moved into each other with a yearning kiss that changed everything from that day forward.

Draco stood beside you while you sat on a bench outside the locker room, your head resting lazily on the side of his leg while his fingers carded soothingly through your hair. Marcus was pacing in front of you, using his broom as a walking and pointing stick whenever he wanted to add any calculated words to his very hostile pep-talks that left everyone feeling more irritated and stressed.

Today was the last game of the season and the most important, it was the game that ended the season with a shimmering Inter-House Quidditch Cup and it just so happened to be against Gryffindor, making the stakes much higher than they already were. The matches against Gryffindor were by far, the most dangerous as they weren't afraid to play roughly either if push came to shove. The determination to beat each other and to win was critical on both sides and the day always ended with some sort of injuries.

“I don’t care how dirty we have to play today,” Flint fumed to the team, “I don’t care how many fouls we get, as long as we win.”

“Relax, Flint,” you sighed deeply. “We have the best players on our team and we’ve been working our arses off all season, we’ll be fine.”

“Still, I want to see blood out there,” he muttered back, walking towards the entrance of the field as Madam Hooch started calling your team out to start.

You stood up with a huff, Draco frowning when he noticed how tense you looked when your eyes worriedly met his.

“All right, love?”

“I'm just nervous,” you shrug, “I don’t want to mess up.”

The silver-haired boy moved to stand in front of you, placing two strong hands on either side of your arms to stand you in place so that he would be the only thing your wandering eyes were able to focus on.

“You are the best Chaser that Slytherin has ever had, no, that Hogwarts has ever had and I know for a fact you’re going to do amazing out there,” he cups your face with care, brushing a few stray hairs out of your face as he spoke. “You’ve got this.”

He pressed an encouraging kiss onto your forehead and then your lips, smiling at you supportively before taking your hand and hurriedly walking the two of you out into the field where the match was about to start.

Almost the whole school had shown up in an overcrowded sea of red and gold for Gryffindor. There were red sparks and small fireworks of lions that were charmed to roar when the animal would open its mouth. On one end of the stands, however, was the entire student body of Slytherin that was throwing green and silver ribbons and sparklers from their wands, yelling loudly in support as if their life depended on it. Over the rails, they had thrown down a large poster of a snake that moved around sleekly over large green words that read, “SLYTHERIN FOR THE WIN.”

Rain was lightly drizzling from the grayed dense clouds above, a sharp chill in the air from an approaching winter that always seemed to give the worst weather during the last couple of games of the year. You didn’t mind it since the cold had always felt nice against your sweaty skin during the game and it served like a small revitalizing shock that gave you a surge of energy to push forward with.

Madam Hooch quickly went over the rules, set free the bludgers, and the snitch, forced the two captains, Wood and Flint, to shake hands and by the time she had counted down from three to one - brooms were soared into the sky with such speed it looked like a tornado had formed as she threw the quaffle up into the air.

A roar of cheers erupted from beside you as you got ahold of the quaffle, dashing past your House while you headed straight towards the Gryffindor’s goal post and managed to make the first shot in within the first five minutes of the game putting you at 10-0. You spotted Draco flying around above, smiling down brightly at you with triumph that only fueled your confidence as you darted forward to catch the ball again. You were, just as Draco had said, the best Chaser on the team and in all of the school. You were fast, agile, and smart when it came down to it and you were the reason why your team had easily wracked up 40 points with thirty minutes down in the match. Marcus was always trailing behind you with focus, shoving anyone who tried to get to you or pulling them back by their robes that landed Slytherin a couple of fouls throughout.

You didn’t like to play dirty, but when Katie Bell had rammed into your side either accidentally or on purpose, it knocked the quaffle out of your hands and into one of their other Chaser’s, Rowan Rees, a muscular and tall seventh-year boy that had made the team that same year. With Katie still closely trying to cut you off, you veered sharply into her with your shoulder before breaking away from her and heading towards your goal post where they were trying to shoot.

“ILLEGAL PUSHING FROM Y/L/N, FOUL AGAINST SLYTHERIN!”

You rolled your eyes at the announcer, completely ignoring the boo’s that had filled the air as you whizzed past the other houses even though it was you who got hit first. Just as Rees had raised his arm to score, you flew over him, swooping your arm underneath your broom until you felt the quaffle back in your palm and ripped it from his grasp. The match was becoming more intense by the second, Gryffindor was promptly catching up in points because of the penalties they were awarded from the illegal moves your team was making and it left you feeling more pressured that it was nearly a tie now, Flint reminded you of that every chance he zoomed past you.

Unbeknownst to you, Draco was watching you cautiously from across the field most of the game when he noticed how close everyone was trying to get to you. You didn’t see the way you were almost tugged back multiple times or were missed by inches when someone was about to push you. Or how the Beaters were deliberately directing the bludgers in your direction. You also didn’t see how irked you had made Rees with your constant scoring and with the sporadic few times you had cut him off or almost bumped into him - but your boyfriend did, and he was much more focused on your safety now than the Golden Snitch he or Potter hasn’t spotted yet. Instead of searching for it, he was purposefully maneuvering himself around in front of the other Chasers to throw them off their focal point towards you so that you would have a clearer path to fly through.

He watched as you pulled your broom upwards to try and twist away from the area but Rees had reached out and pulled at your ankle, sending you out of your seat as the quaffle fell while you tried to rebalance yourself. That was all the encouragement the blond needed when he hurtled down into the mess, kicking at the back of Rees’ broom and sending him quickly spinning on a dive before he could try and move any further.

“FOUL AGAINST REES AND MALFOY FOR KICKING AND TUGGING!”

“MALFOY!” Flint roared as he flew past, “Potter’s spotted the snitch! This isn’t your place, get out of here, NOW!”

And when he looked up, sure enough, Harry was going around desperately with an arm outstretched towards the small glint of gold that was moving too fast.

“Go, I’m fine!” You shouted out to him when you flew back up with the ball back in your arms.

It was like slow motion when he forced himself to leave your surroundings, everything around him was moving fast and intensely with everyone screaming wildly that he couldn’t think straight. In a daze, he haphazardly sped towards Harry but noticed the panicked look on the seeker’s face when he had lost sight of it again which directed his attention right back to you. You were right in front of the Gryffindor goal post, arm stretched over your head and releasing the quaffle with a harsh throw.

“Y/L/N MAKES THE GOAL, TEAMS ARE AT A TIE-”

It wasn’t until the very last minute that everyone, including you, had realized the flash of red that came hurtling into your side at full speed, Rees colliding so loudly with you that it echoed around the stadium in a powerful clang and crack.

Draco watched in horror as you were thrown off your broom, your now unconscious body falling like a rag doll with a speed that sent his stress levels into overdrive. He had never pushed down on his broom so fast, immediately abandoning his spot to bolt towards you even as Marcus was screaming at him to not go.

A few feet above the ground and before you met it, he managed to loop his arm around your waist and heave you onto the front of his broom with a slight struggle as it was now raining hard and clouding his vision. He saw Madam Pomfrey and Mcgonagall rushing into the field, hands holding tightly onto their hats as they worriedly rushed towards the area where your broom had fallen and where Draco was hovering over with you.

“TEAMS ARE TAKING A 10 MINUTE TIME OUT!”

Marcus had flown down towards him, face twisted in fury and annoyance as he approached.

“Is there a reason you’re not being a seeker, today?” He spits, “because I’ve been seeing you do everything but your job.”

“My bloody girlfriend just got knocked out!” Draco seethed at him. “I’m not going back into the game, I’m going with her to the hospital wing.”

“Like hell you are,” Flint scowled, “if you leave, you'll forfeit us the game. If you stay and let Potter catch that Snitch so it’ll be over quicker, I will personally make sure that this is your last year on the team. You’re going to win this for us.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” McGonagall called up to him, waving her arms hastily. “She needs to go to the infirmary, immediately!”

The two Slytherins were staring each other down aggressively as Draco contemplated the threat he was just given. There was nothing more he wanted to do than to throw a hex at Flint and leave with you, but he just swallowed thickly and nodded at him before descending towards the ground and letting you off carefully into the hands of Madam Pomfrey. A surge of fear ran through his body when he finally saw you clearly; a harsh red mark was making its way up to your neck, the corner of your bottom lip had split and doubled in size, there was a small scratch on your cheekbone. It made him feel queasy, but he tore his eyes away from you and hopped back onto his broom while glaring angrily at Marcus and the distant group of huddled Gryffindor’s.

He was blinded in rage when the match resumed and even more enraged when Flint had cheered loudly when the announcer granted Slytherin a penalty for the injury Rees gave you, allowing them basically to get a free score in against Gryffindor. Draco let his eyes wander around for the snitch for the first time that day and he could hear his heart thundering in his eardrums in distress as the rain continued to make his search worse. All he wanted was to get out of the game to check up on you, and then he'd come back to the stadium to throw his fists into Rees’ face with maybe a few hits in on Marcus.

Just as he was losing hope, he saw a flash of gold whiz past him with a loud buzzing that shocked him into alertness. He didn’t care that catching the snitch would win the game, or the cup, or give him all the glory, no - this was his ticket out. He dived towards it with his arm outstretched, hand thrashing around in the wind as he tried to eagerly catch it. In seconds, Harry was right beside him, bumping him with his shoulder to try and throw him off the path but Draco only pushed back harder. There was a flurry of shouting as everyone watched, the announcer was yelling into the mic about the seekers going head-to-head, bludgers were flying past him.

It was pure chaos and urgency, Draco could feel the fluttering of its wings beneath his palm and when Harry pushed into him one more time, he felt the coldness of the Snitch get trapped into his enclosed hand, the vibration of its wings sending a current of relief up his arm that spread throughout his whole body as he soared up into the sky while brandishing it to the schools’ painfully watchful eyes.

“MALFOY HAS CAUGHT THE SNITCH, WINNING SLYTHERIN THIS YEAR’S INTER-HOUSE QUIDDITCH CUP!”

Draco hurriedly made his way down to the field where the rest of his house was pooling into, celebrating proudly and calling out for him to praise, but when he landed on the ground and was met with half of the Gryffindor team including Rowan Rees - all his wrath came flooding back into him.

Angelina, another Gryffindor Chaser, had nudged Rowan with her shoulder, pointing towards the Slytherin Prince that was stalking towards them.

“Malfoy,” Rees started bitterly, “sorry about the girlfriend, I was only trying to knock the quaffle out her hands.”

“After she had already thrown it?” He glowered, walking closer up to the boy that was beginning to straighten himself out and flex. “Looked a little personal seeing how she was dragging you through the dust the whole game.”

“Accidents happen, mate,” Rees shrugged, “it’s only quidditch, you won didn’t you? Maybe you should be thanking me for giving you that extra push to win the game.”

A clear line had been crossed and everyone who was listening knew it. But before Rowan could say anything to try and drag himself out of the hole he had just dug himself into, he was being tackled into the ground with Draco above him throwing punches wherever he could land them. There was loud hooting and laughing coming from the Slytherins that gathered around the fight, cheering loudly for their House superior.

Rees was thrashing around on the ground, trying frantically to throw off the extremely infuriated boy that was repeatedly pounding into his face with bloodied and bruised fists. Oliver Wood ran up to the sudden brawl, Fred and George following closely behind him as they all started trying to rip the fighting boy’s apart from each other. Oliver had gotten Draco off briefly, allowing Rees to try and get a hit in but it was dodged at the last second as the blond quickly leaped up to his feet. The fight immediately ended when a muddy shoe had collided with Rowan’s jaw and Draco stepped back satisfied with the damage he had done, roughly shrugging off the grip Oliver still had on his arm.

“It’s only quidditch, right?” He spat venomously from above the Gryffindor who was holding his now battered face in pain. “That’ll teach you from putting your hands on a woman too.”

“Mr. Malfoy!” Madam Hooch bellowed as she broke through the crowd in a frenzy. “50 points from Slytherin, go wait outside Professor Snape’s office for further punishment, go right now!”

