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uncouth-the-fifth · 3 years

Note

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

#damian wayne smut #damian wayne #damian wayne x reader #damian wayne x reader smut #damian wayne x you #robin smut #robin #dc smut #dc comics #dc #user uncouth

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shookspearewrites · 2 years

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Shookspeare Royal Romance: Vincent

Ahhh it’s finally Vincent’s turn! Only 2 more instalments of the mini series left after this, are you guys excited for them? I certainly am~

- JJ x

~~~~~~~~~~

I Give You My Breath, Vincent van Gogh

Princess MC grinned at herself in the mirror, admiring her pristine white wedding gown and the twinkle of the tiara resting atop her soft hair. Her hands were busy smoothing the long skirts of her dress when there came a gentle knock at the door and along with it, the rough voice of her soon-to-be brother in law, “MC, are you ready?” Prince Theo pushed open the door and his usually stern expression softed when his cool blue eyes found MC, “My broer certainly is lucky to be marrying you.”

“Oh, Theo,” MC giggled before wandering over to her fiancé's brother and carefully combing a lock of caramel brown hair that had fallen from his slicked back hairstyle back into place, “I’m honestly a little nervous. I’m glad you’ll be giving me away, though,” the princess smiled as she took Theo’s arm and nodded determinedly, “You know I never imagined that my wedding would be such a big event.”

“Royal weddings always attract the world’s attention. It’ll be the same when I get married, so you better get used to it.”

The younger of the van Gogh brothers led MC towards the church, holding her arm securely in his own until the moment they reached Prince Vincent who stood at the altar, beaming from ear to ear when he saw his beloved. The blond prince took MC’s hands into his own, squeezing them lovingly when all he wanted to do was kiss her breathless and tell her how stunningly angelic she looked in her wedding dress. Vincent pulled the princess close, kissing her cheek chastely before uttering words only she could hear, “You are the most beautiful woman in the world.”

The ceremony was traditional yet beautiful - and it spared no expense to be so - with all of the flourishes befitting of celebrating the royal couple. “I give you this ring,” the princess’ wedding ring twinkled in the summer sun which streamed into the cathedral but it was Vincent who captivated her, his soft lips kissing the delicate palm of her hand, “I give you my breath.” MC felt tears prick the corners of her eyes as he continued to speak, “And I give you my love. Princess, I swear to protect you, until death do us part.”

The officiant turned his softened eyes towards MC, “Princess MC, do you accept Prince Vincent’s vows and promise your life to him?”

“I do.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause when the newlyweds shared their first kiss as man and wife, slow and passionate yet still appropriate enough to share in the public eye: the more amorous moments were to come later. Hundreds of onlookers continued to support Vincent and MC when they boarded their white horse drawn carriage, looking like a couple in a perfect fairytale.

After the sun had set and the adoring crowds had returned home, so too did the royal couple return to their palace and they found themselves gazing out at their kingdom from their balcony, still wearing their wedding attire, each with a glass of champagne in hand. Vincent’s hand slipped around MC’s waist and he squeezed her side gently, pulling her closer to his body so they were comfortably huddled together. The prince’s china blue eyes watched the twinkling stars that hung above his kingdom with a smile bright enough that one would think it was daytime, his Dutch accent soft and brimming with affection when he broke the comfortable silence, “I am so lucky.” He placed his glass of champagne down on the little coffee table beside him.

Princess MC tilted her head slightly, gazing up at her new husband and feeling her heart skip a beat at the sight of his impossibly tender expression, “How so, Vincent?”

Vincent turned his body so now he and his wife were chest to chest, his gentle hands running down the back of her silk gown and resting comfortably on her bottom, “I have you, liefje!” He was beaming from ear to ear and she blushed when he inched closer to kiss her lips briefly, “The most beautiful wife and the most beautiful land, what more could a man want?” The prince stepped back and offered his princess his hand, which she gladly took, “Would her highness join me in our wedding bed?” Despite the implications of the question, Vincent’s voice was soft and almost innocently hopeful, matching his striking cornflower blue eyes.

“I would,” the princess answered, allowing Vincent to lead her over to their bed and lay her down beneath him, “You know, I know a princess who has the most amazing husband in the world.” MC reached her delicate left hand up to caress Vincent’s cheek, her wedding ring cool against his flushed skin. The princess’ hands trailed downward to her prince’s collar and began to loosen his tie and unbutton his crisp white shirt, “He’s kind and he’s handsome and I hear that he is the loveliest man in the world.”

“Really, now?” One of Vincent’s hands - the one not holding him hovering above his beloved - took his wife’s hands and halted her movements, pinning them above her head with an unfamiliar air of dominance only she knew from him, “How bold of my wife to speak of another man, and in our wedding bed no less.” Prince Vincent smirked, baring his fangs only for a moment which had Princess MC gasping with anticipation. They both knew that they were playing, but that only added to the thrill of their first night together as man and wife, with Vincent’s voice a teasing whisper when he spoke against the soft skin of her neck, “I hope my princess is prepared to be loved so completely that no other man will ever cross her mind again. I vowed as much this afternoon, remember?” The heir to throne’s grip on his beloved’s wrists loosened and he brought her left hand up to his lips, kissing her wedding ring before his lips moved to brush against her knuckles tenderly, “You are my wife, mijn vrouw, and I give you my breath, my life, my all.”

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shoutaaizawas · 4 years

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↳ keigo takami x fem!reader → ❝shiny things❞

summary: hawks has more bird-like tendencies than you initially thought. he likes to present you with odd items as gifts and finally you figure out why word count: 2,406 tags/warnings: fluff, hawks being a bird a/n: uhh i don’t know i love the bird man

sequel “preening”

masterlist

Dating Hawks was unusual for a list of reasons. He was a pro hero so that meant he was very busy, in the public eye, and couldn’t tell you everything. Then there was the way Hawks had been raised. After a while of dating, he trusted you enough to open up and tell you about his childhood. It shed a lot of light on the things he did in your relationship. But perhaps the least expected thing was his bird-like habits.

It wasn’t unusual for people with animal-like quirks the show similar traits to said animal. Selkie and Gang Orca came to mind although they looked more like their animal counterparts than Hawks did. Perhaps that was why you didn’t expect it from him.

At first, you thought he was joking. You had been dating for a while enough to know each other well enough to start to develop feelings. Hawks flew in to meet you for a coffee date in between work. The wind-blown hair and charming smile always made your heart skip a beat.

“Look what I found.” He said, his tone of voice sounded like an excited kid. He held out his hand present the shiny blue marble. You glanced up at him wondering if he was joking but he looked happy to present this offering. The last thing you wanted to do was hurt his feelings even if you didn’t quite understand.

“Wow, where’d you find this?” You asked taking it and holding it up in the light to examine it.

“I found it on patrol.” He said. “It was shining in the light and caught my eye. Don’t worry I washed it off.” He reassured. That almost made you laugh.

“It’s pretty.” You said. That wasn’t a lie, in its own way it was pretty but you could honestly say you had never met someone over the age of ten present a marble with such excitement.

“It’s for you.” He said with a smile that melted your heart. The sentiment wasn’t lost on you even if you were trying to wrap your head around it.

“Thank you, you’re too sweet.” You told him before pressing a kiss to his cheek.

The next time that happened you were more prepared for it. It was a perfect day, the sky was clear, and the weather cool. The salty breeze from the ocean filled the air around you as you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend. The sun was sinking into the horizon leaving a beautiful sunset.

Hawks spotted something, his eyes widening as he let go of your hand and rushed forward. He leaned down picking up something from the ground. Brushing it off he stood and returned to your side.

“Look!” He said in an excited voice holding his open hand up to you. You smiled at the way his wings fluttered in excitement behind him.

“What is it?” You asked putting one hand underneath his as you looked. There was a small shiny green object, it almost looked like a rock.

“It’s a piece of sea glass! It’s normal glass that ends up in the ocean, it takes like fifty years of tumbling around in the water to look like this.” He said. Looking at it, it was pretty. The frosted texture was unique you realized as you picked it up. He closed your hand over it. “Keep it.” He smiled.

You smiled at him sliding the sea glass in your pocket for safekeeping. This wasn’t the last time that he gave you an odd gift with a genuine spirit. You always smiled when he presented the items with pride and excitement, his feathers puffed up.

It was a night that you were spending with Hawks at his fancy apartment when things started to make more sense. You had made him dinner and were enjoying a bottle of wine now.

Hawks wasn’t a drinker but since you met him you had gotten him to like wine. It wasn’t unusual for you to share a bottle. It always amused you the pink tint on his cheeks and how relaxed he got.

The view from Hawks balcony was nice, a perfect city skyline. The love seat there was comfy and so was your position resting against Hawks, one of his winds draped around you keeping you close and protecting you from the cold night. The candles lit around you gave off a dim glow.

You looked at your empty glass and his. As much as you didn’t want to get up you did want more wine so you would have to sacrifice your comfort for a moment.

“Let me get you more.” You said taking his glass in your hand before standing up. He made a noise of complaint at the loss of contact.

“I can get it.” He said. You leaned forward pressing a kiss against his lips, your free hand grazing his cheek.

“Let me, relax here. I’ll be right back.” You said before walking into the apartment. You entered his nice kitchen grabbing the bottle on the counter. There was enough for one glass. You looked at the full bottle on the counter. It wouldn’t hurt to open up another, you could always save the rest if you didn’t finish it.

Opening a drawer you looked for the wine opener. This one had normal utensils in it. The one below it had towels. It was the third drawer down that was odd.

It was full of random items, rocks, stray earrings, buttons, and other odds and ends. It wasn’t your usual junk drawer. All of the items had a certain shine to them. Your mind was immediately pulled to the random things Hawks had presented to you so happily.

You let out a small gasp as it all clicked. He was a bird. Well, not literally but it seemed he shared more traits with the animal than you had originally guessed. Looking at all the items you knew that he cared for them enough to keep them in his house.

A smile met your lips thinking about how excited he always was as he handed you the shiny thing he had found. It was so sweet that he gave them to you instead of keeping it for his own collection. Had he even been keeping anything for himself since he met you?

Your heart felt full as you closed the drawer and looked for the wine opener. Hawks was already so sweet and somehow this odd quirk of his added on to it.

Returning to the balcony you sat down next to him handing him his glass before pulling him in for a deep kiss. Your free hand tangled in his feathers and you could feel him sigh against your lips.

“What was that for?” He questioned pulling back with pink cheeks and a content smirk.

“Nothing, I just really like you.” You smiled.

“Well, I really like you too.” He said before pulling you in for another kiss.

“So I gave her this shiny rock and she was so happy, I love the way she smiles when I give her stuff.” Hawks gushed about you to Mirko often. The rabbit hero was patient in listening to him but would often roll her eyes at how head over heels he was.

“Wait, so you’re telling me the kind of gifts you’ve been giving her are shiny rocks and marbles?” She questioned. “Please don’t tell me you’ve stolen french fries from tourists to give to her.” Hawks gave her a questioning look.

“I always give her the shiny stuff I find now.” He said.

“And she hasn’t dumped you?” She questioned with a raised eyebrow. “Wow, she must really like like you.”

“What do you mean?”

“A lot of girls like shiny things but they usually prefer bracelets, necklaces, rings, or even cars if you’re really trying to spoiler her. Maybe a designer pair of shoes or a purse.” She said thoughtfully. “Most girls would have left by now if they were given shiny debris from their boyfriend.”

Hawks stood there frozen trying to process what she was saying.

“Trust me, I get it, Hawks. The animal tendencies can be strong but you have to recognize them and adjust. Find a way to fill that urge but in a way that your partner will appreciate more.”

“I didn’t even realize it.” Hawks said in a quiet voice. “Oh no she’s probably hated all the stuff I’ve been giving her and has just been nice to me.” He groaned.

Mirko patted him on the shoulder.

“Happens to the best of us. I nibbled on my first crushes sleeve. There are some things you’ll never forget how embarrassing they were.” She sighed, staring off in her memory.

“That’s rough.” Hawks said. “I’m just glad you told me before she got too weirded out. I really like her, I don’t want to ruin it with her.”

“That’s what friends are for to help you with your blind spots.” She explained. “And Hawks, if she stuck around this long I don’t think you’re scaring her off with shiny marbles.” She teased.

Hawks felt so embarrassed. He had no relationship experience. His childhood had not been a normal one, he didn’t go to middle school or high school. He didn’t go on awkward dates or take someone to prom. It was uncharted territory. He never even intended on dating anyone his life was too complicated then he met you and every excuse he had to date someone was out the window.

He had to make it up to you, he had to explain himself but he was trying to figure out the best way to do that. He recalled you telling him a story about earrings that you had really wanted to buy once at a boutique on vacation but you had ended up not buying them for one reason or another. He had made note of that hoping to look for one similar to what you described but hadn’t gotten around to it.

Now was finally his time, surprisingly it wasn’t that hard to find something that matched your description. He hoped it was close enough for you. Hawks texted you asking if he could come over tonight when you were home and you agreed.

After patrol, he picked up your favorite take out and headed over to your place. He landed on the balcony walking in as you told him he could. You sat on the couch wearing a cute pair of sweatpants and a sweater.

“Hey, babe.” You said standing up and walking over to him, greeting him with a kiss.

“Hey, little bird.” He said returning the kiss.

“Is that what I think it is?” You questioned.

“Your favorite.” He smiled. The two of you sat down at the couch opening up the bag of food and digging in.

“What’s the special occasion?” You asked as you finished up your food.

“I wanted to talk.” He answered, immediately he saw you face drop. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

“Oh.” You sighed in relief.

“Actually I wanted to apologize.” He started, his wings looked tense.

“For what?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“The gifts I’ve given you, my friend pointed out that they’re weird and not something you should give your girlfriend.

“Hawks-” You tried to interrupt but he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just something I’ve done since I was a kid. I see something shiny and I take it, I’ve had a collection forever and I don’t know I never questioned it until Mirko pointed it out. I just would always get so excited when I saw stuff I kept it. When I started dating you I’d see something and I would think this is so pretty I have to share it with her, I don’t want to keep it to myself-”

“Hawks.” You said taking his hand in yours. “Don’t apologize. Look.”

He watched as you leaned to your coffee table grabbing the small box on it and setting it in between the two of you. Opening it he realized it was full of all the things he had given you.

“I’ll admit I was a little confused at first but even then I saw how happy you were and it was so cute. How could I deny or be upset about you giving me something that made you so happy.” You explained, brushing your hand over the piece of sea glass he gave you. “Eventually I figured it out, I saw the drawer at your place and I put it together. Honestly, the fact that you gave me these means far more than expensive jewelry would mean to me.”

Hawks stared at you in disbelief. How had he ever found someone as amazing as you? He fought the tears that threatened to well up in his eyes. You had understood him without him ever having to explain.

“Actually, I just remembered.” You said standing up and moving to your purse by the door. You looked through it for a moment before finding what you were looking for. Sitting down you held your hand out presenting a shiny vintage key. “I saw this today at a little store I stopped at on my break. I don’t know if it will fit into your collection but-”

Before you could even finish your sentence Hawks had nearly tackled you into a kiss. His arms wrapped around you pulling you close as his wings fluttered. He pulled back looking into your eyes.

“I love you.” The words came out before he could stop them. He already felt so much for you but this had pushed it over the edge.

“Keigo, I-I love you too.” You returned not expecting anything that had just happened.

“I got you a gift, a proper gift this time.” He said reaching into his pocket. “The earrings you talked about, I hope they are close enough to the ones you wanted.”

“Keigo, they’re perfect.” You said pulling him in for another kiss. “Thank you.”

Hawks was more than just a pretty face and you had seen through that. Getting to know him, the real him, not the person the media presented or the child that had been raised into a weapon, was something you had enjoyed. Not only did you get to know the real Hawks but you had fallen deeply in love with him, bird traits, and all.

taglist: @sugarmaplewings-fics @lilkiwisfinest @ewwis @kandy1410 @moonlightaangel @winnies-headcannons @bakugousidehoe @paintedr0ses1 @toobsessedsstuff @spellboundxizi @ourladyofseijoh @x0doodlebug0x @katsushimaa @mooncademia

#hawks x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo x reader #bnha #mha #hawks #keigo takami #my writing #had to repost because it didnt go in the tags smh

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to-boldly-nope · 3 years

Text

Where Did The Party Go?- Robert Laing x Female Reader Smut

Pairing: Robert Laing x Female Reader

Words: 1,471

Warnings: SMUT, PWP, dirty talk, unprotected sex, fingering, vaginal sex, drug and alcohol mention, smoking, public sex, orgasm denial?, just really bad writing

A/N: I need to get used to writing smut but I get so embarrassed and end up putting it off for weeks aha also like this is kinda filthy if you know me irl then you don't :)

A party on the 27th floor was the place to be tonight. The bass of the rock music vibrated the walls and the glasses full of cheap alcohol. Bodies were dancing or making out in a sense. You were propped up against the bar, holding a glass of cheap wine and chatting with the guy from 2512.

"So, you're a doctor?" You asked before drinking your wine.

"I study in physiology. What do you do for a living?"

You smirked and grabbed his tie, pulling him closer to you. You put your lips next to his ear and whispered, "Wouldn't you like to know?"

You let go of his tie and finished the rest of your wine. He lit a cigarette and you slightly coughed, waving the smoke away from your face.

"Sorry," he muttered while putting the cigarette in one of the dents in the ashtray.

