#bury me with the under the table scene | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mirrrorballs · 7 months

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seeing you tonight.

pairing / jj maybank x fem!kook!reader

genre / fluff, fluff, fluff! slight angst if you squint (?) cute little established relationship read:)

warnings / mentions of an argument, drinking (not the reader), talks about insecurities, i'm pretty sure that's it ^^

synopsis / to say the least, you were pissed at jj. and you were pretty sure he shared the feeling. what started out as a petty little bicker escalated into an actual argument. however, you're going to have to deal with him sooner or later since you're both attending the monthly outer banks beach blowout. seeing him tonight, it's a bad idea right?

author's note / my outer banks phase has been resurfacing, and apparently so has my jj obsession! this is inspired by 'bad idea right?' by olivia rodrigo <3 it doesn't entirely follow the song's storyline, but the idea is there. hope you guys like the little homage to gilmore girls (it's fall, after all.) and the little jess and rory mentions. enjoy!

"Woah, woah, woah- hold that thought, JJ. You argued with her over 'Gilmore Girls'?" Kie asked with furrowed brows and the most confused tone you could hear.

"Well- not technically." JJ replied, but it came out more as a question. Pope decided to pop into the conversation, "How on earth do you argue with your girlfriend over a show about a single mom and her mensa level daughter?" he asked.

JJ sighed sarcastically after John B let out a snicker whilst picking out some clothes for that night's party.

"We didn't really argue about the show. I just didn't like this opinion she had on one of the characters 's all. I think." he shrugged, saying the last part more to himself.

"Enlighten me then. What was this opinion she had?" Kie challenged.

It was early in the morning. JJ had slept over at your house the day before. It was now four am and you were both snuggled up together under a duvet on your couch, head on his shoulder as you both waited for your pop tarts to toast and for your coffee to brew.

You tore yourself away from him, causing JJ to groan and break the comfortable silence that engulfed the two of you.

You giggled lightly at his rather clingy state as you picked the TV remote up from the coffee table in front of you before settling back into his arms.

He held onto you slightly tighter this time, as if he didn't want you out of his hold.

As you turned the television on and started browsing through some shows on Netflix, JJ buried his head into your hair.

"What show d'ya want to watch?" he said all muffled, pressing a small kiss onto your head after.

"Gilmore Girls. You were binging it with me the last time you slept over, remember?" you said, looking up at him. He hummed in response.

"I remember. It's that favorite show of yours." he replied, smiling to himself when he noticed you didn't continue watching it without him, the episode displayed on the 'continue watching' panel being the one you left off on last time.

You both watched in silence filled with only the sounds of your reactions to some scenes. You both only paused to get your pop tarts and coffee, but JJ offered to get it for you before you could even stand up.

After a few episodes, you decided to speak. "Y'know, a lot of people like Jess, but I just can't see why." you said nonchalantly.

JJ looked at you with a confused expression and furrowed brows. Not that he was the biggest fan of that character, but he was curious as to why.

You took his look as a sign to expound on your stand. "Mm, he just doesn't seem to have the best influence on Rory. Not that he really influences her or anything, but you know what I mean?" you sat up straight to look at the blonde boy next to you.

"Not that Dean was either, I remember you droning on and on to me about that one house wife episode. What was it again? Diane Reed?" JJ replied. "Donna Reed. And you know I don't like Dean at all, I just don't think Jess was that big of an upgrade." you simply shrugged.

"And why is that? He and Rory have more things in common than she and Dean did." the blonde inquired.

"It's not really a problem with compatibility. He's just getting into fights all the time, he's incredibly disrespectful to both Luke and Lorelai, even Rory sometimes! And the whole bad boy, good girl thing they have going on isn't exactly the best thing." you said.

JJ doesn't know why, but he somehow felt himself getting defensive.

He scoffs. "So what, they're in love! Since when was opposites attract a bad thing?" his tone was shifting now, and this took you aback.

"He picks fights for no reason! I'm sorry that I'm not soft for him all because he likes to read books!" you met his tone with a hint of sarcasm.

"Is this because he's not some rich kid with a trust fund like Rory? Are those your standards?" he said. You were just bewildered by this argument now.

"Where are you even getting this?" you asked in disbelief.

"Look, I'm just saying that I don't see anything wrong with Jess! It just seems like you're nitpicking what he does." JJ was standing up now.

"Why are you taking this so personally? Is it so wrong for me to dislike a character?" you stood up as well.

"I don't know. It just seems weird that a character you don't exactly like is damn similar to me!" the blonde said, frustration mixed with confusion laced in his voice.

"What? JJ, you and Jess are two completely different people. I don't know what you're talking about--" you were cut off by him discarding your statement with a wave of his hand.

"You know what, I should really head over to John B's. I'll see you later." he said blandly, walking past you and heading for the door.

"You idiot!" Kie exclaimed once JJ stopped his retelling of that morning's events. "You know she would never even think about comparing you to someone in such an awful manner, gosh. That girl loves you so damn much it actually concerns me. Don't get me started on when you brought up the trust fund thing" she scolded.

"And dude, for the record, this Milo Ventimiglia guy is way hotter than you." John B said, showing them all a photo of him he found on google as if to say this was a reason the two couldn't be compared.

"Wow, thanks JB." JJ said sarcastically.

"Look, man, your girl's smart. She'll realize what you were implying with your argument and might get hurt." Pope added. Kie nodded furiously.

JJ's blue eyes softened at the thought of his words hurting his own girl. "Oh, man." he sunk into the couch, burying his face in his hands. After a few moments he sat back up properly. "Okay, hopefully she's still going to the party, if I can't make amends there I'll buy flowers and go to her house." he continued seriously.

Sarah was sitting on your bed as you threw clothes around your room from your closet in search of an outfit all while filling her in on your argument with JJ.

"I mean, how could he even think that I was comparing him with a character I was talking distastefully about? JJ's perfect to me, I don't see how he's as 'bad' as Jess as he thought I was implying." you rambled while inspecting one of your laced tank tops, nodding to yourself and throwing it onto your bed as a sign of approval.

"I didn't realize that what I was saying seemed to hit him where it hurt. I feel bad about that, but I'm still frustrated." you continued while eyeing two sweaters in your hands, deciding to go with the one that belonged to your boyfriend.

"You didn't know. Honestly, I think JJ still thinks he's not good enough for you. Not just with the whole kook and pogue thing he told us before." your friend said while tracing her finger over the lace on your top.

You paused and threw a pair of shorts next to your sweater and top before turning around to face Sarah.

"He thinks that?" you asked with soft eyes. "Oh.. I'm taking this as you guys haven't talked about that yet." she said.

"No, we haven't. I didn't even know he felt that way" you said.

Sarah smiled. "Well, a reason to talk to him later. Right?" she asked with a slightly tilted head. You gave her a tight lipped smile and a nod.

"Yeah. And here I was thinking seeing him later was a bad idea." you said, more to yourself than to your friend.

"You better get ready then, party starts in an hour. I'll help you with your makeup." Sarah said, standing up and handing you your outfit.

Your ears were filled with the sounds of party music, loud cheering, chattering, the opening of bottles of booze accompanied with the chants of some random guy's friends telling him to chug.

You were walking around the party on your own, Sarah already went her own way to look for John B.

Your eyes scanned the beach for the head of blonde hair and blue eyes you loved dearly. You were still eyeing the area as some guy randomly walked up to you and started trying to flirt with you by using pickup lines.

Your ears practically tuned his voice out from the get go.

Your heart rate seemed to have picked up when you saw your boyfriend from afar with some of his other friends that seemed only a bit familiar to you. He looked happy. Smiling widely and laughing after downing a red cup filled with beer with ease.

After looking at him for a few seconds, practically burning a whole into his skull with your gaze, he turned around and made eye contact.

You turned around almost immediately and shifted your attention to the guy in front of you.

"I'm sorry, what was that?" you asked in pure confusion, clueless as to why this man even approached you.

He smirked. "Well, my last statement was asking how a pretty girl such as yourself is alone at a blowout like this." he said.

You took a half step back in slight discomfort. Unbeknownst to you, this didn't go unnoticed by JJ and he immediately excused himself and made his way over to you.

You didn't realize the blonde boy's presence until you felt the all too familiar warm hand of his snake around your waist, pulling you close.

After looking up and seeing him, you faced the guy in front of you with a small smile. The poor boy seemed confused.

JJ shifted his gaze to you. "This a new friend of yours baby?" he gestured the hand that held his red cup towards him.

"Oh, uh- I didn't know you had a boyfriend." he scratched the back of his neck.

"You never gave me the chance to tell you." you simply shrugged.

"Okay then.. Bye." he backtracked as he stated before walking off in long and fast paced strides. JJ simply laughed at this.

"J, can we talk?" you turned to face him properly, looking around to to signal that the conversation should be held somewhere more private. He nodded and you both went to the empty side of the beach.

Once you were both just standing still, there was a rather awkward silence.

"You look gorgeous tonight, as always." he said with a smile that you returned.

"I'm sorry." he simply said. You looked up at him, confused. "I overreacted." he continued.

"JJ, I'm sorry. I didn't realize that what I said could come off as comparison." you said as you looked down.

JJ furrowed his eyebrows and held your chin, tilting it upwards so you were looking at him.

"Why are you apologizing? You couldn't have known. It's just- well, sometimes I can't help but feel that you're too good for me" he said, dropping his hand to your hips as he threw the red cup to the ground so his other hand could mirror this. He played with the hem of your sweater.

"Yeah, a little birdie told me you thought that." you said, the frown on your face somehow heard in your voice. "Sarah," JJ practically groaned to which you nodded.

"I don't get how you could even think that. I think the opposite at times, you're too good for me." you shook your head.

JJ tilted his head to the side as if his reason was the most obvious thing in the world. He scoffed slightly with a smile. "Just look at you. We're from two different social classes, you're a total good girl, and let's face it. I get into fights like Jess and I admit that I'm not the best influence." he said.

"Those social classes don't matter. And JJ, hey look at me, you are not Jess. You get into fights because you're defending your friends, you're defending me. You are loyal, amazing, a person with all these good adjectives and a great heart. You're respectful, my parents love you. I love you. So don't you ever think that you're not good enough because you're more than enough. Got it?" you said as you trapped his face in between your hands.

His hands were on your wrists, and he was smiling with tears slightly welling in his eyes. "I love you, so damn much." he whispered lovingly before pressing a kiss into the palm of your hand. You smiled widely at this.

"Let's ditch this party, wreck our plans." you said as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Not a bad idea, let's hit the chateau this time." he replied, pulling you flush to him. You smiled and pressed a quick kiss onto his lips.

After pulling away you decided to message Sarah before leaving.

Hey, I'll be heading back early tonight.

You picked up JJ's red cup from the ground to dispose of properly before standing up and intertwining your hands together.

"You pick the show this time." you told him. "Sounds great to me." he smiled before falling into step with you.

Your phone dinged, indicating that Sarah responded. You shook your read with a smile as you read the reply.

Yeah right.

juls speaks. I HOPE YOU GUYS ENJOYED! this was so cute to write oh my gosh, i swear, this had me giggling and all.

#juls writes <3 #jj maybank #jj maybank fluff #outer banks #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #obx

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nomazee · 1 year

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pry your way in

sebastian (sdv) x gn reader

word count: 4.7k (oh my god)

content: mutual pining, ROMANTIC TENSION, aggressive pining on the reader’s part, do they kiss or do they not, social anxiety (can u TELL), embarrassing situations, comedy (maybe) (hopefully) (maybe you’ll get a little giggle out of this and swing your feet around), so much build up, the slowest burn you could possibly get in under 5k words

notes: oh HEY guys so i went crazy again and i don’t think i’ve ever written so much in one sitting. this is insane. look at what this game has done to me.

part 1 part 2 (you are here) part 3

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All you need to do is drop off these stupid eggs in Gus’s fridge. That’s it. In and out and then you can go home and pretend that you did not stare at Sebastian for almost an entire straight minute in the doorway of the saloon.

He’s too busy playing pool, you think, and from the brief (many) glances you’ve taken at them, it looks like he’s pretty close to beating Sam. Your heart goes out to the blonde. One day, for sure, he’ll be able to get more than three balls in an entire game against Sebastian.

The fridge door is open now. No one notices you except for Emily, who gives you a kind nod and a smile. You don’t know if you should be upset by the fact that no one really talks to you whenever you go to the saloon unless you talk first, or if you should be incredibly relieved. It’s leaning to the latter, because you don’t think you could handle being looked at right now especially by Sebastian because good god the jellyfish thing was so embarrassing and you really hope he’s forgotten about it because oh my god you actually almost puked all over his shoes and what is wrong with you and—

“Farmer!” Oh god. It’s a woman’s voice. It’s Abigail, and despite the fuzz in your mind you can tell by the timbre of her voice and the fact that the shout came from over by the pool table. You managed to get two eggs in the container in the fridge before being ousted. Good job. You hope Gus’ extreme ginormous 24-egg omelet is worth all of this.

If you tried really hard, you could have played it off as if you didn't hear her at all. But then she’s walking over to you and you hear her footsteps and they’re light, friendly. Unfortunately, that does nothing to stop you from freezing up and feeling every individual cell in your body go taut.

Maybe she’s going to kill you, or something, because maybe you did actually puke all over Sebastian’s sneakers nights before this and your mind just blocked it out. Oh god. Well, this town was nice while it lasted. You hope they’ll bury you in a nice spot out of courtesy.

Turning to face Abigail, you manage to give her a shaky sort of grin and wave. “Oh. Hey. I didn't know you were here.” You are such a liar. And a bad one, probably.

“Yeah! Me and Sam and Sebastian.” You nod at that. A pause, and then, “Hey, are you busy tonight? We were wondering if you wanted to join us. We’re playing pool, but— um, it’s mainly just those two playing. They’ve got a rivalry going on.”

She looks back at them and watches, amused, and you do the same for a moment. Sam is in the middle of making some big joke-y scene, throwing his head back and groaning and swatting at Sebastian while the other man just barely ducks away from his attacks. They’re laughing, and elbowing each other and you look away before either of them notice that you’re watching with the intensity of a wild deer.

“Oh, I don’t know. Thank you. I don’t want to come if not everyone wants me to join.”

“Everyone does,” Abigail tells you, and she’s really telling you. With purpose. There is something in her eyes. Something imploring and meaningful and her lips are quirking up in some pretty and teasing smile, and you’re wondering what’s so different about the way Pelican Town people are raised to make them carry so much weight in their eyes. So much weight that it makes you dizzy. And nauseous. And now maybe you’ll puke on Abigail’s shoes, instead.

“Okay.” It comes out as a whisper from your shaky mouth. She only smiles brighter at you. You register that you’re still behind Gus’s counter and there are drinks being shaken and poured just steps behind you. “Okay, I’ll be over in a second.”

Great, she tells you, and then she’s turning around and walking away with a little jump and you might throw up because why did you agree to this? You did not plan on talking to people this evening. Not at all. And you’re wishing so hard that you had just dropped these eggs off in the morning. This is the type of stuff that happens when you don't just drop eggs off in the morning. Just your luck.