Draco did go, and instantly, but he didn’t go down to the dungeons to hear about the lengthy detention that he knew he was going to get and the scolding for being reckless and stupid. His feet carried his sore body up the many stairs that led to the hospital wing, his pace picking up swiftly when he saw the large double doors of the infirmary ajar and he was able to hear a faint and familiar voice speaking indistinctly.

He threw open the doors, walking straight in as if he owned the place and ignored Pomfrey’s requests for him to leave as he made a beeline towards your hunched figure that was facing away from him.

“I need to see her,” he said to the nurse quickly when she stopped in front of him. “I’ll leave soon, please.”

At the sound of his voice, you hastily turned around in your spot to face him, a yelp escaping your lips for moving too quickly through your injuries. Pomfrey stepped out of the way with a sigh allowing Draco to jog over to you.

“I’m going to kill him,” he scowled when he reached you. You were wearing a sling, a deep purple and yellowed bruise quickly set itself over the side of your arm and the same cuts he saw from earlier were still scattered over your features. His fingers ghosted over your skin and he let out a deep shaky exhale of anxiousness before moving his thumb up to graze your cheek tenderly.

“What happened to you?” You asked quietly in shock when you noticed his mud-splattered clothes and tattered fists.

“Long story,” he drawled. “Don’t worry about me, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” you muttered with a slight shrug that made you whimper lightly. “Did we win?”

He nodded quietly, his eyes still scanning sadly over your face with a frown. “I swear, I’m going to kill him.”

“Only if I can help,” you sniggered faintly, trying to make light of the situation and succeeding in doing so when you saw he had cracked a small smile. With his hand still on your cheek, he bent down to press a firm kiss on the top of your hair and then warmly on the side of your mouth that wasn’t bleeding.

“I’ll just let you finish him off then,” he mulled amusingly when he pulled away.

“Finish him off?”

The doors of the hospital wing were thrown open again, a sea of red flowing inside as they carried in a pummeled Rowan with a busted lip, bloodied nose, black eye, and deeply bruised jaw. You looked briskly between Rees and Draco, both of them staring daggers at each other and it rapidly clicked in your mind why your boyfriend had looked like he just walked through a battlefield in your absence.

“Oh.”

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mrsmctominay · 3 years

Note

Could I please request a Jack Grealish long, smut passionate episode, you worked in a hotel Jack stayed in a few months ago and he gave you his mobile number, you have been exchanging naughty photos and messages ever since, clearly both excited by each other, he’s coming back to the hotel for one night and persuades you to meet him and put into reality the sexting you have been exchanging, he’s been telling you the positions he would have you in, the underwear that he likes, and you have been telling him how turned on you get at the thought of you and him naked together, Your nervous and excited, this could be the best night!!!

Hotel Employee- Jack Grealish

* warning: VERY long smut xox* I hope this is what you were expecting... I just let my mind run wild lool I had so much fun writing this.. It’s my favourite thing i’ve ever written eeek

You'd been talking to this boy for a few months, Jack Grealish is name. The thought of him gave your pussy a literal heartbeat. Every time his name popped down on your phone you knew it would be a naughty photo or a dirty text which excited you every time. You've been longing for his touch ever since your first conversation, something about the two of you just gelled. Something about him just gives you butterflies in your tummy.

Jack let you know that he was coming back to the hotel so naturally you were very excited. You weren't working on the day, which was better for you so that your co-workers weren't questioning why you were so loved up with a random guy.

The day finally arrived. You got to make the texts a reality. You made sure to wear the lingerie set that he loves the most to make the experience extra special for you both. You fill with excitement as the day goes on, you just can wait to be together. You will feel his hands on your body and his lips on yours. You will finally get to hear him moan your name in real life and see the way he comes for you- and vice versa.

Your phone pings and it's a text from Jack. It read 'I'm at the hotel pretty one. Get here soon okay?xx'. You instantly got up and got in your car. You couldn't wait any longer to feel his touch. The journey to the hotel felt like it was taking hours and hours, but it was only 30 minutes or so. You updated Jack at any light you were stopped at, you told him how far you were and how you were feeling, teasing him a little by telling him you were farther away than you actually were.

As soon as you get there, you race up to his hotel room, ignoring any co-worker that greeted you on your way up. You didn't want to talk to them, only Jack. You knock on his door and it opens almost instantly, as if he'd been waiting by it for you. "Y/N", he says as he opens the door. He pulls you in by your shirt and kisses passionately right away. You would have thought you had been together for years by the way he greeted you.

Right away, his top was off. You pushed him down on the bed before saying "Slow down a bit baby, enjoy the moment. Let me give you a strip tease". "Sorry, sorry", he says, "I just can't wait any longer to get my hands on you. I need to feel you and taste you in every way". You stand in front of him and slowly remove your top and chucking it over your shoulder. You get close to him and push your boobs together with your hands, slapping his hand down whenever he goes to touch. You turn around and remove your leggings, wiggling your hips and shaking your bum for him. "Wow wow wow. I cannot wait to get a taste of this", he gushes as he places a firm slap on your ass. You put your hands behind your back and unclasp your bra but you hold it up at the cups so to not reveal your breasts to him just yet.

You turn back around and straddle his lap and he places his hands on your ass, you let the bra fall and your boobs fall perfectly in front of his face. "Mmm", he hums as he reaches one hand up and cups one of your boobs, keeping the other on your ass. "Fits perfectly almost like they were made just for me", he says as the two of you fall back onto the bed. You're now hovering over him and he's kissing all over your neck and chest, littering little hickeys all over, just like he said he would. You release yourself from his grip and crawl down to meet his raging erection in his white boxers. You trace the outline of it with your tongue whilst running your fingertips up and down his thighs, remembering that he'd told you previously that this is something that drives him crazy.

You pull down his boxers and his cock springs towards his stomach. I mean, you knew it was big from the pictures and videos but you didn't know it was THIS big. You can see the precum pooling on the tip, the sight of it making your pussy pulse. You lick up and down the prominent vein a few times before taking his full length in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. "Ahh such a good girl", he moans out. "Get up", he says. "Why? I'm not done yet", you reply whilst placing small licks on the tip of his dick in between words. "Yes but I am and it's my turn now. Get on the bed", he demands and you do what he says. "Legs apart and knickers off now please". You don't want to disappoint so you do it, removing your lacy thong and chucking it at his face.

He runs his and through his hair before placing his middle and ring finger in your mouth in order to coat them with a layer of your spit so that he can ease them into your soaked core. His thumb plays circles on your clit as he pumps his fingers in and out of you as he kisses your lips, your tongues dancing. "I want your mouth on my pussy", you manage to moan out. "I like a girl that knows what she wants", he smirks back at you. He removes his fingers and replaces them with his tongue and his fingers are now back in your mouth. "Taste yourself", he says. He hums in delight at how good you taste, letting you know that your flavour doesn't disappoint his taste buds. As good as his mouth feels, you want his dick inside of you. "Jack", you moan. "I need you to fuck me". He looks up at you. "Hmm? What was that? What's the special word princess".

"Please", you beg. It's not a want, it's a need. You've waited so long to feel his length inside of you that you just need it right now. He slides his arms under your legs and pulls you right to the end of the bed. He bends down and places one last suck on your clit before sinking himself into you without hesitation. Your legs go over his shoulders and his mouth latches onto one of your boobs. You're moaning for him louder than you've ever moaned before. He's doing wonders on your body, much better than what he'd explained in the messages.

He's had you in all positions. Missionary, doggy, cowgirl, the lot. By this point, you've both already came about 4 times and he was about to make you have your last. "Cum in my mouth", you say. He just looks at you and smirks. He lays down on the bed and you get on top of him (in the 69 position), sitting on his face as you suck him off. Soon enough, his cum shoots down your throat, coating it with his thick bitter, white seed. You're quivering from overstimulation at this point, his tongue reaching all the right areas. You grind yourself back and forwards a few times as he slaps your ass a few hard times and you cum all over his tongue.

You're drained and totally out of energy as you lay next to him on the bed, panting in unison. "Well, was it what you hoped it would be?", he asks, evidently out of breath, sweat running down his chest and forehead. "Better", you groan out as you roll over and place your head on his chest. "I swear Mr Grealish if I can't walk to my car tomorrow", you giggle out. "Don't blame me, you were all over it", he laughs back at you.

Safe to say you had an amazing night with him and you would most definitely do it again.

#jackgrealishimagine #jackgrealishfluff #jackgrealishblurb #jack grealish smut #jack grealish imagine #jack grealish #grealishfluff #grealish #grealishblurb #grealishsmut #grealish imagine #premierleagueblurb #premierleaguesmut #premier league imagine #premier league

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Note

Prompt idea: Lingerie with Frankie Morales but make it cute/funny? Picture this, you've got all of the fancy bits you've never worn before and you're struggling with the fiddly latches, crying out, "I can't get this shit on!" You finally figure it out, show it off to Frankie and he loves it. But he likes sex best when there's nothing between the two of you, so he works on unwrapping you. You notice his lips stop moving on you for a few seconds before he whines, "I can't get this shit off!"

Tangled Up (Frankie “Catfish” Morales x f!Reader)

Summary: ^^

W/C: 3K

Warnings: uh this is filth. SMUT 18+, oral sex (f receiving), lingerie, unprotected PIV sex (wrap it before you tap it, babes), Frankie has no patience and is rlly strong

A/N: this speaks to me, anon. I love this. I hope you do too!

Frankie already thinks you’re the most beautiful thing on the face of this planet. Every little thing you do is amazing to him, the way you call his name, the way you bat your lashes at him when you really want something.

He’s absolutely obsessed with your body; he’s told you that and demonstrated time after time that he thinks you’re the goddamn prettiest thing he’s ever seen, that your body is absolutely perfect in its uniqueness.

Naturally, Frankie has his favorite pieces of clothing on you, the way they cling to or flow off of your wonderful form. Frankie is a big believer that the body is the soul, and he’s absolutely in love with yours. Anything to accentuate your soft skin, with colors that stand out against the tone of it, drives Frankie absolutely wild.

Lingerie is his favorite. It surprised you at first. Frankie is a patient man, slow and soft when he wants to be, prioritizing you over himself in everything he does but especially in the bedroom. Something like that feels self-indulgent to him, like it’s his one weakness, you looking like that just for him. Then he gets to unwrap you like the best fucking present he’s ever received- yeah, Frankie is really into lingerie on you.

He’s gifted it to you, gone shopping with you to buy it, but his favorite thing is being surprised. The element of shock and sensuality when he’s confronted with the most beautiful body wrapped in such perfect garments is his favorite sensation, next to digging his fingers into your hips and pulling your body against his to kiss you.

You know how much he loves it, and that motivates you to do it somewhat often. The problem is that lingerie is expensive. You usually find yourself repeating outfits for Frankie to rapidly strip from your body, which he clearly doesn’t care about. You look sexy, and he loves it. But you love the surprise, the shock and admiration as he has to run those tough and strong hands over the lace.

Frankie particularly loves dark colors, like black or a deep velvety red, on you. He thinks they look painfully seductive, tempting.

That’s what’s motivated you to buy the piece laying on your bed. It’s black, with a bra and panties and quite a lot of straps, buckles and loops built into it. You’d been hesitant, but seeing it in real life makes you even more excited. Frankie gets home soon; time to get in.

The panties go on easily, obviously. The next part is the challenge. There are straps upon straps, endless slots for you to shove limbs through. You hold it up and frown, not quite sure how to get it on.

Wandering to the mirror, you shove yourself into the thing, making some errors but eventually finding the proper way to wear it.

You look hot: both physically and sexually. There’s a lacy collar, attached to the intersection of the bra. The cups are mesh with lacy decor to cover the nipples, and there are many straps over your abdomen that hook up to the panties. All in all, it’s a complicated number, but you smile as you do a little twirl. Frankie will like it.

The other hot: you’re sweating. It took effort to put it on, lots of odd angles to pull and tug. You feel warm and flushed, so it’s a relief to plop on the edge of the bed and let the cool air of the house get you acclimated again.

