combat boots are a blessing and a curse

Sitting on the hard concrete floor of a jail cell with a singular water bottle was not exactly Hero’s ideal way to spend their Friday night. Not that they really had a choice during a kidnapping, but they sure as hell wished they could’ve at least fought off their attacker.

Instead, the bugger had drugged them out of their mind with a few roofies in their evening coffee and dragged them back to their holding cell. At least that’s how the hero was envisioning the last few hours since their brain was pulling a complete blank.

“Ah, Hero… Finally awake, hm?”

The crime-stopper looked up from their position on the floor, eyes darting around the dark room until they could spot a silhouette in the back, far off from the bars that contained them. It took a good few seconds of processing and a couple squints for the hero to make out that their kidnapper was in fact their one and only nemesis; Villain.

At once, the hero’s anxiety lifted and their stomach twisted. Villain was a good sign, the two of them had been fighting for months now and had somewhat grown fond of each other after sharing a few rather… intimate moments.

However.

Villain was also a pain in Hero’s ass. All of their stunts brought on loads of paperwork and a heartache Hero couldn’t afford to call in sick to handle.

“L-Lucky me, huh?” They cleared their throat, taking another swig from the now half-empty water bottle they had been ‘generously’ left with. “Were you worried about me, darling?” They purred, winking with a confidence they truly lacked in this situation.

The villain scoffed, coming forwards out of the shadows as they stalked toward the hero’s prison. “Actually, yes.”

Their boots reached right before the cell bars, too close to be considered an enemy to the hero, yet too far to be considered a friend.

Slowly but surely, Hero pulled themselves to their feet, using the bars to help support their swaying weight, until they could look the villain straight in the eyes. “Is that so? Put a bit too much sedative in my coffee? Worried it might slow my heart all the way to a stop?” They punctuated their last word with a jab to the villain’s breastplate right where their heart lay.

The villain didn’t react. “Well excuse me if I get my dosage wrong when I try to mix a muscle relaxant into a brain stimulant.”

They both shared a small smirk, neither of them shared the same feeling behind it. Villain’s was conniving, Hero’s was cheeky.

“Oh poor Villain, hm? Next time tell me before you kidnap me that way I can buy a water bottle instead.”

Villain snorted, glancing over the hero’s appearance quickly before locking eyes with them once more. “I would’ve, and I will for next time. But today the occasion is a little different.”

It was crazy how fast the hero’s heart could lurch into their throat.

“How so?”

“Supervillain wants to see you.”

“What for.”

The criminal took a breath, probably able to smell the fear seeping from the hero’s pores all of a sudden and desperate for a simpler way to put what they were about to say next.

“It’s their birthday—”

“You’re gifting me to Supervillain!?”

The villain looked a little sheepish now, though not at all remorseful. “They’ve offered me a sector of their territory—it’s quite large really—in return for a day with the city’s saviour.”

Everything came crashing down onto the hero, all of their previous relief towards seeing the villain had vanished. What was left of their flirty behaviour and composure was long gone. They were going to be sick.

Sick or maybe they would just pass out, or black out and kill the villain in a violent stupor; they hadn’t decided yet.

“L-Let me get this straight.” Hero smoothed a hand through their suddenly sweaty hair. “Supervillain offered you a chunk of their made-up criminal territories, if you could deliver me firsthand in time for their birthday.”

“They said they would return you in one piece to the Agency, if that helps?”

Hero was definitely going to throw up. A whole day with the Supervillain? They were done for. “You mean return my dead body in one piece.”

Villain was definitely paler—as if the true outcome of their actions was just being realized—but hardly as panicked as the hero was. “Supervillain promised they wouldn’t hu—”

“Do you trust Supervillain.”

With wide eyes the villain blinked at the panicking hero and the crime-stopper could already tell the answer, but they wanted to hear it. Hero knew that Villain had gone through rigorous conditioning with Supervillain for years before they met the hero, but somehow they had thought they were finally getting through that shell and into the real Villain’s heart.

“Villain. Do you trust Supervillain.”

The criminal’s features darkened, body language shifting towards increasingly uncomfortable. They nodded—almost robotically.

“Supervillain knows what’s best for me—what’s best for all of us.”

Hero’s heart sank.

The Speed Of Pain

Chapter One

Denver, Colorado

June 24th, 1997

Charlotte

I finally made it! After four years I'm finally free from the school system! With a degree in business management to boot. Now it's time to enjoy my summer before entering the " real " world. I plan on having the most fun while I can. 

What are my plans? Ozzfest of course! This is my first time on the road with my dad and there is a whole lineup of amazing bands to see as well. I haven't seen my brother and sister since Christmas so I know we'll be having lots of fun on this tour.  

Quickly maneuvering my way backstage I find the old man talking to Billy from Black Sabbath.  

" Dad! " I cry out as I run up and wrap my arms around him. " I missed you. "

And I really did. I hate how we've had to do things growing up. I love my mom, but she has never made it easy for him to be the father I needed. Now that I'm out of school I plan on spending as much time with him as possible. 

" I missed you too, Schroeder. " He says holding me tight.

I pull back and he lants a huge kiss on my cheek. " My eldest. "

" My daddy. " I say smiling as Sharon walks into the room. " Mom! " 

I run into her arms and she hugs me as only she can. " Hello, my darling. It's good to have you back. " She says before pulling away and taking a good look at me. 

" It's good to be back. I'm just glad to have my degree out of the way. " I tell her in an exhausted tone.

Nodding she claims, " yes, of course, we're all so very proud of you ".   

" Thanks. " I say graciously. " I can't wait to move forward with my career and leave school behind me. " 

" Sis! " 

Turning to my left I see my only brother, Jack, racing toward me.

" Jacky, look at you! " I say not believing he big he is. " You've grown at least four inches in the last six months. "

He gives me a smug look before correcting me. " Five. " 

" Well excuussee me. " I say laughing. 

I then hear from behind, " hey, Lotty "!

I know that voice. My baby sister, Kelly. Turning around I see the most amazing yet disturbing sight. Instead of focusing on Kelly, I can't help but stare at the man in the black corset.

Then my baby sister registers. " Kel's! " I damn near squeal before scooping her up in a hug and spinning her around. Putting her down I smooth out her pigtails and smile. " I missed you. " 

" Me too... Meet Marilyn! He's really fun. " She says as she goes and hangs onto his arm.

Holding my hand out I say, " hi, I'm Charlotte. It's nice to meet you. "

" Likewise. Any sister of Kelly's is a friend of mine. " He says while shaking my hand.

And just like that, his voice melts my insides more than his appearance interests me. It's like melted chocolate mixed with the devil himself. Damn.

" That was my favorite book growing up. " He says off the cuff. 

I am clearly confusion. " Hmm? "

" Charlotte's Web. " He clarifies. 

Smiling I roll my eyes. " Mine too. I think it's the first chapter book I ever finished. "

" Schroeder, come spend some time with your dear old dad. " I hear him call. 

Giving Marilyn one last smile, I say over my shoulder, " coming ". 

Looking back at the oddly attractive man I say, " I'll see you later ". 

Manson

Being here at my first Ozzfest is bitchin'. I wasn't expecting to be involved but money is money at the end of the day. Plus Ozzy is cool so it's a nice gig. I can't lie, when we got the call to join them I wasn't too sure if it would be a good fit. That changed once we got to the first city. Ozzy and Sharon are great and their kids are cool. 

Kelly took a real liking to me and has been like my little shadow since we got here. Usually, I don't like kids, but I make an exception for her and Jack. They're punk rock all the way. We've been having a blast to put it lightly. I was actually pretty surprised that Ozzy and Saron would even let their children be around this lifestyle but I guess it's better the devil you know than the ones you don't. At least they know where Kelly and Jack are at all times. 

After sound check, I'm hanging out with the rest of the band when we see a small commotion over where Ozzy's camp is set up. " What's going on? " I ask as Pogo is heading back from catering. 

" Some leggy blonde just showed up. She's pretty hot but looks like she'll give any one of us blue balls just for fun. "  He says with a shrug. 

It's then that Kelly comes barreling over with a huge smile on her face. " Marilyn! Come on I want you to meet my sister. " She says before grabbing my arm and trying to drag me away. I give in as is becoming usual to Kelly's requests. 

" Hey, Lotty! " She yells as we get closer. 

The one she's leading me to has her back toward us. It's a nice back no doubt and her golden hair shines in the fading sunlight. It's then that I realize this must be who Pogo saw. She turns around and her eyes land directly on me. 

Wow.  I'm not usually one for blonde hair and blue eyes, but her smooth pale skin is very pleasing to the eye. She's still staring but I'm used to people doing it at this point in my career. This stare though... It's different. Not one of judgment or fear. More like curiosity and intrigue. 

" Kel's! " She exclaims before lifting her up and spinning her around.

I stand here awkwardly as she plays with Kelly's hair a bit. It's then that the young girl remembers my existence. 

" Meet Marilyn! He's really fun. " She says as she takes hold of my arm.

Holding her hand out she speaks to me for the first time. " Hi, I'm Charlotte. It's nice to meet you. "

" Likewise. Any sister of Kelly's is a friend of mine. " I tell her as I shake her hand.

Just then my mouth works before my brain can catch up. " That was my favorite book growing up. "

" Hmm? " She asks not understanding what I'm going on about. 

Shrugging simply I say, " Charlotte's Web ".

 " Mine too. I think it's the first chapter book I ever finished. " She says as she puts a piece of hair behind her ear. 

I love it when girls do that. It's an easy giveaway as to whether they're interested or not. Not that I'm looking or anything. It's just nice to know I have such an effect on such a beautiful woman. The fact that she has good taste in books is a bonus. 

Just as I'm about to speak again, Ozzy comes into view effectively ruining the moment. " Schroeder, come spend some time with your dear old dad. "

" Coming. " She tells him from over her shoulder. Turning back to me she says, " I'll see you later. " 

As she walks back to Ozzy's camp I can't help but whisper, " not yet you aren't ".

AN OFFER YOU CANNOT REFUSE.

Why do I do it?

Why do I say no, mean no and give yes?

Why do I not protest?

When he presses my face down.

When he rubs my shoulder with that look in his eye, while mine try to avoid eye contact with the blossoming member bursting forth from his zipper.

“Open your mouth.”

He beckons with his slanty eyes.

“Just for a little while.”

And I concede.

He’s the only one who takes care of me.

The only one who loves for me… always there for me.

It’s the least I could do…

For all he’s given me.

All he offers me…

All the money he spends on me.

I should be grateful.

After all… he bought me—

Everything.

He steps away and he owns me in that cocky smile.

Comes back to kiss me in my mouth… even though I just said I don’t want love for a while.

He owns me.

And my eyes only cry when I think of you.

You used me too.

Yours didn’t feel like love, like his kisses do.

I belonged to you, but you didn’t buy me.

You didn’t take no well either.

You were so forceful, but I wanted you…

And all you wanted was me.

But this is a different kind of force.

This is heavier.

It weighs on the slump of my shoulders.

It feeds on my will.

Takes advantage of my needs.

Inferiority, not submission.

But you all get what you want.

As I look around with my dead eyes, I relish the fact that at least you made me feel alive.

You loved me didn’t you?

That’s why I felt full when I left you, not empty and dying.

If I was a vehicle, you took off my wheels just to change my tires.

You wanted me to go far and fast.

You didn’t boot me in the yard.

You gave me a collar not a leash.

Running away was always up to me.

I wanted to be free, and you were running wild.

But the man who bought me from my home built an invisible fence that shocks me when I cross it…

He says it doesn’t exist.

The few times I got out to see you are always moments I cherish.

But you never take those times as seriously as me.

I am a table and I’m beginning to buckle under the weight.

The expectations, the questions, I am becoming worn down and easy to manipulate.

You kept me rigid, and I wish I remained that way since the first date…

Like I said… I cherish you.

But you left me and this is my fate.

Without your love I am trapped in a fence with no gate.

Surrounded by hopelessness, because you finally said it.

Or maybe this is the only time you didn’t, but I finally heard it.

My heart laments, again I grieve.

You will never come back to me, so why would I leave?

The man everyone wants me to marry… and sometimes I do too, when I remember there is no you.

He bought me after all… with nice gestures and things.

With light ears that listen to everything.

No one else will ever love me this way.

Besides I may have no choice in the matter these days…

He’s already tried to propose me an idea.

But he was serious…

And my heart stalled momentarily and I flushed with tears, thinking that I would never see you here.

Never again feel you near…

I hope in that other life we spoke of you and I are happy.

I hope that in some way all this misery will cause her joy, so she never knows this pain.

I’m going down this road on a path I do not know.

My heart screamed no, but that hurt screamed yes.

I could never love you any less.

They all called you evil, but you made me feel whole.

I called you lost.

My love for you will never fade… I hope I can get out again and find you someday.

To see the life you chose.

To miss you one last time, to hold you in my mind.

Before I remember I was never worth your time.

You were right, I will always be yours.

But It’s been years since you were ever mine.

I love you, ever, still, and always.

I always thought it meant something.

We all want to believe the pretty lies.

-DC

wakanda

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.

word count: 2.4k (lol, sorry)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a cutie.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Welcome to Wakanda, agent (Y/N)”.

A second after you crossed their airspace, you were courteously greeted. The views from your ship were indescribable. Peace invaded you just at the sight of the open fields and the warm colors of autumn. You could get used to that place too. To live in calm, work hand-to-hand with Shuri, and have time to spend it with Bucky. The reason why you were flying there. Removing your right hand from the control and grabbing in a fist the dog tags hanging on your chest, you took a deep breath while closing your eyes before getting ready to land. T’Challa was waiting for you at the entry of his kingdom, accompanied by his excited little sister and some of his guards.

Pressing a sequence of buttons above your head, to pull the control back, the ship went down slowly folding its wings. As you landed and turned off the engineers, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and the huge headphones to step out. Shuri received you with a friendly hug, breaking protocol and being just Shuri. You built a strong relationship since you met a year ago, when you brought Bucky to that beautiful and magical place, to let him recover. To let him rest.

“Your highness”. You uttered to T’Challa crossing your forearms in the traditional salutation of Wakanda.

“Agent (Y/N)”. He corresponded walking closer. “The white wolf asked me to let you know he wouldn’t want to be… bothered with visits today”.

You couldn’t help but frown. The last time you saw him was around three months ago. You usually interchanged letters from week to week, being one of the fewer persons he trusted in. And it wasn’t just a question of trust. Steve told you about his feelings, his shyness, and insecurities, his fears. What Bucky didn’t know, again, it wasn’t a question of trust from you either. That’s why the Captain gave you the dog tags, after more than thirteen years under custody. You wanted to see him, to know if he was happy there as he wrote you in his letters one million times.

“He doesn’t wear his arm here”. Shuri clarified, taking a position close to his brother.

By the look on their faces, you were aware of two things. One, they noticed too that something was growing between Bucky and you, and that it wasn’t a simple friendship. Two, they weren’t going to stop you. Oh, quite the opposite. They’d bring you to him on a golden platter and a big red bow on your head. The king beckoned a hand to urge you to follow him to the inside of the building and use one of their ships to fly above the place to the white wolf’s location.

You were nervous. You didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours last night thinking about him and how he’d react to having back his tags since the forties. Your eyes were focused throughout the window on your left, watching different citizens taking care of animals and plantations, children running from one side to another, playing and having fun. Oblivious to the horror of New York, where you resided. One of the cities in the world with the highest rates of street violence. Serial killers or simply killers, rapists, kidnappers, drug dealers (...). It was a minefield and Wakanda seemed and felt like Heaven.

“Did you think about the offer?” Shuri nudged you to push you back to reality, turning your head towards her.

“Since you dropped it to me”.

“So?”

“I…” You needed to put away your gaze again, focusing on the blue opened sky in front of them. “I want… to consult him first if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, (Y/N)”.

“I don’t want to put his world upside down, now that he’s not the…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t pronounce that detestable nickname and the pain beneath it.

Shuri nodded in silence, not needing your explanations. She knew how you felt. She understood you. The talk didn’t continue, stretching your right hand on your lap to calm your nerves and make you comfortable with the situation. The flight didn’t last longer than five or ten minutes, losing the track of time deep in your thoughts. The pilot indicated to you through the headphones that you were about to land, glancing at a complex of small houses in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and wilderness.

You were the last one jumping outside with your hand grabbing the tags on your chest, trying to find the encouragement there to follow T’Challa’s hand pointing at a man working with goats and collecting hay for them. Licking your lips and assenting with your chin, you guided your steps towards him. Slowly. As if you wanted to turn around at some point. But you knew it was too late when he was the one turning at the sound of your heavy boots cracking the grass under them.

Bucky didn’t look annoyed for your visit, nor the lack of attention to his petition. Although there was something in his pale blue orbs you weren’t able to decipher, until he bowed down his head unconsciously to his left shoulder covered by a dark fabric matching his eyes. You had to do your best to not roll yours, shortening the distance setting you apart. You had been dreaming about that encounter since the last time you were there before Shuri accessed the darkest place of his mind and cleaned it from any trail of HYDRA. Now, he was free. And he looked in good condition as the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his hair was almost tied with a bun. His cheeks seemed a little more chubby and you just wanted to pinch them. But it’d be weird and out of place. For the time being.

Bit by bit, a sweet smile widened in your lips, curving them as Bucky stared at you again when he was conscious that you didn’t care. With or without a metal arm, your feelings were exactly the same. You couldn’t admire him more than you were admiring him at this point. You couldn’t love him more than you loved him already. And God was a witness of how many times you practiced to confess to him and tell him that the only thing you wanted in life was to be by his side. Bring happiness to his days, bring him peace and harmony.

“I'm sorry…” “I brought you…”

You two spoke at the same time, breaking in a soft giggle that jumped your hearts in complete sync.

“You first”. He let you, waving his hand.

“I… brought you something”. You susurrated, loosening the grip around the metal hanging on your chest to take off the necklace.

You noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Why did you have them? Who gave them to you? Why now? Bucky gulped watching you stretching the dog tags between your fingers towards him. He didn’t know what to do, taking a second before he was able to react. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw them, and the amount of memories they gave him overwhelmed his whole brain.

In slow motion narrowing his eyes, Bucky held the chain with two fingers to hang the necklace from it. You thought he was about to wear them, but he destabilized you as he directed his hands to above your head, to place them where they were an instant before. You didn’t understand. Didn’t he want them back?

“I want you to keep it”.

“But…”

“I want you to have something mine”. Bucky recognized with a shy smile decorating his lips. “Those tags and my arm are the only things I have from my past. And… I won’t give you my arm…”

“Well, I bet it’d look good hanging from my neck”. You jocked tilting your head.