You shake your head, as if maybe it’ll rattle your senses into being ready to spectate a pool game and talk with people for at least half an hour. And Sebastian. You don’t think you could handle the intensity of just sitting next to him. You might throw up again. All over the pool cues and the fuzzy cloth of the pool table. And maybe Sam’s shoes. Everyone’s shoes are getting thrown up on this week.

Eventually, you make the walk out from the counter and consider just leaving through the door and telling Abigail later on that you just felt sick and needed to go home. It wouldn’t be a lie. You are a person of half-truths, most definitely.

But you don’t, because you like Abigail and you want her to like you too. By the look of everything she’s done for you, you’re fairly certain that she does like you, or at least more-than-tolerates you, and you would like to keep it that way instead of burning down all of your Stardew Valley relationships in a slow, painful fire. (And okay, yes, maybe it’s a benefit that she’s friends with Sebastian. So what.)

You blink. You’re in front of the three of them. Abigail and Sam are smiling at you and Sebastian is giving you a look. What is it with the people in this valley and their looks?! You have yet to be able to decode any of them. This is rough. So rough. You’re falling back into the uncomfortable feeling of otherness. Of just-barely-not-fitting. Like squeezing between a desk and a wall. Every other day you are walking through just fine, and the other days you are squeezing between this town and the people and everything you have yet to learn.

You might puke. You’re not making it out of this saloon alive.

“Hey, farmer!” Sam greets you, and your chest is struck with endearment over how everyone calls you farmer. Maybe it’s just because they forgot your name, but you can’t seem to mind it at all. “Are you joining us?”

“Oh, just for a bit,” you tell him. You can’t help the smile that takes over your face, warmed and sheepish. “And then I should go. But I’m a big fan of watching you guys argue over pool. Really, it’s very captivating.”

Abigail chortles, taking pleasure in the playful sarcasm you’ve adapted to. When Sam and Sebastian both follow suit in their own little laughs, your defensive habits slip away the slightest bit. And you can’t seem to find it in you to hold onto them.

“Less of an argument and more of a…” Sebastian pauses with a teasing glance at his friend. Your heart stops for no reason other than you being stupid and in love, and it only chokes you up when he directs his stupid stupid pretty eyes right at you. “More of Sam being a sore loser. It’s an easy win on my part, really.”

A snicker escapes you, undignified in how easily you let it out and how it threatens to reverberate against the walls of the game room. You’re holding onto yourself for dear life, trying to ground yourself in some attempt to maybe keep some of your dignity before it’s worn away through the course of the evening.

But Sebastian has this prideful simper on his face and it’s like he’s happy to make you laugh. Maybe it’s the loving delusions running through your head. But you let yourself dream, just for a minute.

Stupid boy. The urge to kiss him is slowly hurtling its way through your entire system, and it’s starting with your respiratory tract judging by the way you can’t seem to catch a breath. Stupid. Boy.

“You can sit down, you know,” and he nods his head to the pair of chairs behind him. “Stay a while.” His eyes are filled with a stupid teasing glimmer and you might pull him aside just to kiss that expression right off his face.

You won’t. Obviously. Because look at what happened last time you let your inhibitions run free. (Absolutely. Nothing.)

Maybe I will, you want to say, stay a while. Maybe I’ll stay forever.

You take a seat, and Sebastian is still leaning against the table with his pool cue in hand. He is looking at you, hesitant, with his mouth slightly open like he wants to say something. Before he can, Abigail interrupts.

“Wait, let me take over for you!” She says, rushing forward to steal the cue from him. “I want to play! You guys, like, totally monopolize the table every time we’re here.” Abigail’s eyes flit to Sebastian, then to you, and she continues, “Next time, let’s just play the two of us. You and me, farmer.”

There’s another big, stupid smile stretching your face taut and you hope none of them notice your cracked, drying lips. They’re peeling open from how much you’re grinning tonight and how much you’re not moisturizing them. “Of course.”

Sebastian is left with nothing in his hands once Abigail turns to aim her cue and hit the white ball (poorly) in an attempt to keep up Sebastian’s winning streak. With her and Sam occupied, you are left with the black haired man standing aimless in front of you. Again. And his eyes are trailing you, with purpose and a goal to speak. Again.

You throw his words back at him with, “Well, sit down. Stay a while.” And he does. And your stupid mind is wondering if maybe him following you so easily means something. Stupid stupid.

“How’s, um. Your stomach,” he asks, stunted pauses littering his voice as he tries his best to look at you. You don’t know what he’s talking about, and it must show on your face because he’s clarifying, “From the ceremony last week. I haven't seen you since then so I figured you must’ve been sick.”

Sebastian is prying. Not in his words, but in the way he’s looking at you. Really, really looking, and this feels like a repeat of last week and you are reliving a million and one things that you would rather never relive again.

Your palms are suddenly cold and you’re avoiding his gaze, body stiff with guilt. You’d been avoiding him for a week and you honestly hadn’t even noticed. It was like a subconscious response to humiliating yourself in front of the pretty boy that you’ve liked for weeks now. You hope he doesn’t blame you for that, somehow.

“Right. Um, I was fine. I’m fine now, I mean. I turned out fine. Sorry for all of that,” your feet are shuffling against the ground and you drag patterns into your pants to comfort yourself. “It was kind of embarrassing. To have you walk me home and then suddenly get sick. I really am sorry for that.”

“Don’t even worry about it.” There’s a sureness in his voice. When you find the courage in your lungs to turn and look at him, you’re met with a furrowed brow and steady eyes. It’s overwhelming you with ten different feelings, many of which are yelling at you to KISS HIS STUPID FACE. “Seriously. It wasn’t embarrassing, either. Things happen. I’m just glad you’re okay, now.”

Sebastian ends it with another one of his chest-aching, brain-melting, palm-sweating smiles and he’s doing that stupid thing with the corners of his mouth. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it, and that’s what frustrates you the most. Maybe you should tell him, but he would take it the wrong way and stop doing it and you wouldn’t survive without seeing that stupid smile. As much as it makes you want to tear your hair out if you look at it for too long.

You give him a firm nod. The rest of the night is easy conversation. You have one drink. Really, you make sure of it, because you haven’t gotten intoxicated in months and you really don’t want to see what drunk-you does in Stardew Valley in front of the sweet townspeople and the stupid pretty man in front of you. Said stupid-pretty-man follows suit, only having a pale ale and indulging in shirley temples for the rest of the night. (You punch yourself for finding it endearing that he likes such a sweet drink. Urgh.)

It feels like a parallel universe of the Moonlight Jellies celebration of last week. One where you are a much less awkward person (but, really, there’s just barely a difference between now and before), and where you offer to walk him home instead of the other way around. Your stupid infatuated heart skips a stupid beat when you ask him if you can walk him back, but it quells when he gives you an easy smile and agrees. You pointedly ignore the voice in your head telling you that he sounds almost enthusiastic.

Sam and Abigail wish you goodnight, and they’re both beaming at you in a silly way that makes you follow suit. Giggles bubble in your chest and you don’t even know why. You think they must just have those kinds of personalities, and you really couldn't be more happy to seep into it.

You don’t hold Sebastian’s hand on the way back. Not at all. In fact, you don’t even feel the urge to. You totally, totally don’t look at his hand swaying between you and fight the instinct to grab it and trace your fingers across his palm lines and the dips of his knuckles and all the scars he’s collected in his youth. You. Do not. Feel that way at all.

It’s easy conversation, yet again. It’s almost impressive how, even with how easily you seem to do the most mortifying, awkward things in front of Sebastian, you still slip into moments with him where you can talk like you’ve known each other forever. God. Something about this town. You can’t tell if you want to catch the next operable bus out of here or stay here forever. You feel that way often, actually.

Before you know it, you’ve cut through the city and ended up in the mountains and in front of his house. The lights are off. It must be super late, then, if everyone’s dead asleep like that.

Crickets chirp and buzz in the air. You and Sebastian stop walking in the middle of the large dirt patch that takes up his front yard. Now, you’re looking at each other, and he’s giving you his awkward stupid gorgeous downward grin. You hope that you’re giving him something at least half as pretty, with the way you feel your lips stretch and crack again. You really need to get lip balm from Pierre’s.

“It’s so late,” you mutter, because you don’t know what else to say and your heart is melting and slipping right out of your chest and onto the soil. “I guess I should go home.”

You hope—cross-your-fingers-say-a-prayer type of hope—that he hears the hesitancy in your voice. That he realizes you don’t want to leave. That he sees the fondness in your eyes and how you’re trying to soften every defense mechanism you’ve ever learned in order to pry into him, now. And you hope. Cross your fingers and say a prayer. That he wants that, too.

He hums a thoughtful, quiet sort of hum. Sebastian doesn’t move towards the door, or bid you a goodnight, or nod along and tell you he’ll see you another day. He waits. He is looking at you and prying you open and trying to gauge your reaction. To what, you don’t know, but there’s a static feeling in your head that tells you to wait and find out.

“Right,” he says finally. His voice and his mouth curl carefully around the word, and it’s there again—the pauses, the hesitancy. You see your habits in him and you are aching with the need to find out what he means. What this all means. And you’re feeling stupid, and so you wait, too.

“I think I feel bad leaving you to walk home,” Sebastian tells you. He’s speaking slowly, but not in a degrading way. It feels more like he wants the words to float to you and sink into the pores of your skin. And they do. They do, and it’s embarrassing, because now you’re sweating and hoping (again) that it doesn’t show on your face or your hands or the twisting of your fingers. “This is really far from the farm, you know.”

“I think I would know,” you respond, teasing and lighthearted and acting like there isn’t a saturated yearning weighing down your body right now. “I can manage. I’ve been in the mines, you know. Seen all the monsters down there and everything.”

He lets out a stupid breathy laugh and shakes his head. You hate how he acts so nonchalant, like it’s not obvious that you’re fighting the instinct to pick him up and shake him around like a bobblehead until his skull pops right off his neck. “Right, because there’s totally monsters down there.”

“There are! You can come with me one day. I’ll prove it to you.” And it’s risky, to entertain that kind of thing, the concept of you two spending time together alone, where no one can see. Sebastian takes that as a challenge, apparently, because the diffident tilt of his lips turns smug and he’s saying,

“Then maybe you’ll sleep over one day.”

Stttttupid boy. He’s stupid. The stupidest man you’ve ever met because now you’re really, really holding onto every last shred of your self-control. The thought of you in his house, with you both sleeping in the same twenty-foot-radius of space is making you heat up more than the valley’s summer sun. A frog croaks in a nearby bush. Nausea pools in your intestines.

And you’re a terrible person, really, because even though you’re sweating and lightheaded from the heat you’re entertaining the thought of you both sleeping in the same bed. And it’s ridiculous. Really. You’re both adults who are perfectly capable of sleeping in the same bed without it meaning anything. Any particle of logic that enters your brain is vaporized by the heat of it. Your stomach is twisting and you swallow around the lump in your throat.

He’s watching you. Still watching. Waiting for something to happen. The look he’s giving you is bordering on defensive, as if he’s anticipating a rejection. Stupid man. By now, he should realize you’re not prone to giving him rejections, of all people.

“Maybe I will.” By some grace of whatever higher power is listening, you choke out the last puddles of your strength into a hopefully-confident tone of voice and the last words you have left in you for the night. It’s not a rejection. You hope he understands that. And he does. Oh, he has to understand what you mean by now, because he’s biting his lips and still. Looking at you. And waiting. All he does is wait. And you glance down and see his hands twitching at his sides. And you are going to do something. Something.

Oh, god. You’re thinking, Oh, okay, this is what this is, and he’s doing his stupid smile and the corners of his lips tuck in and you’re staring at them again. Really, really staring at them. You hope he notices. Your fingers are twitching now, too, almost aching with the need to hold something—to hold him and his twitching hands and spin them around in yours like a fingertrap. You want to get stuck and woven together, just for a moment. An aching, hurting, burning, devastating moment.

It’s all you want. It’s all you’ve wanted for weeks now. And there’s a heat in your chest and your fingers and your head. Fingers twitching, eyes unblinking, and hands sweating; you wait. Wait for him to come closer. For him to do. Something. Soon.

It’s an impossible task for you. You are not one for initiative. Never have been, not since you left your stupid office job and took up your place on this stupid farm and fell in love with this stupid man. Initiative is a daunting, horrifying, overwhelming concept, and all of your ambition has been drained from you ever since you planted your first parsnip in the ground.

But but but. And this is how it always goes with you and Sebastian. But but but. There’s something about tonight. Something about tonight and the last week and the week before and the seasons before this that have carved this open wound into the middle of your diaphragm. Without even knowing it, Sebastian has clawed his way between your lungs and made an uneasy home in your heart. It’s disgusting, and maybe you’ll cough up all this adoration right on the doormat of his family’s house.

How long has it been? How long have you both been standing here like idiots and waiting and breathing and staring? How long? You are asking yourself too many stupid questions. Initiative. You think of it again—and now your hands are on Sebastian’s shoulders and you don’t have half the mind to wonder when you stepped closer.

You are not slow in your movements. Not at all. You are urgent and desperate and aching, but you give just enough time for him to pull away. In the back of your head, you wish that he’ll pull back and leave you empty and cold. But there is a warmth seeping through the cloth of his hoodie and tonight, you are stupid.

You’re staring for just a moment before you close your eyes and surge forward slow enough for him to stop you, but fast enough that he won’t get the chance to look at your embarrassing, longing, yearning face before you kiss him.

Because that’s it. You’re kissing him. You’re kissing him, with your hands gripping his shoulders with bruising strength, and with your feet planted into the ground to stop yourself from either floating or flinging yourself into the lake. You’re kissing him. And he’s not pulling away. And his hands reach to touch your elbows gently. For a moment, you think he’ll shove you down and run away, but his fingers are tapping along your arms, leaving a buzz in your bones and your head and your heart.

You. Are kissing him. You are. You fucking. Did it. Joy floods your buzzing body and you hope he can’t hear how loud your skull is vibrating, how intensely your chest is rattling. Or how heavy your hands have become on his shoulders and how much you’re pushing back against him to get further, to pull him into you and you into him and pour in everything you’ve ever felt straight to his lungs. You’re kissing him.

And he’s warm. So warm. Unexpectedly so, and you feel your entire body heat up in innocent adoration and you want his fingers to curl around your forearms and ground you. His hands shift, and for a minute you think he might pull away, but now he’s dragging his fingers in small paths up your arm, above your elbow and brushing your shoulders. Ggggggggod. God. You’re gonna scream into his mouth and slap him. Stupid man.

In reality it lasts for a second, but the rush of feelings and thoughts and screams and cries that overwhelms your body makes it feel like it’s an hour. (At least ten minutes, maybe.) You wonder how he feels. You wonder if he’s trying to pour everything into you through this, too; or if maybe, he’s a normal fucking human being who is just kissing you to kiss you without all the grandeur and flourish and waxing poetic. Unbothered, you realize you won’t mind regardless of which it is.

Your eyes are closed, and you hope his still are, too, because if he opens them and sees you you might throw up all over him. For the fortieth time this week.