You wait, mindlessly scrolling through your phone as you relax on the bed. Frankie’s schedule is far from exact, but you know the 15-20 minute window he’ll arrive home in. Lucky for you, the garage door opens at the normal time he arrives home.

Tossing your phone aside, you perch seductively on the edge of the bed, crossing your legs and leaning back on your arms. “Frankie, baby,” you call into the house as the door opens.

“Hey honey,” he calls back. You can hear him taking off his boots, taking off his jacket. His footsteps ascend with him as he climbs the stairs, and you fidget a little with the lingerie.

He stops in the kitchen, doing something or another. You frown a little. “Frankie,” you call again.

“Just one second, babe,” he chuckles, grabbing a glass of water and something to eat in the kitchen. When he has his things, he meanders through the house and to the bedroom. He nearly drops what he’s holding at the sight waiting for him.

He’s wearing a t-shirt and jeans. Nothing special, but he always looks so good in it. You naturally smirk just at the sight of your man, of how perfect he is. “How was work?” You purr, letting your head loll to the side so he can get a full view of your body.

Frankie swallows hard. “One second.”

You frown and he walks away, putting the water and food back down in the kitchen. He hurries back just to stand in the doorway, staring at you. “I… wow.”

You giggle a little. “I know you like something to tug on,” you tease and snap one of the straps against your skin. The sound goes straight to Frankie’s dick, steadily growing harder in those dark-wash jeans. “Well?”

“You look like a fucking bombshell, babe,” he groans as he walks closer and falls to his knees at the edge of the bed. “Holy fuck,” he shivers as his fingers trace up your bare thighs, sliding beneath the waistline of the panties.

“Glad you like it,” you chuckle and take off his cap, throwing it aside so you can bury your hands in those pretty curls. They’re so soft, fluffy when you run your fingers through them.

Frankie’s lips find your thigh, starting just above the knee and making their way up. “Love it,” he nods, murmuring it into the soft and sensitive skin there. “But you know I like you better with nothing to separate our skin,” he flirts, looking up at you with those round eyes that make you weak.

You shiver under his work, twirling one wave around your finger. “Take at least a little time to enjoy it, baby,” you pout.

He sits back on his knees and nods. “Of course. You know what…” he trails off as he stands, going over to the dresser and grabbing something from on top of it.

He returns moments later with your Polaroid, smirking a little. “Now I can enjoy it longer,” he chuckles as he pops open the lens. “Pose for me, baby girl,” he says, his voice growing darker and deeper as he takes in the sight.

You do, legs spread and chest pushed out, looking at him seductively through the camera. There’s a flash and a click as the camera takes the picture, then the film pops out through the bottom, still black as it develops. Frankie sets it back on the dresser, along with the photo, then stands at the foot of the bed. “How do you suggest I appreciate it, hm?” He asks.

Eyeing him, you can’t help but smile. “Take your shirt off first.”

“Okay,” he laughs softly and pulls off the soft gray tee, exposing his muscles and slight tummy. It’s such a beautiful sight, and your eyes follow the thin trail of hair down.

“Now the belt.”

“Should I just presume you want it all off?” He asks again, tilting his head.

Laughing, you fall flat onto your back on the bed. “Yes. All of it. Off.” You lift your head just slightly, dropping it as you realize it might add a couple of chins.

“No, watch me,” he orders, and it makes you smirk. It’s an easy domination, the way Frankie could do whatever the fuck he wants with you. Neither of you ever agreed upon anything, never made a pact and discussed the idea of something serious, but it’s something the two of you learned over your time of knowing and loving each other. Frankie knows what you like, and you know what he likes: when he gives the orders. When he’s fully nude, his thick cock heavy and reddened, you smile even wider. “What next?” He asks, allowing the role to be played.

You pretend to think about it, stroking your chin. “Well, do whatever you want to me. But the lingerie stays on.”

Frankie pouts. “I wanna fuck you, and I like it best when there’s nothing between us.”

“Then find another way,” you shrug, that devious little smile tugging up the corner of your mouth. “Do something else. Maybe if you’re good enough, I’ll take it off for you and let you fuck me.”

“Oh, you’ll let me fuck you?” He teases as he gets on his knees, one hand on each thigh as he pushes them apart and nestles between them. “How kind.” His lips trace along the inside of your thigh, slowly working their way from the knee to the apex.

You shiver beneath him, wiggling at the anticipation. “I’m giving,” you sigh, any sarcasm you attempt to give lost in a moan as Frankie mouths at your clit through the panties.

“You sure are,” he murmurs, his own body shuddering at the wetness of the lacy fabric covering your slit. His tongue contributes to the dampness, starting at your opening and slowly licking all the way up to nip at your clit through the lace.

“Baby,” you whimper, your hands digging into his hair.

“You told me to take my time,” he mumbles and looks up at you, eyes darkened with lust. “I’m just following orders, baby girl.” He pushes the panties aside and laps at your folds.

A whimper trails from your lips and your back arches off the bed, desperate for more. “God, I fucking love you.”

Frankie traces two fingers through your slick, teasing at your entrance and sitting back on his heels to watch the sight that accompanies the unholy sounds. “You think you love me? I got to come home from work to this,” he groans, taking in the sight of you and plunging two thick fingers inside of you. “Nothing better than this, pretty girl,” he shudders and dives back in, sucking at your clit and tracing it slowly with his tongue.

You keen into his touch, grinding your hips back against his mouth. “Fuck, Frankie,” you cry out as he curves his fingers inside of you, hitting that perfect spongy spot.

“Yeah?” He murmurs into you, his tongue barely resting for a second.

“Yeah, oh fuck,” you shiver. “Baby, don’t you dare stop.”

“Couldn’t if I tried,” he groans, working his tongue harder against you.

It’s all too much in just the right way. The cresting wave that builds inside of you finally breaks as Frankie swirls the sensitive bud around his tongue, and you whine his name as the release pours through your body, making you shake and squirm and moan. “There we go,” he murmurs as he pulls away, your body coming down from its high. “That enough appreciation for you?”

“Plenty,” you nod. “Now fuck me. Please.”

He smirks a little and stands. “Finally,” he chuckles as he runs his fingers over the endless straps covering your body. He snaps one of them against your breast, making the soft flesh ripple. He groans at the sight, of the way your tit bounces against it.

Frankie pulls you to sit up, reaches behind and unclasps the bra. Normally, that would be enough to get you naked, but there’s a neck harness and straps and to be honest, he doesn’t know where to get started. “How the fuck did you get this thing on?” He murmurs.

You laugh a little. “It took me a really long time, honestly. It was hard.”

Frankie sighs and pulls at the straps, trying to find a good way to get it off. His deft fingers search your body for some kind of clasp or buckle, but find none. He unclips the panties from the top, at least, and slides them off, then gets back to working.

His eyes look up at you and he pouts. “Come on. Give me a hint, baby.”

“I don’t fucking know, Frankie,” you laugh, still on an endorphin high from the orgasm moments ago. “I don’t know how this thing got on and I know even less about how to get it off.”

Frankie’s forehead falls against your chest, groaning. “Fuck.” He tries gathering the straps and pulling them up. That doesn’t work. He searches under every strap for maybe velcro or snaps. Nothing. He pushes you back down onto your back.

“Goddamnit!” He groans and his lack of patience gets the best of him. Gripping the straps, Frankie pulls them hard until the straps break, leaving you bare beneath him and completely stunned.

The straps fall to your sides, exposing your full chest and abdomen. “Frankie!” You exclaim, honestly more than turned on from his little show of strength.

“Sorry,” he bites his lip and looks down at you, but you know he’s really not. The tip of his cock is leaking, red and flushed and you know he’d do just about anything to get inside you now.

You giggle a little, the adrenaline from the moment rushing through your veins. “That was fucking hot,” you admit, spreading your legs. “You got me stripped down. Now fuck me, Frankie, please.”

The embarrassment is gone from his face within seconds. “Yes ma’am,” he mumbles, climbing over you and kissing you desperately hard.

You cup his face and hike your knees up around his waist, kissing him back just as readily, tongue pressing against the seam of his lips. He allows you in in the exact moment he thrusts inside of you, making you moan into his mouth before breaking away.

“Frankie,” you whimper as he’s pushed fully inside of you, throbbing and twitching as you say his name. “Fuck, baby,” you whine, his thick cock pressed against your cervix. “You gonna go easy on me?”

“Not in the slightest,” he mumbles back and pulls mostly out before pushing back in, hard. You cry out his name over and over, grabbing at his shoulder blades and back. You can feel the muscles there shift as he pushes, holding himself up over you. His head falls down with a groan as you reach one hand behind him to teasingly tug at his balls.

In return, Frankie lowers himself over you and brings one hand down to circle your clit, thrusting in time with the movement of his worn fingertips. God, he’s so damn good with his hands, always has been, and you whimper that into his ear, moving both hands back up to clutch at his back, nails digging into his skin.

It’s almost a competition of pleasure between the two of you, who can do more of the tiny little things the other loves, who can get the other to their peak first. Frankie kisses at your neck, mumbling sweet words into your skin, crying out as your nails drag down his back. “Baby, please, you feel so fucking good, god you’re so big,” you groan next to his ear, filling it with all of the affirmations he loves.

“You‘re just so fucking tight,” he grunts, thrusting harder and harder into you. You get tighter as you clench around him, and Frankie knows that it means you’re close. “Come on, baby girl. You gonna cum on my dick?”

“Yes, yes,” you chant, head falling back into the bed. “Oh, fuck, Frankie-oh!” You squeal as he hits the sweet spot inside of you once more, his fingers working in the perfect rhythm with his hips to make you fall apart, clenching and fluttering around him as more slick coats his cock.

He groans at the feeling, shivering at the way you clamp down on him. “W-where? Where do you want it, baby?” He asks you, knowing he’s about to burst at any second, the way you’re absolutely destroying him.

“In me, please,” you beg, and it’s an offer Frankie can’t refuse. He lets go, filling you with the hot, sticky seed. You whine at the feeling, desperately gripping his skin.

He whines your name in your ear as he comes down, shivering and pulling out, lying next to you on top of the ruined lingerie.

“That was expensive,” you whimper as you limply toy with a strap.

“I’ll buy you a new set. Two new sets,” he tells you, breathless and sweaty. “God, you looked so good in that,” he sighs, chuckling a little. He gets up and wanders to the bathroom, getting a warm, wet cloth and coming back to clean you up.

The sight of his cum dripping from inside you is almost enough to make him hard again, but he bites his lip and wipes you down, tenderly kissing your thigh. “Thank you,” you murmur weakly and smile down at him.

“Doing my job,” he teases and kisses your knee before cleaning himself off and tossing the cloth in the laundry. When he lies down next to you, he takes the discarded lingerie and throws it off the bed, wrapping you in his arms. “You’re so amazing,” he chuckles. “God, I love you.”

“I love you too, baby,” you hum and kiss his face, nuzzling your nose into the curve of his flushed and dewey neck. “I have stuff to make for dinner.”

The reminder that it’s only 5:00 or so makes Frankie laugh a little. “You don’t have to. You’ve done enough for me tonight,” he murmurs, kissing your temple lovingly.

“Never said I was doing it alone,” you chuckle sleepily, your eyes slipping shut. “You’re helping.”

“Damn right I am. Maybe we take a nap first though,” Frankie says as he pulls you closer in his arms.

“A nap sounds good,” you nod and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too, baby.”

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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years

Text

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts:

Epilogue:

--/--

6 Months Later

“Stop- Katsuki, stop it!” You huff a frustrated sigh, shooting him an unimpressed glare. “Why can’t you just sit still?”

“Because this is takin’ too goddamn long! Waste of fuckin’ minutes.”

“Well this is important to me, so you’re gonna sit back and shut up and-“ You nearly scream when he shifts again, almost dislodging the measuring tape you’d wrapped around his wrist. “Sit still! Jesus, angry man, it’ll literally take two seconds if you just stop fighting me!”

He grumbles, something low and petulant under his breath, but then falls back against the couch fully. Bakugou finally relents, hand going slack in your hold as he shuts his eyes.

