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clarissalance · 3 years

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A sneak peck on the corner of your lips

Pairing: Xingqiu x G/N!reader, Chongyun, mention of Xiangling and Liyue trio

Warning: a peck, hugging, reader and Xingqiu are the same age

Word count: 3943

Summary: You are going on a ghost-hunting trip with Chongyun and Xingqiu to Mingyun village.

A/N: Last time I said I’m going to write shorter fic, well, my fingers accidentally slip and tada, here it is. I feel like this Xingqiu is a little bit too shy compare to the game but I want to make him blush (or any character in general). This one takes me quite a long time to write but I hope you all enjoy it. Maybe I should write Venti next, I totally forgot his birthday until my feed was flooded with his fanart. I’m sorry Bartobas ;-; Anyhow, please shower Xingqiu with a lot of love!! He’s the reason why I can pass abyss floor 11.

Picture credit: Pinterest. ( I really don’t know the author of this picture. If you find the source, please comment so I can add. Thank you (❁´◡`❁) )

Hanging out with the Liyuen trio has always been an adventure full of thrill and excitement. Usually, there would be someone who ends up with all troubles and mischiefs the other two sets up. Chongyun is our center, holding a strike 10 times in a row, while Xiangling sometimes gets bombed by them, but it’s nothing compared to our popsicle boy. Xingqiu, you have never heard of him getting into any troubles, but he has been the famous one in the town for plotting pranks and tricks. The victim is Chongyun, and he’s somehow still very oblivious, despite many times falling into the holes.

Maybe the boy is just too naïve and trusting for his own good.

“ Xiangling is not coming today. ” Xingqiu announces, successful getting your attention and Chongyun’s. “She’s busy with the restaurant, so today, there will be only three of us.” Letting out a commital sound, you return your focus back onto the unfinished charm on your hand, fingers skillfully waving through the strings.

“ Guess we’re off to Mingyun then.” Chongyun stands up abruptly from his seat, the sound of clothes rustling together. “I got a reliable intel this time about a ghost there.”

Glance up from the unfinished charm, you shoot a questioning look to Xingqiu, to which he sends you a wink and a charming smile. The source of ‘reliable intel’ Chongyun is telling you here definitely comes from Xingqiu. Somehow, the boy has managed to stay away from the Chongyun’s suspicion list, even after those obvious unrealistic intel disguise as pranks. You wonder how has he manage to deceive the poor exorcist this time.

“Chongyun, there are only hilichurls in Mingyun village. No one is there.” You state the obvious. How can he fall for this so many times? The light blue hair boy turns at you and tilts his head in confusion, waiting for you to anticipate more details. He is really dense, isn’t he?

“ So, how did you get intel about a spirit at the place if there is no one lives there?” Letting out a huff, you fold your arm, feet tapping impatiently.

“ Someone sends me the request this morning.” He pulls out a white envelope in his pocket and hands it to you, smiling a bit enthusiastically. The envelope has no trace that indicates sender, yet the exorcist assures you it’s a reliable source. You have no idea what his standard of ‘reliable' is anymore.

Inside the envelope is an expensive-looking card, the curving and neat writing dances on the piece. Bringing the paper closer, you can faintly make out the scent of floral perfume mingles with the fresh wooden smell of crisp paper. “By the look, this looks more like a love letter than a request of exorcism to me. You’re sure it’s not from one of the maidens?” A little further away, you can hear the sound of someone choking on breath and a muffled laugh. Chongyun then mutters something about no one would send him a love letter anyway. Oh, so he doesn’t know then. Did this boy live under a rock or something?

This is too well-crafted for a mere prank. Did Xingqiu handwriting improve this much over the past month? Eyeing the blue boy suspiciously, you carefully watch his interaction with the young exorcist while reading the content.

This letter is pretty legit, but you’re still very suspicious of a certain someone over there who meticulously crafts this. If you ask, will he answer truthfully or skit around the subject again?

Putting the card back into the envelop and return them to Chongyun, you finally raise your hand in defeat. Coming with them might be a better solution, in case the exorcist condition gets out of control, you can help Xingqiu carry him back.

“Fine, let’s see the spirit ourselves then.” You stand up, hand dusting your clothes. “ If we’re lucky enough, we might be able to see the adepti on the mountain before catching the ghost.” Shrugging, you beam brightly at the shoulder-shaking Xingqiu and the scratching-head Chongyun. You can already guess what will happen in the village after so many times witnessing Xingqiu’s prank. Is this what we called… experiences?

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Mingyun village is located on a mountain and surrounded by many dried up ores mines, which result in people leaving their homes and moves to the Chasm and Harbor. As your group slowly trek to the written address, you notice an unusually high activity of hilichurls. It’s common for them to move to an abandoned village but isn’t this a little too much? From broken bridge connect the Guili Plain, there are many groups clustering, wandering among themselves. Even Chongyun tries to avoid them, not jumping on their head as usual.

Imagine fighting this many hilichurls, you don’t think your group can make it back to the harbour in one piece. Padding quietly, you walk faster toward Xingqiu, hoping to stick close to him. At least if fighting is bounded to happen, he can protect you. The young master still keeps his unfazed face, following Chongyun while eyes glued on his book. You remember he already finished reading this book?

“ Psstt.” You whisper. “ Are you sure we’re heading the right way? That direction is crowded with monsters.” From here, they can barely see the beast but you can sense an abundant amount over there.

“ It’s this way. It’s marked on the map.” Chongyun answers, eyestrain on a piece of paper, which results in his misstep and tripping. Behind, Xingqiu looks up and worriedly calls out to be careful. You trust Chongyun map-reading skill, but right now, you’re very concerned about his navigation. How can he navigating if he does not even look at the road?

As the scorching sun blazing down the heat, big droplets of sweat dripping down your forehead, and your shirt starts to stick on your skin. Ah, you forgot summer has arrived. The path is sun-drenched, not a single shade can be found. The sweltering heat in this village is almost unbearable, despite the area is borderline with Dragonspine. How can not a single breeze from Dragonspine drift to this area?

As you lazily following the group, your mind starts going into vacation mode. You imagine staying under the shade, enjoy the cool breeze and munching ice cream. The village is quite close to Yaoguang Shoal, maybe you can convince the guys to head down there after they finish their task. In this weather, dipping your feet in the cold water while enjoying popsicles are the best. Stealing some from Chongyun might not be that bad.

Next to you, the Chongyun and Xingqiu are not affected as much as you, maybe because they carry visions? You wonder how their visions help them to cool down?

“ Xingqiu.” You call, hand fanning your face. The boy looks up from his book, humming, unfazed by the boiling weather. Is he not feeling hot at all? Under all of those long sleeve shirt?

“Can we hold hand?”

As soon as the question leaves your mouth, some things don’t feel right. Did you phrase it, a little bit weird?

The cerulean-haired boy chokes on his saliva, eyes widen in surprise, almost drop his precious rare novel. You think you definitely phrase it wrong.

“ Are you okay?” Chongyun turns back abruptly after noticing the coughing sound, his blue eyes filled with worries.

Xingqiu shakes his head and waves his hand, motioning the exorcist to turns back to his map. After a few second of heaving, he finally returns back to normal, shooting you stinky eyes and put his book away. It’s not your fault that he chokes on his own saliva. He chokes it by himself.

“Why would you want… to hold my hand?” Xingqiu questions, cringing at his cracking voice.

“Don’t you feel hot under this weather?” You point your finger at the sky, bright rays hitting your face. Xingqiu nods in confusion, still not understand how your request related to this question.

“If we hold hand, maybe you can share with me some of your coolness.”

Xingqiu stares owlishly at you, and you elaborate more on how the pyro transfers heat through physical touch, and maybe, hydro has a similar mechanism.

As you explain, you notice how his shoulders shaking, while his face remains perfectly calm, except for the betraying light curve on his mouth. Is he trying to contain his smile?

Finally, Xingqiu folds in half and blurts out in laughter, tears forming at the corner of his eyes. In between his howling, the boy breathlessly explains how you misunderstand the elements and visions aren't used for this situation.

Potato, potato, you don’t believe the mischievous vision-holder over there has never tried using his vision for different purposes other than fighting.

Your face burns up, you’re not sure if it’s because of the burning sun, or the embarrassment caused by the hydro user over there. Pouting, you turn away from him, stomping toward Chongyun direction instead.

Hmph, if Xingqiu isn’t going to help you to cool down, then you’d have to ask the exorcist. Somehow, you already know the man is going to hesitate because it might disturb his congenital condition. Well, you’re just going to bribe him with two or three popsicles when you are coming back to the harbour. Nothing a little money can’t fix. And maybe a lot of persuasions too.

As soon as you make your mind, you rush toward Chongyun, calling out for the cryo user. The exorcist is a distance away from you both, and he doesn’t turn back even when you call out for him. Does this mean he didn’t hear the conversation between you and Xingqiu?

Casually skipping toward Chongyun, you call for him again-

“Chongyun, can I... ” before, suddenly hands from behind wrap around your neck, pull you into a wall of meat. You wince at the hard collision with the chest, sensation of callous fingers on your shoulder bring your longing desired: Coolness. Surprised by the sudden touch, you shoot your eyes wide open and crane your neck behind, immediately meet with a sly amber orb.

What is he doing?

Followed by your call, Chongyun curiously turns back and his gentle light blue eyes unwavering. He doesn’t seem to be surprised at this scene.

Does Xingqiu always this touchy?

The young exorcist raises his brows at you but behind, Xingqiu waves his hand dismissive, successfully driving the young boy away, even before you can form your word.

You see the exorcist shrugs and turns his attention back on the piece of paper, heading deeper into the abandoned village, distance between the cryo users and you two starts to grow.

You gawk shockingly into his small figure starts to get smaller, mouth gapes open slightly.

Did Chongyun just leave you behind? What kind of cold-heart friend is he? He definitely saw you are being held back by Xingqiu, right?

Behind, you hear Xingqiu mumbles something about Chongyun being ‘unbelievable’, ‘workaholic’ and ‘careless friend’. Shouldn’t you be the one who says that?

All of a sudden, you realize your back touching his chest, his hands wrap around you from behind. From here, you can smell the faint vanilla and a mix of woody, musk scent.

He reminds you of old books, the feeling of immersing yourself in a dusty library.

Blood rushing to your face, and the first thing that comes to your mind is to escape from his hold. The hydro user somehow able to read your mind, his grip tightens, holding you close.

In an intimate position, with you both fall in silence, your senses suddenly heighten. Even separated by layers of clothes, you can still feel the heat from Xingqiu. The rapid beat of your heart thumping in your rib cage, the coolness from his palm seeping slowly into your skin.

Somehow his touch doesn’t cool you but heating you up more, your body slowly burns up like a furnace. “ C-can you let me go ?” You stutter, squirming helplessly inside the young hydro user, avoiding his teasing gaze.

“ You asked me to touch you, so I comply with my liege's request.”

“ I didn't ask you to touch me.” You quip back at the shameless hydro user, body twisting weakly inside his hold, the sound of clothes rustling. How come you both learn martial arts, yet your strength is nothing compared to him?

“ This is not holding a hand.” You point out at his long arms wrap just under your neck, sulky. “ And stop hugging me. It’s burning in here.”

Xingqiu gives you a grin, amber orbs shoot you a questioning gaze. Well, it’s not true. His long-sleeved are rolled up, exposing the long slender arms, now is pressing on the thin layer of fabric, resonating with coolness. It feels like hydro is running under the vein of his arm. His fingers wrap on your shoulder, constantly transferring the calming sensation of flowing water.

“Isn’t this position more efficient than holding hand?” The hydro lazily rests his face on your shoulder, smirking devilishly. You have to admit this is much cooler than holding a hand, but this is too intimate. Flustered by his alluring gaze, you turn your head away, feet start moving toward the exorcist direction.

“W-we sh-ould catching up with Chongyun, he’s quite far away.” Stammering like a mess, you point your finger at the general direction where the exorcist was heading, the image of a light blue boy is getting smaller, slowly mending into the heat under the scorching furnace resting on your head. A chuckle is followed, but Xingqiu doesn’t say anything else, hands still wrap loosely around you, trailing steps after you.

You are too naïve to think that walking fast will break his hold. The young master of Feiyun Commerce Guild has proved your effort is futile. He effortlessly adjusts to your pace even when you purposefully try to quicken your step or stop abruptly. He doesn’t faze by your antic, instead, leaning close to your ear and blow hot air into your ears teasingly, knowing well how flustered you are.

From here, you can see Chongyun still having his eyes glued on the piece of paper, still not noticing his companions drift far behind him. Indeed he is careless, maybe you two should keep a close distance to protect him.

“ Are you getting cooler?” Xingqiu suddenly leans close, his face just a few inches away from yours.

You hold your breath in silence, heart almost drops at his close proximation. Can he not scare you like that? “ It's getting cooler.” As much as you tempted to elbow the hydro user away, you know how hot it will be without having his arms wrap around you, so you easily give in.

The two of you keep a decent pace while the boy wraps his hand around you, clinging like a koala. Look around, you realize this place is mostly dry trees somehow manage to root in the barren soil, broken wagons and holed baskets lying around in this place. Luckily, this area has much fewer hilichurls compares to the entrance of the village. Look like they’re also trying to find a shade in this weather. This place is closed to Dragonspine, and you still have no idea how the land doesn’t receive a single cool breeze from the frosted city.

“Why did you pull me back earlier?” Hesitantly, you ask him.

Xingqiu let out a confusing sound, not registering your question. Should you elaborate some more?

“When I was calling out to Chongyun.” You quickly add, trying to keep your voice steady and casual.

“ Oh, that.” He hums, his arms tighten around you. Why did he even hold you closer than before? You didn’t try to pry off his hug, why all of a sudden?

“ Because… you were… about to ask Chongyun to h-hold your hand right?” Freeze at his words, you twist your neck, curious at the face he is making right now. It’s rare for him to sound this uncertain about something. As a second son of the Guild Manager of one of the biggest trading guild in Liyue, the young man has been trained to speak with perfection. Every word coming from this young man is carefully formulated and spoken with utmost confidence.

As you face him, the young man furrows his brows, amber eyes fill with hesitant and worried. Why is he acting like this? A sudden wave of guilt washing your stomach, uneasiness slowly sinks deep into your skin.

You… are not supposed to call out for Chongyun?

“ B-but you laugh at me when I explain about the coolness exchange?” Tilting your head in confusion, you can’t help to not follow the hydro user thoughts. He refused you first, wasn't he? It should be normal for you to find Chongyun instead. The exorcist will probably agree to anything as long as he can help. “Wouldn’t it make more sense if I go to find Chongyun instead?”

“And holding hand with Chongyun? Archon, no!” Your skin jumps as Xingqiu raises his voice, and you have no idea what tickles him. Why fuzzing over something so trivial like this?

“ We always hold hands. There’s nothing wrong with it.” You can’t help to shoot back. “ You also hold his hand too.”

“N-no, our holding hand is different.” He can weakly defend, trying to rack his brain out to think of a time when they hold hands. He gives up soon afterwards. “Besides, you shouldn’t be holding hands with anyone.”

“ For your information, this is much more scandalous than holding hand.” You meekly point out, finger poking on his arm bares smooth skin. Twist back, you lean in closer, eyes crinkle into the shape of crescent moons. “And what’s wrong with us kids holding hand?”

Xingqiu can’t help but let out a defeated sigh, face drops down your shoulder and sulky buries his face in the crook of your neck. His hot breaths tickle the sensitive skin, cerulean locks brushing your cheek. Under his breath, you can barely make out his muffle word, saying something about don’t understand.

You slowly trek toward Chongyun’s direction, humming along with familiar tunes. Sudden changes from Chongyun and Xingqiu have no longer made you felt lonely or sadden. Boys at this age are unusual. They aren’t being closed with you as before, no longer inching close to you or hugging you from behind. They are more cautious when being close with you, more mindful when your fingers accidentally graze their.

If you ask them directly, will they answer you why they're acting like a married woman, always jumping every time you innate skinship?

You have a feeling they probably won't answer that.

“ /N… Y/N! ”

Abruptly, you raise your head, forehead almost hitting with Xingqiu’s. Your face is a breath away from his, so close that you can see his long lashes fluttering like a butterfly, shying away from the captivating eyes. His porcelain skin is smooth and flawless, a sudden urge tells you to caress it. A blush slowly creeping up his cheek, and finally, the hydro user shies away, staring at the road.

Xingqiu clears his throat. “ I was talking to you. You were spacing out again?” You can only offer him a sheepish smile.

“ S-sorry, I was thinking about something.”

Xingqiu looks up and stares at your face intently like he is trying to make his way into your maze-like mind. You shift away from his fierce gaze, but the hydro user is faster. His fingers easily catch your face, your cheeks fit perfectly into his cool smooth palm. Xingqiu lets out an amusing chuckle, fingers squishing your cheek playfully like a stress-reliever.

You feel like he has you wrapped around his little finger, literally.

“I don’t know what you were thinking, but whatever it is, it’s incorrect.” Despite the mean fingers toying your cheek, his voice is awfully soft and reassuring. Is he trying to comfort you? Carefully, you gloss your eyes over to his direction, observing the mischievous feature on his face slowly melts into a soft and mellow.

Before you can enjoy the rare gentle side of his, the amber eyes slowly gleam with playfulness, and he leans closer, only stops when your face is just a breath away. His hot breath fanning on your cheek, tickling. He is so close to you, so close that if you tilt your head, our lips will meet.

“ A moment ago, I said that you shouldn’t let any male hold your hand right?” His voice drops low, golden orb flickers like a torch. What is he planning again? You carefully nod.

He isn’t going to… bite you right?

“ You see, holding hand...” The young man chuckles slyly, the arm was wrapped around your neck makes the way down and nudges into your hand, fingers interlocking. " can easily drifting to this." You turn back fully to face him, the other hand still glazes your cheek.

“ They can easily slip their arm around you into a hug…” Slowly, the coolness in your palm slips away and snakes around your shoulder. “Then, they can…” Xingqiu’s grip on your cheek slowly relaxes, fingers slowly inch down on your neck.

Take a big gulp of saliva, you can only widen your eyes, nervously follow at the tracing fingers of his. His long digits don’t stop after wandering around your neck, they slowly creep up, follow your jaw, and then cup on your cheek. The cooling sensation you craved a moment ago now feels like frost nipping on your skin. Heart thumping loudly in the rib cage, you unconsciously hold your breath, waiting for his next move.

In the comfortable silence, his thump delicately brushes your cheek, caressing the sensitive skin. You notice his touch is loving and delicate, it makes you want to snuggle your face into his palm, enjoying this lasting moment.

“…then what?” You open your mouth impatiently, voice light and mushy.

A light pinkish blush quickly dusts on his cheek, you feel the man in front of you tenses up, but he remains his eye contact with you, refuses to avoid your gaze. His lips quiver but nothing coming out. Is he… hesitating? Finally, you hear him mumbles something quietly.

…you

“ What ?” You cock your brows and inch closer, eyes training on his plump lip. They remain still.

Feeling an intense gaze on your head, you feel a light squeeze on your cheek so you curiously tilt your chin up, just to see Xingqiu leans down and presses a light peck at the corner of your mouth.

His plump lips brush yours like a feather, almost non-touching. It’s soft and plush, but the moment only lasts for a few second. Abruptly, the coolness on your cheek leaves hastily, follows by his sleeveless arm around your shoulder.

As soon as you realize what just happened, the young master of Feiyun Commerce Guild has already dashed away, leaving a burning tomato behind. You shyly lower your head, face heats up profusely. Fingers slowly draw up to your lip, you recall the feeling of his lip touching yours.

You feel like you can combust right here and right now.

Unknownst to you, if you look in his direction, you might have spotted a pair of red ears and his inelegant falling on his butt.

#xingqiu #genshin xingqiu #genshin impact #xingqiu x reader #chongyun #xiangling #kiss #clarissalance #a peck #fluff #friend to lovers #best friend to lovers #genshin impact x reader

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pa-panda-heroes · 3 years

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Gimmie (a man after midnight)

Dabi x Female!Reader [NSFW] Songfic

Song: Abba - Gimmie! Gimmie! Gimmie!

Aha, I had a lot of fun writing this but it’s not quite what i envisioned, so I hope it turned out okay! :’>

Minors, DNI! Go. Away.

Warnings: alcohol, hookups, slight degradation, choking—Dabi’s belt, anyone? ;), unprotected sex, vaginal penetration, spanking, fairly rough sex ig?

Words: 2,739

Half past twelve And I’m watching the late show in my flat all alone How I hate to spend the evening on my own

You groaned, sprawled out across your sofa and terribly bored. You worked your ass off all week just to go out and have some fun with your girls over the weekend. But alas, they canceled on you, saying they were “busy” doing “adult things” and having “responsibilities.” Bleh! What the hell! You even text a few others not initially involved in your plans, but they let you down, too. That was fair, though. Your invitation was definitely last minute, so you couldn’t blame anyone.

Your eyes dart to the clock. It was still pretty early in the night, half past midnight. Your eyes narrow. You’re an adult, you’re fully capable of going out on your own, right? You wouldn’t look like a poor soul with no friends... right? Fuck it. You’ll leave your apartment all alone and gloomy, but who’s to say you won’t come back not alone?

