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harry-writings · 3 years

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The Happy Years

- The one where Y/n is unhappy in her engagement and finds an escape with her former lover

Part 1

Masterlist

(A/N) IM SO EARLY IM SORRY I KNOW I SAID 9PM BUT IM DONE SO MUCH SOONER THAN EXPECTED OKAY IM SORRY LOVE YALL <3333

Three years later.

The heaviest of thunderstorms hit the city of London by early morning, the loss of the sun and the gloom of the day leaving Harry bedridden for the first time in weeks.

He always tried his best to avoid days like this — trapped within his home, caged in memories that make every step he takes heavier than the last, wishing for just the smallest taste of salvation — because it’s when he’s left alone between these walls that the darkest parts of him come out, ravaging, feeding off of what’s left of him.

Rain reminds him of the day Y/n left. Thunder reminds him of Malibu. Malibu reminds him of all the things he ever used to do with her — on the bed, on the couch, in the hallways.

There’s no escape from what he’s done.

But when the time hits two in the afternoon and Harry still hasn’t gotten up from under his blankets, he decides that doing even the bare minimum with his day would be some sort of accomplishment.

He decided to get the mail.

And what a terrible decision that was, Harry thinks, as he sees an envelope addressed to him in unfamiliar handwriting by an unfamiliar name. Something about it upsets his stomach and throws him off key, knowing in his heart that he shouldn’t open it, but it’s heavy in his hands and he can’t ignore the temptation of it all.

Another terrible decision he’s made.

Please join us for the wedding of Alfie Lexington & Y/n Y/l/n.

Saturday, September 25, 2021 at 3:00 PM.

Dartmouth House. Mayfair, London.

The downpour feels like a drizzle compared to the cries Harry lets out as he reads the wedding invitation, his worst nightmare playing out right before his very eyes and if he wasn’t already so fucked up, he’d try his best to ignore it.

Y/n played her move. She wants him to strike back. She wants to win and watch him lose more than he already has. That’s all she has left of him.

His lips tremble as he sniffles, the invitation shaking between his palms as he lets reality sink in.

Y/n is getting married.

Y/n is happy.

Y/n is going to spend the rest of her life with somebody other than him — somebody that was once his friend.

It's unfathomable to him. The connection him and Y/n shared was unlike any other. They were drawn to each other instantaneously, their feelings of infatuation never once dying down because it was simply incapable of doing so.

They put each other first. They made each other better people, helped each other grow through all the droughts and winter days, and continuously found ways to become closer to one another. They were so comfortable and confident in their company, and so every day they spent together within those four years had never been anything less than pure happiness.

They were meant to be. He didn’t see it then, but he sees it now, and now that’s all he sees because everything he sees is her.

To know that it’s no longer the same for her kills him from the inside out, because now she really doesn’t belong to him.

He lets out a sound that can only resemble what would be a whine and a groan made together, sobbing as he flips the invitation around, only to find another saved date he just doesn’t have the heart to see — an engagement party for all the invited to join.

He’s so overwhelmed with devastation that his brain becomes fogged, his body disassociating from itself as he rips the invitation apart, growling and screaming and wailing as he just keeps ripping it and ripping it and ripping it.

He’s destroying it in the same way it destroyed him until he gives up, slamming his fists down upon the counter, losing control of himself beneath all his pain and regrets. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to happen. This isn’t what was supposed to come from this life.

He’s barely surviving as it is.

And he just needs to see her again.

But he doesn’t know how he’d react once he does. Whether he’d want to kiss her, to hate her, to love her all over again, he doesn’t know. His entire world is collapsing and he doesn’t know how to save it from falling apart. He can’t take any more risks when it comes to her.

But what is love without fear and danger? What would it say about him if he were to walk away from this now instead of trying just once more with her?

So with a heavy heart and a sobbing chest, he doesn’t take his chances.

And Y/n simply just couldn’t believe the sight in front of her.

Harry is standing at her doorstep, soaked head to toe, shaking in his bones. His lips are a light shade of blue and his eyes an alarming shade of red, somehow wetter than the rest of him. And as the thunder rumbles beneath her feet and nearly sends her to her knees, it goes to show her that he really is here, standing at her doorstep, and it’s not just a dream.

And she must have been struck by the shock of his presence because her tongue is suddenly tied, her throat dry, her lips fallen open yet forgetting how to breathe.

She just looks at him, soaking him all in, trying to understand what exactly led him back to the biggest mistake of his life.

“Harry?”

“So that was your way of getting back at me?! After three fucking years?!”

Her mouth falls open in disbelief, her eyebrows furrowing in defense. How he could possibly accuse her of something she didn’t even do — considering she hadn’t made any attempts to reach out to him since the moment she left Malibu — makes her feel even more betrayed than before.

He should know her better than this. He should know her from the inside out at this point, but she supposed three years really is a long time, because she’s never seen this side of Harry before. He seems so different to her now.

“Don’t you dare come to my home and try to make an ass out of me! Since when have I ever been the kind of person to get back at somebody?!”

Harry stutters for a moment, his anger and jealousy and hurt blinding him from the truth that Y/n never goes out of her way to get even. Her heart is too big, but he can’t shake this feeling that the person who sent him the invitation was out to do him harm.

And nobody had more of a reason to hurt him than Y/n.

“So the wedding invitation, then? You had nothing to do with that?”

He speaks it condescending, as if he didn’t believe a word she said, but that’s not what it comes down to. It comes down to the fact that she has moved on and found herself somebody so much better than him, and he has no one.

She shakes her head as if to gather her thoughts, confused about how he even found out about the wedding considering Harry quit the firm just hours after he left Malibu, leaving him with no contact to anybody that had any string tied back to her.

“Of course I had something to do with the wedding invitations! I’m the one getting married!”

She pauses then, her cold demeanor dropping into something Harry wants to say resembles a hint of relief, but it’s much more cross than that, much more serious, and he doesn’t expect what’s coming next.

“That’s what this is about, isn’t it? Me getting married?” She speaks it through a small, bitter laugh. “I should have known the only way you’d fight for me was by being with somebody else. You never could stand being second to me, as ironic as that is.”

“I could give two shits about you getting married.” He lies through clenched teeth, his stomach sick at the mere thought of it. “But I do have an issue with you inviting me to your wedding after walking out on me.”

Her head snaps back up to him.

“Wait, Harry, what are you talking about?” She frowns, trying to make sense of it. “I didn’t invite you to the wedding.”

Why would she?

They are no longer friends, no longer much of anything, so for her to take time out of her day to sabotage anything but herself wouldn’t feel right to her. Besides, it was her decision to never speak to Harry again, she wouldn’t ever take her word back.

Harry frowns then, too, because she isn’t faking her emotions. She’d always been terrible at doing so, and the way her eyes scream and beg for answers can’t go ignored. He, again, feels like the absolute worst person in the world.

“Then who did?” He whispers.

There’s only one possible answer.

Seven months ago.

Alfie insisted that he and Y/n had a New Year’s Eve party. They’d never had one before, as Y/n much preferred staying in with a bottle of champagne and celebrating with a lobster dinner and late night reruns of The Honeymooners.

But Alfie was persistent. Very persistent. Too persistent. So persistent she had no choice but to give in, and she just didn’t understand why.

She didn’t understand it as days passed and all Alfie talked about was the stupid party. She didn’t understand it when he rented out one of the most expensive venues. She didn’t understand it when he laid awake the entire night before, too anxious to fall asleep. She didn’t understand it when he asked her to wear his favorite dress.

She wished that she did the moment it happened.

The clock was ticking.

“Five!”

Alfie reached for Y/n’s hand.

“Four!”

Y/n noticed something shift in the air.

“Three!”

Alfie reached his other hand into his pocket.

“Two!”

Y/n knew what was coming.

“One!”

Alfie dropped to one knee.

“Happy new year!”

It was every girl’s dream — the fireworks, the balcony, the view, the prince charming that would whisk her away to spend the rest of eternity together — yet it couldn’t have felt any more like a nightmare.

It wasn’t what she wanted. Not then, not ever before, not once during the span of their relationship, and time seemed to have stopped moving forward.

There she was, in the center of the universe as everybody stopped and stared, gasping and gushing at the sight of a man on his knees for a woman. An act of vulnerability, of love, of submission, yet it didn’t feel like any of those things.

It all felt so wrong.

She began to cry.

To everyone else, it seemed as though she was crying from happiness. Her devoted boyfriend of two years finally asked for her hand in marriage, to be the mother of his children, to spend the rest of their lives tied together by a vow, unable to be broken. So it was no surprise when everybody let out an awe of endearment, nobody (not even Alfie) knowing her well enough to distinguish the difference between her happiest and saddest cries.

Harry would have known.

And that was all it seemed to come back to in that very moment in time.

Harry.

What she would have given to feel his hands on her waist, blocking her body from view with his, taking her away from all the unwanted eyes on her fragile body. He would have done it in a heartbeat because he always did — he always found a way to help her escape her horrifying realities, even the sweetest of ones.

What she would have given for it to be him kneeling in front of her… this all would have been so different.

Her lover of two years was promising her a future, yet all she could think about was somebody stuck in her past, yet so heavily prevalent in her present.

But she couldn’t say no. How could she when everybody expected the answer he was looking for, ready to toast to the bride and groom? How could she when phones captured the beginning of the rest of their lives, ready to share for all to see?

But she couldn’t say yes, either.

She settled for a nod of her head.

The crowd cheered, some clapping, others clinking their glasses, lovers kissing. She only caught a glimpse of those celebratory moments before everything around her drowned in her tears, voices of congratulations so distant beneath her heavy, hyperventilated breaths.

Alfie embraced her, then, and she felt his laughs of euphoria rumbling in his chest as hers met his, and she couldn’t even pretend.

She rested her chin on his shoulder, her expression void of everything that she should have been feeling. And her eyes went blank as they caught a reflection of her through the balcony windows — the last time she ever saw herself for what she truly was.

That same day.

Y/n was a mess waiting for Alfie to get home.

Seeing Harry again filled her with so many different emotions, she didn’t know which one to start with. She wanted to cry, wanted to scream, wanted to destroy everything and everybody that dared get in her way, she wanted to disappear. Yet she had done none of it. All she could manage to do was pace around her bedroom, biting at her nails and getting lost in her scrambled thoughts, her mind and body moving at a million miles an hour, unable to be tamed.

This is precisely the reason Y/n never wanted to see him again.

He does things to her, he always has. She hardly has any control over herself whenever it comes to him and she fucking hates it. No matter how sad, how mad, how hurt or how upset, there was something about his presence that made her see past all of that. It saddens her how much she used to love it.

But her moods swing at her relentlessly, the sadness turning to anger because yes, she is angry. She’s angry that he still has this much of a hold on her, especially after everything he’s done, and she’s even more angry that he hasn’t yet apologized for it.

Because it was all getting better. The constant wondering about what he’s doing or who he’s with and the continuous string of thought always leading back to him was all finally falling into its place. She was finally finding her place.

And then her fiancè did this.

When she hears the bedroom door open, she hardly gives Alfie any time before she starts a fight, wishing nothing more than to take it all out on him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Y/n fumes, everything tainted red with anger as she looks into his eyes and feels nothing but hurt and betrayal. “Inviting Harry to our wedding behind my back?! Do you not remember what he did to me?! Do you not realize what you just did?!”

He frowns, not sarcastic or menacing, but he genuinely seems upset that she’d ever even ask him such a question.

“Y/n…” Alfie sighs, and she suddenly hates the way he’s always managed to remain calm in the most heated of arguments. She wants to start a war with it, to go for the kill, to make him crawl and beg and bleed for her forgiveness. “Of course I remember what he did to you, which is exactly why I did it.”

Her hands turn to fists.

“Are you kidding me?!”

“I wanted to hurt him for hurting you! God damn it, Y/n… after finding out what he did to you all I could think about was ripping him to pieces and that urge never left me, especially after we got together.”

He slumps himself down at the foot of the bed, loosening the tie around his neck, almost too aggressively. And if she wasn’t so out of her mind enraged, she would try her hardest to understand his side.

But there is no excuse for this. There’s no excuse for any of it.

“So now you use our marriage as a way to get back at him?!”

Y/n may not love Alfie the right way, but she had never stooped so low to treat her marriage like a weapon, ready to strike at any moment in time. It wasn’t something she used to inflict pain onto anybody else but herself, no matter how hard it had gotten.

And though she once believed their engagement meant more to him than it ever meant to her, she can’t help but feel as if that’s just another lie she’d been forced to live with.

He went behind her back deliberately to hurt somebody even she never intended on hurting. He knew what was to come of this and yet here he is, letting it all happen for satisfaction’s sake.

It feels like all she will ever be is used.

“Is that what this is to you?! A point on your scoreboard?! A big ‘fuck you, i won!’?”

“Isn’t that what this is for you?”

“Don’t you dare turn this into my problem.” She spits through clenched teeth, punching at the dresser beside her with the side of her fist, face burning with fury. “I’m not the one sending him our wedding invitations!”

“And I’m not the one staying up past midnight scrolling through pictures of him on my phone!”

Her mouth shuts then, her hard and pressed features softening at the unexpected turn of the conversation.

She had been looking at pictures of Harry almost every night since Malibu, she just never expected to get caught. She could physically feel Alfie fall asleep against her, so she always waited thirty minutes before she took her phone out, looking back at everything that once was.

It was the only thing she ever truly wanted.

It’s what she kept going back to — a habit that came as naturally as telling her best friend about her day, about her perspectives on the world, about the lack of guidance in her life — like a phone call at the end of the day as a way to unwind.

She had make believe conversations with him as she scrolled endlessly through her favorite photo album, the thickness of his accent engrained in her mind as she thought of everything he’d say to her if he were still around. And if that wasn’t enough, she’d live vicariously through the memories they made together and replay those moments all night, until they lulled her to sleep.

“I told you from day one that —”

“That you’re never going to let him go, I know. I know that he was the love of your life at one point but this is just pathetic now, Y/n. Absolutely nothing short of pathetic.” She frowns, his choice of words making her heart sink because he knows exactly how to do it. And he sighs, rubbing his hands up and down his face as if he were in agony. “I didn’t know this was the kind of shit I was signing up for.”

Her eyes brim with tears but don’t offer anything more, only upset that he couldn’t find a way to understand her when she’s trying so hard. But he never has and he never will — not in the way she needs him to and not in the way that could ever make this work.

“I’m not sorry for what I did.” She confesses sadly, her bottom lip between her teeth and fingers picking the skin around her nails as she tries, yet again, to make him see. “He was my best friend before he was anything else to me. There was a time in my life where he was all I had.”

And though her heart is still with Harry in every aspect of every way, it’s true. He was her best friend and that’s what she misses the most. There was so much to him that meant so much to her and none of it could ever be replaced, not even by Alfie.

“You know I love you but you also know I'm not the same woman you fell for in Malibu. I’m my worst self when I don't have him around and your favorite parts of me don’t exist without him. Don’t pretend like you don’t see that.”

His hands twitch against his lap, his shoulders slumping because it’s true. The most lively and brightest parts of herself had died the first step she’d taken away from him that night. Sure, she’s still the most resilient and beautiful woman Alfie had ever known, but she’s never been the same since then.

She’s still in love with him and there’s nothing for him to do about it. He didn’t see it until he saw the way she sulked over Harry that night, all those years later, with a diamond ring on her finger that just seemed to weigh her down even more.

None of this means anything to her.

“It’s been three years, Y/n. Just find yourself a new best friend and move the fuck on already. I’m getting sick and tired of this.”

What he doesn’t understand is that she is, too.

Two weeks later.

Y/n shouldn’t be this alone at her own engagement party, but it’s the impossible things that always manage to find their way to her.

The party consisted mostly of Alfie’s friends, considering Y/n is much more of an introvert than he is and the small number of friends she does have seemed to have disappeared within the sea of unfamiliar faces. She felt lost for a moment, but when she finally found her fiancè, he had been too invested in his own friends to spare her a single one of his glances, and it soon became disheartening to wait for him to acknowledge her when the thought of her never once crossed his mind.

So she ends up on the steps of their back porch, sipping on a glass of champagne, overlooking the garden, breathing in the silence.