You were gonna kill him, no seriously, you were gonna murder him. He was being so difficult, way more difficult than usual, and you had a sneaking suspiscion it was because he was tired- because, as you’d quickly found out, from only a few months of dating, Katsuki was an absolute toddler about sleep. You’d come to understand that him being tired led to him being cranky, and him being cranky led to him being so goddamn annoying and combative that it made you want to tear your hair out.

He was lucky you loved him so much- not that you told him that yet.

You’d known you loved him for months now, could feel it the way your body heated if you thought of him, the way your blood sang if you so much as heard his name. It was a full body sensation for you- the way you loved him. There was just no escaping it; no escaping the way he’d carved himself a spot in every single part of you. You couldn’t imagine life without him, didn’t even want to try- but you couldn’t tell him so.

Every time you’d tried you were tongue-tied and stuttering and red in the face. The words were thick in your mouth, clogging up the back of your throat. You just couldn’t figure out how to say them; no matter how many times you’d tried.

You flip his arm over, measuring the space between his thumb and his wrist. You’re trying to be delicate and gentle, but truthfully you really just wanted to get this done quickly.

With the deadline for your last college project quickly approaching, you’d spent the last few weeks doing nothing but devoting all your time and losing sleep over it. It seemed like no matter what support item you’d devised, it didn’t seem perfect- didn’t seem inspired enough to turn in for your final grade. So you dedicated yourself to watching clips and looked at hero rankings and pretty much sacrificed your social life entirely, just to stew over it. It took watching Bakugou’s own hero highlights with him to snap you out of your funk. You wanted to smack yourself; he’d been in front of you the entire time! Of course, it had to be an item for him. So you got to building and designing with renewed spirit.

Katsuki was an amazing fighter, you knew this, and his prowess in battle and raw power alone was quite literally unmatched by almost every opponent- but, the only thing holding him back was that he didn’t do so well with civilians. Try as he might, Bakugou’s loud, flashy, quirk just didn’t paint him as particularly friendly, and his brash personality didn’t help either. And, since you’d long ago given up trying to soften his character, but maybe you could help with his quirk. You figured that was pretty much your degree right?

So, for the past month or so, you’d been secretly working on a gauntlet attachment for him. You’d designed it to quiet his explosions, similar to a silencer on a gun, in hopes that civilians would stop reporting hearing loss after being saved by your very loud boyfriend. Truthfully, you knew it wouldn’t fix all his problems, but maybe then his ratings would go up a tiny bit. And, you figured, if you then just built the prototype you designed, then it could serve as a birthday present for him too. Two birds with one stone, right?

If only it was that simple.

It wasn’t. You were a perfectionist and you’d been pouring your blood, sweat, and tears for weeks now, but it still didn’t feel like enough. It felt like you were running out of time. Even now, while actively taking measurements for said project, you felt uneasy spending time with Bakugou.

“You done yet, woman?” He peeks an eye open.

“Almost.” You grab your phone, typing the measurements into your notes. “See how easy and quick this went when you stopped being annoying?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to be so fuckin’ annoying if you’d just tell me what you’re makin’ already.”

“Nope. Already talked about this, Katsu,” You let go of his hand. “It’s a surprise! You don’t wanna spoil your birthday surprise, do you?”

You’re joking, smiling widely at him and fluttering your eyelashes. He doesn’t look very amused. Katsuki just squints at you for a moment before poking your side.

“That’s fuckin’ stupid. You’re being annoying. Stop it.”

“Fine. Well I guess since you don’t want it, maybe I just won’t give it to you then.” You tease, moving to leave the couch. “Maybe I just won’t give you any of the gifts I was planning to.”

Katsuki rolls his eyes, huffs like he is very inconvienced, and grabs your wrist. He pulls until you’re falling into him, crashing into his chest and settling on his lap.

“I didn’t fuckin’ say that, idiot.” He grumbles, hands falling around your sides. “Stop putting shitty words in my mouth already.”

“I can’t. Pretty sure that’s my job actually.” You laugh, bracing your hands on his chest as you straighten. “Besides, you say like 3 words and all of them are swears, angry man. Someone’s gotta be the talker out of the two of us.”

“It shouldn’t be you. You’re better quiet.” His words were cold, but he was rubbing warm circles into your lower back. “Fuckin’ silent.”

“Wow- we sure are cranky tonight, huh, angry man? Is it bedtime for baby, already?”

“You’re not funny.”

“No, I’m pretty funny.” You laugh, brushing the the wild hair away from his forehead with a gentle hand. “But seriously though, if you’re tired, I don’t have to stay. I don’t mind, I can leave if you just want to sleep.”

He screws his face up at that, comically offended and dramatic as he drops his face into your shoulder. Katsuki’s arms wrap around your sides, pulling you close until you’re flush against his chest. He tightens his grip and doesn’t seem like he plans to let go any time soon.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, angry man, I get it. I won’t leave right now- but I can’t stay for too long.”

“Why the fuck not?”

“That project, remember? I’m nearly done.”

He huffs again, arms curling tighter around you. You’re a little confused- truthfully, he usually is more physical than verbal, especially when he’s tired, but he’s never this physically affectionate. His voice is a near snarl when he speaks again.

“I fuckin’ hate that stupid as shit assignment.”

“Yeah, well, you hate pretty much everything; so I can’t say I’m exactly suprised, Katsuki.”

“No. Seriously.” He gruffs, fingers twitching at your sides. Katsuki takes a deep breath, biting out his next words quickly. “Haven’t seen you in fuckin’ days.”

“Aww-”

“Say another goddamn word and I’ll take it back, woman. Try me.”

“Okay. I won’t.” You giggle. “But I really am serious, I can’t stay over tonight. Got work to do still.”

“That’s stupid.” Bakugou says and then he’s squeezing you once again, keeping you trapped tight against his chest. “You’re being stupid.”

“Wow. Thanks.” You snort, looking up at him. His mouth is pressed into a tense grimace, so you try patting his cheek playfully. “You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

He doesn’t seem to like your joke. Not at all.

“I’m kidding. I’m not going anywhere.” You console. “I’m only picking on you, you know, so don’t be so sensitive, angry man. You insult me all the time.”

“When the fuck did I insult ya?”

“Katsuki-“ You utter in disbelief, your hand moving to play with the hairs on the back of his neck. “You literally just called me stupid! And you said you liked me better silent! Like 2 minutes ago!”

He shrugs, and you can feel his face heat against your neck, but he doesn’t say anything.

“You’re awfully lucky I like you so much.” You sigh. “Because otherwise I’d have to kick your teeth in every time you opened your mouth.”

“Like you could even get that close to me, shitty woman.”

“Strong words for a man currently making a home in my collarbone, Katsuki.”

“That’s-I- You know what,” He starts, extending an arm and pushing against your shoulders to create distance. “Say shit like that again and I swear to god I’ll...”

“You’ll what?”

“I’ll- I’ll fuckin-“ He stutters, face red and fists clenched. “I’ll-“

You think he looks adorable- all huffy and red and embarrassed where he sits. Katsuki’s eyebrows are pinched together in that competitive crease you’d come to know so well, his mouth curled around a familiar snarl. You were sure it must’ve looked terrfying to anyone else- but you weren’t just anyone else. You were his soulmate and you knew exactly how to get him to calm down.

You caught his face in both of your hands, crossing the distance until your lips met his. Bakugou tried to set the pace, because he always tried at first, armed with bruising pressure and dominance and uncoordinated aggression. You weren’t new here though- you had a lot more tricks of your sleeve than he did.

You ran a hand up his spine, your nails just barely catching on to the fabric of shirt, trailing the back of his neck until they landed in his hair. He damn near melted into you at that, and he pretty much dissolved when your other hand ran under the fabric of his shirt.

“You’re gonna what now?” You asked, pulling away slowly. You’re breathless and blushing yourself but that never stopped you before. “C’mon, Katsuki, tell me. What you were gonna do?”

“I-huh?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot?” You giggled. Unable to help yourself, you pecked his lips again. “You seemed so determined though!”

He’s still dazed- red and embarrassed as he looks at you through half-lidded eyes. You can’t stop the victorious smirk that rolls across your face.

“You’re an evil fucking woman.” He finally says, breathless. “Shitty too.”

“Mhm, I know.”

“Shouldn’t sound so fuckin’ happy about it. ‘S not a compliment, idiot.”

“I know.” You pat his chest, pushing away from him until you’re standing on your own. “Now, c’mon, up. Sleep time, right?”

You see the look on his face, and it almost kills you to crush it.

“No, that doesn’t mean I’m staying, angry man. I’ll take a nap with you and then I’m going home.” You offer your hand out to him. “Sound good?”

"Whatever.” He doesn’t seem all that pleased and he bats your hand away lightly, standing on his own. He starts down the hallway towards his bedroom with stomping steps and you follow. “You better actually go to sleep though- ya got ugly fuckin’ bags under your eyes, woman.”

You stop in your tracks, a wheeze escaping you. It didn’t matter how many conversations you’d had with him, how many times he’d accidentally insulted you with his blunt words, it still surprised you every time. And maybe it was your tired state, all the sleep lost over the past few weeks finally piling up, but his words hurt a little this time- hit a nerve and made you angry.

“Alright, well, on that note. Maybe I will go home!” You huff, thumping a fist against his back. “That was so mean! What the hell, angry man! I’m literally busting my ass right now and that’s what you have to say to me? That I’m ugly to you? That’s fucking rude! I didn’t- I’m leaving. I don’t even have enough time for this anyway and I-”

He spins around quickly, pressing you into the wall as he grabs your arm. You can’t hit him anymore, not with the sturdy grip he has on your wrist, but the look on Katsuki’s face really makes you want to. He looks insulted, tired, but mostly just annoyed by your reaction. You swear you could kill him that moment, but then he’s gathering you into his chest and you’re melting against him. He’s still your soulmate- no matter how angry he makes you.

“N-not like that. Idiot. Not ugly.” He mumbles against your hair, voice tight and shy. You didn’t have to see his face to know he was blushing furiously. “I meant- I- you’re not fuckin’ sleeping. I can see it. So you have to sleep.”

“I-what?”

“I’m not fucking stupid. You’re tired- it’s obvious. Have been for weeks.”

“You noticed?”

“Course I fuckin’ did.” He shifts on feet anxiously, swaying you a bit in your arms. “See your stupid face all the time- I can tell that shit about you.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that.” You pull back a bit in surprise, trying catch his eyes. He won’t let you, eyes zeroed on the wall, just behind your head. His face is a violent shade of red. You roll your eyes fondly, gently guiding him to look at you with your hands on his burning cheeks. “I shouldn’t have flipped, but that still wasn’t very nice. You really should’ve just said what you meant the first time around, but it’s fine. I understand. School’s just been tough with final assignments and stuff, you know? I’m alright though- just a little tired. Like you said.”

Katsuki doesn’t seem pleased with your answer, his eyebrows creasing as he grumbles something under his breath.

“What? Couldn’t hear you, angry man.”

“I said-” He starts strong, nearly confident until his tone quickly falls off. Then he’s mumbling again and crushing you to his chest so he doesn’t have to meet your eyes.

“W-what are you trying to say?”

“God, you always make me say such embarrassing shit!” He growls, voice loud next to your ear. “I said- I said- you’re doing too much, idiot! You haven’t been around much and it’s fuckin’ makin’ me mad and worryin’ me and all that stupid, disgusting, annoying, shit! So just give yourself a fuckin’ break, already!”

You’re pressed close to Katsuki, and when you press you hand flat against his chest, you can feel his heart racing wildly under your fingertips. He must’ve been upset about this for a while, you realize- to be expending this much energy, when usually he’d be dead on his feet at this time of night. You feel a little guilty for it, but more than anything you’re gooey and warm all over.

“I-I’m sorry. For worrying you.” You soothe, pressing a chaste kiss to his chest. “And I know you tell me not to apologize to you, but I mean it this time. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.”

“Good. I-”

“Hmm?”

