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donutloverxo · 4 years

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Soooo there are many fics where reader makes steve jealous and it ends in rogh possesive fcking.. but what if steve tries to make reader jealous and it totally backfires and she becomes extremely insecure?? But please with a fluffy ending because my poor heart can’t handle anything less 🥺🥺

Hey. Thanks for the request and I hope this fits. *gif is not mine* Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

"Um... yes?" You asked as you brought down the hand which was holding out a twenty dollar bill - since you thought it was the pizza you've been waiting for, for like the past half an hour, and not a blond, six feet and some inches,tall super soldier.

"Hi... doll," he smiled.

"My name's Y/N," you corrected him as you frowned, so fed up of men undermining you by calling you such 'sweet' nicknames. You knew Captain Rogers wasn't like that, but still you couldn't have him getting any ideas.

"Right," he cleared his throat as he repeated your name. "Sorry," he said with a toothy grin, which almost made your heart melt.

"How did you get my address, Captain?"

"Tony gave it to me. I would've asked you at work... but I wanted to do this the right way."

"Do what?" you quirked a brow.

"Um, I maybe people aren't as formal nowadays," he sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, "But I can't really change who I am... not so late in life anyway," he cringed as he realised he was pretty rambling then, taking a deep breath he gathered enough courage, "I wanted to ask you to come with me, as my date, to the valentines party this Sunday."

You hummed at that, considering it because damn if Rogers wasn't convincing. Even when he wasn't as authoritative and dominating as he is when he puts on the suit.

It would be nice to be courted and treated nicely, and to not have to put up with the shit most men try to pull with you, you were sure Rogers would show you the time of your life. Besides, only an idiot would say no to him.

"No." You said with a finality that left no room for debate. "Is that all?"

"Uh... I... yes..." he stammered, not exactly prepared to be turned down so bluntly. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't shit where I eat."

"What?" his eyebrows cutely scrunching up.

You just knew you must've touched a nerve with your crass language. Tony, your boss, had told you about Cap and his 'language' incident.

"I don't date people at work... it can get complicated," you explained as he nodded.

It wasn't a complete lie. You didn't want to be known as the 'easy' girl or have others gossip about you. But that would be a sacrifice you'd willing make for someone like Steve. Who'd dare make fun of the Captains girl anyway?

You had been smitten with him from the moment you saw him, learning about his bravery and sacrifice as a kid you looked upto him and respected him, but when you met him in real life... you were a complete goner. Your stomach did somersaults every time he touched you, or hell even looked your way.

You tried your best to flirt, which was basically you stuttering and trying to make small talk whenever you had a chance to talk to him. Since he was born almost a century ago he would probably be offended if you were the one to make the first move.

You continued your back and forth for weeks before he told you about her. That he'll be visiting her over the weekend. You simply nodded, having a vague idea of who Peggy Carter was but not of what she went to Steve.

After some research you found out that she was an old flame of his, someone he couldn't marry and build a life with because he was frozen for decades. Upon seeing her many qualifications, and just how freaking brilliant she was, you knew one thing.

You may not be as smart as her, but you knew that you could never measure upto a woman that incredible. Someone Steve still visits after all these years. You were already afraid that he was out of your league but now you were sure of it.

"Did I do something wrong?" he wanted to know.

"What do you mean?"

"Well," he shoved his hands in his pockets, his bottom lip jutting out in a pout, "It's just that you used to talk to me all the time... and now it seems as if you're ignoring me. Is it because of something I did? Whatever it is I never meant to hurt you," he swore.

You sighed. "It's nothing you did, really. I just realized how incompatible we are. I hope you find the one you're looking for, someone who'll make you happy and give you the world. It just won't be me."

You didn't let him say anything closing your door instantly as you kept your tears at bay.

At the valentines party

"Cap," Tony said, slapping a hand on Steve's shoulder, "I thought you'd have her on your arm tonight. What happened?"

Referring to his assistant. He wanted to play cupid this once, since it was the season of love, he wanted to see his idiot friends happy. He was sure you both would be disgustingly smooching and all cute at the party. But not only had you both shown up separately, you seemed to be actively ignoring Steve.

"She uh... rejected me," he said, looking down into his glass of whiskey. It didn't do much for him but it helped him blend in.

"Ouch," Tony winced, "I was sure she would go for you. But I guess I have been wrong before," he shrugged.

"Really?"

"Yeah. She goes all heart eyes whenever you're around. But I guess that's nothing unique since that's just how most women act around you," he scoffed. "You should read all the love letters you got today. I was going through them, you have quite a passionate fanbase of people who want to... what was it..." he pretended to think hard about it. "Yes, 'ride your bicep', I don't understand the physics of how on earth that would work, but I am intrigued."

"Tony," Steve rolled his eyes as he always does when he's around the billionaire. "I don't really care about all of them... they don't know me. I only care about her and I don't know why she said no, but there's nothing I can do about it."

"Whoa, you're accepting defeat so soon? Where's that I-can-do-this-all-day attitude?"

"This isn't a war, Tony. If she doesn't see me that way... then there isn't much I could do."

"Maybe she's just playing hard to get. There's absolutely no way to really know what goes on in womens heads, Rogers. They're so smart and sneaky... it's kinda scary actually."

"I don't think she'd play games..."

Tony had gotten distracted pretty quickly and left Steve alone to pout and only appreciate your beauty from afar. You had worn a pink dress with red hearts on it, and for some reason, you got more beautiful every time he looked at you.

"Hello."

He jerked when he heard the foreign voice, looking at the blonde woman next to him, with her hand out, he shook it just to be polite.

"I'm Crystal," she smiled, flashing her sparkly white teeth.

"I'm Steve."

"Of course I know who you are!" she laughed, "You're Captain America, everyone knows you," she playfully hot his bicep before squeezing it, "Oh my... you must work out a lot."

"Uh... yeah..." he nodded. He could never get used to how people perceived him so differently.

"There is something I need to know really bad," Crystal blinked as she looked up at him, "Do you wear underwear in those suits? They seem really tight, wouldn't it be uncomfortable?"

"Oh, um... we just sort of..."

You had never looked at yourself as a jealous person. Maybe things were different when it came to Steve... he was a pretty special guy.

When you looked at him, talking to some girl, dancing with her, laughing and having fun with her, it was as if you were on fire from simmering rage, at the same time you could feel your heart breaking in a million pieces.

You knew it was wrong. You had no claim to him, he can do whatever he wants. If you said no to him then it makes perfect sense that he seeked out someone else.

You just had to get away for some fresh air, so you wouldn't abandon all class and pull the girls hair and drag her away from your Steve.

You yelped when you heard him call out your name.

Looking over your shoulder you saw him staring at you, his brows scrunched up, he looked so worried. But why?

"What're you doing here? You'll catch a cold, doll," he takes off his blazer, putting it over your shoulders and then groaning when he realised his slip up.

"Right, sorry, old habits die hard. I won't call you that again, I promise," he said, crossing his finger over his heart.

"No... I think it's kinda sweet. No ones ever had such an endearing petname for me. I do like it."

"Oh," he frowned, "it's just that you said you didn't."

Tony, of all the people in the whole universe, was right. There was no understanding women.

"I guess I lied..."

"Why?"

"Um..." You were at a loss of words and nervous. Steve wouldn't tolerate lies, and you didn't want him to hate you. "It was easier to do that then tell you the truth."

"What's the truth?"

"I do like you... a lot. But I don't want to live in someone else's shadow. And I just think the whole thing would end in a disaster..."

"What're you talking about, Y/N?"

"Peggy. Your first and only love. I can't measure upto her, not in my wildest dreams, there's no use trying."

"Why would you have to measure upto Peggy?"

You opened your mouth to answer, but couldn't really come up with an answer. "Why wouldn't I?"

"I did have feelings for her, but that was a long time ago. I'm happy she lived her life, it just wasn't meant to be."

"So, you're not still in love with her?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have asked you out if I was."

"Well, what about Crystal? You were practically glued to her the entire evening!" you huffed as you stomped your foot. Mad at your own stupidity. You could've simply told him the truth and asked for a straight answer. "I have to warn you, she had was pretty crazy in the last season."

"Last season?"

"Mm-hm, the last season of her reality show, I've seen all eight seasons. Maybe they just amp up the drama, maybe she isn't actually crazy, I wouldn't know," you shrugged.

"Doll," he smirked, circling a hand around your waist and pulling you into him, "are you jealous?"

"I am not!" you gasped, looking away from his eyes as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"I don't want anyone but you. Why would I? You're goddamn perfect. And... I want you to be my girl."

"I guess I don't really have a reason to say no now..." you murmured, your face still flustered as you played with the buttons on his shirt before he tilted your chin up to make you look at him, placing his lips over yours in the most tender of kisses.

"Got the job done, Tones... I'm pretty sure I saw him go after her, I have to say though, you look at Captain America, and you really don't expect him to be that awkward..." Crystal said as she sipped on her gin and tonic. "You owe me."

Tony only hummed, not too happy about being indebted to someone, but you both needed a necessary push in the right direction.

#berry answers #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #captain america x reader #steve x reader #steve rogers x you #marvel x reader #avengers x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you

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yutahoes · 3 years

Text

Music, Dance

loosely inspired by the lyrics of Music, Dance by NCT 127

pairing : gunman! Yuta x stripper! Reader

genre : smut, slight fluff

warning : Alcohol, Lap Dance, Slight striptease, Teasing, Lots of hickeys, Breast fondling and sucking, Oral - Female and Male Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Gun, Mention of killings, Drugs, Cursing

(I would also like to warn you about a badly written scenario with a badly written smut 😅)

word count : 5.5k

(Please forgive me. I went all out and crazy over this 😭)

summary : You are his star, the hottest, the shiniest. He is your music, the only one you wanted to dance to.

For @neosmutcollective ‘s 3rd Event: Risqué

She's the star. The gem shining brighter than the lights illuminating the place.

And his gaze can't leave her.

The way she walked to the platform, full of confidence with a cocky expression, attracted him. She knew full well that all eyes were on her. And they are, as they should be.

She smiled at the people before holding the pole on stage, swaying her hips along with the bass music booming through the speakers. The flickering lights made her sultry movements shine. Her haughty smile at the men who crave for her, made him breathless. As her body swayed on the music, she playfully attempted to remove her red brassiere which made the men holler.

Who wouldn't? She's perfect. Her voluptuous body. Her sinful movements. She's addicting to look at. A real jewel. Her eyes caught his and she winked, making him smirk. A strain on his pants is evident. All this, because of her. Only her.

His star.

She smiled the moment she came inside the door of the private room. "You're here…" she started, strutting in red high heels. "Senpai."

Yuta smirked. He might be here too often. But can he blame himself when this is the only place he can go tonight? "You don't like it?" She laughed, sitting beside him on the red velvet couch. She poured beer on his half-filled glass, drinking some and leaving a red lipstick mark on the glass then handing it to him. "You're wearing lipstick tonight." He claimed, drinking beer on the same glass.

"I'm not in the mood for some action." She rolled her eyes, standing up. He watched as she sway her hips, walking in her red high heels to where the audio player of the room is. "The usual, isn't it?" She didn't wait for his answer as she played a sultry song with piano and keyboards in the background. He leaned on the couch, putting down the glass of beer to fully focus on her.

The girl went up to the table, her heels clicking across the hard wood while slowly turning around the pole of said table. Her eyes stared at him, those black orbs pulling him in. Sensually, she swayed her hips downward. Her fingers majestically grasping the pole. He was enticed. Her seductive gaze. Her haughty expression. It made his pants tighter.

Noticing this, she raised an eyebrow then parted her legs in front of him while sitting on the edge of the table. She stretched one leg, her heel gliding to his thigh to his crotch. Yuta gasped. “Do you like this, senpai?” Her voice was low, laced in sex. She played with the bulging in his pants using her foot as he closed his eyes in pleasure.

The music stopped that made her chuckle. "It’s three am, I'm done.” He’s close. Too close. “Do you need anything else?" He glared at her. She's really something. “Next time, come earlier.” She said with a smirk then showed her palm. Yuta was chuckling as he opened his wallet to pull some cash as a tip for her but she took some more from his wallet that made him shake his head. “I’ll wait for you, senpai.” She winked before standing up and walking out of the door.

Yuta shook his head, chuckling to himself. She’s one of a kind.

"Where have you been?" Doyoung asked as soon as he entered the door to their hideout. "Taeyong hyung is looking for you."

Yuta dropped his keys on the table, opening the suitcase full of armed weapons. He took one gun, reloading some bullets. "Where?"

"27th street," Doyoung said while looking at his computer, "12th building." The older smirked, cocking the gun he's holding. "Are you going to bring just that?" Yuta pointed his gun to the dummy on the side, pulling the trigger that the bullet shot through the middle of the dummy's forehead.

Things were pretty bad in the 12th building. But he's not a hired gunman if he ran away. It was just two big men, why is Taeyong so scared of them? Without even a sweat, he shot both guys on the head. "Where were you?" The leader asked, getting the suitcase full of money then another suitcase with the drugs in it. "Are you with that girl again? I swear Yuta, one day I will hunt that girl down…"

He pointed the gun on Taeyong's head, "Do that TY, and I swear the next bullet I'll shoot will be in your brain."

"So you're already crazy for this girl?" He teased but Yuta just glared at him. "Call Jaehyun, ask him to clean this up." The gunman hissed. He hated this.

The next time came earlier than expected. There wasn’t much to do in the organization anyways so he watched her in her stuff, being other men’s eye candy. The thought that these sleazy men were putting their hands on her made his blood boil that he’s suddenly annoyed now. Should he kill someone today? He's been in a sour mood lately.

“You’re early.” The girl teased as she entered the door in her red ensemble and high heels. Her lips were flaming red that made him hiss, no action. “You look unwell.”

She swayed her hair as she opened the audio player for another instrumental music. “I’m not in a good mood today.” She turned to him, her tongue swiping along her bottom lip.

“I can change that.” She smirked then knelt on the couch that she’s sitting on his lap. “Can you pay extra today?” Yuta nodded and she smiled. “Remove my lipstick,” she ordered. He looked at her in confusion, why wear that if she wanted it removed? “Kiss me.”

He smirked. “That’s against the club rules.”

“I make my own rules.” Her voice is confident. She wanted this. “Kiss me, senpai.” He didn’t need to be told twice as he leaned in to place his lips on her. She rolled her eyes when he broke the kiss, “You kiss like a dad saying goodnight to his daughter.” She leaned in to suck his bottom lip, making Yuta gasp. Her lips were so soft, her tongue slithering inside him tasting like mint, lime, and alcohol. When she break away from the kiss, she tapped his cheek. “That is how you kiss.”

She really does know how to turn around someone’s mood. But had she done this with other guys? It’s against the rules to touch a dancer inappropriately. The reason why, even if he wanted to touch her, his hands remain on his side. Naturally, it’s also against the rules to kiss the dancer, moreover sex. And she’s willing to break those rules for some cash. Is she in dire need of money?

“I still have my lipstick,” she said while swiping her thumb against her bottom lip, a faint red stain can still be seen. “This is trouble.” He looked curiously at her. But her, wearing lipstick is so hot. “I can’t mark you.” Her voice was low, seductive.

“Why not?”

Her lips were automatically placing small kisses on his jaw. “Your wife will see.” Yuta laughed, funny of her to think that he has a wife. "You don't? A girlfriend then?" He shook his head.

She looked surprised and he chuckled. "Why would I be here if I have a girlfriend?"

She raised an eyebrow at that. "You'll be surprised at how many guys here have girlfriends and wives." She sat properly to face him. "So have you danced before?" Yuta gave her a curious look. Danced? "Don't tell me you're a virgin, senpai."

Is that what it meant? He smirked, shaking his head. "Have you danced before?"

She beamed at that. "That's my job." She leaned closer, her lips on his neck. She sucked on his skin, letting her tongue lick the spot before kissing it. "Maybe you just need to find the correct music to dance along." She did the same to the other side of his neck, him groaning at the warmth of her mouth.

The girl had to smile at her masterpiece, giggling at the purple marks she did to him. "It's three am. Your time is up." Her fingers trailed from his neck down to his clothed chest then to the tent of his pants, taking time in playing with his growing bulge. "You have to go back before those marks disappear, senpai."

But his focus was on her middle finger rubbing the tip of his clothed member. He muttered a breathy curse that made her smile. Her fingers moved up to his torso that made him open his eyes. "I'll see you soon, senpai." She sucked on his bottom lip while standing up. The lack of contact made him sigh, breathing heavily as she walked out the door.

He wanted her, so bad.

The guys were staring at his neck when Yuta entered their safehouse, grinning like wolves to themselves. "What?" He asked, pissed off, then sat on the vacant spot on the chair next to Jaehyun.

Taeyong just shook his head before handing out his phone to Johnny and Doyoung. "Get ready for our next transaction two days from now." It was passed to both Jaehyun and Yuta that made the latter surprised.

"Club Fancy?" He asked which made Taeyong nod.

Why there? Of all the clubs in town. Why does it have to be that club? "We need you there Yuta if something happens," Johnny ordered. And he wished nothing happened. He doesn't want anything bad to happen. Especially to her.

The lights were flickering as different women grace the stage with their seductive moves. But none of them fascinate Yuta. Weirdly, there are five of them in one area, drinking slowly and cautious of the surrounding. Someone here is their enemy tonight.

When the speakers boomed a sensual song and a silhouette of the girl on the platform can be seen, Yuta sighed. “They won’t come. Let’s go.” But the four just stare at him then at the girl who was shining under the spotlight. The Japanese man hissed as he sat down, why would she wear that set tonight? All black leather, with a garter belt and pantyhose, black stilettos showing off her confidence. She's out here to take everyone's attention.

“That’s your girl?” Johnny asked and he glared at him.

“Let’s have a little show,” Taeyong exclaimed and Jaehyun chuckled.

Yuta was pissed off at this point. He’s sure they’re just teasing him. Is the transaction in this club even real? Instead of enjoying himself through her little striptease, he was more than worried. He doesn’t trust these guys. What if they do something to her?

Her eyes were glancing around, illuminated by the stage lights, as if looking for someone. Her gaze kept on looking at the area where he usually sits alone. A warm feeling crept up his body. Is she looking for him? Surprisingly, his eyes met hers and she smirked before twirling around the pole to give attention to other men worshipping her on her feet. She is.

Once the set was finished, he told them to leave already but it was Johnny who teased that he just wanted a private time with ‘his girl’. That sounded nice. But she’s not his.

She passed by their table with other girls and her manager but she stopped in front of them. "Senpai," she greeted that made the other guys snicker. "You're back early," Yuta smirked at her. "And you brought friends." Her eyes traveled on each of his colleagues' faces as if memorizing it.

"It's an official business."

"Here?" She asked then raised an eyebrow at him. "And I thought I could spend some alone time with you." She said loud enough for the other guys to hear. They only smiled knowingly at that.

Does she really have to do it today? But two can play this game. "You want to spend some alone time with me?"

"Of course, you're my favorite." Damn it, she's so good. He smirked at that. Her favorite. "Finish your business. I'll see you at six am later." She flipped her hair before following the group of girls to the other table. Six am? The club is already closed at that time.

Fuck, he thought. "We need to finish early."

It's two hours past the assigned time when the five decided to leave the club. Yuta's eyes wandered to her before leaving the club, another male's hand on her thigh that pissed him off.

Taeyong stopped on his tracks when ten other guys, all clad in black, blocked their way. Yet, even if three of them are skilled in guns it's still no match to ten amateur shooters. Yuta was once again pissed off that he suffered a gunshot wound on his shoulder. Totally a first.

He was lucky that police sirens can be heard that made everybody scram out of the place. Even if he wanted to come back inside, to make sure she's safe and to see her, he can't. Not when Johnny is already dragging him to the car while muttering how stupid it is that he got hurt.

It annoyed him. Did he really think that he wanted this? What annoyed him the most is that he can't see her. Will she be waiting for him? Should he just go to the club and come clean to her? Tell her he's shot and maybe he can bring her to his place. But damn, with his injury he can't do anything with her. Why doesn't he even know anything about her? Name. Number. None.

As much as it annoyed him, he waited until the bandages are gone and the wound is completely healed. Until he knew that he can hold her in his arms. He pondered whether to watch her perform, ask for a private lap dance once again, or just wait for her. Yet in the end, he wanted her alone so he waited until six am for her. Unsure if she’s here today.

What should he tell her? Sorry that she had to wait. Did she wait? Tell her that he’s been shot. But she will surely ask what he does for a living, what happened. Is he ready to tell her everything? That he’s an evil man, a greedy man who kills people just to spend some time with her.

There are two things that can happen when she finds out the truth. First, she’ll avoid him like the plague. He’s a dangerous man, he’ll understand. Second, she’ll stay and enter his world. And that scared him more.

But when she went out of the club, he stopped then gaped at her. She looked different in the natural light, with less make-up and more clothes. If possible, she’s prettier. A contrast to the fox she is inside the club, an angel. In no time, he was out of his car that surprised her. She looked surprised. “Long time no see.”

“Sorry.” The only thing he can mutter right now. “Things happened.”

“What things?”

He can’t. If she finds out about it, she’ll be in trouble. He can’t risk that. “Just things.” He mumbled. She raised an eyebrow at him, arms crossed on her chest. “Do you need a ride home?”

A smirk appeared on her lips. “I think I want to ride something else.” Fuck, he really can’t escape her.

Yuta wasn’t sure why of all the places, he brought her to his apartment. The girl marveled at how elegant everything looked, plopping herself on his couch. Yuta went to the kitchen to bring out two glasses and wine that made her giggle. Early morning and wine. “This is one amazing crib,” she exclaimed, eyes not leaving the interior of the house. “You’re a really wealthy man.” He shook his head. He’s not. “So what do you do for a living?” She asked casually, pouring wine on both glasses.

“Things.” He took the glass of wine, drinking it without removing his eyes on her. He sat on the chair opposite her, the wooden coffee table separating them both.

She smirked. "Will you tell me in exchange for something?" She asked in that haughty voice of her which made him nervous. Why is she so interested in the things he does? She arched her hips, pulling down her panty from under her skirt. He watched as she removed one leg then raised her other leg that has the fabric of her underwear, hanging on her foot. "So what do you do for a living, senpai?”

Yuta laughed before taking her underwear then holding her foot. He kissed her calf, licking the skin where his lips were earlier. “I steal jewelry..” His kisses went up to her leg that he’s now kneeling in front of her. “I rob banks.” By now, his lips and tongue were on her thigh. “I deal with drugs.”

He sucked on the skin near her throbbing core, his head under her pleated skirt. “I kill people.” A gasp can be heard but he wasn’t sure if it was because his tongue entered her or his confession. She tastes so good that it’s addicting. Her moans and her scent, indulging his senses. He held both her legs to wrap them around his head, pushing him further inside her. Her hands thread on his hair, tugging it and he smirked as he felt her clenching on him.

He removed his tongue inside her then flicked her clit that earned a moan from her. She looked so erotic: hips arched, lips agape and, eyes closed. He wanted her real bad. He sucked on her clit, pushing a finger inside her to stimulate the spot that made her scream in no time. Her moans of pleasure were so stimulating that he pushed her to her limit.

She shook in orgasm but he kept his finger inside her, even inserting another one. He sat on the table while watching her ride his fingers. “Senpai,” she said in a breathy moan. “Are you going to kill me?” Another finger was inserted and she grabbed his arm, the wounded arm from before. Yuta smiled, he’s relieved that he waited or else this will be trouble. Her nails dig on his flesh, turning him on. "Senpai," she called as her body squirmed for her second orgasm.

Her breathing was ragged, heavy pants against his shoulder. “You’re really going to kill me.”

Yuta laughed, a sound vibrating against the walls of the house. “I can’t do that to you.” The girl tapped the space on the couch next to her and Yuta obeyed, sitting next to her. She sat on his lap, her wet core rubbing against his thigh. “You really want to ride something else?”

She grinned. “I feel safe in your lap.” That startled him. He’s not a safe man. There’s blood in his hands, a lot of people he killed. Her fingers grazed the scar on his arm. “Were you shot? That’s why it took a long time for you to come back to the club?”

“Were you waiting?”

“I wish you wouldn’t do something like this again.” Her lips hovering against his, “If I give you something, can you stop meeting with them?”

Yuta smirked. She slowly removed her shirt, his hands traveling on her back and stopping to where her brassiere is. He marveled at how soft her skin is, that she is his for today. His mouth found her naked breasts, his hands on the curve of her waist. He didn't know how he managed to get her inside his room without breaking their steamy kiss but he did. A chuckle escaped his lips when she pushed him to bed, shimmying out of her skirt that she's naked now. She found her place on his lap once again, hands trailing under his shirt.

He loved how dominant she looked while slowly removing his shirt, her fingers tracing the tattoo he had. "So hot." She whispered, licking his earlobe then heading south to trace the inks on his skin with her tongue. But she's hotter in this position that he can't help but jerk his hip up to grind on her. She moaned before licking the lines visible on his abdomen as her hands started unbuckling his belt.

His remaining clothing was quickly discarded, his cherry cock springing hard for her. He watched as she rubbed her wet pussy lips against his length as if teasing him, staring in her haughty expression. Yuta groaned when she slowly sat on him, entering her core with ease. She's so wet and so tight. His self-control thinning out to not fuck her mercilessly on the mattress. She started riding him, controlling their thrusts. One hand was holding Yuta's chest for support, the other on the headboard as her body bounced above his. The man licked his lips. Her breasts jiggling at the motion, her mouth agape as soft whimpers can be heard, her eyes closed tight while her head rolled back. Fuck, she is so hot.

He sat up, holding her waist to help her ride his cock while his mouth started to attack her mounds causing her to move forward. His cock hit a different angle that made her moans louder. He could feel her clenching on him that made him smirk. Already? Yuta started jerking his hip up, meeting her thrusts halfway that made her scream. His control is now gone. He just wanted her to orgasm, to make her shake in his arms.

Her body was closer to his, nails digging on his shoulder that made him groan against her ear. She came with a shudder but he didn't stop thrusting inside her tight core. He could feel himself getting thicker by the second and with another thrust, came inside her. His lips were on her, whispering apologies for cumming inside her but she just shook her head, smiling at him.

"Shouldn't I know your name by now?" She whispered, breathing heavily beside him. Her fingers started trailing the tattoo marks in his skin. "I can't call you senpai forever, you know?"

Yuta chuckled at that. "If you find out my name, you wouldn't be able to escape me."

"What if I don't want to escape?"

The guy smirked at her haughtiness. "Yuta," he whispered, lips hovering against her. "And I want you to shout that name when you cum."

The girl giggled when he hovered above her in bed, his mouth started sucking supple marks on her skin. Her fingers thread on his hair, tugging on the strands as she kept on moaning his name over and over. It turned him on, knowing that it was her who's giving her this much. "Yuta." she whispered, “Please, Yuta."

He started kissing her breasts then licking up to her neck. He held both her legs wrapping them on his waist before thrusting into her so deep that she screamed while fisting the bedsheets. "Now move, Yuta." He kept on slamming into her as she scratched his arm in pleasure, repeatedly whispering his name in every thrust. "Oh my God. Yuta!" She shouted while he kept hitting her pleasure spot, pushing his cock into her so deep that she started shaking in orgasm while calling for him.

He kept giving her multiple orgasms in exchange for her calling his name, only his name as if chanting a magic spell. Yuta kept filling her up, kissing every skin in her body. He liked this feeling. That she's his. That they're the only ones who matter in the world. And he wished every day could be like this. He needed to stop working with them, put his life into order and get her out of the club. They can start a new life together and every day will be exactly like this.

“Will you stop dancing in the club if I promise to stop doing this?” Her gaze on him was warm, looking surprised that he even said those words to her. “Let’s run away. Just you and me.”

A heavy breath escaped her lips. "I can't." She nuzzled her head on his chest. "I still have to finish something."

"Then I'll wait for you."

He let her do what she wanted. He let her go her way, whatever she wanted, that's her. She knew where she's attracted. To the stage, with everyone's eyes on her. And Yuta had no problems with that. He'll wait for her, he promised that.