“Sebas— oh!”

And. There’s a voice and a distressed exclamation. It’s Robin. Holy shit. It is his mother.

The man you just spent an hour kissing (read: five seconds max) takes a moment to realize what just happened. You, on the other hand, have a ridiculous supercomputer in your head and you have long since figured out what just happened. You cannot believe this. This is embarrassing. A trip back to Zuzu City is well deserved now.

“I’m— so sorry. Oh goodness.” Robin is being way too polite. You’d thought for sure she would’ve yelled at you and banned you from coming to the mountains ever again. You already kissed goodbye to both Sebastian (literally) and your mining career. And half your fishing career.

Sebastian’s face is flooded in color. It’s soaked in red and radiating heat that you can feel even with the ten-foot distance you had placed between yourselves. He’s not looking at you or his mother, eyes instead fixed on the patch of torn up dirt behind you.

Finally, you process that Robin is the one apologizing to you, which is ridiculous and you wish she would’ve just pushed you into the river and screamed at you instead. You wish these people would’ve been a lot meaner to you already, and then maybe you would have never worked up the gall to kiss the man you’re stupidly in love with and cause this whole ordeal.

“I’m so sorry,” and you’re the one saying it this time. You turn to look at Robin fully and resist the urge to fall to your knees and beg for her forgiveness. Tonight, you committed a mortal sin—giving her son a big fat heart-stopping kiss on the mouth right in front of their house—and you can only be forgiven by death, and death alone.

There’s a confused look in her eyes, almost worried, and you think you might be actually shaking enough to launch yourself into the stratosphere like a space cannon. Instead, you channel the energy into completely turning yourself around and running away from the both of them.

Disastrous. This night has been disastrous. You would’ve rather actually puked on everyone’s shoes instead of going through whatever the hell that was. You’re never going to catch a break in this stupid town with these stupid people and stupid Sebastian and his too-sweet-for-her-own-good mom.

When you get home, you’re panting in exhaustion from sprinting across the valley, and your nerves and head are still buzzing and your lips are still warm from Sebastian’s being completely and willingly planted on them for about ten whole seconds. Your brain is too fried and melted to even consider the implications of everything you both just did, but you can’t seem to care.

You’re embarrassed. Wholly and utterly humiliated, and for a moment you cross your fingers and pray to whoever will listen that you won’t be a topic of discussion during Robin and Sebastian’s family dinner with everyone else.

You take a moment to catch your breath (an impossible thing) and finally collapse into your bed. You’re staring at your ceiling for what feels like hours, but you have a very poor sense of time and don’t trust that judgment at all. Everything settles in your head like mud shaken in a jar of water. And you smile. Dear god. Despite it all, you’re smiling and giddy and laughing to yourself, riding a high of schoolgirl-type-infatuation and post-kiss-adrenaline the weird, cruel excitement of the night.

You kissed him. You kissed Sebastian. You. Fucking. Did it.

The rest can be worried about tomorrow. Or maybe the day after that. Maybe even never, because you are absolutely going to avoid everyone and move in with the wizard instead, living in isolation for the rest of your life. But for now. You swing your feet and giggle like a twelve-year-old and replay the kiss in your head. Over and over. Like a sleep aid. You fucking did it.

#stardew valley x reader #sdv x reader #sebastian x reader #sebastian sdv x reader #sebastian stardew valley x reader #stardew x reader #stardew valley fanfic #sebastian sdv fanfic #sebastian stardew valley fanfiction #sdv x player #sebastian x player #sdv x farmer #stardew valley x player #stardew valley x farmer #sebastian x farmer #stardew valley #AAAAA I DID IT

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sameschmidtdiffname · 2 months

Text

Slip

Mike Schmidt x Gender Neutral! Reader

Summery: At some point or another, the words slip out. It's just that, naturally, you're an idiot who can't pick the right moment.

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific pronouns for reader, night terrors, disassociation, attempted comfort, miscommunication, brief non sexual shower scene, unintentional harm, anxiety, sweet ending. (fr this time, I'm not pulling a 'Repentance.') Slight spoilers for 'Petals On The Wind' by V.C. Andrews.

Notes: I had a vision and I tried. Pls give me mercy.

▪︎◇{¤♧■♧¤}◇▪︎

The night air is sweet, fresh with the smell of citrus from the soap I had used earlier that evening in my shower mixed with the damp smell of the dew forming on the grass and the leaves outside. The curtains shift slightly as the air spills into the dark room, the only light born by a small lamp clipped to the cover of my book as I read quietly.

Beside me lays Mike, facing the ceiling and looking as peaceful as he ever could. It was a relaxation that doesn't come to him in consciousness, too busy with thoughts I sometimes am not privy too. But I don't pry. I've heard most of the story from him and from Abby, and he is allowed to grieve the past alone. He knows I am always available to help him.

It had been a long day for him. He didn't need to tell me, it was obvious by the way he'd sat at the kitchen table, thinking he was alone and hands buried in his hair. I hadn't meant to spy on him, having just slipped out of my shower. He wasn't crying, but his face was pale and dreadful. The bags under his eyes a dark purple that they hadn't been earlier at dinner, and the haunted quality of his stare had increased in an alarming manner since I'd left him. Had he moved since dinner? Abby was in her room, her voice trailing quietly down the hall as she hummed to herself behind the closed door. The overhead yellow light directly above Michael made him look like a painting of doom, covered in shadows with sharp edges as dark as his thoughts.

When I guided him to bed he wouldn't talk to me. Not when I removed his shirt to change him into something clean. Not when I opened the bottle of pills he'd been able to relax on for the past couple weeks. And not when I held a glass of water to his lips, his mouth only moving to take a long drink before I guided him onto his back, where he stared at the ceiling quietly while I stroked his hair, watching him carefully until he drifted away into a drugged dream of obliviousness where hopefully he could find the peace he needed.

More often than not I read before bed. Usually Mike would lay his head on my chest, his eyes reading the same bits I would and commenting on something here or there, once in a while spoiling the next paragraph for me. But I never minded when he did, it was always an accident.

It did get to the point where Mike imposed a limit of two chapters a night, knowing I could become so enraptured in a story I wouldn't even pay attention to the world around me until I finished it, usually with the early light beginning to peak through the branches outside and create dancing rays of sun along our bed. It wasn't really a rule, more so a concerned request. There was no punishment if I didn't comply, if I deprived myself of sleep reading all that would exist as a reprimand is my own exhaustion. Mike would always silently pick up on this, more gentle with me and luring me away from my nightly ritual with his arms wrapped around my tired body, fingers combing through my hair and his even breathing coaxing me into the sleep I needed until his alarm would wake us, still wrapped around each other and warm in the morning glow of a new day with a new chapter. And recently I realized it was something about him I loved. Though I dare not say it out loud. Not yet.

I'm only a handful chapters into this book. It's one that I've read before, an ironic favorite from when I was younger and snuck books home that I'd borrowed from the woman next door after playing with her granddaughters. The subject of the novel was taboo, Gothic horror I would hide under my bed away from my mother's eyes until she would lay in her own bed, allowing me to click on a light and read until school the next morning. It's been years since I've revisited it, and this copy I had bought at a local thrift store for only a quarter with an excited smile, causing an amused look on Mike's face as he'd watched me.

"Shouldn't you read something you already own?" He'd teased while we walked out of the store hand in hand, Abby leading the way to our car.

I'd rolled my eyes, smiling as I checked for cars coming through the parking lot with no regard for little girls.

"Am I not allowed to spend a quarter on my passions?" I said.

"You absolutely are. I'm just wondering how you're going to read everything," he said with a small squeeze of his hand.

The answer is by drinking a cup of tea and working through the book in one sitting as he lays next to me, no work ahead of me for the next two days that would demand proper rest. No limitation able to stop me now. I'm a few hours into my plan when I notice his leg jolt beside mine, no movement otherwise.

I glance at him quickly, seeing if he's woken with a start. His eyes remain closed, lips parted slightly in sleep and otherwise seeming fine. So I resume my book, flipping to the next page to start chapter eleven.

Halfway through chapter thirteen, Mike gasps. Loud and quick, causing a cough to escape him. I slip a finger inbetween my pages, turning to face him and worry stabbing my chest as I wait for him to choke and thrash frantically. But he doesn't. He remains still, his pulse visible near his adams apple as his breath quickens slightly. I watch him, waiting for any signs of distress. But he remains still in sleep, and reluctantly I return to my book once more, having decided it was just a dream.

Finally, at the early hour of four o'clock his hand reaches out, nails digging into my thigh desperately in a way that's painful against my bare skin, raking down and surely creating a trail of blood in his wake as a short, startled yell of Abby's name pierces the air, his body going ridged. And then he's still, body shaking and eyes wide open in confusion, darting around the room as though he cannot place his environment in his still drugged state.

"Hey," I say softly, abandoning my book and turning to face him, unsure if I should touch him or what I need to say to tear him away from the horrors of his mind. "You're okay, you're awake now."

If he hears me he doesn't give any indication, his breathing so quick and unsteady I'm scared he'll knock himself out from hyperventilating.

"It's okay, it was a dream," I tell him. I place my hand apprehensively on his chest, feeling his heart slam against the cage of ribs below my touch. "You're awake now."

His head turns slightly towards me, but he's still panicking, his hand gripping my thigh hard enough hard with nails he hadn't meant to let grow out for the past couple weeks that I have to make a conscious effort to not whine in pain.

He's saying something, quiet and mixing with his irregular breathing as his other hand grabs my hand upon his chest, pressing it tightly against him. But I can't make it out, I can only hear fragments of 'sorry' and 'take.' And the words only blur more as he starts sobbing beside me, the noises he makes terrifying as he struggles for air.

"Let's sit up. Come on, let's sit up," I say. I'm close to panic myself, trying to find his shoulders to pull him up in fear of him choking in such a state. But his hand is too tight around mine, and trying to take it away seems to only cause further distress, his teeth gritting and nostrils flailing as he tries to breathe in as much air as possible. I manage to get one arm under his shoulders, wrapping it around his body and pulling us both up. The shift of his body seems to make something click, his hand suddenly releasing my thigh as he gasps once more, eyes seeming to show recognition of something.

"You're home. We're in our room, Abby is down the hall," I tell him.

"They'll come here, they knew where we live," he says in a rapid but finally coherent voice.

"Who?" I ask. He's scaring me, making me want to join him in my own hysteria. But I don't show it, the pain throbbing in my leg giving me a point of focus to keep my voice even. "No one's coming."

"My aunt- she- they-"

"She's not coming over, no one's coming to take Abby," I tell him, stroking him arm and trying to shift my body to face his. "Everyone's home and safe. I won't let anyone go."

This seems to hit him, his shoulders relaxing slightly. He looks at my face, staring and trying to focus on me.

"I won't let anyone go anywhere," I repeat gently. His shoulders relax, his body leaning towards mine.

"You don't have to worry," I tell him. "I'm here."

His head lands on my shoulder, hand still pressing mine tight against his chest as his arm finds my waist, body wracking with sobs.

"It's okay. Slow your breathing," I say softly, my hand finding his hair and holding him close against me. "Focus on me and slow your breathing."

He's trying, I can tell by the way he gasps against my chest in even tempo that he's trying to regain his breath. His skin is hot against mine, body wet with sweat. Maybe I should get this shirt off of him, take away the sticking cotton and allow his skin to feel the cool morning air against it to prevent overstimulation. Or maybe the sudden change would throw him into more distress. I don't know what to do, what to offer.

"Do you want me to distract you?" I ask. At this he lifts his head slightly, a small 'what?' Asking for me to repeat the question. "Do you want me to distract you?" I repeat, anxious I've said something wrong.

He seems to think for a moment, his heart still beating at a concerning rate.

"How long have you been reading?" He finally asks, eyeing the book I'd practically thrown to the edge of the bed in my panic.

"A few hours," I say. "Started reading when you went to sleep."

He nods, going silent once more for a few more minutes. I focus on his hair, how some curls wrap perfectly around my fingertips, how soft his hair is even though he doesn't take proper care of it.

"Is it any good?" He asks softly, his mouth against my neck as he tries to relax.

Okay, talk about the book. Book with dead parents. Ah, fuck.

"Not... particularly," I admit. "The first one was better."

"Yeah?" Mike asks. "How so?"

Well, Mike. This is a V.C. Andrews novel. So there's an unsettling amount of incest that serves a horrifying point that I don't think you wanna hear about right now because that's gonna take several hours for me to explain. I wish you'd asked sooner.

"...questionable decisions," I decide is how I'll phrase it.

"Sounds like me," he mutters against my skin.

"I promise you it isn't," I mutter back, trying to think of what to say next.

Mike doesn't say anything, still breathing hard against my skin but finally gaining a steady rhythm. His body shakes less, my fingers gently combing through his hair as I finally speak again.

"It's something you'd laugh at if you felt better," I feel stupid, useless as I try to bring him back to me. But it seems to work, his shaking decreasing as he focuses on my words. "The main character is... dramatic, and... passionate."

I feel his smile against my skin, his fingers stroking my waist. "Oh?" He asks.

"Mm-hmm," I say. He hums, waiting for me to continue. And I'm not sure if I should.

"What's the plot?" He asks. Not something you should hear in your state, Michael. Lots of people die.

"It's about..."

Fucking half the town out of spite.

"...family."

That's one way to put it.

"And... doing what's right."

By burning a house down.

"And taking care of those you love."

Well, at least that point is accurate.

He seems content with this, pulling me down onto the bed once more and keeping me close.

"Are you okay?" I ask him carefully.

"I will be," he says softly. "Thank you. For caring."

"Of course I care," I say with a small laugh of nervous relief. "I love you."

Oh.

Oh motherfucker, no.

"What?" Mike asks in a small voice, his body going still, mine going stiff.

Goddammit.

We've been together for about a year. And this is a normal point to finally say the words to each other, a sweet moment of realization and commitment that I'd been wanting to have. And I'd been trying to find the right moment, wanting to say it while he serves pancakes in the morning that he douses in syrup because he hates them dry. To say it when he pulls me close at night, taking a deep breath as he smells my hair. When he falls asleep on the couch or with his head on my lap. And maybe he's wanted to say it too, the way his eyes linger on me when I spin around the room with his sister, or when I fix her hair before walking her out the door, or when I slip out said door to return to my own home only to find myself back here the next day anyways, unable to stay away.

But this is the wrong moment. A moment of fear and terror and I have been selfish enough to dare utter such words that he may not even reciprocate while he's in such a vulnerable state. Shit.

"What did you say?" Mike asks, pulling away to look into my face, suddenly awake and clear of any fog that had been torturing him.

I can't speak. I can't tell him. What if he doesn't feel the same way? Or worse, what if he says it back in a desperation for approval after such pressure has been placed upon him to respond. Or what if he convinces himself he feels the same way only because I do?

"I- Shouldn't-" My head is shaking, eyes wide in worry as I try to think of a response.

"Shouldn't?" He says in the most heartbreaking voice.

"No!" This is all wrong! It all sounds wrong.

"Oh," he says quietly, eyes casted downwards.

