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gorgonwrites · 1 year

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bound to you, part 4

diluc x fem!reader

wc: 3, 155

author's note: alexa, play Take Me Back To Eden by Sleep Token

cw: 18+, MDNI!!! fem!reader, reader is an artist, oral (fem receiving), fingering, overstim, dacryphilia, body worship, edging, angst MAYBE if you squint, arranged marriage, tooth rotting sweetness bc diluc is a soft man and just wants to love you right

“And then I use orange here against the blue,” you made a quick swipe with your paintbrush, “See how it creates a highlight? The two colors contrast in such a way that it immediately brings your attention to this focal point.” your husband leans over your shoulder to look at the area of the canvas you were finishing. He had declined to paint with you, but he did insist on remaining in your presence for the rest of the afternoon. At first you weren’t sure you could tolerate his audience, but as time passed you both relaxed as he watched your brush dance across the canvas.

“When did you start painting?” Diluc was directly behind you, bent over so he was speaking directly into your ear. Being so close to him sent a bolt of electricity through you, and you had to steady yourself for a moment before answering him.

“When I was small. I think I was 7 when my father bought me my first set of paints.” Remembering the day you received them made you smile. You had painted the most atrocious version of a cryo slime anyone had ever seen and paraded it around your home for days afterwards, convinced that it was the greatest thing to ever grace your family member’s eyes.

“I was a little overconfident back then, but I was humbled quickly.” you laughed, “My parents sent me to painting classes and my teacher was ruthless. The first time she told me my skills were worthless, I cried for days.”

Diluc frowned at the thought. If anyone but him dared to bring tears to your eyes- his thoughts came to a halt. Anyone but him. You were still talking but he didn’t hear a single word, too focused on imagining tears spilling down your face with your lips wrapped around his cock. Fuck. He could feel the growing bulge in his pants, and he was in no position to readjust himself.

“Y/n, I just remembered I have something that needs taking care of-” he began to retreat, trying to escape to the privacy of his own chambers. Your arm shot out quickly and silenced him before he could finish speaking. You reached up and cupped his cheek with your palm, holding his gaze. Diluc slowly reached up and covered your hand with his own, his bulging cock completely forgotten.

“Are you unwell?” you asked quietly, surprised by the courage suddenly coursing through your veins. You brushed your thumb across your husband’s bottom lip, his eyes widening in response.

“I am very well, I assure you.” he breathed. Your hands were so warm on his skin. “I have one more thing regarding the winery that requires my attention. Once you’re finished here, have Addy help you bring your things inside.” You began to pout. “This is the last thing I have to do for the next few weeks, I promise.”

“Words mean very little to me, Diluc. How do you intend to comfort your lonely wife?” His response was a wicked smile, and he took your hand from his cheek only to hold it gently in both of his own.

“I think you’ll find I can be very comforting if given the chance, angel.” a pang shot through your heart. He continued, “Your hands are warm today.”

“I- I haven’t used my vision to cool myself since you’ve kept me company this afternoon.” You gasped as he brought your hand to his lips, brushing them over each of your fingers. He then looked at you with a stern expression on his face.

“Don’t do that anymore. I mean it.” Diluc wanted to know all of you, and you continuing to hide a core part of yourself every time you were in his presence was beginning to weigh on him.

“But the other day my hands were too cold and you withdrew from me, I was being careless, I-” you were speaking rapidly, barely louder than a whisper. You stopped suddenly when he pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand.

“I didn’t withdraw because your hands were cold. I withdrew because it was the first time you reached out to me and I was surprised.” He looked up at you and smiled again. “You think too much, has anyone ever told you that?” It was true that Diluc didn’t like the cold. He didn’t enjoy when snow covered the rolling hills of Mondstadt, he didn’t like cold drinks on a hot day, and he didn’t like even thinking about joining his staff as they jumped into the cold rivers that flowed down from Dragonspine. But he could deny you nothing, and if that meant overcoming this small hurdle, so be it. Your fingers suddenly felt icy in his hand, and goosebumps broke out across his skin.

“Maybe this will be the first time I decide to do as you ask for a change.” you giggled mischievously, and Diluc rolled his eyes. You were also a brat he was learning, but he’d never say that out loud.

You were finished for the day shortly after your husband left you. You were reeling from your exchange with him, and your arousal was almost tangible as you gathered your things. Adelinde came out to greet you, and helped you carry everything back to the manor. The two of you were in the library adjusting your painting above the mantle before you finally spoke.

“How long has Diluc been calling you Addy?” you were curious. He’d never referred to Adelinde by the nickname in front of you before, and you found it incredibly endearing.

“So he finally let that one slip, did he?” Adelinde laughed, “He’s been saying that since the day I arrived at the manor. He was still very young, and I don’t think he could quite manage my full name at the time. Addy has stuck ever since.” The thought made you snicker. Of course he would adopt his own name for her rather than ever admitting that there was a time when he was incapable of pronouncing her name. You both continued to adjust and readjust the painting, careful not to smear any of the drying paint.

“He worries about you, you know.” Adelinde said absently as she worked with you to finally move the canvas in place. “You’re all he has.” You looked at her, confused.

“I didn’t think I did that much to cause him to fret over me.” Yes, you liked to push what you could and could not do, mostly because you hated the feeling of being caged like a bird. His requests were always simple things- don’t venture off of the winery grounds when he was away, no housework, no fieldwork, and no going out after the sun set each evening.

“The young master has grown up in a difficult world, my Lady. Forgive him for being a cautious man.” you knew nothing of what Adelinde referred to. Your curiosity was eating at you though, and you wanted more information on your ever elusive husband.

“What do you mean?”

Adelinde just sighed in response, shaking her head. If you really want to know, you have to go ask him yourself. You huffed out a breath in response, and instead turned your attention to the painting freshly mounted over the mantle. Courage, you thought to yourself. I just need ten seconds of courage.

You paced back and forth at the foot of your bed, unable to make up your mind. You had bathed and now wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide from the thoughts whirling in your mind. After your interaction with Diluc earlier, your arousal had continued to grow throughout the evening and it was now almost unbearable. More than that, your curiosity was starting to spill over about your husband’s life before you married him. You needed to know every detail he was willing to share. You’d been walking around your room for ages, and the moon was high in the sky. He probably wasn’t even awake.

I’ll go to his door, knock, and if he doesn’t answer I’ll come back and pretend it never happened. It took several times of you repeating the thought in your head before you were finally convinced to venture out into the hall. You slowly and carefully made your way through the dark to Diluc’s door, your breathing starting to quicken. You lifted your hand and lightly knocked, half hoping that it was too quiet for him to hear. After a few moments you began to turn away, relieved. Your chest tightened when you heard the lock on Diluc’s door click, and light from his room spilled into the hallway. You froze in place, immediately regretting your decision to come see him.

You could tell from the wild expression on his face that he wasn’t expecting to see you. He was shirtless, and his hair cascaded over his shoulders. There was a hint of a flush on his chest, and you couldn’t help but wonder what he had been doing before he opened the door. Heat began to gather between your thighs at the thought.

“Y/n? Are you well?” He looked worried, pushing his hair out of his face. Grabbing your hand, he gently pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you. Your eyes raked over every inch of your husband, quickly forgetting your bubbling curiosity from earlier.

“Very well,” you rasped. Courage, you reminded yourself. You closed the gap between your bodies, placing your hands on his bare chest. You could feel his body tense under your touch. Craning your neck, you leaned into him to whisper into his ear. “I came to remind my husband that he left his wife lonely and wanting this afternoon.”

His hands were on you instantly. He firmly held the small of your back, pressing you closer to him. He took your chin in his other hand, forcing you to look up to him and hold his gaze. His breathing was shaky, and his eyes searched your face for any signs that you wanted him to let you go. After a few moments he was satisfied, and he spoke.

“And what would my wife have me do to correct such a transgression?” his eyes had a feral look you had never seen before. You snaked your arms around his neck and grabbed a fist full of his hair, pulling his head back to give you access to his neck. He whined as you planted several soft kisses there before you finally answered his question.

“Ruin me.”

Before you knew what was happening, Diluc grabbed your hips and threw you over his shoulder. Without a word he turned and quickly made his way across his chambers, tossing you onto his bed. He lifted your nightdress off of you easily, exposing your naked body to the cool night air. You reached out for him, craving his touch. He stood between your legs where you sat on the edge of his bed, and held your face in his hands. His breathing was increasingly labored, and you could feel yourself start to shake from excitement. Your face was so close to his. After what felt like an eternity, he leaned down and took your lips in a crushing kiss.

He kissed you like he was starving. His hands continued to wander, familiarizing himself with your body inch by inch. You bit his bottom lip, making him groan.

“Do that again and see what it gets you.” You most certainly would have, but he didn’t give you the chance. He quickly moved to your neck, biting and licking his way down to your chest. You leaned back, letting your husband explore your body. He took one of your nipples into his mouth, lightly grazing his teeth over it as he rolled your other nipple between his fingers. You brought a hand up to your mouth, trying to hide the moans spilling from your lips. His hand shot up and grabbed your wrist before intertwining his fingers with yours, bringing your hand away from your face.

“I want to hear you, angel. You can’t hide from me anymore.” He continued teasing your nipples, and slowly made his way down until he was between your thighs. He spread your legs wide, pushing your knees towards your chest. You whined, feeling hopelessly exposed with your husband's mouth inches from your pussy. Kissing your inner thighs, he began to suck and bite lightly, leaving marks that only he would ever see.

“Tell me you want me.” Diluc’s voice was demanding. You hoisted yourself onto your elbows so you could look at him. He had completely halted his actions, waiting for your response. You fell back, covering your eyes with your hands. You were suddenly feeling shy and your voice died in the back of your throat. Your husband moved upwards slightly, reaching for your face. You peeked through your fingers at him and he took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips. He kissed each of your fingers and then your palm before turning it over to plant a final kiss just above your knuckles.

“Tell me you want me, angel. Tell me how to love you- I’ll give you anything. Everything. I’ll give you all of me.” you felt tears pricking at your eyes as his words started to overwhelm you.

“Gods, I want you Diluc, please-” you started to cry, “Take what is yours and make me come!” As soon as the words left your lips, his mouth was on your pussy. You were impossibly wet and your juices coated his tongue. He pushed your knees back to your chest again, giving him greater access to your core. He licked a long stripe from your pussy to your clit, and taking it between his lips he began to suck gently, flicking his tongue as he did.

“Fuck!” you sobbed as he continued his relentless attacks on your now puffy and swollen clit. You could feel yourself close to your release, reaching down and grabbing Diluc’s hair, pushing him further into you. Just as you were about to fall over the edge, he stopped.

“Not yet, angel.” He kissed your thighs and then began to make his way back up to your neck. You whined in frustration, infuriatingly close to coming undone. He peppered your chest and neck with kisses before meeting your lips again. Tasting yourself on his tongue felt wicked. You quickly pulled away, trying to push him back down between your legs. He resisted, and when you huffed in response, he grinned ear to ear.

“You’re a cruel man, Master Diluc.” you crossed your arms, trying desperately to seem angrier than you actually were.

“Not cruel enough, it seems.” he growled in your ear, and suddenly plunged two fingers into your pussy. You gasped at the sudden intrusion, arching your back from the pleasure. You gripped his biceps and did everything you could not to scream. He slowed his fingers for a moment to let you catch your breath.

“Like this?” he asked, moving his fingers in and out of your pussy messily, “Or like this?” he stilled his fingers, curling them up into the spongy spot inside of you. You choked as he began to stroke your clit with his thumb, and you could feel a familiar sensation building inside of you.

“Like that, oh- please, Diluc!” you threw your arms around his neck as he pleasured you, finding his lips as fresh tears started to fall down your cheeks.

“Give it to me, angel. Let go.” you felt a coil snap in your core and your vision went white, screaming your husband's name as you came on his fingers. He didn’t let up, and you began to writhe under him from the overstimulation. He was a greedy man, and he wanted everything from you. You felt the coil quickly tighten again and just as you came down from your first high, you fell apart for a second time, squirting all over Diluc’s hand. His movements slowed finally, and he gently pulled his fingers out of you. He brought them up to his mouth and sucked them clean of your essence, not wasting a single drop. You were completely out of breath, still holding onto your husband tightly. You were both sweaty, and he loosened your grip so he could sit up and pull you into his lap. You realized he was still clothed from the waist down, and wanting to return the favor you reached for his pants trying to remove them. He stopped you, and when you began to pout he couldn’t help but laugh. He got up and walked into the bathroom to begin drawing a hot bath for you.

He walked back to the bed where you were still pouting, mumbling things he couldn’t quite make out. He leaned down, his hands on either side of your hips as he rested his forehead on your shoulder. You reached up and began running your fingers through his long hair, and your mumbling quieted as you began to pepper the top of his head with soft kisses. Steadying himself, he kissed your collarbone and then looked up at you.

“That’s enough for tonight, angel. Let me clean you up.” He helped you to your feet, but your legs were too wobbly to walk after two back to back orgasms. You begrudgingly let him carry you to your bath, and afterwards you carefully put your nightdress back on. You found him sitting by his window, an open book on his chest as he began to doze. You lightly brushed your fingers across his cheek, earning you another smile.

“Would you like to stay with me tonight?” he asked quietly, without opening his eyes. When you didn’t answer immediately, he frowned and peeked at you in hopes of catching your expression. You had your hands on your hips, and let out an exasperated sigh. You sat on his lap and put your elbows on his chest, resting your chin in your hands.

“Master Diluc asking his wife to stay overnight with him in his chamber? Hell must have frozen over!” you tried to sound sarcastic, but your giggling gave you away. Diluc quickly wrapped you in his arms and bombarded you with kisses, making you laugh even more as you tried to escape his grasp.

“If Hell is frozen over,” he continued his relentless attack, “it was most definitely your doing.” He stilled and shuddered when you placed a cold hand on the back of his neck. You smiled, satisfied.

“Yes, I want to stay with you tonight. If you’ll have me.” Diluc suddenly stood up, bringing you with him. Holding you close, he kissed your forehead and laughed in response.

“Good, because I wasn’t going to let you leave.”

#diluc x reader #diluc smut #diluc fluff #diluc ragnvindr #diluc x fem!reader #diluc genshin impact #genshin smut #ok smut is actually kinda hard to write be nice to me pls #this fic is eating me alive rn send HELP #super sleep deprived when i edited this so fingers crossed it makes sense

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kaashikuroo · 3 years

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oooooh i was wondering if you could do the break up prank on atsumu and tendou like an angst to fluff type beat cause im addicted to it apparently haha have a good day!!

Of course! Thank you and same to you.

Pranks you pull on them -Haikyuu hcs

Characters: Atsumu and Tendō.

Genre: Angst to fluff.

Warnings: Mentions of breakup, tears.

Part 1: Kenma and Kuroo

MASTERLIST

Requests? Send ‘em here!

Atsumu:

Atsumu always had a soft spot for you.

He’d never raise his voice at you. When you had arguments, he’d take care of the situation quickly ‘cuz he doesn’t like fighting with you.

So you like the biggest douche on the planet when you sent a text to him, asking him if you could come over to his place cuz you wanted to make a dramatic exit to talk about something important.

You knew you made him anxious by yiour vague text, but what could you do? One of your friends not rlly dared you to do the break up prank on him or they’ll deem you unworthy of being their friend. Like srsly that’s your sign to leave 😃❓

So here you were, in his living room as he took a seat on the couch. When he saw that you were still standing, he got confused.

“Y/n~ Take a seat, babe. You hate standing.”

You couldn’t do this to him 🥺

But on the other hand, you also wanted to see how he’d react.

“It’s kind of urgent, Miya-san.”

His ears perked up as he stood up with a confused, but serious expression. Shit got real when you addressed him formally.

“What’s wrong, babe?” He stood up infront of you, trying to look stern but to you he looked like a lost puppy.

“I want to break up with you.”

——

Atsumu felt his entire world stop as you said those words.

He looked so confused as he tried to recall all the moments you two spent together, trying to find out if you were unhappy with him all this while.

“You what…?” His stern facade compeletly faded as his voice cracked.

“Wh-Where did it all go wrong? I’ll fix it baby. I’ll fix everything. I’ll change for you. Please don’t leave me. Just p-please don’t leave.” His voice was cracking all over the place as his eyes filled up with tears.

His mind was racing to all your happy moments.

He couldn’t lose you. You were the one who kept him together. You were the reason he was so happy with his life. He couldn’t handle the heartache of just imagining you leave.

It hurt you to see him so vulnerable.

But your last straw was when he knelt on the ground and buried his face in your stomach, sobs wrecking his throat.

You couldn’t bear it anymore.

The last thing you wanted to do was make him cry.

“‘Tsumu…” You tried to make him look at you as you touched his arms to make him stand up.

But he just shrugged you off.

“No! I won’t let you leave! Please give me a reason! Plea-se..” He was sobbing uncontrollably.

“‘Tsumu. I’m not leaving you, baby.” You said, raking his hair.

“H-huh?” He’d raise his head, looking at you with a confused, tear-stricken face.

You successfully pulled him up this time.

“It was just a prank. My stupid friends made me do it.” You said, wrapping your arms around his figure.

“Y-ya i-idiot!” He hugged you even tighter as you tried to soothe him by rubbing his back.

“Ya had me s-so worried. Y-you’re evil!”

You chuckled.

“I won’t leave you TsumTsum. I love you too much.” You pecked his shoulder as tears made their way down your face at the feeling of guilt from making him cry.

idk ‘bout y’all but i automatically get tears in my eyes when i see someone crying 😃❓

“Why are ya cryin’ now? Huh? Do I need to prove to you that I’m the best boyfriend in the world.”

He chuckled a little as he realized you weren’t going anywhere.

“Regardless, babe, don’t ya ever leave me. A can’t live without ya.”

He pulled away and smiled at you, making you smile back at him.

You both wiped eachother’s tears.

“A love you, honey.” He kissed your forehead.

“But! Ya ain’t gettin’ off the hook so easily! Love me!”

Mans carried you to the bedroom

What are legs when you have Miya Atsumu? 🦵❓

Would make you cut off connections with your ‘friends’

Tendō:

Mans has been rejected so much in his childhood- istg- 😭❓

You got asked one day from one of your friends that “What would happen if you guys broke up?”

You were genuinely clueless- cuz- you’ve never thought of leaving him. 🧍🏻‍♀️

Would suggest you to do the break up prank on him just to see his reaction.

Strikes your interest.

You dumb hoe. 😃❓

“Tendō.” You suddenly called out to him while scrolling through your feed.

“It’s Sato to you, missy.” Would joke from the other side of the couch.

“Tendō.”

You’d defo catch his attention this time.

“I’m sorry.” Would apologize without hesitation, putting down his phone, turning his attention to you.

“I did something wrong, right?” Would look at you with soft eyes.

“No. I just need to talk to you.” You kept your voice hard.

“What’s up?” Attempts to hold your hand but you swat it away, making him frown.

“I’m frustrated with this. With us.” You’d say, rolling your eyes.

You felt like the biggest scum on the planet rlly. As you should 🤡❓

Mans would stop breathing for a second.

“You’re kidding.” He stated, looking into your eyes trying to find some sort of a hint that you were joking.

“Tendō. I’m serious. I’m done with you. I can’t stand you anymore.”

How could you be so cruel 😭😭😭❓

Mans is stunned for a minute.

Blinks before looking down.

“I’m sorry if I did something to offend you. Please let’s talk this out. Don’t walk away. Please, love.” Will refuse to look into your eyes.

You stood your ground no matter how much you wanted to embrace the living shit out of him. cuz same 😔✊

“No. I can’t stay here.”

You were a bit confused as you saw Tendō nodding a little, stepping aside, heading somewhere.

Before you could question him he started talking.

“I understand. I’ll help you pack. But please think about this with a cool mind afterwards, love.”

You caught a glimpse of his trembling lips and his tear stained face as he passed by you, heading to your shared bedroom.

You knew you had to act quick here.

You literally just shattered this man’s heart 😭😭😭

“Babe! Come back, please! It was a joke!” You exclaimed as you caught a hold of his arm in time.

You saw him wiping his tears before turning around to face you.

“Joke? I don’t understand, love.”

Pls- his eyes were so red, you teared up

You quickly explained the whole scenario to him, not wanting him to be left in that heartbroken state any longer.

“I’m sorry, Sato. I didn’t mean to hurt you this bad.” You cupped his cheeks, caressing them.

“I really love you, Sato. I’d never leave you. Please know that.”

Now Tendō was smiling.

“I know, love.” He says, embracing you.

“But don’t pull something off like that again. It really hurt.”

You nodded.

“Sato~~”

He pulled away, looking at you curiously.

“Crouch down a bit for me, please? Eyes closed!”

Looks comfused but obliges anyway.

When his face was infront of yours, you cupped his cheeks and placed a gentle kiss on top of his forehead.

“That felt really good. Do that more often.” He smiled, seeming relaxed.

Would flick your forehead.

“That’s your punishment.” Laughs a little.

“Now you have to love me all night. You know what that means?” He wiggled his eyebrows at you.

You gasped comically

“SLUMBER PARTYYYY” You’d squeal together, holding hands, jumping up and down like 5 year olds.

“I’ll get the face masks!”

“And I’ll get the snacks!”

well- 😃❓ that escalated quickly 🤡✋

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 3 years

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ValenTWST Day 3

Day 3 Prompt: Past / “It would be so much easier to kill you if you weren’t so cute.”

“Cowards die many times before their deaths; / The valiant never taste of death but once.”

[Day 1] / [Day 2] / [You’re on Day 3!] / [Day 4] / [Day 5] / [Day 6] / [Day 7]

Before any of y’all come for my throat or point and laugh and shout “HAH, CLOSETED L*ONA SIMP!!”, BIG FAT DISCLAIMER that Valentine prompts can be about non-romantic forms of love as well or literally about anything 💖... Anyway, consider this the proverbial “Scar throwing a bone at Zazu” scene 😷 cuz I’m throwing you a bone—

Imagine this...

It is said that the King of Beasts had an indispensable hornbill advisor at his side. Though they did not always see eye-to-eye, they made for a dynamic duo that ushered the Sunset Savanna into an age of prosperity. Perhaps their greatest accomplishment was uniting the various tribes of the land through purely diplomatic means.

“Purely diplomatic means, huh...” Ruggie peered out from behind his worn magic history textbook.

His dorm leader and the headmaster’s niece were locked in a heated argument. The air between them was so thick and charged with tension that even Ruggie doubted he could cut in with a joke to ease it.

Another week, another squabble to sit through. If he didn’t, he suspected that either Leona would tear out Raven’s throat, or Raven would peck Leona’s eyes out. (Both of those scenarios were gross hyperbole, but it made Ruggie snicker to himself all the same.)

A classic tale as old as time, nishishishishi!

“I cannot believe you skipped another one of Professor Trein’s classes,” Raven was saying, marking off a paper on her clipboard. “That’s the fourth time this week.”

“I don’t need to sit through his lectures. I could pass Ancient Curses with my eyes closed.”

“You’re still missing so many points for attendance and unfinished assignments, even if you ace the exams!! If you keep this up... just how exactly do you plan to meet the minimum requirements to graduate?”

“I didn’t realize you cared so much, canary,” Leona scoffed sarcastically. His mattress creaked as he rolled over onto his side, presenting his back to Raven.

Snubbing her.

A spike of irritation shot through the bird, but she managed to wrangle it and shove it down.

Raven scrambled onto the other side of the bed, forcing the lion to look her in the eye as she continued to chastise him. “You’ve already been held back twice.

“Congratulations, you can count.” Leona flopped onto his belly, directing his gaze at his headboard and the various pillows piled up against it.

“Three is a lucky number. Now is your chance to correct the mistakes of your past and prove that you can succeed!”

“What would you know of my past?”

“... Okay, so maybe I don’t know those details, but I know one thing for certain.” She took a deep breath and adopted a stern expression. “When one fixates on the past, it will consume you, prevent you from moving forward with your life—and that kind of a cruel fate isn’t anything I would wish upon anyone.”