"Why are you here?" She asked, smiling like a teenage school girl then running to him in her heels. "Did you miss me, Yuta?" she grinned, sitting on his lap. His hands were automatically on her waist, like previous nights when she did the same action.

He thought he was okay with her like this. Clearly, he's not.

His tongue darted out to lick a spot on her neck. "You have a hickey," he claimed while touching the spot he just licked, a faint purple bruise can be seen.

She gulped hard. "The client paid extra so I thought it's alright."

"Do you think it's alright?" She shook her head but he gripped her hair, pulling it. "You wanted to be a slut?" A glint appeared in her eyes and she nodded that surprised him. "Do you know what sluts do?"

She gasped. "That's against club rules."

"I'll pay extra since you love money so much." She gulped when he started unbuckling his belt, revealing his semi-hard cock. "Now, suck, my slut." She was kneeling in front of him. The warmth of her mouth engulfing him, the softness of her tongue in contrast with his hardness. Her hand gripped on the base of his cock as the other played with his balls. "Fuck, that's so good." He growled, tugging on her hair.

She started using her tongue to lap him up from the shaft and tasting the precum seeping on his tip. Her hands started jerking his cock then licked the underside of his balls that made his eyes widened. Fuck, that is different. Where the hell did she learn all these techniques? A smirk appeared on her face when she returned to sucking his cock in such force that made him groan. He's so close.

The girl started deep-throating him, pulling back then bobbing her head once again. Yuta groaned at the sensation when she bobbed her head faster, eager to get him to his release. "God." Yuta groaned, saliva dripping on his balls. "You're so good." His hand tightened on her hair as she deepthroats him once again, eyes rolling back as he felt his release that made his body tremble.

She slurped his cum, even lapping up the tip of his cock to clean him up. He saw her gulp, swallowing the heavy load in her throat then placed a soft kiss on his cock. His thumb wiped her mouth and she sucked on the finger that made him smile. "That was the best blowjob ever."

The girl licked her lips then smirked. "And it will cost you." Yuta took out his wallet but she slapped his hand, sitting on his lap once again. "You're gonna have to fill me up later." Is it a cum fetish? Why is she like this?

Yuta nodded then leaned in to kiss her, tongue exploring her wet cavern. His phone rang that halted their make-out. What the hell? Why now? She stared at him and he just looked at his phone for a while, a message from Taeyong.

He groaned which was immediately drowned by her lips, her hand taking his phone away. "What's your plan?" She whispered but he only stared at her when another message came. Taeyong gave the name of a building, telling him to come immediately. "Stay."

"This is the last time." He kissed her once again. "I'll come back real quick." She called his name in a desperate attempt to stop him. "I promise, this is the last time."

"Yuta, I have to tell you something."

"Later." He kissed her again then springing into his feet, leaving her on the couch. "Wait for me." And he was out of the door in no time, phone on his ear.

Another dealing and he didn't know exactly why the five of them were needed this time. When police sirens were heard, he already knew why. They're cornered. A total first. Who the fuck caused this? And why now?

With Doyoung's quick thinking, he and Yuta had an escape on one of the backdoors. But the younger was easily caught by one of the armed men, even overhearing that they were caught because of Doyoung's phone. Yuta escaped outside, watching as the four were held by bulky policemen. This is bad. He even left his gun inside because of the commotion.

"Stop right there.” He heard someone say. He was about to turn to know who it was when the voice continued, “Hands up.” followed by a clicking sound of a gun and cold metal on his nape. He followed the order, raising his hand above his head. A hand went on his waist as if looking for something that made him smirk, obviously a woman’s hand.

“Go south. I might have been hiding something.” The metal behind him was pressed on the back of his head that made him chuckle. “I can give you a better night, you know?”

“I know.” That voice. “Now move, Yuta.” Her.

He was pushed on a wall, a gun still pointed at the back of his head. When he felt it gone, his hands were bound behind him as the cold metal can be felt on his wrists. Handcuffs. “Who are you exactly?” He wasn’t surprised when he turned to see who it was. Of course, it’s her. His star. "Is this your plan?" She remained expressionless, one hand getting out her phone while the other was on his chest to stop him from going somewhere. "All of this, pretending to be a stripper and fucking me, just to trap us? Am I an easy prey for you?"

There was surprise in her features as she looked at him. "No, Yuta. You're not." She returned her phone back to her pocket. "You weren't our target at first but you made connections with the syndicate we're after and now, the five of you are under the radar." She explained. "I did warn you to stop meeting up with them." He rolled his eyes at that. "We should be at your place right now if you just did your promise."

Now that he's staring, he can’t deny that she looks so good in her ponytail and black ensemble. Red lips ruining his focus as his mind whirled on those soft plump lips marking his skin. Her soft skin on his fingertips. Her warmth felt through his body. She looks different when she's serious, more charming. Hotter, even. “I genuinely like you.”

She stepped closer and his heart skipped a beat at her scent. She’s still addicting. “So do I, Yuta.”

"Then you should let me go."

She shook her head. "They already saw you." Her fingers trailed from his shoulder to his chest, making him smirk. “Don’t worry. Please bear with this for a while, I’ll make sure that they will treat you well.” He raised an eyebrow at that, looking skeptical at her words. Can he still trust her? But she leaned closer, her lips sucking on a spot on his neck that made him groan. “You will miss me while in prison." She touched the hickey she just made. "So I guess I’ll have to see you before these marks disappear from your neck.”

"You can do that?"

"Be a good boy and I'll just might do that." He can see people walking to where they are. "I might even help you get out of prison."

"Why are you helping me?" He asked but the girl smirked at him, "You're my music, senpai."

“Miss Y/N.” A policeman greeted her with a salute. Yuta realized that this was the first time he heard her name. She nodded before two guys held his arm, dragging him away from her. “Chief has been looking for drug organizations for so long. It only needs her so they can get more information for other organizations.” One guy said to the other.

“Chief was right to name her the star of the police force.” The other claimed.

Yuta smiled. His gaze fell to her, watching as she was standing in front of someone in another police uniform. She turned to him and their eyes met that instant. Yuta smirked when she winked at him. Truly, one of a kind.

His star. His music.

He hoped he could dance with her again.

#neosmutsongs #neosmutcollective #yuta smut #yuta nakamoto smut #nakamoto yuta smut #nct 127 yuta smut #nct yuta smut #nct 127 yuta nakamoto smut #nct 127 nakamoto yuta smut #nct yuta nakamoto smut #nct nakamoto yuta smut

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jungshookz · 4 years

Note

miss cee pd i have a request!!!! how about e2l tae x y/n but they're in law school and they're always arguing and debating inside and outside of the classroom and tae being a little shit is like "you wanna kiss me so bad" and they both don't realise that there's mistletoe above them which jimin put because he was tired of watching them constantly argue and wanted to fiZzle the tension hehe and then they KITH,, i hope this isn't too long aha

➺ pairing; kim taehyung x reader

➺ genre; sfw!! enemies to lovers!! everyone’s in law school!! mostly y/n and taehyung bickering with each other and wanting to jump each other’s bones at the same time

➺ wordcount; 4.3k

➺ what to expect; “don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.”

»»————-　❄　————-««

“-now, the particular case study that was assigned to our group involves a civil action for medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter, which means that there are seven elements that we need to hit when we’re acting out our simulation next class,” you explain, flipping to the next page of your notebook with a flick of your wrist, “firstly, the client - jimin - must be interviewed so that we may determine the facts that surround the claim/prosecution. secondly, we need to draft witness statements - from hoseok and namjoon - and assess the legal efficacy of said statements. thirdly, we must assess the propriety of police interrogation from officer jungkook of the defend-”

you pause when a crumpled piece of paper lands by your left foot and you clear your throat quietly before stepping over it and continuing to pace back and forth at the front of the classroom

your eyes skim over your scribbled words as you try to relocate your place

…

ah!

here we are

“-ant, seokjin, through all transcripts along with the custody record. fourthly, we move on to assessing the reports that have been produced by the forensic experts-”

another balled-up piece of paper hits your foot and your head immediately snaps upwards from your book before you twist around to face the room

“would you cut that out, please?” you snap, already feeling your blood pressure starting to rise from a single glance at taehyung’s smug face

“what? i didn’t know how else to get your attention!” he hums, his arm dangling in the air with a floppy wrist, “my arm’s been up for the past three minutes, and you would’ve known that if you didn’t have your nose buried deep in your book.”

the reminder that you wouldn’t last a day in prison keeps you from lunging forward to wrap your hands around taehyung’s neck and you press your lips together to stop yourself from saying anything too crass

the last thing you need is for some professor to walk past the classroom while you’re cussing up a storm

your self-control has really been put to the test ever since you met taehyung

after all this time, you still don’t know what the guy’s deal is

he’s been a pain in your ass since day one

and for what??

for WHAT?!

at first you just thought that being a complete prick was just his weird version of being charismatic, but then you realised that he wasn’t being charming at all and he was really, truly, genuinely being a straight-up asshole

and, for the record, you’ve tried several times in the past to try to make things better but nothing’s worked

you said that he looked nice in his suit = he told you to stop looking at him like a piece of meat

you asked him how he did on the midterm exam = he told you that it was his right to keep that piece of information private and that you were being a snake by even asking about it

you said happy birthday to him = he said, and you quote, “yeah. it was until you got here.”

the point is, you’ve waved many white flags of surrender and extended many, many olive branches to no avail

at this point you’re pretty sure taehyung just gets off on being a jerk to you

and it’s not fair because it’s literally just you that he picks on constantly

at first you thought that maybe he was just threatened by your presence because you made it pretty clear from day one that you weren’t here to play around

powerful women are intimidating!

you totally get it.

…but then you overheard him offering rosé some studying tips and you even saw him help wendy carry her books for her and everyone knows that rosé and wendy are two of the smartest girls in the class, so why wasn’t he threatened by them?

...

the point is, he doesn’t treat anyone else in the class like this except for you and you can’t seem to figure out why!

what makes it even more frustrating is the fact that his stupid face is very nice to look at, so whenever he’s being mean to you, your dumb girl hormones drown out the sound of his rich, honey-like voice and place floating pink hearts around his head instead

“i’m so sorry i wasn’t paying attention to you, mr. kim.” you force out before gesturing to the notebook cradled in the crook of your arm, “see, all my notes are in here and i’m just trying to make sure that i don’t miss out on any details,” you point out, “and… i thought i said to save your questions for the end, did i not?”

“did you? i guess i wasn’t listening. sorry, sweetheart.” taehyung chirps, folding his arms and leaning forward on his desk, “anyway- don’t you think it’s a little unfair that you get to play the hotshot lawyer in this simulation?”

“everyone gets a turn to be the lawyer - last week, it was jungkook. this week, it’s me. everyone gets a shot to play the hotshot lawyer because our roles rotate.” you shake your head in disagreement, “how am i being unfair?”

“you assigned yourself, like, the coolest case study.” taehyung scoffs, leaning back against his seat and crossing his arms, “i mean… medical negligence and a criminal prosecution for gross negligence manslaughter?” his left brow arches before he turns his head slightly, “jungkook, what was your case study on again?”

“my client parked in a no-parking zone!” jungkook beams, nodding to himself, “i didn’t mind getting that case, though. it was actually pretty fu-”

“you hear that, y/n?” taehyung turns his head back to face you before gesturing behind him, “jungkook also thinks his case was boring as hell- his client parked in a no-parking zone and you get to deal with corrupt doctors and accidentally-but-not-really-accidentally-run-over-by-a-car pedestrians.”

your jaw clenches in frustration and you resist the urge to take a heel off and bash taehyung’s skull in with it

being forced to wear nice shoes to school would be so much better if you were allowed to commit cold-blooded murder with them

“well, that was last week’s case, so even if jungkook thought it was boring…” you pause, turning to set your notebook down on the front desk before twisting back around, “he’s already had his turn. and now it’s my turn!”

“you could’ve given me this case.”

“oh, please.” you snort, rolling your eyes before leaning against the front desk, “you wouldn’t have been able to handle a case this big. this has my name written all over it.”

taehyung scoffs, rolling his eyes, “the only reason why it has your name written all over it was because you grabbed it with your grubby little raccoon hands before anyone else had the chance to-”

“i-!” you pinch the bridge of your nose before letting out a laugh of disbelief, “oh my god, i refuse to have this conversation with you again, taehyung- for the last time, it was a first-come-first-serve situation, and you probably could’ve gotten this case if you weren’t so busy watching netflix in class-”

“you guys-” namjoon clears his throat, his shoulders drooping when the two of you ignore him, “…never mind.”

this always happens

you guys somehow always find something to argue about no matter what

in fact, namjoon’s convinced that you guys could sit in complete and utter silence and still find something to fight over

“how long do you think the argument will last this time?” yoongi leans over, “i bet you ten bucks it’ll last longer than last week’s fight.”

“no way! last week’s fight was half an hour long-” hoseok chimes in, “…they can’t possibly argue for longer than thirty minutes… can they?”

“remember that time they fought over a sandwich?” jungkook sighs, leaning his cheek against his fist, “that was a forty minute argument.”

“they fought over a sandwich?” jimin frowns, turning to glance towards the front, “what was there to even argue about??”

“y/n said that the spread was dijon mustard and taehyung said it was horseradish mustard,” seokjin purses his lips, “…i actually ordered the same sandwich and i’m pretty sure it was just regular ol’ yellow mustard… but i’m too afraid to tell either of them they’re wrong about it.”

“oh my god-” jimin scoffs, “forty minutes arguing about mustard?? really??”

“yep! i even recorded the whole thing just because it’s actually pretty interesting listening to two people scream about mustard so passionately for so long,” jungkook pulls his phone out of his back pocket, the rest of the boys scooting in closer to his desk, “by the time we finish watching the video, they’ll… probably be done arguing with each other. maybe.”

“-ow thick is your skull, taehyung? were you dropped on your head as a baby??” you scowl, “if i was a teacher’s pet like you say i am, then i would’ve sweet-talked my way out of being in a group with you. also, you know what? i wasn’t going to bring this up, but the only reason why we’re here during christmas break is because it was your idea to practice during the holidays-”

“yeah! you get to practice your big show in a huge, empty classroom without getting nervous about someone overhearing you practice speaking in your dumb, professional lawyer voice-” taehyung gestures around at the spacious atmosphere, “if this is your way of being thankful to me, you have an awfully funny way of showing it-”

“do you know what i could be doing right now if i wasn’t here?” you scowl, placing your hands on your hips as you glare at taehyung

“hm, let me think…” he hums, leaning back against his chair before kicking his legs up onto his desk, “bending over and trying desperately to pull the fat stick out of your ass?”

jimin sits up a little straighter as he peers over the top of namjoon and seokjin’s heads to check and see if you and taehyung are done arguing yet

your ears are turning red and there’s an animalistic, frenzied look behind your eyes, so... nope. definitely not done yet.

after all this time, he still doesn’t know why you guys fight the way that you do

it’s like you enjoy pushing each other’s buttons and irritating each other until one of you inevitably snaps (you’re usually the first one to fall off the rocker because taehyung is alarmingly good at being irritating)

“ooh, hold on-” jungkook grins, pointing to the screen before whacking jimin’s arm in rapid smacks, “my favourite part is coming up, you have to pay attention-”

jimin looks away from you two and back down at the screen

“-the low acidity liquid gives dijon mustard that intensified heat and the classic pungent flavour which is very obvious in this sandwich!” you exclaim, peeling the top slice of bread off to reveal the inside, “and look at that colour! that is literally dijon mustard-”

“okay, fine! it’s dijon mustard.” taehyung responds while inspecting his nail beds

“no, you’re not listening to- wait… did you just agree with me?”

“yeah!” he sighs, crossing his arms, “the mustard used in your sandwich is dijon mustard. and also, the sky is green-”

“oh my god, you piece of-!”

jimin looks up again when he hears your voice rise a couple of octaves

this is the part of the argument when your ‘i’m-fine-don’t-touch-me-I’M-FINE’ voice comes out

“wow! you are-” you laugh, shaking your head as you lean down and place your hands flat on the surface of taehyung’s desk “you really are something else, kim taehyung. i-!”

you let out a yelp of surprise when taehyung suddenly reaches over and yanks at a section of your hair

“ow!” you whack his hand away before flicking your hair over your shoulder, “wha- what the hell was that for?!”

taehyung doesn’t flinch at your aggressive tone and he looks up at you, completely unfazed, before giving a half-hearted shrug

“it was hanging, like, right in front of me. i couldn’t not pull on it.”

“well, your tie is right there but you don’t see me reaching over and pulling on it to strangle you because it’s right in front of me-”

“oh, threatening to choke me, are we?” taehyung hums, “i’m suddenly feeling very unsafe. should i get one of the guys to call campus security for my protection, miss y/n?”

“do you guys think we should break things off?” seokjin glances over his shoulder at the escalating scene, “ideally, i’d like for this to not turn into a how to get away with murder scenario…”

jimin narrows his eyes slightly as the gears click-click-click away in his head, leaning back against his seat and reaching up to tap at his chin

there’s something about this situation that’s reminding him of something but he can’t quite put his finger on it

“oh my god, you are such a child-!”

jimin’s eyes suddenly widen in realization, a lightbulb appearing at the top of his head

does taehyung like y/n?

...

oh, wow

taehyung has a full-blown crush on you!

how could he not have noticed this before?!

taehyung is literally the bratty little boy pulling on your pigtails because he doesn’t know how else to get your attention on this playground!

a comment from a former conversation with you briefly flits through jimin’s mind as he continues staring at the two of you in awe

he doesn’t remember how exactly you guys started talking about it, but he does remember you saying these words to him:

“i mean… yeah. of course i think taehyung’s attractive. maybe in another universe where he’s not bullying me 24/7, i would be more open to admitting to myself that i might have a slight crush- i-i mean, i- what did we say we were going to get for lunch today?? sandwiches?? we should get sandwiches, the place is right here-”

how could he have forgotten you said that to him?!

it’s like he finally has his hands on the missing puzzle piece... and it’s up to him to finish this puzzle!

“i have a plan.” jimin whispers to himself before reaching over to grab onto jungkook’s wrist, “i know what i have to do!”

“huh?” jungkook frowns in confusion, pausing the video before looking over at him, “what are you talking about?”

“just-” jimin gets up from his seat quickly, the chair screeching against the floor, “just make sure they don’t stop arguing with each other while i’m gone because i might take a while to find what i need-”

“you know, i don’t think that’s going to be an issue,” yoongi snorts, everyone looking towards the front to see you glaring at taehyung like you want to rip his heart out of his chest and eat it raw, “check out that throbbing vein in y/n’s forehead.”

“forget about her forehead vein-” jungkook shakes his head, “has no one else noticed how tightly taehyung clenches his asscheeks whenever he’s pissed? those trousers do not hide anything.”

everyone’s eyes immediately gravitate down to taehyung’s ass, hoseok and seokjin bursting into giggles at the sight

“what the fuck is your problem?!” you scream, taehyung’s eyes widening at your sudden outburst, “you’ve treated me like shit from day one and i’ve literally done nothing wrong!”

“okay! i think we should all just take a step back and take a deep breath…” namjoon gets up from his seat slowly, “it’s getting a little intense-“

“nothing wrong?! oh yeah, because you’re little miss perfect-” taehyung spits out, “don’t play dumb, you know exactly what you did!”

“what did i-!” you throw your hands up into the air, “please, i am begging you to tell me what the horrible thing is that i did that made you decide i was public enemy number one-”

“i heard you talking shit about me at the very beginning of the semester when you didn’t even know me! we’d never met and you didn’t even bother trying to get to know me before you formed your own opinion of me based on the way i looked-” taehyung snaps, “you said that i looked like an entitled, obnoxious frat-boy who didn’t even know left from right and only made it to law school because his daddy gave the school a generous donation- so if we’re really going to talk about who the real asshole is in this room, i would suggest re-evaluating-”

you feel the blood drain from your face at the reminder of what you said about taehyung on the first day of class

...oh.

...

okay, yeah, you... might have said that stuff, but it was only because the other people you were sitting with at the time said stuff like that and... and you were so desperate to find a group of cool law-school friends that you were totally willing to say and do anything they wanted you to do or say!

it obviously didn’t work because you don’t sit with them anymore, so...

yeah, it was a bad move to talk shit about taehyung like that without even having spoken one word to him, but if this proves anything... it’s that peer pressure is dangerous!

“well, why didn’t you just-” you stammer, feeling your face starting to heat up from embarrassment, “why didn’t you just tell me about this earlier? we could’ve nipped it right in the bud-”

“i much prefer the bullying because the feeling i get after seeing the defeat in your eyes is equivalent to a full-body orgasm-”

“oh my god, you sick freak-”

“uh, you guys-” namjoon cuts in again, holding his finger up, “can i just s-”

“okay, fine!” you raise your hands in surrender, “i’m sorry, alright? i’m really sorry. what i said about you was shitty, but i don’t see how bullying me for months on end was a good solution-”

“can you two shut u-”

“oh, i never said it was a good solution, y/n,” taehyung purses his lips, “like i said - i just did it because it was fun-”

“guys, if i could just get one word in-”

“do you even realize how psychotic you sound right no-”

“HEY!” namjoon suddenly bellows, you and taehyung jumping and clamming up immediately in alarm

“what??” the two of you ask at the same time, pausing to glare at each other for a split second before looking back over at namjoon

“i…” he trails off, his eyes flickering upwards, “…know this is kind of awkward timing, but…”

you and taehyung look up simultaneously, your eyes widening to see a dinky little shrub of... mistletoe? taped at the end of a meter stick

oh no

oh hell no

“kiss first, and then you can apologise for what was obviously a huge misunderstanding and you can apologise for being a huge prick later - pucker up, lovebirds!” jimin chirps, waving the stick a little and watching your eyes go side to side like a ping-pong ball, “don’t be shy! also, i know the mistletoe looks like a clump of grass that i tied a red ribbon around- just don’t look too closely at it-”

“ha!” you let out a laugh before shaking your head quickly, “no way! i don’t know what you people think is going on here, but it’s certainly not that- you can’t just dangle a plant over my head and force me to kiss him-”

“what’s that supposed to mean?” taehyung scoffs in offence, tilting his head upwards slightly, “anyone would be honoured to be under the mistletoe with me!”

“yeah. anyone out of their mind.”

“aw, c’mon, you guys…” hoseok pushes his bottom lip out in a pout before clasping his hands together, “kiss and make up! we all know that’s how it works. let the christmas spirit take over your bodies and fuel your weird hate-love for each othe-”

“the sooner you two kiss and make out, the sooner i can get the hell out of here,” yoongi interrupts, snapping his fingers, “c’mon! plant a fat one on each other!”

“the only reason why y/n’s getting whiney about it because she knows she’ll fall in love with me the moment she kisses me.” taehyung suddenly speaks up and you immediately look back down at him with a glare

fall in love????

with him????

it’s not going to take a single kiss to fall in love with taehyung - it’s going to take intensive exposure therapy to fall in love with him!

“don’t flatter yourself. i would rather throw myself into oncoming traffic than kiss you, kim taehyung.” you growl, smacking your hands down on taehyung’s desk so violently that it rattles beneath you

“now, now. there’s no need to lie…” taehyung chuckles lightly as he pushes his seat back slightly and rises to his feet

“i’m not lying! i don’t want to kiss you!”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do TOO!”

“do NOT!”

“you know, you just sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that you don’t want to kiss me-”

“you’re the one who keeps pushing it-” you jab a finger into his chest, “maybe you’re the one who wants to kiss me!”

“you think i wanna kiss you?!” taehyung laughs, flicking your hand away from him, “now look who the delusional one is!”

“i thought this was supposed to fix the arguing?” seokjin mutters under his breath, jungkook offering him a shrug while keeping his eyes glued on you and taehyung

he was running out of things to watch on netflix and this makes far better entertainment

the only thing that would make this better was if you and taehyung had at it in a grimy boxing ring half-naked

“i can’t be the only one thinking that all of this could be easily fixed if they just boned each other.” jungkook snorts, the other boys turning to look at him, “…what??”

“i wouldn’t kiss you even if you were the last man on earth.” you snarl, your voice wavering slightly

“you really expect me to believe that?” taehyung tilts his head, “don’t think i didn’t catch the way your eyes just flickered down to my lips, y/n...”

you feel your heart starting to pound in your chest when he places his hands flat on the desk as well, the tips of his fingers brushing over yours

at this proximity, the little voice in the back of your head can’t help but point out how pretty taehyung’s eyes are... and how nice he smells... and how soft his lips look...

...do you wanna kiss him?

oh, god

do you wanna kiss kim taehyung?!

no, you don’t

yes, you do

what??

WHAT??

“you wanna kiss me so bad, and you know it, y/l/n.” taehyung taunts, leaning forward just a little more

at this point, your faces are merely an inch away from each other’s and it wouldn’t take much effort to just lean in and… you know.

“i hate you.”

“if you hated me so much, then you wouldn’t be making such a big deal over silly little mistletoe now, would you?” taehyung smirks, pulling away before making his way around the desk so that he can get closer to you, “you like me but you’re too much of a wimp to admit it!”

“i like you?!” you gawk, “more like you like me!”

“okay-” jimin huffs, lowering the stick before taking a step back, “i really thought this was going to work, but my arms are getting tired, so if you two aren’t going to kiss, then i- oh-” his eyes widen in surprise when you and taehyung are suddenly lunging at each other not a second later, your hands cupping his cheeks and his hands gripping your waist as you kiss far more feverishly than he thought you two would

oh my

“see, what’d i say? sexual tension!” jungkook kisses his teeth, leaning back against his chair and crossing his arms, “all that pent-up energy from arguing has led to this beautiful moment-”

“you’re an- mm- you’re an awful kisser, by the way-” taehyung mutters against your mouth, lips turning up in a boyish grin when you retaliate by shoving at his chest

“so are you!” you pull away only for taehyung to pull you right back in to press his mouth against yours again, “’m hating ehvery minute of this-”

“ah… isn’t young love sweet?” hoseok coos, jumping in his seat when taehyung suddenly shoves you up against the front desk with a thud, “so passionate!”

“okay, we’re just going to-” namjoon gets up from his seat gesturing for the boys to get up as well, “we’re happy to see that the argument has been settled!”

he hurries everyone to the front door and turns to glance over his shoulder, “when you guys are done, just… let us know! we’re going to pop over to starbucks for some hot chocolate. so... text one of us. or call! or you could use snapchat- it’s up to you, really-!”

namjoon doesn’t get a chance to say anything else before yoongi’s yanking his arm and pulling him backwards, reaching over to slam the door shut

a moment of silence goes by in which everyone takes a second to process what exactly just happened

“take your shirt off-”

“you take yours off first!”

“i... can’t tell if my plan was a success or a failure.” jimin mutters to himself, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck

“hey, if it makes you feel any better, at least they aren’t arguing with each other anymore!” jungkook cheers, clapping his hands quietly, “it’s a christmas miracle!”

❄️christmas with cee 2020 masterlist 🎄

557 notes · View notes

oneofthosesimps · 3 years

Text

God knows I tried

pairing: levi x fem!reader I nsfw

word count: 7983

summary: reader comes to paradise with yelena and the others. although you are marleyan, you want to fight for the eldian. at the beginning you experience harsh rejection before levi develops feelings for you

warnings: SPOILER season 4, first time, angst, fluff, smut, harsh words

authors note: i got the idea from a request (although i interpreted it completely different and wrong, i'm sorry (still)). well, i want to elaborate and develop my writing skills a bit, which is why i'm trying out a bit at the moment. that's why i focused less on smut and more on conveying feelings. i hope you like it and once again, i'll write the story again with the theme of the actual request and more smut (it's on my list)

all credits to the artist of this pic:

Bev-Nap

-----

You feel out of place, even though you have fought so long to sit right here. Not only the icy stares of your opposite but also the tense posture of your comrades give you exactly that feeling. A silence overcomes you at the table, while you can hear the sound of metal and ammunition. You dare not lift your eyes and instead look at the cup in your hands. The tent is filled with the scent of black tea, which blends with the sound of chirping crickets to create a symphony of summer, if only it wasn't so cold. A heavy stone rests on your chest and a nervousness creeps through your body that you have rarely felt before. Your warrior heart is a wrinkled mess and you are surprised at yourself for the thoughts that are floating through your head right now. It has been a long time since you felt so small. Your gaze lifts slightly and your eyes fall on folded arms. You can see veins on his hands, winding along under his skin. They follow the contours of his muscles, which are hidden under his jacket. Wings emblazon one of his shoulders and right above his heart and you eye the beautiful symbol before your eyes travel even higher.