"It's not you, it's the rest of the smoke. I'm surprised that nothing's caught fire yet."

"Is it like this all the time?"

You grabbed another bottle of wine and began to pour yourself another glass. "Yeah, I'd say so. I don't show up to many parties."

"Such a shame. My name's Robert Laing, by the way."

"You know, Robert, Charlotte wasn't the only one who saw you on the balcony last week. Haven't you heard of indecent exposure? However, if you wish to continue then I wouldn't protest much. You're such a marvelous sight."

Robert looked you up and down before smiling, "Would you like to dance?"

"And by dance you mean-?"

"Us being close together, moving as one," he smirked.

"You know me too well, Laing," you smiled as you sat down your wine glass.

Laing grabbed your hand and let you to somewhere in the room. All the songs that played were everything but slow and romantic, which sat the mood for the moment. You felt Laing push his chest into your back and he put his hand on your stomach, making you move with the beat.

"You like to be in control, don't you?"

You felt him grind into you and you bit your lip. If he kept this up then you'd be a goner.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He whispered in your ear like you did him earlier.

"I'm having the time of my life right now. Honestly, though, if you wanted to fuck me all you had to do was ask. I know we're both sober right now."

He nipped at your earlobe before placing kisses down your jaw and neck, making you whimper and smile.

"So, you wouldn't mind if I fuck you right here in front of all of these people?"

"Please," you scoffed as he began to leave hickies on you. Your hand went up to his hair as he continued to make you grind on him. "These people are so fucking horny all the time they'd probably enjoy it."

"I could always fuck you senseless on the balcony."

"Like you did Charlotte?" You laughed. "Won't she be upset when she learns that you fucked another girl the same way?"

He spun you around to where you were facing him. He looked annoyed in whatever light there was, but your teasing didn't help. "She was a one night stand. However, I like you and don't plan on getting rid of you that easily."

"Nor I you, Doctor."

"Good girl," he whispered as one of his hands went under your dress. He looked back up at you with a surprised look. "No panties? You made this easier for the both of us, haven't you?"

Before you could answer, he was drawing circles on your clit. You jolted from the sudden shock and let out a moan. His other hand was quick to grab your ass to hold you steady. He looked at your lips for a second before kissing you gently at first, then he kissed you again while using his tongue.

His hand went from your clit down to your core and he didn't hesitate to insert two of his fingers inside you.

"Shit," you moaned.

"You like that? Being fingered in front of all of these people?"

"God, yes."

Everybody was in their own little world, whether it was from the drugs or the alcohol, to even notice you and Laing. The music drowned out your moans and whimpers so they couldn't hear a thing.

His fingers curled and you let out a little scream. Laing only smiled at you, picking up his pace.

"Remember if you cum then you can't let it get on the carpet."

"What? Fucking hell-"

Laing pulled his fingers out of you and admired your arousal. "Balcony. Now."

You basically ran to the balcony with Laing following behind you. He lead you over the ledge and kissed you again, grabbing your legs and putting them around his waist.

It was quieter out on the balcony. The bass vibrations and chatter were still there, but the groans and panting were now audible for the both of you.

"Please, don't drop me," you said as he grinded against you again.

"I won't, don't worry. I got you."

He picked you up and laid you down on the table. Laing grabbed a hold of your legs and put them on his shoulders. He began to nip at your thighs, making your legs shake and almost close. You felt him lick an area of skin before biting it, making you let out a choked whimper.

"Do you like that? Use your words, baby."

"Yes, sir."

He groaned against your skin when you spoke, making you shiver in the warm summer night. "God, I think that you're going to be the best one I've ever had."

He put your legs down and quickly unbuckled his pants and you yanked his tie off before going to unbutton his shirt.

"Come here," he breathed out pulling your body close to his. He didn't hesitate to start thrusting into you. You were quick to wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you and your legs around his waist. You dug your fingernails into his back while moaning.

"Do that again," he moaned, "God you feel so good."

You clawed at his back as he kissed you again, your moans muffled. You were embarrassed to admit that you were so close to cumming already and Laing could sense your feeling.

"Is my girl about to cum already? We just started," he smirked. "Just try to hold it a bit longer, ok?"

You nodded as he hit your g-spot, making you scream. Your chest heaved as you admired Laing from above you, eyes half-lidded and mouth open, he looked like a Greek god above you. He picked up his pace and the knot in your stomach wound tighter.

"C-cum?" You breathed. "Please?"

"Yes, oh god, fuck," he moaned out as he felt you clinch around him before cumming on him. He gave two more thrusts before cumming inside you, but he was still hard.

He grabbed you and flipped you over on your hands and knees. "You've been such a good girl. I'm sure you can handle round two, right?"

"Yes, sir. I can-"

"Just yes or no, dear."

"Yes, sir," you repeated.

"Good," he cooed while stroking your hair and then dragging his hand along your back. "If it's too much all you have to do is say something."

"Yes, sir."

His hands latched onto your hips as he inserted himself in you again, still containing his fast pace as before. The way his hands were gripping onto you, you were sure that there was going to be bruises.

"You're so beautiful taking my cock like this."

The music of the party inside began to fade as he continued to fuck you. You were sure that they can hear your moans and curses from inside now, but the thought just turned you on more.

"I'm gonna cum again," you moaned out as he began to place soft kisses along your spine.

"Me too," he simply grunted. He sped up his pace before burying himself deep inside of you and painting your walls white. You came soon after him.

"Would you like anything? Water? Some food?" Laing asked as he began getting dressed.

"I'm fine, thank you, Robert."

You handed him his tie and his shirt and he smiled as he took them, his face a tinted red and some of his his hair stuck to his forehead. A handsome creature he was.

"You never did tell me your name."

You got off the table and walked up to him and fixed his tie. "My name is (Y/N). Hope to see you around." You gave him a kiss and then walked away and he watched as you left. He really hoped that he too would see you around.

#robert laing #dr robert laing #robert laing x reader #highrise #robert laing imagine #robert laing x y/n #tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston x reader #robert laing smut #smut

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a-girl-must-have-a-new-name · 3 years

Text

All of the times Naruto knew she danced and the one time he didn't.

A/N: I've really wanted to write some Naruto fics for a while now but just haven't found the inspiration for it. Not sure how many I'll write but I hope to make a collection of these

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

The first time Naruto knew Hinata could dance it was on a mission. It was just a few months after the war. Hinata and Shikamaru were assigned as his mission partners to ensure that the diplomatic hero tour (as Kakashi had called it) would go off without a hitch. It had been a long mission, one that Naruto was slightly uncomfortable with. Sure he loved traveling and meeting friends but it felt silly to be paraded around villages like he was the only hero of the war. As though others didn’t help. As though others hadn’t died. Still, having Hinata and Shikamaru there with him made the trip worthwhile.

It was the day before one of the first grand parties to be held in Naruto’s honor. People from all over the land had gathered. All wanting to be a part of the festivities, with many young women hoping to catch the eye of the hero. Naruto felt a slight panic when the Daimyo slapped him on the back telling him how lucky he would be dancing all night.

Naruto looked pleadingly over his shoulder towards Shikamaru begging for help but the man barely shrugged before turning away. Though Naruto thought he caught the lazy bastard smiling at his misfortune. He was about to call the genius out when a gentle hand touched his shoulder.

“Naruto-kun, if you need help I can teach you some basic steps.” Hinata smiled at him encouragingly, causing warmth to spread in Naruto. Hinata was always there to save his ass. Grinning brightly to show his appreciation he grabbed her hand in his and led her away. Once they found a quiet and more importantly private area Hinata stepped closer calmly explaining what a waltz was.

“Naruto- kun in a waltz there are three steps. a forward step, a side step, then together.” Hinata demonstrated the steps to Naruto going over it a few times until he felt comfortable enough to try it himself.

“That’s correct Naruto-kun. Now after you bring your feet together you will go backward so step back with the right foot- just like that. Now bring your left foot back. Good. This time however it’s going to swing back to the side where you first started. Now bring the right foot to follow.” Hinata and Naruto stood side by side as she walked the steps with him, letting him get comfortable with the footing, gently nudging his foot to the correct step when there was confusion. Once he felt confident he had memorized the steps Hinata stepped in front of him, trying to ignore the light blush that was forming.

“Naruto-kun, I think we should practice as partners now, but only if you are comfortable.”

“I’m always comfortable with you Hinata-chan! You’re the best-ttebayo!” Hinata’s face was entirely red by now but she chose to ignore the heat. Instead, she continued on, showing him the arm positions while trying to ignore the way her heart skipped a beat when his arm came across her back.

Focusing on the warmth his other hand provided in hers. Hinata began showing him the rotations. It took quite a while to get the hang of. Especially when Naruto faltered as Hinata went to step backward when he went forward. He panicked thinking he had messed up the steps he stumbled over himself to fix it. Causing both skilled shinobi to fall. Naruto grabbed Hinata tightly around the waist, rotating them so that he landed on the ground and Hinata was cradled safely into his chest. Both stayed laying like that for perhaps a second longer than needed, Naruto once more unconsciously giving the woman a gentle squeeze before letting go quickly an embarrassed and apologetic smile on his face as he began to apologize.

“I’m so sorry Hinata-chan I didn’t mean to do that I swear! I just forgot and didn’t know if I was supposed to keep going forward or follow you!”

“No Naruto-kun it was my fault for not explaining better, you were going the right way, women have different steps to follow in the dance.”

“No! You’re great at explaining all this! really! I should have just trusted what you had told me and done that. I’m really sorry Hinata-chan but I promise I’ll get it!”

“It’s ok Naruto-kun it’s your first time, it is only natural to be nervous. I know you’ll get the hang of it. It’s our nindo, remember?” Hinata’s smile was so genuine and bright Naruto had to look away for a moment, her words lingering even after she had said them.

Our nindo.

Naruto felt a spark of energy soar through him and wondered if Kurama also felt motivated by Hinata’s words. Jumping back onto his feet Naruto stretched out his hand to Hinata. A fire burning behind his blue eyes as he clasped her hand once more. Pulling her up and even closer to him than before.

“Let’s try again-ttebayo!”

“H-hai!”

It was the evening of the party and Shikamaru and Naruto were walking around the ballroom together.

“Would you quit messing with it?” Shikamaru whispered in annoyance.

“I can’t help it, everything feels tight!” Naruto whined as he shifted the collar of his outfit. (A gift from the daimyo) and let out a string of curses. He felt like he was suffocating. Glancing over at his friend he felt envy, the Nara had on a much simpler version of his own outfit and it seemed that the man opted for his own undershirt rather than the constrictive piece of material that Naruto was currently wearing. Sighing the blonde adjusted the collar one final time before giving up and pouting.

“Hinata would feel sorry for me”

“Then go complain to her.”

“Tch- you know she said she would be arriving later.” Naruto had been excited to see Hinata. However, one of the daimyo’s servants had stopped at Naruto and Shikamaru’s room informing them that Hinata had sent a message letting them know that her own dress hadn’t arrived and that she would be a few minutes later than the boys.

That was an hour ago and Hinata still hadn’t shown up. Naruto was itching to go and find her, worried something had happened. Though also just wanting an excuse to escape from the boredom that was the party. However, before he got the chance the Daimyo entered the grand room from a balcony up above.

“Thank you all for gathering tonight to celebrate the end of the war and the prosperity we shall gain from it!" The daimyo smiled down at the cheering crowd, puffing his chest out like he was the reason such prosperity would come about. Still, Naruto was smart enough to keep from rolling his eyes. clapping in approval of the words.

"So tonight I ask that everyone enjoy the entertainment and food. Let the dancing begin!" It was like the Daimyo had opened the flood gates suddenly it seemed that every woman in the room had turned their attention onto Naruto. Many already trying to form a line to get to him.

S-Shikamaru I can’t dance with all of these girls, that's impossible!”

“Naruto you’ll be fine, you’ve worked hard.” A different softer voice spoke out, causing Naruto to jump. Spinning around wildly, he spotted Hinata who had quietly taken her place beside Shikamaru.

“Hinata -chan!”

“I apologize for being late, it took longer than anticipated to get ready.” an embarrassed blush adorned her face as she bowed towards her two friends for her tardiness. Shikamaru waved it off while Naruto looked appalled.

“Don’t apologize Hinata! It’s not your fault the daimyo is using us for advertisement!” It was true, these outfits were a blatant excuse to get the textiles out into the public eye, and what better way to show off your country's goods than to have them paraded around on the most popular attraction. Though as Naruto eyed Hinata’s dress he couldn’t help the irritating though that the Daimyo had requested this specific dress on Hinata for a more lewd reason. Though the dress was far from indecent, the low scooping back and the form-fitted top were far more revealing than anything Naruto had ever seen on his friend.

Old daimyo is just another perv. he thought darkly but he still couldn’t help the thought that she looked really pretty. Naruto was just about to tell her this when a woman stepped forward grabbing Naruto’s arm tightly.

“Naruto-senpai please dance with me!” the young girl Naruto realized was one of the shinobi who had met their squad at the gates of the capital.

“I-”

“Just get on with it. The sooner you do it, the sooner we can leave.” Shikamaru whispered as he shoved Naruto towards the dance floor. Naruto stumbled but caught himself. He turned his head back planning to give Shikamaru a dirty look but stopped when he saw Hinata. Though she was still smiling there was a sad look in her eyes. Belatedly Naruto realized he probably should have asked Hinata for the first dance. After all, she had helped him so much. As he was dragged to the dance floor and could feel his dance partner feeling up his muscles, he couldn’t help but wish it was Hinata in his arms instead.

It had been a few hours and Naruto felt like his feet were going to fall off. He had lost track of how many partners he’d had. It was all the same. Every monotonous move yet it seemed his partners couldn’t get enough, some even fighting for more dances.

Naruto sighed as he spun his latest partner away, waiting for a new one to take her place. Straining his neck he caught sight of Shikamaru’s hair. Since the dancing had begun he’d tried to catch a glimpse of that beacon of spiky hair around the perimeters of the ballroom. It worked every so often but he was disappointed in not spotting long deep blue hair.

He had prayed at some point that Hinata might cut in. Hoping for a reprieve from all these women who only seemed to care that they were seen on his arm. It would have been nice to dance with a friend, someone he could actually talk to. yet it never happened. Still, he needed a break. Stepping back away before the next girl could come up he gave an apologetic grin scratching the back of his head as he did so.

“I’m sorry, but I just spotted someone I need to talk to, please excuse me.”

The girl pouted murmuring that she'd only gotten to dance with Naruto three times but Naruto had already turned away making his way towards his friend.

“Are you ready to call it a night yet?” the Nara asked from his slumped position in his chair. He had acquired the table an hour ago and had been napping ever since. Naruto nodded slumping into a chair of his own. Wincing as his feet screamed in protest over the night's abuse. Though he’d done exceptionally well he had no doubt abused his poor feet. For all the teaching and practice Hinata had gone through with him he still ended up tripping a time or two. though the biggest abuse was in the form of some of his dance partners accidentally stepping on them in their heeled dress shoes. Yes, Naruto was ready to call it a night if it meant soaking his poor feet.

“Then go grab Hinata-chan so we can get out of here,” Shikamaru said stretching out as he did so.

“Where is she?” Naruto asked turning once more to catch a peek of her.

“No surprise you haven’t seen her, all the women clustered around you while all the men have been circling her. She’s in the middle of that crowd over there.” Shikamaru pointed to the other side of the room where it seemed an equally large crowd had gathered. And true to his words right there in the middle was Hinata, dancing with some man.

“Why didn’t you help Hinata-chan?!” Naruto accused glaring at the man already settling in for a nap again.

“It’s too troublesome to get involved, besides unlike you she’s actually enjoying it.” Naruto was surprised by these words. Standing up he ignored the pain he felt as he looked closer at the scene.

Sure enough, Hinata looked like she was having the time of her life, her eyes were half-closed and there was a healthy blush adorning her cheeks though not from embarrassment but from all of the activity. Her hair had come loose at some point in the evening and it followed behind her in a mesmerizing dance of its own. Naruto could only watch in awe as Hinata was swept around the floor matching her partner step by step. It had looked as though the two had been dancing together all of their lives. Like they had been born to be each other’s partner.

“They're a handsome couple.” an older woman spoke near him, nodding her head toward the couple. her friend agreed, speaking up herself.

“That is the Hyuga heiress from the leaf village, Lord Souta would do well to ask for her match.”

Naruto frowned at the two women gossiping. Match? Why would Hinata fight that guy, he’s obviously not shinobi.

Idiot Kurama murmured but Naruto ignored it. Choosing instead to make his way through the crowd to get to Hinata. As he came to the center of the growing circle he watched as the dance came to a close. Lord Souta or whoever it was had just dipped Hinata low. All around him, people gasped in delight at the display but Naruto could only frown. This didn’t look like anything Hinata had taught him. This was obviously a different dance, one that only someone with more skill could do. As if to give the crown one final trick Souta spun Hinata, having her twirl out away from him as far as their joined hands would allow. Hinata was so close to Naruto he suddenly had an urge to take her and run. However, he was frozen in place, Hinata was breathtaking. There was no other way to describe it, Naruto couldn’t think of a time where she looked so relaxed and happy.

Something about that hurt Naruto deeply but he couldn’t understand why. He was happy that Hinata was enjoying herself and was feeling comfortable enough to show him and everyone around them her passion. But still, something bothered Naruto. He watched as the final notes to the song ended, Lord Souta pulled Hinata back toward him as if there was a magnetic force pulling the two back together. Hinata spun effortlessly back into the man’s chest clutching his shirt as she was breathing heavily.