She closes her eyes and succumbs herself to the summer breeze, wondering what she has to do to find a single glimmer of happiness. Her life is just so sad, a labyrinth of betrayal and hurt and heartbreak she can’t ever escape.

Darkness is all she sees when she thinks about her future. There is nothing for her to look forward to. Every day will come and go the same way it has been — unwanted, dreaded, wasted, another failed attempt of contentment. It all seems so hopeless to her now.

The champagne doesn’t stand a chance when it comes to a lonely Y/n, and it isn’t nearly enough to curb her mood, either as she huffs at her empty glass, wishing she had taken another.

She sets it down next to her, placing both her elbows on her knees, getting lost in her world of sorrow, long forgotten by her lover.

Harry is the first one to find her.

He had parked his car across the street from her shared home with Alfie, and even from his distance he knew Y/n wouldn’t be inside. He knows her too well to know she wouldn’t find her place in crowded rooms where the attention is all on her, even if it was all in the comfort of her own home.

And the fact that Alfie didn’t know her senses of belonging well enough to accommodate them made him seeth. She is an independent, a lone wolf, a woman who moves solely in her own way and anybody who’s ever loved her knows that above all else.

He doesn’t care for her.

And he doesn’t need to go looking for her because he can feel her, as if the universe somehow bent its laws of gravity and pushed him straight to her back porch steps, where he finds her all alone.

She nearly jumps out of her skin when she feels a hand fall softly on her shoulder, but immediately sinks into comfort when she sees that it’s Harry moving to sit beside her, his hand refusing to pull away.

Finally, she has a friend.

“Hey.” She says softly, one of the corners of her lips turning slightly upward at his unexpected visit. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

He smiles briefly at her before he overlooks the garden, his fingers squeezing at her shoulder before resting his palms over his lap. And there’s something about being next to her again that makes everything around him fall back into place. This is where he’s meant to be.

“Honestly, neither did I, all things considered.” They both let out a chuckle, the atmosphere between them so horrifically sad yet so incredibly right. “But I just really felt like I had to be here for you tonight.”

Despite the years that had passed and everything that drove them apart, Y/n remains who he loves most in this world. His connection to her never died, so the sudden gusts of off and disturbing feelings Harry used to get whenever Y/n was troubled had never left him. He felt it all just as strongly — her anxieties, her fears, her tears and everything in between. And he’s glad that part of them never died because the look in her eye tells him everything he needs to know.

She’s absolutely miserable.

She sighs, the corners of her lips falling as she stares at her engagement ring, her thumb and pinky twisting it around her ring finger, itchy and heavy no matter which way it's worn.

“Me and Alfie aren’t doing so well.”

She didn’t have to say it because he can already see how treacherous they are together, but that doesn’t make it any easier for him to hear.

He lost his right to be selfish with her in Malibu, and though he does gain a sense of happiness knowing he may have a chance with her again, it’s significantly outweighed by her sadness. Nothing had ever pained him more than that.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

She shakes her head, her fingers reaching up to tuck fallen pieces of hair behind her ear.

“Don’t be. I don’t really know why he decided to do this, anyways.”

Harry’s lips fall.

“Marry you?”

Y/n’s leg begins to shake, her greatest and most absentminded nervous habit. And Harry had always been quick to place his hand over her thigh and rub at the surface, meeting her eye halfway and taking a deep breath in, to which she would always follow. He hesitates to do so tonight, but settles for it anyway.

She looks appreciative beneath it all.

She’d forgotten about Harry’s subtle favors over the past three years, so to feel it all again when she has been so low and neglected feels like a blessing to her. It feels like somebody finally cares for her, and that’s all she had been wanting all along.

Harry, she feels, is the only one who ever truly has.

“We just never talked about it. It was this big, ginormous, unavoidable, life changing question thrown at me with no warning at all.” Her forehead falls to her palms, as if humiliated by the memory. “In front of everybody.”

Harry’s heart crumbles from within him because nothing Alfie has given her has been anything she’s wanted, and that’s not what she deserves.

He remembers it so distinctively now — the way she poured her heart out to him just a few months before Malibu. It was the third Valentine’s Day they’d spent together and Y/n got so drunk, she spent nearly the entire night venting to him about everything she’d feared when it came to her future relationships.

With her head on his shoulder and her leg slung over his hips, Y/n’s thoughts were so destructive, she couldn’t bear to entertain them any longer, so she decided to let it all out.

“And what if my boyfriend proposes to me in a room full of people? I’d drown in sensory overload. And what if I want to say no? Or maybe? Or yes, just not right now? With all those people looking at me? I think I would pass away.”

Harry looked down at her in subtle curiosity, his fingers playing with her hair in the way they always liked. She was the only thing in his sight that wasn’t spinning out of his control.

“So how do you want to be proposed to?”

She hummed, as if contemplating her answer. But she knew. She already knew.

“In bed, probably. It’s so intimate and private there. So non-traditional. You’re the most done down at your first hour and something about someone wanting you at your worst, forever, is so poetic.”

She looked up at him with doe eyes merely seconds after.

“Will you make sure he does that for me, please? Promise me you’ll try.”

He smiled the best he could at her, pressing his lips down to her forehead. They lingered there for a moment, and Y/n’s breath was taken away.

“I’ll make sure of it.”

What makes the memory even worse was how much he really did love her and how blinded he was to it. He kissed her. He held her. He played with her hair. He slept beside her that night. He kissed her again goodnight. He brought her breakfast in bed the next morning. He did it all over again.

It couldn’t have been any more obvious.

But there’s something about the way she hasn’t expressed any of those concerns with Alfie that doesn’t sit right with him. It just doesn’t make any sense to him.

“Been with him for how long now, two years? And you really didn’t expect him to propose to you? Have you met you?”

She sulks herself deeper into her knees.

“I don’t know. I guess — I guess I just never really thought about it.”

Never thought about it?

“But you’ve always wanted to get married.” He says it more like a question than a statement, genuine concern and confusion in his tone of voice as his eyebrows furrow, trying to comprehend it.

She looks up at him with a void, empty expression.

“Yeah, but never to him.”

Her eyes linger on Harry’s for just a beat longer — just long enough to catch a glimpse of the way his lips fall and the way his face drains of color — before she blinks away from him, turning her gaze back toward the garden. The flowers have never looked so lifeless.

“Y/n… if I had known how you felt, I —”

“It wouldn’t have mattered.” Y/n shakes her head, looking back down at her trembling hands, tears now burning in her eyes as the sudden sadness of the conversation starts to weigh down on her. “You had four years to feel the same for me and you never did. My feelings would have done nothing to yours.”

“And I never did?” Harry asks incredulously, his voice low and faltered behind the heaviness of her words. “Is that really what you’ve been living with the past three years?”

Loose tears begin to fall down her cheeks because yes, she has been living with his unrequited love for six years and no, it’s never gotten any easier. It’s pathetic and ridiculous and the most unexplainable form of grief she’d ever carried, but it’s the most devastating kind. “How could I think any differently?”

“Because it was real, Y/n. Fuck.” He lets out a strangled, dry chuckle upon his words as he runs his shaking fingers through his hair. He’s nervous, absolutely terrified because if he fails to show her how deeply he feels for her now, he may never get the chance to again, and losing her is no longer an option for him. Not when she’s so close. “Because you know me better than anybody else and you know I wasn’t faking it with you. How could I have been? You would have seen right through me and you know it. You always do.”

Perhaps the love blinded her. Perhaps her heart was so invested it deceived her to see only the things she wanted as a subconscious form of self-preservation. It’s not an impossible possibility, and it’s certainly one she believed in throughout all this time, but a part of her can’t help but find a hint of truth stuck somewhere between his words.

The kissing, the touching, the tasting, the laughing and the loving did feel real to her. It felt real when she saw the way he smiled after every one of their kisses, and the way he reached for her when it was just to two of them, like he couldn’t get enough, and the way he moaned against her, and the way he told her he loved her, like he meant it.

She knows all of his movements and all of his habits — knows all the signs of his stress, his sadness, his tension, his ease. She knows the emotions he wears and the ones he doesn’t, notices everything he does and doesn’t do, and never once did anything he did with her seem anything less than genuine.

She hates that it’s taken her so long to see that, but it doesn’t fix all that he had broken now that she does. She wishes that it could, this life would be so much easier for her to live.

“You really hurt me.” Her voice quivers, low and quiet as she speaks her truth, and it breaks his heart all over again. Never has he heard her sound so sad in his life, and it’s all because of him.

“You think I don’t know that? I hate myself for everything I put you through because you didn’t deserve it. You didn’t deserve any of it.”

He pauses, waiting for her to say anything else, but it doesn’t come. All there is for her to offer are her silent cries and waterfall eyes.

“That night with Lydia… nothing happened. She caught me off guard and I panicked because how could I not? She was giving me everything I thought I wanted yet all I could think about was how I wanted it to be you.” Y/n’s breath falters then, a knot forming in her chest as she revisits the sight of that horrific night. “I tried so hard to talk it out with her, but she wouldn’t let it go. She kept persisting and persisting and she didn’t give me the chance to explain myself before you walked in on us.”

She didn’t truly know what happened between him and Lydia, but she had her ideas. Whether they kissed, touched, confessed their love or crossed bases, the truth would have only made it worse for herself. Ignorance was bliss when it came to them.

But she didn’t think nothing happened, either, especially when the first words that Y/n heard Lydia say to him that night was I love you, too.

Too.

Like he said it first.

She really hopes he didn’t, but she’s so afraid of his answer that she doesn’t ask.

But she doesn’t say anything else, either, because there’s so much more she needs to hear from him but she doesn’t know where to start. She doesn’t know what to do, yet she wants to know everything.

“You were all I ever wanted and I’m so sorry for the way I had to find that out. I’m so sorry that I had to hurt you to realize how ridiculously in love I am with you.”

And how ridiculous it’s gotten.

“It haunts me. It follows me everywhere I go. Every morning, I think about the way you slept beside me in Malibu and how perfect you looked before you even had the chance to wake. I still reach for you even when I know you’re not there just so I can say I tried. Every time I walk the street, I somehow convince myself that I see you walk past me and I always turn back just in case I missed you. Then I spend the rest of my day wondering where you are and how much happier I’d be if you were with me.”

And it’s all so true.

She is around him at all times. Her spirit lingers in the air he breathes, her shadow alive in every ray of sun that touches his skin, unable to be soaked away. The ghost of her is everywhere he is, always, and it pained him just as much as it comforted him.

“I come across all these women and go on all these dates in hopes to find someone that makes me feel half the things you do, just to go home hours later and watch all the stupid videos and photos I’ve taken of you throughout the years because it’s you that my heart is after. Nobody else.”

She melts into herself at his confession.

To know it wasn’t one-sided — the longing, the missing, the wanting so bad that he couldn’t help but look back at all their memories together. Whether he was beside those women or not, she had done the very same thing, and it’s almost as if those hidden moments of desperation were a silent call to one another.

He reaches his hand to her thigh again, his skin warming her to her bitter core, setting a fire in her that had burnt out many years ago. And she doesn’t stop staring at it.

“I love you, Y/n. I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything else in this world. I love you so much that it drove me crazy to think about you spending the rest of your life with somebody else because I couldn’t imagine spending the rest of mine without you. But that’s my heartbreak to live with, not yours.”

But it is. It is because he’s the only one she’s ever wanted and living her life with someone else was once unimaginable. It still is. Even through her relationship with Alfie and everything they’ve built together, it wasn’t ever the same.

And it’s not a matter of her not loving him, because she does, just not in the way she loves Harry. He is a high she constantly fiends for, an intoxication that keeps her wild and free, an addiction like no other. Being without him makes her feel sober — in a constant state of withdrawal, falling down deeper into her urges, dependent solely on her relapses — and Alfie is just the mild distraction.

All of this is her heartbreak.

His fingertips rub softly at her leg.

“You’re the best person I’ve ever known. I don't know how I’m ever going to find a way to move on from you, and I don’t know if I ever will, but at least I had the chance to tell you everything you deserved to know. I didn’t think I’d ever have it.”

She still doesn’t answer him, but he didn’t expect anything more.

He wishes he could stay with her for just a bit longer, but he doesn’t want to overstay his welcome (if he could even call it that). And he starts to cry as he thinks about leaving her alone again.

She’s forever going to be his hardest loss.

“I have so much more I want to say to you, but this is your night with Alfie. I don’t want to be the one to hold you back from it.”

He squeezes the top of her thigh, dreading the let go. This may be the last time he sees her or speaks to her for a while, and that in itself is enough to make this so much harder on him.

“I’ll miss you everyday.”

He can’t even look at her as he says it.

His eyes are flooded with sadness as he stands from where he sat beside her, shaking fingers wiping at his tears, his heart the emptiest it’s ever been yet his chest heavier than ever before.

It suddenly dawns on her that she never wants to see him walk away from her again. She doesn’t want to go another dreaded day without him beside her, or go the rest of the night thinking of everything she could have said, but didn’t.

She wants him. She loves him. And she doesn’t want him to go.

“Wait.” She grabs his hand in both of hers before he can make it too far, her eyes wet but the brightest he’d ever seen them. “The party doesn’t end for a while and — and Alfie hasn’t come looking for me since it started, so…” She hesitates, his hands still in hers, and everything is right in the world again. “Do you want to take a walk with me? It doesn’t matter where just, please stay here with me?”

And how could Harry ever say no to her?

He lifts her up from where she sits, the first real and genuine smile he’s seen out of her since they’ve reunited spreading on her lips, and he wouldn’t trade this for the world.

They stray further than expected, catching up on everything they’ve missed throughout the years. It all feels so easy and so right, as if time had hardly passed between them, yet they’ve never felt more apart. Never once did they expect to live in each other’s world through late night storytelling and clandestine getaways.

They laugh. They cry. They reminisce. And they don’t let go of each other’s hand the whole night through.

Y/n returns to the back porch a couple hours later, grabbing the finished champagne glass she’d left on the top step to seem as inconspicuous as possible. Not that she necessarily has to, she doesn’t feel as though she’s done anything wrong, she just couldn’t imagine what would come from this if Alfie was to find out.

She slides the back door shut quietly behind her, the remaining guests only giving her a small smile of acknowledgement, none at all suspicious. Some offer her hugs and mingle with her, congratulating her as if it were their first time doing so, telling her how perfect of a marriage she and Alfie are going to have.

If only they knew.

But it isn’t until the last of the lingering guests make it out the door that Y/n and Alfie are left alone — the most dangerous place for them to be. And neither of them speak a word to each other, just meeting eyes for a brief moment in time, as if avoiding everything else that came with the night.

The air is heavy, the chill brutal, but it’s what Y/n is so used to. This is her normalcy.

“I’m glad you had fun tonight.” Y/n says plainly, gathering all the littered champagne and wine glasses floating around the kitchen.

In any other circumstance, she would have stood her ground much more strongly, but the bitterness inside her subsided to something much sweeter after her time with Harry. The weight of the world is gone, it seems, the moon and sun and stars aligned perfectly in her universe. She is weightless, floating, her spirit dancing along the edges of her own personal heaven.

The silence Alfie responds with doesn’t strike a nerve like it usually would. It rather goes unnoticed, only furthering her into her illicit dreamland.

Harry’s touch lingers on her skin and she can feel it all the same even though he’s gone. A shiver runs down her spine as she thinks back to the way his lips pressed against her cheek before parting ways, muttering the quietest goodnight, lovie against her skin, leaving her breathless.

She is endlessly hypnotized by him, forever under his spell, as if his lips were made of magic.

And Alfie’s heart sinks when he sees the look on her face. It’s been years since he’s seen it, yet it’s all so familiar once he does. It’s the same look he fell in love with when he first met her in Malibu.

It’s all so clear to him now.

“So we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t leave our engagement party with Harry?”

Y/n lifts her head to look at him properly for what seems to be the first time tonight, his question catching her off guard since she had so rightfully assumed he wasn’t concerned about her whereabouts, and Harry didn’t make his presence known to anybody but her.

But she doesn’t fight it, doesn’t deny it, doesn’t try to scrape for excuses that’ll only dig her in deeper because she doesn’t regret what she did or why she did it. She has no reason to.

“And we’re just going to pretend that you didn’t completely exclude me from our engagement party?”