Frozen iron looks at you and a shiver runs down your spine. His half-closed eyes are partially covered by his black hair and yet hatred shines through them. You are paralysed for a moment before you pull away and look at the woman beside him instead. You hold your breath as she looks curiously down the barrel of the loaded pistol and your right fingers clutch the porcelain in your hand. If a shot were fired now, she would also lose her remaining sight.

A broad grin settles on her face, which is bathed in a warm orange by the lamp above you, reflecting through the lenses of her glasses, "Oh, I see. So you can shoot multiple times with it." She is wearing the same clothes as Levi and inwardly you wonder what the wing symbol is all about.

Your gaze wanders to the left and you look at the tall, blonde woman. Yelena's features are soft and you admire her for her courage and composure. If she is insecure, she has that feeling hidden deep within her and doesn't let it show through. Her eyes glance at the cup in her hand as she eyes the dark liquid, "Those are Marleyan soldiers' standard equipment." Hange's fascination does not abate and she turns the weapon from right to left.

Yelena's hand grips the handle of the cup before she takes a small sip and sets it down again, "Each Marleyan's army divisions consists of about 20,000 soldiers. There are 50 divisions in total, making around a million of them."

The brown-haired woman's face slips and you can see the surprise and shock in them. Slowly she lowers the firearm and places it on the table.

"In addition to that, they possess three fleets consisting of 21 battle ships. They've also seen incredible progress with new weapons including aerial military capabilities," Yelena continues, briefly fixing her gaze on the pistol before catching Hange's eye.

"...Aerial?" You can hear the tremor in her voice and light beads of sweat settle on her forehead. Small wrinkles form around her lips. A second later she yelps as Levi nudges her with his foot and leans towards her. His voice is low as he talks to her and you exchange brief glances with Onyankopon. His large dark eyes look at you as confused as you feel and your brow furrows. His eyes turn back to the two people opposite you and he clears his throat, "So in other words, mobile weapons that can go beyond seas and walls, and drop the enemy from the sky." His explanation seems to strike a chord with Hange and she jumps to her feet. Her chair scrapes across the floor before toppling backwards with a thud. She slams her palms down on the table and leans her upper body towards you, "They'll come from the sky?!"

Despite her joyful enthusiasm, this little phrase leaves a bitter note. Suddenly you realise again how terribly sad this situation is. Such things are normality for people on the mainland. Guns and flying ships are technologies that have been around for a long time. The whole world uses them, except for a small island in the middle of the sea. Hange has never seen such things in her life, nor have the rest of the people in this camp and within the walls. Although they are the same people, they live such different lives.

Your mouth goes dry and you take a big sip of your tea, almost burning your tongue. The feeling mixes with the pain in your chest and your heart tightens. So much has gone wrong, so much you now have to fix and undo. The weight on your shoulders seems to crush you as you continue to look to Hange, not letting on.

She leans forward even further and her face becomes thoughtful, "Marley has all that wonderful power, yet they haven't launched a proper attack on us for almost a year, why is that?"

Yelena's expression remains unchanged, "There are two main reasons." She takes her time with her words, thinking them over as she takes another sip of the dark tea. After setting the cup down she continues to speak, "The first reason is the Pure Titans that they unleashed on this island. Their existences make it hard for them to get here, even with the latest weapons. It was originally a policy meant to confine the Eldians inside the walls. However, it ended up protecting Eldian from attack."

For the first time you hear his deep voice. It sounds like dark strong honey and nestles around you. You feel as if the vibration is making the tent wall shake and goosebumps settle over you, "Seems like it. Quite ironic, I must say." He adds a snort to the end of that sentence and looks disdainful.

Yelena smiles dryly at him for a moment before lowering her gaze and breaking eye contact, "However, the day is about to break. The Titans should be active soon. Yet, we're still leisurely drinking tea here outside the wall. That means you have killed all the pure Titans on the island. Would that be correct?"

Levi's body tenses almost imperceptibly as his clothes cover much of it, but you see that his shoulders are getting even broader. The veins on his hand that you noticed earlier stand out more and you feel an electricity emanating from him. His face shows no movement and he keeps a straight face, "So what? Are you going to somehow inform Marley about it?"

This is the first time you would like to say something to convince him that you have come with good intentions and that he can trust you. But deep down you know for a reason that it will probably take the longest with him - if he will ever trust you at all.

Yelena stares at him and you can see a small smirk curl her lips, "No, It's wonderful."

Only by Levi's eyebrows can you tell he's slightly surprised as the furrow between them gets a little deeper and darker. His body tension doesn't change as he glares at you with dark eyes while Hange's right hand becomes a fist, "What's the second reason?" Her gaze wanders back and forth between the three of you.

"Marley is currently in a state of war with multiple countries," Yelena explains, "In other words, they got bigger thing to deal with. You guys have defeated Marley's trusted Warrior unit. You guys also took the Colossal Titan and the Female Titan, their key weapons. Marley is a country with many enemies. So other countries came together in a blink of an eye and then the war began."

Your gaze falls to the weapon on the wooden table and images of war run through your head. Goosebumps forms on your skin as the sound of guns being fired echoes through your head and you shake slightly. Your breathing changes through your quickening heart and you feel Levi's eyes on you for a split second.

"So that means you guys are the people of losing countries with grudges against Marley. And you infiltrated the army as some sort of intelligence agent?" The air around you thickens and grows heavier and Yelena closes her mouth. You see a small change of temper in her before you stare at Hange. Seconds pass and no one says anything before a small, happy sound comes from the brunette and she smiles broadly at you, "Oh, was that a bullseye? As I thought, you guys must have convincing enough motives and backers to betray Marley like that."

Yelena's hand tightens around her cup and Onyankopon and you do likewise. Again your heart tightens and you lower your gaze. Unnecessary guilt creeps from the depths of your soul to the brightness and spreads through your body. How many people, how many women and men and children have lost their lives? Why are you, of all people, sitting here? What can you contribute? Questions and questions swirl in your head and you literally drown in the wave that drives them.

Your thoughts almost overwhelm you Yelena's voice comes through to you, "We lost our homeland to Marley and join their army as conscripts. We're weak. We also start losing hope in opposing such a big nation. It is until we're guided by him."

Something warm mingles with the tension and darkness as her posture changes and all tension falls from her. Her chin lifts and she looks up into the brightness of the lamp above her, literally making her eyes glow. A slight smile settles on her face as her eyes glaze over, "Marley and the world feared the Titans as devils. However, it looked like something else to me. A god." At these words, she jolts and a shiver runs down your spine. Sometimes Yelena seems like a believer, as if she has seen something that is still hidden from the rest of you. In such moments you notice again how different your drives are, although you are striving for the same goal. Deep down, however, she sometimes frightens you, even if you would never admit it, but she seemed like an addict on the way to her redemption. "He gave us hope when we're at our weakest," she continues and for a moment she seems to float above the tent before coming back to the here and now and lapsing back to normality, "We shot our superior under the orders of Zeke Yeager. We're the Anti-Marleyan Volunteers. Our goal is to free the Eldian people."

"By betraying your own people?", Levi's voice echoes again through the small cloth fenced room and your eyes shoot to him. With the corners of his mouth pulled down, he meets you and you almost choke on your own saliva. Your hands form into fists and your eyebrows draw together.

"She has proven herself often enough. Her background may be different, but we fight for the same goal," Yelena's unimpressed voice pre-empts yours, but the tension between you does not subside. Instead, sparks of anger almost fly out of you. Your self-doubt has just been pulled out of you and laid bare on the table for all to see. It is raging inside you. Hange's gaze also falls on you and she examines your presence, which seems small next to Onyankopon's and especially Yelena's, from top to bottom. "Why is someone from Marley fighting for Eldia?"

Yes, why does anyone do that? Why does one fight alongside the supposed enemy to support their plans? Why do you act wholeheartedly against all that has been impressed upon you all your life?

Your nails dig into your palms and you grit your teeth, "I do not betray my people. I betray those who lead my people."

The memory mixes with the swirl of hot water in front of you. The liquid spreads in the small porcelain vessel and nestles around the leaves, which immediately begin to smell at your touch. Warm steam wets your face and makes the rest of your body shiver.

"Don't worry so much, will you?" says Niccolo from his place at the counter and raises his head. He tilts it slightly and smiles at you. His dark eyes sparkle at you across the room as his blond hair falls wildly across his forehead. It's a stark contrast to the storm going on outside. You return his gaze with a slight smile before he turns his attention back to the vegetables in front of him. The sound of steady chopping movements fills the room and you glance back at the teapot. A sigh falls from your lips and you support yourself with both hands on the countertop.

"That's easier said than done, Niccolo. You know me."

"Yes, I know you and that's why I'm sure you have nothing to worry about".

A soft huff comes out of your mouth and you roll your eyes, "Yeah, sure. That's easy for you to say, Eldian."

His head lifts again and he looks into your eyes with slightly furrowed brows, "I mean it, Marleyan". You pucker the corners of your mouth slightly at that name. Although that is exactly the right name for you, you don't identify with it. The word has a negative connotation and tends to bring bad qualities with it. And that is not you. You are not Marleyan, you are just and simply you.

His face looks more unhappy and he seems thoughtful before a smile settles over his lips again, “I trust you, we trust you and they do too. You've done so much in your time here and even before. Don't be so critical of yourself."

Your eyes fall back to the pot in front of you and you place the lid over the opening. With a push, you push yourself off the counter and cross your arms in front of your chest, "You're right.”

"Of course, I am," he smirks. His radiance continues to fill the room and his warmth reaches you, flooding you and your little heart, and your lips pull up slightly as well. Niccolo is to be envied for his positive nature. He is by far one of the nicest people you have ever had the pleasure of meeting in your life and a truly true friend. Perhaps his nature is also the reason why he is such a good cook. His nimble fingers allow his thoughts and emotions to seep into his food and every bite has a piece of his soul in it.

"I mean, you and Sasha are the best example of what can become of two opposing camps." You hear an uneven cut and see him wince slightly. His cheeks turn pink and a grin spreads across your face. He puts the knife down and places his right hand on the back of his neck, nervously stroking his hair, "Yeah, you think so?"

"Who doesn't?" the tips of his ears turn pink too. He looks cute.

"My food is just good. That's the real reason Sasha comes."

You snort. "No, Sasha comes for your food as well. But I'm sure there's another, bigger point that's much more important." Again, a smile curls his lips and he looks happy.

"I envy you for that," you murmur, your expression changing slightly. A tide of sadness settles over you, leaving your body shivering.

"Envy me? But for what?"

"I just wish I could get along with them as well. I wish I had a significant other too."

Now comes a snort from Niccolo. Surprised, you look at him and he shakes his head, "Yes, I have Sasha. But you have someone else for that". As you continue to look confused, he takes the towel from his shoulder and throws it on the countertop. "Don't act like that. I've seen the looks on his face. Don't pretend you don't know who and what I'm talking about."

You tear open your eyes and your breath catches in your throat. Immediately a heat rises to your face as you understand who he is talking about and a deep blush settles over your cheeks, far surpassing his.

"I-I don't know what you mean," you stammer to yourself as your face gets even hotter and it is now time for Niccolo to grin at you. "N-no, you've got it wrong. Levi and I ... we ... this is absolutely nothing."

"So Levi, huh?" You slap yourself for saying his first name so carelessly.

"The captain and I," you begin again, "there is nothing. I don't think there could be anything with anyone either. You know him, he's a cold lump of ice." You look down at your feet on the floor, "besides, he hates Marley and I can't even blame him."

A silence settles over you before you hear footsteps. As Niccolo puts his hand on your shoulder, you lift your gaze again and warm brown looks at you. "That may be, but I can tell you one thing: I can clearly see that he doesn't hate you".

"You think so, huh?" you bite your lower lip, unable to suppress the flutter of wings from the butterflies in your stomach. He squeezes your shoulder lightly with his hand, "I mean it, yes."

You mirror his soft smile, but it doesn't reach your heart. Maybe Niccolo is right in what he says, but it was rather unlikely and your body can't imagine Levi feeling this way. Your head tells you that's not the case. You are alone.

A knock on the door snaps you out of your thoughts and he drops his arm. The wooden door opens with a soft squeak and a dark brown pigtail pokes its head into the room. Big brown eyes look at you and you notice Niccolo's energy change.

"I hope I'm not too late," Sasha says happily and opens the door wider. Still in her uniform, which accentuates the curves of her body, she raises her hand and waves at you. You smile broadly at her and take a step back.

"Absolutely not, you're just in time. I've already got the vegetables ready," Niccolo says, grabbing the kitchen towel again. Sasha jumps in the air with happiness and runs past him to the counter with the chopping board. You see another slight blush on Niccolo's face before he turns away from you and takes his place beside her. You watch the two of them for a brief moment and your heart blossoms. Who would have ever thought that feelings could arise between two actually so hostile parties. And they both seem more than happy, even if it is hard to tell at the moment because Sasha is literally foaming at the mouth with hunger. You place the teapot on the tray next to it and leave the two of them discussing about the best temperature for the soup.

Your feet carry you through the kitchen door and you stride down a long corridor. The storm outside is slowly getting stronger, whipping against the windows. Without thinking, you walk through the building. You have been walking this way several times a day for several months now, you could serve tea in your sleep. By now you are probably even better at this than at holding a gun and fighting. When you reach the end, you stop in front of a large door.

Your knuckles touch the wood and you knock on it three times in quick succession. There is silence for a moment before Levi's dark voice comes muffled from the other side of the door, "Name and request."

You clear your throat briefly, "It's me, sir. I've brought your lunchtime tea." You hear the rustling of paper for a brief moment.

"Come in."

Your hand grips the cold metal of the door handle and you push it down.

The captain's office is probably very similar to the one in the capital, at least that's how Hange once described it to you. In his back is a large window framed by curtains, through which the sun's rays fall in the afternoon. Due to the rain today, however, it is a little darker and rather unlikely that you will be able to see the setting of the sun. The remaining walls are either empty or filled with shelves containing all kinds of books. In the back half is a massive desk, its surface almost completely filled with stacks of papers. Levi sits in his chair, as he usually does, his head bent over his papers, causing strands of his black hair to spread across his forehead.

There is a scent of detergent in the room, which mixes with his body odour. Sometimes you have the feeling that he is gradually taking on the smell of lemon and lime and regret the fall of cedar, earth and something else that you could never quite put your finger on until now. As soon as he senses your presence at the entrance, his eyes lift and your heart slips a little. You lick your lower lip to moisten it and feel your hands grow a little damp as you clutch the handles of the tray. Shadows are on his face and you can see the circles that have formed under his eyes.

For a brief moment you look at each other before you tear your gaze away and your feet move across the wooden floor.

"How are you, sir?" you ask as you set the tray down on a dresser on the left wall and take the cup and coaster in your hand.

"Tch, I already told you that you can call me Levi."

Your toes just barely touch the surface of the water and you dip them in before they come back out. It was completely silent except for the chatter of the people behind you and the sound of the ocean. Somewhere you could make out Niccolo's loud laughter and you smirk inwardly. The waves of the sea flow towards you before breaking on the piers of the pier.

The moon is still low over the horizon, but a few stars can already be seen in the cloudless sky. A gentle breeze sweeps over you and you pull your jacket tighter around you, snuggling into it. It is so incredibly peaceful and beautiful, it is hard to put into words.

"Tch, you shouldn't go so far away," says a cold, deep voice behind you, a total contrast to the rest of the scenario. Startled, you turn away from the reflection of the twinkling stars and look behind you.

His hands buried in the pockets of his suit, he looks down at you with a slightly annoyed expression and half-closed eyes. His figure is captured by the black fabric and it flatters him very much, fitting perfectly. You wonder if he had it tailored. A cold shiver runs down your spine as he eyes you.

"I-I'm so sorry, sir," you stammer, pulling your feet out of the water. Just as you are about to get up to quickly run back to the others to not annoy the captain more, he plops down beside you. Confused, you stare straight ahead and tense up as he makes himself comfortable next to you. Should you go now anyway? After a few seconds, he makes no move to tell you again, so you remain seated. The mood remains tense and does not fit in at all with the relaxing sounds around you. His hand is right next to yours and your knees are almost touching. Out of the corner of your eye you eye him and maybe it's the moonlight accentuating his contours, but he looks different. Had he always been so handsome? Such a face should be forbidden. A breeze comes up again, tousling his hair slightly, and you breathe in. Has he always smelled this good? Such a smell should be forbidden.

You look towards the moon, trying to control your rapid heartbeat. Your hands begin to sweat and the situation becomes uncomfortable. You've never spent any of your free time with him before, it doesn't feel right.

"Doesn’t it look beautiful ," you murmur to break the silence.

You hear a snort beside you and look at Levi, instantly regretting your statement. His eyes resemble the stars in the sky, even as they slowly turn dull and grey, "Yes, but at what cost?"

You frown slightly, confused by his statement and he looks past you, "How long we fought to be able to sit here."

A light goes on in your head and you bite the inside of your cheek. You didn't mean it like that, that's not what you wanted. Shame and anger come over you. Sasha told you a bit about her background when she was with you and Niccolo in the kitchen. You could never understand how much they have been through. The pain they are in is immeasurable.

"How many people I have lost to sit here," he murmurs, probably more to himself than to you, "Isabel, Petra, Erwin...", at the last name his voice breaks off and he hangs his head. The next breath of wind that surrounds you makes you freeze. This situation is cruel and deep inside you ask yourself how it came to this and why he is saying these things to you of all people. None of these names mean anything to you, but you feel his pain. You have never seen him like this, so fragile and weak. Tears come to your eyes and you are speechless. Your heart tightens and you feel the need to take him in your arms, to help him somehow. A huge burden lies on you. Your people have done this and now you have to make up for these mistakes. At that moment you realise that this will never be possible. You can never make up for something like this. It remains silent between you, the sea no longer has anything happy about it. Instead, it seems to you that every sound, every wave, reflects the cries of fallen friends, comrades and families.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, looking down at your hands, which you place in your lap. A tear drips onto them and you brush it away.

"Don't be. It's not your fault."

Your head lifts and you look at him. His gaze is averted and his knuckles turn white as he grips the edge of the pier.

"Yes, it is. Somehow it is," you murmur, seeking his gaze. As he returns it, the grey in them moves and slowly changes again. "I should have done something sooner, I'm so sorry. I can never make it right, but I'm trying to do everything in my power to make sure it never happens again. So that no one ever has to suffer at the hands of my people again, sir." Please believe me.

There it is again, the silver sparkle slowly coming back. Your heart beats heavy inside you, burning. Levi eyes you for a long time, letting his eyes glide over your features, and you do the same. You block out your surroundings, taking in only the sound of his steady breathing and the feel of his closeness.

"Call me Levi."

A barely perceptible blush settles over your cheeks once more as you set the dishes down on the only small space on the desk and remember this scene. Forms, reports and the like form a neat chaos that follows a strict principle. Never have your eyes seen even a piece of paper on this floor. He is the cleanest person you have ever met.

"Sorry, I just got so used to call you sir or captain." You lift your gaze briefly, looking into cool grey. Your assumption earlier was correct, his dark circles are darker than ever. He looks terribly tired and exhausted, but that doesn't stop him from continuing to maintain his strong posture.

You smile at him briefly before going back to the dresser. You feel his eyes on you the whole time, which sends a warm shiver down your spine.

"When was the last time you had a break?" your hands grip the porcelain of the pot. There is a silence between you as you pour him his tea. His lack of response speaks volumes and you feel sorry for him. It must not be easy being in charge next to Hange. Does he ever wish for a break inside? Does he even know such a thing? The quiet flow of liquid breaks the silence as he continues to look at you. Your nervousness increases and your butterflies fly stronger, tickling your stomach.

As always, he takes a sip of tea as soon as you finish and as always, you look at his fingers as they wrap around the top of the cup. Many times you have wondered where he had learned to drink like that, but over time your thoughts change. Instead you admire his hands, his long slender limbs that conjure up dreams in your mind. Your left hand forms into a fist as your face turns red.

"Good", he says as he raises an eyebrow and eyes you questioningly.

You just nod at him and walk quickly back to the dresser, hiding your face from him. As you put the pot back in its place, your hands tremble and you take a deep breath to slow your breathing. It is unimaginable what he is doing to you. Is this how Niccolo always feels when he sees Sasha?

Finally, you turn and look down at the floor, "Is there anything else I can do for you?" Your hands play nervously with each other as you hold them in front of your body.

Silence falls again and seconds pass, it takes longer than usual to answer this question and you are beginning to wonder if he didn’t hear you.

"No, you can go," he finally says. You nod and head for the door. You don't dare look at him again, to prevent him from reading you like a book. Because he is extremely good in this area. Sometimes he knows more about his counterpart than he does himself. Just as you are about to reach for the door handle again and push it down, you hear his voice again, "Are you happy here?"

You open your eyes slightly and turn to him. Your eyes cross again and your forehead wrinkles. His eyes look different than usual, the grey seems much warmer and ... darker? You have never seen his eyes this colour before. You swallow hard and give up trying to control your heart. His question is unexpected and you can't find an immediate answer. In fact, you've asked it yourself many times before. There is no comparison to Marley, positive or negative, it is a very different life. Either way, it feels like you're a prisoner. Like you don't belong in either world. You remember Marley, your family, who you will probably never see again because they never want to see you again. At the latest after they found out you were leaving them, you were on your own. But you are sure that they already had an idea of what it was like and that their hatred began much earlier. How different your thoughts were and are compared to those of the rest of the people there. And here in the realm of the devils, it hardly seems any different. Of course, you are now a little closer to your goal, but even here you are not welcome. You fight for people who do not want you.

"I'm not unhappy," you murmur and slump your shoulders, "I just feel lonely."

You see his head working and an emotion wash over his face. Again, there is a long silence before he opens his mouth, "Why lonely?"

"Well," you stammer a little, surprised at the direction your encounter today is taking. It's funny how much has changed since that time in the tent.

"It seems to me that everyone has their purpose, that everyone knows their place. Yelena, for example, led us here, has been our leader from the beginning. She takes care of all these important things and what do I do? I get to help Niccolo prepare the food and I get to bring you tea." Your hands form into fists and anger rises from your belly. "I'm not allowed to go anywhere near the city or you'd have to worry that I won't come back because they've put an end to my life. What have I been fighting for all this time?" Without you realising it yourself, your voice rises and you become louder. "I try to do something good, to achieve something, but nothing happens. I can't do anything. What am I doing here? What did I do in Marley? Why does everyone hate me?", the last words are more of a whisper and you feel tears welling up in your eyes. Your emotions overtake you. The anger slowly fades, leaving a bitter, nauseating taste. You are so pathetic. Your life is useless, you are useless. You stand in the office of the man who is your superior, who is supposed to look after you so that you don't betray anyone, who hates your people from the bottom of his heart and who brings out feelings in you that shouldn't be there. Your body begins to shake slightly and you wipe away individual tears. What has happened to you since that moment in the tent? You feel as if you are losing sight of your purpose, the one thing that drove you to keep living.

"I don't hate you."

You look at him in surprise. His body looks tense and you regret having such an outburst. Levi is not really one of the people you should and would pour your heart out to like that. Suddenly you feel terribly small and stupid. While you have confided in each other more and more little things over time, such outbursts of emotion is still unusual. Especially since Levi very rarely lets you see through his shell. He probably just wanted to be nice and didn't expect you to pour your heart out to him right away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have burdened you with this." You straighten your figure and smile at him. "If anything should be the matter, don't hesitate to let me know". With these words, you turn and open the door. You want nothing more than to leave this room and escape from this uncomfortable situation.

Before you can take a single step, it slams shut again. Immediately you tense up and freeze. Your eyes widen in shock and surprise. His hand is right next to your head and his body is leaning against the wood. His presence is strong and warm and you feel the need to fall backwards against him. Your belly does somersaults and the butterflies come to life. Slowly, as if in slow motion, you turn towards him and immediately press yourself against the door behind you. He is close, much too close, much closer than you suspected. His eyes sparkle at you, the grey has turned to silver which darkens as you return his gaze. You feel trapped like an animal about to be eaten by its hunter.

" You are talking bullshit, idiot," his warm breath swirls over your skin, his dark voice even deeper than usual. You expel a long-held breath and your nails dig into your skin as you form your hands into fists again. The tension between you is huge and the air is about to crackle. Your heart beats with strong, firm thumps against your ribcage. If it keeps up like this, it's going to jump out.

"Yeah, you think so?" you murmur, licking your dry lower lip. You press harder against the door as his gaze lands on your lips. Your chest almost aches from the hammering of your heart. You feel as if you are about to throw up. Your nerve endings tingle with anticipation. Very slowly his head moves towards you. If this is a dream, you don't want to wake up, ever. The movements are barely noticeable and you hold your breath again.

"Yes, I think so," he murmurs, stopping in front of your face. His silver eyes meet yours and a deep, strong feeling runs through you. He sees something in your eyes just before his lips touch yours. You don't dare move. The touch is light as a feather and your eyes close to take it in fully. His lips are much softer than you expected. They move like wings against yours and your eyes roll into your skull. Despite the light touch, whole emotions wash over you that you can barely tell apart. Lust, loss, happiness, sadness, desire, restraint. They swirl through your head and make you dizzy. He leans closer against you and you can't suppress the soft moan that escapes you. His body tenses, but he doesn't flinch. Instead, the kiss becomes more decisive, stronger. His tongue licks over your lower lip and you collapse inside. Another moan comes from you, this time a lot louder and you open your lips, greedy to get more, to taste more. The kiss breaks away, leaving you both breathless. Your head spins and all your weight falls against the door, your legs wobbly. You can't deny that you've thought about scenarios like this many times.

And your eyes meet again and your heart aches for a brief moment as you can see something in them. "This shouldn't have happened," you sum up your train of thought and speak it. The sentence hangs between you. You see the approval in his eyes, but his body makes no move in it. His chest rises almost as fast as yours and his expression is inscrutable. It almost seems as if he is fighting an internal battle, "You're right, the risk is too great."

Your head is screaming at you to leave, to say goodbye here and now and step through that door. You need to get some distance. This must never, ever happen again. Please, please go. Your head repeats these words over and over. But your gut...

"Would you take the risk again?"

Not even a second passes after you have uttered the sentence. Not even a second passes before his lips land on yours again. This time it is completely different. The kiss is more brutal. Immediately his tongue snakes between your lips, finding its way into your mouth. You play with each other as you cling to his shoulders to keep from falling over. His arms wrap around your waist and he pulls you against him. Your whole body is on fire as he explores your mouth with pleasure. He elicits one moan after another and enjoys the little noises you make. Your brain can barely process what is going on. What is happening here? An Eldian and a Marleyan? How can that be? Of course, it's similar with Niccolo and Sasha, but Levi is a completely different act. He was the person who even made a name for himself in Marley, a country he has never been to. He is one of the highest animals here.

He's just unbelievably perfect.

He releases the kiss and you gasp. Immediately his lips settle on your jaw before he moves further down and sucks on your neck. His tongue runs over your pulse and it takes your breath away. Is this really going to lead to that one thing? Should you really be doing this? The questions in your head give you a headache that eases as soon as he sucks on the thin skin of your neck. Slowly your head gives up, the screaming quiets and instead your gut and heart come to the fore, wanting in unison just the opposite. You want to feel him, more than this.