"No, wait a minute. This is wrong-" I stutter, my hands shaking slightly.

"I heard you the first time," He says flatly, eyes avoiding mine.

"I'm sorry," I blurt out. "I didn't mean to say anything."

"Then stop saying things," He says sharply, pulling away and turning to face the room.

"I'm not- I can't-" One of the ways Mike and I understand each other is by the way vulnerability makes us choke, gagging on sincere words for fear of rejection and becoming fools. And this time is one of them, even if I'm fighting against it. The silence is too long as I choke on my own tongue.

"It's fine," he says. He stands from the bed, not looking back at me. "I'm gonna take a shower."

I open my mouth to speak, my mind urging me to extend my hand in explanation. But he walks quickly, opening and shutting the door before I can even begin to put the words together in my mind. And I'm alone. With no one but my book to offer comfort.

I try to read. Try to focus on Cathy's piss poor plan that ends with her toes broken because of her terrible husband that she married to avoid her adoptive father. (Don't ask.) But all I can think about is what I should have said. And what Mike must be thinking. Of course he misunderstood me, his mind still racing from adrenaline and nightmares of losing his sister, addled by his sleep medication that would still be in effect. Vulnerable situations are already tricky with Mike, who'd lost his family young and had been forced to create his own stability with no comfort or care returned to him until the past few years when he finally began to create a new inner circle. It was understandable that he was gun shy around this sort of topic. And his already darkened mind earlier today? What a horrible day for a moment like this.

It feels like an eternity, but it must have only been about half an hour when Mike comes racing back into the room. Wet, towel crudely wrapped around his waist and holding up his hand as he rushed towards the bed.

"There's blood on here," he said. "Who's is it?"

I squint as I try to look, reaching out for his hand. He offers it quickly, and at the sight I remember. My thigh. Earlier when he'd gripped it so hard, nails digging in. I can see the blood underneath his nails, dark and most likely having just been noticed by him.

"Earlier when you were upset you grabbed my thigh," I say. Within seconds he's on the bed, ripping the sheet off of me and dripping water all over the place. It's not exactly a pretty sight, cuts from where his nails had dragged and sunk into me. His eyes go wide, cheeks turning pink with shame.

"Jesus," he says. "I didn't mean to."

"I know, you were scared," I say. "Don't worry about it."

"Let me clean this," he says, moving to stand from the bed.

"Mike, we need to talk," I say, grabbing his wrist. He doesn't stop, trying to pull his arm free.

"After I clean this."

"No, now," I say. My voice sounds so much sharper than it should in a situation like this, like a command rather than a request. But he finally stops his rush, his eyes meeting mine as he stands still, gripping the towel around his waist as he contemplates.

"I left the water running," he finally says.

"Clean me in there," I offer thoughtlessly. He raises an eyebrow at me but doesn't question it, tugging me up by my hand and not letting go as we walk to the bathroom in silence.

The water stings on my cuts as Mike kneels in front of me, his body between my slightly parted legs as his hands wash me carefully, lathering soap and working at my thigh with careful concentration. 'It's been ten minutes. Say something, dumbass,' I think to myself.

"I love you," Mike blurts out suddenly. His hands don't rubbing soap onto my thigh, and his eyes don't meet mine. "And you don't have to feel the same way, but you should know that I do."

There's another long moment of silence, dread filling my chest.

"Why are you saying this?" I finally ask. He looks up at me with an unintentional glare.

"What?" He asks sharply.

"Are you saying this for me or for you?" I ask. His brows furrow.

"I don't know what you mean," he says.

"Earlier I said I love you and that was a mistake-"

"You don't need to remind me."

"No, my timing was a mistake. You were vulnerable," I say quickly, sliding quickly down the shower wall to join him on the floor of the bathtub. "Are you saying this because I said it or because you mean it?"

Realization seems to finally sink through, Mike blinking at me slowly.

"So, you love me?"

"I'm sorry that I was an idiot earlier-"

"But you love me?"

"I've been trying to say it for months, but I couldn't-"

Mike's kiss is hard and clumsy, teeth clicking together and making us both draw away in a fit of stupid, teenage like giggles from the way he'd tried to be romantic and jump on me, my face now covered in the orange scented soap from his hands.

"You need to lead with that next time," he says, laughing and covering my face in quick kisses without care that he's smearing the soap onto his face too. "You had me scripting our conversations for the next month in here."

"I was trying. You know I can't- that-" I can hardly respond between his kisses, tasting awful but so sweet I can't help but want more.

"I love you," he says. Then he says it again, and again. Like a dam has been broken and he can't stop the river spilling forth. "I love you."

"I love you too," I finally say, relieved and melting into his touch under the warm stream that he drags me under, holding me close to his body.

Later, as we lay in bed, I finally tell him the real plot of my book, to which he says "I take it back, get out," before dragging me under the covers to repeat his devotion again and again until we can't say it anymore. Coherently, that is.

¤▪︎{♧}▪︎¤

I'm gonna be fr, I haven't been happy with my writing lately and that's mostly due to my packed schedule. This is a draft I've been working on in bits and pieces for the last couple weeks when I've had a spare moment at work, and honestly will probably regurgitate at some point in the future when I have the time and energy to get more detailed with this concept in a more detailed fic. But for right now, I did want to put this out as a drabble. So, I hope you enjoyed it, and I promise I'll try to get some more properly fleshed out content out soon for y'all <3

Taglist:

@cassiecasluciluce @gh0u1ishly @joshhutchersons-slut @schmidtsbimbo @sugarevans @wompwompwomp57 @jhutchissupercool . Thank you for your support pookies!!! <3

•▪︎Masterlist▪︎•

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ihavemanyhusbands · 5 months

Text

I Found My Love in Portofino

Duncan Vizla x Assassin!FemReader

Also on AO3

Summary: Despite your promise to stay away, the lure of Portofino -- and who you might find there -- is too irresistible. Part 2 to The Black Kaiser's Nightmare

WC: 5.3k words

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), enemies to lovers speedrun into the bed, semi-public sex, mentions of violence, play fighting, breaking shit all over the place, abundant cursing, rough sex (unprotected, don't do it at home!), angst (but there’s a happy ending dw), I think that's it but lmk if I missed anything!

You are responsible for your own media consumption!

------

Sunshine, a gorgeous view, and the fragrant smell of the sea. What more could you possibly need?

Some dignity, perhaps.

But maybe you’d lost all of it on the other side of the world almost a year ago, buried under many layers of snow. Along with one too many promises you weren’t certain you could keep.

Then again, you’d desperately wanted a vacation somewhere warm, hadn’t you? And Portofino was beautiful that time of year, undeniably so. It was nearly impossible to resist its allure.

All you had to do was keep to yourself and not let your eyes wander in search of a familiar silhouette. Eat some amazing food, drink some great wine, and maybe brush up on your Italian. Nothing else. How hard could it be, really?

A few days had already passed with no issues, but at all times, there was the slightest prickle of awareness at the back of your neck. But still, you didn’t search.

At least you were slowly building a nice tan, which was long overdue. You’d spent most of your days at the beach, alternating between dips in the ocean and sprawling out on a towel to air dry. It was as close as you’d gotten to true peace in a long time.

Sometimes, when the waves rolled over you, they felt like a lover’s embrace. Powerful and all-consuming, right on the verge of being agonizing. The familiarity of this feeling and these sudden romantic notions were irritating, but you were always a creature of incandescent want. A fatal flaw, most likely.

When the sun began to set, hunger was the only thing that could pull you away. You’d found a place that you liked, which was perhaps a little too pricey, but the view was unbeatable and the food was definitely worth coming back for. On top of that, you felt like you deserved to spoil yourself at least a little bit.

You sat at your usual table, a salty breeze tussling your hair. A passing waiter smiled and nodded at you, already knowing your order. You smiled back, pushing your sunglasses atop your head.

The world was awash in golden light, the waves glittering like a dream in which swimmers basked. For a moment, as you stared off into the middle distance, your mind was blissfully blank. Not a worry to ruin things.

But then suddenly…

“Your champagne, signorina,” a voice said as an empty flute was set on the table. “And may I just add… you look ravishing when you are so relaxed. It really does suit you.”

You whipped around immediately, eyes widening and heart thumping like a war drum.

“You!” You hissed through clenched teeth, gripping your dinner knife.

Duncan, disguised as a waiter, smiled at you impishly as he poured the champagne. He was the picture of calm, unbothered by the real threat of another stab from you.

“I know you must’ve missed me terribly, but let’s not make a scene now,” he said easily. “I suppose your busy schedule had an opening after all?”

“I happen to like Italy, if you have to know,” you huffed, grabbing the flute and taking a sip. “I told you I wasn’t going to look for you, and I didn’t. You found me.”

“You made it rather easy, but I let you have a few days.”

You gestured at his attire. “And this is how you chose to approach. Real sneaky of you.”

His grin only broadened. “What can I say? I wanted to serve you.”

Annoyance flared to life inside of you, but it was paired with a familiar feeling that made you tightly cross your legs. You pursed your lips for a moment, but you didn’t really want to give him the satisfaction of seeing he was getting to you.

Instead, you leaned back in your chair with an equally sly grin and said, “So do it, then. You can only keep me waiting for so long…”

He nodded once, straightening up. “Right away. I’ll be back in a moment.”

As he walked away, your body relaxed and you let out a long exhale. Running a hand down your face in frustration, you chastised yourself again for not steeling your will more in the time you were apart. You glanced over your shoulder to make sure he wasn’t watching you and slumped in your chair.

A few restless minutes passed as you waited, but still he didn’t return. You drummed your fingers on the table as your impatience grew into frustration. Then you figured, this was probably his plan, right? To try and get under your skin as much as possible, make up for lost time. It definitely seemed to be his favorite activity. Or one of them, at least.

Fuck it. Who said you couldn’t retaliate just a little bit?

You downed the champagne in one go, perhaps for courage, perhaps just because you needed a reason to justify your recklessness. Standing, you made your way inside under the pretense of going to the restroom. You hadn’t really planned what you were going to do, but still you wandered by the kitchen.

From what you could see, he wasn’t there, which made you frown in confusion. It wasn’t a big establishment, so there weren’t many places where he could be. Half-dejected, you walked into the single-stall bathroom… and immediately the door slammed shut behind you, lock clicking into place.

Before you could process anything, strong arms enveloped you, pulling you against a solid chest. Duncan put a finger to his lips in a motion for silence, right before he threw himself on you, claiming your mouth. You practically melted against him, any sort of animosity you held forgotten for a moment.

But then, when the shock passed, you kissed him back roughly. You tugged at his hair and bit his bottom lip, letting him retaliate by pressing you against the wall, as if punishing both him and yourself for caving so easily to your desires.

“Already breaking promises, huh?” he said between kisses, chuckling as your hands briskly tried to undo his pants.

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “Or I’m gonna put your mouth to better use this time.”

“That reminds me…”

Abruptly, he gathered you in his arms and set you on the edge of the sink. He kneeled in front of you, reaching past the edge of your sundress and tugging loose the strings of your bikini bottom.

“I did say I would serve you,” he grinned, scooting closer and placing your legs on his shoulders. “Let’s see if you’ll be able to keep quiet now.”

You couldn’t keep your chest from heaving as he fully removed the fabric, tossing it to one side. He kissed his way up your inner thigh, his scruff lightly tickling the sensitive flesh. You suppressed a small shudder, readjusting your position.

As his tongue dipped directly into the source of your ache — the best way to properly savor you — you held onto his head with one hand and gripped the edge of the sink with the other. He groaned, breath hot against you, and trailed his tongue up to your clit.

He guided himself by your reactions — the small spasms of your muscles, your hitching breaths and the subtle hums of your concealed moans. He barely came up for air, content with the possibility of asphyxiation if it meant he’d never get the taste of you out of his mouth.

The precise, relentless way in which he pleased you nearly drove you to madness. His tongue circled around your clit slowly, almost teasingly, but whenever you were about to voice his frustration, he did the complete opposite to keep you on the edge. You looked down and met his gaze for a moment, fire burning in his eyes. The intensity of it made your pussy clench around his fingers, which he’d just added into the mix.

Your back arched, head resting against the mirror behind you. Your eyes were closed in bliss, knees drawing together around his head as you felt the beginning of an orgasm forming.

“Yes…” you sighed. “Yes! Right there!”

And that was all he needed to hear to ramp up the intensity further. Your body trembled, sweat-slick hand almost slipping off the porcelain. Your spine arched further, as if possessed, and a ragged moan escaped you as you came undone. Pleasure felt electric as it swept over you, and he moaned along with you as he helped you ride it out all the way.

As you were left panting heavily, limbs still shaky, he pulled back to look at you and licked his lips. You brought your legs off his shoulders and he stood in order to undo his pants, the hard imprint of his cock straining against the fabric almost painfully. Once it was free, he spat in his hand and stroked himself to spread the saliva.

“Get inside me,” you pleaded quietly, urging him closer, eyes still shiny with want. “Please, fuck, I need you inside me.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist this time and he guided himself into you slowly. He muttered your name under his breath as he bottomed out, leaning down to touch his forehead to yours.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t miss the way he seemed to fully envelop you. The heat emanating from him, his smell flooding your nostrils, and even the stretch of him inside you was divine… But you weren’t able to dwell on these thoughts as he began to move.

His large hands held you up by your hips as he pounded into you, no longer holding back. It seemed he had missed you just as much, and all he could do was make up for lost time.

He leaned down once more to kiss you as it became harder for you to contain your noises. More of your weight, combined with his, was leaning on the sink by then. As he hit that spot inside you that made your body jerk, you heard a crack.

You tried to ignore it for a moment as his movements turned erratic, grip tightening on your skin. He grunted with each thrust, snapping his hips roughly as you clawed at his shoulders.

Then his whole body tensed, and he pressed all the way into you in one final thrust. The sound that left him was nearly animalistic as he spilled his release inside of you… and it was at that moment that the sink gave out completely.

The porcelain loudly shattered against the linoleum floor as it broke off the wall. The newly exposed pipe gushed water, the puddle quickly spreading. Duncan caught you in his arms before you could fall as well, stumbling a little as he adjusted his position.

“Shit, that was my bad…” he panted. “I got a little carried away.”

The two of you dissolved into a fit of nervous laughter as the reality of the situation really settled in. Reflexively, you had wrapped your arms around his neck, your faces close together.

You could feel his pulse was just as hurried as yours, both of you still coming down from your highs. You avoided prolonged eye contact as you drew away with an amused grin, smacking his arm.

“Real smooth, breaking shit on your first day on the job,” you said.

He started to laugh, but suddenly, there was loud knocking on the door. A voice called in Italian to ask if everything was okay, the doorknob jiggling to no avail. You and Duncan looked at each other in a millisecond of panic before hastily starting to re-dress.

“Fuck, we have to get out of here,” you hissed as he helped you onto your feet, holding you for a moment as your legs wobbled. “Can’t we have a reunion where we don’t wreak havoc for once?”

“No,” he said, shaking his head as he buttoned up his pants. “I don’t think it’s possible.”

