#if he was stranded put somewhere he would definitely drink his piss

[how2bmotorized]

what a dude (his species thang is by @jeebusmeebus ,,,)

[bloodyhell-lucifer]

Daddy is the devil | Lucifer Morningstar

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x fem!reader

Summary: Reader is one of Chloe’s best friends and they haven't seen each other for a long time so the decision was made. Finally a sleepover at Chloe’s house since Chloe has a day off of work and Dan took Trixie with him to have some dad-daughter time. What they didn't know is that Lucifer will come with unexpected visit and reader’s shirt will cause such a mess.

Warning: language, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), praise kink, daddy kink, +18

Based on this request: Hello, I hope you are doing well, I would like to politely request a one shot (or more if it inspires you, you do you) from Lucifer, you can do whatever you want with it, reader insert, oc, smut, no smut, totally up to you but I would like it to involve Lucifer meeting/seeing the reader/character (preferably female, gender neutral is also fine) wearing that crop top from Blackcraft that says “Satan Is My Daddy” please and thank you

Notes:

Thank you so much for this request sweet anon! I couldn’t wait to write it down because this idea was so cool.

To be honest it’s my first real one request so I’m pretty excited and also this is my first smut so I’m not so proud about it. I think I don’t know how to write them. Someone teach me?

If there are some mistakes let me know because English isn’t my first language so as soon as possible I’ll correct it.

If you would like to send me a message, ask me about something or send me a request about imagine then the link is in my bio so feel free to message me! I would like to know you better and read your ideas and write them down😄

If you guys like my shitty writings you can follow me for more. I’ll be posting new things sooner than you think and thanks for so much activity under my posts and all the follows, it means a lot and I love u so so much xx

You and Chloe had everything planned for tonight. When you were talking on the phone to discuss the details you decided to have a movie night with some alcohol. You bought some wine, chips and sweets for you and your friend to have some snacks. Feeling of excitement was huge about finally seeing your friend after such a long time. You showed up at Chloe’s door about seven pm ringing a bell to her door. After few seconds the door were open and Chloe lean out from behind of it.

“Oh my god hi girl, so good to finally see you.” she enveloped you in a big hug wrapping her hands around your neck.

“Hi Chloe, long time no see.” you hugged her back. With a gesture of her hand she invited you inside and you stepped in.

After two hours you two were slightly drunk and making fun comments over character that was on the screen of tv during the movie.

“So tell me Chloe, some time ago you were taking to me on the phone about that guy you were working with that just have some attitude and always have something to tell and joke about. What was his name again? Lucian?” You asked her taking other sip from glass of wine.

“Lucifer to be exact. His name is Lucifer.” on her face appeared frown and she raised her brows. “Why you asking?”

“Just asking. You like him?” Hint of concern could be felt coming from your lips.

“Of course I like him. I work with him. He’s my partner.” she responded and nervously began to rub her hands against her thighs.

“You know that’s not what I meant. Is he that handsome that it’s bothering you?” you got up from the couch and headed to the kitchen to pour yourself another glass of wine since you finished the last one.

“Please stop. He’s definitely not my type. He’s arrogant, has got a big ego and always have that stupid smile on his face every time we go somewhere.” She folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes.

“Oh I hope I’ll meet him someday. I want to know who’s working with my best friend.” you winked at her and laughed along Chloe.

“Some day for sure.” Chloe was praying that this whole Lucifer topic will end with that. “Tell me you have someone?” She tried to change the topic of that conversation.

“Of course not. Some time ago I had a date with this guy named Brian but it didn’t go well and I lost hope for finding someone.” You said going back to couch and putting your glass on the coffee table that was in front of you. “Listen I’m gonna go and change because this jeans are so uncomfortable and I’m losing my shit with them” You grabbed your bag and went to bathroom to change. You picked your normal pjs which were just crop top with caption ‘Satan is my daddy’ on it and black bottoms.

“Oh Jesus Y/N what a shirt” Chloe blurted as soon as she saw you.

“It’s just a crop top Chloe. Can you just chill? We are already drinking a second bottle of wine and you still seem so stressed about something.” You declared after seeing her sitting so tense. One of the movies you’ve chosen was still playing in the room and none of you was watching it so Chloe switched it to music channel.

“Y/N I’m so sorry. I know I screwed this up. I’ve been stressed about work and Trixie and I don’t know what to do. I hoped I will invite you, we will have fun together after long time and this feelings would go away, but I guess it doesn’t go away and I can’t have fun. I messed up” she sighed and got up from the couch to just stand in front of you having her hands on your shoulder.

“We’re all humans after all, Chloe. I get it and I understand. You don’t have to worry. We can talk about it if you want and we still have time to make it fun. Go get change into your pj’s and and I’m expecting you turning back with a smile on your face.” You smirked to her and went up to set new snacks on coffee table.

When Chloe returned she didn’t have time to say anything because the bell from the door rang immediately.

“Did you invite anyone else?” You asked curiously.

“Of course not. Just you and me. No one else.” She added going to the door to check who was that. You were just standing right behind her.

She opened the door and Chloe saw the the last person she wanted to see today.

“What are you doing here?” She hissed and it was obvious that she didn’t want that person’s presence. You still couldn’t see who that person was.

“Oh don’t be so rude detective. I was in the neighbourhood and I thought that I’ll stop by with a visit.” You heard men’s strong deep voice with a British accent.

Chloe was so tired of this. She didn’t have strength to fight with that man and let him in and then you saw him. The man was a lot taller than you, shit he towered over you. You were so shock seeing that handsome man that you though that you were having a hallucinations seeing a Greek god. He had pitch black hair with little stubble. His hazel brown eyes were twisting into yours like he wanted to see every inch of your soul. Of course his devilish smile was there too to give him another hundred points to looking too fuckin’ good. He was dressed in fancy black suit and black button up that hugs his body so perfectly. You could see from distance that under all that suit he must be having a nice, trained body. Is that legal to look that handsome? You though to yourself.

“Bloody hell detective, I didn’t know you were having a company.” He sent you an evil grin and came into your way. Chloe stood there and she was about to say something when that man spoke to you.

“Hi, my name is Lucifer. Lucifer Morningstar.” He stepped closer to you and took your hand in his. He kissed the top of your hand.

“Like the devil?” You asked and you didn’t know if to laugh or to start panicking.

“Don’t bring my dad into this darlin’. Yeah, like the devil.” He still was having that smirk that could knock you off of your feet by any second. “And you are?”

“I’m Y/N” you gulped suddenly feeling naked under Lucifer’s gaze.

“Oh that’s a real beautiful one” he responded and lean in just to be few centimetres away from your figure. He took one of strands of your hair and put them behind your ear whispering to you. “I really like your shirt baby.”

You wanted to say something, anything but you just couldn’t. You didn’t want to believe that is was that guy Lucifer that you were asking Chloe about.

“Okey enough, Lucifer. Leave Y/N alone. What do you want?” Chloe closed the door behind him and asked Lucifer with frown on her face and furrowed brows. She had her hands on her hips and she really looked like she was not in the mood for such things.

“I said loud and clear I came just to check on you, but now as I see your friend I might want something.” He chuckled and looked at you again. You were so intimidated by his presence that you were looking down at the floor in that moment with blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“Can you stop being the perv that you actually are? If you don’t stop you’ll have to leave.” She urged staying in the hallway. Chloe really was pissed off.

“Okey dokey.” Lucifer raised his hands up in a gesture of surrender and he stepped back from you and went to the living room and you and Chloe follow along.

“Okey ladies, let’s start the night properly” Lucifer loud voice echoed through the room and you already had known that you gonna regret it later.

Chloe told you and Lucifer that she had enough of drinking and that’s it. She was not the one to convince so you and Lucifer were left to the alcohol that still was in the house. After another two bottles of wine and another two hours later in the night Chloe’s phone started buzzing and within moments she went to grab it and answered the call leaving the room. You knew you two were pretty drunk but you could still manage with yourself. Lucifer on the other hand after that two hours ended up with his shirt half unbuttoned and messed up hair after you challenged him to do so. You couldn’t get your eyes off of him sitting like that with his legs spread out and your whole body was screaming to straddle his lap. You though you were going to drool yourself at sight of his muscular torso. You felt pretty damn wet in your panties after sights like this.

“Guys I’m leaving for now. I’ll be right back but Dan called me saying that Trixie is burning up and probably having a fever. I’m going to pick her up. I have already ordered a taxi. Please don’t do something stupid. Y/N, I’m counting on you” Chloe shouted to you putting on her shoes, already changed and slumming her front door shut.

“Guess we have some time alone sweetheart.” Black-haired man said to you turning his head towards you. He put one of his massive hands on your thigh and you sighed after his touch touching your sensitive skin. Your knees were touching and you felt shiver running down your spine. His face was millimetres away from yours. The pad of his thumb running across your bottom lip making you tremble. Your breath hitched as Lucifer smirked at you.

“What do you say baby girl? I know you want me.” He seductively admitted. His deep voice echoing through your years. You felt like you were in trance. Thoughts and consequences be damned, you wanted him more than you’d ever wanted anything, and fuck anything that was in your way.

His thumb moving away from your lips as he was leaning in closer to you. His lips ghosting over yours. His hands cupped your face with his two hands caressing your cheeks. Both of you starred at each other. Your eyes fluttered closed as Lucifer laid his lips on yours. He kissed you passionately, your lips moving in sync. Lucifer’s eyes fluttering closed as well. He grabbed a hold of your hair pulling at them causing a moan felt from your lips as the kiss began to got deeper and needer. You decided to make a move and straddle his lap. His fingers moved from your jaw to your hips digging into them harshly. Your fingers quickly unbuttoned the rest of the buttons on his shirt. Your hands didn’t waste time to trail down his muscular torso what made him groan into the kiss. You broke the kiss first moving your head down towards his exposed chest, pressing your lips against it. You trailed wet, sloppy kisses down his chest, then down towards his stomach. Stopping above the waistline of his pants. Lucifer smirked down at you, as you got on your knees. Looking up at him, as you undid the button of his pants, then unzipped the zip pulling his pants down, as well as his boxers, you freed his growing bulge. Lucifer let out a hiss, as his cock sprang up, while you bit your lip. You stared at his big cock in awe making your way back to the couch to sit next to him.

“You like what you see baby girl? Would you like daddy’s cock in your tight, little pussy of yours? He asked grabbing a firm hold of your jaw making you look him straight into his eyes.

“Hell yes, please daddy” you said arching your back to get some friction from your actions.

Lucifer lowered you to the mattress, your back met the rough material of the living room’s couch. It felt so inviting, so intimidating. You wanted that so badly, your entire body screamed for pleasure. You felt air leave your lungs because of the handsome man has begun to kiss your neck. Your chest were heaving, you raised a hand to the base of his neck and held him there as he sucked strong marks onto your skin. Little moan left you, while your body began to surrender to him.

“You’ll be in hell soon darlin’. Sorry baby but this shirt needs to get out with rest of your clothes but it’s so beautiful and welcoming.” He quickly made you get rid of your clothes quickly. When Lucifer bended down while still keeping his brown eyes locked with yours his tongue swiped a lick atop your breast, then immediately took your stiffened tit in his mouth to suck. His other hand worked on massaging your other breast and you forgot about everything around you and let your body take over as your mouth produced another groan. That’s when he decided to pull your nipple lightly in between his teeth.

“Oh, fuck,” you exhaled the curse in ecstasy.

“Naughty girl aren’t you.” Lucifer grinned, but his tone suggested he’s aroused with your language. His hand ran down the plane of your stomach and slipped down to feel your pulsing desire. You could see it in his eyes how pleased he is at the amount of slickness he felt coating his fingers. He toyed with your clit in deliberately slow circles, and you whined at his touch while moving your hips to receive more stimulation. But Lucifer’s fingers went on to explore further inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the gasp that left your lips as he began to stretch you. He bended down again so that his face is above yours, cologne so strong yet soothing. Lucifer’s kisses were hot and needy. His tongue made a reappearance and became acquainted with yours. Your next gasp bled into a groan into his mouth when he added another finger.

“Yeah, please daddy, I want your cock so bad inside me.” you practically begged.

His fingers may be removed from your sopping heat, but in their place, Lucifer’s bending cock slided between your legs to coat it with your wet pussy. Dark haired man finally entered you. Your back lifted off the bed as you let out a lust-filled cry. It was a tight and delicious fit with your muscles constricting around his eager girth. The man’s lips twisted up at the sound and creates his own unbridled groan.

“Spread your legs wide, babydoll. Take the devil all in.” He was so big you didn’t even know how you can adjust, but your body found a way to relax enough for Lucifer to slide in deeper.

Your eyes squeezed shut at how he stretched you fully, but your voice begged him to move, to give you more. He went on to create a steady rhythm with his hips and all with that filthy comments on how tight and perfect you felt around him. You made another desperate noise as you continue your ascent, which prompts him to ask between grunts, “Speak, love. What do you need from daddy?”

“Your big hands with your fingers daddy” you somehow told with filling voice your need amidst your hedonistic sounds.

“It’s going to the direction I didn’t know it’s going” Lucifer laughed with devilish smirk upon his face.

It was what you need after all, the extra stimulation to bring you closer and closer to what could be the strongest orgasm of your life. In a series of ‘yes’s and curses, you reached another plane of existence. Flashes of white light grew behind your eyes while your mouth widened. Lucifer, in turn, exhaled a shaky and pleasurable moan as your body repeatedly constricted and pulled around his cock.

“Oh shit, doll, just right there.” He came inside you, hot and fast, and you feel the descent of your high flow through you. Every part of you was warm and exhilarated and thoroughly pleased. When Lucifer pulled out from you, he rolled over back onto the couch. His grin read that his own desires have been fulfilled. You knew you got yourself into a deep shit and there’s no way going back.

[sneezefiction]

answers

oikawa x reader

desc: oikawa changes some lyrics in taylor swift’s song “love story”

a/n: please keep in mind that most of this is just humorous & there’s no serious characterization in this particular story. i laughed a lot while writing it :,,) for @cutiekawa because you gave me the idea; thank you for that! and also for @seroto-rin because this is very similar to your husband’s lyric changing habits lol – i still laugh whenever i think about it <3 warnings: language, mentions drinking/being drunk

wc: 3k

— It’s 2 am when you hear Oikawa pattering down the hallway and past your room. From the gentle footsteps and the occasional whisper of “shit” when the floor creaks, it's obvious that he’s trying to stay quiet.

But his attempts are in vain because, one, you’re wide awake and, two, he’s just knocked over an empty beer can from earlier. It was probably the one he’d left on the hall table – you’d told him to throw it away but he’d refused saying that he’d “throw it away in the morning when his arms weren’t so tired.” 

This is just karma.

The clatter of the aluminum on wooden floors echoes throughout the dorm. A much louder, especially frustrated, “fuck” follows right after it.

The word, though crass, sounds deceptively attractive on his tongue. But most things Oikawa-related just happen to be attractive. 

You muffle your laughter with a blanket. He’s probably disoriented from the alcohol – it’s only been an hour and 5 drinks each since you both called it a night. You’d headed straight to bed but he’d fallen asleep on the couch where you left him, hair a-mess and lips parted.

But, for someone who used to stay out till daybreak on weekends, he’s spent most Fridays hanging out with you instead.

This weekend was no different.

Oikawa ordered Thai takeout, you found a mindless Netflix series to binge, both of you had a little too much to drink, laughter ensued, the doe-eyed boy found his head in your lap, and…

You pull a face – one that goes unseen because of the dark, but you make it anyway.

Okay, that last part was a little different.

He’d had his head in your lap.

His head… in your… lap.

And, if you’re not mistaken (or delirious), you’d had your hands in his hair, twirling strands and tracing circles at the base of his neck. A foggy image of him gazing up at you with softened eyes, deep chocolate in color, begins to solidify. 

That lazy smile, a hand on your thigh, tresses tickling your skin...

You turn over in your bed, bunching up your sheets and holding them close to you like a shield of fabric — a flimsy, make-shift defense against tipsy mind-wandering. It isn’t very effective.

Your brain is not wandering but racing around this hand-in-hair realization.

Like an iron rod poking at hot embers, these prodding memories make your cheeks grow hotter by the millisecond. You bury your face in your pillow, embarrassment tight in your throat. 

Somehow you’d forgotten that he’d practically climbed into your lap. You’re not in the clear quite yet, but your brain is functioning well enough that it wishes you’d had a little more to drink – just enough to forget about it entirely. You starfish out on your bed, arms and legs dramatically splayed across the mattress.

Do (hot, charming, charismatic, windswept) flatmates usually get this... cuddly? Is that normal?

Does Iwaizumi wrap his arms around his roomies after a long day and a few bottles? How about Mattsun? Makki…?

Okay, no, none of them really seem like the type to get up close and personal with their roommates without good reason. Well, maybe Makki, but he’d do it to be a pain in the ass – not to charm the living-hell out of someone.

You try to take in a deep breath and wrap your head around what this means for you… but end up inhaling a feather from your pillow instead. As you hack and cough, you try to smother the noise in more cloth material – you really didn’t need him coming into your room, much less leaning over your bed to check on you.

Oikawa is messing with your head. 

If you knew any better, you’d have run away screaming the moment he’d asked you to room with him. No one that pretty and charismatic is good news. At least, not when it comes to shared housing.

But, here you are, writhing under the covers and hot like a fever all because he couldn’t keep to himself. Screw him and his charming smile for putting you in this position.

He either knows you’re crushing like he’s the last man on earth or he’s blissfully unaware and way too physically affectionate for his own good. 

You don’t dare consider that he likes you back though. Only deer and Olympic athletes made leaps like that. Oikawa had too many admirers… an irritating amount.

The blankets scrunch even tighter between your fists, likely thanking their maker that they don’t have nerve endings.

Every fiber of your being is begging to know if these feelings are reciprocated. You’d hate to live out the rest of this semester knowing the boy down the hall may not like you back. Worse, that he finds out you think he’s hot shit and doesn’t like you back – that would be unrequited love at its finest.

But, with a degree and your mental health on the line, why should you care about such minor, itty bitty, pointless details. 

This isn’t that big a deal.

And even if he did like you back? Well, Oikawa isn’t someone you can simply “pin down.” He comes with a distinctive, dramatic personality and a meddling side. Not to mention, he’s already the embodiment of chaos – he’s proven this to be true over the past 4 months he’s lived with you.

There’s a familiar squeak of the shower faucet handle and the hiss of hot water. You jump at the sound.

Maybe he’d forgotten, but your bedroom shares a very thin wall with the bathroom. Though you recall him saying he wanted to take a shower earlier, so you guess that he’s only just remembered.

You pick up your phone, blue light casting a less-than angelic glow on your sleepy face. You pray that TikTok will have some sort of life-changing “I’m in love with my hot, crazy flatmate” advice. Or that it will distract you from your inner turmoil. Either would be appreciated but the latter seems more likely.

Scrolling slowly, you get through about 3 videos before something else catches your attention.

There’s a deep reverberation buzzing through your wall. A gentle hum, much like a shower-concert lullaby.

But the noise is getting louder. And the humming? A lot more lyrical.

You shift into a sitting position, propping yourself up with your hands. With your side sunken into a pillow, you press your ear against the cool drywall. Your ears tune into the sound.

Oikawa, voice confident and free, is… singing.

“...But you were everything to me, I was begging you ‘please don’t go’…”

But he’s not just singing.

“And I said…”

He’s belting Taylor Swift with the enthusiasm of an 11-year-old Swiftie super-fan. Like the world would end if he didn’t put enough passion into this performance. Like the showerhead is his microphone and the surrounding tiles are his adoring audience.

“Romeo, take me somewhere we can be alone. I'll be waiting; all that's left to do is run...”

Most people would be pissed if their friend were singing in the shower at 2 am… but you can’t find it in yourself to be anything but enamored.

God, you hate him for doing this right now. Hate that he’s inadvertently endearing you to him. Hate that, no matter what you do, he’s somehow always there.

Pressed up against you on the couch, meeting you for dinner at his favorite restaurant, fussing at each other over a shitty cup of coffee in your even shittier kitchen, calling you when he needs somebody to keep him company at the library… 

“You'll be the prince & I'll be the princess…”

And now he’s accidentally serenading you with Taylor’s “Fearless” album. In the shower.

You facepalm, sinking into your hands, exasperated and just so… done.

You sink back down into the bedsheets, wishing your earbuds were nearby to drown out the regrettably adorable performance. 

“It's a love story y/n, just say ‘Yes.’”

And your heart drops, panic setting in like the touch down of a whirling tornado. A fire tornado. A fire tornado with frogs and lizards and sharp objects spinning around inside of it.

What… did he just say?

The lyrics… they were muffled. You definitely heard them incorrectly. You… you just need to get your ears checked. Yes, that’s it. That’s all there is to it. You’ll schedule an appointment first thing tomorrow morning.

Because who the fuck sings like that at 2 am in a shared dorm? And who the fuck puts someone else’s name into a song like that? No one? Yes, no one.

Especially not the Oikawa Tooru.

And especially not with your name.

Because that’s just... weird.

The grip on your phone is mighty – thank God for durable glass because any other material would’ve splintered or shattered in your hold. 

But what the hell.

“Y/n, save me, I've been feeling so alone,” he sings as though he were Beyoncé’s son.

This time it’s clear as day. Oikawa is definitely still out of it and he’s undoubtedly singing your name.

No, no, no.

“I keep waiting for you but you never come…”

You bolt out of bed, feet hitting the floor at lightning-strike speed.

“Is this in my head? I don't know what to think,”

In one swift movement, you fling the bedroom door open and rush down the hall. You shouldn’t be listening to this. 

“He knelt to the ground & pulled out a ring, and said...”

And before you can stop your hand, it’s knocking rapidly on the bathroom door.

There’s a gasp, what you assume to a bar of soap hitting the shower floor, and an abrupt silence that follows.

You’d only wanted to stop him from singing.

However, you hadn’t thought through what you were going to say to him about this whole... lyrical mess. Your face feels like the surface of the sun, burning and flaring and flushing. What are you supposed to do now?

Oikawa speaks up, voice quiet, “Hello?”

Shit.

Maybe if you’re careful you can get yourself out of this. Just act like you didn’t hear anything and bring it up tomorrow when you’re both thinking straight. A thorough and sober discussion would be needed.

You had questions. Questions that needed answers.

Why did he have his head in your lap? Had you said anything to him that you’d regret later? Does he like you? Where should you two place your boundaries if he doesn’t like you back? And why Taylor Swift?

“Y/n, is that you?” He asks, nonchalantly.

Who else would it be?

The handle squeaks and, with that, the water stops. Only the gentle swirl of the drain and the occasional drips and drops from the showerhead are audible.

It’s too late. You’re already there. You’ve knocked and, in doing so, you’ve sealed your fate.

“...Yes,” is your whisper of a reply.

“What’s up? Was I too loud for you?”

You’ve got the entire building on high-alert singing that loudly.

...is what you would say if you weren’t currently imploding. This is like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. And nothing you ever want to experience again.

“Um, yeah, sorry.” You look down at your shuffling feet.

The hallway is pitch black, hardly allowing for even a mere shadow. Rushing out of your room, you’d forgotten to turn on even a single light.

You hear him step onto the tile floor and the rustle of a tower from the bathroom closet.

“Wait, can we talk?” He asks as though it weren’t the question of the fucking year. “I mean, preferably after I get out of the bathroom.” There’s a lack of tact to his words.

This isn’t the charming Oikawa you’re used to. This is a blunt… confusingly straightforward Oikawa.

His tone wavers like maybe he’d had a little more to drink than you’d last remembered. Your memory was proving to be disappointingly unreliable tonight.

You swallow thickly, “Sure.”

Because what else can you say?

“Can I stop by your room in a minute?”

You take a deep breath, “Yeah.”

And you patter back to your no-longer very safe haven. Oikawa is about to infiltrate your space… with your permission. And the weapons he’ll bring will either harpoon you or leave you emotionally paralyzed – whether that emotional paralysis is a good or bad thing will be decided in the near future.

Your bed, though soft and blanket-covered, looks far less appealing now. It may as well be a bed of nails because you would rather hide beneath it than sit atop it.

But you sit anyway, letting the mattress dip and the springs twang.

The bathroom door cries as it opens, putting you on edge. Your heart is pounding like a drum at a summer festival – hotter and louder with every beat.