“N-nothing.” He stutters, flushing violently all of the sudden. He spins on his heels quickly, dragging you down the hallway and into his bedroom. “You have to stay now.”

“No- I can’t. I told you.”

“And I fuckin’ told you to chill the hell out and take a break.” He barks, digging through his dresser and throwing a pair of sweats at you. “Stop being fuckin’ difficult. You’re staying.”

Truly, you want to fight him. Your brain is running wildly, a million different ideas and worries battering around inside your skull- but he’s right. You are tired. Have been tired for weeks now. If you went home now, you knew you’d just talk yourself into working some more. So maybe a tiny, tiny little break wouldn’t hurt, right? Just something small. A single night.

“Fine. But I’m leaving early tomorrow morning.”

You knew you made the right decision when he smiles at you; a small, tiny, pleased, little thing that just barely curls the edges of his mouth. It seems like it’d be hardly noticeable, but you’d been dreaming of that smile for months now. He very rarely graced you with it, very rarely shared something so delicate and uncharacteristically soft but it winded you every time.

Katsuki fell asleep almost immediately after pulling your down into bed with him. He’d barely curled around you, hardly even let his head hit the pillow before beginning to snore. That smile stayed though. He kept it even as his breathing slowed and his grip on you loosened.

That same overwhelming warmth you’d been feeling for weeks overtook you again- that same blistering, endless affection rendering your limbs shaky and your breaths unsteady as you stared at him.

I love him. You realized. More than anything.

--/--

As it turns out, letting Bakugou drag you into some much needed rest is exactly what you needed.

The next morning you’d left his place, mind refreshed and completely reinvigorated to once again start working on the gauntlet attachment. You’d love to say it was just the sleep that fixed you up- but you knew the truth. It was him- him and increasingly strange ways of showing affection.

Settling down into your desk chair, you pulled the schematics you’d drawn up once more. There wasn’t much left to build, only a few more parts you’d need to fabricate with your quirk, and then you’d be ready to put it all together.

Using past records of his costumes, and studying various clips of him in his current costume, you’d finally felt certain that you’d gotten it right. It was a pain conducting the research, especially because you’d had to contact the support companies personally, but in the end you were happy you did it. You wanted this to be a possible improvement for him, but you also wanted it to fit in with his current arsenal. It was a risk for sure, giving your prototype as a gift, and you’d be totally crushed if decided to not use it, but you’d take the chance.

Bakugou had only mentioned the problem a single time in the past, and even then it was a passing comment, but you couldn’t seem to let it go.

I’m sick of kid’s always fuckin’ cryin’ when I save them. My explosions aren’t that fuckin’ scary, are they?

He’d said it in the middle of a rant, his eyes pressed tightly together as he paced angrily, but something about his tone struck you. When he said it, he didn’t sound angry. Bakugou sounded upset and frustrated and almost hopeless. You knew it bothered him more than he let on, and from then you wanted to help him- but you couldn’t imagine stripping him of his quirk.

It, his explosions, were important to him. They were his power and his pride and they helped him save people. He was so, so proud of them, and it broke your heart to think that they were the only thing left holding him back. So, you figured, what if he kept the force but lost the sound? Kid’s normally liked bright lights a lot more than loud sounds, after all.

Grunting with effort, you began fabricating gears and wires and screws between your hands. It took hours and nearly all of your energy, but you’d finally done it. You had everything you needed to finish his gift.

The next few weeks flew by in a flurry of construction, and deadlines, and sleeplessness but by the time his birthday rolled around, you were ready. Your schematics had been turned in and approved by your professors, you’d passed your final project, and you were finally finished building the prototype. Everything was going great- but you knew why you were really happy.

The last few weeks had been packed for you, and you’d hardly had time for anybody. You felt guilty about it, of course, and you only felt worse when you only heard Bakugou’s voice over the phone each night, but there was no helping it.

Or, at least, there wasn’t- but it wasn’t crunch time anymore. You’d suddenly found yourself with an wealth of free-time, and you knew exactly who you were gonna spend it on.

--/--

Using the key he’d given you, you slipped into the apartment, closing the door quietly. It was difficult in the dark, stumbling slightly with the gifts and cake currently held in your hands, but you’d managed it. Everything had gone smoothly on the way there, you’d just put the cake safely in the fridge, and now you could wake your soulmate up to the best birthday of his life.

What shame he had to go and ruin it.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

You jumped, heart seizing in your chest.

“Jesus- fuck.” You yelled in the dark. You blindly felt your way out of the kitchen and into the living room, towards the sound of his voice. “Bakugou! What the fuck, man?”

“What the- no! Me! I should be the one fuckin’ saying that!” His voice was raised, and you couldn’t see his fists but you knew they were probably clenched tightly into fists. “Almost blew you up, idiot! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oh my god.” You huffed, hands rubbing at your tired eyes. “I was going to wake you up! Surprise you! Because it’s your birthday and it’s- wait, what the fuck are you even doing up? It’s like 6:30 AM, on a Saturday!”

“What the hell are you even on about? I’m always fuckin’ awake right now!”

“Yeah! On a work day! When you’re working!” You can’t help but be frustrated; you wanted to be cute and sweet and Bakugou had ruined it entirely. As he so often did. “But you’re not even working today! It’s your day off! And I know you sleep in on those, so why?”

“Couldn’t fuckin’ slee-”

“What do you mean?” You interrupt, finally flipping the light switch and flooding the room with light. “Swear to god you’re dead to the world the second you hit the pillow! Literally happens every time I stay over. You’re out by 8:30! Why is today of all days the day you choose not to sleep?”

He doesn’t say anything in response to your outburst, and that’s when you finally look at him. It had been almost 3 weeks since you’d last visited, and he didn’t look like you remembered him. It wasn’t anything super obvious at first, but upon closer inspection you could see the deep bags under his eyes, and the pale, lifelessness of his skin. He was telling the truth; apparently, he really hadn’t be able to sleep- and it didn’t start just last night either.

“Hey. Katsuki,” Your irritation from earlier faded. Suddenly filled with concern, you stepped towards him, taking his face in your hands. Bakugou tried to turn away, but you didn’t let him. “What’s up, huh? You alright?”

“Fine.”

“No. You’re not. You look tired. Are you sick?”

“No.” He mumbled, his hands falling on your waist as you stood in front of him. “I’m fine. Workin’ a lot or whatever. I’m fuckin’ fine.”

You nod, eyebrows rising in surprise as he suddenly pulls you in. He presses his face into your stomach, arms around your sides as he shuts his eyes. There it is again- that unusual physicality. This strange behavior had stopped for a while recently, but now it seemed to be back in full-force.

“Do you wanna try sleeping again?” You ask after a beat. “I’ve got birthday stuff for you, but we can do always do it later. We’ve got the whole day, right?”

“What- you plannin’ to actually be here or some shit?” He grumbles, with a lot more intentional bite than you’re used to hearing from him. “I’m surprised. Didn’t know an idiot like you still had the fuckin’ brain cells to remember.”

You’re shocked, rendered completely still and stiff in his hold. Was he- was he mad at you?

“What?” You try to push away from him, to get a look at his face, but he doesn’t let you. Bakugou’s arms only tighten and you’re left even more confused. “Are you upset with me? Are you tired? What’s wrong?”

“You really fuckin’ piss me off.”

“What?”

He only growls under his breath, voice raspy and deep. “Whatever. You don’t fuckin’ get it. Let’s just go to sleep.”

“No- but I-” You stutter, feeling out of place. Katsuki sounded so frustrated and angry and you couldn’t figure out what was wrong. “If you’re upset with me we need to talk about it. What happened? What’s wrong?”

He doesn’t respond to your question, only knocks your feet out from under you and stands with you in his arms. You’re dumbfounded. He has never, not ever, carried you anywhere. He’s never even made an attempted to lift you! Something was seriously off with him today- and you couldn’t for the life of you figure out what it was.

Katsuki was mad at you. You knew that, he’d said it himself. But then why was he carrying you down the hall to his bedroom? Why wasn’t he kicking you out?

He kicks open the door, pushing it shut loudly behind him. He looks pissed when you look up at him, his eyebrow’s creased together in an agitated line, but even so, Katsuki sets you down on the bed gently. You’re hardly able to catch your breath when he’s climbing in on the other side, pulling you close and lying practically on top of you.

“What? I- Katsuki?” You asked desperately, brain reeling. “What’s wrong? I don’t understand?”

“I’m fuckin’ tired, woman. Go to sleep.”

“I can’t! Not when you’re upset like this- seriously, what’s wrong?”

“You. You’re what’s fuckin’ wrong!”

“What?”

“God, you’re so fucking dense!” He growls, angry voice vibrating against the skin of your neck. “Fuckin’ showin’ up in the mornin’ like nothin’s wrong? Been avoiding me for weeks now!”

“What- no! We literally called last night! What are you talking about?”

“We called for 2 fuckin’ minutes before you fell asleep! And you-” His voice drops suddenly, and then he’s pressing even closer to you, starting up once again. “You piss me the hell off, you know! Sayin’ shit about how you’re gonna do better and then leavin’ for weeks? Not talkin’ to me? What the fuck is that? And then you sneak in here and scare the shit out of me! And you’re running your stupid fucking mouth about the whole day when you’re not even gonna be her-”

Oh. Oh.

He was mad because you’d been busy; because the last time you’d seen him, Bakugou had told he was worried about you, and you blew him off. The last time you’d seen him, you’d promised that you’d take better care of yourself and then you didn’t. All you did was continue working yourself to death, and while you didn’t regret it for even a second, you hadn’t kept him in the loop. You’d barely even managed to call him each night, and even then you’d fall asleep half-way through every conversation.

“Have you been worried this whole time?” You asked quietly.

Bakugou takes a deep, shaky breath, and you can feel his eyelashes flutter against your neck.

“You were worried.” You whisper. “Weren’t you?”

He nods minutely.

“I-I didn’t realize. I told you- but I didn’t realize. I was so focused on school, so busy, I’m so sorry.” You press a kiss into his hair, your heart sinking when his shoulders tremble. “I missed you too.”

“I didn’t fuckin’- I didn’t-”

“I know. I said it. I’m saying it. I’m sorry, Katsu. I missed you.” You sigh, tightening your arms around him. “Is that why you’re not sleeping well?”

Bakugou is silent but he tenses, going completely rigid under your hands. Your stomach drops.

“It’s-I’m good. Really, this time. Everything’s done. I’m completely finished and everything is gonna go back to normal.” You cradle his face, making him look into your eyes. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t think. We’re good.”

“Are we?”

“What?”

Bakugou shakes your hold, tucking his head until you can’t see his eyes anymore. You can hardly see any of his features, but you see the wobbly line of his mouth. Can feel the shaking of his fingers. When he speaks again, it’s quiet. Barely there.

“Didn’t mean it, last time, when I said your eyebags were ugly. You’re not ugly.”

You blink, hardly able to recall the conversation. Wasn’t that the last time you had visited? Weeks ago? Why was he still thinking about it?

Bakugou huffs again, apparently frustrated by your silence.

“So I’m s-sorry. For insulting you. So now you don’t have to disappear again.”

Your eyes widened.

“You know though, one of these days you’re actually gonna have to start using your nice words- can’t just continue insulting me or I might just disappear forever.”

You remember how upset he’d been when you’d made the joke- how his shoulder’s dropped and his eyebrows caved and his mouth smoothed out into a thin line. Was that really the last time you’d visited? Did he think you were mad at him this whole time?

Guilt flooded you, awful and thick and viscous as it tore through your stomach. You had to make him understand. You just had to.

“No. I- Katsuki. Look at me. Look at me.” You insist until he’s looking at you. His eyes are the dullest you’ve ever seen them- more vulnerable than ever before. “I didn’t- I was just busy, I promise! Not upset. I didn’t mean to ice you out like that. It’s fine! I know you didn’t mean it.”

Katsuki growls, grasping for your hand and hiding his face behind it. “I didn’t- I’m sick of stupid angry shit I say ruinin’ stuff for me. So don’t just fuckin’ say it’s fine if it’s not.”