You bolt off the couch so quickly you nearly lose yourself and slam into the floor, but you recover and make a run for your closet. You had your outfit planned out three days ago, so the agony of looking for what to wear and trying on who knows how many outfits and discerning what paired with what was already over with. You dress quickly and throw on your preferred method of makeup before doing your hair as you pleased for the occasion. You hum at yourself in your success and head out, heading to your previously chosen club.

Autumn winds Blowing outside my window as I look around the room And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom

As soon as you walk in, the air is dense and brimming with smoke and moisture. It’s darker than you expected, although the neon purple, blue, and red lights flashing all around you stood out more this way, looking more pleasing to the eye as a result. The music thrums loudly in your ears, the bass kicked up nearly to a teeth-chattering degree. The violin you could hear through it all sounded intense and emotional, the entirety of the song upbeat and fast and so adrenaline-inducing for your current emotional state.

The mixture that was your boredom and gloom followed you as though it were your shadow itself, trailing behind you with every intention to lunge out and strangle you as you passed through dancing and grinding bodies. One couple was more than happy to let you join between them. For a smooth, lascivious moment you did, letting the male stranger grab onto your waist and grind against you, his (apparent) girlfriend following suit at your front, but you decided alcohol would be a good start first.

There's not a soul out there No one to hear my prayer

Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie a man after midnight

On your way to the bar you just happen to glance through the crowd and meet the gaze of mesmerizing turquoise hues, captivating eyes which stood out like iridescent glimmers in a sea of pitch black after the sun hid itself away. Your step slows as you hold your gaze firm, your own smirk a clear contrast to the stoic features of his own. Bland and non-contorted as his face may be, you tell by the dark, predatory glimmer to his eyes that you’ve caught his attention.

Your favourite drink is ordered and fully downed in no time before you slither back into the cluster of sweat and saliva in favour of dancing your worries away.

Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away Gimmie, gimmie, gimmie a man after midnight

You bounce and move your hips with the music all by your little lonesome in the crowd, others in a situation similar to yours. Try and find those turquoise masters of your captivation as you might, the fiery enigma you saw earlier was nowhere to be seen.

You bite your lip and pout as you carry on your merry way. What a bore you think this night has ungraciously become, your hopes of finding a good time dwindling away like dust in the wind! You almost consider going back to your previous “dance buddies,” but before you can even stop dancing, hands slither onto your hips and torrid breath teases your ear.

“Lookin’ for me, doll?” you hear a smoky, smooth voice purr, and immediately you’re weak in the knees.

You jut your ass out against him, closing the already bare-minimum space between the two of you, courtesy of the stranger himself. “You tell me,” you tease, grinding against him and realizing he’s wearing a massive belt, and your mouth waters. “I’m just lookin’ for a good time.”

Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

A chuckle erupts from behind you, slow and sure, one of the hands on your hip slithering up your waist to ghost over your tit. “I think you’ve found it,” he whispers to you, a call for sex and detachment as his hand - much larger, lither, and bonier than you anticipated - roams your chest freely. He’s careful not to catch the staples holding together the flesh of his hand catch on your clothes where applicable.

It’s clear he’s not playing around, though it doesn’t matter, because neither are you.

You giggle and reach back around for his hair as he moves in sexual tandem with you, while your fingers glissade through strands of pure abyssal silk and latch on. “Do tell,” you taunt, grinding particularly slowly against him and trying to reach for his thigh with your free hand. You can’t help the bratty smirk that parts your lips.

“Here? Really?” he asks, though it’s clearly rhetorical. “You want other people to hear me tell you how I’m gonna pin you against a wall and fuck that tight pussy ‘til you can’t walk, do you?” His voice is deep and low, haunting, and appearances be damned. You’d fuck him just to hear his voice alone.

A shiver wracks your body, much to his pleasure.

Movie stars Find the end of the rainbow with a fortune to win It's so different from the world I'm living in

The stranger’s hand dips down and finds its way up your skirt, giving your asscheek a tight squeeze. “Wonder what they’d say if they heard me tell you I’m gonna wrap my belt around that pretty little neck so tight, I won’t even have to touch you to make you cum.”

“Oh, fuck.” The hiss that comes out of you is laced with a clear moan, and you bite your lip, the growing wetness devouring your lacy panties making itself fully known to you when your cunt clenches around nothing. “Hey, you got a name, stranger?” you breathe, resisting the urge to clench your teeth when his lips find your neck.

“Just Dabi,” you hear him mumble into your skin.

Oh, like the Dabi? The villain Dabi? The Dabi who could very well burn the place to the ground in a matter of minutes and laugh it off like he saw some corny joke graffiti’d on a sleazy bathroom stall?

Oh. Well, alright then. You’re not bothered by it. Seems like he actually just wanted a good fuck and who were you to blame him for it?

Tired of TV I open the window and I gaze into the night But there's nothing there to see no one in sight

“I’m y/n, but feel free to call me whatever the fuck you want.” You sigh, leaning back against him.

Dabi chuckles at you, finding what comes off as a willingness to please quite delicious, if he were being honest. “Let’s head out, then.”

“Patience is not your virtue, is it, Dabi?” you jive at him, the clear pinch on your ass telling you the comment was not appreciated. You giggle at that. “Alright, follow me?”

You grab his hand and drag him through the other patrons, walking by a particularly heated makeout session on the way out. You’re pretty certain the exit you take is supposed to be an emergency exit, but you don’t much care, and it’s not like going through the door set any alarms off or anything.

As soon as you’re out into the cold air he spins you around, quite aggressively stealing away your lips in a loveless kiss and feeling you up like his life depends on it. Your squeak is swallowed right up and you latch onto the lapels of his jacket. It’s now you realise his upper lip is too soft to even be legal, the scarred and marred lower lip, held together by hot staples, is so rough and hot. Fuck, what you wouldn’t do to feel the conflicting textures between your legs.

There's not a soul out there

Your tongue toys with his - rather, your tongue is toyed with - as his hips grind against your pelvis, the clear outline of his hard cock prominent against your clothed cunt, bringing you enough friction to moan unabashedly into his mouth. Dabi’s hand grabs onto of your hair and tugs your head back to break your lip lock with him so that he could plant hot, slow open-mouthed kisses and sucks all along your neck. Oh, the hickeys you’d have to cover up for work.

You sigh and bite your lip. Ignoring the hard concrete clawing away at your back while you fumble with unclasping his belt (you hoped his talk from earlier was bite and not bark), you try to free his dick from its denim confines, only for your hands to be swatted away.

“Hey,” he growls at you. “I didn’t say you could do that.”

“Who said I needed permission?” you sass, egging him on. Oh, you should’ve known better. Your mouth always got you in trouble no matter what aspect of life.

No one to hear my prayer

You hear him click his tongue at you before he spins you again, this time shoving the front of your body against the wall. One of his hands grabs the belt do your skirt and yanks your ass toward him, the other hand pushing forcefully at your neck, your cheek against whatever building lies in front of you. “Who said you could do whatever the fuck you want, brat?” Dabi snarls at you, and you gulp. The villain is quick to unfasten his belt and unzip his jeans to let his cock spring free, before your skirt is thrown over your hips to expose your favourite lacy panties, and Dabi lets out a low whistle, pulling them to the side and exposing your dripping cunt to him. “Not bad, y/n.”

Biting back sass, you instead jut your ass out against him.

“And you said I was impatient,” Dabi goads. “Here you are, drooling and ready for me to fuck you into next week, eh?”

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away

Your resistance dies as you try to glare at him. “Shut your trap and fuck me already!” you hiss. “...or are you all bark and no bite, Dabi?”

A hard slap smacks into your asscheek and you yelp, though the soft kneading of the flesh pulls a whine out of you.

“Keep this up and you won’t cum, doll.”

“Hey-“

Dabi plunged his cock into you without warning, sheathing himself straight to the hilt in one push of his hips, and you gasp, not having the opportunity to adjust to his size or the piercings adorning his dick.

“Dabi, fuuuck.” Your fingernails claw at the concrete, sure to scratch them up and end up in plenty of tears down the line, but you don’t care. The barbells of his piercings and the utter girth of his cock fill you up so full you almost feel like you’re going to split in half. “So big...!”

“Real fuckin’ wet for me, aren’t you?” Dabi slowly draws his hips back and quickly fucks into you again, drawing a gasp from you as he then sets a steady pace thrusting into you. “And tight-“

You keen as his hips piston into yours repeatedly, one of his hands firmly grasping your hip enough to leave bruises, and you hear an unknown metal jingling about, though you realise exactly what he’s done when you feel tough, cool leather wrap around your throat. Your cunt clenches at the implication his belt brings. Dabi is quick to notice and leans down toward your ear to utter a single, gravelly word: “Slut.” He thrusts into you especially hard and fast as if to prove his point, and you cry out when he hits that spongey spot, your throat dry. You can hear the lewd squelching and erotic song of skin slapping against skin.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

The belt tightens around your neck so much that it deprives of you enough oxygen to reach utter bliss as he pounds into your cunt, your cheek getting scraped up from the friction of the concrete wall. Any attempt you make at saying anything amounts to nothing as you begin to feel lightheaded and filled with pure ecstasy, your eyes trying to roll back into your head and drool creeping out the corner of your mouth.

A choked gasp comes out of you when his hand smacks at your ass cheek again, then again, then again, slow kneading of the flesh following thereafter and lulling the sting away. You moan loudly at his ministrations, nearing the height of bliss. “What, are you a painslut, too?” he jabs, though you can’t respond, and so he does it again, coaxing a cry of pleasure and pain out of you and tears into your eyelids, threatening to overflow and stain your cheeks. Another slap has you cumming on his clock with little warning, Dabi’s groan behind you mixing with your mewls and squeals. “Fuck!” you hear him curse, and he doesn’t stop fucking your poor pussy even after you came down, throwing you into a state of whiny oversensitivity.

“Too mu-uuch!” is all you can manage through the hazy fog of bliss.

Dabi doesn’t seem to care and keeps pounding into you anyway, though he does go for a change in scenery as he pulls you upright by tugging back on the belt around your neck, pulling your back to his chest and giving him room to slip his hands to your cunt. You cry out and squirm when his digits begin rubbing fast circles on your clit, your fingers instinctively flying toward the belt and clawing at the leather as you gasp and keen away. Squirm and wiggle as you want, he holds you tight. Tears run down your cheeks and pressure in your abdomen builds, threatening to break away like a damn and letting the flood crash through. You cry out his name, though it only seems to egg him on and he pounds into you faster, fingers still abusing your puffy clit. Head foggy and mind hazy, you orgasm again already, and your cunt squeezes his cock again, clenching repeatedly as if to milk him for all he’s worth and coating him in your juices.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away

Dabi lets out a string of curses and loses the rhythm of his hips, his grunts fucking music to your ears. Begs and pleas filter out of you for no apparent reason as his hips keep slapping against yours, your sobs and moans filling the alleyway and reverberating off the walls.

“Fuck! Shit, shit, shit!”

Your clenching cunt hugging onto him like it does sends Dabi over the edge, and he cums inside of you, milky hot cum coating your fleshy walls, eliciting a blissed-out sigh from you as he finally stops fucking into you.

The pressure on your neck is alleviated and you fall back against him, legs weak and head spinning. Dabi nuzzles your ear with his nose, one hand still cupping your pussy and the other gripping your tit.

“Whaddya say we head back to my place, y/n?” he croons.

Gimme, gimme, gimme a man after midnight Take me through the darkness to the break of the day

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi x reader smut #dabi smut #mha x reader smut #bnha x reader smut #mha smut #bnha smut #todoroki touya #todoroki touya x reader

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fa-headhoncho · 3 years

Text

Crucio

Eventual George Weasley x Reader

Prompt: Sixth year starts off with a new professor

Word Count: 1833

Reader: Female

Warning: I’m back?

Masterlist Series Masterlist

=====

The class goes silent as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher walks into the room. You’ve heard stories from your father about Alastor Moody, one of the most famous Aurors of all time. He killed and captured Death Eaters and sent them to Azkaban. He’s been retired for years but you’re sure his skills are still up to par.

“... I’m sure some of you have heard of me.” Professor Moody says as if he’s reading your mind. “When it comes to the Dark Arts, I prefer a practical approach to the teaching,” He takes a once-over of the room, taking in all of his students' faces. He stops when he lands on you.

You feel his eyes burning into your soul but you don’t break eye contact. George shifts awkwardly beside you, not understanding what’s going on. You know Moody has a history with your father, you’ve heard all the stories relating to your dad’s involvement with the Dark Arts. At this point, you believe them all.

The professor takes his eyes off you then turns to the chalkboard behind him, “We will be reviewing some material, as I do believe it is important as of now.” He starts writing in messy script, “Now who can tell me how many Unforgivable Curses there are?”

No one raises their hand, too scared to answer. The recent events of the World Cup were still fresh in everyone’s minds and no one wanted to take the jump. He side-eyes the class, waiting for a response.

“Did none of yous learn this or what?” You didn’t, before Moody was here, sixth years were supposed to start learning it but he seems to have changed the curriculum… just like every other teacher in years past.

“Three, Professor.” You speak up. Over the years, you started to research DADA subjects since the teachers never seemed to know what they were doing. The only break you got was last year with Professor Lupin but it was short-lived. “They are deemed unforgivable because of the effects of the curses and if performed on a human, you will be sent to Azkaban.”

There was a tense silence building as he jots down the information, the chalk scraping against the board echoed throughout the classroom. He finally turns around, one eye landing on you as the other scans the class.

George watches as you straighten your back and your expression becomes stone cold. It was obvious that the mad man recognized you and thought it was necessary to keep watch on you. It was frustrating, to say the least. Every year you had to put up this facade, trying to prove yourself to every new professor that walks down those cursed stairs.

It makes George frown, he wishes you could take one moment to relax. He has to hold himself back from reaching out and rubbing comforting circles on your back. The ginger lets out a sigh, resting back in his chair and slinging an arm on the back of yours. He lets his mind wander as Moody continues with the lesson, getting into the history of the curses.

Slyly, he starts drawing little designs on your back to try to release some of the tension built up in your shoulders. A little smile appears on his face as it works.

The whole class watches Moody walk across the class, grabbing a box and moving to the table in front of all his students. He then dramatically slams the box causing a few students to flinch in their seats. George’s daze is broken and his hand flies back to his side noticing his glass eye was on the two of you again.

A sick smirk appears on the Auror’s face as the other eye slowly follows. “Miss Malfoy, would you move to the front of the class?” He commands and your heart drops to your ass.

George and you share a look before you stand up. All eyes were on you as you walk down the aisle. Fred and Lee catch your eye and give you an encouraging smile making you grip your wand even harder.

Once you reach his demonstration table, he gestures you to face the class. You feel your hands start to sweat and your heartbeat pick up.

Moody takes notice of your nervousness and directs everyone’s attention to the box, sliding it open to reveal what’s inside. Some cringe as the spider crawls out of its wooden cell. The eight-legged creature walks around the table, taking in its new surroundings.

“This is a spider.” He announces, holding his hand out for the arachnid to crawl up it. From the back of the room, you can hear Fred snort at his discovery. He pays no mind to it and continues talking, “Could you list the unforgivable curses again?”

You gulp and stare at his hand, “Cruciatus, Imperius, and the Killing curse, sir.” You whisper out, you had an idea where this was going and you didn’t like being in front of the whole class as it happens. Moody had no mercy during his time as an Auror and it was no question that it was going to translate over in his teaching.

He nods then carefully sets the spider on your shoulder causing you to suck in some air. You close your eyes and try to calm yourself, you knew what he was doing and you weren’t about to let him use you as a demonstration in front of everyone. Luckily, during the years of helping Hagrid down at his hut, you met his huge friend Aragog and its hundreds of children.

You finally open your eyes and see Moody standing on the other side of the classroom, his arms laying across his chest as he watches you intently. “Take the spider off.” You immediately move to grab it but he stops you, “Using one of the curses.” He specifies which sends a shiver down your spine.

You bite your bottom lip and look at George who is a few seats away from the teacher. He gives you a solemn look since he knew how you felt about the curses. The Auror knew what he was doing. But if you weren’t going to listen to him, there would most likely be consequences and you didn’t want to find out what punishments he could come up with.

“Imperio.” You mutter out, pointing your want to the harmless creature. Carefully, you pull it out of your hair and hold it out in front of you.

“During the Dark Lord’s reign, he used that curse to make people do his bidding. Taking control over their mind to do dark things.” The professor explains, “Some of his followers even used it as an excuse when they in court, begging for their life.” He announces, making sure to make eye contact with you. You knew your father used the excuse to get away with his wrongdoings after the Dark Lord was defeated.

“Some wizards were able to fight it, though.” He continues while the class watches in anticipation as the spider hangs patiently in the air. “Now, Miss Malfoy, demonstrate what he did when they didn’t listen.”

You let out a scoff, it echoing through the silent classroom. “Respectfully, sir, I’m not going to--”

“Do it, Malfoy.” He sneers, slamming his cane into the floor. The two of you stare at each other, glaring at him and trying to silently tell him that you didn’t feel comfortable doing that but he wasn’t backing down.

Turning your attention back at the creature, you spin it to look at you. You give it a soft look, quietly apologizing to it before you were forced to torture it. “Crucio.” You mutter out through clenched teeth sending the arachnid to let out a high-pitched squeal.

The class watches in horror as the spider curls up on the table and whines for its life, just as the professor said the humans did. Moody watches with a sinister smile on his face while you hold back your tears. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to do to a living thing but here you were, in front of your fellow classmates torturing an innocent little spider.

“Finish it off.” Moody pushes, George and Fred’s heads snap to one another. They share a look before looking back towards you, wondering if you were actually going to listen to the teacher. They were shocked that you went even as far as the Cruciatus so they didn’t know what to expect from you now.

Letting out a shaky breath, you stare down at its little legs folding into its body. There was some part of you that wanted to prove yourself to the professor since he was such a legend but you knew this wasn’t the way. The students wait for you to make the next move.

“What, are your ears not workin’?” Moody spits out, “finish off the little vermin.”

The whining suddenly stops causing you to let out a sigh of relief. The Auror stands there, a small smile on his face. There was an eerie silence in the classroom as the students try to process what you just did.

“I can’t believe she did it.” You hear someone whisper to their partner causing you to snap your gaze towards the voice. The Ravenclaw flinches at the sudden movement, you open your mouth to explain what you did but no words come out. You scan over your classmates, the fear in their eyes was evident.

No one had to voice their thoughts as you already knew what was running through their heads. The room felt like it was crashing down on you, the air from your lungs being sucked out. It felt like you were back in second year, the judgemental eyes making assumptions of you. Feeling the tears starting to fall, you rush out of the room.

Reality seems to snap back when the slam of the door alerts everyone. Everyone bursts into conversation about what just happened in front of them as Moody makes his way to the table. The twins watch as he pokes the spider with his wand, it not moving. George goes to stand up from his chair to follow you out but is cut off by the spider jumping up from its position.

The ginger visibly relaxes, realizing that you just used a silent body-binding curse for it to appear that you killed the spider. He sits back down in his chair and a smile tugs at his lips, proud that you didn’t allow the Professor to push you past your beliefs.

Moody’s mouth opens slightly, surprised that you were able to do an indication without muttering a word. “That sly girl.” He whispers out while the class goes into a different frenzy. It shocked him that you were able to do something most graduated wizards couldn’t. You were smart, it was obvious, and it lit a sick curiosity in the back of his head.

#george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #george weasley x reader #weasley twins #Weasley twins imagine #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fanfic #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #hp

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capituloperdido1 · 3 years

Text

ACOSAS

Chapter 1

Here is the first chapter, please let me know what you guys think! Warnings: Anxiety Attack, mentions of SA

There was not a night, in which the shadowsinger did not wake up sweating after his night terrors. It had become a routine for him, to see the flames in his dreams, to see the smiles and dark eyes of his so-called brothers while they laughed at his pain. At first, he would find ways to comfort himself, he would read, pray to the Mother, and even journal (a suggestion given to him by his blonde friend). However, after the years passed, and his nightmares did not disappear, he had come to realize that the nightmare was a punishment from the cauldron. The scars, the nightmares, the fact that he did not have a mate; it was all a punishment for the horrors that he had committed. So he accepted the nightmares, he accepted the scars, the accepted the loneliness, he accepted the punishment Azriel rolled over the bed, taking off the sheets that had covered his body; and sat at the edge of the bed. He took a couple of seconds to look around his room. Five... the grey walls, the black wooden desk, the leather chair in front of the fireplace, the basket of dirty clothes, and the book that the priestess had let him borrowed. Four... the satin sheets on his bed, the trim curls on his head, the fleece black pants he wore, and the wooden decorations that surrounded his bed. Three... the chirping of birds in the morning, faint music from Velaris, and the sound of trees moving with the wind. Two... whiskey and roses. One... the taste of the chocolate pudding the house had given him the night before. He exhaled as his mind acknowledged reality. Sometimes, when the nightmares were too real; he woke up afraid to be in that cell... prison that his childhood self had called home. He stood, looking for his fighting leaders as he got ready to go to the training ring. Maybe the day ahead was not going to be bad, maybe something good might happen. Maybe, a certain auburn-haired priestess would be there. -.-.-.-.- The sun was just rising, the cold autumn wind tickled his wings as he flew up the house of wind. As if she had guessed he wanted to see her this morning; Gywn moved with gracious velocity while she tried the new obstacle arrangement that was meant for that morning. Azriel smiled to himself, one thing that he admired of the priestess was her willingness to overcome any challenge. She had become known around Prythian, the priestess, and her Valkarie friends, as the fiercest women in their territory. Some feared the group of females, others wanted to become like them. After the Valkaryes had conquered the mountain, many more priestesses had come to train with them; even some Illyrian females, not more than a dozen, had decided to learn the ways of the warriors. Nesta, Emerie and Gwyn had to help him and his brother train the new recruits; so they had resolved that the hour after the normal training would be focused on the three of them. However, over the last few months, he had a few one on one training sessions with the priestess. Once her smell hit him, his shadows became restless; one mischievous shadow shooting towards Gwyn and flying around her. They always reacted to her that way, as if they were anticipating throughout days and nights when they would see her again. At first, Azriel had been mortified; he worried that being surrounded by his shadows would make her uneasy, afraid or even disgusted. But, as always, the priestess had surprised him by smiling and opening her hands every time she saw them; welcoming his shadows with eagerness, not fear. -I was wondering if you would come today- she said playing with his shadow. Stop, come back he said to the shadow; but again it ignored him and flew around her hair as if saying i'm not leaving until i want to. -I had a feeling you were going to fail the training course, i could not miss it- he said jokingly. -mhm, sure shadowsinger- she smiled, taking a sip of her water - we both know I'm faster and more agile than you ever were- He laughed and took his leather jacket off A moment passed, and he confessed,- i couldn't sleep- -me neither- she said smiling sadly. They had never talked

about it.