In his gift, you found the encouragement you needed to talk about T’Challa’s job offer. It wasn’t as if you were proposing to him, in the end, you were just friends even if it felt quite the opposite. You licked your upper lip, kissing your teeth after it, earning more than his attention.

“Shuri said, uh… I could come here, work with her. We’d do great things together, not only for Wakanda but for the world”.

Bucky’s gesture didn’t change a single inch, focused on the nervousness you were trying to hide from him and reading the reasons beneath.

“So T’Challa offered me to stay here”.

“Permanently?”

“Yeah… Permanently”. You assented pressing your lips, breathing through your nostrils.

“Did you accept?”

“Not yet. Not until talking to you about”.

He nodded then a couple of times, turning to the goats behind him coming closer. “Got to finish some stuff… Maybe we can talk later about it unless you have to leave”.

“No, no. I, uh… asked for the day off. Banner didn’t need me at the lab today”.

“Okay, good”.

While the king was showing you the new level for research and investigations, Bucky took the advantage to go and find Shuri without your knowledge. He found her in the surroundings of the main building, working on your ship as you said it made some kind of random noise that put you out of your nerve during the flight.

“I need my arm”.

The princess squatted close to the left wing, turned at him without standing up. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of his head, she raised an eyebrow.

“For what”.

“You know for what”. He clicked his tongue, placing his hand on his left shoulder.

“No, I don’t”. She lied while cleaning the grass and oil in her expert fingers.

“I need to have two arms”.

“You’ve been working the last months with one arm only. Why do you need it now?”

“C’mon… Argh…” Bucky rubbed his face with boredom. “I want to hug her, okay? Can you just… give me back my damn arm?”

“Not enough reasons, you can hug her using your right”.

“I want to have two hands when I kiss her”. He finally confessed in a hiss, provoking a triumphant smile growing on Shuri’s lips.

“If you lie to me, if you don’t kiss her, Sergeant Barnes… I’ll code it to punch your face”.

“Wait…” Bucky wrinkled his nose drawing a horrified gesture on his face, as he turned his blue eyes towards his left shoulder. “Can you… do that?”

“Try me”.

No, of course she couldn’t, but he didn’t know. Which were a good push for him to not go against her and her petition.

“C’mon. I’ll set it up and help you to put it on”.

Your eyes were traveling from one picture to another. He put some of them around his small house and it looked better now. More like a home. A place to stay. And for a second you felt a twinge straight in your heart when you noticed one photograph of the two of you, close to his bed. It was after your first mission together. Steve insisted on taking it, after noticing the sparkles between you. But you didn’t know he brought it to Wakanda with him, as your copy is on your nightstand too. And you used to fall asleep every night looking at it.

The curtain being moved and some steps in pulled you out from your thoughts, turning to find Bucky staring in silence at you. Your orbs landed on the metal arm. It was different too since the last time you saw it, with golden strips forming between the silver ones. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“You didn’t need to…”

“Yes, I did. I did need it”. He interrupted you, breathing through his parted lips and his heart about to fly off from his chest.

“Why?”

“Because, otherwise, I couldn’t do this”.

You were about to ask what he was referring to, watching him breaking the distance between the two of you in three fast strides. You closed your eyes at the moment his hands held your neck and Bucky slammed his lips on yours. The kiss, the contrast of cold and warmth on your skin, the everlasting longing for it to happen… All of this caused you to gasp, tangling the tunic at the height of his chest in your fists, not wanting him to take a step back. Your mouths fit perfectly without looking for it, made for each other, as he secured his fingers on the back of your neck. And you felt your knees weak when he pecked your lips one more time, before caressing your nose with his, not being able to open your eyes. Neither of you.

“I don’t have the right… to ask for anything”. He babbled. His insecurities coming afloat even if you hadn’t pushed him away. “But… I want you to stay here. With me. I… I don’t have much to offer you, but I promise to make you happy”.

At this point, your eyes were filled with tears, strongly closing your eyelids to not let them fall. You swallowed a sob, moving your hands from his chest to his middle back, embracing him tighter as you could.

“You’ve been making me happy since we met, Bucky”.

He chuckled breathless, intuiting he was too at the edge of his crying because of that affirmation.

“Every Tuesday, I wait at the stairs of my apartment for the mail, for your letters. I’ve… read them so many times I can recite them… by heart. Every word you've written to me”.

“I will continue writing them for you, even if you stay with me”.

Your voices were low, barely audible out of his place. Like secrets. Bucky kissed you again, bending enough to raise you by the back of your thighs and urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The dog tags on your chest clicked against the other, as you moved your arms to his shoulders and neck, and you were unable to stop kissing him. You two could die right now and not be bothered because you were finally together, and that was all you deserved in life.

“Tell me you will stay… please”. His beg brushed your lips, still pecking them between syllable and syllable.

“I will…” You replied without hesitating as you could, eager to correspond to every gesture from him. “I will stay with you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

tag list: @mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @thewilloesapphire @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @the-mystery-spot @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @gemini0410 @nikkixostan @spidergirla5 @amethyst-butterfliess @mariska0610 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @goldielocks2004 @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67 @the-witty-pen-name @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark

@mayans-sauce @peoniarose @band-psycho @myakai13 @petlaufeyson @-im-fantastic- @horsesandwolvesaremyanimals @rocketqueen @rosieposie0624 @ellyseveronica @diaryofkali @ravenmoore14 @starrynite7114 @monkeyluver4546 @sheeshgivemeabreak @jadesamhart @rawrlittlepanda-95 @megapeacelovemusic-blog @skits90s @littlekittymeow @tenderclio @greeneyedblondie44 @phoenixhalliwell

"The City of Ruins"

Thranduil x Male (elf) Reader

Word count: 2344 Summary: Lost lovers reunite 🌙☄

Warnings: angst at first then fluff w/ smut later on, the begining of smut is marked tho so don't worry, reader's a bottom

🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄🌙 ☄

After the battle for Erebor you stayed behind in the city of Dale, it wasn't on your own accord, no. If it were up to you you would have returned to Mirkwood with your king, but you were banished from your home.

Such events came to be because you defied your king's orders to fall back and leave the dwarves to deal with orcs on their own. But you weren't gonna let your friends die, you weren't gonna let them fight on their own, even if it meant going against your king's will.

So you stayed behind, betrayed look on your king's face coming to haunt you more often than you'd like to admit. But you knew you did the right thing.

Many moons passed since the battle and you managed to fix yourself a home, it wasn't much, just a lower floor with a fireplace and a spot to lay on, but it's all you could muster up from the city in ruins.

You took it upon yourself to slowly clean and build around yourself, salvaging what you can of the city. And short trips to Laketown took care of your need for food and liquids.

It was a decent life, but terribly horribly lonely.

Your only friend being your thoughts and a bittersweet longing for your rín meleth*.

(*crowned love)

You feelings didn't come as surprise to you, they've been lingering for a while now but you've never acted on them, fearing he wouldn't feel the same and you'd cross a line. And besides, you were just a regular elf, no royalty, why would you ever be a match for him.

Dark stormy clouds gathered around the mountain and the city of Dale, heavy rain moments from being released.

You rushed to your small home in the heart of the city, arms full of twigs and branches, racing the time against the rain. And you made it in in the last second because just as you closed the door the sky came crashing down in big droplets.

You let out a sigh of relief and made your way to the fireplace, placing the newbrought wood at the side of it and started the night's fire. After making sure it's well lit and strong, you moved the remaining wood on the side for later.

You got up and took off unnecessary layers of clothes and your boots as the room started to fill up with warmth, setting them on their spot near the door.

Fixing your hair up in a messy bun you sat down on your bed and just as your were about to lay down for your daily rest, an unexpected knock on the door broke the comfortable silence mixed in with the crackling of the fire.

You looked up at the door and slowly got up, wondering who could it be as no guests announced themselves for the following days.

Creaking the door open your eyes widened in surprise. There in front of you, soaked in rain head to toe, stood none other than your ex king.

Your shock was soon pushed away by reminiscence of betrayal and old memories that came flooding your thoughts.

"How could you do that to me?.." pained expression pushed it's way through on kings face, trying to overcome the angry one that he tried so hard to keep.

"I already told you, but I guess you've gone deaf on your ears, I wouldn't and I won't let my friends die because you were too much of a coward to fight!" you started slow and calm but by the end of the sentence got louder and angrier, fire of the old argument rekindling fast.

"I am no coward! I did that to save the lives of our people! To save your life!" he growled back.

Anger gushed through your body but you said nothing, staring at his icy blue eyes.

"You might be-You maybe were my king, but my friends' lives are more important than your orders," you turned away, walking deeper into the house.

Thranduil followed, doors closing after him, and looked around a bit, feeling bad seeing how you lived since he threw you out of your home.

"You're so stubborn.." he sighed heavily, "What if something happened to you? What would I do then? What would I do without you??"

You turned around slightly and looked over at him. Worry of past events and what-ifs ridden across his face mixing with anger towards your stubbornness.

"You did just fine.." you muttered almost inaudibly, looking back away to hide your tears, old feelings starting to become too much.

He looked at you in shock for a few moments before regaining his ability to speak, "What… You think I enjoyed banishing you?? You think I enjoyed returning home without you and spending months an months with you nowhere in sight?? You think I like that?? .. When people ask me where you are?? .. Not seeing your face ever day??…"

"You think my soul isn't tearing into pieces without my meleth.." he looked at you, sadness twisting his face into a pained expression.

Your eyes widened at the last part and you turned around swiftly, standing there with your mouth agape for a few moments before speaking, " . . . Your meleth?.."

Thranduil's eyes widened a bit as well after he realized what he had said but then closed slowly as his expression melted into one of saddened agreement.

"You loved me?.." you asked softly.

He nodded, ". . . I still do.."

"Why didn't you say anything?.." you took a few steps towards the taller male, closing the gap between you two almost completely, and searched his eyes with your own.

"I feared you wouldn't feel the same.. and I couldn't bear the thought of losing you if that were true.." he finally gazed back at you.

"Silly king," you muttered through a slight smile forming on your face, " I loved you for hundreds of years, and I still do," you took his hands in yours and held them to your chest.

At your words his face lit up like forest in spring waking up from a long winter dream and he leaned I swiftly, locking his lips with yours, something he's been yearning to do for so long.

Without thinking you returned the kiss, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace and he did the same, his strong arms washing away all the worries and making you feel like the whole world around you disappeared.

"Return home with me my meleth, rule as a king by my side, let's never part again," he whispered into your neck.

Your lips spread into a warm smile as you gazed upon his eyes, "I'd like that very much."

((smut continuation from here on))

The two of you settled down on a crapet by the fireplace, setting your journey back to Mirkwood for tomorrow, when the storm hopefully calms down.

You forced the king to take off the outer layer of his clothes to put to dry by the fire and he undid his wet hair too, allowing it to dry easier on the warm air.

The two of you rested in each other's arms for a while, letting the fire warm you both up as you chatted exchanging some old stories and talks of your lingering feelings.

He smiled down at you, arms wrapped around your body as you rested your back against his chest. You looked up at him, returning the smile, "What?"

"Nothing. I just am wondering why we didn't confess sooner," he placed a warm kiss onto your jaw.

"Me too," your eyes instantly closed as he did that, "I guess we are two completely oblivious idiots," you added with a chuckle.

He let out a chuckle as well, "That we are." He grinned and kissed you deepy, passion spilling out from his lips.

You smiled into the kiss and returned just as passionately, cupping his cheeks in the process.

The bigger elf moved slightly, allowing your bodies to face each other, before wrapping his arms around you again.

The two of your kept on kissing, the kiss turning from slow and passionate to yearning and with a lot more tongue.

His hands started roaming your body and soon enough your vest was off, and shortly after your shirt too.

At the motion you parted your kiss and the two of you exchanged a knowing look. And just as quickly his lips were back on yours and your hands now undoing his top.

Once you won the battle with his shirt he moved his lips to your neck, tracing kisses and licks before the same turned into bites and sucks, leaving hickeys behind that ended up littering your neck and your chest.

You moaned on his actions, running your fingers through his hair and giving it a gentle thug on each bite he left on your soft skin.

He moved his attention to your lower stomach, leaving warm kisses there as he slipt your pants off with a single swift move.

You looked up at him, the two of you locking eyes, as you bit your lower lip. His gaze trailed around your body, taking in every bit of it, "Y/n.. you're beautiful.." he said, lust-laced desire dripping off his words.

The tone he spoke in made you shiver under his touch. He gave you a deep kiss and then proceeded to take his pants off too and soon enough both of yours undergarments followed.

He laid you down and got on top of you, kissing you deeply once again.

Your eyes stayed locked with his abs and, well, lower parts, being slightly taken aback by how good he looks.

He quickly caught up on your thoughts and smirked, making you in return blush like mad.

"Like what you see?" Thranduil smirked at his smaller lover who by the looks of it was about to burst into flames from the redness his cheeks reached caused by his words and that smug smirk Thranduil proudly wore.

He chuckled at his lover's sudden shyness and let his hand trail to his already errect memeber.

You gasped softly at the feel of his fingers on you and your eyes closed from pleasure, hand rushing to your mouth to silent the escaping moans.

Thranduil's hand reached for yours and moved it from your mouth, pinning it above your head, "I like your moans, don't hide them," he smirked and left kisses across your yaw and neck once again, as his hand worked magic bringing you all the way to the edge before abruptly stopping.

You looked up at him in wonder, unpleased and yearning for the pleasure to come back. He smirked softly at you and pulled you by your thighs closer to himself and his face went down.

You looked up at what he was up to and gasped in pleasure when you felt his slick tongue move against your hole. You fell back and your eyes rolled in sweetness as his tongue made it's way into you. It twisted and turned inside you, sending waves of pleasure all throughout your body, his hands squeezing your butt cheeks as they held onto them.

Once again you were on the edge of an orgasm and once again he pulled away just as you were about to reach it.

You whined slightly this time, pouting at his repeated action.

"Shhhhhh you'll like what comes next better-," he smirked at you and sat himself up again, grabbing at the sides of your thighs as he positioned himself at your now wet entrance.

You propped yourself up just enough to reach his lips and kiss him deeply, which he gladly returned, one of his hands reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Ready?" he smiled at you warmly as you two held your faces close to one another. You gave him a soft nod, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

He slowly started pushing in, giving you enough time in-between each little push to adjust to him in you, moans rolling off your tongue along with rugged breaths.

Once he was all the way inside you he kissed you deeply, distracting you from any lingering pain till it all melted away into burning pleasure.

Holding at your sides he slowly started moving his hips pushing his big length in and out of you, at first slowly before picking up the pace. Moans streamed out of both of your mouths mixed up with muffled breathing between kisses.

"Ahhhh hhhhhngggg…" moans left your mouth one after the other as he picked up the pace even more, hand back on your ass and squeezing it.

Your finger nails raked his back in pleasure causing him to moan your name out between paced breaths, "Y/n… ahhh-."

You moved your lips to his neck, leaving the tall elf an even bigger moaning mess as you left hickey upon hickey against his skin.

He slapped your ass in the moment as he pushed in even deeper, reaching that sweet sweet spot, making you moan his name out even louder than before. He picked up on that and started hitting that spot repeatedly with even greater strength making you melt completely underneath him.

He could tell you were very close and so was he, and with a few more strong thrusts both of you came hard, moaning each other's names and spilling, you on his and yours stomach and him inside of you.

Panting he brought himslef down and placed a loving kiss on your lips, exhausted with pleasure and still riding your orgasm you returned.

He gently pulled out and plopped down next to you, pulling you close into his warm embrace.

You two stayed like that for a while, hugging and unable to reach your breaths.

Once your breath returned to your lungs you snuggled up into his chest and kissed his yaw, "I love you my king."

He smiled down at you and hugged you tighter, placing a long kiss onto your lips, "I love you too meleth."

A Favor: Part Twenty-Two

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

content warnings: secondhand embarrassment, i dont know how skiing works, poor editing, NSFW 🔥

***

To Nesta’s horror, Cassian was serious when he said he’d teach her how to ski. Nevermind the fact that it’s his birthday, and they should be having a lazy morning together filled with cuddles and breakfast in bed. Instead, they’ve been up since six in the morning without food or drink, just to shuffle around in the snow while Cassian repeats the same instructions over and over. By late morning, the rest of their group has gotten up and joined them at the beginner’s trail to be firsthand witnesses to Nesta’s humiliation.

She stares down at the blinding white slope before her and inhales a breath of frigid mountain air, trying to steel her nerves before she has to push off the ground and take flight.

Cassian sees her hesitation and sighs. “Come on, Nesta,” he urges. “It’s thirty feet to the bottom of the hill.”

“Why is it so steep?” she demands, even though she knows this is a practice hill. Toddlers in skis are shuffling around them, hand in hand with their parents.

“You’re not falling to the bottom,” Cassian says, growing impatient. “You’re gliding.”

He’s already shown her how to maneuver with skis a dozen times already, and Nesta can see that he doesn’t have another dozen times left in him. Unfortunately for him, Nesta’s own patience was used up hours ago. Her stomach pangs with hunger, and she has a pounding headache from the cold and lack of sleep.

“Oh, come on, Nesta,” Gwyn calls from behind her. She hops up and down in her snow boots like a cheerleader. “You can do it!”

Nesta does not want to do it. She looks down at the hill, then back at Cassian with pleading eyes—eyes that he can’t see under her ski goggles anyway.

“I can’t take this anymore,” Azriel mutters from somewhere. He picks up his ski poles and points to Emerie. “Ski lift?”

“Sure—” she starts to say, and then remembers that she’s here to support Nesta. “Not now,” she amends.

“Just go,” Cassian turns to tell them. “At least some of us will be having fun.” Nesta watches as he goes over to Emerie and Az to give advice on the trails, the same frustration from last night building in her chest.

Stupid ski trip. Stupid uninvited guests. Stupid birthday that Cassian isn’t even treating like a birthday.

Gritting her teeth, Nesta jabs her ski poles into the ground. She’ll conquer this hill, and then she’ll conquer the rest of the trail, and then she’ll take her skis and set them on fire.

With everyone briefly preoccupied and no eyes on her, Nesta pushes herself downhill. Her skis slip a little as she takes off but she readjusts her feet the way Cassian showed her, regaining control. She takes a deep breath, realizing the height isn’t as scary as she thought it would be. Testingly, she bends her knees and pushes herself farther, gaining speed.

“Oh, oh, look!” she hears Gwyn say from behind her. “She’s doing it!”

The voice breaks Nesta out of her precarious concentration, and she almost misses the kid right in front of her skiing at the pace of a turtle. Gasping, Nesta swerves at the last second to avoid running him over.