Awkwardly, your hands wander to his belt and you try to undo the buckle with trembling hands. All this is not so easy when you have no idea about it. To your surprise, he doesn't stop you. You can still feel the battle he is fighting inside, but it seems that his heart is also stronger. His big hands dig into your hips and he lurks above you. His mouth finds yours again and he kisses the swollen lips, sucking on them and in the same move your soul out of you. What takes you what feels like an eternity is only a few moves for him. He opens your trousers with an ease that makes your knees go weak. His hands move from your hips to the waistband and he pushes it off your pelvis. Without releasing the kiss, you slide them off your legs and feet. Goosebumps form on your legs as your overheated skin touches the cool air in the room.

His hands run over your pelvic bone, down to your thighs and caress your soft skin. A soft moan comes from him at the touch, making the butterflies in your stomach dance again. He reaches around your legs and lifts you up, his hands moving to your buttocks in the same motion and clasping it. You whimper as soon as you feel them. Never before had a man touched you like this. When should that have happened too? You have spent most of your life in the midst of war, never having had time for such things. He kneads the fat of your ass and a deep, dark moan comes from deep in his throat. The sound makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up and you cling to him. He holds you tightly to his body and you feel as if you are both drowning men, clinging to the last bit of your lives.

"This wasn't supposed to happen," he moans against your neck as he strokes your soft skin and pulls your ass cheeks apart.

"I know," you gasp, your eyes fluttering shut for a brief moment.

"And I'm sorry it's happening here now."

"It's okay." His hands dig deeper into the flesh and your lower body is on fire. You've never felt such lust and greed in your life.

"No, it isn't. You deserve better". With these words you feel his fingers between your legs, the fingers you had thought about so many times before, and you go insane. It is indescribable when he pulls the thin fabric aside. It is indescribable when the cool air hits your core and then his fingers brush against it. Your nails dig into the fabric of his shirt, you moan loudly against his neck and bury your face, grateful that he can't see it right now.

His fingers caress your cunt and you whimper. Your pelvis automatically presses against his hand before it disappears. And again, it is indescribable as you feel his tip between your lower lips. He smears your juice, rubbing it along his hard cock before you feel it against your hole. "I just can't hold back anymore, I'm so sorry".

You draw in air through your nose, tensing slightly. A mixture of fear and anticipation, panic and anticipation, flows through your body. Your cunt tingles and there is only one thing that can soothe that tingle.

His tip penetrates you. Your world turns upside down and you groan. Your eyes close and you focus on the sensation. In all your imaginings, secretly night after night as his eyes roamed your mind, it was never like this. The pain you wait for doesn't come. Instead, a warm, indescribable feeling flows through you. Every inch of him stretches you further, fills you. It fits so damn perfectly, like it was never meant to be any other way. When he's completely inside you, he exhales shakily and you only notice now how tense he is. A moan comes from his lips as your insides clench and you lean back, your back pressed against the door again. Your eyes meet and your mouth opens slightly. There is a slight blush on his cheeks too, barely noticeable. His eyebrows are slightly drawn together, creating creases between them, and his eyes are almost black. You lift your right hand and place it against his cheek, caressing his cheekbone. He looks so erotic. As if he can read your mind, he leans down to you and again your lips touch, but this time more gently, as if this moment is fragile.

His pelvis pulls back and he thrusts for the first time. You moan out, enjoying the feeling of being completely filled. Your kiss breaks away and he rests his forehead against yours. With your eyes closed, he thrusts against you again and again, stretching your walls, fucking you against the door. Your moans grow louder and you are unbelievably happy that the rain outside has become heavier. The whipping of the wind and the patter of the drops against the windows mixes with your sounds, almost drowning them out, making it less likely that you can be heard.

Your hands wrap around the back of his neck and you bury them in the stubble of his hair.

He searches your eyes again. Intense stares burn into your brain and the speed and hardness of his thrusts become harder. Something deep inside you stirs and you can't stop the tears that run down your cheek. They travel down your cheek and drip onto your legs, which are still tight around Levi's waist. This day is like a wild rollercoaster ride, one emotion after another overtakes you and you can hardly recover from the ups and downs. And now being fucked by Levi, for the first time in your life, leaves you speechless.

There is a tingling underneath your stomach, this time different from what the butterflies cause. You can't quite place the feeling, but you want more. Levi seems to be feeling the same way, his speed picking up even faster and his hands digging almost painfully into your ass. You stare at each other as you both moan again and again, the knot tightening and tightening. More, please more.

"I don't hate you," he whispers, repeating his words from earlier, hitting a specific spot inside you. You moan loudly and he does the same. Tears roll down your cheeks again and you are so close. His eyes watch your face and your trembling lips tell him everything. He keeps the angle, keeps bumping into that one spot that makes you fly. All the while he keeps repeating that one sentence, burning it into your minds so that you, above all, can never forget it.

"I don't hate you either," you gasp before your insides explode. It's like a firework that takes you with it. This is how you imagine flying. Nothing in your life has ever felt so good. You scream Levi's name, preaching it and clinging to it, clawing into it. Your soft walls twitch like crazy, driving Levi to explode too. He leans all his weight against you and the door, moaning as he continues to fuck you, albeit slower and slower.

As soon as you come down from your high, he slides to the floor with you in his arms. His right hand goes to the back of your head and he strokes your hair as your head rests against his neck again.

"I promise you that you will never feel lonely again."

#levi x reader #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi #levi heichou #shingeki no kyoujin #snk #attack on titan #aot

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nightowlfandom · 4 years

Text

Billy Loomis and Stu Macher x Reader- 27 (Part 2)

Hey beautiful people! SOOOO I got a comment on my last Scream imagine and they said...

ok but like a part 2 where we go picking them all off one by one and tell them what happened to (y/n) before we end them? and the revenge on the parents for it too? make them feel sorry for what they did and expose them to everyone. I mean not forcing but lightly tapping an idea

and....I AM IN LOVE...SO I GOT YOU BRAH

READ PART 1?

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!

Okay so you know the drill, I will let you know when to proceed with caution.

LEGGO!

... (Picking up directly after the events of part 1)

“...My parents weren’t the most loving people around.” you stared down at your fingertips. “They were overbearing...very controlling...loved to gaslight me from time to time.” you felt a lump form in your throat. “After the Hanna thing, they tried to sent me to boarding school.”

You three sat in Stu’s basement. You sat cross-legged on the floor and Stu and Billy cleaned up the dead body. Stu had given you a rag to wipe the blood off your face and hands.

“A while back before we all met...my parents weren’t too bad. Then Hanna came along and decided to ruin that for me too. She and her friends dragged me into the woods and beat me up...I was bleeding out everywhere...she told my parents I attacked her...she told them that I-..That I tried to kill her.” you shook your head. “My parents never looked at me the same...like they disowned me without saying they did.” you sniffed.

“What about the others?” Billy ceased his activities to stare at you. He was impressed how well you seemed to be taking everything.

“ Dylan leaked my friend’s nudes, Jennifer is Hanna’s slave...she was Hanna Number 2 when she couldn’t torture anyone else. Rachel....I just hate Rachel, and Cameron...is my ex.” you explained. “There are others...many others.” you seethed.

“And we’ll get to all of them.” Stu finished his job of tying Hanna’s legs together. “But first...how do you feel?”

“Like I just killed someone.” you half-joked, bringing your knees to your chest. “Why didn’t you guys tell me?”

“We didn’t want to scare you.” Billy reminded you. “We know how you are Y/N.”

“Still.” you pouted. “It would have been nice to know that you two were behind all this.” you stared at the floor. “Why didn’t you guys...y’know-”

“We wanted to...” Billy dusted himself off. “We tried...then you just had to charm us with that smile of yours.” he bit his lip as he smiled at the thought. “You just had to go and be adorable.”

There he was, standing with Stu hunched over a notebook of possible victims. They had agreed you’d be next, they really did. They had introduced themselves to you and gained your trust, but along the way, your kindness, your willingness to be so vulnerable around then...accepting them (especially Billy) for their flaws, they couldn’t...they wouldn’t.

“Can I help with anything?” you asked, standing to your feet.

“Not unless you know a place to dump this body.” Billy replied.

“There’s a lake behind Hanna’s house...” you recalled. “I saw it when my parents used to go over there for dinner.”

“Great!” Stu skipped over and took you in a hug. “So who do you wanna get first?”

“Me? You’re letting me choose?” you stared up at Stu who swore up and down you looked the most adorable you ever have, if that was even possible.

“This is your list, isn’t it?” Billy casually strode over. He tilted your chin up at him. “Just let us take care of it.”

“...Dylan first.” you concluded. “It’s for my friend...he has to go.” you asserted.

“As you wish princess.”

...(The Next Day)

You trudged away from your parent’s car, doing your usual habits of ignoring them as they saw you off. You saw Billy and Stu waiting for you on some benches. They glared behind you, obviously getting a good look of your parents.

“Hey cutie.” Stu threw himself at you, hugging you super tight. “How’d you sleep?”

“Shitty...” you mumbled. “Guess who just caught word of Hannas’s...untimely demise.”

“Serves the bitch right.” Billy flicked his middle finger at your parents as they drove off. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Dylan throwing around a football with his friends. His gaze darted in your direction. He looked surprised to see you and Stu so close, so much so that he hesitated to throw the ball back to his friends. “Hey asshole, you got your turn. Hand her over.” Billy flicked Stu on the head as he pulled your out of Stu’s embrace.

“Oh you’re no fun.” Stu laughed, waving him off. Billy wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to his chest and gingerly trailing his fingers down your back.

“Hey Y/N...”

You paused your momentary happy moment when Dylan came jogging up. You pulled away from Billy and faced your friend’s ex-boyfriend. “What?”

“Um...Hey.” he did that douche-bag hair flip. “What’s up?”

“I’m just spectacular.” you grimaced. He was really talking to you like he wasn’t the reason your only other friend switched schools. “Need something?”

“Yeah. I wanted to invite you to my party tonight.”

‘I’d rather-” you began, only to realize the mega opportunity you’d receive.

“Are your other friends coming?” you shifted all your weight to one side and pretended to absentmindedly twirl your hair.

“Um...Y-yeah.” he nodded.

“Can my friends come?” you acted oblivious and dumb, the only language he and his friends seemed to understand when it came to women.

“Sure. They can come join the fun.” he winked. “Tonight, 8:00 o’clock.”

“Splendid, you winked. I’ll be there.”

As Dylan returned to his friends, all of them laughing about the joke they thought you didn’t understand, Billy and Stu stood at your sides.

“You’re killer is showing, love.” Stu kissed the side of your head. “Easy now.” he laughed, even though he knew he was talking complete bullshit.

“I’m gonna have so much fun slitting that one’s throat.” Billy pointed to Rachel. “This is gonna be awesome.”

...(That Night)

You had managed to make it a few hours. Without completely losing your mind. Billy had taken it upon himself to put up him brooding angst-filled sadboi attitude and Stu showed up in his honorary pimp robe.

Now you all were sitting in a circle, playing stupid games.

“Y/N...truth or dare?” Jennifer called on you next, noticing how quiet you had been.

“Kiss, Fuck, Or Kill. Stu Macher, Cameron Kent, and Dylan Bayle.”

With a bored grin, you looked her right in the eye. She dared you to say you would fuck her boyfriend, little does she know...

“I guess I’d have to kiss Cameron...” you began warmly, recalling how you two used to date. Gross... “And as much as I love pissing you off...I wouldn’t touch Dylan with a ten foot pole...so I’d have sex with Stu.”

A few wolf whistles from the guy chorused around the circle as a few guys pat Stu on the back. Your eyes looked over at Stu whose cheeks were tinted pink. He shot you a smile and a quick wink.

“And you know what that leaves?...I’d kill Dylan.” you smirked, only to put on a front again. Before anyone could say anything else, you all heard a phone ring. Coincidentally, the phone was right next to you.

“Y/N, get that will you. Put it on speaker.”

“I got you.” you grabbed the phone. “Hello?”

“What number is this?”

“What number are you trying to reach?” you replied.

“I dunno...”

“Sure buddy.” you rolled your eyes as you hung up.

“Okay! Dylan!” Rachel drunkenly asked. “Truth or Dare!”

“Dare baby!” Dylan laughed.

“I dare you to go into the bedroom with Y/N and do something with her!” she laughed. “You can’t leave until you do something!”

“Did anyone ask my opinion on this?” you felt disgusted as the words left your mouth. How much longer were you gonna have to put up with this? “Stu, help me out!”

“A dare’s a dare, babe.” he laughed as he took another swig of whatever.

“Ugh!!” you grimaced as you stood up and followed Dylan. You made sure to lightly bump your shoulder against Stu’s as you walked. You two looked eyes momentarily, sharing a discrete smirk between eachother.

The door closed behind you. (PROCEED WITH CAUTION! READ MORE BELOW THE LINE BREAK)

...

You stood there, playing with your fingers as Dylan came up to you.

“You know Y/N...I’ve always liked you.”

“Oh really?” you asked shyly. “W-well why didn’t you tell me?” you half giggled half gagged.

“I couldn’t find the right words.” he reached out to touch your cheek.

Meanwhile downstairs, everyone laughed at the hidden camera footage they were watching. They couldn’t wait to post this to the school’s website.

“Oh my god!” you screamed at you pointed behind Dylan. Everyone watched as a dark hooded figure creeped up behind Dylan and grabbed him buy the back of his head, digging a knife into his shoulder. Then he charged for you, stabbing you in the stomach...slowly but surely he creeped up to the camera, looking directly at it. “Nuh uh uh~” he sang before he punched the camera, causing the signal to break.

This caused everyone to scream bloody murder and attempted to scream.

Back in the bedroom, you had managed to hear the screaming. “Can I get up now?” you rolled over. “Pretending to die is so weird.”

“Allow me.” Billy walked over and helped you to your feet, ridding himself of his Ghostface mask. “You look good covered in fake blood.”

“Do I?” you fake pouted. Billy didn’t answer and instead kissed you. He held your face in his hands, gently moving his soft lips against yours. He would have went crazy is Dylan managed to get that far. He was glad that he could finally show how he felt about you in a personal way.

“You do.” he bit his lip as he pulled away.

“W-what the fuck?!” Dylan, who was very much alive looked between you two. “You’re in on this.”

“Oh shut up!” you grabbed Billy’s knife and walked up to him. “Kyla Grayson, who is she?”

“Kyla Grayson?”

“ARE YOU AN ECHO?” you snapped. “Who is she?”

“I don’t know! I swear!” he tried to cower away from you.

“You don’t remember showing private pictures of a young impressionable freshman to your fucking friends?” you glared. “She trusted you...she liked you a lot...and because of you she had to move to a different county.” you raised the knife over your head. “Any last words?”

“SURPRISE!” Stu burst through the door, also dawning a Ghostface getup, only without the voice changer. He was dragging Jennifer and Rachel by the hair.

“You’re just in time for the show.” you said, not looking up from Dylan.

“Y/N...y-you’re-”

“Don’t talk.” you kept your eyes on Dylan. “I’ll get to you soon.”

(Part 3 will be revenge against your parents)

#slasher imagines #slasher fanfiction #imagines #slashers x reader #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #ghostface imagines #billy x reader x stu #scream imagines #billy loomis imagines #stu macher imagines #horror imagines #poly ghostface

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nethandrake · 3 years

Text

Blood In The Water

stevethortony. mcu. rated t. 1.8k words.

based on this fanart i commissioned from @justlous-art

also on ao3.

*****

Press conferences, in Clint’s opinion, are one of the worst things he has to experience.

Every time the Avengers has to host one (which is usually almost every fucking week), it’s always the same old reporters throwing accusations, the same old debates being tosses around, the same old headaches and boredom creeping into his mind. They always end with everyone in a shitty mood.

The only upside Clint could see is that he only needs to speak up if a question’s directed his way. Otherwise, it’d be their co-leaders’ job to fend the wolves off.

Their co-leaders who are currently and unfortunately answering another stupid question from the press.

“Yes, Stark Industries will be footing the bill,” Steve says tiredly.

“We always do,” Tony chimes in. “Now, you with the green-striped tie. You’re up.”

The journalist in question straightens, fixing his tie. Clint doesn’t remember seeing him at any of the conferences but he looks awfully familiar.

“He’s from Fox News,” Natasha supplies next to Clint.

It takes everything in Clint to not bash his smash his face against the conference table. “Shit.”

“Shit indeed.”

“It is no secret that Mr Stark is, to put it lightly,” Fox Man begins, his reedy voice making Clint’s skin crawl, “promiscuous—”

“What does this have to do with the giant squid we took down?” Steve interrupts.

“—and have been known to get into relationships with men, women—”

“What is the point of this?” Thor cuts in, his cool demeanor now turned irritated. “We are deviating from the—”

“My question to you, Captain,” Fox Man continues, unperturbed, “is, what are your thoughts regarding Mr Stark and Mr Odinson’s…relationship?”

Tony stills as murmurs begin to fill the room. Pepper immediately whips her tablet out.

It’s not the first time Clint’s heard of rumors of the Avengers dating amongst themselves but it’s never been brought up during their press conferences.

First time for everything, he supposes.

Thor jumps to his feet, slamming his hands on the table. Outside, thunder crackles.

“You dare—”

Steve isn’t doing much better to rein his temper in, leaning forward with a dangerous glint behind his eyes. “I’d be careful with what you say next. Rumors of the Avengers fraternizing isn’t new so—”

“Oh, this isn’t just a rumor,” Fox Man says coolly. He jumps to his feet, holding out his phone. “I happen to have…proof.”

In a flash, Happy strides over, most likely to block the man’s path like the good Head of Security he is. Steve waves him off, beckoning for the device to be handed over to Clint.

On the phone is a picture of Thor and Tony kissing in a dimly lit alleyway. Or at least, men who are supposedly Thor and Tony. It’s hard to tell since the quality’s crap.

Then again, they’re both bathed in a soft blue glow. A soft blue glow that Clint’s come to associate with the arc reactor.

“That isn’t photoshopped,” Fox Man claims. “If you swipe left, you’ll find a video.”

True enough, there is one of Thor pushing Tony against the wall and god, that’s so gross. Who knows what’s on that wall—

Natasha snatches the phone out of Clint’s grasp, giving it a long once-over.

“Thoughts?” Clint murmurs.

“It looks authentic,” she admits.

Well, then. Fuck.

When the phone ends up in Steve’s grasp, Clint swears cracks form on the screen.

“I would like to know if there have been…issues between you and Mr Stark,” Fox Man continues like the oblivious idiot he is. Clint’s ready to reach pluck an arrow from his quiver and pin the asshole to a wall. “You come from a different time, a time where traditional and wholesome American values are valued. Mr Stark isn’t known for possessing such values. And it is widely known that you and Mr Stark did not get along. And with this…alien—”

“I get it,” Steve growls. It’s been a while since Clint’s seen in this furious. He looks ready to pounce, if Tony hasn’t stilled him in place.

Steve’s features meld into something soft, a look that Clint’s privately coined as the ‘Tony Look’. Oddly, it’s the same look he flashes Thor. The three of them trade glances, glances that only a super soldier, a god, and a genius would know. Tony’s lips curl into a reassured smirk. The other follow suit.

Clint wonders if that’s how Natasha and him are like. Because damn, he gets why people think it’s eerie.

“First of all, let me be clear about this,” Steve begins, “I will not let you or anyone disrespect my friends like that ever again. This is a warning to the rest of you all as well. You, however, I’ll make sure you’ll be banned from the next conference. And don’t think I won’t remember your face. Because I will. I have a good memory. As for your question, I don’t have anything to say about that. But I do have something to show you.”

Without hesitation, Steve leans over to capture Tony’s lips in his.

Clint would’ve toppled over if Natasha hadn’t steadied his chair.

“That’s…”

“Bold?”

“I was gonna say unexpected,” Clint says. “But yeah, sure. Let’s go with that.”

It’s an open secret among the Avengers that Steve and Thor have been hopelessly pining for Tony for months, even going so far as trying to outdo each other with their efforts of wooing Tony.

Judging by the way Tony’s cupping Steve’s face as they make out and the shit-eating grin Thor has plastered on as he saunters over to the two, it seems like they’ve come to a mutual agreement. A silent mutual agreement.

How the fuck did this escape the rest of their notice? Of Clint’s notice? Steve and Thor are two of the least subtle people around. The fact that they and Tony could keep their relationship on the downlow is blowing Clint’s mind.

Steve and Tony part with a quiet smack. Tony turns in his seat to fist Thor’s shirt to give his own kiss.

“I think my brain’s short-circuiting.”

Natasha scoffs. “You’re acting as if you’ve never seen two men kiss in your life.”

“Well, I’ve never seen my friends kiss each other,” Clint hisses. “You gotta cut me some slack here. I mean, look at Bruce.”

“Bruce looks fine.”

“His eyebrows look like they’re gonna climb off his forehead.”

Steve’s cheeks are flaming red when he shyly turns back to the stunned crowd in front of him. His expression quickly turns icy when he meets Fox Man’s eyes, who looks torn between hiding in a hole or lighting the rest of them on fire.

“Does that answer your question?” he challenges. “Or do you need me to give you another demonstration?”

Thor doesn’t let Fox Man reply, smirking as he inches over to Steve. “I dare say we have not finished his question, my love.”

And with that, he seals Steve’s lips with his.

Clint almost passes out.

“Okay,” Natasha says. “Now, that? That I didn’t see coming.”

Tony’s all smiles as he watches his boyfriends (boyfriends!!!!!) make out in front of everyone. It’s the smuggest and proudest he’s ever seen him.

“Suck it,” he says into the microphone, casually flipping off Fox Man, who looks like he’s ready to explode.

For some unexplainable reason, the rest of the journalists zero in on Clint after that.

“Don’t look at me,” he says, hands held high. “I ain’t kissing them.”

Natasha smirks. Bruce covers his grin behind his sleeve.

Out of the corner of Clint’s eyes, Pepper rubs her temples and pops a pill.

*****

The next day, Clint and the rest of the Avengers pile into one of the stuffy conference rooms on the helicarrier because according to Tony, ‘Eye Patch is in the mood to ream their asses’. Which is so, so unfair since Clint wasn’t the one who made out with his boyfriends in front of the press. Why the hell did he need to face Fury’s wrath when he wasn’t the one to out himself to the press?

Much to no one’s surprise, said boyfriends don’t show up.

Fury’s scowl is much more steely than usual when he storms in, slamming a newspaper onto the table.

Emblazoned on the front page is a picture of Tony flipping the camera as Steve and Thor make out in the background. Avengers: Gay Orgy?!, its heading screams.

“Is there something you people wanna tell me?” Fury begins icily.

“There is no orgy going on between the six of us,” Natasha immediately answers.

“Or five,” Bruce adds.

Clint nods his head, gesturing towards the newspaper. “Yup, yup. The only Avengers having an orgy are them.”

Fury raises an eyebrow. “And what the hell do you call this, then?”

“A threesome,” Natasha replies.

Clint frowns at her. “But that’s not even a threesome. They weren’t even having sex.”

“Threesome could mean three people as a group,” Bruce offers.

“Ah.”

“Speaking of threesomes, where the hell are Stark and—”

A resounding crash cuts Fury off, jolting everyone in their seats.

Everyone hustles out and makes a beeline for the conference room next door. Clint gets into position, readying himself to let his arrow fly.

He expects AIM beekeepers, HYDRA goons, or even Doombots. Instead, they’re greeted by the sight of the conference table cracked, the room in disarray, and the other half of the Avengers in a tangle of limbs.

Tony has sandwiched himself between his boyfriends as he sucks the soul out of Steve. Next to them, Thor glances up at Clint and the rest, beaming and flashing them a thumbs-up before Tony drags him into a kiss.

Clint’s going to need bleach for his eyes when he gets home.

“Are you sure the squid didn’t spray them with sex pollen or something?” he begins tentatively.

“Nope,” Bruce replies. “We got checked over, remember?”

“Twice,” Natasha adds.

Steve has the decency to look ashamed when he catches sight of them. He pries his boyfriends apart before jumping to his feet in haste. “Director! I– We were just—”

“Late,” Tony continues for him. “Sorry about that but—”

“We were distracted,” Thor declares.

“I’ll pay for everything,” Tony adds.

Fury looks absolutely murderous.

Clint clasps his hands. “Well! I think it’s safe to say that we all need a break. Or bleach. How about we adjourn this meeting for a while and—”

“Three of you are dismissed. But you three,” Fury jabs his fingers at Steve, Thor, and Tony in turn, “stay. We need to talk.”

Steve’s cheeks darken. Thor puffs his chest. Tony grins lazily. Their hair is disarray, their clothes wrinkled, their lips red and puffy and— Clint is not going to think about that. Nope. Not at all. Not if he wants to sleep at night.

Natasha immediately makes a beeline for the door. Bruce wipes his glasses with his shirt, following after her.

Out of the corner of Clint’s eyes, Fury rubs his temples and pops a pill.

*****

True to his word, Tony ends up paying for all the damages incurred on the helicarrier. All twenty thousand dollars’ worth of damages.

Clint couldn’t look at Conference Room Three the same way ever again.

*****

also on ao3.

#stevethortony #stevetonythor #stevetony #thortony #stevethor #tony stark #steve rogers #thor odinson #steve x tony #steve x tony x thor #steve x thor x tony #thor x tony #steve x thor #*fic

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sunflovverharry · 4 years

Text

Sweet Time

a/n: soo, I took the liberty of changing the pov in the song to be from harry’s perspective instead of the oc’s, but i’m quite happy with how it turned out. i recommend you listen to the song this fic is inspired by while reading as it might give some more depth to what’s going on inside harry’s head than what i already give throughout the story. Thank you for reading and please reblog if you enjoy it xx

This fic is a part of @harrystylescherry playlist fic challenge which i’m super excited to be part of! Remember to read the rest of the entries and show your support <3

Pairing: Harry x OC Delilah Warnings: Angst, fluff, language Word count: 4.7k

It seems bad luck runs through all of Harry’s relationships. The three he’s had that lasted long enough to be considered serious all ended because of the same reason - Harry’s fame. Mixing their jealousy of the women media connected him to; and anger that he couldn’t be with them every time something important happened made him exhausted. His girlfriend was supposed to support him in every way possible, just as he would support them and know that if he could spend more time with her, obviously he wouldn’t be flying to god knows where for who knows how long. It clearly wasn’t enough for his exes to know that if he could, he would, but his life isn’t run only by himself. He has managers and a record label who tells him what to do and when.

Lucie had been ringing his phone for the last hour without any answer and it surely must have pissed her off because the texts she sent after weren’t pleasing to say the least. Harry had been in the studio for a while and his phone had been silenced so he could solely focus while creativity was rolling through him. He had told his girlfriend that he would be unavailable for most of the week with writing and recording as much as possible, but he’d call or text whenever he was free. Thinking she had understood, he didn’t care to text her right before entering the studio to tell her she wouldn’t be able to get a hold of him for a while, but after seeing the texts he thought to himself he should’ve texted her.

“Why the fuck aren’t you answering??” “Harry you better answer your fucking phone this instance or we’re over!” “Seriously Harry what is more important than me, your girlfriend!!” “Are you with another woman???? ANSWER ME YOU FUCKING DICK”

No, it wasn’t the first time Harry had been subject to her angry texts, probably drunk off her ass and having no one else to be mad at. He knew he shouldn’t put up with the way she’s treating him, but when they’re together she acts completely different. She never raises her voice at him or asks who women he’s seen with are. They always enjoy their time together, cuddling on the sofa while watching a movie or going to her parents’ for a Sunday roast. Though she’d never be seen cleaning or cooking, telling Harry that it wasn’t her job to do so when he could have maids and chefs.

Even his mum had told him she wasn’t what he needed in a girlfriend. A snobby, gold digger who has jealousy and anger issues ultimately wasn’t someone he had time for. Those texts were what made him decide that he had to end the relationship now, before it’s too late.

A week later he made it home from Los Angeles and he wasn’t surprised to see Lucie running towards him after hearing the car doors slam outside. She always acted as if nothing happened while he was gone. He couldn’t believe he had wasted almost a year on this girl and before she could get any closer to him he told her they were done. Yes, it sucked to tell someone they weren’t wanted any longer, but it was the right decision in the end and his mum would surely be happy he got rid of her.