What kept them up at night, they didn't need to. They resorted to talking about books, trains and make snarky remarks to each other. He had to admit that her competitiveness matched his own; and in some way, it helped him forget about his nights. -well... how about you time me, and then i'll time you shadowsinger- she said. He smiled, he appreciated that she never pushed him; and in return, he never pushed her. He knew her terrors, he had been there to witness most of them. But unlike him, he prayed to whatever deity existed that she could overcome them. If there was one person in this world who did not deserve one bad dream was Gwyneth Berdara. -hmm... but let's make a bet priestess- he smirked. -you win, ill bring you the stash of chocolate brownies Nesta hides in the house. I win and you will let me look at more of your notes on mind-stilling- The priestess had come one night with stashes of papers in her hands; she had dumped the papers in his lap and said - i have not finished it, don't judge the writing. But read it, and try some of the exercises, it has helped me with... you know- From that moment on, he read mind stilling exercises for his anxiety after a bad dream. Gwyn smiled, tying her long hair up in a ponytail. His shadows stilled for a moment, not in fear, but in admiration. -sounds like a deal shadowsinger- He dared to open his mind to his shadows, curious to hear what they were thinking; beauty, they said, autumn beauty. -.-.-.-.- Somehow, they ended up training until Nesta and Cassian came up the stairs. Neither of them had completed the course without busting their asses in the sand at least once. However, she was happy to convince him that even if there was no winner she would let him borrow another copy. Azriel knew that meant he would have to bargain with the house (who somehow held the brownies away from anyone) and exchange some smut books for at least one or two. His brother approached him smiling; after the Blood Rite and all the mess that had been the last couple of months, Cassian and Nesta were finally able to plan their mating ceremony. Azriel never pictured Cassian as the man who would talk for hours about how Magnolias and Lilies could not go together. But his brother was so happy, so excited to plan his ceremony; that he had been part of every decision made until that point. Nesta was more than happy to lay off the decisions of lighting and colors for their mountain ceremony; she was more focused on the guests. Cassian had insisted on inviting some of the high lords; to satisfy Rhys and make it somehow a place to prepare for Koschei. Nesta had refused and had threatened to poke Rhysands eyes out if someone other than Hellion, and Kallias arrived to their ceremony. -hey Az, you look like a whole building fell on your face man- said Cassian while tying a bun with a string of leather. -and you look like you need an ass-kicking, should I tell Nesta to humiliate you in the ring again?- he responded, smiling while he remembers the oldest Archeron sister kicking his brother out of the ring in their last hand to hand combat As the rest of their class arrived, Azriel took the chance to get near Gwyn. - Listen, I know I didn’t let you go back to your chambers. But... thank you, for ... you know being here - he said while scratching the back of his neck. She smiled. And his shadows danced happily looking at her dimples and red lips, beautifully matching her hair. -you know Azriel, I know I’ve never said it. But as your friend, I will be here whenever you need me. If you need to talk, fight, or read some smut... I’ll be here - Gwyn said. He nodded and attempted to show that her words had not just opened a light inside him that for five hundred years had disappeared. -thank you Gwyn-. -.-.-.-.-.- After the training, Azriel walked to his chamber when he heard the voice of his brother in his head. I need you, there is a mission that needs attending. Now. He sighed, he hated that Rhys sounded upset every time he talked to him; but after the mess during solstice, he had not been able to make

things right with him. With anyone for that matter; he had avoided Rhys and Elain, too scared to face the feelings that surged when he now thought of the seer. He flew to Rhys house, landing at the roof where his brother watched the bright morning of Velaris. - Azriel- his brother acknowledged him with a nod. After a couple of minutes, his high lord spoke. -how close are you with Gwyn, the priestess-. His eyebrows furrowed -why? Am I going to have to stay away from her too? - he said with an intentional bite in his tone. Rhys looked at him angrily -no. I need you and her for a new mission. One that requires trust, and your head on your brain, not your pants- -I would never think about her like that Rhys, not knowing what she had endured- he responded in a low voice. Rhys got close to him and put a hand on his shoulder - you’re right, I’m sorry. I know how much you respect and connect with her- -which is why I need you to take her to Helions library for a couple of weeks, I need her to do some research on the possibility of a fourth trove and how to help Vassa- It took Azriel a minute to process what his brother was asking of him... No, what he was asking of Gwyn. -no- he responded. Rhys grabbed his shoulder a little harder -what? What do you mean no?- -I mean that Gwyn will not leave the library under your orders. She is not ready for that- he said, his voice rising at the anger and protectiveness he felt in his chest. -how do you know that?- Rhys responded with the same tone. -because... because I know- Azriel answered -and you keep making decisions without regarding people’s feelings and fears, and that’s not okay Rhys- He knew that was unfair; his brother did what he did for the sake of the court, for the sake of the world. -Azriel that is not your call to make- his brother said in a softer voice. -neither is yours, especially because you don’t even acknowledge her existence. Or any of the Valkyries for that matter- he moved away from his brother. It took him a minute to look at Rhys, who had a pained look in his eyes. -you’re right, I can’t argue with that- he sighed-I’m sorry, I know I should’ve talked to her first; and now I will. However, if she says yes, I will task you to protect and help her. I can’t send Cass because he is ... mated now- Azriel laughed sarcastically. Of course, he thought, leave it to Rhys to make his cut bigger with a few words. -of course my lord- he said, and shot up to the sky without saying goodbye.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

At the library at the bottom of the house, things were usually quiet. That was one of the reasons why Gwyn had begun to train; the library offered no distraction to her mind, no way to still it if thoughts raced through her. She had been shelving books that Merril had given her for the past hour; thinking and avoiding the memory of last night's nightmare. The blood, the rough hands holding her down, the children screaming. It was all too much, it was all too real. She had gone up in the morning to the training pit. To avoid sleeping, yes, but also because she somehow knew that Azriel would be there. She hated that he had to go through what she went through, but she was grateful for his presence at the moments when she needed him the most. Steps sounded at the end of the hallway, and Gwyn stiffened. They sounded male, heavy, and loud. She knew it was not Azriel, his shadows always let her know that he was approaching. She looked up from her book nervously, ready to run away if needed.... But that was her high lord looking at her with a sweet smile on his face -hello Gwyn, Valkyrie, Carynthian warrior- he smiled. And she realized that out of the three brothers, Azriel had the best smell. She liked the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar, the others smelled too sweat and too flowery for her taste. -high lord- she courtesy nervously. -please, don’t do that, we are practically family right ?- he said while offering her a bag that she had not noticed he carried. -I’m bringing you the best chocolate croissants in the city, Feyre told me you and Nesta enjoy chocolate at the same rate. I hope you like them- he placed them in her cart, knowing she would not touch him. Another set of steps sounded at the distance, and her sister appeared walking with rapid-fire towards her. - I told you to wait Rhysand- Nesta said. -I...it’s okay Nesta, thank you High... Rhysand— Gwyn said, opening the bag and smelling it. Damn... that was dark chocolate in the croissants; her favorite. -what can I do for you guys?- she said while taking a bite of the soft, sweet bread. -we were wondering if you wanted to dine with us tonight, here in the House, only Az, Cass, Nesta, Feyre and me- The High Lord said. - we have a proposal for you, but we want to talk to you about it first-. She looked at Nesta, who was stealing some of her croissants. - su...sure... I’ll gladly accept. It would be an honor - she smiled. -.-.-.- After her shift with Merrill ended, she went to her chambers to bathe quickly. She should change, she knew they dined casually, she wanted to fit in with the group. So she bathed, braided her hair and decided to wear a flowery blue dress that showed the mid of her back; it had a tight bodice and a skirt that flowed until the top of her knees. It had been a gift from Nesta, she had told her to use it whenever she wanted to practice what she would do when she went to Velaris for the first time. As she climbed up the stairs, she imagined what life would be like if she was brave enough to leave the library. Gods she wanted to be in the city, wanted to try the food, hear the music, look at the people. But it all scared her too much. She was waiting for an opportunity, she said to herself, an opportunity to escape the library and be dragged to the real world. The smell of roasted potatoes, beef, and vegetables filled her nose; she thanked the Mother that the house cook. she approached the dining room and smiled at hearing Nesta laugh so hard, probably at something her mate had said. She was happy that her sister had found a man that grounded her, filled her (in every sense of the way) and that respected her. She was a bit jealous that she had found a mate though, she had studied the relationships of mates for months, and understood that they were rare but only rare among powerless faes. Which meant, that the possibility of finding hers was minimum... or as Merril liked to say an absolute zero. -you came!- said Nesta, smiling. Gwyn strode down the hall to sit beside Nesta; her eyes looking around the room to acknowledge everyone who was there.

-thank you for inviting me - she said, coming out as barely a whisper. Rhysand approached with a smiled that brightened the entire room, - thank you for coming, Gwyn, i know the effort it must have been but i appreciate it-.

She smiled -those chocolate croissants were really persuasive my lord-. Rhysand got even bigger -look at you, already teasing me as Cassian does-. The house placed food in front of her, adding extra vegetables. To which she frowned "i didn't know you cared for my vitamins". She ate silently, admiring how the dynamic between all of them was. She couldn't deny the jealousy that threatened to rise, she missed having a family. No, she missed being able to enjoy family without the fear of the outside world suffocating her. Minutes, hours passed and they all kept talking. Azriel had changed his seats to be in front of her, the shadowsinger looking deeply at her while she played with her water. She felt even more comforted now that he was near her. Rhysand stood and cleared his throat -well, i'm sure Gwyn has had enough of our voices; so let's get to the point-. He approached her slowly and passed her a paper she had not noticed he carried. -we want to officially invite you to be part of this court- he started. -Everyone that is here admits that there is no one more deserving and capable to be the official scholar of the Night court-. He laid the paper in front of her. A contract, offering an obscene amount of money. -you... want me to work for you?- she said -yes, if you are comfortable doing this of course- he responded. The contract asked her to inform, research,and educate the leaders of the court, on different matters she would be asked to. -Before you accept- Azriel spoke softly, looking at Rhysand, -you should hear what the first mission would ask from you-.

Rhysand nodded, -we are looking for the possibility of a fourth trove, and we can only do so in the biggest library of the country.... in the day court-.

Leaving the library, she would not only leave the library but also the night court.

Was she ready for that?

-Would i go by myself?- she asked him

-No, you would go with Azriel as your bodyguard, or assistant, whatever you need from him- Rhysand responded.

She smiled, looking at the shadowsinger. - And you accepted this?-

His mouth quirked upward -if i didn't we would have had Nesta to deal with-.

This was it, this was the push she had asked for.

-Rhysand, i would be honored to be the scholar of your court- she said, - and i thank all of you for trusting me, i will not let you down-.

She looked around the room to find every single one of the court's members looking at her with loving, proud eyes.

She would go to the Day Court, she would find a way to help her friends and her world.

Gwyneth Berdara looked at her future companion, the beautiful male with eyes of honey that she would daydream about.

Who knows? Maybe this mission would bring them closer. Maybe they would finally talk about their nightmares, their fears.

Maybe she would finally be able to show Azriel how she felt about him. And maybe this time, he would listen.

#gwyn acotar #gwynriel #gwyneth berdara #azriel #azriel fanfic #fanfic #acotar #post acosf #nesta archeron #nesta and gwyn #acotar fanfiction

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star-whores-a-new-hoe · 4 years

Text

One Shot: Break the Ice//Anakin X Reader

Summary: After you’ve been particularly cold towards Anakin during a senatorial party, he decides to remind you who’s in charge.

Warnings: Some sensory shit cause Anakin uses ice on the reader, can’t stress this enough READER IS TEASED WITH ICE, dom/sub, soft dom Ani, some begging, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, typos and bad writing, I’m tired y’all!

A/N: I wrote this based of an Anakin gif and Britney Spears song in about two days so sorry if it’s crap! Love y'all and hope you enjoy!

Word count: 2.2K

You sat impatiently near a few other senators, the room filled with the Lively sounds of shallow conversation and the clinking of glasses. You drummed your fingers lightly against your knee, trying not to let your utter boredom show in your expression. With a sigh, you turned your gaze to the clock, counting down the minutes till you could flee back to the refuge of your apartment and the arms of your Anakin.

“Greetings senator.” Said a familiar voice from behind you. Before you even acknowledged his presence, you scanned the room for signs of any watchful Jedi, any senators that would be on the lookout for gossip, any droids that might repeat snippets of conversations. Any threats.

“Hello general Skywalker.” You replied, a coolness creeping its way into your voice. You turned in your seat to face your lover, attempting to appear as disinterested as possible. His eyes meet yours, searching for an answer to your strange behavior.

“Enjoying the party?”

“Oh immensely.” You lied.

“Really? Because you seem a little…” He paused, trying to find the right words.

You lowered your voice slightly so as to not run the risk of being overheard. “Well there are just so many people here. I’d hate for anyone to see a senator talking to a Jedi and get the wrong impression.” He looked at you with a bemused expression, eyebrows slightly raised and a cocky smile gracing his lips.

“I see.” The two of you fell silent, letting the sounds of the party fill the tension.

“Well,” you said, clearing your throat as you stood. “I must be going.” You picked up your drink and started to move across the room.

“Senator.” Anakin said quietly in a way of farewell, watching as you walked away.

“General.”

***

You pushed yourself through the door of the apartment with an exhausted groan. Closing your eyes, you rested your back against the doorway as you slipped off your shoes.

“Hello?” Anakin’s voice echoed through the hallway as he came to greet you. He appeared before you, looking so enticing and safe, you practically sighed at the sight of him.

“Hi baby.” You walked towards him and wrapped yourself in his embrace, reveling in it after such a long day.

“Oh I’m ‘baby’ now? I thought it was ‘General Skywalker’?” You rested your forehead on his shoulder, mentally cursing your earlier dismissiveness.

“I’m sorry about that Ani, there were just so many people there, I didt want to look suspicious so I thought it was best to act slightly-“

“Cold?” He suggested. You nodded into his shoulder.

“Yeah, cold.” You nuzzled your nose into the warm skin of his neck. “ I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok sweetheart,” He said as he placed his chin on top of your head. “I understand.” You let out an exhale of relief that you didn’t even realize you’d been holding in. “Although,” He added “I’m not sure that you’ve 100% learned your lesson.” You pulled back from him with a puzzled expression.

“My lesson?” He nodded as he stroked your cheek with his gloved hand, sweeping it across the smooth skin with the lightest of touches. Anakin looked down at you with powerful, lust filled eyes that sent shivers of anticipation throughout your body, the scar across his eye further heightening his effect on you.

“I need to grab something real quick, I’m going to come back in a minute and I want to see you waiting for me on the bed.” He pulled away from you, leaving you feeling slightly empty. As he turned his back from you and walked away he called over his shoulder. “And clothes off!”

With a newly lit excitement coursing through your veins, you practically ran to the bedroom. Quickly, you stripped yourself of your tiresome senatorial wear and under garments before jumping onto the bed, sprawling yourself out among the pillows while you awaited Anakin’s return.

Anakin entered the room, a glass full of ice cubes rested in his hand. He looked down at you as he walked around the bed, his eyes raking over every inch of your exposed body. He placed the cup down before seating himself on the edge of the bed. He absentmindedly grabbed an ice cube from the cup, rubbing it between two of his flesh fingers, letting it begin to melt, the cool water dripping down his hand.

“What, um, do you have in mind exactly?” You asked, although you were almost certain of his plans.

“Well,” He said as he thought of all the things he could do to you. “Since you decided to be so cold towards me today, I thought that the punishment should fit the crime.” With that, he delicately placed the ice cube on the side of your neck, you squirmed away from the biting cold.

“Ani!” You yelped.

“Who?”

“General Skywalker,” You whined. “it’s so cold!”

“Well that’s the whole point! It wouldn’t be much of a lesson otherwise.” With his gloved hand he once again cupped your cheek, brushing his thumb across your bottom lip. “Now hold still and take it like a good girl.”

With a small whimper, you complied. He slowly trailed the ice cube down your hot pulse point and across your collarbone, leaving a shining trail atop your skin in its wake. You bit your lip, trying hard to keep in your complaints of the nipping cold, but despite the uncomfortableness of it all, you began to feel a different type of wetness pool between your legs.

Your breathing became heavy as Anakin traced the underside of your breast with his cold crystal. With impatient eyes you watched his hands work, drifting over your tits. You let out a high pitched whine as he brushed over your nipples.

“I know baby, you're doing good for me.” He said soothingly, teasing your breasts till your nipples were stiff peaks and your skin felt down right frozen. When Anakin was satisfied and your tits all but soaked from the cube, he drifted lower, swiping the almost melted ice across your stomach. The cube finally liquified, The melted ice and your sweat combining to cover your body in a sparkling sheen. “You look so pretty like that baby.” He told you, leaning over to grab another ice cube from the cup.

“Please An-General.” You corrected yourself. “I’ve learned my lesson, I promise.” You looked up at him with pleading, desperate eyes, unsure of how long you could endure his torture.

Without a word, he pushed your legs apart before taking the new ice cube swirling it over the soft flesh of your inner thighs. “No.”

You cried out in frustration, the cold being so intense that it was almost hot. Between your begging and pleading you watched as Ani brought the nipping cold closer and closer to your warm, dripping center.

“General, please! I’ve been such a good girl for you! Please!” But he was deaf to your pleas as he placed the ice cube directly on your aching clit. You opened your mouth in a silent scream. Your body was beginning to shake slightly with shivers from the cold. The ice sitting atop your cunt felt like it was relentlessly biting into your hot flesh. The melted ice dripped off your body, soaking the sheets beneath you as you squirmed away from Ani’s touch. The contrast between the warmth of your pussy and the cool ice was maddening.

“Oh stars, what if I get hypothermia or something?”

Ani laughed down at you. “You’ll be alright sweetheart, it’s almost melted anyways.”

You turned your head to look him up and down. You took in the way his hair had fallen into his face, how his jedi robes clung to his toned body, and the very prominent tent forming between his legs.

As the last bit of the cube melted away, relief flooded your senses. Anakin rubbed his hands up and down your sides as you shivered, a feeble attempt to expel the icy cold from your skin. He moved so that he was over top of you and began to press warm kisses down the path the ice had traveled meer moments before.

“Did so well for me, pretty girl.” He murmured against you. With timid hands, you tangled your fingers in his soft locks.

“Ok, ok, I think I learned my lesson, force I’m freezing!”

“Don’t worry baby,” You could feel his smirk against you. “I’ll warm you up.” With that, he pulled himself away from you, stripping himself of clothing as fast as humanly possible. You sat up and helped him discard his attire, running your hands over the broad expanse of his chest before bribing them down to massage his growing bulge.

He brought his face down to yours, crashing his lips into you with fierce passion. Your mouths moved together in a devilish dance of tongue and teeth, desperate to taste each other. You pulled away from him reluctantly when the need for air grew too much.

“Make me warm General skywalker.” He let out a lust filled groan before crashing his lips back into yours as he reached a hand down between your legs, tracing his fingers through your dripping folds. You moaned at his touches, his warm fingers against your still slightly cold cunt had your head spinning.

“You like that sweetheart?” He asked as he pushed two of his long fingers into you, the drag against your inner walls extracting all sorts of noises from you. “Won’t be ignoring me again any time soon, hmm?”

“N-no I won’t,” You reassured him. “please General, I need you, need your big cock inside of me!” You cried out in pleasure as he curled his fingers inside of your, hitting that toe curling spot of yours. On impulse, you yanked on his soft curls where your fingers rested, extracting a deep groan from your jedi.

“You want my cock baby?” He asked. You nodded frantically, feeling heat finally begin to rise up to your face. “Well,” He said with a chuckle. “How could I say no to that face?” Anakin moved to be in between your legs, running his hands up and down over your goosebumps on your arms in a soothing manner. He brought his hand down to place himself at your entrance, swirling his tip over your sensitive clit, teasing you cruelly. Slowly, he began to enter you, the two of your groaning in unison at the sensation. He was torturously slow, letting you feel every inch of his dick pleasurably stretch you out.