The muscles of his back shifted, stiffening. “You speak as though you know from experience.”

“Well, maybe I do. And maybe I don’t want to see anyone else going down the same dark path. The past is in the past. You should just let it go.”

“What dark experiences do you even have to speak of?”

“You don’t know me as well as you think you do. Or, as a little kitty cat once told me not too long ago, ‘What would you know of my past?’”

Leona scoffed, finally drawing himself up from his mattress. He graced her with an intense stare, like that of a predator sizing up its prey. “... Hmph, you really do take after that useless old Crowley. I guess it’s true what they say: birds of a feather flock together.”

Raven bristled, her feathers puffing up. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means exactly what it sounds like. You use kindness as an excuse for being weak.” Leona folded his arms, his mouth twisting into a smirk. “Isn’t that right?”

“Wh-What...!! Don’t presume to know what I’m like!”

“If only you would extend the same courtesy to me, canary.��

“There is only so much I can do for someone that refuses to help himself. If this is how you’re going to behave, you'll never be worthy of wearing any crown.”

Leona’s expression changed. His pupils were but pinpricks, the muscles in his body tensing and preparing to pounce.

Ruggie instantly recognized the murderous intent set in Leona, the shaking rage that seized Raven. Tossing his textbook aside, he quickly lodged himself between the duo.

“Uhhh, okay! Time out!!” The hyena cried with a nervous laugh. “Maybe you guys should chill for a sec?”

“... No need,” Raven huffed, brushing by him. “It’s clear that this was a waste of time. If you will excuse me, I must be elsewhere. I have other tasks to complete.”

“We’re not done talking yet,” Leona snarled, leaping onto his feet. “Don’t you dare turn your back on me.”

But turn her back she did, and, without another word, she made a dash for the exit.

What happened next was a blur.

A flash of wild mane and muscle, feathers flying through the air, Ruggie’s mouth wrenched wide in awe. A roar, panicked squawking, the resounding THUD as Leona slammed Raven to the ground. Her clipboard skidding across the floor, making harsh contact with Ruggie’s foot.

“... Pinned you.” Leona announced triumphantly as he loomed over his catch.

His emerald eyes shone with wicked delight, even when shrouded by his own shadow. Gravity tugged on his loose shirt, revealing a sculpted chest—a reminder that he could easily crush her, whether with his bare hands or with magic.

“G-Get off of me, you brute!!” Raven demanded, flailing around—but Leona had a firm leash on her wrists. She dug her kneecaps into his stomach and attempted to throw him off, but to no avail.

“Or what?” he challenged, bringing his face closer to taunt her. His teeth were luminous, the only light she was fortunate enough to catch. “You’ll cry ‘Uncle’?”

“L-Leona-san!! Let’s not do anything too hasty...!!”

“Quiet, Ruggie. I’m having a chat with our little guest here.”

“Grk...” The hyena’s ears flattened, but he passed Raven a sympathetic smile.

“This frightened look suits you better,” the prince continued, returning his attention her. She stared back at him, her eyes wide. “Animals on the lower rungs of the food chain should know better than to bark at the wrong predator.”

His grip tightened, forcing a whimper of pain out of Raven. Magic threatened to spill from his fingertips—magic that would vaporize her into nothing more than particles of sand.

“I could kill you if I wanted to--right here, right now. I could make it so I never have to hear another insolent chirp out of your mouth ever again.”

Trapped beneath him, she quivered. A potent concoction of apprehension and anger boiled up from the pit of her stomach.

“It’ll stroke your ego, but it ultimately won’t make you feel any better,” Raven spat. “But go ahead, kill me and prove to everyone that you’re just as bad as they think you are--or you can step down and prove them wrong.”

They held onto each other’s gazes. Hard emerald and amber, entangled in a silent clash for dominance. The atmosphere, stifling.

For someone so small, Raven certainly didn’t back down. There was a fire in her, a flame that flared when prodded a certain way and pushed back against his own. It was a trait reminiscent of the Sunset Savanna’s strongest women, decorated heroes of old, and great kings of the past.

The sort of look that was inlaid in the stars above.

“... Hah. Hahahahah!! Listen to you, bargaining for your life when you’re still shaking like a newborn.” Leona’s sneer was laced with laughter. “This is life and death, and yet you can still find it within yourself to talk back. You’re really something else, canary.”

He released her wrists, his shadow receding as he stood, a hand on his waist. “Ruggie, the clipboard.”

“Clipboard, gotcha!” The hyena plucked it up from the ground and thrust it at the flabbergasted Raven. “Take good care of your things, Raven-kun~”

“... I knew you had it in you to be ‘good’,” she said, standing and tucking the clipboard under an arm. Her gaze was trained on Leona, not Ruggie. “You really can do anything if you put your mind t—”

“Don’t be mistaken. I’m only letting you live because it’d be a waste to kill off the headmaster’s cute little niece so soon.” His expression was the pinnacle of smug. “You’re good for a laugh—and as leverage. That’s all.”

Raven’s lips formed a straight line. She seemed to fight with her next words, opening her mouth, closing it, and swallowing in succession.

“... I’d better hear that you attended Ancient Curses tomorrow,” she said at last.

Then she dusted off her skirt, turned on her heel, and scurried out.

This time, Leona let her go.

And Ruggie finally burst out cackling like a mad man. All of his repressed laughter came flooding out in an uncontrollable torrent.

“Wow, you really suck at this kind of stuff, Leona-san,” Ruggie gasped out, arms hugging his aching stomach. “You got the whole ‘prince’ thing goin’ for ya but still managed to mess it up... Claws out on a ‘first date’ is definitely a big no-go, nishishishi!!”

“Shut up,” Leona roared, his expression scathing. “Do you see me laughing? No? You’re the only one that thinks this is funny.”

“And I’m enjoying eeevery second of it!” Ruggie shook his head, a massive grin on his face. “There’s always next time to look forward to~”

#twst oc #Leona Kingscholar #twst #twisted wonderland #Ruggie Bucchi #twisted wonderland oc #Raven Crowley #valentwst2022 #disney twisted wonderland #something no one asked for #twisted wonderland scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #almost murder is the best kind of relationship ❤️

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xenia-cenia · 3 years

Text

Xiao x Fem!Reader - Fall

A/N-I’m back and finally writing the scene I’ve planned for him for weeks, shoutout to riko on youtube for making genshin playlists which are carrying my motivation

You guys: please xenia make the characters have happier backstories

Me: haha traumatic childhoods go brrrr

Trigger/Content Warnings: implied suicidal thoughts, spider mention, kidnapping, trauma, death of minor characters

Word Count: 1,669

Request: No

Summary: flying love confession but more dramatic this time

Stars fell from the sky and landed in his palm. His eyes glimmered in the infinite darkness. How long has he been in this void, the only light being the falling stars? The only sound being death thralls and screams for help?

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to be better, but he was tired.

Stars fell from the sky and struck through his ribs. They ripped his heart in two and pierced his lungs. Xiao was tired.

Xiao was tired.

He wanted to shut his eyes and see all of his friends again, to apologize to the lives he stole and hold himself tightly. He wanted to save himself. He wanted to be better.

Xiao wanted to sleep.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his hand. For the first time in centuries, he holds them to his eye and gazes into their lives. It was to satisfy his curiosity. A quick peek into them, then he’ll never look again. He promised himself this a million times.

Stars fall from the sky and show him something beautiful. Lights, cheers, and smiles. Xiao was tired. Xiao wanted to be better. Xiao wanted to be in the stars. He wanted to hold the stars and keep them safe.

Stars fall from his hands and shatter against the ground.

Xiao was tired.

“XIAO!” A panicked voice drew Xiao from his thoughts. How long has he been standing at this balcony? The sun had long since set. He gave himself half a second to think it over before grabbing his polearm and heading to the scared person.

He burst through the door, heavy breaths filling his chest as he surveyed the room. “(Y/N)?” Xiao called into the seemingly empty room.

“X-Xiao!” Your muffled voice came from under a blanket. You flipped the sheets down and looked at him with the biggest puppy eyes he’d ever seen, “There’s a... a spider.”

His shoulders relaxed and he sighed, “Where?” With a shaky finger, you pointed on the ground by Xiao's foot. Without a second of hesitation, he stomped on it and turned to leave, “Mortals fear the most common of things...”

“Wait!” You called. “Xiao!”

“What is it now?”

“I’m kinda freaked out...” You twiddled your thumbs over the blanket, “Can I sit with you on the balcony?”

Xiao grunted in response, stepping out of the way and holding the door open for you with an expectant yet frustrated look on his face. “I don’t want to talk.”

“That’s fine.” You nervously smiled and followed him onto the balcony. He walked to the edge and leaned on the railing, his eyes slightly widening as he gazed at the stars.

You followed loosely behind, always being sure to keep distance, and looked at the pools of water below Wangshu Inn. Twirls of water lapping against the shores, flickering flames fading into the sand, a serene peacefulness as you gazed into a world you’d never know.

Cool winds grazed your face, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Stop.”

“What?” You opened your eyes when you heard Xiao's stern voice, his eyes were half-closed with a glint of anger, it wasn’t until you felt the railing biting into your ribs that you knew what was happening.

“If you keep leaning like that, you’ll fall. And you can’t rely on me to catch you.”

You straightened your posture and sighed, “I’m sorry, I-”

He grunted and turned back to the stars. With a slight tilt of your head, you could almost imagine how many stars the adepti has seen through his life. Hundreds? Thousands? Did they shine brilliantly in his memory, or were they dimmed like todays were?

“Do you think the stars listen?” You asked without thinking.

He left his hand on the railing and turned to you, confusion lacing his expression, “What are you talking about?”

You paid his silent judgment no mind and continued, “The stars. Do you think they hear us? When we wish and cry and pray, do they listen?”

“The stars don’t listen, adepti do.”

A sad smile flickered on your lips as you reached your fingers towards the stars, “You’ve always been so hard to talk to, Xiao.”

“Don’t talk like you know me.”

“Sorry, sorry. I just want to blabber, honestly. Do you mind listening?”

He grunted softly, “Mortals and their...” he sighed, “Fine.”

You gripped the railing and took a deep breath, “When I was a kid, I was always terrified of the adepti.” You laughed uncomfortably as Xiao stiffened, “I know it’s not... well, it’s not what you really want to hear, is it? I wouldn’t want to hear that. But, I remember I was, ahhh, 12? 13? I was young. I was very young when it happened.”

Xiao turned away from you, his fingers digging into his arms as he bit his lip.

“I was taken hostage. I don’t remember most of it. But, I... I remember when they took me.” Your voice quivered, “They killed my parents in front of me. It was my fault, y’know. My parents were already unconscious and if I came willingly, they would have survived. I have no family left, and part of me is thankful. I don’t think I could look any of them in the eyes and explain what happened that night. How their baby girl killed them.”

“Did you turn the blade on them?”

“Xiao, I-”

“Did you turn the blade on them? If not, it wasn’t your fault. You said yourself, you were a child. Would you blame a child for the failings of adults?”

“...no.”

“Then why are you blaming yourself?”

You sighed, “Xiao, you’re a... you’re a really nice guy.”

He flinched, “You should sleep. Mortals have weaker bodies.”

“O... okay. Goodnight, Xiao.” You called after him as he walked away. After he left your eyesight, you looked back towards the water, sighed, and went to bed.

You spent hours tossing and turning in your bed. In frustration, you leaped out of bed and walked down Wangshu Inn, stopping only at the shoreline so you could dip your toes in the water and relax.

With the splashing waves and your pounding heart, you couldn’t hear the footsteps crunch on the sand behind you. You hadn’t had the time to process what was happening until you felt yourself lose consciousness.

Dripping water.

Flickering candles.

Harsh wind.

You opened your bleary eyes and pulled yourself up. Where were you? What happened? The room you woke up in was small, with one bed, a door, and a window. With shaky steps, you walked to the door and pulled.

A sharp blast of electricity ran through your palms, you recoiled in pain and took a step backward as tears began to blot your vision. With an angry growl, you glared at the door and stumbled over to the window.

You felt your eyes widen as you looked down. Miles of bricks and dirt leading to ground you couldn’t see.

The door behind you opened, you spun and saw a woman with white hair and piercing blue eyes. She looked you up and down, her eyes scanning you in a way that gave you chills, and smiled sweetly.

“Welcome, dear.”

“Wh...what?”

“Do you know how hard you are to track down? Years and you seem to escape our grasp each time. It’s quite tiring, dear, I was just about ready to give up.”

“Years?” You echoed in a breathy voice.

“Years.” She confirmed. “Truly, I don’t know why we keep going after you. But the Princess gets what she wants. Ah, how she’s wanted you to join us for years.”

“What Princess?”

“Oh.” Her eyes flared, “The Princess of the Abyss.”

“I-I have no idea...”

“What I’m talking about? They never do.” She stalked towards you, “Even now, I can sense the power inside of you.”

You pressed yourself against the window and felt your heart rate increase.

“I wonder what lies below your skin. What oozes from your veins.” She hummed, her voice low as she spoke, “I’d love to see.”

“I...” Your throat was dry as you attempted to reply. She stepped towards you, her arms on either side of your head, a polite smile on her lips. “I don’t...”

“It’s quite beautiful outside, isn’t it?” She pointed behind you and gazed at the night sky. “I’ve always thought the night was a bit boring, however, tonight seems to shine.” She leaned down and whispered into your ear, “I wonder if your fear is what makes them so brilliant?”

“Th... them?”

She laughed suddenly and loudly as she pulled away, “Oh, the stars of course!”

“The stars...” your voice fell quiet.

The woman crossed the room and smiled at you, “Well, darling, you should rest. You have a very busy day tomorrow.” She grabbed the door and grinned as electricity pulsed through her skin, a bounce in her step as she opened the door and left you alone.

You turned towards the window and took a deep breath. You pulled yourself onto the ledge and stood up. Slowly and shakily, you turned to face the window, clasped your hands in front of your chest, and let yourself fall.

“Xiao,” you whispered as you fell. “I hope you were lying.”

Stars fall from the sky and grab his attention. He breaks into a sprint and is long gone before anyone can recognize what happened.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to be faster, but he was tired.

Stars fall from the sky and cry.

Stars fall from the sky and talk to him on his lonely nights.

Stars fall from the sky and smile.

Stars fall from the sky and trust him.

Stars fall from the sky and call him good.

Xiao was tired.

Xiao wanted to save the stars. Xiao wanted to be better than he ever was.

Stars fall from the sky and Xiao hears himself scream.

Stars fall from the sky and he prays that he’s fast enough.

Stars fall from the sky and he takes heavy breaths.

Stars fall from the sky and land in his arms.

Xiao was fast enough.

“You idiot.” He growled as he landed, his hands curling around you, “What happened?!”

You laughed nervously and threw your arms around him in a tight hug. “You caught me.”

“It’s my duty.” He hadn’t realized he was hugging you back until his hands connected with the soft clothes you were wearing. “I’ll...” he stopped himself. Was he really about to say that? No.

You pulled away from the hug and swiped your thumb under his eyes, “Please, don’t cry.” You spoke in a trembling voice.

“What? I’m not-” he shifted your weight to one arm and felt his eyes. “Oh.”

As Xiao gazes into your smile, his heart rate settles and he couldn’t deny the sense of calm. “I’ll always catch you if you fall.”

Stars landed in his arms and blush.

Stars landed in his arms and say ‘I love you.’

Xiao was awake.

Xiao was fast enough.

Xiao was good enough.

Xiao was enough.

Xiao smiled softly, “Mortals... always so dramatic.” He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, “I could get used to it.”

#THIS TOOK SO LONG #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao genshin #xiao genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact #xiao genshin x you #xiao genshin x reader #x reader #x you #fanfiction #one shot #x reader fanfiction #my writing #happy endings #saved by xiao

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gamerwoo · 4 years

Text

[Tales from the Pack] Hansol: Fire and Ice (Part Nine)

Characters: Hansol x female reader

Genre/warnings: werewolf au, fantasy, mostly angst BUT there’s some fluff especially toward the end (it’s still kinda angsty fluff but like it’s still fluff ok i promise)

Word count: 3,385

Summary: You’ve always been one to let your emotions get the best of you – your power reflects that – and you’ve never been good at expressing them. That’s why you always thought you’d be awful with a mate, but you never thought things would be this awful.

a/n: things in bold are in english and things in italics are a dream

Previous | Next | Fire and Ice Masterlist

Nobody was surprised when you left after lunch. You didn’t even look at Hansol when you thanked everyone for lunch before quickly leaving the house to go wherever it was you went during the day. So Hansol waited for you outside. He laid back and watched the clouds as they slowly rolled through the sky. When the sun started to set, he went inside to get a sweater because Soomin was giving him a hard time about it. He also unpacked everything he’d grabbed from your old pack’s house, placing clothes on top of the dresser, making sure they were neatly folded, and putting pictures in various parts of the room so you could look at them. And then he put the blanket on the end of the bed, deciding you could choose what you did with it.

Before he left the room, he grabbed you a new sweater to wear. Then he found himself back outside again, waiting.

And that’s how you found him. It was only a couple hours until midnight when you returned to the house. Hansol was sitting on the lawn in the same place you’d found him the night before, except you could smell your brother’s scent mixed with his. You didn’t know why or what he’d done, but you were ready to start asking why he smelled so much like Jiung. However, when you finally stood about two feet away, just staring down at him, all you did was stare. You, for some reason, didn’t get angry.

Hansol looked up at you before handing you the grey sweater. You stared at it for a beat of silence before you slowly reached out to touch it. It was soft and still smelled exactly like Jiung, unlike the sweater currently adorning your body. The scent on your current one was starting to fade.

You took off your sweater, your t-shirt riding up, but Hansol wasn’t staring. Then you tossed yours in Hansol’s lap before taking the new one and tugging it on over your head. The sleeves were too long as you expected, but you preferred it like that.

“Where’d you get this?” you finally asked, your voice quiet.

Hansol seemed surprised you spoke to him, but his voice didn’t waver, “I went to give the ring to the pack today. I brought some stuff from there for you and left it in your room.”

That caught you off guard, “…For me?”

“Yeah,” he nodded with a soft smile. He pushed himself to stand up. “Do you want to go see?”

You let him lead you into the house and up the stairs. The entire place was silent, which was surprising to you since there were so many werewolves. Then again, they all seemed to have their own rooms, which meant not many people to talk to at night before bed, so they had no reason to be noisy – unless other things were happening, but you’d rather not hear that.

Hansol opened the bedroom door and allowed you in first. Immediately, your nose was attacked with familiar smells from your old pack, and from Jiung. Your eyes landed on multiple pictures – both in and out of frames – sweaters, and the familiar blanket that your mother had made for Jiung.

The first thing you did was look at the pictures. Some were yours, but some were Jiung’s. There were a few of you and your family, including one you hadn’t seen in years, but it was Jiung’s favorite: you and him at age six, standing up against a wall at your parents’ house as one of your older siblings measured your heights. You and him were the same height back then. After that, you both got hit with growth spurts, but he shot up faster and higher than you. He was the tallest in the house, and you were pretty sure he was even taller than Mingyu.

There was another picture you looked at that you had only seen as a child. You didn’t know that Jiung even still had it, but here it was: the picture of your birth parents. You knew it was left with you when you were abandoned, but you didn’t know if your adoptive parents had thrown it out or left it behind or if it simply got lost at some point between all the family trips.

“You know,” Hansol spoke up. You turned around, expecting him to be right behind you, but he was still standing between the room and the hallway, “I don’t know if you resent your birth parents, but you look a lot like them.”

You carefully set the picture back down where you got it, keeping your eyes on Hansol, “What if I do resent them?”

He just shrugged, “I’d still tell you the truth.”

You had to admit, you respected his answer. At least you knew he wouldn’t say something he didn’t mean just to please you.

You turned your entire body to face him, letting out a deep sigh, “I’m…gonna shower.”

“Okay,” he nodded, stepping away from the doorway. “I’ll be downstairs if you need anything. Goodnight, _____.”

He turned and left, not expecting you to say anything in reply.

You went down the hall and found the bathroom was mostly the same as well. There were new toiletries and a few new towels, but you knew at least the shower worked all the same.

After scrubbing yourself clean of way too many days worth of dirt and grime, you got out of the shower, quickly dried off, and threw your underwear and sweater back on. You carried the rest of your clothes back to your room with you before tossing them in a hamper placed in the corner of the room.

Right before you got into bed, your eyes caught the blanket on the end of the bed. While part of you wanted to cuddle with it for the night, another part of you knew that touching it would erase more of the scent. So you took the blanket and placed it over the back of the chair before going to get into bed. You leaned over to shut off the lamp, closed your eyes, and waited for sleep to take you.

You hoped for another dreamless sleep, praying the nightmares were over. But of course, with your shitty luck, you found yourself back at the burned rubble where Eunjin had found you. Only this dream felt different; it felt…real. But you knew you weren’t awake because rain was pelting your skin, and you always felt uncomfortable in the rain. Rain made it difficult for you to use your power, so you tried to avoid it as much as possible. Except this time, the rain felt…nice.

Like most of your dreams lately, you felt like you were being watched. You never knew who or what it was that kept its eyes on you, but it didn’t feel like it was anything menacing. You usually elected to ignore it anyway.

“_____?”

Your head whipped around to see Jia, the blind mate. However, she was walking on her own, and her eyes stared directly at you instead of through you. You’d heard about her through Danbi and Mingyu, but you never thought she’d find herself in your dream. Was she the one watching you? Was she the reason this dream felt so real this time?

“Jia?” you took a cautious step toward her. “What’s happening?”

Jia just shook her head, “I’m not doing anything, _____. This is your dream.”

“Have you been in my other ones?” you asked.

She nodded, seeming unapologetic about it, “Yes, I have. I have to say, _____, I’m really worried about you.”

“There’s nothing to be worried about,” you scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest. “I may have freaked out once, but it was one time, and now I’m fine.”

“I don’t mean to sound rude, but I think your containing a lot of your emotions. You could have a meltdown again, and–”

“I’m handling my emotions just fine, okay? Besides, Hansol–”

“I’m not talking about Hansol,” Jia interrupted, her voice a little more harsh now, “I’m talking about your brother.”

You grimaced, a low growl coming from your chest, “I don’t have any emotions toward my brother. He’s gone; he’s dead. There’s no point in having emotions toward him.”

“_____…”

While Jia did step away from you, her eyes wide and apologetic, you stalked toward her anyway as anger bubbled inside you, “Don’t talk about him, don’t say his name, don’t–”

“_____.”

This time, when your name was said, it was from a different voice. A voice that sounded way too familiar, but also way too real for you to have made it up. It was that stern ‘alpha’ voice that always got you to listen to him. But despite the tone, it tugged at your heartstrings.

You turned around, seeing Jiung standing only a few yards away with a frown on his face. He didn’t look happy to see you – he never did in your dreams – but he looked rather disappointed more than anything else. You’d seen him look angry or disgusted with you, but never disappointed.

Suddenly, you snapped back to your senses. This was a dream, and since you weren’t creating this image of Jiung, Jia was. You turned to her, snarling as your eyes started to spot red, “Stop doing that.”

Jia held up her hands in surrender, “I swear, I’m not doing that! This is your dream, I don’t have control over it.”

“_____!” Jiung’s voice was rougher now, and you felt a hand on your wrist, tugging you away from the smaller girl. He turned you to face him, is usually golden eyes now turned red. “Stop lashing out.”

“Stop!” you demanded, yanking away from his grasp. “You’re not real! Stop doing this!”

Jiung’s face softened, resting both of his hands on his shoulders, “Yes I am, _____. Don’t you remember those stories mom and dad told us? About the spirit dreams?”

“That was just some old wives’ tale or whatever,” you insisted, averting your eyes.

“So were werewolves,” he chuckled. “Does that mean you’re fake?”

You frowned, shoving your brother away from you, “You can’t even prove you’re real because you’re probably just a figment of my imagination – I already know everything the real Jiung would.”

“I know what happened to your doll when we were seven,” he replied with a mischievous grin.