A year after breaking up with Lucie, his third girlfriend (who honestly might have been a little too into his fame and money than he realized at the time), he met Delilah. To be honest, Harry had told himself that he wanted to stay single and focus on himself and his upcoming album, but Delilah threw his plans out the window after only a month of dating - or what he called “just friends getting to know each other”. Delilah on the other hand called them dates and could only hope it would expand into something greater than that.

Harry had been sat in the restaurant they were meeting at for half an hour, hoping Delilah wouldn’t be much longer. He was grateful she had texted him to let him know she’d be running later than expected as the traffic was crazy and she had to stay at work an hour longer than anticipated. If she hadn’t let him know, he’s sure he would have cried from the embarrassment.

Not knowing how much longer she’d be, he called his mum. Her voice had always calmed him down and that’s exactly what he needed at this very moment - sitting alone in a restaurant at a table for two in a secluded corner waiting for what might be the prettiest girl he’s laid eyes on.

“Hello my sweetness. How are you?” They got into talking about Harry’s surprise trip home for his sister's birthday in a couple of months. Anne and Harry were planning a surprise birthday party for her and it wasn’t something he’d ever want to miss. After minutes of talking about the surprise and anything else popping up into the conversation, Anne asked what he was doing. It wasn’t that he had hidden the fact that he had a new friend on purpose, but he supposes that he wanted to keep this one private - even from his mum who knows everything going on in his life.

“Just having dinner with a friend who’s running a tad late which is why I called you.” He wasn’t sure he was able to keep the excitement out of his answer. Though Delilah was only a friend and he certainly wasn’t looking for another relationship that would end up breaking, he already liked her more than he probably should.

“Oh, I see. A friend friend perhaps?” Anne snickered, knowing that if she pried long enough, he’d have no choice but to spill. This time it wouldn’t happen though as he saw Delilah walking towards the back of the restaurant and the table where he was seated waiting patiently for her.

“Sorry, mum, my guest has arrived. I’ll call another day, love you.” Harry didn’t hear the ‘love you’ his mum said back to him before pulling his phone from his ear and hanging up. Pocketing his phone while standing up, he smiled at Delilah who looked stressed but beautiful in her very classy outfit paired with some killer heels and Harry didn’t even want to think about how much they hurt her feet.

When they both finally sat down, the chatter never died down and the wine never stopped pouring.

It took a while before she earned Harry’s trust, but it was proof that he did trust her when he invited her over to his house for the first time after five months of dating. She had proved to Harry that she took his privacy seriously and she, too, wanted to keep whatever it was they had going on between only the two of them. Almost as if it was something sacred, and really it was.

Harry had been over for movie nights and dinners at Delilah’s plenty of times, even going as far as staying over a handful of times. She gave him complete reigns of what they did and never pressured him into going out in public and there wasn’t a suspicion (that Harry knew of at least) of why he didn’t want to go any further than light groping and making out before pulling away. When he wanted to talk to her, she would be there for him.

Delilah had her legs thrown over Harry’s thighs and his hands were lightly massaging her feet tired from a long day at work. They had ordered pizza from what Harry called ‘the best pizza place he’s ever been to’ and when Delilah took her first bite she couldn’t help but moan at the explosion of taste in her mouth. It really was the best pizza. This was only her second time hanging out at Harry’s house, only wanting to come when he invited her as to not invite herself into his most private space.

Harry had shot her a message earlier in the day asking her if she’d like to come over after work seeing as it was a Friday and therefore the night didn’t have to end as early as a weeknight. Of course, he didn’t tell her that, but he wanted to have the option open for her to stay the night if he felt comfortable enough by the end of the night to ask her.

Delilah could Harry’s head was spinning in all directions while mindlessly continuing to rub her feet, up to her legs. She could positively say none of her exes had ever given her a foot massage, making Harry look even better in her books (though he didn’t need it, he was already better than any of her expectations and she could only hope she reached his expectations).

“What’s wrong, sweets?” She had taken up the nickname for him after hearing his mum call him something similar, but not wanting to steal her nickname for him. Harry smiled every time she called him that, loving the feeling he got in his stomach from how it sounds coming off of her tongue.

“Just thinking and going in circles round my head.” It didn’t give away anything other than he was stressing or worried about something Delilah had no idea what it could be. Sitting up, she planted a kiss to his cheek before smashing their cheeks together in a tight hug - all she wanted was to be there for him if he wanted to talk, or just sit in silence together. Hopefully he’d have the guts to throw her out if he wanted to be alone.

Harry giggled when she didn’t let up her strong hold around his neck, not nearly enough to choke him, but enough to hold him in place. He turned his head to look at her quickly before melting their lips together in what can only be described as an expressive and intense kiss. Delilah didn’t know what he was trying to express, but it must be something good with the way he’s pulling her onto his lap, their lips never separating more than a second.

“Would you want to stay the night?” He had gone through every pro and con in his head, but Delilah showing him she was there for him without trying to pull anything out of him made up his mind. There was no doubt he wanted her to stay at his place for the night and he’d drive a hard bargain for her to even think about saying no.

There was no need for a bargain though, Delilah nodding her head quickly before pulling him in for another kiss, or two, or three. She wasn’t worried about not having pajamas here or her toothbrush or her trusty face cleanser. None of it mattered even slightly, when all she could think about was how much trust Harry was putting in her. For a minute there she was the happiest she’s ever been and as Harry’s nerves subsided he was the happiest he’s ever been.

The couple went for a short drive to Delilah’s apartment to pick up some essentials, as well as the supermarket to buy ingredients for breakfast in the morning (and new bathroom essentials to keep in his bathroom for times when she would stay the night). By the time they got back to Harry’s, they were ready to hop into bed - a bed she had yet to try out, but was sure would exceed all her expectations.

Harry was tucked into his bed on the side he regularly slept on when Delilah walked out of his ensuite, ready to lay down right next to him. Knowing from the past times they’ve shared her bed that he’s a big cuddler, she was excited to see how much more comfortable and cuddly he’d be in his own bed.

Though Harry felt safe and trusted Delilah enough to share his house with her and have her sleep over, something was still holding him back from asking the big question that they both probably knew should have come earlier. Even his mum was unsure why he hadn’t asked her yet or let her meet the woman he’s spending all his time with.

By the seventh month of dating, she was starting to question herself. If she wasn’t doing anything wrong and he still trusted her, why would he not have asked her to be his girlfriend already? She thought it was pretty clear to everyone that knew about their ‘relationship’ that she wouldn’t say no.

“So, Delilah, how’s it going with Harry?” She was out for drinks with her best girlfriends and the only ones she had told about Harry - except her parents, of course. It was an unwritten rule to not talk about boy trouble or anything of the sort on their nights out, but it was clear Delilah’s head wasn’t in it. Something had to be up with her and the only thing her friends could think of, was Harry.

“We’re good. He’s feeling safe and comfortable with me. We’re going to his mum’s next weekend to relax before he leaves.” Her voice was definite and if her friends didn’t know her they wouldn’t think anything was wrong with their relationship. Delilah spends a lot of time with him and the past month she’s slept over most nights, even on the days she’s had work the next. Harry had cleared out more space for her in his bathroom vanity and closet - which he knew was way larger than what he really needed, but had still managed to fill with no problem.

Delilah sipped on her drink as she went back into her head, thinking about how tonight was just like any other day. Harry will pick her up exactly ten minutes after she calls to tell him the night is over, he’ll hold her thigh on the drive back to his home while she talks his head off about nothing. When they arrive home, they’ll do exactly what they always do when she stays the night - wash their faces together, brush their teeth and while Delilah finds her outfit the next day Harry goes to get a water bottle he always keeps in the fridge that they will share throughout the night. It’s become routine and the domesticity around it makes Delilah’s heart flutter.

“Have you had the talk about going official? Becoming boyfriend and girlfriend? I thought maybe he’d asked by now with how you’ve been. I mean, you basically live there by now.” Lyla tried to pull out the thoughts swirling around Delilah’s head without being too invasive if she really didn’t want to talk about it.

“I don’t know honestly, I think we’re doing great and I’m so happy with him. I don’t want to force him if he isn’t ready, but it’s been seven months and he hasn’t said anything about making it official no matter how much it feels like it already is. I can’t imagine he doesn’t feel the same. It’s pretty obvious what we’re doing is exactly how it’s like being in a serious relationship.” She braced herself and let it all out - all her thoughts about not making it official yet or how domestic their relationship has become over the past couple months. She would be indescribably sad if Harry wasn’t to actually feel like she thinks he does and that might be the reason why she hasn’t had the guts to be the one to initiate the conversation.

The next couple of weeks went by smoothly for the pair. With Harry being gone for most of it, she had a lot of time for herself to go through her feelings and get the chance to figure things out. She tried to hide her - what felt like crushed - feelings from Harry, not wanting him to pry for her to open up and ruin everything. She agreed with herself that if they had to do things slower than normal because Harry needed the time to get there, then that would be okay as long as he actually would get there one day. There was also no way she could leave the man behind just because he’s been hurt in the past and is now - overly - precautious. The very least she could do to save what they had was to try and help him realize that she wasn’t going anywhere and didn’t want anything but the best for him, and she wanted to be the best.

Delilah came home from work to Harry cooking a storm in the kitchen late one afternoon after he came back to London. It wasn’t that she didn’t know he could cook that surprised her, no, he was always making them dinner - with or without Delilah’s help. What did surprise her though, was the romantic set up in the living room that she had never seen before.

Harry was in deep concentration standing over the stovetop where he had vegetables boiling, along with the chicken he’s grilling. It’s getting close to done when he heard his front door open and he didn’t bother turning around, knowing it could only be one person - Delilah. The girl he’d been obsessed with for the past eight months. But, fuck, he was terrified of getting infatuated with someone again, only having been burnt by it in the end previously.

There was something so raw and new with this one, though, such a breath of fresh air for him. It was like he was supposed to go through those bad relationships to end up here - with the perfect fit for him. She never took it to heart when he couldn’t be there for some things, having to leave the country for weeks at a time, but encouraged him to go, have fun, text me when you land. The first time she told him so, he was speechless and couldn’t move his feet for seconds before he got back to earth.

The first time he slept over at her place was pivotal for him and him realizing where this could go, and that was over six months ago. He had told himself to take it slow, enjoy the moment and not do anything because he felt it was the right time. The right time was usually never right in the end because he still wasn’t ready. If he were to lead a relationship with Delilah it would have to be on his terms, mostly because he didn’t want this one to go wrong. This potential relationship with the girl of his dreams was something he needed to get right. If that meant waiting a little longer to make it official, move in together or start a family - now he’s really thinking far into the future - then he would do so because he knew in the end it would save them both from heartbreak.

Ever since him and Delilah got closer his mum saw a change in him, though the insecurities and unease he had from former relationships were still haunting him. The first time he voluntarily spoke to his mum about her, she told him to follow his heart and only time could tell if she was the one for him. The last time he spoke about her, Anne told him he had to do something, because even though they act as if they’re together, she doesn’t have the security blanket of love that she needs to stay with him. That really set fire to his plans - knowing he had to do something about it before it was too late.

Therefore he ended up deciding on making her dinner and putting in effort to show his romantic side that she hasn’t seen a lot of was the way to go. He wanted to go all out for her to show that this is what he wants and he feels safe and secure enough in himself and them as a couple to make it official. It’s what he craved.

He heard Delilah’s feet softly moving on the hardwood flooring to get from the entry to the kitchen. He also knew she had smelt his cooking and seen the rose petals, candles and blankets scattered all over the living room. There was no doubt she was suspicious over the reason for his doings, but at the same time she held back and waited for Harry to make the first step.

“Hi lovey, dinner is almost ready. You want to change into something comfy before we eat?” Harry only turned around for a single second to try and see if her face could tell him anything about how she’s feeling.

“Smells delicious. Be back in a tick, sweets.” The grin creeping out from his lips couldn’t be stopped after hearing her call him his favorite nickname. He hopes it means she’s happy with him. While Delilah changes upstairs in their - pretty much - shared closet, Harry dishes up the plates and finds her favorite red wine to drink with the meal. Right as he finishes putting everything in its place, she descends from the staircase and Harry finally takes a moment to admire her. He finds her beautiful in a pair of leggings and one of Harry’s hoodies she decided to steal. Before getting completely lost in her beauty, he coughs and reaches his hand out to tell her to come sit with him on the floor in front of the sofa.

Harry wanted to wait until they had finished their meal to bring their relationship up, hoping to enjoy their little impromptu - on her end at least - date night before getting serious. Delilah was smiling and wouldn’t stop gushing over his surprise making him feel better about what was to come. He was sure she would say yes, but the little doubt he had left in him wouldn’t go away until he got his answer and knew for sure.

Later in the evening, they were still sitting on the floor, talking about their days and upcoming events. Harry’s hand was running along her legs thrown over his lap and hers were holding the wine glass recently filled up again when he felt the need to get everything off his chest.

“Darling. I know I’ve taken things slow with you, slower than we both probably wanted, but I hope you know I haven’t been stringing you along for nothing. Tonight I wanted to show you how much you mean to me and how much I’ve grown to care for you. I hope you knew that anyway.” Harry was smiling at her while coming clean with all his thoughts and feelings.

“I’ve loved the naturalness of how we’ve moved through our friendship. Nothing with you has ever felt forced or uncomfortable, maybe because you let me take my time and have control over what I can. I can’t tell you how much that has meant to me and I want you to know that it hasn’t gone unnoticed. The domesticity around us feels so easy and I hope that doesn’t ever change. Because we’ve been acting as if we’re together, it kind of slipped my mind that we’re not, but tonight I wanted to ask you, finally, if you want to make it official and be mine?”

After making it official, there was nothing holding them back from each other. They were together as much as their lives allowed them to be and Delilah even surprised Harry by going to his first show on tour in Los Angeles. He thought she didn’t get the time off of work to be able to come, but Delilah knew he wouldn’t be upset with her lying about it when in the end it would make him happy. They had been official for six months at the time and were practically inseparable. Neither of them knew how they would do with the distance over a longer period of time compared to the two to three weeks he was usually gone for before coming home. Sure in themselves and what they had, they knew they’d get through this, too.

Delilah hadn’t gotten the chance to surprise Harry much over the past year since she got to know Harry, unlike how he had managed to surprise her quite a few times. They were often small, but thought out and always showed her how much he appreciated her. For the longest time; she had been thinking about how she could surprise him without him finding out - and her chance came landing right into her hands with him going on tour. She called Jeff the minute she thought of it, the day after Harry asking her if she would be able to come out for a couple of days during his tour, preferably the first show.

Jeff and Delilah had managed to keep the secret from Harry for over a month with Jeff buying her a plane ticket for the day his first show was. She got picked up by a driver at the airport and drove straight to the Forum to catch him on stage singing his heart out. Though she was only able to see him for the last fifteen minutes of his first show, it was exactly what she imagined - Harry dancing around the stage, singing to a crowd so loud she thought her ears might lose hearing.

Right before Harry was set to come off stage, Delilah was guided through the backstage area to Harry’s dressing room where he would finally see her and hopefully get surprised. She was sitting on the black leather sofa with her hands fiddling in her lap as she waited the short while. It was clear he was getting closer as the loud screams got quieter. Excitement, nervousness, happiness, restlessness. They were all feelings running through her, the anxiety easier to feel when she finally heard his laughter moving through the hallways and she knew he was only meters away from her.

Only seconds later she saw the door handle jiggle before the door opened just a crack as he was still standing in the hallway talking to someone Delilah couldn’t quite distinguish. Finally, he pushed the door further open and he was turning toward her, no idea someone would be waiting for him, nevertheless, his girlfriend he thought was stuck at work back in London. His eyes landed on her and for a while, he just stood in front of her still in the doorway thinking he was seeing things. When he understood that she was actually sitting in front of him his eyes couldn’t help but glaze over while shutting the door - he wanted this moment to be between him and his girl, no one else. Harry practically ran toward her, thinking he couldn’t get to her fast enough, and Delilah just about managed to stand up before he threw himself at her.

For a long time they stood on his dressing room floor, Harry’s arms around her neck and Delilah’s around his waist as they held each other close. Both of them had tears rolling down their cheeks, not from the three weeks they had been away from each other, but the sentiment of her actions. All the small things she had done for him since day one, waiting for him to feel comfortable and ready to dive into what they hoped would be a future together, always asking before doing something he might not be okay with, being too kind and gentle with him, always, and lastly her surprising him on tour. Something suddenly clicked in his head as he smelled her cherry blossom perfume he loved so much - this was it; Delilah was it for him, it was she he had been waiting for to come into his life after going through too many shitty relationships and breakups. There was no way he would let this one go when she understands him and loves him for everything he is (though they hadn’t said that yet - Delilah being afraid to scare him away and Harry wanting to wait until one day it slipped and came naturally).

Delilah, too, felt the same. She knew he was it for her - showering her with the affection and tenderness she needed from someone she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. They were perfect together and if taking it slow was the way to go with Harry then she would continue to do so forever, making sure he is always comfortable and safe with her.

Thank you for reading, will hopefully be back with another chapter of my fwb series soon <3

#playlistficchallenge #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x oc #harry styles au #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut

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multifandom-girlie · 4 years

Text

𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐜 𝐂𝐨𝐧 𝟐𝟎𝟏𝟓

Imagine: “Could I request a Daniel Gillies smut like they are both at the comic con(they are both in the originals) and he is teasing her while he answers a question ? Or makes fun with Joseph and he says some dirty things.” Requested by @elijahspersonalwifeyyy .

Pairing: Daniel Gillies x Reader

Warnings: Smut

Words:

Edited: Yes

A/N: I apologise @elijahspersonalwifeyyy for the incredibly long wait. I’ve had this lined up to post but with coursework and writing so much at the same time, it’s made it difficult but I refuse to quit. I’m not a quitter. I’m also not a person to announce a hiatus. Either way, hope you enjoyed ! There is a lot to read I know but we needed a build up and this is one of my favourite comic cons ever, I wanted to do the before hand scenes either way so. Don’t forget to check out my new story “On The Way” !

All of us at the current moment in time were stood backstage waiting to be called on. I couldn't tell you how irritated I was when I went on after Joseph and then Daniel followed. They were both irritating enough to me together anyway but they were in a particularly annoying mood today and I was not prepared for it.

“The man who will break your heart and then rip it out and then probably eat it. Joseph Morgan.”

The whole audience cheered as he walked on and he waved quite casually as he did.

“The women who brings all men to there knees but still can't find anything better to do than drink wine. Y/N Y/L/N”

I giggled as I walked out and I saw the audience screaming and Joseph giving me a mischievous look.

“The brother with a suit for every occasion. Daniel Gillies as Elijah.”

He walked out, threw me a quick smirk and blew a kiss to the audience as they screamed. He pulled his chair out and smiled at everyone.

“Nice jacket.”

“Yeah. Give it up for this jacket ! Huh ? Out of a suit and into a smoking hot jacket.”

“I know right, the one time he's not wearing a suit.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift from Y/N.”

“Aw that’s super sweet Y/N.”

“Thank you. It was actually a gift for our anniversary.”

“Really ? How many years ?”

“Seven.”

“and very sweet.”

He called the rest of our costars out and we continued on with the panel.

After the host had started the panel with a question for Julie and Michael, it was now a group question for me, Joseph and Phoebe.

“Uh now going to the show, we've seen Klaus and Lily and Klaus and Hayley kind of trying the uh co-parenting thing and it did not really go so well as we all saw. How is Klaus going to be as a parent now that Hayley isn't around and Lily and Elijah have reconciled ?”

As soon as the question was asked, we all turned to Joseph.

“Uh you know, before he alienated his whole family by toasting Elijah's girlfriend, sleeping with his wife and and and cursing the women he thought he was in love with um Klaus survived under this sort of umbrella of Elijah's protection and forgiveness I suppose and so Elijah was always a voice of reason and Hayley was always there to battle it out with him. So, I would say badly. He's gonna do badly as a single parent you know and I think he knows he's kinda messing it up but he's trying. At least he's trying. You gotta give him that. Even if he's warping the minds of his two daughters, one before she's even uttered a syllable and the other before she get's old enough to realise that Klaus and Lily aren't actually together you know like she’s thought for years.”

“Geez. So uh how are are Lily, Elijah and Klaus going to tell her ? Who's going to be the one that does it or will they all do it together ?”

I decided to answer this questions, being more involved with the story line of my children.

“I think that Lily will have to be the one to tell her and whilst doing so will definitely have to be quite cautious when telling Sofia, you know not only because she's only 7 years old but also because she’s thought of Elijah as her Uncle her whole life- and although that hasn't changed it's still going to be difficult since this latest revelation is that, her Uncle Elijah that she adores oh so much is now also 'mommy's boyfriend' or in more formal terms her step-dad. So I think she's going to be confused and it might be quite difficult for her at first but I think she’s mature for her age and that she will understand quite quickly that, Mommy and Daddy aren't together and that despite realizing that her mom was married to her uncle I think she will quickly appreciate the fact we told her because of her understanding personality. “

Daniel quickly leaned forward and spoke before the host could ask another question.

“The moral of the story is, don't sleep with your husband's brother. Especially when not using protection and then deciding to get back together with your husband before trying to force him to sign the divorce papers.”

The whole room suddenly echoed with loud laughter and I couldn't stop giggling myself despite being offended for my character. I hit his arm playfully. He grinned at me and rested his hand on my leg as the room calmed down and he slouched back in his chair a little.

“Very true. So, I mean he can always just compel a few dozen nannies but he does have Elijah there to help him co-parent you know not just with Sofia but with Hope. I'm thinking like shared schedules, late night feedings...Whose doing what ?”

“It’s like we both wake up and the baby is crying and it's like, are you going to get her or am I ? Alright, I'll get her.”

“Yeah no it's gonna be me. I'm gonna do the graveyard shift, I know that all to well. But we gotta remember too, Lily and Freya are going to be doing a large share of the work.”

“Oh yeah, they can do it. There you go.”

I giggled and hit Joseph in the shoulder for the comment.

“Sexist.”

“No, come on. Lily's already been through this twice she knows’ what she's doing and Freya's Switzerland at this moment in time, I think for both of us to be in there...I’m gonna stop talking.”

We all chuckled at Daniel's comment.

“Now we're going to go to audience questions in just a little bit but first I wanted to do something fun. I know it's not the holiday's and I know we don't have a big ass bonfire in front of us but I thought it would be quite fun if everybody kinda thinks about a wish for their character for the future, just throw it in the imaginary bonfire.”

“Well, I'm a human....so I just want to stay alive.”

“Good answer.”

“Oh I forgot you weren't a character.”

“I have wishes for everybody but I don't have a character.”

“I do wish for Julie that Supernatural Judge Judy becomes her next spin off and Exploding Ovaries is the title of Daniel Gillies' next memoir.

“A wish for Hayley would be that Hope can live a normal, happy existence. I think would be what she would want the most.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Thank you. That's it, I'm done.”

“Uh, I think for Elijah...I mean other than wishing that his girlfriend's wouldn't be incinerated or his wife doesn't sleep with his brother again...”

I giggled at Daniel's comment, despite his comment towards my character and spoke with Joseph, simultaneously.

“Oh, come on.”

“I'm not letting that one go easily. So, uh...I would wish for him. Oh man. I wish for him, I’m actually wishing for something dark, like I sort of would wish for...a great division between the brothers before reconciliation.”

“So that's how it's going to be.”

“So, my wish for Lily is um...to finally find that bloody fertility spell that she's been looking for, for centuries. So that her and Elijah can have children of their own which they want more than anything and move somewhere outside of New Orleans in a nice family home, away from the drama.”

“That’s very sweet.”

“Uh, I wish everyone would just do what Klaus says because he's always right. He knows what he's doing. It's for the greater good. Come on. Get on board with his plans. Everything will be alright in the end. Not everyone will be alright in the end but everything will be alright in the end. Right ?”

“Um, I wish Marcel would cross over. No.”

“I wish for more of your cleavage.”

I couldn't help but laugh a little when he says comments like that. Even though it wasn't directed at me, I knew the double meaning behind it. Daniel has not taken his eyes away from my chest today. That's what breast feeding does to you, I suppose. When Daniel picked my outfit this morning, I was glad. I was going to wear some leather pants and a red blouse with some heels but he somehow convinced me to wear a dress. God was I glad, I actually listened to him. It was hot in San Diego summer heat and I underestimated a little when I decided on leather pants.

“Yeah. We gonna get some dollar bills. Let's see some ones. Tryna make some money out here. Somebody, put on some Usher. Slow jam. Uh yeah...”

“I have a twenty. What can we get for a twenty ?”

“Break it up. Break it up.”

“Make it into ones and let's make it rain.”

“If I throw loose change at you, can I make it hail ?”

“Alright, moving on. Next subject.”

“Um, Davina is a witch and I think it would be really cool if she could fly. So, whether it's a broomstick or something else...I still think it would be really cool.”

“That’s a good one. Um, mines pretty selfish. I hate shaving, so I wish we could work something in so Vincent could have like a huge beard.”

“I changed my mind, I want superpowers as well. Three one foot long, retractable adamantine claws from each hand please.”

”Why is the camera on me ? I wanna fly. I wanna see these guys fly. I want them charging up walls and...we don’t have the budget for that. I wanna see more vampirey stuff. Why am I wishing again ? I exhausted my wish.”

“You guys can make as many wishes as you want. This is your made up tradition.”

“It’s raining wishes on you.”

“Raining for your wishes.”

“God this is embarrassing.”

“T it up.”

“T what up ?”

“What do your need for a rain of wishes ?”

“What happens when it rains ?”

“An umbrella.”

“What ?”

“An umbrella, sweetheart.”

He closed his eye in frustration and dropped his upper half into my lap, whilst we all laughed at his slow mind.

“Oh shit. Umbrella. So sorry, so sorry.”

“The rain, the umbrella...”

“Dropping hints. Awesome, alright well let’s turn it over to some audience questions.”

“Hi, my name is Julia and first I'd like to say, I love you all. Especially Joseph Morgan and Danielle Campbell.”

“Thanks. Thanks a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I love you Daniel.”

He squeezes my thigh and leans in to kiss my head. Before deciding to move his arm around my shoulders and hugging me into his side. I rested my hand on his thigh as I hugged him back.

“I love you too, beautiful.”

I blushed and smiled, whilst the audience all awed. Which prompted the red in my cheeks to darken. I sat back up straight and he returned his hand back my thigh, yet this time a little higher up and whilst stroking the fabric of my dress up my thigh.

“My question is for the whole cast and it is, if you were able to play another role...who would you wanna play ?”

“On our show ? Or just in general ?”

“Yeah. On The Originals.”

“I..I think I would choose Hayley. The Hyrbid female. She's a pretty cool character. Your welcome.”

“Um, I would play...Klaus. Mind you probably better but...”

“I don't wanna play anybody else, I wanna play Elijah.”

“I would play, Elijah....purely because it would be an absolute blessing to wake up that hot everyday and he's a pretty awesome character.”

He smirked at me and moved his hand further up my leg, his fingers now resting at the hem of my white lace thong. I gulped a little but held my composure. It seemed hat every time I complimented him, he got further up my leg and closer to my core. Like a game...and I was more than happy to play.

“If...If I had to absolutely play someone else uh, I would play Oliver because I just think he needs to be brought back to the show...and uh #saveollie. Bring him back !”

“Uh, I would play Elijah because I think I look damn good in a suit.”

“Yeah, you do.”

“Buttoned up to the naval.”

“There we go. I know it's distracting for you, my body.”

“I cannot concentrate. I refuse to continue.”

“Um, I would play Genevieve. I thought she was a really cool character. She was a lot of fun to work with.”

“I see some Genevieve fans in the house, awesome.”

“Um, yeah I think I might choose Elijah too. I think uh, it's a really cool character that Daniel has created.”

“They both quietly believe they can bring more to the role, is what they’re saying. Not quietly, they're saying it to an audience of like three thousand.”

“Only because of what you've done with it Daniel.”