The trod of footsteps tells you he’s approaching and, sure enough, the open door reveals Oikawa.

With only a lamp to brighten the space, he’s more contoured than usual. His hair is wet and heavy against his head, taking on an even darker brown than before. You’ve seen him fresh out of the shower before, but this… is different. Oikawa’s shirt sticks to his chest slightly – he must’ve thrown it on without drying off fully to get to you faster.

He takes a few steps into your room, choosing to lean his back against a wall next to your work desk. Oikawa brings his hands behind his back, pressing his weight into them. Brown eyes flicker from you to the wall behind you and back again.

Naturally, tension lays thick as a fog in the air space. 

“Hey, I’m…”

You cut him off, “You don’t have to say sorry! It’s… it’s okay.” 

Oops, you’d said that a little too loud. Not that it mattered much after Oikawa’s passionate performance.

An eyebrow raises and confusion sparks across his face. Your body freezes.

He brings a hand behind his neck. “Oh, I was just gonna say that I’m still kinda drunk.”

You knew that much. Though you really thought he’d say something other than that. Preferably something about the, uh, devoted love-song?

Why is he acting so casual right now? Is this even Tooru? Had he read too many alien conspiracies and been abducted for learning too much about extraterrestrials? 

Maybe he doesn’t realize you’d even heard him say your name in the shower.

“Oh... right.” You say slowly, lips staying parted at the end of your sentence.

“Which… probably isn’t good for either of us,” Different words drawl out and there’s a soft slur to some syllables, but at least he’s easy to understand, “me drinking too much, I mean.”

“Yeah,” you mutter.

“I think we should both just go to bed then.”

Your chest tightens. Of course, you want answers.

They’re likely embarrassing, face-reddening, Taylor Swift-centric answers. But you want them, nonetheless.

Although, it’s probably for the best that you don’t bring this up tonight. It was all probably a joke or a harmless accident – and, anyway, he admitted to being drunk.

“Right.”

“But I think you should know that I like you. A lot.”

“Yeah,” you respond again, automatically.

There’s another heavy silence. The pretty boy just stares at you, cherry colors tinting his cheeks but showing no expression of fear or embarrassment. You stare back, processing his words at turtle-like speeds.

The words tumble out, “Wait, say that again?” You double back, your own face reheating to its earlier temperature.

“I’m gonna be mad at myself in the morning if I don’t leave right now. And I really need to stop listening to that stupid song,” Oikawa says to himself. 

“But I wanted to see how you would respond if I changed the lyrics,” the words are pointed back at you again.

He stands up, feet moving slowly toward the doorway. Did he just… completely ignore your question?

Your jaw drops, “Did…” you can hardly speak.

Clearing your throat, you try again, focusing intently on your words, “...did you mean for me to hear you?”

“...Maybe.” He draws out the “e,” looking back at you.

That’s it. He’s lost his fucking mind. You’re going to strangle him. 

No TikTok advice could have prepared you for the monstrosity that is Oikawa Tooru. How Iwaizumi put up with that... that child for all these years, you have no idea.

You have to make a note of sending him a “get well” card, because nobody could be mentally okay after dealing with him for that long.

“B- but… why? What?” You stammer out, back stiff as a board.

“You like me don’t you?” He tilts his head, hair flopping cutely with it.

You gape like a fish, mouth opening and closing.

And it’s not that you don’t want to respond.

It’s that you can’t. You have no words. You vocal chords are on a panic-induced lockdown.

Because he knew.

He knew this entire time. Which you thought he might, but that doesn’t make the situation any less infuriating.

“And I like you back.”

You’re dumbfounded. You can’t think. This is ridiculous.

You open your mouth once more but he has no intention of continuing this conversation.

“Sleep well!” Without further comment, Oikawa flashes you a sleepy smile and begins scampering back to his room after having wreaked havoc on your poor heart.

Your voice comes back just in time for you to wake up the entire building once more,

“No, you get your ass back here and explain yourself!”

[reinersbb]

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄𝐓 [𝐉𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐊𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫] Chapter Four- Little Birdie

Chapter Four of Forget

The days from that eventful Saturday night passed on at a dreadful pace. It was official, midterms sucked a considerable amount, that much you were sure of. After a long week of exams, all you wanted to do was stay bustled in your bed after such a treacherous week.

Instead of taking a much-needed break with your free time, you were currently scrounging around your dorm. Carefully placing items that belonged to Floch in a cardboard box.

You had the slightest urge to keep ahold of one object, just one, one of his jackets as a remembrance of what was of the two of you. But at the last second, you decided against the idea and packed it in with the rest of his stuff.

"Where are you going again?" Ymir dabbed at her bottom lip using the back of her wrist to wipe the settlement of milk away that came from her bowl of cereal.

"I have to meet up with Floch and give him his stuff back," you said, continuing to double-check your dorm if you'd happened to find everything that belonged to him.

"You're a better person than I am," Ymir said, tilting her head back to drink the rest of the milk out of the disposable plastic cereal bowl, "I'd throw all of his stuff away without batting an eye."

The other day, you and Floch had a conversation over text to meet up and swap your belongings. Floch messaging you out the blue surprised you greatly. You hadn't talked to him since last Friday, the day he broke up with you.

"Yeah, well I want my stuff back from him," you replied, while it wasn't a complete lie, you wanted your possessions back, but you also wanted a reason to see him again.

And you hated yourself for it.

While Floch hadn't been too much on your mind, as soon as he messaged you asking to meet up, you couldn't keep him off of your brain.

"I think I have everything," you said while picking up the cardboard box, "I guess I'll be leaving now."

Tucking the box under your arm, your hip supported the box as you turned to look at Ymir. Ymir was getting up from her bed, putting away the disposable bowl into a wastebasket.

"Don't waste too much of your time on him," Ymir laughed.

"It's a get in, get out type of operation, I swear," you rolled your eyes, a smirk pulling at your lips as you headed for the door.

"If he's a dick to you and hurts your feelings just let me know and I'll kick his ass for you," what Ymir said sounded like a promise she had every intention on keeping.

But you brushed off her brute antics with a gentle smile, "thanks, Ymir."

You knew she'd have your back, for that you were thankful.

——————

Scanning the cafe thoroughly, your gaze combed over the herd of people until familiar fiery red hair fell upon your vision. Floch sat hunched forward, his attention dwelling into his cell phone. The cardboard box you'd been holding onto slapped against the table's surface Floch was sitting at as soon as you approached him. Causing him to jump, he nearly dropped his phone he'd been so well immersed in.

"You scared me," Floch lowered his phone to look up at you.

You couldn't help but laugh, "sorry," you lied.

"Let's just get this over with," he said with a sigh as he reached for a wrinkled shopping bag beside him that held all of your possessions.

He'd barely bat an eye to shove your things into a bag while you'd had the common decency to at least fold and put away with his things accordingly? The sight of carelessness alone left bitter distaste in your mouth.

And now you were silently regretting the decision to handle this transaction in public.

Then again, what did he owe you? It's not like he was your boyfriend anymore, he didn't have to hold the same amount of respect for you or your belongings any longer.

Maybe you were just too nice, especially to the guy who'd dumped you.

"Uh," you swapped the box for your bag of belongings, "thanks, Floch."

As Floch was examining the contents of the box, you couldn't stop yourself from speaking again.

"So, how you been?" As soon as the words left your lips, you bit down on your tongue as a knee-jerk reaction.

'Shut. The. Hell. Up.'

Why worry about his well-being? It was obvious he didn't reciprocate the same concern.

"I've been okay," his eyes bored into you without any interest. "Do we have to do this forced small talk right now? I've somewhere to be," Floch spoke again, standing up from the table.

"Of course, yeah," you took a step back, allowing him some space.

You wanted him to turn around and say something else, say something to you. A goodbye at least.

But all hope was lost as you watched Floch's backside as he walked away from you. There was no inclination that he'd turn around and catch a glimpse of you on his way out the building.

The plastic material that ringed around your hand fell victim to your nails as your fist clenched tightly. Your fingernails dug deep into your palm's soft flesh while watching Floch as he finally cut from your line of sight. The departure only leaving a dull pinch at your heart.

The rest of your body hardly kept up with the speed of your feet as you headed for the direction you originally entered from. Even though you were going back to your dorm to check out the contents of the bag, you peeled back the bag to take a quick look inside.

Your breathing stilled when you noticed an unfamiliar pattern on a shirt settled on the top of the rest of the items in the bag. Pausing for a beat in time, your feet locked on the ground beneath you as your hand meticulously scooped the shirt out of the bag to examine the material.

The shirt smelled of floral perfume, the potent kind that'd give a straight headache with a singular whiff. There was one thing for certain, this wasn't your shirt.

On the inside of your mouth, your teeth pinched at your cheek, fist crumbling the sheer cotton material as you pushed through the exit- only mildly running through people's way mid-process. Your heart was beating a thousand miles a minute out of blind rage.

There could only be one explanation, he'd been cheating on you with some other girl as the two of you were dating. That could be the only reason why there was a shirt in the bag that didn't belong to you. That or it was from a hookup after the two of you broke up, but you chose the latter.

Asking Floch about it definitely wasn't an option.

Within an instant, the shirt was tossed into the garbage as soon as you came across a waste bin. You didn't want to think about it. You knew nothing good would come about if you dwelled. But then again, what would change if you knew the truth?

With a sigh, you pushed your weight away from the trash can and took a moment to forward your attention to the dull sky above you. There you watched a formation of birds pass above in a tight-knit formation, and in the back of your head, you'd only wondered why you couldn't have been born as a bird instead. Then that way life wouldn't be as difficult, at least that was your thinking, even if it seemed a bit childish in the least.

"Are you feeling okay? You look like you're about to implode or explode or something," a familiar voice called out from beside, and your eyes reluctantly lifted to see Eren approaching.

"You hardly look recognizable when sober," you adjusted your stance to match face to face with Eren.

Eren stood tall, his hand hooked around the strap of his backpack that lazily laid on his right shoulder. His hair was tied back into a bun and the strands of his hair hardly weren't as messy from the first time you saw him.

"I'll take that as some sort of compliment and count that as you hitting on me," Eren whipped his head to knock all the loose strands of hair out of his face, a cheeky grin on his lips.

Out of response, you rolled your eyes but found yourself smiling as well. You could tell that under his flirtatious manner that he was only joking around.

"Sure, yeah, let's go with that."

"Back to my previous question, you're not going to explode or something-"

"No," you cut Eren short, "I'm not going to explode or whatever. My stupid ex pissed me off just now, that's all," you sighed, remembering the shirt that didn't belong to you.

"Exes tend to do that sometimes, but I wouldn't worry about it with whatever it was they did,"

"I guess," your voice trailed on, and you found yourself looking away from Eren to watch the crowd around you, unsure of what to say next.

It's only when Eren spoke again that your full attention was back on him in a heartbeat.

"Y'know a little birdie has been asking around about you."

"About me?" Your heart steadily galloped in your chest, "who?"

There could only be one person who'd been doing such things, you knew this. And you were thrilled in the least to think Jean had been speaking about you. But you didn't want to show any excitement and jump to conclusions in front of Eren, so playing coy would be your best bet.

Eren shot you a knowing look, "you two really seemed to hit it off when we were playing spin the bottle last week."

"Jean?" You asked with innocence.

"What about me?" A familiar voice from behind sent chills up your spine.

Through your peripheral vision, you watched as his presence cut to your right to stand in between you and Eren. Your toes tapped away in your shoes, deliberately battling away your nerves as you built up enough courage to look at the man you'd had a hook up with. And by Eren's word, the same man who'd been interested enough to ask about you.

"Speaking of the devil, I was just catching up with (Y/N) before you showed up," you felt a weight lift from your shoulders as Eren saved the moment.

Against your willpower, you couldn't contain your curiosity any longer when you finally glanced over at Jean. Jean's arms were wrapped around his chest as his narrow eyes were solely set on Eren.

"Talking about the party from last week," Eren spoke once again.

At the mention of the party, this was the first time Jean's eyes cut over to you. There was a glint of an indescribable emotion in his light brown hues as you held eye contact with him. You could almost put your finger on the emotion, it's almost like you'd seen the same look in his eyes before.

"Eren!"

Collectively, all three heads turned to a guy with short blonde hair with magnificent blue eyes.

"I'll catch you two later," Eren gave Jean a pat on his shoulder before sprinting off.

With Eren's newfound absence, there was a shift in the air around the two of you. Jean nonchalantly turned his head over to look at you once again. And instead of the cool exterior, he'd just been supporting, there was the faintest shift to relaxation in his demeanor.

"So," you twisted the shopping bag in your hand, unsure of what to say next.

"So..." Jean's voice trailed on, the corners of his mouth fighting the urge to curl into a grin.

"I'm sorry for just up and running the other night," you admitted, trying to cover your bashfulness.

Naturally, a bundle of nerves began to build up just by remembering the events that took place on the night of the party. Pressing your knees together, you fought back the memory that was clogging your mind to clear your headspace.

"If there's anyone who is in need of apologizing then it should be me for not getting any contact information to keep in touch with you when I had the chance."

A sharp jolt of electricity struck your heart, there was no point in trying to hide how fast your heart was beating.

Was he flirting with you?

'No...'

You played into his bid, "well, what's stopping you now, Jean?"

"Alright, I'll bite, can I see your phone please?"

"Sure."

Without any hesitation, you dug in your pocket for your phone. After unlocking your cell, the device flat in his palm that he held out. In a matter of seconds, Jean had your phone held out for you to take back.

"Here's mine," Jean said while handing his phone over to you.

Diligently you punched your number into his contacts, labeling yourself as your first name only. Only a few seconds later you were handing his phone back to him, his fingertips brushing against yours during the exchange.

"Sweet, now we can stay in touch," Jean bounced his phone against the palm of his hand. "Are you up to anything tonight?" He quickly added.

"Nothing much, really, why?" you replied, when in reality you'd been planning on binging YouTube videos in the comfort of your bed for the rest of the night and weekend.

"I was planning on going to this Halloween party tonight," his intense eyes scanned you up and down, "you should come too, it'll be fun."

"I'm assuming it would be some type of costume party? Does that mean I'd get to see you all dressed up?"

"Yeah I have a costume in mind," the lightest shade of pink crept on his face, "but you'll have to be there in person to see it."

"Sounds tempting, but I wouldn't know what to wear such short notice," It's not like you had a costume just lying about in your possession.

"Costumes are optional but they're encouraged."

"Give me some time to think about it, okay?" By looking at his face, you didn't have the heart in you to tell him no.

"Just shoot me a text whenever and I'll text you the address," Jean replied with a shrug, "or I'll just text you."

It wasn't until now that you noticed how close Jean was standing in front of you. Noticing the limited space between the two of you, his scent was intoxicating. A scent you were getting familiar with, warm cashmere, you could drown in it.

"Sounds good," you lifted a hand to send yourself off with a parting wave, "I have to get back to my dorm now, got some unfinished business to take care of."

And by unfinished business, you meant going through your belongings Floch gave back to you.

"Oh," Jean's smile faltered for a brief moment, but you didn't notice the disappointment in his voice when he spoke, "I'll leave you to it then."

"Bye, Jean," you'd already started on your departure, your feet sliding on the pavement beneath you as you took backward steps.

Jean found this amusing as he let out the faintest laugh, "see you later, (Y/N)."

Light brown hues stared through you until you turned your head with the rest of your body as you carried on home. During mid-process you glanced over your shoulder to look behind and steal a glance only to get caught by Jean himself. He'd turned to look over at you at the same time. A gallop in your heart and a boost in your step, you sped away in a fury of embarrassment.

Before you were even back to your room, there was a vibration from your phone. You pulled your phone out of your pocket as you scurried down the hallway, heading for your door that was just down the hall.

A message from Jean had your heart thumping.

'Already?'

Within an instant, you were checking the message.

Jean: I hope I get to see you again at the party tonight.

Along with Jean's message was an attachment of the address.

Unbeknownst to you, a smile had crept onto your face when you noticed that Jean had added a selfie of himself as the contact photo.

'When did he have time to sneak a photo?'

Pushing through the door to your room, you immediately tossed your bag at your bed. The bag fell to the floor just before reaching the bed.

"What the hell?" Ymir asked with a bewildered expression, a towel clutched in her hand as she dried her hair.

"Ymir," your voice was urgent as the door closed behind you after entering the room.

Ymir who'd had every intention on keeping her earlier promise greeted you with concern, "what is it? Did something happen?"

"I need your help finding a costume for a party tonight."

[redhoodieone]

Hate You More Part 2

Hey!!! Here is Part 2! Hope you all like it because there WILL be a Part 3! And I didn’t actually plan that lol.

WARNINGS: Language. Masturbation. Sex Toy.

“Do you think she’ll really like it?”

Who is Jason talking about?

Is he talking about me? Is he actually trying to make up for what happened between us earlier? Is this his way of saying he’s sorry and that he doesn’t really hate me?

I can feel my heart pounding in my chest. The thought of Jason doing something nice for me makes me suddenly nervous.

What if he smiles at me? What if he hugs me? What if there’s a moment between us?

Just the thought of Jason being nice to me and the possibility of “anything” happening between us sends me into a panic state. I find myself running back up the stairs and slamming my bedroom door shut and locking myself in.

What should I do to prepare myself when I see Jason?

Hiding out in my bathroom that’s privately connected to my bedroom, I stare at my reflection in the elegant massive mirror and begin to list what I should do.

Brush my teeth? I’d definitely need my breath freshly mint just in case we talk very close.

I hastily grab my tooth brush and apply a significant amount of toothpaste just to fresh up my mouth. After the appropriate time of scrubbing my mouth clean, I rinse and spit out the excess fluids and stare back into the mirror.

Touch up my makeup? I could apply more black eyeliner and mascara to make my eyes pop.

After retouching my makeup, I decide to put on my favorite tinted lip balm that’ll make my lips kissable yet comfortable.

I realize then that I should change my outfit. I sigh happily after pulling on my red lady thong. Deciding to slip on my favorite black skinny jeans with the tears throughout my thighs and knees, and my “lucky” red and black sexy corset top. The reason why it’s lucky is because any guy who sees me in it always lets me have my way with him. I chuckle to myself as I put on my black high heel boots because I can only imagine what Jason’s face will look like.

I hope he’ll be shocked as hell. Picturing his mouth hanging open like a cartoon’s and seeing the lustful look in his eyes sends a shiver down my spine.

I then make sure my push up bra makes my cleavage look so fucking amazing, I straighten my long hair and leave it down because I definitely have a hair pulling kink and it’s something I take very seriously.

After the spritz of my go-to hookup perfume, Oud Wood by Tom Ford, I realize I’m at my 150% best and make my way down the stairs. The second I make it to the sliding door leading to the backyard, I freeze.

And then suddenly, I’m hit with a wave of shyness; a feeling I’ve never really felt before. But why the fuck would I feel nervous about around Jason? Because come on—I HATE the fucking guy!!!

The little voice in my mind throws it’s head back and laughs in a tormenting manner at me: because you have feelings for him, you jackass!

No. No, I don’t. I’m not stupid enough to believe that. I should just go outside and see if the fool even flirts with me, because if he does, I can just laugh at him and make him feel like shit.

With one deep breath, I open the sliding door and slip silently outside. The backyard is lit up in a blue hue from the pool and jacuzzi. It’s a beautiful setting, I won’t admit that out loud. I look around and realize Jason isn’t where he was before.

Where the fuck is he?

A wolf whistle behind me alerts me fast.

“Fuck...holy shit. Is today my birthday?”

Spinning around, I’m face to face with a smug looking Jason. I may be frozen in place but I can see that he doesn’t hide the fact that he’s checking me out; like a hunter sneaking up on its prey. Jason licks his bottom lip and winks at me.

“So, what brings you down here looking like...that?” Jason teases.

Why the hell is he making me so nervous?! Out of all the other horrible times we’ve had, I’ve never felt so anxious to tell him to fuck off, but here I am! Standing like an idiot who can’t open her mouth and speak like a normal person!

I find myself pushing a strand of hair behind my ear. Fuck my life. “I...I saw your peace offering. I-I figured if you want to try to play nice that maybe I...I could too.”

There. I said it. Now that wasn’t so hard, right?

Jason stares down at me in surprise. His green eyes so wide and maddening that I find it difficult as hell to breathe. Slowly inhaling some air, I smile at him.

“I saw you got pizza. You also set out my favorite drink. You did all that, right?” I ask, pointing back at the mansion.

“I-uh...I did but-”

“Jaybird?”

We both whip around and see Isabel standing behind him. Isabel Ardila, one of Jason’s many one night stands. My eyes trail down from her curly blonde hair down to her skimpy purple dress with her huge tits practically falling out.

She pouts her pink full lips and flirts at him with her pretty blue eyes.

“Isabel...what-what are you doing here?” Jason stammers out. He instantly looks stunned as if he really wasn’t expecting her to come over.

“It’s a slow boring night. I thought we could hit up one of your dad’s nightclubs and have some fun,” Isabel says, and approaches us. She has a few inches above me, and looks down at me with a smirk. “Look at you all dressed up so sexy tonight, and for Jason...”

I frown and look between Jason and her.

“He is your brother, you know?”

Isabel cringes and grabs Jason’s arm tightly. “Please tell me nothing is going on between you and your sister. That is sooo disgusting!”

I look to Jason and plead with him through our eye contact to say something. Say anything to her! I know Isabel’s right, and that Jason is my brother but he’s also my stepbrother. I also want him to admit that I’m not the only one who is flirting between us...if that’s what we’re even calling it.

I can’t be the only one who has feelings right now. Jason must have them, too.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Of course I don’t have feelings for her! Y/N, you’re my fucking sister, and I think it’s gross as fuck that you’re trying to fuck me. I mean, God damn! We’re family!” Jason taunts. He acts repulsed and pretends to puke in front of me.

Isabel giggles and the two of them laugh their asses off at me. Don’t get me wrong. There is a questionable amount of pain in my chest at what Jason said, but my inner bitch is clawing her way out of my head and I may or may not be responsible for whatever happens right now.

“That’s a bit rich coming from you, Jason. As of this morning, you’ve made it perfectly clear that I’m not in your family. So, if we’re not family, then we’re nothing to each other,” I say with a bitchy grin.

Jason and Isabel aren’t laughing anymore. As a matter of fact, they’re completely shocked at me.

“Oh, and for the record Isabel, there’s absolutely NOTHING going on between Jason and me. I know he’s my brother. I’m not even denying that. But as for him,” I say, gesturing over to Jason, who is staring me down hard. “He doesn’t see me a sister. If anything, he might want to fuck me. He’s completely obsessed with making me hear him fuck other girls. His behavior is disgusting because he’s supposed to be my brother! What he’s trying to do to me is borderline illegal!”

Isabel jerks her head over to Jason. “What is she talking about, Jason?!”

“Go on, Jay. Tell her. Tell her how you always stare at me, tease me, and how you’re always talking about sex with me!” I urge him angrily.

Jason’s eyes darken and for a second, I’m kinda scared of him. He clenches his jaw. “I rather get castrated by the Joker, than ever fuck you, princess.”

It’s like everything around me freezes. My smile shifts into a frown and my confidence is taken away fast like a toy from an adult. Isabel scoffs and shakes her head at me. My cheeks burn with humiliation and I just know I won’t hear the end of this from either of them, especially Jason.

I don’t know whether I’m more embarrassed of the fact that Jason claims he rather get castrated from the Joker, the psychotic clown villain in Gotham than have sex me, or if the thought of having sex with me in general is just so...unbearable.

I didn’t think I was so unfuckable until now.

“That’s fine with me. I rather fuck Dick than you, because he’s Bruce’s favorite son and he’s more of a man than you’ll ever be,” I spit out before turning to run back into the mansion.

——————————————————————————

I slam my bedroom door again for the second time today, but I don’t care. Rage is fucking pumping through my blood and I need a fucking release before I lose control.

Ripping off my clothes until I’m down to my lacy bra and thong, I climb up my big bed and reach into my nightstand to get my dildo and lube out. The thick, veiny replica of a man’s penis is what I’ll have to take out my frustrations on.

I throw myself down; my head hitting the pillow and my hair fanned out around me in a sexy manner as if I’m ready to get my brains fucked out. Popping open the lube, I squeeze a good amount in my hand to smooth it over my dildo. Tossing the lube somewhere on my bed, I pull my thong to the side to reveal my bare pussy.