Alfie’s hands slam against the kitchen counter, a bitter and sarcastic laugh falling from his lips, as if she had said something untrue. “So I don’t give you attention for two minutes and you decide to run off with some other guy?”

“Two minutes? Try two hours on a night that was supposed to be for us.” It’s her turn to slam her hands down, except hers land on her thighs. “I was sitting on our back porch all night and nobody, not even you, came looking for me.” She sits down on the island stool with burnt-out eyes and heavy shoulders, drained from the reality of their relationship, tired of trying for somebody that’s never held her heart the right way. “Harry was miles away and even he found a way to find me.”

And just like always, it all circles back to Harry.

She’s never been one to compare — verbally, at least — so there is a gloom that hovers over her after she says it, the guilt settling in her bones, but it’s the reality of their situation. An old lover held his hand out to her while Alfie refused hers, and it ended up exactly where it had always belonged.

“All you had to do was ask me to be with you.” He sighs, depleted, because it’s true. He would have been there the second she called his name. It’s the fact that she didn’t that shows him how incompatible he is with her wants.

“I shouldn’t have to.” She frowns, fingers fiddling with the skin around her nails as she contemplates what there is to say next. “Is that how this marriage is going to work? Me begging you to be there for me all the time? Because I’ve never been that kind of person. I will never be that person.”

Alfie breathes heavily in response but doesn’t know what else to do or say to get her to stay. She’s slipping right through his fingers and he can physically feel it — can feel the way she feels for another man, can see the way her eyes refuse him, as if hiding away from something.

But this isn’t about him, it can’t be because it was all going so well, so much better than ever before and nothing ever pushed her away, until Harry.

This is all him.

“You know he doesn’t love you, right?” Alfie breaks the silence, her heart along with it, because she needs to be reminded how badly he had done her wrong. She wouldn’t be turning him into the villain if she did. “He lied to you. He used you to get what he wanted. He —”

“He does love me.” She interrupts him because she doesn’t want to hear it. She doesn’t want him to talk her out of this, no matter how much she should. But it’s on the tip of her tongue, almost breaking from its resistance, and she can’t swallow it back down now. “He was there for me more than you were tonight and he’s not even the one I’m engaged to.”

Another deafening silence.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

He understood her, loud and clear, but she’s speaking between the lines. There’s a part of her that’s holding back from something and he already knows what it is, he just needs to hear her say it.

So she does.

“I’m in love with him, Alfie.”

If the confession of her disloyalty wasn’t enough to tear her apart, the choked back sob she heard from Alfie undeniably did so.

She shuts her eyes, pained, unable to take it.

He doesn’t deserve this, but she’s left with no choice. She’ll only hurt him more if she stays.

So she doesn’t.

The morning after.

Harry didn’t know what was to come after he confessed his love to Y/n — whether it be a new day of a new life away from her, or the beginning of something so beautifully timeless, he had no idea.

The closure warmed him enough to lull him to sleep, to keep him deep in a dreamstate where all he envisioned was sunny days and the touch of her hand in his. He had never felt so light, so free, so liberated from the cage of guilt and unspoken truths that even if he were to never see or hear from Y/n again, it would have been okay.

He said what he needed to say, she heard what she wanted to hear and that’s all he could have done without interfering with her relationship.

But what he wakes up to is far from anything that ever crossed his mind.

Seven missed calls and five text messages. All from Y/n.

H, please tell me you’re awake. I need you.

I ended it with Alfie.

I don’t have anywhere to go and you’re the only person I want to see right now. Can you meet me at the coffee shop? I really need to talk to you.

Please wake up.

Harry sits himself up in a state of panic, his eyes jumping between the time she had messaged him last and the time it is now. And he springs himself out of bed when he realizes that he hasn’t missed out on her yet, planning to get to her as fast as he can as he throws yesterday’s outfit, not at all caring about how it makes him look.

She ended it with Alfie.

He’s the only person she wants to see right now.

She needs him.

That’s all he can process as he scurries down the street, thinking of everything he has left to tell her to try and win her heart again. He knows he’s undeserving of it, and she does too, but that doesn’t stop him from loving her the way that he does.

His life is meaningless without her, so dry and bleak and depressing he can’t live another day like it. He can’t and he won’t because he’s going to fix this. He has to fix this.

And it doesn’t take him long to find her because there she is, sitting at their usual outdoor table, a large hot tea held between her hands, her leg shaking, her eyes distant. It's such a heartbreaking sight, and he suddenly wonders if she ever sat there after their breakup, waiting for him, hoping he’d do the very same.

The thought makes his head twitch to the side and fingers twist with guilt because no, he never did. He never went back to that coffee shop since the goodbye. It would have hurt too much, it would have reminded him of everything he’d ever done wrong and he couldn’t bear to face the person he once made of himself.

That person died along with her.

She stands from her seat when she sees him walking toward her, exhausted mentally and physically enough to nearly fall from her feet in the process. But her heart is racing a million miles an hour, her stomach fluttering as he grows nearer, her senses of anything but the love she has for him disappearing to nothing, as if it were just the two of them.

And she just needs to know if it feels that way for him, too.

“Y/n —”

“Did you mean it?”

Harry hesitates then, stopping in his tracks, his head tilting at her in curiosity but his features are softer, sadder, as if the question somehow broke him down further than before.

She doesn’t need to elaborate because he already understands what she’s asking. It was his mistakes and his selfishness that led her to question all his intentions, to doubt every sentiment he’s ever given to her, to wonder what was real and what was pretend.

But he doesn’t know what to start with, he doesn’t know what she needs to hear from him to be satisfied with his answer, or know if what he doesn’t say is what breaks this relationship.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you meant it.” Y/n demands when he fails to answer her, tears flooding yet her face pressed and hard, committed to hearing every last bit of truth he has left. “Because I gave up everything I had for just the smallest possibility that you did. And that may make me weak, that may make me pathetic, and I may hate myself for the rest of my life knowing I made that decision but I can’t help feeling the way I feel for you.”

This is his last chance.

The window of opportunity is open and he is more than willing to dive head first out of it, but he can’t get ahead of himself. One wrong move, one wrong word, one wrong anything and he will have to endure an eternity of misery without her.

So he gives her more than she demands.

He grabs her face between his two hands, gently stroking her cheeks with the pads of his thumbs, his gaze set on hers so that she can see how deeply he feels for her and how desperate he is for her forgiveness.

“I meant it.” He breathes out, his lips so painfully close to hers, she can feel his breath as he talks and it makes her legs shake from beneath her. “I’m in love with you. You’re all I think about. You’re all I want.” He leans in closer, ever so slightly, just so the ghost of her lips can meet the ghost of his. “There’s never been anybody but you. Just you. Only you.”

Her breath stammers, quivering and cracking as she flutters her eyes shut at his words, unforgiving tears pouring down her cheeks. And she doesn’t know why she’s reacting this way — the love of her life is giving her everything she’s ever asked for and yet all she can manage to do is break down from everything she’d been keeping inside for so long.

He knees buckle as a particularly violent sob nearly takes her down, and if it wasn’t for Harry’s strong hold on her, she’s sure she would have collapsed to the floor.

Her tears, his shirt, his hands, her back.

This is the closest they’ve been to each other in so long, his heart nearly shatters along with hers. He missed this more than he missed anything else in this world.

“Don’t cry, baby. It’s alright. You’re alright.” Harry shushes her, his lips settling on the top of her head as he presses chaste kisses on it, his fingers combing through her unbrushed hair. “I’m with you, okay? I’m never leaving you again.”

And he holds her for a while, tying her together as she falls apart in his arms, vowing to her over and over again that this is all over. All the pain is over. Everything will be different now.

And it was.

It felt different when Y/n and Harry spent the rest of the morning sitting in their favorite coffee shop, at their favorite table, drinking their favorite lattes. It felt different when Harry reached his hand over to hold hers, this time with no ulterior motive.

It felt different when she held his hand back, and when she smiled down at where they were intertwined, as if they were an extension of each other.

And unlike the last time they were there together, he doesn’t have to let go.

#harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #IM EARLY I KNOW IM SORRY BUT I FINISHED SOONER THAN EXPECTED #WHOOP WHOOP #LOVE YALL

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technowoah · 3 years

Text

Taunt

It only takes one time to realize you fucked up.

- ANON REQUESTED!

- WILBUR X FEM! READER BLURB

PROMPTS!

50) "Fuck off... I mean it"

24) "Get in the car" "..." "please get in the car"

⚠︎ angst to fluff, swearing, based on the song Taunt by Lovejoy ❤🐈 its short btw yall

[Updated 3 hours after upload I messed up the prompts sorry yall now it fixed]

She was always asking if he was alright. He always lied to her just to get her off his back for the night, but it was his fault that he wanted her to move in. He has to deal with that all of the time, it was her fault anyways. She made him upset, she made him not alright. She didn't know that. She constantly complained about things that didn't even concern her, she dodged their relationship making it more about her than them.

It was tiring to him. Constantly providing, trying to tie a broken knot, but he didnt let that get in the way of his career, or his friends. There's another issue, he never talked to his friends about her. She accused him of not being proud of their relationship and that became a problem that never got resolved.

Did anyone ever say "no" to her? Well if no one did, he would be the first one to do so. Fuck that.

He listened, and listened, but nothing kept this relationship together.

Wilbur talked to the three people chatting on his discord through his headphones as a soft LED lights flowed through the room. These nights were simple because she didnt have to see him when he decides to stream, he basically has his time set out for himself without trouble. He wasn't ecstatic, he felt horrible, but the facadè was there.

Her on the other hand wasnt happy either. She never got attention from him, and of course she could get moody from time to time like every other human being, but she always took it out on him. Who else was gonna be there for her? He acted like her cared, she knew he was lying. His "caring" consisted of humming and him responding like a default character in a video game. He didn't care, he acted like he never did. She needed that attention and he knew damn well she did.

She wasnt asking for much, at least to her it did feel like it. She knew when she was wrong, but she didn't want to admit it when they were both in the wrong too. They dont get each other, she didnt know why he asked her to move in when he didn't want anything to do with her. Ever since he moved her in he kept her in check like a child, she hated and loved that at the same time. Its true that she wanted her own way, she did what she wanted and gave her attention to whoever she wanted her attention to be. She thought that was fine, but apparently she dosent give any effort to the relationship.

Rolling her eyes at the thought she decided to leave the dishes in the sink dirty. She thought about leaving and finding someone who will get her, yes Wilbur listened to her, but there was no effort. When he's drunk and tries to "figure out what makes her brain tick" ends up in more distaster.

Lying in the couch her mind began to wonder, he always said that she could get away with anything. She always took it as a taunt. Everytime it was brought up. He called it "pretty privilege" and he always taunts her saying she abuses that power.

Her jaw clenched as she recalled those memories. Summoning the courage she brought herself up onto her feet and rushed to their shared bedroom. Taking a deep breath she opened their closet and started pulling her things off of hangers, not caring if she made a mess. She tossed her clothes onto the messy bed that they didn't bother to make this morning.

Bringing a small backpack out from underneath the bed she tried shoving most of her clothes into a bag for a night. In total frustration she emptied the bag and only backed necessities that she would need for the night.

She was tired of him and he was tired of her so she was doing both of them a favor. She made her way out of the door grabbing a coat and sliding on some simple shoes. Shooting a quick text to a close friend letting them know she's coming over. Her friend wasn't that close, but she decided to walk. As she locked the door to their shared apartment she debated texting Wilbur. She didnt want to, but she didnt want him to freak the fuck out because she wasnt home.

( Wilbur )

Me: Ill be back for the rest of my stuff tmrw.

[Read]

She closed her phone and started on her night time journey down the street trying to let everything from the past few weeks go with the cool wind.

Him on the other hand stayed silent. He had just finished his stream and had gotten a text saying that she'll be back for the rest of her things. This was inevitable, one of them had to leave, but to him it didnt seem right. He didn't want her to leave. Something in his heart was making him chase her back, the same thing in his heart that moved her into his apartment in the first place. Maybe it was love, maybe he wanted to persevere and have someone in his life. Something in his mind was telling him that he let go of something special.

Wilbue thought about it as he shut everything off and went to go grab his belongings, before rushing out the door to try and find her. Sadly to his discovery, she turned off her location. He finally made it to his car and started driving towards his house to see if she was around there.

He couldn't call a friend because she never introduced her friends to him. She did that on purpose because of him not doing the same. As he drove down the not so busy streets of Brighton he thought if he could get to know her, pull emotions and feelings out of her and see the real her. And if he cant do that? Who knows what will happen.

He remembers this face she always pulled when he always said "Im alright." She scrunched up her nose in annoyance and he always took it as a taunt because he couldn't figure out the real meaning. They were both going at this the wrong way, he dosent know anything about her and maybe thats the problem, but she needs to calm down as well. She needs to start paying attention to both of them instead of herself.

He was seated at a stoplight until he saw a figure on the sidewalk walking past him. The person looked shocked then kept walking, but even faster this time. He rolled down the window to see it was Y/n walking. Wilbur ran the red light and found a place to turn the car around to follow her. He drove a couple of feet in front of her before putting his hazard lights on and stepping out of the car to confront her.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" Wilbur said while getting our of his car.

"Im getting away from you. And what are you doing here?" She said.

"Well I could ask you the same thing. Its not safe out here alone." He calmed down a little. Wilbur's main goal was to get her back home so they can have a civilized talk. He didn't want to be out here.

"Oh? Ive been fine for the past fifteen minutes." She sasser back.

"That dosent mean its not safe!" He exclaimed.

She stayed quiet so that gave Wilbur an opportunity to speak.

"See, I want us to go home so we can have a civilized talk without feeling defensive. I want to get to know you, I know you're my girlfriend and yes, it was my mistake rushing things. Im not putting the blame all on myself either." He finished and she stayed quiet with her arms crossed infront of her chest.

"Are you cold-?"

"Fuck off...I mean it." She said while trying to pass hin on the street.

He stood in her way and he kept doing that every time she tried to get around him. Wilbur saw that she was getting annoyed at his actions. Wilbur held her by both of her biceps trying to hold her still so he could talk.

"You're being childish!"

"Fucking listen to me! You cant just keep walking away from us! From me! This is not healthy!" Wilbur yelled. He let go if her and surprisingly she stayed there.

"Get in the car." He ordered but she stayed silent. "Please get in the car."

She turns around gets in the passenger seat if Wilbur's car. He sighed a sigh if relief and followed her lead. They both got settled into the car and he didn't move. He wasn't going to drive unless she talked to him. After a minute if silence she spoke up.

"I know its- its both of our faults. And i have some things I need to work on. I cant just run away. Also your thoughts of me need to be rearranged, but I need to give you all of me. At leat 50 percent so we can start somewhere. But Im sorry." She said while she looked down at her lap maybe in embarrassment.

In the end they both wanted to fix themselves. In the end they wanted eachother. And they can both see that.

He leaned over the armrest and gave her a kiss on her cheek. She turned to him with a surprise look on her face, like this was the most affection he gave her, because it was true. She grabbed his hand that rested on the armrest too as he started to drive towards their home together.

As the nightly drive continues on and now shes drifting off in the passenger seat as In Love With An E-girl plays softly. She's left too tired to talk with Wilbur and be in touch with her emotions right now, but she'll do it for the both of them this time.

#mcyt blurb #mcyt angst #mcyt fluff #mcyt x reader #mcyt headcanons #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot headcanons #wilbur soot blurb #wilbur x reader #irl wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot angst #mcyt x you #mcyt imagines #mcyt x y/n #wilbur soot x you

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rotten-dan · 3 years

Text

tw: Death

finding balance between trying to have normal days and enjoy things and letting myself cry as much as i need and...'clean' stuff up is

very hard...

people telling me and reassuring me with things like "She loved you as much as you loved her" and 'thank you for giving her a home/being her parent" really really helps with the guilt processing. it wasn't my fault but the brain looks to where to put the blame and I'm the closest thing

her urn hasn't come in yet but i already set up a shrine and got candles for her

i have all kinds of mementos and little things of her to keep me sane, and when she has come in the form of an urn, she will be back home, where she belongs.