“Hi Guys, wow that's loud. I'm so sorry, my name's Marissa. First, I want to say Daniel I watched saving hope and your death killed me. I'm so sorry that you died.”

“Yeah, tell me about it ! I was gutted.”

He squeezed my thigh a little more and started making circles with his finger on the spot closed to my core.

“Oh my goodness.”

Yeah, oh my goodness indeed. He really knew how to make a woman feel good, without hardly doing anything...quite literally.

“Um, so my question is for Julie and Michael. Um, I was wondering...there’s so much violence on the show and so much adult stuff and I was wondering if the network or the studio has ever told you, 'No you can't do that’ ?”

We all started laughing in reply to the questions.

“Oh, we have a story about that don't we...Leah.”

“I don't wanna tell the story again.”

“There's things that we did that couldn't be shown.”

“So here's the thing about broadcast television is that, apparently you can decapitate someone, you can drive a knife into a vampires skull, you can rip out their heart, you can shove a pencil up their nose, you can stab them a million times with glass but when stimulating a sex scene...if there's any movement at all that one would define as thrusting...”

“No thrusting. Pull back on the thrusting.”

“A motion that originates from the hip.”

Charles decided to get up and share a demonstration of thrusting and everyone on stage started laughing and the audience started to scream. Daniel gripped my thigh a little harder, due to jealously. I didn't have to ask him what the reason was, I already knew. At the best of times, he was not a jealous person. He loves and trusts me and Charles a lot and he knows nothing would happen but when he's horny and in need of some attention...he does get jealous. Understandably so, I know because we both do. His pinky finger then started to stroke me, through the lace of my pants.

“It’s difficult because I don't actually remember thrusting being in the script. That was something the actors chose.”

“It was a creative choice. I mean, look at Charles...you would do the same thing. Also, let's not forget the originators of this little problem.”

The audience stayed silent, indicating that they weren't sure how to react to her last sentence. I leaned into Daniel and rested my forehead against his bicep in retaliation to Leah's comment. I couldn't stop giggling, despite the finger rubbing against my wet thong and the blush rising on my cheeks. Daniel was using his other hand to pinch his forehead, whilst chuckling.

“Come on guys, explain it.”

“So, what happened was we were doing the flashback sex scene of Elijah and Lily's wedding night. Daniel got a bit too excited and started to thrust a little and I tried hiding it by opening my legs a bit more.As I did, my underwear snapped because it wasn't as flexible as I thought. So, I had to pay a fine for showing too much skin because the sheets had come off of me a little and we hadn't realised. Not that it was much it was just a little side boob, still.”

“So, it wasn't the thrusting ?”

“No, ironically it wasn't.”

“Let me tell you. There was some excellent, simulated thrusting in those scenes. That was cut, per broadcast standards. While, I think in the same episode seventeen people got brutally massacred. It is what it is.”

“Some of the best thrusting. I hope it makes the special features.”

“Charles called Leah, for some extra rehearsal before hand.”

“Hi I'm uh Skylar. Um, I know that between you there has been a myriad of different supernatural creatures. Uh, Phoebe...I think you've been a werewolf, a witch and a mermaid. Uh, in really life...What would you wanna be ?”

“Well, I would say witches because witches don't have to turn on a full moon and they don't have to be like plagued by vampire...the demon’s of vampires. They can just have all the power and really cute outfits...and if I can look more like Danielle Campbell. I'll take it.”

“H20 rocks!”

“Thank you ! Well actually I-Im gonna say a mermaid then. Like, life is better under the sea and I think I would be a mermaid.”

“I don't know-"

“Merman ?”

“Merman. No, I...um. I'm pretty pervy...so I'd say like invisibility.”

“Um, so I'm not pervy at all unlike Daniel. I do think that Heretics are soooo cool though. Like, they can do magic and they are vampires but still have all those human capabilities...like procreation. So, yeah a heretic.”

His hand stopped stroking me through the lace of my panties suddenly and I instantaneously felt a cold gush of air race up my well-shaved legs and punching me in my core. I felt the frayed edges of my lace tickling my upper thigh, where they shouldn't be. Hinting that my favourite pair of thongs had been snapped. I turned to Daniel and narrowed my eyes at him whilst he just continued the panel, like nothing happened. His hand when back to it’s original position resting on my thigh, clearly in punishment for making a comment about his pervy answer.

“Nah, I'm happy where I am. You know, Hyrbid. Definitely not, invisibility. When I joined the show, I thought I was only gonna be a vampire so I was thrilled when I was a werewolf-vampire. I'm sticking to my guns.”

“I like being the token human. I'm just gonna like stay there. Create more mermen.”

“Season three, season of the mermen.”

“The next spin-off.”

“That would be so cool, let me be a mermaid. I would kill it .”

Joseph put his arm on the back of my chair, looking at me after I made my wish known to be a mermaid.

“You better not cum in the water.”

The entirety of the room ruptured into fits of laughter. Even Daniel, who had now moved his hand closer to my core again. Letting his fingers stroke my entrance. Meanwhile, I continued laughing...ignoring the feeling of my husband’s gentle and sensual touch.

“I’m blushing.”

“Hi, I'm Katie. If you were to go to Comic Con, on the floor. Is there anyone you would dress up as ?”

The first thought that came to mind was pleasing Daniel. If I said him there was no doubt he'd give in. The problem was, was it a risk I was willing to take...at a comic Con in front of three thousand fans and some of my closest friends.

“Daniel Gillies.”

Every one repeated my answer and whilst doing so I was discovering that I was unequivocally correct with my thought process. Sure enough, Daniel plunged his fingers straight into my entrance leaving me to deal with the resounding squeal that ripped from my throat. Causing Daniel to laugh at me, influencing Joseph to join in.

The final question had just been answered by Daniel and I was leaning my head into Daniel's shoulder to help with controlling the moans erupting inside me. The warmth in my stomach has just appeared as quickly as it vanished again, Daniel had stopped and chuckled at my irritated expression. Nevertheless, I got up and shoved my now broken thongs in Daniel's jacket pocket and waved at the fans with a bright smile on my face as we all walked off. We had just got out of the fan's eyesight when a hand delivered a hard slap to my barely covered assume cheek as this dress was so short. I span around and grabbed his wrist before dragging him further backstage, behind a screen next to the dressing rooms.

“What do you think your doing ? Playing around like that during a panel and then not even letting me finish ?!”

I didn't even let him reply as I dragged his face down towards mine and kissed him lustfully. His hands wandered down to my waist and clutched the already tight fabric tighter around me. The other unoccupied hand drove down to my ass and clutched it, allowing the skirt to rise up. Exposing the bare skin of my cheek. I used one of my hands to undo his zipper before pulling his dick out and stroking it. Clearly, he was eager because before I knew it. I was pressed up against the wall, sticking my tongue down his throat and moving myself up and down on his already hard cock. What we hadn't realised that the screen had moved, as Daniel had knocked it with his foot when walking to the wall. He pulled away and smirked at me.

“You told me we wouldn't have public sex after last time.”

“This is the last time Mr Gillies, I'm promising you.”

We smiled at eachother and kept going against the wall. His tip caused some tension when arriving to a depth he hadn’t before but it was a pleasurable one most definitely. The lips of my pussy enveloped his tip and he ran it through my drenched folds before deciding to plunge into me once again. I was about to scream and he knew I wasn’t good at being quiet when he fucks me so good. I clung onto him hoping it would relieve tha ache he’d created by filling me so good. He sat down on a chair that was sat in a chair of the little area backstage. Sitting down, allowed his thrusts to speed up rapidly and his face to rest in between my smooth and nearly covered beasts. He bit my hardened buds through my dress and caused a shive of please to shoot down to my core and promoting me to burst.

I then decided to let go and couldn’t help but let out a gratifying scream for him. I was coming down from my high and the screen pulled back. A man that looked about 40, eyed us disgusted and told us to move it.

“Well atleast I won the deal ?”

“Remember the deal we had ? If I was right about is having sex in public again no matter how much you denied that we wouldn’t. Your were very adamant.#

MASTERLIST

#imagines #the vampire diaries #the originals #to imagine #tvd imagine #tvd #the originals imagines #elijah mikaelson #daniel gillies x reader #daniel gillies has ruined me #daniel gillies smut

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the-goddess-of-mischief-writing · 3 years

Text

Buxom beauty

Oneshot summary; You struggle, as an overweight and taller than average woman, to find the beauty in yourself. However, Loki there to make you understood just how worthy and magnificent you truly are.

Pairing: Loki x reader

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot

Word; 2.900

Warnings; will say triggering themes ( e.x serious self-doubt) even if it may not be the case, maybe som angst

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing

A/N: So a little mid-week surprise everyone! This fic is per request from a user on my AO3 account following their lines of: “Could you possibly do one where reader is tall for a woman but also overweight? She struggles with seeing herself as worthy or beautiful but Loki is tryna make her see herself the way he sees her in his own special way?? Please can you do this?” It started out as a drabble and an hour later it was all of a sudden a whole ass fic. Tbh I’m not even gonna apologise this time.

Your eyes were levelled with the upper edge of the mirror. Although you didn't concentrate on how the top of your head didn't really fit into the reflected image unless you took a few steps back. Instead, your eyes followed the soft curves running along the sharp edges of the mirror.

It was soft. No, you were soft in places which the majority of women perhaps not were. Rather than resemble the figure of the mirror before you, which was slim and narrow. Your body was an even curve all the way from your busts to thighs. Though depending on how you shifted your weight, it could also become uneven. Despite how it looked, some places were more generous than others in exceeding the public image of how you should look.

When you turned to the side, your head stayed twisted towards your figure. Your outline wasn't straight. Nor descending into a slender point of which your feet was the tip. It was like a wave, rising in places and lowering in others. And much like that movement of water, your body didn't have any sharp edges. It was simply soft and natural-looking.

You closed your eyes, turning back to fully face the mirror. However, as you started to walk backwards, you didn't re-open them. Purely because you didn't need to look to know there was no gap between your thighs. Neither how no trained illusion of abs existed as an outline under the shirt you wore. Nor how the fabric covering you followed the curve of your chest rather than fell in drapes.

Not until you had shuffled about a foot and a half backwards, enough so that you knew all of you fit in the length of the mirror, did you open your eyes.

You saw the tiredness in the eyes staring back at you. It was a tiredness of trying to make yourself look another way, tiredness to view yourself as enough. Only if you realised and found yourself in the fact that you wouldn't look any other way and that you didn't always need to be enough, maybe that exhaustion would disappear.

A sigh left you while you closed the dresser door to hide the cursed mirror. It was with the same force as you'd done earlier today when you had shut the locker door in the gym without even putting anything in there, choosing to just head back home instead.

You'd wanted to be there at first. But, discouraged by the little mirror in the changing room and the glances received from the already remarkably trained people working out, you suddenly didn't.

You still contemplated the choice. Because you shouldn't have chickened out so quickly. However, home meant that you only were aware of your own intrusive thought, rather than everyone else's judgement too.

Since this morning, your head had felt heavy with thoughts. Throughout the day, though, it had only gotten worse.

It felt like even though you rested, the little voice telling you you should do something was there. Yet, every time you did something, the other voice, the one telling you to stop trying, also whispered in your ear. This was a day you listened to the second, exemplified by your action of fleeing the gym.

So, ever since returning from the short trip outside, you hadn't done much more than lounge around in the apartment you shared with Loki.

The raven god was, for the moment, on yet another mission with the team. Though he'd told you that he wouldn't be gone for more than three days, you hadn't gotten to know much else of the mission. And despite you felt worried every now or then about the lack of information, it was fine. Because early on in your relationship, Loki said he never would hide anything from you if you asked, but he preferred to keep his work and private life as separate as possible.

You respected and understood that. So most times, you settled with the little pieces of information he willingly gave you. Primarily because you could sense his nerves anyway and know how serious the mission was from that. This time around, however, Loki hadn't been worried about the mission, so neither did you feel like you had a reason you should.

Although now, worried or not, you wished he wasn't away on a mission at all. Instead, at home with you.

You would've made the most out of the day, despite how you felt, if Loki was here. Maybe you would've watched some movies, gone out on a walk, or perhaps cook together. It was mundane activities but still things both of you enjoyed. Now though, the only representation of your mischievous partner was his shirt.

You'd nabbed it from Loki's side of the closet in an attempt to calm yourself down from the scent still lingering in the fabric. Only that it resulted in a critical try.

Because not only did it remind you too much of the warmth and presence of him, which made you miss him even more. It had also become the cause of you suddenly staring in the dresser mirror and becoming ever more conscious about yourself.

You hadn't only thought back on the day while standing there, but also the way his shirt fits you. It didn't hang down to your knees, not even the middle of your thighs. It ended halfway over your bottom, like your own shirt with an inch or two added. Thus, if you hadn't worn any tights, you would've walked around just as exposed as if you had worn one of your own shirts.

Even now, when heading from the living room to the kitchen, you looked down at where the shirt ended. The edge brushed along the very top of your thighs. You tried pulling it down a bit, but the fabric simply inched upwards again, making your brows furrow and lips purse.

That was until you heard something.

Your expression changed so that your eyebrows raised and eyes sought out the front-door from which the sound of a lock opening came from. You hadn't made plans with any friends today. Even if you had, they should've knocked, seeing how none of them had a key to your place.

The second you started to worry that it was a break-in, you saw a silhouette you recognised all too well. It was clad in green and gold. The raven hair that touched the tops of his shoulders, nearly blended in with the darker details of the clothing. You started to move before even registering anything more of Loki.

It was with mere moments to spare you noticed the emerald shimmer surround him and remove the armoured parts of his attire before you crashed into his chest.

A little ouf left the god, as he didn't expect the welcoming he got. But that didn't matter, as your arms encircled his neck instinctively. Unable to do anything else than simply stay put a few steps into the foyer, Loki encircled your waist with his arms, face boring into your neck as yours already had done in his.

"You said you wouldn't be home until tomorrow", you mumbled. Knowing he'd heard what you said from the little kiss he gave the side of your neck.

"Well, you know how my brother is, ever as impatient. Sometimes for the better and other times worse, thankfully this time was not the latter", Loki pulled his head out of the crook in your neck to look at you, consequently making you do the same. "Hopefully, you do not mind?"

"Definitely not", you thought you'd said it casually, but the way the raven-haired god tipped his head inclined you hadn't.

"Something wrong, darling?" You gave him a smile and shook your head as you said 'no' while stepping out of his arms. If you would've guessed, you supposed it was the way you retracted from Loki's touch that gave him more than a feeling that you'd lied.

"If there's something wrong, you can tell me", that he even said this made you understand he was aware that you weren't ok. Nevertheless, you saw the exhaustion in his eyes by being away on a mission with the team. He may have been recruited to the Avengers by his brother, rather unwillingly one may add, on the basis that the god of thunder could keep a watchful eye over his brother that way, though he by now had accepted the fact he wouldn't leave.

Yet simply because of this, or that he was a god, didn't mean Loki didn't get tired from the countless missions he was assigned. And it was because of this, you didn't want to burden him with what had weighed you down this whole day.

"I know, Loki", you turned then, starting to head towards your shared bedroom and the bathroom that connected to it to run a bath. However, you weren't even able to suggest that before a hand shot out and wrapped itself around your wrist.

It was enough to make you glance over your shoulder with a raised brow, but not enough to hurt.

"I can see something isn't right and that you feel like you can't tell me", your lip caught between your teeth at the pleading way the raven-haired god looked at you. Still, you didn't say anything, now concerned he would find your worry silly. "Darling, please".

"I-I... why do you want to know? You must be exhausted, go take a shower, or I can tap up a bath for us", you tried smiling to convince him he should think about himself before considering you. Yet, it seemed Loki was as persistent as you at the moment.

"Not until you tell me what's on your mind", he took a step closer, now tugging lightly at where he held your arm so you would turn to him.

"It's n...".

"Do not tell me it is nothing. If not because I am the god of lies, then because I am your lover", he cut off the half-ass excuse you'd tried to use and continued to look at you with the intent of not letting you escape with anything but the truth said. Despite he didn't know you knew you wouldn't have tried anything again, the last part of his sentence striking a nerve that made you sigh.

"This day has just been bad", you finally said. "I-I... it feels like I just need a break from my thoughts. And I know you probably need one too, regarding how messy those missions can get", the god of mischief's lip tugged upwards slightly at this.

"You, my dear, are a break from everything that ever could weigh me down".

"How can I be that", you snapped, hand tearing away from Loki's grip. You didn't know why you reacted like that all of a sudden, probably because what he said rubbed so wrong against everything you thought about yourself today. But it got even worse when you saw the slightly shocked look painting Loki's features. "There's so many more that could fulfil that", you mumbled under your breath, feeling the burn of embarrassment in your chest as you turned to head down the hall and not face him after your little outburst.

Yet you were stopped, once again, by the god when he spun you around to face him. The previous shock had now turned into a furrow between his brows.

"But I do not want more, darling, I simply want you", on good days, you may have smiled and kissed him for those words. Now you just cringed at them while trying to escape the grasp he still had on your hips.

"How could you?" You finally said when realising he wouldn't let go of you, head falling forwards to look down on the floor. "Just...just look at me compared to every other woman you meet. What do I have that they don't?"

There was a silence then, one that made you shut your eyes. You prepared to feel Loki's hands leave you where they still rested on your body, hot and anchoring, though that was not what happened. He did move, but not to take his hands off of you, nor away from you. Instead, his finger hooked under your chin.

Even though you followed his gentle encouragement to tip your head upwards, you didn't open your eyes despite feeling his gaze on you.

"Please darling, open your eyes", he didn't need to coax you any further. "There those pretty gems are", you hadn't even opened them entirely before Loki said this, instantly making you smile. Nevertheless, as if your thoughts today really didn't want you to feel happy, worthy, of his love, the corners of your mouth tipped downwards when remembering he still hadn't answered your question.

As if sensing, if not plainly seeing, the change, Loki's brows furrowed. You tried holding his gaze but felt you were unable to do so, which in the end, made you avert your eyes.

What you couldn't know was that your display had made Loki realise something did really bother you today and that the topic of the conversation held moments earlier, maybe a reflection of that.

Suddenly you felt how the touch at your left hip disappeared, to be sensed once more when it rested against your cheek. You were unable not turn towards the god of mischief with wide eyes at his gesture. However, as you once more looked at him, you saw nothing of the playfulness that often accompanied him, just a seriousness as he looked at you.

"You asked what you have compared to what others don't", he began, thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. "You have the ability to calm me like no other. You have a beauty incomparable to anyone else. You have my hearth", you felt a flutter in your chest as Loki's hand trailed from your face down to your waist, only to there pull you close to him, simply waiting for your answer.

Yet, for the moment, you were at a loss of words. Not only by what the god of mischief said. But what you realised and was constantly reminded of when being pressed against him. You'd never needed to crane your neck, nor did Loki need to bend down for the matter, to look each other in the eye.

"B-but how can I have all that?" Your voice was small as the question nearly trembled from your lips.

"Midgard is so harsh and stale that it does not care about anything more than looks. One needs to find softness and in order to do that, one needs to look further than the surface. If people simply choose to do that, they would find so many more like you", the flutter travelled further and further from your chest. Slowly like molasses, the doubt dripped off of your bones for butterflies to instead settle on them. But the dark and sticky liquid stubbornly didn't want to withdraw completely.

"Earth may be like that, Loki, but you aren't from here", you began, fingers twitching against the Asgardian attire, his signum, that he still wore. "You've told me how beautiful the eternal world is, so I know your standard of beauty, like so many other things, are so much higher than mine and everyone else's".

"Asgard is filled with beauty", the raven-haired god nodded, a smirk tugging the side of his mouth. For some reason, it made those butterflies feel like they drowned in the molasses. Because what else than far greater memories than what he's created with you could accompany such a gesture? Apparently, something entirely else, you realised as he continued. "Yet you, my darling, wouldn't fit there because your beauty out-shines all of what already exists. And do you know why none can see this? Because no-one can watch the sun for too long before getting burned".

"But you still do you", you stated incredulously. Thus why, if using Loki's own words, would he do something that hurt him. However, being ever the observant person he was, he caught your doubt. Which made him shake his head and chuckle.

"You seem to forget I am a god, no mere human or simple Asgardian", directly after he stated thus, Loki did something that made you squeal, in both surprise and worry.

His arms tightened around your waist and lifted you, high enough your feet dangled off the floor and your face was a few inches above his. You almost panicked, imagining you were too heavy for him, but you didn't find anything that displayed such strain in his face. And then any caution disappeared as he twirled you around.

A giggle fell from your lips as you felt the air around you shift with Loki's action. You felt light when nearly all thoughts from earlier seemingly were flung out of your mind and even stayed away when he gently set you down again. His firm chest still pressed into your soft one.

"Just think about it, darling, you need a god to love you for someone to find your true beauty. Does not that show how worthy of love you are if no other person can stand beside you and call you theirs", your smile didn't die down this time as you gazed at him.

"I suppose I must agree with said god", you didn't get more time to witness his smirk turn into a smile before his head tilted forward and his forehead came to rest against yours.

"You never must, but oh how honoured I would be if you did".

141 notes · View notes

nameless-shrimp · 3 years

Text

SILENCE || CHAPTER THREE

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x F!Deaf!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sexual content.

Notes: okay, finally. chapter three. sorry for the wait. i love gojo satoru. really much. okay, enjoy.

previous chapter.

He ran into you again.

Satoru was patiently waiting outside the gates of the school, wondering where Geto was so that they could both make their way to meet Yaga for whatever mission that they would be assigned to for the day. He sighed, kicking his feet against small pebbles on the sidewalk. He knew that he couldn’t be late for another meeting with Yaga, though he was very moody for some type of pastry.

Then again, knowing who he was, he wasn’t surprised at his sudden cravings. Not bothering to wait for Geto, he decided to make his way to the bakery that was a few blocks away from the school.

As he walked down the sidewalk, he glanced around his school. It really did look like a religious school, though the average human would think that, and then Satoru continued to whistle his thoughts away (ranging from wondering where Geto could be to figuring out the kind of pastry he was craving—so was it chocolate croissants or maybe, a pecan pie today?) despite the stares he’d get from people that would walk past him.

It didn’t take him long to reach the bakery, where Satoru opened the door to find that the bakery wasn’t as busy, most likely because it wasn’t a rush hour kind-of-time.

Not that he was complaining, though.

Satoru took out his phone, deciding to scroll through his past images of him and Geto grabbing dinner the other night. (Half of them were blurry, most likely because Geto was trying to take his phone away before the brisket was gonna burn on the grill).

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we don’t have anyone that knows sign language.”

The voice was audible, and it was the usual old lady that ran the bakery that caught his attention. However, he trailed his eyes up, gazing his attention to the lady he recognized before he minded his own business and he opened up some messages from Yaga-sensei, and as per usual, it had to deal with exorcising grade two curses.

Christ, a lot of this was starting to become tiring; at least, it seemed like a lot of people knew that Satoru was the strongest since everyone began to rely on him.

Someone in front of him left their position in line, so Satoru moved up a bit, scrolling through his phone as usual. He bit his bottom lip, wondering if he should’ve brought some lollipops with him so that he could’ve kept his cravings at bay.

“I appreciate you typing out what your order is on the phone.”

He looked up once again after taking a few steps forward, not minding the person in front of him as he was browsing the pastries. It seemed like the croissants were freshly baked a while ago, as expected from this place—it was the best; donuts sounded like a good option as well too. Sprinkles, icing, or maybe some sort of jelly filled treat. It really made him itch for a sweet, and he felt himself wrinkling his nose at the tasty thought.

“Gojo Satoru!” The old lady perked her voice out loud and Satoru shot a grin, waving at the lady who had her usual pink glasses and a bright smile on her face. It seemed like the person next to Satoru shifted a bit as they were fiddling with their wallet, though it wasn’t Satoru’s business.

“Hey Yuki,” Satoru greeted. “I’m not sure what I’m craving for today.”

“Would you like to try a red bean donut?”

“I’d like something sweeter,” he grinned.

The old woman chuckled, her laugh vibrating a large aura of positive energy—something that Satoru had always admired. “It’s no surprise coming from you. I can even make you a crepe if you want, you know? Chocolate and bananas?”

“Ah,” Satoru held up his phone, checking if Geto had texted him of his whereabouts, but it seemed as if Satoru had no update. He tapped his foot, debating if he should stay for some time to eat.

The person next to Satoru had dropped a couple of dollar bills in the tip jar, earning a welcoming source of gratitude from the lady. However, Satoru’s thoughts were interrupted once the sound of plastic bags had fallen to the floor.

Satoru looked down to see the customer that was next to him bend down to pick up the bags of bagels. He bent down to pick up two bags—it seemed like this person liked cinnamon raisin and plain bagels—and handed them off to them. “Here you go,” he sent off a generous smile.

The person in front of him tensed up and looked up at him, their hood had fallen down to their shoulders.

And—his breath hitched.

He didn’t know why, but it did. He wasn’t expecting to see you here out of all places, and it seemed a bit far out from the neighborhood you saw him at. Though, Satoru shouldn’t question it, because he did run into you at the nearby convenience store.

“Oh, hey,” Satoru knocked some of the confidence back in himself.

You glanced up at him and though you couldn’t see the color that was hidden beneath the black shades that were nearly at the tip of his nose, you could tell that he looked a bit surprised as well too. And Satoru knew that he was. Perhaps that he didn’t expect to come in contact with you but it shouldn’t have mattered anyway, you were nothing but a stranger to him that bumped into him late at night or that you were kind enough to offer him chocolate once before. It wasn’t that big of a deal and Satoru knew better than that, or at least, he thought he did.

He cleared his throat, smirk growing as if confidence had punched his gut and he straightened up his posture. “Nice seeing you here,” and his smirk grew into a cheeky grin.

Satoru’s flirty side was already making its way out and you couldn’t help but feel warm to your cheeks. And there it was; the sight that Satoru admired because it always fed deep into his ego enough to make him have that boisterous and barbaric personality, only because he knew that he was gorgeous and beautiful and handsome and outstanding in his own way. Getting these kinds of reactions were lighting the fire to burn inside him more; that arrogance that everyone was annoyed by yet for some reason, it was a part of Gojo Satoru.

“Yuki,” Satoru called out to the baker behind the counter as he watched you place your bought items in the plastic bag quickly—almost like you were nervous. “I will pay for this one’s orders.”

“How kind of you, sweetheart,” the old lady perked up a genuine smile and Satoru winked at you, where you gazed up at him and came to the realization that he was way too damn tall.

After Satoru had ordered some donuts to eat, he decided to ask you to sit next to him near the large window that had a perfect view of the street on the outside. He rested his chin on the palm of his hand, gazing at the owners walking their dogs and the small Beetle vehicle that was parked outside of the bakery.

Every once in a while, Satoru gazed at you, and you’d be lost in your own head as well, staring out at the world that was outside of the window. He wasn’t sure if you were too nervous to speak to him—and he wasn’t sure where this nervousness came from, but he really wasn’t complaining; after all, he had this kind of effect on women, anyway—due to the fiddling of your fingers on your cup of coffee or the times that you bit your bottom lip, looking hesitant to even face him.

But Satoru couldn’t lie to himself. For some reason, he found himself a bit tense.

And it had to be because you never spoke a word to him after your previous encounters together. That had to be it.

Seriously.

“So,” Satoru broke the silence, tilting his head as he bit into the chocolate glazed donut. This caught your attention as you finally forced yourself to make eye contact with him—or really, you were just staring at black sunglasses, but close enough—and he pursed his lips. “You don’t talk much, do you?”

You shook your head.

“I won’t annoy you with questions about it,” Satoru smiled politely at you before chewing the bite from the donut he took. “So,” he spoke with his mouth full for a moment before swallowing and continuing, “is there any way I can get to know you?”

You bit your bottom lip again and then reached for the phone that you had in your hoodie pocket. You began typing on the phone and then held it up for Satoru to see. His eyes adjusted to the bright screen as he read the text.

'My name is L/N Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. :)'

“Likewise,” Satoru responded, placing his donut down on the plate. “Gojo Satoru. We’ve ran into each other a few times before.”