My fingertips rub up and down my folds. I’m so wet that I know I can slip a finger or two in without any resistance.

“I fucking hate him so much,” I mutter under my breath.

Jason is literally the only guy who could piss me off and make me want to fuck him into submission.

Maybe he could even fuck me until I’m down on my knees for him.

Closing my eyes, I start to push my dildo into me. My walls squeeze around the toy tightly as I gasp at how good it feels to be full.

“Fuck...” I choke out in overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck princess...”

My eyes shoot open and I’m completely horrified to discover Jason Fucking Todd is standing in MY bedroom, with his mouth hanging open in shock and with wide eyes, and his Fucking hand rubbing against his prominent bulge.

“Jason...what are you doing in my room?” I struggle to say, as I continue to push and pull my dildo in and out of my pussy fast. I just can’t stop. I can’t find it in me to stop when Jason is in my room watching me.

He quickly closes my bedroom door with his foot and makes his way towards my bed to stand directly in front of me. I use my other hand to caress my tits that I so badly want to free from my bra.

“I came to tell you I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Y/N,” Jason begins but trails off when he watches intently when I pull out the dildo and he can see all my slick coated on the sex toy. He licks his bottom lip and bites it. “You’re right though. I don’t see you as a sister or a part of this family because the way I feel for you isn’t the way a brother should feel. I-I never meant to hurt your feelings. I just...I tried so hard to not to fucking fall for you but I did and I can’t stop.”

I look up and notice Jason’s eyes are wet. Despite his usual cocky behavior and sexual advances, he was standing here before me and he appears to regret everything.

I sit up and lean back on my elbows. I drop the dildo in between my open thighs and I force myself to look up at Jason. I expected to see him staring at my obvious insanely wet pussy but his beautiful emerald green eyes were locked on my eyes.

“I really thought you hated me,” I whisper, afraid to hear what Jason says that might hurt me again.

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. The only person I hate is myself, and that is something I’ve been doing for most of my fucking life,” Jason admits. He tries to smile but it falls when he sees I’m not.

Jason crawls onto my bed and stops as soon as he’s in front of my legs. He’s immediately nervous; his shaky hands run up my knees and stops until he reaches my closed thighs. He keeps his eyes on me.

“Listen to me, Y/N. You’re right. I’m a fucking asshole. I’m always a dick to you and that isn’t right. I’m sorry for everything I’ve said and done to you, and I know sorry won’t even make up for all the hurt I’ve caused you. Just...please,” he whispers and reaches for my hands. He holds them tightly. “Please give me a chance to show you how much you really mean to me. One chance. Please?”

I know our fight is both our faults, and if one chance can fix this, I’m game.

“Okay, you get one chance Jay,” I say and with an evil smirk that I can’t help, I open my thighs and I pat my pussy. “You want a chance? Make me cum. With your fingers. With your mouth. If you can make me cum so hard, you can do whatever you want to my body.”

Jason’s eyes darken with lust. He licks his lips and he gives me his usual shit eating grin. “Oh princess, you are aware of my oral fixation for pussies don’t you? I’m going to make you cum so hard that you’ll be begging to be mine!”

[lessthandivine]

promise that I’ll meet you halfway | lm x r

pairing: lou miller x you

warnings: light angst, swearing, tsundere!reader, shameless theft (obviously,) suggestive dialogue, stubborn idiots, no beta we die like men

word count: 4672

based on a writing prompt: look, we could keep pretending you hate me, or you could kiss me.

summary: having joined the team at debbie’s request, you do recon for the marauding eight. it’s all smooth sailing, save for a certain blonde that distracts you to no end. swords clang, but you realize where you stand, just in time.

Lou.

Even thinking about her made it hard to breathe, and you swallowed, shaking yourself. Every time she looked at you, with that narrow, cocky gaze, you just couldn’t stand how annoyingly attractive it was. How ridiculously hot it was when her eyes tracked down your body every so often. How infuriatingly smooth and low her voice was when she praised your plans and diagrams, mentioned how important the pages upon pages of valuable information you’d painstakingly collected were. All of that, on top of her irritatingly charming smile and exasperatingly endearing kindness, wit, courage, and intelligence.

You couldn’t stand it.

Shutting the door quietly behind you, you sighed as you took off your coat, shaking your hair out from it’s bun. The loft was quiet, empty, and the clatter of your boots, untied, of course, echoed through the space when they hit the floor. Hanging your coat on the peg, you rubbed your tense neck and rolled your wrists. Walking slowly to the sitting area, you wondered if there was anything stronger than a beer in the kitchen—you could feel the tension in your shoulders, sore muscles and sore joints. Side effect of the occupation, you thought wryly. Recon involved a lot of things, one of which was staying in one place. Small spaces, often. For long periods of time. You were too young to have joints that hurt. No stranger to stress, it didn’t faze you, but none of that made it easier.

You paced a little, fingernails scratching the pad of your thumb, a nervous habit from university. Today, you’d scouted out several locations, none of them leaving much room for comfort. Work always pulled you in several different, sometimes dangerous, directions. Collecting intel, too, involved mind games. You also had to go see a potential ‘client,’ to try and wriggle some information out of. He was the usual sleazy type, of course, and you had to resist the urge to break his nose when he leaned in close and put a hand on your knee, instead carefully plastering on a cloying smile. And while that was your specialty, it was hard. You didn’t like to admit it—everyone played their role in the heist, and you knew you were a key part, but damn if it didn’t take a lot out of you.

You had a reputation to uphold, and this new project at the Met just had so much on the line, you knew you had to do the best you could. And more. Even after the whole affair, while everyone was celebrating, you took the time to scope out a few places that the team had mentioned they might hit next. Your teammates were all so confident and experienced, while you were relatively new in the field, only working on the side or behind the scenes. Especially Debbie, who’d been in this for years, and her right hand woman, Lou.

Lou.

Even thinking about her made it hard to breathe, and you swallowed, shaking yourself. Every time she looked at you, with that narrow, cocky gaze, you just couldn’t stand how annoyingly attractive it was. How ridiculously hot it was when her eyes tracked down your body every so often. How infuriatingly smooth and low her voice was when she praised your plans and diagrams, mentioned how important the pages upon pages of valuable information you’d painstakingly collected were. All of that, on top of her irritatingly charming smile and exasperatingly endearing kindness, wit, courage, and intelligence.

You couldn’t stand it.

It also made the heist planning much more difficult than it already was. You thought it would be better after the team successfully pulled the whole plan off, but even now when it was all over, those stupid feelings were still there. It pissed you off just thinking about it. The weird, irksome fluttering in your stomach, the kind that made you feel simultaneously sick and elated, never failed to come around when Lou was there. It was impossible, really, to handle. Whatever it was, you weren’t familiar with it, and you absolutely hated not knowing.

And it was horrible, worsened tenfold by the fact that you couldn’t even talk to her normally. Work, though difficult, was made easier by the fact that you, her, and the whole team had something to focus on. That forced you to calm down and function properly, for the group dynamic. But anything else, anything personal, almost always resulted in a row, or at least a snarky, unnecessary comment. You always had some sort of sarcastic remark, and Lou, being Lou, always had one in return. It was never so explosive that it would break the team apart, but it definitely made everyone look twice.

You forced yourself to relax as you heard someone coming down the stairs. You’d thought you were alone, the rest of the team out at some sort of… mini golf drinking game course? But you turned from where you’d been pacing a path in Lou’s living room floor to see Debbie.

You smiled instinctively, something tight and too at ease to be real. “Hey.”

“Hey yourself, kiddo,” Debbie called back, slumping down onto the couch. “You okay?” You and Debbie had been acquaintances for a while before she called you to work on this, knowing you were the best person for the job. She’d helped you out of a tight spot more than a few times, so you trusted her. It only made sense that she could read you, could see the nervous tick in your jaw.

You shrugged. “I’m fine,” you said, a little more roughly than you needed to.

“I believe you, sweetie,” she said soothingly, knowing you didn’t mean it. You looked at her, an apology on the tip of your tongue, but she just smiled and you knew she knew.

The loft door opened, a familiar stomping on the wooden floors making you sigh. Even without looking, you knew that Lou was back, pulling off her boots and throwing them aside. Without undoing the laces. Didn’t she realize how easily she could fall like that, and break her arm or something?

Debbie bit back a smile. You really had no idea how similar the two of you sounded, coming in the loft in your boots. When you came in together, it was nearly impossible to tell which one of you was which until one of you complained about the other’s coat on the hanger, or something equally inconsequential. And she knew, by virtue of having been around the two of you separately for various amounts of time in past years, that neither of you would bother to untie the laces putting them on, or taking them off.

Soon enough, Lou came strutting in like she owned the place (which she did, you granted) in her damned black leather jacket, black leather pants, pulling her bike helmet off her head. It left her hair tousled, and as she dragged the back of her hand across her forehead, a bit of bike grease smeared.

She should’ve kept the helmet on, you thought dumbly, as your eyes lingered around the smoky black that made her slate blue irises seem to glow, the smirk she always wore, the few strands of hair plastered to her face, and you couldn’t help but keep watching as she shucked off her jacket, revealing a customary button down (in zaffre, today.) Was it impossible for her to wear a shirt like that without having half the buttons undone? It looked stupidly good, and you forced yourself to resume your pacing after giving Lou a nod.

Lou glanced at you, and then at Debbie, who shrugged. She dumped her helmet on the table by the couch, and you turned at the noise, inwardly sighing. As Debbie asked Lou if Tammy and the others were still at the course (they were,) you crept quietly around her, picking up her helmet carefully from the side table. You were halfway to the foyer, where things like this were supposed to be, when a shuffle made you pause.

“Can you not move that all the time? I put it there for a reason.” Lou’s voice, definitely annoyed, carried through the loft. Behind her, where you couldn’t see, Debbie shot her a careful look, which Lou ignored. You hated it when she put her helmet there, because there was always other stuff that needed to be there, and she knew it. And you knew she knew, so why didn’t she just keep it somewhere else? There was plenty of space, and it would be easier for everyone. You were silent as you could hear her footsteps coming up behind you, stopping a good distance away.

“I wouldn’t have to, if you didn’t leave it in random places all the time,” you finally said, needlessly curt. You knew you sounded childish, but it was easier than turning around and coming up with a response where you’d have to look her in the eye. You knew that those strange feelings in your chest would come back, the ones that surfaced whenever you were around Lou. She stared at you for a moment—you could feel it burning into your back—then scoffed.

“Nobody asked you to clean up after me,” she replied, just as caustic. You were about to retort, but you paused, choosing to set the helmet down on the shoe bench.

From her vantage spot on the sofa, eyes flickering between the two of you, Debbie sighed. She pinched the bridge of her nose. “You two fight over everything, even the most stupid things. Just quit it already.”

You didn’t say anything, ducking your head. Guilt swelled up in you, over disrupting the dynamic, over doing something you didn’t need to do and saying things you didn’t need to say, over how you just couldn’t get your head straight. You couldn’t bother to apologize as you hurriedly slinked away to the kitchen, missing Lou looking over at you, confusion masking the hurt in the furrow of her eyebrows.

You might’ve missed the look, but Debbie didn’t, leveling Lou with a deadpan expression, unimpressed.

“You two,” Debbie started, but Lou cut her off.

“Shut it, Ocean, I already know what you’re about to say.”

Debbie continued quietly, ignoring Lou’s protest. “You two dance around each other in the worst way. She hurts you because she doesn’t know how to recognize her feelings, and you hurt her because you’re too stubborn to make the first move.”

Lou glared at Debbie, hating that her best friend was so perceptive, and hating that she was right.

Debbie sighed, waving Lou off. “Whatever. she’s young, maybe this is the new mating dance.” Lou laughed dryly, crossing her arms. “Anyway, do something, or not, soon. There’s a betting pool, and I can’t lose to Constance. Again.” With that, Debbie stood and walked out. Lou stared at the spot where she’d been, hearing the loft door open and close. There’s a what? On us?

Lou ran a hand carelessly through her already messy hair, groaning. Contrary to what you probably thought, she’d seen the tension in your too-straight back, and she inferred that the day’s missions must’ve been stressful. She knew where you’d gone when you left all those celebration parties early. Why did you always have to work so damn hard all the time, running yourself into the ground? Didn’t you know how to take a break and relax? You worked just as hard as everyone else, sometimes harder, but Lou knew that because you were younger than most of the team, you felt the need to make up for it. How stupid, she thought. Your work was impressive as it was, were you really so blind as to overlook how important you were to the team?

Lou tried to avoid thinking about how important you were to her, a familiar frustration already coming to her mind. The two of you traded barbs, always, but sometimes, it made her wonder. It made her wonder something she wasn’t willing to think about, not right now.

You weren’t often seriously moody like this—though you were stressed half the time, you really were a fun person to be around. You were incredibly witty and charming, even (especially) when you were shooting some annoyed comment in Lou’s direction. She’d send one back, and you’d parry, just as quick and dry. She enjoyed it, almost too much, because she’d never met anyone quite on par with her, for verbal sparring. Until you. 

Until you. That summed up everything, didn’t it? All the girls that came before, Lou had never really felt anything for them. She thought she did, but it all went out either with a bang or a whimper. Until Debbie brought you in one day, in the early stages of the Met heist, and you had so much information, detailed insider plans, and a brilliant mind to match. Plus, you’d looked something incredible in your Tom Ford sunglasses, thick Armani cable knit turtleneck, Brioni jacket, Gucci wool coat (‘it’s rather grand, though, isn’t it?’ you’d replied when she’d playfully commented on how tacky Gucci could be,) elegant Cartier watch, crisply pleated Savile Row (Richard Anderson) trousers, shiny Jimmy Choo oxfords, and Target socks. It all totaled, easily, up to twenty. Twenty thousand, Lou had figured. Euros. There were no logos, but she could just tell, from experience. The fact that you hadn’t paid for a single item made it all the more attractive. How she could still remember all that, and the way you’d gestured, the passion of the work really setting into you, was remarkable.

As the plans and projects continued, you’d always been there for the rest of the team with easy advice, and you were never at a loss for what to say that would make everyone laugh. At first, Lou had a hard time with it. Having real feelings for someone was scary, everyone knew that. Especially you. But the sweet sense of inevitability with which she was drawn deeper and deeper into you? That was something she couldn’t ignore, instinct told her. She’d looked upon your bickering with a sort of fondness, that went with how she felt about the rest of you.

Maybe. Just maybe, Debbie was right. Lou was fairly sure that you were attracted to her, that much was evident in the way your eyes lingered on her. It was a familiar thing for Lou, but when it came to you, your attention made her skin flush and her blood thrum. She’s Lou Miller, for goodness’ sake, She could get a girl (or two) easily. But you? You were something else entirely. And Lou Miller was never one to miss a chance.

The loft was empty now, except for you and Lou. You’d heard Debbie leave from where you’d escaped into the kitchen, pouring yourself a stress maté. You just needed a moment to calm your nerves, then you could hopefully make yet another escape upstairs, to go mope under the guise of working on plans. Sighing, you sat down at the table, wondering if ‘destressing’ was even possible, at this point.

Without her boots or heels on, Lou really was as silent as a cat, and you nearly jumped when you looked up from your tea and she’d materialized in the doorway.

“Jesus, Lou,” you said dryly. “Do you always tip toe around like this?”

Lou sighed, unknowingly imitating you, carefully watching you at the table with one of your stupid tea drinks in front of you. There were shadows under your eyes, and your shirt collar (Louis Vuitton, today) wasn’t as neatly tucked as it usually was, and your lips were set in a thin line.

“A good evening to you too.” You nodded at her greeting, casting a furtive glance at her. Moments of silence passed, where she stared at you and you alternated between looking at her, and looking away. God, did she really have to wear that eyeliner she always wore, the one that made her grey eyes look all sultry and alluring? It was just stupid, you decided.

“We fight all the time,” Lou started, blatantly ignoring your scoff. “Don’t you think it’s messing with the team?”

You shrugged, replying without thinking. “Does it really matter?” Even Lou was a bit taken aback at your blasé answer. You were nothing if not intensely meticulous and almost foolishly dedicated to the work they did, but she could tell you immediately regretted your words.

She walked over to stand opposite you, in front of the counter. “I know you don’t mean that.” The words came out sharper than she meant for them to be, and your returning gaze was almost doleful.

“You don’t know a thing about me.” At the sudden, hastily suppressed flinch from Lou, you cringed, biting your lip. She did know you. She hadn’t come to pick you up from one of your scouting locations, in the dead of night, long after you were supposed to come back, because she was bored. Even if she did, almost physically, drag you from your spot, silently kicking and screaming, and even if you complained about it the whole way back, you appreciated it. Sometimes, only Lou, not even Debbie, could tell how tired you were, and sent someone else to go with you to collect intel, to take the pressure off. You regretted your slip, more than you’d regretted your former feigned carelessness, because it just wasn’t true.

“Don’t I? You don’t even know yourself.” You deserved that, you knew.

“Watch it, Miller.” But you said it without malice, in a borderline teasing way. You’d both overstepped, but something in the air wasn’t awkward, or uncomfortable, it was just there. Barely normal.

“We fight all the time,” Lou said again, quietly. “But you don’t really hate me, do you?”

At her question, you looked up, startled. You gazed right at her, tired and sad in the slump of her shoulders, leaning against the counter, in the way she looked at her feet instead of at you. The sight sent an oddly unpleasant shiver through you, and your heart twisted with guilt. Of all things, you weren’t expecting that, at all. Surely, Lou knew that you respected her, right? That even though your conversations weren’t always the best, you admired her hard working manner, her advice, and her input.

But that’s not what she asked, is it? Your rough words sent all the wrong messages, you knew, but she’d never let it affect her. Or at least, she hadn’t let it show. Had it hurt her this entire time?

“I—“ you swallowed, licking your dry lips. “I don’t hate you. at all.” Quite the opposite, in fact. The thought made you pause. You didn’t want Lou to think that you hated her, because it wasn’t true at all. You really, really wanted her close, closer than you’d ever wanted anyone, and it terrified you. You didn't hate her at all. You just didn’t know how to deal with just how much you liked her, how much of a place she had in your heart and mind. How much you had grown used to Lou’s presence, Lou’s easy, witty dialogue, even when bickering with you. Lou. That, all of those annoying, little, petty fights, what you were used to, it was the easiest way for you to just talk to her. To ignore what you really wanted with her. That was all so much simpler than confronting the yawning void in your chest that you knew would gape open if she somehow wasn’t in your life anymore.

“Then why do you—“ Lou’s voice caught in her throat, and you couldn’t stand the, for once, openly conflicted look on her face. You looked away, guilt clouding your eyes.

“Lou, I don’t hate you, I just—“ you stopped, your own voice failing you. I just need you, more than I’ve ever needed anyone, and it terrifies me to no end, that I could take the chance and fail, and break us, and I—

“You just what?” You didn’t miss the defensive, almost… hurt? tone her voice had taken.

“Fuck.” Even without looking at her, the shame creeped into your stomach, twisting and winding. “I never know how to talk to you.” Had you caused that, all because you didn’t know how to confront the way you felt?

“You don’t know how to talk—“ Lou scoffed, crossing her arms. “That’s rich. You? Don’t know how to talk… you’re one of the most well spoken, eloquent people I’ve ever met. Quit the excuses, doll.”

Even now, the feelings returned to your chest, both at her acknowledgement and that dumb term of endearment, the one that lodged itself firmly in your memory. Does she really think that?

“To you,” you said softly.

You looked back up at Lou, not bothering to hide the look in your eyes. Her own face was uncharacteristically vulnerable, making her seem young and afraid. She met your gaze, and the feelings, already rising from her just being there, suddenly shot up, especially when she let her eyes flicker down to your lips.

Lou came over to you abruptly and leaned across the table, propping herself up with a hand dangerously close to yours. You felt your heart jump as she locked gazes with you, as if looking for something, but you didn’t dare move. Her searching scrutiny was intimate, welcome, even, because you could feel yourself on the edge of something bigger than just you.

“Look...” Lou said lowly, eyes stormy but clearing by the second. “We could keep pretending you hate me, or you could kiss me.”

You could only look up at her, back into those turbulent grey eyes, startlingly close. Your mouth parted in surprise. And god, you could see everything swimming in those eyes, anger, anxiety, frustration, hope... fear. Everything inside of you toppled over, and you made up your mind. You just needed a little push.

She straightened up and turned away without a word, jaw tightening. You knew you’d waited more than you should’ve, but it wasn’t too late. You stood to move to the other side of the table, and before Lou could register what you were about to do, you grasped her wrist, gently, spinning her around into your arms. She gasped, hand coming up to rest on your waist, steadying herself. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders, eyes fluttering shut—you two had never been this intoxicatingly close, only pressed shoulder to shoulder when working on plans. This was something else entirely, as Lou was so warm, so close, that you could even see where her mascara had left little sooty smudges on her cheeks. You thought to yourself, god, I hope I haven’t gotten this all wrong. The next instant, you brushed your noses together, feeling your own breath come out in a shudder as your lips brushed hers, ever so slightly. Lou’s arm tightened around your waist, the other rushing to cup the back of your neck possessively. Tilting your head away, you let yourself pause, eyes still closed, breathing tremulously with all the hope, devotion, and understanding you held in your arms.

“Tell me to stop.” Your voice was strangely quiet in the thrumming air, and almost immediately, she pulled you in so her hips pressed against yours, breath coming out in hungry pants.

“Don’t.” Lou’s answer snapped something in you, and you lurched forward, sending your weight into hers, lips flush. Tangling your hands in her hair, you couldn’t resist, all slow and soft and fast and hard. She moaned into your mouth at the tension, and everything you’d tried to push away, lock away when you were with her rushed to the surface like tears in glossy eyes. And you let it, you let it rise into the air, into your chest, into the fingertips that caressed her scalp. And Lou, in turn, felt you against her, hot, heady, and held you as close as she dared, then a little closer, because you were always more, always lovingly, gorgeously more.

You could taste the coffee and cigarettes on her, and it felt so much like the right place to be that you smiled, a happy, effervescent hum bubbling up in you. You two broke apart, breathing hard, and you bit your lip, grinning so wide that your cheeks hurt. Lou raised an eyebrow at your expression, resisting the quirk that pulled at the corners of her kiss swollen lips.

“What’s so funny?”

Her demand sent a flush through you, and you just laughed again, pulling her in again for another kiss, chaste and playful this time.

“Me.” You gazed easily up at her amused face. “I was so stupid. I spend so long thinking about how I felt in my own head when I could’ve just thought about you, how you felt, and that would’ve given me an answer better than anything I could’ve come up with.”

Lou’s eyes softened, and it was her turn to press her lips to yours, gentle and giving, so unlike the bruising urgency of before. But no less welcome. “It doesn’t matter how you got there, what matters is that we’re here now.”

You nodded, tucking your face into the crook of her neck. You were a little shorter than her, so this was easy for you, and you felt her cheek against your hair.

“God, I—” you swallowed, inhaling deeply. She smelled like her bike, something clean and warm at the same time, and strangely enough, tequila, though you hadn’t tasted any of it. “I’m really sorry, Lou, I shouldn’t have handled… all of this… like I did.” You worried your lip between your teeth. “It hurt the both of us, it hurt you…”

Lou chuckled, thumb tracing circles just under your earlobe. Dropping a hand from your waist to find yours, she pressed your knuckles to her forehead, her cheek, her lips. “Darling, I said it doesn’t matter, didn’t I?”

I don’t deserve your forgiveness. Sighing, you pulled back, looking into her easy smile, her bright eyes, and you cupped her face to kiss her. You tried to put all you didn’t know how to say into it, and she seemed to understand, groaning softly into your mouth.

“Did you have fun at the course?” You asked quietly, pulling away.

“It was alright,” she replied noncommittally, swaying a little with you in her arms. “I’m sure they’re all drunk as all hell right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” you said, surprised. “You didn’t drink?”

“Nope.” she shrugged. “I wanted to talk to you.”

You were about to reply, a smile playing itself on your lips, when the loft door flew open. Voices filled the loft, a few tipsy shouts accompanied the clatter which you knew was the coat stand tipping over. You felt Lou tense a little up a little beside you, but you didn’t bother to move from your sanctuary in her arms. She relaxed again, also not bothering to separate herself from you.

