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whirlybirbs · 3 years

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FEVER-DREAM ; echo/reader

summary: echo is fine-tuning his new prosthesis. you have experience, you help. unspoken feelings are acted on. adoration blooms. you learn what mesh’la means.

word count: 3k

pairing: echo / f!reader

tags: mutual pining, lots of tender looks, victorian-era hand-touching sluttiness, echo is a gentle soul, reader is head over heels, a touch of ptsd mention, set on ord mantell, mention of our boy fives, in this house we love assistive devices, enough sexual tension to power the death star

a/n: this is me round-house kicking the bad batch writers in the throat because they made echo cosplay a droid — but, also because this man deserves to be treated as more than a means to a mission’s end. majority of you know i am ~bitter~ (understatement of the century) of tbb’s plot/design/writing. but echo has been a favorite from the original days... so have some very soft fic.

i reference character redesigns by @nibeul in this piece — please go peep them here, and some updated character spreads here! they’re really beautiful and add a phenomenal layer of storytelling to the existing designs that’s lacking. nibuel’s art and writing is lovely. please give them a follow — i can’t rec their work enough.

“How does it feel?”

The words are nearly whispered; it’s clear you didn’t want to startle him, and Echo can feel the pinch in his brow soften at your sudden appearence in the doorway.

His bunk, at the back of the Havoc Marauder, is small — the space itself even more so. There’s a makeshift partition, hooked together with spare parts and meant to offer a bit of privacy on the cramped vessel. Its slate grey color has faded, and the edges have become tattered in the cycles of use.

When Echo pulls his dark eyes up from his work, you’re leaning against the frame — your expression is earnest.

For a moment, the once-ARC Trooper is quiet.

He wonders if he’ll ever get used to your attention. Each and every time, it sends him into a spiral; his heart catches as he inhales and tries to push down the warm stir in his gut. The sight of you is enough, nowadays, to melt Echo’s well-maintained irritability. His attention is stolen from his ever-present pain, if only for a bit.

There are plenty of days where he misses the old him — the wide-eyed, eager ARC Trooper who had his brothers by his side. His real brothers. Hevy, Cutup, Droidbait... Fives.

Fuckin’ hell, Fives was probably staring down at him now laughing.

No matter what changes, you’re still shit with the ladies, vod’ika.

In a way he hasn’t fully admitted to himself, you make him feel like himself again. Like... Like some shiny cadet, on leave and distracted by the promises of pretty smiles passing-by. It’s good.

This makes him feel... good.

He flexes, and his right hand — the new, gunmetal durasteel cyberized-prosthesis — closes into a tight fist. It’s taken him a bit, but the feeling isn’t so foreign now. It’s still... slow. Slower than he’s used to, but you’d mentioned it may take some time. The phantom feelings get better, too. All in all, it’s a good thing.

Your own hand, your left, glimmers back in the same gunmetal color.

(Echo had never pressed you about the missing limb — not until one day, in Cid’s, you’d joined him in a quiet corner. You’d spilled your drink and a complaint about getting the star-cherry syrup out of the joints had slipped out. Echo had laughed; a real laugh, the sort that was so rare coming from him, it had you staring at him as if he’d hung ever star in the sky.

Can I ask how it happened? he’d said, breaking the heavy silence when your eyes never left his.

The Pykes, you’d said, and that was enough.)

“I haven’t, uh... Haven’t gotten the sensory calibration right yet.”

Then, his prosthesis cramps. His fingers go rigid, and Echo curses sharply as he reaches around his forearm to quickly reboot the appendage. It goes slack, then hums alive once more.

You wince.

You’re slow to move into the room — and you settle atop one of the crates Echo had stolen from the belly of the ship, an old Mantell Mix shipping container. You’re mindful to set his datapad aside, to not disturb his space too much. Before you reach for his hand, however, you lift your chin and open your hands in your lap.

“May I?” you ask, just as soft as before.

Echo feels small under your gaze.

Truth be told, you’re doing more than just... asking. You’re taking him in — appreciating him. It’s a habit that’s grown more and more apparent to not only himself, but the others.

In recent rotations, Echo has let his hair grow out — not long, but the once close buzz he’d kept has begun to curl at the top. Not entirely dissimilair to how it was before the Citadel. The dermal implants, the ones the Techno Union installed in order to parse the nuerological data in his head, stand out against his warm-colored skin.

His usual AJ^6-inspired headpiece is resting on his bunk.

That damn thing.

A neccesary tool. One that, given the amount of user data Tech had procured when working on modifying the implant, Echo found himself immediately distrusting. It wasn’t as if the AJ^6 cyborg construct had a beautiful track record, and frankly, Echo would like to keep his personality in tact, thank you very much. There were plenty of days he felt machine enough.

It wasn’t often you saw him without the headset; you knew it made linking in via his scomp easier to handle, it made the visualization of data transfers as easy as breathing. For Echo, it was a part of his vast kit, an important tool. For you, seeing him without it bubbles up a bit of a smile.

Echo catches it.

His eyes narrow playfully.

He looks... well. You — hell, are there words for it? For the way the sight of him makes you feel? It’s like there’s a world full of potential there, a thousand words unsaid, and feelings that have steeped in the warmth of longing gazes and half-there touches.

You’re still looking up at him, knees bent on the crate.

You blink, realizing you’ve been caught staring — not for the first time and certainly not for the last. In the beginning, it had left a sour taste in Echo’s mouth. But, now... Well, it stokes a sort of pride in his chest that he hangs onto.

It never gets easier to recover from — certainly not when Echo smirks. He moves to allow you to take his prosthesis into your lap. The gesture is gentle; your fingers cradle the firm yet pliable metal.

“What?” he asks. His voice, low and rough and warm, is tinted with amusement.

“Nothing,” you say vaguely with a shrug — as if that’s supposed to explain any part of your enamored stare. Your attention moves to the prosthesis.

“Nothing?” he asks, moving to thumb his left ear with his free hand with a dash of nervousness. A habit. Echo tilts his head as his fingers brush the cochlear implant there. The panel rests neatly against the side of his head, a small rounded-off square. The bite of self-consciousness has dwindled around you — but still, it creeps back up every now and again.

The Corporal’s brows knot playfully as you turn his new hand over in your lap; you’re admiring the upgraded feel, the more seamless panelling in comparison to your own. Echo watches your lashes flutter in silent thought.

Then:

“You’re a terrible liar, you know.”

You blink slowly at the hand, swallow down your sudden sheepishness and ignore his gaze. You bite back the smile digging into your cheeks. “Maybe.”

“Do I have something on my face?” he asks suddenly, and you look up.

A baited trick. He’s smiling.

The warm sort — the sort reserved for you and for Omega. The two souls that hold a piece of his heart, with all its ticking valves and electric timed pulses. There are machinisms that keep him alive, and then there is you. Your wide-eyed expression melts, giving way to the sort of smile he’s tried to memorize over and over. It’s the same smile that has warded off that reoccuring nightmare of the night on the tarmac at the Citadel, the same smile that has pulled him through the grit of phantom pains.

“What—” a sudden laugh bursts from your chest, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You were staring, mesh’la,” he rumbles out as a reminder, enjoying the fact he’s suddenly become the center of your attention. Echo leans back, his boot toeing yours. You nudge it back. Your face feels hot. You ignore his pointedly teasing look with a roll of your eyes.

The nickname started a few weeks ago. You haven’t asked what it means — no, for now it’s meaning hangs in the balance. Untouched but there. The affection the word carries makes your heart feel heavier and unbelievably full.

“Bad habit,” you chirp back, looking up at him through your lashes.

His laugh is warm.

“Maybe not.”

“No,” you say quietly; your voice is soft as your eyes bounce across his face, tracing the lines of his face with your gaze, “I don’t think it is.”

There’s a silence that slips between you — a comfortable one. It’s heavier than before. That has begun to happen recently, especially with the petal-soft utterance of mesh’la becoming more and more frequent. You hold his gaze. Echo lets out a soft, contented sigh.

Then, you remember the task at hand.

You clear your throat.

“Uh... The access panel I’m looking for,” you say slowly as your raise your finger to point to your own arm, “It’s on your bicep.”

Echo blinks. He clears his own throat before looking down — he hadn’t even noticed that access panel. That could explain the jarring miscommunication stalling the limb. This model had more bells and whistles than he initally realized.

Better than a fuckin’ scomp link, that’s for sure.

Wordlessly, Echo makes room on his bunk. You move to settle beside him, your bent leg resting aginst his hip as you half-straddle the bed; your other knee brushes his thigh — and Echo tries to sit still. You’re close, now.

“Is it okay if...?” you trail off, fingers tugging on the short sleeve of his blacks; you pause until Echo offers a curt nod. You catch him swallow. You push onward, fingers nimbly rolling the fabric up over his broad bicep.

Echo steals a glance your way as your fingers pass across a slip of his bare skin.

In his lap, both his hands twitch.

He’s no small man. Lean and athletic, Echo is built like a soldier. Omega had said once that Echo was an ARC Trooper, one of the best of the best. You believed every bit of it, and you’d hung on her words when she’d rambled on about ARC training, about Kamino, and about who Echo was before you knew him. It was all in the past, though. That Echo is a part of this Echo but... They’re different men. He’s been changed by the things that have happened.

You don’t press him on the details.

In time, they’re slipped into conversation here and there — between the here and now.

In the beginning, when you’d found yourself amongst the crew of the Havoc Marauder — be it for a simple job on Cid’s behalf — Echo had hardly paid you a moment of attention, though you admit you’d been curious from the start. It had taken three jobs for you to finally see his face. Then began the slow and gradual bonding over catching joints, grating plates, and hardware updates. His legs, your arm. Two pieces of a pair.

Now, he has this. A beautiful new upgrade — something he’s wanted for a long time. A part of his old self is back, in a way.

You liked that it was more than just a tool. That, in having this piece of his body back, he felt like more than a tool. More than a scomp link.

After all, he is a man — a... a very handsome man. One whose proximity is sort of distracting you, again, from the task at hand.

“The panel here,” you say as you slowly press on the seam that enables the settings panel to be revealed; you’re mindful to explain, “It controls sensory outputs, as well as synchonized synaptic commands. The panel on my forearm does the same to my hand, yours is just... well, you’ve got the new and improve version.”

Echo ducks his head as you work, watching you from the corner of his eye. “Feeling a bit jealous, mesh’la?”

“Maybe,” you breathe out with a smile.

Then, you lift your eyes. You intended to see that he was still comfortable, but instead you come face to face with the Corporal. His nose nearly brushes yours when you lift you chin, completely dragged in by the closeness shared.

There’s a beat of tension. Echo’s mouth goes dry.

You fingers pause. You swallow hard. “How... uh, how does it feel?”

Echo tightens his grip, then releases. His breath tickles your cheeks. His eyes, a deep, warm brown, flit from your eyes to your mouth, and then back. His voice is a croak.

“...Same as before.”

You tinker with a dial, eyes never leaving his; your voice is above a whisper. “And now?”

It’s immediate. Like a rush of cold air up his arm — and on instinct, Echo’s hand twitches. His fingers grip the fabric of his blacks, along his thigh, and... he feels it. The smooth, stretch of the material. It’s... it feels like a lot. His fingertips, metallic and cyberized, tingle. It’s distracting.

He can feel.

His hand is slow. It moves across to bridge the space between you. His pointer finger settles on the curve of your knee; the feeling of your tactical pants beneath his fingertip is ignored, instead he chases the heat of your body.

Your breath catches at the touch.

Echo’s face is turned to you, but... his attention has settled on his hand. His palm then sweeps across your thigh. He follows the curve, soaks in the feeling. You’re frozen in place, beating back the desperate sound of appreciation that threatens to be pulled from your throat. The touch is... more than welcomed.

The closeness itself is making you dizzy.

Then, Echo turns — and the warm, durasteel-plated palm finds your cheek.

Your skin is hot.

“Is this okay, mesh’la?” he whispers, words riding on a quiet exhale — the sort that make you feel... well, you don’t even have words for the way he makes you feel. Echo is... kind, honest, and loyal. Above all else, he’s gentle. Despite it all, despite every bit of horror he’d been put through, he’d never lost sight of the importance of a gentle hand. Especially now in a moment as intimate as this. It coaxes you closer.

You lean into the cybernetic attachment, cheek resting in his palm. You nod, then, with eyes eager to take in every bit of this moment.

He chuckles at the enthusiasm. Echo’s thumb, deft and smooth, then traces the line of your lower lip.

The feeling is... the gnawing pain that he’s felt for nearly a year has melted. Finally, the itch has been scratched in his brain and the hollow ache of his bones is gone. It’s relief, and comfort, and excitement and all these beautiful things — and you.

You’re stuck — you don’t want to move, you won’t move. He’s rooted you completely, and when his other hand — the calloused and warm one of flesh and blood — finds it’s spot along your thigh, you swallow a lovesick sigh that would only exaserbate your desperation.

Your mouth is moving before you realize it.

“What does it mean?”

Echo’s eyes narrow, only a bit, and he runs his thumb up your cheekbone.

“What does what mean?”

“Mesh’la,” it sounds foreign on your tongue. It’s not Hutteese or Twi’leki, not like any language you know, “Will you tell me what it means, Echo?”

The corner of his lips quirk. Your eyes jump to it.

You feel like someone’s reached right into your chest and given your heart a squeeze — and it only worsens when he laughs. He laughs, deep and quiet and warm, like a thunderstorm on a summer night. It feels cruel, to string you along like this when you’re here, lips parted, hanging off his every touch and his every word.

“Beautiful,” he says quietly as his other hand touches your jaw — it’s so damn reverent, this little moment in time, that you almost don’t believe it’s real.

It feels like a dream — like someone has come in and stolen your thoughts from you; like the unrequited yearning has finally stoked a fire large enough to burn you up entirely, a fever you never knew you wanted.

His nose brushes yours.

Your fingers wind into the fabric of his chest. You’re clinging, lost to the moment — and you can’t help wonder if this is how it feels when he catches you adoring him. He’s admiring you so tenderly that you nearly break.

You want to kiss him.

He’s thought about nothing but kissing you for the last five days at least. Longer in his dreams. Nowadays, it’s a constant pull, a constant want.

And now, it’s here — a present and current moment where it can happen. Where he can stop being a shiny cadet and he can make a move...

Enter Omega.

“Echo, we’re back—!”

The telltale hammer of a girl’s boots on the floor signals that the party is back from their supply run — but you’re so far off, spinning in a different universe, you don’t even hear her until its too late... Until Echo is yanking himself away and clearing his throat and rolling his wrist to test the prosthesis in a different way, a less intimate way.

You blink, then rattle yourself back to the present. Omega is in the doorway staring with a quizzical look. Clearly, your state does little to dissuade the assumptions she’s already making and you can see the gears turning in her head. The dark-haired girl then slowly grins.

“Hi.”

You swallow. “Hi, Omega.”

“...Whatcha guys doin’?”

Echo coughs. “Uh, just fine-tuning the new upgrade.”

“...Riiiiiight.”

You rub your cheeks and laugh — clearly forced and incredibly pained — as you stand up and nearly ram your head right into the top of Echo’s bunk. It’s met with a hiss of warning from the trooper as he jumps up to try and protect you from the impact.

“Well! Uh, thanks for letting me help, Echo,” you clap, rocking back and forth on your boots, “I, uh... Oh, Cid called. I should... I should get back—”

“Yea,” he says, straining a bit to find the words, “Yea, I’ll... I’ll comm you if it starts to, uh... If it starts to act up?”

Omega watches the exchange, big brown eyes moving from left to right.

“Good, great — yea, that’s,” you inhale as you rub your thighs and move towards the door, “Perfect. Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Bye!” Omega calls, waving.

You wave back, smiling. “Bye, Omega.”

Then, once it’s only Echo and Omega in the bunk, the tween speaks.

“...What the kriff was that?”

#HE IS A CORPORAL!!!!!#let echo say fuck #and omega #echo x reader #echo imagine #arc trooper echo x reader #echo/reader #echo/you #echo x you #tcw imagine #tbb imagine #sw imagine #the bad batch imagine #THANK YOU ANON WHO SENT ME THE UPDATED SPREADS #LOVE U ANGEL

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the-witch-of-one-piece · 3 years

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Marco x reader : the red string of fate SFW

Authors note: I finished writing this a week ago and was hesitant to post it just because I was too shy to do it at first but now it is currently 12:27am and I have work in 7 hours why not. I hope you all enjoy this little story of my FAVORITE character on One Piece Marco. Words can’t describe him they honestly can’t I love him <3 Thank you Syd for letting me participate in this event :) oh god this will be my first published work I ever did. This had brought my confidence up just a bit more. And I think I would be able to start posting more of my work that I have only my laptop and possibly taking some request from people. also this is my first time posting on my laptop I’m hoping I did this right! Sorry for the rambling - Valval

Word count: 1,408

Title: Red string of fate SWF

You kept having this reoccurring dream of a silhouette figure that was blurred out the only thing you were able to see was the red string tied on their left ring finger. On the other end of the string it was wrapped around your left ring finger. The closer you stepped to one another trying to see the persons face you would wake up...Waking up your half lidded eyes looking up at the ceiling letting out a restless sigh. Raising up your left hand up you could see the red string from time to time. The witch on the island told me the red string represents a soulmate connection. The reason the dreams are happening more often is because they are close. Her words echoed in the back of my head often “your destined to be with this person your souls are connected”

Finally, deciding to get out of bed and getting ready for the day. You felt yourself more anxious/ nervous . What if I’m not what they expected and reject me? Shaking your head getting rid of all the negativity out of my mind. I’m just going to let it happen ands where it goes. Entering the plaza seemed pretty busy for a Friday morning. You entered the shop of the elder witch. “Morning Eloise.” Smiling at her. She was bit older I would come help her run the shop and pick up items she needed to be stocked on.

“Morning my dear. I’m glad you're here.” She gotten up from her chair. “I’m actually going to need you to pick up some items for me today.” Handing me a list.

“I picked up sage and mugwort a few days ago you ran out already?” You asked her seeing both of them on the list.

“Oh yes I used it all. If you’re could go now it would be best.” She smiled pushing you out the door. Looking at the list once again memorizing the list. You made it to her herb shop there were only a few people on the store. Grabbing the the items on the list and the last thing was the mugwort. Seeing the jar of the dry herbs on the highest shelf. Trying to reach it you even were standing on your tippy toes you still couldn’t reach it. A hand reach out for it bringing it down to me.

“Saw ya struggling to get it down. Here ya go yoi.” The guy said. You turned facing the man wanting to thank him when you stopped for a moment. The tall blonde with a lazy smile looked at me. Why is my heart beating rapidly just looking at him. Feeling a bit embarrassed for looking at him too long and not saying anything you finally manage to get some words out.

“Thank you.” You said as you went grab the jar from his hand you seen a red string tied on his left ring finger following the the red string the other end was tied to yours. It’s him he standing in front of me. What do I do. Mentally freaking out making your cheeks burn. He looked at you curiously.

“You okay? You don’t look too well.” He said a bit concerned.

“No I’m fine just a bit stuffy in here I should get going.” You quickly said as you grabbed the jar. Now he’s going to think I’m weird. Oh god first impression fail. Walking to the counter paying for items. You walked out the store. Through the window your eyes met with his he gave you a smile. Your cheeks still burning red you walked back to the Eloise shop. Why did I just walk away? Now regretting the decision that you left the herb shop. The red string on your finger didn’t disappear it was still showing. Eloise must have known he was coming and seen where he was going to be at. You made it back to the shop.

“oh you're back so soon?” Eloise said placing some Palo santos on the counter.

“Did you send me there because you knew he was going to be there.” Asking her placing the items down on the counter one hand on your hip.

“Did you get his name?” She said taking the items and placing them on the back counter walking back one hand on her hip the other resting on the counter. “ was he cute?”

Running your fingers through your hair “I didn’t get his name.... I was too busy staring at him like a creep... I couldn’t help it though he was really cute.. Once I stopped staring of him then trying to say something I saw the string i got completely nervous I left quickly.... And now the red string won’t disappear.” Looking at your hands and the red string. Eloise let out a little sigh.