The audience cheered.

Naruto couldn’t help his eyes narrowing at the man’s hands, who had clasped them against the small of Hinata’s back. Bunching the fabric together. Naruto was about to tell him off when Hinata finally seemed to realize their audience. To everyone’s surprise, her blush grew as she went to step back. Souta released her just enough to let her have some breathing room.

“Thank you for the dance, Lady Hinata. It was a pleasure.”

“T-thank you, I enjoyed it very much.”

“We must dance again soon.” Lord Souta smiled gently as he bowed towards the woman, taking her hand before she could walk away and kissing it. Hinata, Naruto was shocked to see didn’t faint, or freak out over this instead she gave the man a dazzling smile before nodding her head.

“I would like that very much Lord Souta, thank you.” Both dancers ignored the gossiping whispers as they moved back away from each other. Before any other guy could ask Hinata to dance Naruto snaked through the rest of the crowd. Grabbing her hand pulling her with him gently.

“N-Naruto- kun?!” Hinata felt surprised at seeing the blonde. She had been trying to spot him all night but was unable to, due to the masses that surrounded him. Naruto just smiled down at her, his grin stretched across his face.

“Hinata-chan it’s getting late and Shikamaru is ready to go to bed. I’m sorry I had to interrupt you but-”

“No, it’s fine Naruto-kun. I was getting tired myself and we are leaving early in the morning to head out to the next village.”

“Still, I hate to make you leave. You looked great out there Hinata-chan! I had no idea you liked to dance so much-ttebayo!”

Hinata felt like she was in heaven, Naruto was actually complimenting her. Still, Hinata tried to calm herself down.

“Thank you Naruto-kun. I had to learn many dances as a daughter of the head of the Hyuga clan. It's believed that dancing helps to create relationships and bonds with others all around the world. Like tonight with Lord Souta, he has many trade deals with the Hyuga.”

“Oh, so you are friends with that guy?”

“Well, we’ve met before. However, tonight was the first time we were able to speak freely amongst ourselves. He was able to talk to me about a special rare herb he has been cultivating in his gardens. I offered to make some special salves using those herbs with the promise that we could keep bundles of the herbs ourselves.”

“Wow, you were able to make trade negotiation while dancing, that's impressive Hinata-chan.”

“W-well that happened during our first couple of waltzes together. The last dance though was to a song from his country and so we couldn’t really speak. The dance is so fast-paced.”

Naruto faltered in his steps for a millisecond before continuing. By now they were close to the table to grab Shikamaru.

“Haha, I thought that dance looked a little more complicated than what you taught me,” Naruto said with a forced laugh. Hinata stifled a yawn as they woke Shikamaru up once more, humming in agreement to Naruto.

“Yes, it’s a bit more advanced, I don’t often get a chance to practice it.”

Later, long after they had left the party, and walked Hinata back up to her room. Naruto laid awake thinking about the events of the evening and everything Hinata had mentioned. He tossed and turned, kicking the blankets off of him as he stared up at the ceiling. Something was still bothering him. Something that he couldn’t figure out. It was only after the image of Lord Souta’s hands clutching around Hinata's waist jarred him out of a fitful sleep did Naruto realize what the problem was.

It wasn't the fact that he didn't like the guy.

It wasn't the fact that he wasn't as skilled a dancer as the guy.

It wasn't even the fact that Hinata repeatedly danced with the guy.

It was the fact that Naruto wanted to be the only guy that Hinata danced with.

#naruto uzumaki #naruhina fic #hinata hyuga #hinata hyuga fic #naruto fanfiction #naruhina #naruto x hinata

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forthegothicheroine · 3 years

Text

The King in Yellow, 1949

Much of this story is true. Warnings in the tags.

When I had pneumonia in my early teens, my mother brought home an armful of VHS tapes from the library to alleviate my misery. Knowing my snobbish preferences, she had grabbed copies of whatever she found in black and white. I remember something musical that I suspect was Busby Berkeley, I remember Mildred Pierce (a bad choice, as it turned out- the plot includes a young girl dying of pneumonia), and I remember a period piece called The King. I faded in and out of consciousness while I watched it, but it soothed me while I was awake and filled my fever dreams with sparkling images. I could never find it at the library again, nor at Hollywood Video or even early Netflix (once my father got the subscription service where you could order practically every DVD.) It was a bit odd that it seemed to be so obscure, given that it starred old Hollywood legend Ingrid Bergman (and, although I initially forgot it, Marlene Dietrich.) But even big stars make films that fall by the wayside in public memory, and it seemed that this was one of them. Google was no help, and at the time that was that.

I didn’t see the film again until I was watching Turner Classic Movies at my grandparents’ house. I loved watching that channel with them while filling out the crossword puzzle that came in their little TCM catalogue (all of it based on movie trivia, the only kind of crossword puzzle I’ve ever been any good at.) I recognized a certain scene where Bergman stood on a balcony, looking sadly at the moon. Her face had an expression of unutterable melancholy, and the crescent moon reflected in each of her eyes, giving the impression of two moons in one sky. I had very little time to catch up on what I’d missed before we had to go meet my cousins at the local Italian restaurant. I knew logically that the movie would be long over by the time we returned, but I turned on the channel anyway. Of course it had moved on to the lesser known Alfred Hitchcock film Stage Fright, but then I heard Marlene Dietrich sing before I could reach the remote to turn the tv off in disappointment. I knew that I had heard her sing before, and I knew it had been in The King.

Dietrich’s singing often comes across as somewhat campy today, with its Rs pronounced as Ws and it’s up-and-down tone. Madeline Kahn parodied it brilliantly in Blazing Saddles, such that it was a bit of a disappointment when I finally saw Dietrich’s western Destry Rides Again and found it to be lifeless and inconsistent next to the parody. Still, we remember her voice for a reason, and when I remembered it that night, I knew that its sardonic loneliness had rung through The King and made me shiver in my dreams.

The TCM schedule didn’t list The King in its time slot, but something else. If I had taken down the name, maybe it would have helped me find it. Sometimes the same movie runs under multiple names.

I didn’t see the film all the way through for many years, after I graduated college. I had found a web page that listed public domain film noir, including one called The Masked Guest. The website described it as a costume noir, and I curiously clicked on the link. Once I took in the credits running on the youtube window, my eyes grew wide and I did not move from my place on the bed until the movie had run its course.

The credits did indeed list it as The Masked Guest, but I recognized the strange repeating design on the title cards. They told me that in addition to starring Dietrich and Bergman, it was directed by Fritz Lang, and a character called The King was credited to “???” (I hadn’t seen that kind of credit since the first Karloff Frankenstein.) When the King finally appears on screen, though, it is unmistakably Orson Welles’s voice that booms out from behind his elaborate costume.

Here are the things I understand about The King, or The Masked Guest, or The Man in Yellow, or any other title I’ve found for it on public domain archive searches. Dietrich and Bergman play princesses named Cassilda and Camilla, respectively. Though Dietrich’s accent is German and Bergman’s is Swedish, they blend together to give the film the impression of being set somewhere on the map that I can’t quite find. The scenery and camera angles are very Freudian, with a great deal of archways and pillars.

The first act of The King involves frankly dull romantic plotlines, and the only thing that really saved it was the feeling that the suitors were supposed to be insipid, a suspicion lended credence by the fact that the love interests were listed so low on the credits. Dietrich is the scandalous sister and Bergman is the responsible one, though each takes on aspects of the other as the film goes on. Dietrich sings her song at a party, dressed in a fake 17th century gown and leaning against a piano. Although just a moment ago she had been laughing and joking with her gentleman friends, her song takes an abruptly serious tone (not seductive, not sentimental) as she tells the story of a city lost to time and memory. Bergman slips away from the party and onto the balcony, where we see that wonderful shot of the moon in her eyes. Is she mourning? Is she longing?

Dietrich cuts off the song by abruptly screaming “Not on us, King! Not on us!” She flees the party weeping and shaking, and from there on the film goes mad.

Though uncommon, it is not unknown for movies to switch between black and white and color, done most famously in The Wizard of Oz. The film The King recalls here is the silent Phantom of the Opera, which had a masqued ball scene tinted in shades of red and green that tried to provide a whole spectrum of color. The effect is even odder in the masqued ball scene in The King- the only color that appears is yellow, highlighting things like candlelight, Dietrich’s hair, a passing gown, a vase of tulips. It also highlights one particular masked figure, whose expressionless mask was decorated with a black pattern against a sickening yellow canvas- the same pattern I had seen in the opening credits. The color of his costume causes him to stand out from the crown even when he is far off in the background, just one head among many others. It must have taken long and painstaking hours of work to color in every frame.

Dietrich still seems broken up days after her song, though Bergman tries to coax her into joining the dance. Finally, at midnight, Dietrich goes out to face the party, but only to demand that every guest remove their mask. The yellow man with a voice that once warned America about a Martian invasion tells her that he wears no mask. Bergman reacts with disbelief, but Dietrich starts laughing like a woman unhinged. As she laughs, the yellow hue seeps out of the King’s clothing and face- if that really is his face- and begins to color the entire ballroom crowd. I think that what follows is bloodshed, but if there is any carnage (doubtful under the Production Code censorship), the blood must be tainted yellow and splashed across the camera like daubs of paint. Dietrich’s laughing face is doubled and tripled on screen until it dissipates, but even when it has faded offscreen, it feels as if her ghost continues to watch the proceedings.

By the end of the scene (filled with German Expressionist camera angles and mad violin screeching), only Bergman remains alive, cowering behind a grandfather clock. It does not hide her for long. The King steps towards her and extends his hand. Reluctantly, but with a fatalistic expression, Bergman takes his hand. They walk away together hand in hand. The screen shifts back into black and white, and then the credits roll before we can get a good look at all the bodies in the scene. The credits say it was based on a play called The King in Yellow, although Raymond Chandler of all people apparently had a hand in the screenplay.

As I said, that’s what I think I understand. It’s an oddly experimental art film for the era, and it may be awaiting rediscovery by the film festival crowd. I feel as if I alone know about it, though that obviously isn’t true. It is my little secret; I tell myself that my husband doesn’t need me to show it to him, it would be too odd for his taste. I’ve rewatched it many times, even if it seems like each time I search for it I have to find a different video platform or torrent. Naturally, no subscription site has it available. Maybe I am the last person who will ever watch it. Maybe no one will ever think to look for it again after me, and it will be completely forgotten.

When I was hospitalized, they let me use my laptop at night before I went to sleep (no power cord, though, in case I tried to hang myself.) I found a youtube link for The Man in Yellow, and I watched it every night. It wasn’t a soothing sort of movie, but having it in my mind all day and then watching it in the evening allowed me to think as opposed to crying endlessly while the other patients shot me awkward looks. I clutched the childhood stuffed animals my mother brought me when she visited, and I always held them extra tight when the masquerade scene started.

I watched the movie when I had to move away from my beloved San Francisco. I watched the movie when I lost the last of my grandparents. I watched the movie when a doctor unwisely took me off my medication and I couldn’t manage to eat for a month. I watched the movie when the whole world got sick and we all locked ourselves away from each other. I don’t mind that I don’t entirely know what it means. I don’t mind the nightmares. In the hospital they kept telling us about mindfulness exercises, and maybe the fact that I can focus on every aspect of the film so closely that all else falls away is the reason I keep coming back to it. I’m being mindful. I’m not letting any stray thoughts invade my head. I’m just watching and waiting for the next beat of every scene, leading inexorably to that yellow-stained bloodbath.

Streaming media doesn’t last forever, and each time I find The King, I worry that it will be the last time I ever can find it. My efforts to download it have so far been unsuccessful, odd considering that it is in the public domain.

When I watch The King, I am once again a child in my bedroom being cared for in the throes of agonizing sickness. I am once again sitting on the couch with my grandparents in front of the tv, both of them alive and lucid again. I am once again in the hospital, all alone except for my stuffed animals and the staff trying to keep me alive. The film reflects in my eyes like the crescent moon in Ingrid Bergman’s gaze. It sings to me.

I am determined to find a way to obtain The King under any name so that I never have to worry about losing it. During some of the worst times in my life, it is the only thing that has kept me sane.

#the king in yellow #cw mental illness #cw disordered eating #cw institutionalization #cw suicide

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flowersbby · 3 years

Text

Star Struck | Corpse Husband x Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Swearing (If I’m missing any let me know please! :) )

a/n: You’re a model/ streamer in this one! :D I’m thinking about if I should turn this into a series or not? Lmk what you think. I hope you like it <3

It was a nice morning. The sun was shining through the tall windows that showed you a view of your balcony onto your bed, there was a slight breeze so it wasn’t too hot, and you could hear the birds chirping with the occasional honking due to LA traffic. The only reason you woke up was because the sun was shining right in your face. You groaned and put a pillow over your face. I really don’t want to get up right now. Just a few more minutes.. You thought and right as you were about to take the pillow off your face and turn over onto your other side so you could go back to sleep, your phone started ringing. “Ugh!” You groaned once again and reached for your phone that was on your nightstand. You looked at the caller ID and saw that it was your manager, Chris. You accepted the call and put the phone to your ear. “What do you want?” You asked in an annoyed and tired tone. You were definitely NOT a morning person. You hated mornings.

“Oh my God,” He said in a rushed tone, “Have you literally JUST woken up? You have a photoshoot in 2 hours! Makeup and wardrobe are waiting for you down here!” Your eyes widened. You completely forgot about it.

“I-I’ll be right there!” You told him and hung up. You sprang out of bed and almost ran to your walk in closet, your eyes scanning for a top that would match the black leather skirt you wanted to wear for the day. You decided on a black mesh body suit with a black crop top under it. All black today. like your soul. You quickly put on some black heels and brushed your hair, cringing at how the brush tugged on your hair when it reached a knot. You didn’t bother doing your makeup since your makeup team would take it off anyway. You fast walked to the door of your apartment, grabbed your purse off the hook, and opened your door to leave to your photoshoot.

🖤🖤🖤

After a lot of yelling from Chris for holding the makeup and wardrobe team up, you did your photoshoot and got to go home. When you got home, you took a mirror picture of your outfit and uploaded it to Instagram, putting the caption as “Fashionably Late 🖤💋”. You smiled at the influx of likes right as it posted. You were truly lucky to have your supporters, but you wanted one person in particular to see it.

Corpse’s POV

I was casually playing Among Us with my friends while they streamed when I felt my phone vibrate slightly on my lap. I began to feel anxious to check my phone since I only have notifications on for one person but I didn’t want to take my eyes off the screen since I was following Jack, who I was sus of. Right when him and I entered electrical, he broke my neck. I felt relieved though since I got to finally look at (y/n)’s post.

My eyes widened when I saw the picture of her outfit. She looked good. Very good. I double tapped on it and immediately went to the comment section out of curiosity of what other people were saying. I looked at all the comments saying how pretty she was and smiled, but the comments made by creepy people made my blood boil. I wish I could just reply to them and say “That’s my girl. Stop.” but we both agreed to keep our relationship out of the public eye and I was truly fine with that. I just wish I could protect her from the creeps out there.

I wasn’t even paying attention to the game until I suddenly saw “Victory” appear on my screen. “Let’s goooo!” I said into the mic. Everyone else was celebrating as well.

“Hey!” Rae exclaimed, “Let’s get (y/n) in here, she just got home.” My heart skipped a beat and I smiled.

“Yes!” I said a little too excited. Everyone else didn’t notice it though and agreed with me. I quickly texted her out of excitement.

Your POV

After receiving an invite from Rae and booting up your computer, as well as getting everything prepared to stream, you got a text from Corpse. You quickly grabbed your phone to respond back to whatever he said.

My Love 😊💖💖

im so excited to hear your voice

i’ve missed you

You blushed at his messages. You thought about what to text back for a minute until you figured out what to say.

You

I have so much to tell you from today

I missed you so much bb

ft later?

You set your phone back on your desk and loaded up Among Us, joining the discord call while you wait. You were greeted by everyone as you joined.

“(Y/n)! Good noon!” Greeted Rae. You smiled as everyone in the call erupted in hello’s.

“Hey, (y/n).” Corpse said after everyone else had their chance to greet you.

Your stomach did backflips from him just saying your name. “Hi~” You said in a sing songy voice and started streaming. “How are all you guys doing?” You asked as your picked up your water from your desk and started drinking.

“Good now that you’re here..” Corpse muttered. You choked on your water and erupted in coughing, taken aback from what he said. Good thing your were muted.

“Corpse?!” Yelled Poki.

“What did you say?!” Also yelled Felix. The rest were just erupting in Aw’s.

“U-uh,” Corpse stuttered, “I meant that because (y/n) is such a good imposter and I’ve been a little off my game today so I’m hoping we get imposter together so I have some content for a video.” Good cover up.. You thought as your coughing got under control. I think he forgot to mute himself.

“Yeah!” You exclaimed, “We got this my dude!” You took a glance at chat and saw everyone going crazy. Half of them were typing in all caps asking for someone to clip that moment, and half were shipping you and corpse.

“I can only play one game anyway,” Corpse said, “I have stuff to do.” You frowned at what he said. You haven’t gotten to talk with him all day because of how rushed you were this morning and now you won’t have time to talk with him now because of how different your schedules are. Even though you two loved each other a lot you have had your arguments about this with him. You hate that he lives two hours from you or else this wouldn’t be an issue. You would be over at his house everyday if he lived in LA. You hated long distance.