Debbie walked in with the group, reaching the kitchen first. Upon spotting the two of you, arms wrapped around each other, she broke out into a wide grin.

“Constance, you owe me five!” She yelled, turning back to you. I’m happy for you, she mouthed in your direction, and you just smiled, leaning your head on Lou’s shoulder.

“Seriously?” You could hear Constance stumble her way to Debbie, a flush on her cheeks. She groaned, slapping a hand to her forehead. “Come on!”

“Five thousand, hand it over.” You giggled at Debbie’s smug expression, and without looking, you knew that Lou was amused too, eyes sparkling with mirth. “I knew it.”

“Wait. you knew? You fixed it, you fixed the bet!” Debbie dragged the protesting Constance away, sending a wink in your direction. The rest of them had made it over to the kitchen by now, Tammy rolling her eyes with a ‘jeez, about time,’ and Rose giving a shriek as she spotted you.

“Lou’s got herself a girl,” she sang, Aminta joining in. Daphne and Nineball sported twin smirks as they passed by, giving you a little salute.

“Come on,” Lou whispered in your ear, making you shiver. “Let’s go out.” You felt her arm tighten around your waist, leading you towards the door. Passing by the group, you chuckled at their cheers, shaking your head when Lou leveled a mock glare at them. Feeling the warmth bubbling in your chest chasing away the guilt of the past months, you reached for her hand and interlaced her fingers with yours.

a/n: title from ben platt’s ‘honest man.’ hope you enjoyed! comments, reblogs, asks, etc. are always welcome :)

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please do not repost, reproduce, copy, or take from my work in any way without express permission. thank you!

[t0wnspersonb]

See You Again (Tendou Satori x Reader)

Word Count: 2,354

Warnings: mentions of drugs, alcohol, yakuza, suggestive language, bad language, my shit writing

Summary: As the daughter of a yakuza boss there are certain things you must uphold to, but when a night out at the club comes around, you find yourself being saved by the son of a rival clan. After a quick chat, you find yourself completely enraptured by him, and you can’t help but want to see him again. 

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Anonymous said:

Tendou meets someone whos kinda slightly insane and is a Yakuza boss, y'know shady type stuff. Can you write something where they kind of obsess over eachother and it's like a match made in hell? Thank you so much for your time. ❤️❤️😈

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This is part 1!!! I’ve decided to make this story two parts, so stay tuned for part 2! I really enjoyed this idea of a yakuza!Tendou. I definitely tweaked it quit a bit, I hope you don’t mind too much anon! 

I’m still writing out some requests so please be patient with me! I know I haven’t posted anything new recently and I’m so sorry for that! Life has been so busy for me. 

I hope you guys enjoy this one and please let me know what you think! 😊😊😊 I hope you guys have a wonderful week!

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The atmosphere thumped around you violently. Filled to the brim with alcohol and smoke; violently shaking you with strong vibrations as you swayed back and forth to the music. 

 Sweat and cheap perfume filled the space within your nose, but that was a given. You could feel a trickle of sweat sliding down the back of your neck, matting strands of hair to your overheated skin. 

 Bodies were pressed close together, grabbing and grinding against anything that moved. 

 You could feel a hand sliding against your waist, tugging you closer to the body pressed tight behind you. The person’s lower half pressed against the curve of your ass.

 Your eyes flashed open. Your hand that was held in the air lowered, your drink sloshing out of the cup and dripping down your fingers. You could feel your face twisting in disgust as you easily jabbed your elbow into their ribs, separating the two of you.

 You glanced back at the male that was wincing in pain, glaring at you accusingly. You rolled your eyes before shoving your body through the crowd of people, making your way off the dancefloor.

 The group you had come with were still situated in a booth at the corner of the club. The seats were sticky against the bare skin of your thighs, either from spilled drinks or another substance that you would rather not think of.

 Typical club atmosphere. 

 “Wanna do a line?” one of the males asked, looking at you with glazed eyes. 

 This was another thing that was typical in this atmosphere; it was entirely predictable, and while it came with the territory, it was entirely boring.

 “No.” you said curtly, preventing your face from morphing into a look of complete disgust. 

 “Don’t you know? Daddy will get mad if he found out his little princess was doing drugs.” another voice chimed in.

 You rolled your eyes. “You forget that he would throw your ass dead in a ditch somewhere. Know your place.” You sneered.

 For a moment, the air around the booth was thick with tension, your piercing gaze could put Medusa to shame as you stared down the two males that had decided to speak to you. 

 “Calm down killer,” a large hand rested against the top of your head, ruffling your hair. You huffed, swatting the hand away in annoyance. “Honestly though guys, show a bit more respect towards our next clan head. If Boss doesn’t throw your ass dead in a ditch, you know that she will.”

 “Forgive us Little Lady.” they bowed their heads towards you. 

 You snorted, waving them off as your eyes glanced around the room.

 The tension lifted easily, everyone getting back to their side conversations that they were doing beforehand.

 Leave it to one of your father’s direct underlings to stick up for you. 

 But it was entirely appreciated, although you would never say those words aloud. To survive in this world, you had to command respect from those around you, it was one of the many lessons you were taught growing up.

 Being the head’s daughter came with its own set of rules, and the fact that you were going to inherit it all, well, you had to be cautious about certain things.

 Which is why one of your father’s direct underlings went with you and other clan members to the club tonight. For the most part, the clan was completely fine with you taking over after your father retired, there were others that were a bit skeptical, you would be the first female head. The slight doubts and the teasing forced your hand to be, well, a bitch. 

 You were fine with that though. 

 “What the fuck are they doing here?” 

 You frowned at the statement, your eyes flickering across the room to see why everyone at the table was now on edge. 

 Nothing seemed out of place…

 Oh. 

 Your eyes zeroed in at the entrance, the sea of bodies parting to make room for the group that was walking towards an empty booth.

 “This is neutral territory. They have every right to be here as we do. Don’t start any unnecessary shit.” Your father’s direct said firmly. 

 “I don’t give a fuck, they know we go to this club all the time, why the fuck… Little Lady is here too!”

 “It’s fine.” you said curtly, looking at your group. “It’s neutral territory, we all know the rules. They aren’t going to start a fight unless we provoke them. So, mind your business. Is that clear?”

 Despite the angry and suspicious looks from your group they all agreed in understanding. But despite your words, you were definitely concerned, you didn’t want any problems to come up. 

 It would be fine right?

 “I’m going to get another drink.” You muttered, sliding out of the sticky booth, your fingers adjusting your dress accordingly. 

 “I’ll go with yo-” 

 You held your hand up. “No need, I’ll be fine.” 

 You were already walking off towards the bar, ignoring the pointed and concerned looks from the table. 

 Tonight definitely wasn’t what you had planned. You figured that you would get drunk and dance, maybe find someone to hook up with, definitely wasn’t planning on having a rival clan show up.

 Fuck, you just wanted to go home now. 

 Your fingers tapped against the bar counter as you waited for your drink to be made, body swaying with the beat of the music.

 “You all alone sweetheart?” you could feel a hand wrap around your waist.

 You could feel your nostrils flaring in anger, tonight definitely was not your night. You glanced over to see a tall man staring down at you with a wide smirk, clearly drunk.

 If it was any other night you might’ve considered flirting with him, he wasn’t bad on the eyes, definitely not your type though. 

 “I’m with my group of friends.” You said curtly, wiggling your way out of his grip. “I’m just getting a drink.”

 “But you’re all by yourself… Did your friends ditch you? Wanna come hang out with me and my friends?” He grabbed at your wrist, yanking you into his body easily.

 You ignored the panic that started to bubble up in your chest. Your eyes flickered over to your booth only to find out that you were completely blocked from the booth’s view, meaning that your group couldn’t see you at all.

 “No thanks.” you snapped, attempting to yank yourself free from the male. His grip on your wrist tightened dramatically, causing you to wince in pain.

 “Come on sugar, don’t be like that. Let’s go have some fun yeah?” he peered down at you; face incredibly close to your own.

 Fuck. 

 This was so fucked. 

 He was way too big for you to handle yourself. 

 How were you going to - “I don’t think she wants to go anywhere with you buddy.” long fingers wrapped in white tape were suddenly placed on the male’s shoulder, easily pushing him to the side, exposing your savior to your wide, panicked eyes.

 Red, calculating eyes peered down at you, flickering across your face before sliding over to the male that was still gripping your wrist tightly.

 “You know you’re hurting her right? I think you should let go.” His large hand tightened on your assailant’s shoulder, causing the male to wince and release his grip on you immediately.

 “Who the fuck are yo-” You could visibly see the male gulp in fear, fully taking in the tall redheaded male.

 Tendou Satori.

 Of all the people to come to your rescue, it had to be him, didn’t it?

 Just your fucking luck.

 Tendou tilted his head to the side slightly, his gaze never wavering from his face. His tall stature stooped down lower until he was eye level with the fear-stricken man.

 If you thought that disgusting man was too big, you were clearly wrong. Tendou overpowered him completely.

 “F-Forgive me, Tendou-sama! I-I didn’t know she was your woman!” The man wailed.

 Your eyebrows raised up at his statement, his woman? Like hell.

 “Oh I don’t even know who she is.” Tendou said, his index finger tapping against his chin as he pondered aloud. “But you were clearly making her uncomfortable. Men like you… piss me off. So,” he grabbed the man’s shoulder once more, his eyes turning into slits, a sardonic smile covering his lips. “You should leave.”

 The man yelped, apologizing profusely before running out of the club.

 You blinked after him in confusion before sighing loudly, your body drooping as your heart rate began to thump at a normal level now.

 You grabbed your drink that was on the bar counter, chugging it down.

 What a fucking night. What a fucking joke.

 “Are you okay?” Tendou asked suddenly, now by your side.

 You jumped at his voice, thinking that he had already left. Your eyes slide over to him, he was watching you closely, a curious look coating his face.

 “I’m fine.” you said, tone short. “You can leave now.”

 You could see his lips twitch into an amused smile at your dismissal, his body shifting just a tad bit closer to you.

 “You might be able to order your clan members around doll, but last I checked I’m not part of your clan.” he chuckled deeply.

 You ignored the deep twist in your gut at the sound. 

 “I thought you didn’t even know who I was.” you mocked, body turning to face him completely.

 You’d be lying if you said you didn’t find Tendou incredibly attractive; because he was. You knew exactly who you were dealing with. The next head in your rival clan. The same as you. 

 This might’ve been the longest conversation that you’ve ever held with him though. Of course you knew of him, there were many times where he and his father had come to your estate to negotiate with your father. You also knew of him based on the various stories you’ve heard from your own clan and others.

 He was just as dangerous as he was handsome.

 A terrible mix.

 “I lied.” he said easily, red eyes shining in amusement. “I know exactly who you are Little Lady.”

 “So then you know that I’m not alone right?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

 He shrugged, waving down the bartender and ordering a drink. He leaned against the bar counter easily, almost looking completely out of place in this shitshow of a club. Your eyes scanned down his figure, taking notice of his attire. 

 He definitely looked out of place here. The dark suit clung to his lean muscles, his tie loosened, and the first couple of buttons on his white dress shirt were undone, as if he had just finished a long day at the office.

 If his reputation wasn’t well known that’s probably what people would have thought until they got a closer look at him.

 His clan ring gleamed from the lights of the club, standing out amongst his other taped fingers. 

 “Like what you see?” he teased, looking over at you.

 You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself. Did you just come back from a meeting?” you asked, taking a sip of your new drink.

 “Wouldn’t you like to know.” he said, an eyebrow quirking up. 

 You huffed in annoyance; he had a point though. You wouldn’t want someone from an outside clan knowing your business.

 “So if you’re with your people, why didn’t they save you from that guy?” he asked curiously.

 “I could’ve handled it myself.” You said immediately. “I’m not some helpless little girl.”

 You knew how to handle yourself that much was true, but you knew that there was an obvious difference. Even though you could handle weapons, and had combat training, per orders from your father; you were still a girl. You could still be easily overpowered by males much larger than you. You weren’t stupid, you knew how to pick your battles.

 “Aren’t you though?” Tendou’s eyes slid down your figure, drinking you in completely, shamelessly.

 You could feel your thighs clenching together unconsciously. His gaze burned your body, made you incredibly hot, but also made you feel incredibly exposed.

 Maybe you didn’t know how to pick your battles.

 “I’m not.” You argued, mentally swearing at yourself. You did sound like a child, a stupid little girl in the eyes of your rival.

 “You would be with me.” he answered simply, eyes darkening dramatically. His body turned towards you now, his long fingers grabbing at a strand of your hair, rubbing the strands between taped fingertips. 

 His eyes bore into yours, as his fingers moved from your hair to run carefully against your neck and jaw, carefully cupping your chin between his thumb and forefinger.

 Your breath hitched, your body breaking out in a cold sweat as you stared back at him; prey caught between the hands of a predator.

 “What do you say? Want to test my theory little girl?” he murmured, eyes flickering down towards your lips as they parted.

 Your mind went blank.

 What the fuck was this?

 This sudden desire for the tall red headed male? 

 There was never a moment in your life where you felt weak, until now. You had never felt small in your entire life, even when you were a little girl. Your father had raised you to be strong, raised you to be the tallest person in a room full of males.

 So then why… Why was Tendou able to reduce you in such a way? 

 He made you want to cling to him, he made you desperate for him, and that was obvious in the way that heat pooled in your lower stomach, obvious in the way that your thighs clenched together tightly.

 His eyes flickered behind you, his grip on your chin releasing as he stepped back, grabbing his drink off the bar.

 “Maybe some other time. I’ll see you around little one.” he said, his face entirely amused as he walked off.

 What -

 “Little Lady! Are you okay!?” 

 Oh.

 This definitely wasn’t your night. 

 But now… you definitely hoped to see him around again. 

[emptycanvasposts]

Did You Kiss Him?|| JJ Maybank x Reader

Summary: JJ Maybank known for flirting with everyone but what everyone doesn’t know is that he really only has eyes for y/n. At a boneyard party to kick off the beginning of summer JJ sees y/n flirting with a touron and it makes his blood boil. Thinking irrationally, JJ goes and does something stupid but y/n is there to pick him back up and put together the pieces.  

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: weed use, underage drinking, fluff

A/N: Here comes the JJ fic that I’ve been promising! I know it took me a while but I’m finally posting it and I hope y’all enjoy it! Thank you insanely much to @maybankslut for reading through it and giving me some encouragement that I desperately needed to finish writing it! Let me know what y’all think!

The Boneyard. The only place that you could find kooks, pogues, and tourons alike willingly together. It was the first party since the end of school and you were with your friends, the pogues, setting up the kegs and moving sticks and logs around to start a fire to kick off the party. 

The first boneyard party of the summer is always something that excites you. You had gotten ready with Kie and Sarah at your house earlier that day. You were wearing your cutest pair of distressed high waisted shorts and white tube top, ready to have the best summer ever. This was going to be the best summer for you, Kie, Pope, Sarah, John B, and JJ. 

As the party started, you saw John B and Pope handing out drinks at the keg, Kie talking to some people by the bonfire probably about saving the ocean no doubt, and then there was JJ, flirting with the tourons as usual and no matter how much you convinced yourself otherwise it made your heart hurt. Chugging the rest of the drink you were holding, you made your way to JB for him to give you a refill with a smile on your face putting the thought of JJ in the farthest parts of your brain for the rest of the night. 

Throughout the night you found yourself talking amongst some tourons and even some kooks. And after way too many drinks you were stumbling a lot. Noticing you stumbling, a touron you had talked to earlier came over to help you sit by the fire. He began to make subtle flirts with you and as y’all were talking you felt yourself giggle at a good bit of the conversation you were having. 

JJ was watching as you and the touron laughed and flirted with each other. Even with the alcohol and weed buzzing through his system, he couldn’t stand the sight of you flirting and getting close to another guy. Standing next to John B who was mid-conversation, JJ turned to him and told him, “I gotta go, I’ll see ya later.” With how he was feeling he definitely didn’t want to go to the Chateau, he was so pissed and done with the No Pogue on Pogue macking rule, especially after seeing you all over some random guy knowing you’d probably be there later that night. Without even thinking he just walked, and walked, and walked, all the way to the last place anyone would think he would go. 

You watched as JJ had walked off, not thinking anything of it since you promised yourself you wouldn’t get caught up in your feelings about him tonight. Leaving the guy at the fire you walked over to JB, “Where’d JJ go?” you asked him. John B smiled at you saying, “He just said he had to go and took off. Guess he forgot something.” You looked at him, your face drooping slightly and said, “Oh.” Knowing if you stood there and thought about it for too long you’d ruin your night, you went grab another drink and sit back on the log with the touron. 

After a few more drinks you decided to head home. As you started to walk away and head to your house the touron stopped you asking if he could walk you and not wanting to be rude you said sure and started your walk. Living only a few houses down made the walk a whole lot better. Along the walk, you and the tourist made jokes and laughed with each other, talking about different things to do on the island and what not. Getting to the front door of your house, you turned to the tourist saying, “Well this is my stop,” with a chuckle. Looking at you the tourist gave a smile saying, “I had a really great time with you at the party,” and after those words left his mouth he slightly inched closer to you and leaned in as if he wanted to give you a kiss. Knowing he was absolutely the last person you wanted one from, you grabbed the door knob to your house saying, “I’m so sorry i made you feel that this was going somewhere in that direction, but I’m into someone else,” and left him in the front of your house as you went inside. 

Making it inside your house, you walked to the back and into your bedroom. Grabbing a tank top, a bra, and a pair of panties, you made your way to the bathroom next to your room to take a shower. Getting into the shower you stepped into the hot stream feeling it soothe your tense muscles. After getting out and dressed you laid down in bed, still feeling like the room was spinning from being so drunk you passed out.

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Rolling over, still feeling the slight buzz of alcohol in your system, you knew you couldn’t have been asleep for more than a few hours. Sure enough checking your phone told you it was still only 4:30AM, but that wasn’t what surprised you. On your lock screen was displayed four missed calls and ten missed texts from JB telling you to get to the Chateau quickly, all from within the last thirty minutes. As soon as you read the messages you immediately called JB back hoping that everything was alright. 

“y/n, I need you here as soon as you can get here...it’s JJ,” John B told you as he answered the phone. Those words alone caused you to sober up. Grabbing a baggy shirt and pair of shorts you changed and grabbed your keys before heading out the door and to your car. Starting your car all you could think about was what had happened to JJ. Was he hurt? Was he sick? Was something terribly wrong? 

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You pulled into the driveway of the Chateau five minutes later and rushed inside. JB met you at the door talking to you before you got inside. “He looks really bad y/n. When he came back here after the party, I just knew he had gone and done something he shouldn’t have. He kept asking for you and wouldn’t calm down the slightest until I told him that I called you.” Stepping aside John B opened the door allowing you to get inside. 

JJ was sitting on the couch with a bag of ice on his stomach and a bag on his eye. You could tell he was in a lot of pain because every time he made even the subtlest movement he would wince. John B turned to you and whispered in your ear, “I’m going to go lay in my room and let y’all be alone. If you need anything just come let me know.” You looked at him and gave him a slight nod, knowing you wouldn’t need anything but silently thanking him anyway. 

Walking over to JJ, you sat next to him, “Why don’t we go to the bathroom and get you cleaned up Jay?” you asked him. He nodded slightly before moving over to the edge of the couch to get up, you could see the pain he was feeling as he went to get up and you pulled his arm over your shoulder to help him get up and over to the bathroom. Placing him on the toilet, you grabbed a towel, some band-aids, and some rubbing alcohol. 

Walking back over to him you squatted down to his level, putting some alcohol on the towel and rubbed it over the cuts near his eyes. JJ winced at the burn, his through his teeth when you rubbed over any of the cuts that hurt more than others. You bit down on your bottom lip every time he winced because you hated to see him hurt, even if you knew it would help him heal better in the long run. Putting the towel down on the sink, you moved your hands to the hem of the shirt he was wearing and slowly moved it up to pull it up and have access to his side. JJ looked down at you with wide eyes, genuinely confused as to why you needed to take his shirt off. “Jay, I’ve gotta see if there’s any more cuts or bruises so I can help you,” you looked at him with sad doe eyes, y/c/e  meeting his blue orbs. 

With an incredibly sad face he gave a subtle nod and you pulled his shirt the rest of the way over his head. Your face dropped slightly as you could now see the huge bruise on his ribcage that was already turning black and blue. Picking up the ice pack he had placed on the sink when y’all had gotten into the bathroom, you put it gently on the bruise. “Come on Jay, let’s go lay on the couch,” you told him with soft eyes and a soft smile. “Both of us?” he asked you his face uplifting slightly with what you could have sworn to be hope. “Yea both of us, I’ll even cuddle with you since you’re hurt.”

Making your way back to the couch, you placed JJ gently back onto the couch, letting him get comfortable before laying on your side facing him. Even though you knew he probably wouldn’t answer to what he did or why he did it, just the feeling of him so close to you and the both of you vulnerable because of him being hurt you had to ask him. “What happened Jay? And I know you probably won’t answer and I don’t want to force you into answering me, I just hate seeing you hurt like this,” you looked into his eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. JJ looked down, you swore looking at your lips, before looking back into your eyes, “Did you kiss him?” and you could hear the way his voice broke slightly as he asked. “No Jay,” you started saying before finding some semblance of courage to tell him what had happened with the guy you knew he was talking about. Biting your bottom lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and looking down as you softly told him, “I-I only flirted with him because I saw you flirting with those tourons. And when he walked me home and tried to kiss me, I told him how I couldn’t because of there being this guy that I like even more than words can describe,” looking up into his eyes as you said the last few words. 

JJ smiled as big as he could before cupping your face with the hand that had been resting by his side and pulled you into a fierce and desperate kiss. At first you were surprised by his actions but as soon as you comprehended that his lips were against yours you melted into him. Moving your lips against each other felt perfect and like it was meant to happen, you fit together like you were meant to be together. JJ softly ran his tongue against your bottom lip and you opened willingly, your tongues massaging one another’s perfectly. He tasted of weed, beer, and spearmint and you were getting drunk off of it. As the kiss started to get slightly more heated, you ran your fingers through his hair pulling slightly and JJ let out a soft groan at the feeling. 

Pulling away from each other only after feeling like neither of you had any air left in your lungs, you rested your forehead against his. “I was hoping that the person you told him you liked was me,” he said slightly out of breath and with a nervous chuckle, “because wow. I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to do that.” You gave him a huge smile and laughed softly, “Actually I think I can because I’ve been waiting to kiss you since the moment I met you JJ Maybank.” 

JJ pulled you in for another kiss, this one not as desperate but no less passionate. “I hope I lived up to your expectations because I can promise you this is not going to be the last time we share late night kisses,” he said after he pulled away with a slight smirk. JJ wrapped his arms around you and you curled into the embrace, your head resting on his chest but careful not to lean too hard against his bruises. 

“Jay, I know that we’ve still got a lot to figure out and as long as I am with you, I know that we can figure anything out. But for now, can we just hold each other and sleep in each other's arms?” you asked him softly. “Of course y/n. Anything for you sweetheart,” he told you. 

Curling up in his arms, pressed against his body, you soon felt the bliss of sleep starting to take over your body. As you were falling asleep you felt JJ press his lips softly against the top of your head and heard the soft sound of his voice say, “I love you y/n.” Smiling at what you hoped were his words and not the call of sleep to your mind and body, you fell asleep peacefully and blissfully.

[maladaptive-ninja-returns]

Dawn (5)

Loki x fem!Reader

ONE/TWO/THREE SHOT

Warnings:hurt, danger, wild beasts

Summary: A truce to end all wars leads to an alliance between Earth and Asgard in the form of Loki marrying a mortal. None of them what this. None except fate.

Word Count: Whenever my brain is excited I dance. Today I danced- it was the worst but I had fun- because I had an off from work. And because I knew I was going to write :D Yayy!!! People should not see me dancing when I am alone. Especially when I am in the kitchen waiting for the water to boil. No wonder that stray cat has a weird look on her face whenever she comes by for some milk and I am in the kitchen.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"You do realise I am being kept alive for negotiations. So, it wouldn't kill to give me a cloak at the very least! I am freezing here!"

"Then why did you rip your skirt apart!"