“______ my dear this is your opportunity...don’t let it get away. I let mines get away from me years ago and I regret not following her it has been over 10 years and I still haven’t forgotten her.” She walked to me cupping my cheeks. “Don’t make my mistake. You deserve to be happy in this life time.”

She was right...all the relationships you had didn’t last a lot of heart breaks over the years. It lowered your self esteem you put so much effort in every relationship to try to make it work but they didn’t last. I do deserve to be happy I’m not going to ruin this. “I hope I’m not too late..” You said grabbing your bag getting ready to walk back to the shop. Praying and hoping he was a slow shopper and didn’t leave.

The door opened you seen the tall blonde a hand in his pocket. “Hey you kinda left in a rush. I wanted to see if you were really okay yoi.” He said walking a bit closer.

Eloise seen before her the red string that connected you both. She slowly walked to the back of the shop pretending to be busy as she wanted to hear the conversation. Looking at the blonde the pink on your cheeks arose once again. “How did you find me?”

He smiled as he lifted his left hand the red string that you were both connected too. “I followed the red string of fate. The story goes if you see the red string tied to your left ring finger and it’s connected to another person your destined to be with this person your souls are connected.”

“You knew.” The pink hues on your cheeks appeared brighter you could have swore steam was coming out of your ears.

A throat chuckled came from him as he nodded. “As soon as you entered the shop you caught my attention before I noticed the string tied to your finger. I never seen such a beautiful woman before yoi. You looked so focused on your list it was cute.” closing his eyes for a moment a small smile on his lips formed “So this is where you been all my life ______.”

He knew my name already. I don’t recall my name being mentioned at the shop today. “How did you” before you could finish the sentence he responded

“The owner of the herb shop gave me your name. I should have introduce myself sooner but boy your quick. I’m Marco pleasure to meet you yoi.” He reached for my hand. As our hands touched one another you saw little scenes of your future with him. Being held in his arms, Holding his hand, waking up next to him and sharing your first kiss with one another. Both of your hands lingered in one another’s for a moment longer before drawing your hands back. Tucking your hair behind your ear both eyes meeting again. “I know this is a bit bold of a move but would you like to join me for a coffee yoi?” He asked

“Yes I would like that.” The tint of pink dusted your cheeks. “I know a really good place we can go for coffee.” Suggesting to him.

“Well in that case I will follow your lead ______.” His hand reached for yours. You gladly reached for his hand the feeling of his warm soothing hand against mines made my anxious feeling melt away this time. “No needs to be anxious anymore... this is were our journey begins yoi.” He kissed the back of her hand.

#tooweirdforyou #one piece #marco the phoenix #marco x reader #marco the pineapple #marco the phoenix x reader #syd's summer festivities #i did it #one piece reader insert #one piece x reader

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knifewieldingenby · 3 years

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You shine, a Jaskel fic

This prompt comes from the lovely @kueble who always helps me when I’m dealing with writers block, thank you dear friend.

Summary: Jaskier keeps giving Eskel jewelry and he can’t fathom who someone like Jaskier would be courting him.

Content: Jaskel, courting jewelry, insecure Eskel, very mild mentions of sex (but nothing explicit), T

*written and pasted from my phone, I apologize if the format ends up being weird*

———

“What a performance!” Jaskier flopped down on his bed and sighed deeply. Eskel sat across from him on his own bed and smiled.

“You certainly had them eating out of your hands,” he said as he worked his armor off piece by piece. Normally he’d go up to the room first and take it off, but he wanted to see Jaskier perform tonight. The bard had been bursting with energy all day and Eskel knew it was going to be a good one. Besides, he could never resist the beauty that was Jaskier performing for a crowd. His face lit up, fire in his eyes, and every so often he threw a smile Eskel’s way that somehow felt different than the smile he reserved for his audience. It felt personal. Eskel wasn’t stupid enough to think it meant anything, but he was allowed to dream, even if it never came true.

“Easy crowd to please, I suppose.”

“Since when are you modest?”

Jaskier laughed and pushed himself up on his elbows. “You’re right, it was all me.”

Eskel rolled his eyes fondly. He watched out of the corner of his eyes as Jaskier got up and crossed the room, fiddled with his pack a bit before coming to sit next to him.

“I got you a gift.”

Eskel cocked an eyebrow. “A gift?”

“Mm-hmm.” He opened his palm and Eskel’s eyes widened. It was a ring, a simple gold band that glistened in the dim candle-lit room. He was too shocked to respond. A gift was one thing, but this...jewelry was different. Maybe in another life it would mean something different, but in this lifetime no one gave jewelry unless they were courting someone, and that just couldn’t be right.

“You’re giving me a ring?”

“Yup!” He smiled brightly. Eskel didn’t know what to say. Surely Jaskier couldn’t mean...he couldn’t want Eskel. But it would be rude to turn it down and Eskel didn’t want to be that person. He mumbled out a thank you and hastily shoved the ring in his pocket. He caught a glimpse of something shift in Jaskier’s face.

“You don’t want it,” Jaskier said.

“What? No, of course I - I just thought-“

“Give it to me.”

Eskel cringed. This was the moment he’d feared, the moment Jaskier realized that he didn’t actually want to court Eskel. He pulled the ring back out and dropped it in Jaskier’s outstretched hand. To his surprise, Jaskier took his hand in his own. He carefully slid the ring on Eskel’s index finger and then squeezed his hand gently.

“I want you to have it,” Jaskier said softly, their eyes meeting, and Eskel couldn’t look away from that intense gaze. He swallowed through his tight throat and nodded.

Jaskier tilted his head. “Unless of course, you really don’t want it.”

“I want it,” Eskel said far too quickly, and he tried to ignore the way his cheeks burned from the admission. Jaskier smiled and squeezed his hand again.

They retired to their beds not long afterward, and Jaskier, as always, fell asleep quickly. Eskel on the other hand tossed and turned restlessly. He twisted the ring over and over, tracing the gold band with his finger, and wondered how Jaskier knew it would fit. It was true that he would occasionally take Eskel’s hand when they were settled at camp, play with his fingers lightly, but that was...just Jaskier. It was how he was with everyone he was close to.

...Right?

Eskel closed his eyes and attempted to quiet his mind. This was a one off thing, he was sure. Jaskier would quickly realize that Eskel was not the kind of man he wanted to be with, not safe enough, not handsome enough, and move on. Once the novelty of courting a Witcher wore off he would be off courting beautiful maidens and attractive blacksmiths like he did before Eskel showed up. That thought hurt more than he cared to admit to himself, but it was the truth.

With that in mind he settled and fell into a fitful slumber.

Two weeks went by and Jaskier didn’t say anything about the ring, though Eskel never took it off. He was waiting for the day when Jaskier asked him to take it off. The bard’s behavior hadn’t changed much. Sure, maybe it was true that he winked and threw smiles at Eskel more often during his performances than he had before, and maybe he’d bought Eskel sweet treats from the market without prompting, and maybe he’d played his favorite song just for him, and maybe…

He still didn’t say anything about the jewelry and Eskel wasn’t going to bring it up, for fear of reminding Jaskier what he’d done and making him regret it.

On a cool early Autumn evening they were sitting around camp after dinner, Jaskier strumming his lute idly while Eskel organized his potions, when Jaskier suddenly jumped up and rushed to his pack. He came back with something in his hands and knelt next to Eskel.

“Got you something,” he said. Eskel’s eyebrows raised as Jaskier opened his hands and revealed a long gold chain with a buttercup pendant. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to, I know it’s a little more delicate than Witchers typically prefer, but-“

“I’ll wear it.” Eskel pulled what little hair he had along his neck away and dipped his head slightly. He hoped Jaskier would get the message.

He heard a soft chuckle and moments later felt the warmth of Jaskier’s hands ghosting his neck as the bard fastened the chain around him. He raised his head but his eyes were on the chain. The gold brought out warm tones in his skin.

“I- thank you.”

“Thank you for wearing it. If you decide you don’t want...this, you can take it off. I won’t- I’ll understand.”

“What is this exactly?” Eskel asked before his brain could stop him.

“What do you want it to be?”

And there was that intense look in Jaskier’s eyes again, a look that warmed Eskel just as much as it confused him. He knew what it meant when other people gave each other jewelry out of the blue but this was different. Nobody in their right mind courted a Witcher. Well, apart from other Witchers. He thought briefly of Lambert, who had been courted by a Cat, pretending he hated it but getting defensive if anyone so much as suggested he take the jewelry off. They all knew he secretly loved it.

“I want what I can’t have.” Perhaps that was a bit too honest, too vulnerable, but he didn’t care. Jaskier was so close. With their faces mere inches apart at this point he could feel the pull to lean forward, press their lips together, get lost in the softness that was the bard.

Jaskier’s eyes flicked to his lips and back as if he was thinking the same thing. “If you want me, dear, I’m yours.”

“But-“

“No buts. I’m yours.”

“Can I…” His eyes traveled to the bard’s lips again, and his heart softened at the gentle smile he received in response.

“Yes.”

He slowly reached up and took Jaskier’s face between his hands, hesitating as if giving him a chance to change his mind. But Jaskier didn’t; he made the first move, leaning forward and capturing Eskel’s lips in the softest of kisses. It didn’t last long but when they parted Eskel felt light-headed and Jaskier was smiling dreamily at him.

“Um…” Eskel shifted awkwardly and pointed to their bedrolls. “We should…”

“Do that again?” Jaskier said hopefully. His eyes were hungry and Eskel wanted to drown in them, memorize that look forever. This time he moved, and when they kissed again it wasn’t soft - it was fierce and consuming, and definitely something Eskel could get used to.

A week later they lay in bed, sheets tangled around their sweaty bodies, limbs intertwined. Jaskier was on his back and Eskel was draped half over him, head leaning on his shoulder. He traced Jaskier’s stomach with his fingers and noted how pretty the gold from his rings looked against Jaskier’s skin. Rings, plural, because Jaskier had given him another one earlier that night. It had an inscription in Elder that meant beloved, and Eskel had to bite back uncharacteristic tears when he first saw it.

“Why gold?”

“Hmm?” Jaskier’s voice was soft and still somewhat dazed from their love making.

“You always get me gold jewelry. Why is that?”

A silence stretched out between them. Jaskier reached down and intertwined their fingers. “Because silver is for monsters, right?”

Eskel startled at that, his throat constricting, and he buried his face in Jaskier’s neck so that the man couldn’t see the way his eyes watered. He’d always thought of himself as a monster, much as he wouldn’t admit it to the other Witchers. He thought himself monstrous in a way he would never see his brothers. But here was Jaskier, saying the exact opposite. It felt so wrong and so right at the same time.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he mumbled into Jaskier’s neck.

“I know. But I wanted to.” He placed a kiss on Eskel’s forehead.

Eskel never thought he’d get this, never thought he deserved it. But maybe, just maybe, he did

——————

This is my first time writing Jaskel so please let me know how I did! Thank you for reading! :D

#Jaskel #Jaskier #Eskel #Jaskier x Eskel #Jaskel fanfic #my writing

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strawberryspence · 3 years

Text

Vienna

Angst | Spencer Reid x FEM! BAU! Female

Summary: Spencer meets the love of his life while Reader continues to the search for her love for life.

Word Count: 2,1k.

Warnings: angst, no happy ending, reference to having sex, lots of sentimental stuff, rossi has a part in this he was the only old OLD member

Writer’s Note: Hello! I am sad, so this happened... I wanted to clear up that I used the song Vienna in this, tho the meaning of the song is more of a “slow down, you have a whole life ahead of you.” I took the song and made it the direct opposite which for me is “find yourself and never stop until you find it. vienna (your destined destination) waits for you.” I didn’t edit this and I wrote it in one sitting so I am sorry for the mistakes. This is basically me venting out my emotions and I am not entirely sure if this made sense.

Spencer knew that you would change his life the moment you stepped foot in the BAU conference room.

You were a new agent with a fiery passion for the job. You were a Psychology Professor before quitting and took up Criminology and after that you ended up in the BAU. You were eager to learn, always on the go and was always energetic to do any job Hotch gives you. You had a heart of gold and would do absolutely anything for anyone in the team and Spencer was in no doubt completely in love with you.

It took Spencer a year and a month to finally ask you out. By this time, you were already close. It wasn’t hard to be friends with you, you radiate warmth and brightness and you were always so kind to everyone. He honestly felt embarrassed and weak. You were this amazing, strong person but Spencer... he was only Spencer.

“W-would you like to get dinner? Or... L-like coffee?” Spencer fidgets with his fingers, staring at his stained converse as it lines up to your black ankle boots. The contrast was jarring, it shows the two opposite spectrums of your personalities. When he looks up, your face was hard to read and it makes his heart beat harder against his chest.

“Like... a date?” Spencer watches as you chew on your inner cheek, something you do when you’re nervous or anxious.

“Yes... But if you don’t want to it’s okay! You can forget what I sai—“ Spencer raises his hand as a sign of goodbye, as the other grips his satchel. He turns halfway before you hold his catch his arms, stopping him from leaving.

“No! I want dinner! I mean, coffee! Whatever it is!” He looks back at you, a smile now forming in your face, and no matter how many times Spencer have seen it, it still catches he’s breathe.

“Really?” A grin starts forming in his face as he watches a shade of pink color your cheeks, “Yes. Tell me when and where. I’ll be there.”

The date was perfect. Spencer picks you up with a bouquet of daisies in his hands. You pick one of the daisies, clipping it in your hair for the rest of the night making it hard for Spencer to look away from you for the rest of the night. He reserved a table for two in a small, quaint cafe. Even with the nerves Spencer had, the date went smoothly. You talked, he talked and it was just like any other day but this time it was a date.

That date leads to another one, and another one, and another one, until you both finally made it clear that you two were dating.

It leads to numerous adventures.

To museums where Spencer becomes your own tour guide, where he teaches you everything he can teach you, where he watches you become one of the beautiful art pieces and where he realizes that he can take something so beautiful and surreal home.

To libraries where Spencer opens a book, any genre, and reads it you as you both take a journey to another world together, where you watch him read books that he probably already have memorized in the back of his head and where you realized that the world is so much bigger than you thought. More than anything it makes you itch for that world.

To movie nights which more often than so ends up with you on his lap, making out like you were both craving for something only the other can give. If it does, you both end up in bed, tangled in each other as both of you catch your breathe as you make love to one another. If it doesn’t, you both watch a movie chosen by the other and just sit in comfortable silence, cuddled into each others warm body.

To coffee shops where you both try as many different kinds of pastries, making a list of which one has the best pastries. The little corner shop down the street near the library is where Spencer learns that you liked croissants but only if they had chocolate in them. In the cafe down on 5th near the pet store, you learned that Spencer liked his blueberry muffin with cream cheese. The expensive, posh coffee shop in the high end street is where you were both kicked out for laughing way too much when you both realize that a muffin costs ten dollars each.

It leads to numerous sleepovers on Spencer’s double bed. Waking up to a new day with you was the best thing in the morning. Waking up tangled with your limbs all around him, waking up to you making him his favorite coffee and pancakes in bed, waking up to your naked body pressed unto him as you dream of him some place else.

It leads to home cooked dinners with silly dance numbers in the middle, warm hugs after hard cases and silent whispers of It’s okay’s, picnics in the park with packed sandwiches and it leads to five hundred, eighty one, forever treasured I love you’s.

One date leads you to numerous adventures and dates with Spencer.

But it was also a year and a month into the relationship when Emily video calls you both for a job offer in Interpol. She says, it would be a breathe of fresh air for the both of you. A new adventure. Together.

Spencer was set in his ways. Virginia was the closest thing he’ll ever have to a home and that’s because of the BAU. They were family. Penelope and JJ are the sisters he never had. Will, Henry and Michael was his extended family. Derek is his best friend and he loved being near him and Hank. Hotch and Rossi was the closest thing he’ll get to some kind of a father figure and he didn’t want to lose that in his life. He has long set his roots in this place, his home and he immediately shakes his head and declines.

He looks over you when the silence was to deafening to ignore and it doesn’t take a profiler to see the hesitation in your face. There was a spark in your eyes, the same one he saw when you first came to the BAU, the spark of excitement. You look at him and you see the way his eyes shines with sadness as he realizes that this was what you wanted. You shake your head at Emily and declines.

Emily smiles as she says her goodbye before reassuring both of you that there will always be a position open for the both of you in her team if ever anyone changes their mind.

That one video call leads to exactly six fights about the job opportunity. Spencer knew that you wanted to go and the selfish part of him wanted to hold unto you. So he did, he held, and he held, and he held until he couldn’t anymore.

Spencer stays late at the BAU one night. The two of you haven’t been the same since the job offer. You have left earlier to go home as he stares at the place he has called his home. Can he leave this? Was his love for you enough to leave everything he has known half his life?

“What’s keeping you here?” Spencer snaps out of the thought, looking up from his paper work to Rossi leaning over the railing right across his office.

“Nothing.” He looks back down, but he can see Rossi giving him a soft smile, “News flies fast around here.”

Spencer snaps back his head, “What?” Rossi nods, “We all know.” He continues to chew on his lip.

“I don’t know what to do.” Rossi walks down the stairs, walking closer to Spencer, “You remember Y/N’s first few weeks?” Spencer nods, the memory of your first week still vivid in his mind.

“You remember how before she was in the BAU she was a psychology professor? When she came on her first day,” Rossi smiles, reminiscing as he continues, “Remember how eager she was to do everything? There was this spark in her eyes and she was just passionate about the job and to learn?” Spencer nods again.

“Kid, in my life, I have met two kinds of people. The Mover and The Homebody. The Mover is the one who moves, they never get enough of the high that life can give, they go around looking for more adventures to learn and to help them grow,” Rossi looks down at him, a sad smile on his face, “Then there is the Homebody. Its not a bad thing to stay in one place. They are the ones who set roots in one place and grows in that place, they get comfortable and make that place in their life their home.”

“Are you saying I am a homebody? And Y/N is a mover?” Rossi forces a smile, giving his shoulder a pat.

“If you’re so smart then tell me, why are you still so afraid.” Rossi sings before giving him one last smile as he turns his back, not giving Spencer the chance to ask what he meant.

Spencer later learns from Penelope that it was a song written by Billy Joel. He asks Penelope if he can hear it by himself in her bat cave and she immediately agrees, leaving him alone with a song someone wrote in 1977 that perfectly fits and embodies you. As the final beats hit his ears, Spencer lets go of you.

The next twenty one days comes in a swift. Spencer stands in the airport as the team says their teary goodbyes to you. The team leaves to give the two of you space and privacy to say your goodbye.

“Spencer... I am sorry.” Spencer gives a smile. It wasn’t fake, there was no bad blood. He wanted to let you go, to go find the best version of yourself.

“This is what you need in your life to grow. I am happy for you.” Your eyes sparkle in tears as your heart softens.

“I’ll be back, if you are still in the same place as we are today, can we pick up were we left?” Spencer nods, as he opens his satchel and reaches in for a box.

You open it and inside is the same daisy you pinned in your hair on your first date, but it was dried and framed. You look up at him with questions in your eyes, “I stole it from you after our first date. I kept it for future purposes but it’s more suiting to give it to you right now.”

“Last call for passengers of flight 582 bound for London. Again, last call for passengers of flight 582 bound for London.” You both look at each other as the announcement rings through your ears

“I love you.” You whisper. Spencer gathers up all the courage he has and pulls you into one last kiss. His hands stays on the curve of your neck as he pulls you closer to him and as you snake your arms around his arms.

Spencer kisses you with fervour and fear. This was the last he’ll kiss you and if he had to tattoo it in the back of his mind he will. He will remember the distinct taste of your peach lip balm, the way your lips moves against him and how your hand presses hard on his back to pull him closer. Spencer pulls away when a voice in his head screams at him to not let you go. He had to let you go now before he change his mind, screams and beg you to stay with him. His heart breaks a little more as he sees tears flowing down your cheeks.

You pull him into one last hug and it sinks in, his holding you for the last time. He tries to memorize how your hands wrap around his neck and how you perfectly fit between his arms. Your body vibrates as you sob against him.