You rolled your eyes but said nothing, intent on assessing your options. The banging at the door didn’t stop, and you figured soon enough they’d get a key to open it. There was a window that seemed large enough for you to fit through, but you weren’t sure Duncan’s large frame would make the cut.

“One moment please! Everything’s fine!” You yelled back before turning to Duncan and lowering your voice. “I just realized I forgot my stuff out there.”

“I’ll go get it,” he said, ushering you towards the window and handing you your bikini bottoms. “I’ll meet you outside.”

You nodded, appreciative and just slightly flustered at the idea of having to sneak out commando while you were still holding in his… Well, that was probably the least of your worries at that very moment. One thing at a time.

“Try to leave them some money, too. We’ve done enough damage.”

He snorted. “Just wait ‘til we get to the hotel.”

You bit back your retort and instead focused on climbing out of the window without leaving a snail trail. Glancing around to make sure you were alone, you made your way to the front of the restaurant surreptitiously. Twice you had to stop and hide as you neared passerby, still jittery with adrenaline.

It was a thrill that felt both agonizing and yet somehow very arousing. You waited in a side alley, clamping your thighs together as you leaned against the wall. You just hoped Duncan wouldn’t get himself in deeper shit and take more drastic measures. He wasn’t charming enough to get out of trouble with just words, as you were well aware.

Finally, he emerged from the restaurant after what seemed like forever, dressed in casual clothes. You lifted your arm so he could see where you were, and he hurried over.

“How did you—” you began to ask, but you were interrupted by him clasping your wrist and dragging you away.

“Don’t ask,” he said. “But just so you know, I did get a couple of high-fives on my way out.”

—————————-

As it turned out, Duncan had been staying at the hotel next to yours. You had to stop to get his luggage first since he’d checked out of his room that morning, already having assumed he’d be staying with you.

You’d raised your eyebrows and scoffed at his overconfidence. Of course, you should’ve expected something like that to happen, but you’d been too caught up on whether you’d actually run into him or not.

The casualness between you felt strange, particularly given your history. He was definitely more at ease than he’d been a year ago, but uneasiness was like second nature to you. Sure, you were enjoying this new dynamic with him so far, but you weren’t sure how far was too far.

Fucking was one thing, but being on vacation together… You shook your spiraling thoughts out of your head as you led him through your hotel and up to your room. One thing at a time.

“And what would you have done if I decided not to give you the time of day?” You asked as you swiped the keycard to your room. “Sleep on a bench somewhere?”

“Oh please, haven’t I proven to be irresistible?” He said, tilting his head to the side as he smiled slyly.

“Yeah, well, I’m not covering the hotel costs for both of us, just so you know.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he wasn’t actually offended. “I can pay you with my body, that should be more than enough.”

You bit down an amused grin and said nothing, instead turning on the lights and showing him where he could put his stuff. He set it all down without real care as you began undressing, making him freeze on the spot.

But you weren’t trying to seduce him, at least not then, for there was only one thing on your mind. Your skin felt sticky with sea salt and sweat, your hair was all tangled by the wind, and there was still that little problem between your legs to take care of.

“Care to rinse off, then? I know I need to,” you said, casually stepping into the bathroom. “Shower’s got room for two.”

You got in before hearing his response, starting by washing your hair under the stream of hot water. As you were rinsing off the shampoo, eyes closed, you heard him get in. Your other senses were all too aware of his nearness, making you jump a little at an unexpected touch on your hand.

When you were able to open your eyes again, you saw he was washing himself. The way the soap suds slid down his muscles made you swallow hard, and he was smiling deviously when you moved to let him rinse off. He sighed with contentment at the water’s warmth, slicking his hair back, and you couldn’t help but keep ogling him.

Maybe he wasn’t so wrong about being irresistible… He really was beautiful.

When he turned around, you quickly averted your gaze and reached for the bar of soap, but he shook his head. “Allow me.”

He lathered some soap between his hands, taking it upon himself to wash your body. He kept eye contact as he started with your shoulders and arms, moving slowly but purposefully. Your limbs were loose as you let him keep going, adjusting you this way and that so he didn’t miss a spot.

Even as he reached more sensitive areas, his touch was tender rather than lascivious. Looking at the scars on each other was like a trip down memory lane, but it wasn’t a bitter remembrance. In fact, you felt yourself softening, almost vulnerable. So much stubbornness, so much time wasted, but it all had somehow led to such an intimate moment.

When he was done, you rewarded him with a soft kiss, more chaste than anything you’d had so far. You shut off the water and both of you got out to dry off quietly. It felt like talking might burst the bubble of… whatever feeling the two of you were so precariously sharing at that moment.

An idea struck you then, and you discarded your towel somewhere along the way. He watched as you opened the sliding doors to the private balcony, the faint light silhouetting you.

Up there, the faint roar of the ocean could still be heard. It was moonlight’s turn to glitter in the dark waves, but you put your back to the view as you gave him an inviting look.

Truth be told, you wanted to indulge in him as much as you could. A sense of urgency accompanied your arousal, like the opportunity might not come around again. Was it a sign? Could it be fate’s way of making you say goodbye?

The thought scared you more than you were willing to admit, so you decided to be mindless once again. You let the sea breeze envelop you once again, but soon after his arms took place, drawing you into his warmth. He searched your face for something, but you averted your gaze as you ran your hands up and down his chest.

“You’re quiet,” he noted. “You haven’t even threatened to kill me at least once since we got here.”

You shrugged, going on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck. “Does it matter?”

“Well, you know the violence is what gets me going…” he said with a smirk, but you could still see some concern in his eyes.

You kissed his bottom lip enticingly, returning the smirk. “Let’s tear each other apart, then. For good this time.”

And so he cupped the back of your head and crushed his lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and desperate, tongues dragging against each other. You reached between your bodies to touch him, fingers grazing the velvety underside of his hardening cock.

For a moment he lost himself to your touch, mindlessly chasing your lips as you withdrew, teasing him. You stroked the head with the tips of your fingers, and his hips bucked in search of more friction.

“Not gonna be so easy now,” you chastised playfully. “Gotta earn your stay.”

He gripped your hair, pulling your head back to expose your neck. His free hand roamed up your chest, splaying over your sternum and feeling your quickening heartbeat. He bent down to kiss your neck and collarbones, humming in fiendish delight as he heard your soft moan.

“You little devil,” he murmured. “You should know I won’t make it easy for you either.”

And so commenced a battle for dominance, in which the two of you did not play fair. You practically tackled him back onto the sunbed, frantically trying to pin his arms down. Your thighs pressed against his sides tightly, holding him in place.

He had a great view of you from that angle, so he got easily distracted, his struggles weakening. But just when you thought you had him, he suddenly grabbed your wrists and managed to flip you under him. You blinked up at him in momentary surprise, but then scoffed.

Your legs and arms wrapped around him as you tried to crush him in a bear hug. You felt his erection pressed against your abdomen, and he grunted with the effort of trying to wriggle from your grasp.

Despite the exertion from wrestling each other, you found yourself smiling, genuinely having a good time. Your cheeks were flushed and you were panting heavily. He kissed all over your face, perhaps in an attempt to distract you, but you gave in amiably for the time being.

“Where’s your knife now?” He murmured against your skin, taunting, his breath close to your ear.

But instead of responding, you pulled his head back by the hair and brought your lips to his. Your other hand rested on his throat, like a silent threat, but it was just a little too tender to actually be one.

The stars wheeled across the sky unnoticed, as the two of you were too wrapped up in a frenzy of desire, all restraints loosened. Eager hands and eager mouths, the violent delicacy of your bodies curled around each other like snakes. Everything else truly ceased to exist.

Not much of the hotel room was spared either, lamps knocked over, framed artwork half shattered on the floor, and different things haphazardly strewn about. At last, the bed became the lion’s den, where the last of the raging fire simmered out, leading into a sated slumber.

You awoke before him, too restless from an influx of dreams you couldn’t make heads or tails of. The early morning had a melancholic blue tint to it, barely illuminating the room. You watched him for a moment, trying to burn him into memory as you followed the steady rise and fall of his chest.

Keeping your thoughts at bay was becoming harder by the minute, especially wrapped up in his warmth and his smell. Suddenly, you couldn’t bear being in the bed anymore. You left a featherlight kiss on his shoulder before sliding out as quietly as you could. A certain bitterness slid down the back of your throat as you gathered clothes, padding over to the bathroom and dressing mechanically.

Any sort of logic or reasoning seemed to have left you as well, since you were prepared to flee with just what you were wearing. In that moment, you believed perhaps you could outrun the consequences, and yourself in the process.

But just as you opened the bathroom door and took one step out, you heard the clicking drag of metal and felt the coolness of it closing in around your wrist. You looked down to find yourself handcuffed to Duncan, who was only partially dressed. He looked at you intensely, knowingly even, pinning you in place. Your heart leaped to your throat, stopping any words you might want to say.

“I told you I wouldn’t make it easy either,” he said, his voice devoid of any humor.

He reached out with his free hand, but you weaved away from it like a skittish stray dog that’d been kicked too many times in its life. Your immediate response was a punch that he took in stride. In fact, he let you try and shove him, although the handcuffs would take you along with him. Your frustration only grew, and this time fighting him was different, more desperate – like a cornered animal.

“When are you going to stop fighting your desires?” He asked firmly, seizing your other wrist. “You can’t just run away this time. You owe me that much.”

“Duncan, please,” you said softly, looking down.

“Please, what?” He pressed.

“Why are we kidding ourselves?” You sighed. “We’re just horny and really fucking lonely…and I guess it helps that we understand each other. But we both know it can’t go beyond that.”

“Why not?”

“We don’t exactly have a profession that allows commitment…” you said, but he only stared, forcing you to continue. “What if they decided to assign us to kill each other?”

“I would gladly fake my death for you.”

You pursed your lips, forcing down the tears that once again crawled up your throat. Damn him and the way he made butterflies flutter around your stomach!

“But I won’t let it come to that,” he added. “I’ve already decided to retire early.”

You looked up at him in disbelief, eyes wide. “Really? Just like that?”

“Well I’ve wanted out for some time, but you kind of… helped me make up my mind,” he said, searching your eyes to try and solve the riddle of your feelings.

“And you thought, what? That I would quit too?”

He shook his head. “No. What you do is up to you. All I want is a quiet life, and to settle in one place so you’ll always know where I am.”

“Okay, and what if I have to be gone for a long time? Won’t you get lonely?” You asked, a painful spasm in your chest as you thought about it further. “What if you meet someone else? I mean, hell, I don’t even really know what it is you want with me…”

He frowned, truly unable to fathom your stubbornness. “Are you fucking serious right now? We’re handcuffed together. Do I have to spell it out further?”

Again, you sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. You hadn’t felt such a strong connection with someone in a long time, especially since you believed you were better off alone. Those you were close to could invariably become collateral, and that was one thing you simply couldn’t stomach.

And when you’d said that you understood each other, that had been the truth. Not many – if anyone at all – that weren’t in the business could understand your lifestyle. The guilt that came in waves, threatening to pull you under. The sleepless nights, the mastery of clinical detachment, the constant need to hide and stay vigilant. It was certainly not easy, but you’d simply gotten used to it over time.

But that didn’t mean you weren’t tired of living that way. Still, you hesitated, feeling yourself toe closer to the edge of the cliff.

“What if it’s just the excitement?” You asked, opening your eyes once more.

“It’s been years now… if it had died out, so would we,” he sighed, seeming a little aggrieved. “Or what? You don’t believe love and violence intersect?”

“Love!” You gasped, all pretenses shattered now that one of you had finally said that word. “That’s…”

“Is that what scares you most?”

After a moment’s hesitation, where you fidgeted uncomfortably, you shook your head. “I’m barely evenly acquainted with it, but it’s enough for me to know it doesn’t prevent someone from leaving.”

He nodded once in understanding, not having an argument for that. “And you think I’m an expert on it?”

You shrugged, not entirely sure of his romantic history. Still, you could at least tell that it had not been kind to him either. He pulled you closer, lacing his fingers through yours as if the cuffs weren’t enough to keep you.

“Despite it all, haven’t we inevitably found a way back to each other? Sure, the flame that kept drawing us at first might have been hatred, but pettiness could only take us so far…” He straightened so you could appraise him better, gesturing to himself. “I proudly wear the scars you have given me, and I would welcome many more.”

Your vision became blurry all of a sudden, though you couldn’t understand why. At least not until you felt a tear streaming down your cheek, which you wiped away defiantly. He rested his chin atop your head as you leaned against his arm, not looking at him.

“And if you think I will break your heart, what guarantee do I have you won’t break mine first?”

“You don’t,” you admitted honestly, which maybe was the whole point.

“And yet, it is still yours to break.”

You chuckled, but it sounded more like a choked sob. “You’re killing me, old man. What am I to do with so much?”

“You don’t have to carry it all on your own,” he said, bringing his free hand to your chin and tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

His expression was fully unguarded, like an open book for you to read. There was a vast depth there that seemed to invite you to uncover it, should you actually take the chance.

And beneath it all, a most desperate hope. One you could recognize, for you had seen it in your own eyes before. It struck you like an arrow, knocking the breath out of you.

One of the deadliest men on Earth utterly undone by one of the most common afflictions — that of the heart. Love.

It was a gift, a real promise beyond what words could express.

And so, you decided to let yourself fall.

The words left you before you could stop them. “I’m going to retire, too.”

He blinked in surprise, but you barreled on. “It’s not a life I want to keep living. It’s not life at all, really. I was just never really sure if there was anything else for me. But now, nothing is waiting for me out there anymore… I have all I want standing right here next to me.”

Oh, how his eyes brightened at your words. Like the sun rising over the horizon, bringing a new dawn. He wiped your damp cheeks, even if a smile had already spread across your face. Your heart fluttered wildly in your chest like a caged bird as he kissed you. It was sweet and unhurried, the culmination of all the yearning and long-repressed desire.

“And what happens now?” You asked softly.

“Anything we want. The world is our oyster,” he said, giving you a pointed look. “You know, there are lots of beautiful chapels around here.”

You scoffed. “Be serious right now!”

“I am being serious.”

You smacked his arm and rolled your eyes, but still felt a swell of giddiness in your chest. “Don’t push your luck, old geezer”

“Can you please come back to bed now? We really should get more sleep,” he said, tugging you along with him.

“Can you at least uncuff us first?”

“No.”

----

#polar fanfiction #the black kaiser x reader #duncan vizla x reader #the black kaiser fanfiction #duncan vizla fanfiction #minors dni

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jake-g-lockley · 1 year

Text

Only for You (Steven Grant x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: MDNI, Smut, fingering, oral (fem receiving), protected p in v, popping someone’s cherry, dirty language, swearing.

Word count: 3.8k worth of filth and fluff, yay

A/N: I wanna lay on his chest fr (also his fucking hands just-) I’m fucking sorry but I just realized that I have never written Steven Grant smut, holy shit. Here it is, soft, first-time sex with Steven <3

☾ .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. “Don’t laugh Steven! I'm not scared of sex, I’m just saying that there are other things that I want in a relationship too.” you pout, elbowing Steven square in the stomach.