"Are you kidding me?! Can you not see my legs?!!! They cannot handle the itchy fabric, you dumbfuck! Look at all the redness! Now get me a goddamn cloak!"

The stubborn stares go on till the guard decides to give up and get out of the tent for five minutes of silence. "Do not run because we will-"

"Do I look like I am in shape to run? DO I?!!"

The orc gurgles in irritation before stomping out and you get down to work.

It was not easy to tear into the fabric with the hidden knife strapped to your thigh. But once the first slit was made, the ripping was easy. Something you had learned while hanging out with Sybll was the sturdiness of the Vanaheim fabric that you were wearing. It has three layers. The first one being cotton harvested in the local fields that lets the legs breathe. The third and the innermost one is the silk woven by the silkworms cultivated by the royalty. But the second layer is the most interesting one. This used thin stretchable threads to wire a protective sheath around the cotton and thus the body. The thread work is done almost like body armour, loose enough to breathe in, tight enough to leave no room for error. But there is another thing about these threads that is the most crucial thing to getting you out of here. They have high tensile strength.

Your hands have already got to work to get those threads apart. Surprisingly it is easy to do so once you realise it is all one huge strand going about. It is hard to slash it into multiple pieces but your knife seemed to have done half the job for you. One end of the strands go to the end of every lamp and candle- even the oil lamps- in the tent, tied together by the other end to meet one thread that you tie around your fingers just when the orc enters the tent.

You are quick to straighten your back and look down on him. “Well?”

“Master says you can survive the night. If you don’t he’ll get you a coat.”

Son of a-

“Okay,” you shrug, getting up and picking the remnants of your dress in your hand before walking towards the opening of the tent, “come on then.”

“You are not going anywhere, missy,” the ugly creature growls, trying to stop you by placing his arm in between you and the path to the opening.

“Thanks to your master, now I have to pee because of the cold. And trust me this won’t be the first time I do it tonight.”

The orc has a shade of confusion and fear colouring his face that is followed by hues of hesitation. “Unless you want the tent to reek of piss,” you add, making it easier for the orc to huff and growl before walking in front of you.

Wrapping the remnant of you the poofy part of your dress around your shoulders, hiding the string in your hands that are thin and transparent enough to not be seen.

The cold air outside brings some relief along with a pit of anxiety in your stomach as you watch many more orcs sitting around the fire while many other armoured ones roam about other tents, growling, gambling, drinking and causing as much of a ruckus as they could. 

A couple of wild eyes look at you from one corner or another, forcing you to tuck the ripped fabric closer to you. Some try to stand in your way and watch as you squeeze through whatever narrow passageway they leave for you, all the while letting you curl a few more strings by the poles that housed the burning torches.

A couple more tedious steps and a racing heartbeat, and you are by the edge of the forest, searching for a good vantage point.

"Don't go too far. I will catch you," the orc grunts at you. 

You give him a stink eye before taking a few more steps uphill within the trees. "Keep an eye out for any perverts or animals," you order the creature, who in turn scoffs and spits on the ground.

"Great. I would rather be eaten by a wild boar than be kept prisoner," you mutter loud enough for the orc to hear and scratch his bald head, ponder upon it and then turn around in disgruntled annoyance.

The moment his gaze has averted, you drop the fabric from around you and pick up the mess of the threads. It is a miracle that none of the connections seems to have broken yet. 

Okay, here goes nothing.

Wrapping the bunch around your palm, you gather enough air in your lungs and yank the strings running down towards the tents, trying your best not to grunt or scream in agony the threads put on your palm.

There is some movement. And then there is a faint sound of something snapping. What follows is a ball of fire going up in the air where you were being held against your will. And yelling. Lots of yelling.

Gradually the fire is being seen in more tents, orcs and white elves running around trying to make sense of the mayhem.

The orc that has accompanied you watches the fire, a layer of a certain fear building in his eyes. He starts to turn around but is stopped with a dagger to his throat.

One blow to the throat and then make sure you take the weapon out. Let them bleed to death. Just like Natasha taught you. You hesitate to take the dagger out but are promoted to do so- with a light scream- when the orc tries to claw into your arm, bringing his own death unto himself faster.

It is disgusting; the gargling, the trembling body that collapses on the ground, the failed attempt of him reaching out for you with eyes that are about to pop out while he drowns in his own blood. It is disgusting but you cannot seem to take your eyes off the helpless figure of that creature. With zero ideas about what your subconscious is thinking, a step is taken towards the writhing body till you can hear cries coming closer to the edge of the forest, forcing you to come out the trance and run into the deep for your life.

.

Sybll does not see it coming. The orcs or their attacks. She knows she isn't alone in the forest but she does not realise it will be the orcs that she will run into while searching for Y/N.

No words are exchanged. No greetings or warnings. Just the exposed dirty fangs of the emotionless creatures bared at her as she tries a protection spell. It does work, but only against the first attack. She knows the only option she now has is to run.

Oh, spirits of the forest, help me!

It does not take much time for them to catch up to her, surrounding her to play with her before they can feast on her in whatever sense they want to.

The first orc to step towards her- while the others howl and hoot with a sense of victory- disappears with a black whirlwind that comes and goes in the blink of an eye.

It confuses the orcs, making them look all around them before one of them tries to go for Sybll. This time too, the black whirlwind comes and takes this one. Now, the fear in those yellow eyes is real. The fear of the unknown striking from the darkness.

But it doesn't take a while for them to witness the golden eyes glimmering in the darkness at them, seemingly floating in the black as it watches them, their every step, every little ounce of fear trickling down their murky bodies.

The strikes happen without a warning. Before she can blink, the orcs are gone. All that is left of them is an arm dumped at her feet.

She never sees it coming. The predator or the prey.

.

It is getting harder to breathe. The running and the fear that is burning you inside out are not working too well with your tired limbs. It is hard to suppress the clamorous breathing when you hide yourself behind a tree. The cacophony of the party searching for you comes and goes from a distance, adding certain minutes to your life. It is a boon that the moonlight cannot reach down to the ground in here, making it easier for you to hide or walk about without being seen. What your frail little heart does not contemplate is that the enemy has thought of the same.

Once the silence seems to have returned around you, you get up and make your way towards the edge of the cliff where the moonlight seems to be filtering through the leaves and trees. Need to find a way back. Need to find a way back. Oh, Gods, I hope Sif and the others are okay. I’m sure they’re okay. This idiot just wanted me. Yeah, yeah, they are definitely okay. Didn’t see them back at that camp so-

A snap of a twig sounds somewhere behind you just when you reach in the clearing, realising the vulnerability as the moon makes your skin glimmer under its borrowed light.

“I love the attempt, my dear,” Torbarik’s voice comes from the edge of the forest before he steps into the light, “but you should have thought this through.”

Six elves just like him, three on either side come out behind him, their weapons thirsting for some blood in those itchy hands.

“I did, actually, think this through.” You did not. “Either I reach back to my family safely or you, Torbarik, will die by their hands when they come for blood for my death.”

Torbarik’s thick brows rise a little in mild surprise, his eyes moving between you and the thousand feet deep valley behind you. “Do you really want to kill yourself?” he mocks you, chuckling at your futile attempt to threaten him.

“I would rather die than live in your-”

“Is that how badly you want to get out of your marriage?”

That hits a nerve.

“Excuse me? This has nothing to do with my marriage.”

“Did he chuck you out of his room on your wedding night?” the elf guffaws and his men follow suit, rubbing you in all the wrong ways.

The fear that his elf had been inculcating inside you till now seems to be fading away as something else is starting to take place. Rage, probably.

“Stop it.”

“Is that what you said when he tried to have his way with you?” The laughter that follows itches every part of your brain.

You do not utter a word till they are done holding their stomachs. “What happened? Cat got your tongue?”

You do not blink and Torbarik, for the first time that night sees something feral shine from inside your eyes. “Say another word about Loki from your maggot-filled mouth and I will personally cut your tongue and feed it to you before slicing your throat and driving a blade right through your skull.”

They try to chuckle at the threat but the perilous aura surrounding you makes it difficult to do so.

Torbarik smiles and takes a step towards you, closing the distance enough for him to run a finger on your cheek. He does not show it but he can feel his insides tremble when you do not so much as change the pattern of your breathing on his touch.

“Turn a smidge more ferocious and I might start to do things to you that I have been thinking about for a while my dear,” he whispers to you.

It is hard to keep up the rock-like facade but you are lucky to be interrupted by a voice from the edge of the trees.

“Stop!”

All eyes turn to the voice, not being able to handle the shock to see you stand there.

“What in the nine circles of Hel?!” Torbarik is shifting his gaze between you next to him and you standing close to his guards. “Guards!” he yells at the elves to capture the one that just came out of the forest while you are stepping away from this one as your brain tries to take in your doppelganger.

The guards barely get close to her when they are thrown back into the clearing by huge black clouds growling and snarling at them.

Wolves!

With their teeth bared and their golden eyes sharp at their prey, they have their claws dug in the ground, waiting for something.

Oh. Oh, Gods. Oh my-

The doppelganger looks right at you and gives you a knowing smirk before softly declaring, “Árás,” and breaking all Hel loose.

The wolves jump at their prey. Agonising screams and cries fill the night and Torbarik watches with a newfound fear the end of his greatest men, his mouth agape, his skin whiter than it was before.

That is when he watches- from the corner of his eyes- your figure starting to run in the direction where your mirror image stands, giving in to his impulse and catching hold you buy your waist, before restraining you with a hand around your neck and the other arm around your torso.

“Let me through or she dies!” It is yelled more like a command than a request, of course.

The doppelganger takes a step in your direction. You can feel Torbarik’s erratic pulse in his hold around you when he pulls you a step back towards the edge of the cliff with him.

She steps, watching him before turning to you.

“I think,” she starts, looking down at your legs before catching your eyes again, “you do not realise how dangerous she is, Torbarik.”

And then it hits you.

Struggling with one hand, you use the other to fish underneath your dress, going for your thigh holster and feeling the cold hilt of your blade under your fingers.

The next bit happens in a flash. The distracted elf never sees the rage-filled stab coming for his thigh and ends up screaming. The pain loosens his grip on you, allowing you to stab back right by his lower rib cage and stepping away from him.

Even in the agony, his curses at you do not stop but for the moment in which green and yellow glow emanate from your doppelganger and in her stead stands Loki.

Torbarik is on the ground now, bleeding as he looks up in shock at Loki.

“Loki, my Prince,” he utters, wincing through the pain while trying to crawl towards the God, “I think there *grunts* might have been a mis-*inhales*- misunderstanding.”

Loki watches the elf with a blank expression before turning his head to watch you. Within a few steps, he is standing in front of you, looking down at your face, taking in every little scare and every bruise that has started to form. You can feel his gaze on every wound and spots of dried blood on you, unsure what he was going to do.

Loki’s hands are in the air around you as a black fur coat appears in his grasp that is wrapped around your trembling frame, restoring some warmth within an instant.

He does not shift his stance, but he does turn to look at Torbarik hiding a knife while trying to make his way to Loki.

“You hurt my wife,” Loki declares into the wind that has started to blow, “there is nothing we can work around now.”

With that declaration, he whistles, and the wolves come back already hungry for some more violence.

“Loki, n-no,” Torbarik stammers at the sight of the fanged beasts slowly making their way towards him, “we can have a t-truce!”

“Taka hann í burtu,” Loki announces to the wolves, stopping Torbarik’s heart.

Torbarik begs for mercy as the wolves drag him into the forest by his legs, the sounds going away with them; for good.

Once the silence resumes, Loki turns back to look at you. The wind is bringing with the smell of moist soil from a place that seems to have witnessed fresh showers. He does not realise soon enough that you are still in a little shock, looking at him to make sure he really is standing there.

“Y/N,” he finally speaks, “are you all right?”

The pent up emotions have no place for a release but the eyes. And so they rise up with the moisture, waiting on the edge to fall at a moment’s notice.

“You came.” Your voice trembles and it scares you that it does, forcing you to take in as much air as you can.

“Why would I not?” he is surprised. “Did you have doubts?”

You stop breathing, going blank for a few seconds. “A little?”

All he does is smile, giving you soft eyes. “Come on, let’s get you back to the pal-”

“You’re wearing black. Is this a stealth suit of sorts? Is that a braid? In your hair?”

Your voice is soft and filled with curiosity. Loki realises you have never seen him in this attire before. Neither have you seen those braids in his hair.

“Yes. And yes,” he answers patiently, not realising how much he is liking this.

“I like it,” you reply, your eyes still stuck on his braid running from one side of his head down the length of his hair, “it looks really nice.”

Your voice says that but your face somehow feels it is in pain. And just as Loki is about to ask you, he feels his body jerk back a little when you step in to wrap your arms around his torso.

You do not know if he approves of this, but you do know that you need this right now. Just a few seconds till your body calms down and regains some sense. And the will to walk without any breakdowns that you are not made aware of beforehand.

It is a need for you but it is a confusing surprise for Loki. He does not remember the last time he was hugged. He is sure it must have been Frigga on the other end some ages ago though any memories of that love are nothing but a blur. He has never had a touch stop his breath like it does today. And this? Your gesture of embracing him as tightly as you can, leaning on him for some sort of comfort after being chased by danger sends his conscience into a slow whirlpool of its own. That whirlpool, instead of sucking something in, seems to bring out this unexplainable warmth in his chest that he has never felt before. How could he? He has not been hugged like this before. And so, the God of Mischief is left speechless, standing at the edge of the world with a human, making him do the one thing for which he cannot give himself a rational explanation.

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you back; feeling the glow in his chest grow denser and brighter by the second. His hand rests on your head, caressing it, feeling lighter just by that action. At that moment he knows.

He knows what is the one thing he is going to care for till the end of his life.

[imnotwolverine]

The marriage pact - Red alert

Henry Cavill x OC Alice - multi-chapter

< Part 22 | Part 23 Red alert | Part 24 >

Disclaimer: A little naughty (maybe not entirely PG13? What do you kids watch these days anyways?) and a bit of travel sickness 

Author’s note: 🔥(That’s all I have to say) 

Word count: 1.919

(Link to my Masterlist)

Dear readers,

I never thought I would come to say this, but I think I’ve learned to appreciate the cold. I’m still not a great fan of it, let that be clear. But there’s something quite funny about the routine you build around such extreme temperatures. Digging yourself out of your trailer? Check. Doing jumping jacks while letting your dog pee in the snow? Check. Ice fishing and making Maple Syrup Taffy (which I adore by now)? Check.  

Today is our last day here in Canada and I’ll miss the polite fun folk we have met, the film crew whom are absolute rockstars no matter how extreme the cold got and I’ll most definitely NOT miss the trailer we lived in. Three broken heaters. A leaking shower. A bed that was barely large enough for me to stretch my legs (poor chocolate cake had to almost sleep folded in half) and no place to properly dry your clothes meant it smelt like old fart if you didn’t light some scented candles.

But no more old farts! We are going home!

See you soon dear parents, friends and other good acquaintances. I can’t wait to share all my stories with you in person!

Ali

‘Oophh..I’m not feeling so well Hen.’ I croaked, gripping the arm rest of the airplane seat tightly. I felt about as green as the puking bag I held in my other hand, ready in case my body would no longer hold in the two puny sandwiches I had for breakfast.

Henry rubbed a strong hand over the nape of my neck, cooing some comforting words in my ear over the loud noise of the plane engines and storm outside.

And…DROP…there went the plane again, my bowels drifting for a few milliseconds too long, making the bile rise in the back of my throat. Shaking my head in terror I opened the bag, trying my utter best to breath in deeply through my nose.

Somewhere in the racket of the aerial doom I could hear the quiet whining of Kal, the poor dog folded in between Henry’s legs.

Quite a pair we were, hmm? Scared Kal, sick Alice.

Slowly I felt my breathing calm, the bile sinking back where it belonged, the cold sweat on my skin drying somewhat.

‘Please tell me it..’

DROP. The plane made another dive through the air, my previous green hue right back where it was just moments ago. My face got sweaty again and my breath choked as I kept my mouth clenched tight to prevent any bile from exiting any orifices. 

Usually I was pretty okay with flying. But this? This?! Oh my word. This was something else! I wasn’t even sure if Henry was an actual human, his body calm and relaxed, voice soothing. Like nothing was the matter and we weren’t right now looking right in the gaping mouth of a hell storm, ready to be devoured.

‘I can’t do.. This.’ I gulped, sitting back up and looking white as a sheet, my eyes trying to focus on the chair before me.

‘You’re doing real well.’ Henry praised, his warm hand pushing some sticky strands of hair away from my face. ‘Deep breath in and puff puff puff out.’ He puffed along with me and the very act made me somewhat forget about our predicament. I swallowed back another bit of bile and quickly looked over at him, his mouth still shaped in a little “o” as he helped me puff. ‘I’m not having a baby over here Hen.’ I sniffled, then felt my body protest again, the bile jumping back up in my throat.

Henry laughed. ‘If it works, it works. Besides, a little practise is always good.’ I could clearly distinguish the humour in his voice but feeling sick as a dog I first needed another one of those long inhales followed by a series of puffs before I could look back at him. With an exasperated look I puffed into his face, making him laugh even harder. ‘You’re nearly there baby!’ He cheered, taking the piss with me a bit. I growled and shook my head in annoyance. ‘You…’

‘Just another..four more hours.’ He winked, pointing at the screens that showed the flight time.

‘I hate you right now..*breath in* Cavill *ppfffff pfff pfff*’

‘Just wait until I put an actual baby in you.’ He whiskered huskily in my ear.

Oh how glad I was that nobody could hear us over the loud racket. That nobody could hear my stomach make an actual somersault - both in a good and bad way at the same time. And oh how glad I was I wasn’t physically able to launch myself at him right now, because truly..this man? This man was the greatest of teasers and right now he could most definitely need some..well..let’s say “putting in place”?

—

‘Home sweet home!!’ Henry turned the key of the blue slated house, the hour late and Kal lagging behind us as he was making a reintroduction with the front yard. Tail wagging, nose sniffing, he was acquainting himself with his new home. Our home. Our very own home. A very empty home, too.

We had not really had any time to move and buy furniture, so right now the large house only had a few basic pieces; a bed, a small couch, a kitchen table with two chairs and a few lights. Henry flicked his hand over the light switch to turn it on, but darkness did not evaporate with the burst of yellowish light. It remained dark instead. Grumbling Henry took his phone from his back pocket and used it to shine some light on the light switch.

‘Strange.’ He grumbled, looking over at me as I was calling Kal inside. Stepping in behind him I noticed that something was amiss. ‘Missing a spark there, sir?’ I winked and just like that his annoyance was forgotten, his face breaking into a smile. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a romantic night in the dark ages, my fair lady.’ - ‘Mmm…sounds terribly romantic.’

Closing the door behind us and following Henry’s flashlight into the kitchen, our feet echoing loudly in the empty hallway, we found some groceries his parents had done for us earlier that day. We filled Kal’s bowl, opened the bottle of red wine we found and decided to drink our first celebratory glass of alcohol in bed, the house being a bit chilly as the heating also seemed to have died along with the electricity.

‘I think the dead heater has cursed us.’ I mumbled, trembling under the sheets, body propped up against the headboard and Henry pouring us two glasses. He chuckled. ‘We’ll make sure to sacrifice a virgin later. But first things first; a toast!’

I laughed and clinked glasses with him, the mattress shifting as he moved in close beside me, his lips quite instantaneously finding mine before I could even take a sip. ‘Mmmm..it may have taken me a good 37-ish years to woo you, dear Alice, but please let me tell you that I am the happiest man in the world right now.’ He kissed me again, more passionately.

I chuckled into his kiss, pulling back slightly. ‘I am glad about that too. Even as I lay here in all my clothes, shivering under a blanket, stinking of airplane and probably tasting of bile, too.’ I winked at Henry, his features half-lit by the light of his phone’s flashlight that he had now placed on the foot end of the bed. He laughed and pressed another kiss on my lips. ‘Oh no. Nothing can quite stop me from loving you, I’m sure. Absolutely..’ He pressed a kiss lower on my neck, his teeth gripping onto the neck of my comfy, but totally un-sexy turtleneck sweater. ‘Nothing.’ He growled, tugging at it playfully, making me laugh even harder.

We had taken only two more sips of our wines before we busied ourselves with reacquainting with another piece we had missed very much; his bed. Now, our bed. Limbs tangling together, lips locking, there were a few things that simply didn’t change. Henry was a bear in every..sense..of the word. Big, bulky, sweet, hairy bear hugs. 

And apparently next to family planning, long airplane flights ALSO got him terribly horny.

—

Squinting my eyes I looked to my side, finding a still asleep Henry entangled with my arms and legs. Which, in and of its own was quite unique as Henry was usually up way before I even managed to blink open a heavy eyelid. Grumbling I shifted my hip and felt something weird on my leg.

Was that a …SNAIL?

Squirming and huffing in disgust I quickly shot out of bed, only realising a moment too late what it actually was. Not a snail or anything of an animalistic nature. A condom. Gasping quietly I saw Henry wake up as well, his blue eyes immediately searching for me and finding me next to the bed. Quizzically frowning at me he grumbled. ‘Mmwhat is it?’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned, then saw what I was pointing at. The condom.

‘Oh..’ He blinked, picking it up with deft fingers, then blinked a few times more when he realised that it was not just a condom. It was a..broken..condom. We both held our breath, the last remains of sleep immediately lifted.

‘Holy crap.’ I gasped, our eyes meeting in a moment of silent understanding. Henry sat up and swallowe harshly. ‘I’m SO sorry. Oh..’ He quickly tossed the condom aside and pulled the sheets away, large crusty stains everywhere. ‘Oh god I’m so sorry Ali. I didn’t know..I…’ He gave me a pleading look, large hairy chest heaving with terror.

And yet, despite the fact this was not truly a funny thing, I laughed. ‘Oh my..’ I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. ‘Well that was an adventurous night, for sure.’ I said, slowly crawling back on the bed, evading the large crusty stain in the middle. Henry sighed and rubbed his face again. ‘Damn. Do you want to go to the pharma..-’

‘No.’ I cut him short. Our eyes met again and just like that another silent agreement was made, Henry’s pleading eyes melting into ones of tender love. ‘Really?’

I giggled and crawled into his lap, nuzzling his nose and enjoying the warmth of his arms as they wrapped around me. ‘Really Ali?’

‘Henry! Please do not make me regret a thing that feels good.’

Henry’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle. ‘So.. it’s okay?’

I nodded and looked deep into his ocean blue eyes. ‘To me it’s okay. Is it for you?’ I asked with honest curiosity, but I couldn’t keep a serious face for long when I saw Henry’s over enthused face. ‘Alice..Alice Alice Alice..is this what I think it is?’ He whispered, eyes large and expecting, his hands rubbing slow circles over my lower back. I grinned and nodded, shrugging ever so slightly. ‘It’s not like we aren’t on the same page. No matter what happens. We want this, right?’ - ‘Right.’ - ‘Then let this happy little accident make it so.’ - ‘Okay.’ Henry said, still coming up to speed with what we had just decided upon.

‘AAAHH!!’ He exclaimed rolling us over, the dirty sheets sticking to our bodies, making me laugh with joy. ‘I love you, I love you, I love you!’ He whispered with great contentment, his lips travelling down my jawline, pressing sweet kisses on every inch of skin he could find.

‘I love you too Henry. Now better warm me up before we’re going to probably have our coldest shower EVER.’

‘With pleasure.’  

--

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[barnesandco]

Seafarer

Loosely based on the following prompt by @drink-it-write-it​ :

“You said that I’d get to have you all weekend. Why can’t you just tell them you can’t go?”-“Because it’s my job, and it’s important.”-“And I’m not?”

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst, talk of groping.

A/N: I personally think this to be an embarrassing piece of work. Nothing more than an exercise in writing internal monologue, particularly of the sad variety. Sad both in terms of content, and quality. You have been warned.

“Sweetheart, open the door.” Bucky mutters, resting his forehead on the solid oak. He got back from his mission half an hour ago, and has spent that time standing at her doorstep, knocking, begging her to let him in. She’s pissed. Has every right to be, Bucky thinks to himself. He made her cry, after all. Left her crying.