You pull away from him with tear stained cheeks and barely catching your breathe, you smile through it as you wave at him, “Goodbye Spencer.” You sobbed as you start backing away from him. You see him clench his hand as tears start filling his eyes.

“I can’t wait to meet who you’re going to be. Good luck, Y/N.” Spencer raises his hand to wave at you as the inches between the two of you grow bigger.

“Thank you. I love you.” You bid him goodbye before turning your back on him and running to your gate number. Spencer smiles through his tears as you give your ticket to the airport staff. You look back at Spencer and give him one last smile before boarding the airplane.

“Vienna waits for you, my love.”

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#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x fem!reader #mgg #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer x fem!reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #spencer reid au #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid blurb #criminal minds blurb #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid fanfiction

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palbabor-writes · 4 years

Note

Hellooo queen I hope you had/will have a great day. This is actually my first time requesting something so I’m very sorry if I do something wrong 🥺🥺... can you maybe write some fluff (OR NSFW I DONT MIND... just love him way too much damn) stuff for dabi?? I don't know if you only take requests with exact instructions or if this request is enough... if you need something more precise i will try to come up with something! Thank you very much!!

Hello, love! You did it perfectly & thank you so much for asking! I can be a bit of a lurker on things, so I totally get how much courage it takes to do one of these.

You did amazing & I love, love this question. I love it so much that I went ahead and took an old outline of mine & made it into a full blown fic for you!

Now, in honor of all the craziness swirling around our favorite flame user, Imma post it a little earlier then I’d planned! So, thank you for the ask & I hope to talk to you again ( ＾◡＾)っ ♡

Pairing: Dabi x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 7496

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW 18+ only, mentions of blood and gore, heat play, dick piercings, adult language and freaking Dabi. That alone should warn you.

Thermós θερμός ther·mos adjective m (feminine θερμή, neuter θερμόν); warm, hot, boiling, glowing

It’s sweltering; the fervor of summer sticky, humid, and oppressive. Japan is in the throes of August, and this heatwave is not letting up. Even at night, it’s impossible for Dabi to get comfortable. He’s been lying, half naked, draped across his narrow twin mattress for the last few hours, sweating.

His quirk isn’t helping matters.

He’s been trying to recruit new members. Every day, he sets out, pounding the pavement, sifting through the bits and pieces of trash that he runs into. It’s a pity. If those scrubs weren’t so fucking pathetic, he might not be in this predicament. But they are, and now he’s having to suffer the consequences of his temper.

His phone gleams on his dilapidated side table, a text message chiming across the screen as it flashes a speck of brightness into the darkened room. Groaning, he leans over and snatches it up, his hands slick as he clutches the encased plastic.

It’s Toga.

As a rule, he tries to avoid her. He hates her chatter. It’s always some unending nonsense about those UA kids, about Stain, or about fucking blood. It’s always blood with her. Give her five minutes, and she’ll work it into her conversation somehow, even if it’s just blurting it out, a blush staining her cheeks.

Fucking freak.

[ Blondie: 12:34 am ]

- found smth 4 u. (Y/N) has a place. Keeps it @ like 60 degrees… lol

Well, disgusting as Toga is, she has her uses; he thinks as he reads her text.

He’d asked her, a few days before, if she knew a place where he could crash. Somewhere that had some goddamn air conditioning. The hideout’s unit is on the fritz again, not that it had ever worked all that well.

Hmm, well this is something, at least.

Dabi’s isn’t sure what to think about Toga’s little ‘find’. You were a newer recruit, someone that Compress had brought in.

He hadn’t paid much attention to you. You didn’t stay at the base and were only around if there was a specific mission, or a task, that Shigaraki set for you. He isn’t even sure what your quirk is. You seemed easy-going, neutral, but he doubted you’d extend that easy-going demeanor to him camping out at your place for the A/C.

Chucking his phone back on the side table, Dabi flops to his side and tries to drift off, hoping his exhaustion will let him ignore the suffocating heat he’s drowning in.

Fuck.

He’d done it again. It was hard to resist the urge when these people spouted such vague fucking bullshit at him. No one, not fucking one of them, could live up to his cause. And if they couldn’t meet that standard? Well, they were better off as ash, melting into blackened pools as the asphalt greedily soaked their blood into its cracked depths.

There is a heat advisory today.

He’d heard the news as he scarfed down a quick breakfast at the hideout’s bar. He wouldn’t be out for that long, he reasoned. Besides, maybe today he’d find someone good.

Wishful thinking on his part.

His skin feels oppressive and his staples and piercings are scalding, the metal hissing and steaming as he tries to dampen his quirk. It’s harder to regulate his temperature on hot days. He shouldn’t be out here, he thinks, snarling as he pats out a few rogue flames that catch on his dark jacket. Even lifting his arm to perform that simple task makes him grunt, hissing out a mantra of curses.

Shit, fuck, goddamn it fucking all.

He looks bitterly up at the sun and debates his next move.

He could retreat to the bar, but that doesn’t solve his problem. No, the viscous heat that radiated along those upper floors would just make his skin feel worse. Hell, it might even result in more mottling, his burns stretching farther along his arms and chest. He’s not going back to the bar.

Where the fuck even is he?

He peers down the alley toward the street. It’s not too busy; just after noon, so most of the foot traffic from the morning has died down. He yanks his hood up, ignoring the ache of his legs as he stalks toward the street corner.

Carefully, he pokes out, his eyes tracing over the crosswalk, looking for the street signs. Ah. He’s close to that address, your address, that Toga sent him.

Slipping his hands into his pockets, he saunters along the pavement, careful to keep his head down.

You were out of town.

He’d picked up that tidbit from Compress this morning. The masked man had been lamenting that you might be away for a few days, possibly weeks. Something about being on a fact finding task for that shadowy voice that talked with Shigaraki from his tv.

He didn’t care, still doesn’t. All he knows is that you supposedly keep your place cold, and that’s all the encouragement he needs.

You’ve got a nice apartment.

It’s decorated in pleasing whites, yellows, reds and greens, with clean lines and modern touches. It’s kinda like you, he considers as he shrugs his coat off and breathes in that amazing waft of cold A/C. You’ve been useful to have in the League; efficient and no nonsense about the missions you're given and you can fit in with the outside world. You’d give even Toga a run for her money when it comes to espionage, he’s heard others say about you.

Dabi tosses a distasteful glare at your narrow couch and pads toward your bedroom, shouldering the door open and stepping into the dark sanctuary.

Your bed looks nice. It’s a good size too.

Lifting his boots from his feet and stripping down to his boxers, he presses into your clean sheets; shivering as the chilly air hits his overheated skin, cooling and dampening that oppressive sense of heat. He’s out in seconds, his body relaxing, slackening as he falls into the void of his dreams.

Yeah, now that he’s had this, there’s no way he’s staying at that hideout of the League’s unless he has to.

You’re gone for the better part of a week.

He’s started asking Compress about you. At first, the older man had given him an impassive stare. Since when did Dabi even know your name?

He’s asking because he needs to talk with you about… uh… supplies?

This, apparently, is the correct thing to say, because Compress nods his head sagely and elaborates on your timetable. You’re collecting things for Kurogiri and you’ll be gone for another few days.

Good, Dabi thinks, slinking into your apartment again, lowering the window behind him. He’s careful to leave things as he found them, his entryway into your place included. You don’t need to know about this.

What the fuck would he even say to you?

Hey, uh, it’s fucking hot at the hideout, and since you’ve got a working A/C unit and like 3 fans, he’s been sleeping over at yours. No big deal, right?

Even after you return, he keeps sneaking in.

He’s gotten your schedule memorized, and he’s heedful of the hours you keep. You’re a little more regular than the others in the League. You actually sleep at night; unlike the rest. The others are often out at God knows what hour, combing for recruits and leads, but not you.

So, Dabi shifts into full night owl mode. He crashes at your place in the midmorning, after you leave for the day, trying to ignore the perfume that comes from your sheets.

You’ve got a nice smell.

It’s oddly comforting, and he hates when he accidentally burrows into your pillows; nostrils flared, inhaling that aroma that’s all you. While he’s never talked with you before this, he goes out of his way to ignore you now.

What he’s doing is fucking weird, and lines are blurring. The other week he’d bumped into you coming out of the bar and he’d almost snatched you to him.

You must have just showered, because that fucking scent was radiating off your skin. It’s nothing too, eh, feminine? No, it’s more like… oranges and sandalwood. It’s a heady blend of rich balsamic and citrus, and he can’t get it out of his head.

August has faded into September, and he’s still sleeping over at yours.

He can’t help it. It’s not his fault your bed is so downy and, fuck, cool. It’s like the sheets don’t absorb his warmth. No, they’re always cold and they feel so fucking good against his staples and burned skin.

It’s midmorning, closer to noon, and he’s dozing, his eyes heavy and drooping. He’s exhausted, so bone tired, that he doesn’t hear your door opening. No, he doesn’t even notice you until he hears your voice.

“Um, would you like to tell me why you’re in my bed?”

He’s on his feet in a flash, a slow flicking of blue flames tracing along his fingers. You’re framed in your doorway, eyes wide, stepping away from his aggressive stance.

“Woah, woah,” you begin, lifting your hands in supplication. “Let’s just… take a minute and talk. I’m not-”

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he snaps, his cerulean eyes narrowing, but he dampens his fire, a long curling of smoke framing his face.

“Uh, I think you got that backward there, bud. You’re not supposed to be here, I live here,” you scoff, one hand propping on your hip, head tilted exaggeratedly.

Dabi is about to spit something else out when you stride into your bedroom, tugging your jacket off and sauntering over to a tall dresser. He snaps his mouth closed and watches you. He’s not sure how he’s going to talk his way out of this, and he’s grateful for the reprieve. But, he knows an onslaught of anger or, fuck, preserve him, a lecture is incoming. Worst case, he thinks, observing you from his peripheral as you tug out a long shirt and some shorts, you’ll just kick him out and that will be that.

You glance at him again, your eyes lingering over his exposed chest and legs, and he can’t help the scowl that breaks over his face. He’s not embarrassed, he’s just, well, he’s not sure how to classify that stare. Most people recoil or toss him a glance of pity, their brows wrinkled with worry and distaste. But you? You arched an eyebrow and smiled.

Fucking weirdo.

Pausing in your doorway, you bite your lip into your mouth and carefully speak your next statement, voice smooth. “Look, while I’d rather you, oh, I don’t know, asked me about staying here. I’m not in the mood to argue with you, and I’ve got a long journey ahead of me tonight.” You take a deep inhale and toss him another smile.

“Just… just lay back down and get some rest. I promise I won’t molest you,” you tease, and he snaps his head up at that, his chin jutting in agitation.

You laugh at his sour face and he feels wrong-footed; lost. What the fuck? Who says shit like that? Who is in their right mind is just, oh, no worries man, promise I won’t grab your dick?

What’s wrong with you?

“I’m going to change and then I’m going to go to sleep. You can go, or you can stay, I really don’t care. All I know is that I’m not going to sleep on the couch when I’m in my apartment.” You retort, that grin still lifting your lips as you step away, the wall shielding you from his view.

Dabi remains where he is; standing in your bedroom, clad in his boxers, his hands clenched into fists by his side. Somehow this is worse than you throwing him out.

You return a few minutes later and he can’t get a good look at you. You slink past him and are under your covers in an instant. Not that he’s trying to give you a once over, he snarls to himself, shaking his inky head.

You nestle into the comforter and turn to your side, leaving him plenty of room on the opposite end of the bed. He blinks at you, a deep welling of uncertainty nestling in his stomach.

You’re quiet for a long moment, your eyes closing and shoulders relaxing, acting like there’s not a wanted, deadly villain in your bedroom, paces from your side. Then, you twist, giving him a quick scan, your eyes lingering over his.

“Either lay down or get out, Dabi. I’m not going to be able to sleep with you glaring at me like that. You look like some kinda ghost.”

Your declaration provokes a huffing, agitated reaction out of him. If there’s one thing Dabi hates, it’s being told what to do.

He slings himself beside you, splaying out, his body laying on top of the sheets. You chuckle, your head peeking at him over your shoulder. He ignores you and tries to close his eyes.

It feels strange, resting next to you like this. It’s… intimate, and he’s not sure if he hates or likes the sensation. He chances a glance at you, but you’ve already turned back to your side, your shoulders rising and lowering rhythmically. He shakes his head at your blasé reaction. How can you just, fuck, sleep?

He can’t get comfortable and his skin feels heavy again. It’s not heat this time. No, now something else is making everything feel too close, too warm.

He dampens his thoughts, mind frantically focusing on anything but you. As the sun slips behind the buildings across the street, his eyes lower and he fitfully sleeps, your rich smell filling his senses.

He’d left you in the night; tucking his clothes back on and easing out of your window.

True to your word, you’d relegated yourself to your side of the bed, hardly tossing or turning as you slept. As he paced back to the hideout, he wasn’t sure what he’d gotten himself into. He just hoped you’d keep your mouth shut. He didn’t want the others knowing about this, it felt, well it’s not like him. Abrasive- fucking spewing anger and vitriol? Yeah, that was him. But this? This was too soft, too gentle. He hated it.

But that’s the problem with hate. It’s terribly close to that other emotion. They’re sisters, really. Usually love and hate exist on two sides, but they’re still the same coin, no matter how you toss them.

You don’t act any differently after that night.

You keep coming to the hideout, giving him a vague smile and greeting before continuing your day. He’s acting differently, though. He can’t help but watch you, suddenly fascinated with how you move. He tries his best to shake himself from his musings, but sometimes he can’t help it.

If anything, he grumbles to himself, watching you chatter with Toga, you’re subtly going out of your way to place yourself in front of him. You were never around this much before. Well, maybe you were. He didn’t pay you any mind back then, but now? Now he can’t get enough of you.

He reacts when you laugh, or talk, his head turning, like a sunflower, toward the light you give off. Ugh. His only hopeful reprieve from this, from you, is the changing seasons. The days are getting shorter and that heatwave is finally, finally breaking.

It’s his one comfort, his saving grace.

Yeah, he should have fucking never tossed that wish into the universe.

No, another heatwave passes over the island and it’s the worst one yet. The daily temperatures have been hitting the low 100s and the nights aren’t much better. To make matters worse, the A/C at the hideout has given up the ghost and won’t turn on at all now.

Still, Dabi’s prepared. He’d bought a secondhand electric fan a few weeks ago, and he’s grateful for the tiny slice of paradise that it grants him. It’s not as nice as your apartment, or your bed, but it will do.

He’s laying across his mattress, sweat trickling down his back and shoulders, trying to ignore that ache in his burned skin. The fan is blowing across him and he’s about to crank it up a notch when it gives out an ominous sputter.

Dabi sits up, his eyes flashing. No, no, no, no. There’s no fucking way.

The fan’s blades are slowing, that sweet, cool air dampening, drifting into the low-lying humidity that surrounds him. He yanks the plug from the wall, his staples stinging as he stands. He stomps over to the outlet and plugs the fan back in, turning on his haunches to see if the blades will start that familiar whirl.

There’s fuck all happening.

Cursing, he kicks the shitty thing over and grabs his jacket, storming down the stairs and into the night.

You’re sleeping when he slinks under your window sill, sliding the glass shut and kicking his heavy boots to the floor. It’s that sound that wakes you, and you lift yourself up, your sheets falling from your chest, revealing a bare shoulder and low cut shirt to him. Unabashed by your appearance, you wipe a palm over your eyes, rubbing the sleep away and croaking out a greeting.

“When I said you could sleep over here, I didn’t mean you could barge in at all hours. And through my window? So, that’s why the hinge looks like that.”

Dabi considers you for a moment, his blue eyes gleaming in the moonlight. You tilt your head at him and suck your teeth.

“A, oh, I don’t know, sorry, would be nice?” you scold, that alluring smile lifting your lips. He follows the line of your mouth, his thoughts hazing over, focusing on some other, darker, daydream.

“Hello?” you call, waving your hand beside your face. “Earth to Dabi. What do you want?”

That question slips him out of his stupor and he lifts his eyes back to yours. “The A/C is out. Bought a fan a few weeks ago, but the fucking thing broke and I can’t… it’s hard to regulate my body temperature in this fucking heat. You keep this place like an icebox, so I started crashing here. Wasn’t planning on coming back, but after tonight-”

“Ok, ok,” you laugh, already scooting over and flinging the covers back. “Seeing as you didn’t try any funny business last time, I guess I’ll let it slide. Just, not to be rude, but shut up and let me sleep. I’ve gotta long day tomorrow and as enthralling as this conversation is…”

“Whatever,” Dabi mutters, slinging his damp shirt over his head and pacing over to the side of your bed. You blink up at him and shake your head, that tiny grin lingering. He presses into your familiar sheets, eyes already slipping closed as the fragrance of you pulls at him.

It’s early when he wakes, shuddering out of a nightmare, red flames and crying voices fading into the back of his mind.

Wincing, he raises a hand to his eyes and pulls at his face, relieved that it’s still cool air that meets him. As he rolls to his side, he feels something trace over his unscarred chest. The sensation makes him freeze, his eyes snapping open again, the cerulean searching, whisking over the dim figure beside him.

You’re still sleeping, but you’ve shifted, your body curled, facing him, and one of your hands is reaching toward him. Shit, he thinks, heart pounding in his ears. You’re so close.

He’s never been this close to you.

Your mouth is parted, delicate lips plush and soft in the early morning gloom. He tries to shift away, but your brow creases when he does, so he stills his movements, gritting his teeth and trying to ignore that flush that is building across his nose.

This is stupid. It’s just you. It’s not like the two of you have even done anything. Fuck, you barely talk with one another.

He burrows his head into his pillow and the shift of his body urges you closer to him, your hand opening and pressing to his skin. A sigh slips from your mouth as your fingers splay out, tapping against his warmth, and he nearly startles off the bed.

He looks down at your hand, aghast. He wants to move it off of him; can’t stand that you’re touching him, he tells himself, that you’re this close to him. But he can’t bring himself to move. Your hand is so delicate, so…

Unconscious, you turn from him, your fingers lifting on their own, curling back to you. Dabi almost moans as you slip from him, clamping down on the sudden, primal desire that races through him. He wants to grab you; to drag you back to him.

The hell? What the fuck is wrong with him?

Sucking his teeth, he turns over, facing away from the confusing neediness that’s lapping at his subconscious. He fluffs his pillow aggressively, trying to drown out all the raw emotions that are racing through his mind.

Forget it. Sleep.

When he wakes again, you’re gone.

The sheets where you slept are cold under his fingertips and he sits up, his arms resting on his knees. This whole situation is so fucking weird.

He lets himself ease into consciousness before standing and stretching out the leftover kinks in his muscles; stooping to grab his discarded shirt, pulling the fabric over his head and shaking his dark head against the sunlight. Just as he’s slipping his coat on, he notices the note that’s sitting on one of your bedroom chairs. It’s got his name on it, so he snatches it up, flipping open the folded paper.

“There’s some leftover pizza in the fridge, I won’t have time to eat it. Help yourself. There’s also a spare key on the coffee table. Take it and stop jimmying my window open.”

Scoffing, he crumples the paper up, tossing it over his shoulder as he paces into your kitchen.

It’s a fucking thing now.

He’s rarely at the hideout. Why bother? You don’t seem to care if he sleeps over. Hell, you make space for him. There’s gotta be something else to it; there has to be. What kinda idiot is so fucking accommodating? You act like you’re a fucking hostel or something. Well, a hostel where there’s only one bed.

You even bought another fan. You told him you don’t like to keep the overhead one on in the cooler weather, so he can use this one for his side of the bed.

Yeah, he’s got a goddamn side of the bed. It’s fucking insane.

The other members of the League either haven’t noticed what’s going on between the two of you, or they don’t care. It’s not like either of you talk about your sleeping habits. Fuck, you still never interact with him at the hideout, content to maintain that level of professionalism.

He’s not sure why it bothers him.

One night, the temperature drops into the low 40s and he’s stretched out on your blankets, enjoying the first real cold snap of the fall, when he sees you shivering. It’s not very noticeable, what with the way you’re turned away and bundled, but it makes him tilt his head toward you, watching.