Slowly, your gaze shifted to look at him, mumbling, “Mom gave it to charity, she told me so.”

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’, “Sabira stole it and ended up getting in a tug-of-war match with the neighbor’s dog. Ask mom, she’ll tell you because she tried to stitch it back together before she had to toss it.

“I also know you never knew Saebyeol’s birth name was Sabira because she only used her birth name when dad would take her to visit India once a year,” he continued, his smile still bright and toothy, just how you remembered when he just knew he was right.

You didn’t know what kind of expression you wore, but you couldn’t stop staring at your brother. How did he know things even you didn’t know? Unless he was making it up somehow? Maybe you were making things up in your head that he could tell you in an attempt to convince you he was real. If so, this figment you or Jia had created was a fantastic liar. But it just seemed too…real.

Either way, you couldn’t stop yourself from tossing yourself in your brothers arms, hugging him as tight as you possibly could as his warm, familiar laugh filled your ears and made your heart swell.

You suddenly pulled away from him, holding him at arms length, “Are you dumb, or what?”

“Huh?” he chuckled.

“Ordering Hanbin to take Hansol instead of you! Are you stupid?!”

Jiung shook his head, “_____, you need Hansol, not me.”

“I don’t need him!” you burst, pushing your brother away from you. “I need you! I hate Hansol for getting you killed. I don’t want to even be in this stupid pack!”

“_____,” Jiung sighed, “I know that’s not how you really feel.”

Jia also knew it wasn’t how you really felt. She’d seen your dreams – your dreams where it was all made up – and you’d get angry and scream and call Jiung dumb for leaving you. You’d never say anything nasty about Hansol in your dreams. Never; not once. In fact, when he showed up was when you’d calm down.

It wasn’t Hansol you were angry with, it was your brother. You’d just buried that fact and hid it with your anger that you’d projected onto Hansol. She wasn’t even sure if you knew that, though.

“You don’t know how I feel!” you frowned, stomping your foot like a child.

“_____,” Jia’s voice was soft as she slowly came up behind you, unsure of how you’d react. She placed a delicate hand on your shoulder, and it felt a lot colder than your skin – you were burning up, in fact, “it’s okay to be mad at Jiung…”

“I’m not mad at Jiung, I’m–!” you cut yourself off, feeling every kind of negative emotion suddenly hit you in a massive wave. Anger, sadness, confusion, fear – you felt it all, and it made you want to be sick or burst out crying or both.

“It’s okay,” Jia nodded, “you have to let it out. Tell him how you feel.”

Your hands balled into fists at your side, your nails digging into your skin. You felt a dull pain because of it, which was weird because you’d never felt any physical pain in your dreams. Your jaw clenched and your eyes slightly stung from tears pricking at them, wanting to just come out.

“It’s okay, _____. He went back for Hansol and told him to go instead. You feel like he left you, and you’re mad. It’s okay to be mad, just let it out.”

Staring at what may or may not have been the spirit of your brother in front of you, the wave of emotion finally broke down every wall you’d built up.

“How could you leave me?!” you demanded. You felt like you wanted your body to just burst into flames to throw right at Jiung’s stupid, dead face. You knew your skin was sparking at least, from the way Jia gasped and jumped back. “How could you just let yourself die like that, huh?! You were supposed to stay with me and protect me, and you just fucking let yourself die, and for what? For me to imprint? For me to be happy?”

You punctuated each sentence with a shove to your brother, your hands pushing against his chest and shoulders. He just let you do it, taking each shove as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. It only made you more angry.

“Well I’m not happy! I’m angry! I’m– I’m hurt and I’m scared, and I hate you! I hate you because I don’t even know if you’re real, and I hate you because you won’t even show one goddamn emotion right now!”

Jiung shook his head, his expression almost cocky, “That’s not why you hate me, _____. You and I both know it”

You let out a scream that didn’t even sound like yourself. You were sobbing and hitting him wherever your fists landed. You were hitting him with all the strength you could muster, but you knew that the flames from your fists wouldn’t do anything to him. He was dead, anyway.

“I hate you for leaving me!” you cried. “You left me, and you didn’t even stop to think about how I’d feel when you made the decision to let yourself get killed! You left me, and you don’t even care! You left me, Jiung! You fucking left me!”

Jiung smiled softly, his eyes shining, “There it is.”

“I hate you!” you told him again, shoving him so hard he actually hit the ground. Even he looked surprised. “Why did you leave me? Why, why, why, why?!”

You fell to your knees, sobs shaking your body, but it was also from anger toward Jiung.

“I hate you. I hate you. I– I–”

“_____!”

Your eyes flew open, and you felt weight pressing down on your arms, but you weren’t laying down. You were sitting up in bed, your back against the headboard as tears streamed down your face. Hansol was on the side of the bed, one foot still on the floor with a knee on the mattress as he held your hands in his. There was bits of frost covering your blanket and the backs of Hansol’s hands, and your fists and wrists felt wet like someone had shoved your hands in water.

Hansol’s eyes were full of concern as he looked at you. He’d heard you screaming and crying, and it woke him up from downstairs. By the time he’d raced up the stairs, almost the entire pack had opened their doors, looking down the hall at your door in concern. Hansol just ignored them, throwing open the door and closing it behind him as he took in the scene before him: your blanket covered in tiny spots of flame, and your fists already completely on fire. He managed to put out the bedding before his hands wrapped around yours, making the flames go out with a sizzle.

Your muscles relaxed slowly as you realized you were awake, and Jiung – if it even was him – was gone. But then the massive throbbing in your head registered, and you broke down crying all over again.

“He left me!” you sobbed, your head hanging as Hansol kept a hold on your wrists. “I hate him!”

Hansol let go of your wrists when he realized you weren’t going to fight him, crawling beside you to wrap his arms around you. You clung to him like your life depended on it, sobbing into his bare chest. He shushed you and rubbed your back, unsure of what exactly happened, but he knew it had to do with Jiung. He was just a bit surprised you were aiming your anger toward your brother and not him.

“Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay,” he cooed softly, pulling you into his lap when he felt your arms wrap around him. “It’s alright, I’ve got you.”

“I hate him,” you kept repeating into Hansol’s neck.

“I know, you’re allowed to be angry at him,” he told you, dipping his head down to try to get you to look at him. “But getting all of this out now will help you to not hate him later.”

You lifted your head slightly to look at Hansol. You heard the soft whine he let out when he saw your face red and covered with tears. He brushed some of the moisture away with his thumb, his face looking genuinely hurt seeing you upset. It made you want to cry all over again. You’d pushed all your anger onto Hansol when you were really just mad at Jiung. And you knew you didn’t really have a reason to be mad at Hansol, you just wanted to give yourself one because you couldn’t be mad at your brother who had died.

You felt awful.

“I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying not to start crying even harder, but looking at how Hansol looked like a kicked puppy just because you were sad made you feel like an ass – and you were one. “I-I don’t hate you.”

Hansol nodded, brushing hair from your face, “I know, _____; it’s okay.”

He pulled you to his chest once again, letting you get all your tears out. Even when he heard Eunjin screaming, he continued to hold you like nothing was happening. Once you’d finally calmed down and had no more tears left, he slid down into bed, laying you down to sleep.

As you felt him pulling the blankets over you, you mumbled sleepily, “If you leave, I won’t blame you.”

While Hansol wasn’t sure if you just meant for tonight or in general, his answer was still the same.

“I’m not going to leave, I promise.”

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kingofkingdom-archive · 4 years

Text

So Much Like Stars - Part ONE

Pairing: Boba Fett x Fem!Reader

Part ONE (read part two here!)

Rating: Explicit

Summary: You’ve known nothing but snow and cold wind your whole life. When a mysterious hunter arrives at your village, you find yourself drawn to him.

Warnings: Explicit sex, p-in-v sex, vaginal fingering, breathplay, power dynamics/power play, royalty kink (?), dom/sub dynamics, naked female clothed male, come marking, unprotected sex, mentions of death (no character death)

Word count: 8.2k+

A/N: This fic is entirely self-indulgent. No one asked for it, but here it is. Boba Fett fucks and we all know it. Or maybe you disagree, in which case you’re wrong. Anyway, enjoy! As usual, there’s no use of Y/N here and please heed the warnings before reading.

Across the windswept, snowy plain, you watch as the ship approaches its landing. It slows, rotates, and then lands face-up on the flat expanse. It’s maybe a kilometer and a half away from the outlook you’re perched on; your binocs are old, no longer reading distance, so the best you can do is guess. The wind blows the snow towards the east, blurring the landscape into obscurity for anyone without a trained eye.

Your cloak, woven from the heavy fur of the Kintur that roam your planet, keeps the driving wind from seeping into your bones. Every inch of your skin is covered, from your leather boots and thick leggings to your goggles and well-worn face mask. You carry a pack, as you always do, to which are strapped your net-shoes that allow you to traverse over massive snowdrifts. At your hip is an old Republic-issue blaster and at your side is your staff, which often acts more as a tool to clear paths and knock snow from tree boughs than anything else.

This planet is nearly uninhabited save for the village you were born in. Seeing a ship is rare, and it’s even rarer to see one that’s unaffiliated with a galactic government. You take note of its location and strain to see if you can spot the pilot as he emerges, but you have no such luck.

You sigh, the wind whistling in your ears, the drifts of snow shifting and growing around you. Father will want you back soon. The newcomer is undoubtedly going to head towards the village, and you’ll need to be there when he arrives. You stow your binocs away in your pack and unstrap your net-shoes, attaching them quickly to your boots.

The trek back is one you’ve managed countless times before - that doesn’t make it any less dangerous, but the sheer cliff faces and howling, punishing winds are not strangers to you.

Your village is small by the standards of other planets in the galaxy, from what you’ve heard (the Elders’ stories of Coruscant never fail to amaze you), but in your eyes it’s vibrant and bustling despite the harsh climate. There’s almost always a tavern with its lights on and music flowing out, a friendly face and warm hearth never far.

It’s located in a secluded valley between towering mountains, out of sight of the vast plains from which the mountains seem to erupt without warning. There are no foothills; only flat land interrupted by harsh terrain. It’s very easy to find death in the mountains, but they have sustained your people for generations. Hunting is your main source of food, whether it be the Kintur that also provide their hide or the massive snow-bison whose fat and bones keep your diets regulated. In the warm season water flows endlessly - the streams that run from the mountain peaks are known to have healing properties, and often they seem to glow with a supernatural shimmer. There is a small mine some distance from the village where many men work, and though the job is a dangerous one, the mountains never run out of the ores you need.

Your people’s existence is not especially complex, but they are tougher than most. The landscape requires it.

You arrive back at the stone walls surrounding your village and greet the gatekeeper, a man who recently inherited the job from his father.

“Hello, Isrwill.” You plant your staff next to you and lean on it, taking your weight off of your feet. “Have you heard anything of the visitor?”

The man nods. He’s about a decade older than you, but underneath the goggles and mask his face is youthful, eyes kind and always merry. “Savakya returned not long ago. She says he will make it here within the hour.”

“Did she say anything of his appearance?”

“Only that he wears armor, and a helmet. She could not make out any features, other than that he’s shaped like a man.” Isrwill leans back against the wall.

“Ah,” you reply. “Well-dressed for the weather, then.”

He shrugs. “Yes, but also well-dressed for battle.”

You can hear the concern in his voice. The question is one you’re sure your whole community is asking: what has brought this foreigner here?

“Thank you,” you tell him, and he nods while pushing the gate open.

Once inside the walls, you remove your net-shoes as well as your goggles and immediately head toward the building where you know they’ll bring the stranger. Your father will already be there, conversing with the Elders and with the Committee to prepare for whatever news or needs this foreigner might have. There are protocols in place for such an event, but they haven’t been used in your lifetime. As you walk to the meeting-house, you try and recall the words you studied so long ago, when your father taught you your people’s laws and customs.

The meeting-house is constructed of solid, ancient wood, imported from a forest planet and stark against the gray stone that most of the village’s homes are built from. Inside there is a massive hearth cut from a single stone, the fire inside it already raging. In the center of the main room there is a curved table; on one side sit the Elders, on the other, the Committee. At the head sits your father, next to your empty seat.

“You made it safely, my child,” he greets you when you arrive, a swirl of snowflakes following you in. Smiling, you pull down your face mask.

“I always do, father.”

He smiles from his place at the table, giving you a look. “That does not mean I do not worry.”

Rolling your eyes affectionately, you lean over to kiss him on the cheek. The other people at the table chat amongst themselves, though you can feel the undercurrent of unease at the visitor’s imminent arrival.

You walk around to take your place, setting your pack, staff, and outer layers near the hearth to dry. You are left in a long-sleeved, high-neck shirt and tunic over your leggings, your hair done up in its usual braids. Usually you would go home and change into something more suitable for Committee business, but there was no time.

You turn to your father, who sits next to you with all the grace and poise befitting a benevolent leader.

“Isrwill told me the stranger is arriving soon. Do we know any more?”

He nods, though he doesn’t look entirely pleased. “Yes. From what Savakya described, it seems he’s a Mandalorian.”

The name isn’t familiar to you. “Is that a race?”

“No.” Your father leans back in his chair. His arched brows bely a concern that is rare to see on him. He strokes his white beard, staring off into space. “The Mandalorians are more of a culture, a people. I’ve only ever heard stories of them. They say they are fierce warriors, and that many of them are bounty hunters by trade.”

That’s odd. You frown, confused. “Bounty hunters? Why wo-”

You are interrupted by three sharp knocks on the doors. Beside you, your father calls out “enter! ”, and the doors swing open.

Two village men, two of the strongest of your people, flank a man clad in armor. His helmet has a T-shaped visor with a short antenna, and on his back is a rifle. You take note of the blasters strapped to his hips as well as something that could be a weapon at his knee.

Isrwill was right. Well-dressed for battle.

You sit up straight and keep your eyes trained on the Mandalorian. Though you are a member of the Committee, you are also well-versed in how to use a blaster, perhaps the best trained of any at the table. You are also a protector of your fellow Committee members, the Elders, and most importantly, your father.

“What business brings you to our planet, Mandalorian?” Your father’s voice is stern, strong in a way you hope to emulate when you inevitably assume his role.

“I am in search of a bounty, your excellency.”

The hunter’s voice is deep and slightly muffled through the helmet’s vocoder. He sounds weathered and rough, though you imagine that’s life as a man who fights and kills for a living.

“Sir will suit me just fine,” your father tells him, a hint of a smirk in his voice. “As for your bounty, it is highly improbable that any individual has survived outside of our village longer than a day. There is no stranger here but you.”

The Mandalorian sighs, looking down at the floor and then back up again. “I’m afraid I disagree, sir. The tracker isn’t wrong. He must be hiding somewhere in the mountains.”

Your father shakes his head. “Those mountains are impossible to pass without a guide. If he was there, surely he is dead by now.”

Though you can’t see his face, the hunter’s helmet is surprisingly expressive. He looks at your father for a long moment, and then glances around at the other people at the table. His gaze finally lands on you.

You set your jaw and stare back, unintimidated. A man with guns does not scare you, no matter how he tries.

“Alright,” he says, but you suspect he is not satisfied with this information. “Might I at least inquire about some lodging for the night?”

Later that evening, you find yourself in your favorite tavern, sitting in your usual booth, watching the townsfolk mingle and chat. Your drink of choice is a fermented ale that is produced in the warm season and aged for consumption outside of those short couple of months.

No one pays you any mind unless they’re a close friend or they have news. They know to leave you alone, to let you sit with yourself as you prefer to do.

You’re watching a young couple you grew up with dance to the music when the tavern’s door swings open. You glance over at it but do a double take when you realize who stands in the doorway.

The hunter.

Around you, conversation quiets as everyone takes in the stranger. His helmet scans the room, like he’s looking for someone in particular. Internally you scoff. The bounty would never show his face here, he’d stand out too much amongst your people.

The hunter’s visor stops moving, aimed directly at you.

Kriff, you think, taking a swig of your drink. He wants information, and he’s not going to give up quite as easily as he did with your father.

The Mandalorian walks into the room, headed directly towards your booth. People watch, heads turning to track the stranger’s movements across the floor. His steps are heavy, intentional, large frame imposing as he approaches you.

Certainly a man built for survival. For conflict. If he were a different person, you might find it attractive.

He stops when he reaches your booth, looking down at you just as you stare up at him, brow raised.

“This seat taken?”

You shake your head and gesture to it. “Not at all.”

From the corner of your eye you can tell the rest of the tavern’s patrons are watching, waiting. As the hunter sits, you wave your hand discretely, telling them to return to their conversations, to each other.

The noise picks up again.

“You’ve got some influence here, princess.”

The name both rankles and sends a shiver of something unwanted down your spine. Now that he’s closer, knees almost brushing your own, you really get a sense of how intense this man’s presence is.

A warrior, to be sure. None would debate that.

You narrow your eyes at him. “We are not the subjects of a king, hunter.”

He scoffs, leaning back and resting his arm on the back of the booth. “Forgive me. What are you to them?”

“I do not see how it concerns you.” The words are harsh but your face remains neutral. Your father taught you how to deal with men like this - how to steel yourself against posturing, against prodding, against teasing.

The Mandalorian chuckles. “I just like to know who I’m talkin’ to. No need for the theatrics.”

You don’t respond. He’s the one who approached you - you have no desire to get in his good graces.

He sighs, glancing over to the wall at your left, his right. “I’d never heard of this planet before the tracker brought me here, much less your people,” he tells you. It’s not a surprise.

“That’s how we like to keep it. We stand no chance against something like the Republic or the Empire. Our only means of survival is staying under the radar.”

His visor is trained directly on you, staring, studying your face. You stare back, wishing you could somehow get a sense of what he looks like underneath the mask.

“How long have your people lived here?”

You know it’s not because he’s genuinely curious. Your mind is buzzing with all the different reasons he’d have for asking - he wants to know how familiar you are with the landscape. He wants to know how well-established your system of governance is here. He wants to know if you know how your people arrived.

He wants to know how vulnerable you are.

“Generations. Since before the Elders’ grandparents were born. Memory of our arrival here has been lost to time.”

He tilts his head. “Is yours the only settlement on the planet?”

You nod. As far as you know, anyway. Attempts have been made to reach out, to try and see if any other peoples live in the outer reaches of the landscape, but none have returned successful.

The Mandalorian hums. He glances over into the tavern, at the other patrons and the bartender. You watch as the bartender, a woman a few years younger than your father, uses a rag to clean out a cup, but you can tell she’s watching your table from the corner of her eye. When she notices the hunter’s helmet turn towards her, her eyes flit up to you, then over to him.

The hunter waves, as if to signal that he wants something. The bartender glances back at you and you nod. She sets down the cup and begins walking over.

You look over at him. He’s already staring back, chin tilted down like you’re a riddle he’s trying to solve.

“What can I do for you, sir?” The bartender’s voice does not waver, but it’s tense nonetheless.

He gestures to your drink. “I’ll have what she’s having.”

The bartender nods and leaves. You take a sip of your ale, finding comfort and clarity in the warmth it brings you.

Across from you, the bounty hunter shifts in his seat, removing his gloves to reveal a pair of calloused hands. You glance down at them and follow their movement as they reach up, thumbs curling under the bottom of his helmet, and lift.

The hunter’s weathered face greets you. He’s a man, like any other, like you expected him to be. His brows are arched and dark, but the rest of the hair on his head has been burnt away by something that left scars across the crown of his head and his face. His eyes are cold, haunted, calculating as they look at you.

He sets the helmet on the table with a thud .

“You’ve seen death,” you observe, holding his gaze with your own. “Been close to it.” His brown eyes narrow and he crosses his arms over his chest.

“I wouldn’t expect you to understand, princess.”

Ah, you think. He underestimates me. He thinks you’re the coddled daughter of a village leader, fed by the kindness of your people and adored for your status. You raise an eyebrow and take another swig of your drink, smirking into the amber liquid.

You set the cup down on the table. “There is more in those mountains than snow and wind, hunter.”

He doesn’t move, save for a slow blink. “Tell me, then.”

You sense movement from the corner of your eye - the bartender has returned with his drink. He nods to her in thanks and she gives a tight smile, glancing at you before hastily returning to her station.

The hunter takes the cup and brings it to his lips. You watch as he takes a sip, swallows, and his eyes widen. A small cough forces its way up and out of his throat.

You smile at him, a hint of a grin that curls the corners of your mouth.

“A bit strong for you?”

He glares over the rim of the cup and pointedly takes another swig. He sets the cup down, large hand dwarfing it.

“What is in those mountains?” His voice has gotten lower, rougher, like you’ll be intimidated by a show of verbal force.

“Nothing you’ll concern yourself with,” you reply, refusing to back down. “Unless you want to encounter your own mortality again.”

“I am perfectly fine with a bit of a scare.”

You bark out a laugh. “You wouldn’t survive an hour out there without a guide. And no one here will take the job, not when the options are either a fruitless search for a dead body or a shootout between two criminals.”

He leans forward, face pressing close to yours, warm breath blowing across your cheeks. His nose is inches from your own.

His voice drops to a low murmur. “I didn’t come here for a bounty, little one.”

Your brow furrows and you draw back, pressing your shoulders against the cushioned stone behind you.

“Word has got out of a large deposit of kyber somewhere in this system. The Empire has not yet caught wind, but soon they will.”

You don’t recognize the name of the material he’s referring to, but you do recognize the Empire and know exactly what something like that might mean for a small, defenseless village such as your own.

It’s much different than a simple bounty hiding in the mountains.

“Why didn’t you tell the Committee this?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know if this is where the deposit is. I didn’t want to cause unnecessary concern, especially considering the… size and scale of your village”

You purse your lips and lean your head back, staring up as you consider this development. This man has come in search of something you aren’t sure exists, and if it does, it means certain death for you and your people.

You look back down at the man across from you. “Then why did you decide to tell me? You’d have been better off going to my father with this information.”

He huffs out a chuckle, then grabs his drink and takes a swig. He sets the cup back down and rests his arm on the table beside it. “Because I need a guide, little one. Someone with knowledge of the terrain, who I won’t have to watch out for. I’m willing to pay handsomely.”

The dots begin to connect in your brain. You raise a brow at him. “I have no need for your credits. They’re next to useless here. Besides, how can we know this - this kyber is there at all?”

“Is there anything unnatural about the mountains? Anything that would point to something powerful within them?”

You frown, thinking on it for a moment. All of the ores found in the mine are naturally occurring, the creatures that live on the peaks are all native, and the --

It hits you. Your eyes widen ever so slightly, and your heart rate increases. A falling feeling in your stomach takes the sensation from your legs for a moment, ice cold and burning all at once.

“The water.”

The Mandalorian tilts his head. You glance around to make sure no one’s heard you. Everyone in the tavern seems oblivious to the two of you, despite their stares earlier.

“We have to leave,” you tell him, fishing a couple of coins out of your pocket and depositing them on the table. “We can’t discuss this here. Come with me.”

Hastily you stand, taking your cloak from its hook on the side of the booth and pulling it on. The hunter follows suit, sliding his helmet back on and looking around the room.

You start towards the door, heavy footsteps following behind you.

You bring him to your home, the only place where you know you won’t be interrupted. You live in a small building tucked in a quiet corner of the village, between a storage silo and the village’s north wall.

Inside, the hearth has been going all day, fueled by coal and snow-bison waste chips. There are four rooms; three downstairs and a bedroom upstairs. You bring the Mandalorian to your study, where the fire roars and there’s a few soft chairs and a couch to sit on. He takes a seat on the latter and removes his helmet, watching as you search your bookshelves for something.

“Care to tell me what you meant by ‘the water’?” He slouches, thick thighs spread over the couch cushion.

Your eyes follow the movement of his legs for a split second. It’s supremely distracting, how inviting he looks right now. You glance up at his face and see a small smirk on his lips. A blush colors your cheeks, caught in the act of looking. To hide it, you turn back to the bookshelf, scanning the spines of your books.

“In the warm season there are streams that flow from the mountaintops to the valley. It pools in an area not far from here and forms a small lake, not much more than a pond, that freezes over once the cold sets in again. For centuries we’ve brought our sick and dying there to be healed.”