Her skis clack into each other and she feels her ankle twist, and then she’s down. Hard. Her face meets snow and her ski gear jabs into her body as she tumbles down the rest of the hill, until she finally meets flat ground and rolls to a painful stop.

Nesta only hears a dull roar in her ears as she slowly pushes herself upright. Ignoring alarmed looks from stray skiers around her, she reaches forward and unstraps one ski from her foot, then the other. Her goggles fall to the ground next. Once free, she stands up and walks away, ignoring the calls of her friends from the hilltop.

She walks until she loses sight of the trail and then the resort, until the flattened and trampled snow piles up into powdery mounds untouched by human presence. A cropping of towering evergreens appears before her, and she heads straight for the thicket without pausing.

Once safely entombed by the dark tree trunks and frosted branches, Nesta releases a breath and screams. Screams until the frustration and anger within her bluntens just a little.

The forest absorbs her fire and answers with silence.

“Better now?” Cassian’s voice comes from behind her.

Nesta whirls, ready to fling her next scream at him for having the nerve to follow her, but she only restrains herself because it’s his birthday. Guilt and humiliation nips at her; she shouldn’t be doing this on his birthday. “Leave me alone.” Her voice is raw from shrieking.

Cassian only takes a step closer to Nesta, eyeing her up and down. “You’re not hurt, right? ’Cause that would be embarrassing for you.”

Any edge that was taken off starts to build up again, and Nesta really doesn’t want to look at him right now. “Cassian—”

“Your face is turning red,” he suddenly gasps, pointing. “You should try yelling again, babe. I don’t think the entire resort heard you last time.”

Done with her boyfriend’s shit, Nesta releases a growl and rushes at him. He’s a lot closer than she realized, and in a blink she slams right into his broad chest and shoves him with all her might.

Cassian laughs, short and blunt, and pushes her right back. Her back hits hard-packed snow and then he’s on top of her, pinning her wrists loosely beside her head. Icy wetness seeps past the neck of her jacket.

“Do you want me to fucking bite you?” Nesta snarls, getting in Cassian’s face.

“Always,” he says without hesitation, pressing closer to her. “But first you gotta take a breather.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” she seethes back. At this rate, she really might bite him. She wants to see his smug face drop when he realizes he pushed her too far.

“You might have an aneurysm at this rate with your anger issues.” He pouts prettily. “Imagine how sad that would make me.”

“I DON’T HAVE ANGER ISSUES!” she shrieks.

Cassian barely blinks. Nesta breathes heavily in the ensuing silence, realizing how embarrassing this is for her. Yet she doesn’t know how to stop.

Closing her eyes, she drops her head to the ground and turns away. Wishing she could sink into the ground and vanish for a few minutes, at least until she gets herself under control again.

After a moment of quiet, she feels the back of Cassian’s fingers brush her neck. “I wondered where that spitfire girl went,” he says lowly. “She didn’t die. You just hid her very well.”

Nesta’s body doesn’t know whether to feel soothed or incited by the touch, the words. “Does it make you happy?” she breathes, her eyes still closed. “That she’s still there?”

“It would be murder if you ever got rid of her. Don’t you dare,” he threatens.

Nesta huffs a derisive laugh. It’s easy for him to say, when he isn’t the one that has to live with it. “I bet you’re enjoying this.”

“Only if you are.” He sounds completely genuine, and Nesta feels him pluck something out of her hair—likely a snowflake.

Realizing Cassian has long since released her wrists, she opens her eyes and stares at the column of his neck. She doesn’t see the regret and concern on his face when he says, “I ruined today, didn’t I?” She watches him swallow before he adds, “I’m sorry, Nes.”

“It’s your birthday,” she mutters, looking away. “You can do whatever you want.” Even if it’s spending the whole day skiing.

“You’re right about that.” His warm breath hits her nose, and now that Nesta’s head is somewhat clear, she can feel every place where his body settles into hers.

Before she can betray herself and forget how upset she was at him only a few minutes ago, Cassian pushes up and off of her. Frigid air replaces where he was just sprawled, and then he’s holding out a hand to Nesta. “We’re going back to our room,” he says, watching Nesta’s feet closely as he helps her stand. “You can ride on my back.”

“Why?” Nesta grumbles, brushing herself off. “I can walk fine.”

“You twisted your right ankle on the way down that hill, and you started limping as soon as you thought you were out of sight.” Cassian turns around and points at his back. “Get on while I’m being nice.”

That makes Nesta scoff, because he’s always nice, but she has little fight left today. She tries to reach up to wrap her arms around his neck, but Cassian grabs her legs and hitches her up onto his back before she can struggle.

She responds with a scowl, clasping her hands across his chest and getting comfortable. “You noticed I was hurt but didn’t have a problem with tackling me to the ground?”

Cassian squeezes her thighs and holds her closer, tossing a blinding smile over his shoulder. “Sorry if I wasn’t expecting you to try to jump me with an injured foot. You took me by surprise.”

“Bullshit,” Nesta says as they start walking out of the trees. “You did it on purpose.”

“Do you like starting fights, Archeron?”

“Do you?” she retorts.

They bicker back and forth like that until they reach the resort, and even once they’re inside the lobby, Cassian doesn’t put Nesta down. The exhaustion of the day has settled over the both of them by then, and the elevator ride up to the penthouse is peacefully quiet.

Back at the empty suite, Cassian carefully lowers Nesta to her feet. “Take your clothes off,” is all he says before heading for the bathroom, shedding his heavy outer jacket as he goes. Nesta has no problem listening; she’s all too happy to take her snow-drenched gear off and breathe air-conditioned air again.

She only realizes as she’s removing her boots that her overwrought emotions must have dulled the real pain of her fall. Her entire body aches down to the bone, and her twisted ankle has it the worst. Inspecting the swollen skin around her foot, she wonders if Cassian will make her see a doctor when the sound of a running faucet pulls her attention. Still dressed in her thermal underwear, Nesta pads over to the bathroom.

Inside, the room is dim, and the only light comes in from the single window panel at the far end of the room. Cassian sits on the rim of the clawfoot tub as it fills with heated water, already naked.

Nesta coughs, caught off guard. The sight is far from unfamiliar to her, and yet she hates to admit that she’ll never not react to it.

Cassian looks up at her, meeting her eyes head on, and a giggle almost escapes her.

“What’s that dumb look on your face?” he says with high brows. “Take your clothes off and get in.”

Nesta firmly schools her face into obedience. Is she a grown woman or a schoolgirl? she chides herself as she strips naked. But as soon as she’s free of her top and leggings, Cassian stops her. “Turn around,” he says.

Is this a sex thing? She hopes it’s a sex thing. She does as she’s told, and hears Cassian hiss in a breath. Glancing at the mirror over the sink, Nesta winces when she realizes what he sees. “Damn.” Her back is peppered with still-forming bruises from her fall, along with her legs and ribs.

Getting up, Cassian approaches her and cautiously runs his fingers over a reddened spot on her ribs. “I think a ski pole stabbed me there,” Nesta says, frowning down at the bruise. She looks like shit, and not at all in a desirable way.

“How’s your ankle?” Cassian kneels to check for himself, handling her like a porcelain doll. He presses gently above the bone where she twisted it. “Does that hurt?”

Nesta considers saying yes, just so he can keep fussing over her like this, but she shakes her head. “I’m fine. Just a little achy.”

A sudden chaste kiss between her legs makes her yelp, and she twists to find Cassian still on his knees, grinning sheepishly up at her. “You know what can help with those aches?”

Nesta blanks as Cassian runs a calloused hand up her inner leg. “Uh…really good dick?”

Cassian is visibly trying not to smile when he says, “A bath.” He stands and turns the faucet off, before going to help Nesta into the tub.

Steaming hot water just beneath the point of being uncomfortable hits Nesta’s calves, then her hips and chest. She might moan in relief as she sinks into the bath.

Cassian settles in across from her, taking up most of the tub space as Nesta twists her ponytail into a bun. He takes her ankle onto his lap and starts massaging above the injury. He notes, “We haven’t been alone like this in ages.”

“I remember when it was my job to be the chill guy,” he continues, rubbing circles into her leg. “I was the one doing stupid shit, and now I have to tell other people to knock it off when they do stupid shit. Since when did Azriel take my role?” he mutters to himself.

Nesta tilts her head against the lip of the tub and watches Cassian, taking in the barely visible lines of weariness on his face. She was once in a similar boat, too, where she had no one to answer to but herself. “Do you miss it?” she asks hesitantly. “Life before we got to know each other?” A life spent in the company of his friends, meeting different women every other week and being as free as possible.

“No,” he says easily. “I miss life before we had to share each other with other people.” He meets her eyes and smirks. “Who knew monogamy could be so exciting?”

Nesta’s stomach curls at his honesty, and she doesn’t know what to say. In the silence, Cassian reaches for a washcloth and lathers it with a bar of pine scented soap. But before he can reach for Nesta, she snatches the washcloth from him and pulls herself forward into the cradle of his limbs. What she can’t say, she’ll just have to show.

She starts soaping up his arms, granting extra attention to his tattooed biceps.

“You’re hurt—” he tries to protest.

“Shut up.” She runs the washcloth over his shoulders, across his collarbones.

When Nesta reaches his chest, she starts, “Earlier in the woods...I lost control.”

Cassian looks wary, but she goes on, “I don’t know why I did that. I thought I didn’t do that anymore.”

“I know why,” he says simply. “You were having a bad day. It was overwhelming.” He shrugs.

“But I’m better than that,” she insists. “You might think it's cute or funny when I—lose it, but I spent years training myself not to fall apart at the slightest inconvenience.” She takes in a breath, her movements slowing. “I learned how to escape reality, remember? I climbed into books and TV and songs, and at one point my entire life passed me by because I refused to participate in it. If I didn't participate, I couldn't be hurt.” She wrings out the washcloth, and Cassian carefully pries it out of her grip.

Nesta places her empty hands on her thighs, avoiding his touch, his eyes. “I think you were one of the only people who ever made me want to come back to real life,” she offers awkwardly. “That's why you made me uncomfortable at first. There were times I would look at you and think, He's better than anyone from the books. If I start living on the same plane as him, I can have him. Does that make sense?”

Cassian swallows visibly, but nods.

“It seemed like an impossible thing to do at the time—participate in the real world, make real friends. But have you noticed? I don’t read as many romance novels anymore.” Not because she doesn’t love them, but because she no longer needs them to remind herself she's alive.

She looks up at him, searching for his thoughts and opinions. Cassian looks like he's doing the same with her face, but then he says, “If you need to scream, even if it’s at me, tell me. I’ll take you somewhere far away, or I’ll let you have it out right in front of everyone. Whatever the hell you want, as long as you tell me. Please.”

Nesta starts to shake her head, adamant, but he stops her with the most pitiful look he's ever given her. “There’s nothing I hate seeing more than you trying to swallow down your rough edges. Even in the woods, you were about to tame yourself before I provoked you.” Cassian holds out a pinky, completely serious. “Consider it my birthday gift. Don’t do that shit anymore.”

Nesta stares at him, his plea warring with years of conditioned self-restraint. “I already got you a birthday gift,” she finally grumbles, but hooks his pinky with hers.

He seems satisfied, but doesn't let go of her pinky. With surprising strength, he uses their hooked fingers to pull Nesta into him, and she just barely catches herself on his chest before he brings her head down and kisses her deep.

Nesta already has her legs adjusted around his waist and his cock pressed against her stomach before she can pull away far enough to choke, “What’s this for?”

He leans up and catches her lips with his again, dipping his tongue just far enough inside to flick the roof of her mouth before retreating. “For existing. And for those aches.” He presses down lightly on a bruise at her back and runs a soothing thumb over it right after. Between her thighs, she feels him growing hard.

Nesta huffs a distracted laugh, the steam from the water sending a red flush up her chest and neck. It's suddenly very hot, and she unconsciously squirms in his lap. “I just realized I’ve never had sex in the bath before,” she says out of nowhere, rubbing her chest and quickly dropping her arms. She’s babbling, she knows. Contrary to popular media, being a seductress is harder than it looks. Half the time she has no idea what to say, and she considers herself lucky that Cassian is driven wild by it anyway.

Cassian entertains her, nodding along while his fingers slip past her ass, brushing her folds. “That sounds like something that should be amended, don’t you think?”

“Well, in terms of comfort I’m not sure if it’ll be better than the shower—” She’s cut off by a finger teasing at her entrance, making her jerk. “Yes,” she says quickly. “Yes, it should be amended.”

He hums thoughtfully, leaning in to nibble and suck at her neck. Her hardened nipples brush against his chest, and Nesta pushes closer into Cassian’s embrace. She’s half-rocking against him when she rasps, “How do you give head in the bath? Do I, like, have to hold my breath underwater?”

“You don’t need to know how,” he mutters, grasping her by the hips and tugging her up so that he’s eye level with her chest. He starts leaving a trail of openmouthed kisses across her breasts. “You’re not doing anything I don’t tell you to do today.”

“What do you mean?” Nesta’s grip on Cassian’s shoulders tightens when he brings a pink nipple into his mouth, sucking hard and pulling off with a flick of his tongue. She can’t move her hips for fear of climaxing at the slightest touch. “It’s your birthday,” she manages to get out. “And I like seeing what I can do to you.”

“Then save it for your birthday.” He pulls her back down firmly into his lap, making her thighs clench with restraint. “Because I like seeing what I do to you more.”

To prove his point, he parts her legs and slips one finger inside her. The smug pride on his face at what he finds makes Nesta move to grip the rim of the tub. Having a pretty boyfriend might have been a mistake, she thinks. That kind of face will get away with anything. Right now, for example.

“Tell me what you want, then,” she pleads.

Cassian leans back, pretending to think. “Sit on my cock,” he finally says.

An easy enough order, one Nesta is all too excited to carry out in only a few movements. It takes a minute to adjust to the fullness and the stretch, and the water doesn’t help in dousing the fire in her veins at all. With heat pounding deep in her core, Nesta releases a terse breath. Her tongue darts out to wet her lower lip, and Cassian watches.

“Now don’t move,” he orders.

“What?” Nesta’s knees involuntarily clench around his hips, her body already craving the feel of moving against him, on top of him.

He levels her with a look. “No clenching, no rocking, no touching.” He hisses in a thoughtful breath, combing a wet hand through his hair. “Actually, that isn’t very fair, is it?”

Nesta is about to nod furiously when he says, “You still need to wash yourself.” He hands her the washcloth she used on him earlier and leans his elbow on the rim of the tub. “Be quick about it. No games.”

Nesta’s eyes widen, looking at the washcloth, then back up at Cassian. Excitement tingles in her fingers and toes, and she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Gulping tightly, she soaps up the washcloth, then smooths the lather over her arms. It’s hard to focus on what she’s doing when there’s a pounding pressure between her legs, and the only thing that keeps her going is that she’ll be rewarded when she’s done. Cassian doesn’t bother watching her, instead tipping his head back against the tub and closing his eyes. From this angle, the tendons in his neck stand out clearly, and the hard line of his jaw looks tense. Nothing on his calm face reveals that Nesta is the reason for his tension, though.

Bringing the soapy cloth over her breasts, Nesta looks up to see if Cassian is secretly peeking at her through his lashes. His eyes remain shut, the perfect portrait of a man at rest.

Suddenly, his hips shift beneath hers, and Nesta nearly drops the washcloth. Straightening up, she has to use herculean strength to force her inner walls to relax around him. “You moved,” she accuses him.

“I was getting comfortable,” he says, still not opening his eyes.

“Why can you move but I can’t?”

That gets him to look at her. His eyes are hooded and lazy when he says, “You’re still talking?”

“Maybe if you had clearly explained the rules—” Nesta starts to grumble, but shuts up when he quirks a brow at her. She won’t lose this game, not for anything—even if she’s split at the seams with Cassian inside her and is one thread away from completely snapping.

Now fully alert, Cassian watches Nesta finish washing up. He hasn’t touched her once since he pulled her onto his cock, and now Nesta tries to make up for the aching lack by pretending her roaming hands are his.

It’s not until the washcloth reaches her tummy that Nesta pauses, her hand frozen over her lower abdomen. Because there, even past the cloth, she can feel him. The skin just slightly bulges, and she looks down at herself with her lips slightly fallen apart. She didn’t realize he was nestled so deep in her, but now she swallows past a lump in her throat. “Cassian…” she starts weakly. Every last muscle is trembling with the effort to stay still. Can he really be unaffected by all of this? Is she really the only one dying right now?

Without intending to, her hand drops the cloth, slipping toward her clit. She can only brush the sensitive nub before Cassian says quietly, “Don’t.”

So this is against the rules, too. She can’t even bring herself to look at him, she’s strung so tight. Taking a shallow breath, she grabs the pitcher from the shelf by the tub and fills it with water, using it to rinse off the suds. When she’s done, with water droplets running down every inch of her, she dares to look at Cassian again. Her anxiousness to get this over with must be written all over her face, and yet.

“Good,” Cassian says, voice just a little grated.

Nesta’s heart rate picks up a beat. She’s finally getting her reward.

“Now sit still and pretty while I rest,” he says, sinking even lower into the tub—and causing his cock to dig even deeper into Nesta. “This is a bath, not a splash pad.”

Nesta chokes. “What—I thought—”

“Hm?”

She presses her lips together tightly, refusing to protest. He can’t make her warm his cock like this forever, can he? Soon enough he’ll crack.

Four minutes in, and he doesn’t crack. While Nesta gets closer to crying by the second, she has yet to find evidence that he’s even aware of her presence. Her only proof is the fact that he’s still rock hard, occasionally twitching against the depths of her walls.

At five minutes in, Nesta can’t help it. She breaks, and her inner muscles clamp around Cassian with a viselike grip. She half-sobs in pain and relief, and her hips jerk of their own accord.

Cassian’s eyes fly open at that, the pupils blown wide, and Nesta has to catch herself on his chest to keep from crumbling. If she had half a working brain left, she would have noticed the trembling restraint that lines Cassian’s limbs, or the way his eyes burn with welling desire and even sympathy. Instead, she turns her face into his chest and begs weakly, “Pleasepleaseplease.” Her thighs keep shifting, rubbing back and forth to create friction, but she can’t give herself permission to move the way she truly needs until Cassian gives her permission.

Nesta feels Cassian’s broad hand come up to carefully brush her back. She nearly weeps with relief at the touch, but he doesn’t go any further. “What do you want, baby?” he says roughly.

“You,” she forces out. She doesn’t care if this is losing.

“Me, what?” He sounds like he’s about to lose, too.

“I want you to fuck me.” She’s nearly whimpering, trying not to squirm on his lap.