Another pass of his fan has you repeating the quake and, without thinking, he pulls you closer, one long arm wrapping around your shoulder and tugging. Startled, you fight his hold, but he calms your movements with a squeeze, grumbling about your stoic reluctance.

What’s the big deal? It’s not like you haven’t brushed up against him before. Calm down.

You quiet after that and slowly, tentatively, you lean against his bare chest, your cheek cool against his heated skin. He tucks his chin over your head and tries to keep his breathing even. He doesn’t want you to hear, fuck, feel his heartbeat; it’s slamming its way out of his throat and he gulps when your fingers pull him closer.

“How are you so warm?” you ask, your breath floating across his pectorals.

“It’s my stupid quirk,” Dabi mutters, dipping his head down to his pillow, shifting you with him. You nod against his lean muscles and your fingertips trace cool designs into his skin, lingering over his burnt patches and staples. He sighs, unable to resist the low shiver that creeps up his spine.

This is nice; too fucking nice.

He can’t do without your touch now.

Remember that thing about love and hate being sisters? Well, that hate is simmering into something else for Dabi. It’s not love, he doesn’t know you well enough, but it’s certainly not hate anymore.

He likes touching you. You’re smooth against his jagged skin and he enjoys the contrast. He’s slow when he pulls you against him, careful to not snag you against his staples, but you seem to like his heat. You’ve even started wearing less to bed, slipping out of that baggy shirt and into a thin tank top; he’s pleased that he has more of you to caress.

It’s getting harder to keep you out of his head. He can smell your perfume, even if he hasn’t seen you for days, and each time he does see you, even at the hideout, his fingers itch to press against you.

You’d laughed at his sudden, intense, interest. The hell Dabi, are you touch starved or something? You’d teased. What’s up with you? I was worried about you burning down my apartment, not you turning into some kind of cuddle fiend.

He doesn’t care what you say. He knows it’s fucking stupid, fucking dumb, that he’s this desperate. It just feels good. And there’s not much about him that feels good these days, so he’ll take what he can get. Fuck you very much.

There’s a meeting. It’s one of the ones where Shigaraki demands that everyone make their way to the bar.

Boss man has been tense lately, thrumming with some dark energy, so the room is quiet as Kurogiri elaborates on the smaller details of the mission. Your part is minimal, limited to reconnaissance with Toga. It’s boring shit, and Dabi is only half listening to any of it.

Besides, there’s something else that’s snagging his attention.

Dabi is sitting on the couch, his eyes lingering on you. You’re wearing one of his favorite outfits and the color looks good on you. It brings out your eyes. You’re questioning Spinner and Toga about the finer points of your team up. He can’t hear you from here, but that doesn’t matter, he’s still in the best spot to spy you leaning forward, perfect ass on full display.

“She’s gotten better, more adept at working undercover,” Compress’ voice shakes Dabi from his thoughts and he turns to him, a bland frown on his face.

“Who?”

“Please, you know who I’m talking about. You can’t stop looking at her.”

He chortles, his laugh a sharp bark. “You’re fucking joking. Her? Fuck, no. I’m gonna head out, not like the boss has anything for me anyway,” Dabi stands, slipping his hands into his trench coat and pacing to the heavy door, shouldering his way into the night.

He leans against the brick wall, lighting up a cigarette and sighing a thin line of smoke into the chilled air. Fuck, they’re noticing what’s going on. Wait. What is going on? It’s not like the two of you are fucking. Yet, a small voice echoes in the back of his mind, and he smirks at that thought.

Yeah, maybe it’s time to speed things up.

You step out a few minutes later, your eyes searching for him. He flicks his cigarette onto the pavement and wraps his fingers in your coat, tugging you to him. You don’t fight him; don’t make a sound as he pins you against the brick, his body hot against your front.

The two of you watch the other, his cerulean eyes roving over your face. Then he’s lifting your chin, his lips sliding across yours. It’s a strange kiss. Usually, he’s too busy trying to get off to focus on his partner. He rarely kisses anyone, even if he’s hooking up. But this kiss?

Like everything else about you, it’s fucking nice.

You move with him, your body surging from the brick, breasts flattening against his chest, fingers cupping behind his ears; nipping and sucking at him, your teeth digging into his burned lower lip and pulling. You’re encouraging him to touch you next, rubbing yourself on him until his hands fall to your hips. He’s already half hard, and that warm juncture of your thighs isn’t helping matters.

To his shock, he’s having trouble keeping up.

You’re already pulling from him when he dips his tongue into your mouth. He gasps at the emptiness, that chilling vacancy that your touch leaves him panting into. Before he can bemoan your absence, you’re kissing at his neck, lifting on your tiptoes to reach the staples on the side of his face. You lick at him, your wet tongue dragging over his burns. He trembles under your hands and you smile, your laugh bright.

Snarling, Dabi yanks your head back and you meet his hazy gaze, biting your lip; pantomiming a wonton innocence. Immediately, he’s pushing you into the brick, his hands cupping and lingering until you’re whining for him. That’s fucking better, he thinks, his teeth worrying against your pulse.

Just when he’s got you where he wants you, your hand snakes between the two of you, pressing against the bulge of his dick. Dabi can’t help his sharp intake of air, and his head falls to your shoulder as he ruts into your palm. You keep kissing at the side of his face, your lips roving over his ear as you tug at his covered dick. You’re saying something, but he can’t focus when you’re doing that.

“Dabi,” you try again, teeth ensnaring his destroyed earlobe, sucking at the burnt skin. “They’re about to come out.”

He knocks your hand away from his straining, throbbing length and leans away from you. Fuck, you look good.

Your lips are swollen, and your eyes are dazzling. He can’t pull himself away. You smile at his dazed expression and lift a hand to his cheek, your palm cool against his overheated skin.

The door shudders open and the two of you spring apart. A few minutes later Toga is grabbing at your arm and pulling you down the street, away from him.

He’s waiting outside your apartment, another cigarette smoldering to ash under his lips. But he can’t bring himself to go in.

Not without you.

Toga’s kept you busy. It’s been over an hour since that kiss in the alleyway. He’s cooled off since then, but that simmering heat that you elicited from him? That hasn’t dimmed. He’s still half hard against his dark pants and he can’t bring himself to care. Besides, Dabi has a very specific idea about how he’s going to have you lessen that pressure for him.

He’s just about to light another cigarette when he sees you.

You walk into your building, and he starts the long climb up the fire escape. His heart is pounding again. He hasn’t wanted something this badly in ages. He’s been so fucking focused on his cause, on making his plans a reality; he just hasn’t had the time.

But now? Fuck, he wants there to be more hours in the day. He’s hoping the two of you can pick up where you left off. Yeah, he tells himself, scaling the last few steps, it’s just about the sex.

That sounds better than saying what he really wants.

You’re already slipping your oversized sleep shirt over your head when he lifts your window. You pause, watching him curl his way into your space. Once he pulls his legs inside he turns to you, his eyes dark, unfathomable, the blue so deep that you feel you’re drowning in it.

He doesn’t shut the window. Instead, he yanks his clothes off, clattering them against your floor. You smile and a gentle laugh makes its way to him.

“What did I say about coming in through the window?” you chuckle, already lifting your arms for him.

He’s against you in a single breath, his warmth seeping its way into your chilled skin. His lips are rough, pressing and lifting, biting and nipping. He’s working you toward your bed and once your knees hit the edge of your mattress, he’s shoving you down.

You flop against the cold blankets, your legs already spreading for his hips. He’s hot, scaldingly hot, against your hands. Your fingers dip into his hair and you pull him back, earning a low growl and his flashing glare, displeasure written all over his face.

“Slow down,” you scold, your legs wrapping around his hips, grinding against the hardness you find.

“The fuck? You goddamn tease. Fucking saying that, then rubbing your wet pussy all over my dick,” Dabi snarls, snatching your wrists and pinning your hands beside your head.

“How do you know it’s wet?” you ask, batting your eyes at his steeled jaw.

“It fucking better be,” he groans, his teeth sinking into your neck and pressing, hard.

You gasp at the stimulation and arch for him, testing his hold on your wrists. Grunting, he licks a wet line to your pulse, his hands tightening over yours. “Mmm, why don’t you find out?” you ask, leaning into his lips, loving the contrast of his destroyed and perfect skin.

He shifts his grip on you, yanking your arms up, pinning your hands above your head. He lifts one of his own hands away once he’s satisfied he’s got a good hold on you. His warm fingers trace down your side, pausing when he gets to the lacy band of your panties. Teasingly, he pulls fabric away from your skin, and lets it snap against your hip. Dabi tips his nose into the curve of your neck and shoulder, taking a deep drag against you.

You buck your hips, squirming under his weight. “You get lost? My pussy is a little further down.”

He chuckles darkly, his breath making you shiver. You’re just about to wriggle from him when one long finger eases past your panties and presses into your sopping heat. “Oh,” you gasp, your eyes rolling back. It feels like he’s heated his fingertip, and the skin that’s stroking and thrusting into you is warm, too warm.

Dabi leans away from your neck, bracing himself above you with his knees, pulling himself into a hunched position. He’s smirking at your awed expression and his teeth glow in the darkness.

“Like I said doll, you’re already so fucking wet for me. You want more?”

You nod and buck your hips, digging that finger deeper. He groans at your eagerness and you can feel him warming the next digit up, the tip burning against the soft flesh of your inner thighs.

Once it’s in, he starts to v the two, dragging them along your rippling walls, spreading you open, easing you into his hand. Your slick is sliding down your legs and seeping into the sheets. Still, Dabi keeps on, maintaining that steady stretch. It starts to sting and you shift away, but he releases your wrists, free hand moves to your hip, stilling you.

You glance up at him, curious. His eyes are hooded, the blue a velvety sapphire. He looks like he’s holding himself back from something. Almost like… like he’s handling you with more care than he’s ever given anything. It’s a strange thought, but the idea of it makes you reach for him, your fingers running down his discolored skin, lingering over the staples and piercings.

“I’ve gotta stretch you out,” he informs you, his eyes closing behind his trembling eyelids, savoring your gentle caress.

“Hmm, you that big?” you joke, fully expecting him to react, to silence you with a kiss or another well-timed thrust of his fingers. But he surprises you. He opens his eyes and fixes you with a rough stare, his digits continuing that aching pull. You’re throbbing around him, your arousal easing his passage, his extensions.

“I don’t want to… hurt-” he stops, his eyes narrowing. With an inaudible sigh, he slides down your body, only halting once he’s face to face with your sleek cunt. His breath heaves against you and you wrap a leg over his back, holding him close.

Dabi laves his tongue over you, latching onto your pulpy clit and giving it a soft suck. Your hands sink into his hair, curling into the spiky tendrils, urging him to give you more.

He rewards your needy moans with another lick and he flicks his eyes up to yours, watching you over your shaking curves.

“I’m going to add another finger,” he tells you, preparing you for another deep stretch. When he enters you almost pull from him, your hips bowing away at the pricking of pain. Sensing your distress, he keeps his lips around your pulsing clit, distracting you with kisses and low blows of air.

Finally, you can feel yourself loosening. Your feet brace against your bed and you use the leverage to maneuver him deeper. You feel, you feel so…

Dabi, realizing that your cunt is quivering around his intruding digits, shifts closer, his piercings rubbing against your thighs. He’s sloppy now, less controlled. His tongue is circling your clit with furious laps and he lets a canine trace the bud. His fingers are still spreading and he’s found that spongy spot now. He taps against it, teasing you, making you clench and gasp around him.

Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, when it seems like all the sensations are too, too, much; it snaps. The coiling in your core pulls free and you’re moaning, so loudly you’re worried your neighbors will hear. His name is falling from your lips at a rapid rate and you can feel his smirk as he lifts his fingers from your cunt.

Dabi leans away and you shake at the loss of him. He was so warm, so hot against your damp skin and you miss it. He watches you, tucking his fingers into his mouth, lapping the final bits of your release from him.

“Take off your clothes,” he demands when he’s finished, his hands already dropping to his tented boxers, slipping the elastic down his trim waist.

You shift to obey, your hands yanking your shirt, bra and soaked panties off of you. You splay under him, indolently admiring the sight that is revealed to you. Oh, you think, unable to contain your small gasp, he is big.

His cock is long, thick, and curved, and it’s dripping with pre-cum. There’s a crossed set of piercings at the tip of his length and you watch, mesmerized, as a shimmering strand of his arousal catches on the shiny silver, leeching down the smooth length of him. He’s bigger than anything you’ve ever taken, and that thought makes you shiver with anticipation, and a small sliver of worry.

Dabi grins wildly at your flushed face. “Like what you see?”

You nod, and he laughs, fingers snatching your legs, tugging you toward him. You spread for him, so eager and fucking turned on you can’t think straight. His hand lowers to his cock, and he strokes himself as he rechecks your silken cunt, gathering some of the gossamer strands of your arousal on his fingers as he ensures that you’re ready to take him.

“I’m not going to go slow,” he warns you, his eyes lifting from your folds.

Gulping and biting your lip, you nod, a shaking exhale escaping your lungs. He shifts himself nearer and begins to press. He’s right, you think, wincing at the sting of his intrusion. He’d stretched you out, licked you until you were leaking all over the bed, but it hurts.

It takes him a moment to bottom out. Once he does, he groans and gasps above you. “Fuck (Y/N), you’re so damn tight.”

You flop your head against your pillow and let out a long sigh. He’s holding still as you adjust, and, despite his warning, he’s being careful with you. It makes your chest squeeze. After a few more pained breaths, you can feel a low tingling radiating from your core. It’s like an itch. Experimentally, you cant your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist, cautious of the stapled skin across his lower back.

Dabi mutters a soft curse and pulls back, his length sliding out of your drenched pussy. When he glides back in, you feel that same tingling sensation. Distantly, you realize it must be those piercings of his, but you’re too overwhelmed by the sensation to process it fully.

“Hold on,” he groans, his hands bracing beside your head. You lace your arms around his bowed neck, and he starts to pounds into you. It’s a calculated motion, but- ah- he’s taking the extra second between his powerful pulls and thrusts to scrape his pelvis against your pulsating clit, stimulating you, ensuring that dim blaze pleasure within you keeps building. Whimpering, you arch your back, your ankles locking around him, encouraging him to keep going. You feel so good, so full, filled to the brim and practically begging him for more.

Sloppily, his mismatched lips find yours and he nibbles and kisses at you. The sheer heat of him is making you both slick with sweat. You don’t mind the salty, dampened feeling, if anything, it eases his motions.

You’re so wet now that he’s gliding easily into you; that piercing of his heating up, and the rapid fire thrusts he’s giving you create a smoldering inside you; like he’s catching you on fire from the inside out.

His hips stutter and he lifts one hand from the bed, his thumb easily finding your clit. He presses a tight circle across you and you see spots.

“Come on,” he groans, his voice hoarse, strained, “cum for me (Y/N). Fucking cum on my dick.”

That desperation in his tone is all that it takes.

Seconds later, you’re arching and shaking so much that he has to hold you still. He eases into you a final time, his frantic thrusts slowing, spacing out as he enjoys your rippling channel, and the fiery feeling of his own release almost hurtles you over the edge again. You curl against him, panting into his burnt ear, licking at the damaged skin.

Dabi leans heavily against you, one large hand pressing into your lower back, lifting you to him. Once he comes back to himself, he kisses at your shoulder, his warm breath making you shiver. He eases himself out of you and your legs clamp together, holding his cum inside you. It still feels so, so hot, and you’re not ready to let it drip out of you, not yet.

He untangles himself from you and adjusts some of his staples, wincing against the sting of his marred and clean flesh. Realizing what he’s doing, you slip from the bed and pad into your bathroom. You clean yourself off and grab a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, dampening a clean cloth with the solution.

“Here. It’s got some peroxide on it,” you tell him as you reenter the bedroom, tossing the rag his way. He catches it easily, dabbing it over himself, careful to not snag it on any of his loose skin. While he’s busy doing that, you snatch up his discarded white shirt and sling it over your head. He looks at you and scoffs.

“What’s wrong with yours?” he asks, tossing the cloth onto the floor.

“Yours looked better,” you inform him, returning to his side and leaning close. He rolls his eyes at you and you shift into his open lap, straddling his hips. Grinning, you kiss at his neck again, sneaking a few groans from him. Sighing as you give him a particularly hard nip, he bats you off of him, tumbling you down to the sheets.

“Give me a fucking minute,” he complains, shaking his head as you wrap around him, pulling him into your arms. Once he’s settled onto the bed you turn, pressing your back to his chest, relaxing into the familiar hold. He snorts, amused by your sudden change of mind.

Dabi lowers his forehead to the back of your head, a small smile rising along his lips. Your breathing evens out and he listens to the sound, trying to memorize each little detail of you.

Yeah, this is it, he tells himself as he drifts off. The rest is just extra. Oh, it’s nice, to be sure, but this, this right here is what he really wants.

Notes: Soft, soft Dabi. I like him like this ꒰ ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱ ˖°

Tags: @evesmores, @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx

#dabi #toya todoroki #i can put that #like omg #bnha smut #dabi x reader #dabi x y/n #dabi x you #toya x reader #toya x y/n #toya x you #tw: blood #tw: gore #tw: dabi #tw: heat play #answered asks #asks

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simply-zhouye · 3 years

Photo

Zhou Ye: The Wonderful Ideas of Lotte Girls // Esquire Fine photoshoot & interview ~ a really wonderful interview with Yezi!

Read rough translation of interview below: https://mp.weixin.qq.com/s/lY3oBM51ytlua7S8ZRdmlw

The lively character is like jumping candy, and the crisp voice is like summer honeydew. It can be a cute angel or a rebellious girl. Who wouldn't like a beautiful and free girl? We met Zhou Ye at a claw machine shop, and she caught the one she wanted five times!

Zhou Ye didn't laugh when shooting the magazine blockbuster, but she liked to laugh privately.

In the eyes of the people around, she is a simple and lively little girl, born optimistic, loves to joke, and loves to share all the fun and delicious. After catching up with the good-looking drama, she will also be ambitious to everyone, even if she encounters any troubles, she It will be resolved soon. She denied the title of "Girl's Heart"-when she was not working, she liked to lie at home and chase dramas, and science fiction and fantasy were her dishes. She enthusiastically gave an example. There is an American drama called "Stranger Things". It is about a little boy who disappeared in a small town in the United States. Everyone went to find him and found that there was an entrance to another world, exactly the same as this world. , But there is no one in that world. Such a story attracts her even more.

A few days ago, she took a four-day holiday, "very satisfied!" During the holiday, she made appointments with a few good friends for dinner, went to the playground, and watched dramas. If the vacation is longer, she would prefer to go home and stay with her family. Playing with mom and dad, playing with grandpa and grandmother, the family finds a beautiful place to go camping, and if you don’t go out, you can play mahjong with the whole family. She can stay away from looking at her mobile phone for a day.

Asked this girl who is not so girly what she wants, she said, "Now I want to accomplish everything in the moment, and every day will be better than the day before!"

Therefore, Zhou Ye, who hopes to be more progressive, raised his face and chatted with us about serious matters.

Before, people often said to me, "I like your performance of "Youth", but now everyone talks more about "Shanhe Ling". Let’s start the conversation with "The Order of Mountains and Rivers".

Gu Xiang in the play is a girl who is cold on the outside and warm on the inside. She helped Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sisters, but it didn't mean that she trusted them. She just felt that these people were very pitiful. Because Gu Xiang was picked up by her master when she was a child, she felt sorry for them and wanted to protect them.

She is defensive to everyone, and she will not trust anyone easily. In terms of character, Gu Xiang and I are a bit like. Both are more lively. What we don't quite resemble is our life experience and living environment.

When I first finished reading the script of "The Order of Mountains and Rivers", I loved Gu Xiang from the bottom of my heart. Gu Xiang grew up in Guigu where she was killed and beaten everywhere. Although she was lucky enough to meet Wen Kexing, the master who protected her, the rivers and lakes were sinister and Gu Xiang never really relaxed. Therefore, she can only protect herself by fierce methods. She looks acrimonious, slurs and curses, and she has to fight or kill at every turn. She looks very fierce and cruel, but her heart is really innocent and special. Kindness. When encountering people like Cao Weining, Zhang Chengling, and the singing sister Hua, Gu Xiang will rescue them and help them beat the gangsters.