“Go. Just go. Back to your apartment, the Compound, I don’t care. Why don’t you just go on another goddamn mission? You seem to love those.” She says, bitterness edging into her tone at his betrayal. Bucky swallows nervously, the lump in his throat becoming more prominent. He opens his mouth to answer, but his voice fails, leaving him gaping like a fish. He tries again.

“Darling, angel, doll-” 

“Don’t call me that. You don’t get to call me any of that after abandoning me when I needed you. Go away.” Comes the watery reply, her voice breaking off at the end, like she’s holding back more tears. Of course she is. Any girl stuck with a heartless jerk like him is bound to cry. He knows he can’t leave her like this. Not again. 

“I’m not going anywhere until we talk about this.” 

“Well then, you’ll be waiting a while.”

“Baby, I-”

“I told you to quit it with the pet names. I won’t tell you again. Fuck off, Bucky.” She orders, voice trembling, heart in her throat and hand clenching the doorknob, as if she’s seconds away from opening it and saying it to his face. Not that she’s in any condition to - tears staining a tale of sorrow down her cheeks, bottom lip shaking and bitten red with the effort of containing her rage. 

“I don’t-”

“Please.” She pleads, desperate now. She isn’t sure if she can resist his attempts to speak with her for much longer. Bucky sighs, defeated by the tormented request. It’s no use pushing further. They’re both too emotionally wound up to resolve their conflict reasonably. Why does he have to be the voice of reason? Screw reason.

Still, he turns and leaves, thundering down the stairs. All twelve flights of them. The elevator’s in perfect working condition, but he hates the damn things. There’s no escape route. Unhealthy for his neurotic claustrophobia, catastrophic for emergencies. Disaster waiting to happen. 

Much like him and her, he supposes woefully. Their relationship has always been a stormy one. A hurricane. One that she is both the centre of, and a sanctuary from, which, now that he thinks about it, are one and the same thing. It’s calmest in the eye of the storm, right? Suddenly, Bucky isn’t so sure anymore. Doesn’t have to be, really, he’s a soldier, not a sailor. He wants to be a lover, though. A good one. That’s all he was trying to do, when shit hit the fan that day.

“Bucky? What are you doing here?” She says, putting her bag down slowly, in awe of the sight before her. He’s standing in the tiny kitchen of her tiny apartment, next to a dinner-table set for two. A candle-lit dinner table. 

“Hi, sweetheart. Thought I’d surprise you.” He smiles sheepishly, coming closer to help her out of her coat. He bends down, unbuckles her shoes. She lets him, but his kindnesses don’t distract from the nightmarish nature of her time at work. 

“You've… succeeded.” Her lip wobbles dangerously, like a child on the verge of a tantrum. Bucky picks up on it immediately. It’s only been six months, but he knows her like he knows every fire exit in the building - it’s imprinted into his mind.

“What’s wrong? You look upset.” He asks, rubbing her arms gently. She shakes her head.

“It’ll ruin the mood. I shouldn’t talk about it right now. Let’s just enjoy dinner. Which looks delicious, by the way.” She gestures towards the table, where he’s laid out a lasagna she would’ve inhaled by now if she weren’t so upset.

“Baby, I can see something’s off. Come on, just tell me.” Bucky persists, hand at the small of her back guiding her to the sofa in the adjacent room instead. There are more candles here, lights turned down low, roses in as many vases as they own between the two of them. Looking at all the effort he’s put into tonight’s the drop that makes the bucket run over. The first tears, glimmering in the firelight, roll down her cheeks, as she begins talking.

He should have listened to her, he thinks as he steps out into the September night, bracing himself against the chill that’s already starting to settle in. His every misery begins and ends with this sentiment - he should’ve listened to her. Not pressed the matter. She would have talked when she was ready to. But he didn’t, and as a consequence, is now on the streets of Queens without any idea what to do with himself.

It’s late. Not too late, of course, Bucky would never want to disturb her while she’s sleeping. Would have waited till morning anyway if he wasn’t so anxious about the fragile state of their relationship after the fight they had before he left. But he didn’t. He came here, as soon as formalities like debriefing and cleaning himself up were settled at a break-neck speed. The sun was setting, then. It’s gone now, leaving only darkness punctuated by lampposts, shop signs, and the headlights of oncoming cars. So really, not much darkness at all. It’s only ten, still early, especially for New York, the city that never sleeps. He knows he won’t be able to sleep either, not tonight. The sound of her sobs from that night will haunt him. He recalls the three simple words that started the spectacle that’s driven him out at this hour.

“I got fired.” She says finally, wiping her eyes with the tissue he hands her. New tears immediately replace those she just erased, and from then onwards, it’s a hopeless cause. 

“What? Why?” He exclaims, shocked. More than shock, the vibrations of worry shake his system. For her, and on her behalf. She needs this job. Claims she does, anyhow. Bucky’s happy to provide her with anything she could ever ask for, he’s told her as much, but after much arguing, he has been made aware that that’s not how things work. At least not for her. She needs to stand on her own two feet, and if that means working herself to the bone, in addition to her post-graduate studies, then so be it.

“I slapped a patron. He came around the bar - it was a busy night - squeezed my ass and made some lewd comments. Nothing I haven’t heard before, been catcalled more than I can remember, but this was up close. And he touched me, which hasn’t happened before.” She explains, eyes downcast. His blood pressure skyrockets, and he sees red.

“I’m gonna kill him.” He snarls, immediately softening when her gaze turns to him, frightened. He thinks she’s afraid of him, although she would reassure him of the contrary, as she always does, if she was in any state of mind to do so. “I’m so sorry that happened to you.” He tries, gentle this time. She buries her face in his sweater, sobs into his chest. He can feel her chest shaking with the effort of her heaving cries. Bucky wraps his arms around her, heart in his throat at the pain he can physically feel through their points of contact. “Hey, hey, easy there. Calm down, sugar.” This was the wrong thing to say. She straightens up and faces him. 

“Calm down? You know what the manager said?” She asks fiercely. Resumes her furious rant when he doesn’t say anything. “He lectured me about the whole the-customer-is-always-right spiel, and how we have to put up with this stuff - as if he’s ever been groped - and then yelled at me for scaring clients. Then he called me a- a dramatic bitch and said I shouldn’t bother to show up to work tomorrow.“ She counts off the three points on her fingers, voice cracking at the end, and closes her eyes and breathes. She turns back to him. "So you see, Bucky, I can’t calm down.”

He grimaces internally at the reminder of the hurt she had exhibited. All the hurt he ignored. No, he most definitely will not be sleeping tonight. There’s no point in going back to his place in Brooklyn, or the Compound, like she suggested. Everything comes back to her. It has to. She’s the moon, and he is the voyager dependent on her for the tides that guide him to shore. She is also the shore itself - a safe place, somewhere to call home and build a life. Not for long, if they can’t resolve this argument. Their latest one. At the moment, he has only the dirty, echoing subway station, and the trains within.

The platform emits the perennial scents of urine and alcohol, and the drunk stragglers responsible for both having taken up their regular spots in the provided area. Lighthouses that repel those who surround them instead of attract them. A strand of hair comes loose from behind Bucky’s ear as a train rushes out from the tunnel to his right; he tucks it in its place impatiently, ice-blue eyes scanning the platform. The brakes screech as the doors open and the soft, robotic voice inside announces the station to its passengers. He throws caution to the wind and enters the train. He doesn’t know where it’s going, but then, he doesn’t know where he’s going either. Doesn’t need to, as long as it takes him away from everything. He’s good at that. Running away. He ran away from Steve at the Triskelion and in Bucharest. He ran away from her when she needed him, because he thought she didn’t.

“What is it, Sam?” He answers the phone, worrying his lower lip between his teeth. Closes his eyes as his teammate delivers the blow. The Avengers are needed,  somewhere in the world. Urgently so. “Do I have to? I’m in the middle of something.” He tells Sam, glancing over at her. She’s already figured it out. “Fine, fine. Yeah, I’m ready, give me a call when you get here.” Putting the phone down, he nervously runs his hands through his hair. “I- I have to go.” He says. 

“Where?” 

“Argentina. One week, tops. I’m sorry.” Bucky apologizes. It’s not enough to quell her concerns. Her pain. The torment he sees in her eyes. He wishes he could stay. Perhaps she’s better off without him, he considers.

“Stay. Please.” Clearly, she disagrees.

“I want to, doll, I really do. But they need me.”

“So do I.”

“Don’t do this to me.” He begs of her, because he can’t bear to see her like this. He’d give her the world if she asked, but at the moment, he can’t even give her the consolation she needs after a traumatic ordeal.

“Bucky, I don’t want to be the damsel in distress here, but I am in distress. I can’t cope with all the shit that went down today. That man- and ugh. Please, Bucky.” She’s pacing now, in front of the coffee table, and the tears are back in full force. Bucky averts his eyes.

“I wish I could, but Sam says-”

“Just tell him you can’t go. This one time.”

“I can’t do that. It’s my job, and it’s important.”

“And I’m not?”

Bucky thumps his head heavily against the window behind him. Closes his eyes against the onslaught of guilt and shame. He shouldn’t have left. Not then, with Sam, and not now, alone. He could have waited in the hallway. Instead he’s gotten on a train bound for nowhere, with nothing on his mind but the one person he can’t live without. Besides Steve, naturally. That punk is the bane of his existence, and Bucky wouldn’t want it any other way. They’re his people. The ones he needs to keep safe at all costs. Sam, too, occasionally, not that Bucky would ever tell him that. Evidently, he failed. He hurt her when he swore that he would be the one defending her from any such thing. 

Now here he is, in a train under the city he calls home, but feeling more homesick than he ever has. He never thought he’d fall in love this quickly. Six months is all it took for him to hand his heart over to a woman who seems hell bent on throwing it back in his face. He doesn’t blame her for rejecting his soul, broken and bruised as it is. He does blame himself for thinking that any balm that soothes those scars would last forever. Their courtship was too good to be true. He ponders this, and her tear-streaked face, as the train carries him deeper into a direction he does not care to go. He does not care to go anywhere she isn’t, however, the more he tries to return to her, the further he seems to drift away. Lost at sea, never to be found.

Taglist: @buckyreaderrecs @mermaidxatxheart @corneliabarnes

[dammitadolfnomorecake]

Once Bitten, Twice Stupid prt.6

When Keith and Shiro left, Lance breathed a sigh of relief. Hunk’s father had to order parts from Platt city, leaving the two brother to spend the night at one of towns inns. Dropping them off, with Hunk, at Hunk’s family garage had been the first relief, the second was dropping Pidge and all her crap off at her house, and third returning home to Blue and a nice bag of blood. Stressed from his lack of sleep and house guests, Lance had drained a whole bag without thinking, something he had done since the time his Mami had had a fall at the home. She scolded him for fussing over her far too much, Lance not wanting to leave her all alone, despite the fact she was only in hospital overnight with a sprained wrist. All his Mami’s friends at her home had been jealous when he’d returned the next day with the biggest bouquet of roses he could buy. Taught to share, each little old lady was given a rose and a kiss on the cheek, more than one aiming for a cheeky kiss on the mouth. His mother all smiles and laughter over the attention he’d received. His Mami had such a great support network there, and he’d really lucked out on her care.

With his hunger quenched, next came cleaning through the house. Shiro and Keith had left their room neat, beds remade and everything else in order too, like they’d never been there to begin with. Not that he was looking, but Lance didn’t find a single strand of stray hair on their pillows. Almost as if he’d housed two ghosts for a evening. Letting his room dry out, and actively avoiding the mess, Lance cleaned through the whole first floor before finally admitting to himself he was procrastinating far too much. Stupid blood. His fatigue had melted away, now he had far too much energy, having already walked into the wall, kitchen table, kitchen counter, accidentally lifted the whole sofa in on go instead of just the end to sweep, and tripped face first over his coffee table. All his movements and actions were amplified by the blood coursing through his system, kind of like how he imagined popping Ecstasy. It was like some cosmic joke really. The worst he could expect was severe flu like symptoms if he accidentally drank bad blood, maybe a day or two of cramping then right back to being stupidly healthy. Bruises, grazes, cuts and scrapes all healed within a day or two, depending on how much blood he’d consumed. His dumb arse had fallen down the stairs before, broken his leg, and taken three whole bags of blood to heal the damn thing. He couldn’t win with his glasses on, and he couldn’t win with them off.

Doing a quick tidy through of the top floor, Lance finally faced his trashed bedroom. What he really needed was a maid... except he didn’t want a stranger in his house, and he didn’t want a stranger in his how’d he touching his things. All his bedding needed to be washed, his mattress needed to be stripped of its waterproof cover then aired once the rain stopped. Blue had had a few “accidents” on his bed, his mattress protector was an idea he could proudly claim as his own. Waking up to entrails between his sheets and seeping into his mattress wasn’t his idea of a good morning, no matter how happy Blue was over her caught mouse. He simply couldn’t find it in his heart to be mad at her, she was only doing what came naturally, and he definitely preferred the mice dead to running around messing up his stuff. Shit, maybe he should just join a coven and make a nuisance of at some other vampires lair... only, he didn’t get along with other vampires for the most part, and shacking up with a werewolf was asking for trouble. He was 44, it was well past time to put his big pants on and deal with things like an adult.

*

Wednesday was supposed to be a good day. He’d finished one of the family cases he was working on, his new window was installed with a nice new latch, he’d spoiled himself with a rather expensive bottle of red, and he’d assured Hunk that’d contacted Shay to confirm dinner was still on. He’d forgotten until that morning, almost spamming her to explain and apologise. Thankfully Shay was the awesome soul she was, understanding after he’d explained about his broken window.

Then it all went to shit.

Stuck on an “urgent” call, Lance had made a mistake. He’d been talking with a mother trying to get sole custody of her three children, online, offering her his business number so she could call and get some free advice. Not even five minutes in, he could already see why she was finding it difficult. No judge was grant her custody when she was more concerned about the next needle in her arm than she was about her children. On his personal phone he’d already called the police to request a wellness check after he’d explained the situation, but as he waited for a response there, he was stuck with a raving lunatic yelling in his ear about how meth didn’t make her a bad mother. She hadn’t even noticed he’d put himself on silent as he’d made the call. It wasn’t something that left him warm and fuzzy inside, he genuinely wanted to help keep families happy, with an emphasis on what was best for the children involved. This wasn’t his first making this kind of call, but it never got any easier. The mother needed help, she needed someone to reach out their hand and help her, but the system could only do what it had the budget for. He’d had a similar case nearly a decade ago where the mother had attempted to murder her children rather than share custody with the remarried father. She wound up commuting suicide, something that weighed heavily on his mind each time this kind of situation came up. It was nearly an hour later that the police showed up, Lance listening to the whole thing until it finally got too much, and he had to hang up. Snuggling up for some serious cuddles with Blue, the TV played in the background just so he didn’t feel that prang of pain... until it finally became too much. Spurring an unplanned trip over to Platt for some serious hang time with his Mami.

As always, his Mami was happy to see him. She could tell immediately something was weighing heavily on his mind, unable to even fake a smile or politeness to the other residents. Feigning exhaustion, he’d “helped” his Mami back to her room, crawling into bed with her and settling himself with his head on her chest. Sometimes he wondered if he hadn’t developed properly after being turned so young. He didn’t fit the stereotype for his age bracket, nor did he fit the stereotype for a typical 26 year old. His Mami didn’t push for an explanation, instead she stroked his hair and held him tightly. After being turned, he’d suffered screaming nightmares for months. His Mami would climb into bed with him, holding him just like she was now.

Whether she’d forgotten, because as much as Lance was loathe to admit she’d been doing that much more often of late, or whether his brother also felt the need for a spur of a moment visit, but when Luis entered the room, his brother wasn’t pleased at all to see him there. Luis had been the first to cut him off. Maybe because he was the oldest, he headed our first to carve out a life for him and his wife Lisa. Luis knew he had above normal hearing, mumbling about how he was a money draining blood sucker. A bit rich coming from a man who chucked a sook over his inheritance from their papi. For the sake of their mother, Lance just wanted to get along, Luis ultra polite in front of Mami as he fussed over her, making Lance feel he didn’t have a place by her side.

The drive back was depressing, not even his usual playlist managed to make it bearable. Rax was working at Balmeria’s, meaning he had to go in and ask for the pump to be turned on, the little shit further pissing him off as he mocked him for his down mood.

The goddamn cherry on his shit-tastic day was arriving home to find his front door wide open, with none of the lights left on. This was how people ended up murdered. He was going to end up murdered... but after the day he’d had, maybe a little bit of murder would be the best thing for everyone. At least his house was in order if he was to meet his demise... his only regret would be leaving Blue... and Hunk and Pidge... and his Mami. For a dead man, he harboured a lot of regrets over his imminent death. Saying a prayer, he wasn’t sure if God had time for his type, but he hoped that maybe he did. He’d been a good vampire, never drank human blood, never attacked a human, went to church and loved his Mami... now he was off to be murdered and his body dumped in a rolled up carpet somewhere in the back lands of Garrison. What a depressing thought. Fuck it, if he was going to die, his glasses weren’t going down with him.

Leaving his glasses beside the front door mat, Lance stepped into his doom.

*

“Hello?! Can you please not murder me, I’ve had a shit day!”

Someone was in his house. He could tell from the smell alone there were two somebodies. His skin has prickled with goosebumps at the first sniffs of the scent.

“Look, I already know you’re here!”

Because talking to his murderers was just how he rolled. Following the scent to the living room, he found his room trashed. Great. Just. Fucking. Great. No power to the house meant no security alarm and no security alarm meant no alarmed Pidge, meaning no forthcoming rescue. No forthcoming rescue meant at least his friends would be safe, which was one small mercy.

“We’ve got you, bloodsucker”

Lance raised an eyebrow. A fucking hunter was on his doorstep, well, not literally but he’d been good, he should have had a few more years of safety with his alias. What really made his eyebrow raise was that despite being decked head to toe in black, that voice very clearly belonged to the “Emo Edgelord” himself, sir “I’m too much of a douche to drink your coffee without protest”, Keith. Behind him clad in an equally depressing outfit was Shiro. Talk about bad fucking karma.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about”

“You’re blood sucking scum, and we’ve come to bring your reign of terror to an end”

Holy fuck, Keith must have pop-cultured hard. The kid sounded like he was straight out the lowest budget slasher movie known to man kind. Ignorance was bliss?

“I’m not quite sure I know what you’re on about...”

“Shut up!”

“Look, dude. Take a chill pill. How about we talk? Look, the names Lance. I’m a lawyer, specialising in family law”

“You mean you rip innocent families apart! You gain access to their children and bleed them dry!”

“Um, no?”

“Don’t lie to me! I know you’re kind. What happened to your friends? What did you do to Hunk and Pidge?!”

What was he supposed to have done with them...?... right. Vampire. Dah... murderer, yep, right... pffft... He could laugh at how serious Keith was being if it wasn’t for the fact that they were indeed there to murder him

“They’re at home? I dropped Hunk off with, so maybe I should be asking what you did to him?”

“Don’t you turn this back on me, you abomination”

Lance crossed his arms in offence. He’d made them breakfast, they should be a little more appreciative

“I didn’t ask to be like this”

“So you admit it!”

Shiro obviously hadn’t trained Keith about how adults used their inside voices

“Stop yelling at me! Inside voice is just fine”

“Shiro, he knows us. He’s admitted what he is. It doesn’t deserve to walk this earth!”

“Keith...”

“Fuck this!”

Again with the yelling. Poor Blue was going to be scared with all the yelling

“So we can’t sit down and discuss this?”

“As Blades of Marmora, hunters of unwanted trash, our sworn duty is to destroy beasts like you! The holiest hunters of the Vatican, your blood will stain our blades!”

“My what now?”

“We saw your fridge of blood!”

Lance was starting to feel second hand embarrassment for Keith. He took stupid to a whole other level. He had the disadvantage when it came to the house layout, he had the disadvantage of being human, and he had the disadvantage of thinking with his anger and not his head

“Hurrah. I get blood packs from Platt”

Keith let out an angry snarl, lip raised... as if that could possibly be threatening?

“I’m going to kill you, before you take more victims!”

Keith threw himself towards Lance, twin blades sliding from his from his suit into his hands, silver glinting as Keith’s hands wrapped around the handles

“Whoa! Man, wait!”

Leaping back, Lance leapt too far, snacking his back hard against the hallway wall

“Scum sucker!”

“Time out!”

“Die!”

Lance had time to think “Oh, shit!”, as he ducked and rolled, wincing as the blades were embedded into the plasterboard wall

“Dude! My house!”

Leaping backwards into the living room, Shiro seemed pretty damn content watching Keith attempt to murder him

“Shut up!”

“Or we could talk?”

Keith snarled at him again, Lance really didn’t want to hurt the idiot. He was human... with a flick of Lance’s wrist he could snap Keith’s neck by accident. Holding his hands up, he backed up

“Would you just calm down before you destroy more of my house?”

The backs of his legs hit something, Lance tripping backwards like a moron

“Whaaaa...!”

Keith lunged forward, blades coming down at Lance’s face. With the most manliness of screams, Lance flinched at his impending death

“Keith!”

Called by the man formally known as his brother, Shiro, Keith paused. Lance laying there like a moron

“Let me do this!”

“Wait a second, he’s not fighting back”

“Because he knows it’s pointless!”

Well, if it was that pointless, Keith didn’t need his blades. Wrapping his hands around the blade, he pulled both from him Keith’s grip, throwing them blindly behind him

“Excuse me, I am right here! Why...”

“Oh, shut the fuck up!”

Dumb with anger, Keith swung at his face, hitting him fairly in his open mouth.

Lance didn’t know who was more horrified. Him for being punched in the mouth, or Keith who’d cut his damn hand on Lance’s fangs. As the blood on his teeth touched his tongue, Lance’s eyes widened in horror. He’d never... he’d never drank from a human before... he... it was... so fresh... and... god, what was that fucking awful after taste?

“What the fuck?! He bit me!”

“Me?! You punched me in the mouth!”

And chipped his goddamn tooth by the feel of it. Stumbling back, Keith fell back onto his arse, hand clamped around the wrist of his bleeding left hand. Shiro rushed to his brother

“Keith! Hold on, you’re going to be okay”

“He bit me! I can’t... I can’t turn... I can’t be one of those”

“You’re going to be okay...”

Panicked enough to vomit, Keith threw up next to himself

“I don’t feel too well”

“Keith!”

Keith’s eyes rolled back, Lance spitting out the blood in his mouth in disgust

“Yuck. What the hell is that?!”

God... it tasted... like metal? But not the taste of blood... it was like he’d sucked on a fishing weight, his nose firmly wrinkled in disgust

“What did you do to him?”

“Nothing! He punched me in the mouth”

Tapping Keith’s face, Shiro tried to rouse his brother... that wasn’t his brother...?

“Keith? Keith, come on, it’s Shiro...”

So this wasn’t an act? Keith wasn’t faking everything to lure him close?

“Is... is he okay?”

“Does he fucking look okay?”

Shiro was panicked. Ripping his mask off, the man’s face was ashen. For fuck’s sake

“Take his mask off properly, let him get some air”

Shiro did as Lance said, Lance cautiously climbing off the ruins of his coffee table and edging closer. With the mask off, he could smell sickness on Keith

“Somethings wrong with him”

“You fucking bit him!”

It was hardly Lance’s fault that the Vatican couldn’t design a suit that withstood his teeth

“No... wait, his blood tasted strange. What breed is he?”

“What do you mean, “what breed?”, he’s human!”

“If he’s human, his blood wouldn’t have tasted like shit”

Shiro let out a groan, Lance shying back as Shiro started rifling through Keith’s pockets before drawing out a spent syringe

“That idiot!”

“What? What is it?”

“Silver concentrate... with mercury. He must have injected himself”

What a fucking tool. Normal, smart, people didn’t go around injecting themselves with silver! Let alone fucking mercury! The idiot had gone and poisoned himself

“Well do something!”

“I can’t! It’s in his bloodstream!”

Holy fucking shit. Nope. No way. He wasn’t having a damn hunter die in his living room

“Get out the way”

“Wha-...”

“Jesus Christ, fucking move”

Taking just a smidge or revenge, Lance tore Keith’s suit open, looking for the damn injection point. Shiro’s fingers moved to his own blade, at which Lance cast him a very disappointed look. He was obviously about to do something very goddamn stupid for sake of this dumbarse dead beat. Letting his eyes roam Keith’s body, he found the pinprick on his neck, able to see the slight amount of residue built up around the marking

“Go get me a bucket!”