You had a great time playing with your friends, but when Corpse left you got a little gloomy. He wasn’t answering your texts either. You sighed and changed into his hoody he left in your closet when he visited last and put on some grey pajama shorts. You tied your hair into a messy bun so it wouldn’t get in your way for the rest of the night even though you were just going to watch Netflix in your bed and eat chips. After grabbing your snacks, you walked to your bedroom and opened the glass door to the balcony in your room, turned your LED lights to (f/c), got comfortable in your bed, and turned on your favorite show on your TV.

You were scrolling through Instagram as you heard a knock at your door. A scared feeling washed over you and you paused what you were doing. It was like you were frozen in time and if you made one sudden movement everything would come crashing down. They knocked again. You were scared that some crazed fan found your address to your apartment. Cautiously, you walked to your door and looked through the peek hole. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and a wide grin appeared on your face as you saw who it was. You quickly unlocked your door and opened it. You wasted no time and grabbed Corpse’s face and kissed him with so much passion you didn’t want to stop. He lifted you up and held your thighs in his hands, walking into your apartment and shutting the door with his foot. “I’ve missed you so much baby.” He breathed as he kept kissing you.

You pulled away from the heated session and Corpse carefully placed you on your feet. You hugged him. “I missed you too.” You said and didn’t want to let go. Corpse placed a kiss on your head as he hugged you and rubbed your back. You realized something and pulled away from the hug. “Where’s your stuff?” Noticing he didn’t have a suitcase.

He looked at you with a blank expression. “Fuuuckk....” He groaned. “I forgot it.”

You looked at him confused. “How do you forget your stuff. It’s a two hour drive here!” You laughed.

He scratched the back of his neck embarrassed. “I really missed you and I was excited to surprise you,” He explained. “I didn’t want to get here late and have you asleep so I didn’t even think about packing.”

You smiled. “Well, at least you have a ton of clothes here you’ve left.”

He smirked, looking at his hoodie on your body. “Yeah, I see that.”

You smirked back at him, turned around, and began to walk back into your bedroom, wanting him to follow you. Corpse quickly swept you off your feet and put you over his shoulder, plopping you on the bed as he got on top of you. He looked into your eyes. “I’m tired.” He muttered.

“Let’s cuddle then, baby.” You smile. He smiles back at you tiredly as he moves off you to be the big spoon, pulling you against him by wrapping his arm around your waist. You felt happy in that moment. You finally got to be with the only man who loves you for you physically, instead of two hours away. You both fell asleep, taking in this moment.

#corpse #corpse x reader #corpse husband #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x you #corpse husband x y/n

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sugiwa · 3 years

Text

small dreams

It took one 27 second long video for Keigo to fall in love

The video looped through every news cycle, and each reaction varied from outright derision to almost mythical awe emerging. On YouTube, it was viral in fifty-three different countries and Starburst—a name derived from a candy company that the pro-hero was fond of—jokingly tweeted that she was more famous than All-Might.

And she might have been thanks to the reporter that not only caught her decking the father of a girl she just saved but also recorded the subsequent twenty-seven seconds it took for three police officers to pull her off him and pull her away. The peace sign Y/N threw up as the police led her into a car probably didn’t help, nor did the live stream of her twenty-four hours in a holding cell while they investigated her claim of the man’s abuse and finally released her.

Though there were news outlets that tried to pin Starburst down as a hero on the edge of villainy, her public reputation hadn’t taken any damage. It was hard, after all, to claim that she did the wrong thing when they heard the girl’s testimony and pulled her medical records. But, Starburst—or L/N Y/N—still faced punishment from the Hero Public Safety Commission despite all this.

Attacking an unarmed civilian was apparently a big no-no—even if he was an abusive asshole. She was spared having her license revoked until she retested the simple principle that she had refrained from using her quirk. Her sentence was lessened to a month-long suspension with a strict patrol schedule in some city near Tokyo.

Y/N could work with it. She could put up with the Commission’s inane chatter for the sake of her job, but she drew the line at issuing an apology. It took three hours to wiggle her way out of a press conference to address the event. By the time her meeting with the Commission and sentencing was done, Y/N retweeted the initial video with the caption: Totally worth it.

Keigo was slightly in love with Starburst. Maybe it was the way she strolled into the Hero Public Safety Commission building fresh out of handcuffs and bluntly told them that she wasn’t apologizing and would rather become a vigilante than listen to ten more minutes of them debating the future of her career.

Or maybe it was the video which he’d seen a hundred times over, where she looked like a hero. The kind he’d always dreamed of as a kid, the kind who swooped in and beat the bad guy and then offered you stickers and candy and told you everything would be alright because it was exactly what she’d done for that little girl.

Either way, L/N Y/N was a hero who deserved a little rest, which was why he was currently tailing her patrol route and taking care of the problems before she could move. Her quirk was right out of a comic book too. The golden energy that left her capable of issuing an instant KO.

“Will you leave me alone?” she snapped, finally turning around to glare at him. She had a warm face, not made for anger which was probably why the glare fell away a moment later, replaced by a smile. “I appreciate the help, but I’m not offering any fanservice in exchange.”

“Who said I was a fan?” His wings flapped, feathers flying back toward him.

“You regularly stalk girls mid-air? That sort of thing does not fly with me.” Y/N laughed, nose scrunching at her own joke. “Get it…cause we both fly….”

He smiled innocently, “Thought of that all on your own?”

Y/N groaned, twisting her earring, “Just because I didn’t go to a fancy-ass hero school like Wet Jeanist and Flameo Hotman doesn’t mean I’m dumb.”

Slight insulted by the nickname she gave his favorite hero, he asked, “Flameo Hotman? You mean Endeavor-san?”

“Ohhh, that’s a man-crush voice.” Her eyes tightened with mischief, “I’m gonna have to dip since I got a hot date with my credit card. See you later, Chicken Little.”

He watched her go in slight awe because Y/N really was as crazy as the stories said. Starburst was a hero that had a bit of a cult following. She wasn’t high enough in the rankings to be wildly popular the way he was—up until she went viral, that was. A graduate of Ketsubutsu who went on to attend college before actually becoming a hero, she was on a watch list with the Hero Public Safety Commission.

Apparently, non-conformity was an issue…who knew.

A rain of confetti fell over Keigo’s head, brightly colored and all covered in specks of glitter. He inhaled deeply, turning to see Starburst’s grinning face as she eagerly clapped. Endeavor, like always whenever he was forced to be in Starburst’s proximity, turned around and stalked down the hall. Her confetti burned in his wake. Y/N’s voice followed him, offering an empty congratulations to the hero.

“How’s my precious senpai doing?” she asked, turning her attention to him.

“You really know how to annoy him, huh?” asked Keigo staring at the empty hall. If you gave Y/N too much attention, she ran with it. “What’s the deal?”

Y/N shrugged, rolling her shoulders confidently, “Some people are not equipped to handle true talent.”

“Yeah, right,” snorted Keigo.

“I may or may not have drunkenly confessed that I had no idea who he was to a bunch of reporters during last week.” Y/N made a rude gesture with her hand. “I mean, if you’re not Number One, then do you really matter?”

“Harsh,” he ruffled his wings, freeing the last of her glitter confetti and letting it rain on the ground. “You all good with the Commission now?”

“All thanks to you! I owe you one, you know that?”

“Nah,” Keigo waved her off, resisting the urge to laugh as she made her bright eyes as wide as possible. “It was pretty brave of you. Plus, I think anyone would have done the same thing.”

Three months out of trouble, Y/N once again made headlines for ‘accidentally’ dropping a child trafficker off a building. She caught him before he hit the ground, but apparently, the authorities deemed the emotional damage a little extreme.

“They probably would have been a bit smarter about it, though.”

“Well, don’t worry, no one expects you to be the brains.”

Y/N pouted. “True.”

Keigo laughed. “What are you doing here anyway? You’re not in the top ten.”

“Is bullying the new rage these days?” Her pout grew, arms crossing over her chest, “Everyone’s got something snippy to say to me. Where’s Rumi when I need her?”

“Gonna hide behind her?”

“Fuck yeah.” Y/N nodded emphatically as she reached into her pocket for a pack of gum. She offered him a piece. “Let’s see how your chicken wings stand against her legs.”

Keigo looked at the gum and then her. The words slipped out of his mouth before he could stop them, “Wanna get something to eat?”

Her smile looked like the sun, “Thought you’d never ask.”

“So, what’s the deal with you and Dragonbreath?” asked Y/N, sprawling across his couch. It was the third time this week she was here. He should tell her to leave, but the words die in his throat in his mouth every time he tried.

There’s too much risk. Dabi’s listening in on everything he does these days, and he doesn’t want her anywhere near them. Not when he’s aware of what they’re planning. Not when he knows how Y/N would react.

She was rough and improper in everything she does, but there’s no one brighter or better when it came to genuine goodness.

Keigo dodged the question with his own. “Endeavor again?”

“Ran into him last week and got yelled at for ten minutes for getting in his way. The guy was in my path, and I’m the one getting yelled at? Next time, I’m drop-kicking him off his skyscraper.” She kicked her leg in the air, reminding him that she was scarcely dressed.

Was this what having a girlfriend like? Constantly jumping between fondness and horniness? He wasn’t complaining.

He heard this threat a million times. “Still mad about the fact that he has one?”

“I’m a simple country girl. I’d be happy with a peach orchard and some chickens.”

“Come here,” he crooked his finger at her. Y/N got up instantly, crossing the room toward the balcony where he stood. Her hands wrapped around his waist, slipping under his shirt, across his skin, over his chest. Too much and too little at the same time.

“You’ll get cold out here,” she murmured. He could sink in the warmth she offered.

“It’s nice seeing the world so still.”

A noise left her throat, wet and worried, “Hawks, whatever it is, whatever they’re making you do, I’ll be here. I promise.”

People joked about Y/N being dumb—he did it too often to count, but she saw more than most people did when it mattered.

“Why’d you become a hero?”

“Saved a cute boy once, and he gave me a kiss,” she said. He’d heard that story before. She offered it in every interview, never expanding on what boy or how she saved him. It was also a glaring lie.

He didn’t push her. He lied about too many things to count.

Keigo took her face between his hands—the urge to kiss that tiny speck by her eyes thrummed through him. It would take a thousand-thousand years for him to forget her face. Y/N turned, her lips skimming his palm, cold and warm at once.

He loved her because she was Y/N. Because in her, he could love himself and not grow cold from it. Because the numbness he’d always known leaked out in place of affection. He loved her boundlessly—above, below, and across—unhindered, without ill will, without enmity.

It was with her that he was Takami Keigo and not the current Number Two.

His hand cupped her neck, fingers tangling in the curls of her hair. Her lips opened under his. A trail of fire burst across his lips, and for a moment, he only knew the sweetness of her mouth. He drank her in, each breath, each hushed sound leaving her throat.

He would do what they asked and make the choices no one else could.

It was worth the world he dreamed of.

#hawks x reader #takami keigo x reader #hawks x y/n #tamaki Keigo x y/n #bnha x reader #mha x reader #takami keigo #bnha #mha #hawks #mha hawks

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kikilefangirl · 3 years

Text

Finest

Logan Howlett x Reader

(Word Count: 1628)

“This exercise requires you to be self reliant in order to escape. While we are a team in and out of the field, each of you must be comfortable and connected with your gifts, individually.” You called out.

All of your students seemed to be a mix of over confidence, no confidence, or outright fear. You frowned.

A demonstration would be best.

“Pay attention everyone, when the test starts you’ll be on your own.” You told them.

Concentrating on the potential energy around you, you tapped into it with a stream of golden light. You collected a portion of it in your hand, and willed it into a broadsword. The energy hummed through your body as you moved with it, slashing in a downward arc through the air.

“Make your gift work for you in the moment,” With a swift motion the blade morphed into a shield, and then With a breath, you let the energy dissipate into nothing at all.

“And know when not to use it. You’ve got two weeks to prepare. And I’ve opened up office hours everyday up until then. Got it?”

The kids gave enough yeses and nods for you to dismiss them early. Once they were gone, you heard a drawn out huff from the back of the room.

“Logan!” You broke out in a wide smile and ran over to him. You knew better than to hug him, so you opted for a light hit on the shoulder.

“Charles didn’t tell anyone you were coming!” You exclaimed.

“Didn’t tell him.” Logan explained. You rolled your eyes because that was such a Logan thing to do.

Taking him in, you noticed his hair was a little shaggier than the last time you saw him, and his clothes looked like they’d been worn completely down by cold weather. He’d probably been up in the wilderness for all this time.

“I brought you booze. Most people say thank you.”

That was how you and Logan ended up drunk off your asses in your bedroom before dinner.

As a teacher you were given some grace with your room choice, meaning a larger room far away from students. You were free to do whatever and whomever, so long as you kept to yourself.

That was also the reason why you were dancing on Logan in a t- shirt and panties with the music blasting in the background. You felt his hands roam all over your body as you whined to the beat.

He was currently the one with the bottle, too. You drunkenly swirled around and took it from him. The liquor burned down your throat, but the feeling dulled when Logan slammed his lips on yours.

You felt like your body was on fire. Partly from the alcohol, partly from Logan’s hands and his kisses. He had you pinned against the wall farthest from the door, and you couldn’t concentrate on anything but Logan nor he you.

...

You woke the next morning to a hard body intertwined with yours.

Your room was an absolute mess, but you settled on resting your head on Logan’s bare chest. You’d get up later.

Your hair was matted in the back and the hair around your perimeter had reverted back to their coils in spite of the gel you used the day before. Plus, drunk you didn’t wear bonnets.

“Morning.” Logan said. His rough voice was throaty and tired. A pounding headache made you close your eyes and nestle in closer.

You were grateful not to see the two of you together anyway. It was never for long and never more than a fun way to spend time before you went your separate ways.

You and Logan were tumultuous at best.

The last time you saw him you were cussing him out and leaving him stranded in the city after a night out. That was two months ago. Last summer you decided to try dating, but the truth was if it wasn’t one thing, it was another, making the two of you very touch and go.

“I have a class in an hour.” You admitted.

Logan peered down at you. The corners of his lips were down turned, and his eyebrows were knitted together.

“The rug rats can live without you for a day.” He said, pulling you on top of him. You yelped at the sudden movement, but guessed that was an appropriate response to the naked girl lying in bed with him, telling him she was leaving. Even if it was for kids.

“I don’t use sick days on anybody but my mama, my daddy, and my brother.” You explained. You pecked his lips and got up.

“I fit in one category.” Logan said with a satisfied grin. You scoffed at him as you gathered your shower stuff.

“I don’t use sick days on you, Logan. Never have, never will.” You replied with a sarcastic smile.

A frantic banging on your door made both of you go quiet. Logan sniffed the air and snarled.

“It’s pretty boy.” Logan growled out. You huffed in annoyance––between him and Scott (and Jean for that, matter) nothing ever got done unless you did it. It was one of the many reasons Logan was a recurring guest at the mansion and not an occupant.

You swung the door open to a wide eyed, modest Scott, who quickly turned into arrogant, incensed Scott at the sight of a very naked Logan in your bed.

“Not now. What’s going on?” You demanded. Something wasn’t right if Scott was coming to you so early.

Bobby’s name was all he could say.

...

The scene that awaited you at the front door was heartbreaking.

Bobby was pacing up and down the balcony freezing anything he pointed at as he walked past. Blasts of frost shot from his hands in all directions. It was wild and uncontrolled. By the door, what looked like his parents and a brother were shouting his name in frustration. Bobby wasn’t the type to lash out for no reason, he just wasn’t that kid.

“I’m not leaving! This is my home!” Bobby cried out.

You sighed and cut your eyes to the professor, who was ushering children and staff away. A warning would have been nice, Professor.

I do apologize, this was...unexpected.

His voice rang out in your head, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. Beside you, Logan drew his claws, but you put a hand on his chest. Bobby’s parents were clearly afraid of mutants and Logan was a walking stereotype of a scary mutant. Definitely not helpful.

Stepping forward, you used your powers to create a bubble around you and Bobby. Nobody needed to get hurt accidentally.

“Bobby! I need you to listen to me,” You started. The boy looked up at you tearfully, and you could see them freeze as they fell.

You took his hand, that along with the rest of his body fluctuated between ice and flesh, and held it. The cold stung, but he needed to feel your human hand.

“They’re taking me away!” He hollered. You narrowly dodged a blast of frost from your head. You held on tighter.

“I know that isn’t fair, Bobby! I know! But you have to calm down. Breathe, Bobby.” You pleaded with him. The less his parents saw him so out of control, the less likely they would send him to some camp or home for wayward mutants.

You took a deep breath, and Bobby did the same. One after another. In and out.

Slowly, his human form stabilized and his body temperature was so cold you could see his breath. You gave him a hug when his ice hand had fully reverted back to his human one. The boy clung to you for dear life, and you felt horrible for him.

“Bobby, don’t forget what you learned here, and keep in touch. When you need any of us, we’ll be there.” You said softly, pulling out a small coin and a business card. Bobby took it, confused.

“Whenever you don’t feel safe, call the number and the place they tell you to meet, then show them the token. Emergencies only.”

You walked Bobby down to his parents and they left shortly thereafter.

Watching them go sucked all the air out of you, enough for you to lean on Logan. In public. The Professor was next to the two of you.

“You are one of our finest, Y/N.” He said.