“Ani.” You whimpered when he was completely submerged in your soaking pussy. In a heartbeat, he pulled out, leaving just his tip inside of you.

“I thought we went over this?”

“General! Please, please fuck me!” With that he set a relentless pace, pounding into you, taking your breath away with every thrust. Your head grew fuzzy as he fucked you, the fast, brutal pace and the drag of his dick building up an indescribable pleasure in your core, your pussy starting to clench around his length. You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to be as close to him as you possibly could. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your sweet scent, letting it drive him into a lust led frenzy.

As you felt your inpending orgasam grow closer and closer, you snaked your hand inbetween your bodys to massage your swollen clit.

“You close sweetheart? Can feel that sweet little pussy clenching around my cock.” You moan unabashedly at his words. You grew closer and closer to the edge, a tight coil of hot pleasure threatening to explode within you, his grunts and groans in your ear only spurring you on.

“P-please I’m so close!”

Anakin could feel himself growing closer to the edge as well, knowing that all he needed was your undoing to finally send him over the edge. “Cum for me sweetheart, come all over my cock.”

You fell with a scream into a body shaking, back arching off the bed, breath taking orgasm. It was all you could do to cling to Anakin as pleasure enveloped your body every inch of your body, your vision going dim from the intensity. Anakin continued to fuck you through, chasing his own high as you recovered your breath.

His cock was twitching inside you, his thrusts becoming harsh and sloppy, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. “Wh-where do you want it?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Inside!” You cried out. with that he spilled his hot seed inside you, coating your inner walls with a guttural moan. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, basking in the glow of each other as you steadied your breathing. Anakin attempted to remove himself from you to go clean the two of you up but you quickly pulled him back down on top of you. “I’m still a little chilly.” You murmured with your face squished against his strong bicep. He let out a deep laugh that made your heart flutter. “Think I’m just gonna use you as a human blanket for a while.”

“I’ve got you baby, I won’t be going anywhere.”

You let out a content sigh at the feeling of being in his arms. “I love you, General.”

“I love you too, Senator.”

Tagging: @anakinswhore @princessxkenobi @basicanti-socialb-tch @paigeskywalker

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forasecondtherewedwon · 4 years

Text

Absolute Penn

Pairing: Beth Harmon/Benny Watts Rating: T Word Count: 1429

Summary: On Christmas Eve, Beth remembers her mother's words about holiday travel and spontaneously departs for New York City.

She hasn’t experienced a crush of human bodies like this since she was mobbed by elderly Russian men at a chess park. Thankfully, here, everyone is just passing through and their determination to navigate the crowd secures her anonymity. Nobody wants to shake her hand—they don’t even notice her. So many people are coughing and sniffling. Although it’s hot and she’s been regretting putting her heavy coat back on since the instant she stepped off the train, Beth tucks her face into the woolen collar to breathe more private, hopefully less germ-laden, air.

The suitcase in her hand collides with her own knees and those of what feels like hundreds of others as she weaves with the masses to escape the platform and stride down the comparative spaciousness of the concourse. She could’ve flown. She should’ve flown. Why didn’t she fly? Beth tries to recall her reasoning as she cranes her neck to hunt for signs, something to tell her how to get out of here. Which way to the damn fresh air?

Right, right, right, because New York to Moscow (and the reverse) was a hellishly long trip and she hasn’t wanted to board a plane since. Planes are lonely things, without her mother sipping a Gibson and drawing her out of her thoughts every once in a while. Beth didn’t seek out a travel companion on the train that brought her to Penn Station either, but she had the landscape to watch as her passenger car shuddered northeast, not just sky. She’s seen an awful lot of sky in her life. Clouds are ghoulishly repetitive. Déjà fucking vu for the entire duration of an overcast flight.

Unfortunately, the train journey isn’t paying off in all the ways she anticipated. Alma’s assertion some years prior about the ease of traveling on Christmas is being disproven. Viciously. It’s either because Beth took the train on Christmas Eve, thereby missing the golden travel window by a day, or this station doesn’t ever take a break from… this. She has nothing to compare it to; the last time she was in New York (the only time), she arrived by car. Benny’s car. And she has a good memory of inquiringly ruffling the parking tickets accumulated on his windshield as he shrugged it off—that’s what stopped her from driving.

Beth finds a bathroom and traps her suitcase between her feet as she splashes cold water on her face and the back of her neck. She’ll recommit herself to the task of finding an escape in a minute, but now that she’s here, well, her competence is withdrawing inside herself and her nerves about the next part are rising. Where the competence was a hard shell—the ability to ask clearly and firmly for directions while wearing an invulnerable expression—the nerves are sweat and vapour. They rise and pass through her skin, leaving her damp, insubstantial. She didn’t tell Benny she’d be coming.

They’ve spoken. They’ve called and even narrowly missed one another in person when they both decided to drop in on the same tournament (to see friends, not to play) hours apart. After Moscow last winter, coming to New York to visit him felt like too grand a gesture. Of course, now she’s come anyway, and on Christmas Eve, which really can’t be categorized as less subtle. She obviously should’ve just done it right away. Waiting has led to something dramatic and undisguisably meaningful. Fuck. Beth snatches her suitcase off the floor and pushes back out into the swarm of travelers.

Even the oxygen seems harried. People jog and dodge and she can’t tell who’s trying to catch their train versus who’s just arrived in the city. At first glance, there’s an equal panic over everyone. But she starts to notice others: couples in love with the hands not holding luggage clasping each other’s; a group of young women, a little younger than her, maybe, wearing nice shoes and satiny skirts beneath their coats, red-cheeked and probably on their way to a Christmas party; children, too dizzied by the flurry to be cranky with the parents dragging them along by their mittened hands. Beth remembers her mother, Alice. She remembers her own sullen face in the bathroom mirror at Methuen, wishes she could take that girl’s hand and tug, bringing her into this moment, the two of them gliding amongst the trundling hoard, out into the snow she saw from the train window. The sun set on the way and the stuff sprinkled down throughout. She’s going to step outside into a city that looks like a postcard, and that’s what propels Beth up and out. Almost out.

He’s standing at the ticket counter.

“That much? Did I walk into Penn Station or NASA? I said Kentucky, not the Moon. You can’t tell me Kentucky’s a popular destination. Who the hell wants to go to Kentucky for Christmas? Until Irving Berlin writes a song about it, nobody, that’s who. Nobody but me. Bullshit, fifty-three dollars. How ‘bout… twenty?”

Benny’s attempting to negotiate on his train fare. This is so funny that Beth can temporarily compartmentalize that he’s buying a ticket. A ticket to Kentucky, from what she’s overheard. Smirking, she strolls over.

“I don’t think that’s how it works,” she says lightly, eyeing the way he’s shaking a twenty-dollar bill at the impassive ticket seller. His hand slaps to the counter as he twists to stare at her in shock.

“What are you doing here?”

She laughs and feels her cheeks flush from the naked longing on his face.

“I live alone, it’s Christmas Eve, I thought New York would be pretty, and, oh yeah, you’re here. Don’t tell me you’ve already promised the air mattress to someone else.”

Really, she’s impressed that he takes the time to shake his head as he reaches for her after slipping the money away, framing her face in his hands. Cold hands—a relief against her skin. He holds the pose and someone turns the volume down on the rest of the world. The noise of the station dims around them. Beth has time to lift her eyes to the snowflakes glittering as they melt on the brim of Benny’s hat. Then, she’s letting her lids fall as he slants his head and presses his mouth to hers with an intense finality. She’s convinced that she was always meeting him at the station, that the trip was agreed upon and not a snap decision she made after decorating her small tree with the glass ornaments she resurrected from the attic storage, neatly packed away by Alma each January, and realizing she didn’t have to miss him.

Maybe they’re unalike, or were; he was willing to miss her and she tossed god-knows-what into her suitcase and caught the next train that would bring her here. It could be temperament, or strategy, something in him that says wait while her internal voice says act. What she knows it’s not is a gaping disparity in feeling because they kiss with equal fervour. Benny’s face grows warm against hers and she shivers when his chilly fingertips curl around to the back of her neck.

Slowly, she recognizes that the ticket seller is asking them to move aside; their display is blocking the counter. She’s smiling when her lips part and her eyes open. He looks smug as he pries the suitcase from her hand and they shuffle out of line.

“Why, hello, Benny,” she says.

“Why, hello, Beth. Left it a little late, didn’t you?”

“Me? At least I’m not just now getting in line to buy a ticket. Why didn’t you drive?”

“My car’s not the best in the snow. Or the ice. Or even the slush, really.”

“Sounds unsafe.”

“Oh, it is,” Benny agrees. His mouth hangs open for a second before his next words fill it in a rush, “Like the air mattress.”

Beth frowns.

“What’s wrong with the air mattress?”

“Very hazardous. Yeah, it’s, uh, made of some kind of toxic plastic. Any air that leaks out carries harmful gases.”

Playing along, she says, “Don’t worry. I don’t remember it ever deflating on me before.”

“Mmm,” he agrees, “but it’s been folded up awhile now. I don’t trust the seams. I think you’d better not sleep on it, just to be safe.”

“Well, I’m not sleeping on the floor.”

Benny grins.

“I’d never let you wake up Christmas morning on the floor, Harmon. Think better of me.”

He squeezes her shoulder and steers her out into the frosty New York night.

#in honour of the first time I've had to shovel snow this season: a Warmon holiday fic #my writing #The Queen's Gambit #Beth Harmon #Benny Watts #beth x benny

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darth-el · 4 years

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The Things I Have Become

Pairing: Steve x Hopper!Reader Warnings: Angst and mentions of weed, pills, depression, PTSD, anxiety, and if this needs anything else let me know as it’s relatively dark A/N: I’ve tried to keep this gender neutral. It was also inspired by the song Shadows by Yelawolf (the song is so much darker) and my writing playlist with the song on is here is you want to listen to it.

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There felt like a darkness looming over Steve ever since the events of Starcourt, he couldn't sleep or keep down anything he had eaten due to the constant anxiety with the thought of being surveilled by one government or another. The only thing that mildly numbed him were the pills the doctors prescribed and even they didn't do a good enough job for him. He didn't have many regrets in life but one of the biggest was inadvertently introducing you to what felt like his world that summer. He really wished he came up with a better lie than “We're teaching Robin Russian” when you came into Scoops that day when Robin was trying to crack the code. The moon shone through the cracks in the curtains and looking at his empty bed, he wanted nothing more than for you to be there with him and to comfort him when he woke up in cold sweats where he relived every single moment of Independence Day, he would get flashes when he was awake but at night the intensity was too much. He tried everything he could to distract himself so he could stay awake until he passed out from exhaustion, then the flashes would start again and it became a vicious cycle.

You had taken a lot longer to recover than doctors anticipated from the events of the past summer, you were getting pretty sick of being operated on by this point but you were pleased about the fact that you had a pretty steady supply of morphine or the reality would've felt far, far worse. You also had a constant stream of visitors to keep you entertained, however there was one that you wished would walk through that door but never did. It had been a months since you were admitted into hospital and lost your dad when he tried to save the world from the Russians, you foolishly thought that would've been enough to get Steve through the door; the fact he never did broke your heart slightly because you knew he would blaming himself meanwhile forgetting about the fact that Hopper was your father and El was your sister so it was inevitable. You really didn't blame him, you just wished that you could've told him that.

By the time you had left the hospital the snow on the ground was thick and the ground that was clear of snow was icy making it difficult to navigate on crutches, making you curse profusely every time you felt a piece of black ice under your crutch. Times like this made you realise how alone you had become and it was completely your choice, you could've moved away with the Byers and El but you wanted to forge your own path instead, even if it did mean staying in Hawkins for a little while before making a decision on where you wanted to go and what you wanted to do. You didn't want to be tied down any longer to this town and the second you left you weren't going to look back.

The second Steve heard a car door slam shut outside he felt the colour drain from his face and tensed up, he made himself scarce when he heard what sounded like someone trying to break down the front door. In reality it was you losing your balance and falling into it, he didn't come out of hiding until he heard your voice call his name while you were knocking loudly, he opened the door looking at you puzzled partially because he had no idea why you had come to see him and also why you were trying to break down his door. “Finally.” You said barging past him so you were out of the cold and took off your gloves with difficulty using your mouth.

“What are you doing here?” Steve asked still looking flabbergasted by your presence and letting the cold air in where he had forgotten to close the door.

“You didn't come to me,” You said with the second glove between your teeth as you pulled it off. “So I decided to come to you.” You sounded rather cheerful when you got the glove off with ease and Steve shivered like someone had walked across his grave prompting him to close the door.

“I didn't realise you were out.” He mumbled avoiding eye contact while walking into the living room.

“You would've known that if you came to visit me,” You said sounding rather snarky where the wounds were still fresh but you tried to put that aside for now. “You don't look like you've been sleeping.” You pointed out making him feel self conscious where he knew he had stopped putting effort into his appearance in recent months.

“Hm.” Was the only noise you could get out of him as he sat down on the couch furthest from you.

“Steve just talk to me,” You begged making yourself comfortable on a chair you knew you could get up from easily. “I'm not angry at you about anything, I'm just really fucking hurt.”

“What do you want me to say?” Steve responded sounding angry but you knew the anger was directed at himself more than it was you.

“Steve we have known each other since we were kids and were dating for six months,” Your voice was sounding like you had been completely shattered. “Be honest with me because I think I deserve it after you went MIA.” You were pleading and so focused on him you didn't fully notice the sharp shooting pains up your leg where you had moved into an uncomfortable position.

“This is my fault,” Steve said loudly pushing himself up from the couch and throwing his arms in the air. “I can't sleep because I see what I did to you every single time I close my eyes.” He sighed letting his arms drop to the side but still avoided looking at you.

“Ste-” You said softly before you were cut off.

“The only way I can cope is to make myself numb with the goddamn pills that the doctors gave me and I can't eat because I feel like I'm being constantly watched,” He continued. “I feel like I've become the things that terrified me.” He said his voice cracking, you just stared at him trying to process what he just said.

“Steve,” Your voice was still soft while trying to get up from your seat. “You didn't do this to me,” You said moving over to him and trying to make it so you were standing comfortably and less reliant on your crutches. “I would've died if you hadn't saved me.” You said falling slightly trying to stroke his arm which resulted in you grabbing it instead with him catching you by the waist so you didn’t fall into the coffee table and injure yourself more.

“If I had come up with a better lie though.” He sighed still holding onto you and helping you onto the couch.

“Do you really think I would've been safe?” You asked taking his hand and pulling him down gently so he was sitting next to you. “I mean Hopper was my dad and El was my sister.” You laughed before noticing the fact that his living room was littered with cigarette butts, you also noticed that there was a distinct smell of weed lingering in the air.

“They managed to protect you though.” Steve sighed running his fingers through his hair.

“You really don't think I would've found out?” You asked feeling slightly offended despite the fact you had no reason to be. “I mean the bullshit story about how she was a distant cousin that I never met who had lost both her parents in a car accident and they named my dad of all people to look after her if anything happened, really Steve?” You asked shaking your head feeling even more offended that your dad took you for a fool.

“It was me that revealed everything to you.” Steve said feeling a massive amount of guilt.

“Whether it was you, my dad, or El it wouldn't have changed the outcome.” You said trying to reassure him but you knew your words weren't getting through to him. “You can't change the past Steve but you can change the future and I'm not sure my future is in Hawkins but I do know I want you in mine, all you need to do is decide if you want me in yours.” You sighed getting up and making your way out the door, it wasn't until you had reached your car and was getting ready to unlock it when Steve came outside, you noticed all he had on were a pair of socks making you wince where you could imagine how cold he actually was.

“Don't go.” Steve said looking teary eyed leaning against your car door as if to stop you from getting in, with that you led Steve back indoors.

This was the first night where Steve didn't feel like he needed to be distracted in order to go back to sleep where you were close to him, it wasn't the most comfortable night sleep by any stretch of the imagination due to your cast but you were happy because you felt like you made the right decision to stay in Hawkins. Both of you knew that you had a lot of work to do if you were going to make this relationship work now, you also knew that even putting the work in the memories were still going to haunt you both but you prayed they wouldn't eat you alive and you were going to make it out stronger.

#Stranger Things #Stranger Things 1 #Stranger Things 2 #Stranger Things 3 #Stranger Things One Shot #Stranger Things Oneshot #Stranger Things x Reader #Stranger Things x You #Stranger Things x Y/N #Steve Harrington #Steve Harrington Angst #Steve Harrington x Reader #Steve Harrington x You #Steve Harrington x Y/N #ST1 #ST2 #ST3

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tweetracer · 4 years

Note

Meeting the lost boys by knocking into one of their bikES 👀👌🏻

OP WHAT’S IT LIKE HAVING THE BIGGEST BRAIN IN THE WORLD (also this is my sECOND TIME WRITING THIS CAUSE MY COMPUTER CRASHED W/O SAVING SO SORRY IF IT’S GARBO)

LOST BOYS x S/O WHO RAN INTO THEIR BIKES

DAVID

Okay you already had one drink too many and fuck that was a cool looking bike. You were new to the area so people’s quiet comments of ‘that’s a bad idea’ went right over your head. You were just gonna look nobody can get pissed at you for looking.

Of course looking had turned to touching.

You ran your fingers across the smooth leather of the handles, admiring how well maintained it was despite clearly being frequently used.

“Can I help you?”

“FUCK HOLY SHI-“ you fell forwards at the voice that came from behind you, stumbling and watching as the bike fell in slow motion towards the ground.

You closed your eyes, wincing when you heard the SNAP! of the side view mirror as it landed, crumpled, beneath the vehicle.

The sound of a frustrated sigh made you turn slowly- and suddenly you felt a lot more sober as you looked up into the sharp blue eyes of a blonde man standing with his arms crossed and his gaze narrowed.

He looked ready to scream before you tossed your hands up- stumbling through your words as you offered to pay. You patted yourself down hurriedly desperate to find your wallet when it hit you.

Fuck you left it at your apartment.

Explaining the situation you offered to go get the money and bring it back to him, assuring you were good for your word.

“Forgive me sweetheart but I’m not exactly keen on trusting someone who just broke my mirror off”

You winced and nodded understandingly before inviting him to come along so he knew you wouldn’t bail and his eyebrows rose up.

He’d seen enough pornos to know exactly where this was headed ;)

Never opposed to a good time he agreed, following you in the short walk to your apartment with such confidence it was hard to tell who was leading who. He introduced himself as David as the two of you walked- actually starting a pretty good rapport despite the rocky introduction.

As you finally made your way to the front of your apartment David straightened himself, stomach curling with anticipation as he readied himself for the coy little song and dance before you got to really repay him for the damages.

Confident, he took a step forwards before- THUD

He ran face first into your door. Reeling for a moment before he realized that you just closed the fucking door on him what the-

Before David could voice his confusions and frustration it swung open again, and there you were- standing before him with wallet in hand as you paged through some bills.

He glowered, upset that he had misread the cues of the situation and gave you an incredibly low-balled estimate. Frowning as you handed the cash over you wished him a goodnight and shut the door again.

Grumbling, it wasn’t until he was headed towards the stairwell to leave that he heard the sound of the creaky wood opening up.

You poked your head out, flushed and grinning before asking if he was free for dinner tomorrow night with a smug smile.

You little tease

PAUL

This was a stupid idea. You knew this was a stupid idea- but you swore to god if your friends teased you one more time for skipping on this bet you were going to lose it.

It was simple. Sit on one one of Santa Carla’s resident bad boys’ bikes and live to tell the tale and they pay your rent for a month. Easy... peasy...

You glanced over your shoulder, already feeling sweat start to form on your brow as you watched your friends gathered around the railing of the boardwalk- giving you thumbs up and egging you on.

Taking a deep breath you snuck across the beach side- having checked one, two, three times that none of those wannabe-gangsters were coming before finally sidling up to the line.

You picked one at random, taking a moment as you tried to figure out how to get up and into the seat without jostling it. Finally, you managed to straddle the seat, you were surprised just how soft the cushion felt against your legs as you looked across the beach at your companions.

They were waving their hands and mouthing something frantically- you squinted, leaning forwards and trying to get a better idea of what they were trying to tell you.

“I think they’re tryna warn you about me, doll”

“FUCK!”

You scrambled to get off the bike, stumbling and falling face-first into the sand. With all the blood rushing to your ears you couldn’t hear the stranger’s laughter as the bike tipped over, the air getting pushed out of your lungs as it landed across your back.

The stranger, a tall blonde guy decked out in full leather and studs, was doubled over with laughter- grabbing his stomach as tears formed in the corners of his eyes as he watched you flail uselessly underneath the motorcycle.

“Dude you look like a squashed roach” he choked, managing to get a hold of himself- his laughter tapering off into tiny giggles, leaning his hands on his knees to look down at you with a wild grin.

Finally, he deigned to help, using one hand to lift the bike up like it weighed nothing. Once freed you groaned, back aching from where you would no doubt be sporting a gnarly bruise tomorrow.

Before you got the chance to get up you felt two strong arms wrap around you, lifting you into the air with a dramatic twirl- your hands flying to his shoulders on instinct.

The biker held you up for a moment “If you wanted a ride all you had to do was ask, gorgeous”

Red all the way to your ears you mumbled a small thank you as he gently set you on wobbly knees, keeping a wide-palmed hand on your hip to steady you.