The hunter hums. “And it works?”

You nod, turning to look over your shoulder at him. “I was brought there as a child. I would have died of the fever had it not been for the water. Our Elders drink if regularly after they reach a certain age, once they haven’t been killed by the elements.”

“Are you saying your people live longer because of it?”

You pause. That has never crossed your mind, since using the water’s magic has always been normal to you, a yearly practice like any other. “I don’t know. How long does man usually tend to live?”

“It depends,” he says. “I’d say a hundred years at most.”

That has you taken aback. You look over at the bookshelf again - this is life-changing, world-shattering information. Dread begins to settle in your chest, like everything you thought was real is a lie.

The hunter leans forward, hands on his knees, concern etched on his scarred face. “How long do your people live, little one? How many years?”

You inhale and look over at him. “Hundreds. A thousand, if we’re lucky.”

“Kriff,” he swears, leaning back with a hand over his mouth and nose.

Turning back to the bookshelf, you resume your search to calm your racing mind. You find the book you were looking for, a collection of stories gathered by your family over generations.

“Here,” you say, sliding the book out of its place and taking it over to the hunter. He scoots over, but only slightly, so when you sit next to him you’re tucked snugly between him and the arm of the couch. His thigh is warm against your own and you get chills down your neck when he shifts to put his arm behind you, around your shoulders.

You clear your throat and open the book, letting it rest on your legs.

“There are a few accounts that speak of the water,” you tell him, flipping through the pages until you find the one you’re looking for. It’s half a page of writing, the other taken up by a crude map of the mountains.

“The waters are life-giving,” you read, tracing along the words with your index finger. “They shimmer and glow in the sun when it shines upon us. The source is deep within the mountain, covered by ice and snow in the cold season. No one has seen the source of the waters and survived. Many have tried. It lies in the heart of ongrol territory.”

“Ongrol?” The hunter’s voice is deep, low in your ear. You look up at him, absentmindedly biting your lip between your teeth.

“Yes,” you reply. “A vicious species of massive snow lion. It’s rare to see one and live to tell the tale. I’ve only ever seen their prints.”

He hums, eyes flitting across your face as he studies you up close. “How large are they?”

You shake your head. “We can only guess, but certainly bigger than this building.”

The Mandalorian nods, his eye contact with you intense and unwavering. You meet it head-on, the warmth you feel in your bones spreading into your thighs and your ribs and your --

You blink and turn back to the book. The map is shaded to indicate the creatures’ territory, with a dot to indicate the general location of where the source is thought to be.

You point to an area just outside the shaded region. “This is as far as I’ve been. I can get us to the source - it’s the ongrol that are the problem.” You look back up at the hunter. “You’re sure the kyber is what’s causing this?”

He nods. “It’s one of the most powerful materials in the known universe. Little else could heal your people the way it does.”

“How do we hide the signature from others, to keep them from finding it?” The unspoken question there hangs in the air as you speak; how do we protect ourselves from attack?

He furrows his brow, shaking his head ever so slightly. “I’m still trying to work that part out, little one.”

That does not do much ease your anxieties, but you have to accept it for now.

You close the book with a sigh and stand to return it to its place on the shelf. When you turn back, the hunter has placed his other arm on the back of the couch, spread out like a king on a throne.

He looks comfortable - at home, here in yours. It’s unlike you to bring a stranger into your dwelling and not feel uneasy about it. Yet here he is, and it’s like he belongs right there on your couch, armor and all. You cross your arms, observing him.

“Do you know the name Boba Fett, princess?”

You shake your head. “No, I do not.”

He smiles, like your answer pleases him. “It's mine.”

Boba. The name is unusual, but it suits the man before you.

“I’d tell you mine in return, but I’ve grown fond of the names you’ve chosen for me, Boba Fett.”

A deep sound pushes its way out of Boba’s chest through his throat - half a chuckle, half a growl. He gives you a once-over with his dark brown eyes, like he can see right through your thick base layer and loose tunic. You watch as he does so, trying to calm your nervous breathing. His gaze is so penetrating, so intense, that after a moment you have to turn away from him, towards the fireplace.

The orange-blue flames dance in front of you, warming your face even further. A mirror hangs above it, but your eyes are focused on the hearth.

You hear Boba shift behind you, metal on fabric. “Tell me, little one,” he says. You can sense him moving closer. “Do you have any suitors, here in the village?”

The question makes your heart race even faster. “No.” You refuse to look at him, knowing that what you see there will render words impossible. “I’ve not had any interest in them.”

“But have men tried? Asked to court you?” He’s right behind you now, the warmth of him nearly matching that of the flames in front of you. The hair on the back of your neck stands on end. You can see his shadow from the corner of your eye.

“Yes,” you nod. “They have tried.”

Boba hums. His hands come up to gently, but firmly, rest on your shoulders. He slowly smooths his gloved palms down your arms, taking them from being crossed over one another to resting loose at your sides.

You risk a glance up at the mirror in front of you. He’s already looking at you, eyes locked on yours. You meet his gaze and dip your chin ever so slightly, so you’re staring at him from beneath your lashes.

A ghost of a smirk dances across Boba’s lips. He breaks the eye contact and you watch as he looks down at the nape of your neck, one of few exposed pieces of your skin. His right hand brushes your hair from over your shoulder onto your back, gathering the long tresses together. The women in your village grow their hair out as long as they can, not only to use for braids, but also to keep warm.

Boba’s fingers brush lightly against you, the rough material of his gloves a contrast to the smooth skin of your neck.

“Why haven’t they been successful, princess?”

You clench your jaw. Boba looks back up at you, his hand resting across your nape, fingers curled ever so slightly. The feeling of it makes your thighs tremble, your core responding to this silent, easy display of authority. It shows on your face, how much you like this, and you know Boba sees it.

“None of them could give me --”

Your words are cut off by Boba’s hand snaking around your neck, firm grip tightening around the column of your throat. You gasp, a soft, breathy noise, and the man behind you chuckles. His thumb and forefinger press into your jaw, forcing your head up, though your eyes are still locked onto his reflection in the mirror.

You choke out the rest of your sentence. “-- Give me what I need.”

“Is that so,” Boba murmurs, the words a deep rumble in his rough voice. He presses just a bit tighter, and your eyes flutter closed in response. “I think I know just what you need, my dear.”

His words burn through you like fire on wood, like a cold wind rushing through an open window. Your legs grow weak and your hands grapple at him, trying to find something to hold onto. Your left hand catches on the gauntlet covering his arm and you draw it around, so his arm covers your hip and his hand rests possessively on your lower stomach.

“What a pretty thing you are,” Boba mutters, sliding his hand lower on your front until his fingertips brush your mound. You let your head drop back against his shoulder at the feeling of him cupping your most private of areas, like it’s his, like it’s always been his. Your legs shift further apart to make room for his wide palm. “A stoic princess who desperately needs someone to take care of her.”

You whine at that, at what he’s offering you. It’s true; of all the eligible men in the village, not one has taken you to bed and been able to let you fully cede control to them. They see you as a leader, as someone not to be messed with, as someone to be respected above all else.

“Oh, yes,” Boba hums, curling the fingers of his left hand into your cunt, hooking them into you through your clothes. “They might follow your orders, little one, but you’ll follow mine.”

It sounds like paradise, letting him have you like this. You nod against the armor on his chest, movement limited and head growing dizzy thanks to the hand around your neck. Boba presses his lips close to your ear, his large body now curled around yours.

“Listen to me, sweetheart.” The pet name makes you melt against him. “I am going to go take a seat, and then you’re gonna take your clothes off for me. Can you do that?”

You open your eyes and there he is, in the corner of your vision, gaze dark and full of heated promises. You study his face for a moment, memorizing his features while he’s close like this, and then you nod.

“Yes, Boba.”

“Good,” he tells you. He then moves his hands away, and though you mourn the loss of his touch, knowing what’s to come keeps you patient.

He turns, walks back over to the sofa, and sits. He spreads his legs as he did before, arms on the back of the couch, watching you.

Boba looks so much like a king in that moment that it makes you want to bow before him, to prostrate yourself like you aren’t the daughter of the Chieftain. To worship him as he demands.

The thought crosses your mind as your fingers begin to unwrap your tunic, taking the woven material from its intricate adornment on your body. You feel a blush rising on your cheeks at the implications - what would the village think of their leader’s daughter, the one to assume his role in the future, imagining such things about a stranger?

Your mind wanders, racing, thinking of seeing him upon a proper throne, all silent confidence and heated gazes from behind the visor of his helmet. Maybe he’d bring you there, show you off to a court, hold you in his wide palms like a treaty. Set you upon his lap like a rare trophy from your far-off snow planet. You’d wrap your arm around the back of his neck and listen to his dealings while he kept a firm hand on your upper thigh.

Dignitaries and crime lords alike would watch, whispering, unable to look away.

It thrills you, to have these secret desires.

You deposit the tunic on the floor next to you and toy with the hem of your top, pulling it out from where it was tucked in your pants. Boba’s eyes zero in on the strip of skin that is revealed as you raise the shirt higher, higher, and higher, until in one motion you’ve slipped it over your head and off entirely.

He stares at your chest and it makes you smile. Men will be men.

Feeling emboldened by the way Boba is looking at you, you turn around and hook your thumbs in the waistband of your pants. You slowly slip them down your hips, over your thighs, and past your knees, bending over as you do so.

Behind you, you hear shuffling. You toss the pants to join the tunic and shirt and turn to see Boba’s codpiece and gloves removed, his hand shoved down the front of his pants.

“I’m enjoying the show, little one,” he says, and waves at you with his other hand, even as you begin to see movement at the crotch of his trousers. “Continue.”

You smirk, a sly thing at seeing the effect your bare form has on him. You tuck your fingers under the band of your bra and pull up. Your arms block your view of Boba’s face as your breasts are revealed to him, but the hungry look in his eye once you can see him gives you a good idea of it.

“Kriff,” Boba swears, jerking himself faster, rougher. The sight of it makes your breathing become heavy, the labor of it causing your chest to heave. His eyes drop from your face to your tits - somehow, you don’t feel embarrassed or ashamed like you might usually.

You just feel wanted. It’s intoxicating, that he wants you for you , not your title.

There’s only one article of clothing left on your body now. You turn around again, your back to him, and take the front hem of your underwear in your fingers. Slowly, almost teasing, you slip it over your hips, arching your back and pushing your ass out towards Boba. The underwear slips down your thighs until it falls to the floor.

You straighten up again and look over your shoulder at him. He gestures with his free hand, a ‘come here’ motion that you’re all too eager to follow.

“Beautiful kriffing body,” he murmurs as you approach. He reaches out and puts his hand on your hip, fingers curling into your ass cheek. His eyes stare at your mound, at the patch of hair there. “Bet you’re already wet for me, huh?”

He glances up at you. You blush, watching as he removes his hand from his pants and snakes it in between your legs, calloused fingers feeling the evidence of his effect on you. His fingertips catch on your clit, rubbing and feeling and stoking the fire within. You moan wantonly, comfortable in the privacy of your home.

“You are. Kriffing soaked. Just begging for my cock, aren’t you?”

His words make your pussy clench just as he slips one of his thick fingers into you, surely spreading his own fluids across your tight, hot skin. The girth of it forces a whine out of you, brows furrowed, and your hand flies down to hold onto his as he fucks you with his finger. Your other hand comes to rest on his shoulder, gripping his armor.

“Look at you,” he mutters, baring his teeth as he watches you writhe on his hand, using his thumb to rub your clit just so. Your mouth drops open in pleasure, sparks shooting down your legs and up into your belly at the feeling.

Boba hums, circling his thumb and flicking it over your puffy, sensitive nub. “What would your people think if they saw you moaning like a whore for an old man, hm?”

Your legs turn to jelly at the force of the arousal that hits your cunt. You sway forward, knees buckling, and Boba catches you as you fall.

He uses the hand on your ass to guide you into a sitting position on his lap, so now you’re straddling him, bare chest pressed to the cool metal of his armor. You tuck your face into his neck and revel in the feeling of a second finger teasing at your opening.

“You like that, little one?” His words cause his throat to vibrate, and the deep tone draws your lips in to kiss at it. Your nose brushes against the underside of his jaw as you move from kissing to licking, getting drunk on the taste of his sweat on your tongue.

Boba groans, sliding the second finger into your cunt with ease. You sigh, blowing cool air across the skin you’ve just wet with your tongue. “You do.” He runs his free hand up your thigh, holding tight to the firm muscle there, toned and strong from a lifetime in the ice and snow. “So desperate for my cock.”

You nod, though your lips hardly leave his neck. “Please, Boba,” you whisper into his skin, pressing yourself as close to him as you can get.

His fingers still their movements within you and you whine. Boba shushes you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from pouting when he pulls his fingers from your pussy. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head and leans back.

“I want you on your hands and knees, princess. Right here on the couch.”

You nod frantically and there’s not a moment of hesitation in your haste to follow his order. You arrange yourself next to him, forearms propped on the arm of the couch and your knees keeping your ass aloft in the air.

Boba turns and positions himself behind you with ease, half standing with one foot on the floor, his other leg bent and kneeling on the cushion.

He may call himself an old man, but he’s got the physicality of someone half his age. It makes the spot between your legs hotter and wetter just to think of it. Your cunt throbs for him.

You look over your shoulder and watch as he reaches into his pants, hand spreading your wetness across his dick, and your eyes widen as he draws it out from the confines of his trousers. Your gaze zeros in on him; he’s thick and long, just as you suspected, and every inch is one you want to feel as deep inside you as possible. Honestly, it makes sense - you’ve always heard that the men with the most to make up for do so in their personalities.

Men like Boba don’t have to compensate, which makes them all the more attractive.

You glance up to his face. He’s smirking down at you, eyes traveling down to your ass, pushed out and open for him. He runs a hand along the soft swell of your rear, caressing you like you’re precious, like you’re prized.

“I could get used to this,” he tells you, guiding the head of his cock to notch at your opening. “Seeing a future queen all bare and ripe for me.”

Your eyelids flutter as you feel him press in further, deeper. The sight of him kneeling behind you, fully clothed while you’re naked as the day you were born, sends a wave of arousal through you. Your brain doesn’t even register what he’s called you, how wrong he is, because you can’t think of anything beyond his dick.

“C’mon, Boba,” you whine, his slow pace driving you mad. “Fuck me like you mean it, old man.”

The noise that comes out of his mouth is almost non-human with the way it reverberates around the room. His hands dig into your hips and he thrusts , unrelenting and rough, spearing you onto his thick cock until his balls slap your clit. You choke out a moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head at how perfectly full you feel.

“Ah,” he grunts out as he immediately sets to fucking you roughly, deeply. “The little princess does want to be treated like a whore.” His words are accompanied by the lewd sound of his cock moving in your wet cunt, his hips slapping against your own. You moan, loud and uninhibited, unable to conceive of shame or propriety.

For your whole life you’ve been looked up to, treated as both fragile and untouchable.

Boba Fett fucks you like you’re nothing more to him than a pet.

He snarls his words into the air. “Woulda fucked you there on that table in the cantina, shown the whole village how well you take me.”

You keen, arching your back further to give him a better angle. He runs his left hand up your side, gripping your waist and pulling you back onto his cock in time with his thrusts. He’s deeper inside you than anyone’s ever been - you’re beginning to think men in your village must be small, or maybe Boba’s just unnaturally big, because you think you can feel the head of his cock bruising your cervix.

The thought of him taking you in the tavern has you clenching down on him even tighter. Maybe you would have gotten on your knees for him, hid beneath the tablecloth and kept his cock warm in your mouth.

“That turn you on, princess?” He slows his thrusts just slightly, drawing out so he can slam back in with even more force. You cry out, nodding, tears forming at the corners of your eyes.

“Of course it does,” he grunts, and you can feel the crest of your climax steadily approaching as he speaks, letting yourself get lost in the fantasies he’s bringing to life. His thrusts speed up again, rough and brutal, just as you need.

“You were just waiting for someone to -- ungh -- come along and fuck all the thoughts outta that clever little head, weren’t you?”

You whine, because he’s right - your normally sharp, observant brain has been put out like water over a fire. Boba leans forward, placing his hand on the arm of the couch next to your elbow, and brushes his lips against the back of your neck. It changes his position enough that his cock hits you just that much deeper, pounding against that elusive sweet spot deep within your cunt.

“Kriff, Boba --” You barely get the words out, your voice hoarse and strained and your mind turned to mush. “So -- so big.”

Against your ear, you feel more than hear him chuckle. His teeth catch on your earlobe, hot breath skating down the side of your face.

“Yeah? You like having my big cock in your tight little pussy?”

You keen, high-pitched and desperate. “Please, Boba, I’m gonna --”

His teeth trail down the side of your neck, biting firmly enough to leave a trail of red marks across your skin. Once he’s satisfied with his work, he leans up again so he can grip your hips more firmly.

“Gonna come, little one? Go on --” his words trail off for a moment - or maybe your hearing fades out as the crisis within you rises to its limit. Right as you’re on the edge, your face flush with sensation and your cunt fluttering around him, his rough voice fades back in.

“-- wanna feel you, princess. Come for your king.”

You have no choice but to do as he says.

Boba’s words scratch that small, hidden itch in your brain you’d taken a glance at earlier. Your mind whites out for a split second, as blinding as a snowstorm, before you return to yourself.

He’s still fucking you. Using you. Oversensitive and trembling, your senses absorb the world around you - Boba's hands on your hips, the scrape of his armor against your thighs, the crackle of the fireplace somewhere over your shoulder.

The rhythm of Boba's cock inside you, chasing the same high you'd found moments earlier.

You moan, pushing back, encouraging him to find his release. A glance over your shoulder gives you the sight of his eyes focused on where he's thrusting into you, lip curled, a drop of sweat trailing down over his jaw.

Boba glances up at you and smirks, though the flash of teeth makes it more of a sneer. "Where do you want me, princess?"

A serene smile crosses your face and you pretend to think on it for a moment, lazy in your post-orgasmic haze.

"On me," you reply. "Wherever you want."

He grunts, looking back down, and thrusts a few more times, deep and bruising. As soon as he pulls out you mourn the loss of him, the fullness inside of you, but you're rewarded with a vision unlike any you've seen before. Boba takes himself in hand, and with a loud groan, cums across your ass, his spend dripping down your thighs and onto your pussy lips. He covers you with himself, marking you up.

Once he's finished, Boba runs a hand through the cum on your skin, pressing firmly and rubbing it in.

"Been wanting to do that since I saw you in the meeting hall, little one."

You hum, eyes fluttering closed at the thought of it. What a scandal - the Chieftain's daughter falling for the stranger, the first foreigner to visit the village in living memory.

Behind you, Boba shifts off of the couch. He stands beside you and then you register that he's moving you, strong hands arranging your limp body so he can pick you up. One arm slips beneath your knees and the other under your back.

"Bedroom's upstairs," you murmur.

He brings you there, tucking you into bed carefully and then turning to undo his armor. As you watch him methodically remove each piece, you get the feeling that you're privy to something rare. Though you're sleepy, your eyes remain open, intent on keeping this memory clear.

The thought crosses your mind that this man must know so much of the universe. He's probably been to hundreds of planets, has hundreds of stories.

You've only ever known snow and wind.

"Boba?"

He's just finished with the last of his armor when you speak. He sits down on the edge of the bed next to you and puts his hand on your side.

"Yes, princess?"

You gaze up into his eyes, dark but soft when looking at you.

"What's the most beautiful place you've ever been to?"

He smiles at that, letting out a soft chuckle. "I've been to so many places that it's hard to keep track, little one."

You pout. He moves to settle into bed next to you, under the layers of fur and fleece that keep you warm.

"You must have a favorite," you insist, curling up against him, head resting on his bicep.

He's quiet for a minute, thinking. You wait, though sleep threatens to pull you under. Boba's words lull you out of the beginnings of your slumber.

"I think you'd like Naboo," he tells you. You've read about it, about their system of governance. You can't recall seeing any pictures or illustrations, though.

"It's very green," he explains. "There's meadows and forests everywhere. Their cities are vast, the buildings beautiful in themselves. I traveled there with my father when I was young."

You want to ask more, to learn about this place so different from anything you know. Your mind is racing with imaginings when you fall asleep, cozy and warm against Boba Fett.

In the night, your dreams glow as bright as the sun.

#boba fett x reader #boba fett fanfiction #boba fett fucks #mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #boba fett x female reader #female reader #reader insert #reader insert fanfiction

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brunos-beloved · 4 years

Note

I really love your Fugo x reader fics and I was wondering if I could maybe a request something a bit fluffy with a reader who has a crush on Fugo and really likes his stand and is really patient and gentle with Purple Haze and just wants to show him love to calm him down? Perhaps the reader has a stand that could handle the virus but maybe Fugo doesn't know that too much and is scared for their safety? Sorry if this isn't very clear, I know anything you do will be great though! 🥺❤

calm : fugo pannacotta x reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: gentle reader comforts Fugo through his anger.

(sorry i didn’t really include purple haze in this one, i kinda just had an idea and went with it)

—✧—

His anger didn’t make you uncomfortable, even in times maybe it should’ve. Fugo didn’t scare you, nor his stand, and you don’t think either of them ever could, even with a rage as seething and escalating as his. This was because despite his misgivings, you trusted and cared for him, all of him, and as you fought alongside Passione, those facts only seemed to grow more true.

“Fugo,” You grabbed his attention, using it as a way to warn him of your intervention. From earlier times you’d found the boy didn’t quite like being touched, mostly by surprise, the last time a curious hand had sneaked onto his shoulder nearly sent him reeling, a tight hand on your wrist in a millisecond, a fire in his eyes. But upon realizing it was just you, a person he trusted, the blonde settled, and apologized sheepishly. Although you hoped that this time, with warning and caution, he wouldn’t mind, or at least wouldn’t be so startled. The thought of someone rejecting your touch pained you, but leaving someone in need of comfort without even an offer was far more worrying. Reacting to your softly stern voice, the blonde looked your way, frustration still creasing his features. You held his eyes and pushed a palm onto his shoulder blade. Awaiting a harsh reaction that never came, you continued, and rubbed a small circle into his back. “You seem really stressed, this isn’t worth losing your head over.” Stress was a guess, the evidence the redness on the edge of his eyes and the bags that had settled underneath them. “Give it a rest and take a break alright?”

“But I...we weren’t even close to being finished this chapter. If I stop now-”

“Fugo, you need to stop now. You’re burnt out enough.” You sent him a small smile as he held onto your kind eyes. You were always so gentle towards him, Fugo wondered if he even deserved such treatment, then thought you probably just looked at everybody that way. You were soft, calm, and nearly always composed, everything he wasn’t. A soft hum brought him from his thoughts. “How about this...You take a break tonight, and if you really need to finish this chapter with Narancia I’ll finish it for you! Math was actually my best subject after all. I’ll probably even remember some of it...“ A broken smile made its way to Fugo’s lips, trying to imagine the two of you seriously studying Math together. Narancia was childish, and though you were quite mature he brought out the kindred spirit in you with his own childishness. He could see you teaching Narancia some things, but then quickly trailing off and suddenly Math Class became random tangents and bubbly discussion. Not much would get done, but at least something might. Fugo leaned into the table, an elbow down and a hand in his hair. The exhaustion that shone through his pose worried you to no end, and you let out a sigh. “I’d get you espresso, but you need sleep not caffeine.“

“It’s eight, I don’t think sleep is quite an option yet., madre” You narrowed your eyes at him, a hand still behind him, the expression would’ve made him chuckle if he hadn’t been so weighed down by the sudden fatigue. The moment he’d stopped yelling and chasing everything seemed to slowly crash within him.