Many audience friends felt that the ending of Gu Xiang and Cao Weining was too miserable when they watched "The Order of Mountains and Rivers". Gu Xiang originally didn't know what the outside world was like. After she came to the world, she met Big Brother Cao, and the two people who loved each other were about to be happy. Unexpectedly, on the day of the wedding, Gu Xiang lost her lover so much that she would fight herself Life. I am also uncomfortable with this ending. It is not easy for them to get to this day. Why can't they live well? If I were to write an ending, it would definitely be two people living together happily forever.

For me, playing Gu Xiang should be more difficult than playing. This is my first time shooting a costume drama, and also my first time shooting a martial arts drama. "Shanhe Ling" really has a lot of martial arts, because it tells the story of the rivers and lakes, so I joined the group some time before I started, and learned some moves from the martial arts masters.

In retrospect, the scene of the wedding was the most memorable. I had been shooting for three days in a row. I had been beating, killing, and hanging off Wia, and I would beat off some hair accessories from my hair. I didn't dare to hang on Wia at first, and the costume was so thick that I could easily trip on my feet. But I can’t take care of this when I shoot. This is Gu Xiang’s most emotional scene. I feel the same for Gu Xiang and can’t help crying. Until the end of my cry, I can’t tell whether my face is tears or saliva. , I hope that through this scene, everyone can feel Gu Xiang’s pain.

For me at this stage, whether it is a role that is more similar to myself or a completely different role, I am willing to give it a try. If the character of a character is very pleasing, I will have a sense of substitution when I read the script, I will like it, and I will really want to play it.

In fact, my interest in acting began after I was in college. When I was a child, I learned piano, and I was not very sensible at that time. I thought it would be fine to play the piano every day after growing up and collect tickets. After being admitted to the Beijing Film Academy, we often watch movies. When the directors see their favorite movies, they will think "I can make such a great movie in the future". I am in the acting department, so I hope I can do it in the future. Acting in a particularly powerful movie may be the influence of the school atmosphere. I still remember that I watched some old movies when I was in school. I really liked "Scent of a Woman" and Marlon Brando. He played "The Godfather" very well.

In the film school, we had a lot of opportunities to meet the director and the crew. We tried again and again, and slowly met scenes that were willing to use our young actors, and started the road to filming. I will definitely read the script several times before filming. In addition to my own role, I have to read the whole story, write a short biography of the character, and talk to everyone at the script reading meeting. For example, when shooting "Ah Cradle", I often consulted sister Haiqing and the director. In the filming of "Youth in Youth", I would also ask the director: The girl I played has such a good family, why does she bully her classmates? The director told me that because her parents had very strict education for her, she was required to be particularly good since she was a child. She was under tremendous pressure and kept suppressing it, so she vented the pressure by bullying her classmates.

When taking the play, I don't worry about people comparing my previous works or achievements, as long as my requirements for myself will not change. My request is to do my best to shape each role. Every time I finish filming a film, I will have a certain evaluation of myself, and I will also look at other people's evaluations of me, as well as the opinions given to me by my predecessors, to integrate these. Every time, I hope I can do better next time.

Up to now, I have been shooting for a few years, and I feel that I am not a talented actor, and I have to be a model worker. However, the sisters who brought me to the management team said that my biggest change and improvement is that I am more independent than before. When I first started filming, I would hide in the room and cry by myself every time I joined the group, especially wanting to go home.

Now I am more comfortable with the life of the crew than before. When I first joined the group, I still felt a little homesick. I hope to finish the filming soon, and become familiar with everyone. After work, I will play with the actors in the same group. When I was resting, I was playing with werewolf killing or something, so happy, I didn't want to kill it. I didn't want to be successful when I was filming "Shanhe Ling", and the same was true when filming "Ah Cradle". As actors, it seems that we can go to different places every time we film. In fact, there is not much time to spend in the local area, but we can eat a lot of local delicacies.

As I said just now, I want to do everything right now, and the current week is the best week.

Do you often dream? Please share a dream that is more imaginative.

Zhou Ye:

I sometimes dream. Once, I dreamed that I received an acceptance letter from an owl, took the Hogwarts Express train to the magic school to learn magical magic, visited Hogsmeade Village, and met so many new friends. .

What is your dream day like? How to spend it?

Zhou Ye:

At this stage, my dream day is to sleep in late, and after waking up, I will lie in bed and watch a drama or hang out with my friends or watch a drama.

How to arrange the dream holiday? Stay at home or go out to play?

Zhou Ye:

Of course, it is best to have two days, so you can stay at home one day and go out to play one day!

What about the journey of your dreams? With whom, where to go, and how to play?

Zhou Ye:

With your family, you can go to the beach or play paragliding.

What is your dream job announcement?

Zhou Ye:

Go to Universal Studios to shoot hahahaha, I really want to go!

What kind of "dream skills" do you want to have?

Zhou Ye:

Teleport!

Which era is the dream era? why?

Zhou Ye:

Now, now is the best time. Grasp the moment.

#zhou ye #hqs:zhouye #photoshoot #esquire fine #magazine photoshoot #gu xiang #word of honor #shan he ling cast #hogwarts

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akakeiiji · 4 years

Note

Headcanons for how they will confess to their best friend that they have feelings for them ? (Iwa, Tobio, Kuroo)

I LITERALLY SAID I WOULDN’T DISAPPEAR AGAIN BUT SIS?? MY SCHOOL LITERALLY BOMBARDED ME WITH SO MUCH WORK THIS WEEK EIJNHERBVER

Anyway, I hope you like this 🥺💖

-`,✎ How Iwaizumi, Kageyama and Kuroo would confess to their best friend

Iwaizumi Hajime

He’s probably the most hesitant to confess out of the three

He loves you so fricking much and he wants nothing more than to tell you because keeping his feelings for you to himself physically hurts

But the thing is he doesn’t want to lose you

He values your friendship so much and he’d rather suffer in silence than risk losing you from his life

But it soon becomes too much because instead of his feelings dissipating overtime like he thought it would, it just grew stronger and stronger

Oikawa was also pretty insistent in him confessing, he would have taken longer to confess if Oikawa hadn’t annoyed him into it

He would probably act really weird before he confesses; he’s strangely silent, easily distracted as he went through his confession speech for the nth time in his head, and has this persistent blush on his cheeks the whole time

Not much is able to get to Iwaizumi like this so it was pretty weird seeing him acting liking that

You’d probably think he was sick or something

He’d have this big plan in his head for how to confess to you, one made by Oikawa most likely he’s the one most invested in this relationship

However, once it comes to actually doing it, Iwaizumi would forget everything his friends practically drilled into his head

You always had such a strong effect on him, his mind practically blanked on the spot when you turned your full attention to him, sending him that large smile that always reduced him to a blubbering mess

That speech he had memorized? Gone. It’s gone. Oikawa’s writing was for naught.

He’d be uncharacteristically panicky and sheepish, his face a persistent shade of red

It would take a while for him to actually get to the point, he’d go on and on about how he didn’t want to lose you as a friend and how he understood if you were upset or something so you’d think he was about to relay bad news to you

“Just spit it out, Hajime!”

“—I…I like you, okay.”

“Wait, what?”

HE’D PRACTICALLY EXPLODE FROM EMBARRASSMENT, HE’D BE EVEN MORE FLUSTERED AFTER ADMITTING IT OUT LOUD

He just automatically assumed that you didn’t feel the same but who wouldn’t fall for Iwaizumi?

If you thought he couldn’t get any more red and flustered, then you’re wrong

When you told him you felt the same way he practically passed out

Basically, Iwa may not look but he is just a soft bby and I would give the world to him if I could

Kageyama Tobio

First of all, he wouldn’t even realize that he liked you

He would be so oblivious of his ridiculously non-platonic feelings for you for such a long time

He hasn’t had many friends in the past, especially not one with a relationship as close as yours before, so he just assumed that what he was feeling was normal around friends

Oh, his heart just skipped a beat when you laughed at something he said? Probably just because he’s happy for making his friend laugh

He’s blushing because you hugged him after he aced a test you two studied for? He’s probably just not used to such affection

He just had a strangely vivid dream about kissing you? Weird dreams are normal, it probably doesn’t mean anything

This would go on for months and it’s so frustrating for everyone around you all because you two are perfect for each other and you both very obviously like one another

bUT YOU’RE BOTH DENSE AF

In the end, one of Kageyama’s teammates would probably have to slap him into reality most likely tsukishima or hinata

And he’d literally have a mind blown moment

He wouldn’t be able to sleep that night because he’d spend the whole time tossing and turning in his bed as he mulled over his feelings for you

He would have no idea what to do, feelings and romance weren’t his strong suit, he’s never confessed to someone before

He’d probably google how to confess to a friend and read all those juvenile articles that don’t really give good advice and he’d just eat them up thinking they were the real deal

However, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to try out these “tips and tricks” because he ends up slipping it out on accident

It would happen after a game, Kageyama would be giddy and high on the adrenaline from the game and from their win

You’d immediately rush over to him, just as happy as the team members and jump into his arms, cheering and telling him about all your favorite plays

And as he watches, literally so love-stricken at the sight of you so happy, it would just come out

And the two of you would just freeze, Kageyama would turn beet red, panicking and pushing you away

He’d try to deny it but the damage was already done—or so he thought

He’d literally think that he just ruined your entire friendship and he’d lose not only his crush but his closest friend but you immediately took him in your arms again telling him that you felt the same way

Kageyama would literally be so overwhelmed with emotions, he’d short circuit right away

Kuroo Tetsurou

THIS H O E

He fell for you right away, he just couldn’t help it

But he just initially thought that his feelings for you were just a short-lived crush, nothing but a little thing he could laugh about later down the line so he didn’t really feel the need to tell you

But instead, your friendship only grew stronger which in turn made his feelings grow as well

His supposed short-lived crush ended up growing into something unprecedentedly uncontrollable and intense that he couldn’t brush it aside anymore

He’d literally start flirting with you at some point, sending you cheesy pick-up lines and compliments every so often

But instead of you getting the hint, you interpreted his flirting as some new way of teasing of his

You would simply laugh, sometimes even flirt back—which would make Kuroo more flustered that he would like to admit—and brush it off

This would go on for so long, it ended up becoming an inside joke between you two and it became normal for your friends to just walk in on you two flirting back and forth playfully

Sometimes you two would even tell others that you were dating or were married

Every single time you flirt back or say stuff like this, and I mean every single time, Kuroo’s heart practically does cartwheels in his chest

Whenever he can’t keep in his emotions, he hides it by reacting dramatically on purpose so that you’d think it was just another bit of his

And for the most part, you did; you never questioned whether or not his words held any truth behind them and always assumed it was just a joke to him

Slowly, as his feelings intensified, his advances would grow bolder as well

He literally outright said that he liked you multiple times, he would say it without a trace of mockery or jest

bUT YOU JUST LAUGHED AND SAID YOU’D START PLANNING THE WEDDING AND WALKED AWAY

You didn’t complain, of course, your crush was practically throwing himself at you but you did begin questioning why he was doing this in the first place

And Kuroo would feel a mixture of warmth and frustration

Warmth because holy crap you’re so cute

And utter frustration because yoU’RE sO dEnSE

“Why are you even doing this, Tetsu? Are you this lonely?”

“I—you—oh my god—”

He’d slap his warm cheeks with his hands, rubbing his eyes as he thought of what to say to properly bring his point across

He’d grab your hands and look you straight in your eyes

“Listen, I am being 100% percent serious right now: I like you, I like you a lot.”

And only then did it click that all those months of flirting, joking confessions of love and other acts of affection were all genuine, not just for you but for him as well

You two would literally be so relieved because you didn’t know how long you could take your arrangement anymore, it was both riveting and painful at the same time

I swear none of your friends were surprised when you two started dating for real, they were probably more relieved than you two were because they didn’t know how much more they could take of watching you two pine dolefully for each other

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alj4890 · 3 years

Note

Hi,if Liam would sing and play guitar to pregnant Riley,what song would it be?Please use the guitar of Liam's mum 😊

😭 WHY DIDN'T PB LET THIS HAPPEN???? Oh goodness. That would have been a scene I would have thrown diamonds at to get. It would have been so sweet! I doubt I can do it justice, but I will try 😭

I'm using the lullaby that was sung in a classic movie from the 1950s, Bundle of Joy. My mom is the one to give me my love for classic cinema and she had this particular movie playing often when I was little. I ended up memorizing this song along with the others in it, LOL. I also sang it to my boys when rocking them to sleep. Poor things. They were stuck with my awful singing voice. No wonder they fell asleep so quickly when they were infants 😂

Lullaby In Blue from Bundle of Joy.

@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305

Masterlist

Sweet Memories

"Liam?" Drake rounded the corner when he heard something he hadn't heard since he was little.

He saw his friend sitting outside, strumming an old guitar.

"Is that your mom's" he asked.

Liam's cheeks heated with color. "It is." He set it aside and stood up.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, he avoided eye contact.

"I didn't know you played guitar." Drake muttered.

He was curious at Liam's reaction to being caught with it.

"I learned how after her death."

Drake's eyebrow lifted. "You did? How come you never told any of us?"

Liam shrugged. "It was a way for me to hold on to her memory." His brow furrowed. "Now that Riley is pregnant, I want to pass that on to our child." He hesitated. "But I've been trying for weeks now to remember the lyrics to a song my mother used to sing to me."

He felt such guilt over this. Each day, he would tell Riley he was going for a walk around Valtoria. He had been using that as a time to practice and hopefully jog his memory.

It was eating him up inside that he couldn't remember the very song his mother would sing to him at night if he had a nightmare or felt unwell.

"Why is it that I can only recall the melody?" He raked his hands through his hair. "I wish Father was here. Perhaps he knew the song."

Drake folded his arms and tried to think back to anyone who might have heard it. "I bet my dad knew it too."

Liam sat down once more and picked up the acoustic guitar. His fingers moved over the wood as he willed his memories to come back to him.

He could see her so clearly. Her blonde hair in a neat bun. The blue dress that perfectly matched her eyes. Her bright smile as she let him strum while she made the chords.

He could almost hear her laughter when he made up silly lyrics to go along with the music she created. Her sweet encouragement that he too had musical talent.

"Do you like my song for frogs?" His six year old self had asked.

"Like it?" Eleanor reached out and gently ruffled his hair. "I adore it, dearest. I've never heard a more perfect ballad for amphibians."

"I'm running out of time." Liam explained. "In a couple of weeks, the baby will be able to hear us." He turned to Drake. "I wanted one of the first sounds that he or she heard be a song from their grandmother."

"Somebody has to remember it." Drake argued. "Maybe Maxwell or Olivia. They spent time with her too."

Liam felt a glimmer of hope. "They are supposed to arrive tomorrow for a visit." He set the guitar back in the guest house he had hidden it in. "I'll find a way to talk to them without Riley knowing."

"She doesn't know?"

"I wanted it to be a surprise for her too." Liam smiled softly. "I told her I played guitar during our date at Ramsford. She's never heard me play before. This can be something special for her and the baby."

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

"I remember that!" Maxwell exclaimed. He hummed the rest of the tune.

"You do?" Liam felt his hope grow. " Can you remember the words?"

"Sure." Maxwell hummed the beginning. "Um...it went...hmm." His brow furrowed. "What were the words?"

Liam practically deflated. If Maxwell couldn't remember a song then all hope was most assuredly lost.

"I remember snippets." Maxwell paced back and forth. "Like, Sandman is commin and he'll be here--"

Liam sat up when those words jogged his memory. "Mighty, mighty soon. And if you don't cry--"

"He'll be dropping by with the great big lollipop moon." Maxwell belted out. "I always loved that part of the song. Who wouldn't want the Sandman to bring them a moon shaped lollipop for going to sleep?"

Liam strummed along, repeating the words Maxwell had remembered. He stilled at not recalling any of the others. "How does it begin? Or for that matter, end?"

Maxwell sat down beside him. "It'll come back to you." He patted Liam's back. "Just keep at it."

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

The next day, Liam took a walk with Olivia.

"I've been digging around some more about Bradshaw and Isabella. Nothing concrete yet, but it never hurts to have something on them." She told him.

Liam wasn't overly concerned at the moment with the monarchs wanting an alliance with Cordonia. "Do you remember my mother's songs she used to sing to us?"

Olivia stilled. "What brought that to mind?"

Liam averted his eyes. "I've been trying to remember a song she would sing to help me sleep. It was some type of lullaby that made me smile. Maxwell remembered part of it, but the beginning lyrics have eluded me."

Olivia began to walk forward again.

He couldn't help but notice how tense she appeared.

"Olivia? Is something wrong?" He jogged to catch up.

He then saw the tears in her eyes.

She took a deep breath. "What difference does it make if you can or can't remember a song?"

He stepped back from the bitterness in her tone. "I wanted to sing it to the baby." He slipped his hands into his pants. "I've been practicing on her guitar and wanted..." He sighed. "I wanted my child to have something precious of my mother's. You remember how much she loved music."

Olivia lowered her eyes. "I do. Queen Eleanor would hum and sing even when walking down the halls."

"I didn't mean to upset you with my question." Liam apologized, regretting the fact he had dragged his friends into this.

"No. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did." She sniffed and squared her shoulders.

Although thoughts of her childhood held a great deal of bitterness, Liam and his mother had been the one bright spot in her lonely existence. She couldn't deny him her help, no matter the heartache those memories contained.

"Now. What song is it?"

Liam led her to the guest house. He strummed the tune and noticed her expression light up in recognition.

Before he could even ask, a clear alto slipped from Olivia's lips as she sang the song.

🎵Hushaby... rockaby. Listen to my lullaby in blue

Bluelululululululu

How I love my pretty baby

Sweet and precious pretty baby

How I love my pretty baby

Honest to goodness I do

See here, Sandman is commin'

And he'll be here

Mighty mighty soon

And if you don't cry, he'll be droppin' by

With a great big lollypop moon🎵

Liam joined in, remembering how the rest was sung with two people. That thought reminded him of the times his mother encouraged his father to join in, their voices blending into a sweet note as they focused on their young child.

🎵Dream dream dream (How I love my pretty baby)

Be an angel

Dream dream dream (Sweet and precious, pretty baby)

Be a darling

I love my pretty baby (How I love my pretty baby)

Honest to goodness I do

Bluelulululululu🎵

"It's called Lullaby in Blue." Olivia told him. "Your mom sang it to me when I first came to live with you." Her eyes became distant as she thought back. "I asked her to teach it to me so that I could sing it to my stuffed dragon when he had trouble sleeping."

Liam reached over and grasped her hand. "Thank you. I know you don't like thinking of the past," he squeezed her fingers, "but being able to share this song means everything to me."

Olivia slowly smiled. "You better practice then. Your child deserves nothing but the best."

She wrote down the lyrics and left him alone to practice.

When he began to sing the words, he could hear his mother's voice singing too.

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

A few week's later...

"How are you feeling, my love?" Liam asked one evening.

Riley rested her head on his shoulder. "I'm fine. I think the baby is not too happy I ate those brownies Hana made, but i am determined to not throw them up."

Liam pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I have a surprise."

"You do?" She sat up with a big smile. "What is it?"

"Wait right here." He left her on the couch to retrieve the guitar.

Her eyebrows raised when he returned with it in hand. "Liam! Is that your mother's?"

He paused before her. "You remembered."

"Of course I do. How could I ever forget our first date?" She patted the spot next to her for him to sit. "You promised me that night that one day you might play for me." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "I didn't know a girl had to get pregnant to get serenaded around here."

Liam chuckled at that. He was touched that she recalled their date so clearly. That was the best night of his entire social season, well other than seeing her again at the Masquerade Ball.

Hearing she loved him during the Coronation Ball was also up there. If only it had ended differently.

He pushed those memories to the side. "I thought it might be time to start sharing with the baby a song my mother used to sing to me."

Riley's smile turned tender. "I think that sounds wonderful."

She watched, fighting back tears, as he positioned himself on the floor so that he could sing directly to her belly. The expression on his face as he began the lullaby was one that touched her heart.