Im sorry yall i just loved...love my Nena.

i already was having such a weird artist block and now this... i just

I.. idk if ive mentioned but i take care of this cat that lives outside since i found her in such a skinny stage. and took care of her kittens (all adopted) and her surgery. she has never wanted to come in and Nena hated her. but now, Ive decided to...kind of force her in (still scared), and make her space

I know it sounds like I'm trying to replace Nena. but I'm not, i just want to give another cat closest to me a safe place...

i will continue to shelter cats that people bring me, i heard thats that good way to heal

#ghost talk #negative

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spoopyredacted · 4 years

Text

unheavenly creatures

chapter four

clan leader mand’alor!din x shayr’la(ofc) 1.7k

masterlist / pinterest

chapter one / chapter three / chapter five

description: we have some soft dummies on our hands yall. dancing, cheeky comments, palm kiss?!

a/n: @tiffdawg is literally a godsend. she listens to me ramble on and on about these two and always helps me through my writing blanks. i love her with all my heart. i decided to break this chapter up because one(1) im excited, and two(2) the next two scenes are heavy and i didn’t want to wait a million years to update again. so we get a shorter chapter this time.

———

Don’t you care?

Yes.

———

TWO WEEKS BEFORE THE JOR’ADIR BE NUHUR

The Mand’alor paces back and forth in the throne room, waiting for Shayr’la to show. I should have just found her myself, Paz might— The door creaks open, interrupting his train of thought, and Shayr’la walks in. Her long golden dress stands contrast against her dark skin and the Mand’alor thinks, like he has so often lately, about how beautiful she looks.

He walks to her, the sound of his boots echo around the room, with a greeting resting just on the tip of his tongue but the closer he gets the more he notices she’s upset. Her cheeks are blotchy and her normally clear brown eyes are now red rimmed and puffy. She’s been crying. “Ka’ra?” He reaches her and cups her face in his gloved hands, rubbing his thumbs over the apples of her cheeks. “Are you alright?”

She doesn't want to answer him, scared her voice will crack and give away too much emotion. She brings her hands up to cover over his and she nods, nuzzling into his palms.

“Okay, Ka’ra.” She knows that he doesn’t believe her, but she can’t bring herself to tell him what Paz said, that he felt compelled to say those things to her.

Did he not see that she did care?

She just… It takes… It hurts.

Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to calm herself back down. Inhaling the leather and woodsy musk that is ultimately him, she turns her face into the leather of his gloves and kisses it. Not realizing what she’s done until it's too late, just caught up in the comfort he always seems to provide for her.

Oh.

Shayr’la clears her throat, trying to break the tension she’s accidentally created. “Paz said you wanted to see me.” She looks up into the black T of his visor. “Did you need something, Mand’alor?”

She hasn’t moved away.

“I.. uh, yes.” He slides a hand to the back of her neck, slow , and takes a small step towards her. “We need to practice.” She cocks her head to the side, a mimic of the Mandalorians around her, he wonders if she realizes that she has picked up the little quirk.

Cute.

“Practice?” she questions. “Practice what?” He invades her senses, her space, her mind, her soul . And she allows him to maneuver her head, tilting it up with a thumb to her jaw. She unconsciously moves closer to him, like an invisible string tying them together; a pull to one another that neither wants to admit to and yet they have no control over.

The rasp of his voice comes through the modulator answering her, “Te redalur.”

———

The Mand’alor starts the music, something with a flowing beat that repeats itself and is easy to keep time to. He walks back to the center of the room where she is waiting for him. She looks nervous, hands twisting with one another.

“Just follow my lead, Ka’ra.” He nods his helmet at her in encouragement trying to swallow down his own nerves.

Shaking out her arms to loosen up, she pushes back the voice of Paz telling her she doesn’t belong, that she doesn’t care. She does. Taking a deep breath in, she steadies herself, looks back, and acknowledges that she is ready.

For anything.

The Mand’alor lifts his right arm, bent at the elbow, palm facing Shayr’la and she mimics him. Taking a step to her he matches their forearms together but doesn’t clasp her hand. He walks her through the first few steps his eyes taking in her form and the determination set in her face. Half to make sure she is following his lead and keeping in time, and half because he can’t drag himself to look away from her.

They twirl around the room in time with the music, only stumbling in their steps occasionally, “You’re doing very well Ka’ra,” she looks up to the visor, a smile gracing her lips, but before she can speak she trips over her feet as they spin and he's there catching her, pulling her into him before she has a chance to fall. The laugh that escapes her causes his heart to clench and warmth blooms in his chest.

He wants to hear her laugh more.

He wants to cause that laughter.

———

The Mand’alor watches her as she tries to take in the next steps he showed her, a series of side steps and a flourish of a spin to end it. It was a simple end to the dance that they have been practicing for a while.

“Why do they call you Vizsla?” Shayr’la keeps her head down, memorizing the steps she’s taking. The question has been plaguing her for months but she never felt that there was a good time to ask, and if the name is soon to be her own she might as well ask now, “Is it really your last name?”

He steps to her before answering, pulling her into his arms, they start again when the beat begins its repeat, “No, no it is not.” He’s not surprised by her questioning and he's happy to oblige her. “A long time ago on another planet there used to be many of us, many different clans, many different leaders, Alor’s—”

She interrupts his explanation, looking up to him excited that she recognizes one of their words, “The children have called me that, I wasn’t sure what it meant.” There’s a sparkle in her eye. He can tell she wants to learn, that she wants to know more about them. She wouldn’t spend hours in the story halls translating and scribing the stories if she didn’t.

Paz is mistaken. She does belong here. She wants to be here.

Right?

“—yes,” he takes her hands pulling her into him bringing their bodies flush together, a small puff of air escapes her as one of his arms wraps around her waist, settling into the dip of her lower back. She looks up to him, it almost never fails that she finds his eyes and this time is no exception.

“You will be my wife,” he doesn’t mean for it to sound so possessive, but it does. And he likes it. Does she? “So in turn you will be their leader.” He spins her out, letting her go as far as he can, until they are only held together by each other’s fingertips. “That is, if you want to be.”

He pulls her back into him, his arms resuming their hold around her body. They’re close, so close , that if it weren’t for his helmet they would be breathing each other in, consuming one another.

If they wanted.

Shayr’la’s eyes dance across the emotionless helmet, forever seeing her own reflection looking back at her. Never the face beneath. She wonders what he looks like, if his eyes are as kind as she thinks they are. If his voice is just as rough and pleasant sounding without the modulator. Does he have stubble or a beard lining his face? Or does he shave everyday to keep it from irritating?

How does he look when he smiles?

He’s so caught up in her gaze that he hasn’t realized he’s stopped talking. Stopped moving. They’re just staring at each other. Wrapped up in each other’s arms. The Mand’alor drags his gloved hand up her spine sending a shiver through her body and pulling her out of her own thoughts.

“Mand’alor?” she whispers out, not wanting to break whatever is happening.

His hand rubs at the bare skin between her shoulder blades, he doesn’t know what he’s doing but he knows he doesn't want to stop. “I— sorry, Ka’ra,” he apologizes, his own voice just barely caught in his vocoder. Though he doesn’t take any movement to stop the drag of his hand along the edges of her dress at her back, or to separate himself from her embrace.

In a hushed tone she asks “Do you want to take it off?”

He cocks his helmet to the side in confusion and shock at her question. His hand stilling at her back with a finger hooking underneath the fabric there, “You— I—” the Mand’alor stumbles over his words as his brain tries to catch up to what Shayr’la asked him.

“What?”

Smirking at his bewilderment and finding his stupor amusing she wonders, “Do you ever want to take it off?”

“The helmet?” he slides his finger along the back of her dress, sliding up her shoulder. He plays with the fabric that lays gently there, almost teasing it. Moving it only slightly, gauging her reaction. He doesn’t see any objection in her eyes. No hesitance to his movement. Maybe only a hesitance in wanting to let herself crave.

She nods. Whether it be from his spoken, or unspoken question he doesn’t know. But he’s not going to argue with her.

Not when the leather of his glove drags across her skin. Caressing it. Feeling the warmth from her skin bleed through. How would it feel against his bare skin?

Against his palm?

His lips.

They can’t help but gravitate towards one another. Drawn in by something neither one wants to put a word to. Too afraid it could break. That it could shatter into a million pieces and then they would never be able to put it back together. So she looks away from him, eyes cast down to the few necklaces that lay against his chest. Reaching out to touch them, her fingers dance over the chains and beads there.

What do they mean?

“Recently.” His voice timid, just picked up by the helmet. Shayr’la closes her eyes at the feel of his gloved hand rounding her shoulder and dragging along her collarbone to rest at the base of her throat.

A pause.

A moment.

A break.

A swallow.

And then movement. His fingers curl around the back of her neck while his thumb caresses the hollow of her neck. He glides his hand up, tilting her head to look directly at him. Eyes open— wide, and dilated, and bright.

And there’s a fire in her stare.

“I’ve been thinking about it.”

———

Te redalur - the dance

Jor’adir be nuhur - celebration of good times

@mylifeliterally @tintinwrites @damerondjarin @shadow-assassin-blix @mikeisthricedeceased @djxrxn @theocatkov @buckstaposition @wrestlingfae @mostly-megan @tiffdawg @generaldamneron @softpedropascal @hardcorewwetrash @helplessly-nonstop @maybege @ollypopp @housekenobi @lettherebrelight @himbodjarin @the-bird-suit @obaby-wan @mitchi-c @nominalnebula @perropascal @roxypeanut @neverlandlibrarian @adampage @johnc0nstantine @goldafterglow @skylerrae-solo @bisexual-space-slut @sin-djarin @mandoplease @blue-writes-a03 @velvetmel0n @opheliaelysia @veuliee2 @eternallyvenus @gallowsjoker @mrpascals @thirstworldproblemss @smarchit @unstoppableforcce @haley-the-comet @stardust-galaxies @wanderlustmags @littlevodika @roxypeanut

(i have to tag the rest in a reblog because this website is stupid)(also can y’all let me know if you got the notification)

#the mandalorian #sw #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x oc #cl!din #julia tries writing

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starlightkenobi · 4 years

Note

can i get a master anakin x Padawan reader and maybe the sexual tension between them has been growing and then he finally snaps he’s like 🥺 dominant and reader has a praise kink 🥺

😩💦💦💦 hell yes, dom anakin is my SHIT ! and praise kink ? fuck. me.

a/n: im actually really proud of this and i like it a lot,,,,if yall like this maybe ill go feral and make part two 🤫😉

update: i made a part 2 ! here it is :)

My Padawan // Anakin x Reader (Part 1)

rating: explicit

warnings: dom anakin, prasie kink, some subspace although it isnt explicitly mentioned

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Anakin Skywalker. Your master, the guy you were madly in love with, the only person that you felt truly saw you. He consumed your thoughts 24/7. Some of your thoughts were innocent, while others...not so much. You were in a constant turmoil over whether you wanted his mouth to softly press against yours or to devour you in between your legs. Right now, both seemed like appealing options. You wanted to be with him, wanted to really show him how much you care for and appreciate him. However, you were unsure if he was willing to break the Jedi code for you. Maybe, you thought, you would have a chance with with him in another universe. But here, you were bound by a code both you and your crush swore not to break. Even still, you longed for Anakin in any way you could have him. You longed for him to take you, to decide what he wants to do with your body. You wanted him to absolutely destroy you and then shower you with love afterwards. How could breaking the code be so bad anyways if-

“Hello?” Your head snapped up as you were dragged from your thoughts. “I was trying to compliment you, and here you are off in a different galaxy.” Your eyes cautiously met his, apologetic and embarrassed.

“Sorry, master. You know how I can get lost in my head sometimes.” You chuckled awkwardly, hoping he couldn’t sense how desperately you were craving him right now.

“Yeah, I know all too well.” Anakin laughed and your heart practically melted. His laughter was intoxicating, and his smile could change your mood in an instant. Damn, he’s so beautiful-

“Hey!” Anakin snapped his fingers. “Don’t let me lose you again. Anyways, what I was trying to say is that you did really well today and I’m very proud of you.” You smiled and blushed.

“Thank you, master.”

“I know this mission has been very tedious and hard on you, but you’ve really impressed me with how well you’ve handled it.” You felt the heat rise in your cheeks even more somehow, and you cleared your throat. His praise would have been endearing, had it not been for the arousal stirring between your legs. You crossed them uncomfortably.

“T-thank you, master. It really was nothin-”

“I’m serious. You’ve become such a beautiful person, and I couldn’t be more proud of what you’ve accomplished. You’re going to make an incredible Jedi master someday, far better than I could ever be.” Anakin smiled genuinely, and reached out to grab your hand.

Your mouth was open slightly in shock. You had no idea how to respond or if you should just accept the compliments. The wetness you could feel gathering between your legs also wasn’t helping. “I...don’t know what to say.”

Anakin chuckled. “You don’t have to say anything.” Suddenly, Obi Wan cleared his throat from across the room, startling both of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I assumed that you both would like to know that we’re almost back to Coruscant.” Obi Wan looked between you and Anakin, seeing your hand held tightly in his. He gave a disapproving glare before turning on his heels and leaving the room.

You felt his grip release your hand and looked back up towards him, your eyes glassy and pleading with him, some last desperate attempt to have his hand back on yours. As much as he wanted to do much more than just hold your hand, he was bound by the code. Still, deep down you knew that he could only keep his resolve for so long. Soon enough, he was going to break.

And hopefully, soon after that, he would break you.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Again, you awoke in a sweat, desperate with your fists tangled in the sheets. You were dreaming of Anakin all over you, inside you. This wasn’t something new to you. You were used to the fragmented and constantly interrupted sleep that was plagued (or blessed...yeah, you decided to go with blessed) with vivid dreams of Anakin taking you apart piece by piece. They felt too real, too tangible to be just a dream. Maybe they were visions, you pondered. Then again, maybe that was just the hopeful side of your brain taking over. It didn’t matter right now. Either way, you were stuck, alone in your bed craving a man who took an oath to never take you.

A knock on your door startled you, and you stayed silent. Who would be knocking on your door at almost three in the morning anyways? Your question was answered soon enough.

“I know you’re awake, you know. I could here your thoughts all the way from my quarters.” Anakin spoke from the other side of your door. Well, this wasn’t ideal. He was probably referring to your dream, in fact, you were sure of it. Great, so he came to reprimand you for thoughts that you not only couldn’t control, but were extremely embarrassed by.

“If you’re going to scold me, then you can just leave.” You rolled over, prepared for the sound of his footsteps getting further from your door.

“Why would I do that? You’d much rather that I praise you, isn’t that right?” Your breath caught in your throat. Scolding is one thing, but mocking you? That was just downright cruel. “I’m not mocking you, little one.” Your walls shot up, immediately guarding him from what was in your mind. In your half asleep state, they were down. Clearly that was a mistake. On another note, Anakin wasn’t mocking you. That was a surprise.

“I’m coming in.” You sat up in your bed and saw the door swing open almost impatiently, his pale skin shone in the moonlight, and you were sure yours did as well considering the sheen of sweat you were still in. His eyes sparkled with adoration or lust, you weren’t quite sure, as he made strides to sit beside you on the bed. You waited patiently for him to say something or make a move. He appeared to be pondering his words very carefully, something that he didn’t often do.

“I can sense your fear.” He brought one of his hands to rest on your thigh, a thin sheet preventing you from feeling his large hand on your skin. “Fear of what will happen if we break the code, if the council finds out.” A short, dry laugh escaped his lips as he was clearly amused with what he was about to say. “Even fear that I didn’t want you.” Your eyes widened, maybe he really did want you. “Don’t ever think for a second that I don’t want to have every inch of you, because I do.” He could see you practically melting before him with every word that tumbled from his lips. His lips, they would feel so soft and warm pressed against yours. Your composure chipped away and it took every fiber of your being to not lunge at him and kiss him passionately.

The hand that rested on your thigh traveled to your cheek, and you leaned into his palm affectionately. The relief of skin to skin contact, it was divine. You wanted more, you craved more. You would take absolutely anything he gave you. “You’re so gorgeous, padawan. My padawan.” Before you could stop it, you moaned softly. It was a moan of relief and pure bliss. His voice, his touch, it was consuming you and you couldn’t do anything but let yourself be enveloped in the feeling.