Cassian, the horrible bastard, has the nerve to snicker in her ear, though he sounds more than a little wrecked when he says, “Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

In a flash, he has Nesta pinned against the porcelain tub. And before she can decide whether to laugh or moan or cry at the turn of events, Cassian covers her mouth with his and thrusts into her, giving her everything she wants.

***

Hours later, after they’ve sated themselves on sex and food and Cassian is napping sprawled out across Nesta’s back, she receives a text from Azriel telling her he won’t be there to celebrate the rest of Cassian’s birthday.

Az: You two deserve the alone time. Also I didn’t get him a present.

Another text pops up before Nesta can reply.

Az: I did order a cake to be sent up to your room, though. Don’t worry, there’s not a picture of your boobs on it.

Nesta’s eyes widen at that, not knowing why—or how—that would be an option. But she completely forgot about getting cake in all the unexpected hassle of their vacation, and not for the first time is she grateful that Azriel came along with them on their trip.

Typing back a quick thank you, Nesta clicks her phone off and curls further into Cassian’s warmth. He shifts on top of her, hugging her closer, and a moment later she feels his nose poking at the crook of her neck. “Good morning,” he murmurs thickly, sleep coating his voice.

“It’s six p.m,” she snickers. The sun slipped behind the mountains just a few minutes ago, leaving the room a blue dark.

Cassian responds by slipping his hands under her oversized tee, rubbing the muscles along her back. “Where’s everyone else?” They haven’t seen Gwyn, Emerie, or Az in hours.

Nesta turns around in Cassian’s arms to face him. “Consider them gone. We’re by ourselves for the rest of the night.”

He perks up at that. “Really?”

A knock sounds from the penthouse door, and Nesta remembers Azriel’s text. She squirms out from under Cassian’s weight with some difficulty and stands off the bed. She points a stern finger at him. “Don’t move from here,” she orders. “I’ll be back.”

Cassian leans back, looking questioning and amused, but Nesta has already jammed her feet into slippers and left the room by then.

She accepts the covered platter from room service at the door and leaves a tip, before carrying the cake over to the coffee table in the living area and setting it down. Within ten minutes, she has an entire setup arranged: the fireplace is up and roaring, the fur throw she stole from Cassian’s couch to bring on vacation is spread out before it, and the cake candles are lit. The Italian dinner that she ordered earlier also arrives by then, and once everything is laid out, she calls for Cassian to come downstairs.

He’s fully dressed in a sweater and jeans when he appears at the top of the short set of stairs, and he looks so excited to see her that he doesn’t notice the cake or the dinner until he’s only a few steps away from her. Very slowly, his smile freezes. “What’s all this?”

“It’s your birthday,” Nesta says. “Duh.”

“But I thought we already celebrated,” he stumbles, looking around. “With the skiing, and the bathtub—”

Nesta makes a face. “You thought that was celebrating?” She shakes her head and beckons Cassian over to the fur throw, right before the table decked out with food.

He sits down beside Nesta, looking over her in nothing but her thin white shirt. “Are you cold? Do you want my sweater?”

She rolls her eyes as far back as they can go. “No, I want you to focus and make a wish before 6:27.”

“How do you know my birth time?”

“Will you do it or not?” she threatens. The candle wax is melting onto the cake.

Cassian stares at her for a moment longer before finally facing the cake. Closing his eyes, he mouths something unintelligible and blows the candles out.

Nesta claps softly. “Happy two years away from thirty. What did you wish for?” She leans closer.

He leans away. “It doesn’t come true if you go around announcing it.”

Nesta’s shoulders drop. “Wishes aren’t real, Cassian.”

“That’s what you say.” He swipes a dollop of chocolate frosting off the cake with his finger and holds it out to Nesta.

Smiling, she wraps her lips around his finger, scraping the chocolate off with her teeth and licking it clean. He sucks on the same finger when she’s done, chasing after her taste and the lingering frosting. “What do you want first?” he asks. “Dinner or dessert?”

“This.” Nesta pulls out a small box from under the table, placing it in front of Cassian. She didn’t have time to find wrapping paper or a bag, but she’s a bit proud of herself anyway.

Cassian once again looks taken by surprise. “You didn’t have to…” He trails off as he reaches for the box. It’s already obvious what it is, but he still opens it carefully, hesitantly.

He stares at the silver watch for a little while and then looks back up at Nesta. “I…” He clears his throat.

“What do you think?” In all honesty, Nesta already knows. But she needs to hear it from him.

He meets her eyes. “It’s so…normal. Do you know what I mean?”

It’s the type of gift that Nesta’s mother would have given to her father, the type of gift that wives would give to their husbands. Not necessarily original or thoughtful, but domestic.

“Since you like to spend your time thinking about taxes and minivans and stuff,” Nesta says, remembering their last conversation about the future, “I thought you’d like something normal.”

Cassian laughs at that. He takes the watch out of the box and turns it over in the firelight, still a little dumbstruck. “I love it,” he says roughly.

Nesta kicks him in the knee. “It’s a watch, not an engagement ring.”

But he doesn’t hear a word, already clasping it onto his wrist.

***

Their last day at the resort starts early with Gwyn, Emerie, and Az banging on the suite door at five in the morning. Though Cassian is already up by then, Nesta snarls and snaps like a bitch at being dragged out of bed to watch the sunrise.

With everyone’s bags packed and waiting at the door, they all gather on the balcony connected to the suite in content silence. Azriel nurses a thermos of coffee that he refuses to share with Cassian, and Nesta is wrapped up in that fur throw she loves, half-asleep against Emerie.

When the sky starts lightening, Cassian pulls Nesta away from Emerie and into his body. “You’re gonna miss it,” he murmurs onto the top of her head.

She blinks awake, looking out at the sky slowly being streaked with a dozen colors. From here, the view over the mountains and the quiet town some miles beneath the resort is breathtaking. Easily better than any sunrise Cassian could have shared with Nesta back home.

It’s beautiful, and in that moment he decides he wants to see even more beautiful places than this with Nesta. Someday.

“Pretty,” she yawns, tilting her head back against his chest. Cassian feels guilty for keeping her up so late the night before, but he’s not ashamed of how she rests in his arms right now.

After the sun climbs past the lowest peak, the group of them slowly but surely come more alive. Emerie asks Az to go inside with her and do a final check before they leave, and Nesta shakes both the blanket and Cassian’s arms off herself.

“Some coffee will wake you up,” he promises her, leaving her outside in the dewy morning air with a kiss on the temple.

When Cassian returns to the balcony with two freshly brewed cups, he finds Gwyn and Nesta in deep conversation. “I never apologized for crashing your weekend,” Gwyn is saying.

“You don’t need to,” Nesta responds, watching the world wake up below her.

“Still,” Gwyn says, chewing on the inside of her cheek. “I acted out of character, didn’t I?”

Nesta turns to her then, the sun haloing her face, and the look of understanding she wears makes Cassian take a step back inside.

“He does that to me,” Gwyn goes on, looking lost as ever. “I don’t know why he does that to me.”

“First love will do that to anyone,” Nesta says.

This isn’t a conversation Cassian should be overhearing, he realizes. Turning around with his coffees, he goes to find Emerie and Azriel instead.

In the living area, Emerie realizes at the last minute that she’s missing her phone charger. By the time she finds it, Nesta and Gwyn have rejoined the group.

Cassian hands Nesta her still-warm coffee with a warmer smile. “You ready to get out of here?”

“Hell yes, baby.” She slings an arm around his waist.

They barely make it to the resort lobby before Azriel and Gwyn start arguing over which route to take home.

“Why would you add an extra hour to your trip for no reason?” Azriel is saying.

“It’s none of your business!” Gwyn retorts.

“She’s scared of highways,” Emerie inserts.

While they bicker on the way to check out, Cassian finds Nesta’s hand and runs a finger down her palm. “Hey, Nes?”

“Hm?” She looks up at him.

He curls his fingers around hers. “Thank you for doing this.”

***

a/n: i cant keep posting chapters right before i sit down to cry in front of kdramas

tagging: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @wannawriteyouabook @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad @dontgetsalmonella @champanheandluxxury @togreblog @arinbelle @ladygabrielli1997 @meridainthedisneyland @moodymelanist @pixieelea

Silk ties to bind

Returning my C!Eret posts.

SMUT UNDERCUT! MINORS DNI!

It started as a passing joke that you would never be able to be seated in Eret's court, clothes too rough from your time spent in the forests of the server or just too dirty in general. As you spend hours on end mixing dyes and making messes that stain everything no matter how hard you try to keep things clean.

Only it seemed to make a soft chuckle pass from the monarch you spent so much time with, their demeanour shifting and the conversation dying away afterwards.

Days later it started, the clothes.

New clothes, robes, boots, shoes and even underthings in several colours were delivered to your home, each one fancier and fancier than the last. Deep colours that you know take ages to make framed in gold and silver threads, skirts that would barely cover anything held and decorated in chains, jewellery tucked away in small pouches, each piece fitting for one or more of the sets now showing up at your home.

There is only one person you know of with access to things like this, with the spare income to throw it away on someone else like this. Only there was no reason your mind could cook up as to why they would do this, was it cause of the joke you had made? Was this an invitation to visit the court? Or was this some sort of sick joke you weren't privy to?

Questions lingering and becoming less and less based on reality, thoughts spiralling out of control, finally coming to an end when a letter with the king's seal comes to your door. An invitation to court, with a small request for you to wear one of the items that had recently been delivered, even a cheeky nod towards the more...revealing items being more expected than the others.

On the day of the court, the castle seemed so quiet, attendants rushing away from the main hall rather than towards it, guards talking in hushed voices about this 'closed court', even on arrival things were off usually coats and cloaks were taken and you are ushered to the hall in use but not a single person had asked or moved to take yours when you arrived.

So when the massive doors to the hall open before you, seeing nothing but a small wall of mirrors and Eret is nothing short of jarring, the maid that escorted you gently pushing you in with a soft giggle before closing the door behind you.

"Eret? You. You wanna explain what's going on right now?"

The way they twirl when you speak up makes it clear despite the mirrors that they stood before they had not seen or heard you enter, too lost in their thoughts.

"Ahhh you're here! Come, come over here. And don't worry about anything, I'll explain in a bit."

Their hands are warm when they guide you over, just off from the mirrors sits a pile of blankets and pillows, like a makeshift bed or couch, a small bag sits off to the side tied shut but almost bursting at its seams from whatever has filled it. "Now let's have that cloak thank you, I want o see how you look in one of the things I sent you!" Their hands clap together before reaching for the clasp of the cloak hiding what you wore underneath.

"First I think I am owed an explanation on everything, then ill take my cloak off."

The huff and pout that comes from Eret is cute and ultimately childish but is enough to stop their hands that have started to fiddle with the clasp despite the way you have grasped their wrist. "Well, that's...easy. I just wanted to dress you up, have you dressed as you should be after all you are going to-" their voice stopping short before something passes over their face, "-You deserve to be dressed as well as I am, even if your not a court member, not yet."

The end of their sentence is whispered, their smile shaky and short before they are pouting once again, "Now please can you give me your cloak?"

"The whispering aside, what were you going to say at first the whole 'dressed as you should be'? Eret, you can tell me anything. Your dear to me, if you need me for something you can just ask."

It does pain you to watch them flinch slightly, one of your hands still keeping them from unclasping your cloak, the other reaching out only to be grabbed by their free hand and used to pull you closer. "Do you mean it? That if I needed you, you would help? That you would be willing to listen to whatever I was going to ask you?"

"Of course I do. Eret you were one of the first people to be kind to me, hell you were my first friend and are my dearest person to date. No matter what you could ask I would always be willing to listen."

If it wasn't for their glasses there is no doubt that you would be able to see the way their eyes flick down to where they have pulled you close, only to flick back to the clasp of your cloak. Yet all you do get to watch is as they bite at their lips before speaking.

"Then please just let me take the cloak, and. And sit down, please just. Please."

Letting go of their hands is easy and letting them take the embroidered cloth is much the same, only the way their head flicks down with their gaze is very clear, eyes lingering on the clothing you had chosen to wear. A dress that clearly shows off your shoulders and collarbones, the deep collar leaving most of your chest exposed before cinching at the waist with a belt, when you move to sit the slits of the skirt let your thighs peak through.

"Alright, what now?"

The way they drop behind you is slightly loud even with what you assume to be at least three pillows under them, watching them in the mirrors shows how their hands shake when they reach out, hands gentle when they reach around your shoulders, grasping your hands to pull you back into them.

The way the fabric moves when they do causes more skin to be exposed, their breath shaky and felt as they take in how they had dressed you, even if it was only through providing the clothes. "So beautiful..." bearly a whisper when they do speak, glasses slipping slightly down their nose when they lean forward head next to yours, brown curls tickling against your skin when they turn their head.

"Look at you. Dressed like the ruler you should be."

"Eret-"

"Shhh, so kind, so strong and so so deserving of the throne next to mine. Just look at us, how good you would look drapped in the finest of finery, covered in my gifts...my marks..."

Their voice is airy when they talk, words steadily becoming stronger and stronger, each one a declaration of how good they would be if you let them, if you took up space beside them, ruling with them, letting them keep you and be even more then what they are now.

"God, you don't know how long I've waited, hoped, wanted you to be mine. Next to me, letting me bury myself in you, leaving no doubt for others that you're mine."

White-eyes, catch yours in the mirrors when one of their hands stop you from looking away. "Please, Let me show you what it could look like. Please," it's without a thought that you nod, and when you do the hand that does not hold your face moves, using your hips to pull you further back into Eret's chest.

Settling into Eret's lap brings two things to light, one you are much smaller than the ruler of the SMP and two no matter how you shift or move the press of their cock is hard, a telling sign of how they need you. The first press of their lips to your neck makes your breath shake, and when its teeth and tongue leaving a trail of marks nothing is stopping the whimpers that leave your lips.

Your hands grasping the skirts that barely cover you, before they are taken, guided by Eret's to undo the clasps that hold your dress together, the top half falling away to expose your chest. One of your hands traces the marks that are already starting to bloom, eyes locked to the mirrors still trying to process what is happening.

For such a lieth person Eret is quick to flip the position, you under them as they move down placing open-mouthed kisses down your chest, your head tilted towards the mirrors by one of their hands, making you watch when their lips wrap around one of your nipples. Their other hand supporting you as you arch into the warm mouth laving over your skin, if not for the skirt still barely hanging from your hips, the press of Eret's cock into your sex would be so much stronger.

“God look at you. So perfect like this,”

Their hands are quick to pull your hips forward, pressing harder into you, letting you feel how badly they need you. Gentle fingers digging under your skirts to grasp at your hips and tease against your thighs, fingertips barely brushing against your sex, as you continue to watch your friend mouth their way down your chest proving with every swipe of their tongue that they are going to be so much more.

"Say you'll stay with me. Say you'll be mine and let me shower you with everything you could ask for. Say you won't leave."

"Eret, I-"

"Say. It." Their words are punctuated by two rough bites, teeth marks blooming against your skin as you arch into the feeling.

"I'll stay."

Your words are barely out of your mouth when they surge forward, lips crashing into yours, glasses hastily thrown into the mess surrounding you. The kiss is desperate and messy, like how Eret's hands roam across your body now that they know you won't leave them, and when they pull away their eyes are lidded and breathing just as heavy as yours had become.

It's not the first time you had seen their eyes, but it was the first time you had seen them so hungry. Watching as they flick across every mark they had left on you, taking the mess they had made of your skin before pressing in again capturing your lips before pulling you up and into their lap.

Hands pushing your skirts out of the way, using the grip they had on your hips to grind you down onto their cock, groaning into your mouth as they do. When you pull apart there is a slight sting, as Eret grips your underwear using strength well hidden in their slim frame to rip the material from your frame.

"You won't be needing those, not anymore. If I find you wearing them near me, I'll just take it as an invitation to rip them from you again..."

Long Fall Into Oblivion (Ezra x reader)

(header by sirtadcooper - check out the whole beautiful set here.)

Rating: Mature. 

Pairing: Ezra (post-Prospect film) x f!reader

Warnings: Non-explicit sex. Some swears maybe (think there’s a f*ck in there somewhere, my GOODNESS). A lot of gooey, syrupy, soft fluffety fluff. Author attempts at writing Ezra dialogue. A lot of chewy prose.

A/N: I can’t believe I’m posting this, but here goes. I love Ezra. He is a man of questionable morality and an insufferable tongue and I really shouldn’t. But I really do. I just wanted to give him a try. I’ve softened him up here, putting a few years on him so maybe he’s fluffed up some since the events in the film. Also I just ignored the fade or assumed that aurelac mining was still happening because scarcity/demand. Doesn’t matter. Just wanted to go exploring.

Summary: You take a job as an aurelac prospecting trainee and Ezra shows you the ropes. You’re gonna fall in love with him. That’s it. That’s the whole thing.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up here –> TAGLIST

MASTERLIST

________________

Bakhroma is one of the smallest gas giants in the sector, but as you stand on the surface of the Green Moon, it dominates the entire horizon, pulling your focus, threatening to engulf everything around it. You almost feel sorry for the lush moon as you walk through its undergrowth, so gentle and full of beauty, destined many years after you’re gone to give its life to her.

A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?

There’s a painful, sour ache in your heart as you walk back to the camp in twilight, watching the back of Ezra’s helmet bob along in front of you. You’d spent two days digging that claim only to find the weakest aurelac nest you’ve seen yet, only three viable nodes. You’d dug through one of them by accident and completely melted another like an incompetent fool. Kevva’s ass, you were such a disappointment. Three months in the Green and you still can’t cut a blister out properly. Not even once.

Ezra’s shoulders are wide and tense, his one hand splayed out as he walks, running over the tops of the tall ferns, catching one every now and then only to rip the top away, twirl it between his gloved fingers and toss it impatiently aside.

The other two members of your team headed out on a sling this morning, another two will be arriving in a few days. And you wonder if Ez regrets just not cutting his losses and leaving with them, or at least sending you back in exchange for another kip.

You think about shifting through the comm channels, hoping that he’s chattering away in one of them, switched without your knowledge, but it’s a lost cause. You can hear him breathing on the channel between you. It’s not often Ezra has nothing to say.

________________

You thought your father was leaving you an inheritance. It’s not the reason you took care of him through his illness, but you’d dropped everything to be back home with him through his final months. In a way, it was a blessing, a reason to quit the Dasha factory and the terrible working conditions there, come back home and focus on your dad, relive good memories, just spend time. The reconnection lifted your heart, but his death sank it low again. When you learned he had nothing to leave you but a small house and some old vehicles, you sold what you could and traded in the rest.