“What?”

“Or a bowl! Just hurry up!”

Shiro scampered off, Lance closing his eyes and saying a prayer. He’d never fed off a living human before, and thanks to Keith, he was going to for the first time in 36 years. 44 years if he was being technical. Shit. He was nervous as hell. The one taboo he’d never broken. For this... Lance’s stomach clenched, he’d been nervous about plenty of things, but this was whole other level nerves. Every cruel thing ever directed at him for being what he was... but Keith had gone and poisoned himself. Cringing, Lance sank his teeth into Keith’s neck, the taste in his mouth was rancid, he wanted to throw it back up and his damn mouth felt tingly. Pulling back, cheeks bludging, Lance tried not to spit out the disgusting sludge in his mouth. When Shiro finally came running back in, Lance ended up spitting blood all over him and not the bowl

“You drank his blood?!”

Ignoring Shiro, Lance forced himself to bite back into Keith’s neck, he couldn’t take another mouthful after this, his mouth would burn and blister, opening sores. Drinking quickly, he pulled back, spitting into the bowl this time

“What are you doing?!”

Letting himself drop back onto his arse, Lance wiped his lips with the back of his hand. His body didn’t know what to do. Blood was supposed to be good... it was good. It was fresh... soooo fucking fresh... but revolting... and the way Keith’s flesh slid up his teeth... Clenching his fists, Lance forced a breath down to calm himself down, before spitting again. Yuck

“What did you do to my brother?!”

Shiro sounded like the worlds most disappointed father. No wonder Keith was such an arsehole, that tone went right through Lance’s heart. Being punched in the face would be kinder

“I sucked out what I could... I think I did it right... I’ve never... I’ve never even drunk from a human before in my life... I couldn’t... he... he could have died... why couldn’t we talk?”

Shiro’s expression shifted to something Lance couldn’t read... No, more like he didn’t want to read the surprise and pain all over Shiro’s face at his shocked babbling

“You...”

Lance was getting teary now, disgusted with himself. He was covered in Keith’s blood. Human blood...

“Take him to the bedroom, use whatever you need... I... can’t do this”

[yodawgiherd]

Partial Guidance

Rating: M

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Eren meets up with Ymir and Krista to discuss things that are not supposed to be public. AKA Another dive into the past.

Enjoy!

There was something different about Mikasa today. Looking at her workout at the pole, doing all those humanly impossible moves that seemed so easy when she’s done them, Eren couldn’t crack it. And it pissed him off. He knew his fiancé well, very well in fact, inside and out. This little detail, whatever it was, was distracting him from the work he set out to do this evening, which was opening a Word document and typing down some basic info he could share with Ymir and Krista tomorrow. Finally, they dogged him enough that he caved in and agreed to have that humiliating ordeal of sharing those aspects of his past with those two. Recalling the memories did bring quite a handful of very pleasant ones, and Eren was stuck in a nice trip into the past until Mikasa came into the room and began working herself at the pole. Because that’s when he first noticed something is off about her and this whole cycle of trying to locate the source and failing to do it began. The back tattoo was a bit of novelty still, just a few weeks old, but that wasn’t it. Other than that, she did look her usual perfect self, twirling around the pole in a dance of muscle and strength. So what was bothering him? What was he missing?

Finishing her set, Mikasa jumped down, taking a few deep breaths to stabilize herself and immediately stretching after. At this point, it was a reflex, the years of Levi’s harsh training engraved into her mind. Noticing his stare, she arched an eyebrow in the universal gesture of What’s up.

“There’s something off about you.”, he accused her right away.

“Oh really?”, sweeping some of her sweat-soaked midnight hair from her face, Mikasa had a smug smile, “Can’t believe you noticed.”

It was that gesture that caught Eren’s attention. The flash of red amidst the raven strands that definitely wasn’t there when he woke up next to his fiancé this morning.

“You got a stripe in your hair.”

“That’s right. You like it?”, turning her head a bit to the left, Mikasa brought out the red for a better view, “Kiyomi asked me if I could get it for my next project.”

“Really? What is it?”

“A future-themed collection, cyberpunk or something like that. This thing is going to look so good at it.”

“Because in future people dye their hair?”

She shrugged.

“I guess. Wasn’t my idea, but I’m not against it. Honestly, I think that it looks badass. Plus I can use it to show my dedication to winning the Colosseum tournament in Vegas once that comes. You know, letting the dye in until I win or something like that. I’m sure Levi will help me come up with the exact wording.”

Right, that thing was still happening. Yet Eren could agree with her claim that the red stripe did look quite badass.

“But enough about my hair.”, Mikasa continued, coming closer to where Eren was sitting, eyeing the laptop in front of him, “What are you working on?”

“Just putting down some info for that tomorrow interview with the two horny lesbians.”

“I’ll assume you’re talking about Ymir and Krista right?”

A smirk spread on his lips.

“Who else?”

Mikasa’s eyes flew over the few lines Eren wrote down, quietly reading it for herself. Reaching certain parts, she smiled too with a soft fondness in her face.

“Ah, memories. We used to be awkward about everything.”, she said.

“Maybe it was better this way. Out public promiscuity has gotten us into this mess.”

“Eh, I don’t mind. As long as you are not too explicit about what we did…”

“No, don’t you worry about that.”, Eren was fine with sharing info and stories, but he had no intention of describing the sex itself. Ymir would probably be disappointed, but there was a limit of what he was willing to say to her. After tomorrow, they would still be stuck together at work, and he was quite sure that it would be rather awkward if everything went public. No, definitely not.

“I’ll just use a tasteful fade to black once we get down to business.”, he assured Mikasa, “No hardcore porn stories.”

“All good then.”

Eyeing Eren’s focused face as he re-read what he wrote, Mikasa had other plans for him than sitting and writing down lines for Ymir to laugh at. Those two could have him tomorrow, but tonight he was hers to enjoy. Mikasa’s body was pleasantly tired from the workout but not too exhausted, meaning that she still had some energy left for other…. activities.

“Babe, I need a shower.”, she drawled, getting Eren to look at her, “And I would appreciate company….”

The laptop was closed in about a second and the chair dragged over the surface when he bolted upright. Sweeping the giggling Mikasa up, Eren made his way towards the bathroom, intent on getting her even dirtier before helping her clean up. The work could wait.

The dreaded evening was here. Raising his hand to knock, Eren almost dropped it back down before he recalled all the important looks Ymir threw him at the hospital, saying multiple times that they are expecting him. There was no way to back out now. Bating his breath, Eren gathered his courage and knocked.

The door flew open almost immediately.

“Eren! You’re here! Come in, come in…”, Ymir ushered him inside, closing the door behind Eren with a click of finality. This was happening.

“Have a seat, uuuuh… somewhere.”

Okay, first observation. Ymir and Krista’s flat was small. Not tiny, but smaller than Eren expected. Second, it was a mess. Not very surprising for Ymir, but Krista living like this while her job was literally to organize and hand out files was a shocker. A small one, but it was there.

“So good to see you!”, Krista chirped from her seat, bundled up in a sweater that was several sizes too large and hideous.

Oh right, that was the Christmas gift he gave Ymir, Eren recalled. Apparently, she found a use for it instead of dunking it in a dumpster as he half expected. Good for her. Gently relocating some magazines, Eren freed up enough space to sit while Ymir wormed her way next to Krista.

“Now Eren, we don’t want to rush you…”, Krista began, but Ymir cut her off almost immediately.

“But you have to start like right now! C’mon!”

While the blonde was frowning at her tall girlfriend, Eren ran his hands through his hair, exhaling. There was no point in stalling anymore, Ymir had a point.

“It’s all right, I can go. So, what do you want to hear?”

“Why don’t you start at the beginning?”, Krista suggested, “Tell us how you two even got into it.”

“And don’t leave anything out.”, Ymir chimed in, earning a punch to the shoulder from her girlfriend.

One of many to come. With a nod, Eren brought back the earliest memories and began.

“Well, it all started about three years back…”

This was a great drinking evening. Eren was buzzed slightly, resting on the couch with Mikasa’s body on top of his, one arm around her waist with his thumb stroking over her hipbone. Her own arms were also encircling him, a gesture she often did. Some could describe Mikasa’s behavior as clingy, but Eren did not mind. With all that happened in her life, with how damaged she was as a child it was understandable that she held on to the few people she called friends with all her might.

The movie was pretty fun too, although it was only beginning. Eren picked it, an action-packed film with known star actors titled Mr. and Mrs. Smith. So far the action has been rather scarce, but it was picking up at a steady pace. Right now, Mrs. Smith was doing her thing, reaching her target and….

Tying him up?

“I don’t understand.”, Eren murmured, watching the actress swat the target’s back with a riding crop, “If he is a crime boss or something, why would he let a random woman tie him up?”

“Her cover is a professional dominatrix, dummy”, Mikasa replied from his chest, “And he’s obviously into it. Don’t kinkshame.”

“I’m not! But he’s stupid, this is not going to end well for him.”

Just at that moment, the target’s neck was snapped, and his body flopped down on the ground, giving Eren a victorious smile.

“See? Told you.”

Mikasa was weirdly silent after that, chewing the words and maybe battling slight nausea caused by the alcohol in her system. She was never much of a drinker. Deciding to give her time on whatever she was chewing, Eren pressed a kiss to the top of her head and hugged her a bit closer.

“Babe?”, she began carefully, apparently testing the waters for something bigger, “Do you really find it that weird?”

“What do you mean?”

“The things that happened in that movie. The tying up and stuff.”

“I mean, I’m not stupid, I know that some people are into it, I just…”,

I’ve never tried it before was his original end of the sentence but Eren stopped himself before those words even left his mouth. He never tried It before, but was that a reason to condemn a thing? With Mikasa, it was worth it to be open-minded. Their discovering of each other’s bodies and sex as a whole was enough of a reason to give anything a try, as long as it was with her. She made everything amazing. Why not be a bit more open-minded?

“I’m not weirded out.”, he said, “I’m just inexperienced I guess. Do you find it dumb?”

“Nonono, come here.”, loping a hand around his neck, Mikasa pulled him closer, “I-I don’t think it’s that stupid.”

Despite being forced to inhale the alcohol fumes from her breath, Eren did not really mind. He was buzzed himself, so letting himself be dragged, he stared into her flushed face.

“Whatyamean?”, he cobbled together.

“Don’t say this to anyone, but I did something like that myself.”

Even completely drunk, that still caught Eren’s attention.

“You mean you had someone tie you up?”

“Naaah, not that. But I used... I used to… hurt myself a bit.”

“Wait what?”

“High school was wiiiiiiiiiiild.”, Mikasa’s voice de-evolved into a giggle and she nuzzled Eren’s face, grinning like a maniac.

But despite her easy-going attitude and delivery of said information, the fact that she hurt herself did set off alarms in Eren’s head. He had to make that known.

“Why would you like hurt yourself man, that ain’t cool.”

Nailed it.

“T’was a long time ago and everything sucked, and I was depressed as shit. I didn’t do anything serious though.”

“What did you do then?”

“Burned myself a bit, but it did not make me feel better so I stopped. I also tried slapping myself a bit, but that made me feel funny inside.”

“Like turned on?”

Her eyes flickered down and up, unsure where to look. Despite being drunk, it was awkward to talk about this.

“Maybe, I didn’t rightly know. After those stupid experiments, Sasha came into my life and helped me pull myself up. I also started going harder at myself at the gym so I had no energy to fool around with a lighter.”

“I’m glad that nothing serious happened then.”, pulling up, Eren pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Do you want to talk about it more? I’m here if you need it.”

Mikasa thought about it for a second but then shook her head.

“Nah. Happened a long time ago and I know that it was stupid. Just crazy teen experiments, we all did those.”

“Oh? What else crazy did you do?”

She tapped her smirk with a single black fingernail.

“Let’s see… I did black magic, broke a guy’s hand for touching me… oh, and these.”, turning her head, Mikasa let the light shine on her ear piercings, “It hurt like a bitch when I had them done cause my ears are super sensitive but hey. Worth it.”

She even thought about having her tongue pierced at one point, but never gathered the courage to do it. Maybe one day.

“But anyway, she went on, “would you be willing to.. I dunno… give it a try?”

“Have you burn me?”

She giggled and shook her head.

“No, not that. Not yet.”

Eren’s eyes narrowed.

“Wait a second…”

But Mikasa didn’t allow him to finish.

“I was thinking about the tying up stuff, try some bonding.”

“I think it’s called bondage.”, Eren chimed in.

“Whatever.”, she waved that note aside, “So, you want to give it a shot?”

And when Eren thought about it, he couldn’t come up with any reason why not. After all, Angelina was super hot in that movie, and even imagining Mikasa in that latex outfit gave him an almost immediate swelling between the legs.

“All right, let’s do it.”

Her response was a smile. Small, yet somewhat dangerous.

“Let’s.”

“That was the first time we talked about this at all, that’s how it came up.”, Eren said, finished with his opening speech.

“A movie huh?”, Krista noted, “That’s about as good of a start as any. How did you continue?”

“After some time and a lot of talk, we decided to just kick it and go for it one evening. We bought normal rope in a store, came home, and…”

Went wild.

“So, how do we do this.”, Mikasa asked, sitting on the bed next to him.

Looking down at the rope in his hands, Eren shrugged.

“I haven’t got the slightest clue.”

Buying it was easy, every store had ropes and Eren was sure to pick the softest he could find. Handcuffs would probably be easier but neither of them was in this enough to buy a pair. This was water-testing, neither Eren nor Mikasa was fully sold on the idea. Sure, it sounded good in theory, but practice was another thing altogether.

“I guess one of us has to get tied up, and the other does the tying?”, Eren continued, “At least that’s what they did in those videos.”

While in their research it was usually the girl who got tied up, just thinking about it made Mikasa nervous. She did not like giving up control over her body to anyone. And while Eren had breached several of things she’s never done before, for example having sex with a guy, this was a step Mikasa wasn’t sure she would be okay to take. Her body was her weapon, a sword and shield against the cruel outside world, and having it tied to the bed and helpless did not sound like fun at all. To prevent that from happening, she reached down and took the rope into her own hands.

“I’ll tie you up, okay?”

A bit of relief entered Eren’s features. He really was clueless.

“Okay, I’m fine with that.”

“Good,”, nodding towards the bed, Mikasa issued her first order, “Lie down.”

“You know, where is the girl I used to date?”, Eren asked, “The one whose ears went red when she said I love you out loud.”

“That one? She’s dead. I killed her and buried the body.”, Mikasa said without missing a beat, “Now be a good boy and lie down.”

When Eren obeyed, she made him raise his arms and tied them to the frame with quick and effective movements. That done, she sat back on her heels, watching her prey with new interest.

“How does it feel?”, she wanted to know.

“Weird.”, tugging at the bindings, Eren grimaced.

Mikasa tied him up tightly, there was no way he was wiggling out of it unless she let him.

“Weird but not bad.”, he looked back at her, “What now?”

“Now? Well, now….”, moving down, gracefully and slowly like a predator descending on its helpful prey, Mikasa’s face was right in front of his, filling Eren’s whole field of view, “Now I will play with you.”

The kiss was unexpected and lighting fast, he had no chance to react in time. Another complication arose then. Tied up like this, Eren was completely at her mercy, he couldn’t do anything to control the kiss, couldn’t even run his hands through her hair or down her back, couldn’t push down at her waist to have her mold into his body. This was Mikasa’s show now, and she found herself liking it. Reaching down, she cupped the growing erection in Eren’s pants, grinning into his face after.

“Someone’s a little excited.”

“What do you expect? Kissing you is a fucking drug, Miki.”

“Well, you aren’t getting another dose unless you ask nicely. So?”, she pulled back a bit more, “I’m waiting…”

Eren swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

“You want me to beg you to kiss me?”

“That’s correct.”

“Uh, fine…”, he took a deep breath, “Please, can you kiss me?”

“Hmmm…. No.”

“What? But…”

She shushed him with a finger.

“You aren’t desperate enough.”, the hand at his crotch pushed down, making Eren hiss, “Yet.”

Moving between his legs, Mikasa took her time with undressing him, slowly pulling clothing away until Eren’s lower half was naked, his obvious excitement out for anyone to see. Tied to the bed with his dick out was a new experience, and it made him blush slightly. Not so much Mikasa, who found the dominatrix role just endearing. Having all of her boyfriend to play with, that was something she enjoyed, and with his hands tied to the bed, he was completely in her control. And Mikasa Ackerman did like having control. Curling her fingers around his length, she gave him a testing pump, loving how red-faced Eren became. This was some good shit.

“But don’t worry,”, a smile, lighting up her beautiful face, “I’ll make you desperate.”

When he stopped, Ymir cried out as if in pain.

“Oh come on, you can’t stop now! You were just getting to the juicy bits!”

“He’s not going to describe his sex life in detail to us.”, Krista growled at her girlfriend, “This is fine.”

“This is not fine!”, Ymir argued,  “I wanted…”

Another punch to the shoulder shut her up. How many was it at this point? Honestly speaking, Eren lost count.

“Please, Eren, continue.”, Krista said, eyeing Ymir, “I’ll be sure to keep Ymir in line.”

Allowing himself a satisfied smirk at Ymir’s disappointed face, Eren leaned back in the chair and went on.

“Things were great for a time. We didn’t do these kinky stuff too often, but from time to time things did get heated and it usually ended up with me being tied and Mikasa on top. And it was amazing, of course it was, but her unwillingness to ever switch things up started to gnaw at me. Slowly, gradually I found myself questioning if she would ever trust me enough to switch. And then, one special evening, I got my answer…”

The ring burning a hole into Eren’s pocket, a silent reminder of what he set out to do tonight. It also reminded him of Armin’s words, of the many ways his friend called this plan stupid and out of touch. But Eren was determined, and as usual, when he set his mind on something he did it, no holds barred. So far, everything was peachy, Mikasa didn’t suspect a thing. They grabbed food, saw a movie, everything was fine, and to top it off Mikasa almost attacked him as soon as they were home, tearing away Eren’s jacket with clear intent. Armin’s word danced in his head, how many times his friend told him that this idea was stupid, but that little bug in the back of his mind would not stop biting. He just had to know if Mikasa would trust him enough. He just had to.

Tearing away from her delicious lips, Eren took a deep breath.

“You want to have some fun?”

She was confused for a second, but then it clicked and there was a smile. A sexy one at that.

“Sure, just let me grab the ropes and…”

“Wait.”, catching her hand, Eren pulled her towards himself, confusion returning to her eyes.

And then he asked.

“Would be it okay if I took the lead tonight?”

And the gears began to turn. Her eyes turned from sultry to unsure, her mouth dropped open and closed before settling on biting her bottom lip. There was some fear in her posture now, worry, the classic reactions of her body when anyone threatened the ultimate control she always had over the situation. But this time, Eren didn’t comfort her. This time he waited because no matter how you look at it, Mikasa was an adult and she could make her own decisions. He couldn’t doubt that he was nervous himself though, would she be into this? And most importantly, would she trust him enough?

Just as the silence dragged on too long, just as Eren was about to tell her to forget about it, that it does not matter, Mikasa nodded. A quick sharp movement of her head, leaving nothing in question.

“Ok. Let’s do this.”

It felt like a dream. Grabbing his hand, Mikasa led him to the bedroom, quickly stripping from her clothes. Eren just stared, half not believing what was happening. But then, she turned towards him, fully nude, and raised an eyebrow.

“Where do you want me?”

“Uhmm…”

“You are the top now Eren, so tell me. Where do you want me?”, she repeated.

There was no need to push her boundaries. For now, the most basic things would be enough. Nodding towards the bed, they climbed into it and on Eren’s request, Mikasa presented him her wrists. Meeting her eyes again and getting another affirmative nod, Eren retrieved the rope and coiled it around her hands, firmly enough that she wouldn’t wiggle out of it. After that, he directed her to lie down and stretched over her body, tying the end of the rope to the headboard. There, now she was suspended in the most basic way, the classic thing that most couples start on.

Eren still couldn’t believe it. He had Mikasa Ackerman, The Mikasa Ackerman, naked on the bed with her hands tied to the frame. He personally had coiled the rope around the wrists of the incredible athlete, bound that cool and distant goth girl, had her at his mercy. If she weren’t watching him with her half-lidded eyes, he would slap himself to wake up from this fever dream. But if the nervousness and the silk touch of her skin he felt beneath his hands was of any indication, this was real life.

“Are you just going to stare?”, Mikasa’s controlled voice tore Eren out of his trance, “Or are you going to do something?”

“A-And what should I do? I mean…”, running his hands through his hair, Eren let out a frustrated noise, “What do you want me to do? To you. What do you want me to do to you?”

“Eren, the top is supposed to be in control of the situation, that’s our burden.”

To be quite honest, he never thought about that. Sure, there were a few moments when he let his mind wander, but now that it was seriously happening Eren had problems coming up with any sexy activities.

“Are you sure that you’re okay with this?”, he asked for like the hundredth time, still a bit concerned about Mikasa being comfortable tied up. She never, never ever, gave control over her body to anyone. Ever. This was the first time and he wanted to make sure that she doesn’t feel pressured into this.

“Babe, I told you, I’m fine.”, as her hands were tied, Mikasa used her foot instead to soothingly rub it over his thigh, “I want this.”

But seeing that Eren was still uncertain, she offered him some guidance. She was the more experienced domme out of the two.

“Why don’t you just remember what I do to you when I tie you up and do the same things to me. Maybe give it a little personal twist?”

“Erm, there’s this thing you do quite often, but…”, Eren’s eyes flickered down between her legs, “I’m not sure if I can suck your dick.”

Mikasa masked her giggle with a shake of her head.

“You’re such a dork.”

The laughter gave him a little break, a second to truly absorb what was happening right now. Mikasa allowed him to do this to her, she wanted Eren to tie her up, she put herself in his hands. And while it may seem insignificant from the outside, he knew that it was nothing but. With the tragic loss of her parents as a child and subsequently being raised by a brother for who showing affection was about as hard as reaching the top shelves, Mikasa built up a cold wall of ice around her body and emotions, not willing to lower it for anyone. Life kept punching her in the face and she stopped believing that the hand could caress too. Mikasa found her ways to cope in her training, had her very, very tight circle of friends, but all of that meant nothing when compared to Eren. Their relationship was new and unexpected, it woke up parts of her she long thought dead, and this was the culmination of their long intimate road of trust. Mikasa trusted Eren like no one else and giving up control for him was a huge step, a massive step even. She did this for him and herself both and Eren would be damned if he let her down now, when she was most vulnerable. Exposed, not only in flesh but in soul too, all of Mikasa Ackerman was right now laying in front of him, stretched over the bed in firm, enticing curves.

“You’re mine.”

Eren didn’t know where those words came from, but the second they left his mouth he knew what to do. He had to make this night unforgettable. Slowly, he slid his hands over her thighs, coming to rest on her waist.

“Mine.”, he repeated, leaning closer to follow the same path with his mouth.

“Mine,”, he said as he kissed her bellybutton, stomach, and those mouth-watering abs.

“Mine.”, as he ran his lips over her small perky breasts, teasing her nipples until they were fully erect for him.

“Mine.”, he whispered into her ear, biting the goth’s pierced sensitive flesh.

She moaned out loud at that, her body needily arching into his. Moving to her lips, Eren claimed her, exploring her mouth with his tongue, dominant and in charge, finally fully embracing his role. Mikasa wanted this so much, she would be the last one to deny him. Submissively opening her mouth for him, she groaned into the kiss when Eren’s fingers skirted that area between her legs, positively wet from him leisurely claiming of her whole body. She was feeling good about this, very good even, much better than she expected. There was a small part of her that expected herself to scream the safeword as soon as Eren put the rope around her wrists, but that need wasn’t there. She just trusted him, there was no way he would hurt her. To her own surprise, Mikasa trusted him so much that there was another taste she would like to acquire.

“E-Eren?”, she whispered when his lips left hers in favor of kissing her neck.

He immediately pulled back, most likely expecting her to ask him to release her. Yet he was completely wrong.

“I want you to blindfold me.”, Mikasa requested, all polite despite the situation, “Please.”

“Are you sure?”, he asked, slowly, making sure that she understands.

She did. Every word.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

Following her wish, Eren fished out the silky strip of cloth from their nightstand, holding it in his hands.