“Tea it is then.“

Your determination knew no bounds. Though Fugo forced himself to remain awake, you brewed him a chamomile tea, and quite a strong one. Chamomile was a herb known for making yourself drowsy at night, a trick you used when sleep didn’t seem like an option. The night sky was still a navy blue, but began to descend into its usual rich black, the moon shining through. You’d dragged Fugo to the terrace along with a couple blankets, sharing an outdoor sofa there. With soothingly warm cups of tea in hand, the steam warming your cold noses, the two of you discussed topics of utmost importance. When Fugo started to drift the conversation over Narancia, you switched it to the origin of Chamomile, anger didn’t go nicely with sleep, which was your hidden goal in the end after all. Though you watched his violet eyes blink more and more often, watched his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, so did your own. And with passing time you realized Fugo’s determination to stay awake was much fiercer than your own. Despite everything though you continued on, chatting around and giggling about the tiny things the both of you were irritated by:

“His shoes? Really Fugo now you’re reaching-”

“He’s short enough to be an elf y/n how do you not see it!”

Trailing off and giving up on finding reason to such a statement, you burst into the chuckle you’d been trying to hold back. It seemed to Fugo, even something as innocent as Narancia’s shoes and height had become a problem. Though, you could tell it was not only lighthearted, but that Fugo had crossed the line of exhaustion where a person’s filter was completely lost and got rambly. But you didn’t miss the yawn that escaped him while you snickered at the diss. Your yawn followed his, and you stared into his violet eyes for a moment. The moonlight brushed his cheeks and ran through his hair, strawberry earrings swaying at the breeze.

“Are you tired?” You whispered, the trance broken between the two of you. He murmured something along the lines of not wanting to go the his room yet, though the dark tint under his eyes betrayed him. You hesitated, “You can lay down if you like,” The blonde rose a brow, quietly hoping the lack of room didn’t mean your departure. But when you patted your blanketed thighs he understood, blood rushing to his cheeks. “It’s almost a pillow, a lot more comfortable than sitting up.” You prayed, prayed he didn’t laugh or scoff. The pause made you nervous, but he replied before you could take back the offer.

“I couldn’t...Then you’d be sitting.” Fugo kicked himself for considering the offer and turning it over so many times in his mind. He wanted to, his tired back ached to, but Fugo wasn’t used to any kind of affection, and dejecting it seemed the easiest for his pride. But a smile rose to your kind face, and he was once again filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t mind, really. You look like you need it.” The expression on your face made his heart pound, the boy stared. Eventually Fugo sighed, and his frantic mind finally surrendered, the chamomile aiding his tired conscious to just accept it. He gulped and mumbled in agreement, slowly sinking into the comfort of your lap. Your own heart quickened at the sight, watching the tension leave the troubled teen. Your fingers hesitantly landed on his golden hair, running through the waves as the boy sighed in relief underneath your touch, you couldn’t help but smile and stare.

The night went on, the sky dark enough to show a fuller potential of its stars. You hummed, still running caring hands through Fugo’s hair. Your heart nearly sunk as he shifted, face looking up at you. He’d dozed off only ten minutes or so, the thought brought a small frown to your face. Though when he didn’t sit up, you heart rose again. After a bit of silence,

“Why are you so nice to me?” You were slightly taken aback, did you really need a reason to be? You supposed that was just how Fugo’s brain worked. Not being able to take without giving or losing and vice versa, you wondered if he always badgered himself for reasoning in scenarios that felt natural like this. Must everything follow rules, must everything have consequence? Your tired mind wished against it.

“Because, I care about you, lots actually.” The raise in his brow and widened eyes made you heart throb, a blush settled on his cheeks again as you stroked his hair, a thumb brushing lightly across his freckles.

“Wh...why?” You almost chuckled at that.

“Well I was hoping you cared for me too but...” Before Fugo could panic at the supposed misunderstanding and sit up, you placed a hand on his chest. You couldn’t muster the words to explain yourself, at least not yet. You settled for holding his cheek, and leaving a peck on his temple. The action was performed as graceful as possible, as not to startle him, but on the inside you were practically vibrating. “Let’s sleep now, alright?” He seemed stunned, and you burned the cute expression into your memories before pulling away further, and leaning back into the arm of the chair. “Buona notte, Fugo.” You got a quiet response, but a response no less, falling asleep on the terrace with the boy you cherished and managed to soothe.

—✧—

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neonthewrite · 3 years

Text

Washed Up Winchesters 8 (Final)

The mystery is solved and the case closed! It seems the Winchesters didn't quite expect things to go this way, but when there's a giant involved, all kinds of things go differently!

Cowritten with @nightmares06, the writer behind the @brothersapart multiverse!