“Maybe, but it wasn’t enough.” You countered. You didn’t feel like an educator. You felt like you were fighting a losing battle and not too many of your kids would make it out unscathed.

“Social services could get ‘em.” Logan suggested.

“They might bite if they see a white boy, but the second he goes full icicle, all bets are off.” You lamented the fact that there were very few people looking out for mutant children, and you weren’t going to put Bobby on anyone’s radar unnecessarily.

The Professor nodded, before heading off to deal with the fallout with the student body. It was never easy losing a student in such a way. You weren’t prepared to do that just yet, so the two of you went back to your room.

You stayed in Logan’s arms until dark. It was the first time you and him had a rational understanding about what each of you needed in the moment.

“When I head through the city, I’ll stop by and check on the kid on my way out.” Logan said. You side eyed him.

“Play nice.” You warned. Sometimes cases required a delicacy Logan didn’t have, but his willingness to do it was a new thing for him. Far be it from you to stop him from doing something good. He finally saw how important your job was and how much you cared for your students.

You planted a kiss on his lips. And his nose and his ear and neck, among other things.

“That means I’ve got you at least one more night. Better make it count.”

#logan howlett #black!reader #poc!reader #logan howlett x reader #Logan howlett x black!reader #wolverine #x men fanfiction #x men

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alreadyblondenow · 4 years

Text

And he never heard from her again

▸ Jaehyun x reader ▸ Smut, Angst, Idol au

Summary: As you lay at the hospital bed unconscious, Jaehyun blames himself because of the accident and regrets the time when he took you for granted.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Sex, sex, car accident, major character loss (that spoils everything but you’ve been warned), possessiveness, making of sex tape, mentions of multiple sex tapes, swearing, mentions of other idols, unprotected sex, mentions of alcohol, Jaehyun accidentally hurts the reader. Click away if any of the warnings makes you uncomfortable.

A/N: PURE FICTION! Enjoy another idol au from me.

Wet.

Minty.

Cold.

“Wake up sleepy head” your boyfriend spreads wet kisses around your exposed skin. Anything he could reach, your neck, your thighs, your lips. It feels good to be showered with love first thing in the morning but you shrug him off and pull the blanket over your head because you want to sleep more. “I’m sorry to disturb your sleep princess, but it’s time to go now” you smell his fresh breath near your face. And when you finally meet his eyes, your boyfriend is all dressed up, ready to start his schedules for today.

“Oh Jung Jaehyun, you have worn me out last night” you whine but you force yourself to wake up. Jaehyun is looking at your morning face and naked body, admiring the beauty of his girlfriend. “No shower sex today?” he gave you a good morning kiss and chuckled at your question.

“No, sleeping beauty. If only you got up a little early then, yeah we could have. But, you were sleeping so soundly I couldn’t wake you up. Now come on, have breakfast with me before the van arrives with my manager” he offers you his hand to help you get up, giving you his robe to cover yourself.

It was your second anniversary last night and you two had dinner in one of the fanciest restaurants in Seoul. The food was amazing as expected, Jaehyun picked a fine wine which made you two a little buzzed and ended up in his house and had crazy anniversary sex to end the night.

Dating a very famous kpop star like Jaehyun is not a walk in the park. But loving each other and giving the relationship a chance is always worth it. The busy schedule is something you and Jaehyun always fight about, but as you two keep on holding on you both managed your busy schedules and always meet each other halfway just so you can spend time with each other. Who would have thought that believing that your relationship could work brought you two deeper into loving each other?

After you had your shower, Jaehyun booked you a cab to make sure you get home safely. You see, even for Jaehyun, watching you leave every morning is something he really hates. “Call me when you’re home okay? I’ll pick up, I’m having my makeup done by that time” he kissed you deeply and passionately before he opens the door for you and watches you get inside the cab.

Soon, the white van appears in front of his house and Jaehyun said goodbye to his family thanking them once again for letting you and him crash for the night. His family always adored you, they love you even more because you take care of their dear Jaehyun and secretly hoping that it’s going to be the two of you in the end.

When Jaehyun is all settled and getting his make up done for NCT’s schedule for today, his phone rang and it was a call from you. Finally, he thought, his mood changed from quiet to giggly because you did not forget to call him. “I’m guessing you missed me already, that’s why you called?” he answers with a smile, the members beside him tease him continuously. He needed to gesture a ’shh’ sign because he can’t hear you.

“I’m sorry Mr. Jung but this is not Ms. Y/n. She got into a car accident this morning and we can’t reach anyone from her family. She is rushed to the Asan Medical Center. Your number is the only local number we could find if you could please-“

The shocking news made Jaehyun drop his phone and ran to his manager, asking him to please let him go to the hospital to see you. Jaehyun was desperate but the managers can’t let him go just like that. Spotting a kpop star inside a hospital can make a whole nation buzz, of course, they won’t let Jaehyun go to you. There are tears in his eyes as he imagines you alone and unconscious in a hospital bed while the members are trying to help him compose himself and tells him to be strong but Jaehyun was only quick to blame himself and cry some more. “This is all my fault”

Twenty five months ago

Jung Jaehyun is mighty handsome.

The office is having an exclusive party at an open space rooftop bar. The party was not like any loud party, it's a party where people still talk about business and meet possible clients for the future. And meeting Jung Jaehyun and the other members of NCT 127 and their manager, is part of the purpose of this party.

And again, Jung Jaehyun is might handsome.

“How long have you been in the marketing industry?” he asks, leaning on the glass balcony with you. Looking at the wonderful view of Seoul.

“Long enough to be established?” you chuckled because you don’t want to sound so boastful with your life achievements.

For a minute it was an exchange of words, a decent conversation that’s in between being professional and being friends, but it soon turned to lowkey flirting and exchanging of glances. He tells you what’s on his mind, you listen and feel your heart skip a beat every time he look into your eyes and smile. “Can I be frank?” he licks his lips and drank from his bottle of beer, “I find you attractive and I want to keep talking to you and I want to know what you think about me- and don’t you dare lie, please”

You let out a scoff and smiled at him shyly, “Well, Jung Jaehyun you’re incredibly handsome. That has been going on through my head since I saw you earlier and you’ve been making my heart skip a beat for the last few minutes”

Satisfied with your answer, he came closer to you slowly. Like your bodies are magnets. You’re sure that the place isn’t quiet but this small space that you share with Jaehyun is dead silent. Only his breaths and yours are the only ones you can hear. Having this kind of moment with Jaehyun is kind of magical like you’re a princess who just met his destined prince in a ball.

The friendly and flirty conversation became something even more when Jaehyun became too bold with telling you how he wanted to end this night with you, when he pressed his cold bottle of beer just above your knee and when he starts caressing your shoulder like he’s not on a public place. You’re not stupid to see that he’s after having a one night stand with you. One thing led to another and the next thing you know is you’re back at your apartment, kissing Jaehyun on your couch with a long forgotten bottle of wine on the coffee table. It’s not right to sleep with your clients but nobody needs to know.

Jaehyun kissed you down on your couch, unbuttoning his dress shirt and revealing his abs to you. Your hands automatically roamed around his body and you feel him smile in between kissing you passionately. “You’re so handsome” you whisper, and guided his hand under your dress, he got the message and finger fucked you while you remove your clothes and bra, leaving your panties on to tease the handsome man kissing you.

“I’ll take you out on a date, I promise,” he says while unbuckling his belt, removing his pants and boxers brief.

Wow. He’s big. And he has a dick of a porn star, his pubic hair is so sexy and- “Oh-“ he devours your neck, biting and nibbling your ear making you giggle and laugh while your bodies grind on each other. “So this is not a one time thing?” you moan out and he stopped upon hearing your words. “What? No. Let’s see where this goes” his face was so close to yours and you can’t stop your smile because you couldn’t believe you scored Jung Jaehyun. Is this a dream?

“What’s that smile, hmm?” he nuzzles your neck and kisses it softly. You touch his dimples and lips but he’s quick to catch your hand with his mouth and kiss it. “I’m just a person who happens to be not immune by your charms. I’m not kissing you as a kpop star now, I’m kissing you as Jaehyun” he continues to spread kisses around your neck, down to your left boob, and suck it for some time.

“Can I remove your panties?” he asks oh so sweetly.

“Of course” you answer with a kiss and feel him remove your underwear without breaking the kiss. Once fully exposed, you feel his slender fingers play with your slit before he goes in finally, the tip of his cock making you jolt for a bit. You hear Jaehyun grunt and watch as his eyes close and part his lips as he pushes inside you slowly “Fuck” Jaehyun went straight to the point and fucks you deeply. Bodies to bodies while listening to each other’s breaths.

You had sex for the first time on your couch on the night you two first met.

Present time

“Just sign here please, then your transaction is complete”

For the third time in the past two months, Jaehyun has been paying your hospital bills and has been taking care of you, while your family is finalizing some heavy paperwork before flying to Seoul. Not that he’s thankful for the awful accident, but the accident had become the way for Jaehyun to finally meet your family even if it’s through a video call. Jaehyun promised your parents to take care of everything while waiting for them and that he’ll gladly pay for the hospital bills and refuse to take your parent’s cash.

It’s been two months since the accident and every day without you is consistent torture for Jaehyun. As long as you’re not awake, he will never stop worrying for you. It doesn’t matter if he overworked himself to save money for the bills, as long it saves you he’s up for it.

Ever since the accident, Jaehyun and the other members help him look after you at the hospital. Of course, the members are worried about Jaehyun’s emotional state as they are worried about your condition. They made sure that you two get the emotional and physical support that you and Jaehyun need. SM managers were all nice and helped Jaehyun with everything they can just so your boyfriend can see you every day.

It was not an easy fight for Jaehyun, but the people around him take care of him, while he takes care of you.

“The other two victims from the accident passed away this morning” Jaehyun informs Johnny as the two sit quietly near you. Watching his girlfriend on a hospital bed is a different kind of pain. He misses you a lot.

“Don’t overthink dude. She will be fine” to be honest Johnny doesn’t know how to comfort his friend.

As Jaehyun takes Johnny’s advice, he reminisces about the memories that he had with you. Everything, from happy memories to sad and awful ones. Regretting the times that he took you for granted and promised over and over again that if he’s given a second chance to love you, he will love you right this time.

“I wished for this accident to happen Johnny. It’s my fault” Jaehyun blurted out.

Johnny was shocked to the core and stopped what he’s doing with his phone, “What the fuck?”

Jaehyun told Johnny the story about the biggest fight you two had during the months when you were just a new couple. So new that your work schedules irritate the both of you and all you two did was have sex and forget the problem. The cycle went on and on until you had enough and you wanted to break up with him.

Five months of being together

In the middle of having dinner with Jaehyun in a private restaurant, you finally told him what you’ve been keeping inside your heart. “This will never work, Jae” he turned silent and pretends that he’s not hearing you and you find it disrespectful. He was smiling the whole time, asking you what do you want for dessert and pour you a glass of wine like there's nothing wrong.

“I’ll cut ties with you starting tonight Jae, and that’s my final decision” you wiped your lip with the table napkin and stand up from your seat.

“Wait- baby, okay I’m sorry” he stopped you from opening the door, pull you in an embrace and everything turned silent again. You still love him, but staying in this relationship is hurting both of you so you had to take the first step and leave. As usual, Jaehyun uses his charms to get away from the situation. He kisses your neck and tells you sweet things that will lead you to having sex with him in this room. But not anymore, you thought.

“Enough Jaehyun. Please stop” you begged him to stop kissing your neck. Slowly, you feel his embrace crushing you and hurting you. You try so hard to push him away but Jaehyun is naturally strong that whatever you do to push him away is nothing.

Eventually, he lets go and tell his sorry. “I’ll change, I swear”

“No-“

“Stop making it complicated!” he punched the door and the loud sound surrounds the small room making you scared of him. He was turning red and his eyes were full of anger like he’s about to hurt you.

“I want to leave-“

“Well, I hope you get into an accident” he opens the door for you, pushing you out of the room because he’s so angry he’s actually afraid he might hurt you.

The breakup did not push through because Jaehyun went to your apartment to ‘fix’ things, three days after the fight. He apologized with all his heart, telling you he’s sorry and that he won't do it again. He promised to change his ways and love you even more in exchange for taking him back to your life and give him a second chance. Apologies are nothing if a person will always do it again. It’s up to you if it’s still healthy to take him back into your life. And of course, you have a weak spot when it comes to Jaehyun. You love the man. And he loves you. He just sucks at showing it.

Now that Jaehyun is on his sixth chance, the change that you’ve been yearning for and the change that he promised is long forgotten. Days, weeks, and months passed by, you and Jaehyun still fight like crazy because of different reasons that piss you both. May it be jealousy, he stood you up on a date, you forgot that he’s going to visit you in your apartment, Jaehyun has no time for you, or you don’t want to have sex but he’s really horny.

“I had a company dinner tonight, baby I thought you understand that part?” you whine in frustration while you remove your watch and your earrings. Listening to Jaehyun as he shouts at you, telling you that he’s tired from practice but he still chose to visit you, only to find out that you’re not home. He kept on yelling his points and arguments, hurting you with words that you’ve heard him say before but still sounds like you’ve just heard them tonight.

“I waited for hours! If my career is ruined because of you, I swear!-“

“I can ruin your career in one click, Jaehyun. Do you want me to post all of our sex videos?” you finally bite back because you can't stand him already.

“Post all you want my fans will be happy seeing my dick but you, you will get all the hate in the world!”

“Fine then!” you threaten him of actually posting it, scrolling through your gallery to find your favorite video with him. “Ah! This!” you picked the video where Jaehyun was spitting on your boobs while two fingers are inside your mouth and his cock is inside you. He was wildly flirting with the camera like a porn star. His fans will not doubt that he is the guy from the video.

“Stop it. I mean it” he tried grabbing your phone but you’re quick to counter his move. For a minute, it became a violent push and pull that made him use his strength on you which is not fair. He threw your phone so hard on the nearest wall that it cracked and the screen got broken. He didn’t notice that he pushed you way too hard that you landed on the floor face first and made you bruise your face.

“Fuck- let's stop this, baby I’m sorry” he let out his frustration.

“DON'T TOUCH ME! GET OUT!” you shouted so loud that you’re sure you hurt his ears. You slapped him so hard on the face when he came close to help you get up. He took it like a man, but it’s obvious that your slap hurt his pride. Thankfully, he did not pry and left your apartment quietly.

Present time

While Jaehyun was cleaning your face with a damped cloth, he noticed that your bruises are all healed. He remembered that one time when he had pushed you accidentally and you ended up having a cut just above your eyebrow. He also remembered how you slapped him so hard that it made him realize that all he’s ever done to you is hurt you. It was a wake up call for him.

“Slap me again. I don’t care just please wake up” he begs. Kissing your forehead before continuing to clean you up. It has been his routine to talk to you even though he gets nothing. Sometimes he plays you some music so you won't get bored in your sleep and also you would know that he’s inside the room with you. As he continues being like this, he never losses hope and always visit you with a cheerful aura, knowing all too well that being negative in this kind of situation will only make him go crazy.

“Maybe if I did let you break up with me the first time you said it, this wouldn’t happen to you. I’m sorry” he whispers again. Tucking you in your hospital bed and making sure that you won't get cold. He fixed the white sheet and smoothens it before laying beside you carefully.

“I just love you so much” he hugs you carefully, “That’s why I really can’t let you go. But look where my selfishness brought you” tears roll down on his cheeks, making your sleeves wet because of his continues crying.

When Jaehyun became busy with his career, he can’t visit you every day anymore but confident that you’re in good hands because your parents are with you now. Nonetheless, he never forgets to call the doctor to check up on you. Sometimes, he and Taeyong write lyrics in your room just so he can spend time with you while he’s still working on his music. To be honest, he produces great lyrics whenever he works beside you. It was too much for him that sometimes he cries while writing the lyrics and Taeyong is quick to bring him back to focus and comfort him.

First month of being together

The continuous ringing of your doorbell makes you panic for nothing and quickly ran to your door to open it. “Jaehyun, what are you doing here?” you look outside to check if it’s safe and that none of your neighbors is watching.

“I just miss you so much I’m itching to see you” he cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately, closing your door shut and motioning your bodies straight to your bedroom. You two were quick to get naked and meet in the middle of your bed to kiss and fuck already.

“Can’t believe I’m letting you fuck me in the middle of the afternoon Jaehyun” you lay comfortably in bed as Jaehyun kiss you wherever he wants, however, he pleases. Kneading your boobs and sucking them from time to time, spreading spit all over your body, and licking your pussy. He surprised you by spreading your folds and spitting on your pussy, licking you good, and making you moan and whine.

“Still on the pill?” he asks, pumping his cock and sucking your right nipple as he waits for your answer. You nod your head. Jaehyun folds both of your legs and spread them wide until your hips are not touching the mattress giving Jaehyun a nice angle to fuck you deeply. He pushed in slowly while watching you beneath him, he watches you grab your boobs and moan a little too loud. “I want to do something fun, will you let me?” he asks in between fucking you deep and slow, you wonder what he has in mind.

“Whatever you want” you smile and watch him reach something on the side table. He opens your phone and put it in recording mode, taking a video of his cock going in and out of your pussy, switching the camera to selfie mode, and put it on the side of your bed. Telling you to smile while he continues to fuck you. “Clever,” you said, as you two look at the camera while having sex. You smiled and asked him to flirt with the camera so whenever you watch it, it will make your heart jump and you won't miss him that much when he’s away. And so he did. He flirts in the camera like how he flirts with you normally in bed, kissing you while he looks at the camera, putting his idol skills to good use in bed.