“You like that, huh padawan? You like feeling smaller than your master.” He cooed shifting his body to position himself closer to you. “Maybe you just like being called mine. Because you are. You are mine in every sense of the word. Your mind, your body, everything you are working for and everything you have been taught belongs to me.” You were slipping, deep into a head space that you couldn’t escape. You wanted to give him everything you had just so that he could take care of you. You craved that feeling of belonging to him and only him. “In the same regard, I belong to you, my padawan. As your master, it is my duty to guide you, give you everything you need.” Anakin’s breath fanned over your lips and you shuddered, opening your eyes to see him inches from your face. “Do you need me, my padawan?” You nodded, too dazed and entranced to form words. “Use your words, little one. I want to hear you say it.”

“I need you, master.” You mumbled, eyes half shut with lust.

“Good girl.” His lips crashed against yours.

#anakin smut #anakin x reader #fanfic #star wars #the clone wars #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi

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blackopiu-m · 4 years

Text

loverboy

pairing : college student!Park Jisung, college student!Reader

Genre : fluff

Warnings : none (?) ok maybe not proofread + english not my native language

yall be kind im noob writer

You fell asleep in the bus on your way to school

If it wasn’t for the cutie emo boy who noticed your university emblem in your backpack

You would’ve fucked up biggie

“Um…excuse me, this is the university stop” he said shyly smiling before getting off the bus

You had to submit your psychology assignment before class starts

Thanks to emo boy who saved your ass you had now time to run to the class and talk to your professor

Ms. Seo, your psychology professor, is someone you admire and she loves how you are passionate about the science she teaches

But err, you have been procrastinating on this assignment for a month now

“Look who finally decided it was time to be serious” she said while you were handing her the papers

“it’s just…a lot of things happened ma’am, I had troubles fixing my schedule at the library and it stressed me so much”

“Alright, I will check it later, go take a seat.”

You took a seat at the back of the class –just in case- you needed to get that sleep

Psychology was your only class for the day

So after the class ended you went to check up on the new assistant in the library

Now that you became a librarian with an income

Hehe money + books = all you could ask for=love

It was part of your job to help the first year students who are going to become librarians toonext year

My assistant is a drama student

She’s so tall; I think she’s 170cm tall?

She was pretty

And pretty famous

The amount of people I catch taking glances at her..whew

I mean she is SO cute

And I look like a potato when I’m standing close to her

My ass 162cm what did you expect

“y/n, hi!” she said all excited “you’re finally here, my first class professor was absent so I decided I could help Kun out here…Oh also, some documents that were supposed to be back yesterday aren’t here…” she said frowning at her notepad

“it’s not that big of a problem, don’t worry, did you tell Kun about it? By the way where is he?” I put my backpack at the receptionist desk, aka my and Kun’s desk then headed to the staff room

“KUN”

Oh here he is

“Kun bestie”

“what do you want” he said, not raising his head from the pile of books he was organizing

“someone forgot to bring back books, what do we do?”

He sounds pissed but trust me he’s not, he’s just busy

He’s a l w a y s busy

Okay not when I need him to help me

Mf such a softie I love him so much

We’ve been besties for two years

But sadly he’s graduating this year :(

I remember he picked me up when it was raining, after I got stood up hhh

That man is my angel

“the ones first year told me about? Don’t worry Jisung will bring them tomorrow, he just texted me”

“Jisung? Who is that?”

“ second year drama student, he’s friends with renjun you don’t know him” he said, finally raising his head from the pile

“I don’t know him, i haven’t talked to renjun in a while”

You got off the shift at 7pm

Kun was in charge of the night shift tonight

Now you can go home

And

s l e e p

of course, your brain had to play all of your embarrassing episodes before it shuts down

and you just remembered the bus guy

man, you forgot you snort while sleeping

bye

this embarrassment is just hitting you

but the guy was cute

and he attends the same uni as you

he was a potential boyfie and you ruined it y/n loser

you have to stop thinking about him and s l e e p

come on you can do it

the next day, all of your classes were online

but you had a night shift starting at 7pm

you threw on a blouse over your cute-brown turtle neck

+ your laptop

Then headed to the library

You discussed with Kun about the internships and the real adult world he will be facing next year

Then he had to leave at 8pm

People were still studying

And you were working on another assignment waiting for the Jisung boy to show up

Half an hour later

You were now watching random youtube videos sitting at your receptionist desk when you felt a silhouette approaching

You raised your head to meet

Emo boy? Cute emo boy?

“Oh, bus guy, what can I help you with?” you said smiling

“Oh hi…I-I am Jisung, I thought Kun is on the night shift today…”

“Ah you’re the drama class boy, don’t worry Kun told me about you ^^ are you giving the books back now?”

“Ah I actually I will need them for two more hours, d-don’t worry I will give them back today promise!”

You chuckled at how cute he was

Aaaa you both were the same age but

He was mocha

You were potato

He’s also so tall? Almost the same height as Kun woah? 180cm damn

“It’s okay, good luck on your work!” you cheered

It was almost midnight, the end of your shift

By that time all students have left exept for Jisung

You thought you could give him some more time to finish whatever assignment he was working on

Twenty minutes past midnight

Ok Jisung you are cute, but I need sleep to be cute too

You finally got up from your desk to go check up on him

And he was…?

Sleeping

You freezed for a second then tried to wake him up

“hey, Jisung, wake up, it’s late”

You lightly nudged his shoulder

And he got up

Hooray

“Oh my, I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize it was getting late” he started panicking and packing up his stuff

“It’s okay haha, I just need the two books, and you’re free to leave!”

“The books! Yes the books, oh my god I’m so sorry, here” he handed you the books then got out of the library in a hurry

You put the books back where they belong and checked it up on the library’s system

You turned off the lights then closed the building doors

What surprised you though was

Jisung waiting by the door

“It’s late…and you waited for me. I mean you stayed more than your shift t-to not wake me up, I feel sorry…I can walk you home” he said, a blush glowing in his cheeks

“oh you don’t have to! Really, you don’t have to! There are still people using the same road as me at this time, so I won’t be alone!”

“but still-“

“Jisung, it’s not a big deal, don’t worry and get home safe!”

“since you insist, give me your number, how much time will it take for you to get home?”

The confident aura omg? Is this the same person that was stuttering and blushing two minutes ago

You smirked “ nice move, I like you already”

“0XXX-XXX-XXX, call me in about half an hour!”

“and…your name?”

“y/n” you said before leaving “good night!”

“good…night y/n!”

h-hi ha how u like that?

how was this?

bulleted aus are my forte £|’dnsl

#nct au #nct aus #nct fluff #nct 2020 #nct scenarios #nct smut #park jisung #jisung #qian kun #nct kun #bulleted list

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kpopblurbs · 4 years

Text

10:58pm

Pairing: Chan/Young K/Reader Word Count: 5.3k Tags: Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, First Time Bottoming, Threesome - F/M/M, Sub!Chan, dom!Young K, dom!reader, Reader and Young K are in an established relationship, chan is just a shy boy with a crush A/N: It’s only 4 months late lmao but here yall go its finally the end of smutmas i did it! im so happy to be done i mean i enjoyed writing the whole thing dont get me wrong but it feels like theres a weight off of my shoulders now. I hope yall enjoyed the journey! Smutmas Masterlist AO3 Link

Chan liked to think he was a confident person, normally he had no problem being the one to take charge. But here, at his first real party he was completely out of his element, switching between hovering near the only people he knew and standing awkwardly against the wall. His grip was tight around the plastic cup that held some mystery alcohol his friend had handed him as soon as he arrived. He took small sips occasionally, he didn't love the taste but was too awkward to get anything else.

He was wandering back to his trusty spot against the wall when his eyes landed on you and Younghyun casually talking to one of the mutual friends the three of you shared. Immediately he fixed his hair and adjusted his appearance, trying his hardest to look like he belonged. He tried not to stare but couldn't help himself as he watched Younghyun drape his arm across your shoulders, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing circles into your skin. He nearly jumped as his eyes wandered back up and he saw that you were looking at him, one eyebrow cocked as you glanced down towards Younghyun's hand and back up, tilting your head in a silent question.

Chan smiled and shook his head, trying to convince you that he was just zoning out. You squinted at him playfully before turning back to your conversation. Chan tried to be more covert with his staring, scanning his eyes across the party, trying his best to keep an eye on you in his peripheral vision. He couldn't stop his heart from fluttering as he saw you lean up to whisper something into Younghyun's ear that made him turn his attention to Chan. The younger boy tried to give him a casual smile and nod, which Younghyun returned before looking away.

Chan knew he was being foolish, his friends full out laughed at him one time when he got a little tipsy and confessed that he had a crush on both you and Younghyun. But he had heard a rumor that the two of you were open to inviting a third person into your bed and as much as he hated to give credit to rumors, he couldn't help but hope that he could be that person at least once.

His thoughts were quick to wander off in that direction, his lack of experience in that area meant that he got excited easily and he would be damned if he popped a boner while the two of you were so close. He pulled his mind back and focused on the party, glancing around he couldn't help the twinge of panic he felt when he realized he couldn't see you or Younghyun anymore. His mind raced with thoughts questioning whether or not he had scared the two of you away by staring, maybe you had felt his awkwardness from across the room and decided to leave. He did his best to push the panic away as he scanned the party hoping to catch a glimpse of one of you.

He sighed in relief as he spotted Younghyun entering the kitchen. Thinking that he maybe needed to loosen up a bit, Chan decided to brave going to the kitchen for a new drink. He pushed away from the wall and was about to take a step when he was stopped by a hand on his shoulder. He jumped at the sudden contact and spun to the side to figure out why someone touched him.

"Going so soon?" you asked, a sly smile on your face as you held back a giggle at Chan's wide eyes.

"I -uh- was just going to the uh, the kitchen?" Chan sputtered, entirely unprepared to be talking to you, he could feel his cheeks heating up as he struggled to talk and wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and never come out.

You laughed, the sound was like music to Chan's ears and he found himself zoning out, focused on the way your lips moved while you talked. It wasn't until you stopped talking that he realized he hadn't actually heard anything you were saying. He shook his head, "Sorry, what?" he asked, making you laugh again.

"How much of that have you had?" you asked, gesturing to his cup.

"Not enough apparently," he mumbled before taking a swig and immediately regretting it, he grimaced at the taste and couldn't hold back a cough as the alcohol burned its way down his throat.

"Not enough for what?" you asked once he seemed like he had recovered from his drink.

"Not enough to stop being so damn nervous," he responded without thinking, his eyes widened as he realized what he said. So much for his plan to seem cool in front of you, he braced himself for you to laugh at him for being nervous but you only leaned slightly closer to him.

"What's making you nervous?" you asked, your voice seemed slightly lower than before but he assumed it was just his mind playing tricks on him.

He thought for a second before deciding to go with the truth, "I've never actually.. been to a party before," he confessed with a sigh.

"Well you picked a pretty boring party for your first one," you responded, he was shocked that his confession didn't trip you up at all but he was also grateful, he wasn't sure he could've handled the embarrassment of having to explain how inexperienced he was to you. "What made you come tonight?" you asked.

Chan sputtered, trying to come up with a valid reason for coming to conceal that he was really hoping to see you and Younghyun. "I -uh- yknow- just -uh- cause," he said, mentally slamming his head into a wall for not being able to come up with a response better than 'just cause'.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, "Just cause?" you asked before the tiniest smirk appeared on your face, "Are you sure you weren't here to see someone?" you asked, tilting your head innocently.

Chan could practically hear his heart racing, he tried to convince himself that you were just asking him an innocent question and it wasn't like you could read his mind or anything. The fact that you had leaned closer to him again wasn't helping him focus at all, "N-nope, no one, d-definitely not," he stammered out.

You hummed, "Damn, I thought you were here to see me," you said with a pout before leaning back.

Now Chan was conflicted, should he confess that he was actually here to see you in case you were being serious, or stick to his story and try to match your lighthearted attitude. He decided to combine the two in the hopes that it would get a laugh from you, "Oh, you're right I forgot, I'm totally just here for you," he said with a chuckle.

You let out an overdramatic gasp, "Chan I have a boyfriend," you said, slapping his arm lightly.

Chan panicked slightly, his brain searching for a way to respond without making things weird when he was surprised by the feeling of an arm wrapping around his shoulders. He jumped and looked to his side to see Younghyun who immediately leaned all of his weight onto the smaller boy causing Chan's shoulder to bump into the wall. "Did I just hear you flirting with my girlfriend?" Younghyun asked, looking down and cocking an eyebrow at Chan.

"N-No I was just-" Chan scrambled for an answer before Younghyun cut him off.

"Relax, I'm just messing with you," Younghyun said with a smile before standing up straight, taking his weight off of Chan but not moving his arm. "What'd I miss?" Younghyun asked you, ignoring the way Chan was trying to collect himself, being this close to both of you was proving to be too much for him to handle.

"Chan was just telling me this is his first party ever," you said with a smile, stealing Younghyun's drink to take a sip before passing it back.

"Really? You deserve a better first party experience than this," Younghyun said with a frown.

"I-I mean it doesn't seem that bad," Chan said, his eyes flicking quickly between the two of you.

"A party is supposed to be fun, not just 'not that bad'," Younghyun said.

"I say we make this more fun for him," you said, shooting a look at Younghyun that confused Chan.

"H-How?" Chan asked, now desperate to be let in on the silent conversation the two of you seemed to be having.

"Channie, you trust us right?" Younghyun asked, looking down at the smaller boy softly.

"Y-Yeah?" Chan responded, trying his best to hold back his nerves.

"So what if we said we could make your first party unforgettable?" you asked, reaching down to take one of his hands gently into your own.

At this point Chan was positive he was dreaming, the scent of Younghyun's cologne was making him feel drunk and the way you were rubbing your thumb gently across the back of his hand wasn't helping.

"Channie?" Younghyun asked, stepping away from the smaller boy to look at him when he realized it didn’t seem like he was going to respond.

At the feeling of Younghyun moving away from him, Chan couldn’t help the tiny whine that slipped from his mouth. His eyes went wide when he realized what happened, his hands immediately flew up to cover his mouth, he couldn’t bear to look at the two of you opting instead to try and wiggle out from underneath Younghyun’s arm. The older boy only tightened his grip around Chan’s shoulders and stepped closer to him once again, “I won’t go anywhere if you don’t want me to, Channie,” he cooed. Immediately Chan’s cheeks flushed a bright pink and you did your best to bite back a smile as you brought your hands up to pull his own off of his face.

“T-Thank you,” Chan mumbled softly.

“So polite,” you hummed making Chan duck his head as his blush deepened.

“What do you say we move this somewhere with less... eyes,” Younghyun said, peering at the couple of people that had taken notice of the way the two of you had seemingly cornered the poor boy.

“Are you okay with that, Chan?” you asked, leaning down to meet his eyes where they were trained on the floor.

“Y-Yeah,” Chan said softly and you smiled. You let go of his hands, not missing the tiny whimper that left his lips before you turned around and began leading the two boys towards one of the bedrooms at the back of the house. Once you found an empty one, you pushed the door open wide enough to allow Younghyun to guide Chan into the room before stepping in behind them, shutting the door, and turning the lock to keep out any unwanted visitors. You moved to the bed where Younghyun had sat next to Chan, his arm still wrapped around Chan who was now leaning subtly into Younghyun’s side.

“What are you thinking, Channie?” you asked softly, taking notice of the far away look on his face that indicated he was deep in thought.

“I-I’m -uh- trying to.. figure out if this is a dream or not,” Chan said softly.

Younghyun chuckled before moving to pinch his arm gently, Chan jumped at the feeling and Younghyun smiled, “Definitely not dreaming,” he said.

“Well that was my only idea, now I’m completely lost,” Chan said, sitting up slightly and looking between the two of you for an explanation.

“Right,” you said before sitting down on his other side, “Younghyun and I think you’re pretty cute and we would like to offer you the opportunity to sleep with one or both of us, if you want to that is,” you explained.

“Okay I know I just got pinched but I have to be dreaming,” Chan said.

“I can’t tell if that’s a positive reaction or not,” Younghyun said, drawing Chan’s attention off of you.

“No, it’s positive, I just...” Chan started before pausing to collect his thoughts, “I’ve had a crush on you both for like so long,” he continued, somehow gathering the bravery to confess.

“Oh god wait that’s so cute,” you said softly, a smile spreading across your face.