“I’m not one to look a gift horse in the mouth but if you’d like to explain what you were doing straddling my bike I’m all ears.” he purred, hand giving you a flirtatious squeeze as you recounted the bet- nodding to your group of friends who were frozen like deer in the headlights.

The stranger, Paul, made a humming noise in the back of his throat as he thought over your excuse before leaning in close to your ear.

“Well we can’t let them win then, can we, doll?” and with that he let go to swing a long leg over his bike, offering you a calloused hand and a wink.

Okay... maybe this was a good bet after all.

DWAYNE

It was late, you were exhausted, and your feet ached from standing up all afternoon and evening at your closing shift of Stoker’s Diner. Still dressed in your uniform you stumbled, yawning as you picked your way across the boardwalk.

Your eyes kept drifting closed- the moments between when you were awake and practically sleepwalking getting longer and longer as you followed the familiar route.

When you opened your eyes and you were staring up at the distant white light of stars you realize oh shit when did I fall.

Then you realized the sharp stabbing pain in your leg, hissing as you curled up, abs tensing as you saw the heavy bike on top of your shin. “Fuckin’ shit” you growled, grabbing your thigh in an attempt to pull yourself free.

The sudden weight was lifted and you looked up at broad shoulders and dark hair that framed a handsome face. You must have died, because this face was that of an angel’s.

“Am I dead?” you asked groggily, sleep-addled brain making your tongue a little looser as the stranger smiled. He held out his hand to you politely, waiting with a raised brow.

Your hand felt tiny in his as he gently lifted you onto your legs only for you to teeter over precariously at the sharp pain in your knee. Glancing down you saw bloody torn skin and a purple bruise beginning to bloom across your shin.

The man’s shoulders tensed slightly at the sight of a droplet blood trailing its way down your leg. Exhausted, you let yourself be manhandled into the seat.

“Here” his voice was a low rumble that made even your tired mind spark up eagerly.

God he was hot.

The biker lifted you up like a sack of feathers, setting you in the seat of the bike so your legs dangled above the ground. The man kneeled down, reaching into his pocket and rifling around in it for a few seconds before pulling out a band aid.

You stuttered out a thank you, feeling you face heat up as he glanced up at you from beneath thick lashes- a pleasant smile gracing his herculean features.

“You should be careful.” he spoke, fastening the adhesive to it with a gentle pat. You coughed shyly, unable to make eye contact as you quietly explained that you had a long shift and you were opening tomorrow again while your fingers played with the hem of your shirt.

The stranger listened silently, eyes soft as he focused- occasionally nodding his understanding. His hand was still on the back of you calf- fingers cold and sending goosebumps all the way up your spine.

When you finally finished he stood, looming over you as he introduced himself as Dwayne before hesitating- thinking something over..

“If you want... I can drive you home... probably safer than sleepwalking off the boardwalk again”

MARKO

When you told that guy to back off from your friend you did not think it would end with you running at top speed through the crowds of the boardwalk. The guy’s yelling seemed to get closer and closer as you jumped over a table- switching directions suddenly in an attempt to throw him off.

Your eyes darted around as you searched for a way out- landing on the railing off the edge of the boardwalk that led to the beach side parking. If you played your cards right you might be able to hitch a ride or at the very least lose him by hiding.

With a fell swoop you tossed your legs over the edge, falling a few stomach-churning feet before you touched the ground, skinning your knees as you took off again. Your assailant cursed, running down the stairs and getting left further behind.

Looking over your shoulder to track his progress you didn’t see the motorcycle in front of you.

In fact

You didn’t see the line of motorcycles in front of you.

And you sure as hell didn’t see the blonde boy decked out in a leather jacket milling about.

It wasn’t until you laid, cheek pressed against his chest and bike flat beneath your shins that you even realized what your collision was with. Gloved hands gripped your hips tightly and the two of you stared, confused at each other before you heard the footsteps getting closer.

“Shit shit shit- CAN YOU DRIVE THIS THING?” you were already sitting up, straddling his hips for a moment before pulling him to his feet.

He only stared, lips slightly parted and brown eyes wide before he nodded numbly- gaze unable to leave your face as you turned to see your attacker get close.

“HURRY-”

That seemed to kick him into gear as he glanced over your shoulder at the drunken surfer gaining ground towards the two of you. In a fluid motion he lifted the bike up and turned it on, the revving engine drowning out the chaos around you.

Without waiting for an invite you hopped on, gripping tight to his jacket as he peeled away from the line of the other bikes and taking off at a breakneck speed.

Your eyes squeezed shut as the wind whipped your hair around you- heart still pounding in your chest from adrenaline as you pressed your face into the stranger’s back with a sigh of blessed relief.

Long after the danger was far behind the two of you were still speeding along- running others out of your path and sidling closer towards the shore.

Your eyes closed and you relaxed a little bit, hands loosening their grip where it had been balled up in his jacket. His shoulders tensed and he leaned forwards, the motorcycle suddenly speeding up so fast there were tears in your eyes.

With an excited laugh that was whipped away by the wind you flung your arms around his chest, squeezing tight- his pleased smile and small blush invisible to you as he veered a sharp turn to make you hold onto him closer.

After what could’ve been hours or minutes of heart pounding excitement, the blonde boy finally slowed- eventually stopping the bike and parking it far away from the loud boardwalk.

His hair was a mess and the apples of his cheeks were pink with adrenaline and you got a good look at his face properly this time.

Oh he was cute.

He smiled, looking almost bashful

“I’m Marko, and uh- I had fun being your getaway driver.”

#the lost boys #the lost boys movie #the lost boys 1987 #lost boys 1987 #lost boys #lost boys imagines #character imagines #lost boys x reader #meet cute #lost boys dwayne #lost boys paul #lost boys david #lost boys marko #reader slash #character slash #x reader #Anonymous

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itisannak · 4 years

Text

Cold Tea (Calum Hood Smut)

Summary: (Y/N) is stressed about an assignment, so Calum brings her favorite beverage ( and snack 😉) (Smut / Fingering/ Mention of public sex/ Mention of unprotected sex) Inspired by @trulycevans story “Stressed” (loved the story, by the way. Go check it out, it is so fluffy) (Words: 1.9k)

The only sound echoing in the room has to be my fingers tapping on my laptop's keyboard and the clock ticking on the wall. It has been like that for the past 3 hours, since I came back from my little "break" to fill my coffee cup. My eyes are heavy from working in front of a screen for so many hours, so I blink rapidly, trying to give them a quick rest before continuing; god, I wish I knew how to touch-type, so I didn't have to look at the screen. "Everything going a-ok, bub?" Calum asks as he peaks through the door. I turn my head to look at him, my face grumpy and lips pouty while he is smiling softly at me. He walks in, clad in his comfy sweats and a black tank top, holding a cup with steaming liquid inside. "Did you bring me coffee?" I ask, perking up a little as I can practically feel the taste of fresh coffee in my mouth. "Something better. Herbal tea." He cheers in excitement, leaning down to leave a kiss in the curve between my neck and shoulder while he places the mug in front of me. "Herbal tea?" I ask repulsed. There is soft tapping on the floor, so I assume that Duke decided to follow his pop in the room. "You need to relax a bit. You are overly caffeinated so your brain is stuck. Herbal tea will make you feel more productive." He explains, resting his chin on my shoulder. "You are smart for a total hottie..." I mumble, rolling my eyes as I pick up the mug to take a sip, blowing on the surface of the tea before it touches my lips. "How is it going?" He asks me, planting a kiss on my jawline. "It is not going." I announce, sighing in despair. Calum moves my hair on one shoulder, bringing his arms to wrap around me. "Maybe it is time for a break. Stretch a bit, fix your posture, tie your hair up. Maybe cuddle Duke a bit, he is like a fluffy stress-ball." He suggests, using his soothing voice. "I am so tensed..." I groan, causing Calum to bring his hands on my shoulders, kneading on my skin as I relax back on my chair. He moves upwards, focusing now on my neck.

"You have a knot in there." He comments, pressing his thumbs on it. "I know. It has been killing me for hours now." I pout, moving my head from side to side. I feel chills rising on my skin as he brings his thumbs all the way up to the base of my head. A moan escapes my lips, which amuses Calum. "And to think I am not even touching you in that way..." He teases me, pressing a kiss on my forehead. "Hush, asshole. I am sore." I giggle, feeling ticklish as his hands travel low on my back. "Mmm, there..." I gasp as he finds the spot on the dip of my back. I arch my back and throw my head back; fuck, he has magical fingers, in every possible way. "Have I told you your tits look great?" He asks, making me bite my bottom lip. "You have... Stop starring at my tits, you creep." I huff. "Not my fault you have the prettiest tits I have seen..." He replies. "Get up and have a stretch. You'll feel a thousand times better." He pats my back, rolling my chair away from the desk to let me get up from it.

Calum leans against the desk as I bend to touch my toes, making my spine pop. I arch my back, trying to crack my back. Calum clears his throat, making me turn my head to him. "Everything alright?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow at him. "Why do you look so sexy, even when you are so tired?" He asks, grabbing me by my waist and pulling me close to his body. "Cal, I stink. My eyes are decorated with eye bags, and my face is dull, my hair is messy and I am wearing leggings. Where is the sexy in that?" I ask him, and he hums, throwing me a side smirk. "Well, everything on you." He lingers above my lips, making me squirm at the intensity of the moment. He has the ability to turn every moment intimate. "You make me so hard, princess. Just looking at you makes me feel funny inside... Fuck... How did I ever get so lucky?" He asks, groaning softly. "You must have done something very nice in your life to end up with me." I giggle, resting my palms on his chest. "I have a way to get your mind to relax..." He licks his lips, lowering his hand to my ass. "I am curious to find what that might be..." I giggle, just as he squeezes my ass in his hands.

He turns me around, pressing his chest on my back as he assaults my neck with his lips. He is an expert at finding my sweetspots, and once he locates the one below my ear he starts nibbling on it with his teeth. I moan and blink rapidly, sinking in the sensation. "Feels good, baby?" He asks, flicking his tongue over the teeth marks on my neck. "So good..." I utter, while his hands slip in the waistband of my leggings, resting on my hips. I feel his boner pressing on my ass, my eyes shutting involuntarily as my mind flies to the dirtiest of thoughts. "I am going to fuck that writing block out of that pretty head of yours." He rasps, forcing me to bend over the desk. I gasp, smiling as I feel him lower my leggings. He leaves my panties in place, pushing his fingers inside them with a chuckle. "You got wet from my massage, princess?" He muses, sounding a little proud of his achievement. "You got hard from massaging me... Don't be cocky." I sass, a millisecond before he pushes two fingers inside me.

I have to bite my bottom lip to avoid giving him the satisfaction of assuring him how much I love his fingers banging inside my tight little hole. "Fuck me... You are tight, baby. Why are you so tight? I have been fucking you every day for nearly 2 years and you are still so tight..." He rasps, wrapping his arm across my chest and pulling me up, with my back against his chest. His hand wraps around my neck, fingers pressing roughly on my skin. His fingerpads are brushing against my spot, while his lips are now pressed on my temple. "Once you are done with this stupid assignment, I will pick you up and drag you to the shower. And then I am going to press you against the glass and fuck your pretty little hole until the glass shutters and our skin is wrinkly from the water. Maybe I will even set up a camera in front of the cabin, so you can take a look at how hot your tits look pressed against the glass like that..." He whispers in my ear, causing chills to run up my spine. "Remember the time we were on vacation? On that island, I don't remember the name of, somewhere in Italy? Remember we were on that beach, alone, and we had this ice bucket for our drinks? Hm, princess? Do you remember?" He asks me, taking my earlobe between his teeth. I nod my head, my eyes fluttering open and close as he moves his long digits inside me. "Remember what I did to you that day on the beach?" He asks me. I whimper, making Calum chuckle. "It's ok, princess. I'll remind you... I put 2 ice cubes inside you and every time the melting water spilled out of your hole and drenched your bikini, reaching your clit, you whimpered and jerked up... Oh, those cute little whimpers drove me insane... I was so hard for you that day... We fucked behind those rocks, and you were a moaning mess, we almost got caught... But you said it was the best orgasm of your life... Oh, I missed that... I want to take you back to that island in Italy, give you an even better orgasm..." He rasps; his breath sounds as caught up in his throat as mine. "I want to go back to Italy too... Please, take me there." I beg; I am not sure if by there I mean the island or my orgasm. "Or that time backstage of that concert in New York... 5 minutes before the show and you were riding my face... I could taste you in my mouth while I sang... There are so many pictures of me licking my lips during the show... Fuck, if people knew..." He murmurs, tightening the grip around my neck. "You know what we haven't done in a while?" He asks, the smirk that makes his lips curl showing in his voice. "What?" I ask, pressing my thighs together as I feel the knot in my stomach tighten. "I haven't rawed you in the backseat of my car in so long... I believe the last time was during our last road trip. We had a stop because you wanted to take pictures and it started raining. You were wearing that white t-shirt that got drenched and I could see your bra right through it. My fucking God, you were so hot. You stripped out of that t-shirt and stayed in that pink bra of yours... I couldn't keep my hands to myself. I filed you up with so much cum that day... I can't wait until we can hop in the car again. Definitely this weekend, we can go to the vineyard by that lake you like." He whispers. I tremble, his fingers inside, and all those dirty memories playing in my head leave me helpless against the orgasm bubbling up inside me. "I am going to cum." My voice breaks at the end, signaling my high is closer than I anticipated. "Yeah, baby? I couldn't tell by your pulsing pussy and your wetness running down my hand..." He mocks me. He pumps his fingers faster, making me arch my back and rest my head against his shoulder as I ride my high. "There it is..." Calum praises as I stir my hips to get more of that sensation of pure euphoria. It takes me at least five minutes before I am ready to go back to functioning. Calum takes his fingers out of my panties and I try to fix my clothes, with my hands still shaking.

"Is your head a little clearer?" Calum asks, with a grin playing on his lips. "I don't know. You will actually have to leave the room for me to be able to focus on anything else but the boner in your sweats..." I reply, taking a seat back in front of the desk again. "Alright... I'll go fix us a light dinner. I will see you in an hour when you will close your laptop for the night and join me and baby grandpa over there on the couch. And I promise, tomorrow I will wake you up bright and early so you can finish this." He pecks on my temple, making me sigh in defeat. "Fine, Hood. Maybe you are right..." I roll my eyes, before reaching for my mug of tea. I take a sip, only to wince at the taste of the tea. "Fuck... Now my tea is cold..." I pout, making Calum laugh. "Well, you can't have it all, baby..." He points out as he walks out of the room, followed by Duke.

My Masterlist

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cozycryptidcorner · 4 years

Photo

Oryfiel the Alien (Lemon)

So a thing I want to do with my patreon is submit one of the monthly smutty shorts I write for the $5 tier every six or so months just to give you guys a taste. This bad boy takes place in the same universe as Starfall, though this would take place significantly afterwards because you might recognize the aliens.

Oryfiel is, unfortunately, perfect.

Black, glossy hair that curls slightly at the top, always in a perfect shape even if he’s just rolled out of bed. Eyes that almost glow with a vibrant lavender in the early morning sun. A jawline that could cut through the hull of an explorer-class ship. He’s the kind of guy that would make a straight man say something like I’m not gay, but... and, unlike you, he somehow manages to finish the physical fitness test with barely a layer of sweat glistening on his skin, not even close to the shaking, panting mess you’re in. You’re almost embarrassed standing next to him when he’s flourishing while you’re about to vomit.

You’d think with your numb exhaustion, you’d be safe from his allure, but then he turns around and gives you a smile that makes your brainwaves fray.

“You look like a drowned rat that got hit by a speeder.” It takes you a moment to realize that he’s talking to you, which is probably a fair observation.

You let out a huffing breath, muttering, “I feel like a drowned rat that got hit by a speeder.”

He laughs, then, black, iridescent wings rippling with movement, and you try to keep the pleasant warmth from filling your chest. “I’m sure once you shower and stretch out, you’ll feel better.”

Even with the stretching, you’re going to be sore, you can feel it. Wiping the area around your mouth free of sweat with the tip of your shirt, you shrug noncommittedly, eyeing the fitness trainer with suspicion and contempt. They wave back, completely oblivious to your spiteful hatred.

“And I bet I could make you feel even better.”

You’re so focused on coming up with a way to skip out on the next physical fitness test that it takes you a moment to fully process what Oryfiel said, but when you do, you almost trip over the sidewalk crack. “I’m sorry, I think I heard you wrong.”

“I said that I could help you unwind,” he says, keeping his same, casual pace, only looking over to gauge your reaction.

You’re caught off guard because Oryfiel hasn’t seen you as his usual conquest material, so he’s never tried coming onto you. The fact he is makes you suspicious as to why, though the other part of you is drooling over the fact that he wants to be your shower buddy. “I don’t think I’d have the energy to offer you anything in return.”

“I won’t be particularly bothered by that.” He shrugs, and you’re not sure how to respond to that.

He’s not a relationship kind of male, but, then again, you’re only two months off from graduation, when you’ll both finally receive ship assignment, so it’s not like you’re open to that prospect, either. And you could use a destresser. Even though you would call your “friendship” with Oryfiel a tad bit rocky, again, his body is easy on the eyes, and if the rumors surrounding him is any sort of hint, he’s good. Not amazing, but good enough to be worth it.

So you shrug. “If you’re down for it…”

His smile almost melts your face off. “Last shower stall, no one ever ventures that far unless-”

“Unless they’re fucking, I know.” You’re not so innocent yourself, four years of training is a long time to go without some experience.

“Don’t tell me we’ve done this before.” He opens the door to the dormitories, the blissful touch of air conditioning washing over your body.

“I have, but not with you.”

Oryfiel’s expression goes blank for a moment, you don’t know him well enough to tell if it’s a positive or negative thing. “Huh, didn’t really expect that.”

“The fact I enjoy sex?” You keep your voice down, though there’s not a lot of people to overhear the conversation.

“Well, maybe, but mostly no,” he gives you a cocky grin that you almost want to slap off, “didn’t peg you as the kind of girl who’d do it in the shower stalls, you seem so… vanilla. Like you’d pick out someone specifically with a private room and do missionary twice before falling asleep.”

“I’ll peg you if you don’t stop,” you mutter.

“Is that a promise?” He, unfortunately, sounds thrilled at the prospect.

“Guess you’ll have to see,” you respond, throwing the door to the locker room open. It’s a long, long room, unisex, the showers on the far end, separation walls tall enough to almost reach the ceiling. There aren’t too many people in here, already, and only one of them gives you the congrats on getting fucked look, eyebrows arched, with a slight nod, and almost smiling.

Oryfiel’s hands are on your hips, you have to fight your way over to the end stall as he pulls at the drawstrings of your exercise shorts. Once the door is shut and locked, you’re viciously pulling at his own clothes, finding the simple fitness clothing easy to remove. His mouth is on yours, already nibbling at your lower lip, the fierceness of his movement almost enough to drown you. He’s already gotten your shirt off, though you need to help him with your sports bra, his mouth making a trail down from your neck to your collarbone.

He’s merciless, like he’s wanted to do this for some time, as if he’s afraid at any moment you’ll push him away. His fangs gently graze the skin just above your breast, his breath hot, and your nipples stand on end in anticipation. A ripple of pleasure runs through your nerves as he kisses one of your breasts, and you almost moan, hand reaching over for the handle of the shower to cover up the ungodly mess of noises that will be erupting from your mouth.

Big mistake, because the water comes out ice cold. You shriek, then laugh, the hairs on your arm standing straight up for a much different reason now. To his credit, Oryfiel is also amused, and he pushes you up against the wall to avoid the freezing spray, his chest warm against yours. As the water slowly becomes hot, the kisses continue, leisurely at first, though quickly picking up pace, his mouth trailing back down to address some unfinished business.

His wraps around one of your nipples, and he begins to suck. It’s been so long for you that you just about melt into a goddamn puddle, and the way his tongue moves against the sensitive flesh doesn’t help matters. Your fingers grasp at the smooth metal of the stall for some sort of semblance of reality to focus on, but you can’t seem to find something to anchor yourself to. Swiftly, he moves onto the other nipple, his hand making its way down south, the pad of his thumb working your slit in an experimental touch.

“Spread your legs more.” His voice is as strained as his cock, and he presses a few hasty kisses on your mouth and cheek as you do as he says, lifting one of your legs up and wrapping it around his waist. Wasting no time, his fingers return, two this time, rubbing up and down almost miserably slow. You let out a frustrated his of breath and try to grind against him, but he smiles a wicked grin, almost smug at the tizzy he’s put you into so soon.

You grip both his shoulders, arch your eyebrows, and push down. He doesn’t offer any sort of fight, quickly getting onto his knees, moving your leg onto his shoulder, water from the showerhead spout soaking his hair. Still, he takes his time, pressing a few, slow kisses on your pelvis, sucking a myriad of hickeys to mark his territory. Tomorrow you’ll probably whack him for it, but now? The feeling of his hot mouth around your skin, so, so close to your core? You can only let out a lusty whine.

He has the audacity to chuckle at your disheveled state, mouth in a devious grin, before his tongue lashes out against your pussy, once, twice, thrice. You want to throttle him to hurry it up, but before you can do anything, he kisses your puckered skin and your core is singing. Leaning your head back and letting out a whimpering sigh, you curl your fingers around his hair, the feathers of his wings slowly rippling as he watches, eyes burning.