Then you had nothing. No family, no job, little savings, questionable future. It almost broke your spirit. But the last few months with your father rekindled your love of him as he told you about his years in the Fringe, mining and prospecting. And your heart had said, “what the hell, let’s try that.” So you listened.

It took some time to track down the right inroads, but you were able to find some ads for prospecting teams, in particular those who were willing to take on members in training for a re-distributed cut. With all provisions included--other than suit and gear, which your father’s inheritance neatly covered--it seemed like just as good of a deal as any, and an adventure to boot.

But the reality was, every team you met with was full of hardened men, and while you were not a soft Central woman, you also weren’t overly versed in weaponry and didn’t know if you could defend yourself out in the Fringe against attack if things got crusty.

You were just about ready to admit defeat when you walked into yet another conference bunker and found your match. The first thing you noticed was that he was standing when you arrived, waiting for you politely rather than manspread at the table. Second were his eyes. Deep, brown, and sad. Maybe sad was the wrong word, certainly it seemed by the lines in his face, possibly by the missing arm, that he’d seen enough sadness, but toward you, it read more as concern. You wouldn’t know it until later when he confessed his feelings about this first meeting, but he was worried you wouldn’t choose him. Ezra had a hell of a time hiring partners. He may have been one of the longest-working aurelac diggers out there, but young kippers saw his greying beard and seasoned diggers saw his lacking arm and they all tended to turn around and walk out before he even said hello. So he’d tried to put himself out there as a trainer, show that he had something more to offer.

It didn’t hurt his feelings when you admitted to him later that those qualities were exactly why you chose him. He seemed the opposite of threatening. And his eyes were bright when he smiled at you. With his thrumming baritone and his Fringe twang and his mixed deck of mosaic words, he had a way of speaking that felt like a fluffy blanket curling around you, your brain vibrating with comfort at every new monologue. He was eccentric and perhaps a little jarringly rough in his humor at times, but there was something about him that you trusted immediately, even though you’d come to learn later you probably shouldn’t have if you were being overly cautious.

Not that your judgement ever came to detriment. Not that he ever proved you wrong that way. Not when it came to you. But the man was dangerous when he had to be in a way you hadn’t initially picked up on.

________________

You hadn’t been out in the Green two weeks before you looked up from the bottom of a dig hole to see Ezra standing over you with a thrower.

“You get down and you stay down, understand?”

“Ez? What--”

“I said stay down! Do not make me waste words on mere repetition!” The fuzzy blanket of his voice replaced suddenly by a snarling, snapping brush wolf, a quick change hitting you like a slap in the ear.

There’d been pops and whizzes as shots rang through and you did as your trainer said, face down, the view of your visor giving you nothing but dirt. Your helmet was a chorus of quick breathing from both of you and sweat rolled down your neck as you begged the eyes of Kevva to look down upon your partner. When the crossfire faded, you’d heard Ezra stalk away. Then there were a couple more shots. Then more footsteps returning.

“You are permitted to stand, trinket. All is well as it can be for us. But not so much for our dearly departed friends.” These words were as soothing as much as his previous ones had burned, and he simply went back to working at the dig at hand as if he’d just come back from taking a leak. It wasn’t until you left the site that evening that you tramped past two rotting raiders, gaudily outfitted with broken face shields, left to let the Green take them.

Ezra whistled as he stepped over them, stopping only to harvest their filters and munition rods, which he tossed your way to stow in your pack, and then continued lazily down the path toward camp. Just another day on the job. 

He may be a little peculiar and not someone to trifle with, he may have just killed two people without remorse or further comment, but his lack of reassuring words told you that this was just part of the deal. You wear the suit, you use the air scrubber in the tent, you follow the landing pod instructions as written, and you defend yourself against those who wish to harm you. Survival by any and all means is paramount, mundane, and something he has no qualms with on any level.

There was something deep down inside of you that instinctually pulled you to follow him, not just down the literal path before you, but whatever path Ezra chose to wander.

________________

Before you’d left the station with him, he’d taken you to a thrower range to gauge your skill which was decent in theory, but dismal compared with what he could do. No matter, he still patiently taught you how to properly clean and charge a weapon and the best way to breathe and pull the trigger; “like you’re taking hold of a man’s...well... Just go easy and firm.” He suggested you should come and practice every day before lift off and then hope to Kevva that you didn’t have to rely too heavily on it.

“If I find myself in a coffin of my own suit, then feel free to defend yourself as a final means of preservation. Otherwise, when it comes down to shots fired, best to let me do the dirty work. Might as well keep the blood where the blood has been.”

You’d been a little nervous about sharing a freighter pod alone with him, but Ezra was...well, not so much a gentleman as just a comfortable soul. 

He always waited until you were hungry to eat, thinking it rude to eat alone in front of you. He never moved around the pod while you were sleeping, content to keep still with a book in his cot. And if you couldn’t sleep, he was always willing to read to you from whatever impossibly dense old world classic he was digging through for the umpteenth time, letting his voice come up from the deeps and pull you gently under. If you asked permission to turn on the radio, he’d ask you “why Isn’t it on yet, woman,” quietly tolerating your taste in harsh and gleeful babblecore pshcyopop. In the later days of the journey, he’d even come to dance with you from time to time, although both of you were dismal at it and ended up with you in a fit of giggles. It was a sure-fire way to cure a case of the pouts you carried through from the morning fitness sessions when he beat you at pushups. Again.

When it came to privacy in the tight space, he had a habit of turning away without having to be asked or stopping his stream of talk when you went to change clothes, just happily chattering away until you called the all clear. Although he was not squeamish about his own state of undress, should you happen to catch it by accident. While he was respectful of your privacy, he seemed to need none of his own, but neither did he flaunt anything. You might look up from studying the flight manual to notice he was changing into a fresh pair of compression pants, tugging them on haphazardly with one hand, more concerned with telling you the overwhelmingly disgusting manufacturing process of Bits Bars than his own ass hanging out where you might see it. At least he always changed facing away from you which was a kindness.

Until it wasn’t.

After you realized you’d fallen quietly in love with him--a sudden, soft moment on the Green--then you’d admit only privately to yourself that you wouldn’t mind if you accidentally saw a little more than the occasional shirtless attire he might wear around the tent.

But in the pod, the only part of him that had caught your curiosity was his stump, and you’d known Ezra intensely enough over the past couple of weeks where you knew he wouldn’t take offense. Especially if you asked him the right way.

“Will you tell me a story, Ezra?”

“I feel that it is my duty to do so whether you ask me to or not. Shall I choose, or is there something in particular you would like to hear?”

He was sitting cross-legged on the floor, propped up against his cot, going through his kit, cleaning his gear. You waited until he noticed your lack of answer and looked up to meet your eyes. When he saw that you had put your manual down and were focusing all your quiet attention on him, he stopped his busy work. 

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute. When he knows you seriously need something from him, that becomes his immediate main priority and all else can wait. It’s only gotten more intense since that day, but there is a trust that resides between you when you look into his eyes, gathering your words as he waits patiently every time to hear whatever you’re going to request of him. There’s always hope there in his big browns, always something specific he’s waiting for you to ask, and every day you get a little bit closer to understanding what it might be. But until then, any question is a welcome one, any query is met with his wish to provide.

“Will you tell me how you lost your arm?”

At first you thought you may have gone too far, that maybe you insulted him, as his eyebrows peaked together and he looked down at his hand. But then, “That is a tale that may cause you some consternation, trinket. The Green is dangerous and unforgiving, and there were times I may not have been a man worthy of fair opinion.”

“My father was a prospector, you know. I’ve heard stories. Have you ever killed anyone?”

He clicked his tongue and screwed up an eye, causing the thin white scar on his cheek to twist. Then he sighed and returned to your locked gaze. “To be honest, I have. Though I have never done so with pleasure, I have killed in defense and out of desperation, and it was out of dispatching a man in this way that I came to lose the second favorite of all my appendages.”

“Second favorite?”

“Well, it depends what you classify as a limb.” He huffed a small laugh, a spark in his eye, trying to diffuse the harsh subject in his own way.

His leaning into baseness never bothered you. There was something earthy about it, gritty and rough, but never lewd. You rewarded his crassness with a smile. “Do you plan on killing me out in the Green?”

“I would hope my murdering days are behind me, and if they are not, you would see me aim a thrower at everyone but you in the course of my spree. You are under my tutelage, and for that, I owe you a duty of care. That is my word by Kevva.”

“Then tell me the story. I like your stories. I promise not to judge now-Ezra by then-Ezra.”

A dimple formed on his cheek, a punctuation mark framing the approaching anecdote on his lips. “Then I will declare myself absolved of any sin heretofore and regale you with a clean and grateful heart.”

________________

You can see the tent through the trees and you realize with some horror that it’s just you and Ezra for the next few nights. If he’s angry with you, and this is how he is when he’s upset, the silence will be unbearable.

Even that little girl he helped out here years ago was probably more capable than you. You feel so lost in this moment, and it’s only made worse by his silence. You fumble with your communicator and hit the mute just in time to choke on a sob.

This isn’t like you. You’re not one to cry when things get rough. You hardly shed a tear when your father died. But the thought of that just brings another sob and as acting as your own psychologist you realize that you are experiencing some displaced sorrow, the odd need to please the leading male in your life, the one that’s walking ahead of you, away from you. If he’d just turn around and throw you his worn weary smile, if he’d just start up a conversation you’d know that there was hope for you, you’d know you didn’t give up everything to be here in a job you couldn’t hack.

You gotta stop this. Or it’s going to be an uncomfortable night.

Shake it off.

Once you enter the tent, the usual dance happens. Ezra reaches up to turn on the air scrubber and you unhook his filter tube from his helmet. When he turns to you, you pull open the zipper cover on his suit and start his zip for him before lifting his helmet up and off. He can pull the zip the rest of the way, but you generally pull the left collar down for him so he can get his arm out. He’s on his own from there as you turn to fuss with your own gear. 

________________

You remember it starting easily enough. He was telling you a story about the breeding habits of the Tokovian Musk Owl and you could see he was having trouble with his suit zipper, yanking at it and trying to look down at it even though it was under his chin and his helmet. Without another hand to keep the fabric taut, the zip didn’t want to release, so you simply batted his hand away and started it for him. He didn’t even stop his yammering, just threw in a “thank you” somewhere in between “could hear them screeching” and “for a fuck.” He’d right out asked you the day before if you wouldn’t mind disengaging the filter tube just because it was delicate and he didn’t want to mangle the expensive part trying to pop it out one-handed day after day. And while he could manage the helmet fine enough, his prominent nose thanked you for a smoother removal for sure. 

It wasn’t the only routine dance you’d concocted. 

There was the harness dance.

While dig days were excruciating, you always looked forward to helping him attach the harness for his prosthesis--a kind of rigid pole attached to a shovel so you didn’t have to do all the hard digging alone. There were a couple of straps that came around his torso with multiple latches and you’d come to really enjoy wrapping your arms around him to fit the straps on. Sure, you could do the job just as easily from behind, but if you embraced him at the front, he’d usually raise his arm and let it come to rest around your shoulders while you worked. If you let yourself dream, it would be easy to imagine that he might be pressing you into him just a little bit.

And there was the harvesting dance.

On a dig, you were the one to mix the fazer and Ezra did the pour. He fished the sack, you cut the cord. You sliced the outer casing and held it open while he did the extraction. And with the flesh-covered stone, he told you every time to “hold it like you love it” so he could cut away the slippery blister before cleaning the gemstone.

It was a beautiful harmony. And the only way it worked. Because once on every dig he urged you to do a solo extraction, and on every dig, you pierced the blister and lost that stone. And on every dig, he squeezed your shoulder and told you it was a wondrous try, that he was proud of you, and there would always be another turn. There was no sarcasm, no pity, just a warm smile and ceaseless optimism even though you just lost both of you thousands in pay.

These were the first touches, these shoulder squeezes that ran down your arm on the let-go. Sometimes he would just reach out and grab onto you like a pole to help himself up, or he might stumble off balance on uneven ground and without the counterweight of his right arm he’d throw his hand out onto you to steady himself. He wasn’t beyond lightly touching the small of your back to encourage you down a path or to take your next try at a gem pull. 

This was all part of something you’ve secretly named the left-handed-lover’s dance. Basically, that you keep on his left whenever you can in case he needs your help or has the inclination to reach for you. It started out as just trying to be a good partner. Then it became a passing hope that it was more than just a friendly bond. But you were both here to do a job. He was here to teach you to be an independent prospector and you were here to assist and learn. That was evident at the end of the day; once you were both in the tent and out of the suits he never touched you, never so much as bumped into you or grazed your hand in passing an item or clapped you on the arm after a good joke. 

But out in the field all zipped in and helmets on, there was nothing more natural than his gentle hand guiding you or reaching for your assistance, including the day you realized you loved him.

________________

Before you can turn away to strip off your own coverings, Ezra catches your arm, spinning your face into the light. You try to shake him off, not wanting him to catch your eyes puffy from crying and your cheeks still streaked with tears, but his grip is not so gentle now and he yanks you back around to his stormy glare, chin up, brows low. His intensity paralyzes you, rendering you unable to continue your struggle when he catches your eyes with his.

When Ezra gives you his attention, it is absolute.

His gaze travels back and forth between your eyes, waiting for an explanation, a minute so stringent it breaks you down, dissolves you into the tears you’d tried so hard to hide.

“I’m sorry, Ezra. I really am trying... I don’t know why I’m such a scuffer at this and I know it would only be right to release you from the contract and tell you to send me back but I don’t want you to, I really wanna stay, I really wanna learn and I’m so, so sorry.”

Your words have an immediate effect, softening him, pulling his glare into concern and wonder, his lips parting just the tiniest bit in surprise.

“This is the reason for your heavy mood? You think I am provoked by your proficiency in the field?” 

“I crusted up good today and it seems like you’re not happy about it. Just...know that it means so much to me that...I don’t wanna let you down.”

“Oh, trinket, no.” An incredulous huff jumps out of him and his grip on your arm loosens, becomes a splayed warm support behind your shoulder, moving in soothing patterns and you’re instantly relieved that your assumptions were wrong. “You have done no harm in my book. It is not an easy thing to deliver a gem of this ilk into the world unscathed. Your opportunities have been few and scattered and it takes many sticks before a lover becomes a lothario.” He knows the crass humor will make you laugh, knows what to say to lighten your heart, to get you to soften, and bring you into his intimate, conspiratorial mood. “To be perfectly honest, I am selfish to an unrighteous degree, for every gem you burn keeps me in value to you. A worthy sacrifice to guarantee you mightn’t be so quick in your need to fly away from me until your training’s complete.”

This causes a hitch in your breath as you see the welcome turn the conversation he’s taking and you follow the path he’s making for you. “I don’t want to leave you, Ez.”

A smile creeps up one side of his mouth. “Well then I am a happy man. A bargain is struck! Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

A moment hangs between you as he rubs his thumb in slow circles on your shoulder. There’s that look in his eye again, the one where he’s waiting for you to ask the question he wants to hear from you. So close now.

Still, you’re unsure. “I guess I’m lucky I found the one person who wants an incompetent partner.”

“No, I do not, nor is it what I have and I must express my objection to your self-debasement. This work is not for the shiny, and you have not once complained about taking on the meat of the digging or the crawl of my schedule.”  His hand comes to your helmet shield and he rakes his thumb across it as if he ached to wipe away one of your staleing tears. “Those bright eyes of yours got a penchant for spotting deposits more skillfully than I could ever manage and that’s not something that can be taught; that’s talent, girl. The blistering?” He shrugs. “Even I can’t manage that without the steady help of your fine hands. You may think that your blunders in education are causing us some financial ruin, but our fortunes are creamy. I assure you, we can afford it.”

That look is still there. He’s waiting. “There’s some ‘us’ and ‘we’ in there, Ez.” Your hands drift to his sides, taking fistfuls of his compression suit top, willing him closer.

The edges of his eyes take on the crinkle you’ve come to find so much comfort in. “So there is.”

You’re almost there. You know what he wants. “Why were you so quiet on the walk back?” 

“Because for the next few days we are alone here and I have a mind full of questions I do not know how to ask you.”

“Then let me go first.” A yearning happiness settles in his brown eyes; finally. Finally you’ve found out what it is he needs you to request of him. “If I take this helmet off, are you going to kiss me, Ez?”

His eyes close in contentment and he nods, “Yes. Yes, little jewel. Yes I am, that and more. I hope I have inferred correctly that it is your wish that I do so, because I am in free fall. I feel my orbit ending and my pull to you is complete.”

_______________

“A moon is an orbiting admirer, and what is an orbit but a long fall to oblivion?”

Speculating days were some of your favorite times, just wading through the brush and looking for the telltale signs and shoots of an underlying deposit. Sometimes you came upon nests of strange groundling insects or flowers that only grew in secret. There were treasures underfoot on this poisonous moon, but if you remembered to look up as well, you might find some dangerous beauties there too. 

On that day--the one where you finally understood your heart--you’d looked up to find that you were on a cliffside overlooking a valley, the canopy a million different hues of green, the gas giant looming over half the sky in a big pink and orange semi-circle. There was a fallen log that served as a perfect seat for the perfect view and you knew Ezra wouldn’t mind if you stole a few moments to sit and to take it in. It’s just the kind of thing he’d appreciate. And you were proven right when he came up behind you, putting a hand on your shoulder to steady himself as he swung one leg then the other over the log, finding a perch next to you, spouting pretty words through the channel link--soft and low--about moons and orbits and obilvions.

“That glowing beauty is Bakhroma. She is quiet and fierce, made up of the unfathomable and the unknowable, always within sight, but out of reach and untouchable unless one would trade the honor with great sacrifice. She reflects the light that is given to her with a patience that is heretofore untold. And the Green Moon upon which we ride follows where she goes like a lovesick fool, spinning around her in a heady kind of adoration, full of secret treasures buried deep down that will ultimately one day belong to her, falling incrementally over eons until he finally loses himself in her, all his glories gladly forfeit to her welcome and inevitable embrace. Alone but together, seemingly eternal, pulled as one by the laws of a mysterious universe.”

The void that came after those words was filled with the beating of your heart, and you were sure he could hear it through the channel.

When he’d landed there beside you, you’d registered how his hand slid off your shoulder, diagonally down across your back, coming to rest at your waist, his arm draped lightly around you. Natural. Easy. Everything was warm--the colors of the sky, the care with which he kept you close as if to better hear the honey sweetness in his prose, the fire burning in your lungs and neck.

Ezra probably didn’t know that you spoke a little Vayok.

Bakh being the Vayok word for adornment. Ornament, Gem. Roma was a modifier, a diminutive. Small. Dear.