You nodded.

“So you remember?”

You nodded again.

“At least I don’t look crazy, heh,” he chuckled awkwardly, unsure of how to properly have a conversation with someone that was not open to conversation. Satoru wanted to ask because he was used to having women touch his neck and beg for his attention all over, regardless of who it was—and there would be easy-going conversations here and there to break the ice, somehow.

But with you—clearly, you were different. And Satoru didn’t want to sound basic with that thought in his head. But you were—because you weren’t fucking speaking a word to him.

“Do you mind if I refer to your first name?” Satoru questioned, raising his brows. “You’re welcome to do the same to me—if you ever speak a word to me.”

You nodded, smiling a little bit.

Some progress was being made, at least.

“Y/N, I’m sorry if this offends you but—”

Before he could finish his question, you chuckled out loud, nearly spilling your hot coffee on the table and you waved your hand in front of him, trying to signal him to stop. You held up your pointer finger, informing him to hold it for a minute as you typed on your phone with your free hand quickly. Satoru raised a brow at this, but he knew that you were probably already answering his question—and really, he should’ve known you’d get asked this a lot.

You held your phone up to him.

'It doesn’t. Don’t worry. But I am deaf. I can’t hear.'

“Eh?!” Satoru fell back, completely confused by the text. He pointed at you while throwing his free hand in his tousled white hair. “H-Hold on, so how are you able to hear me?”

You fought back another chuckle before you turned to the side, parting your hair behind your ear where the visible sight of the implants in your ear were noticeable.

Satoru felt dumb. Because—duh, no fucking shit. Of course, hearing aids and cochlear implants existed.

“Oh, right,” Satoru pouted, pursing his lips playfully as he eyed the bakery in front of him. Suddenly, the green couches and the faint string lights were more of an interesting sight to admire—when really, he just felt pretty embarrassed. “My bad.”

You simply kept your smile and waved your hand around.

“So, do you not speak then?”

'I do. I just… don’t like the sound of my voice. I was born deaf.'

“I’m sure you sound cute,” Satoru grinned, completely satisfied with his compliment. And of course, you pushed your lips in a thin line and turned away, trying to hide the faint blush that was growing from your neck to your cheeks. The obvious light pink was a delightful sight for him to see; you didn’t realize it but you were definitely feeding his ego up, and Satoru liked it—a lot. “C’mon. You can talk to me, right?”

You bit your lip again and shook your head shyly.

He squinted his eyes a bit as he took note of your behavior. It seemed like you bit your lip a lot whenever you were in situations that made you timid. Satoru found this cute—or really, he wasn’t going to lie to himself, it was kind of hot. But he couldn’t say that kind of stuff to you, especially with how fragile you looked in front of him.

Satoru felt his phone vibrate and he realized that he received a message from Geto. With one glance, he realized that Geto had finally made it to the outside gates of the school.

He pouted. He wasn’t ready to leave you yet, but for some reason, he was interested in you. Satoru thought that you were someone he could play around with for some time—and yeah, maybe that was the move that he would be going for.

“Hey,” Satoru sighed deeply, pretending to act a bit disappointed—or well, he kind of was in reality, but he made it more dramatic than he really needed to. “Sorry Y/N. My best friend’s waiting for me somewhere. Do you think we can talk again?”

You nodded, smiling at him.

That bright smile of yours was contagious because he found himself smiling as well. It felt genuine, right, and he felt comfortable. Though no words ever came out of your mouth, he felt steady—which was good. It was a great start, actually.

“What’s your phone number? We should meet up more often,” Satoru suggested, a cheeky grin stretched out on his lips.

You exchanged numbers with him and he couldn’t lie to himself. He was thrilled—excited almost, and he wasn’t really sure why. Maybe it was because he scored himself another girl that he could possibly fool around with, but this wasn’t a surprise to Gojo Satoru. With that arrogant personality and beaming azure eyes that captivated the soul of others, he knew that he had it in him to get what he wanted.

Needless to say, the scent of freshly baked croissants never left his nose and for some odd reason, the picture of your smile couldn’t escape his head.

Once Satoru left the bakery, he was met with Geto, who was resting his back against the wall and he eyed his friend cautiously before he huffed a breath with a small smile on his lips. Clearly, he knew. “You got another girl’s number, did you?” Geto questioned.

“You got it.” Satoru snapped his fingers as he put his hands in his uniform pockets. “C’mon. You can’t act surprised.”

“Oh,” his closest friend rolled his eyes, dark hair swaying with the wind. “I’m not.”

“Really now?”

“Really.”

The mission was supposed to be quick and easy, at least that’s what Geto was informed about—and Satoru was informed as well. (But it wasn’t like the white-haired flirt even paid any attention to the messages or lectures that Yaga gives, anyway).

Staring up at the tall building in front of him, Satoru took one glance at his phone and scoffed at the messages from the previous girl he slept with, who was consistently texting him to come back to her place. He wasn’t interested anymore, clearly, and he had stated that numerous times.

Times like these were exhausting for him, but it made Satoru feel uneasy with himself, though he refused to admit it to himself no matter how many times he eyed himself at the mirror, admiring his own reflection but hidden beneath was someone that was afraid to open up about how he felt. And he always cared; it wasn’t like he didn’t—because he always did. It showed from his affectionate gestures with the women he slept with and how he’d always listened to them whenever they vented about their bad days before officially getting the chance to sleep with them.

Maybe he really was an asshole, toying around with their feelings. Yet, was he really? Satoru was lost in his thoughts—once again. The damn whirlwind of thoughts that seeped its way into moments when he needed to pay attention to the present the most, like the murmuring inaudible voice of Geto to his ears or feeling the presence of intense cursed energy coming from the building in front of him.

Geto turned to face his closest friend who was tucking his phone deep in his uniform pockets. “Another girl trying to hit you up again?” Geto asked, raising his brows.

Smirking to himself, almost as if he was the most charming prince, Satoru nodded and stretched out his arms. “Yeah, the last girl I fooled around with,” he explained before staring back at the building with the immense cursed energy that was radiating a few feet from the roof. “But it’s fine. I found someone else I can mess around with for the time being.”

Geto decided to take the first few steps to the building as Satoru followed behind. Geto shook his head and smiled to himself, allowing Satoru to furrow his eyebrows. “Can’t help but break more hearts, huh?”

“It's not my fault they fall for me. You know I always tell them I’m not someone that’s the commitment type,” Satoru scoffed. And Geto knew he was telling the truth too. “Hell, even you know that.”

“I know,” Geto responded. “You’re just something else.”

“What do you mean?” Satoru questioned, suddenly feeling a bit defensive.

“You’re a jujutsu sorcerer,” Geto stopped on his trail and then made a swift turn to face his friend with a serious look glued on his face. “You keep messing around with all these women. I know you don’t want a relationship, and you’re just being you but don’t play with me. Do these women even know that you’re a jujutsu sorcerer? Or, at least, you’re capable of the abilities that you have?”

Satoru didn’t say a word and he only looked away. Of course, Geto would question him, but now was not the time for a lecture. He shook his head and refrained from answering his questions, “we need to exorcise this little shit already,” Satoru groaned, walking forward.

“I’m talking to you,” Geto raised his voice.

“You’re not my parent,” Satoru huffed. “No, they don’t know. None of the girls I’ve been with knew about what I had or what I do or anything about me. I was just there to fuck and leave. I don’t even cuddle them or anything; I tell them these things. I always do.”

“It’s not about you telling them what you are and who you are and what you do,” Geto explained, crossing his arms. Seriously, Satoru couldn’t believe that this discussion was going on. He wanted this to wait for another time, but it seemed as if Geto didn’t have the patience—or rather, his mind was eager to know some things right here and there. “I’m curious. What if there is a time that you fall in love?”

Satoru held back a snort. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

“It won’t. I can’t be in a relationship.”

“Why not?”

“Because—” Satoru groaned loudly, where the noise was audible enough to echo in the abandoned hall of the building that they had walked their way into. “Who would want to date a jujutsu sorcerer?”

“Ouch,” Geto chuckled lightly, placing a palm on his heart. “Are you telling me that I can’t get any action then?”

“You know what I mean,” Satoru shook his head before pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “Unless the girl is a jujutsu sorcerer or can handle her own, then I can’t be in a relationship. Even if she was a sorcerer though, if she can’t be strong, then I don’t want her.”

“There you go, again.”

“What now?”

“Bashing on the weak,” Geto sighed, closing his eyes. “You understand that jujutsu sorcerers are here to help protect those that can’t see the curses or are too weak to exorcise them. But it doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with it, man.”

“Look,” Satoru snapped, letting his frustration show in the tone of his attitude. “I don’t have time to protect and babysit my girlfriend—if I ever have one, okay? I’m sorry. I just—fuck, can we talk later?”

Geto had a smug look on his lips. “Nah, let’s talk about this now.”

“We need to exorcise this little shit or else we won’t hear it from Yaga-sensei.”

“I know, but I find this more interesting.”

“Why you—” Satoru shook his head and then placed both of his palms on his cheeks. He felt his face fall into a flushed state; he knew exactly why he wouldn’t be able to be committed, and part of the reason would be that he was someone that really couldn’t protect the weak forever, let alone the person that he may end up with long enough to call his soulmate.

If that ever happened.

Satoru knew who he was as a person; he wasn’t going to let anyone get in the way of who he was, mostly because he believed he wasn’t capable of being in a relationship. The strongest and the idea of continuously protecting someone who was weaker than him seemed exhausting. It was a selfish thought, though he couldn’t blame himself; he mostly worried about himself rather than worrying and caring for another that wasn’t him.

Despite the obvious selfish thought, Satoru couldn’t find himself to let anyone close to him get in any dangerous situations. Even though he knew that—hypothetically if he did love someone—he wouldn’t let that happen, but he didn’t believe anyone should grave themselves in any bit of danger that the jujutsu sorcery life held, let alone an innocent person.

“Fine,” Geto placed his hands on his shoulders and stretched out his back. He let out a tired yawn before he glanced up at the stairs ahead, where the walls were cracked and the paint was chipped. Clearly, the building had been abandoned for quite some time, and Geto looked at Satoru with a pleasing smile. “But tell me about this new girl you’re trying to mess with.”

“Can it wait?” Satoru whined, portraying a playful pout as he bit his bottom lip that quivered.

“I don’t think so.”

“Man, alright,” Satoru sighed, placing one of his palms on the back of his head. “She’s really cute. She doesn’t talk at all, really—actually, she’s deaf.”

“What now?”

“She can’t hear,” Satoru explained, pointing at his ears and mouthing out words.

Geto looked at him with an irritated stare, clearly, a vein was popping out from his forehead and he huffed, “I know what being deaf means. But how are you even talking to her?”

“She talks on her phone and types out the words,” Satoru explained, scratching his head. “She has these implants or something that she wears and she talked to me about it today.”

“I take it that she doesn’t have many friends?”

“Man, I really don’t know.”

“And you’re gonna fool around with her feelings like that?”

Satoru whined, placing his palms on his flushed forehead. “Can we please talk about this later or something? I don’t wanna hold back on this mission.”

Geto had a smirk grow on his lips. “You actually want to get some business done, hmm?”

“Shut it,” Satoru said as he gritted his teeth.

“Fine, but this conversation isn’t over.”

“Fine.”

At least for now the conversation was over.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru imagines #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #shrimp: fics #shrimp: silence.fic

50 notes · View notes

pollenat · 3 years

Text

ITZY and 5 ways to say I love you

YEJI

Her hands resting on the sides of your head. Fingers caress, rub and play with where face meets hairline. Though Yeji’s small smile is one of soft feelings, you think the feelings inside your stomach possess none of her delicacy. They’re violent, twisting your insides, because the woman in front of you is way too much for your poor heart. And though your own touch isn’t telling, you’re worried she will learn it from a stray line on your skin. Why else would she be taking in the sight of your face with so much attention?

The feeling of being alone in the world, save it for Yeji’s warmth by your side. The night sky is dotted with stars, the forest is overflowing with leaves, animals are singing their evening ballad. You should’ve left a while ago, but lying in a field, just a few meters away from the forest’s edge, doesn’t feel half bad. And you’re here with Yeji, her embracing arm a pleasant reminder she’ll protect you if she has to. After all, it was her idea to stay back so late to enjoy the privacy and the sight of a clean sky.

Everyday objects you find in the pockets of your clothes. They may consist of tissues, old packs of gum, hair ties, or anything, really. What makes them so special, is the fact that each has a memory attached. A memory of Yeji. Whether she’s borrowed a jacket and forgot her lip balm, or lost a ring while hiding her hand in a pocket of your coat. Even the tissue she’s made a comment about – everything has her invisible name attached.

An abandoned teacup. It’s empty, lying on a coffee table filled with junk food. Plastic packages and crumbs mix into disgusting mess. TV plays in the background, characters of some teen movie have just started an unpopular musical number. A foot lies on your thigh. Its owner puts a chip in her mouth, eyes taking in the choreography. You couldn’t be any less interested in cliché songs about the power of friendship, but your better half? She’s that one hobby you can never see yourself giving up on. Yeji trashes in her place, doing her best to escape your tickling fingers, meanwhile laughing like a maniac.

The fact she’s never mad. Just disappointed. Her eyes, instead of endearment, offer you that damned sadness – a pointy arrow at your head, saying it’s all your fault for causing her gloom. If it wasn’t for your presence in her life, none of this would have ever happened. How dare you exist next to her when all you personify is the wrong? How dare you stab and claw at her heart when you were meant to heal and embrace it? And then the allusion that if you had tried, the things would have been better. But you never try, right? You’re the villain, right?

LIA

Face hidden in your neck. Arms tight around your body. Feet tucked in the space between yours. Soft noises of content. Hair basically pushed against your mouth. Despite the overwhelming presence, you feel happy. Your face hides in her hair. Arms lock on her back. You sigh from the very same sense of content. The hair on your tongue doesn’t annoy you. If anything, it brings another reason of enjoyment - the familiar smell of Jisoo’s favorite cosmetics.

Sudden grip on your hand. A look back at her pale face and uncertain eyes that scan your closest surroundings. With the night above and most people asleep, streets feel sinister. The individuals that are out and about bring a sense of danger, like they’re all mad from bloodlust. Like they all have only the devil’s doing in mind. Keeping the thoughts to yourself, you put out a brave front of indifference. If it’s what it takes to bring Jisoo a sense of comfort, you’ll make it a show to be remembered. Maybe even you will be fooled into peace.

A little kiss. Fingertips locked on your chin. Wide smile she adds as a bonus. And just like that, a moment later, she’s gone. You’re watching her back distancing itself from you with a little spring to Jisoo’s step. Are you the reason, or just an effect? Only when she stops and turns around do you realize, that you’re supposed to be accompanying her. But that’s Jisoo to you – so show-stopping you could forget to breathe even with throat tight and itchy. She doesn’t laugh, just smiles, as if she was aware that she, in fact, is the effect.

Hiding beneath a rainbow colored umbrella, with Jisoo stuck close to your side. You promised her a walk, but sneaky rain clouds have decided to make their surprise entrance. The weather forecast was so sure in their predictions of a sunny weather… Never again will you so blindly trust technology. Irritation clear on your face, you take a look to the side at Jisoo. Her head is leaning against your shoulder. Green and yellow clash on her features. Despite the uncomfortable sight of dark locks glued to her cheeks, she’s smiling. You’re not sure what is there to be happy about, but no comment breaks the rhythm of rain.

Read glaring at you from under your last message. It’s been like that for a while now. Every message read, but none answered. The silence is maddening, causing you anger, but no matter how much you want to do something, the compliance from your inner self never comes. Because in reality, Jisoo’s silence hurts as much as it angers. Why are you the only one trying to save a drowning ship? Why does she care so little about the pain her passiveness causes? Why is everything about it so unfair to you only?

RYUJIN

The suddenness of fingers hooking at the edge of your trousers. Their pulling has you turning around in confusion, stopping mid-sentence. Ryujin’s gaze is dark and meaningful. You’re worried she may not be feeling well, but observing her, you notice doubtful gazes she passes a person you were talking to. Nobody to be scared of, not when Ryujin’s herself. But even the warmest of stares you have reserved for her only aren’t enough to calm the storm brewing behind beautiful features.

A word idiot pressing itself at your lips. Of course, in the most lovable tone possible. Even if Ryujin’s “special” jokes are super unfunny and you’re cringing inside, you’re still enjoying them, or rather her own amusement. Does that make sense? Not really. But in the face of romance, logic is a rarity. Watching her as she laughs at herself, you’re reminded of a cold bath during a hot day – awakening, pleasant, somehow wrong, but also so right. Thanks to Ryujin, you can focus on things other than everyday struggles, even if the result has your face twisting in disgust.

Train jumps in its trails, shaking every passenger awake, including you. For a moment, you’re uncertain – what is this place you’re sitting in? A robotic voice announces next station. It’s an obscure name for a village, you don’t remember from the timetable. Have you missed your stop? Terrified, you attempt to sit up straight, but another head weighs you down. Ryujin is somehow still asleep, her cheek resting on your forehead, her hand carelessly abandoned on your lap. Even a loud conversation between two women sitting behind you doesn’t awaken her. And though your neck hurts, you stay in place so she can rest better.

A knock on a doorframe. A break in a train of thoughts. A look up from your phone at Ryujin’s awaiting silhouette. Her small pout is a picture of tiredness only your attention can cure, or at least so she thinks. Questions are answered with shakes of her head, a smile earns a smile in return. Before long, she climbs your lap and pushes you back to lie on bed. Like a pet missing their everyday companion, Ryujin sinks into your embrace. She’s a plush sensation to lean on and trust with your unconscious self. That is, if you manage to fall asleep with her weight crushing your lungs.

Either ignoring you, or staring with ridicule. Ryujin cannot decide on one, maybe because she’s just as conflicted when it comes to feelings. To detest, or to miss? She said the things were over, but how come you’re still in each other’s presence so often? It’s as if you were celestial bodies gravitating towards one another, unable to go alone, because all there is to your being is her. It may sound dramatic, but watching her back, with heart open and bleeding, you feel useless in your existence. You don’t know the now without Ryujin in it, and you don’t want to. So despite all the hurt, you still await her return to your side.

CHAERYEONG

A shy smile that causes you the feeling of warmth inside. A little embarrassed by your own body’s reaction, you try to laugh it off. But Chaeryeong doesn’t know what caused you so much fun. Her hands embrace you from behind, questions are fired as she tries to join your fun. Self-conscious smile looks like a blinking lightbulb. Avoiding her expectant stare, you play with the fingers locked on your abdomen, warmth now not only inside, but also outside.

An evening you spend lying on your back. There’s no motivation to get up and be productive. It’s funny. If anything, your heart’s understanding of productivity is watching Chaeryeong’s asleep profile. Hot air blows at a loose strand of hair, raising it into the air, only for the lock to fall back in its place. You could correct it, yes, but one of your hands is under Chaeryeong, while she weakly grips the other one. Pulling your limbs free would mean the possibility of waking her up. The result? Guilt, because you’d ruin a bubble-like moment that you should’ve taken the most out of. So you decide - the world can wait.

Cold autumnal wind blowing at your cheeks. Ice cold fingers warming themselves up in thin pockets to no use. Ache in your frozen toes, no amount of steps can melt. Finally, pharmacy’s door open. Chaeryeong’s return makes you shift attention to her winning smile. All the happiness because of a lip balm. She doesn’t waste time unpacking it to then spread gloss over her lips. You don’t know why you’re watching the interaction so closely, but it’s a distraction from the cold. She notices, giggles and – huh? – kisses you. To share the lip balm, apparently. Because it’s so cold, apparently. Because she cares about your well-being, clearly.

A snarky remark you can’t help, but laugh at. To others it may sound a little insulting, but you actually have to applaud her for a good one. Sarcastic, but funny – Chaeryeong’s unsure bite on a lower lip widens into a proud smile. She couldn’t help herself and you don’t mind. Still, maybe one day you’ll attack her the same way. Strike with sarcasm she’ll have to laugh at. In the end, all’s fair in love and war. Chaeryeong should see the revenge coming. Once you come up with a genius remark, that is.

Frustrating no’s she won’t stop using against you. As if they weren’t already driving you insane, she adds strong shakes of her head. There’s a no to every word, sigh, groan and wild gesture. Then there’s her posture – closed in on herself, making her appear smaller than she really is, so your resolve may weaken. In a way, it’s a gun pointing at you, forcing into compliance. Hidden behind a mask your knees may feel weak for, but a gun.

YUNA

Freezing in place when the world disappears from your sight. Warm palms cover your eyes, their touch comfortable and delicate. Their owner rests her head on your shoulder. She smells of freshness, best described by the (one would think) unexpected word home. You’re not scared. Surprised, but all fine. Yuna’s laughter joins yours when you take her palms into your own hands. Together, they slide down to rest on your sides.

A sudden look of bewilderment you’re given by friends when you laugh for no obvious reason. They’re not aware you haven’t been listening to them for the past few minutes, too taken by Yuna’s playful faces from across the table. You try to cover the laughter with a fake cough, but nobody’s fooled. They have so many questions to ask, meanwhile Yuna is acting oblivious to the entire scene, avoiding both your gaze and speaking up. Just she waits for the right moment, you’ll have your revenge.

How small she always attempts to be next to you. Doesn’t matter whether you stand higher, or lower than Yuna – she needs to be the one embraced, looked at, appreciated. If you’re not living thanks to her bright shine, who else could be your Sun? If your orbit doesn’t surround her, what’s the point of seeing one another? If gravitation doesn’t pull you towards her, how can she be sure you’re a planet made for her? Yuna needs to be both told and shown that she matters to you, and in case she notices the attention isn’t enough, she’ll be sure to remind you that she is the Sun to your Earth.

Her wild gestures as she attempts explaining her favorite things. Yuna’s arms flail in the air. At one point she’s pointing to her right, at another she has hands clasped on her left. Her eyes widen and close, to prove just how serious the case is. It’s amusing, but you don’t dare a laugh. Not when she’s so eager to share a part of her life with you. Not when she rolls her eyes at some silly thing that’s bothering her so much. Yuna’s hard work is adorable, but admitting aloud how heart-melting instead of heart-clutching she is would create a rift in the moment of happiness, so you let the little lie live.

The distance. As if terrified you may stab her, Yuna stays away. She won’t look you in the eye, answer a simple yes or no question, or even react to your words. As if you were a mare she shouldn’t look at. As if just a glance in your direction could hurt her. In your eyes, Yuna’s childish choice of action is despicable. So much that you don’t even attempt burying the hatchet. To every single act of avoidance, you respond with indifference. Every dejected sigh on her part meets a roll of your eyes. It’s an ongoing war that has no sense for it, other than destruction.

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios

#sorry for taking so long #been really stuck on Yuna here which is weird since she's usually the easiest for me to write #i know some of these scenes are super lacking :(#itzy fanfiction #itzy imagines #itzy scenarios #itzy fluff #itzy angst #kpop fanfiction #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #kpop fluff #kpop angst #girl groups #pollenat's scenarios

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spade-riddles · 3 years

Text

Submission:

Do antis and ex-Kaylors ever stop to think about how their perception of Karlie makes no sense?

We all know Jerklie is fake. But he’s toxic to her reputation now, and she could easily beard for someone else. So why wouldn’t she?

“But she likes Jerk” - I mean, does she? Because she looks dead behind the eyes during their pap walks. She’s been caught on camera arguing with him multiple times (1975 concert, 4th July party, etc) and it’s clear he keeps springing stuff on her she didn’t agree too, and resents. The sheer weirdness of the “wedding” PR rollout attests to that. Just look at her miserable face eating cake on the floor. I’m not exactly feeling the love here. Yeah, she slings her arm around him in a picture, but Taylor used to be just as OTT with the PDA with Calvin, and we all know she hated him. Pictures prove nothing.

“But Jerk is rich and well-connected and that’s why she sticks with him” - oh please. The Kushers are as sham rich as their in-laws. We joke all the time about how crappy Jerk is at business. Karlie is charming and well-connected in her own right. I struggle to believe she couldn’t find better business partners. Maybe she has poor management, but the number one reason for that is her connection to Jerk. Better management won’t touch her while she’s connected to him. They can’t sell this version of her.

The smart move for her career would be to dump him. If she’s so fame hungry and self-centered, why hasn’t she? Are we really supposed to believe Karlie would be selfish and cruel enough to put her career over Taylor … but not over Jerk? How does that even make sense? It doesn’t!

“Karlie toys with Kaylors because we’re the only fans she has left” - does not compute. First because Kaylor fandom is tiny now, and the subset of Kaylors who believe they’re still together (and pay attention to Karlie) is even tinier. It wouldn’t be worth her while to use us for financial gain. Half the Kaylors who even support her on Tumblr have made it clear they won’t be buying from her Adidas line or supporting her other endeavors until she leaves Jerk. There just isn’t any money to be made from us, pure and simple.

“Okay, then Karlie TROLLS Kaylors because she hates us and wants to make us look stupid!” - I mean, looking at the venom we send her way I doubt she loves us anymore. But why would she bother trolling us? It’s so unbelievably petty, and she never seemed to be that. Maybe I have her character all wrong, but even if I do … wouldn’t she get tired of it eventually? All the “trolling” ever does is bring more hate down on her head and reduce the amount of people willing to pay attention to her in future. It’s shooting herself in the foot.

Most of the people who get excited by her hints are the well-intentioned fans who want her to be free and happy. If her relationship with Jerk is fake (as it obviously is) then why would she be so full of hate for fans who only wish her well? You may as well say Taylor stunts with Toe because she “hates” Gaylors and wants to troll us. Why do we always give Taylor the benefit of the doubt and assume there were 1001 pivots on the road to her coming out, but with Karlie, we always assume the worst?

“Kaylor broke up and Karlie is just trying to stay relevant by mining the Taylor connection!” - yeah, I don’t know how to tell you this, but if a tree falls in the forest and only a tiny subset of internet fans notice it, it’s not staying relevant. Karlie wearing a rainbow sweater the day Fearless comes out is only interesting to us. Literally no-one else cares! These kind of obscure hints aren’t going to get her headlines or jobs.

Also, if Karlie really cared that much about using the Taylor thing for fame, there are a million better ways to do it. She could post throwback pics of their “friendship”. She could mention her all the time in interviews. Taylor is in a quiet phase with the media, and NDAs don’t cover EVERYTHING. As long as Karlie didn’t actually lie or expose their relationship as more than a friendship, there are a lot of ways she could have continued to tie herself to Taylor for publicity, and Taylor couldn’t do anything about it. But mostly Karlie hasn’t done that. Instead, she went dark. How does that fit?

Also, if they did break up, there is nothing to stop Karlie coming out. She’s good friends with Cara Delevingne. She could get loads of headlines about Cara “helping her find the courage to come out” or “helping her realize her sexuality”. She could be linked to other famous women. If Karlie was OUT, people would speculate like crazy about her being an ex of Taylor Swift’s, even if NDAs meant she couldn’t talk about it. If publicity was all Karlie wanted, she could have plenty of it. If she came out as bi, she could even go back to bearding later. It hasn’t stopped Julienne Hough, Harry Styles, or a bazillion other Hollywood celebs.

But instead she puts all her energy into presenting this image of herself as super straight. WHY?

You know who really needs Karlie to be straight right now? And to have always been straight, and in love with the same guy the whole time they knew each other?

TAYLOR.

If Karlie is married to Jerk and had “his” baby, then the Jerklie relationship was real all along. That’s what people will think. Kaylors are just a bunch of deluded, intrusive shippers on the internet. TAYLOR needs people to believe this. There is no other woman she can be convincingly linked to right now, and it’s hard for her to stunt with Toe, for a lot of reasons. One is that she picked a British beard and then an international pandemic hit, whoops! Another is that she set up this whole “private love story” idea with him. And anyway, its been four years. If she starts stunting more hardcore with Toe there are only so many stunts left to pull. If Karlie wasn’t “married” to Jerk right now, I GUARANTEE we would be seeing a Toe engagement.