( 1 ) ( 2 ) ( 3 ) ( 4 ) ( 5 ) ( 6 ) ( 7 ) -8-

Story Tag

Read Time ~10 minutes

~~~~~

Chase pushed himself up and shook his head. He was more used to being swept up in a giant hand, but toppling over a few times had winded him. He frowned over the edge of the hand, then over at Sam. “What?”

Jacob’s other hand lifted to be level with them. Minnie was clinging to his thumb and scanning the flock of sheep warily. They were all still milling around, keeping a tight group, several of them aiming disdainful baaas up in the air. Dean’s defiant stand over their heads certainly had not gone unnoticed. Minnie had never seen sheep act like that, certainly not in the shadow of a giant. “Sam?”

"Th-the sheep!" Sam gestured in the direction of the hostile flock. "We're chasing skinwalkers, not werewolves! They can be any type of animal, so long as it's what the pack started out as!"

The confusion on Dean's face cleared. "So you're saying this flock is the people we've been chasing the whole time?"

Sam nodded at the silver knife in Dean's hand. "One way to find out for sure."

Jacob frowned pensively. Even after hearing about how dangerous the skinwalkers were, he could hardly imagine the flock of fluffy sheep before him causing much trouble. Mostly they milled around among each other, all keeping tabs on Dean with his glimmering knife. It was weird that they didn't even want to run from Jacob, but he hadn't made any moves against them.

Even Chase and Minnie had been mostly spared. Chase had only fallen over because he kept trying to pull Dean up.

Jacob decided to throw in his two cents. "I mean, they're… they're not really doing anything," he pointed out.

"Except yelling at us," Chase agreed, waving a hand at a ram that bleated insistently up at him.

"Wait," Minnie chimed in, her brow pinching with confusion. "Do they understand what we're saying when they're in their whatever-form?"

Sam circled a hand through the air aimlessly, trying to gather his thoughts and what he knew of their current enemies. "Skinwalkers aren't like werewolves, who give in to their more... animalistic side when they transform. They maintain their regular consciousness and memory. The main danger is that they can transfer their ability with a bite, increasing the size of their pack... or flock." Sam gave the flock of sheep a strange look. He'd never encountered supernatural creatures in the guise of herbivores like the sheep. This case was shaping up to be unique in more ways than one.

"That means," Sam continued, "they know just who we are, and anything we said while we were here. Which is why they were so quick to lunge at me and Dean. They already found us once on the ship, when they were in their human forms. We couldn't stay under cover, and ended up tossed overboard."

Minnie frowned critically over the side of Jacob’s hand, even as the giant lifted everyone slightly higher. If those sheep really were skinwalkers, and at this point they certainly weren’t acting like normal sheep, they’d just let the group wander among them. She’d patted their heads and tried to click at them like she did with her lambs back home and everything. The feeling that wormed into her gut was something like betrayal.

“So these guys might be the reason I found you floundering out in the waves,” Jacob echoed, a disapproving frown on his face.

“Well what do they--” Chase began, asking Sam first before looking over the side of the hand at the nearest sheep bleating up at them. “What do you want in Lilliput then?!”

For a long moment, it appeared as though Chase's demand would go unanswered. The sheep milled restlessly around, giving Jacob's feet a wide berth as they bleated.

Then, the ram that had given Dean a runaround when he was on the ground stepped out into an opening that formed in the flock. It cocked its head, fixing one eye on the hand that held Chase, Minnie, Sam and Dean. Its expression was impossible to read as it looked them over, one by one.

There was a shift, and then the ram's horns appeared to melt away. Several cracks could be heard as its back shifted to an upright position, and the hooves split into four fingers and a thumb.

After less than ten seconds from when the shift started, the ram stood there as a regal and distinguished looking man, dressed in a simple white shirt and dark pants. He frowned at the people in Jacob's hand, then up at the giant himself.

"As I recall," the man said, "you were the ones to smuggle onto our ship when we had done nothing to you in turn, stinking of silver and gunpowder."

Seeing the transformation had been more than enough to leave Jacob, Minnie, and even Chase speechless for a hesitant moment. Jacob’s mouth opened slightly, as amazed as he’d been the first time he met Chase. He had never really thought about tiny people existing anywhere before. He definitely hadn’t imagined them having the ability to turn into tiny sheep. “Uh. Wh… what,” he muttered.

“I mean. I guess that’s technically true,” Chase finally admitted, sending an uncomfortable sideways glance at Sam and Dean. He frowned down at the apparent leader of a flock of sheep skinwalkers. “So … are skinwalkers usually dangerous, or not? ‘Cause I feel like that would clear up a lot, knowing what you actually plan to do in Lilliput, right?”

The man’s lip curled in disgust. “Oh, please,” he said disparagingly. “Unlike our more… wolf-ish cousins, we have no interest in anyone’s hearts.”

Next to him, a second sheep transformed back. This one was shorter, and he had very mousy features in comparison to the ram’s dignified look. “But we like Romaine hearts,” he stuttered out insistently. “Right? Right?!”

“Please, Jerimiah,” the ram said. “This situation is delicate enough without your help.” He turned to look up at the Lilliputians and Blefuscians held in the giant’s hand. “Haven’t you ever heard ‘The grass is greener on the other side?’ We are here in search of better pastures. Nothing more.”

Chase’s mouth opened in a delighted grin over the bad pun. Before he could try to chime in with his own, Minnie slapped his arm with the back of her hand. In her opinion, she had enough to deal with without her brother adding to the pile. She’d thought this was a poor lost flock of sheep. Not an intentional group of … magic shapeshifting squatters. “So are Sam and Dean the only ones you hurt, or …?”

Jacob heaved a slow sigh. Minnie had a point. If they had left behind more than just Sam and Dean, it would be dangerous having the shapeshifters around Lilliput too. “Yeah, I mean. I’m pretty sure I can outrun you guys, but what’s to stop you from sneaking along later and trying something again? Are Chase and Minnie here in danger because they know your secret?”

The ram’s mouth twisted in annoyance. “All we want is green fields and calm waters,” he explained. “Any Blefuscans that we ran into, we ran off, nothing more. These… hunters that followed us were the most persistent, and I couldn’t risk the safety of my flock. Throwing them off the ship was only done as a last resort.”

Looking over the rest of the flock, and a brief glance at the twitchy Jerimiah, the ram shook his head in doubt. “Perhaps it was merely a pipe dream to find a place free of warmongering, but we had to try.”

“So…” Sam tentatively leaned forward. “Your main plan is to get as far from civilization, and stay there?”

“Sammy…” Dean started, but was ignored.

The ram nodded. “It seemed like a more likely situation to find in Lilliput compared to Blefuscu. Such an idyllic land…” He turned to Chase and Minnie. “No one here is at risk from my flock, I give you my word. Even if we get sent back to Blefuscu.” The last statement was said with a sideways glance at Dean.

The guy seemed genuine enough. Having lived in Lilliput for a bit, Jacob knew the locals to be fussy but harmless. They would likely be too caught up in their own drama to notice an extra flock of sheep up past the hills, especially since no one really wandered this far anyway. He decided that he believed the stern little guy.

It wasn't really up to him, though. He lowered his hands a bit, not enough to put his passengers at risk but at least to bring them more level with the ram. "Whatcha think, Chase? Minnie?"

"It's weird," Chase said, practically bursting for an opening to speak up. "Sheep-people .... sheepshifters!"

Minnie smacked his arm. "How is that helping?" she scolded, before addressing the ram again. "I don't think anyone uses these pastures so you won't get anyone upset. But will you even be safe out here? From wolves and things, I mean?"

The ram looked down his nose at her. “Wolves have been our problem since the start,” he said with a sharp look sent in Dean’s direction. “We haven’t been able to shake them yet.”

Sam stepped between Dean and the ram with an arm to separate them, before thoughtless words could be thrown. “If we leave you be, does this mean you’ll leave the Lilliputians alone?” he asked, trying to keep the focus. “We’re only here to deal with threats.”

The ram sighed. “We won’t bother a soul, you have my word. So long as we have our pastures.”

Sam put his arm down. “I think our job’s done then,” he said. “They’ll just need a safe place to call home now.”

“This works,” Chase agreed, gesturing at the current pasture. Aside from Jacob looming over the field with several people standing on his hands, it was a simple, idyllic view. The area was lush, if a bit wild, and unbothered by Lilliput or Blefuscu. “We even have Jacob here to come check on you sometimes if you need anything.”

Jacob rolled his eyes at being volunteered so easily. It was his lot in life anymore, to have Chase suggest him for any task that needed doing. “I have a pretty easy time getting over here,” he agreed anyway. “If you need supplies.”

Minnie glanced over at Sam and Dean. Sam seemed mollified, though Dean looked as ready for a fight as ever. Looking back at the sheep, she gave them an exaggerated shrug. “Looks like everyone’s okay, so … it all worked out? This time?”

The ram gave Minnie a stiff half-bow, looking uncomfortable with the unfamiliar gesture. “We will hold up our end of the bargain,” he promised.

With a quick shift, the man again turned into a ram. Large, curving horns came out of his forehead first before he fell forward onto a new set of hooves. By the time he hit the ground, he could have blended in with any herd of sheep and proceeded to walk amongst the others. Jerimiah followed suit next. Then, a slowly stirring wave expanded throughout the herd until they were all heading in the same ambling direction.

Sam sighed, blowing out his bangs. “Case closed.”

“Weirdest case ever,” Dean complained. “Almost as weird as running into the actual giant in the lands.” He sent Jacob a side-eye. “Maybe next time we’re in Lilliput, we can enlist some extra help again?” Despite his usual gruff tone of voice, the interest in having a giant helper shone right through.

Chase drew himself up proudly, though he still stood notably shorter than either brother. “We’re totally ready to kick some ass, anytime we’re needed.”

Minnie rolled her eyes. “Preeeetty sure they were asking for Jacob,” she pointed out, nudging Chase with an elbow.

“Hey! I helped!”

Jacob smirked. He’d gotten somewhat used to the surly attitude from Dean. It seemed the little folk over in Blefuscu could be just as excitable as the Lilliputians he’d come to know. Chase and Minnie’s antics were practically a given. “I’m basically a glorified taxi,” he warned. “But I’ll be here.”

#mywriting #collab #washed up winchesters #chase in lilliput au #chase lisong #minnie lisong #sam winchester #dean winchester #jacob andris #supernatural fanfiction #gullivers travels fanfiction #g/t #g/t handheld #it's over .... just like that

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bastardtetsu · 4 years

Text

{day 13} falling slowly | semi x reader

pairing: semi eita x gn!musician!reader

genre: angst, mutual pining or unrequited love depending on how you look at it

wc: 1.8k

warnings: a little swearing, reader who plays piano/sings, mention of a previous relationship, unresolved feelings, just a lot of pain

⍋⋆*❅｡. 25 days of fic-mas mlist .｡❅*⋆⍋

falling slowly eyes that know me and i can’t go back

—falling slowly; once (music & lyrics by glen hansard & marketa irglova, book by enda walsh)

“that song you just played— did you write that?”

you stood there, wide-eyed, staring him down as he turned to walk away from the spot where he had just been busking on the sidewalk. semi wanted to ignore you, but your resolute gaze already had a vice grip on him.

“yeah,” he grunted reluctantly.

“it’s very good.”

“thanks.”

despite his gruffness, you were still staring at him like your life depended on it. it was kinda unnerving.

“why’d you leave your guitar?” you questioned him with a sense of urgency, gesturing to the guitar semi had left in its case on the sidewalk. his expression hardened.

“i don’t want it anymore,” he muttered, casting his eyes downward.

“you should take it. those things are expensive, you know.”

“fine,” he grumbled, shooting you a glare as he stooped to grab the case by the handle, “i’ll sell it if it makes you feel better.”

“i know a shop!” you blurted out, “a music shop. where you can sell your guitar. i was just on my way there, actually!”

“…seriously?”

“it must be fate!”

those words made him cringe back then.

as the two of you entered the store, a cozy place packed with various instruments, you wasted no time making a beeline for the back of the store, dragging a confused semi along with you.

“where are we going? i thought we were here to sell my guitar,” he questioned.

“just follow me,” you insist. the determination in your voice told him there was no point in resisting.

you continued leading him through the shop, all the way to an old upright piano that sat towards the back. “the owner lets me play this whenever i come in,” you explained, your merciless gaze now fixed on the instrument, “it’s a beautiful piano. if i ever win the lottery, this is the first thing i’m buying.”

semi just watched you quietly as you stood there, marveling at it. he was able to appreciate the intensity of your stare more now that he wasn’t the subject of it - the way your eyes glimmered was actually kind of entrancing.

“so what would you like to hear?” you questioned, suddenly turning your gaze back on him as you sat yourself on the bench, “bach? mozart? something of my own?”

“oh, uh— whatever you want,” he muttered. there was clearly no use stopping you at this point, so he might as well comply.

you positioned yourself and began playing. it was a somber melody, gentle but distinctly melancholic. your concentration remained unbroken as your fingers danced gracefully across the keys, until the final mournful note echoed through the empty store.

“did you write that?” semi asked, a bit awestruck by your talent.

“no. felix mendelssohn did.”

“ah.”

“now you play me one,” you demand, eyes aglow.

“wh—no,” semi faltered.

“please,” you begged.

“no,” he stated firmly, his expression hardening again, “i just came here to get rid of my guitar.”

“what do you mean?” you protested, “your music is good, why are you giving up on it?” semi cringed at the sting of your question.

“there’s no point anymore,” he snapped, “it’s gotten me nowhere.”

“what, so you’re quitting ‘cause you’re not famous?”

“i’m not—“ he scoffed defensively, “you wanna play your songs for people who want to listen.”

“well i’m people,” you stated, your gaze on him more unyielding than ever, “and i want to listen. now play me a song.”

the rigidity of your stare was almost enough to convince him.

“no.”

however, just as semi turned to leave, as if by some sort of drama-induced miracle, a sheet of folded paper fell from his coat pocket, which you wasted no time snatching up before he could even grab at it.

“hey—“ he protested, “give it back, come on.”

“music is dead to you, right?” you taunted, “so isn’t this trash?”

“you know what,” he huffed, his patience at its limit, “fuck it—yeah, keep it. it was nice meeting you.”

“hey!” you barked right as he was turning to leave. his head spun around to find your eyes staring him down with the most intensity and desperation he’d seen from you all day. “you won’t die if you play this song with me,” you spoke to him sincerely, “please.”

he didn’t answer, but remained frozen where he stood, unwilling to break from your acute gaze as you lowered yourself onto the bench and placed your fingers on the keys.

you perused the slightly crumpled page while semi waited with nervous anticipation, reminding himself to breathe as you began to play the notes he had scrawled onto the staff.

as your fingers began to recreate the familiar motif with impressive precision, he gingerly picked up his guitar from its case by the piano, looping the strap over his head as he started to sing,

“i don’t know you but i want you all the more for that”

he sang tentatively at first, the words and notes like scratches upon an unhealed scab, until your voiced chimed in with a harmony,

“and words fall through me and always fool me and i can’t react”

semi began to strum at his guitar, more self-assured as the gentle tune continued, your voices and instruments moulding together as the music swelled into chorus after chorus. his reluctant voice became more and more powerful with each changing chord, each strum of his guitar more intentional as the sounds intermingled with yours, creating new discoveries within a painfully familiar refrain.

as the tempo slowed to a quiet halt, your eyes met with his again until you played the final chord in unison. you both stood there in silence for a moment, as if you were waiting for the final sound waves to finish reverberating, dissolving into the air.

“so where is she?” your question broke the silence.

“where’s who?”

“the girl in the song,” you clarified, “is she dead??”

“what—no, jesus,” semi sputtered, caught off guard for what must be the 75th time today.

“so where is she?” your gaze is on him again, adamant as ever.

“she left,” he uttered, his dejection covered by his brusque tone, “about six months ago. there was nothing else for her here, so—”

“so you still love her?”

semi’s face twitched, feeling his chest tighten at the question.

“no. we’re finished,” he stated shortly.

“no one who writes a song like that is finished,” you enunciated firmly, causing his breath to catch. “if you sing this to her, i bet she’ll take you back.”

“huh?” the ash blond’s face twisted into a confused scowl.

“i’m serious.” the gleam in your eye only affirmed your statement.

“no way,” he replied, “i’m not running after some woman who’s doing fine without me just so i can sing her some stupid—“

“it’s not stupid!” you nearly yelled at him before softening a bit, maintaining your resolute stare. “your songs are good,” you stated emphatically. semi felt his breath catch again, this time accompanied by a rush of warmth to his face. “do you have more??”

your heart nearly stops when you see it, breath catching in your throat as the sting of tears begins to prick your eyes.

the old upright piano you had spotted one day in a music store now sits in your living room, a large, bright red ribbon adorning its shiny wooden surface. there is no note, but you need no indication to know who it’s from.

he must be long gone now. he got a call from his ex practically begging him to come back, so of course he went. it doesn’t matter how many longing glances you caught as you helped him rehearse, or how much electricity you felt surge through your body every time you so much as brushed his hand while reaching for some sheet music.

he has unfinished business. you’ve both always known that, it’s why you tried so hard to keep your distance, even as you helped him produce a studio album, relentlessly encouraging him not only to keep pursuing music, but to keep pursuing her. it’s what he deserves. it’s not your place.

it doesn’t matter how much your heart wanted to leap out of your chest when his stern grey eyes stared into yours, uncharacteristically earnest, as he squeezed your hands in his and thanked you for changing his life. he was talking about the music. you’ve only ever talked about the music.

it doesn’t matter that no matter how hard you tried to maintain your distance - god, you really tried - his songs always pulled you back in. those songs aren’t about you. he wrote those for someone else, someone who he is destined to go back to.

it doesn’t matter that every time he played one he felt a shift, like discovering a new harmony, each lyric twisting into a different meaning. that somewhere along the way, he started singing them about you — you can’t think about that. it can’t be about that.

it doesn’t even matter that he said you were a part of his new life, starry-eyed and nearly breathless, imploring you with to run away with him and start a band together, make an album, just the two of you and all your beautiful music. it was just a silly fantasy. one can only entertain such a delusion for so long before you have to move on with your real life again.

as you lower yourself onto the piano bench, you imagine yourself back in the shop on that day, the ash-blonde musician you had just met scowling dubiously as you began to play the opening of one of his songs. you can almost hear the delicate strains of his guitar as he plucked the accompaniment on the strings, his voice growing stronger as he sang.

“and games that never amount to more than they’re meant will play themselves out”

you recall sitting with him at the top of a hill just outside of town one night, looking down at the warm lights of the city twinkling in the distant. he told you about the first time he ever felt scared. you told him you only saw him as a friend. could he tell you were lying?

“take this sinking boat and point it home we’ve still got time“

tears begin to well in your eyes, blurring your vision as you play. but you don’t even need to see the keys, because you know this song too well. it’s engraved in your muscle memory. no matter how hard you try, your body will remember.

“raise your hopeful voice you have a choice you’ve made it now”

“call your girl tonight,” you reminded him as you left the recording studio for the last time. he asked you to come over to his place later, but you’re not going. you know better than that.

“falling slowly sing your melody i’ll sing it loud”

the tears are falling freely now, wetting your hands and the keys, but you continue playing as if semi were right there singing along with you, creating sweet harmonies and stirring chords together, losing yourselves in the music.

you allow the song to engulf you, the melody washing over you like a wave of pure feeling as you bid goodbye to the man you fell unwillingly, irreparably in love with.

a/n: i’m not normally an angst person, or a huge semi simp really, but i still ended up hurting my own feelings with this lmao. i’d probably let semi ruin my life as much as he wants too, let’s be real. the songs linked at the top are definitely required listening for this one (the first link is them together in the music shop, the second one is the reprise at the end) and if you really wanna experience pain, find a bootleg of the show & watch the whole thing bc i truly struggled trying not to shove the entire musical into this one fic (once again if u need help finding it i may or may not have a link if u dm me)

taglist: @izagraceee @musicgetsmeoutofbed @azo-musxas @tsumurai @ghostlydiamond135 @animeboysimppp @starshaped-raindrops

#haikyuu!!#semi eita #semi eita x reader #semi x reader #haikyuu x reader #25 days of ficmas #.txt #e writes

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sergeanttpoliteness · 5 years

Text

➹types of kisses➹(peter parker x reader)

A colorful collection of your many types of kisses, because a kiss can have more than just one meaning.

a/n: i know i’m three days late, but this is my christmas present :) (sorry for the shitty title) it’s kinda different to what i usually write because there’s really no... plot? it’s just one big but short compilation of fluff and tropes that will give you real bad diabetes. i was gonna include a break-up kiss but bc i’m nice, i decided against it lmaoooo. also !! i wrote this for ps4 peter, but i honestly can imagine it with mcu peter as well-- just choose whatever you prefer ! anyway, i hope whoever is reading this has a wonderful new year, ily.

warnings: making out, a lil bit of grinding but nothing more than that, cursing.

——-

FIRST KISS - KISS ME IN THE PARK, WE’LL MEET UP AFTER DARK

It wasn’t exactly how you wanted it to be.

Not that you thought about kissing Peter Parker too much, anyway. He was one of your best friends, and who thinks about kissing friends? Definitely not you.

Alright, that was a lie— you used to think about it. A lot. And unbeknownst to you, he did as well. However, contrary to your lack of knowledge about his urges, you did know that, for a while now, his feelings towards you changed. And, similarly, he was aware that your own feelings for him, too, transformed into something more. Further than friendly embraces or innocent sleepovers when you were little kids. Bigger than platonic emotion. More than a simple friendship.

It lingered in your minds and was evident in everyone’s eyes, yet neither of you had the courage to move past friendship.

One night at eleven-thirteen, as the two of you— two grown-ups— were in a playground, doing the spider on a swing together and laughing enough that your stomachs ached, that craving to meet his lips resurfaced with such vigor, it spilled out of your mouth.

“Can I say something?!” You laughed as you swayed higher into the air, a yelp involuntarily fleeting past your lips and your legs tightening around Peter’s waist since you feared you were close to falling off the swing and on your back. “Thank you for picking up— shit!— the phone! I really missed you, you know— ow, okay, this really hurts!”

“Okay, I think you’ve had enough,” Peter’s feet immediately skidded against the ground to put your swinging to a halt, sand flying everywhere. Once you were still, you both remained giggling and with youthful smiles that reached your eyes. “Of course I was gonna pick up the phone. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t?” He said, and you had to hold yourself back from making a face at the word ‘friend’. You couldn’t complain— that’s that you were, after all. Except that this didn’t feel like merely hanging out, rather it appeared like a date.

“It’s pretty late, though.”

Peter shrugged. “Even if it were three AM, I’d still answer any of your calls.”

Your face softened and you bit the inside of your cheek, staring down at your lap. “That’s cute. But if you called me at three AM, I’d tell you to fuck off and then go back to sleep.” Peter opened his mouth in disbelief at your honesty, shaking his head.

“Wow, thanks. I’m glad our love is mutual.”

“It is mutual,” And it was indeed. “I just express it differently. For example, I tell you to stop working yourself to the bone so you can hang out with me and do adult stuff.” You placed one hand on his shoulder and gestured with the other to the empty playground you were in.

Peter chuckled, quirking a brow whilst he unconsciously began to move the two of you back and forth a little. “Adult stuff, huh?” You nodded solemnly.

“This is very mature.” You raised your nose in a not-so-mature way. Peter copied your previous gesture, humming.

“You’re right. Playgrounds were made for twenty-three-year-olds, after all.”

You giggled, but then changed your expression into a more stern one. “For real, you gotta give yourself a break.” You warned him, shaking your finger at him to add more of an emphasis, however, instead you amused him more than anything in the process.

He raised his hands. “Hey, it’s the city that never sleeps.” He defended, but you narrowed your eyes, giving him a look that was enough to communicate you were not accepting any humor. He dropped his hands and hung his head dramatically, sighing. “All right, I’ll try. But I can’t promise anything.”

You smiled sadly. “I know you can’t.” You quickly exchanged your frown for a smirk. “But if you don’t listen to me, I’m afraid you’re gonna have to make it up to me.” You joked, and Peter cocked his head to one side, wearing a crooked smile.

“How, exactly?”

All playfulness vanished and the warmth within your stomach took the spotlight yet again. Kiss me, a thought popped into your head, threatening to control your tongue. But you couldn’t. Even if your eyes accidentally flickered down to his mouth, and he undoubtedly noticed, for he gripped the swing’s chains tightly. You really wanted to say it.

So you chose to do it.

“Maybe you could…” You trailed off as soon as you caught onto some movement in the background, your sight shifting from Peter’s face to it. Suddenly, your eyes grew wide. “Oh, fuck.”

“W-What?” Peter turned to look behind his back, but before he could observe anything, he felt your legs unwrap from his body followed by a heavy object hitting the ground. His head whipped back to stare at you, and now his eyes were the ones about to pop out of his sockets when he saw you on the ground. “Y/N! Jeez, are you okay—”

You jumped to your feet, not bothering to dust off the sand off your clothes before you yanked Peter away from the swing, shushing unnecessarily louder and completely opposing your intention. “Shut up! We have to hide!” You hissed at him, peeking behind his body.

Peter tried following your gaze a second time, but you pulled at his arm harshly. “Why?!”

“Just— just follow me!” Was your explanation as you dragged him to hide behind a tree. You put your hand against the wood, slowly leaning to your side until the tree trunk uncovered your eye. Pointing at a woman standing up from a bench and a guy walking up to her, you glanced back at Peter. “You see her?”

Peter furrowed his brows, momentarily looking down at you. “...Y-Yeah? Isn’t that the teacher you told me about? The one who teaches at your cousin’s school?”

“Yes! And look at her!”

Peter’s attention returned to the woman who hugged her jacket close to her body and now spoke to the man, not discerning anything suspicious at the moment. “She’s talking to someone.” He pointed out the obvious, unimpressed. You groaned, rubbing your eyes.

“That someone is one of her students.”

Peter blinked and eyed the man who turned out to be a teenager. “Oh, he looks much older—”

“Because he’s a fucking drug addict! And I bet she’s his dealer!” You scream-whispered at him, flailing your arm towards the pair.

“I thought you were just joking when you first said that.”

You rolled your eyes, and continued watching them. Whatever the conversation was, it had all of a sudden turned into an argument as the woman poked the kid’s chest with her finger. “Why are they just talking, though?” You asked quietly, as if Peter somehow would have the answer. The volume of their voices increased, but you couldn’t make out any of the words. Scoffing, you shuffled away from Peter. “I gotta hear what they’re saying—”

Before you could tip-toe away from the tree, Peter gripped your arm and pulled you into him. “No. She has a gun.” He motioned to an object peeking out of her pants’ back pocket, and upon further squinting your eyes, you realized it was, in fact, a weapon. Peter gently pushed you towards the tree and he took a step back. “I’ll go make sure nothing bad happens while you stay here, okay?”

You stuttered, your brows snapping together. “No, this is my fucking case, you dickhead.” You began to speed walk past him, but you couldn’t get too far— he grabbed your arm and tugged you back once again. “Peter!”

“Y/N, you’re not a goddamn private investigator—”

“Well, tonight I am!” You broke free from his grasp; however, he quickly had you back in his hold.

“No, what are you doing?!” He embraced you tighter when you squirmed wildly.

“Peter, the kid could be in danger!”

“You don’t even know how to fight!”

“Oh, and you do?” You retorted without thinking. When he processed the absurdity you’d just uttered, he let go of you and stared at you dumbfounded, struggling to speak. Finally, he pointed at himself, his forehead creased.

“I’m Spider-Man!”

You scrunched up your nose, nodding. “Yeah, I don’t know why I said that.”

You totally did. As he remained puzzled, you took the chance and started a race to a tree standing near the woman and the kid. Completely forgetting about Peter’s super-speed, you thought you had succeeded until halfway there, he quickly caught up to you. Without a warning, he tackled you to the ground, falling on top of you whilst you cried out in pain.

“Ow! What the fuck, dude?!” You groaned loudly, but then you slapped your mouth when you recognized how noisy you’d been. Their conversation stopped abruptly, crickets singing whole-heartedly as you and Peter stared at each other wide-eyed.

“Did you hear that? Did you bring someone with you?” You both heard the woman ask. To your horror, footsteps approaching you were the next sound to reach your ears. “Hey, who’s there?!”

“Great, look at what you did—”

“You fucking tackled me to the ground!”

Peter surveyed the area promptly, and his gaze fixated on the tree you initially sprinted towards. He didn’t hesitate before he lifted his hand and aimed his wrist to shoot a web to get both of you out of there. But you had other plans.

You gripped the collar of his shirt, distracting him. “I’m so sorry for what I’m about to do, but just— just trust me and follow me, okay?” You breathed out, eyeing him. Peter opened his mouth, about to ask for you to elaborate.

“Wh—” You pulled him down and crashed your lips into his, muffling his exclamation of surprise. Stunned, his eyes stayed open, and when he didn’t react, yours fluttered open to signal at him to play the part. As soon as the hairs of his arms stuck up, he shut his eyelids closed and kissed you back, cupping your face and fully getting into it.

The woman jumped from behind the tree, confident she’d found the culprits of the noise, and— well— yes, she had. However, she didn’t expect to walk upon two people on the grass, in the middle of a make-out session. She grimaced the moment she saw your legs around Peter’s waist and your hands running all over his back as you fucking moaned to a point that it was forthright pornographic.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, her cheeks reddening perhaps more than your face and Peter’s, and she instantly turned around, leaving you two alone.

You two continued, waiting until the woman made an excuse and abandoned the teen. Ten seconds passed and you finally broke the kiss, panting heavily as Peter unknowingly searched for your lips again. “That worked like a charm, huh?” You laughed, dazed and the speed of your heartbeat only incrementing when you saw Peter’s swollen lips.

“Yeah, yeah… a better warning would’ve been nice.”

“Shut up.”

“And was the moaning really… necessary?”

“I saw it on a show. It makes people more uncomfortable.” You explained, out of breath, and he nodded. You both stared at each other, not bothering to move yet. “For the record, you’re a good kisser.” You blurted out and grinned sheepishly. Peter returned the expression, chuckling and unbelieving of your existence.

“S-So are you. But my plan was better.” He smiled bashfully, holding himself up with his hands next to your head. You doubted his statement, narrowing your eyes.

“Did it involve kissing?”

“No.”

“Then it wasn’t.”

You might have forgotten about your drug deal case and continued making out.

HELLO AND GOODBYE KISSES - TOOTHPASTE KISSES