His love and wonder for their unborn child was stamped across his handsome features. Each word he sang was done so with a smile unlike any she had ever seen before.

When he ended the song, he pressed a kiss to her baby bump.

"I hope you liked that." He gently rubbed her tummy. "It was a favorite of mine from my mother. I wish you could have met her. She was the kindest, most gentle woman I have ever met." His hand moved to hold Riley's. "We're lucky though that you have a mother just as wonderful as mine was."

"Liam." Riley gave up on not crying.

He pressed a kiss to her hand before continuing. "I love you and your mother more than anything. I intend on you hearing that every single day I am blessed to have with you." His fingers tangled with Riley's. "That song is a reminder of just how beloved you already are to both of us."

Riley tugged him back on the couch. She kissed him, whispering how much she loved him, how happy he made her.

The two cuddled together and thought of the day coming soon when their family would at last be complete.

#liam x riley #choices the royal heir #King Liam #choices trh #choices the stories you play #choices fan fiction #requests

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evenmoregreener · 3 years

Text

Questionnaire of Laruku from B-PASS magazine (March. 1995)

Another translation of a translation from Russian. This "interview" was translated for Russian l'arc fan-club in 2018. I haven't found any other English translations on the net, so I decided that it will be interesting for you to read something like this. All credits are down below, big thank you to the original translator, what a great woman!

The original Russian text has some typos plus English isn't my first language, that's why text might seem a bit of strange. About special signs: (translator's note) - notes of an original translator; "*" - my own notes; (?) - neither me nor the original translator understood the context. Please, enjoy!

1. Date of birth Hyde: 13th of Friday Tetsu: 3 of October Ken: 28th of November, Sagittarius Sakura: Secret 2. Blood type Н: Color of the blood - red Т: А or 0 К: АВ S: The hot blood of a man runs in my veins 3. Place of birth Н: Jelsarem's Rod Т: Kansai К: Alaska’s native S: Kingdom of Nerima (Nerima is a ward in Tokyo, where Sakura was born - translator's note) 4. Height, weight, shoe size, visual acuity Н: “?” Т: Small, light, 24,5 – 25 cm К: 178 cm, 56 kg, shoe – 25,5 cm S: 5 feet 8 inches, 120 feet, 10 inches, about 1,0 and 1,0 5. Body size Н: As in the previous Т: I don’t know К: I prefer В 85, W 58 H 88 S: “Nice body” 6. Which musical instruments and how many years do you play? Н: I've been playing guitar for 9 years Т: 11 years on bass К: From about high school S: Secret 7. Where did you work? Н: Mister Donats Т: At the record store К: Jewelry store, tutor S: Secret 8. Skills Н: Shaolin martial arts, second dan Т: Calligraphy К: Youth baseball S: Secret 9. Hobby and special abilities (besides music) Н: Bite Т: Radio controlled models К: Tetris S: To make people do something

10. Philosophy of life Н: Do not stick sticks into the rice Т: I sleep today for tomorrow, tomorrow I sleep for today. (a phrase from manga - translator's note) К: Hurry slowly S: Live today 11. Real name Н: Jiji Т: Teppi К: Jakenosuke S: Sakurajima Samuel Tarot

12. Favorite musicians Н: Depeche mode Т: Me К: The The (an English new wave band — translator's note) S: Ishihara Yūjirō (Japanese actor, singer, film producer - translator's note) 13. Favorite celebrity Н: Takeda Tetsuya (Japanese singer and actor - translator's note) Т: Me К: Isshiki Sae (Japanese actress — translator's note) S: Saburo Ishikura (Japanese actor - translator's note) 14. Respected people Н: Yoshitada Hirai * Т: Me К: Professor Ichinose S: Takakura Ken (Japanese actor - translator's note) 15. Favorite films and films that you’ve recently watched Н: The Omen. Recently watched Jurassic Park. Т: Favorite film – The Outsider, recently watched “Cría cuervos” (Spanish film of 1976 - translator's note) К: Perfect World, cried when watched, although usually I don't cry during films S: Jingi Naki Tatakai (Battles Without Honor and Humanity) 16. Favorite books (including manga) and books that you’ve recently read Н: Stephen King. Recently read compilation that’s called Night Souls (?). Pretty interesting. Т: «Harper’s Bazaar», Vogue Italia, recently read Matsumoto Hitoshi’s “Isho”. К: «Kirin», about motorcycles, novels for men. It’s a bit of awkward, but I buy Young Rose which I love to read for a long time. S: I can't list everything. 17. Alcohol and tobacco Н: Both, about 10 years already. Alcohol – a little, tobacco – one piece. ** Т: I don’t smoke. Alcohol – yes, except sake, I drink rarely though. К: I love Kassis, always have it at home, drink 2-3 times a week. I don’t smoke right now. S: Any alcohol, I can drink a lot. Per day I smoke more than two packs (Seven Star) 18. Do you love animals? Do you have any pets? Н: I do, but I have allergy. Т: I do. I had 5 dogs and one cat, now I don’t. К: I love obedient and loving. S: More than pets I love girls. 19. The concert that left the strongest impression Н: GASTUNK in EGG PLANT (legendary club in Osaka of 80’s - translator's note) Т: Shiki-Yakou (the name of tour Dead End of 1985) К: In Aichi Kinrou Kaikan (concert hall in Nagoya — translator's note) S: Radio concert Anikies (Dankon Anikies – fictional band that was made up by ken, sakura and kyo (Die in Cries), when ken and sakura were guests at kyo’s radio program «kyo MIDNIGHT　ROCK　CITY» on 9th of December, 1994 - translator's note) 20. Three most beloved albums Н: Some Great Reward of Depeche Mode, God’s Own Medicine of The Mission, La Vie En Rose of D'erlanger*** Т: Laruku’s new album, Tierra, Dune К: Black Sabath – Heaven & Hell; Cure - Disintegration; Kisugi Takao (Japanese singer and composer - translator's note) - Best collection S: Secret 21. Recently bought CDs and your impressions of them Н: No Т: Second Coming/The Stone Roses К: Suede (Britpop band - translator's note) S: Secret 22. Concert that you visited recently Н: Haven't been on the concerts for about a year, but sometimes before Shibuya live watched Modern Choki Chokies (a Japanese pop band from the early 1990s - translator's note) Т: Echobelly (a British rock band — translator's note) К: kyo-chan’s solo S: Secret 23. TV shows that you often watch and radio shows that you often listen to Н: Doramas and MIDNIGHT ROCK CITY Т: TV – BEAT UK, I don't listen to radio К: Yoru-ni dakarete (dorama of 1994 - translator's note), though it has already ended. I don’t listen to radio, since I don’t have one S: I’m interested neither in TV nor radio 24. Favorite dish, favorite color and flower Н: Japanese cuisine. Monochrome color. Flowers that grow well in an apartment, even if they are not watered Т: Sushi, tillandsia, cacti, I like all of the colors К: Favorite dish – ice cream, caviar, sushi. Favorite flower – orchid. Favorite color – silver S: Anton rib (dish that was mentioned in Kinnikuman - translator's note), sakura, black 25. Musical instruments that you can play and ones that you want to learn to play Н: Guitar, bass, acoustic guitar, would like to learn to play flute. Т: Several guitars and basses К: Guitar, bass, synthesizer. Would like to learn how to play saxophone S: Variety which you can find in stores 26. Thing that you want the most right now Н: Hot blood of some girl. Т: Sharp Zaurus P1-5000 К: Onsen, pool S: “?” 27. How do you spend your weekend? Н: Sleep Т: Vacantly К: Go back and forth S: Stay under the waterfall 28. What do you do when you are all alone at home? Н: Sleep and writing lyrics Т: Play the guitar, listen to music К: Watch TV… S: Drumming Japanese drums 29. A dream that you have seen lately. Н: Back at night souls of dead sheep were hurrying through the window, I was worried where they are going. I told Sakura: when the sheep will come back, let’s go after them, but they didn’t come back. Т: A dream where I somehow ended up eating sushi in America. К: Relocation S: In loincloth and a bandage on the head I wandered in a stormy sea. And that was awesome! 30. Most attractive feature Н: Compact, compact and compact Т: “?” К: Ankles. Strong side: strong legs. Weak side: often catch cold. S: 31. Role in the band. Н: Probably, bringing everybody together Т: President К: Am-group (?) S: Educator of the head of singing monkeys 32. Describe in one word what Laruku is Н: Cloudy sky after heavy rain Т: Rock band К: Rainbow S: Soul of a man 33. What do you expect from the other band members? Н: I’d like everybody to stay as healthy as they are now Т: Perfection К: Rainbow! S: Soul of a man 34. Where do you want to go abroad? Н: Paris Т: To America К: Any countries where I could live. To drive back and forth S: Country on the shore of the Japanese Sea 35. Where have you been? Where have you recently traveled? Н: During the vacation in September traveled to Nagano to visit Osamu's house four years later, I would like to live calmly in the district of Karuizawa station. Т: To Okinawa. It was beautiful. К: Morocco. It was hot. S: In Morocco I saw the waves of the Atlantic Ocean 36. What do you recommend to see in your hometown? Н: On the roof of Nisshou haitsu Т: A lot of yankees. К: The view on the fast stream S: Secret 37. Enjoyable things that you like during tours (except for concerts) Н: Food Т: Except for concerts, nothing (laughs) К: You can overeat S: Meet different locals with the soul of a man 38. What do you definitely do before the concert, what do you pay special attention to? Н: I am in a deep thought Т: I listen to Metallica at full volume К: Going to a toilet S: Warm up and stretch of the muscles 39. What do you pay special attention to before the interview? Н: I find out the topic Т: So as not to be late К: I try to be serious S: Worried about whether I can express and tell about my masculine soul 40. What do you carry with you all the time? Н: Watch and two bracelets because I like them Т: Nothing К: Bracelet, necklace - I feel uncomfortable without them S: Pants 41. Memorable thing Н: The bracelet that I bought when I first came abroad. I really wanted it, but pretended that I am not interested, and bargained. But since there is no set price, I don’t know if it’s cheap or not. Т: No К: Various guitars, they are associated with different memories. S: Secret 42. Three biggest news in the last six months Н: 1. Motoka’s wedding. 2. The house in front of my window was demolished. 3. Because of the house, which has now been built, the lighting has become worse. Т: Promotion trip; creation of an official fan club; award from the director! К: Couldn't go to the sea. Swam in a pool in Morocco. Was in onsen. S: Secret 43. Plans for the end of the previous year and the beginning of the new Н: Composing music and lyrics Т: Car driving and karaoke К: Continue visiting onsen. S: Polish my masculine soul 44. Your personal plans for 1995 Н: Enjoy work Т: Become an artist № 1 К: Necessarily swim in the sea. Master the butterfly S: Gain a soul of a man 45. Music that you listened to this morning or last night Н: Laruku’s new song T: Morning call from the manager K: Maribeth S: Pink Floyd 46. Dish that turns out well when you are cooking Н: Chinese cuisine Т: I can't cook К: Ikuradon S: Sashimi 47. The image of the ideal woman Н: An optimistic and domestic woman Т: No К: Fujiko-chan S: That looks like Shiraishi Hitomi (Japanese actress - translator's note) 48. Favorite sport Н: No Т: No К: No S: Judo 49. If I were born again... Н: I would like to become an astronaut and fly into space Т: I would like to be genius К: I would like to be a dolphin S: I would like to be a woman, in order to live and not talk nevermore about the "soul of a man" 50. Goals in life Н: Enjoy the rest of the years Т: It’s a secret К: Live a long life S: Soul of a man 51. One word for readers of our magazine Н: If you're not careful, I'll bite you! Т: Nice to meet you К: Hello, this is Ken. I'll continue in answer 52 S: Life in a loincloth and headband 52. Free theme Н: Woof Т: Nowadays Laruku are fully different! К: In 1996 I want to perform a lot at concerts. That is why we definitely will meet, so look forward! S: And this year there will be Anikies!

* Marked in credits to HYDE’s “Roentgen” album as an art director and designer. ** Probably he meant one pack. *** Was covered by HYDE in D’ERLANGER TRIBUTE ALBUM ~Stairway to Heaven~.

Translation from Japanese: Liubov Chachanidze aka Diana_ Translation into English by me (The Green Explosion inc.)

Original: https://diary.ru/~l20arc-en-ciel/p216393417_anketa-iz-zhurnala-b-pass-za-mart-1995-goda.htm

#laruku #l'arc #hyde #hideto takarai #l’arc en ciel #ken kitamura #ken #tetsu #tetsuya ogawa #sakura #yasunori sakurazawa #interview #translation #jrock

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themandhoelorian · 4 years

Text

Dincember - December 4: Hot Chocolate

summary: Mando has unique ways of showing his affection for his son, like getting him hyper on too many cups of hot chocolate, but it’s only after a long day of bringing the kid down from his sugar high that you realize Mando has similar ways of showing how much he cares for you.

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x gn!reader

warnings: a caffeine addiction, sleep deprivation, the smallest sexual innuendo, Din being sweeter than hot chocolate, not super well edited ahaha

word count: 3.2k

a/n: asdfghkldf this is so so late but this week has been long and exhausting (no this fic was definitely NOT me projecting), and I haven’t had as much time as I’d like to write :/. I’m not even really sure this makes sense, but that’s kind of how my brain works when it’s exhausted, so hopefully on some level that’s accurate ahaha

***

You never understood the appeal of caf until you joined Mando’s crew.

The first time someone offered you a cup, that one day you showed up to the tiny mechanic shop of your first job with bags under your eyes, complaining about how little sleep you’d gotten the night before, you thought you’d been handed a steaming cup of motor oil by accident instead.

The dark liquid felt like lava on the roof of your mouth, leaving the taste of bitter ash on your tongue as you willed sip after sip down your throat. It did pull you out of the sleep-deprived fog, but it was more of a jolt in the opposite direction than a gentle tug, your body shooting into overdrive and hands shaking so intensely you burned your fingers on your soldering iron more times than you could count that day.

After that, you tried to stay away from caf as much as possible. No matter how little you’d slept the night before, how often you were caught staring blankly at the wall instead of untangling a mess of wires, you always refused when you saw a mug of hellfire coming your way. The acrid taste, the jitters, none of it was worth enduring when you just had to make it to closing before you could go home and sleep away the fatigue.

But now, your full time job is taking care of a child, and every night is a night with too little sleep. You spend your days trying to wrangle a warm, mischievous demon into compliance instead of just manipulating cold scraps of metal, and the kid doesn’t have “closing hours”- not with how violently he reacts to the notion of bedtime- so there’s never a sweet finish line to look forward to at the end of the day.

You thought you’d known exhaustion before, felt it heavy on your shoulders those months you worked overtime to make ends meet, but that was light years away from what you feel now. The black hole of sleep consumes you as soon as you get the chance to lie down, and when you inevitably wake to the sound of cries a few hours later, it feels like the weight of the galaxy is crushing your lungs, making it nearly impossible to crawl back out of bed.

So after just a few weeks on the Crest, after that one day when you accidentally dozed off watching the kid play and woke to find him sticking a finger into the barrel of a blaster (thankfully Mando had the sense not to keep his weapons loaded on the ship or Maker, that could’ve ended badly), you bought a caf maker on the next planet and forced yourself to chug a cup every morning since.

The taste still sucks, no matter how much cream you’ve tried mixing in, but it doesn’t make you jittery like it used to, the caffeine just enough to keep you awake, and now you don’t know how you ever took care of the little womp rat without it, especially on the days when Mando returns from his hunts and the child bursts with energy to welcome his father home.

Even if it’s only been a couple days since Mando left, you’d think he’d been gone for months with the way they act at seeing each other again. The kid’s just downright ecstatic, dropping whatever part he’s playing with as soon as he hears the hiss of the hull opening and babbling excitedly as he runs into his father’s arms. He’ll follow Mando’s every move for at least an hour after he’s returned, and sometimes, you have to literally pry him from the beskar so Mando can retreat to the cockpit and set the course to the next planet.

And then there’s Mando. He’ll look stoic as ever as he takes the child into his arms, but you can feel how eager he is to reunite with his son, his affection all but spilling out the sides of his armored chest. He’ll never admit it, of course, you’re not sure he’d even be able to find the words to say it if he wanted to, but he finds other ways to show the kid how much he missed him, how deeply he cares about his little foundling.

More often than not, those methods include spoiling the child to no end, giving into the kid’s every desire and providing him with a few moments of pure, unrestrained joy. And more often than not, you’re left with the not-so-simple task of dealing with the consequences of giving the child his every wish, easing him down from the euphoric high and re-establishing that he absolutely cannot expect that kind of indulgence with anyone but his father.

Like one time, Mando stayed awake with him all night long, conceding five more minutes every time the kid whined when he was told it was time for bed. Five minutes quickly turned into hours as they watched the bright mosaic of hyperspace go by, the kid so happy to just sit in Mando’s lap while he spoke in the soothing tones of his people’s tongue. You were only able to pull the child from his father’s arms in the early hours of the morning, all three of you only half conscious at that point, and you spent several cycles trying to get the kid (and yourself) back on a normal sleep schedule.

Or like today, when Mando returned this morning while it was still dark outside, and you woke to the smell of cocoa and peppermint what felt like mere minutes after you’d fallen asleep. When you finally pulled yourself from the bunk, you found Mando sitting next to the child as they sipped on steaming liquid, his helmet tilted back just enough for him to bring the mug to his lips.

He made the kid hot chocolate, you realized from the way the child threw back his bowl so quickly he left milky brown splotches on his face. Of course. Mando had made a habit of bringing sweets back for his son after he’d once gotten his hands on a chocolate bar you’d splurged on in the market, nearly bouncing off the walls with glee as he devoured the entire thing in seconds. That was a memorable day for all of you: the kid found his new favorite snack, Mando found another way to indulge the child, and you found out that when the kid has sugar in his system, you need caf more than water to survive the day.

So it’s no surprise that several hours and a couple more servings of hot chocolate later, long after Mando’s gone to the cockpit to fly to the next planet, you’re chasing the tiny ball of energy around the hull, running on nothing but an unhealthy amount of caf mixed with a little bit of spite, worried you might collapse before the sugar-fueled monster falls asleep.

You have half a mind to be mad at Mando for getting the kid so hyped up on the decadent drink and inevitably making your job that much harder, but you can’t get the image of them together this morning out of your head, Mando dabbing the mess from the child’s face as giggles bubbled from his tiny mouth. The memory’s shaded with the golden haze of dawn, like those dreams that feel warm and familiar, and you can feel your heart swell re-imagining that moment of perfect bliss, father and son so content just to be with each other and the sweetness in their cups.

And oh, you know you could never be upset at Mando for indulging the kid, creating those little pockets of warmth in a life filled mostly by cold, dead space, no matter how much more work it makes for you. Not when you know that he savors those moments as much as the child, that the days he’s back with his son are the only times he doesn’t have to be tough and menacing and deadly, the Crest the only place he doesn’t have to armor up his feelings just as much as his body.

You’re willing to reign in the kid, be the tough one on the ship, if it means Mando can show his son the softness that lies beneath the beskar, tuck away the sharp edges when he holds the little green menace in his lap. You’re willing to lose weeks of sleep course-correcting after each indulgence if it means he can let the honey of his love ooze thick and messy before he’s off to the next quarry and has to lock his affection behind iron walls again. You’re even willing to drink all the caf in the galaxy, let cup after cup burn bitter down your throat, if it means he can have a moment of peace sipping hot chocolate with his son at the break of dawn.

You’re more than willing, happy even, to do all that and more for him, especially if it means you can catch glimpses of the man behind the guise of “Mando” in the process, a man whose heart you’ve found yourself wondering more and more about lately, wondering if it might one day beat strong and steady for you the same way it does for the kid.

So no, you’re not mad at Mando, not in the slightest. It’s more that right now you’re worried you might not be physically able to do those things for him, the shorter than usual night of sleep catching up with you faster than you can fight it off with caf. You’re pretty sure it stopped working after your third cup anyway, the additional caffeine just making you dizzy and no more energized, and you don’t know how much longer you can keep up with the child’s pace. You’ve played peekaboo and thrown around his favorite silver ball and even tried to show him how to rewire an old generator (not that you had any luck with that), and he still hasn’t crashed from his sugar high.