“It is. I promise. We’re good.” You soothe, caressing his burning cheeks with your knuckle. “That was a bad joke, okay- I didn’t mean it. I wouldn’t have said it if I knew it was gonna make you worry so much. I promise I was just busy these last few weeks. Nothing you say is ever gonna get rid of me, alright? Not even if you tried! Because I love you and I-”

“You what?”

You freeze, shifting uncomfortably as your cheeks heated up. This was not how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to tell him like you meant it, not just tacked onto the back of a bunch of other statements. He’d heard though, and no matter what you wanted, you couldn’t run from it.

“You what?” He asks again.

“I-I love you. Katsuki, I love you.”

Bakugou jolts, nearly jumps out of his skin and then he’s digging his face into your neck. He’s hot, his skin nearly burning, and there’s a strangled, clipped noise leaving his mouth. You’re filled with so much adoration in that moment that it nearly chokes you, but it’s freeing too, because you’ve said it. Finally. After waiting your entire life for him, after knowing him for so many months, after loving him for so long, he knew.

“I love you.” You repeated again, giggling breathlessly. “I love you, you dummy.”

He finally lifts his head, expression so full of awe and disbelief and childlike confusion. It’s just like the first time you’d really kissed him; like he couldn’t figure out why you loved him. It was like those first few days all over again and you couldn’t help it. You loved him so much.

Grabbing his chin, you pulled him in, guiding until his lips met yours. You felt him smile as you kissed him, and you realized you were wrong. That first real kiss might’ve been nice; but it wasn’t heaven- itwas only the gateway to paradise. But this? This was the real Elysium.

His body moved against yours, so close and warm and pliant. He was letting you set the pace, without resistance or force or argument for the very first time. There had been a lot of past kisses, you had hardly been able to keep yourself off of him, but none of them had never felt like this before. He’d never trusted you like this before. You got to be the one taking and taking and taking where’d you spent so long giving.

It was consummation. Finality. Your perfect ending.

You pull away, panting for breath. He follows, resting on his forearms and dropping his forehead to yours.

“I-I- I love you. Too. Idiot woman.”

You laugh under him, cackling loudly as you turn to press a kiss into his forearms. Of course he’d said it like that. It’s tough love or not at all with Bakugou Katsuki- and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Stop laughing!” He orders, face screwed up uncomfortably. “You’re always fuckin’ laughing at me! You fuckin’ witch! Stop it! It’s- I’m not- I take it back! I don’t- stop makin’ fun of me, shitty wom-”

“Hey, Katsuki?”

“Oh my fucking god! You laugh at me and then you go thinkin’ your just gonna interrupt me while I’m yellin’ at you? No fuckin’ way! I’m not gonna allow that shit in my own fuckin’ house and I-”

“Katsuki.”

“Jesus christ! What?”

“I love you.”

He freezes entirely, collasping his entire weight directly on top of you. He’s so hot it’s like his skin is burning. You wrap your arms around him with a happy giggle, burrowing your own blushing face into his hair.

“I love you.” You whisper, slow and earnest against the shell of his ear. “I really, really, really love you, angry man.”

He startles again, jumps in your arms and only seems to run hotter. He groans something strangled and defeated, until he’s sinking into you again, pressing you against the mattress.

“S-s-stop fuckin’ saying it. You’re doing it on fuckin’ purpose.”

“Doing what?”

“You fuckin’ know, you witch woman.”

“No, I really, really, dont.” You say indulgently, laughing as you drop kisses into his hair. “Care to share?”

“No. Fuck no. I’m fuckin’ done sharing. Forever.”

You rolls your eyes, once again enduring his very familiar dramatics. “I wasn’t laughing at you, Katsuki. I was just happy to hear it- that you love me too.”

“Well, remember it, because I’m never fuckin’ saying it again.”

“Not even if I say it to you?”

“Especially not fucking then.”

“You’re so difficult sometimes, I swear. You’re really lucky I love you so much.” You say softly, before scratching idly at the back of his head. “Now, c’mon. Get off me. I didn’t forget- you need to go to sleep.”

“I’m sleeping here.”

“No you’re not, you man-child. You’re gonna crush me.”

“Good.”

“No, not good. You wanna celebrate your birthday with a murder charge?”

“Yes.”

“Katsuki.” You laugh, pressing against his chest. “Seriously. Up. You’re supposed to use those muscles to save people not kill them.”

He just groans loudly, flopping backwards gracelessly. Katsuki is pulling the blanket up and shutting his eyes, and you think everything is finally okay. Until he clears his throat. Until keeps clearing his throat.

“Oh my god,” You huff, opening your eyes. “What’s wrong now?”

“Say it again, idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t be fuckin’ stupid. You know what I’m asking you.”

When you look at him, he’s got his eyes screwed shut, his cheeks red. You thought he was adorable- just the cutest man in all of Japan. You knew what he was asking, of course you did, and if he hadn’t been so upset earlier you would’ve made him work a lot harder for it. As it stood now though, you just scooted closer to him; shifting until you were right next to his blushing face and sharing the same pillow.

“I love you.” You say, running a gentle thumb over his heated cheek. “Now go to sleep, okay?”

You can see the smile he’s fighting, the way his lip twitches and he raises a hand to cover it. Then he’s pulling you close and digging his head into the pillow.

All is quiet, and finally, finally, he gets some sleep.

—/—

Katsuki, on a good day, was an absolute beast to wake up- on a day off however? The man was damn near impossible to stir.

You were squatted next to the bed, trying to pull the pillow out from under his head as he held it in his grip. It was absolutely unfair- even at his groggiest your soulmate had the strength of a one man army. It was seriously pissing you off.

“Are you kidding me right now?” You’re grabbing at his wrist, trying to pry his fingers away from the pillow but he’s not budging. Katsuki’s got his eyes shut tight, and he’s dutifully ignoring your every word. “I’m serious! It’s noon! Get up already!”

He finally peaks one eye open, just barely enough to see your irritated expression. Katsuki huffs, rips his pillow away from you completely, and flops on his other side. His back was to you, and normally you’d be thrilled about the free chance to drool over the planes of muscle- but this wasn’t a normal occasion. It was his birthday and you’d already made him breakfast and he was refusing to get up and eat it.

“Bakugou Katsuki, I swear to god, if you’re not up in two seconds, I’m not gonna kiss you for a fucking week!”

This does seem to illicit a response from him, because then he’s flipping back over, mouth pulled into a snarl.

“You think I care? You starved me out for fuckin’ weeks already!”

You want to roll your eyes. You thought he was being awfully dramatic and you knew you really shouldn’t stand for it- but he wasn’t technically wrong. However inadvertently, you had been neglecting him, and maybe it was time to treat him instead. Just this once.

“Oh my god, you silly man, come here.” You relent, climbing onto the bed and hovering over him. “If you wanted a kiss you should’ve just asked.”

“I-didn’t! When the fuck did I say that because I-”

You pressed your lips to his, effectively shutting him up. It was a trick you’d learned early on, but damn if it wasn’t still useful. You pulled away right when he started to get handsy.

“No. Bad.” You say, batting his hands away from slipping under your shirt. “I didn’t just waste all that time trying to get you out of bed just to be pulled in. Now, c’mon, you have breakfast to eat and presents to open- it’s your big day, birthday boy.”

“Fuckin’ exactly. Let me do what I want.”

“No, because if I let you do what you wanted you’d sleep all day and only wake to go blow something up.”

“Sounds like fucking bliss.”

“Alright, well then I guess you’re gonna have to experience nirvana all by yourself because I’m going to eat.” You pat his chest, climbing off the bed and standing straight.

Bakugou grumbles under his breath, but then the blankets are rustling and he’s rising to follow you out the door. He tears into the breakfast you’d made him, shoveling eggs and bacon and pancakes down his throat at an almost inhuman pace. You would cringe, but you’d seen this scene already many times before.

“You ready for presents, now?” You ask, putting the dishes in the sink.

“Sure. ‘m not a fuckin’ kid though, you didn’t have t-”

“I wanted to. Seriously. So be quiet and be a little selfish for once. Please.”

He nods tightly, following you into the living room. He’s settling on the couch, once again rubbing at his eyes when you bring the gifts over. There’s three of them in total and he chooses to open the smallest one first.

“Fuck- this a new watch?”

“Yep.” You nod. “To replace the one you blew up last month.”

“When the- how the hell did you-”

“I have my ways. Now, seriously, promise me you’re gonna be careful with this one.”

“Okay.”

“Katsuki, that’s not a promise.”

“I’m not gonna just fuckin-”

“Say it.”

“No! Why the hell should I have to fuckin’ say shit just because you were spyin’ on me, you freak!”

“Katsuki.” You glare him down. “Promise me.”

“Jesus fuck, woman. Fine. I promise I won’t blast this one to pieces, alright?” He rolls his eyes. “Ya all happy and cheery now?”

“Very.” You smile brightly, moving to grab the second gift and place it in his hands. “Here’s the next one, open it.”

You watched him set the watch aside carefully, before taking the second gift. He might’ve been grumbling, but he couldn’t completely hide the smile trying to stretch across his face. You were glad you made the effort- he deserved every good thing and more.

“This is a jar.” He says flatly, looking down at the unwrapped gift. “What the hell?”

“It’s a swear jar. You know, for practicing how not to offend everyone within a .2 mile radius.” You deapan, taking the excess wrapping paper from him to throw it out. “You gotta work on it, Katsu- news has to censor you so much that your public appearances sound like EDM music.”

“I’m gonna blow this up.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I am.”

“No. You’re not.” You laugh. Then you lean towards him, sidling up close and lowering your voice as you run thumb across his jaw. “And, hey, if you figure out how to make it through the week without filling it up, I’ll give you something really, really nice as a reward.”

“Reward?” He’s asks, quickly putting down the jar. You know the look in his eyes, and you’re not surprised when his hands wander to your waist. “’s empty now, right? Think I fuckin’ deserve it. Huh, sunshine?”

“Nope. Sorry, Katsu.” You smile sweetly, dodging as he leans in for a kiss. “It’s saturday- week doesn’t start until tomorrow!”

He groans, loudly, falling boneless against the couch and tugging you with him.

“You make me want to blow my fuckin’ self up. You know that, you shitty woman?”

“Aw, thanks. Now, cheer up- you’ve still got one left to open.” You say, patting his grimacing face.

You shake his hold, just barely avoiding when he tries to pull you back as you grab the last present. This box is a little different from the last two, you’d spent extra time trying to make sure it was wrapped nicely and you’d even tied a ribbon around it. You hoped he’d like the gauntlet attachment- you didn’t think you’d be able to hide your disappointment if he didn’t.

“Yeah, so this next one,” You start, placing the box in his hand delicately. “I made it for you myself. Designed it too.”

He pulls the ribbon on the box, tearing away the paper. It’s like time stops for a moment, rolling nerves arresting you and choking your breath. You’re nervous and you feel like shaking and you so desperately want him to like the gift. Want him understand just how much work you’d put in for him and just how easily you’d do it all over again.

“Yeah so it’s an attachment for your grenade gauntlets, right?” You start, right when he’s pulling the device from the box and holding it in his hands. “I was thinking- wouldn’t it be nice if you could quiet your explosions sometimes? You know, for when you’re saving civilians and kids and stuff so they’re not so scared. Basically it works kind of similar to a suppressor on a gun, dispersing and slowing down the blast just a little to muffle the sound, but it’s just a little more high-tech and way more powerful- to match your quirk. Obviously. And it’s adjustable so, if, for whatever reason, you needed to wear it outside of your costume, you can collapse it slip it on like a bracelet and-”

Bakugou is silent. He’s almost frozen as he stares down at the gift, only twisting the gift around in his hands to get a better look. His eyebrows crease, and your stomach drops.

“No- it’s- please don’t get mad! It’s not supposed to offend you or anything! I-I know you don’t need my help to save people, you can do it all on your own, I know that.” You rub your arm anxiously, eyes averted to the floor. “I’m just trying to help- you know, because you always talk about your ratings going up, and I’m sure you could totally do it on your own, I know you could, but I just wanted to help you cause that’s what I do, support, and I can’t help you out on the field and I-”

Pop.