“Turn around for me please” you followed what he asked of you and lay on your stomach. Jaehyun put your phone in front of you and dragged you all the way down to your bed so you two can fit the screen. He puts your ass up in the air, lick your pussy from behind, and went back to fucking you. Jaehyun loves to fuck you hard from behind while his hand is on your nape, pushing your face on the mattress as he pounds you hard.

“FUCK” you cursed loudly when you feel his thumb go inside your asshole slowly, making your pussy clench and unclench. A tight feeling for Jaehyun’s cock which he loves. He lets go after a minute and put his fingers on your clit, making you let go and cum so good that your legs are shaking and your legs are giving on you. You feel Jaehyun slow down and feel him cum inside you, leaning down to kiss you and ask you if you’re alright.

He saved the video and put your phone back on the side table and went back to shower your body with kisses while you two calm down from your high. “Sorry if this is spontaneous” he lays beside you, tired and sweaty.

“It’s okay baby, I miss you too”

“Baby?” he smiled in disbelief.

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes and continue to catch your breath.

“Say it again? Please?” he asked oh so sweetly showing off his dimples. Your weakness.

“Baby-“ he devours your lips again after hearing you call him ‘baby’. A small gesture that makes his heart jump.

“That’s it, okay? We're together now and that’s official. Understand?” he kissed you deeply again before you could even say something else. You smile through the kiss amused at how happy Jaehyun is while he’s on top of you. You two stayed like that in bed talking about anything and everything, admiring each other while you’re skin to skin, asking for kisses here and there, laughing together whenever he tells you something funny.

From the moment Jaehyun left you that day, your life changed and Jaehyun is the reason behind it. Bittersweet. That’s the perfect word for your relationship. No relationship is perfect, you’re well aware of that. And dating a famous idol can be so complicated that it drives you both crazy. But still, it’s a relationship worth saving for because you love each deeply than you could have ever imagined.

Present time

Waiting is long suffering. That is clear to Jaehyun, now that you’re already sleeping for a year and four months, slowly his hope is already running thin. Not only that he’s suffering emotionally these past few months, but he’s also suffering financially and has become a man full of debts. He loaned money from his company, the bank, even from his parents, just so your hospital bills can be covered. Accepting every kind of project and working from sun up to sun down just so he can provide your needs.

Your parents needed to go back home and entrust you to Jaehyun because they don’t have any other options.

Life is becoming harder than expected.

Now that he’s away for a tour, he became even more depressed because he can’t be by your side. He asked his parents to take care of you while he’s on tour, which they gladly accepted and made sure to call him every day to tell him your condition even though he hears exactly the same thing every day.

“Great job today everyone!”

The members and staffs congratulate each other as they finish another successful concert in the states. Hugs everywhere, and a lot of ‘thank yous’ are said, smiling through the day as Jaehyun ready himself to call his mother and ask about you.

“34 missed calls” he murmurs and went somewhere quiet to call his mother and ask about the 34 missed calls. They should know that he’s working.

“Hey, mom. W-why so many calls? I was doing a show- did she wake up already?” The other line was silent but he can hear his mom breathing, “Hello?” Jaehyun speaks again.

“She gave up son, she passed away, two hours ago”

Jaehyun’s world came crashing down as he reaches for the nearest wall to support himself because his knees gave up on him. Tears pool in his eyes as he cries quietly, holding his phone so tightly. He screamed and sobbed so loud it echoes to the empty hallway. Thankfully Mark saw him and called the others and his manager.

“I didn’t even get to say goodbye!” he yelled and push the other members away as he lets that sadness take him away.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry Y/n, please forgive me!”

#nct-writers #kdiner #unfortunatus: inferno #nct smut #jung jaehyun smut #nct jung jaehyun smut #nct jaehyun smut #nct angst #nct imagines #nct scenarios #nct 127 smut #jaehyun x reader #nct x reader #idol au #nct idol au

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ill-skillsgard · 3 years

Note

I need Faust and Faith's reunion after he's done touring 👉👈 No pressure or anything. I just miss them a lot!

I always miss Fausty boy! I have some other prompts I wanted to incorporate into this one, but it was getting too long. I hope you enjoy!

Warning: 18+ mentions of public sex, mature language, anti-religious overtones, mentions of blood, violence, death, and drug use.

Summary: Faith goes to her first black metal show and asks Faust about the black circle.

- Not based on Lords of Chaos. I use Faust!Valter’s likeness only as inspiration.

Read more Faust x Faith here [x]

The duelling guitars screeched through twin stacks of speakers and filled the auditorium with malfeasance. Faith had never witnessed such a carnal reaction. As she watched from the side stage, the crowd below opened into a whirling pit of black-clad showgoers, pushing, jumping and banging against each other. The drums kicked into a blistering rhythm, and her attention turned toward the man she barely recognized with white and black makeup painting his face like the ghost of a demon.

Faust punished his drumkit with expert precision, his arms blurring in the chaos of their first song. His black hair swung as he banged his head without missing a beat. Horned and studded limbs spilled over the metal barricade, tongues lolled, and eyes lit with blissful fury. The singer's growls seemed to rise from the depths of hell, a monster shrieking at its thralls for more destruction.

Even with earplugs in, Faith felt the music blowing back in waves, shaking the column of her throat and turning her brain to mush. She dared slip one plug out to hear the true volume and quickly stuffed it back in when the intensity struck.

During the ambient interludes between songs, the crowd roared still. A few hundred people raised their hands, praising the men on stage. It reminded her of church, how they would let their eyes roll back, chanting the hymns and facing their palms skyward. This was no church she had ever set foot inside. The walls were painted black, the floor sticky from spilled beer, and its congregation made her gathering's displays of loyalty seem demure. The air reeked of salty skin and malt embedded in the paint from nights like this.

Faith saw people wearing shirts with Faust's band logo on the front, and a burst of pride warmed her belly. Though she was remarkably out of place, there was an odd sense of welcome. She could run headfirst into the crowd and get swallowed up and spit out like anyone else.

When they finished their set, Faust retired his drumsticks to a holder, chugged an entire bottle of beer and took a brief bow to the crowd before walking off stage. Faith bounced as he approached and scooped her off the floor, smearing her face with paint from around his mouth. When he set her down, his lips were partially visible through the now grey muck.

"How was it?" Faust asked.

"You guys are amazing. That's was so cool, babe!"

"Ah, you're just saying that."

"No, really! I can't believe how crazy they went for you!"

Faust sneered playfully, though their reception had been one for the books. "Probably 'cause half the crowd are friends of ours."

"Doesn't matter. You still kicked ass."

Faust's smile was unbreakable from a show well played and seeing his girlfriend waiting for him at the side of the stage. He led her to the green room as stagehands and managers nodded them through and let her dab the corpse paint off her face in the bathroom. Faust sopped up the sweat in his hair with a towel and changed his stage clothes before Faith returned. His bandmates soon joined them, and the chatter was unintelligible. People from other bands came in to talk and congratulate the young group on their first cross-country tour, and soon the back was filled with people hanging VIP badges from their pockets.

Faust pulled Faith from the bedlam before the room grew too hot. They made their way to the main floor and the rows of merchandise tables. Faith couldn't help but feel privileged to have access to the other side of the tables where Faust told her she could stash her coat and purse while a lineup of fans waited to purchase t-shirts and albums. Admirers pulled Faust away several times to take photos and shake hands. Faith watched in awe as people took turns posing with her boyfriend, who stayed looking stoic in his half-melted face paint. Her boyfriend. People from all walks of life wanted proof they'd met him, asking him to sign album covers and tour posters.

When Faust broke away from the clamour of excited metal fans, he took Faith's hand and pulled her through the crowd to a stairwell guarded by security. He flashed his tour badge, and the guard permitted them to the balcony where a few other musicians sat in a less crowded area.

"Come on, let's go outside. I need a fucking smoke," Faust said.

They went through a set of metal doors to an outdoor balcony where two men leaned against the railing, passing a joint and chatting. One spotted Faust, and a smile cracked over his face.

"Hey, Faust. Great show, man. We watched from the balcony. You guys were fucking killer," the man passed the joint to the drummer.

He hauled a significant bout of smoke into his lungs, then expelled it into the night air, handing it back with a nod.

The man refused. "Pass it to the lady."

"She's good," Faust said.

"I'll take a hit," Faith countered.

Faust glanced at her, brow raised high. "You sure?" He chuckled.

"Yes. I'll be fine."

Faust handed her the joint and turned to his fellow musicians. "Thanks. Glad you guys enjoyed the set."

As Faith inhaled, the other man turned to her and offered his hand to shake. "Hey, I'm Janne."

"Faith," she mouthed around a lungful of searing smoke.

"This is Yosh," Janne gestured at the man who'd initially offered Faust the joint. "Good to meet you."

"Is this your girlfriend, Fausty?"

"Yeah. She's my girl."

"Aw, that's cute. Didn't take you for the relationship type, to be honest. You like this scary son of a bitch?" Yosh asked.

Faith giggled as she looked up at the towering man dressed in black while he lit a cigarette. "He's not that scary. At least not to me," said Faith.

"Good man to have by your side at a show. You might get trampled down there."

"This is actually my first show."

Yosh choked on a hit and coughed, "really? And you came to a black metal show? That's ballsy."

"Well, it's not really my thing, but I wanted to see them play. I came from out of town just to be here tonight," Faith said proudly.

"Oh, right. You guys are from the green belt, right? Or should I say, the black circle?" Janne tittered.

Faust's eyes grew stony. "No. I'm not part of that shit. Bunch of fucking posers."

"We were just talking about the church fire there a couple weeks ago. You guys are known for that, aren't you?"

"I don't know. Guess so," Faust shrugged.

"They said there was a body found after they put out the fire, and it was nailed to some pieces of wood...like a cross or something. Can you believe that shit? How metal is that?"

Faith swallowed. She had heard the news break the day after the fire before they announced the unidentified body and after Faust had surprised her at the bus stop. They had prayed about it in church the following week and set up a collection to bulldoze the wreckage and reconstruct the chapel even bigger than before. Her mother was so stricken from the news that Faith had to spend a night at her parents' house consoling her while her father bad-mouthed the city's youth.

Bunch of heathen Satan-worshippers in this town. If I'd have known how disgusting some of these people are, I'd have never moved us out here.

Faith, her sisters and their mother all huddled on the sofa watching reruns of Full House while Stan stood hard-backed at the front window, peering out every few minutes as if the culprit might attack them next.

Oh, Stan, you don't know who did it. You can't point the finger when the police haven't even updated the community. Give the embers a chanced to cool. Besides, it's places like these that need the most help. We'll raise the money. I just hope to God they catch the people who did this.

All Faith could think about as she ate her sundae next to her sister was what she was doing the night after the fire. While the fire department was busy putting out the flames across town, she was pressed against a brick wall getting fucked by one of the heathen Satan-worshippers her father despised. She tried not to connect dots that had no business forming any kind of picture. Faust's appearance had been a coincidence.

I'll tell you who did this... It's that damned black circle. They've done it before, and they'll do it again.

Faust waved a hand in front of Faith's face, and she flinched from her reveries. "Babe? You there?"

"Oh, sorry," she laughed. "Kind of zoned out."

"Wanna head back inside?"

Faith didn't realize she was shivering until Faust rubbed her upper arms. "Sure. Yeah, let's do that."

"One puff of a joint, and you're on another planet, huh? Good seeing you Janne, Yosh... We should tour again."

"Yeah, man. As soon as possible. We're always on the road. We'd love to have you out for as many gigs as you guys can handle."

Faust nodded and clasped hands with both men before urging Faith along with a palm on her bottom. Once they made it inside, he snuck his fingers under her skirt and pinched her hard enough to give her a jolt but not to hurt.

"Faust!"

"What? No one's looking. Hey, you wanna check out our tour bus?"

Faith went to the balcony railing and saw the next band setting up their gear. She pointed below and turned to Faust. "Won't we miss the next band?"

"You actually wanna stay and watch?"

"Uh, yeah! This is my first show. I wanna see all the bands."

"All right. We can stay up here or go to the floor. But I'm warning you, it can get ruthless down there."

"I want to go down. It looks fun."

"Then we have to go now. We'll try to get right up front where you won't get swallowed in a circle pit."

"Really?" Faith gasped. "Like, right up front at the barricade?"

"Sure, why not? If you want the full experience. I'll stand right behind you and make sure crowd-surfers don't land on your head. Then after, I'll show you the bus, and...I dunno...Probably fuck."

"Oh my goodness, Faust. Yeah, right!"

"I'm serious. I'd fuck you right here if there weren't people around."

Emboldened by his suggestion, Faith whirled around and stared up at him with her brows lowered. "What's all this about the black circle?"

Faust scoffed. "What are you talking about?"

"I've heard it mentioned before and that you're part of it. I just wanna know. Is it some kind of gang?"

"Do I look like I'm in a fucking gang? No. It's just some dumb shit they made up in high school."

"They as in your friends?"

"It's stupid and means nothing."

Faith stood in place. "Well, they're saying that church burned down because of your friends. Aren't you afraid someone might ask you questions?"

"I'm not afraid of shit because I've been on tour this whole time."

"Faust—"

"What did I tell you about the twenty questions? Now, do you wanna go watch the show or do you wanna keep talking about irrelevant shit?"

Dissatisfied with his response, Faith clammed up and followed Faust to the main floor. They wriggled through the tightening crowd and got upfront before the lights lowered, and a gust of smoke covered the stage. Ominous chanting heralded in a band dressed in black hoods. Faith watched, awestruck, but in the back of her mind, thoughts of the black circle fermented, giving off a foul smell she couldn't ignore.

After the headlining band opened with pyrotechnics and the frontman tossing a skull of pig's blood over the crowd, Faust took Faith around back, where the tour buses formed a barrier between the street and the venue. He led her inside and turned on the light to reveal the interior in a state of disarray. Beer bottles overflowed in the sink, ramen noodle wrappers littered the floor, and spiked leather decorum hung over seats and tables. There was a shredded porn magazine, its contents pinned to the wall and drawn over with a black marker, breasts shooting fire and snakes slithering out of places that made Faith blush.

"Sorry about the smell. Touring always has a distinct odour of unwashed balls and puke."

Faith tried not to touch any surface until Faust showed her to the back lounge area, where they sat and looked at each other in prolonged silence. Faith reined in a smile while her boyfriend sat back and studied her face.

"I'm glad you came. Sorry that it's probably more chaotic than you expected."

"It's okay. I'm having fun."

"You sure? I know it's not really your scene."

"You're my scene," Faith said.

He reached for her hand. Faith thought he meant to hold her, but he tugged her closer instead, straddling her over his lap. His hands came up under her skirt and over her ass while they kissed. Faust pulled away as she rocked her hips forth and placed his hands on her hips.

"So, how's school?"

"You're really asking me about school when we haven't seen each other in weeks?"

"What? Is there something else you wanna do?"

"I think you know what I want."

"Yeah, but I want you to say it."

Faith peered down the hall, past the bunks, toward the front of the bus. "What if someone comes in?"

"Not like my band hasn't walked in on you sucking my cock before."

"Oh my gosh, don't remind me."

Faust darkened, pulled air through his teeth. "Did you miss me?"

"Of course, I missed you. How is that even a question?"

He tilted his hips up and let Faith drop when he relaxed. She tugged his shirt up to appreciate the trail of hair leading down from his navel.

"What did you miss the most?"

"Your big, throbbing heart," Faith giggled. "I missed cuddling with you and going on walks together. Waking up with you beside me. Your cooking."

Faust pulled her down for a hug. "All right, all right. I get it. You wanna fuck, just not in the bus."

"Do your bandmates fuck girls in here?"

Laughter burst from his mouth as he rocked Faith back and forth. "They fucking wish."

The couple chuckled until another silence proceeded. Faith saw the fiery look in Faust's eyes, the appetite for her body that never tapered, his joy from having her there on his tour bus. Yet, all Faith saw was a building on fire, flames flickering behind his green stare. She smothered the thoughts with a kiss Faust took for permission to explore under her skirt again. Maybe she could kill her suspicions by reminding herself how much he loved her, the lengths he would go to protect her.

Voices yelled outside the bus, distracting Faith but not Faust, who rolled beneath her hips, oblivious to the arousal shooting through his groin.

"Yeah, come on, baby. Pull my cock out and sit on it for me. It'll be quick."

"Faust!" Someone shouted outside of the bus.

Faith pushed on his chest and perked toward the sound.

"Where the fuck is that asshole? First, he fucks off for an entire day, loses his phone, makes us cancel a show, and now the prick can't be dicked to help load out because his bitch is here? Getting real fucking sick of the bullshit, Ola."

"Mordy, chill out, man."

The bus door opened, followed by a waft of cigarette smoke. Boot tread hammered across the floor, and Mordy swayed through to the back, scoffing when he saw Faust with his girlfriend perched on his lap.

"You wanna take apart your drumkit, or are you just gonna let it sit in the way of everyone's gear? Oh, sorry, should have known you were too busy to be fucking bothered."

Faust lifted Faith off his thighs, and she bounced on the sofa as he shot up and stared Mordy down. The bass player didn't flinch.

"What? What're you gonna do, Faust? Punch me out? Good thing it's our last show. Wouldn't want your personal business getting in the way of the biggest tour of our fucking lives so far."