Bakhroma. Sentimental bauble. A little jewel.

In other words, a trinket.

All you wanted to do was sit down to take in the view of an entire world for a few moments, but by the time Ezra took your hand and helped you to your feet, all you saw was him.

________________

The helmet is barely off before his lips are sealed to yours in a press of greed. Even if he can’t form words when he kisses you, he can’t help but express his deep relief in a heartbreaking moan. It’s a fight to release yourself from the suit when he keeps pulling you against him and every time you try to get some space between you to work the zipper, he chuckles into your mouth, enjoying the tease and the struggle. It’s simultaneously frustrating and thrilling and you give in for a few moments just to give him what he seems to want so desperately right now.

Ezra kisses like a man starved for air, long, hard, and full of need, peeling his lips away only to come back for another breath of you until his initial want is slaked and he slows, allows for more time between his taking, his mouth starting to mumble against yours, praising you with pet names, telling you how perfect you are to him, how long he’s “fought against my more dubious natures to respect your womanly virtues and take them only when you could see in me a man worth bestowing them on.”

You’re able to use his weakness for monologuing to turn around in his vice-like embrace, finally freeing yourself of the suit and he takes the opportunity to drawl more pretty words in your ear, warning you that “I’m afraid I have been enamored of you overly long and may be extra eager in my attentions. So you just say the word if you need a slow down, gentle one, and I will do my best to comply. Although I will admit it will be a difficult endeavor indeed as I feel I am entering your atmosphere and nothing might quell this burn but finding some drowning place to land.”

Your first impression of him was of a man whose age and temperament and body would not be able to overpower you.

Your first impression was wrong.

Of course, it helps that you are willing.

It doesn’t take long for him to strip you down, and then himself. To kiss you down onto the floor. To find exactly where you like to be touched most and how long it takes for you to break from it. He has so many words for you, so many praises to sing about every part of you that is round or soft or wet, comparing you to things that are sweet and plush or celestial and holy. And when you take his favorite limb in hand--as wondrous as the rest of his body--and guide it to its fit, he plunders and harvests all you have to give him, filing you with himself, for as long as you call for it, as long as you let him. He loves you like he speaks to you: rough and drawn out, full of beautiful tangents and meandering plotlines, but in the end it is beautiful and fulfilling; you may be just a little bit confused how you got to the ending, but you’re completely in awe.

When you lay breathing heavy, staring but not seeing the ceiling of the tent, your consciousness seemingly lifted to see through it to the stars, to the glowing face of Bakhroma, you run hands through rough-chopped hair on a head laying on your chest. He’s listening to your heartbeat, waiting for it to slow down so he can start again. The air is thick--even the air scrubber can’t keep up with all your humidity--and there’s a halo around each bulb of the string lights just barely illuminating the darkness.

“How long, Ez?”

“Hm?”

“How long have you been waiting for that.”

“Most likely since the day you walked into my interview. I am a man of simple wants and you had all the right parts for my preferences.”

“For real, Ez.”

He tipped his head up to find you. “What you ask has many true answers, and I stand by the first. I have no qualms telling you of my weakness for a pretty succulence and a kind smile the likes of which you possess. But if you are asking when I knew I would have it, well, that may have been the first day you danced. Or when you asked me to read you to sleep. Or when I understood I wouldn’t let those bastard raiders get near enough to take their turn at your qualities when I had not had them myself. Or when you finally saw me as a viable person to drape your affections on; maybe it was that day too.”

“When I finally saw you as....”

“I have read many tomes and verses but none so full of beautiful passages as your face that day on the cliff. There is a difference of knowing and being. I knew the feel of your pull that day, but found I’d been in orbit all along.”

How he can live this way, twist everything into a tossed away poem...it should be exhausting. Yet you feed off it. You breathe it like air.

After another long cycle of frenzied entanglement and violent euphoria, you ask Ezra if he’d like to move to a cot, maybe get some sleep. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to walk to the dig tomorrow morning,” you confess.

“No need to worry about tomorrow,” he says, wapping his arm around you and dragging you back to him, grumbling into your ear. “We are the only prospectors in this sector and the aurelac will wait. Until our new compatriots arrive, we are officially on hiatus. Recreational mining only. Restricted to the confines of this tent. By order of your supervisor. In the interest of more precious treasures. And I intend to strike it rich.”

“Well. I’m here to assist. And learn.”

“When it comes to this dig, trinket, you are more than competent. I am no longer your trainer. Partners it is.”

“Partners it is.”

The new contract is struck, signed and sealed in kissing and in touch and a long, slow fall into inevitable oblivion.

I Don’t Want a World Without You. Eren Jaeger x Reader

Request from @shittypaperwork

A/N: This took me forever to write this. I wanted it to be perfect. I really hope it is. Also, my asks are open for AOT smut (Disclaimer I do prefer to write in Canon Au but not opposed to writing Modern AU if I like the idea.) , Jujustu Kaisen smut. But please enjoy!!!!!!

WARNINGS: SMUT!!!, slight breading kink ig, name calling, slight Dom!Eren. Unprotected sex, Canon AU,

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

Your friendship with Eren was unlike any relationship you had experienced before. You both joined the Scouts after the attack on Wall Maria. You both bonded over the losses you both endured that day. Eren sought out revenge on the Titans. His hatred and rage fueled his desire to become a better soldier. You wanted a better understanding of the outside world. Why all the memories came fooling back in the middle of a titan ambush you had no idea why. A giant hand came out from the shadows of the forest directly aiming for you. You didn't have much time to react before Eren swooped in and grabbed you.

"(Y/N) you need to pay more attention," Eren said right before the titan grabbed the wire to his ODM gear causing him to fall to the ground several hundred feet below.

"Eren," you screamed out. Your heart pounding in your chest as you locked eyes with the titan. Suddenly, a red hot burning sensation rushed through your chest and up your face. Tears started to form in your eyes as you maneuvered around the giant trees. Finally finding a vantage point, you zipped over the titan and your blades cutting deep into its nape. It fell to the ground dust and debris flying above its lifeless body. The feeling still stuck in your chest, but it was different something lingered beneath the surface. You located Eren, and you looked at him the feeling became stronger as you watched him lay there, blood dripping from his head on the ground under him.

You were irrevocably in love with him.

There was no time to confess to him your newfound feelings. He needed to get the infirmary. The more you realized your feelings for him, the more you realized it would never work. This world was unfair and unforgiving. There was no room in the world for love let alone a relationship, or that's what you told yourself. The pain you would feel if Eren didn't reciprocate your feelings would tear you apart inside.

Two weeks had passed since the ambush in the forest and your feelings had remained the same, in fact, they had gotten stronger. Your whole squad had made it back alive, which you were grateful for. Eren was rushed to the infirmary due to his extensive injuries. You didn't sleep most nights so you would sneak down to see Eren. You held his hand and changed out his bandages being very careful not to wake him.

"(y/n), you have to let him rest," quickly turning around you saw Armin standing in the doorway.

"It's my fault this happened," the tears started to swell up in your eyes. Armin grabs your hand leads you outside.

"B-but Eren," you stammer looking back at him.

"He's going to be fine while you're gone". You looked up at the night sky, gazing at the stars above you. It was late, you didn't realize until now. How long have you been sitting by Eren? An hour? Maybe five. A cool breeze hits your face as you sit down beside Armin on the bench just outside the infirmary.

"You're so concerned about Eren. If I didn't know any better I'd say you're acting like Mikasa," he laughs. You chuckle slightly. You had been so wrapped up in making sure that Eren was okay that you had forgotten what it feels like to relax. Memories of you and Eren flood your mind.

"Armin there's something I need to tell you. I can only trust you with this information," the blonde turns to look at you.

" I'm in love with Eren". Armin's face gets all red and he turns away.

"So why are you feeling me this? Shouldn't you be telling Eren?"

"Because it would never work out the way I want".

Eren was finally recovered enough to leave the infirmary, but he was strictly prohibited from any training, missions, and extraneous activities. You have been avoiding him for days, unable to come to terms with your feelings you thought it best to stay away.

"You're eventually going to have to tell him you can hide from your feelings forever," Armin said to you quietly.

"Shut up, Armin," you punched his shoulder just a little too rough. He winches in pain, and you touch his arm.

"Sorry." You start to blabber about how you're used to hitting Eren because he can take a hit. You didn't realize Armin was trying to tell you that Eren was right behind you. A slight punch suddenly hits the middle of your back causing you to fall forward into Armin's chest. You turn around quickly to see you hit you. Your eyes lock with Eren's, trying to speak, but nothing comes out of your mouth. His green eyes peer into yours. It feels like your entire being is melting into the palm of his hand.

"Shouldn't you be picking on someone your own size," Eren smirks at you.

"Uhhh," you fumble your words trying to form a comprehensible sentence but fail.

"I gotta go!" You said quickly as you darted off somewhere far away from Erin and Armin.

Finally catching your breath you stood in front of the shower house you are reminded of a prank you pulled on Eren just a few months ago.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a long day of combat training and Eren was the first to use the shower, like always. Connie dared you to sneak into the men's showers and take Eren's clothes and hide them in a nearby bush.

"Easy! You should come up with a harder one next time," you smirked knowing this was going to be way simple. Quietly you snuck in being extremely careful not to slam any doors. You glanced around trying to find Eren's clothes, the steam from the showers making it hard to see. Stumbling into one of the benches close to the showers.

"Fuck that hurt."

"Hello? Who's there?" You heard Eren call out. Your heartbeat quickened as you heard the water turn off.

shit shit shit where are they?

Finally, you found the clothes tucked away under the bench. You guessed this isn't the first time this happened to him. You balled up his clothes and ran out. The steam made your hair stick to your forehead as you threw his clothes in a bush.

"Nice going (y/n)!" Connie gave you a high-five. Both of you waited for Eren to realize his clothes were missing, but to both of your surprises, Eren walked out of the showers butt-ass naked with only one of his hands covering his goods. Your jaw dropped at the sight of him the sunlight made his wet skin glisten. He shook out his hair causing water droplets to scatter around him. You followed the water as it dripped down his toned chest and pass his carefully carved abs. Your eyes followed the v line just below his abs.

"My eyes are up here! Now, where did you put my clothes, darling?" Eren steps closer to you feeling the heat radiate off him from his shower. Your mouth stayed agape and all you could do was point over to the bush. He made his way over not bothering to cover his ass.

"Well, that was fun," Eren chuckled as he pulled up his pants and let them sit on his hips unbuttoned.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Wetness started to pool in between your thighs, causing you to blush from the intrusive thoughts of Eren. You looked around to make sure no one would follow you. After stepping into the shower, you took your clothes off, and neatly folded them, and placed them on the bench. You pulled the curtain closed in hopes of having a sliver of privacy. The cold water rushed over your body and hair. Your nipples became hard as the cold water ran over them. Your mind began to imagine Eren behind you and what his hands would feel like as he rubbed your shoulders and softly caressing your breasts. Maybe he would snake one of his hands down your waist and tease your folds as the other would grip your neck pulling you back into his bare chest.

"Mmm. Eren," you moaned teasing yourself closer and closer to orgasm. Your finger moved faster in circles around your clit. A tightness started building up in your core and just about as you were going to come undone the door to showers swung open. FUCK! Disappointed in your attempt to relieve some stress you quickly got dressed.

"Hey (y/n)," Sasha greeted you, but you bolted past her "okay, bye!"

You didn't want to be rude to Sasha, but you had other things on your mind. All of them were Eren. Your body ached for his. You wondered want it would feel like on top of yours. Your mind kept racing all these thoughts about him and what he looked like under his clothes.

"(Y/N)! Instead of daydreaming why don't you help in the kitchen?" You were quickly drawn away from your thoughts as Levi approached you.

"Sorry Captain, I-" you tried to explain yourself before Levi shut you down.

"You're almost as bad as Eren." Eren? You clung to his name.

"What's wrong with Eren?" You ask.

"Well, since he's been released from the infirmary he's been zoning out. But enough chit-chat go help get dinner ready."

You made your way to the kitchen. Both Connie and Sasha were slacking off and having a baguette battle.

"Guys, let's do what needs to be done. I'm tired and want to go to sleep." You announce. It took about an hour to get prepped and cooked. By the time you were done cooking, you wanted to go to your room and finish what you couldn't in the showers.

After finally arriving at your room. You quickly shut your door. The rooms weren't big, but none the less you were grateful to have your own after spending a year in the barracks. The rooms were massive, but they were a decent size for one person. A desk with a wooden chair sat in the far corner and a closet just big enough to hold a few scout uniforms and a full-size bed. Still, a layer of dust covered everything although you didn't mind. It wasn't like you were going to be staying in your room all day.

You rubbed your eyes and sat at the edge of your bed, taking off your boots and jacket, neatly putting them away in the closet. You always hated taking off your harness there were so many buckles and straps, you got confused so easily. The only light to work with was an oil lamp fixed to the wall. You sighed heavily as you finished folding up your clothes and getting into your pajamas.

As you laid down in your bed thoughts of Eren came back to you. Softly you moaned as you pawed at your breast and teased your nipple. Woefully imagining it was Eren's instead of yours. You felt a wetness start to pool between your legs. Slipping your hands down your shorts your finger circled your clit. You were a virgin, but you still knew what happened you just never found anyone worthy enough. Expect for Eren.

You moaned as you came closer and closer to climax, but it was cut short again. "(Y/N)..." You had sworn you heard someone moan your name. Quickly you pulled your covers over your body as you listen to the room next to you and you heard it again. You were sure someone was moaning your name. In the room next to yours you heard the bed squeak as someone got up from it. Your heart beated faster as you heard footsteps approached your door. You closed your eyes and pretended to be asleep. The door to your room slowly creaked open. "(Y/N)... Are you awake?" It was Eren. You still didn't open your eyes as the door shut and Eren sat on the edge of your bed. He took your hand and held it and pressed it to his chest.

"I know you're asleep but I wanted to tell you, thank you for saving me, I know everyone told you to leave me but you didn't and I'm grateful. I don't know why you've been avoiding me, but I probably deserve it somehow." You heard his voice crack and you could tell he was about to cry.

"I just don't know how to tell you this but here does nothing, I love you (Y/N)." You opened your eyes and saw Eren crying.

"I love you too." You said sitting up in your bed. Your hands cupped his cheeks and pulled him in for a kiss. His lips were soft and perfectly fit in between yours. It was sweet and soft but your core ached for him. He pulled you onto his lap and brushed your hair behind your ear.

"I can't tell you how many nights I wished for this, to be here with you." Eren buried his face into your chest.

"You don't have to wish anymore," you told him as you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him again this time softly biting on his lower lips. He moaned into the kiss sending chills down your spine. He gripped your hips, his callused fingers dug into your sides almost as if he was scared you were fall through his hands if he didn't hold you tight enough.

Your hips ground into his causing a deep moan to escape from his lips. His erection grew quickly underneath you. Eren flipped you over on your back onto the mattress. He stood up and began removing his shirt. Your eyes followed the skin on his stomach as more of it was exposed. Moonlight peaked in through the window, shining on his torso. It was beautiful, hours and hours of training had paid off.

"My eyes are up here, darling" he chuckled as he climbed on top of you. You couldn't help but feel his chest and abs. His piercing green eyes looked into yours. His lips crashed into yours, it was sloppy and wet and hot. Your clothes limited his access to your perfect body. He slowly took off your shirt and kissed up your stomach and in between your breasts before he took one in each hand and massaged them. His thumb rubbing your nipples before he took it in his mouth and circled it with his tongue. Your fingers ran through his hair as you leaned your head back and moaned. He made his way up to your neck kissing and sucking on it. You knew for sure there was going to be a hickey tomorrow but you didn't care. You wanted everyone to know that you were Eren's and that he was yours too.

"Eren, I need you." You begged him to touch you. He leaned back on his calves and pulled your legs up to his chest, slowly removing your shorts.

"You're so wet for me already, have you been expecting me?" He chuckled and smirked as he pushed your legs apart. His hot breath hit your folds making you beg for him even more.

"Please please Eren!" Your cries for his touch were desperate. Him seeing how much you needed him turned him on. He was throbbing in his jeans. His finger slid up your folds and collected your wetness before he put it in his mouth and sucked on his finger.

"Open your mouth," he commanded and you did as he stuck his finger in your mouth. "Suck." His voice was deep and demanding making you want him even more. Your tongue danced around his finger you tasted yourself on his finger. His mouth attached itself to your clit and you threw your head back moaning. His tongue circling your clit making you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning too loud. Your hands found their way to his beautiful brawn locks, your fingers entangled themselves pulling slightly. Eren groaned and gripped your thighs tighter, maybe enough to leave bruises. The idea of having Eren's fingerprints lingering on your skin turned you on even more.

Eren's erection grew harder and slightly painful. He stood up from the bed and a whine came from your mouth in protest.

"Don't worry we aren't done yet. Do you know how much my hand hurts by now? I'm so glad you accepted my feelings so I can fuck you now."

"All you had to do was ask" you teased back at him "but you should know I'm a virgin." You weren't shy about it, it was just how you were.

"Well, I am too, if that makes you feel better." You sat up on your knees and began to undo Eren's pants. You could hear his moan that he held back. Your fingers slipped between his skin and underwear slowly teasing it down before releasing the waistband and having it snap back to his skin. A low hiss rolled out of his mouth as he smirked at you and his eye went darker with lust.

In a fit of lust Eren quickly removed his pants and pulled his cock out. Your eyes widen at the sight, you always thought Eren was big but never this big.

"Suck now." His tone cold and demanding. You took it in one hand and started to suck on the tip of his cock. You could taste the precum from the tip. His hand placed at the back of your head slowly pushing you further and further down. Your hands gripped his thighs as he drove his cock deeper into your face. You looked up at him, he looked so hot his eyes were rolled back and beautiful moans escaped his mouth.

"Ahhh fuck (Y/N) your so warm. I'm so close, will you be a good girl and swallow for me?" He looked down, locking his eyes with yours, you nod.

"Mmmm that's my girl." He continued to fuck your face, his hands cupping your checks. A warm salty liquid flowed into your mouth. You swallowed it and sucked the rest off his cock before opening your math to show him.

"Fuck... You're such a good slut for me." He crawled on top of you. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he kissed your stomach right below your navel. He slowly slid two fingers inside of you making you arch your back and grip the sheets. He took his time moving his fingers in and out of you taking care to make sure you never felt any pain.

"More Eren, please..." you begged for him, bringing him closer for a kiss. He lined himself up at your entrance wetting his tip on your folds. He steadied himself by placing his hand next to your head. He looked into your eyes. "Ready, darling?" You nodded. He slowly pushed his tip in both of you letting out moans of each other's names. You momentarily adjusted to his size before he added another inch. You wrapped your legs around his hips allowing him to fully enter you.