Pop pop pop pop pop

When you finally look up at him, you’re blinded by the smile on his face. It’s bright, and beaming, and brilliant as he fires off explosions. You can see the light dancing on his hands, the force of combustion shooting his arm back, but it’s quiet. It sounds like pop rocks and bacon grease and popcorn instead of cracking thunder and collapsing buildings and then he’s laughing- he’s laughing something full and joyful as he stands, holding his hands up right next to his ears and setting off more explosions.

“You hear this shit?” He yells, that wide smile dazzling you all over again. “Fuckin’ works!”

The nerves disappeared, the tension seeping from your body entirely as he grinned at you. It was worth it. Entirely worth it- you’d give anything, start all over and do it all again from the start just to see that smile.

“You wanna hear?” He asks suddenly, nearing you with his hands raised. “Listen!”

“No! No- I’m- I’m good, Katsuki.” You laugh, batting his hands away from your head. “I can hear it just fine from here, no need to singe my hair.”

“I wouldn’t-”

“I know.” You smile up at him, poking his broad chest. “So you like it? Right? Because it’s just a prototype, first draft, you know, so if there’s anything you want to change about it, let me know. Or if you just don’t want it I-”

“I’m fuckin’ keepin’ it.”

“Huh?”

“I’m keepin’ it. It’s cool as shit.” He smiles down at you, eyes crinkled at the edges. “Besides, stealth, right? Could blow a fucker up in the next room and you wouldn’t even know it!”

“But I- I made them for you to save people? Like to help them?”

“And they could be used to blow shit up more effectively too. Win fucking win.” Katsuki pulls you in suddenly, arms falling familiarly around your waist. “Good shit, sunshine. Thanks.”

“Of course.” You sigh, looking down at your feet. “That’s what I was doing- when I was gone. Designing it for my project grade and then building it for you. Sorry I got so carried away, I didn’t realize I was gone so long, you know?”

“You’re still stupid for it, but it’s fine. Fuckin’ get it.” He grumbles. “You’re done now or whatever, right?”

“With school? Yeah I mean, I’ve still got graduation and stuff but otherwise I’m pretty much-

“Move in with me.”

“Huh?”

“God, you always make me fuckin’ say it again!” He flusters, voice loud and raspy. “I said- move in! Here! You’re fuckin’ disappearin’ all the goddamn time to wherever the fuck and I’m sick of it!”

“Y-you want me to move in?

“That’s what I just fuckin’ said! Idiot!” He thunders, face a violent red when you look up at him. “And I’m not gonna fuckin’ say it again so you either have to say yes or no because I-”

“Yes. Obviously. Of course I’ll move in!” You say, warmth filling your chest as you throw your arms around his neck. “I love you, of course I will!”

You see the smile he can’t contain- one so dazzling and arresting, as he looks at you. One exactly similar to the brilliant one from earlier. You couldn’t believe that sentiment made you emotional- the thought that you made him just as happy as explosions did, of all things. But it did make you emotional. It really, really, did.

“What’re you- stop cryin’.” He says suddenly, calloused fingers catching your tears. “Why’re you cryin’? I didn’t even say anythin’ rude this time!”

“No, it’s not that.” You sniffle, grabbing his hand and kissing his knuckles. “I’m just happy. Really, really happy. I love you, you angry fucking man.”

Katsuki leans in for another kiss, and you don’t dodge it this time. You meet him in the middle and melt into him just as much as he melts into you. You can feel his hand under your chin, the other on your back, and you don’t think you’ve ever been warmer than in that moment.

You’d been waiting your entire life for him. For all of this. You were warm and loved and so very, very happy that it nearly knocked you off your feet.

Or it would’ve- but when your knees weakened he just held you closer, righting you without missing a beat. You suddenly loved him for that, and for everything else too. You loved him for all that he was and his angry words and his subtle gestures. He was sizzling gunpowder and sharp steel and seared ashes, but he was the softest landing you’d ever known too. There was no hitting the ground with him, and he’d never let you fall alone.

You’d know Katsuki was forever since the day your tattoo appeared, but it didn’t truly sink in until you’d learned to love him. Until you’d known him. Now you knew him like the back of your hand; you saw his face behind your eyelids, heard his voice in your dreams, and thought about his touch every waking moment. He was your other-half, as scary and loud and intense as he was, and you wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

He pulls away suddenly, and when you glance up at him he’s staring right at you.

“I love you.”

Your breath catches. You thought you were thrilled to hear the words last night- but it was nothing in comparison to now. Bakugou was finally looking at you, catching your gaze and holding eye-contact and his voice was soft like you’d never heard it before. His tone was bare, no anger or attitude or bite- just him and three little words that took your breath away.

In that moment, Katsuki is the only person in the entire world. There was no one else and no other conclusion, and of course you ended up here. He was the only ending you’d ever surrender to. The only finality that could ever possibly taste so sweet.

And suddenly, all at once, you loved him all over again.

//-//

i- sob. plS this was so much fun to write and im gonna miss it sm !!

once again, thank u to everyone who liked and commented and reblogged any part of this! this is the first ever multi-chapter fanfic i’ve ever written , and i really really was nervous about my characterization and writing and stuff, but you all made me feel so welcome here. i appreciate it sm. way more than any of you know.

anyways, thank u once again for reading lovelies and i hope u all stay safe. i love y’all. <333

#bnha bakugo katsuki #mha bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou katuski x reader #bakugou katsuki x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou x self insert #bakugou x y #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou soulmate textfic #bnha fic #mha series #mha soulmate au #soulmate au #bakugou imagine #bakugou series #bakugou fic

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outhereinnevada · 3 years

Note

Could I please request some fluff/smut with Auditor? Thank u

WOOOO! Alright, time for the first NSFW fic!

Warning: NSFW content ahead. Minors DO NOT INTERACT.

Anyways, onto the fic! Enjoy anon!

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Relieving love - Auditor x Reader Smut

You've known the Auditor for as long as you can remember. Long before Nevada was thrown into madness.

When he founded the AAHW, he made you his second in command knowing that you had very similar ideals to him. If he was out and taking the day off, you would be put in charge.

The Agents and Engineers really loved having you around, you always made sure that they were well taken care of, especially the MAGS. The MAGS really enjoy just holding you in their hands to talk to you about whatever they had their minds on.

Auditor was very appreciative for your hard work in his absence and loved that you took the time to make the Agents and Engineers feel welcomed and readied in the AAHW. You were essentially a therapist for them.

------------------------------------------------

Another rough day for Auditor, a lot of shit went down. Hank and his crew raided the base that the Auditor was at that day, very few got out alive, but he finally got home. Closing the door a bit harshly, he sat down on the couch with his head in his hands, obviously stressed out.

"Auditor? Are you alright dear?"

He looked up to see you crouched in front of him, you took his hands into yours feeling the tension he radiated. He sighed, letting himself calm at your touch.

"It was another rough day, the base I was at got raided by Hank and his lot. Very few of us got out of there, a lot of casualties."

With a soft gasp, you placed a hand on his cheek. He nuzzled into it, putting his own hand on top of yours.

"Oh Audi...thank goodness you weren't harmed. I don't what I would do without you."

His body heated up, he adored when you used that nickname. The flames around his body got a little more wild.

"s/o...you know I get flustered when you call me that."

You giggled, sitting next to him, you threaded your fingers around his flames playfully. He kept getting more and more heated until he snapped. He turned to you and gripped your wrists, your surprised, blushing expression staring right at him.

"Audi?! Wha-what are you-"

He quickly cut you off, seeming incredibly desperate for some reason.

"I-I'm sorry s/o, I c-can't stop myself anymore. You're just too irresistible."

You stared into his loving gaze, you knew what he wanted, what he needed at this moment. You gave soft smile before slipping out of his grip and giggling. Shocked, he turned his tomato red face toward you.

"Well, you'll just have to catch me then!"

Not wasting a second, you ran around the house. Auditor catching onto what you're doing, got up and started to playfully chase you. You ran around for a bit before running into your shared bedroom and jumping onto the bed, with Auditor following your actions and landing beside you.

You two laughed for awhile before Auditor got back into his previous mood, his body once again heating up. Hovering over you, his hands placed beside your head he leaned closer to you. Your face now turning more red from how close he was.

"Caught you~"

His voice became huskier, a sign that he became needy. You looked away shyly, burying your head into your arm.

"W-well, here's your prize then."

He chuckled, you knew you were in good hands with that laugh.

"Oh darling, you're in for a treat tonight~"

He gently pulled your arm away from your face and brushed your hair away from your face.

"I wouldn't want anything less~"

That set Auditor off, he leaned in to give a brief kiss on your lips before slowly moving to your neck. The light licks on your neck gave you sudden chills before he started to lightly nibble and suck on it, giving you hickeys.

"Au-Audi."

You let out a soft moan indicating your pleasure. He decided to take it a step further and really bite down. A sharp gasp emanated from your submissive form.

"AAH, please...a bit more gentle."

He reeled back a bit. Noticing, you put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him.

"I apologise s/o. I'll a bit more gentle for you."

You kissed his cheek, a sign to keep going. He kept biting and sucking on your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. A yelp from you signalled that he found it.

Continuing to abuse your sweet spot, he snaked his hand up your stomach to your chest. You raked your fingers through the flames atop his head, your breaths hot and heavy.

He chuckled heartily at your flushed expression, proceeding to toy with your breasts as he left a few more hickeys on your neck. You decided he need some pleasure too, you lifted your leg to grind against his crotch. He let out a subtle groan, his face coated in red.

"Oh~ You want to play that game do you my love? Very well."

You didn't even notice that your shirt and bra were gone, before you could respond he started to nibble and suck on one of your breasts and massaging the other with his hand. The bliss was too much for you, you became putty within The Auditor's hands.

"P-please, I-I need you more. Just-jus-."

You couldn't finish your sentence as you let out another lustful moan.

"I could make you wait longer, but that would just be cruel of me~ So let's just get to the point."

You smirked, getting an idea. Before he could try anything, you flipped him over putting him on the bottom. You revelled in his shocked expression.

"Sorry dear, but I believe that you need some attention as well."

You quickly unzipped his pants and pull down his boxers, letting his cock spring up, the tip leaking with anticipation. You ogled at the grand size of it. You gently laid your fingers on the shaft, even the lightest touch got Auditor worked up.

"Wow, you really were holding out for me weren't you?"

Letting out warm, shaky breaths, he gripped onto your shoulders. You rubbed the inside of his thighs before pressing your soft lips against the head of his length, lightly sucking on it. Auditor gripped the sheets hard out of the sheer amount of satisfaction he was receiving.

"Ke-Keep going, you're doing so wonderfully-"

Multiple whimpers and moans escaped him, interrupting himself. This only prompted you to go down on him properly. Slowly taking more of his member each time he let out even a single noise, you pumped whatever you couldn't fit in your mouth.

The Auditor was in absolute ecstasy, he could barely speak. Your tongue swirled around the shaft as if you had done this many times before. You had taken in so much that it was hitting the back of your throat and you started to choke and gag.

"s-s/o. I-I'm-AGHH!"

Without warning, Auditor shot his load deep into your throat with a strained groan. You tried your best to swallow every drop of his seed as to not make a mess on the sheets. Finally ceasing, you released his cock from your mouth with a satisfying pop.

"Goodness, you...you were really pent-up. That was a lot to swallow."

Gazing into your tired eyes, he laughed to himself. He flipped you back to bottom position, a hungry look in his crimson gaze.

"I don't believe we're done yet, since you so rudely interrupted me when I was trying to please you."

He swiftly removed your pants along with your panties, he wiped two fingers on your opening rubbing his fingers together taking note of the wetness.

"Hmm, already soaking wet and I've barely done anything to you. Let's fix that shall we~"

Plunging the two fingers deep into your slit, he scissored you wide open to prep you for the ravaging he was about to give you. You tried to hide your increasingly high-pitched moans but the pleasure was just too much to keep quiet about.