“It's not like I know how good sex is anyway.” You grumble as Steven chuckled.

You and Steven were curled up on the couch, a forgotten movie playing softly on your laptop. Your head was settled comfortably on his chest, a fluffy blanket over the both of you. If anyone had walked into Steven’s flat then, they would see the picture of your perfect version of a couple.

Except, well, you and Steven weren’t together.

You and him had been watching a movie when a particularly sexy scene came about and you moved to bury your face into Steven’s chest in embarrassment. Part of you had just wanted to stay there, all warm and comfortable but Steven had started to laugh, and is now prodding you slightly about your abstinence from the act of fornication.

He also had been nagging you about how you ditched your Tinder date to instead come to Steven’s flat bearing gifts of wine and chocolates.

“What are the other things you’d want then?” your best friend pushed on, sitting up slightly to close the laptop and place it on the coffee table before gazing down at you.

You shrunk slightly under his gaze, suddenly feeling shy.

Despite being the sweetest human being on the planet, sometimes when he was really into a conversation, Steven would have a sparkle in his eyes that made you feel slightly intoxicated. The first time that happened, you were surprised with the way your body reacted to him, in a fluid way, as if it was totally in tune with the nature that he had presented to you.

Forget sex. You had never been in a romantic relationship. In fact, Steven’s probably the first person in this big blue world who has been this close to you. You cherished him and held him oh so close to your heart, but that made you fall so incredibly hard for him.

But Steven was older, more mature and probably had more experience than you could ever uncover. Why would he want someone as inexperienced and young as you?

Instead you choose to avoid his eyes, staring at your hands that fisted the fluffy blanket.

“You’d think it's stupid.” you mumbled.

“Now, love, I never in a million years would think that. Come on, let's hear it then.” he urged, his hand finding yours for comfort.

You hold his hand in both of yours by his fingers, his hand comically bigger than yours. The weight of his hand in yours was reassuring and safe. You found yourself tracing his life line as you stared into space.

“I’d want them to dance with me in the rain even if both of us have two left feet. I’d want to go on long walks with them and talk about the stupidest things in the world. I’d want to hold their hand and run errands. I’d want them to sing me soft, made up songs, or read me poetry. I’d want them to make me smile even during my darkest days. I’d want them to just hold me in their arms and whisper sweet fluffy things. I’d want them to be my safe place, my comfort person. I’d want someone who can heal me, Steven.” your voice breaking a little when you got to the end of your list.

The both of you sat in silence for a while. You turned your focus entirely to the beat of Steven’s heart and the way his body was pressed to yours. You continued to toy with his fingers, brushing your thumb over a small scar over and over. You’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t want him to fulfill all that you had just said.

“Is that too much to ask for, or am I going to end up being an eternal virgin, eternally alone?” you laughed a little as you said it.

“Would you like me to try?” Steven whispered suddenly, the words spilling out of him in one breath.

At that very moment, you froze. You felt as if the world ceased to exist at the sound of his words.

Steven took a deep breath before continuing.

“You have already given me the opportunity to know you, in the best way possible, as your best friend. Darling, I’ll let you step on my feet while we dance in the rain. I’ll be your book of stupid facts while we walk around London aimlessly. I’ll never let go of your hand and I’ll sing you songs of my love for you and read you poetry about your pure beauty. I’ll make sure that beautiful smile doesn’t leave your face and I’m not a doctor, but I swear to you, on my life, that I’ll do my best to heal you.” He says as his free hand lightly runs up and down your arm.

“And I hate to be so frank, but I’m already holding you in my arms and I’m trying my best to whisper sweet things to you. Besides, if you didn’t feel safe, I doubt you’d still be slotted next to me holding my hand in yours.” He simply stated, as if he was proving a point.

You didn’t realize you were breathing rapidly until your eyes caught the movement of your chest. You licked your lips, attempting to say something back to Steven.

“Fuck.” was all that you managed instead.

“I could do that very well too if you like.” Steven said without missing a beat.

“YOU COCKY BASTARD!” You wriggled away from him and laughed, sitting up slightly to watch as a smile bloomed on his rosy face.

“You’d do that for me?” you whispered, the second the laughter died down.

“I’ll do anything for you, only for you.” He reassured as his eyes searched yours, bringing a hand up to cup your face. “I want to be the constant in your life, so, my darling, would you like me to try?”

“Yes, please.” You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand, before feeling yourself pulled close to him.

Your eyes fluttered open and you found yourself staring into dark orbs that you had constantly found yourself lost in on a daily basis.

“Can I kiss you and show you how hard I’ll try then?” Steven whispered, his eyes drowning you in his own sanctuary.

“Yes, Steven.” was the last thing you heard yourself say before you lost yourself in him.

Steven’s lips were soft and forgiving against yours as your mind scrambled to comprehend that you were having your first kiss. Your hand shook as you tried to find purchase, settling to grab Steven’s t-shirt. His nose slotted perfectly against yours and you could smell his aftershave and feel his stubble against your skin.

You could tell Steven was trying hard to take it slow but as you straddle his lap, he brought his hand to your hip to push you further into him. The friction made you gasp, allowing Steven to lick into your mouth, creating a symphony of sounds from the both of you.

The both of you stopped for air, but you couldn’t pull yourself away from him, choosing to breathe the air that he heavily breathed out.

“How was that?” Steven asked, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ears.

“For my first? I couldn’t have asked for more.” you hissed slightly as Steven still kept an iron grip on your hip to push you against him, feeling the dynamic shift between the two of you.

You kissed Steven with all your last might and you could hear and feel a deep groan erupt from him as you pressed yourself against him, the wine you had edging you on. He kissed you back with equal fervor, as if he couldn’t get enough of you by the second. You ran your hands through his curls tugging them slightly causing him to whimper. You pressed yourself down on him, hard, realizing that you relished in the sound he made when you tugged on his hair. You could feel him, hard against you and a part of you felt absolutely victorious but the other part that was unsure slowly started to win over.

“I’ve never done this before, Steven.” you whisper as Steven moans, and you could tell that he was holding back from rutting his hips against you.

“That’s alright, love. Do you want to stop?” Steven says with a worried tone in his voice.

You gazed at Steven, at the state that you had put him in. His curls were astray and his lips were parted. Lust had blown his pupils wide open and you swear you could see a galaxy in them from your vantage point.

“No, I don’t want to stop. Not with you. Could you show me?” you plead.

“Let's take things slow,” Steven soothed you, slowly lifting you off him and laying you on your back. “I’m going to eat you out, love, but I need you to promise me that you’ll stop me if it gets too much for you.” he said while his large fingers hooked the waistband of the sweats that you stole from him.

Your face burned furiously at his words, not expecting the forwardness. You wanted to cross your legs and pull away but this was Steven. Your Steven. He would keep you safe.

“I promise.” You whispered back, your heart thumping in your chest.

Steven kissed your inner thigh, pushing your thighs apart to reveal your clothed cunt as you propped yourself onto your elbows to watch him make a mess of you. Your legs hung limp on either side of him, and you felt like a rag doll, absolutely powerless.

He started lightly marking your inner thighs, his tongue soothing out the evidence of his ministrations everytime your moans got a little too out of control. You swirl your hips, not content that your cunt wasn’t getting what it had been initially promised. Feeling a little bolder, your hands flew to his curls as you tried to direct him to what you really needed.

You felt yourself go dizzy as Steven’s fingers suddenly pushed your panties to the side, feeling your already dripping slit.

“Gods, you’re already so wet for me, darling. Such a shame that no one else will get to see how pretty this pussy is now that it's mine.” he mumbled as he trained his eyes to your core.

Blood rushed simultaneously to your face and clit, making you cry out loud at Steven’s lewd commentary.

“Steven, I-” you try saying but you choke on your words as he catches you off guard by pushing a digit into you, pumping it in and out at a slow pace, a vulgar squelching sound reaching your ears. He curls the finger without a hint of sorrow, hitting that one special spot that makes your legs turn into pure jelly, enlisting a shaky moan from you.

“You feel so soft, my love.” he says almost darkly, taking the finger out of you and inserting it into his mouth, eyes not leaving yours and your eyes widen, taking in every square inch of what you were seeing in front of you.

He lowers his head to you until his nose brushes harshly against your clit, sending a shock through your body. Your back arches back as you bring his face closer to you by his hair. Steven didn’t seem to be bothered by the way you were literally suffocating him, instead he lapped a broad stroke along your slit, tasting your juices straight from its source. Your knee jerk reaction to the pleasure you were having was to clamp your thighs together, but Steven was faster than you, holding your thighs open with light pressure, as he pushed his tongue inside you. You felt like you were drowning in a pool of delight as Steven continued to absolutely devour you.

“So much for going slow, Mr. Grant.” You thought as your eyes rolled to the back of your head.

You loved it. Nothing you’ve tried on yourself has felt anything like this. You could tell Steven was studying the pattern of your pleasure, choosing to change tactics when your moans were more hollow and sticking to what he was doing when you wailed and pushed yourself against him. His name rolled off your tongue like a prayer more than a plea and Steven relished the way you spoke it under the change of circumstance.

“Bloody hell, baby, keep saying my name like that. Make everyone know that I’m yours.” Steven groaned into your core as he paused for a breath.

Without meeting much resistance, he pushes two thick fingers into you, covering your clit with his mouth and starts to pump at a steady pace. You brought a hand up to your mouth to stifle your cries of pleasure, only for the hand to be pulled back down by Steven. The steady stimulation of his tongue instantly pushes you up and over your breaking point. You felt yourself clench around his fingers as his tongue runs soothing circles around your clit.

“Gods, I can feel you squeezing my fingers. You like that, angel? Trust me, you’re going to like my cock more.” he says, directing his filthy words into your cunt.

You came with his name echoing in your screams, your body convulsing uncontrollably as Steven helped you to ride out your high. After cleaning out the remnants of the first orgasm that he gave you with his tongue, Steven kissed your thighs softly as you bathed in its afterglow. Your eyes focused on his face, a shy smile encapsulating his wet lips as a soft shade of pink danced over his cheeks and nose.

“That was amazing, Steven. Thank you.” You stretched your arms out for him and he obliged, letting you grab him by the t-shirt and pull him down for a kiss as you wrapped your legs around his torso.

You pulled him further down with your legs so that his body was flush to you, only to have his clothed bulge grind into your sensitive clit making you gasp.

“Shit! Sorry, love!” Steven groaned as he tried to pull himself off you.

You were having none of it. You kept him down and grinded upwards, grinning at the look that passed his face.

“Are you sure, darling? I just don’t want you to be overwhelmed.” he breathed as you ducked your head into the crook of his neck to kiss him.

He smelled like sandalwood and papyrus, twisting your brain with a desire you never knew you had in you.

“I know you’ll be gentle, I can take it.” you said clearly, wanting him to realize that you wanted to see and feel his pleasure too.

Steven searched your eyes only to have you stare back, full of silent determination, before cradling you close to him and lifting you up as he stood from the couch, as if you weighed like a sack of potatoes. Steven’s strength never failed to surprise you. You remembered the time he helped you move into your new apartment, how he lifted several heavy boxes at once without breaking a sweat.

He settled you down on his bed softly, and you knew from that moment on that he was dead set on being gentle with you. He smoothed your hair on the pillow and kissed your forehead before sitting down beside you.

“Can I take your top off, darling?” he asked, his large palm kneading your hip as you smiled up at him.

“Yes, please, bra too.” you said as Steven raised his eyebrows at your shy demand.

He did as he was told and wasted no time in absolutely worshiping you.

“You’re fucking beautiful. Why didn’t we do this sooner?” Steven groaned, letting his hands roam your bare body as his eyes sparkled like a teenage boy.

His mouth and tongue traced patterns on your skin that made you start whimpering. You could feel your arousal grow between your legs again as Steven captured one of your nipples in his mouth and sucked softly, releasing them with a pop, only to knead at your breast with his large hands.

“Need you inside me.” you breathed as he sucked soft hickeys onto your skin, hickeys that only he could have an access to.

He moaned at your words and looked at you with hooded eyes, before proceeding to take off his clothes one by one. Your eyes widened as Steven pulled his boxers off and grabbed a hold of his length. You’ve obviously watched porn before and you’ve never seen a more beautiful cock in your life. He looked absolutely perfect to you, soft trimmed curls boarding the hilt of his long and girthy length with a pink head that was leaking pre-cum.

Your breathing quickened as you watched him pump himself a few times before rolling a condom on. Kneeling in front of you, he grabbed the bottle of lube from his bedside and coated his palm before stroking himself again.

“Steven, you’re a god.” you heard yourself saying as you scanned his body that was literally sculpted to perfection.

“Fuck, Y/N, don’t say that, I’m not gonna fucking last with your words.” He says as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your slit, catching your clit and making you throw your head back against the pillow.

“In, now.” you punctuated as Steven tried to take his time with you.

With the help of the lube and your slick, Steven slid inside of you with relative ease, shocking you and himself with how fast he bottomed out. There was a sharp pain as Steven stretched you out, followed by the sweet sensation of pleasure that made you whimper with ecstasy. You had never felt this full in your life and Steven’s cock was pressing deliciously in all of the spots you had never thought you had. His hands held you down with bruising strength, allowing you to adjust to his length, and only started moving when you started to grind your hips impatiently.

He showered you with praises as he moved with slow fluid movement, his hand inching towards you for you to grab onto. Instead of lacing your fingers together with him, Steven pulled your hand towards him and pressed it gently at the lower part of your belly. You moaned at the feeling of his cock inside of you, the tip bulging through your skin. He pressed down slightly harder, getting off at the feeling of your hand massaging his cock from the outside.

“Steven, you’re too good to me. Feels so good.” you slur as he pushed on slightly harder and deeper.

Tears started to flow from your eyes as your free hand gripped at Steven’s biceps, your nails leaving crescent shapes in his skin as he started to speed up his thrusts. His hand on your belly leaves yours, only for his fingertips to end up on your clit, the action causing you to shake. From the extra stimulation and the way his cock speared you, your second release came faster than your first, blinding you yet again with its powerful waves.

You could feel Steven’s movements start to stutter the second you came, his thrusts getting sloppier as he chased his release. He folded his body over yours and with a few more solid thrusts to your cunt, he groaned into your neck as he spilled thick ropes of cum into the condom.

It took the both of you a few minutes of heavy breathing to gather your thoughts. Steven came to his senses first, slowly pulling himself out of you before taking off the condom and discarding it. He then slowly stroked your hair as your breathing became more labored before taking a bottle of geranium oil from his bedside and dripping it all over your spent body.

You smiled at Steven as he massaged the fragrant oil into your skin. He focused on the points of your body that were sure to be sore tomorrow and silently pressed out all of the tension you had in you. Your body felt warm and you had a buzz running through you as if you had just ran a marathon. He massaged a silent thanks into you with every squeeze of his hand and you just laid there and stared at the man before you, wondering what kind of miracle had allowed you to get to this point. You looked past him and squinted into his apartment, giggling slightly at where your underwear had ended up.