For all his faults, he is skilled in this particular area. You’re glad for the water because you wouldn’t want him to see the tears forming in your eyes this soon, but you have a feeling by the smug look on his face that he somehow knows. He licks and laps, moving up and down, to the left, to the right, mercilessly, you’re fucking putty against his mouth, your knee buckling under the pressure. It’s a miracle he somehow managed to keep you from sliding onto the shower floor, you’re putting all your weight on him, yet he seems completely unbothered.

He kisses your clit, then takes the bud between his lips and sucks. You almost scream, because you’re so fucking close already, and you don’t want to come yet, not this soon. So you push at him, shoving him away, almost entirely overtaken by the need to feel him inside you, all the way. He looks confused for a moment, maybe even shocked, but you grab for him, using both hands to grasp at either side of his face.

“I need you to fucking rail me against this wall,” you hiss, glad for the sound of the spray to keep anyone else from hearing the demand.

A look of pure elation crosses over his face, as though he had been waiting for you to say those pretty words to him, and he stands, wings fluttering against the water. He kisses you again, this time on the mouth, so fiercely that your teeth clack together, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from his torrent of lust. It’s like something has overtaken him, he raises your legs around his waist, and you help him push inside your core, eyes crazed, breathing wild. When he thrusts, it’s almost jarring, your steady build of pleasure screeching to an unfamiliar stop when the tactics change, but he’s slow, steady, letting you get used to being filled.

“You’re beautiful,” he says, voice unsteady with what you assume is the pleasure of his cock being engulfed.

”You’re beautiful,” you counter breathlessly, finding the cold metal of the shower wall the only reprieve from the frantic heat of this union.

“Mm,” there’s something he wants to say, but you can see the hesitation in his eyes. Before you can question it, though, he’s picking up speed, pumping in and out with an almost crazed expression.

You can only lean back and take it, this relentless fucking, because that’s exactly what you signed up for. Oryfiel drinks up every whimper, whine, and sob, kissing your face as he brings you closer and closer to climax, straining with the effort to keep you both upright. Then you cum, and you are almost overtaken by the quivering pulsing through your core and outward to the rest of your body. You wrap your arms around his neck and sob, barely able to hold onto your sanity as he continues to pound into you, with no sign of stopping until he’s had his fair share.

When he cums, he moans so deliciously in your ear, the aftershocks of your own climax still tightening in your core. You kiss him on the side of his mouth as he lets out a soft, satisfied sigh, placing both feet back on the ground as he slumps unsteadily. Water trails down his skin, black hair sticking framing his face, his eyes almost glowing with euphoria, and he looks like a goddamn angel.

Maybe you thought he would immediately release you once the original business is done. Still, he seems to want to savor the moment, his closeness offering a different kind of satisfaction. He brings his hands up onto your shoulders, pressing lips against yours in soft, lazy movements, and you let yourself drown in him.

“Do you-” he hesitates, then asks, “do you want to do this again sometime?”

#alien/reader #alien/human #exophilia #monster lovers #alien lovers #alien romance #alien x reader

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lixie-lovie · 4 years

Text

{ Mysterious Stranger | Skz }

h.hyunjin x Reader

Chapter 1: The Letter

Genre: Dark!au, Thriller-ish, Fantasy!au

Warnings: Small mention of blood, but otherwise none!

Word Count: 2.3k

Note: I am kinda sorta really excited about writing this story and although this is only the first chapter I hope whoever reads this enjoys! Not a very long chapter, but I should be posting more regularly! (hopefully lol) This is definitely different to anything I have ever worked on, so feedback is super appreciated! <3

Chapter Song: d.r.e.a.m. - ab6ix

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I came rushing down the stairway into the subway stumbling over my own feet in the low light. I was trying hard not to drop the bags of groceries I was carrying and also not miss my train. Breathing heavy, I took a quick moment to stop at the bottom of the stairs to listen intently for the incoming train. I quickly brushed my hair out of my face with my one free hand as I looked around and took in my surroundings. I noticed there was only one other person seemingly waiting for this late night train ride. As I slowly shuffled my heavy bag higher on my hip I felt my brow start to sweat even though the chill of the night air was enough to fog my breath as my breathing became shallow. I felt my eyes unconsciously glancing back at the tall man shrouded in darkness a few times only to notice him already facing my direction.

Strange, I thought as he wasn’t looking towards the train or even the clock on the far wall. Rather, I could almost make out a dull glow coming from the piercing eyes glaring in my direction from under the man's black hood. It felt as though his stare could cut me in half. By now I was too aware of how slowly the time was moving and how vulnerable I must seem in such a hurry with so many things preoccupying my hands. I began to shuffle my feet nervously and grip the straps of my bags tighter. My eyes darted to the clock, the mysterious stranger, and then the nearest exit repeating this pattern more times than I could count. I knew I couldn’t run, I had nowhere to go and no time to wait for another train. My mother was poor and sick and needed these groceries and the medicine I had picked up only minutes before running my way into this predicament. I found my thoughts drifting as I locked eyes with the man. There suddenly was a rumbling moving through the heels of my feet that rattled the key-chains connected to my bag, startling me to notice the train was quickly approaching. This notified me that I would have to find a way past this wall of a man.

As the light from the train rounded the corner, my eyes darted swiftly back to the man and noted the sleek, black line of ink spreading from under his right eye down his cheek and under the collar of his blank, torn black hoodie. He removed his hands from his pockets and just before the doors to the train opened I saw a glint of light reflect off of something in his hand. Something metal, I concluded as I took swift steps in a wide arch to reach the doors of the train as they opened for me, hopefully welcoming me to their grimy state and the undeniable safety of other people. My heels clicked loudly in my ears as my breathing became labored and I could feel the bread in my grocery bag slowly mushing between the tightened grip of my freezing fingertips. Just as I approached the door to the train I heard a loud ring and they opened for me, welcoming me to the few straggling, tired people occupying the area. Then, suddenly, I felt a rough, calloused hand wrap around my delicate wrist, pulling me roughly backwards. I gasped harshly and spun around only to be face to face with the man himself. His hood was down and his long, blonde hair stood out in the dim train light and my eyes went wide as I felt something cold and metallic be pressed harshly into my palm.

“It all starts now.” The man said in a gruff, tense voice as he released my wrist and pushed me harshly through the now closing train doors. I looked down as I saw his hood quickly fly back over his head and his body seemingly disappear into the shadows. My eyes darted down to the object in my grip and in my hand sat a dagger. A small and intricate dagger that was sharp enough that just from my rough grip a small line of blood from my palm was now sitting upon its blade. I noticed an engraving on the hilt of the blade, the same words the strange man had uttered to me before and got lost in thought while looking at the way my reflection was looking back at me in the polished silver metal shining in my hand. DING! Suddenly, we were stopping again and my mothers face flashed in my mind as I cursed to myself lowly and slipped the blade into the pocket of my bag while rushing to my mothers. Sadly, now I was late and unable to rid myself of the curiosity handed to me just moments prior.

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All I could hear over the bustling traffic while crossing the street to my mother’s tiny, antique apartment was the deep thrumming of my own heightened heartbeat and the sound of my feet pounding on the pavement as I rushed, already late to bring my mother the things I had gotten from the store.

I slowed my pace as I approached the door and quickly began rummaging through my bag looking for the spare key. As I was continuing my search I allowed my thoughts to drift back to the man I had just encountered and the odd experience, wondering if the situation had even occurred or was just a figment of the imagination of my overworked and tired mind. As my hands fumbled around until they found the next pocket on my bag I bit my lip in anticipation of getting a glimpse of the strange dagger again. Once my hand felt the dagger, still lying on it’s side, gleaming in the dim blue-ish light of the streetlamp behind me I let out a breath of relief. I then realized the keys were lying with the dagger and quickly reached for them. As I finally grasped the cool metal key between my fingertips there was a sudden crash that sounded from inside the apartment. I whipped my head up at the unexpected commotion and rushed to get the door unlocked.

My hands shook as I turned the ornate silver handle. I took a few cautious steps into the house and called out to my mother. When there was no response I began moving more hastily, ducking my head into every doorway possible looking for my mother. I finally reached the living room last. My movements became more and more rushed the longer I couldn’t find my mother. That was, until I took my first few steps into the living room only to hear a sharp cracking noise come from under my feet. I quickly looked to the floor as I heard more scraping and crackling coming from the movement of my shoes. “Broken glass?” I questioned no one in particular, “What the hell?”

My eyes slowly trailed up the length of the floor in front of me as I noted that the whole floor was littered with broken glass. I called out for my mother as I quickly began to take hurried, albeit significantly lighter, steps forward until I noticed the large window, that used to rest peacefully on the far side of the room, shattered. All that was left of the once protection from the outside were a few dangling, cracked pieces of the weathered glass and the now torn white curtains flowing from the chilly breeze outside. I gasped and rushed to the window to inspect, but when I looked around there was nothing unusual to take in besides the window itself. I then turned to quickly search the room for what could have caused the shattering of the window or a clue as to where my sickly mother could be. It wasn’t until I found myself approaching my mother’s rocking chair that I really noticed something off.

There, on the old, worn wooden chair, slowly rocking in the wind, sat a fairly small eggshell white envelope with a blood red wax seal pressing it closed. I furrowed my brow as I reached out to examine it, but as I scanned the chair again in the closer proximity I noticed the small trail of bloody fingerprints, still wet. I gasped harshly and looked over my shoulder quickly before grabbing the envelope and turning to pull my phone out of my bag. I quickly searched for the right person’s contact and dialed. Pressing the phone to my ear, I swiftly did another sweep of the house to make sure there was nothing I missed and made a b-line for the front door. As I made it out of the house the person on the other end finally picked up.

“Seungmin! Thank you for picking up.” I breathed out, relieved. “I need you to come pick me up. Something’s happened.”

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An hour later I was seated at my favorite late night diner fiddling with the straw of my vanilla milkshake while Seungmin was tiredly rubbing his eyes talking to the grandmotherly waitress with the white hair and kind smile that had known us both since our first visit here around the age of six. Seungmin was still in his too large white t-shirt and blue and grey checkered pajama pants with more than averagely fluffy hair from being woken up after working a long shift this weekend. I had never seen Seungmin at work, but I knew whatever the job was it had to be tiring as he was always working long shifts at random hours and constantly had new bumps and bruises that he rarely ever told me about unless I asked. He said he does odd jobs for different contractors and I never had the heart seeing his too tired face to question it much.

Because of the unknowns of his work and his constant sleeping when he was off, it had become mutually known that I wouldn’t be the one to contact him unless the situation is dire. On a normal occasion he would send me one text to let me know he was alive, I would respond asking if he needs groceries again, and his next message would be hours or days later once he had rested and received word of his next job to let me know when he was free to take me to lunch and then scurry off to at each new opportunity. However, recently those unprompted lunch dates have been slim to none, as have his days off, so he came quickly to my call, knowing it must be something extremely important if I would willingly ask him to be out of bed on a day off.

He smiled at me softly for a moment before turning to yawn into his hand while using his free one to make a small circular motion towards me that I interpreted as “go on, tell me what’s wrong.” At this, I sighed deeply and reached down by my ankle to grab my discarded bag. I pondered for a moment on telling him about the experience with the man at the subway station, but my pressing anxieties and worries about my mother spurred me to grab the letter, not the dagger, to hurriedly pull out. I flipped it over in my hands under the table for a moment while explaining what occurred at my mother’s house up until finding the chair. As I got to explaining what I found Seungmin was seemingly no longer tired and instead shoveling his food into his mouth swiftly while looking past me, seemingly in thought with the way his brows furrowed deeply. My gaze became more concerned as I raked my eyes over his face and I bit my lip as I pulled the envelope containing the letter out for him to see. As I handed it to him I noticed his hands were shaking and I assumed it was for the same reason as mine, out of worry for my mother. He swiftly opened the envelope and read the big bold letters printed there. Then, more surprisingly, his eyes drifted back to the envelope itself as he quickly drew it back towards his face before turning it over. Upon notice of the ornate wax seal that sat there he gasped and threw his hands down against the table, rattling the silverware and dishes loudly and jarring me out of my curious state, making me yelp softly. He then moved his gaze to bore into mine before saying something that left me further confused.

“We have to go. Now. They know where you are.” He said this soft and sternly, whipping his head around to see who else was in the diner. I don’t remember anyone but us entering or leaving. He grabbed my bag quickly, shoving the envelope inside before throwing some money onto the table, leaving a little extra tip (so kind even in such a panic, I noted). He then reached for my wrist and began to pull me towards the exit. In such a panicked and hurried state I didn’t dare defy him and only tried my best to keep up with his quick pace. However, the concern and rising uneasiness in my chest didn’t stop my head from turning ever so slightly to eye whoever might have been dining with us so late tonight. What I saw left me gasping harshly for air and stumbling over my feet to try and remain balanced.

Sitting there, staring right into my eyes, in the same outfit I had seen him in before was the man. The mysterious stranger. He sat silently with his black hood resting over his head twirling a blade much like the one lying in the beat up bag on Seungmin’s shoulder and as Seungmin was rounding the corner, with me in tow, I thought I had caught a flash of teeth, what could have been a grimace or a smile.

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#stray kids #skz #hyunjinau #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #seungmin #dangerous!au #mysterious stranger #straykids x reader #thrillerau #chapter 01 #erika posting again? never heard of her lol #my finger slipped oops

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prettyguardiankore-blog · 3 years

Text

Their Return (Levi x Fem!Reader)

Chapter 9

(updated completely on my ao3!)

… 47 ... 48 ... 49… . .50! You let out a labored exhale as you collapsed onto the floor, muscles aching. You used to be able to pump out 100 like nothing, and now, it took you twice as long, and you could barely muster 50. This decided it. You were going to start training again. It unnerved you knowing you were this weak. You groaned as you slowly pulled yourself up from the ground, wincing slightly as your muscles pulled. You glanced down at your chest. Boob sweat. Nice. You reached over to the bench for your towel and began wiping yourself down.

They had left in the morning. You hadn’t slept much, and after a restless slumber, you woke up and peered out of your window, to see a flurry of Scouts pouring out of the castle's main gate. It had been raining.

📷

Most of your morning had consisted of you curled up under your covers, desperately trying to return to sleep, so you wouldn’t think about the expedition. Although, it quickly became evident it wouldn’t work- being in your room doing absolutely nothing was a more tortuous task than you’d anticipated. After realizing that being alone with your thoughts wouldn't do, you began to pack your morning with anything and everything you could to pass the time. So far you’d updated the library catalog, dusted the shelves, helped the cooks clean the kitchen (a task that had earned you a small basket of fruits, which you graciously accepted.), and watered some plants. Hell, you’d even cleaned your room, the filthy mess it was. And now you’d just finished a workout. You looked at your watch. It’d been about two hours since you’d come into the training room. That should be good for today, you decided, so you gave yourself one last wipe down before shutting the door, and heading back to your room.

You needed a shower. You stunk, bad. As you entered your room, you marveled once again in how spacious the floor actually was when it wasn’t covered in shit, and headed to the bathroom, removing your sticky sports bra and exercise shorts, and popping yourself into the cool water. They should be returning soon, you thought, as you scrubbed your scalp. Occupying yourself with busywork hadn’t actually done much to calm your nerves, it only distracted you. All day you’d been thinking about them. How many of them would return? If any of them would return... You felt a lump rising in your throat as you clasped your hand over your lips to stop their trembling. You’d never been so emotional. Hange and Moblit had gone on plenty of expeditions, so why were all these fears resurfacing now? You shut off the water and stepped out of the shower to begin getting ready. It was probably because of Furlan. Your chest grew heavy as you replayed through your own memories. The last conversation I had with him reminded me so much of her … you slapped your cheeks. Stop projecting. It wasn’t fair to Furlan or Marla, and it certainly wasn’t doing your mental wellbeing any justice. You sighed, and returned your attention to getting ready. You didn’t want to take too long, so you put your hair up as quickly as you could, threw on a simple sundress your mother had sewn for you ages ago, and headed out the door. You couldn’t wait any longer, and they should be arriving back soon.

You decided to just wait at the top of the tower until you saw them entering Wall Rose. You’d done basically everything you could to pass the time at this point, so all there was left to do was to wait. You stepped up the narrow stairs, and popped into the area. ★Cold air immediately hit your face, and you shivered. I should’ve brought a jacket, you grimaced, rubbing your arms. You’d forgotten how cold it could get up there. You perched yourself onto the wall's edge and peered down below. Everything looked so small from up there.

Jump off.

You blinked, before slowly removing yourself from the edge. Let’s not get into that right now. ★ You stared mindlessly out into the city, until eventually, you noticed something.

📷

You stared out near the gate. You couldn’t see much, but at the very least from where you stood, you could make out a large group of people accumulated near the entrance. You twiddled your thumbs nervously together. It would be around half an hour before they made it back to the castle. So now you had to wait again. You groaned, and slumped your forehead into your palms. You almost wished you hadn’t seen them enter the wall, because now your restlessness had increased tenfold. So you just stood there, eyes closed tightly shut, waiting. The wind brushed against your face. I wonder if the wind is whistling right now. After what seemed like years, you shot a glance over the wall. Your eyes widened. They were back. You shot up and bolted over the door and began running through the castle. All the pent up energy you’d accumulated throughout the day was bursting out of you as you rushed out to go wait by the main gate. You didn’t want to actually talk to them, aside from Hange, most soldiers weren’t very chatty upon their return, rightfully so. So you weren’t entirely sure how you’d go about checking up on everyone without being annoying. Eventually, you settled on waiting by a pillar. When you spot Hange, you’d pull them from the crowd, and ask them how it went. So that’s what you did. You hid yourself behind the tall stone pillar, peeking out from behind it. You squinted your eyes. You couldn’t see them at all. Come on, where are they? You thought, chewing your lip pensively. As you scanned the crowd, you suddenly felt someone grab your sides from behind, and you jumped about a foot into the air, before quickly turning around. You were met with Hange grinning at you, and Moblit standing to their left, shooting you an apologetic look.

You shot a look back to the crowd, and then back to the, jaw dropped open.“H-How did you-”

“You’re not slick you know. Everyone could totally see you.”

“I wasn’t trying to- Well- ”

You didn’t know where you were going with that, so you clamped your mouth shut. You looked back at them, and you realized something. They were standing right in front of you. They weren’t corpses left behind, or being carried on the wagon. There was no one else standing in front of you, telling you with an averted gaze that they didn’t make it. They were right here. Tears began forming in your eyes.

“Oh dear! You’re crying? What’s been up with you recently? Are you going through puberty again?” they chuckled.

“Hange, don’t tease her.” Moblit scolded lightly, before turning back to you, and giving you a kind, but tired smile. He reached over and gently pat your head. “Don’t worry, we’re back.”

You nodded, clenching your jaw tightly to prevent your entire face from trembling.

“Ah, you're just like a little kid.” they smiled pulling you in for a hug. You weren’t big on physical affection, but as they held you, you found yourself craving their touch, and furrowed yourself deeper into their embrace, closing your eyes. A strange warm feeling was blossoming in your chest. It was lovely.

Suddenly you felt another warm feeling in your body, but this wasn’t the feeling of love. It was the feeling of embarrassment. That didn’t take long. You’d come over blubbering like a baby, and had collapsed into their arms. They were probably tired from the expedition, and you were just giving them more to worry about. At once, you felt very uncomfortable. You slowly pulled yourself from their arms and stood, back straight, clearing your throat.

“Sorry. Maybe I am going through puberty again. That would explain a lot.” you chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it.” they said gently. You nodded bashfully. ”How did it go?” you asked.

“Well, we did fine.” they said, turning back to Moblit. “But the rain was really horrible. That, in combination with the new formations we weren’t as familiar with... resulted in a lot of us getting separated. We were fine, but I don’t know about everyone else.” they said, frowning.

“At the very least, we're all accounted for. No one's missing.” Moblit chimed in.

“I see. Well, I’m glad you two are okay.” you said, softly. “Really glad.”

“We could tell.” they teased. You shot them an annoyed look, and cleared your throat.

“By the way, have you seen Levi’s squad at all?” you asked, turning to face Moblit. He looked up, thinking.

“I haven’t. Because we got separated, we ended up turning back at different times. I think we were the last group.” He said, with a shrug. “But they should be back in their barracks at this point, if you want to go check up on them.”

You fiddled with your dress, and shot your eyes down to your feet. You were finally about to find out what happened to them. It was strange. As much as you wanted to rush over and check on them, the ever looming possibility of some of them not being there also made you want to lock yourself away in your room and never come out. But you were going to have to find out eventually, and waiting if you waited any longer you might die from the stress.

“Thank you, Moblit.”

“Mhm.”

You said your goodbyes and thank yous to the two of them, and headed to the barracks. Once you reached the entrance gate, you stopped. The anxiety brewing in your chest left your skin feeling prickly. You clenched your fists. You can do this.

You took a deep breath and began a skittish walk to the barracks, until you found yourself at their room, your hand hovering over the door, preparing to knock. But your hand never moved. You stood frozen, the world still around you, all while your mind was screaming at you to take action. Just do it. Then, you felt someone tap on your shoulder, abruptly pulling you from your trance. You whipped your head back. Levi stood behind you, eyes downcast and sullen. Upon seeing his expression, you felt your nerves go through the roof. He’s alone, you noted, chewing your lip. No, no, that doesn’t mean anything. They might still be at the stables. Isabel really loved that horse. During your writing lessons, she’d often get distracted, and ever since she was assigned that horse, it’s all she would talk about, gushing about the animal until you gently reminded her why she was with you. You swallowed, before mustering out something to say.