"I hope you're ready s/o because once I start, I won't stop until I'm satisfied."

The threatening but alluring tone of Auditor's voice sent you into a downward spiral of lust and want. Removing his fingers, he lined himself up to insert himself into you. Leaning closer, he could feel how hot your breath was against his skin.

"Please...be gentle, it-it's my first time and feel it might break me if you go too hard and fast."

He caressed your cheek, giving you a gentle kiss. He rubbed the tip of his shaft against your entrance seeming eager to pop your cherry seeing as he was your first.

"Don't worry, I'll make sure you aren't harmed. That is a promise."

You nodded, slowly but surely he pushed his way into you. With every bit of his length that pressed in, you let out a strained but pleasured whimper. Finally hilting himself within you, the tears finally ran down your cheeks. He tenderly wiped away the tears and rested his forehead against yours, awaiting your signal to go.

After a couple of minutes, you shifted and a sultry whine was your response. Given the all clear, Auditor wasted no time getting into a rhythmic pattern. You wrapped your arms around him tightly, nails scratching his back which only made him speed up. Your lewd yelps and screams were music to his ears.

"Yes, keep screaming my dear, let me know that I'm giving you what's rightfully yours!"

You were tightening around his member by the second, each thrust leaving you seeing stars. Not wanting to be the only one, you bit down his neck and started leaving your own hickeys on him though they wouldn't be as noticeable as yours.

Your body trembled against his, his movements were getting slower and sloppier. You couldn't hold it in anymore and he neither could he.

"AUDI!"

"S/O!"

At the call of each others names, you both released, there was so much cum that it leaked out of you, so much for not making a mess. Finally coming down from your highs, he pulled out seeing all of the excess fluid, he quickly cleaned you and himself before pulling a thick blanket over the both of you. You buried yourself into Auditor's side as he flopped down next to you, snaking an arm around you to pull you close to his radiating warmth.

"That...that was amazing."

"I agree, you did incredibly well for your first time. I'm proud of you."

You giggled as he planted a kiss on the top of your head, petting your head as he lulled you into a peaceful sleep before falling asleep himself.

"Goodnight s/o, may your dreams be pleasant tonight."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

WOOOOOOOOOOO! FIRST NSFW FIC IS DONE! I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS ANON CUZ I SURE DID.

#madcom x reader #madcom reader insert #madness combat reader insert #madcom auditor x reader #madness combat auditor x reader #madness combat x reader #smut writing #madcom auditor #madness combat auditor

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duskholland · 4 years

Note

Mob!Tom au where there’s an opening at one of his nightclubs. Y/n wears something really revealing and he tells her to change. She says no and he demands more sternly and she rolls her eyes but complies. She comes downstairs wearing sweats and is snarky and sarcastic with him and he decides to fucks her brattiness out of her and makes her spend the night at the club with his cum dripping down her leg💌

okay so I normally stay away from the whole ‘change your outfit because I don’t like it’ trope because it always reads just a bit too controlling for me, but then I read the last part of this ask and I knew I had to somehow make it work… so, I hope you don’t mind that I changed up a couple aspects! the core ideas remain the same :) // nsfw; 18+ don’t touch this if you’re a minor !!!!!!

warnings: a lil bit possessive in the dirty talk, fingering, unprotected mxf sex, a lil bit of spanking but it’s not a sesh, cum talk...?

“What do you think?”

You hold your hands in the air as you slowly turn, the hem of your dress floating up into the air as you do a small spin. You’re in a new dress - a gift from your boyfriend Tom, who sits up against the headboard, stroking his chin as he watches you move. You feel amazing - radiant, eternal, serene. The dress hugs your figure perfectly, emphasising your best features, and you feel hot.

“Wow.”

You come to a still, looking up at Tom with a wild grin on your face. He looks good - tired, but good. It’s early evening, the blinds drawn across the bedroom window. He’s in a tight white shirt, rolled up to the elbows, and his chestnut mop lies messily across his forehead. He wears the day well, looking tired but still controlled, and his eyebrows rise as his focused brown eyes sweep your figure. You feel his gaze caress you, rolling over the rise of your boobs, the curve of your hips, the exposed expanse of your thighs.

“Well?” You say, hands going to your hips. “You bought it for me, what do you think? Because I think it’s the perfect thing to wear tonight.”

Tonight - the opening of Tom’s newest financial venture, a nightclub across town. You think the sparkly tight dress is perfect.

“I don’t know,” Tom mutters. He sits forward, the bed creaking as he rests his elbows on his thighs. The shiny Rolex strapped to his wrist glints. “You look fucking stunning, angel, but…”

You feel your grin drop, and you tilt your head to the side. “What? You don’t like it?”

“No, no.” Tom holds out his hands, beckoning you closer. As you slip your fingers into his, he brings his lips over the knuckles of your left hand, eyes sparkling with adoration. “You look too good,” he says, voice ringing through the air. His lips curve into almost a smirk. “I don’t think the attention would be on the club if you come out dressed in this.”

Your eyebrows pull together as you look at him, chuckling lowly. “And? You got it for me to wear tonight.”

“Yes.” Tom kisses over your knuckles again. “I just think I made a mistake.”

“Brilliant.” You step away, frown growing. Your excitement at the new dress fades, and you walk briskly over to the dresser, pulling open one of the drawers with a pout on your face. You look back at him reproachfully. “Care to tell me what an appropriate outfit would be, then, Tom?” You’re pulling out sweats and leggings, even go so far as to loosely throw a pair of your comfy sweatpants in his direction.

Tom scoffs, turning the material in his hands. “I never said you couldn’t wear it, love,” he says, voice a little tighter. “Just that I hadn’t imagined you’d look so…”

“So what?”

“Beautiful.” Tom stands from the bed, approaching you like a lion stalks his prey. You bite your lip as his hands go to your waist, pushing you until you’re up against the bedroom wall. One of his palms goes to ghost over your neck, slender fingers pushing your hair away from your face before cupping your cheek. His eyes are like shimmery diamonds. “You look ravishing, darling. And maybe I don’t want to share you with everyone else tonight.”

He’s close - so close you can smell his rich cologne, feel the warmth of his breaths as they come out across your face. You bring your hands up to rest around his neck, the tips of your fingers playing with his hair.

“Well, you’re going to have to, because I’m not changing.” You run your fingers through his thick brown hair, smirking when Tom raises a brow. “You bought me this dress, I’m going to enjoy it.”

“Fine.” Tom’s hands shift down, both of them curling around your figure to rest on your lower back. He teases you, letting his grasp dip down to rest on the curve of your ass, and he grabs handfuls of your soft skin as you whimper softly. “I’ll just give you something to remind you who you belong to.” He ghosts his lips over your neck and you feel your cunt clench. There’s nothing that riles you up as much as Tom flexing his dominance like this.

“How are you going to do that, eh?”

Whilst one of his hands stays on your ass, the other shifts forwards. Tom knocks your thighs apart and weaves his fingers between your legs. A soft moan falls past your lips as you feel his fingertips brush up against the front of your panties, soaked already. He presses a very wet kiss to the pressure point of your neck, lips soft as he dips his fingers into your panties and slowly strokes through your folds.

“Gonna have you screaming my name,” he rasps, lips at your ear, “Gonna make you forget about anyone other than me. Then…” He pauses, listening to the whimper you release when he slips two of his slender digits into your hot cunt. “Then, I’m going to fill you up with my cum, leave you with it dripping down your legs all night.”

You toss your head back, your skull pushing into the wall as you listen to the sounds of your wetness being fucking relentlessly by his hand. Tom’s got his thumb on your clit, rolling the tender bud with teasing circles, all whilst two of his fingers stroke against your hot passage, knocking up against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Tom,” you say, eyes squeezing shut. You know he’ll do it - know he’ll delight in the way you shift around uneasily all night with his release slicking up your thighs. Your cunt clenches around his digits as you imagine the night ahead, the hours you’ll spend trying desperately to keep his cum inside you. The prospect of parading around in his tiny dress, all whilst leaking his seed down your thighs makes you throb. “Please.”

“Oh, you want that, hm?” Tom nips at your neck, sucking a very deep hickey to your sensitive skin. “Dirty fucking thing, eh?”

Your breaths come out laboured now, pulled tight with exertion as your chest heaves. There’s a warmth in your stomach that builds with each thrust of his fingers.

“Yeah,” you moan, straining. “Want to know I’m yours.”

Tom slowly slips his fingers from your hot passage, swallowing your whines of complaint as he kisses you roughly. “Get on the bed, angel,” he murmurs, lips brushing yours, “Hands and knees.”

You’re unsteady on your legs as you wobble to the mattress, pulling your dress up until it’s bunched at your waist. Next, you tend to your panties, kicking them away before climbing onto the edge of the bed, shifting into his instructed position. You stay near the edge of the mattress, knowing Tom tends to take you from standing when you’re down on your hands and knees like this, and you’re rewarded by the feeling of his hands smoothing over the curves of your bare ass.

“Perfect,” he coos. You lose his touch for a brief moment as the sound of his belt releasing fills the air, but then Tom’s caressing you again, his touch firm and warm against your skin. “Fucking perfect, darling.”

You gasp as you feel his cock, stiff as a rod, moving through your folds. He brushes up against your clit, teasing you with a light pressure until you’re bucking down against him. “C’mon Tom,” you urge, fingers closing into fists around the sheets. “Take me.”

Tom curses lowly before burying himself between your legs, finding home in your cunt as he sinks into you in one slick thrust. You hiss, the sound mellowing into a deep rumbled noise of enjoyment as he immediately pulls back, only to thrust back into you a moment later. He’s slow at first, easing you into it, but when you start to pull at the sheets and grind your hips back to meet his thrusts, he picks up the speed.

“There you go,” Tom murmurs, letting a hand fall down over your ass. The sting of pain makes you whine, your head dropping down beneath your elbows as you gasp for breath. Pleasure rockets out from your centre, doubling each time the tip of his cock brushes up against that sensitive zone buried deep inside you. “Such a pretty thing. So pliant for me, aren’t you? You’d take anything I give you.”

You can only nod, your grip on the bedsheets slipping. He’s pounding into you, holding nothing back, gripping your hips and keeping you fixed firmly in place.

“You want it, don’t you?” The sounds of skin against skin mix with his words. “I know you do. You want everyone to see my mess between your legs. You want them to know that you’re mine.”

“Yes,” you mutter, voice twisting around the syllable. When Tom hears the desperation in your voice, he curls a hand around your waist and brings it down to fondle your clit. The stimulation makes you clench around him, your head spinning as you feel your climax drift closer. “Fuck, I want them to see it,” you find yourself saying, voicing your innermost desires, “Want to feel you dripping down my thighs. And when it stops, I want you to fill me up again.” Your voice tapers off as a loud moan travels up your throat instead - the product of a particularly hard thrust. “I’m so close.”

“Go on,” he urges, grip on your waist slippery. “Cum, darling. Let me feel that pussy pulse for me, hm? Make me cum.”

You release a moment later, your arms shaking as your head falls against the mattress. Tom’s strong grip on your waist holds you up, and as your walls flutter around his cock, you feel him peak too. The sensation of his cock pulsing, coupled with the hand that he has stimulating your clit just prolongs the wave, and you’re writhing against the sheets for what feels like blissful eternity.

He slows, finally, only pulling out after he’s leaned over to press a soft kiss to the base of your spine. Tom delicately helps you up, your weight shifting onto your shins until he encourages you to your feet, fingers returning to your waist. Your lips meet, and you look up into his eyes, meeting his mischievous brown orbs.

“How was that?” Tom asks, fingers going to your dress. He carefully arranges the material, pulling it back over your hips, your bum, your thighs.

Now upright, you can feel his cum slowly beginning to drip from your hole. You clench your walls, moaning softly at the sensations. You know you’ll be doing it all night, trying desperately to hold him, and when you fail, you know he’ll bend you over in the club bathrooms and fill you up again.

You lick your lower lip, smirking up at him darkly.

“Fucking fantastic.”

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