“If we had known we would’ve done this earlier,” Younghyun added.

“In my defense, confessing that I have a crush on two people who are dating each other isn’t exactly something that people do,” Chan said, earning another chuckle from Younghyun.

“Well, now that we’ve got that out in the open, there’s only one more question,” Younghyun said. Chan tilted his head in confusion, a small gasp leaving his lips as Younghyun leaned in so their lips were close to touching, “Do you want to do something about it?” he asked lowly.

“P-Please,” Chan said, his voice wavering slightly as he stayed completely still. After what felt like forever for Chan, Younghyun leaned in further, closing the distance between them and pressing their lips together. Chan let out a muffled whine, his lips parting slightly and Younghyun takes the opportunity to slip his tongue into the other boys mouth. Chan brought a hand up to grip Younghyun’s shirt tightly as he let the older boy control the kiss. Finally Younghyun pulled away, he still seemed perfectly put together while Chan gasped for breath, his pupils blown wide and his mind fuzzy.

“My turn,” you said, reaching up to grip Chan’s chin and turn his head towards you. He let out a surprised squeak as your lips made contact with his. You maintained the same bold precedent that Younghyun had set, kissing Chan until he was dizzy before pulling away, feeling more put together than Chan seemed.

“W-What are we gonna do?” Chan asked, his voice soft and squeaky.

“What would you like to do?” you asked.

“Yeah,” Younghyun continued for you, “You’ve had a crush on us, I’m sure you’ve had a few fantasies floating around in that head of yours. Share your favorite, maybe we can make it happen.”

Chan’s cheeks turned pink and Younghyun chuckled, “I see I was right, spill,” he encouraged.

Chan took a deep breath, “Well I, uhm, I’ve thought about uhm, you,” Chan looked at Younghyun, “Yknow, uh, fucking me,” he said, whispering the dreaded word like it would somehow make him less embarrassed to say it out loud. “And uh, you,” he continued, turning to look at you now, “Letting me uh, yknow, fuck you,” again whispering the important word though it didn’t help the first time.

You smiled, “Yknow you’re cute when you’re embarrassed,” you said softly, bringing a hand up to cup Chan’s cheek as Younghyun stood up suddenly surprising both of you.

“I know the owners of this house are freaks there’s gotta be some lube in here,” he said as he began to search the room. “You two get started I’ll join in once I find lube,” he said, sending a wink your way which you responded to with a smile.

You turned back to Chan, your hands moving to grab the bottom of his shirt, “You heard the man, let’s get started,” you said with a smile. You tugged gently on his shirt and he was quick to raise his arms up, making it easy for you to tug the fabric over his head and toss it to the ground. “Very nice,” you hummed, bringing your hands to his chest and using your fingers to gently trace the contours of his muscles.

“T-Thanks,” Chan responded, his cheeks still pink and turning a deeper shade with every second you spent admiring him. You let him suffer with the embarrassment for a few more moments before grabbing your own shirt and tugging it off over your head, letting it join Chan’s on the floor. You giggled when Chan’s eyes went wide at the sight of your bra before he looked up, desperately trying to look anywhere except at your chest.

“Yknow they’re nice to look at but even more fun to touch,” Younghyun said, clearly still keeping an eye on what you were doing though he was searching through drawers.

“Come on Channie, you can touch, it’s okay,” you said, grabbing his hand after a few moments when he didn’t seem like he was gonna make the first move. You guided his hand to your chest and let it come to rest on one of your boobs. He gave it a few gentle, experimental squeezes before beginning to get comfortable with what he was doing and starting to massage you slowly. You smiled before grabbing his wrist gently, stopping him momentarily and allowing you to reach behind your back and unclasp your bra, slipping it off and tossing it to the ground.

“Ah ha!! Found it,” Younghyun shouted, startling Chan out of the dazed state he was in from staring at your boobs. Younghyun approached the bed, a bottle of lube held triumphantly in his hands, “Told you guys they were freaks,” he said. He tossed the bottle on the bed before tugging his shirt off, “I guess it’s not fair to be the only one with my shirt on,” he said as he tossed it into the steadily growing pile. Chan gulped at the sight of the lube and Younghyun looked at him with concern on his face, “You okay, Channie?” he asked.

“Yeah I uhm, I just haven’t uh,” Chan trailed off, gesturing towards the lube.

“You’ve never been fucked?” Younghyun asked, sitting down next to Chan and putting a gentle hand on the younger boys thigh, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, you can fuck me I make a fantastic power bottom.”

Chan took a deep breath, “No I want this, I want you,” he said, putting as much confidence into his voice as he could, “Just, uh, take it slow.”

“Of course, Channie, we’ll take care of you, if you need us to stop or slow down just say so,” Younghyun said comfortingly.

“Thank you,” Chan said, giving a soft smile to Younghyun.

Younghyun returned Chan’s smile with one of his own before patting his thigh, “Now, I think in order for things to continue, we’re gonna have to make a new rule in here,” he said.

You cocked an eyebrow at him, “And what might that rule be?” you asked.

“No more pants,” Younghyun said with a smile and you laughed.

“That’s fair,” you said, “Chan first,” you smirked at the younger before reaching down to unbutton his pants. Chan took a second to comprehend what you were doing before he stood up, allowing you to tug his pants to the ground which he then, less than gracefully stepped out of before sitting back down. He crossed his arms over his lap, doing best to cover up his hard on that was very obvious now that he was just in his underwear.

“It’s so cute how shy you are,” Younghyun cooed, trailing his fingers across Chans inner thigh.

“‘M not shy,” Chan mumbled, a slight pout on his face.

“You’re like a cute, shy little puppy,” you cooed, reaching up to card your fingers through Chan’s hair. Chan bit back a smile as he pushed his head into your hand, “What? Do you like being called Puppy?” you asked.

Chan bit his lip and looked down, unable to make eye contact as he nodded quickly. “Jesus Christ you’re gonna kill me that’s so fucking cute,” Younghyun said, moving his hand up Chan’s thigh and nudging the younger boys hands aside so he could palm Chan’s erection. “Such a cute, needy puppy,” Younghyun cooed as he stroked Chan achingly slow through his underwear.

You watched the two of them for a second before wiggling out of your pants and underwear at once, tossing them into the pile before moving to the middle of the bed and sitting up against the headboard. You spread your legs apart and patted the mattress between them, “C’mere Puppy, lets put that mouth to good use so Younghyun can prep you,” you said.

Chan looked back and forth between you and Younghyun, trying to decide whether to listen to you or stick with the pleasure Younghyun was giving him no matter how slight it was. “Go on, Pup, do as you’re told,” Younghyun said, “But first, lose these,” he snapped the waistband of Chan’s underwear for emphasis. Chan hopped up, tugging his underwear off so quick he almost tripped on his way back to the mattress. He kneeled down between your legs, sitting back on his heels and waiting patiently for your next instruction.

“Such a well behaved puppy,” you cooed. You reached forward, tangling your fingers into his hair and guiding his head down between your legs. You held him still when he was close enough for you to feel his breath fanning across your skin. He was eyeing you hungrily, his mouth just short of watering as he waited for you to let him go. “You should be thanking me for even letting you this close,” you said.

“Thank you,” Chan gasped quickly, his eyes still trained on your pussy.

“Good boy,” you cooed before finally loosening your grip on his hair. He pushed forward, eagerly licking a stripe up your folds and you let out a contented sigh as Chan swirled his tongue around your clit. You could tell he was a bit inexperienced but he made up for it with eagerness, trying his hardest to please you with his tongue.

While Chan was focused on you, Younghyun had stripped himself of his own pants and underwear and began to position himself behind Chan. He placed a gentle hand on Chan’s ass, slightly startling the boy but not deterring him from his focus on you. Younghyun began to massage Chan’s ass, spreading his cheeks gently with both hands and using one of his thumbs to trace Chan’s hole. Chan squirmed slightly at the unfamiliar sensation and pulled away from you slightly just to take a deep breath and relax himself before continuing.

Younghyun grabbed the bottle of lube and opened it up, drizzling some over his fingers and spreading it around before bringing them up to Chan’s hole. He put his clean hand on Chan’s ass, using his thumb to rub soothingly at his skin, “You ready, Pup?” he asked.

Chan pulled away from you again, “As ready as I could be,” he responded. Younghyun nodded, teasing Chan’s hole for a couple more seconds before slowly pressing his finger inside the younger boy. Chan pressed his cheek to your inner thigh, his face scrunching up as he tried to adjust to the intrusion. Younghyun held still for a moment, waiting until he felt Chan relax before he began to move his finger, letting the boy completely adjust to the feeling before slipping another finger into him.

You carded your fingers through Chan’s hair, trying to help him relax as Younghyun prepped him thoroughly. Younghyun moved slowly, trying to bring Chan as little discomfort as possible. When he was able to slip a third finger into Chan he began to curl his fingers, feeling around for the bundle of nerves that would send Chan reeling.

“Oh shit!” Chan cried out, his body jolting forward when Younghyun finally found it.

“There it is,” Younghyun said, sending a triumphant smile your way.

Now that you were sure Chan was enjoying himself you tightened your grip in his hair, “Back to me, Pup,” you said. Chan dove back in eagerly, dragging his tongue between your folds and around your clit, letting out an occasional moan as Younghyun fingered him. The vibrations from the little noises Chan was making were sending waves of pleasure up your spine.

Chan pulled away from you just enough to speak, “More, please, I need more,” he begged.

“Aw,” Younghyun cooed, “Want me to fill you up, Pup?”

“Yes, please, I just need-” Chan rambled, his voice shaky from how desperate he was.

“Okay, let’s move things around so we can make your dreams come true,” Younghyun said as he pulled his fingers out of Chan, drawing a small whine from the younger boy.

You sat up and moved over to the side before patting the mattress where you were laying, “C’mere, Pup, lay down,” you instructed. Chan was quick to react, settling into the position you wanted and allowing you to tuck a pillow under his hips while Younghyun got up to search through the pockets of his pants.

Younghyun smiled triumphantly as he pulled two condoms out of his pocket and held them up for the two of you to see, “I always come prepared,” he said as he tossed one to you.

You caught it easily, “Horndog,” you muttered as you tore open the foil.

“Hey, you love how horny i am,” Younghyun said as he opened up the condom he still had in his hands and tossed the foil onto the pile of clothes.

You chuckled, “I guess you’re alright,” you said, opting to place your trash on the table next to the bed.

“Guys,” Chan whined, “Your flirting is so cute but I’m so hard I think I might die,” he pouted as the two of you turned your attention back to him.

“You’re right, Pup, you need attention,” you cooed, reaching forward to wrap your hand around his dick, running your thumb over the slit and collecting the precum that was there. You used it to help the glide as you stroked him slowly, relishing in the way he gasped and moaned from the first contact to his dick all night. You let him enjoy it for a few moments before slipping the condom onto his dick, “You ready, Pup?” you asked.

“I’ve never been more ready for anything in my life,” Chan whined as Younghyun positioned himself between the younger boys legs. As Younghyun got into position you swung your leg across Chans waist and moved so you were straddling him. You reached down and wrapped a hand around his dick to line it up with your entrance. You teased him for a few seconds, dragging his dick up and down between your folds and waiting until he started to squirm. “Ah- please,” he begged, looking up at you with puppy dog eyes, his hands gripped the sheets at his sides tightly as he tried to keep himself from bucking up into you.

Finally, you decided to have mercy, letting out a low moan as you sank down on his dick, keeping your pace slow as you settled down in his lap. You stayed still, letting yourself adjust to his size before beginning to grind down, rocking back and forth and enjoying the feeling of him filling you up.

“My turn,” Younghyun said and you stilled your movements, lifting yourself up slightly to allow Younghyun to push himself forward and line himself up with Chan’s entrance. “I’m gonna move slow, Pup, if you need me to stop just say so,” he said, being sure to make eye contact with Chan to make sure he understood. Chan nodded quickly, his hands gripping the sheets so tightly that his knuckles were white. You reached down and grabbed his hands, moving them to your hips before leaning down to kiss him deeply. You felt his grip on your hips tighten as Younghyun pushed into him, disconnecting the kiss to allow him to take a deep breath and relax. You brought a hand up to cup his cheek, rubbing your thumb soothingly across his skin to help keep him relaxed until Younghyun was pressed fully into him.

You sat back up, trying to help Chan adjust to the feeling of being filled by beginning to ride him slowly. “M-Move, please,” Chan gasped out after a few seconds.

“As you wish,” Younghyun responded, trying his best to sound put together but you could tell the feeling of being inside Chan was getting to him. He began to pull out slowly, making sure that Chan showed no signs of pain before pushing back in.

“More, please, more,” Chan begged, his grip on your hips was definitely tight enough to leave bruises as both you and Younghyun began to pick up the pace. You felt Younghyun bring his hand up to your waist, trailing it slowly around to your front to press his fingers to your clit.

“So fucking tight,” Younghyun groaned, you could hear the slap of skin on skin contact as he snapped his hips roughly into the boy beneath you.

Chan was a mess, his moans were high pitched and cracking and his face was scrunched up, you could tell that he was struggling to hold off his orgasm. The combined sensations of you riding him and Younghyun fucking him were proving to be too much for him to handle. “You gonna cum for us, Pup?” you asked, trying your hardest to keep your voice steady though you were pretty worked up yourself.

“God, fuck, ah- can I?” he asked, barely managing to slip the words out between moans.

“Hold on just a little bit longer, Pup,” Younghyun gasped out, his hand beginning to work faster on your clit, trying to make up for the fact that his rhythm was falling apart as he got closer to the edge.

Chan whined in response, his body tensing as he tried desperately to hold back his orgasm. You focused on your own pleasure for a moment, trying to push yourself closer to the edge, not wanting to make him suffer much longer.

To your surprise, Younghyun was the first to cum, letting out a low groan as he released into the condom, his hips slowing down as his hand completely stopped before he pulled out of Chan slowly. You were quick to replace his fingers with your own, bouncing up and down in Chan’s lap quickly as you got closer to your orgasm. “Cum for me, Pup,” you gasped out once you were finally on the edge.

He was quick to comply, spilling his load into the condom with a loud cry. It only took a few more bounces before you were cumming too, clenching around him and causing him to whine from the slight overstimulation. Your hand slowed down on your clit, working yourself through your orgasm before slowing to a stop.

You lifted yourself off of Chan, moving to the side before pulling the condom off of his dick and tying it off, searching around for a trashcan for a second before just setting it on top of the wrapper on the table. “I need a nap,” Younghyun sighed, flopping down next to Chan after having already disposed of his condom.

“I don’t think I could walk out of here even if I wanted to,” Chan said, trying to catch his breath.

“Well we can’t stay here all night, this isn’t our house,” you reminded the boys.

“I say, we nap here for a little bit and then we carry Channie back to our place for round 2,” Younghyun said with a smile, putting an arm around the younger boy and tugging him closer.

“Round 2?” Chan asked, surprise evident in his voice.

You chuckled, giving in and laying down on the other side of Chan, “Well yeah, I hope you didn’t think this was a one time thing,” you said.

“That was fantastic, there’s no way I’m letting you go after this,” Younghyun said, snuggling up to Chan’s side and letting out a content sigh.

“S-So does that mean...?” Chan trailed off, his eyes flitting back and forth between the two of you.

“We can discuss the details after sleepyhead gets a nap,” you said nodding towards Younghyun who was somehow already asleep, “For now just enjoy the cuddles.” You mirrored Younghyun, snuggling up to Chan’s side and letting your eyes flutter closed.

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toshis-puppycat · 4 years

Text

Unfortunately, I think I Love You Too Part Seven

A/n: So that last part, was it good? Did yall enjoy where I left it off? Also Im so sorry I basically died and only reblogged stuff, motivation was low and then school started back up for me and, I'm embarrassed by that lmao. But I'm in my final semester of my Bachelors degree now! Then I'm off to get my master ;-; life is making me tired. But I hope yall enjoy this update!

Summary: You aren't with Hawks, you were back with them. Just how lucky were you?

Part Seven

When you woke up your head was pounding, you felt so sluggish. Like your body could barely move. Toxin. That fucking bastard. How he managed to get past Hawks security was a mystery to you. You were tied up, wrists and legs bound, thankfully not to the bed you were currently laying on.