“Do you remember the safeword?”

She nodded.

“Scarf.”

“Very good.”

Gently, he wrapped the blindfold around her head, robbing Mikasa of her vision. After making sure that it sits both correctly and comfortably, she nodded at him.

“Let’s continue.”

Oh, but such a mouth had nothing to do on a submissive. Moving back to her ears, Eren replied in a husky whisper.

“I believe that sentence is missing something.”

Eren could see Mikasa’s throat move as she swallowed.

“C-Can we please continue, sir?”

“Good girl.”

Ka-chow, tasteful fade into black. Mikasa would be proud. On the other hand, Ymir looked like she was about to bite off Eren’s head. And the story wasn’t done yet. Speeding up the memory in his head, Eren skipped all those juicy parts as Ymir called them, resuming the scene once things have relatively calmed down.

It happened. Mikasa trusted him with this, trusted him enough to give control over her body to him, if only for a time. It broke that last insecurity he held inside, silenced that stupid voice that gnawed in the back of his head and made him sure of what he was about to do next.

Armin was right about the timing being completely stupid though. Eren and Mikasa were tangled on the bed, the scent of sex and sweat hanging in the air, just resting before they hit the shower. Arm around her body, he listened to her breathing, silently arguing with himself if he should do this. Mikasa deserved better. She deserved flowers, a surprise music band, dinner with all her friends and family invited for this. She deserved the greatest event in human history, yet instead, he was about to drop it on her out of nowhere, here in their bed. Mikasa was half asleep on him, eyes closed, the red marks on her body reminder of what happened just moments ago. Rope marks on her wrists, bite marks on her neck and shoulders, imprinted fingertips on her hips where Eren held her.

It was a gut feeling. It was a shot in the dark. It was unprecedented and untested. It was an action that Armin, the smartest guy he knew, called stupid and impulsive. But as stated before, Eren felt good about this.

“Babe? You know I love you right?”

Mikasa hummed in acknowledgment, which was good enough in this situation. Understandably, she was quite tired. Taking a deep breath, Eren took the dive.

“So I was wondering…. Would you marry me?”

[bbychilly]

Can you write one where you’re very shy and all your ‘friends' teasing. And then y’all went to Dubai and met there Chilly or Madders (on your choice) and when one girl offends you, the boy protects you. Sorry that it’s to long 🙈❤️

love that idea x

* * *

You were sitting on the terrace of a huge club in Dubai and looking at the night city. You had a glass with a non-alcoholic cocktail in your hands and a sad smile on your face.

You came here with your friends from the university, if you can call them like that. You didn’t really communicate with all of them, neither on holidays nor at university. Everyone considered you a black sheep because you didn’t makeup and dress defiantly, didn’t make stupid photos and didn’t hang out every night in clubs like them. Of course, everyone laughed at you and of course, you never had a boyfriend. “Damn, this dupe is sitting alone again!” you heard the voice somewhere behind your back.

“Why did we take her with us?” the second girl was surprised.

“I don’t know. Leah insisted. In childhood, they were close friends, sort of.”

“Oh, I see. Another cocktail?” the girls disappeared around the corner and you sighed again.

Turning to the noise coming from the central hall of the club, you saw all your ‘friends’ dancing and singing loudly. They surrounded some guys and had fun talking with them about everything in a row. Most likely they’re friends of Tammy Abraham, Leah’s boyfriend. They came to Dubai together as a boyfriend and a girlfriend, but apparently, Tammy invited his friends along with him, as Leah did.

You’d like to hang out with them, but you knew that you won’t succeed and you’ll look ridiculous, allowing them to laugh again. So you shook your head, looked back at the city and took a sip of milkshake.

“Gosh, what a heat,” a guy stepped out onto the terrace and sighed to his full chest. Most likely he didn’t notice you. “Oh, what a company Tammy’s girlfriend have. They all makeup so defiantly,” he put the glass on the table. “Do they really think guys like these dolls?” You giggled quietly because of his conclusion and took another sip. The guy turned sharply and took a few steps back. “Damn, am I not alone here?”

“As you can see,” you stood up and leaned your hands on the glass fence. “And why ‘damn’? Do I look that awful?” you pouted jokingly and giggled again.

“Of course you don’t, it was only because of sudden. You’re pretty,” these words made your face blush instantly. This was the first time someone from another gender said something like this to you.

“But what about the lack of silicone lips, a deep neckline and unnaturally long eyelashes?” you joked.

“Stop it, just the lack of everything that you said makes you pretty,” the guy looked at you, coming a little closer, because the music in the club was too loud.

“Thanks.”

“You don’t get all these parties too?” the guy spoke again, after a few minutes of silence. “By the way, I’m Ben.”

“Yeah. I came here only because Leah asked me. I’m (Y/N).”

“Leah is Tammy's girlfriend, right?” in response you nodded. “By the way, she’s one of the few who are more or less cute and with whom you can talk about something other than cosmetics and parties.”

“Yeah, she’s a good student and she never offended me, unlike the others,” you stammered because you realised that you said too much. This isn’t the kind of information that you can tell every stranger.

“Erm,” there was confusion on his face. “What do you mean?”

“You’ll see now,” you grunted when you saw Laura, who was walking toward you with a quick step.

Laura couldn’t stand you and now she was all out of face. It seemed that the fire would go from her ears or the floor under her would melt. And the reason was standing next to you. You saw how Laura tried to charm Ben the whole evening, while the boy paid no attention to her at all. “Hey dupe!” she said too rudely, but you didn’t answer. “I’m talking to you!” She lightly shoved you into the shoulder.

“Ah, to me? Sorry, I thought you tried to remember your name and called yourself,” Ben giggled at your sarcasm, which further pissed off the blonde.

“You weren’t taught that to talk to strangers guy, in the presence of his girlfriend, this is at least bad manners?”

“Wow, what a long sentence. How did you manage your brain to said that?” Ben laughed again and took a few steps forward.

“Wait, I didn’t get it, did you call me your boyfriend?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you fall for me?” she asked confidently.

“Erm, no. And besides, how could I like you if I already have...” he lowered his hands to your waist and pulled you to himself as close as possible “...a girlfriend?” Your jaw just dropped from these words, so you were standing in silence unable to squeeze out a sound.

“What?!” The blonde almost dropped a glass with her drink from her hands.

“Huh? Did you seriously think that someone would like you? With such a bitchy character and such stupid behaviour? Be yourself and don’t make yourself a Barbie. Then maybe someone will fall for you. But definitely not me, so go out of here. And,” he tucked a strand of hair in your ear “if you say another offensive word addressed to her, I’m not responsible for what I might do, got it?”

During this fiery speech, both of you stood a little dumbfounded. As soon as Ben finished and turned away to look at the city, the blonde immediately disappears. “Thank you,” you freed yourself from his hands. “It was a good fiction with a boyfriend and a girlfriend. Now she won’t come close to me. Thank you again,” you smiled and looked into the distance. The horizon wasn’t visible, because the dark sky merged with the dark sea. The line has been erased.

“Fiction?” Ben put his hand on yours and looked at you, although you kept looking at the sea.

“Yeah, really cool idea. I like chatting with you. Let’s be friends?”

“No,” you turned and looked at the boy in surprise.

“But it seemed to me that you didn’t mind. Of course, if you don’t want, I’ll shut up. I won’t force you,” you pulled your hand out of his and went to the central hall, where the party took place.

“Oh my God, wait a minute,” he managed to grab your hand and then pulled you to him, turning you to face him. “You didn’t even let me finish. We won’t be friends, because... It may sound a little strange and too fast, but I liked you,” he leaned over and pressed his lips to yours. It was too unexpected, but, honestly, you wanted it to happen. You liked Ben too. At first sight. “You don’t look like all these identical blondes, it’s interesting to talk to you and you won’t live off boys. This is now rare, believe my experience. And... I won’t forgive myself if I don’t ask, will you become my girlfriend, but for real that time?” You didn’t answer but simply hid your face in his shirt, which smelled of cologne. You felt this smell for the first time but already knew that you wouldn’t allow this shirt, this cologne, these strong hands and warm palms, this soft hair and a pleasant voice, to disappear from your life. “Do you know that I consider silence as a ‘yes’?”

“I know,” you muttered. And that was enough for Ben to kiss you again, awakening all the butterflies in your stomach. It was definitely the best night of your life.

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Just A Little Longer

Summary: After losing his mother, again, the reader wants nothing more than to just be there for the man she loves. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.9K+

Warnings: Language, angst, smut, unprotected sex(no glove no love), fingering

Author’s Note: Just look at that face and tell me that me Dean doesn’t deserve a distraction from all the shit thats happened recently. I mean come on? Special thanks to @hawaiianohana15 for encouraging me to write out my feelings!

My Masterlist

The deep base poured out from your headphones, seeping into your bones and drowning out the rest of the bunker. This is exactly what the doctor ordered. You need desperately to get lost right now and get out of your head. Sweat drips down your face as you continue to throw punch after punch into the boxing bag.

You and the Winchesters had burned their mother's body a few days ago and to say it had been difficult would be an understatement. Dean wasn’t sleeping, just drinking. Sam wouldn’t pry his eyes away from all their family photos. He was acting like he had accepted it all, that Cas’ story about her being happy in heaven made it all okay. Dean wasn’t even trying to hide how broken he was. After everything, you think he is too tired from it all to even try.

And you, well you were definitely not okay. You and Mary has grown close over the past few years. It was more than anything you had dreamed to meet the mystical matriarch of the Winchester household. There were some rough spots no doubt, but you were family. Not to mention, the man you loved, wouldn’t talk to you right now. This all seemed to be the straw that had broken the camel’s back and that scared you.

With a huff, you collapse into the bag, allowing it to hold your weight up as you calm your breathing. You slip off the gloves you were wearing and toss them onto the table as you exit the bunkers gym. As you head down the hall towards your room, you pop the headphones from your ears and return to the deafening silence in the bunkers.

You spot Sam, Cas and Bobby around the table as you pass the kitchen. Halting, you look around for any sign of Dean.

“Y/N?” Sam’s voice meets you, and you glance over, catching his eye.

“Where’s Dean?” You blurt out, not even thinking about saying hi.

“Um,” It’s obvious as Sam blinks his eyes that he’s taken aback by your abruptness. You couldn’t care less. “He said he was heading out for a drink.”

“Alone?”

“He’s not in a good place right now.” Sam gives you an almost pitiful smile. It only enrages you, like you don’t know how hard this is on him, on you.

With a bite of your lip, you give Sam a response. “You think I don’t know that Sam?” The rise in your voice is noticed by everyone in the room. “And you let him go alone? Last time you let him go somewhere alone, he had a grand plan to lock himself in a metal box and throw it into the ocean!”

“What was I supposed to do, lock him down in the dungeon?” Sam stood up from the table, peering down at you. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you.

“You come get me, then we figure something out together! You don’t have a monopoly on your brother!” Mostly you were mad at yourself, for running away into your own world and not keeping an eye on Dean. It felt selfish, she was his mother, who he has lost for a second time.

“I’m going to go get him.” You mutter this time.

“Y/N, he’s not answering his phone.” Sam frowns.

“Then I’ll go find him.” If Sam didn’t care about his brother’s whereabouts, you would.

“I think this time we just let him be. He’ll come back, I know it.”

“No, you don’t get to tell me how to treat my boyfriend. This is between him and me. If he’s pissed, you can tell me ‘I told you so’ later.” You turn on your heel to find your jacket. Sam is naive to think that Dean is just out having a drink. He doesn’t want to be anywhere that reminds him of her. You follow that notion, on foot, he didn’t go far, that you were sure of.

The night is fairly cold, the wind whipping hard against your cheek. It’s not until the rain starts coming down that you begin to question your decision to go on foot.

You walk for about 3 miles outside the bunker. The road is lined with forest on both sides as you head into town. A hidden drive appears on the opposite side of the road into the trees. The dirt looks as though someone has recently driven over it so you take your chance, following it into the darkness.

The trees begin to clear slowly and the impala comes into your line of view. Dean is seated on a log just behind her, but you hear him before you see him.

Dean looks up to you as you walk towards him, but neither of you say anything. He just continues to sob, and you have to fight to not break down and fall to your knees. You had never seen him this broken before and it makes your heart hurt in ways you never thought it could.

Walking up to him, you run your fingers through his soaking hair and Dean glances up at you. Without a word, you position yourself between his legs, pulling his head to you chest, allowing him to just feel. Dean wraps his arms around you, holding you close and you finally allow yourself to sob with him.

The two of you stay that way for who knows how long. When Dean finally slows his breathing, he pulls back to look up at you, his eyes shining and telling you more than his words could.

“Come on.” Your voice is barely audible over the wind whooshing around you. Dean nods as he takes your hand and you lead him back to baby. The back door squeaks as you pull it open and tug Dean into the backseat with you.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry.” Dean frowns at you as he cradles your face in his hands. “You’re cold.” He cuts you off as you open your mouth to protest. He knew you too well. There are still tears falling down his cheeks as he watches you. Dean is lazily brushing the wet strands of hair from your face with the pads of his thumbs.

“Babe,” you grip Dean’s wrist with your fingers and tug him into you, his lips meeting your lazily. You can taste the salt from his tears as you open your mouth to him.

“I don’t know what to do,” Dean is breathing heavily as he pulls his lips only inches away and presses his forehead to yours. “But we have to do something about Jack.”

“I know, but we’ll figure it out later.” You shake your head slightly before kissing him again, putting everything you have behind it. Dean turns rushed quickly, opening his mouth to you and tugging your hair slightly. You moan at the feeling and push Dean back to climb into his lap. His hands move from your hair to your hips, pulling you down hard. You ground into him, eliciting a growl from Dean. With a chuckle you pull back for some air and begin to peel off your jacket. Dean takes the same time to pull off his own jacket and flannel.

“What would I do without you?” He smiles and pecks your lips before working your bra straps down your shoulders.

“Crash and burn.” You tease him, but his expression turns serious and you worry for a second.

“I would, I really would.” Dean’s lips find your jaw and he traces his teeth across your earlobe. You shiver in his embrace and he continues trailing his mouth down your neck. He uses his mouth to suck deeply into your pulse point, driving you crazy with need.

“Baby I need you,” his voice cracked with his plea and all you could do was nod in agreement, your own tears spilling over and down your cheeks.

Dean’s hands come up to gently caress your breasts through the thin material of your bra, your nipples budding in reaction. Your own hands find his belt buckle and you tear it open.

The two of you work over each other. Dean’s fingers slip into your panties and run themselves through your folds. He slips two fingers inside you, pumping and scissoring as you pump your hand up and down his cock lazily. Your breaths are coming quicker as you near your orgasm and the windows of the impala are now completely fogged up.

“Dean, please.” You eyes flutter shut as you try to convey to him what you need. He kisses you hard and fast as he removes his fingers from you.

There is no wasted time as you rid yourselves of the rest of your clothes. Dean guides himself to your entrance and you sink down on him, pausing to let yourself adjust to him.

“Fuck,” Dean’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling. You can see his tongue pressed to the back of his teeth through his parted lips. His cheeks are still stained with his tears and you heart aches. So you kiss him again, testing the waters by rolling your hips against his. Dean growls into you and you pick up the pace, bracing your hands on his shoulders for leverage. You set up a rhythm, pumping and swirling your hips. Dean’s fingers are dangerously tight on your hips, but you don’t mind.

What are you supposed to say to a man who has known nothing but loss? What can you do but try to make it better, if only for a little while? The Winchester had finally thought that they had gotten a break, bringing their mother home and being able to get to know her as adults. But like everything else in their life, it was ripped away too soon. Now it was the three of you, against Jack and Cas and you have no idea what to do. So you do what you can. You distract each other for a little while. You make love to the man you’d give your life for, the man you love more than life itself.

It’s not long before you are begging for release, the long drag of Dean’s cock inside you setting the fire in your belly into overdrive.

“I’m so close,” You whimper into Dean’s neck. He is thrusting his hips up to meet yours now, the impala creaking on her suspension. Dean nods to you, capturing your lips with his again, molding you to him and leaving as little space as he can between you.

Your back arches as your climax hits. Dean buries his face in your cleavage as he continues to fuck into you, quickly catching his release and spilling himself deep inside you.

A shudder rips through you as you relax into Dean, your heavy breaths matching each other.

“My amazing, beautiful girlfriend,” Dean’s words are muffled as he barely lifts his head from your chest. A soft grunt is all you can reply as you slide your fingers through the wet hair on the back of his head. Your fingers rub into his scalp soothingly as you wait for him to continue. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Damn it Dean, stop apologizing for things you have no control over.”

He pears up at you, new tears brimming in his jade colored eyes. “I love you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Me too. Come on we can’t stay here forever.” You kiss him gently again before climbing off of his lap. Dean grips your wrist in his hand, halting you from grabbing your clothes.

“Maybe just a little longer?” He suggests. And who are you to refuse him?

****

Tags are open!

Tags: @polina-93 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @clarinette07

[chierafied]

The Snog Stalemate

JILY CHALLENGE August 2019 | @chierafied vs @lovesickjily

Theme: Summer Tropes

Prompt:  "you were just meant to be a drunk snog at a festival but something must have been wrong with the lock on this thing so now we're stuck in a porta-potty together until someone saves us and - wait you're actually really hot" music festival au

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The people who knew Lily well might have wondered what on Earth had to have happened for her to find herself in such an outrageous situation: stuck in a portaloo with a perfect stranger at a music festival.

It wasn’t one of her proudest moments, though luckily she was drunk enough to find and focus on the hilarity of the situation, instead of doing what she might have normally done: die of mortification.

Still, nothing about her current predicament would have made much sense to those who knew her.

Music festivals weren't Lily's scene – they were too loud and the crowds were way too big and anxiety-inducing and there were too many drunk idiots around.

Lily herself was far from a drunk idiot – especially from the kind who'd go off to snog with strangers.

And what in the bloody hell were they doing in a portaloo?

Simply put, there were two things that had led Lily into this whole mess: Severus Snape and Fleetwood Mac.

Fleetwood Mac was one of Lily's favourite bands of all time. For them, she'd brave a music festival any day.

Severus Snape had been the one to get her the tickets to the festival as a gift, which at the time had been a sweet gesture.

Since then, though, Lily had been finally forced to see and acknowledge Snape's true colours and had ended up cutting him out of her life.

At first, she hadn't been sure what to do with the tickets – anything she associated with Snape now left a sour taste in her mouth.

But at the end of the day, it was Fleetwood Mac and the tickets were hers and already paid for... and what better way to tell Snape to fuck off as to gift the other ticket to Marlene and go have an awesome weekend at Snape's expense.

Getting drunk had been partly thanks to Marlene's insistence and partly acting on the lingering resentment Lily still felt deep down. 

The combination of the alcohol, the spite fuelling this entire trip, and the intoxicating, captivating atmosphere at the festival was probably the reason why Lily had decided to go with the flow and follow a flirty stranger into a portaloo for a snog.

For what it was worth, it had been an excellent snog – definitely one worthy of being in the top five – and Lily had actually been having the time of her life. Until, after disentangling herself from the bloke, she’d turned to the door only to find out the lock was stuck.

Lily frowned at the door, then turned to look over her shoulder.

“It won’t open.”

The guy, despite his current post-snog appearance of wildly tousled dark hair and glasses all askew, was significantly less drunk than Lily, and gently nudged her aside.

“Let me see.”

He fiddled with the latch and was no more successful than Lily judging by the stuck door and muttered swearwords.  

"Now what?" Lily asked.

"We wait, I guess," he said, mussing up his hair. "And try again in a bit."

"Ok."

Silence fell – not one of the good kind. The air around them was closed in, heavy and uneasy. He didn’t meet her eye, just stared at the door while running his hand through his hair, his cheeks slightly pink.

Lily entertained herself by staring at his profile.

She hadn’t been looking at him too closely before; his easy grin and lame jokes that had meshed perfectly with her drunken sense of humour had been enough to lure her away for a snog.  

She’d thought him kinda cute, but upon closer inspection, he was actually really fit. Like really, really fit. Her gaze kept getting caught at that jawline.

There was also something… Lily blinked. Something that her hazy brain couldn’t quite puzzle out.

“Have we met before?” she blurted out. “You look kinda familiar.”

“Nah. If we’d met, I would remember you for sure,” he replied, stealing a quick glance at her.

He tried the latch again but the door still wouldn't open.

“Bloody hell,” he gritted out, scowling at the door.

“It’s ok,” Lily said, idly toying with the festival wristband. “Someone’s bound to need the loo soon so they’ll come and get the door open.”

The guy with a killer jawline grimaced. “I’m not so sure. We’re kinda in the backstage area, this is one of the loos appointed to the artists.”

“What, really?” Lily looked around, but the portaloo didn’t look any classier than usual. 

She also wasn’t sure how exactly they’re got past the security and into the backstage area. She’d been too busy giggling and stumbling after Mr Excellent Snog to pay much attention to just where they were going. 

Then she noticed he didn’t even have a wristband.

“Wait are you staff?” she asked, head tilted to the side.

“Ummm I’m here for work yeah,” the bloke replied, once again avoiding looking at her.

“Huh, that’s cool,” Lily said, fumbling at her handbag. “Guess I’ll text Marlene then.”

“Marlene?” the guy asked.

“My friend. She’s here with me. Somewhere.” Lily squinted down at her phone and started typing.

“I should try calling my friends too,” he said, patting down his pockets. Only to come up empty. “Shit, I don’t have my phone, I lent it to Pete earlier.”

“Don’t worry, Marlene will come and save us,” Lily told him with utter confidence. 

Although it might take a while before she’d read the text because soon five minutes had passed with Lily staring at the chat screen and her message still hadn’t been marked as read.

Beside her, the guy chuckled to himself.

“I have done all kind of stuff and been in various sticky situations in my life but I have to say this is the first time I’ve been stranded in a loo.”

“First for me too,” Lily giggled. Then, gazing appreciatively at that amazing jawline and up into the bright hazel eyes filled with laughter, her lips quirked into a flirty smile. “At least the company’s great.”

He grinned at her. “The best company I’ve had all night.”

“You know,” Lily said, stepping into him, “since we’re stuck here waiting anyway, might as well make the most of it.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. 

He pulled her to him, his hand sliding down her back to rest on her bum. She wrapped her arms around his neck, snaking her hand into that mussed up dark hair. 

The kiss was thorough, a little sloppy in the best way possible. The kind of a snog you felt all the way down your toes.

The world faded away, time stood still; all that mattered was his taste on her tongue, his jaw brushing against her throat, the scent of his cologne teasing her nose, the warmth and strength of his body against hers, the weight of his hand as he squeezed her bum. 

In fact, they were so properly preoccupied that they didn’t hear the noise outside; didn’t realise they were being set free until they were actually stumbling out of the loo as the stuck door against which they’d been pressed up suddenly opened.

Lily's bloke steadied her and then they were both standing in front of the loo, breathless and mussed up and facing flabbergasted Marlene and a nonplussed security guy.

Lily had expected Marlene to start taking the piss the moment they’d been rescued.

However, Marlene didn’t seem at all amused. Instead, she was staring at Lily’s bloke all slack-jawed.

“Fucking hell you’re in the Marauders,” Marlene exclaimed, her wide-eyed glance darting to Lily. “You snuck off to snog with a fucking Marauder?”

Lily turned to stare at Mr Jawline, her well-liquored brain taking a moment to connect the dots. “Wait, like the rock band?”

“Everything all right here?” the security guard interjected.

“Sure, yeah, we’re fine,” Mr Marauder replied.

“Good.” The security guy eyed at all of them, then shooed them off, turning his attention towards the faulty lock.

“Guess we never really introduced ourselves,” Mr Rock Star said sheepishly. “James Potter, I play the drums in the Marauders.”

“Lily Evans, no one famous,” she answered.

He grinned at her.

She smiled back.

“I need a drink,” Marlene moaned.

“I’m buying,” James offered. “Since I still haven't thanked you for helping us out.”

Marlene opened her mouth. No words came out. She shook her head, turned around and started to head towards the bar tent. 

James and Lily shared a glance.

He shrugged, she laughed.

As they started to walk after Marlene, he slung his arm across her shoulders and she leaned into him. 

She would never have thought it possible, but getting stuck in a portaloo had totally been worth it.