“H-how did the expedition go? I heard you guys got separated.”

He said nothing. His silence brought an inescapable feeling of dread washing over your body. You hadn’t wanted to ask this right from get go. But you couldn’t keep it in.

“Where are Isabel and Furlan?” you asked, quietly. He flicked his gaze back to look at you, eyes widening, before casting his eyes back down to the floor.

Your heart dropped to the pit of your stomach. You knew exactly what that look meant. You’d seen it countless times. You took a shaking breath, and tears began dripping out of your eyes. They’d died out there. And they’d died in the most horrendous way possible. They had so much life in them, and it had been torn away. Their last moments had been filled with absolute terror. You brought your hands to cover your face. You thought you could prepare yourself mentally for bad news. How naive. Isabel was so young, and she had barely set out to see the world. Furlan, he definitely had feelings for you. It was something you chose to ignore because you weren’t sure how to deal with it. But, could you have been happy together? Could you have really loved each other? Were all your potential lovers simply doomed to die? These questions felt all too familiar.

But you were not the one hurting the most right now.

You slowly pulled your face from your hands to look at Levi. He looked devastated. His jaw was clenched stiffly shut, eyes dead set on his shoes, He couldn’t meet your eye. Your heart ached at the sight, but you couldn’t think of anything you could do to help him. Nothing you could say could alleviate the pain, and even if it could, you didn’t know that you had the strength in you to say it. You swallowed down the lump in your throat, and finally said something.

“Levi, I am so sorry.” you murmured.

You reached out your arms, and pulled him into your chest. Maybe you should’ve asked first, but you didn’t know if you could successfully get any words out without beginning to cry. So you just held him in your arms. You held your breath. He felt stiff, but eventually, you felt him relax in your arms, and you let out a quivering breath as you exhaled. Your eyes widened as you felt his arms slowly reach up behind your back, returning the embrace.

The two of you held each other. Your shaky breaths had turned into a torrent of quiet sobs as you held him in your arms. Your mind raced over what you could’ve done to prevent this outcome, but you came up with nothing. You thought reaching this conclusion would provide you with some sense of acceptance, but it only deepened the sorrow in your heart. There was absolutely nothing you could’ve done to prevent this, and that was the most frustrating thing in the world. How ironic, you’d reached out to comfort him, but you were the only one crying. After a while, you felt something land on your head, but you dismissed it. But then you felt another, then another, so you decided to pull away and look up at the sky. It was raining again. Fucking great.

“What the hell is up with the weather today?” you sniffled. “It’s totally erratic.” you said, looking back down to meet his eyes.

They looked glassy now, but you decided not to bring it up. He didn’t say anything. Maybe he just wanted to be left by himself, you would understand if he did. But before you left him on his own, you wanted to reach out one last time. Maybe some company would comfort him before he returned to his room, alone. Should I offer him some tea? You shivered, rubbing your arms. It was freezing. Might as well try it.

“W-would you want to grab some tea before you went to sleep?”

“Hold on.”

You raised your brow as he walked into his room, shutting the door in your face, and he soon came out, throwing something at you. You flinched as you aimlessly grabbed at the air, to catch whatever he threw at you, and you realized it was a piece of clothing, you held it up, and saw it was the same jacket he'd been wearing the first time you’d met. You gave him a confused look.

“A thin sundress doesn’t do much for the rain.”

“Ah, I suppose you’re right.” you said, shimmying your arms into the sleeves. Wasn’t quite your size, but it’d do.

“Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

The two of you began walking over to the castle in silence. Thankfully, but not unsurprisingly, there were no annoying guards to pester you on your way there. The heaviness and guilt in your heart hadn’t wavered, but you’d gotten out all your tears, or at least the tears you were willing to spill in front of other people. You soon arrived in the kitchen, and you immediately set to make the tea. Usually the silence would be unbearable, but both of you had far too much on your mind to even notice. Besides, you hadn’t invited him to chat, you only wanted to keep him from being alone for the rest of the evening. You filled the pot with water, placed it on the stove and sat down next to Levi at the table. You were staring out blankly into the air in front of you until you felt him tap on your shoulder, and you turned to his lips.

“How do you deal with this?”

You stopped for a moment to think about how to answer. You probably weren’t the person to ask.

“As I think you noticed a couple days ago, not in the best ways.”

“...How aren’t you angry?”

“I was, I-I mean, I still am, to be honest. The only thing that really changed is that I grew tired...It’s tiring being so angry every single day, “ you paused. “I don’t know if I told you this, or maybe Hange mentioned it, the blabbermouth they are, but during my recovery days, I was very rowdy… I feel so bad for those poor nurses. I had multiple broken ribs, some internal bleeding in my stomach, and to top it all off, I couldn’t hear a thing, but every day, I still tried to sneak out of the hospital, I hated being confined to bed.” you explained, fiddling your fingers together. “This sort of behavior only grew when they told me that more likely than not I wouldn’t be able to serve. I felt like I had to prove my competence to them, so I was sneaking off to the training fields at night. Eventually, they had to restrain me to my bed.”

“Doesn’t sound like you.”

“I’ve changed quite a bit since then, probably for the better. But anyways, about your question, eventually, I realized that my anger had no real direction. I was mad at myself, for not being quick enough. I was mad at Marla, for not listening to our Captain's orders, I was mad at my Captain, for picking us to go back and kill that crazy abnormal, and I was mad at the titans. I even attacked Hange at one point. I quickly lost, considering it took all I had to stand properly.” you said, feeling your face heating up at the memory. “But there was nothing I could do. So eventually my anger waned off, and was replaced with self loathing.”

You stopped to think, staring mindlessly at your hands, folded neatly on your lap.

“But it’s still there, I know that much… but you know, it’s not all bad. I’ve realized that since then the only thing I can do is grow for the better. I only slip when I allow myself to, and that’s fine as long as I can recover the next day.. And I still have people that care about me.” you noted. The faces of Hange and Moblit flashed through your mind. “...And the ones that are no longer here to care for me, I have to act right for them. I don’t want them to be disappointed or sad as they look down on me. I have to live on properly for them.”

You felt the tears welling up in your eyes, and the heavy feeling in your chest reappeared.

“I-I don’t know if any of that was helpful...but that’s my experience with it.”

You looked back to face him. He looked at you with distant eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he did, his eyes flicked over to the stove behind you, and he shut his mouth, pointed a finger at it.

“It’s boiling.”

“O-oh okay. I’ll get that.” you said, leaping off from your seat to the stove. You set it down on the counter to allow it to cool, and opened the cabinet, reaching in for the tea cans.

“Green or black?”

“Green, please.”

You nodded, and set some cups out to steep, before placing yourself back on the seat next to him.

“I’m going to continue on the expeditions.”

You nodded.

“I don’t know what's in store for me in the future, but I’ve decided on one thing. I’m not going to live the rest of my life in regret of this decision.” He swallowed, clasping his hands tightly in front of him. “I’m going to live on, dedicating my whole life to this cause.”

You stared at him. What he was saying sounded noble, but you couldn’t help but be worried. It somehow seemed like a self destructive mindset. You took a long sip from your tea, and stared down into the glistening liquid. You were scared. You’d told him that things got better, but how much of that did you actually believe yourself? It took every ounce of your power not to burst into tears where you sat and cry for hours. You felt a lump in your throat, and swallowed.

“It’s most important to live for yourself. Just remember that.” you said, softly.

“You too.”

“Huh?”

“You shouldn’t be happy just because of the wishes of others. You should be happy because you are.”

You blinked at him, before staring back into your mug.

“I guess I was being sort of hypocritical, huh?”

The two of you sat there in silence for a while, slowly sipping away at your tea, until eventually, your cups were empty. You reached into your pocket for your watch. It was late now. You turned back to face him.

“We should probably get out of here.” you said, pulling yourself up from the chair. You reached out your hand. “I’ll take your cup.” you offered. He took one last, long sip before placing the cup in your hand, and getting himself up. You placed them gingerly in the sink, and the two of you left the kitchen. You walked in silence down the hallway, until you reached the point where you had to separate.

“Well, I need to get going.” you said. He didn’t say anything in response. You chewed your lip, unsure if you should say more, or just leave. Eventually, you placed your hand on his shoulder, giving him a weary smile.

“Get some rest, Levi.” you told him.

“Thank you for talking with me.”

“Of course.”

You began walking in the opposite direction, back to your room. As you pulled open the entrance to the next hallway, you shot a glance behind your shoulder. He was gone. You continued through the castle to your room. You closed your door delicately behind you, and just stood there for a moment. It was silent. Well, it always was, for the most part, aside from the slight ringing that existed in your ears, and the dull hum that you could sometimes pick up if someone spoke to you. But this felt different. A strange quietness overcame you, the world around you seemingly stagnant. It sent a strange prickling feeling that ran all the way up from your toes to the back of your neck and made you shudder.

You slowly walked over to your bed, and shimmied yourself into the covers. The tears you’d been holding in almost immediately came pouring down your cheeks. But these tears were different than the thousands you’d shed before. They weren’t tears of anger, or of guilt, all you felt was genuine sorrow. And it was the most painful thing you’d ever experienced. All of the emotion you’d repressed over the last year came spilling out all at once. You didn’t just cry for Isabel and Furlan, but for Marla as well. It was like she’d died all over again, but this time, you didn’t have any anger or resentment left to disguise it. You let out a torrent of choked sobs, and you shoved your messy face into your pillow, a vain attempt to contain it all. The heavy feeling in your chest felt like it would never go away, all you could do was cry.

Eventually, you stood up to grab some tissue to wipe the sticky snot and hot tears from your face. As you were about to get back in bed, tears already rolling down your cheeks, you gazed out into the dark night from your window. The sky was clear of clouds, the bright moon illuminating the night. Its soft light entered your room, giving everything a slight glow. Waning gibbous, you thought, as you stared out into the night. You reached over and opened the window, a cool breeze entered the room, and you leaned up against the window.

Rest well, you guys.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Levi walked down the empty corridors. He had been unsure whether to take her up on her offer, but he was glad that he had. It had given him something to think about, as opposed to just spending the rest of his evening in a lonely room, alone with his own thoughts. He’d learned more about her, too. When he reached the door that led to the exit, his hand hovered over the handle. Do I want to go back to my room yet? He slowly began walking back down the hall. He walked aimlessly around the castle, until he found himself in the same place he had the last time he’d done this, the stairway to the tower. He stared at the entrance, and took a slow step forward. Just as he was about to enter, he hesitated. Did he really want to go in there right now? Relive through the memories? But before he knew it, he was quickly walking up the narrow staircase, pushing the door open.

📷

The cool night air immediately hit his face. He slowly walked over to the wall, and perched himself on the edge. The sky was clear of clouds, unlike the last time he was here. The moon’s light shone brilliantly on him. He gazed up into the sky in wonder. The stars were more visible this time around, scattered about as if a large hand had carelessly tossed the sparkling lights into the dark sky.

Inevitably, the memory of them sitting by his side came to his mind. The way Isabel had nearly fallen off the wall after jumping from the excitement of seeing a constellation she recognized, the way it had nearly given Furlan a heart attack from the shock.

“You need to believe in us!”

Levi sighed, and pulled his head into the palms of his hands. A tear finally fell down his cheek.

I’m so sorry, you guys.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

#levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi aot #snk levi #levi attack on titan #levi #hurt #aot hange #hange zoë #hange zoe #hange #attack on titan #aot #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #erwin smith #fluff #angst

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spookyold-saintjm · 4 years

Text

sleep.

[gif: @pascvl]

Din doesn’t sleep much, because what his dreams often tell him are things he doesn’t want to face. Things he’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to face.

The Mandalorian x female reader

Warnings: language, brief mentions of violence and death, a couple lines of implied smut

Word Count: 3k

a/n: Just a little something I’ve had on my mind lately. While this is a stand-alone one shot, I’m considering it Pilot canon, so yay if you follow along with that :) Trying to venture and write different pieces like this, so let me know what you think! x

—

Din doesn’t sleep much.

He knows rest is essential for his body, his mind. Knows that he has to get a certain amount of sleep to keep himself functioning. He’s not getting any younger; he can’t afford taking on jobs in any shape less than the best he can get in the midst of his circumstances.

That’s why he’s trained his body to function in short naps, maybe a fuller rest every once in a while when he takes the rare couple days off.

Though even those are almost always spent in the cramped quarters of the Razor Crest. It’s dull, dim, and cold, but he doesn’t see the need for any sort of luxury to just close his eyes for a few hours. Sometimes he takes the helmet off while he sleeps, sometimes he doesn’t. He tries not to.

Because then, he starts to wonder what the world would look like, sound like, feel like, if he stepped off his ship without the heavy beskar weighing him down.

That’s when he knows he should at least try to sleep, when those thoughts start to creep in. Maybe he could escape into something else for a while.

Not that it would always make things any better. In fact, as he can feel himself drifting against his will, his back rested against the unforgiving durasteel walls of the Crest, arms crossed, head tipped back and eyes closed, he knows it might only get worse.

Din doesn’t sleep much, because what his dreams often tell him are things he doesn’t want to face. Things he’s not sure he’ll ever be ready to face.

There’s a select set of events that almost always come to Din when he falls victim to slumber. How they’re presented to him behind his eyelids might vary, but the idea of them is always the same.

Most of them involve horizons of thick, stinging smoke, the sound of blaster fire and frantic shouting, the smell of blood and dirt, the feel of sweat or rain trickling down his face, of scrapes and bruises that he finds himself sometimes absently reaching for when he first wakes up. He’s reminded of things that he regrets he didn’t, couldn’t stop.

Sometimes there are faces. The warm, loving smiles of his mother and father. The heavy, stern but devoted masks of the Mandalorians who raised him. The round cheeks or shiny, new helmets of other foundlings he grew up with. Maybe even that one member of the covert that, so many years ago, had made it difficult for him to speak when they were around him, whose voice made his knees a hint unsteady, who he’d found excuses to spend extra time sparring with. The one that made his youthful mind wonder about what happens between two people when they spend a lot of time together and being companions or friends doesn’t really seem to be enough. Until they, too, disappeared, of course. He’s reminded of things that he misses.

Din doesn’t sleep much, because there’s no use in dwelling on the past. And that resolution doesn’t quite seem to reach his sleeping thoughts in the same way it does his waking ones.

When he somehow ended up traveling with the kid, a small creature with strange powers whose appearance and behavior vastly betrayed his age, whatever semblance of a sleep schedule Din once had was knocked off its axis. Traveling and working with a child around took Din up a steep learning curve full of trial and error, but one look into the tiny being’s bright eyes reminded Din why he’d gone back to retrieve him from the client in the first place. Even if he didn’t want to quite admit it to himself just yet.

The child is constantly filled with wonder at even the simplest things, his round face and long, pointed ears are so astoundingly expressive and it takes Din by surprise. He’s especially fascinated with how attentive, how absolutely taken the child appears when he speaks to him. And though the little one can’t speak back, Din finds himself talking more than he has in years, about anything and everything he thinks might be useful for him to know. He’s not sure if he even understands what’s being said, but Din figures it’s worth a try. Maybe he’ll learn a thing or two.

Once Din finally manages to get the child down for a night’s rest, he has to prioritize his choices about what needs to be done, to do things that he can’t typically accomplish while the kid’s awake. This works pretty well, for the most part. Except he finds himself thinking about the tiny thing more than he anticipated, and when it comes to taking a few minutes’ rest it’s either filled with worry that something could happen to the little one while he’s asleep, or he just simply can’t sleep at all.

Din doesn’t sleep much, because someone has to care for this child who has seen and been through perhaps as much as he has. Someone has to protect him, remind him that he’s safe now.

It goes on like this, for a while, until something else comes along that yet again shakes up everything Din thinks he knows about the world, about himself.

He meets her.

She needs better work, needs an escape from the backwater planet she’s found herself stuck on, where she makes ends meet but is teetering on the verge of collapse. He needs someone to help him take care of the child, whose boundless energy and bottomless appetite and unexplainable, magic-like tendencies are starting to become too much for him to handle on his own.

She’s shrouded by a past that she won’t say much about, only that she’s more than qualified to help him with whatever work he needs. But she connects with the child almost immediately, claiming that practically raising her siblings, at least until they’d been separated for reasons she didn’t delve into, had given her a baseline of childcare knowledge.

For Din, this was enough, and they were traveling as a group of three.

Din and the newcomer don’t exchange many words, but they are both equally perceptive of one another. She quickly notices that Din offers to let her rest far more often than he takes time to rest for himself. When he doesn’t say much beyond a couple words of polite refusal when she tells him she’s got things under control for a while in the middle of a flight, she questions him about his sleep patterns.

He’s been taking short naps every now and then, of course. He has to if he wants to keep his guard up. Din doesn’t think she has any ill intention, but there’s something about her that just strikes him differently. Something that makes him not want to take his eyes off her for very long. He’s not sure what it is, but something feels different about her presence on the ship, about her. He reads it to be wariness.

He doesn’t sleep much, he says. Because he’s just always been that way. He doesn’t mind.

She doesn’t bring it up again, until they’ve been traveling together for a while and she notices he’s started to slow down. He’s been taking on a lot of work, both for credits to maintain the ship and to pay her for her services while the two of them work together to find answers on what exactly the child is, where he belongs, and how to get him there.

She finally convinces him to sleep, really sleep, one evening. And, eventually, he does.

He’s always brought back to his usual dreams, the ones that are more just dark thoughts he won’t allow to creep up on him while he’s awake. But now, the child has been added to his rotating list of faces. He’s being taken away by another bounty hunter or one of those gods-damned Imps that just seem to eternally stain the galaxy. He’s hurt, he’s alone.

Sometimes, though it’s rare, things are better. He dreams of unfulfilled wishes he likewise doesn’t let himself linger on during his waking hours. Dreams of the child being safe. Of him being returned to a place where he belongs, rather than hopping from planet to planet with a tired bounty hunter who is known by many to be particularly cold and ruthless. They’re dreams that both put him at a temporary ease and yet hold a burning pressure onto his chest that almost feels like the same dull pain he feels when he thinks about all the others that he’s lost. He’s not sure what to think of it. So he decides he just won’t.

Din and his fellow human companion slowly learn, through both struggles and small moments between them and the child that break through the cracks of both of their quiet, hard-shelled exteriors, to understand each other. She’s smart, good with a blaster on the rare occasions it’s been warranted, pilots the ship like she could do it with her eyes closed, and doesn’t take an ounce of any bullshit he might ever try to feed her when it comes to remembering to take care of himself. He’s not sure how to take it. But he doesn’t neglect to offer her a quiet appreciation for the work she does, with a tight nod of his head or a muttered “thank you.”

But, Din still doesn’t sleep much. Because now his dreams are consumed by something entirely different.

He dreams about her in the same way he dreams about the child; at first, the worst things always happen. It’s what he’s come to expect, what he tries to stop but knows that it’s not always going to work out his way. In fact, most times it doesn’t. He keeps telling himself he can’t keep bringing more people into his life, knowing how they always end up. The guilt of it threatens to pull him under if he’s tempted to dwell on it for too long.

However, against any fraction of judgement that he possesses, he starts to think of her differently than he’s ever considered anyone before. It’s a faint resemblance of what he used to ponder about his sparring partner when he was far younger, but it’s so much more than that, so much more vivid and raw. His dreams take hold of the passing thoughts about her that he’s so quick to shut down while he’s awake, but they ruthlessly grip onto them in his scattered hours of slumber.

He dreams about how her face must lighten when she laughs, really laughs, and he doesn’t have the weight of the helmet hanging over his face and restricting the true, genuine sight of her in front of him. If her eyes would look any different if they truly met his. He dreams about how she smells, though he can catch a hint of it sometimes: notes of dirt and grease from hours spent dedicated to maintaining and building up the ship, but it’s combined with a hint of something light and floral and uniquely her that wafts through the air when they find themselves near each other perhaps a bit too closely than they’d each intended. About what it would feel like to touch her, how soft her skin would feel against his bare fingertips, in his hands. The taste of her mouth against his. The soft sounds she might make when she’s lying beneath him, both of them hot and wanting while they say things with their bodies that hesitant and maybe even fearful lips won’t allow either of them to speak aloud.

Din doesn’t sleep much, because he’s ashamed of what his dreams continue to insist to him that he wants. It’s dangerous, and it’s selfish. Two things he can’t afford to be, no matter how badly he wants to give in.

The bad dreams have stuck with him for so long, have eaten away at who he thinks he is and make him near-paranoid about what he could still become, that he doesn’t know how to handle the possibility of something good, even if it’s right in front of him. But just when Din settles on the presumed fact that his life is now a straight-shot goal of getting the kid to his kind, he’s proven wrong.

They eventually find some information that might lead to answers about the child. They might finally be able to form a plan to get him home, where he belongs. Except, now Din is apprehensive of the moment that he’ll have to leave the little womp rat behind. He told himself he wasn’t going to feel this way, but dreaming or awake it’s a dread that sits heavy on his shoulders.

He knows she can see it, too, knows he’s revealing more of himself to her than he ever intended. But what gets to him is that she doesn’t shy away from it. She takes it in, embraces it, accepts all these parts of him, in the very same way he’d done for her several weeks before when after a particularly rough job she had broken down and admitted to the horrible things she’d done in her past, everything that she thought would incriminate her, make him see her as nothing.