“Hmm, am I really that funny, baby?” Steven said before following your line of sight and gasping at the sight of your underwear draped ungracefully over Gus’s fish tank.

“Oops, sorry Gus, mate.” He said sheepishly, his face turning red. “It's alright, darling, he won’t remember it.”

Steven flipped you over gently and started massaging your back, pulling small hisses and moans out of you. He kneads your lower back with his knuckles, providing you with stronger precision that knocks the wind out of your lungs with pleasure as you sink further into the mattress. He skims over the globes of your ass, making you giggle again. Flipping you onto your back, Steven pulls you into his lap as he settles himself against the headboard, covering the both of you up with a blanket to provide you with some privacy. You cuddle close to him, feeling safe in the small cocoon that he had created.

“Do you always end … it with a massage?” you asked suddenly, the question creeping up into your fluffy thoughts.

“No, actually.” Steven says, sitting up a little. “This was the first. I remember how you would say that massages were your favourites and that you would get a weekly massage if you had some disposable income.”

You blink up at him, realizing that he had been listening to you all along. Your heart swelled with the awareness that you had found your perfect man way before you had even comprehended it.

“Thank you, Steven. I love you.” you say before you could stop yourself as an unknown emotion settled upon Steven’s face.

Horror pulsed through you, your cock-dumb brain still too foggy for you to think anything coherent.

“Shit, sorry, I mean we only just had sex a few minutes ago. This is so uncool-” you stutter before Steven places a finger to your lips.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Steven says, genuinely as a chuckle reverberates through him and into your heart.

You calmed down immediately with his confession, your face blazing as you kissed him, finally feeling at ease with everything around you.

“Told you I can fuck really well.”

“FUCK OFF, STEVEN!”

Tagging: @romanarose @mintpurplemnm

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

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slvt4em1lyprenti2s · 3 months

Text

Will you please be quiet?

Summary: You have a song stuck in your head and Emily one has one way to make you be quiet.

Word Count: 1.1k

Fluff, kissing

Pairings: Emily Prentiss x fem!reader

!NOT PROOFREAD!

Reader POV:

“I wanna be your endgame, I wanna be your first string!” I sang as I was getting ready for the day. Music blasting through my apartment, as I pack my go-bag.

I go over to my vanity and put on some quick makeup and keep humming Endgame as it echos through the walls of my bedroom.

I hop into my car to go to work and put my Spotify on shuffle, Endgame comes on again. I’m not complaining but oh my god. This is going to be stuck in my head for days now.

Time skip to when reader gets to Quantico*

I’m minding my own business waiting for my coffee to pour while humming Endgame as Emily walks up behind me.

“Got a song stuck in your head?” Her hand lightly brushed over my waist as she went to stand next to me. Oh my goodness this woman makes butterflies erupt in my stomach by such a small touch.

“Ha, yeah. That obvious huh?” She let out a small laugh as she nodded.

“Yeah well you’ve been here what, an hour? And I don’t think I’ve heard anything but that time leave your mouth.” I lowered my head and shook it laughing at her observation, a blush coating my cheeks.

“Unfortunately, I didn’t come here just to talk about the song planting itself in that pretty little head of yours-“ I don’t let her finish, partially because the blush on my cheek is becoming too noticeable now and also because I know exactly what she’s going to say.

“We have a case.”

“Yes, we do, meet in the round table in 10.” She gives me a small smile and walks away.

Time skip to once they’re on the jet on the way to the case*

“Big reputation, big reputation, ohh you and me, we’d be a big conversation.” I mutter under my breath as I sit next to Emily looking over the file.

“Oh my god! You’re still going huh?” I’m snapped out of my thoughts by her soothing voice, I laugh and look at her honey brown eyes.

“Sorry!” I laughed as I looked back down to the file, her hand found its way onto my thigh under the table, careful not to draw attention to us. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

An uncontrollable smile bloomed on my face. I gave her hand a squeeze to say thanks and we both went back to the task at hand.

Time skip to when they’re looking through evidence at the local PD*

“You got anything?” Like asked Rossi.

“Nothing, if this guy did have any enemies he was quick to bury the hatchet as not to be tracked down.” As soon as he said this my brain flickered on with Endgame. Again.

“And I bury hatchets but I keep maps of where I put ‘em.” I hear a giggle next to me and look over and find Emily gazing at me.

“Don’t even,” I sighed “It’s starting to annoy me as well.” She laughed and shook her head and looked back down at the evidence like we had collected from the scenes.

Time skip to a little later*

“Hey what you humming?” Tara asked me as she looked up from the crime scene photos on the table.

“Endgame by Taylor Swift.” I reply without looking up, trying to piece together where the unsub was going to strike next.

“Oh my god! I love Taylor Swift! What’s your favourite album?” Before I could respond Spencer came into the room we, and the rest of the team, were in and started talking.

“Guys, I know where the unsub is going to strike next. The house he grew up in has been condemned and scheduled for demolition so that’s probably where he’s been taking his victims. If he sticks to his pattern, he’ll be going back there at some point after 10pm tonight.” We all started to pack up our things when Emily called out,

“Guys, we need to do a stakeout. We’ll scare him away if we go in there guns drawn and then he’ll go underground so, Reid and JJ, park on the curb near the house, Tara and Matt, go to the end of the road, Rossi and Luke to the other end of the road, you’ll act as a kind of covert roadblock and me and y/n will park up in an lay-by near the house.”

We all got up and went to our assigned SUV and started driving to our destinations. On the way there Emily turned the radio on.

“And I heard about you, ooh, you like the bad ones too.”

“Oh my god! It’s everywhere!” We laughed together at this. What are the chances?! We kept the radio on nonetheless.

As we pulled into the parking space we sat in a comfortable silence for a while, just enjoying each other presence and the peace of an evening stakeout. The sun was setting and I absentmindedly started humming under my breath yet again.

“I don’t wanna miss you, like the other girls do. I don’t wanna hurt yo-“ before I could finish I feel my chin being tugged to the side and a soft pair of lips meeting my own.

To say I was shocked at first was an understatement but I soon melted into the kiss, her thumb caressed my face as our lips moved together. It was the most amazing moment of my life to date. Emily slowly pulled away her face still barely a centimetre away from my own.

“What was that for?” I asked, still skeptical.

“It’s the only thing that I could think of to stop you from singing that damn song!” Laughter broke out between us and as it died down she pulled me back in again for a brief kiss.

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?” She asked gazing into my eyes with our hands intertwined.

“Are you, Unit Chief Emily Prentiss, asking me out on a date?” I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.

“Yes, I am.” She giggled.

“In that case, dinner tomorrow sounds awesome.” I kiss her again, savouring the taste of her on my lips.

“I’ll take you to and from work so you can stay the night and not worry about your car.” I say thank you as I pull her into another kiss, this one lasting a little longer than the others.

Her hand reaches for the back of my head and pulls me in closer, her tongue swiping my bottom lip asking for permission. Granting it, I open my mouth and let her explore.

“Hey guy! Stop sucking each other’s faces and go back to the PD we got the guy!”

We make eye contact and start laughing hard.

Well Shit. At least I ahoy a date with em!

#wlw #wlw fanfic #lesbian #sapphic #emily prentiss #criminal minds #wlw pride #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #lesbian pride #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss x female reader

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sleepinthrumyalarms · 1 year

Text

— your teeth don't scare me

pairing: wednesday addams x fem!oni!reader

warnings: descriptions of gore and violence

summary: the first time wednesday ever witnesses the true form of an oni demon, it doesn't drive her away

word count: 1.8k

"Have you seen (Y/n)?" Wednesday asked as she came up to her roommate where the blonde sat at the table in the dining hall, busy with a plate of a bloody steak, and the sudden appearance of her friend almost made her choke on the chunk of food in her mouth.

"Shit- I haven't. She must've left before dinner," she chewed and proceeded to swallow quickly, now obviously worried, "Why? Is something wrong?"

“Where does she usually go? Does she have a cage, like the werewolves do?”

“She doesn’t,” Yoko answered from the blonde’s side between small sips of bottled blood, “Weems lets (Y/n) run wild in the woods when she turns. Apparently a cage isn’t enough to hold an oni demon.”

Wednesday seemed lost in thought for a bit, then nodded and turned back to Enid.

"I'll be out for a walk. Cover for me if the need arises. Good night."

"Cover for you how? Where are you even going? Wednesday!"

The words fell on deaf ears as Wednesday quickly left the cafeteria, down the hall and to the front entrance of the academy, her steps hurried as she set out into the woods.

As the ravenette walked, she looked up at the sky where the Full Blood Moon was slowly rising from between the dark clouds, as if taunting her – you won’t make it in time, you’re too late.

Like hell she was.

When the trees around the girl became thicker and her vision was obscured by the leaves, her steps momentarily became slow and cautious, careful not to alert someone hostile with her movements. Going into the woods at night was itself a rather bad idea, especially with a monster on the loose, but for Wednesday it was a mere walk in the park, and a rather enjoyable one. There were no sounds except for the wilderness, and the chirping crickets paired with the distant howling of Nevermore's werewolves made for a lovely ambience.

But the ravenette didn’t venture into the small forest for her enjoyment. There was aim in her step, and in her hand she held a golden accessory that she knew belonged to a certain oni girl who needed it during every Full Blood Moon. Wednesday wasn't sure what exactly its purpose was, but she didn't think much about it - she had to bring it to (Y/n), lest something horrible happened.

The girl looked around, catching sight of deep claw marks and fallen trees around her, and she knew she was close. Leaves crunched under her boots as Wednesday stepped closer to a clearing, and through the thick trunks she could make out a dark hunched silhouette. The ravenette slowed down, carefully squeezing through the bushes, and held her breath at the scene in front of her.

The huge creature was sitting on the forest floor, tusked maw completely buried in a body of an animal, and upon closer look Wednesday could make out a young deer, a chunk of its neck bitten off. The oni's claws were sunk into the prey, and she mauled at the raw flesh with loud munching noises as if she hadn't eaten in months, blood and intestines getting all over her torn hakama pants and face. Advancing forward, Wednesday could see huge horns adorning the top of the demon's shaggy head, something akin to scales covering the tips in splashes of dark - red color, and the same rough scales grew on her feet and hands, clashing against the greyish skin of the oni.

Wednesday heard a branch snap under her boot suddenly, and (Y/n) turned her head sharply to look at the source of the sound. When the (e/c) cat - like eyes flicked to the smaller girl's body, the demon furrowed her eyebrows, and a low intimidating growl came from somewhere deep in her throat.

"(Y/n)," Wednesday began, but didn't risk to take another step closer, "It's me. I brought your pendant." She held the dragon charm up by the lace to show it to the monstrous girl, and the ruby eyes of the golden ornament shined in the moonlight.

The oni let go of the deer, the carcass hitting the dirt with a disgusting wet squelch, and rose to her full height, the ground shaking under her clawed feet. She slowly walked over to the ravenette, towering over her much smaller frame, and Wednesday's head could barely reach the demon's navel. The creature got on all fours to get face to face with the girl in front of her, clawed hands furrowing the soil, before her huge maw fell open with a deafening roar.

Wednesday didn't budge, staring at the demon with an unbothered expression, even though the rush of powerful air worried her hair and clothes. Then (Y/n) closed her mouth and huffed, steam coming out of her nostrils.

"Was that a 'thank you'?" Wednesday asked, clearly not in the mood for the oni's attitude. A spark of recognition glistened in the demon's eyes at the tone, but her heavy jaw snapped in front of Wednesday's face menacingly.

"None of that. I'm sorry I interrupted your dinner time, but you need this," the ravenette berated the creature as if she was scolding a guilty dog, and not a seven feet tall demonic abomination, "Come on. I'll put it on for you."

The oni thought for a moment, shoulders rising and falling with deep breaths, before she complied, sitting in front of the ravenette and crossing her legs. She huffed again, a grumpy display of reluctant obedience, and watched as the small girl carefully got on her tip — toes to swing the lace around her massive neck. Wednesday fixed the pendant on the demon's chest, then, satisfied with the way it glinted in the darkness, looked up at (Y/n), meeting her terrifying (e/c) eyes. The body of the oni was incredibly warm, and being so close to her was like sitting next to a radiator on a cold winter morning, the feeling rather pleasant and tingly. Wednesday's gaze slid down to the bloodied mouth of the creature, and she sighed.

"Such a messy eater," rummaging around in the pocket of her hoodie, she produced a black handkerchief, and carefully grabbed the demon by the chin to wipe at her lips and protruding tusks, "Don't you know blood is hard to wash off?"

(Y/n) grunted in reply, letting the ravenette clean her up, and when Wednesday was finished, the oni nuzzled her snout against the girl's smaller pale face with surprising gentleness, but the force was still enough for Wednesday to almost loose her footing.

"Well now you're just sucking up to me."

The demon snorted resentfully, baring her tusks, and Wednesday rolled her eyes, raising her hand to caress the big creature under her chin, scratching softly.

"Fine. Don't sulk."

A deep purr resonated through the oni's chest and she closed her eyes, undoubtedly enjoying the affection. What a strange scene it was - a much smaller human girl turning a huge oni demon into complete putty in her hands.

"Are you coming back soon?" Wednesday inquired, resting her palm on the demon's cheek, and (Y/n) opened her eyes, grumbling in disagreement and looking up at the night sky. The ravenette followed her gaze, where the Blood Moon was shining at its peak.

"I could stay with you."

The oni growled in response, shaking her head from side to side wildly, her disheveled (h/c) hair swishing with the movement like a lion's mane.

"I'm not helpless, (Y/n). I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

(Y/n) sighed at the ravenette's stubbornness. Of course, there was no way to ever convince her otherwise. But still, the demon girl didn't want to run any risks - she knew she could protect Wednesday if the circumstances would force her to do so, but she'd prefer her as far from danger as possible, if she could help it.

The demon butted her head against the girl's chest, nudging her forward to where she came from. A whine escaped her lips when Wednesday held her ground again, sitting down in the demon's lap instead and reaching for her big rough hand with both of her smaller palms, clasping them around the limb gently.

"I... I don't want to leave you." She mumbled, tracing her lithe fingers over the scaled skin.

God, how could (Y/n) deny her? She was weak for the gloomy girl, and now the small moment of vulnerability almost made her melt. The calming charm on her neck was definitely working its wonders — the demon relented, hanging her head and breaking eye contact with a sigh of defeat, broad shoulders sagging.

(Y/n) wished she could tell the girl she just wanted her to be safe.

A gust of cold wind blew through the clearing, and Wednesday couldn't suppress a small shiver. She was definitely underdressed, too hurried to get to (Y/n) to care about what she wore, the hoodie she put on over her striped sweatshirt not enough to protect her from the breeze.

Noticing her discomfort, the oni held the girl's body closer to herself, wrapping her arms around her, crossed legs tightening, and her big warm frame made a shelter for the ravenette, shielding her from the nipping weather. Wednesday pressed her head against the demon's chest, the calming rumbles and her beating heart fusing into a soothing lullaby.

(Y/n)’s slitted eyes scanned the clearing for intruders, never letting her guard down as she held the small girl in her arms like one would hold their most treasured possession, afraid to ever let go.