Karlie is doing the heavy lifting for Taylor. It’s obvious to me.

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batfamily14 · 3 years

Text

The Sun Queen

BOBA FETT X BLACK QUEEN!READER

Chapter 2

Rating: explicit

A/N: You were raised to be strong, fierce but when you suddenly come into power with the task of fighting a war and for your people’s freedom becoming queen is more challenging than you imagined. Recruiting a fearsome bounty hunter by your side, it’s up to you to restore your kingdom. Follow your journey to becoming a royal legend and perhaps find love on the way.

You caught yourself thinking...

he may destroy you.

And you know what? That’d be fine.

To be completely disintegrated by all the best parts of him. At least then you’d know what you had was real.

Even if it killed you.

You’re settled in the garden, your crown perch on your head. The thick loth cat cloak you wear stands out against the black gown that slit up both your thighs. It’s you who now caught Boba staring.

Boba.

The name so fitting. As if it were crafted for him, and him only. It wouldn’t make sense if it belonged to anyone else.

You.

He couldn’t help but to look at you. The hunter notices that your skin makes it seem like you were conceived by the night sky, the stars caught in your eyes. Sparkling when you smile. He has been with plenty of women and seen dozens of beautiful girls but when he made love to them or kissed them, it didn’t feel right. When he was a young teen he often wondered what was wrong with him, thinking perhaps he would never be capable of falling in love.

But now, he thought maybe he just didn’t recognize those other girls. When he touched you he recognized you, as if your entire essence was lost to him at some point and now you’re finally his again.

Home.

You’re complete. You’re real. A living and breathing artwork met before his eyes and all he wanted to do was memorize your details. So, then maybe he’d appreciate everything in the universe that was bright, soft, and brown.

And it’d lead him like little boats down aisles floating back to you.

Back home.

~*~

You’re sitting, gazing at your mother’s statue, you squint your face up. You did that when you’re about to cry, he noted. Which you often did when you thought of your mother. He reaches out and touches you, touches you like you’re a rare and universal treasure. Precious. Fragile.

A confronting hand on your shoulder. He did that more often now, his hands becoming an extension of you.

“Little one,” his modulated voice came. The nickname shatters you. Pleasantly breaking under the unmerciful weight of him. “Fett,” you respond, coolly. His finger traces patterns into the skin of your shoulder, another new sensation.“What was her name?” He questions , softy.

“Saphoriae,” you tell him. “ In my language it means “The loved one.” ”

“What does your name mean?”

“Shining light.”

He smiles under his helmet.“How fitting.” The hunter thinks. “It’s perfect, practically designed for you.”

He’s gone back to guarding the garden entrance behind you, blaster to his armored chest. You’re perched on a bench, eyes carefully tracing over him. His body seems as if it's sketched from charcoal like he’s art and art isn’t beautiful, it’s supposed to make you feel something, and every time you see him something blooms in you. It always did. You try to remember how this happened, when you started to wonder why he wasn’t a painted portrait hung everywhere in case the universe forgot he existed once, and that thankfully at the same time you did too. What luck that is. That you could climb up his ribs into his heart if he let you.

You shift in your seat, your hand caressing through your hair. His visor gleams in your direction, his head doing his signature tilt which you found yourself growing slowly fond of. He strides closer, walking with purpose, always moving with a reason. He stops at the edge of the bench next to you. When Boba looks at you, he focuses on you as if you’re the only person in the world. Despite how unimportant the thing you could be babbling about, he makes it seem like you’re telling him the galaxy’s greatest secrets.

Your eyes unintentionally linger on the battered scars of his armor. Dents and scrapes, you cherish them all. The armor is a part of him like an exoskeleton, a shell that you so desperately want to see him crawl out of. Not so that you’d appreciate the real him, the honest him is a bounty hunter too. Just so that you could appreciate every layer of him, peel back every exterior of his being and appreciate each surface.

“What’s on your mind, little one?” He questions. You bat your lashes at him, chewing on your bottom lip.

“Your armor, how did it get like that?” You ask, gesturing to a rather large dent on the side of his helmet. He huffs, “I’m a hunter after all.” He says matter of factly. You roll your eyes to the sky making him let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean...did it hurt?” You inquire.

He sighs dramatically, peering down at you and offers a small shrug. “All a part of the business.” Boba lets you run a shy hand across his chest plate. “I’ve seen you train in the Sparring Hall, I would...watch you.” You confess. You hear the rumbling of another chuckle bubbling up in his throat.

“I know.” He almost teases, and you think you should feel embarrassed but you don’t. If he really didn’t want you to watch him he wouldn’t let you. Boba has a way of disappearing and reappearing whenever he pleased. You awe at him,“The way you fight it’s…”

Breathtaking.

He moves fluidly, as if he was dancing. Every flick of his wrist or thrown kick and punch roll one after another. His build is strong and a bit slender but nevertheless his form showcases all his strength.

“It’s what?” He probes, two fingers smoothly lift your chin up when your eyes shift away, forcing you to look at him.

“It’s...it’s fascinating.” You answer, flush with nervousness.

“Fascinating?”

“Yes...I’ve always wanted to learn.”

“How to fight?”

You nod. “Our warriors have a particular way of battle but you...you’re ruthless. You’re brutal. I like it, the fierceness of you.” Boba chuckles putting away his blaster to cross his arms over his chest, listening. “When you fight,” you continue. “It’s a testimony to your power. I want to fight like you, I need to.”

“Why do you want to fight?” The hunter questions.

“I want to feel what it looks like when you do.”

“And what’s that, girl?”

“Alive.”

~*~

The sparring hall is carved under the kingdom, built firmly with mud brick. Heavy wooden doors open to a sweeping

aged cream colored staircase leading to a platform covered with a blue mat. There’s various weapons draped on the walls. Spears, knives, a hunter’s wet dream. You’ve changed into your mother’s old sparring clothes when she waged in wars. A manogany thicken fabric wraps around your breast and crisscrosses over your stomach and spine securely, a pair of shorts with a pooling fabric hangs in the front and back like a skirt split in half, and leathery strapped sandals lace up your legs and thighs. Your locks are pulled upward with a silk wrap revealing your whole face.

Boba wears grey sweats, and it feels like a violation to see this much of him. As if he’s wholly exposed though his helmet is still on. Boba’s body is lean and muscular, his skin tan, littered with scars like his armor. But still...art nevertheless just greatly more detailed now. You find it strange, almost comical actually. At first he wasn’t your anything, a guard if you had acknowledged him in the least, always looming behind. A second shadow. But, now he's undeniable and suffocating, he’s like…

fire.

It’s always fire with Boba, burning inside you. You’re surprised him touching you hasn’t completely disintegrated you yet. You used to go all night without thinking about him, place him far enough in the back of your brain so you could survive eight hours. But, being without him is like not breathing, even in your mind. So, waking up in the morning and seeing him bathed in the sunlight is as if taking your first breath after an eternity of drowning.

It’s a desperate gasp from the loss of him.

“Let’s start with something simple.” He says. “A punch.”

You nod focusing on him and he directs with his hand to back up. “I’m going to teach you primary types of punches, first a jab.”

Boba demonstrates a series of jabs, arms moving in a blur. You can hear the wind whipping with the force of it.

He’s strong, grateful, ruthless. He’s advised to watch his form, observe his steady movements. “When it’s a decent fighter,” he begins. “they won’t be easy to read. They’ll move their arm from the place where it is right forward , so you need to have a quick reaction time and defense saved in your muscle memory to react to it automatically. You understand?” You nod and he circles around you talking. “You won’t be able to tell which arm will strike first. So, when your punch lands, your arms should be close to fully extended, extending your striking range and improving your punching power.” He demonstrates again by throwing a quick punch that breezes pass your face and you flinch away.

“Land the punch with your index and middle fingers, with your fist rotated so that your thumb points downward on impact. Power is transferred better there, and you're less likely to break your hand.” You lower yourself into stance, but your form is all wrong so he comes up behind, his hands on your hips. “Relax your upper body and use speed instead of strength.” You let him correct your stance and he knees your thigh making you slide your feet further apart . “Rotate your body and be sure not to lean forward. And most importantly...” he trails off and you hear the smile in his voice. The sound of it makes you shudder like his breaths prickle your neck. “...protect that pretty face.” You nervously adjust your footing, squaring your feet just below your shoulders.

You throw a sloppy jab that makes the hunter grunt under his helmet. “Were you even paying attention?”

You grumble under your breath a few frustrated curses before throwing another jab. He shakes his head in disapproval and grabs your arms. “Straighten up and twist your hips. Keep your eyes on your target.” You try again and though you do a lot better you almost embarrassingly lose your balance, making Boba have to catch you. He groans under his helmet frustrated but pulls you up to your feet anyway. “Try again.” He orders. You can already feel yourself prickling with irritation but you're too keen on not giving up so easily. You ultimately go at this for hours, him grunting under his helmet and correcting you, you groaning and cursing. Finally Boba has had enough and tries a new tactic, “hit me.”

“What?” You gasp, stopping your fist in mid air. You’re drenched in sweat and heaving from exhaustion. Boba feels himself twitch in his pants. “Hit me.” He repeats, voice stronger. “N-no.” You protest and he shakes his head growling. “It won’t hurt.” He argues, and admittedly that stinks but you still refuse making his cheeks burn red. “Hit me like your people depend on it.” He says suddenly, and your eyes narrow at him. “I mean it!” He growls. “Hit me like I’m the only thing standing in your way of freeing your people.”

“No!” You choke, backing away. “I won’t.”

“If you won’t hit me! How will you ever defend your people?” He insists. You push at his chest but he doesn’t budge. “I can help them. What do you know?” He grips your arms firmly. “I know alot about war, girl. There’s no mercy for the weak and hesitant.” You scold him, this time pushing past him. “I’m not weak nor hesitant!” You sneer.

“Prove it.” He hisses. When you don’t turn around he pushes at you once more. “You say death is better than bondage? What is different from giving up and living and giving up and dying if either way you’ll be remembered as the last of the Nivrols.” You hault, your skin burning, you’re practically seething at his words. Knowing they held a deadly truth. “Because we’ll die with honor.” You growl, fisting your hands at your side. Boba steps closer, his head tilting down close to your ear. “But you don’t want your people to die, you want them to live like every great leader would.” He whispers, and you clench your eyes close as you feel him tilt closer. “So, are you willing to lay down and die for your people or are you going to fucking fight?”

You don’t think, you just move like he does. Fast and fluid.

It happens so fast, he barely has time to register what happens. You hardly know what’s happening yourself before it’s too late. He lands on the matted ground with a heavy thud and you hold your aching knuckles close to your chest. D-did you just fucking uppercut him? You’re bewildered, panting and staring at him with wide eyes. He’s still...too fucking still but then you hear it, grumbling from the depths of his chest and you’re frozen. He lets out another animalistic growl at the sight of you. Horribly disheveled, a wondrous messy thing. Lock strands loosely hanging, clothes ruffled and nearly exposing the sensitive skin he’s dreamed about mindlessly. You tower over him like a true Nivrol warrior, a savior coming to cut down a sarlacc herself. Your chest heaving and stickyly coated with sweat. Mouth parted and tongue peeking out and licking the saltiness tethering down to your lips.

You could crumble right now, he’s a vision of ecstasy. Pure static plowing right through you, electrifying every nerve in your body. He’s on his hands and knees gazing upward at you, panting. Then all of sudden he’s growling and springing forward, latching his arms around you and using all his weight to knock you over. Forcing all the wind out of your lungs. He wrestles your arms over your head once you’re on the ground and you grit your teeth squirming. Great sun god he’s fucking strong! His visor glaring below at you, you give in, gasping for air. You could fight him, you feel the edge of it curling in your stomach but you release the urge. Instead relenting and letting the sensation of him hovering over you consume you. Overwhelm you.

You’re like that for a while, a sweaty messy pile on the floor. He’s snarling at you as if he's an animal, ravishing with no reason, with the desire and instinct of wanting blood between its teeth. You’re afraid to move, laying like a corpse underneath him. His blunt nails bite into your skin as if he can’t decide how to devour you yet. You feel yourself clenching around nothing between your legs, grasping at an emptiness, longing to be full. You brace yourself for whatever comes next. His head lowers slowly and you’re trembling in his grasp. His visor comes closer until it’s taking up nearly all your vision. Then suddenly you’re closing your eyes, waiting in anticipation. Agony. Then...there’s a cool icy sensation pressing against your forehead. it’s heavy and hard, shoving your head into the mat. Your eyes hesitantly peer open and you realize he’s connecting your heads together, comfortably. It’s… debilitating.

You’re certain his eyes are close and you think maybe yours should be too. Some of the most beautiful moments in life are often spent with your eyes closed. Praying. Dreaming. Kissing. Wait, is this kissing? It feels like it, spine tingling and disembodying but it’s so much more. You know it. So you close your eyes and relinquish, pressing your head back into his. His breathing shudders at the action but he doesn’t move away. Instead his hand comes to gently cup the side of your face. With your free hand you hold the back of his helmet. His fingers loosen around your wrist, thumb brushing up and pressing into the center of your palm.

You’re disintegrated.

Utterly annihilated. This is it, he’s finally done it. Like a laser beam from the Death Star he’s ripped and vaporized you molecule after molecule. So, you catch yourself wondering how long does it take for a galaxy to collapse? Because it feels like only mere seconds for stardust to flood behind your eyes as if Boba has ignited a billion supernovas inside you.

Boba’s weight is heavy on yours, his legs stretching out and on either side of your own , trapping you in. You can hear faint panting breaths beneath the hem of his helmet. Your heart beats an inconsistent thump in your ears, and you absently wonder if you’ve ever heard it this loudly. His visor is a shimmering vision of your own reflection, holding it eagerly. You see your face glancing back at him with a peculiar look of joy and adoration, as if you’ve transcended. You’ll never get over how he looks at you. How could someone ever get over how a deliciously tan man admires them, as if they're a kaiburr crystal. His strong arms help pull you to your feet. You could smell the million miles of the galaxy on him. Feel the raveled adventures and experiences buried within his heating skin. You stand entwined , his arm swung around your waist and yours looping around his neck.

You almost ask him to lift his helmet, promise him you won’t peek, that you just want him to lift it so that you can kiss him...again. This time traditionally on the lips. Your mouth stutters open hesitantly but a voice stops you.

“Your majesty.” It proclaims.

There’s a brief silence.

You turn to glance at a man standing at the doorway, his braided beaded hair is tied back from his handsome face. He wears a wool brown coat and unpolished leather boots. You recognize him as Zoid’s son, Randdem. Zoid towers directly behind him, a disdain expression looms over his face. You nonchalantly remove yourself from Boba’s grasp and the hunter follows in suit. You felt pearls of sweat trickle down the back of your neck. If Zoid wants to say something crude he stifles under his breath.

You nod to Boba who takes that as his crew to leave, he walks casually to the changing room outside the hall. Zoid and Randdem wait for you to stride up the steps with the little bit of dignity you have left. You’re quite as their judging eyes glance you over, once Zoid has emptied all the pitying remarks from his head he sighs deeply before saying, “You remember my son, don’t you queen?”

Randdem is a husky young lad, bolder and fuller in outlines where Zoid is thinner. He’s worse than Zoid, really. He’s a four part combination of Zoid’s arrogance and pity with his mother’s selfishness and pride. Talking to him is like speaking to a tornado, not much to deliberate with a thing that only wants or knows destruction and dominance. The saddest part of it all is Randdem is fairly handsome and if it wasn’t for his redundant personality more suitors would surely be in his favor. You’ve never liked him, not even when you were children.

“Of course,” you swallow. Zoid nods approvingly,”I brought him here to get to know you better, seeing as he’ll be serving at your side as a council leader once I’m gone.”

Yeah, great. “My queen,” Randdem says and he halfway bows to you. “If you’d like I’d love to request having you to dinner this evening.” You must pull a face because Zoid scolds you. “I-I’m sorry!” You try to recover. “This is so unexpected.” You rub the back of your neck, embarrass.

“I understand your majesty, which is why I made sure to ask on a day I knew you’d be free.” Randdem continues. You give him a puzzle look. How long have they been planning this meeting? “Though, I wasn’t expecting to find you here?” He goes on. You try grinning but you know you must look ridiculous because all you want to is snarl at them so you just purse your lips instead and nod. “R-right.” You answer, your hands fidgeting at your side.

“So you’ll be ok with this evening?” He asks again.

You frown,“Well, actually-”

“Of course she will!” Zoid interrupts, and it takes every ounce of self restraint in your body not to uppercut him. “Isn’t that right?” He turns to you with a look of expectancy in his eyes. And you’re left gawking between the two before mustering up the tintest smile you could without cursing at them both.

“Of course.” You finally utter through gritted teeth. “It’ll give us time to catch up.”

“As I thought,” Zoid nods. They both turn to leave but before they’ve finally left Zoid turns around and crinkles up his nose. “And please I’d advise you freshen up before the evening, if you don’t mind. You smell ranted and too much like him. ” Randdem and Zoid chuckle on their way out before letting the heavy doors slam close behind them. You turn around, sighing with exasperation. Boba stands with his arms crossed, now fully armored. “So,” he began. “You have a date?” You groan, “Shut it, fett!” He chuckles and you feel your heart flutter but you are in too much of a sour mood to truly enjoy the sound of his laughter though it is nice to hear.

Great sun god give you strength. What have you been dragged into?

~*~

The dress Galine has fastened you in is way too nice for an evening to be met in disaster. The hunter is cautious with his hand, lingering and pressing into your back lower than what’d normally be appropriate. He lets it slither away and melt down at his side when the merchant warriors come into view at the entrance of the dining hall. Randdem leans back casually against the large doors, arms crossed and an impatient expression sunken in his features. “Shall you accompany me inside?”, he began. “Without your…companion.” He flicks his hand in Boba's direction and recoils it just as fast as if his skin cells reject even being near the same air as him. Your inside grind together to mush. “If your warriors will keep him company instead.” You bargain, and Randdem scowls at you but you just smile which makes his scowl impossibly more scornful. He clamps his mouth shut and nods pointedly, escorting you into the dining hall. His brows never unfrowrow . Like father, like son you supposed.

~*~

A single marble table with a white sheet handsomely decorates the dining hall. Two chairs set out on either ending sides of the table, and bestow on top are delicate appetizers and aged wine. Randdem pulls out your chair for you before walking and plopping down on his own. He picks lazily from a bowl munching on a purple fruit. While a young peasant boy fills your goblet , before scrambling into the kitchen away from the tense atmosphere. The air is stale from the lack of conversation. “I didn’t know you took an interest in me.” You quip, taking a slow sip of your wine. “I’m interested in our people’s future.” He sneers, plucking again at the fruit. A smile stretches thin on your lips. “I figured.” His own grin is sly and conspiratorial, making your leg twitch under the table. “You’re leading an entire world now. Do you believe it’d be wise to do it alone?” You shoot him a curious glance and it’s like he relishes in watching you grow flustered. “Historically,” you began. A knowing smile tilting upward on your lips, “women led their kingdoms better compared to kings. Especially alone.” He scowls at you but you pretend not to notice, instead politely sipping more wine.

“Are you referring to your grandmother?”

You nod, “When my grandfather passed she raised my mother alone and cared for the entire kingdom. Then for ten years my mother led this kingdom before marrying my father. During that time we prospered.”

He clasps his hands. “Those women were not only queens, but warriors.” You cock your head, a challenging glint in your eyes. “Warriors can be judged more than on just their fighting.” You respond. “They can be judged on their character. I was raised by two of the most prominent warriors of our lifetime, and not just because of their fighting skill but because of their heart.” Randdem gives you a smug impression. “Our people need more than good spirits and charm.”

“Then I will be whatever they need me to be.” You say.

He crosses his arms, leaning back making the wooden chair creak in protest. “Why is it then you pranced around with that hunter in the training hall?” You squint your eyes at him. “That doesn’t concern you.” He chuckles amused.“You know I’m right! That’s why you were down there with him.” You flush warm with embarrassment. “You shouldn’t comment on what you don’t know.” You snarl. “I've seen enough of your gushy display in one of the most sacred rooms in the entire kingdom to know you have no shame. How dare whore yourself out to t-that damned cloned buckethead your father allowed to roam the kingdom and filthy it!” This time you scowl at him. “You dare speak ill to me? You’re queen! Who are you to speak to me this way and question my father?!” You shot to your feet, voice ringing out. He jabs his finger in your direction, “You are not my queen!” He growls, teeth baring.

“But I am, whether your father or you can accept it or not! I am your queen.” You hiss, gripping either side of the table. “But, you’ll never be king.” He glares at you, eyes like two black infinite portals. “What were you expecting? That I’d marry you?” You croak. “Never.”

“The kingdom needs an honorable leader.” He retorts. “And that isn’t you!” You huff, crossing slowly around the table like a predator onto its prey. Menacing and delighted to devour. “And you think that’s you?” You snarl, lifting an eyebrow amused. “You have less honor than you think. Your father would rather give in and lay over as our people become enslaved, he’s less of a warrior than he is a leader.” He’s taken back by your words, fisting his hands in his lap.

“That’s not true you lying bastard!” He snaps, rising to his feet and knocking over his chair behind him with a loud clang.

“But it is.” You sneer. “My father and I wanted to fight for our freedom, but yours wanted our people to suffer again. And you accuse me of being the weak one? So, don’t you dare question me or him.” You growl, closing in. “And don’t dare talk about the hunter like that again or I’ll-”

“You’ll what?!” He interjects as he rounds the table all fuming anger and resentment. “Don’t make me laugh, boy.” You huff. “You think you’ll bring back our honor? You’ll have no honor left if I find out your father had anything to do with my father’s death. You and your whole family will be banished!” Randdem stills, paling at your accusation. “N-no!” He can barely spit out. “No! That’s isn’t t-true! M-my father is a man of honor!” He screams, like a child throwing a tantrum. You know the help is listening, who wouldn’t. You’re sure there’ll be rumors spreading like vicious fire tomorrow. You turn away and he’s left trying to follow after you but he’s so angry and confused he stumbles over his own feet having to use the table as leverage as he walks, while cursing loudly behind you. The dinner hall’s doors abruptly open and the hunter and merchant warriors usher themselves inside. You carefully maneuver yourself around them, making a hasty exit while Randdem spits more cruel insults. The hunter half expects you to turn around but you don’t budge. Instead you walk calmly out of Randdem’s sight and request the guards not let him enter the castle again without direct permission from you.

~*~

“What happened?” Boba spoke first and you’re startled by the gentleness of his voice. Your chambers are dark and quiet, chilly from the wind blowing in the open window. You perch yourself on the edge of your bed. “We had an argument, and he said some rather distasteful things...and so did I .” You groan and run a tiresome hand through your locks. “It’s clear Randdem and Zoid don’t want me to be queen.” When he steps closer you shift your eyes away. The hunter tilts his head.

“What else is bothering you?”

“He...well he insulted you.”

“So?” The hunter shrugs and you roll your eyes to the ceiling. “So,” you mock playfully. “I defended you.”

“Why?”

“Because I wanted to.”

He huffs as if scuffing down a laugh and you glare at him. The hunter looks down as if his shoes suddenly needed a close inspection. His shoulder shaking lightly, the corner of your mouth quirks up. “I thought you once saw me like you saw dirt on the bottom of your shoe.” He suddenly comments and you flick your eyes at him in shock and this time you make a quiet sound that made him peer halfway up at you.

“I see you like I see the sun, blinding. Even when I’m not looking at you, I feel you.”

The hunter’s head snaps up at you and you take a breath.

You wondered if he was smiling, imagined his eyes crinkling with the force of it. As if reading your mind a hesitant hand reaches out and touches the bottom of the helmet. You suddenly seem incapable of moving, face deliberately blank. He waits and there’s a brief moment before your eyes grow wide. You rise and walk close to him and your hand covers his own. His gloved hand is warm underneath the rough leather. You’re trembling with pure adrenaline, heart fluttering. You let him guide you into lifting it, you go slow enough for him to stop you if he wants to, but when he doesn’t you see his soft lips first and you almost lose your composure and kiss him right then but instead you take a deep inhale. Dark trimmed facial hair prances across the lower half of his face and his upper lip, it prickles against your fingers. Dark hair brushing under his ears and trimmed and faded almost down to his gorgeous sharp jawline. Some of his hair extends long over the back of his neck, then his broad nose comes into view, straight and wide. And suddenly...his brown eyes meet yours and you realize he’s more breathtaking than you could’ve ever dreamt. Handsome and sculpted as if everything in the universe that blooms from a certain beauty that commands your attention cracked open and offered you him. Now that you see him for the first time...smiling at you...you realize

like the moon he’s a stealer of light but you know nothing better that could hold light like the smile upon his face because just like the moon he’s crafted to glow. So, maybe he’s collected borrowed time, star dust, and gunpowder. Enough wisdom and morals to fill a holy scripture but enough violence and death to also burn the same book to ash by the touch of his fingertips. Enough adventure to last lifetimes and fill children’s heads with a mindless abundance of wonder and fantasy. Enough vulnerability hidden away to quiver at your hands and melt like an ice sculpture to his knees. There’s so many ways this could end, but with him in front of you like a heavenly body, you know it’s barely begun, whatever universe that was slowly being born into existence between you two. You knew you’d be tethered to him by it forever.

“Come with me.” You whisper softly and his brown eyes gleam, heart thumping against his chest.

“Where?”

“Outside.”

You point to the window and he rubs a slow hand up his arm while the other holds his helmet against his side.

“It’s cold.” He protests and you giggle to yourself as you begin to clamper out the window anyway. The ledge is much smaller compared to you now of course, though you still manage to crawl out and sit near the window. You lean back on the kingdom wall carefully, knowing Galine would kill you if you soiled your gown. Your thighs rest on the ledge while the rest of your body hangs over. You close your eyes but the corners of your mouth twitch up in a small victorious grin when you hear his defeated sigh. Boba comes out more smoothly than you as if the womp rat has done it a thousand times and he rests himself beside you.

After a moment of staring into endless space he utters, “Tell me about the stars.” You bite your bottom lip. “The stars have secrets like us my mother used to tell me, but they also have stories.”He tilts his head, waiting. You smile, closing your eyes tighter and breathing in deeply. You remember your mother taking you into her lap at the window and oiling your small braids and scalp. “She’d say the sky and the world fell in love. That the sky hung the moon for the world, and that the world in return gave the sky, flowers. My mother said the sun god was born first, then all the other gods followed.” She’d tell you each god’s birth and their purpose as her soft massaging hands lulled you to sleep.

“You believe that?” He questions, lifting an eyebrow . You look at him, baring a cheeky smile. “That two powerful lovers created a universe of their own? I witness it all the time.” You gesture to the hundreds of homes stretching out in the grasslands of the kingdom. Boba chuckles, smiling at you and leaning his head back against the wall and you couldn’t help but stare at the subtle movements. You know he wasn’t doing anything extraordinary but you could tell he was the god of his life, of his own destiny. We’re all the gods of small things, even if it’s just ourselves. With an upturn face you peer at him. If you both were gods you wanted to meet him halfway to an astral plane where both your heavens collided.

So...you kiss him, mouth slotting over his gently, soul transcending to the stars. Your mouth becomes an open exhibit for his tongue to explore through. Instead of his eyes, his wet warmth admires the best parts of you. Flicking and tasting the dirtiest details with the filthiest sweetness he’s ever known. Your fingers curl into the nape of his dark coarse hair, tugging. As if teasing the strings from an instrument it pulls a wondrous sound from his lips, an orchestra rumbling in his chest. His heavy groan quiet against your lips, a song only yours.

If tonight you could make love to him, you’d push him over the sheets of your bed, lay him bare and golden like a horizon. Kiss his scarred skin and lick the stardust from his flesh. Let him wither you down into a vulnerable shaking pile on the blanket and obliterate your ego and the rising sarcastic remarks on your tongue and so maybe then when he’s laid warm on top of you, weary and desperate, you suddenly appreciate everything in the universe that is...

...metal, quiet , and green.

And it lead you like little boats floating down aisles back to him.

Back home.

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