"You don't know shit, so I suggest you shut your mouth."

"No, I'm not gonna shut my mouth. Someone has to stand up to you, and none of these pussies will. Go load out your fucking gear, man!"

Faust smelled whiskey on Mordy's breath. He was far too sober to start a fight with the bass player and nodded, shouldering past him. Mordy crashed into the wall and cursed as the drummer stomped off the bus, leaving Faith fidgeting with the edge of her skirt and unsure if she should follow. Mordy scoffed at her and exited the bus after Faust, shouting until she no longer heard him.

When Faust returned, Faith stood up and wrang her wrists. "Should I leave?"

"We're both leaving," Faust muttered as he tore open the zipper on his backpack and scrounged up his clothes and stage effects to stuff inside. He ducked into the small fridge and took four bottles of beer, sticking two in the holders of his bag and pocketing the other two inside his leather jacket.

"Come on. We're out of here."

"But, neither of us have a car, and we're far from home," Faith said.

"Call a cab."

Outside of the bus, guitar cases and boxes of merch waited for loading. Faust opened a tote, wrenched open a steel moneybox and took some of the cash inside. He found Faith's coat and purse and passed them to her before kicking a hole into the plastic container. Mordy and Ola noticed this as Faust walked away with Faith in tow.

"Hey, asshole! What do you think you're doing? You can't just fucking take off with the merch money!"

Faust turned around, grabbed his crotch and flipped them off. "Suck my dick, fuckbags. Find a new drummer."

#faust x faith #valter skarsgard fanfiction #fanfiction

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Fake It | Weasley Twins | CH6

one // two // three // four // five

Warnings | 18+ SMUT, mature themes, fake relationships, secret relationships, love, sex, drama, angst, fluff, masturbation, hate sex, heartbreak, blood

Summary // Fred Weasley has been set up to publicly date Y/N, London’s best Quidditch Seeker in order to drum up some publicity. Y/N however has a different ginger man on her mind; George Weasley.

A/N // thank you to my angst goblin, Lanie @gcdric and my angel Zahra @starlightweasley for helping me get this one out bc otherwise id be STUCK

One new message

The sound of the answer machine rang through Fred’s flat, he was staring out over London and her twinkling lights. His waistcoat was loose, hanging open at his chest - tie discarded the moment he stumbled through the door. He’d pretty much flung the sliding glass door to the balcony open, letting the biter breeze whip through his hair, blowing the once still curtain so that it flew in a way that mimicked the way a superhero’s cape flows.

The night of partying had been a wild but well needed distraction. Fred couldn’t stop the image of your kiss from playing over and over in his head, his fingers ghosted over where the absent feeling of your lips lingered, wishing you were here.

“Freddie…” You breathed down the phone, your words slurred still as the liquor clung to your senses.

“About what happened tonight, I don’t think it was-” His heart began to race at the simple thought, the steamy kiss was crossing his mind once again, He heard you take a moment, a pause for thought and he held his breath with you.

“I just - we need to talk. We- I have something to tell you.” You sighed, he was praying he could just call you back, checking his watch, he knew it was too late. What If he did call, would that be so bad?

“I’m sorry, Fred.” the sound of you putting down the phone echoed in his brain. Sorry. What could you possibly be sorry for? It could possibly be one of the best kisses of his life. He couldn’t deny the electricity that he felt from tip to toe and he knew deep down that you felt it too. So why did he feel a pang of sadness hit his chest, winding him like a dementor was sucking the soul out of his body.

Fred fell asleep that night clutching his pillow as he imagined you in its place. He wasn’t sure what made the tears roll down his cheeks, but shrugged it off as the alcohol getting to him. He was snivelling, contemplating leaving you a text. He needed you to know how he felt, that he was aching for you to be with him. He didn’t want things to just be staged anymore, there was undeniable chemistry there between you, he felt it in the way you looked at him. Surely it would be better if you were his, he could kiss and hold you all he wanted without the need for press or cameras. You could have a beautiful, normal life together. You were one of the last thoughts on his brain as he drifted off, his grip against the plush pillow only growing tighter out of desperation.

Waking to the midday sun shining directly into his eyes wasn’t making the pounding headache rattling around in his skull any better. Fred didn’t remember anything about how or when he got home, only recalling the mellow flow of your voice reverberating around his flat. He managed to drag himself from his bed, searching every unorganised cabinet for the sight of even one lonely ibuprofen, sighing as his head fell to rest on the counter with no luck. He realised the grave mistake he had made when his head started thumping, the room spinning and his sight going hazy. Water, he needed hydration.

Two pints of water later, Fred was still feeling the sour effects of last night’s burning liquor, feeling the burn in his chest with every breath, like all the liquid was ready to come right back up at any moment. He sat himself down at the island counter as he pressed the button to replay the voicemail from last night.

I’m Sorry.

The words wouldn’t leave him, he replayed the voicemail over and over, internalising every single word as it played through the speakers. He sat for hours, sat too long until his feet had gone numb from dangling over the seat. The Great British weather had taken its turn for the worst, a clap of thunder distracting Fred from his thoughts, not knowing how deeply the words were hitting him, until he felt a tear drop against the back of his hand. It was too much for him, realising that he needed to see you, touch you, feel you.

I’m Sorry

His feet dragged him towards your place, he didn’t care that he’d been walking for miles or that the rain was drenching him to his very core. It was desperation that drove him to find you. It was like a sign to him that one lonely red rose grew from a bush he passed, stopping dead in his tracks before turning around to look at it. He plucked it from the bush, holding it up to his nose, breathing in the scent. Rose petals mixed with the cold drizzle and muggy air sent him over the edge. He was walking quicker now so that he could get to you, pace kicking up into a small jog, his shoes slapping against the wet pavement with each step.

One light shone dimly from the confines of your apartment. Fred stood outside, debating how he was going to approach this conversation. He loved you, wanted you to be his and he struggled in that moment to find the appropriate words to express it. You were towel drying your hair, supposedly from the rain as you came into view by the window. You looked like an angel, a pure piece of heaven on earth and his heart beat faster, beginning to move closer to the flat’s entrance. That’s when he spotted another figure coming into view from the window, face covered by the towel as you dried their hair. Whoever it was, had at least a foot on you height wise, their hands snaking around your waist to pull you tight and close to them.

Fred’s heart sunk, like it had fully fallen out of his ass, seeing you in the arms of another man made his stomach churn, his grip on the rose growing tighter as the thorns pierced his skin. He didn’t even feel the pain, just the emptiness in his chest. He watched as you pulled the towel from the figure’s face.

The messy ginger hair, round cheeks and adoring smile were obvious. Fred knew exactly who he was seeing, he was blinking so hard wishing that it was just a terrible nightmare. As George’s lips connected with yours, it was as if it rumbled Zeus himself, a bolt of lightning illuminating the dark sky. It was like watching his whole world come crashing down, watching you chase his brother’s lips desperately, the same way you had done with him last night. He couldn’t help but watch as the kiss deepened, George using his strength to pick you up, watching your legs wrap around his waist, walking out of sight.

It was like watching a glimpse of a life he’d never have, the rose fell to the floor, petals breaking off of the stem. Blood was dripping from his hand to the floor, diluted by the rain as it splashed against the stone. Not a single car drove by your house, not one person was outside but Fred in that moment. Loneliness was the only bitter feeling left, it tasted like hell in his mouth, unable to shake the image of you and George together, only hearing two words in his head over and over like a broken record.

I’m Sorry.

Raindrops danced along Fred’s skin, the soft pitter patter mocking him, everything reminded him of you, even in a moment of heartbreak, the glow of Christmas lights, the thunder or the distant sound of horns beeping at one another, it all reminded him of you in the most ridiculous way. His phone chimed, pulling up the messages he realised that his thoughts had overpowered the importance of the messages.

>> I miss your touch Freddie

>> I can come see you tonight

>> why aren’t you responding Fred?

>> don’t you love me?

‘Maybe this is what I need’ Fred thought, Perhaps he needed the out, the quick fuck to get the aggression out of his system. They say it’s wrong to sleep with your boss, but Cherry wasn’t his boss, she was just the publicist. The publicist you shared. If you could sleep with anyone you wanted, why should he feel guilty about it now? After all, if there was one woman who could help him forget, It would be Cheryl.

<< sorry, doll

<< of course i love you

<< come see me x

>> I won’t be long, i’m so desperate for you, Freddie x

It was wrong for him to say that, especially when he didn’t love cherry. Not one ounce of his body felt a connection deeper than just sex. That's all it was to him with Cherry; mindless, carefree sex. Why he kept going back to her like a lost puppy however, was still up for debate.

Cheryl wasn't an unattractive woman, but she wasn't you. She was taller, accentuated by her constant need to wear heels, not that it mattered much to Fred when he towered above most people he met. She had long blonde hair that was always beach waved and perfectly sun-kissed skin like a Miami model. Fred didn't care too much about superficial looks, but it was undeniable that part of the reason he enjoyed Cherry so much was the way her tits, although obviously fake, would bounce in his face begging to be touched as she sank down onto him or the way her full lips looked as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. Fucking Cheryl from behind was as much fun, he had all the ass he could hold onto before him and a tight cunt that always struggled to take him.

Reaching his home Cherry was already waiting for him. She spun around as soon as his presence behind her was felt, lips attaching to his immediately. The red lipstick she wore while unique to her, was now being transferred to the man's lips as they kissed. He wasn't disappointed to be kissing someone, it was disappointment that it wasn't you. Your kisses were heaven compared to what he was getting now, he found himself picturing you in his arms and that seemed to work.

They wasted no time stripping each other's clothes off, Fred was aching to pound his cock into something, even if it had to be Cherry. When the girl tried to straddle him, he grabbed her hips, throwing her against the mattress, causing a giggle to erupt from her lips. "Hands and knees tonight, Doll."

Being seethed inside Cherry felt amazing. He tried to stretch her out, push as much of himself inside as he could, but she was simply so tight. The pace he set was animalistic, fucking the girl raw against the sheets, he couldn't stand to look at her, closing his eyes and pretending it was the girl he’d been longing for. It wasn't enough, he needed more control. Fred's hand was pushing Cherry's face into the sheets, his thrusts more violent and possessive as he continued fucking her senseless.

Back at your home, George was seethed all the way inside you, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. The way you two fit together was like lock and key, a perfect size for each other. "I'm so deep inside of you princess, can you feel me in your belly?" You were nodding, grabbing his hand to press against your abdomen, his thrusts were slow and purposeful, he was trying to make you cum over and over and over again tonight and you were already waiting for number four. "Yes Georgie, right here, it feels so good when you fill me up." he hummed as he felt the tip of his cock hitting where his hand was pressed with every thrust. His precious girl. All for him.

Fred was on the edge, skin slapping as he chased his orgasm, Not caring much for Cherry's desperate moans, no matter how good he was making her feel. He wanted her to shut up, it sounded so fake, but he was ready to release, pulling out to let his cum drip over the curve of her ass. He flopped on the bed next to her, immediately feeling her hand on his cock, stroking gently. "You're so good, Freddie, So big."

She took him into her mouth with ease, it was the only time he could be fully inside of her. His head was back against the mattress as he pictures your soft lips replacing hers. His hand came up to stroke her hair as she continued sucking him off. Try as he might to cum again, he knew it wasn’t your hand on his cock, or your lips. It was another woman, the thought made him sick to his stomach, forcing him to sit bolt upright, pulling himself away from the naked girl on his bed.

“I can’t do this.” he grumbled, grabbing the boxers he had discarded on the floor, pulling them up. Cherry sighed, running a hand through her hair and pulling it over her shoulder, “Do you want me to stay Freddie?” she smiled, playing with the ends of hair as she watched him walk into his bathroom across the hall. “I don’t care.” he spoke plainly, the hurt in his chest hitting him once again as he slammed the door behind him.

He could still hear the hums and moans you made against his lips. As he leant against the shut door, his hand reached down to start palming himself, feeling himself grow hard again at the thought of you. He was picturing you sprawled out on his bed, begging for him, using your mouth to get him off - He was getting close again as he imagined slamming his hips into you. Just as he reached his peak again, one thought plagued his mind, you moaning his twins name. His heart broke again as he came, sighing as he realised that he was too late. You weren’t his to have.

/// TO BE CONTINUED /// >>>>>> Chapter Seven

taglist // @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @whiz-bangs78 @weasleysflowr @vogueweasley @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @rip-us @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke @loony-loopy-lupinn @pigwidgexn @mackaywhore @softlyqoos @colorfulprofessornickelangel @fandomscombine @satellitespidey @txtdreamss @aaannabbanana @starkidpotty @mollydarling-hphm @amwithers2001 @mrmoonyy

#Fake It Fic #fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fluff #fred and george #fred weasley smut #gred and forge #george weasley fic #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #ginger hair #harry potter smut #Smut

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kaznejis · 4 years

Text

Only Fools- Marco Peña x Flynn!Reader

nialler-tpwk5 said: Can we get Marco x reader but lee and Noah are her bothers and Noah gets in to a fight with him bc they kissed

A/N: Thankyou for sending in this prompt! I wrote this in a matter of hours, so hopefully there aren’t any mistakes- sorry if there is. I really enjoyed writing this; I think the scene between Marco and Noah at the football field is definitely my favourite!

Alsooo, whilst I was writing this I received a request for a ‘making out with Marco’ head canon- so I will have something similar to the opening out in the next few hours ;)

Feel free to send in any prompts. :)

Curling the tips of your fingers into Marco’s hair, you breathed out hot puffs of breaths against his face as you moved your lips against his passionately. Marco’s hands clung to your waist as he dragged you into his lap, running his tongue against the seam of your lips as he pushed back with the same level of fervour.

“We can’t do this for long,” You panted as Marco traced the pliant skin beneath your loose shirt, “My family will be home soon.”

Marco just smirked up at you as his hands moved further north, “You know that never stops me.”

You huffed a laugh as you dragged your lips down the base of his throat, “Yeah well, I don’t feel like watching my brothers beat you up today.”

Marco pulled back, pulling a raised eyebrow as he stared at you, “You think I can’t take them?”

“Lee, definitely,” You both broke into giggles at that, “but Noah is multiple feet taller than you with an added sprinkle of anger issues- wouldn’t exactly be a fair fight.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter because we won’t get caught,” He grinned at you as he pecked the tip of your nose softly, “The older brother will go back to college in a week and the younger one is to wrapped up in his own drama to notice anything.”

“True,” You sighed, tracing your finger along his face- the scar at his hairline, the light freckles beneath his eyes, the stray hairs that trailed the edges of his eyebrows. He really was beautiful. Despite what your siblings could ever think, you truly loved Marco- and you believed that he loved you too with the same level of compassion. The two of you were meant for each other; the sneaking around and hiding had only proved to deepen the connection that formed between the two of you.

Though, you could tell that Marco was beginning to grow restless of this factor to your relationship. You were too- you wanted nothing more than be able to be with Marco in public and get rid of the masses of girls that flocked towards him in school. You wanted to be able to bring him home for family dinners like Noah did with Elle and Lee with Rachel; instead of having to sneak him in and out of your bedroom window as soon as the front door opens.

To say the least, your brothers were extremely overprotective of you. Though, Noah’s protective nature was much more intense than Lee’s- he had gone to the lengths of beating up any guy who even dared to look at you, let alone touch you. Although he had softened slightly since opening his heart up to Elle, you still had no doubt that he would hunt Marco down if you were ever caught together. The thought of the two people you loved most in the world going against each other terrified you and you never wanted to be put in that situation. You just wished your brothers would lay off and stop seeing you as the timid girl you once were.

“Are you still with me?” Marco mumbled softly, pushing a strand of hair from out of your eyes. You just smiled sadly back at him before reluctantly climbing from upon his lap.

“You should probably get going, they’ll all be back soon.”

Marco climbed up from your bed after you, letting out a heavy intake of breath as he listened to what you said, “Alright- but I will forever dream of spending an entire night with you here.” And at that he laughed before giving you a sloppy kiss to the cheek and swinging his legs over your balcony ledge

“Be safe!” You hollered as you leant against the door and watched as he jumped from the tree just below your balcony.

The family sat around the table in comfortable silence as everyone tucked into the food your mother had prepared as usual. Though tonight there were no best friends or girlfriends that usually frequented the seat next to your siblings present tonight- meaning that it was just family.

“Noah,” You inquired, looking up to make eye contact with your older brother, “This is completely hypothetical...but what would you do if I had a boyfriend?”

Noah paused, his fork in the midst of digging into a mound of spaghetti, “Depends,” He brought his fork up and chewed slowly as if he were deep in thought, “If your hypothetical boyfriend were to be someone I know I would beat his ass as they are all assholes.”

“Noah!” Your mum snapped, swatting at him in an attempt to weaken his use of words.

“Sorry,” He groaned, holding up his hands, “I was about to say that if he was someone I didn’t know, maybe I would give him a chance.”

“Moral of the story, don’t date anyone from our school,” Lee laughed as he and Noah high-fived, “Why are you asking that anyway?”

“Oh, just wondering.” You smiled in what you hoped was a reassuring way, but you didn’t miss the intrigued, tilted-head look your mother gave you.

Later that night as you lay on top of your bed covers mindlessly scrolling through your social media and waiting for Marco to message you, a knock sounded at your bedroom door.

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” You called as you propped yourself up against the headboard, “Hey mum.”

“Sorry to barge in, I bought you some hot chocolate.”