Two months into dating, neither of you thought much about them anymore. Once they became part of your routine, it’s an absent-minded action, not much different from brushing your teeth, or Peter entering your apartment through your window instead of the door like everyone else. But then again, Peter wasn’t merely everyone else. And your unconscious routine kisses weren’t exactly just another bullet point in your ‘to-do’ list, either. If one of you forgot, or simply did not have enough time to spare, you’d both find yourselves missing it.

Which was why you tried your best to follow through with them, despite what situations either of you found yourselves in.

The alarm did not go off that morning (or perhaps you both passed out before you could set it in the first place— you couldn’t remember precisely), reason why you nearly choked on the lather of toothpaste while you brushed your teeth as if your life depended on it. In a way, however, it did, especially your job: you were now running outrageously late, and you could already imagine your boss’ blank expression as he told you he needed to ‘have a talk’ with you since this was the third time it occurred. You whined. You were doomed.

Peter joined you in the bathroom, jumping on one foot as he slid his other leg into his Spider-Man suit. He made a noise and caught your attention— finally, you noticed he had an entire piece of toast in his mouth. He tried to say something with the bread in between his teeth, but it was incomprehensible. You raised your brows, attempting to communicate with him without taking out your toothbrush. You both went on like that for thirty seconds: doing hand gestures and mumbling without getting any idea across until Peter finally put on his suit and bit off a chunk of his breakfast.

“Have you seen my phone?” He asked, his mouth full. You spat out the toothpaste and he couldn’t help the smitten smile that his heart painted onto his face when he saw the froth around your mouth.

“I put it right next to my keys.” You said as you washed your brush. Peter hummed and swallowed before he walked up to you.

“Alright, thanks. I really gotta run now, though.” He planted a kiss on your temple and you groaned in disgust when you felt the crumbles of his toast on your skin.

“Gross,” You wiped your forehead and Peter rolled his eyes, shoving you playfully and about to leave until you grabbed his arm. “Wait!” You encircled his neck with your arms and pecked his cheek for longer than usual, purposefully smearing his face with toothpaste.

“Ugh, gross!” He mimicked you and leaned away from you, laughing. You puckered your white lips, still trying to reach him but his arms pushed you back. “Nuh-uh, I gotta run.”

“No toothpaste kiss from your love?”

“No.”

“Toast kiss?”

“You’re gonna get fired.”

You let him go.

Later that night, Peter entered your living room, his search for you coming to an end once he saw you asleep on the couch. He laughed quietly, in the back of his head wishing he was sleeping, too, with you, and he kneeled down in front of you. He kissed the tip of your nose— the way he liked to greet you in spite of what state you were in. When he stood up, you blinked your eyes open and you lazily grinned up at him. “Peter-Man is back.”

His gaze moved down to you, guilt appearing after he saw you let out a long yawn. “Ah, man, I didn’t want to wake you.”

You had to return his hello kiss, and so you clutched his hand and pressed your mouth against his gloved knuckles. “C’mere. Join me in my slumber.” You said with an overdone accent.

He didn’t even consider telling you to move to your bed. He plopped down on the small space left and snuggled into you, his own yawn overpowering him. You hugged him tightly from behind, and within minutes, you were both deep into your sleep.

The next morning, you woke up late yet again.

HEATED KISSES - WE’VE GOT ONE THING IN COMMON, IT’S THIS TONGUE OF MINE

It’d been your first date in four months, and you swore your sex drive had never been higher.

Peter noticed, of course, and took the decision to ditch the dinner you had originally planned once you finished the movie you were watching— or tried to watch, since you couldn’t take your hands nor lips off him during its entirety. As the credits rolled, you straddled his hips, sucking on the flesh of his jaw. You itched to see his face when he groaned— and my God, that sound did not help your case at all.

You began to trail your mouth down his neck, decorating it with a whole masterpiece of bruises, and Peter wondered how he was going to cover those up; but at the moment, it did not matter a single bit. The two of you were too into it to pull away—

“Ugh, wait—” Or not. Peter stopped you and you blinked at him as he sat straight, taking out the TV’s control remote from under him. “That was really bothering me.” He immediately pulled you back into a kiss, tugging your hair and provoking a small moan out of you.

He broke away from you, his smirk transforming into the fuel feeding your lust. “You really like that, huh?”

“Shut up.” You mumbled and your lips continued to mold into each other with desperation, the sexual desire which had build-up since your last encounter brimming as your tongues met. Peter slowly began to lift the hem of your shirt, and your excitement erupted in the pit of your stomach at the fact that you finally wouldn’t have to wait anymore—

Your phone began to ring. You tried to ignore it, but your ringtone made it impossible. “Hold on,” You sighed, disappointed, and turned your phone off, your jaw set in annoyance. Yet again, you resumed where you left off, more urgent than before. Your hand moved his own back up to your hair whilst the other ran up his thigh. He failed in holding back the jerk of his hips as he pulled at your hair yet again, your moans synchronized. You couldn’t have been more elated you both wore your pajama bottoms as you began to grind down onto his crotch.

Peter dug his fingers into your hips and he threw his head back, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down when he gulped to keep his noises down lest your neighbors heard you. “No, no, I wanna hear you—” You breathed out, speeding up your pace, whining yourself. He collided his mouth against yours, grunting into your kiss.

You didn’t know what had gotten into you, but you really, really, really did not wish to stop. And you weren’t going to this time, no matter what—

“Tonight’s our last party as high school people!” A voice and music blasted from the TV and you both jolted away from each other, startled. The credits had gone on long enough that the streaming service began to play a trailer for another movie, the volume at its fullest from where you’d left it earlier. You let out the most exasperated groan in your lifetime and furiously moved off of Peter to go and unplug the TV; however, he slipped his hands under your butt and picked you up.

“The bedroom—” He panted and stopped neglecting your lips as he carried you and ran towards your room, the two of you giggling maniacally when he stumbled through the door and then slammed it shut.

The trailer played all night long.

EMOTIONAL KISSES - STOP YOUR CRYING, IT’S ALRIGHT— SHUT UP, KISS ME, HOLD ME TIGHT

Peter had lost the fight.

Although you were useless, you tried getting there in time, hoping you could cause any distraction that would give him an advantage. But you heard the explosion, the walls and the ground rattling, and you dreaded you were too late.

You fell through the double doors, nearly losing your full balance and dropping to the floor. However, you maintained your composure, and tried to scan the room. The smoke hit your eyes and they stung, tears forming in your eyes which grew redder as the seconds passed.

Fire blazed throughout most of the room. You went down on all fours and shrugged your jacket off before you rapidly fastened it around your lower face. Your trembling hand grasped the pipe you’d kept with you in case you came upon someone, and you began to crawl into a cloud of smoke, praying Peter was still alive and breathing.

You fought hard to hold in the sobs that clawed at your throat. You couldn’t break down. Not right now, when Peter needed you.

“Peter!” You called out, coughing as a trace of fumes managed to sneak into your system. You went on with your search, nevertheless, even after your hand accidentally touched a scorching piece of metal and left your flesh screaming. Keep going, you told yourself when you cried out in pain, shaking yourself out of it. “Peter, it’s me! I-I’m here!”

A minute went by at most, but it seemed like an eternity. A minute and ten seconds, until you caught a glimpse of Peter’s body surrounded by flourishing flames. “Pete!” You stood up and ran to him, uncaring of your knees as you collapsed next to him. “O-Oh God…” You saw his burnt suit and whimpered, not knowing anymore if the tears pouring down your face were due to the smoke or the appalling despair poisoning your veins. You didn’t waste a single moment dwelling on the sight in front of you, though— right away, you grabbed him under his armpits and took in a restricted breath before you dragged him with you. You only moved him a few inches before you fell to your knees, heaving.

“Why are you so fucking heavy,” You sobbed, the terrifying realization that you might not make it out of there hitting you at full force. “N-No, you’re coming with me. We’re getting out of here, okay, baby?”

You didn’t know why you were speaking to his unconscious body. Perhaps it was the faint desire that he wasn’t gone yet, and he could somehow hear you. You could sense a coughing fit coming, but you stood back up and started hauling Peter across the floor again, this time mustering every last shred of strength your body possessed.

You had no answer to how you made it. But soon, you had gotten Peter as far away from the room as you could, and your arms gave out. You ripped his mask off, cupping his face with your dirty hands. He barely breathed. “Don’t leave me. Don’t you fucking dare. I’m gonna be so mad if you do.” You wiped your nose with your forearm and shook your hands, coughing. “Okay, okay, CPR.”

You placed the heel of your hand on his chest and put the other on top to push down hard. Push, push, push. You carried on begging him to stay with you as you did the compressions, your arms already too weak from having to carry him, but you continued pushing. Push, push, push. When you realized he still wasn’t breathing, you cursed loudly and began to blow into his mouth. You went back to doing compressions.

At the third rescue breath, he began to cough.

“Peter!” You bit back another sob as you watched consciousness slowly return to him, and when he blinked his red eyes up at you, you grabbed his face and pecked his mouth countless times, your shoulders shuddering.

Not too long after, he finally understood what was happening, and he held your shoulders, viewing you up and down. “Oh, thank God you’re okay—”

“No, thank God you’re okay—”

“I was so worried about you.”

“I was worried about you!”

“I tried getting to you as soon as I could—” He pecked you back, his voice raspy. “—but more guys just kept coming at me—”

“A bomb fucking exploded, Peter. I thought you were gone.” You were now weeping. Peter kissed you one last time before he embraced you close, against his wounds’ wishes. As you both tried to calm down, he glanced down at your hands and saw your open knuckles.

His eyes widened. “What happened to you?!” You looked down at your hands, the pain only just setting in once you became aware of your cuts.

“I had to get up here somehow,” You laughed weakly, and pointed at the abandoned pipe a few feet away from you. “I also had that. I’ve got a mean swing you’d be surprised. And a taser.” You took out the taser from your pocket wiggling it. Peter stared at you, his eyes moving back and forth between the taser and the pipe.

“That’s kinda hot.”

“Almost as much as that explosion?”

He had to give you a high five before you finally took him to the hospital.

‘YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL’ KISSES - YOU’RE JUST TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE, CAN’T TAKE MY EYES OFF YOU

A comedian’s podcast played in the background as you knelt beside Peter on your bed, using a brush to spread a skincare product evenly on his face. Peter watched you, adoring eyes inspecting you closely while you caught your lower lip in between your teeth and giggled after you heard a joke which you found too amusing.

He drew patterns on your knee with his thumb and he squinted at you with curiosity, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards. “Since when are you a fan of this skincare stuff?”

You squeezed a dab of product onto the brush before you grasped his chin gently, leaning closer to his face. “This coworker of mine, his skin is, like, so damn soft and flawless. I asked him what kind of black magic he used and he gifted me this,” You motioned to the bottle next to you, “and so I thought: ‘Well, might as well try it with my poor boyfriend who fucking sweats into a mask most of the time’. Seriously, I feel so bad for your pores—”

“Hey, my skin isn’t that bad, though. It’s beautiful.” He joked. You smiled at his comment, agreeing with your head.

“You’re right. But it doesn’t mean it can’t be better. You also deserve to sit back and relax after that job interview you had today.”

Peter frowned when he saw your excitement at the mention of the interview, self-doubt sabotaging his attempt at relaxing. “I probably didn’t get the job.” He muttered.

Your brows knitted together and you pulled the brush away from his face to run your hand through his hair. “Shut up, you totally did. You’re the smartest guy I know.” You winked at him teasingly and he rolled his eyes, although his mouth twitched nonetheless. “Okay, you’re done! Now, look— let’s see my new glorious skin.” You gestured to your dried face, patting it to make sure it was ready.

“If our skin isn’t softer than a baby’s butt, I’m gonna sue.”

You snorted at him before you started scratching the product off your jaw. You hissed as it peeled off, pulling at your skin. You attempted to go on, but your pain tolerance was a joke at the moment. “Fuck, I think this now officially gonna be my face for the rest of my life.” You groaned. Peter gently pulled your hands away from your face.

“Lemme try.”

“No!” You playfully slapped his hands off you. “You’re probably gonna rip my face off.” And so he simply stared as you resumed your torture and voiced your complaints, until you gave up once you’d managed to free half of your face.

Needless to say, you looked like an absolute clown.

In the midst of your battle against the face mask, Peter himself struggled to keep a serious face as he watched you and the product hardened, limiting the range of his expressions. You heard him laugh strangely, and you glanced up at him only to see him with his mouth half-open, his shoulders bouncing up and down with his chuckles, but he remained with a straight-face.

You quirked a brow when his laughter increased, his eyes tearing up. “What is wrong with you?”

“I-I can’t laugh.” He gasped, his face starting to twist. You began to laugh at him then, spreading the hilarity further like a virus. “N-No, don’t laugh! You’ll make laugh and I can’t laugh!” He shook his head frantically, his face mask starting to crack.

“You look like an idiot,” You wheezed, and all he could do was admire you as you cracked up and held your stomach, your beam making his chest swell.

Your appearance was ridiculous at the moment, yet you mesmerized him nevertheless.

When you noticed he’d stopped laughing, you wiped your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, and saw his small smile. “What?” You questioned him, wondering if perhaps he gasped so much he was now dizzy. His grin grew. He didn’t care about the mask anymore.

“You’re so beautiful.”

You pretended to gag, although your face heated up and your mouth curved into a smile. “Shut up, you’re so lame, God.”

“But you are!”

“Stop!”

“You’re so beautiful!” He yelled out dramatically to tease you. All of a sudden, he pulled you closer to him and grabbed your face, determined on peppering all the visible skin of your face with kisses. Your giggles were out of control as you tried squirming out of his grasp, but he continued pecking you over, and over, and over again.

“I’m gonna throw up!” You laughed, and he smooched your cheek. “You’re a loser, I swear.”

He was your loser.

HOLIDAY KISSES - BABY, I’M IN LOVE WITH YOU, AND IF YOU SAY YOU LOVE ME TOO, IT WOULD BE CHRISTMAS EVERY DAY

It’d been eight months since you started dating, and neither of you had said ‘I love you’ yet.

It’s not that there existed no love. Just like you had said the night you first kissed, the love was mutual, but— again— you preferred to show it differently other than verbally. Or at least other than being straight-forward. It was expressed loud and clear whenever Peter squeezed in time in the morning to make you breakfast, every time you both teased each other or you told him to ‘shut up’, and, of course, in the most simple and obvious way: with every single kiss you shared. But you couldn’t have cried it out louder when you told Peter you’d take care of planning the Christmas Eve celebration at F.E.A.S.T.

You knew everything about Peter. You saved a special place in your brain with every detail about him: his fears, his wishes, his regrets, his shoe size— everything. It’s a perk from knowing him since middle school, and now that you were together, you’d only uncovered the remaining information buried deep within. Therefore, after he got a new job that made him as content as working with Otto Octavius did before everything went downhill, you were aware that if you hadn’t intervened, Peter would have overloaded with stress from trying to juggle every aspect of his life plus dealing with the Christmas Eve party.

However, that meant you transferred the restlessness from him to yourself.

Two months of relentless planning, and at last, it was Christmas Eve. At the back of the room, you watched your friend’s band play a Christmas song from afar, anxiously supervising that everyone enjoyed the night. Suddenly, you felt a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind and a chin atop your head.

“Hey,” You heard Peter say and you smiled, leaning back into his embrace. “I haven’t been able to hang out with you at all during the night.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure everything was going well.” Your voice, distant and distraught, deepened Peter’s frown. He turned you around and held your face, brushing your cheek with his knuckles.

“I’m proud of you. You did a great job.”

Although his words made your chest glow, you glanced back at the performance. “Thanks. I was able to add in a few things since I convinced Harry’s dad to donate some money. I guess being his favorite out of you, Mary Jane, and I helped after all, huh?”

“Well, you can relax now,” He rubbed your shoulders, and you just then realized how tense they were. “The night’s almost over.” Peter reassured you and you sighed, closing your heavy eyes.

“Anything could happen, though.” You forced out a laugh, worry forming a crease in between your eyebrows. “What if something catches on fire? Actually, did you know that people can randomly combust? There’s this one case—”

“Y/N.” For once, he was the one stopping you from rambling.

“There’s still five songs left of the set.” You pouted at him, trying to convince him to let you off the hook, but he simply stared at you, concerned.

“I talked to Miles, he’s going to take your place while you take a break.”

“I don’t need a break, I just have to watch—”

“Remember the night when we first kissed, and you told me that I needed to stop overworking myself?” He recalled, raising his brows. You pressed your lips together, recognizing how hypocritical you appeared at the moment.

“This is different, though. I need this to be perfect.” You mumbled. Peter’s brows drew together in confusion.

“Why?”

“Because of May!” You said, raising your voice a little. The floor now seemed more interesting than Peter or your surroundings. “She deserves it. She really cared about F.E.A.S.T., so I know how important this is for you, too.” You admitted, all of a sudden quiet.

The corners of his mouth turned downwards. He grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead before his soft gaze interlocked with yours. “Y/N, I bet she’d be so proud right now that she wouldn’t shut up about it, like, ever.” You both laughed, but you smiled weakly, hugging him strongly. “And spending time with you is really important for me, too.” He whispered.

Peter took in a sharp breath and dug his hand into his pocket. “I know it’s Christmas Eve, but I wanted to give you one present today.”

You tilted your head, your heart falling as remembrance dawned upon you. “But I left my gifts back home.”

“It’s alright, I-I just…” He took out a tiny box and your eyes widened in panic. “Before you freak out, it’s not… it’s not what you think.” He chuckled nervously and opened it, revealing a silver band ring.

You covered your mouth with your fist while your other hand grasped the ring carefully, inspecting the diamond cut running through the middle. “Pete… it’s so pretty, oh my God. I can’t even imagine how much you spent on it.” You said, guilt etched onto your face.

Peter tried to shrug nonchalantly, but he had to admit the expense stung a bit. “Don’t think about the price tag,” He joked, and then pointed down at the ring. “Look inside it, though.”

You followed his orders and spotted something engraved inside. You lifted it closer to your face to read it properly, squinting your eyes, and once you did, you looked up at Peter’s nervous face with a grin growing on yours. “You… love me?”

It was about damn time.

“Y-You… you like it?” He asked rapidly, his own heart mirroring the speed of his words.

In the blink of an eye, you met his lips with a deep kiss, unable to stop yourself from smiling into it. “You’re so fucking dramatic, you could’ve just told me but you had to buy a whole ass ring to tell me you loved me.” You nudged him playfully.

“I wanted to be cute!”

“You’re automatically cute, you don’t even have to try.” Peter proved your point as the color of cotton candy painted his cheeks. “But I love it. And I love you, God, I love you so much, Peter, you have no clue.”

He did. And he loved you back just as much.

#peter parker x reader #ps4 peter parker x reader #mcu #peter parker x you #peter parker imagine #peter parker fluff #peter parker one shot #insomniac spider-man #spider man ps4 #spiderman x reader #peter parker x y/n #fem! reader #male!reader #gender neutral

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leejihoonownsmyheart · 4 years

Text

시애

Summary:

“My heart always timidly hides itself behind my mind. I set out to bring down stars from the sky, then, for fear of ridicule, I stop and pick little flowers of eloquence.” -Cyrano de Bergerac

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Current/Final Part

Part 4:

When you got a text from Dohae saying that she was going to be debuting soon, you had to admit that you were happy for her. How could you be anything else? For a trainee, debuting was the ultimate dream. Some people trained for years and years before they finally got the opportunity to debut.

Dohae had been a trainee for three years now, and you couldn’t help but think she was quite lucky to have transferred over to Pledis when she had so that she was able to get this opportunity.

She was, of course, extremely excited, and invited you over to hang out with her in celebration.

Don’t worry! No Jihoon tonight, just you and me for once!

You were pretty excited. Lies down to a minimum, and just a chance to relax with someone who was quickly becoming one of your closest friends. You were excited.

You were quick to knock on the practice room door when you arrived (having stopped by the dorms and said hi to Kara quickly first of course). Dohae perked up the second she saw you, the largest smile falling over her lips when she spotted you.

“Sang Goo,” she called eagerly. She ran up to you and attacked you with a tight hug before you could say much of anything. You stumbled backwards slightly and offered her a friendly smile.

“Hey there, miss idol, how are you doing?”

Dohae burst out into delighted giggles, which quickly morphed into her doing a little jumpy shriek thing. Watching her get so excited over something so simply was honestly really amusing. You couldn’t help but bounce a little too.

“I’m doing incredible! Sang Goo, I’m going to debut!”

She did a little spin away from you.

“Me? Me! I’m going to debut Goo!” She continuted to exclaim. “Oh tonight we have so much we have to do! We have to go out and eat pizza, and go to the park and wish on the stars and then go buy a cake- not individual ones a whole cake- and just eat it until we can’t eat anymore.”

You laughed at Dohae’s excitement, shaking your head in amusement.

“Dohae, if you eat that much you will weigh too much to debut.”

Dohae laughed.

“Don’t worry I’ll train super hard tonight so that I stay in shape.”

She squealed again and raced back over to you, grabbing your hands.

“Oh Goo, I'm going to debut!”

You laughed with Dohae, shaking your head in amusement.

“Wow... You’re just full of excitement aren’t you?” You asked in amusement. Dohae nodded.

“Pure excitement.”

She paused, and her face morphed into one of horror in a millisecond.

“Oh my god, I’m debuting.”

You snickered at her transformation, finding it a little amusing the way that she was no pacing the room.

“Oh my god, is it going to be hard? I’m going to have all of these fans- Unless our debut is bad, I would die if our debut is bad. I-”

Watching Dohae rant about all of the things could go wrong made a lot of things happen in a short period of time.

One: You stopped thinking about yourself as Sang Goo. Something that was very, very bad for yourself. You always had to think of yourself as Sang Goo, because if you didn’t then you would just think of yourself as yourself. A simple idol who had a lot of close friends that you cared about.

And, sadly, thinking of yourself in such a way meant that you didn’t not think twice about trying to comfort Dohae. And you didn’t think about the words that you chose to say as you did so.

“Dohae, it’s going to be okay. I can tell you and Jihoon can too. Debuting is nerve-wracking but in the end it’s just the start to the life you were always meant to lead.”

Dohae fell silent, her eyebrows furrowing slightly. She seemed confused, but you didn’t know why.

“Jihoon... Why do you say so?”

The question caught you off-guard but you were quick to get back on your feet.

“Just because you two are so close now, and you know how Jihoon is. He is practical. Smart. He thinks things through before he speaks. I’m sure you’ve seen the way that he thinks before he does things. His nose wrinkles a little sometimes as he ways the multiple thoughts in his head...” You assured. “And you know that if he’s friends with you, he must think you are talented! He’s only friends with really talented people. And-”

“Oh my god... You’re in love with Jihoon.”

You felt your heart jump. You turned to look over your shoulder at Dohae but … It was too late. You could see the gears in her mind churning.

“You do, don’t you? It all makes sense now. I’m so stupid.”

“No-”

“Yes, your name isn’t Goo, you are Siae. You’re the one who is in love with an idol and won’t show their face because he doesn’t know yet, and the reason why you were so good at helping me tell Jihoon that I love him is because you love him too.”

“Doha-”

“And Jihoon never loved me. Well, not in the same way he loves you,” Dohae continued. It was almost frustrating... For a girl who was generally so airheaded to finally have the sense to call you out on something that you were able to fool so many into believing. “He loves your words. He loves that you understand him. He doesn’t love the silly things that you tell him. Like about my dancing and about my family life. He likes the way that you bring words to life. The way that you make things happen on a piece of paper.”

“You don’t know that,” you disagreed with a roll of your eyes, but the phrase made Dohae grab your wrist. The action startled you, and you were suddenly forced into a deadlock with Dohae. She gave you a stern look, her grip tight on you.

“How could you be such a hypocrite? This whole time you have been telling me that I need to tell the truth, and you... You're the biggest liar of them all.”

The words were a sting to your heart, but you knew they were true. All of this time you had told Dohae how important it was that she embrace herself. That she just trust her heart and follow where it lead, all while you hid behind her pretty face and a piece of paper.

You had thought when you debuted as Siae you were pursing your dream in its fullest. That the only reason you hadn’t exposed your face despite the awards you had already received and the love for your music that had b een expressed was because of Jihoon. You wanted him to fall for you for who you were on the inside, not what you looked like.

You said that you were brave, that you were confident and believed in yourself but in the truth you were no different then Dohae. She just hid from one person while you hid from the entire world.

Your gaze lowered down to the ground and you let your hair fall in your face. You supposed another mask that you hid behind.

“You’re right,” you murmured.

Her grip loosened a little bit on your arm.

“Wh-what?” She asked. You sighed and looked back up at her.

“You’re right,” you repeated. “You’re right about everything. I’m a fake.”

You weren’t sure why Dohae responded that way that she did, but at your words her fingers completely left your arm. She kneeled down a little bit and brushed her knuckles over your forehead in an attempt to see your eyes. You looked up at her, wondering why she suddenly looked so surprised when she saw your face.

It was when her other hand rose to your cheek, her knuckle brushing your cheek bone that you realized that you were crying.

“Hey it’s okay....”

“Is it?” You blurted back. The words came out a little too harshly, so you closed your eyes and took a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, it’s just... I keep telling myself that I’m this... Ideal person. Someone who is confident and cool under pressure but when it comes down to it. I’m nothing more than a coward.”

“It’s scary to be yourself,” Dohae replied back, a small smile riddling over her lips. “Someone I’m really close to taught me that.”

You smiled at her, a tiny chuckle leaving your lips as you did so.

“I guess I owe you the truth then?” You murmured. Dohae stepped back from you and you wiped the remainder of wetness from your cheeks.

“You don’t have to-”

“No, no I want to,” you replied softly. You took a shaky sigh and pushed your hands in your pockets.

You told her pretty much everything she needed to know.

How you fell in love with Jihoon and his stage persona, and how the crush never wavered or went away. That how watching him achieve his dreams made you want to achieve your own dreams as well, so you stomached all of the nerves that you had been facing and joined an entertainment company.

You told her all about your trials and tribulations. How hard you had fought to be where you were today. And how you had never meant to start lying like this. How you had never wanted to let everything get this far.

“So, all this time...” She murmured.

You shrugged.

“I’ve been living a double life,” you replied with a small laugh. “I never thought it would get this far... And I never imagined that you would figure out that I liked Jihoon like this.”

“It’s you.”

Your eyes widened, as you stared at Dohae. She looked just as surprised as you and glanced over your shoulder at who you could only assume was standing there. Your body stiffened and you had just managed to calm yourself down.

“Dohae is that-”

“Yep.”

You turned around.

“Look I can explain- I mean, the letters-”

“Oh, I knew that it was you who was writing the letters,” Jihoon interrupted with a wave of his hand. “No offense Dohae, you’re gorgeous, it’s just that talking to you in person and then reading your writing... It was clear that I was talking to two different people.”

Dohae waved a hand through the air.

“It’s okay, I understand,” she said softly.

“And once it came down to it, there could only be one person who was writing me the letters. You. You’re close to Kyuhyun and Dohae- It just made sense,” Jihoon continued. You opened your mouth to deny what Jihoon was saying, but before you could he continued.

“Besides, I also knew that it had to be you who was Siae. You’re singing voice-”

You knew it, you knew he had known and here it was, the truth.

Jihoon knew you were Siae. He knew that you were in love with him.

And it was too much for you to handle.

You took a step backward, not saying a word as you did so. No one noticed so you took another one, and then another, and then before you knew it you were running in the opposite direction. You could hear Jihoon calling after you, but in the moment, you didn’t care at all. You just had to get out of there.

“Wait, where are you-”

And before they could say another word to you, you were running. You rain past Jihoon, out of the training room, out of Pledis, until you couldn’t run anymore. You felt tears streaming down your face as you slowed down your sprint, but you couldn’t really bring it in yourself to care.

You felt your phone buzz in your pocket and your eyes widened slightly in surprise. You looked down, sniffling as you pulled your phone out of your pocket.

Dohae: Hey are you okay?

Dohae: Why did you run off? Come back!

Dohae: Look, no one is upset, can’t we just talk about this?

Dohae: Please come back

But you couldn't do it. You couldn't come back to them. You couldn't look either of them in the eyes. You had lied to them for so long. You couldn't do it. All you could do now was what you had always planned on doing.

You had been planning on this the whole time. Once the truth came out, the truth had to come all the way out. You had to come clean with everything.

That meant the mask had to come off.

That meant all you could do was compose.

You received hundreds of texts from Dohae over the next few weeks, but you ignored them all. It wasn't that you were mad at her, it was just that facing her right now sounded like too much to handle. You couldn't look her in the face when she had found out your secret.

You had wanted to be the one to tell them who you were... Sure you hadn't figured out how to do it yet, but you had still wanted to be the one to tell them in the end.

So, you ignored Dohae, you ignored the warnings you kept getting from Kyuhyun. You didn't care if you were working too hard. If focusing exclusively on your revelatory comeback wasn't healthy. You just dove right into everything, working hard on what you had promised yourself you would achieve long ago.

Writing the song was easy and composing it with Kyuhyun was actually quite fun. It took your mind off of things. Made you forget for a second what all you had to worry about.

Until finally, it was time to face the music.

Well... Not the literally music.

When you saw Dohae seated at the restaurant you told her to meet you at- the first one you had ever eaten at with her, you felt oddly nervous. Your body buzzed with anxiety, basically screaming at you to run away again.

But Dohae was your friend.

It was wrong to have run away from her in the first place, and wrong for you to have lied to her for so long, and left her in the dark so often.

You took a deep breath and walked up to her.