You have no idea what else to do to keep the child busy, and Maker, you’re just so kriffing tired right now, so you’ve resorted to leaning against the door of the weapons closet, floating in that hazy space on the brink of consciousness, using what little of your energy remains to make sure he at least won’t get his hands on a blaster again.

You’re not even completely sure what the kid’s doing right now, just know he’s somewhere on the other side of the hull, and you can only hope that Mando doesn’t come down here and find you and the kid like this. The last thing you want to do is make him worry, doubt how much you care about his son’s well being, but it’s like he can feel your exhaustion radiating through the ship because the next thing you know, the heavy echoes of his boots fill the hull as he descends the ladder from the cockpit.

You will yourself to sit up straighter as you hear his footsteps getting louder, locate the child before Mando can, but your body is working on a little bit of a lag, and by the time you actually open your eyes, Mando’s walking past you, the child snoring softly in his arms.

Of course he fell asleep as soon as you took eyes off of him, the little monster.

Mando doesn’t say anything as he tucks the child into his makeshift bed before striding back to the other side of the hull, and some faraway part of your brain tells you to explain yourself or apologize or say kriffing anything at this point, but the inky gravity of sleep is pulling you in deeper with each passing moment, and you can’t be bothered to speak when your eyes are threatening to droop shut again.

They must have at some point because you don’t remember seeing Mando approach you, but somehow he’s in front of you now, holding a mug out in front of your face. Maker, you must’ve drifted off, long enough for him to decide you needed some help staying awake and make you a cup of caf, and as you reach for it instinctively, bringing the cup to your lips in the trained motion, you can’t decide if it’s just as a thoughtful gesture or a thinly veiled warning for you to actually do your job.

You hum as the warm liquid coats your tongue, deliciously silky and slightly sweet, and it’s only when you swallow, the milky substance gliding down your throat, that you realize-

“This isn’t caf,” you mumble, looking up from the mug to meet Mando’s gaze.

“I never said it was.”

You just stare at him wordlessly, trying to figure out why he made you hot chocolate when it’s not going to make you any more functional. You have no idea how long you sit there thinking, too far gone to even understand the concept of time right now, but it must be a while because he breaks the silence first with a sigh.

“Cyar’ika, you have to stop drinking that crap. It’s not good for you.”

“Need it,” you respond, almost too quickly considering how long it took you to answer him before. Apparently the only thing you can understand in this groggy fog is your caf addiction. “Gonna fall asleep if not.”

“You’re about to anyway. Come on, you need to sleep.”

For some reason you giggle at that, unable to stop the laughter rising through your chest. He’s right, of course, but it just seems so damn funny right now that Mando, who has told you he rarely sleeps when he’s away, who you’ve never seen rest for more than an hour at a time, is telling you that you’re the one that needs sleep.

“You sleep even less than me, Mando. You can’t talk,” you accuse.

He jerks his helmet back in something like disbelief, and you can’t stop yourself from giggling again.

“Well I’m not the one falling asleep on the floor right now,” he counters.

“That’s fair,” you admit. You take a few more sips of the hot chocolate, closing your eyes in pleasure as the warmth floods your veins. Maybe it’s just because you’re so used to the sharp bite of caf, but the sugary drink feels so good, like something comforting and familiar though you can’t quite place your finger on where you recognize it from. It’s almost like you’re wrapped up in the thickest blanket or, even better, by strong arms as you’re lulled to sleep, and you’re not sure that’s what you were thinking of, but you realize that’s exactly what you want right now.

And then your stupid, half-conscious brain decides to ask for it in the worst way possible.

“How about this, I’ll sleep if you sleep with me.”

You only catch how kriffing suggestive it sounds as the words come tumbling out of your mouth, but then all at once, you’re utterly aware of how much you’ve been embarrassing yourself. First getting caught falling asleep on the job and then accidentally making a very blunt pass at your boss, and Maker, you’re just a whole ass mess today aren’t you? Suddenly you feel very awake, your eyes going wide as you stumble over your words trying to backtrack as quickly as possible.

“Oh stars, I didn’t mean sleep with me, that’s definitely not what I, well, not that I wouldn’t…no, I just- I do need sleep but so do you, even if you’re not actually falling asleep right now, so I was just gonna say that we should both-”

But then your rambling is cut off by a chuckle coming from the modulator, his voice light and playful in a way you’ve never heard before.

If you weren’t so kriffing worried about what he was thinking about you right now, you might’ve thought it was the sweetest thing you’ve ever heard.

“I know what you meant, cyar’ika,” he says.

Oh, thank Maker, you think, waves of something like relief washing warm over your body. You’re not quite sure how he can understand what it is you want when you can’t even articulate it yourself, but your brain is still too foggy to care, deciding it doesn’t really matter how he knows you so well, just that he does.

Mando eases the mug from your hands, the worn leather of his gloves brushing lightly over your knuckles. You whine in protest as he steals the liquid comfort from your fingers, but it’s quickly replaced by his hands wrapping around yours to help you off the ground.

“I’ll make you more tomorrow,” he assures you, his voice as velvety as the drink he just took from your grasp. “But now, we need to sleep.”

We, not you.

You barely catch the distinction as he leads you to the bunk while his thumb rubs soothing circles on your lower back, but it just leaves you even more confused in your sleepy daze. You didn’t think he was actually going to entertain your suggestion, even if he did take it in the more innocent way, and when you crawl into the bunk and he doesn’t follow, you think maybe you just misheard him.

But as you close your eyes, your exhaustion starting to pull you away from reality again, you hear the clang of metal on metal behind you, and a gentle tap on your calf halts your descent into the stillness of sleep as Mando climbs into the bunk next to you.

It’s only after he shuts the door, when your body is pressed to his so you both fit in the tiny space, that you realize he’s taken his armor off, the first time he’s ever done so in front of you. You can’t see him at all in the darkness of the bunk, you’re not sure you could even open your eyes again at this point anyway, but even in your delirium you can grasp the weight of how vulnerable he’s making himself right now, letting you run your fingers lazily across the tight muscles of his bicep and rest your head against his broad chest.

And once again, you’re overcome by the feeling of something pleasant and vaguely familiar, your heart swelling the same way it did when you first saw Mando and the child this morning, the same warmth in your veins as the first sip of hot chocolate. You couldn’t quite place it before, but for some reason, as you listen to the way his heart beats strong and steady against you, you think you finally recognize it, the way Mando’s been making you feel all day, the reason he knew exactly what you needed before you could even realize it yourself.

It’s just a hazy flash in the moment before the black hole of sleep finally consumes you, an inkling of a breakthrough you may or not remember tomorrow, but you think this feeling, the acrid taste of caf replaced by smooth chocolate on your tongue, a strong body turned soft as it’s molded to yours, has a four letter name you thought you and Mando only saved for the child.

Maybe that’s why you’re learning to use it for each other too.

#dincember #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #din djarin #*drops this and runs away in shame*#ahaha this took so long to write and for what?#asdfghkl don't roast me too bad lmao #emi writes

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kaitycole · 4 years

Text

we meet again

Summary: Simeon promised you that you’d see each other again after you left Devildom, but that was four years ago. What happens when you finally see each other?

Pairing: Simeon x gn!reader

Word Count: 2065

Warnings: Angst to fluff

A/N: Simeon deserved better after the angst piece I wrote with him a while ago. I finally wrote it @angelprotectress

It’s been nearly four years since the exchange program and your time in Devildom ended, leaving behind friends who were more like family. Sure, you have your memories and all the goodbye gifts that you had gotten, but it just wasn’t the same as when all of you were together.

Since you left, you had seen each demon brother twice, they had come up with a rotating schedule that allowed you to see a few each year, something about not being able to all visit at once or often due to some worry of too many demons being in the human realm at any given time. The angels on the other hand, you hadn’t seen at all, apparently Michael wasn’t too keen on allowing angels to the human realm, the Lilith situation still a fresh wound up there.

While you loved seeing the brothers and Solomon when he happened to swing by, you missed the angels a lot, mainly Simeon. You knew that it wasn’t going to be possible, that someone would tell you not to, Lucifer to be exact, but before you had time to weigh out the consequences, you had fallen head over heels for an angel.

* * Things were still overwhelming, to say the least, by the time you learned that there were angels were part of the exchange program. It wasn’t like you had been expecting much, to be honest you weren’t still convinced this wasn’t a dream, but the way the dark haired, blue eyed angel took your breath away was completely unexpected.

From that moment on, the two of you were inseparable, purposely finding reasons to see one another. Your head always found his shoulder whether you were sitting or standing next to each other, one of his arms around you and whenever your hands brushed, your fingers would instantly tangle together. Half way through the exchange program, you were just a blur at House of Lamentation, spending all of your free time in Purgatory Hall and staying most nights in Simeon’s room.

A few of the demon brothers, along with Luke and Solomon, seemed to support the two of you, however Lucifer, Belphie and Diavolo didn’t seem to share that sentiment. And while none of them verbally voiced their disapproval, they didn’t have to because the disappointment filled looks did that for them.

So, when it was time for you to leave Devildom, it was a lot harder than you originally thought it would be. You had been able to hold in most of the tears that had been threatening to fall from your eyes, until you got to Luke, who gave you the warmest smile as he hugged you and by the time Simeon came up to you, you were a mess.

He pulled you into his arms, making a soft shushing sound in your ear as he gently ran his hand up and down your back. When you had calmed down a bit, he promised you that he’d see you again, that he’d wait for you which only made you cry harder and it wasn’t long before Asmo had started crying with you. Right before you left, Simeon handed you a box, telling you not to open it until you got settled back in the human realm and with one last kiss, the two of you were separated.

* * You look down at the mug in your hand, a small smile touching your lips as you read the words that are printed on the bottom of the mug: I love you. It had a companion piece, the other mug said “to the moon & back” which you found rather fitting for your current situation.

In the box Simeon had given you, it had the mug in your hands and one of the matching tea cups from the set you gifted him for his birthday. He wrote in his letter that while he hated dividing the sets, the mix and match sets fit your relationship, two pieces of a set separated. He also instructed a few different times to use either the tea cup or mug, that way you both were using them at the same time. He always thought of unique things like that, something that you instantly loved about him.

Even with the cups and shared times to use them, even with the soothing words of his letters that you now had memorized, even with that little hope that you’d see each other again, it’s still hard to get through each day. You start to wonder just how lonely you looked to your coworkers and friends, your days were strategically planned out. Not to mention that fact that you turned down every date set-up offered you even though you had no way to prove there was someone in your life. But did you have someone? It’d been four years and you’d received nothing from Simeon and every time you asked, the demon brothers told you they had barely seen since him and didn’t have a message from him either.

You place the mug on the counter, the contents had gotten cold the deeper you had gotten lost in thought. You grab your keys and phone, heading out of your apartment, taking your time to walk down the sidewalk. It’s your birthday and some small part of you was hoping that Simeon could at least surprise you just this once. You find yourself wandering into a small café, taking a seat at one of the high-top tables, sighing as you relax your shoulders.

“Is this seat taken?” “No.” Your eyes don’t look up from Simeon’s letter, sure you could recite it by memory, it was comforting to see his handwriting even if the pages were withered and the edges faded.

“That must be from someone special.”

Your head snaps up, the voice sounding a bit too familiar for you to ignore, tears start to blur your eyes as they meet a beautiful pair of blue eyes. Your voice cracks and jaw trembles, “Sim?”

“I told you that we’d see each other again, didn’t I?” He slowly walks around the table and you quickly throw your arms around him, afraid that if you hesitated for a second, he’d disappear.

He wraps his arms around you, placing a hand on the back on your head as you bury your face into the curve of his neck. Neither of you concerned with the public display or the strange looks you were getting from the other patrons. Tears fell down your cheeks when he pulled you back and he gently wiped them away, cupping your cheek with one hand as he finally got a good look at your face, smiling at you.

“Let’s go somewhere to talk, Y/N.”

You sniffle, wiping your face before nodding, quickly grabbing his hand as you pull him from the café. “My apartment isn’t too far from here.”

“That’s a bit presumptuous.” Embarrassment heats up your cheeks and you can see Simeon start to chuckle before you nudge his arm with your shoulder, rolling your eyes at him.

* * “Can you repeat that?”

You look at Simeon, trying to comprehend what he just said to you, but you were struggling. He smiles at you, sitting the mug down on the table before reaching next to him to take your hands in his.

“I’ve spoken to Michael and if he’s agreed to make me human.” He takes a deep breath, “if you’re okay with that.”

A smile twitches on your lips, almost fearful that if you let it form something will take that happiness away. You wonder if it’s selfish to tell him that you’d love the idea, to wrap yourself around him and tell him that you refuse to let him ever leave you again. “Simeon, that’s…are you sure?”

He squeezes your hands, his brilliant smile on his face. “I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t. I love you more than anything, Y/N.”

The warmth that filled you lasted only moments before you started to panic and Simeon immediately asked you what was wrong. “I’m going to need another job! We can’t live here for long, it’s too small. I need to make a list of things to buy,” you go to stand up, lost in the tunnel vision of your own thoughts when Simeon gently grabs your wrist and pulls you back.

“You wound me, Y/N.” He chuckles, “I am a famous writer, you know?”

You freeze, a cooked apologetic smile covers your lips as you let him pull you onto his lap. You bury your face into the crook of his neck, finally letting yourself take in his presence. It’s when his arms pull you even closer to his chest that you relax, the fear that he’ll vanish completely dissipates.

* * The next few weeks were a whirlwind to say the least, but it was completely worth it. You finally used up a few vacation days you had accumulated at work and each day started and ended in Simeon’s loving arms.

For someone who had only been an angel for as long as Simeon had been, he quickly seemed to pick up on the everyday mundaneness that being a human came with. Grocery shopping had been one of your favorite things, the almost horror on his face as you placed instant mashed potatoes and canned tuna in the cart. When he asked why you hadn’t just gotten a bag of potatoes and fresh tuna, he almost fainted when you just smiled and said, “it’s easier.”

After he had the displeasure of tasting the “mashed potatoes” he waited until the next morning to completely redo the kitchen, only having the best and fresh ingredients in it. When you asked who would have time to always cook, he simply told you that he would seeing as to how as an author he could just work from home.

The two of you had developed a seemingly perfect schedule, Simeon did most of his writing in the early morning which correlated well with your work shifts and you made sure to always have meals together. Your life together meshed well, but it still ate away at you just how much Simeon left behind for you.

“Do you miss it?”

“Hmm?” The both of you are in bed, his attention on the book he’s been reading.

“The Celestial Realm. Being an angel. Do you miss it?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, placing his bookmark in between the pages before closing the book and turning to you. “Sometimes, sure,” he cups your cheek, turning your face to look at him, “but I’d pick being with you over being an angel every time.”

* * “Sim?”

There’s brief worry as you roll over, your hand reaching out to the empty side of the bed, feeling the barely warm sheet. You shoot up, eyes widened in panic as you frantically look around the room, a hand touching your forehead to wonder if maybe these last few weeks had all been a fever dream. Afraid that the previous night’s conversation had caused Simeon to rethink his decision to leave the life of an angel and being just an average human.

“Simeon!”

“Yes?”

You quickly look towards the doorway where you see a smiling Simeon, carefully carrying your coffee mug along with the matching one he’s had the last four years. Relief fills your lungs as your breathing finally levels and it takes all you can not to pounce him right then. To wrap your arms around him and just force him to stay in bed with you all day.

He sits your mug on your end table before walking to the other side of the bed, placing his mug on that end table. He climbs back into bed, pulling you back towards him, planting a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“I thought you left.” You sink into his touch, once again letting his presence dissolve any tension you felt. Tears prick your eyes, the last time you left Simeon had been extremely had for you, but you didn’t know what life without him would be like. Now that you did, now that you had lived four years without him, having him in front of you made you realize that life without him a second time would be almost impossible.

“I’m never leaving you again, I promise.”

obey me masterlist

#shall we date obey me #swd obey me #obey me #swd simeon #obey me simeon #om simeon #simeon fluff #simeon x reader #obey me reader insert #om reader insert #Simeon reader insert #om simeon x reader #obey me fluff #om fluff

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safertokiss · 4 years

Text

There’s No One Else

A/N: Heyooo! I loved this request so of course I had to write something for it. It’s my first MGG fic, but it was super fun to write and I plan to do more fics for his other roles. Thanks for the support and all the kind words!<3 P.S. I decided to try out 2nd person in this one.

Request: “Can you do an angst/smut with Matthew but it's the set of criminal minds and they are shooting a scene and reader likes Matthew but she is keeping it a secret? sorry if that didn't make any sense. I love your writing!!” ( @victomizedbyreginageorge )

Pairing: MATTHEW GRAY GUBLERx FEM! READER

Category: SMUT, slight angst, and of course fluff

Word Count: 5.2k

ENJOY!:)

~~~

MASTERLIST

~~~

Ever since you were a child, you knew that you were destined to be on the set of a production studio, surrounded by the biggest stars the business had to offer. Granted, you had always assumed you’d be the one in front of the camera rather than behind, but I guess beggars can’t be choosers in this world.

It’s not that you disliked being Khalia Dark’s assistant. She was a world renown celebrity, loved by all who were graced with her presence, from afar that is. Anyone who had the “honor” to get up close and personal with her, yourself included, knew she wasn’t the sweetest of the bunch. If you were to use your own words, she was a mythic bitch. Adored by millions, envied by more, which was pretty much the case for all of the A-listers out here anyway. Although you could do without the woman being in your vicinity, you didn’t mind being her servant most of the time.

More often than not you were certain she forgot about your existence all together, which usually gave you a chance to breathe for a bit. While your job brought about many positives for yourself, for example the extensive knowledge of posh coffees that you would have memorized for life, the highlight of the endeavor was without a doubt the exclusive access to the extravagant movie and TV sets that the queen bee happened to be appearing in each given week. Today, much to your excitement, was one of those days. Usually movies were more her forte so it was always a nice, refreshing change when she booked a role for the small screen.

Her newest conquest in the industry just happened to be one of your favorite shows to have ever aired, Criminal Minds. Of course you were trying to remain professional, but it became increasingly difficult the closer you got to the studio lot’s entrance. The child in you was screaming with joy at the prospect of being there, surrounded by some of your favorite actors and actresses in the industry. You couldn’t even consider the possibility that you would get to meet Matthew Gray Gubler, the object of your affections for as long as you had been watching the show. That simply was a no go. You were positive that if at any point in time he was in your vicinity, you would simply lose consciousness, and that wouldn’t exactly be the best first impression. The further you walked onto the set, the more amazed you were. You were so familiar with it after years of watching, it just felt like a second home. After breaking out of your stupor, you quickly spun around to try and locate your boss, immediately colliding with whatever was in front of you, letting out a small “oomf”. Well. Whoever.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I wasn’t paying atten-.”

You immediately froze mid-sentence when your eyes caught up with your actions. Fuck. This is not happening. It was him. Standing less than a foot away from you was the one and only Mr. Matthew Gray Gubler, live and in the flesh. Fucking hell.

“Hey it’s no problem, I promise. Don’t worry about it. I’m not exactly the most coordinated person on the planet either, trust me”, he said, chuckling lightly. Running a hand through his unkempt curls, he momentarily let his eyes roam your frame before seemingly snapping out of it, clearing his throat and extending one of his strong looking hands towards you.

“I’m Matthew by the way.”

You, however, were still frozen in place. Realizing how stupid you looked just standing there, openly ogling the man in front of you, you quickly met his hand, a nervous smile adorning your face. His hands were so fucking soft.

Chuckling once again, he seemed to be waiting for something.

“And you are?”

Oh shit. You hadn’t even introduced yourself yet! So much for first impressions you thought.

“O-oh right! Sorry. I'm Y/N. Ms. Dark’s assistant”, you stuttered out, entranced by the specimen in front of you. “Wow, that’s a beautiful name. Well I guess it’s fitting. A beautiful name for a beautiful girl.”

Wait a second. Had you heard those words correctly. THE Matthew Gray Gubler just called you beautiful? You must’ve been dreaming, there was simply no other explanation. But when you glanced at him he was once again trailing his eyes all over you. Holy shit. You thought you were going to implode on the spot.