"Nice to see you awake, sweetheart." A voice called out, you turned your head to face the corner the voice came from. The star of the hour for you. "You remember when we were kids and you'd ask me 'Dokusei! Dokusei! I can't sleep, will you please use your quirk?'" He chuckled at the memory as you slowly blinked. "Look at you now. Back where you belong."

"Fuck you."

"God you are still trying to put on an act. Ya know sweetheart. Did you think that hero was going to save you?"

All thoughts stopped. Hawks... Hawks would save you. You didn't have any doubt about that. You just… you never had any doubts about what kind of person Hawks was. He is a hero. The one you lov- Oh. Oh. You tuned out whatever Toxin went off about after his last question. (Not like you could actually respond with the leftover feel of his quirk in you.) You didn't have a doubt because of that. You pushed it away, every time you pushed the thought away, left it as 'he's a hero' so of course he'd save you. But he didn't have to keep your identity a secret from the Hero Commission. He didn't have to follow Nighteyes plan (you ignored the little pang in your heart remembering he passed away), he certainly didn't have to take you to his own home. And when he told you he thinks he loves you? You wanted to ignore the fast beating of your heart, how you'd flush whenever he called you some dumb nickname over your actual name, ignore how it just felt right being in his arms. It wasn't anything until it was.

"Oi. You dumb bitch. Pay attention to me." Toxin snarled, finally noticing your distracted gaze. "He's not coming because he still thinks you're there."

You stilled. He… he couldn't think you were there could he? But you remembered. Obake could change into anyone, change others into whoever they would want. That… scared you more than you'd like to admit. Hawks… please… be able to tell it's not me.

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He could definitely tell. It was like they weren't even trying to be you. Flirty? The same level he started at with you to make you look at him flirty? What a joke. They were even calling him baby. You called him Birdbrain, something he was sorely missing at the moment. And he never called you by your name. It was always 'songbird' or even that one time he called you babybird but he wasn't going to be talking about how you almost fought him right then and there and settled on smacking him or even 'dove' (he wouldn't call you that to your face though, that would be embarrassing, you were too… well. He was a huge sucker for you).

"Baby?" The voice cooed out. He resisted the urge to shutter at it, they might think he was into it or something.

"Yeah y/n?" He called out. He managed to avoid touching them too much, stating he got hit with some quirk that could hurt them. Pretending they were you was a little difficult.

"Don't you wanna come to bed?" They called out. "Its probably been long enough hasn't it? I wanna show my hero some appreciation." He resisted the urge to scowl at that. Whatever the fuck they were doing, they sucked at it. He sighed.

"How much longer are you gonna be keeping up this act?" He said, he felt them still.

"Baby… wha- what are you talking about?" They tried playing it off but he was Hawks.

"I know you're not her." He said. The room was still and then they chuckled.

"Awe what gave me away? Y/n was always like that before." They said. Hawks didn't let them move though, his feathers pinning them to the wall. Hearing the shocked gasp of the imposter.

"You keep her name out of your filthy mouth." He snarled. "Why not be a good captive and tell me where he has her. Because I know its him. Toxin, right?" He asked.

"She was always his! You're nothing! You think she would actually enjoy being with you?" They yelled.

"That never mattered. Her choice in this matters!" He yelled back. A knock sounded out behind him, and he let a feather open the door. "Naomasa."

"Hawks! Why'd you- Yūrei."

"Got a new lead. They got her, but well. I can find her." Hawks said. Naomasa grabbed his shoulder.

"Bring her back safe, Hawks."

"I will."

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Toxin never thought ahead. He never searched when he thought he won something. He hadn't changed over the years in that aspect. It was why you were able to leave when you were younger. And right now. It was why you knew Hawks was coming for you. Hawks had something Toxin never could. A brain, your trust. Even when you were younger, Toxin never had any of your trust. You were wary and tolerate of him. You were still weak though. After all these years, you were still easily taken down by him. Weak. Even as a pro hero. You took a deep breath. Physically. You were physically weak right now. Only physically weak. Toxin, never thought, never planned. Only acted. You were smart. You thought ahead… you knew Hawks would be coming for you. You felt it. Okay, Obake was Yūrei, and they could change into anyone they wanted. If they knew them. But Obake Yūrei hasn't known you for years at this point. And the cutesy flirty way you used to act all the time wouldn't fly. You acted different, you were different. Hawks would know that you're different. Sure they could look like you, sure they could attempt to act like you. But Hawks knows you. Something happened outside the room you were trapped in. A loud crash. Toxin had left your room after going on about how you were finally back where you belonged and will be right beside him on your knees as a pet for him. What a joke. You weren't going to be anything for him. Toxin came back into the room furious as he quickly grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He wasn't talking, but he made sure to touch your skin. It made your head feel fuzzy, just like when you were younger. You did go to him all the time when you two were younger, sleep was just easier when he used his quirk on you. It had its side effects though. At your age now, because of how much you'd asked him to use it on you when you were young it made it difficult to sleep now. Combined with the nightmares you used to have (that went away because of Hawks), made it even more difficult. His quirk also had other drawbacks though. Hed used it on you so much, it wasn't nearly as strong as it would be with anyone else. You just had to wait for the right- a feather flew near you, hitting Toxin right at the shoulder (that you weren't on), making him drop you. You winced at how you landed on your side.

"Hey songbird. Did ya miss me?"

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He was furious, he broke into the villain lair no problem. The only 'brains' of the operation were Toxin and Yūrei. They had a plan of vengeance and a plan to get back into power. One that you'd inadvertently ruined by tipping Nighteye off, which led to the Shie Hassaikai Raid and led to the downfall of anyone connected to the Yakuza. But they really messed up. They went after you. They went after you because of some moron who didn't want to let go of the past you didn't want. And tried making it seem like you did want it, like you were in love with him. He was disillusioned, and that was dangerous for you. And the dumbest thing about it was he thought you'd just take it. Just roll over and give up your dream to help people, for a lifestyle you'd hated. That everyone who really knew you knew that you hated. He quickly destroyed the main area, feathers quickly speeding off to hold down anyone who stayed. And he ran, seeing only a hint of your hair turning the corner and he knew. A feather quickly went forward and he heard a pained grunt, and he saw you fall to the floor, tied up, looking a bit dazed. He gave a teasing grin that he knew you couldn't see at the moment. "Hey songbird. Did ya miss me?"

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Tag list: @traqicalromance, @onyxiana-is-obsessed, @solies-scripts, @shiggi-trash, @jqnposts, @notmykirk, @crackhead1-800, @sinclairsamess, @takmikig, @ewok-things, @lookslikeleese, @rat-suki, @bakatenshii, @enjifuckersupreme, @protagonist-senpai, @atsumumu, @mikithekiki, @tired-marshmallow, @shintaroo

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miiilowo · 4 years

Note

I. Im very curious about the pink haired enderman oc 👉👈 where are they from?? What do they doo?? This is a ramble as much as you want to ask :D

RUBBING MY LITTLE GREMLIN HANDS TOGETHER (also sorry about the late answer, my internet went out as i was writing this)

he’s for an smp im on! :D we decided that we wanted to do rp stuff for fun (hasnt really happened but some characters exist) and i decided to make an enderman character because i just. love them so much

the idea is that one of the smp members went to the end and made an enderman grinder. for whatever reason (havent figured out what the reason is yet) she decided that my funky little guy was special and decided to keep him. kind of like adopting them.

Afterward she made him king of the end because shes a human who thinks she has power over just about everything. for that reason i spent like 3 days building a castle on the server. He does not take his role as a king seriously whatsoever, and never goes to the end. Why, you may be asking?

When you kill the ender dragon you get the achievement ‘free the end’, which doesnt Sound Like Endermen Had A Fun Time, so im just going to assume he has very bad memories associated with that place

since you mentioned it, his hair is not Actually pink, in fact, he’s bald, but he likes color a lot and so he made a wig (plus he wants to fit in with his mom and other people more) ((also my hair is just pink and he’s an adaptation of another persona i have but we can ignore that)). colors and flowers and stuff are something he enjoys because its a nice difference in comparison to the end which is mostly just . beige and black and purple sometimes

He’s relatively good at english, and really loves writing and stories and books!!! i have a groovy lil library in my castle and a notebook/journal i track events of the smp in. im THIS CLOSE to copying the personal poems ive done into a bunch of books and selling them on the server for shits and giggles

My castle is one of the cooler builds on the server so new members stop by and stay there for a while before they head off on their own. so, i decided to turn that into him really wanting people to hang around, but they keep leaving and he gets kinda sad about that. id hate living in a big fucky castle and then peepo just stop by then exit after like 4 days. as a result he now has one crazed little clown friend who he is overly attached to despite her probably not being good for his mental health. theyre. working on that. though. i think. that character belongs to my friend loserchips, aka my best friend and the gal who drew my icon, which is also the enderboy!!!!!!

he has a big pile of gems in his throne room that he is absolutely Not willing to share because ive decided he loves shiny things. He also does have some enderman behavior that ive incorporated into how i play:

- cant go in water unless wearing full armor

- cant be in rain without a hat on at LEAST

- afraid of eye contact/doesnt look people in the eye

- climbs on shit and up the vines all over the castle. this scares people occasionally because hes already tall

- he isnt very good at teleporting and when he does he kind of zaps all over the place. due to chorus fruit i have ended up in countless ravines, creeper holes, roofs, tunnels, and houses against my will. it only worked out ONCE, where i was in a friends bakery, and she said to come upstairs. i ate a chorus fruit absentmindedly and teleported right in front of her. im counting this as him getting better at it

- i also am located in a savannah thats right next to a desert because it never rains there and he likes dry places for obvious reasons

- this was mildly inspired by endermen behavior. hes incredibly docile and friendly, but when he’s pushed a little too far he fucking snaps. the best example of this happening on the smp so far was when someone he was planning to live with forever left the castle, took some of his shit, then proceeded to fuck with him by showing him multiple double chests full of ender pearls. i then set fire to his house. (this character was also just genuinely scary and threatened him and killed him multiple times so i think that counts too. i now have his armor set)

theres a grave in my yard thats just a chest full of ender pearls people have given me because they think itd be funny. i am the main character i do not care

i put a little bit of Me into him, which means he loves to collect a bunch of items. anything he finds even a little cool he keeps. i have so many chests and theyre all so cluttered god help me

once bundles are added im absolutely going to have him carry around a sack of flowers that he gives to people

He has a really pretty royal outfit, and just casually wears it around the castle because he thinks he looks good in it

Also! he has three ‘sons’ which are just endermen i captured and put in boats. two of them i got before i had the enderman character idea. their names are ranboo and ran2. i think that is kind of funny

the third one is named hubert. hes bad at his job of guarding the villager cages

im very tempted to get him an enderman husband that sits in the bedroom or throne room. how the FUCK will i get him up there? i genuinely have no idea, but i know i wanna do it really bad

and some just. random stuff about him. ive been searching for a zombified hoglin named benjamin that i was introduced to on the first day of the server. I Know he exists. Hes in a sewer pipe behind spawn. im one of the few people who knows about his existence, and for the love of all that is holy i CANNOT FIND THE FUCKING HOGLIN and its driving me insane. if we translate this to my character, the only time hes left his castle in like a month is to find a hostile pig creature nobody knows exists and hes been rambling about it searching a swamp for days on end

also if he were living in this world and time, he’d listen to hyperpop and be put into a fucking trance by it because its just So Much on his little enderman brain. so much. i dont like hyperpop really but he Absolutely would

also!!!!!!!!!!! hes very good at knitting! very good! at knitting! the castle was super dull and gray so he decided to spice it up one day and now theres plants and flowers everywhere-alongside a giant carpet of his face. yes this actually exists. i have a rug of my skins face on the floor of one of my rooms. in this room is a bunch of wool and sewing stuff. i like to think he makes his own clothes.

something i forgot to mention is that hes somewhat wary of people, and doesnt like to kill mobs. The clown character i mentioned is a human, but she kind of died and came back to life (totems of undying you know) and as a result he likes her more because in a sense she is somewhat undead. just a cool little character bit i thought was neat :]

i feel like he wants to play an instrument but he cant because his hands are too clunky and big and long

but! anyway, thank you for letting me ramble about my beloved son!!!!!! im thinking of naming him finn, but i might just keep it as milo for simplicities sake. since thats my name. also i thought i should tell you that i had you in mind when i made the ‘if yall wanna talk to me’ post. very poggers

endermen are friend shaped and so is he i promise <3

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icecoldparadise · 3 years

Text

So question for my fellow rainbow mafia folk.

Anyone else feel like they're in a strange, twilight zone of identity (be it sexual, romantic, gender or some combo?) Cuz like... i feel like my sexual and romantic identities are so fragmented compared to most, like instead of having a very clear set of labels that fit theres just.. some unidentified flavor? And i know i don't HAVE to have it all figured out now or ever but it.. feels kinda isolating sometimes, not having a word for it. The words closest to it don't feel like they apply to me because my experiences and feelings are so different than the community's so I don't feel like I belong.

Idk. I guess as I've gotten so much more grasp on myself as a person, and am getting close to having my own little one who is going to look to me for guidance on a lot, it's really bothered me this pride season. And of course there's the perpetual question of "how much is potentially trauma, and how much has always been there but i missed it because of being raised in a traditional Christian household?" That i dont think ill ever be able to untangle cuz it's hard enough to remember shit growing up as it is.

Idk yall sorry I guess im just rambling and shouting to the void in hopes it stops bothering my brain so much. It's irritating having it constantly trying to pick for answers I don't think I'll ever have.

#personal #shouting into the void #lgbt #what even is life #im ok dont worry #just perplexed and annoyed by it

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mrsbhandari · 4 years

Text

Shutter - pt 6

a/n: THIS SHIT TOOK SO DAMN LONG AND IM SORRY ive just been dealing with people moving and going out to do stuff and having little motivation to actually write so im VERY sorry that this took years. also, this chapter is way more nsfw than my other chaps so it is of course inspired by @lxdy-starfury‘s absolutely BEAUTIFUL nsfw art so plsssssss check that out because she’s incredible. also this is the last part of this main series, who knows, if people ask or I feel like it ill write more in this au for this pairing. well see!! for now im happy to completely finish it

also I know that my masterlist is fucky rn, im looking for the time to fix it, so if you want to see a specific fic or even all my fics for a specific pairing or book, don’t hesitate to message me or send me an ask!! im happy to point yall in the right direction, and when its not a request, I usually get to asks pretty quickly so yeah!!

words: 3.7k

warnings: unwanted advances, nsfw at the endddd

tagging: @lxdy-starfury, @huntress1024, @anotherbeingsworld, @brightpinkpeppercorn, @chaotic-ramsay-queen, @brycemaloliver

Tyril was letting his PhD go to waste. He was letting it all go to waste because his brain was pouring out of his ears as his eyes took in the purely magnificent sight of Naexi in that skin tight purple dress, hugging every curve just right and accentuating her breasts with a low V neckline. The way the fabric moved with her every step was captivating, drawing his attention to every little piece of her body, tantalizingly revealed and taunting him.

“You’re going to catch flies, Tyril.” She was fumbling with her clutch, checking to make sure that her phone fit inside and then turning around to grab something else. This new angle gave him a perfect view of her backside, filling out the dress as if it was made for her. In all honesty, his sharp tuxedo had caught her eye as well, but the large field of crimson spread across his cheeks and nose was a reminder of how much better she was at holding her feelings about Tyril in. Tyril, however, could barely keep his hands to himself in her room, in the living room, in the kitchen, and on the drive over to the gala.

“Of course you own a stupidly expensive car.” Naexi ran her hands over the smooth leather seats and the crisp finish of the wood on the dashboard. The car was clean, making her feel like if she continued to touch anything, her fingerprints would forever ruin the surfaces.

“It’s a nice car.” His hand was on her thigh, covered by the fabric of the dress but no doubt covered in faded love bites meticulously placed by Tyril. She only hummed her response, briefly distracted by the way his thumb was rubbing circles on her inner thigh, spindly fingers inching toward her core as if it was magnetized. His inability to draw his hand away suggested that he was most definitely not thinking about the car. She only hummed, insistent on keeping any gratification he was giving her to herself; it only encouraged him to drag his fingers over the apex of her thighs, her core only separated from his fingertips by two flimsy pieces of fabric.