"Oh fuck, you're so tight I could cum right now," Eren moaned into your chest. Your breath was heavy as you fully adjusted to his massive size. Eren pressed his forehead to yours as he thrust in and out of you at a good pace. You moaned and softly bit into his shoulder careful not to hurt him and activate his Titan.

His thrust because faster and faster. You moaned his name over and over again. Sweat started to drip from his forehead, you could tell he was holding back his orgasm. The tip of his cock hitting your cervix. Eren let out a chuckle.

"What's so funny?" You asked.

"I can it inside you. Look." You glanced at your stomach and saw the tip pressing the skin up. "Fuck I can't wait to fill you up with my seed." He pounded harder into you as your orgasm started to build.

"Eren I'm getting close," you mewled in his ear. His thrust becomes sloppy as his thumb played with clit and that sent you over the edge. Eren watched as your body twitched underneath him. It felt like your entire body was on ice and fire at the same time. Eren was not long after you as he slammed one last time into you and let out the most beautiful moan you ever heard.

"Ahhh fuckkkkk (Y/N). You were such a good girl for me." He pulled out and laid down next to you pulling you close to him.

"I love you. I always have. I don't care if this world is unfair and unforgiving. A world that doesn't have you isn't where I want to be." You pressed your face into his chest and slowly fell asleep.

The Cottage (Just Friends Part 4) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 3825

READ PREVIOUS PARTS HERE

Last night, Cillian stayed at your house. He had a sleepover, which was a rare occurrence. Even more so was the fact that you didn’t actually sleep with each other that night.

‘Good Morning Sleepyhead’ Cillian said as you stumbled out of the bedroom and into the kitchen.

‘Why do you always get up so early?’ you asked, as he handed you a cup of coffee.

‘Habit I suppose. Did you sleep alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Good’ he said, before leaning in to kiss you. His lips tasted like coffee and you certainly didn’t expect the kiss. In fact, you didn’t expect anything that happened last night either, the gentle kisses, massages and curling up together in bed. There was intimacy but yet there was no sex.

‘I think I should go home now and pack some clothes. It’s a three-hour drive to Kerry. I will pick you up in an hour and we leave?’ Cillian said after your lips drifted apart.

‘Alright’ you said. You were excited to spend the entire weekend with Cillian even though you knew that you really should talk with him about your feelings.

As Cillian left you quickly had a shower and packed some clothes. You knew he would return on time. In fact, he had never been late since the day you’ve met. He was a punctual man.

The drive to Kerry was nice and very scenic. Cillian played some interesting music on the way there and you chatted a lot about your kids, holidays you’ve been on and plans for the future.

After a three-hour and very entertaining drive, Cillian pulled up in front of a small cottage surrounded by beautiful green bushlands. It was almost like in a movie, built out of grey bricks and with a dark brown roof.

Fire wood was stacked up against the front wall of the house and someone was clearly maintaining the garden when Cillian wasn’t there. The garden was perfectly manicured, with flowers and bushes of rosemary and other herbs.

‘The boys love to come here and visit the lake nearby, going fishing and stuff’ Cillian said as he opened the door to the cottage.

‘Wow, this is really nice Cillian’ you said as the fireplace in the living room caught your eye.

‘I wish we would have better weather, but I think that, regardless of the rain, a bit of nature will help you relax after your shit week’ Cillian said as it was already bucketing rain.

While Cillian carried your two small bags inside, you looked around the house. It had two bedrooms. One room had a wooden bunk bed and lots of toys and books. The other room had a large double bed with white sheets and a large crochet blanket. It was simple, but beautiful.

The living room had a large corner lounge with several blankets and books in the shelf next to it. There also was a record player and TV and the most beautiful fireplace you had ever seen.

The bathroom had a large bathtub and amazing views of the bushlands. You could certainly understand why Cillian loved it here.

While you were unpacking your bags, the rain slowly died down and Cillian suggested that you go for a walk together before it starts raining again.

You were keen to try out the bed instead, but agreed. A walk would do you good and there was always time for some intimacy later. After all, you had the entire weekend together.

You put on your warm jacket and boots and followed Cillian’s lead into the bushlands. He knew the area well and it was absolutely stunning.

You never smelled air as clean as this. It smelled like moss and wet leaves.

‘So what do you think?’ Cillian asked as you walked through the bushland, following a small track with several lookouts.

‘It’s beautiful here, thank you for taking me’ you said, pausing for a minute to take in the views.

‘You are welcome’ Cillian said before leaning in to kiss you. The kiss was gentle but yet passionate.

After your lips drifted apart, you smiled at each other and he took your hand into his before you continued with your walk.

‘Your hands a pretty cold, do you want to turn around?’ Cillian asked as he could tell that you were freezing.

You nodded and you slowly made your way back to the cottage.

On your way back to the cottage, you could feel the wind picking up and, halfway back, it began to rain again.

‘Are you alright?’ Cillian asked as he noticed you shivering as your clothes got wetter and wetter by the minute.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said as you smiled at Cillian. He looked cute with wet hair from the rain.

By the time you arrived at the cottage, you were both absolutely drenched. Your clothes and shoes were wet and your hair was a mess.

You put your shoes and jackets into the corridor to let them dry off while Cillian grabbed a big blanket from the shelf next to the lounge.

‘Common’ he said as he wrapped the blanket around you and you sat down on the lounge.

‘I will get this fireplace going and run you a bath, alright?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘The bathtub is big enough for the both of us’ you said suggestively and Cillian agreed to join you.

While Cillian was grabbing some more wood from outside, you made your way into the bathroom and stripped off your clothes.

You were freezing cold and couldn’t wait to climb into the bathtub.

Within seconds, you sank down into the almost scorching water, wincing slightly, before sighing as your body got used to the warmth. You leaned your head backwards, closing your eyes, loving how the hot water relaxed your muscles.

It wasn’t long until you heard Cillian enter the bathroom.

As he stripped off his clothes entirely, you moved forward, making some space for him behind you.

This was the first time you had a bath together and you were excited about it.

Cillian climbed into the bathtub behind you and moved your long hair to one side before gently giving you a kiss on your neck as he sat down.

‘Lean back’ he said as he wrapped his arms around you and you leaned the side of your face against his chest.

You turned your neck slightly, facing him halfway to exchange a passionate kiss.

‘I am enjoying this Cillian’ you said as you could feel his warm and damp skin against yours.

‘So am I Y/N’ Cillian said, as suddenly, you felt a pair of hands run up your thighs, coming to a stop at your hips.

‘You are so beautiful’ he whispered as he touched your body, causing the desire to build up in between your legs almost instantly.

You loved every second of it and you loved feeling his warmth.

Cillian was kissing and gently biting your neck as his hands ran up and down your legs, causing you to close your eyes and purring at his touch.

‘Cillian, you know I love…’ you said, but didn’t continue your sentence.

‘You love?’ Cillian asked, as he slowly let a finger run down your slit, before going back up again, slowly.

‘I love feeling your touch’ you said quickly and bit your tongue.

‘Good, because I love touching you’ Cillian chuckled before he slowly began to circle your clit.

You raised your legs, putting your feet over the porcelain of the tub in order to give him better access and moaned, arching your back as he picked up the pace.

Your breathing sped up quickly with Cillian’s fingers rubbing your clit and his lips kissing your neck at the same time.

Beneath you, could feel his erection growing, poking into your back.

As your breathing sped up, your chest heaved up and down, your nipples raising from beneath the warm water, up into the colder air, and back down and up. The change in temperature made your nipples harden, and sent almost painful charges of lightning down into your clit.

As if this wasn’t enough, Cillian carefully slid two fingers into you as he continued his attack on your clit, causing you to let out a loud moan.

‘Oh my god, don’t stop’ you moaned as his arms, which were wrapped around you in order to access your mound, spread your legs apart wider while pushing your body harder into his chest.

There was no way that you could move and escape the intensity of your approaching orgasm.

‘Oh my god’ you moaned as you clinged your hands onto the edge of the bathtub as your whole body trembled and your orgasm washed over you.

A breathless chuckle appeared just beside your ear, and you shivered, triggering a few more clenches.

‘Are you okay?’ Cillian murmured, and you nodded slowly.

‘More than okay’ you answered.

Releasing your hold and sliding your legs back down into the water, you sat up a bit more straight.

‘I love watching you like this’ Cillian said, before observing that the water was getting rather cold.

‘Should we continue this in the living room?’ you asked, knowing that the fireplace would have heated up the area by now.

‘Sounds like a plan’ Cillian said as he stepped out of the bath.

After he dried himself off, he wrapped the towel around him and went into the living room while you were getting out of the bath.

Once you finally made your way to the living room, completely naked, you noticed a couple of blankets and pillows right in front of the fireplace.

‘Now that is very romantic’ you smirked, walking over to Cillian and kiss him.

‘That’s the way I roll’ Cillian said jokingly.

‘It’s just missing the music now’ you said as you walked over to the wooden box with the records.

You didn’t know most of the albums and asked Cillian to choose while you lied down in front of the fireplace. Cillian didn’t hesitate and chose a record. It was nice, slow and romantic, a mix of indie and jazz. The perfect choice with the fire crackling in the background and the raindrops running down the window.

Cillian was powerless to resist you as you were leaning against the pillows, inviting him to join you with a hint of your naked curves highlighted by the flames.

Cillian let his towel drop to the floor and lied next to you, pressing his lips onto yours passionately.

You slid up next to him, pressing yourself tight against his naked body as he wrapped an arm around you, feeling your fire-warmed skin against his own.

His hands began exploring your smooth stomach, slowly gliding his fingers up your body, while you were grinding yourself against him, feeling his erection against your wet folds.

Cillian’s hand crept even higher, coming up to slip across your breasts.

As he brushed along your nipples, you let out a soft gasp. He was taking it slow and you took it all in.

As much as you've been wanting to tease him and feel him inside of you, you enjoyed this slow romance he was offering you.

As you were feeling fingers begin to dance across your nipples, his hard, throbbing cock continued to press against you and you couldn’t help but get excited, a flood of wetness growing between your legs.

Cillian began to lean down and place soft, passionate kisses along your bare shoulder. Working his way from your arm, along your collarbone, slowly up your neck, his lips continued to explore your delicious skin.

Your head tilted up to make room for his mouth getting higher up your neck until he finally met your mouth, letting his tongue dance with yours.

There was a lustful connection between you as kissed passionately and his grip tightened, holding you close.

While your tongues explored each other's mouths, your hands were exploring each other's bodies.

One of Cillian’s hands soon returned to the wetness building up in between your legs, causing a loud moan to escape you as he brushed against your sensitive clit.

It wasn’t long until his fingers slid lower, parting your wet slit as they go, coating themselves with your sweet juices. Slick and wet, they easily glide along, beginning to explore every part of your sensitive pussy, hovering around your hole as they move up and down your gaping lips.

Cillian’s other fingers began to swirl around your hardened nipples, sweeping across them to give them a quick pinch every now and again. As you let out another moan, he took advantage of your open mouth and suck your bottom lip into his mouth gently, biting it as he tugged on you with my teeth before letting it slip away.

Looking down at you with a devious smirk, he slipped two of his fingers inside your wet pussy. Your eyes widened as you gasped from the pleasurable shock rippling through you.

With his fingers deep inside you, you felt them begin to slowly work back and forth, a slight curve making them touch the most sensitive parts inside you. Your gasp quickly turned to a low moan and you looked at Cillian with fiery desire, pulling him back to your lips so you can taste him once more as his fingers rock in and out of your wet pussy.

The pulses of ecstasy coming from Cillian’s fingers inside you began to make you want to lose control. You couldn’t help it and your hips began to gyrate against his hand, your body craving more of his touch.

Cillian pulled away from your mouth and began to plant a kisses down your chin, your throat and your shoulder.

Running down your chest, his mouth found your perky breasts and took one of your nipples in between his lips, swirling his tongue around it. He loved your breasts. They were small, but they were firm and soft at the same time.

You moaned as he devoured you, relishing the feeling of his mouth upon your nipple and his fingers inside your dripping pussy.

While Cillian was pleasing you, you reached your hand in between you both and took hold of his thick shaft, feeling him throb in your grip.

‘I need you inside me’ you breathlessly demanded while looking at Cillian with lust filled eyes. His eyes brightened, seeing the hunger inside you.

Cillian pulled away from you, guiding you onto your back which was supported by the soft pillows he had placed upon the blankets earlier.

He hoovered over you and positioned himself in between your legs as you starred into his amazing blue eyes.

As you began to exchange a passionate kiss, you reached in between you and Cillian taking hold of his hard cock again.

As you spread your legs widely, you guided him towards your entrance, causing the tip of his hard cock press against your waiting, ready hole.

You felt him slowly and easily push inside you, causing you to arch your back against him, savouring the feeling of him finally filling you.

You moaned with desire as his cock kept going and going until you felt his balls press tight against you. His entire length was deep inside you.

Cillian pulsed his cock against your tight grip before slowly sliding his shaft out once more. Just before the head slipped out, he pushed himself back in. Over and over, in and out, slowly letting you feel every inch of him.

You arched your back even further, exposing your neck, luring his mouth to place gentle bites across it. You let out a wail of delight feeling Cillian’s teeth and tongue on you. The sliver of pain from the small bites sent shivers through you to mix with the pleasure erupting from between your legs. You were certain that you would have bruises on your neck tomorrow once again, but you didn’t mind.

As Cillian thrusted in and out of you gently, he could feel you squirm against him.

He let out a low growl against your skin before he looked you in the eyes, glimpsing at that want and that need for him.

After several more minutes, Cillian pushed one of the blankets out of the way and flipped around, pulling you with him. You were now on top of him and, in an instant, his cock was back inside you as you lowered yourself down onto his shaft.

‘God you are beautiful’ he said as his eyes gazed over your body and face, the fire reflecting on your skin.

Him saying this sent shivers across your skin. You loved to be complimented by him.

After starring into each other’s eyes, full of lust and desire, Cillian pulled you down to his lips, slipping his tongue into your mouth in a passionate kiss.

His hands reached back to your ass and, with a firm grip, he began guiding you up and down on his throbbing cock.

It wasn’t long until you broke away from lips to gasp for air as you began to bounce faster and faster.

Cillian was pushing up against you and eagerly began kissing and nibbling at every part of you. Your throat, your shoulders, your chest. As he reached your breasts, you let out a gasp at the feeling of his warm tongue flicking across your nipple.

Now sitting up, with your legs being wrapped around him, Cillian pulled your hair back slightly and gently. His mouth was slightly open as he inhaled the beautiful smell of yours skin.

You have never felt as close to him as in this moment. It was intense and your bodies were literally wrapped up into each other as you were making love.

Your hands held onto his back and hair tightly and he did the same with you as the thrusts continued. You moved in sync with each other and moaned together, primal roars overtaking the roar of the fireplace reflecting flames against your glistening bodies.

You were locked together, combined as a single being of pure pleasure. There is nothing else but your two bodies rocking against each other.

The heat inside you swelled fast as an orgasmic rush of ecstasy was tearing through your body.

You clenched your thighs around him, your fingers digging into his back.

‘Cillian, fuck’ you screamed as your climax peaked and your pussy quivered around his cock as your second orgasm washed over you.

The sounds you were making and the contractions around his cock sent Cillian over the edge also.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned as his shaft throbbed and pulsed inside you, shooting thick warm ropes of cum deep into you.

You continued to thrust against each other as you cum together in synced bliss, letting go over everything as you both rode out your peak.

With your orgasms finally subsiding, you exchanged a passionate kisses, then smiling at each other with hungry eyes.

‘I never had sex as good with anyone’ you said as you untangled yourself from Cillian. As he slipped out of you, you could feel both of your juices leak from you.

‘Neither have I. You are amazing Y/N’ he said with a smile before he collapsed onto the pillows behind him.

You lied down beside him, tugging the blanket back over your naked bodies before Cillian wrapped you up in his arms.

He kissed your bare skin over and over, tilting your head to meet your eyes and giving you a quick playful kiss.

‘Y/N?’ Cillian said as he looked at you, into your beautiful eyes.

‘Yes, Cillian?’ you said with a big smile. His company made you truly happy and comfortable.

‘I think I am falling for you. I know it’s wrong and we agreed on no strings attached but when I’ve heard about you going on a date with someone else I felt, well, jealous I suppose and that’s when I realised…’ Cillian said and, before he could continue, you asked the all important question.

‘When you say falling for me, do you mean you are falling in love with me?’ you asked, your heart dropping and a warm feeling rushing over you.

‘Yes, I suppose I am in love with you’ Cillian said. You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

‘You suppose?’ you asked with a slight worry creeping in.

‘Yes, because I don’t know where to go from here Y/N. I want to be with you, but I also think it’s a bad idea if we take this further’ Cillian said with sigh.  

‘I want to be with you too Cillian. In fact, that’s what I wanted for quite some time. The only reason I went on the date with Jeremy was because I didn’t think you were interested in me the same way I was interested in you’ you said as you cupped Cillian’s face. ‘So, with both of us feeling the same way, why can’t we just be together?’ you asked.

‘Together as in being a couple?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘You are 18 years younger than me Y/N, it can’t possibly work’ Cillian said.

‘Age is just a number. Despite, it worked for many couples before. I think it all depends on an individual’s personality’ you said, trying to reason with Cillian.

‘I don’t think you understand the implications. It is not that simple Y/N’ Cillian said as his hand ran gently over your cheek.

‘Well, explain it to me then. What implications are you talking about?’ you asked.

‘For starters, are you prepared for the social disapproval of our relationship, possibly even from family?’ Cillian asked before carrying on. ‘Also, as you know, I have to deal with press now and then. As you could imagine, there would probably be a lot of backlash’ Cillian added.

‘I am happy to take my chances if you are. There will always be haters in the world and, if this is what I need to deal with in order to be happy, then so be it’ you said, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘I love you Cillian, that’s all that matters to me’ you said as you cupped his face firmly.

‘I love you too Y/N’ Cillian said, before kissing you gently. ‘I suppose we can see where this goes, if this is what you want’ he said after he broke the kiss, causing you to simply nod and smash your lips back onto his.

You continued the passionate kisses for quite some time until you both noticed your tummies growling.

‘Hungry?’ Cillian asked as he brushed his hand through your hair gently. You had been in front of the fire place for hours by that time.

‘Yes a little’ you giggled. You really didn’t want to get up.

‘Yeah me too’ Cillian said. ‘How about I make my girlfriend some dinner and then we watch a movie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Sounds fantastic, I help’ you said just before you kissed one more time.