None of it matters to him, because he trusts who she is now, she’s proven herself time and time again. It’s a trust that she reciprocates, and one that Din doesn’t take lightly.

And on one late night when the ever-increasing tension woven between their lingering stares and fleeting touches threatens to snap, they both cave in to the need they’ve hidden from each other for months. It’s slow and delicate only until it’s fast and heavy and they’re both left breathless in pitch darkness.

Din doesn’t sleep much, because he’s hanging on to both her and the night, knowing that letting go meant it was over and the possibility of another moment that would even come close to this wasn’t promised.

One evening, a while later, Din is returning from the nearest village from where they’ve landed the Crest for a night to stretch legs for a bit, though they knew any reason to prolong their journey meant more than that. He’d gone to scope out the village for any threats, while she stayed behind with the child to feed him dinner.

Upon his return, he finds no sign of either of them, and he immediately assumes the worst. He’s trying to keep a steady mind as he loads his rifle and readies himself to go guns-blazing after whoever has so foolishly taken them.

He’s gasping for breath when he finds them just a few minutes later. Their backs are to him as they sit side-by-side near the water’s edge of the nearby lake. The child’s tiny, clawed hands are weaving softly through the thin blades of grass, but his eyes, like hers as she sits with her knees tucked to her chest, are focused on the soft feathering of purples and reds of a setting sun that paints the horizon beyond. There’s a soft glow cast over the both of them that makes them appear almost golden and surreal, as if they’re not really even there at all.

He watches them. He waits in silence until the child senses his presence and turns around, waving his arms and babbling at him. She smiles when she turns to look at the source of the child’s sudden excitement, and asks if he wants to join them.

Din wants to be angry with her for venturing off without telling him first, for making him think something horrible had happened to them. He wants to order them both back to the ship so they can just get the hell off this planet and move on. He doesn’t.

The child climbs into Din’s lap when he begrudgingly lowers himself to the ground, and falls asleep almost immediately after curling himself into the Mandalorian’s arms. The woman next to him holds back a laugh, and meets Din’s gaze for a flash of a moment before she looks on to the sky ahead. There’s a breath of hesitation, but then she leans her head softly against the contrastingly hard and unforgiving beskar covering Din’s shoulder. They stay there until the sky darkens and the sun is long out of sight.

He wonders if she feels any semblance of what he’s feeling in that moment. Like he’s standing in the doorway of one of his dreams. One of the better ones.

That night, Din lays with his eyes open despite the room’s complete darkness, listening to the steady rise and fall of her breaths beside him. Her back is turned, always turned to him in the rare nights they’ve shared a bed out of respect for the commitment he has made to never reveal his face to another living thing.

He doesn’t realize she’s also awake until the sound of her whispered voice permeates the stillness in the room.

“Din,” she breathes as she tucks herself slightly deeper against him, the sound of his real name falling from her lips always threatening to melt away every bit of the stoic, hardened exterior he’s worn for so long. “Sleep.”

It’s a command she’s given him many times before, often in teasing. But here, like this, it carries a different weight, says far more than the single word that she actually speaks.

Din doesn’t sleep much because he fears that none of this is anything he can have forever. There’s still the very real and hovering and heart-shattering possibility that he may eventually have to let them both go, and he feels like it’s coming faster than he can keep up with.

But he’s tired. And she’s warm. And the child is safe, lightly and contentedly snoring in his pod just a few feet away.

Din doesn’t sleep much. But on that night, he at least sleeps well.

#mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian fic #din djarin fic #mandalorian one shot #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian #din djarin #i took way more time than i meant to on this #hope it's okay ahhhsdfk

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whumpy-tales-and-thoughts · 4 years

Note

I am yet to read your stuff but could I request 'Be Careful What You Wish For' and 'Carved Mark' from your BTHB card? :D

Okay this is quite a bit into the story but I’m not planning on writing it chronologically so here we are! Thank you so much for the request!! <3

TW: captivity, knives, blood, burns.

It was an especially bad day for Leo. He watched the sunrise through the window on the opposite wall. Every day, cuffed to the wall, he’d either wake up to it or waiting for it, when he couldn’t sleep. It was his only contact with the outside world in -ah, he didn’t know how long. He dreaded the day that was starting. Marcus’ birthday. He’d been teasing that something big would happen, for days now, so when the metal door opened, hours later, the younger man could only hold his breath in anticipation of what the other would do.

Marcus entered the room with a big, innocent smile, one that would look silly on a man of his build, if Leo didn’t already know what he was like. He was like a small child, this 6’2 man that could make Leo disappear in one mood swing. “Good morning, love! Today is such a beautiful day, isn’t it?”

“Sure”, Leo sighed, trying to calm his terrified thoughts.

“Let’s get you off these, shall we”, Marcus said to himself, unlocking the cuffs, allowing Leo to fall onto him for a couple of seconds, until he regained his balance. He may have been used to this by now, but that didn’t make it any easier. His arms were in more pain every day.

“Today is my birthday, you know”, said the man while the both of them were walking down a hallway and then some stairs to reach the basement.

“I know, you didn’t really shut up about it”, said Leo, although the second part of the sentence he chewed up.

“You’re, y’ know, kind of obligated to do what I say today. But I’ll let that slide, because I want you to see the present I’ve prepared”.

“You made yourself a present? That’s kinda sad, Marcus”.

“I’ve only thought of the idea,” he said, “you’ll be the one to execute it, babe”.

Dread appeared in the form of cold sweat over his body when Leo heard that, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Involuntarily, he slowed his pace, but Marcus gave him a dangerous look. That was enough to get his speed back up. “What do you want me to do?”

“Oh, you’ll see in a moment”, Marcus said and patted the shorter’s hair gently. He opened the door to the basement and half turned his body towards Leo. “I’m going inside to prepare it. Do not. Move.”

He needn’t say anything more. Despite the thoughts running wild inside his head, he knew he couldn’t try running away. The doors would be locked, same with the windows, and this was a lake house, he’d likely not see any roads or other people for miles. Leo had given up on escaping after the failed attempt, which’s consequences still made his body hurt. He could feel his breaths getting shaky, could feel his legs twitching, beginning to tremble, but he tried to stay still. He tried to calm himself. He didn’t know what was behind the door. It was the first time Marcus had led him this far from his room, and he didn’t think anything good could have come out of that.

The door handle creaked, yanking him out of his thoughts -for the better, probably, because they were only causing him panic.

“Come inside, sweety, here”. Taking his hand, Marcus led him to the interior, which was mostly empty, save from the metal chair in the middle of it, a small table with wheels, and a hanging light bulb. He chose not to look on what was on top of the table. The setting was ominous enough already.

“There’s usually more stuff in basements. Isn’t yours way too empty for a rich man?” he tried to joke, to keep up appearances, but as Marcus was pushing him down, tying his limbs to the arms and legs of the chair, he couldn’t help his trembling body. “What are you going to do”, he asked again, still refusing to look at the tabletop.

“Well, A, nobody has used this place before us so there’s not much stuff around and B, I’m going to make you my birthday present!”

“W-what do you mean…”

“A birthday present should be something that can stay with you forever, something you can look at and remember the day it was gifted, right? So then, what better a gift than something on you, who’ll stay with me forever, than a… tattoo, of sorts?”

Leo inhaled. A tattoo? I’ve had more of those, they don’t even hurt, where’s the need for him to tie-

The agonizing pain cut off even his trail of thought. Without warning, without preparation, Marcus had begun slicing the skin on his exposed right arm with a small carving knife. Leo bit down on his cheek until he could taste blood. He tried to hold back his scream, but with every passing second, the knife went deeper inside his arm. Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god, I can’t, I can’t do this… make it stop!

“Aaugh!”

His nails clawed to the chair’s arms, his feet were outstretched, his mouth was bleeding from the inside and he was downright screaming, hot tears feeling cold against his burning cheeks.

“Oh, don’t be such a baby! You have to do anything for me today, remember?”

“Fuck you!” Leo screeched, immediately feeling the knife plunge deeper into his skin.

“Oops, that was an accident.” Marcus’ voice was stern again. He probably wasn’t too happy with Leo cursing at him.

Leo didn’t know how much time had passed, but he could count the letters. In the beginning, at least. There were small, seconds-long breaks Marcus took between each letter to clean the blade -and then that hellish pain would start again. But Leo couldn’t keep count after a while. After the fifth letter, his voice broke, his throat too sore, too tired to give him any other means to complain. Soon after that, he stopped moving -not that he could move much at all, either way. He stopped struggling. He hung his head and prayed for unconsciousness, but his wish was never granted. Each time his body was ready to give up, a new pain was added, and it jolted him awake again.

“There we go. Look at how much better drawn the letters are now that you’ve calmed down”.

By the time Marcus was done, Leo was but a shell of a human. His cheeks wet with tears, the entirety of his body soaked with sweat, dyed blue hair stuck in strands on his forehead, eyes half closed, shallow breathing. Marcus didn’t bother checking on him. He knew there was still one more step to completing his piece.

He used a long lighter to warm the knife’s blade enough for its heat to seal the wounds, and gently pressed it on each of the letters, warming it anew each time. Leo did open his mouth to scream, but nothing more than a grunt and a soft “please” could come out of it. The only indicator of his consciousness were his tears, flowing non stop on his cheeks, falling on his sleeveless shirt.

Once he was done, Marcus cleaned the blood off Leo’s arm, untied him and picked him up, ever so gently. He carried him to his room, to his bed. He didn’t cuff him, knowing that would put too much strain on the younger man. “Get up, love. Don’t you want to see? It’s quite beautiful”.

Leo’s eyes were covered by his fringe, his mouth half open. “Leave me be, please…”

“Come on, get up”, Marcus demanded, without sugarcoating his tone, and moved to touch him.

Leo managed to react, slapping Marcus’ hand away with the arm he could move. He used the same arm to push himself up, however little he could. He enjoyed the surprised expression on the older’s face, he couldn’t lie to himself about that. “Get out. Leave me alone. Fuck off. How do I need to say it for you to understand?” his voice was hoarse and small, and some vowels weren’t audible, but he certainly got his point across.

Marcus wore a raged expression. He stood up, grabbed Leo by his wrists and cuffed him back on the wall, slamming him against it. “Alright then, love, but remember: you wished for this, you demanded this. You’re in no position to make demands but, I’ll just have to teach you that the hard way. You want alone time? Sure. Get it, then. Just don’t cry to me when I return to you -if, I return to you”.

With those sharp words as his last ones, Marcus turned his back on Leo and closed the door loudly, locking it. The click of the key echoed through the room. It would take many days for Leo to hear that clicking sound again.

#whump #knife tw #burn tw #captivity tw #intimate whumper #My writing #leo and marcus

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smol-and-trashy · 4 years

Text

Sylvix Vore Fic (FE3H)

A/N: This is probably mega OOC, but I fell in love with both Sylvain and Felix during my first playthrough of FE3H and been itching for a vore fic featuring them. It’s probably more accurate to read this as platonic due to my inability to write anything remotely romantic... This was also inspired by @sinfromlokislair‘s Sylvix fic, theirs is a lot better tbh haha.. Vomit warning, so if that makes you squeemish, please leave now! Enjoy :)

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Felix growled as he shoves off the giant finger, wishing this oaf wasn’t the first person who offered help. While Sylvain would disagree, it wasn’t entirely his fault that he was in this position. The blast of magic was directed towards their professor and Felix, standing behind her, found himself foolishly taking the hit. He expected a lot of things to happen, well aware of the effects of taking a direct hit to dark magic, but being reduced to the size of a field mouse was not one of them. Now, he has to pay the price of the curse.

Felix pinched the bridge of his nose, he expected something like this happening to Sylvain, the reckless skirt-chaser, but himself? He was usually more collect in battle. He sighs, regret still weighing heavily over him, but he had more pressing matters to tend to, specifically regarding the man before him. He looks up: Sylvain Jose Gautier loomed over Felix in all his self-proclaimed glory, Felix swallows. Goddess, he was gargantuan, his chest taking up most of Felix’s line of view and he has to crank his neck far back just to peer up in his friend’s eyes and feel like an equal in conversation. Bubbles of fear and humiliation rose up inside the smaller, but he represses those feelings, swiftly replacing them with indignation. “For the last time, Sylvain, quit poking me.” “Sorry, sorry, it’s just that you’re so tiny and cute! I really can’t help myself.” Sylvain laughs a little, folding both hands behind his head. “Insatiable, as always,” Felix mutters under his breath. If Sylvain heard, he gave no indication, instead, grabbing Felix without a single warning. As the tree-sized fingers close around his waist, Felix soon finds himself face-to-face with his ginormous friend; bemused, Sylvain simply watches as the smaller struggles in his grip. “Let me go, Sylvain!” he squawks, trying to pry those fingers off him. Really, the man had no concept of personal space. “Mm, I could, but,” Sylvain leans forward with his elbow still on the table, drawing closer to Felix. Fruitlessly trying to maneuver his legs and kick at Sylvain’s too-close face, he stops; scowling as he notices his own reflection in those amber eyes, and at last, Sylvain pulls back. “This is all too much fun!” he winks. “Hilarious, now let me down, you oaf.” Felix says flatly, “I would rather dual the boar than being stuck here with you.” “Really? Because most ladies would love to be in your shoes, Fe.” Felix squirmed a little in the redhead’s grip, not fancying himself so high. “Let them. At least you would finally leave me alone.” Sylvain leans on his arm, a cocky grin adorning his lips, “Ouch, don’t be like that! Least now, you can’t refuse to get dinner with me.” The raven-head rolls his eyes at the reminder of Sylvain’s countless dinner invitations, most of which he had turned down in favor of training. “Forcing me to eat with you, would you stoop so low?” Sylvain says nothing, only flashing a sly smirk and hoists Felix a few inches higher, just above his nose. Felix unwittingly tenses up, he's much too high and Sylvain was taking this joke further than he'd like. He curses while digging his nails into his friend's skin, trying to force himself to be lowered. Yet, the other refuses to budge. He can't tell if Sylvain thought of this as one big joke or if he was really this careless. "You incorrigible---" "Aw, c'mon Fe, you’re just cute enough to eat!” Sylvain interrupts smugly, dangling Felix over his wide-open mouth; He wasn’t seriously going to drop him, but it was all too easy to get a rise out of him. Felix’s heart pounds furiously against his chest as he’s forced to peer into Sylvain’s awaiting maw. Sharp white teeth that could easily bite him in half taunt him while that wet tongue twitches and Felix doesn’t even want to think what is beyond that dark, pulsing throat. It was repulsive, everything. Despite himself, Felix couldn’t stop staring. Is this what prey feel when they’re about to be eaten? Strangely enamored? He frowns, choosing not to dwell on it, and instead, averting his eyes to the door, he was no damsel, but a piece of him wishes for Ingrid or even the boar to pay Sylvain an unexpected visit. Relief sweeps through him as those lips close, “Tell me, do you have a death wish, Sylvain?” he growls, but the older man’s lips quirk upwards, evidently amused. As Sylvain opens his mouth to make a quip—- “Sylvain!” Ingrid barges into the room, and in an instant, he loses his grip on Felix, barely able to make out the tiny man’s objections as he falls straight towards the gaping throat. Sylvain’s jaws snap shut, and the obtrusion at the back of his throat causes him to swallow, purely out of reflex. Fuck. All traces of coy playfulness disappear instantly as he feels the tiny body make its way down his throat. He sits there, in cold shock, as Felix drops into his stomach. The heavy, humid air hits him, and Felix lies absolutely still, paralyzed with disbelief. This can’t be real. That half-wit did not just swallow me. Felix’s heart pounds in his ears as he wipes the slime off his face. The chamber wasn’t as dark as he anticipated, in fact, he could see the wrinkled pinkish walls fairly well. His own stomach turns as thick chyme splashes on him, and before he’s able to gain some semblance of footing, he’s thrown at the opposing wall. More liquid soaks him, and Felix thrashes aimlessly, the only coherent thought going through his mind is ‘I need to get out of here.’ He rushes to the nearest wall, cursing at Sylvain for taking his swords beforehand, and punches at the wall. No reaction. Not a wince, not a protest to stop, nothing. The chamber groans and convulses, but there’s no direct response from Sylvain. Felix clenches his fist, and despite the heat, he feels an icy chill plunge into his veins; no, he must persist. He’s trained on hours end, he can make Sylvain notice him. As Felix is about to inflict another punch to the walls, he hears a familiar voice around him, pushing down the squicked feeling of hearing his childhood friend in such a ubiquitous manner, he pauses to listen. Sylvain stands up and freezes, a nervous chuckle arises from his throat, “I-Ingrid! To what do I owe the pleasure of—“ “You know how many messes of yours I had to clean up for the past week?” He blanches as Ingrid wastes no time in berating him for his less than reputable behavior, “You promised that you would cease your philandering ways, but I heard from Ashe, of all people, that you were—-“ she pauses, Sylvain was almost hunched over, sickly pale with his arms twisted around his stomach, “Are you okay? You look unwell.” At that, Sylvain straightens up, “Ah, yeah, yeah, just ate something bad earlier,” he winces as he earns a nasty kick from Felix, “nothing some rest can’t fix!” Ingrid’s concerned expression only deepens, she purses her lips, but Sylvain, armed with a charming smile, puts a hand on her shoulder, “Honestly, Ingrid, I’m fine. But it’s cute of you to get all worked up over me! Y’know, maybe a kiss on the cheek would help?” The blonde shoves his hand off, rolling her eyes, “I’m not…Take care of yourself, Sylvain,” she sighs, turning around and finally shutting the door behind her. Alone in his room, Sylvain gingerly presses a hand on his belly, earning sharp kick in retaliation. His mouth suddenly feels like it was filled with cotton, and finding himself at a rare loss of words, Sylvain racks his brain for the right thing to say, for something to say. “You alright in there?” he mentally slaps himself after the words come out of his mouth. How utterly stupid he must sound. “Am I alright in here?” Felix repeats incredulously, blood boiling with every ticking second, “Did you really just ask the man who’s stewing away in your filthy guts if he’s ‘alright in there?’ What the hell do you think?” Sylvain swallows and finally sits down on his bed, trying to control an incoming rush of vertigo. He runs a hand through his hair, slicking the ruddy strands back into place, and sighs. “You’re right, I-I’m sorry, Felix. You’re not… melting in there, are you?” His heart-rate begins to pick up, thumping wildly in his chest like a caged bird. “Oh Goddess, you need to let me know if anything is happening!” “As you should be,” Felix says while checking out his arm. His once white sleeves are stained from the juices, but he’s feeling no burning effects. Not to say the acids wouldn’t be activated when Sylvain eats something—-other than himself. “It looks like I’m fine, for now.” “Good, let’s get you out of there.” He’s met with an affirmative hum, and Sylvain plants himself on the floor, firmly pressing both hands on his stomach. Tiny fingers tap on the bottom of his belly and now wholly aware of it. The feeling is entirely alien, almost ticklish; he automatically heaves, offhandedly noting the room getting warmer as sweat gathers on his forehand. Bile creeps at the bottom of his throat, and Sylvain dry heaves once again, “C’mon…” he murmurs. His stomach groans louder, noisily protesting the shrunken being inside, and his fingers slam on the hardwood, curling instantly. As his guts twist and turn in itself, he grimaces, wishing for a drink to aid him in this uncomfortable process. Sylvain’s eyes widen as he gags, only able to retch out strands of saliva. There is a distinct lack of a certain sharp-tongued mercenary. “No…Why didn’t it work?” he whispers, clutching at his middle. “Sylvain…” Felix’s voice is dangerously low, and Sylvain was sure that if he hadn’t removed the former’s weapons, his insides would have been lacerated mercilessly. Even though they’d been friends since childhood, even though they made a promise, there was no way Felix would let himself die such a humiliating death. Felix glares up at the tight sphincter from above, it’s much too high to force open, but maybe if Sylvain was lying down… He pauses, out of nowhere, acids begin to bubble and churn. The stomach gurgles louder, and suddenly, he’s thrown from wall-to-wall, hardly getting a chance to catch his breath. A god-awful groan resonates around him, and his head gets submerged under the liquid; everything flies by too quickly; this was it, this was how he was going to go down. He can’t breathe; one moment his lungs are filled with acids, and the next, he finds himself splayed on a squishy surface. Felix coughs and gasps for air, for a split second, he really thought he was done for. Arm slung over his head, he almost doesn’t notice the shadow looming over him or the fast pulse below, rivaling his own. He needs a good minute to recoup himself as he breathes slowly to even his heart-rate. Finally removing his arm, he looks above. Felix’s breath hitches as the thundering vibrations of Sylvain saying something reverberates through his body; nearly admonishing himself for such a pathetic reaction, he realizes the words aren’t registering. “—-about this, yeah?” Felix catches the tail-end of whatever the redhead was trying to say. “Alright.” and for the first time since this ordeal, there’s no bite behind his words, only thinly veiled exhaustion as he finds himself slumped against Sylvain’s index finger. He just wants to return to normal and forget this day ever happened.

#sylvix vore #sylvain vore #felix vore #fe3h vore #fire emblem vore #soft vore #safe vore #vomit warning vore #vore writing #fandom vore #all my tags have vore in them so no one else would know of this sin #unwilling vore

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