“You better not crash it,” she teased, still stoic. Quickly, Tyril figured out that continuing his current path was only going to hurt him in the long run, so he ran a finger back down to her knee as they arrived at the large hall his father had booked for the gala. He knew that this night was already going to be one of schmoozing and torture, but he still barely looked forward to it since he knew Naexi would be at his side.

“Hey, elf boy!” a voice called to his left as he gave his keys to the valet with a hefty tip. Naexi turned and was met with a man a few inches shorter than her with wavy brown hair and a smile that betrayed that he was up to no good.

“I told you not to call me that, you rogue,” Tyril grumbled, begrudgingly clasping hands with the man and patting his back as he was pulled into a hug.

“You can’t just say that people think you’re an elf in an interview and then expect not to be called elf boy,” he reasoned, sending a wink Naexi’s way. “I’m Mal Volari, and you’re gorgeous.” He gently took her hand in his and pressed his lips to the back of it, never breaking eye contact.

“Mal…” Tyril cautioned, palm spreading protectively over his girlfriend’s side.

“Don’t worry, Ty.” She tamely ran her fingers through the hair that fell so gracefully over his ears, hiding the blush that had started to touch the barely pointed tops of them. Mal smiled knowingly. “I’m Naexi, Tyril’s date.”

“I’ve heard much about you.” They began walking into the gala, all gold finishing and sparkling diamonds adorning the necks and hands of New York’s elite, and Naexi couldn’t help but feel completely out of place. Mal rambled on at her side, so she took advantage of his distraction to whisper to Tyril, who already looked bored.

“This is weird.”

“Indeed,” he murmured, his deep baritone accompanying the words quite nicely. Already, people were beginning to stare as they made the rounds, hopping from rich group to rich group. Mal had abandoned them to camp at the open bar.

“Why do people look at me like that?”

“I apologize, it’s my fault. I’ve not had a date to one of these things in quite some time.” They had sat at one of the tables, a glass of champagne in each of their hands as they took a break from socializing.

“Ah, yes; the elusive bachelor Tyril Starfury.” She threw her hand out in the air to indicate a headline. He smiled.

“I don’t know how I ever got through one of these things without you.”

“Mal never helped? Or Imtura?”

“Imtura always takes her job as security seriously and Mal enjoys the expensive champagne my father orders.” Tyril nodded his head at where his friend was gesturing wildly, no doubt telling a story of his travels to a handsome man with a starry look in his eyes. “As well as the company these events attract.”

“Will I get to meet your father?” The question threw Tyril off his balance, but he quickly recovered.

“Well, he usually finds me along with my sister so--”

“Big brother!” Two pale arms wrapped around Tyril’s shoulders and squeezed, holding him close. His eyes lit up as the woman behind him kissed his cheek. “Staying as asocial as always, I see.”

“Can you blame me?”

“Not for your company, no.” The woman’s eyes flicked to Naexi’s, as piercing as her brother’s but leagues warmer. “You’re Naexi? I’ve seen your work. You’re very good.”

She smiled as she responded. “Really? That means so much, thank you. You must be Adrina.” She stuck her hand out, but exclaimed a small “oh!” when Adrina pulled her up from the chair to give her a hug.

“Everyone’s here for my father, so I’m allowed to break stuffy old etiquette.” Her laugh was light and airy, like a sweet breeze on a summer day. A man with Tyril’s pale skin and dark hair appeared behind her, posture straight and face neutral. Tyril stood quickly, taking his place in front of his father and next to Naexi.

“Hello, Father.”

“Tyril! I’m glad to see that you found a date in time.” His tone was one of pride that barely hid the small element of surprise.

“Yes, this is Naexi.” The feeling of Tyril’s warm grip on her waist was already enough to make her knees buckle, but she forced herself to stay upright to shake his father’s hand.

“It’s nice to meet you. Your gala is truly beautiful.”

“What else do we ever expect from the famed Valir Starfury?” a smooth voice sounded from her right, and her head quickly swiveled to see who it belonged to. The man’s smile was friendly and inviting, but upon closer inspection, the feeling never reached his eyes. His mop of curly hair was perfectly styled to make him look boyish, but with the way Tyril’s grip tightened ever-so-slightly, Naexi knew something was off.

“Aerin.”

“Tyril, is that how you greet an old friend?” Aerin laughed, sloshing his champagne in its glass. He turned a predatory gaze on her. “It’s been a while since you’ve had a date, Ty.” The man next to her stood completely still, his eyes narrowed. “Who was the last...Kaya?”

“And your point?” Tyril’s response was sharp enough to make Adrina take the smallest step toward him. Aerin continued to stare at Naexi while addressing Tyril.

“You sure know how to pick them, hm? You have a keen eye for beauty.” Aerin winked, but it made Naexi’s heart flutter and skin crawl. She shifted in her heels, ignoring the pain in her feet. There was palpable tension in the air between the five of them, suffocating and humid. Naexi racked her brain to find some way to cut it.

“I have to use the restroom.” The statement came off far louder than she intended, but it still did the trick. Aerin blinked, taken aback by her exclamation, and Adrina surged forward to take hold of her wrist, pulling her away from her brother and through the crowd of high rollers.

“I’ll take you!” Adrina said, hoping that the men would get the hint. As soon as they were out of earshot, she let out a sigh. “Thank goodness you got us out of that one. I’ve never been more grateful for girl code.”

“Who was that? He was charming but…”

“Sleazy? Yeah, you’re not the only one. That’s Aerin Valleros, heir to WhiteTower Corporations. He acts like he’s the best thing since sliced bread, but he’s been in more scandals than I can count.” Adrina visibly shuddered. “He’s creepy.”

“Didn’t he assault his brother or something?” Naexi asked, remembering the name popping up in one of the numerous headlines Nia sent her a while back.

“Yup, they fought over who was going to take over the company. Beat him so bad that his brother stepped down.”

“Holy shit.” They had reached a wall next to the opening for the bathroom, so they stood outside and leaned against it to talk. “Everyone here is insane.”

“Yeah, I feel kind of bad for leaving Tyril with him.”

“What’s their beef?” Adrina sent a wide-eyed glance to Naexi.

“People really say that?” She let out a delighted laugh. “I love that! Anyway, Tyril used to be engaged to this girl Kaya, but she cheated on him with Aerin and they planned to take over the Starfury company together.” She grabbed a glass of champagne off a passing tray and took a long sip. “But then her assistant leaked information to the press and she disappeared.”

“Do you guys live in a Lifetime movie?”

“Pretty much,” Adrina sighed, seemingly searching for someone in the crowd in front of them.

“Did you come here with a date?” Adrina hummed her answer and Naexi gently nudged her bare arm. “Go find them. I’ll be fine here.”

“You sure?”

“Go on!” Naexi waved her hands to shoo her off and leaned back against the wall to sip her champagne. Just as she was about to go find Tyril, a sultry voice and a large hand on her forearm held her in place.

“Hello.” Aerin was polite, but kept his hand on her. She felt goosebumps rise along the back of her neck and Adrina’s explanation of who he was repeated in her mind.

“Hi.”

“I apologize for the uncomfortable situation earlier. I’m afraid Tyril and I aren’t on the best of terms.” He seemed genuinely concerned, and for the briefest second, Naexi felt her guard fall.

“Should I be the one you’re apologizing to?” Her champagne barely stayed in her glass as he slammed his hand onto the wall behind her, bringing his face close to hers and smirking when she backed up to the hard surface. No one around her seemed to notice.

“You’re quick. It’s attractive. Do you think I’m attractive?”

“Trapping a woman because you can’t get her to come to you isn’t attractive,” Naexi drawled, keeping her gaze locked on his. He was simmering and dangerous; one wrong move could make him boil over, but she figured that he had more to lose than a random photographer here as a plus-one.

“What does Tyril have that I don’t?” At this, his breath cascaded over her face, and she didn’t know what he had been drinking all night, but it certainly wasn’t the expensive, barely alcoholic bubbles that were being passed around.

“Better alcohol tolerance, for one.” She winced as he laughed.

“Funny.”

“It wasn’t a joke.” Before she could speak again, Aerin gave a yelp as his tuxedo was yanked back, making him stumble into Tyril, who caught him easily.

“It’s time for you to leave, Aerin.” People were finally beginning to stare as Tyril walked Aerin out, who was mumbling about his kingdom. Naexi followed, easily hailing a taxi and pushing the drunk man into the back seat with a purposeful shove. The night was cold, and she turned to walk back inside when she felt a tug on her wrist. Looking back, she saw Tyril with his cold, slender fingers against her skin. “I don’t want to go back in.”

“Wanna head to your place?”

“Desperately,” he breathed, pulling her close to him and handing his ticket and a tip to the valet. His hand was wrapped around her waist exactly how it had been for the entire night, but this time felt different. His hands were always cold, but his touch was burning with a promise, which he kept as soon as they shut the door to his apartment.

His kisses were always encompassing, as if he captured every atom of her being between the seam of his lips, his teeth grazing every thought in her mind and his fingers brushing her soul. His movements were deliberate as he walked her backwards to his bedroom, slipping her dress off and letting it pool on the floor next to the sleek coffee table. She was more hurried, eagerly tugging his jacket off and tossing it in the hallway. Finally, they reached his room, vast and cold but slowly thawing. A well-placed kiss to his now-exposed collarbone had him gasping.

“Please…” he breathed, falling back onto the bed by himself as she stayed standing above him. She looked down on him, studying the way his chest rose and fell so quickly and the way his lips were ever-so-slightly parted, caught in the guarantee of pleasure that was soon to come. He gazed at her as if she was the only person left for him in the world.

He made her believe it.

“Tell me what you want, Tyril.” His words seemed to get caught in his throat as she, bare and only clad in a thin pair of black panties, got onto her knees on the bed and straddled him, already moving to unbutton his fancy shirt and pants. She could feel him hardening beneath her and gave an experimental grind, pulling out a low moan from his chest. His hands were loosely placed on her hips, but they traveled down to stroke her thighs.

“Please,” he repeated, sitting up to shrug off his shirt and unintentionally hitting his forehead on her collarbone.

“What, baby?” she asked, picking his head up and tilting his face to look up at her above him. His eyes were nearly shut and his lips were swollen, and she gave him a small simper. “Use your words.”

“I…” he trailed off, struggling to voice it. “I want you to suck my cock, Naexi.” She pressed a kiss to his lips and climbed off him, pulling him up to stand and kneeling in front of him. His hands immediately found her hair, tangling in the long locks as she pulled his pants down and fished his cock out of his fancy boxers. He opened his mouth to say something, but all thought left his mind as she wrapped her lips around his head and sucked, flicking her tongue around the tip. “Ah!” he yelped, eyes rolling back as his hand tightened in her hair. She briefly took her mouth away and settled for just her lips against him, and he whined in displeasure. “P-please--ooh--don’t tease me…” She took him in deeper until he teased the back of her throat, and he risked a glance down at her.

Naexi was looking directly into his eyes, studying his reaction and flicking her tongue accordingly. The sight of her green eyes brimming with tears as she took him was nearly enough to make him come, and she sensed it in the slight scratch of his fingernails against her scalp.

“You take my cock so well, Naexi,” he breathed, and she moaned around him. Letting out a shaky breath, he tapped once against her head. “I’m so close.” Instead of pulling away, she pushed his cock further down her throat and ran her tongue along a prominent vein along the underside of his shaft, pushing him over the edge. He let out a long groan as she swallowed him down, running her hands up and down his sides to both soothe him and keep him from stumbling. She stood and gave him a bright smile, raising herself to her tiptoes (even though she didn’t need to) and pressing her lips to his. He eagerly returned the favor, pulling away only to allow his lips to burn a path down her throat. He reached her collarbone, but stopped suddenly with his eyebrows furrowed.

“Everything okay?” Naexi asked, searching his face in concern.

“You--” Tyril started, but stopped, pursing his lips in disapproval. “You smell like him.”

“Aerin?” Her head was cocked, but her eyes widened when his own darkened.

His voice was low and made her heart race. “Don’t say his name.”

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, casting her eyes downward and fiddling with her hands. Sighing, he nuzzled the crook of her neck, placing kisses and small bites on the flesh he found there.

“No, it’s my fault. I should’ve been more careful with him. He sees a beautiful woman and loses all ability to think.” His hands flew to her hips to pull her closer to him when she gasped at his teeth on her skin. “The fact that you’re mine only made him crazier.”

“Yours?” She reached under his chin to bring his face up to hers, glancing down at his lips and then back up at his eyes.

“I’m--I meant you were my date, not mine, you’re not property--I just meant--” he stammered, taking a step back before realizing that the bed was close behind him. He lost his balance, falling back against the bed with a loud cry and frowning when Naexi snorted, barely containing her laughter at him. Instead of tugging him back up, she climbed on top of him again, letting her hair fall into his face as she looked down at how pretty his own locks were splayed out against the bed.

“Don’t worry, Ty, I like it.”

“You do?”

“I like being yours…” She pressed a kiss to the right side of his neck. “...and only yours…” She switched to his left. “No one else’s.” She placed a final kiss to his lips, one that he prolonged as he followed her when she tried to break it. “So greedy.”

“I can’t help it,” he breathed, giving a small squeeze to her hips. “I hated watching him put his hands on you.”

“Then how about you put your hands on me?” He smirked as she yelped at his quick movement to flip them over, pinning her to the bed by her wrists. Tyril immediately released her and ran his fingertips down her arms and stopped at her breasts, electing to switch to his mouth. With his left hand, he kneaded her flesh in his palm and took her right nipple in between his lips, flicking his tongue to mirror her movements from when she deepthroated him. His right hand continued downward until his index finger was circling her clit and entering her easily with the help of her own arousal. “Yes!” she gasped, back arching to push her body even closer to his. His finger pumped in and out of her, curling every so often and making him smile as she moaned louder and louder the closer she got to climax. He rushed the process by adding his middle finger and curling, hitting her sweet spot inside while rubbing her clit with his thumb.

“Come on, Naexi, let go for me.” She responded with a wail as she came, hands clutching the sheets and legs shaking. He continued to move his fingers even after she recovered, but leaned down to whisper softly in her ear.

“Would you like more?”

“Fuck, Tyril, yes. Just fuck me,” she begged, eyes barely able to stay open to look at his grin. He raised to his knees on the bed and looked down at her for a brief moment before entering her, admiring the way her skin shone with sweat and the way her flesh was blemished with the marks he had placed there. Naexi, in all her glory, was his.

“All mine,” he whispered before thrusting and gasping at how perfectly her heat enveloped him. He buried himself inside her, allowing her a few seconds to get used to his size. Finally, the legs she instinctively wrapped around him squeezed his waist, getting him to pull out of her again before slamming back in with a loud moan.

“Tyril!” she screamed, thankful for the lack of neighbors in his penthouse apartment. “Faster, please!” she pleaded, green locking with blue as she met him thrust for thrust, clenching around his cock and grabbing the wrists that connected to the hands clutching her waist. He picked up his pace, moaning all the while, and felt his stomach already coiling, a tell-tale sign of how close he was. She let out a small cry as he hit her sensitive spot and brought his thumb down to rub around her clit, unexpectedly throwing her over the edge. “Don’t stop, Tyril!” He heeded her instruction, and at the feeling of her juices coating his cock, followed her to his own peak, releasing himself inside her. Her eyes blinked slowly, as if finally coming back to her senses minutes after he pulled out and retrieved a warm washcloth to clean her up. Sitting up, she followed him to the bathroom, rubbing at his shoulders as he began to draw a bath.

“Did you...enjoy the gala?” he asked awkwardly, frowning when she laughed.

“After that mind-blowing sex, that’s what you’re going to say.” She poked his cheek and then kissed the small, red spot. “You’re too adorable.”

“...It was mind-blowing?”

“You’re turning into Mal.” His eyes bulged and he exaggerated a shudder.

“Oh no.”

“But yes, it was mind-blowing.” Her lips found his easily, but she pulled away again when she felt a smile against them. “What are you smiling at?”

“I’m just happy that now I can have mind-blowing sex with you all the time now.”

“How romantic.”

#choices tyril #tyril starfury #tyril #tyril x mc #choices #blades of light and shadow #choices blades #blades au #blades #n*fw #fanfic

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