“Th-thank you”, you muttered shyly, feeling the blush spread across your features faster than a wildfire in a dry forest. After your weak excuse of an answer left your lips, the two of you just continued to stare at each other for what felt like hours. Eventually you were broken out of your trance by the director calling all of the actors to their places across the lot.

“I-um-I gotta go do a scene, but it was a pleasure to meet you Y/N. I hope I get to see more of you around here.” With a quick wink in my direction, he was off in the direction of the other actors swarming to the set from their trailers. For the third time in the last five minutes you were frozen to the spot in which you stood on the pavement. What in the actual fuck just happened? He called you beautiful. He wants to see more of you. HE WINKED AT YOU. This time you felt like you were truly about to lose consciousness so you booked it to the bathroom to calm yourself. After splashing some water on your face, you felt your body temperature returning to a somewhat normal degree and decided you should probably go to the set in case the Queen of Hearts needed anything from you.

When you approached the scene that was being filmed, you were able to deduct fairly quickly what the plot revolved around. Apparently Khalia had been hired as the episode’s damsel in distress victim, typical. She was definitely the type to rely on others for pretty much anything. That wasn’t what was catching your eye though. Even from where you were standing you could clearly see her making eyes at Matthew. I guess you couldn’t blame her, he was gorgeous, but it still made you feel so insecure. It really just served as a reminder that people like him would never go after people like you. They want the ones who count. They want Ms. Khalia Dark. In what world would someone like him want a nobody like Y/N Y/L/N? There wasn’t one that came to mind. And while this revelation was pretty damn heartbreaking, you couldn’t say you were shocked by the cold, hard truth.

Feeling like you had lost a war that hadn’t ever really even begun, you turned back to look at Matthew, deciding to make the most of however short the time was that you’d be here. However, he was nowhere to be seen. You quickly realized that while you had been distracted, the scene had switched to something else, one where Matthew appeared to be absent.

“Hey again!”

You literally jumped off the ground and let out a little yelp at the noise, you were so startled.

“Oops, I’m sorry! Didn’t mean to scare you, sweetheart,” he got out between adorable giggles. Damn, this man was gonna be the death of you. Literally. If he scared you like that again, you might actually have a heart attack.

“Jesus Matthew! A little warning next time!” You couldn’t help but join in his giggling after a few seconds. Returning his gesture just made the two of you laugh even harder until both of your chests hurt like hell. His laugh was angelic. Perfect. Just like him. For some reason, after you guys had calmed down a bit, you noticed him once again looking you up and down, admiring your body. You even swore you saw him lick his lips. You must be imagining things. Weird. Very weird. Bringing his wandering eyes back to yours, a goofy grin was plastered across his face. You hadn’t even realized you were biting your lip until he reached towards you, dislodging your teeth from the soft skin. “Don’t do that,” he said with a much more serious expression adorning his features. Before you really had the chance to decipher what had just happened, a loud voice cut through the air directed towards you both, causing you to put a bit of space between the two of you. You were able to easily recognize the sultry voice as Shemar’s, turning towards him, a smirk on his face.

“What’s going on that’s so funny over here,” he questioned before his attention shifted to focus solely on you. “My, my. And what’s your name sugar?” You were starstruck for what felt like the thousandth time that day, standing there with your mouth awkwardly hanging open.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. I work for Kahlia, her assistant actually. Nice to meet you”, you answered brightly, a polite smile gracing your lips.

“Trust me, the pleasure is all mine sweetness”, he concluded with a wink. While the action was endearing, it had nowhere near the same effect on you as Matthew’s did. You had always adored Morgan on the show, but you didn’t really know Shemar well enough to have any serious opinions about the dude. Matthew, however, you knew everything there was to be known, from his haunted treehouse to his love of Halloween. You weren’t proud of your obsession, but you couldn’t deny the unbelievably strong attraction you had for the man to your left. Regardless, the interaction caused a blush to spread, though this time it was caused more by being flustered rather than speechless.

You were about to say something else to try and salvage some of the pride you had just lost, but you were beaten to the punch by Romeo himself.

“Nothing’s happening over here actually, Shemar. I was having a private conversation with Y/N and I’d appreciate it if you let us get back to it. Thank you.” Matthew’s voice had picked up an edge and his eyes were dark. Like really dark. Although the situation was super uncomfortable and kind of unsettling, considering how feral he looked, you couldn’t help to think about how HOT it was. How hot he was.

“Woah, sorry kid. I didn’t mean to interrupt, just thought I’d introduce myself.”

Seeming to notice his mistakes, Matthew’s eyes quickly returned to their normal color and he stuttered out an apology, with slightly labored breaths.

“No, no I’m sorry man. I didn’t mean to snap like that, just been kind of on edge today”, he said, darting his eyes towards you quickly before redirecting his attention and clearing his throat.

“It’s all good Pretty Ricky, I get like that sometimes too. I’ll catch you guys later. It was nice to meet you Y/N”, he spoke before turning and retreating in the direction of the cast trailers. Shifting your focus back to Matthew, you could tell he was still a bit tense. You gently placed your hand on his shoulder to grab his attention, quietly asking if he was ok.

“Hmm what? Oh, um yeah. Yup. I’m-I’m good. All good. Like I said just a little on edge today. I haven’t had enough coffee”, he hastily responded. Before you could push further, the silence was broken by a shrill voice you were too familiar with, Khalia, unfortunately calling for your assistance at one of the most inopportune times. You turned back to him and gave a sad smile.

“See you around,” you asked, with just a little too much excitement laced in your voice.

“Y-yeah. Of course!” He seemed to have perked up a bit and gave you a wide grin. With a small wave, you were off to do whatever in God’s name the queen wanted from you now.

~~~

The week you were on set was surprisingly going by pretty damn quickly.

As much as you were anxiously awaiting the end so you could be free from Khalia for a bit of time, you couldn’t help but lament the fact that you would have to leave what felt like your second home. You would have to leave Matthew. That’s what hurt most of all. The two of you had become quite close in the short time you had been on set. Well, maybe not close per say, but comfortable? Sure. You guys were comfortable with each other, maybe a little too much on your end. Since that moment with Shemar and his outburst, the tenseness never seemed to dissipate completely. The two of you had shared some quick glances while he was filming a scene or while you were navigating the complex maze that was this sound stage. Whenever the two of you were near each other, he always appeared to go out of his way to get some kind of contact with you, whether it was his shoulder rubbing against yours or his fingers brushing yours as he passed by you. You, still in the mindset that someone as amazing and talented as him would never want anything to do you with you, didn’t really think much of his actions, simply playing them off as accidents and coincidences.

Although you caught him staring at you on more than one occasion during your time there, you definitely spent the majority of your time ogling the fine specimen. You didn’t understand how a person could be so perfect. Seemingly no flaws. Sure, you had known pretty much every fun fact about the man when you had arrived on set a couple days ago, but now that you had spent some time with him, you were even more enamored. Matthew was an enigma and you wanted him. So fucking bad. Unfortunately, so did basically every other girl on the planet. You really shouldn’t be wasting so much time thinking about him, but at this point you were just in too deep. Watching him do his thing on the sound stage was like watching your own personal exhibition, so much talent pouring out of him he shouldn’t have even been allowed to do what he does. The world would certainly be a lot darker without his geniusness though so you supposed it was ok. As the scene you had been watching came to a close, you decided you really wanted to talk to Matthew again, missing the sound of his velvety voice as he focused on you and only you during the few conversations you’d gotten to have so far. Just as you were about to reach him, though, Khalia appeared out of nowhere directly in front of him with the same look in her eyes she had given him your first day on set. Hunger. You didn’t really know what to do now so you just kind of stood there watching the interaction. The conversation was just out of range, but you could tell she had said something that had made them both laugh. You also watched her place her hands on him in a very flirty way. And much to your dismay, he didn’t seem to be that bothered by it.

You knew that you had absolutely no right to be jealous of her advances, seeing there was nothing between the two of you, but you couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. You had known all along that he didn’t have those kinds of feelings for you, but the cold, hard truth being presented on a silver platter right in your face sucked. A whole hell of a lot. Deciding to leave the two of them to enjoy their moment, you turned and made your way to the snack table on the opposite side of the room. As you got closer, you noticed Shemar lingering around it, seemingly snacking on something among the array of treats presented on the table.

“Hey. Nice to see you again”, you said with a small smile, alerting him of your presence.

You had gotten a bit closer to him over the last few days, getting to know more about him, rather than just his character. He was a really nice guy. Very charming, much like his TV counterpart.

“Y/N! Hey! How are you today?”

“I’m ok. Not one of the best, but hey I’m alive I guess”, you said with a sad smile. Worry quickly spreading across his face, he pulled you into a hug, gently caressing your back.

“Hey don’t say that babydoll. It might not be the best of days, but everyday is worth living in my eyes. We’re all so lucky to be given the chance to be here so why not say fuck it and make everyday a party.” You pulled away from him chuckling at his words, feeling slightly better than you had before. You were grateful for Shemar helping you out when you needed a mood boost.

“Thanks Shemar. You sure know how to make a girl feel better.”

“Anytime baby girl”, he said with a wink, making you giggle again at his silly nicknames and behavior towards you. A little bit more at ease, you let your eyes survey the room real quick, eventually landing on Matthew. A very angry and annoyed looking Matthew. He was staring directly at the two of you, his hands balled into fists at his sides, his breathing heavy, his eyes as dark as could be. Less than a minute later, he turned around and stormed off in the direction of what you assumed was his trailer. Quickly focusing on Shemar again, you excused yourself and then immediately ran off in the direction he had headed just moments before.

You were able to locate the trailer simply labeled “MGG” fairly quickly and you cautiously approached the steps leading up to the entrance. Would he even want to see you? Why were you special enough to even be this close to his trailer? Before you could second guess yourself anymore, you speedily climbed the steps and knocked on the door, an action based solely on the fact he was without a doubt upset about something and apparently it was your fault to some degree.

You heard some rustling behind the door before his voice rang out.

“Who is it?”

Shit. He sounded really upset. Pushing aside the anxiety bubbling in your chest, you decided that you were curious more than anything and wanted to know what you had done to get his panties in such a twist.

“I-It’s Y/N.”

Immediately the door swung open, making you jump slightly. Without saying a word, he grabbed your arm and dragged you over the threshold, handling you like a rag-doll. Once you were inside he released your arm and began pacing around the trailer, breathing pretty heavily. Maybe it was a mistake coming here. You thought you should probably go and leave him alone for a bit so he could cool off.

“I-I shouldn’t have come here. I’ll leave you be”, you sputtered out, quickly making your way towards the exit. However, before you could even reach the door, his deep voice echoed through the trailer.

“Why did you let him touch you like that?”

You froze mid-step, unsure of how to respond. “Huh?” Wow, nice going Y/N. Really scraped the dictionaries for that one.

“Shemar. Why did you let him put his hands on you and touch you like that?” As he spoke his question, he slowly moved towards you, like a predator eyeing its prey. What was he talking about? Why did he care that you and Shemar had shared a brief hug? And most perplexing of all, why in the hell was he looking at you with such fire in his eyes.

“I-I don’t know what you mean Matthew.”

After his name fell from your lips, you saw his mouth twitch as he moved to close the gap between the two of you, leaving just enough space that your breaths intermingled, but no actual physical contact was occuring.

“You’re mine, Y/N. You. Are. Mine.” What did he just say? Were you imagining this whole situation in some sick dream of yours? Your brain was struggling to catch up.

“What are you even talki-.”

Before you could finish your sentence, Matthew had surged forward, clashing his mouth against yours, hungrily devouring your lips like they were his favorite meal. You moaned at the contact, letting the shock envelope your entire body. He was ravenous, tongue pressing against your lips, begging for entry. Finally processing what the hell was happening, your mouth quickly opened and welcomed his needy tongue, feeling it tangle with yours as he released the most delicious moan you had ever heard in all the years you had been alive. His hands moved frantically, hastily ripping at the clothes covering your body, desperate to feel any part of you that he could.

You couldn’t even comprehend how this was happening. Matthew wanted you? Not only did he want you, but he was acting on it too. Fuck. He had said you were his. Did he really mean that?

Breaking away from your lips to pull your blouse over your head, you could’ve sworn you heard a growl escape his throat as his eyes hungrily drank in your appearance, left only in your bra and panties. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous. How are you so fucking hot?” Holy shit. The pure lust that dripped in his words made your legs feel like Jell-O, barely keeping it together as he shed his own shirt and began unbuckling his belt. Apparently that was what caused the wire in your brain to snap, your body surging forward to reconnect your lips and rake your nails down his chest.

“Please Matthew”, you whined, not even entirely sure what you wanted him to do. You just needed more.

Groaning at the desperation evident in your voice, he let his hand drift down your body, toying with the waistband of your panties. “Please what? What do you want from me, sweetheart?” His words made you whimper, grasping his hand to try and maneuver it underneath the damp fabric covering the place you needed him most.

“Uh uh uh. I want you to use your words princess. You can do that for me can’t you?”

Nodding your head fervently, you pushed aside any embarrassment you felt and answered almost immediately as the words left his mouth. “I want you to touch me! Please Matthew, I’m begging you!” As soon as you finished your desperate plea, his nimble fingers had ripped your panties down your legs and he was guiding you towards the couch conveniently located nearby. The two of you stumbled onto the cushions, Matthew hovering over you pinning you down, his large erection pressing into your thigh through his pants. You choked on a breath as one of his long, narrow fingers entered you swiftly, pumping in and out of you at a brutal pace, soon followed by two more. You were a whimpering mess as Matthew had his way with you, perfectly curling his fingers to hit your special spot over and over again. You needed him inside of you now or you were gonna explode.

“You’re so wet sweetheart. This all for me”, he questioned cockily, savoring the sounds pouring from your lips, cherishing the way your body writhed underneath his.

“Yes Matthew! It’s all for you. Only you”, your words were accompanied by a long, drawn out moan.

“Good girl”, he growled as his fingers picked up their pace, pushing you dangerously close to the edge. Matthew must have picked up on the fact based on the way your muscles were clenching around his digits and the way your breath was becoming more and more labored.

“That’s it, baby. Come for me, little girl. Come all over my fingers.” His graphic words made your eyes roll back in your head as you felt your orgasm crash through your body, Matthew continuing his ministrations throughout the entirety of it. As you came down from your high and opened your eyes, you were met with the beautiful vision of Matthew sucking your juices off of himself, staring intently at you with lust-filled eyes. “Mmmm, so fucking sweet baby”, he moaned as he licked the last bit away. Realizing you simply couldn’t wait any longer, you grabbed onto his forearm, pulling him to you as close as physically possible.

“Matthew I need you inside of me right now. Please. Please, I need you.” You felt like you were on the verge of crying, you were so damn desperate for him. You didn’t miss the way his eyes instantly darkened even more after hearing you beg him to fuck you so viscerally.

“Baby, I really want to feel you bouncing on my cock. Can you do that? Can you ride me like a good girl, sweetheart?”

Not even bothering to answer his questioning, you mustered up all of your strength to push him up and off of you, allowing yourself to straddle him on one of the cushions. You made quick work unzipping his pants and signalling for him to lift up his hips, allowing you to hastily pull down both his slacks and boxers in one go. God, you were so fucking horny and needy for the man in front of you, you felt like you were going insane. Actually, scratch that. You were already long gone. Finally having removed the last barrier between the two of you, his strong hands grabbed your hips and positioned you over his throbbing cock, slowly letting you lower yourself down. Both of you released matching groans at the overwhelming feeling.

“Fuck, princess. You feel so fucking amazing”, he moaned before gently grasping your hips, encouraging you to start moving. You couldn’t control the string of whimpers that escaped your mouth as you started circling your hips, gradually picking up your pace. It felt so fucking good, incomparible to anything you had ever felt before. As your speed increased and he began thrusting upwards to meet you, his hands reached behind you, finding the clasp of your bra, practically ripping the garment off of your body. Without any barrier blocking your breasts, he sat back and ogled you as they bounced in sync with your rapid movements, eventually needing more and grabbing the pillowy flesh with his wandering hands. The stimulation only made you move faster, desperate for the addicting friction that you could feel radiating throughout your whole being. You felt Matthew’s grip on your hips tighten exponentially, in order to get your undivided attention.

“I bet you thought you looked real cute flirting with him like that, didn’t you princess”, he sputtered, his voice strained and hoarse. The sound of it made your insides quiver even more.

“I-I wasn’t f-flirting. I w-was just being n-nice”, you stammered, feeling your climax slowly building more and more with each thrust. He growled and immediately picked up the pace, speaking his next words clearly for you to understand. “That’s bullshit baby and you know it. Do you really think he could fuck you like this, sweetheart? Do you think his cock could fill you up this perfectly? Make you feel the way I do?”

“N-Noooo! No, of course not. I only want you!” You were a moaning, whimpering mess as you gripped his shoulders trying to maintain your balance, his thrusts launching you into a whole other universe. “What was that, little girl? I couldn’t really hear you.”

“Fuck! Matthew! I only want you! There’s no one else!” You couldn’t control yourself any longer. You lost the ability to move as he wrapped his arms around your waist, slamming into you so fucking hard you swore you could see stars.

“There better fucking not be, little girl. You are mine, sweetheart. All fucking mine. Mine!” His words make the chord in your stomach snap, your climax overtaking your body dangerously fast. “MATTHEW!” Your vision was spotty, muscles clenched incredibly tight, when you felt his cock start to twitch violently inside of you.

“Fuck! Y/N! Oh my god!” As soon as the words left his mouth, you felt his cum fill you up completely, warmth radiating throughout your body as his dick pulsated inside of you.

You collapsed against his sweaty frame, holding on for dear life. “Matthew, Matthew, Matthew”, you muttered as you fought to regulate your breathing. Both of you were shaking, thanks to the world-shattering orgasams you had just experienced, his hands gently rubbing your back, soothing you. “Shhhhhh, breathe little girl”, he whispered so warmly it made butterflies bloom in your stomach, a stark contrast to the way he was speaking moments ago.

Pulling yourself upright, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his. After a few seconds had passed, a huge grin slowly formed on his beautiful face, letting out a light giggle. “Hey.”

Feeling a smile form on your own face from his silliness, you couldn’t help but fall for him even more. “Hi”, you shyly responded, reaching up to poke the dimple that was visible on his face, giggling when he playfully stuck his tongue out, trying to reach your finger with it. Completely absorbed in the moment, you had forgotten that he was still inside of you and you were probably hurting him, not that he was gonna complain. You slowly lifted yourself off of him, both of you wincing slightly at the sensation. He immediately pulled you back to him afterwards and continued to rub your back like he had before. It was so comforting, you were scared you were gonna fall asleep in his lap, which you pretty quickly concluded wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world, noticing the way his eyes seemed to droop as well.

As you felt yourself starting to drift off, you heard his soothing voice near your ear. “I’m really sorry I got so rough Y/N. I didn’t mean to act like that. I just got so jealous seeing you with him and I didn’t know how to control my emotions. I didn’t know how to tell you how I felt.” He sounded genuinely sad when he spoke, the guilt evident in his quiet voice.

“Matthew, baby, don’t be sorry, ok? I really enjoyed every second of it, I promise. As for Shemar...you have absolutely nothing to worry about. I’ve only ever had eyes for you. You’re kind of stuck with me Gube.” You felt the chuckle vibrate through his body at your words and you lazily smiled against his chest.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” You heard him hesitate and you wondered if he was going to finish his thought, hopefully before you knocked out cold. “Would you-would you maybe want to go out with me this weekend? Like on a-a date? You felt your heart swell in your chest at his question and slowly nodded against him.

“I would love that, Matthew.”

Cherishing the feeling of holding each other in your arms, the two of you quickly succumbed to the drowsiness, falling into the most comfortable slumber you had ever experienced.

Tag List: @hopebaker @pastathighs @psychedellic-phase @gloryekaterina @sleepysnapesnake @racharr @etherealgubler @furiouspartyrebelhoagie @andiebeaword @liaabsurd @cielo1984 @starkeybaby @rainsong01 @moonlight-jukebox @victomizedbyreginageorge

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