When Wednesday opened her eyes, she was greeted by the still dark sky. There was barely any light coming from between the clouds, but she was sure it wasn’t nighttime anymore – the color was brighter than before, and the chirping of crickets was replaced by the singing of early morning birds.

Slowly shifting on what she thought was the forest floor, the ravenette felt her soft – too soft to be the floor – bedding move under her body. Carefully propping herself up on her elbows, Wednesday realised she was lying on top of (Y/n), the demon’s form back to her normal size, and she was snoozing away, tusked mouth slightly open as she breathed calmly. One of her arms was draped over Wednesday’s waist protectively, and her golden dragon pendant adorned her half – naked being in a beautiful morning glow – wait, half – naked?

Wednesday averted her eyes at the realisation, color dusting her cheeks slightly. The demon’s haori was hanging from the ravenette’s shoulders, no doubt serving as a blanket during the cold night, and the only article of clothing the oni wore were her half – torn pants. Laying her head back against (Y/n)’s chest, Wednesday closed her eyes, the slow rise and fall of the taller girl’s diaphragm lulling her back to sleep.

They could afford some more rest.

#wednesday #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday 2022 #netflix wednesday #wednesday addams #wednesday x you #wednesday imagine #wednesday the series #wednesday addams x y/n #imagine #female reader #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x female reader

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aphrogeneias · 5 months

Note

Luiza you have no idea what you’ve done because I’ve wanted to talk about this for ages.

Remember that scene in the bronze where spike and buffy are up on the balcony? And he’s fooling around with her (fingering or fucking her it’s left vague lmao) and he’s telling her to look down at her friends and saying she belongs in the dark with him????

That with Eddie.

do they know?

summary: eddie always knows exactly where to find you, even when you don't want to be found.

pairing: vampire!eddie munson x slayer!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: smut (+18), a little angst at the beginning. semi-public sex, fingering, dirty talk, hair pulling, biting.

It's quiet up here, the opposite of what a nightclub should be.

Some stubborn voice in the back of your mind tells you that you should be having fun. You watch your friends from where you're standing, the empty balcony of the club you've been attending for years, dancing and joking around, making up their own silly choreographies as tonight’s band played something groovy.

Robin and Nancy hold each other's hands as they dance, Chrissy spins around in her pretty dress, Barb watches them from her trusty place at your usual table, smiling and singing along. They don't seem to notice how long you've been gone, maybe because you've been doing that a lot lately.

Hiding, that is. Leaving places early, without saying goodbye. You don't mean to, you just don't feel much like yourself these days. Not like the girl you used to be, but something new, different — scarred, tainted by something dark, marked by it.

It isn't easy to explain, the shadow that death leaves on someone. You were way too young when you took on this job, and it took a while until the weight of it started to pull you down, but it was finally starting to.

Maybe it was also due to the fact that you'd recently fallen into a bad habit, who was currently staring up at you from the dancefloor. In the middle of the sparse crowd, the only pair of eyes looking up are a deep brown, finding you in your hiding place.

You're not exactly surprised. Eddie hasn't left town in a while, and you'd seen him a couple of days ago — throwing rocks at your bedroom window until you let him in, climbing under your sheets, leaving before dawn.

If you felt colder without him in the morning than with him in your bed, when he wrapped his body around you like he loved you, you told no one.

Eddie disappears into the crowd until you can feel him again, right behind you. You don't want to give him the satisfaction of looking back, and suddenly, he's there, shielding your body with his, his chest to your back as his arms grab the railing in front of you, surrounding you with his leather clad arms.

The smell of cologne and cigarettes invades your every sense, and you need to keep from inhaling deeply. You wish you could turn around and bury your face on his chest, nuzzle into the worn cotton of his shirt, breathe him in.

You do everything to avoid the strange comfort Eddie brings you. It almost hurts, the intensity with which he draws you in.

“Not exactly the life of the party, are you?” You can feel his eyes on the side of your face, his insufferable stare paired with a grin.

“You know me.” You respond, simply.

“Mhm. You're right, I know you.” His chest vibrates behind you as he hums, caging you in even more. “All work and no play makes the little slayer a huge bitch.”

Rolling your eyes, you finally force yourself to glance at him from over your shoulder. “You came all the way here just to insult me?”

“No, but you make it hard not to.” He chuckles. “Just wanted to check on you, actually.”

He surprises you with a kiss on your shoulder, over your top. The whiplash still hasn't settled with you, the hot and cold of it all. Does he hate you? Does he… No. He doesn't.

“There's nothing to check. I'm clearly fine.” You bite your lip.

“So, you're clearly hiding from your friends”, he keeps kissing you, from your shoulder to your neck, now dragging his lips over bare skin, “for no reason?”

“I'm not hiding.” Swallowing hard, you try to stand your ground, but you already feel your walls start to crumble. “I'm just… tired, I guess.”

“Tired of what?” The hands that were on the rail are now in your waist, grabbing and squeezing you, until one of them descends to your hip, and the other up to your back. It slides up your spine, and settles on the back of your neck, while he grabs you by the hair, pulling your head back. “Of keeping up appearances? Pretending to be a good girl?”

You feel it all. His curls brushing your skin, the roughness of the hand that is now on your thigh, rising to feel you under your skirt, his nose digging on your cheek. You're surrounded by him, and regretfully, you wouldn't have it any other way.

“I'm not pretending.” You’re already breathing heavily. “I am good.”

“You sure? I don't know about that.” He finally reaches the crotch of your panties, finding them already sticky with your wetness. His fingers tease you above the fabric, lazily circling your clit, as if he has all the time in the world. “I think you're a bad, bad girl, and you know It too.”

It's all happening at the same time. He's keeping you in place with arm around your waist while he pulls your panties to the side and finally allows you to feel him, “Look at them. Do you think they know?”

You don't speak as he forces you to look forward, down to your blissfully unaware friends. It's dark where you stand, but all they'd have to do was look up and see you in this position. Heat fills your chest, up to your cheeks, and you grab his wrist, attempting to stop him.

He doesn't mind, instead he keeps his hand there, fingers slowly working your clit, dipping to your entrance to collect the slick steadily dripping from you, and back to your little button, “Do you think they know how much of a naughty little slayer you are? Do they know how much you like getting fucked by the big, bad monster you claim to hate? How much you love my fingers in your pussy, how you beg for more?”

Almost as if on cue, you plead. “Please, Eddie. Don't do this to me.”

“Do what?” He whispers, leaning his head down again, locking his lips to your chin, leaving a tender, lingering bite there. “This?”

Finally, he starts fucking you with one of his fingers, and then two. Eddie doesn't waste time, keeping a steady pace, letting you grind your clit on his palm. “You can't deny it because you know it's true. You know you love this, your body claims for me.”

You're grateful for the loud sound of the band playing, drowning out your little whimpers and moans. It's almost embarrassing how close you are already, his voice doing almost all the work for you, his thick fingers caressing your inner walls and hitting that spot inside you over and over.

Delirious little whispers of “yes, yes, yes” leave your bitten lips as you clench around him, tiny white stars behind your eyes as you cum. He keeps whispering sweet nothings in your ear — all you hear is a vague “that's it, that's my girl” at some point — as you come down, still working his fingers inside of you, slowly at first, and then removing them.

When you regain your senses, you notice the bulge in his leather pants digging into your backside.

“Are you bringing stakes around with you now?”

“Funny.” He says, but doesn't laugh. “Find me in the bathroom downstairs in five. I'm not done with you.”

Again, you feel colder when he's gone.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic

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hellcat8908 · 6 months

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I was wondering if i could please request one where it’s azriel x reader and she is exposed to a love potion by her ex or something so she breaks azs heart and leaves him for her ex. It is so sudden and reader is seemingly happy with her ex. it absolutely crushes him to see another male with reader. He tells the IC and they start to think. Amren suspects a spell and with the help of rhysand, azriel brings back reader who is enraged that they took her from her ex. Rhys uses his daemati powers to break the spell and reader goes back to normal. After that He kicks her exes ass👀

Under A Spell Azriel x Female Reader

After the day Azriel had, he was glad to finally be sitting across from you at dinner. He had greeted you with a kiss to the cheek and started asking how your day had been. He noticed your quiet demeanor and quickly asked what was wrong. "We need to talk." You answer. "Well, this can't be good." Azriel says. "I'm sorry, Az, this just isn't working out between us anymore." You say.

"What do you mean? We were so happy together earlier. What changed?" He asks, trying to keep his voice low so he doesn't cause a scene. "I don't know, my feelings for you have changed. I think it's best if we don't work together for a while until things are less awkward." You answer, trying to let him down easy.

"You can't be serious. I don't understand where this is suddenly coming from." He says. "I'm sorry, I never meant to hurt you. I still care about you, just not in that way." You answer. "I think it's best if I go. Take care of yourself, Azriel." You say before getting up and walking away. His heart shattered as he watched you leave.

Cassian decides to take Azriel out for a guys night a few days later, trying to cheer him up. They end up at Rita's and have a few drinks. Azriel hears your familiar laugh and starts searching the room for you. He bristles when he finds you at a table with your ex. You're constantly touching him and flirting shamelessly with him. Cassian follows Azriels eyes and finds what has him irritated.

"Let's get out of here." Cassian says, putting his hand on Azriel's shoulder, trying to pull his attention from you away. "What is she doing here with him? She can't stand the arrogant prick." Azriel says. "Maybe she can stand him after all. Maybe he has changed." Cassian says. "Let's go." Azriel says as he stands and starts making his way towards the exit.

The next day, Azriel is in a meeting with Rhys and Amren about something Amren was working on. Rhys noticed Azriels distraction and asked what was going on. Azriel tells him about seeing you at Rita's with your ex. Amren finds it odd that you'd be with your ex since you hated the way he treated you. "Let me try talking to her, see if I can learn anything else." Amren says. "Please do and let me know what you find out." Azriel says. Amren assures him she will.

The next day, she gets you to meet for lunch at Rita's. Amren is waiting at a small table when you happily greet her. "How have you been? I hear there's a new man in your life." Amren says. "I got back together with Kai recently." You admit to her. "I know it was sudden, but there's just something about him that draws me to him. I can't explain it."

"Are you sure this is what you want?" Amren asks. "I'm sure, I just wish I hadn't hurt Azriel with my decision." You answer, taking a sip of you tea. "How is, by the way? I saw him the other night out with Cassian." You inquire. "He's hanging in there, burying himself in work to keep his mind busy." Amren tells you. You suddenly feel guilty. "This was fun. We'll have to get together again." You say before rushing out.

Rhys and Azriel are going over reports at the river house. Amren walks in, "Well, I'm not sure what Kai has done to her, but she definitely isn't herself." She tells them. "Do some research and see what you can find out." Rhys says. "See if the priestess knows of anything that could point us in the right direction."

A few mornings later, you are walking out of the bookstore when Cassian walks up beside you. "Hey, y/n." He greets you. "Hey. What are you doing here?" You ask softly. "Rhys would like your help with something. He made it sound urgent. So here I am to escort you to the river house, if that's ok." He says. "Of course, always happy to help when I can." You tell him before he walks you to the river house and into Rhys' office.

"Glad to see you could come," Rhys says warmly as you enter the room. "Please have a seat." He says as he gestures to a chair. You hear the door closing draws your attention, noticing Azriel for the first time. You fidget under his gaze. "I'm sure you're wondering why I asked you here." Rhys says. "I think you've been exposed to a spell, and I just want to make sure you're safe." He continues.

"A spell? Is this about Kai?" You ask shooting a glare at Azriel. "This is absurd! Why can't you just accept that I'm with him now?!" You say as your voice rises. "If you're so sure he didn't do anything, then there's no harm in Rhys checking." Azriel says, keeping his tone even. "Fine, but when you discover that there's no spell, I want an apology and for you to stay out of my business." You tell him. "Deal." Azriel agrees.

You turn back to Rhys and lower your mental shields. You feel him inside your mind as he talks you through what he is doing. "That's what I'm looking for. He has altered your memories with him along with the feelings." Rhys announces as he focuses on breaking the spell. After a few minutes, he retreats from your mind as you sit silently in the chair. "Let's give y/n some privacy." Rhys says as he and cassian leave.

Once you hear the door shut behind them, you let the tears fall. In an instant, Azriel is lifting you out of the chair and carrying you to the couch, sitting you in his lap. "You're ok, angel, I've got you." He says softly as he holds you and gently strokes your hair. "Azriel, I'm so sorry. Will you ever be able to forgive me?" You ask between sobs. "There is nothing to forgive. You were under a spell."

You bury your face in his chest as his shadows swirl around you, offering you comfort. "I love you with all my heart, and I'm so sorry for the pain you've endured." You say softly. "I love you too, angel. I'm sorry you went through that." He says before kissing away your tears. He continues to hold you until you've settled down. "Are you ready to go home?" He asks you. "What about Kai?" You ask. "He'll be dealt with, I promise."

After winnowing you home, he starts making you some lunch while you sit at the island. "What will happen to Kai?" You ask while watching Azriel cook. "Depends on who finds him first." Azriel says. "If Rhys finds him first, he'll be a prisoner and sent to Hewn City." Azriel tells you. "What if you find him first?" You ask. "He'll be given a taste of what's to come at Hewn City." Azriel answers. "He deserves more than a taste. We were supposed to have dinner tonight. You could conveniently show up and give him a taste." You say with a wicked smile.

Later that night, you're seated at a table waiting for Kai to show up. He walks in shortly after your water arrives and greets you warmly. "How was your day?" You ask, not really caring. "It was pretty good, actually. How about yours?" He asks. "It was eventful." You answer. "What happened?" He asks as he looks over the menu. "Well, I went to the bookstore, then had an interesting meeting with Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel." You tell him, waiting for him to connect the dots.

"You know I don't like you being around your ex." He says as he puts the menu on the table. "That's funny because he doesn't like me being around you, especially when he found out you put a spell on me." You say flatly as Azriel comes to stand by your side. "Kai, how about we take this outside? I'd hate to cause a scene in here." Azriel says. "Do I have a choice?" Kai asks, sounding annoyed. "Not really." Azriel says before following Kai outside and into an alley.

"So what now, are you going to -" Kai's words are cut short by Azriel's fist connecting with his jaw, causing him to stumble back. Kai tries to regain his balance and throws a punch at Azriel. Azriel has no problem avoiding it and lands another hit to Kai's ribs. Before long, Kai is on the ground in a bloody heap as Azriel only has a few cuts from lucky punches.

Cassian and Rhys walk down the alley to where you're standing with Azriel. "Looks like we should've shown up sooner." Rhys says. "Kai's lucky we showed up at all. I'll take him to Hewn City to be officially dealt with." Cassian says as he picks up Kai and carries him off. "Thank you, Rhys. For everything you did to help me." You tell the high lord before he winnows home to his family. "I think it's time we went home too." Azriel says with a smile before kissing you as he winnows you home."

#acotar #batboys #sarah j maas #acotar fanfic #acotar fic #azriel #azriel x reader #shadowsinger x reader #azriel shadowsinger

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