The first thing you wanted to say was that you were sorry, that you were thankful she was meeting you and that you were happy to see her, but before you could say any of that she looked up at you and broke out into a large smile.

"I was so worried!" Dohae blurted out. She jumped towards you, her arms wrapping around your body as she wrapped you in a tight hug. "It's been forever, how are you are you okay?"

She pulled away from you, her hands taking yours. She looked you up and down and her smiled dropped from her face.

"You've lost weight. Have you not been eating?"

You opened your mouth to tell her that you had been eating- a lie, but a better one then just lying about your entire personality and name and... Well, everything.

"You know it isn't healthy to not eat. Just because you're an idol doesn't mean that-"

You interrupted Dohae by leaning forward, your arms wrapping around her tightly.

"Dohae," you whispered softly. "I missed you a lot."

You felt the tension leaving Dohae’s body.

“I missed you too,” she said softly. You pulled away from her and gave her a small smile.

“I know I don’t deserve it, but-”

“Of course, I forgive you,” she said softly. “I was never mad; I could never be mad at you. You had your reasons and I understand that.”

“Yeah?” You asked.

“Yeah,” Dohae mumbled. You shook your head.

You couldn’t believe that you had been so stupid. To think that Dohae would care about something like you lying about your name and a bit of your backstory. To her your lie meant nothing. She knew that you were genuine when you were with her, and that’s what mattered the most to her.

You were glad to be able to call her a friend.

After eating a meal with her and catching up on everything you looked down at your watch and sighed.

“Well, I have a comeback coming soon, so I better get-”

“Jihoon misses you.”

You froze, slowly looking back up at Dohae. Her expression was different then it had been all day. It was more serious. Solemn.

“He’s giving you the space he thinks you need but he misses you a lot.”

“Did you tell him?” You asked. “That you were seeing me today.”

“No,” Dohae responded. “I couldn’t. I knew that you wouldn’t want that.”

“Thank you.”

“But you can’t avoid him forever.”

You knew that she was right. It was so... High school of you to have run away from him. Even more elementary of you to continue hiding from him. But you couldn’t face him. Not yet. Not when you had lied to him. Someone who valued honesty so much.

You looked down, away from Dohae.

“I’ll see you around Dohae.”

“Bye.”

The next thing you knew, it was time for your stage.

You were nervous, of course you were nervous.

You had spent these past few months hiding behind a mask. One that hid who you were and the truth behind everything and now you had to take a step out of that mask. Set it aside forever and reveal to the whole world who you really were.

You were excited, but also, nervous. How could you not be after all? You were giving yourself to the world raw. It was a lot.

“Nervous?”

You looked back at Kara, smiling nervously.

“A little,” you admitted.

“Less then you’re debut though. You aren’t singing now,” she said with a chuckle. You snickered.

“It’s basically like a debut,” you replied. “Now everyone gets to see my face.”

“Your beautiful face,” Kara said affectionately. She reached forward to touch your face, but you just laughed and fell away from her.

“You’ll ruin my makeup!”

You squealed as Kara continued to chase you around the room, doing your best to stay away from her until finally the door to the dressing room opened, and Kyuhyun poked his head through the door.

“It’s time to go.”

You slowed to a stop, laughing nervously.

“You think I’m ready?” You asked him softly. He smiled.

“You were born ready.”

When the lights on stage shined down on you and all that was left for you was you and the microphone.

I’m sorry for the lies,

I’m sorry for the truth,

I hope that what you see soon,

Doesn’t disappoint you

But I can’t hide forever, even if I wanted to

And I do

You took the edge of your mask, took a deep breath and ripped it off your face.

But here I am, here I stand

There’s no one else around

But me and you, all I am

You know this is what’s true

I love you, oh I love you

It’s hard to say, I must admit

Because the words never seem to fit

But I fell for you as easy as the sun brings the day

I wonder what you have to say

But here I am, here I stand

There’s no one else around

But me and you, all I am

You know this is what’s true

I love you, oh I love you

And I don’t know what you have to say, maybe I’ll never know what

It’s hard to be yourself, in this authentic world

But after lying to you, it’s only fair to say

I’m sorry for it all and hope you can forgive me one day

But here I am, here I stand

There’s no one else around

But me and you, all I am

You know this is what’s true

I love you, oh I love you

The lights went down on stage and you felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

You knew that if Dohae was telling the truth, Jihoon would watch this stage. Maybe Jihoon would accept your apology.

But if she was wrong. If she was lying, you may never see him again.

However, you didn’t need to worry about it for long.

You opened the door to your dressing room, and when you saw who was sitting at the vanity, you felt like all of the air had been punched out of your gut.

“Jihoon.”

“Hey.”

There was an awkward silence as you stared at him and he raised an eyebrow as you just stood there staring at him.

“Aren’t you going to come in?” He asked. You sucked in a breath and nodded, wandering into the room. You shut the door behind you and then turned to face him again, your eyes widening slightly.

“I...” You shook your head. “Did you...?”

“Yeah, it was good,” he replied. “You were amazing. People love you, you know.”

“I hope they aren’t let down,” you said with a chuckle, gesturing nervously to your face.

“You are beautiful.”

Your faced blazed red and you risked a look back up to Jihoon, unable to help yourself. He looked genuine.

“Th-”

“Why did you run?” He asked softly. You choked on air and looked away from him again, feeling those nervous butterflies in your stomach again. You couldn’t really believe it. Just how nervous you were. It was just Jihoon.

But that was just the problem, wasn’t it?

“I was just... Scared,” you replied softly. “It’s kind of something that I have always been. It’s why I couldn’t tell you from the beginning. Why I tried to get you with Dohae. Hiding is so much easier then actually telling the truth.”

Jihoon pursed his lips and nodded.

“Then, let’s do something different,” he suggested. He stood up and brushed off his pants. He smiled at you and held out his hand.

“Hello!” He greeted pleasantly. “My name is Jihoon.”

You smiled at Jihoon, a wave of relief coming over you.

“Really? You still want to be with me?” You said. “Even after all the lies.”

Jihoon shrugged, keeping his hand in the air.

“You were scared, sometimes people lie,” he stated pointedly. “You had good intentions.”

He sighed.

“Besides, I read your letters. Your feelings are genuine, I want to give this a shot,” he insisted. “So.... Hello! My name is Jihoon.”

He stared at you, a genuine sparkle of honesty in his eyes. It made you smile to watch him like that. You couldn’t believe that he was giving you this chance. This opportunity. He trusted you, he wanted to give you a shot.

This was everything you had ever dreamed and more.

The whole time that you had imagined this you had thought that something tragic would happen. Like the further into the lie you went the more tragic the outcome would be. But here you were, the perfect beginning to a love story that had all of the makings to be amazing.

You swallowed your nerves and gave Jihoon a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you Jihoon. My name is...”

#Thanks for reading Siae!#seventeen #seventeen fanfiction #seventeen fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop #woozi #kpop fanfic #svt #lee jihoon #seventeen kpop

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clemanime · 5 years

Text

Fantasy

A/N: I was reading through @impala-dreamer smutty confession’s and I’m happy that I’m not the only one that’s... yeah. I was going to submit something anonymously but I felt like a short description of it wasn’t enough. So here is somewhat of what’s been going on in my head while thinking of Sam Winchester.

WARNING: Smut, teasing, wirty dords (dirty words), spicy stuff, oral, teasing

She looked at the heavy metal door that shielded her from what was inside. Her hands were buried deep in her coat pockets, contemplating whether she should have listened to her brothers and sisters. They told her that it would be impossible for her to enter their stronghold. There were symbols to keep her out and others that would trap her. None of them would be able to save her if she were to get trapped. Taking her chances, she opened the door slowly, looking around before stepping onto the cool concrete at the entrance. She moved through the bunker with ease, covered by the darkness throughout it. Her game plan was to appeal to the younger Winchester, convince him that she wasn’t a threat and she didn’t consume the souls of the innocent.

Slipping into Sam’s room, she lightly closed the door behind her. She kept to a corner, watching him as he slept. She needed to go into his dreams with a friendly face. Someone he knew or even loved. She closed her eyes, steadying her breath as she entered his mind.

Sam sat at the table in a random diner. He looked around confused at first before it settled and he was looking at her. Jessica sat across from Sam, a white coffee mug in her hand. She looking up at Sam, smiling slightly. “Hi Sam.”

“Jess.” He was taken aback. “It’s been a long time.”

“I know.” She smiled lovingly at him. “I wanted to tell you something.” She leaned in, the smile still on her lips. “I wanted to tell you that the Succubus you’re chasing isn’t dangerous. She doesn’t want to be hunted down.”

“Jess.” Sam smiled, shaking his head. “I have my reasons for hunting it down.” His expression was stern.

She faltered.

“Look Sammy-”

“You’re not allowed to call me Sammy.” He cut in. “Cut the crap.”

She sighed, rubbing her face in annoyance. She revealed her true self, looking up to talk to him but he was gone.

Opening her eyes, she was met with the intense gaze of a very tall and upset Winchester. Stepping back, she found herself trapped in the dark corner. “Sam. Please listen.” He stalked towards her, a knife in hand.

“You took a big risk coming here.” He stated, pausing when her eyes lingered on the knife. “I didn’t expect that you’d be bold enough to show up in my room and slime your way in my dream.” He continued his slow movements. “What’s wrong? Is the big bad Hunter scaring the little Succubus?”

“I’m not a bad person.” She rushed out. “I only consume the souls of corrupted people. I just want to be left alone.”

“I don’t think I want to leave you alone.” He put the knife on the desk beside them, his hand going up to her face. He held her chin between his index finger and thumb, making sure that her eyes were locked with his. “I have plans for you.”

“Sam.” Her body was screaming. Wanting her to leave, to run. She could easily overpower him, but the knife was so close, and she knew how fast he was.

In one motion Sam had her over his shoulder, carrying her to his bed and throwing her down. She gasped, watching as he pulled off his t-shirt. “Like I said. I have plans.” She moved to get up, but Sam put his hand on her chest, stopping her. “You’re not going anywhere for a while. So, get comfortable.” He winked at her, climbing on the bed and pulling her by her ankles to that she was closer to him.

“Is that why you’ve been hunting me down?” She questioned. “Because you want me to sleep with you?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

He had that stupidly boyish smirk on his lips as he looked at her.

“Do you know how scary it is to find out that a Winchester is looking for you?” She sat up, arms crossed as she pouted.

“The fear in your eyes was adorable.” He joked, leaning forward. “I found out about you from some old man. He wouldn’t shut up about a beautiful Angel that did things to him.”

“I’m far from an Angel.” She spoke softly.

“Oh?” He questioned. “I’ll have to see for myself.”

She pulled him against her, kissing his lips until the were red and slightly swelled. As she nipped and sucked on Sam’s bottom lip, he made work of her clothes, peeling off her coat. She wore a cropped black bandage lace bustier that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Sam turned his attention to her shorts, pulling them off without a second thought.

A second later, Sam was under her, confused as to how they got into that position when he was the one taking the lead. She straddled his lap, pushing him down on his back. She slowly ground her hips against his, biting her bottom lip to stifle her moans. It had been a while since she had sex and knowing that Sam probably needed it as much as she did, it made the experience all the more fun. Sam grabbed her hips and pulled her down against his growing member. “Don’t hide your voice.” He smirked, bucking his hips against her and shooting jolts of pleasure through her.

“Wh- what about Dean?” She questioned, biting harder on her lip.

“What about him?”

There was that smirk again. Sam pushed his pajama pants down, freeing his member as he kept his soul piercing eyes on her. “You don’t waste time.”

“You’re going to be here all night.” He smirked, pulling her back down against him. “You’re so warm and so wet.” He huffed, his eyes finally closing. “…so good.” She circled her hips, her hands resting his own. Just grinding against him was enough to send her over the edge. Her body froze, lifting her body so that he wasn’t able to touch her sensitive spot as she climaxed. “That’s no good.”

Sam sat up, his strong arms wrapping around her and turning them over, his large hands pinning her wrists against his bed. He pushed into her, pulling a sweet gasp from her. She put her hands on his chest, stopping him. “You evil man.” She whimpered, looking up at him. She clenched around him, needing a minute to gather the thoughts she couldn’t get a hold of. “Sam!” She cried out as her began to thrust into. Sam held her hips, squeezing them. “Sl-slow!” He did as request, pulling all the way out before pushing himself all the way to his base. “Sammy!” She felt herself beginning to shake.

“You wanted me to go slow.”

She hated the fact that his smirk was making her weaker. His dark eyes watching her every move as she tried her hardest to contain all the noises she was making. She climaxed, her body tensing as her back arched with her eyes shut tight. “Stop fucking with me Sam.” She whimpered when she caught her breath, eyes brimming with tears.

“Little Succubus can’t take it anymore?” Sam pressed the pad of his thumb against her lips.

“You’re being mean.” She pouted.

“I’m being mean?” He leaned in, pecking her lips before standing up, grabbing her wrist and pulling her towards his desk. He turned her around, bending her over the wooden surface and grabbing the back of her knee and resting it on the desktop. “I’ll be nice from now on.” He slowly pushed into her, his large hand on her exposed back as the other kept a tight hold on her leg. She tried her hardest to keep quiet, her body moving on its own, yearning for him to quicken his pace.

She reached for something, anything to ground herself, her toes curling with pleasure. She gripped the edge of the desk with one hand as the other covered her mouth. She shook violently, another climax rushing over her body. She looked back at Sam, her eyes glazing over as he continued to slowly rock his hips. “Sam.” She moaned weakly.

“You’re still holding back your voice.” He smirked. He turned her around, licking his lips as he slowly moved his hand over her stomach and resting on her chest. “I don’t care about Dean hearing you.” He spoke softly into her ear.

Sam draped her legs over his arms, hands resting on the desk as he pushed himself back into her. She bit her bottom lip, nails scratching against his biceps. “Come on little Succubus.” He pressed his forehead against hers. “I want to hear it.”

“Sam.” She moaned, her legs opening wider. “More. Please. More.”

Sam obliged, pounding into her. She gasped, his member assaulting the spot that sent her thoughts into a frenzy. She could only think about the way he was pleasuring her. Her moans grew louder as she grew closer to another climax.

The pair climaxed together, Sam pulling out of her and releasing on her stomach. She stared at him, biting her bottom lip. He let her go, stepping back as she struggled to stand up. “Sam.” She pointed at him. Her eyes were still glazed over, seeming as if she had experienced the most pleasure in her lifetime. But she wanted more, she needed more. “Sam.”

“Get on the bed then.” He motioned with his head.

She moved towards him, dropping to her knees instead. With raised eyebrow, Sam watched her, grabbing his member and opening her mouth. She kept her eyes locked with his, seeing them darkening more only encouraged her actions. Sam groaned as she sucked him off, her tongue working expertly around the head of him.

Sam pushed his fingertips into her hair, groaning as he hit the back of her throat. She ran her tongue along the understand of his member, sucking intensely on the head as her hand pumped his shaft. She could feel him getting closer, his member pulsing. He growled, finishing in her mouth. She didn’t stop flicking her tongue against his tip, lapping up his warm seed. She stood up, pushing him back on his bed. Her eyes still glossed. “More Sam.” She climbed on top of him, lowering herself on him and sighing with pleasure.

She leaned forward, cupping his cheek as she slowly ground her hips against his. She circled her hips, moaning his name as she felt herself peaking again. Her head was swarming, body shaking as she let out a pleasured scream. Sam’s hand shot to her mouth, covering it as he smirked.

She road out her high, eyes closed before finally going back to normal and looking into his eyes. “No more?” Sam questioned.

“No more.” She agreed, falling against him. “For now.”

#Sam Winchester #sam smut #sam winchester smut #smut #main masterlist

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Note

Hello Raven! May I request a scenario Jamil, Ace, and Floyd calling Azul Zuzu just to be shits? ...... yeah you know who this is LANDJKSJFJS

For @pianostarinwonderland~ ;3c

Fun fact, I actually have a friend that gets “drunk” off of non-alcoholic apple cider. They were the inspiration for this piece, so shoutout to them!

Imagine this...

“Cheers!”

Laughter bubbled up. Cups were raised and clinked together, the colorful liquids inside dancing about in the dim lights of the Mostro Lounge. The jellyfish lamps strung up above cast pinks and blues in purples into the fruit juice--juices of rich plums and cherry reds.

Ace polished his drink off in a few short swigs, then slammed his cup down with a satisfied “Phwaaah! That really hit the spot!”

He jerked his head toward a taller boy and called out to him. “Yo, Floyd-senpai! Thanks for bringing the Basketball Club here! I haven’t had stuff this tasty in a while.”

“Mmm? Kani-chan likes it?” The eel shared a sly smirk with their server--Azul--before slapping an encouraging hand on the small of Ace’s back. “Good, good~ Eat and drink lots more, then~”

“I am pleased to hear such a rave review,” Azul gestured to the pitcher in his hand. “Would you care for another refill?”

“Hit me.” Ace eagerly thrust his cup out to the octopus--but a hand caught his wrist and brought it back down. The Heartslabyul student cut a glare at his team mate. “Oi, what’s your problem?”

“You shouldn’t drink more,” Jamil warned, his voice steady, yet stern. “At this rate, you’re going to drain the club finances...”

And your dignity.

Jamil had attended enough Basketball Club gatherings to pick up on Ace’s behavior patterns. The first year was already brash as it was, but he became even more mouthy when he was high on happiness and a full stomach.

“Haaah? Butt out, Jamil-senpai. We won the game, so stop being a buzzkill and just let me celebrate how I want!”

“This is Azul we’re talking about. And you,” Jamil added, folding his arms and turning his attention to Floyd, “had a hand in this as well. You suggested the Mostro Lounge for our victory meal. I suppose you two thought this would be a good opportunity to line your pockets.”

“My, so you’ve already uncovered my nefarious scheme,” Azul gasped dramatically, clutching at his heart. “I should have expected nothing less from the great Jamil-sama.”

Scarabia’s vice dorm leader frowned. “Stop that.”

“Mouuuu, Umihebi-kun’s got us all figured out, Azul.” Floyd pouted, his cheeks puffed up like an inflated pufferfish.

“No matter,” his boss replied, quickly dismissing his remark. Azul plastered on his most polite smile before addressing Jamil again. “I must commend you for your quick wit. As an apology, please accept all drinks on the house tonight.”

The octopus generously topped off Ace’s glass, then moved to replenish Jamil’s--only to find the rim completely concealed by the vice dorm leader’s hand. Azul’s lip curled, but he made no move to challenge his classmate.

He agreed a little too easily. They must be up to something else, Jamil concluded, eyeing Azul warily.

“Phew!” Ace gasped, having hammered down another cupful of fruit punch. “Gimme ‘nother round...!”

His words were starting to slur, his eyelids fluttering. A dopey grin had etched itself onto Ace’s face. He was full--full, and loose-lipped.

If it’s not money they’re after, then it must be information.

Jamil’s eyes flashed as the revelation dawned on him. He abruptly stood, yanking Ace’s empty glass away from him.

“I think it is about time that we take our leave,” Jamil announced coldly.

“Noooo, my juice...!!” Ace whined loudly, glancing desperately between his three upperclassmen. “Zuzuuuuu, gimme moooore! I wanna drink moooore!! You can’t just cut me off like thiiiis!”

The entire lounge went dead quiet.

“Zu...”

“... zu?”

Floyd and Jamil exchanged confused looks with one another.

“I... I beg your pardon?!” Azul cried, taking a step back. His expression was twisted with both shock and horror, betraying his beauty. “Wh-What is the meaning of this?! S-Such a juvenile nickname...”

“Zuzu is Zuzuuuu,” Ace insisted, his declaration decorated with hiccups and giggles. “Cuz Zuzu’s cute, and the name Zuzu’s also cute...”

“Take it back right this instant!!”

“Naaaaaaah... Zuzu is Zuzu, and Zuzu’s cute... Das mah story, and I’m stickin’ wif it...”

“... Pfft. Ahahahahahah!” Floyd launched into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. His entire body shook as he violently howled, and he attempted to cradle his stomach to keep from keeling over. “K-Kani-chan got you good, Zuzu!”

“Whose side are you on here, Floyd?!”

“I-I’m on... I’m on--” The eel paused, gulping down a massive breath of air... before immediately bursting out in another peal of laughter. “I’m always on Zuzu’s side...!!”

“FLOYD!!”

“Ahahahahah!!”

“You are NOT helping!!” Azul spat, glaring at his dorm member.

He turned to Jamil, pulling his sweetest smile and most honied voice. “Dearest Jamil-san, seeing as how I cannot rely on Floyd, would you care to assist your peer in his time of need?”

“... I’ll pass,” Jamil replied coolly. A smirk found its way onto his lips. “Surely the great Zuzu-sama can resolve this situation on his own.”

The octopus’s face flared with embarrassment. “I cannot believe that you and Floyd would betray me like this!”

“Well, life is just full of surprises, isn’t it?”

“You...!!”

“Oi, Zuzuuuuu, how much longer do I gotta wait for my puuuunch?”

“Zuzu, don’t keep Kani-chan waiting~”

“Yes, you should dutifully tend to your customer’s demands, Zuzu.”

Azul’s gaze became steely, his mouth forming a straight line. “All of you, out--get out. The Mostro Lounge is closed for the evening!!”

#twst #Azul Ashengrotto #Floyd Leech #Ace Trappola #Jamil Viper #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland imagines #twisted wonderland requests #twisted wonderland headcanons #twisted wonderland scenarios #curiouser and curiouser

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hermionemonica · 4 years

Text

Cause I knew I was in love with you (when we sat in silence): Marichat May 2020 - Day 16

AO3 | For the @marichatmay

Collab with @lalunaoscura

DAY 1 | <-15 | 16 | 17->

Day 16 — Do Not Disturb

Chat Noir perched silently on the next roof, looking at his Princess. She sat on her lounge chair, scrolling on her phone. She looked so engrossed that he bet she wouldn’t even notice if he crept up on her.

The urge was too much. Chat Noir was feeling mischievous tonight. He wanted to hear Marinette squeal in surprise.

This time he grabbed his bell in his hand so that it wouldn’t give him away like the last time. He silently and carefully landed on the Wi-Fi tower. And then with a light thud, he landed just beside her.

Needless to say, Marinette gave a shriek and threw her phone into the air.

Luckily Chat caught the phone before it dropped onto the street.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?” Marinette yelled after she caught her breath.

“Trying to get this exact reaction from you.” A shit-eating grin plastered on his face, he extended the phone towards her.

She grabbed it from his hand and put it inside her pocket. “Well, I hope you're proud of yourself!” Crossing her arms over her chest, she turned away from him.

“Aww, is my Princess mad at me?” He placed both his hands on her shoulders.

Marinette wriggle d out from under his hands. “Yes,” she huffed.

“Please don't be,” Chat mumbled into her ear as he wrapped her in a tight hug from behind. It made Marinette break into a fit of giggles. “See, I made you laugh!” He placed his chin on top of her head.

“You are an idiot.” She relaxed into his chest and sighed. Of course she could not stay mad at him. “Never ever do that again.”

“I can't really promise you that,” Chat teased.

“Well let me rephrase it,” Marinette turned around, grabbed the collar of his suit in both her hands, and tugged to make him bend down. “You do that again, and I will shoo you away with a broom.”

Chat scrunched up his face. “Me-owch!”

“Or maybe a spray bottle.”

“Hey!” He placed his hands on top of hers and removed them from his collar. “That's just brutal!”

“Oh is it?” Marinette cocked her hips to the side. “But I won’t have to do it if you be a good kitty.”

“You do draw a hard bargain, don't you?”

“What can I say, I have been told that I have the makings of a good businesswoman.” Marinette cocked her brows at him.

“Can't deny that, your Highness.” Chat brought her hands to his mouth and placed a light kiss on each of them, earning a giggle from Marinette. “So,” he shifted their position and tucked Marinette under one of his arm s . “What were you doing on your phone?”

“Oh.” Marinette wrapped her arms around his torso. “I was just looking up the latest trends.”

“Did I interrupt anything important?”

“Actually,” he noticed the playful twinkle in her eyes, “I think I am in the mood to kick someone's ass at video games right now.”

“Oh you don't say!” Chat raised his eyebrows in playful shock. “But let me tell you, I have had a lot of practice since the last time we played.”

“Why don't we verify that statement of yours, cat boy?”

“Oh you're on!”

Eight back to back matches later, out of which Chat had won three, he finally decided to give up.

“Well, at least you're getting better.” Marinette smiled at him. It was hard to believe how her demeanour changed when she played. Gamer Marinette was ruthless no comma and knew nothing except winning. But as soon as the match was over, she was his Princess, trying to cheer up her opponent. And strangely, Chat found himself attracted to both these girls.

Marinette stretched her arms and yawned. “Or maybe,” Chat offered, “it's because you are sleepy.”

Marinette smiled and shrugged in a tired way. “Let's go to bed.”

“Yeah.” Chat agreed.

As they lay on the bed, Marinette rolled over on top of Chat’s outstretched hand.

“So, Alya knows.”

Chat was probably expecting this conversation. “Yeah.”

“Is it bad?”

“No no! I mean,” Chat nervously went on, “We just don’t want this to get about, right? And Alya is not the type to tattle. So as long as it’s just her-”

“She’s already told Nino.”

“-and Nino-”

“Nino never hides anything from Adrien.”

Chat suppressed a giggle. “Well Adrien knew anyway.”

“WHAT?!”

“I mean-” He should really start watch ing his mouth before speaking. “Adrien was the one who told me about your nightmares.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell him that you have been spending your nights with me, right?”

“Of course not!”

“Well,” Marinette turned her face away, “he knows now, so it doesn’t make any difference.”

“Hey,” he touched her face and turned it towards him, “Is that bad?”

She did not meet his eye. “I hope he does not get the wrong idea about us.”

“Look at me, Princess.” She obeyed him. “What idea do you want everyone to get about us?”

“That we’re just friends.” She said easily.

“Is that all I mean to you?” For some reason, his voice sounded sad.

“I mean,” she explained, “you are my best friend and I really care for you. I know you do too.” That brought a smile to his face. “But there’s nothing going on between us, right?”

“Right.” The sad edge was still in his voice as he looked away.

“Hey.” Marinette shifted to rest on top of his chest. “Is everything okay?”

Chat nodded silently.

“Are you scared that Hawkmoth may come to know about this settlement between us? Because I can assure you that neither of my friends will tell anyone. Besides,” She sat up and flexed, showing off her toned arms. “Your Princess is a strong girl!”

“Don’t I know that?” Chat said jokingly and in response, Marinette swatted his arm lightly. He wrapped both arms around her and pulled her into the bed with him.

“I will never let anything happen to you, Marinette.” Chat whispered into her hair.

“Mm-hm, me neither.” She replied before drifting off to sleep.

Marinette reached school before Alya the next day. This wasn't the first time something like this had happened though; since Chat Noir had been helping her to sleep better, she was seldomly late to school.

However, she had not expected Alya to storm into the classroom and begin to rattle her bodily.

“Why the hell were you not receiving my calls last night? And not replying to my messages?”

“What?” Marinette kept staring at her best friend in silent confusion for a while. “You called last night?”

“Do I sound like I am kidding?”

She most certainly did not.

Marinette reached into her purse to take out her phone. She had not looked at it since last night.

Twelve missed calls. Two voice messages. Twenty-seven text messages.

All of them from Alya.

Marinette looked up with a guilty expression on her face.

“So what is your excuse?” Alya questioned.

Suddenly her eyes caught something on the notifications bar. She pulled down the quick settings panel.

“Ah,” she exclaimed. For right there she saw, the Do Not Disturb function was enabled.

But how? She did not remember enabling it.

Oh.

She remembered how Chat had scared her last night and she had thrown her phone into the air and then they had both fumbled with it. She had not checked her phone since then.

“It must be when Chat-" she began but abruptly stopped when she looked at Alya's face.

Her expression had changed completely from stern to curious. Now she had this nosey look on her face which could only mean one thing - questions.

“So, Chat Noir visited you again last night, huh?” She asked as she leaned against the back of her seat. “Why was your phone on ‘Do Not Disturb’?” Alya raised an eyebrow at her. “What have you two been really up to?”

Marinette’s cheeks grew alarmingly red , but she did not get an opportunity to reply before Adrien and Nino turned around in their seats.

“What are you girls talking about?” Nino asked the question.

Alya made the let-me-tell-you-a-secret gesture with her hand as she replied, loud enough for Marinette to hear. “Marinette and Chat Noir were doing the nasty last night.”

“Oh my God Alya shut up!” Marinette hid her face in her hands and screeched.

“Wh-what?” Adrien’s brain had short-circuited.

Marinette assumed that the pure model boy was clearly not used to talking about stuff like that, which was why he had that reaction. But that only made her all the more uncomfortable. She really wished Alya had not said things like that in front of Adrien.

“Alya,” she muttered through clenched teeth, “let’s not do this in front of the boys?”

“Oh?” Alya took a quick look at Marinette, who was gesturing towards Adrien with her eyes. “So sunshine,” she vehemently ignored Marinette’s expression of panic as she went on, “what are your thoughts on the situation?”

Adrien suddenly found it very hard to breathe. “Well, just because they are sleeping in the same bed-”

“Woah woah hold up.” Alya leaned forwards. “Who told you about the same bed thing?”

“Uhh, Nino?” Adrien tried.

“No dude, I did not.” Nino flatly said.

“Yes, he would not,” Alya spoke up, “because even I did not mention that to him.”

“Alright fine, I eavesdropped!” That was his last, most desperate attempt.

“Woah, M,” Nino looked at Marinette. “You’re making me regret ever supporting you!”

“Oh no,” Marinette slammed her face into the desk. “Please let me die.”

“No no Marinette!” Adrien almost turned around in his seat. “I meant to say you and Chat Noir are clearly not doing anything!”

“And how are you so sure?” Alya narrowed her eyes at him.

��Because Marinette is a pure, sweet girl who would never do something irresponsible like that!” Adrien burst out. “She is smart and wise and she always knows what the right thing to do is! And I can never imagine her doing something like that!” He said all of it in one single breath.

“Dude,” Nino offered, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I-” he stood up, “I just need to go to the bathroom.”

Adrien left in a hurry. He walked quickly towards the bathroom. Once there, he slumped against the wall outside the bathroom, trying to catch his breath.

“Hey.”

He whipped around only to lock eyes with a very familiar set of blue.

“Marinette? What are you doing here?”

“I-uh,” she averted her gaze, “I just came here to thank you. For standing up for me back there.”

“Oh.”

“Did you-” she sounded really nervous, “did you really mean all those things you said about me?”

“I do, Pri-Marinette,” he stopped himself just in time. Luckily, Marinette did not catch on. “I think you are one of the most amazing girls I have ever known.”

“Uh, thanks really.” Marinette blushed lightly at the compliments.

“Hey, let me know if Chat Noir ever tries to take advantage of you or anything! I’m always up for kicking some superhero butt,” he joked.

“No!” Adrien saw a flicker of a rare passion in her eyes as her brows furrowed up, “Chat Noir will never do anything like that! He is my friend!”

“Hey,” Adrien took a step forward and placed a hand on her shoulder, “I was only kidding!”

“Yeah,” she chuckled nervously, “I’m sorry for snapping at you.”

“It’s alright . ” Adrien smiled warmly. “Now let’s get back to class?”

“Right.”

#miraculous ladybug #marichatmay2020 #day 16: do not disturb #collaboration #lalunaoscura #marichat #ml fanfic #my fic #cause i knew i was in love with you (when we sat in silence)

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