“Thanks,” You grinned as you accepted it and took an elongated sip, though you noticed the look on her face as you did so, “Alright, what do you want to ask?”

“You always know when something’s up,” She laughed and gestured for you to scoot over on the bed, “Earlier at dinner- that situation wasn’t hypothetical, was it?”

“No.” You gulped, opting to stare down at the chocolate that swirled within the mug.

“Oh, sweetheart,” She cooed, wrapping her arms around you and bringing you in to cuddle into her side, “Why didn’t you just say? I would never get mad at you for having a boyfriend.”

“I know you wouldn’t,” You sniffled, cuddling closer into her side, “It’s Noah who would.”

“Ah,” She whispered as he tightened her grip around you slightly, “I see.”

“Yeah.” You whispered back, finding it difficult to speak through the lump that was beginning to

rise in your throat.

“He’ll come around, I promise,” Your mother let out a small chuckle before continuing, “He can’t really judge your relationship status when he’s dating his brother’s best friend.”

You both dissolved into light giggles at that, the situation really was bizarre, “That’s actually true.”

“So,” She spoke slowly, nudging your side, “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Promise you won’t tell anyone?” She nodded sincerely, “Marco.”

“Marco…” She mumbled with furrowed brows as realisation slowly set in, “Marco! Oh, he’s a cutie.”

You laughed fondly as you entwined your fingers together in your lap, “Yeah, I would know.”

“You love him, don’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

You just nodded, smiling shyly as you turned to look at the woman beside you, “I wish we didn’t have to hide.”

“Your brothers will understand eventually, I promise,” and she bundled you up all snug in her arms and kissed your forehead as she spoke.

“I hope so, I really do.”

A few days later, you and Marco were once again hanging out in the confines of your bedroom- though this time the interaction was much less heated as the two of you simply sat with your legs intertwined as you studied and helped each other with homework. If someone was to walk in right now you could brush it off as two friends simply hanging out. But, once again- Noah would beat up any guy who even looked at you. Any interaction could be seen as risky.

“Hey,” Marco spoke, reaching over and rubbing his thumb over your clothed thigh, “Help me with this?” In return you smiled and leaned over to press a slow, teasing kiss to Marco’s lips- which he quickly reciprocated as he looped his arms around you.

Of course, Noah decided to walk in at that moment.

“Hey Y/N-” You and Marco pulled away immediately and froze in place, staring at Noah who was practically steaming with anger, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Noah, wait-” Though your brother completely ignored you and stormed straight up to Marco, grabbing him by the collar and slamming his back against the wall.

“My sister? My fucking sister? You made a mistake.”

“Noah!” You screamed, running to the side of him and grabbing the arm that clung to Marco, “Let go of him, I’m fine.” Though your pleads fell upon deaf ears.

“Out of all the people in the world you decided to play my sister?” Noah spat, getting up in Marco’s face, “You’re a fucking asshole, bro.”

“I’m not playing her,” Marco choked out, kicking at Noah’s legs and sending them both to the ground, “I love-”

“Don’t even say it.” Noah practically growled, landing a solid punch onto Marco’s face as they wrestled. Gasping at the sight of blood dripping from your boyfriend’s nose, you jumped forward and grabbed onto Noah’s shoulders- digging your nails into his skin in a way to replace the lack of strength you inhabited compared to him, “What the hell Y/N, get off me!”

“Get off of Marco then, he didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Y/N,” Your brother spoke sternly, “He was touching you.”

“Yes,” You yelled back, anger fizzling through every fibre of your being, “Because he is my boyfriend!” You dug your hands into your eyes, “I’m not a child anymore Noah, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“Well, when you’re with boys like him maybe I do.”

“Boys like me?” Marco deadpanned, taking his hand from his steadily bleeding nose as he did so, “The hell does that mean?”

“Assholes that fuck around.”

“Flynn,” Marco spoke calmly, sitting down on the bed, “I’m sorry to say it but I love your sister, more than anything. I would never do anything to hurt her.” You smiled softly at him as he spoke, he returned it once he was done.

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“Trust me, I guess?” Marco shrugged, wincing as his nose began to sting, “Did you really have to punch me in the face though?”

“Yeah.” Noah insisted, throwing an arm over your shoulder which you attempted to shrug away, “Hurt my sister though and I will fucking kill you- we clear?”

“Sir, yes, sir!” Marco saluted as he walked over to you and looped his arms around your waist, laughing as he accidentally smeared blood onto your shirt.

Yeah, your relationship was about to become ten times better already.

Would anyone be interested in being added to a tag list? If so, please send me an ask or message saying that you would like to be added!

#Marco Peña #Marco x reader #Marco peña x reader #the kissing booth #the kissing booth 2 #marco #oneshot #fanfiction #imagine #taylor zakhar perez #jacob elordi #noah flynn #noah flynn x reader #marco x yn

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openheartthot · 3 years

Text

Holding On

Part 1: The Inevitable | Part 2: Selfish | Part 3: Letting Go

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x f!MC (Camille Prescott)

Word Count: 2,551

Warnings: None that I can think of.

Summary: Ethan can’t live without her.

***

Ahh guys it’s been so long omg. I know I’ve missed reading a lot of fics but I swear once finals are over I’m gonna go back and harass everyone with my reblogs lmao. This is sort of all over the place, but I figured I’ve been wallowing in my writer’s block long enough!

Ethan watches her all night.

She’s radiant in a wine-colored dress, her perfectly coiffed golden hair a far cry from the messy ponytails and buns that she used to sport around Edenbrook.

It’s hard to believe that this is the same woman who’d once started every morning tangled in his bedsheets, who’d held his hand across the table in Derry Roasters.

The same woman who once tried to tell him she loved him in an airport, before he stopped her.

Pain battles with pride in the pit of his stomach as he watches her flit around the hotel ballroom. She’s completely in her element as she rubs elbows with the elite of West Coast medicine. No longer is she the bright-eyed young intern by his side.

It shouldn’t come as a surprise, Ethan always knew she’d be great.

And yet...he can’t help but worry that he might be too late.

Her dress is just a bit risqué for a medical conference, but none of the other doctors or representatives seem to mind. They are completely enraptured by her wide smiles and sharp wit. Especially the young, sandy-haired doctor all but glued to her side. Ethan doesn’t miss the way his hand alights on her waist every now and then, nor the wonderstruck way he gazes at her.

Jealousy roils in Ethan’s stomach, completely unwarranted. He has no claim on her, not anymore.

Ethan turns bitterly back to his scotch, determined to drown his sorrows in the amber liquid before him. One more drink at the bar, and then he’ll leave to continue his pity party upstairs in the privacy of his hotel room. There’s no point in torturing himself with the sight of her with another man.

He knocks back his drink, and another one appears in front of him almost instantly, though he hasn’t ordered one.

For a moment, he’s confused.

But only for a moment.

He catches a whiff of her perfume before any of his other senses realize she’s behind him. He breathes in deeply, savoring the gentle floral scent that lingered on his pillow long after she left for the last time.

“Hell of a speech,” Ethan says into the drink she bought him. He can’t look at her-- he’s scared of what he might say if he gets a glimpse of those green eyes.

He’s broken a lot of his own rules when it comes to Camille, but he won’t make a move on a woman in a relationship. No matter how badly he wants to punch her companion in the jaw.

“I wasn’t expecting you to be here. You hate conventions.”

Ethan grits his teeth against the onslaught of emotions triggered by that voice. That soft, silvery voice that he used to have the pleasure of hearing every day.

God, how he took her for granted back then.

“To your first keynote? I wouldn’t miss it.” Ethan says, fighting to keep his voice even.

It’s true. Ethan avoids conventions like the plague, but when he heard Camille was to be the keynote speaker of a conference held in her new home city of San Francisco, he’d booked a flight without a second thought.

He’s been telling himself it is just to celebrate her success as a former mentor, but he can no longer pretend that he doesn’t have ulterior motives. That he didn’t want to know if she’d come alone, or on the arm of some well-built pretty boy--

“The blonde Clark Kent? Who’s he?” Ethan asks, not entirely on purpose. The scotch has loosened his tongue more than he realized.

“Adam is... just a colleague.” Camille says, and then Ethan catches a glimpse of red silk and blonde hair in his periphery as she sinks onto the barstool beside him.

He can’t ignore the flicker of hope ignited by her words, but then reality comes crashing back in. They live on opposite sides of the country. He told her to leave.

“I was your colleague too, once.” Ethan says, immediately wishing the words didn’t sound so resentful.

“Once.” Camille muses in agreement, and Ethan can’t help but wonder if the bittersweet reel of their relationship plays on a perpetual loop in her mind the way it does in his.

“So, you aren’t seeing anyone?” Ethan can’t help but ask, unable to shake the growing tingle of hope.

“No.” Camille says softly, “I don’t know if I’m ready for anything serious.” She stares down at the bar, unaware of the physical ache that the words cause in Ethan’s chest. The cautious tone of her voice hurts more than he cares to admit.

His Camille, the one who boldly strode past all of the boundaries that he had so painstakingly created, would never be so hesitant when it came to love.

She’s supposed to be foolish, and headstrong, and impulsive...and it’s Ethan’s fault that she isn’t any of those things anymore.

Ethan takes another swallow of scotch, for courage, before he turns to face her.

He had watched her during her speech, of course, and from afar as she made her rounds through the room, but seeing her up-close is almost more than he can handle.

Ethan meets her eyes, and for a minute, he swears he forgets how to breathe. The rest of the room fades away, and it feels like all that exists is him and her. All he can see through his tunneling vision are those green eyes.

Those eyes bring him back to Miami, to that first passion-fueled kiss on a balcony under the light of a thousand stars, both of their inhibitions clouded with wine.

Those eyes bring him back to long nights spent in the diagnostics office, toiling over a case; to her fingers laced in his under the table; to a million little moments shared between the two of them over the course of their relationship, both professional and romantic.

“Dance with me.” Ethan says. He can’t think of a single other thing besides encircling Camille in his arms and holding her close, even if it’s only for the duration of a song.

“...Okay.” Camille agrees after a moment, although Ethan isn’t sure whether it’s out of pity, or because, like his, her hands are burning with the need to touch him.

She follows him to the dance floor, and when she steps into his arms, Ethan can’t stop his eyes from watering. He is convinced there is nothing more right than Camille against his chest, the way her arms slide around his neck, the way that his hands know the curve of her waist.

“I want you.” Ethan murmurs. He can’t help it, with her in his arms, it’s almost like no time has passed at all.

Camille stiffens, her arms tensing where they rest against his shoulders. Her gaze flicks to the elevators, and she swallows hard before looking away.

“You know I’m not interested in being a casual hookup anymore.”

Ethan’s chest tightens, knowing that he was the one that made her feel cheap, disposable. Even so, his own hurt swells.

“There was nothing casual about the nights we spent together, not for me.” Ethan says curtly, stung by her implication.

“For me either.” Camille says in exasperation. “But…”

“I want to be with you.” Ethan says, the words welcome on his tongue after spending so long pretending that he didn’t miss her. Pretending that it didn’t bother him knowing that Camille was building a new life on the other side of the country. A life without him.

“Stop it.” Camille falters, missing a step and almost losing her balance. Ethan pulls her securely against his chest, but she avoids his gaze. “Missing me isn’t the same thing as wanting to be with me.”

“I know,” Ethan insists, refusing to back down.

“Since you left Boston, I’ve been a shell of a man, living only for your visits. And when those stopped…” He takes a deep breath. “I can’t live without you, Camille, I need you.”

“That’s not healthy.” Camille snaps, her expression knitting into a scowl. “And you were the one who told me to move in the first place!”

“I was, and I stand by that. It was the right decision for your career.” Ethan counters reflexively before his voice drops, husky with emotion. “Whether it’s healthy or not, I don’t want to be without you. Not for another second.”

He dips his head, just enough to let his jaw brush against her temple.

Camille lets out a tiny sniff, and when he pulls back to meet her eyes, he finds them shimmering with tears.

“Ethan…” Her lips part on his name, her eyes filled with a yearning so deep that Ethan instinctively tightens his hold on her, his fingers tracing the notches of her spine.

Slowly, tentatively, she relaxes into him, her head resting on his chest just above his beating heart. Ethan freezes, terrified that the slightest movement will scare her away.

“I want that, too.”

He doesn’t waste another second. He tilts her chin up, and then her hands are in his hair, tugging him roughly down until his mouth meets hers. The kiss is desperate and consuming, her hands roving over his back and chest while Ethan traces patterns on the exposed skin of her back.

“I’ve missed this.” Ethan manages before crushing his mouth back to hers. “I’ve missed you.”

Camille sighs in agreement, pulling him close and melding her body against his until it’s hard to tell where his body ends and hers begins.

Her hips rock boldly against him, and Ethan bites back a groan, all too aware that they’re still in the middle of a very public dance floor.

As their frantic kiss slows to gentle brushes of his lips against hers, Ethan smooths his hands over her back, holding her as tightly as he dares. He gazes down at her in amazement, and she stares back, her eyes alight with joy and promise.

“Is that a yes, then? To being with me?” Ethan asks, trying to keep his giddiness at bay. He doesn’t deserve this woman, not even a little, but if she’ll have him... The rising tide of his hope is an almost overwhelming warmth in his chest.

“I…” Camille’s voice trails off, and the light in her eyes extinguishes. She pulls back, not quite out of his embrace, but enough for the distance between them to feel insurmountable.

Ethan closes his eyes, feeling a fresh wave of despair wash over him. He’s too late, too much time has passed. Whatever they once had is unsalvageable. He had known that it was a longshot, but he knows he couldn’t live with himself if he hadn’t at least tried.

“I want to say yes, I really do.” Camille says, shaking her head despondently. “But I can’t move back to Boston. I have a life in San Francisco, now. I have an apartment with a great view of the Bay, and my career is finally taking off… You don’t get to follow me and ask me to give all of that up, it’s not fair.”

She looks up at him, restrained hope in her eyes, as if she’s waiting for Ethan to make a grand gesture, to convince her that he’s worth another chance.

“Does your apartment allow dogs?” Ethan asks instead.

Camille looks away, and he can see the disappointment wash over her face. Disappointment in him, for once again choosing to take the path of least resistance, and once again refusing to fight for her.

“The song’s over, and I’m not interested in making small-talk about my apartment with you. I should go.” She tries to pull back, but Ethan doesn’t release her, maintaining a firm but gentle grip on her waist.

“It’s not small-talk. You should know I hate that more than anyone.” Ethan says, his fingers pressing insistently against her waist, the smooth fabric of her dress bunching beneath his fingertips.

“I need to know if your apartment allows dogs. I need to know if I can have Alan put Jenner on the first flight out to San Francisco tomorrow morning, or if I have to wait until we find a new place.”

Camille’s eyes search his face with obvious confusion.

“What? I don’t… Jenner?” Camille stammers for a moment as she collects her thoughts, her hands absentmindedly resting on his chest. Ethan feels his heart skip at the casual intimacy of her fingers toying with his lapels. “You want to move out to San Francisco?”

“Yes.” Ethan says shortly. “When I said I didn’t want to leave your side, I meant it.”

“Ethan, we’ve been over this. If one of us gives up our career for the other we’ll just end up resenting each other. You’ve been working at Edenbrook for over a decade, I can’t let you give it up for me.”

“Edenbrook is…wonderful. I have enjoyed working there, but at the end of the day it’s just a job. When I came home to an empty apartment at the end of the day, it wasn’t Edenbrook I was thinking about, Camille, it was you.”

“But you love Edenbrook.” Camille says uncertainly, her eyes begging for an explanation.

“I like Edenbrook, most assuredly.” Ethan cups her face in his hands, running his thumbs over her smooth skin. “But I love you.”

“You…love me?” Camille asks, her green eyes gazing up at him, starry with hope. Her cheeks are flushed pink, and Ethan is sure he’s never seen her look more beautiful.

“I do.” he murmurs, unwilling-- unable to look away from her awed expression.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.” Camille whispers back, a luminous smile growing on her face.

“Camille, I’ve been a complete fool, I know that. But I have to know… if you still…” Ethan stumbles over his words, his grip on her tightening in thinly veiled desperation.

“If I still love you back?” she prompts, her light and teasing tone a far cry from her earlier anguish.

Ethan nods, the agony of not knowing threatening to consume him altogether.

Camille’s expression softens, and her fingers drift to his face, tenderly tracing the contour of his cheekbone.

“Of course I do. How could I not?” she asks with a soft laugh, lifting one shoulder in a bashful shrug that is entirely too alluring. His eyes trail over her exposed collarbone.

Ethan can’t wait to take her to his suite upstairs and find out if the skin under that red dress is as sweet as he remembers. But there will be plenty of time for that later, after he hears the three words that have been haunting him ever since she boarded that plane.

“Say it. Please.” Ethan presses his forehead to hers, unbridled joy threatening to bring him to his knees. There are few scenarios that involve the great Ethan Ramsey being reduced to begging, and every last one centers around the gorgeous, brilliant woman in front of him.

“I love you, too.”

This time, she pushes herself onto her tiptoes to close the distance beteen them. And when their lips meet, Ethan knows that he has made the right decision. Edenbrook, Boston, he can take or leave all of it, as long as he has her.

***

Tagging separately since I have no idea if tumblr will decide to work or not :)

#open heart #ethan ramsey #oph #oh #ethan ramsey x mc #ethan x mc #open heart fanfiction #playchoices

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