A Broken Heart.

Lee Bodecker x fem!reader

Chapter 2

Chapter warnings: 18+ mentions of death, mentions of sex, cursing, Lee being an ass, angst, meninist behaviors

Chapter summary: You move back home after three years to find your heart still in shambles.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3

3 Years Later

After moving a whole county away, Highland Ohio to be exact, you stayed for quite some time. Your aunt was amazing and the sweetest woman you’d ever known, and living with her was a breeze. She’d even gotten you a job at the auto shop her recently deceased husband left to her, which you loved. Life was good, for a while. You never had a reason to come home until your momma got sick.

For the past year you watched as your momma slowly faded away until the last week of April when she finally passed in her sleep. You were devastated, of course, but not only because of her death. She didn’t have much to her name besides a couple thousand in the bank and the house you’d left so long ago, which she left all to you.

The house was old. White paneling a faint tint of brown, grey shutters that were almost all off their hinges and rust anywhere you looked. It was a fixer upper and there’s no way you could sell it in its current condition. So, you decided to move back to Knockemstiff, just for the time being.

In all honesty, you’d grown to hate that town. Nothing but bad memories and any good memories you’d had were tarnished completely. So, once the house was decent enough to sell, you were out of there and back to the life you’d created in Highland.

Your aunt and you drove together in her pick up truck back to the house after your momma passed. She helped you unload your stuff and take things to the necessary rooms.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay? I can make my famous pancakes. I know you love’em.” She grinned.

“As tempting as that sounds, I’m fine. Please, I insist you go now before it gets dark.” You pull your aunt into a hug, a tight hug.

“I’m gonna miss havin’ you around, kiddo.” She sighed, her breath fanning over your neck.

“It’s only for a few months. I’ll be back to annoying you in no time, oldie.”

“Hey, I’m not old.” She laughed and pointed her finger at you sternly but still in a lighthearted way.

“And I’m not a kid.”

She laughed a little more then sighed, “Well, I guess I’ll head out. Call me if you need anything and don’t forget to go down to Billy’s tomorrow. He’s excited to bring you in.”

You smiled, “How could I forget? I need some sort of income to fix this craphole up.”

You walked your aunt to her car and waved her goodbye as she drove way. Your eyes welled up but you made sure not to cry in front of her or she’d never leave.

Once you went back in, you immediately got to work. Starting in the kitchen, you didn’t have much but a few coffee cups. The house was still occupied with your momma’s things and you were already dreading having to go through it all.

Things started to come together room by room as you worked most of the day away. You cleaned and rearranged things to your liking now that it was your house. It felt almost empowering to do what you want. You’d never lived alone so, in a way, this was an adventure as well.

You took your old room instead of the master, since that’s where your momma passed. It gave you goosebumps just thinking about and you knew you’d never get any sleep if you stayed in there. Your room wasn’t big but it was good enough for now and much better than sleeping in your momma’s death bed, hard pass.

You’d taken a seat on the couch with some tea you’d brewed up earlier that morning. This was the first time you sat down since arriving, and of course there’s a knock at the door.

“Whatever you’re selling, I promise you, I ain’t interested.” You shout, too exhausted to even attempt getting up.

The knocking continued, “Oh, for fucks sake.” You groaned under your breath and stood on your aching feet to tell them to fuck off in person. You opened the door, “did you not hear me the first time. I said-“

“Hi, Y/n” Lee greeted as he removed his hat.

You scoffed, “Can I help you with somethin’, Sheriff?”

Lee stood there, fiddling with the bill of his hat. His belly had gotten a little bigger and his cheeks had gotten a little chubbier, but you couldn’t help the hitch in your throat when his wedding ring caught your eye. Just a basic silver band, nothing special. But it still left a hollow pit in your stomach.

“I-“ he cleared his suddenly dry throat. “I heard you was back in town. Thought I’d come see for ma self if the rumors were true.”

“Welp, here I am. You can go now.”

“Y/n, I-“

“No, Lee, please. I’ve had a long day and I honestly don’t feel like talking to you right now. No, I take that back. I don’t feel like talking to you at all.”

“That’s a bit harsh, don’t you think, doll.” He grins.

“Goodbye, Sheriff.” You shut the door only to hear him holler at you from the other side.

“Still can’t say my name, huh, Doll? Boy, I really did a number on you, didn’t I?” Your heart sank at his words. It seemed your pain was a joke to him this whole time. You’d always pictured him crying alone like you were but clearly that was never the case. Y’all’s relationship didn’t seem one sided until you were the only one hurt by the fall out.

“Welcome home, Y/n.” He said before you heard his boots click against the porch as he left.

You took a deep breath as you backed away from the door. Tears rimmed your eyes and you scoffed aloud to yourself. After three years you still weren’t over him and you knew that. You didn’t know, however, that he’d still have such a hold on you. And by the way he reacted to how sensitive you were towards the situation still didn’t help the ever growing void that ran through your entire loveless body. The only man you ever loved looked at you as if you were a quick fuck and a punchline.

A tear burned against your cheek and you were quick to wipe it away. You swore to yourself that you’d never cry over that man again and you won’t, instead you decided it was time for a much needed bath.

The bath was scolding hot, just how you liked it, and you opened up a bottle of wine as a sort of reward for the work you’d done today. Once the water got cold and the wine ran out, you brushed your hand and teeth and went to bed.

//

The sun beamed down against your skin as you walked to the local auto shop where your aunt had set you up with another job. You were always good with numbers and they desperately needed someone on the books. Your job would be to look at their spending over the last few months and figure out some sort of budget. You did that for your aunt at her shop, so this didn’t worry you at all.

“Hi, you must be Billy.” You greet the owner, “I’m

y/n, Peggy’s niece.”

“Oh, yes. I’m glad you finally made it down.” He beamed, shaking your hand, “How long will you be here for?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Just until I get my house fixed up enough to sell.” You say, retracting your hand from his sweaty one.

“Ah, well as luck would have it, our secretary just quit on us last week, so there’s a position you’ll adjust to right fine.”

You scoffed, “Wait a minute. Did you say secretary?”

“Yeah. You need to get your hearing checked, Honey?” He grinned. What is it with the men in this town?!

“No, I heard you just fine. My problem is that I was supposed to be your Budget Holder, not a damn secretary.” Your face was turning a touch of pink as you became increasingly annoyed.

“That’s a man's job, sweetie. We don’t you blown a fuse tryin’ ta add up all them numbers, now do we?”

“You can’t be serious.” You say flatly.

“Look, it’s the only position we got. Take it or leave it.”

Everything in you wanted to March out of that shop and never go back again. A secretary's position is nothing to frown upon, but to only be offered it because you’re a woman was despicable. Sadly, you needed this job and it would only be for a few months. So, when you told him you’d take the job you swallowed every ounce of respect you had for yourself. Knockemstiff was truly the worst town in America.

“Sounds great. We’ll see you tomorrow for training. There’s no dress code but there are a few things you’ll need to know before starting. I’ll fill you in once we start your training tomorrow.” He shook your hand again, completely ignoring the furious grimace on your face.

“Great. See you tomorrow.” You mumbled, walking away so you didn’t ‘accidentally’ hit your new boss.

//

Before heading home you decided to stop and grab some things for the house. Being sick, your momma didn’t eat much besides soup, and there was an over abundance of vanilla flavored Ovaltine cans littering the kitchen counters, which you hated.

The second the doors opened, all eyes were on you. You even heard a faint gasp coming from the woman at the register. A smirk crept upon your face. These people's lives were so boring that they still aren’t over your breakup that happened so long ago. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a cart and headed down the produce aisle.

Once you grabbed the vegetables you’d need for a stew, you headed towards the baking aisle. You need the ingredients for an upside down pineapple cake your momma used to make for you as a kid. Your aunt was coming into town on Saturday to lend a hand and celebrate her birthday. You told her to go have fun, but she insisted on spending her special day with you.

As you searched for the baking soda, you heard your name.

“Did you see Y/n’s back in town?” A lady with a high pitched voice whispered.

“I did. I just saw her. Poor thing. She’s probably still caught up on the sheriff. Prolly wish it was her that was on his arm instead of Laura-Jean.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I know it. Wouldn’t you, though? He’s so handsome.” The lady with the high patched voice giggled.

“Oh, hush! Don’t say things like that.” The other lady joined the high pitched one in whispered giggles. “Oh my goodness, here he comes.” She cleared her throat, “Afternoon, Sheriff.”

“Evenin’,Ladies. Y’all behavin’ yourselves?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

They both giggled and in unison said, “Yes, Sheriff.”

“Oh give me a break.” You grimaced to yourself.

“Heard Y/n’s back in town.” The high pitched one spoke up. Your face burned. Why would they bring you up to him so bluntly like that? Everyone in this town was so unbelievably nosy.

“I- I heard. Actually just went to see her yesterday.” He said, clearing his throat.

“Uh-oh, the misses didn’t like that, I’m sure.” They giggled.

“Oh, no. She didn’t mind. I was just droppin’ by to give her my condolences about her momma dyin’. Then, she slammed the door in my face. I guess she’s still pretty upset with me.” He was pouting, trying to get some sort of sympathy. If you rolled your eyes any harder you thought they’d pop out of your head.

“Oh, you poor thing. Is there anything we can-“

Suddenly the baking soda slipped from your hand and scattered all other the floor in a puff of dust. “Shit, shit, shit.” You whispered to yourself.

“What was that?” One of the ladies asked.

“Excuse me, ladies.” Lee said. You could hear his boots clacking against the floor on there way over to you.

Shit.

You desperately wanted to run away but leaving this mess for someone to clean up wasn’t right, not even with the predicament you found yourself in. “Well, well, well,” Lee mocked as he rounded the corner. “Only here for less than a day and you’re already causin’ trouble.”

“Stay out of this, Bodecker.” You huff, trying to scoop the baking soda back into the card box it spilled from.

“Was you eavesdroppin’, girl?” He asked, kicking the soul of your shoe.

You scoffed, “Oh, please. I could give two shits what you say about me, Bodecker.”

He leaned in close, hovering over your left side. You heard him chuckle which startled you. He was so close. You could feel the familiar heat radiating from his body and smell that familiar cologne. His lips came down close to your ear. He licked them and then whispered, “If ya weren’t eavesdroppin’, how’d ya know I was talkin’ bout you, hm?”

Your eyes shuttered closed as he spoke, feeling his hot breath against your cheek. His deep southern drawl always made you weak. It took you back to those times in the back of the cruiser. He whispered such dirty praises in your ear when you would ride his cock. Those dirty words that could make you cum in seconds.

“You still with me, doll?” You felt him tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear.

You flitched and stood up, “I- don’t touch me and stop calling me doll, alright? I really don’t have time for your games today, sheriff, and I’m not even really sure what you’re playin’ at in the first place.”

He smirked, running a thumb across his lip, “Darlin, I think the only thing I ever played was you..”

“I-“ your breath hitched in the back of your throat, “I have to go.” You turned to walk away, leaving the mess you’d made and your cart behind. Your eyes welled up with tears again. You didn’t know the man that stood in front of you. Lee was nothing but good to you when you dated and now he’s the most hateful man you’d ever met. The man you loved had disappeared and there’s nothing you could do to bring him back, no matter how bad you wanted to. A tear stained your cheek as you sped through the aisle. You could hear Lee hollering for you to stop but you wouldn’t this time.

All the heartbreak and sorrow that you’d left behind was creeping its way back in. The sooner you sold the house and got the hell out of there, the better.

Dividers by: @firefly-in-darkness

Taglist: @haydens-moles , @c00lkidvibes , @tcc-gizmachine , @buckysm3talarm , @gogolucky13 , @cryptidcasanova , @heavenlyseb , @writersbuck , @teddy-bearbaby , @bbmommy0902 , @sweetllamaparadise , @thereblogcrusader , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @frostbytebaby , @jessyballet , @emotionallyandphysicallydone , @sarge-barnes-sir , @generalbagelcookieslime , @lady-loki-ren , @dime-piece-xo , @greeneyedblondie44

(Dm me to be added to taglist)

La La Land

Read Prologue

Warning ⚠️

Triggering subjects: disassociation, manipulation, mind control, grief. (READ AT OWN RISK)

Wandavision: spoilers (up to episode 6 - just to be safe), violence

———

Pools Of Despair

You weren’t sure how long it’d been, the drive feeling as though it had taken a lifetime. It might have been just down the road and you wouldn’t have been able to tell; time seemed to move torturously slow under Wanda’s control.

She tried to keep herself calm besides your frozen body, already thinking of a way out as she turned the steering wheel. But it was too late to go back.

‘No other way. No other way.’ The words replayed over and over in her head as she finally made it to the front of the building, and it was the first time she fully looked at you. Your face was stoic, the only sign of life being the soft breaths escaping your mouth. You couldn’t look at her - even if you wanted to - and as she reached a hand to your face, the feeling of complete numbness returned.

During the drive there had been small moments of clarity; moments where for the first time you felt in control. It was almost euphoric being able to push through the fog.

But then, as quickly as it had subsided, she would crawl her way back in.

Even now as she turned you toward her fully, you tried to swim through the heaviness, but the black swirls of grief and anguish just got tighter the harder you fought.

Wanda sighed in annoyance. “You can’t go in looking like that.” She pulled at a strand of her hair with a small huff. “Need glasses.”

You were sure if you had control of your body, the pain of your neck would be unbearable, the awkward angle surely making every muscle strain as you were forced to watch her pull apart the car.

This had to have been owned by the only man on the planet that didn’t carry sunglasses in their car. Wanda almost laughed, a punishment for stealing it? She couldn’t be sure.

“Well...” Wanda pulled the blue and white baseball cap by the brim from under her seat. “Better then nothing.” She gave a small smile as she adjusted it on your head, pulling back and grabbing your hand and letting it rest in her lap. “If there was any other way, I swear, I would let you go. But... I just... I can’t live without him.”

You said nothing as she cried.

———

“Head down, get Vision. Leave.” Her voice plagued your every step, each word carved into your brain as you finally reached the front desk.

‘Sword’ was a nice place - or at least had nice flooring - and from the bright light that filled each and every inch of the glossy tile, you knew there had to be a lot of glass. It was a government building after all.

“Can I help you?” Her voice is chirpy, a polite smile painted on her lips, you don’t need to see her eyes to know it wasn’t anything but genuine. She lets the wheels of her chair carry her forward, her computer forgotten besides her as you near the desk.

“Do you have... a meeting?” She smiles again, more forced and you’re able to see the golden pin on her chest that proudly says ‘Mary’ and try once more to float above the darkness.

“I -“ The word leaves your lips aprubtly and the fight drains from you just as fast. “I’m here to inquire about some of my father’s equipment. I’d like it back.” You let the darkness swallow you whole.

“And who are you again?” Mary is quick to pull her deskphone to her ear, hand hovering over the numbers.

———

The name that fell from her lips made Mary freeze. She looked up with wide eyes, both fearful and exited.

Starks were top priority at ‘SWORD’ - she was sure they were top priority everywhere - and as she desperately tried to recall if her boss mentioned anything about Stark equipment, the girl’s patients quickly wore thin.

“Can you please just tell me where to go? I have a long drive ahead of me.” Her voice was a sharp contrast from her apparance. The girl’s voice was stern and loud while her body was scrunched in on itself, eyes glued to the desk. Mary took a glance over the desk and saw the dark fabric of a dress, the hat didn’t even match the girl’s shoes.

“Right.” Mary said. “I’m sorry, just a little... starstruck.” She tried to keep her cool, turning again in her chair and started typing as fast as possible on her little keyboard. The atmosphere was thick with uncomfortable silence and Mary had to make sure not to shiver in the girl’s presence. She scrolled down the list of names and let out a small “ah” when she found your name. Just as quickly as she clicked on it, a pop up window filled the screen

STARK - Access Denined. Call Security

She felt sick; her nerves making her skin pucker as she tried to keep calm. When Mary finally found the courage to move, bile reached through her throat as she saw red eyes looking back.

“Ahh!” Mary was quick to jump out of her chair.

“Fine.” The girl sighed, hand flat on the counter as she took long strides around it. “If you won’t help me.” A red trail flowed through one of the doors; slithering like a snake as it wrapped around the shell shocked receptionist. “I’ll do it myself.”

———

Wanda’s mind had warped, grief and anger become one as she ripped through each and every room of the building. No one was safe from the witch’s wrath as she swung them through various glass panels and equipment. By the third turn she took, guards had given up, opting to instead try desperately to get out of her way.

She had left you at the desk, too transfixed to care and as she heard the various shouts of alarm from down the hallway, she was glad you weren’t in her way.

———

The group of four man were shocked; watching as the two guards dropped their guns and put their hands up for mercy.

“We’ll give you what you want. Please!” One of them - Felix - cried as the woman barreled through the double doors.

Wanda simply flicked her hand and he was sent flying to a wall, his partner following.

“Where is he?” Her accent was thick and the youngest tech almost asked her to repeat herself. “Where is Vision?” The stunned silence only fueled her anger. “You.” Red swirled under one of the men’s feet and lifted him from the ground. “Where?”

If the man could have, he’d be shivering in fear right about now. His life was in the hands of a deranged woman who with a simple flick of her wrist could send him plummeting down ten floors.

Wanda tightened her hold on him in warning and he knew he had to speak.

“Behind us.” He said. “There is a set of double doors, turn left and there’s an examination room.”

“He should be there!” A colleague on his left was shaking as she turn to face him. “He’s not lying.” Wanda let her power swim under him once more beofre gently letting him go.

“Thank you.” She gave a small smile. “Now, go.”

They didn’t have to be told twice.

———

Wanda felt as though she couldn’t breathe, the sight of her dead lover on the table was crippling. Vision was a dark grey; his eyes blank as they stared into her. If it wasn’t for the table itself she would have probably collapsed on to the floor as sobs took over her.

“I cant. I can’t. I -“ The words fell from her lips like a mystical chant. She couldn’t look at him anymore, his body was nothing but an empty shell of parts.

When her body turned to ash; Wanda was ready to die, her last shred of humanity died with Vision. The battlefield would be her final resting place. She chose to spend her last moments hoping that If there was a God that they’d be merciful, that she’d be allowed to spent her afterlife in blissful ignorance.

But instead she woke up.

Five years had passed and she was still there, only now she was alone. It was only after the death of Tony Stark that she let the floodgate of loss fill up her veins. While Thanos was alive, she had a mission; kill him and reverse the snap.

Wanda never imagined the pain that followed. She should have died that day, why couldn’t she have died that day?

Grief had a knack for turning the strongest people into helpless pools of despair.

Vision deserved better. That was what go her up, got her to calm her tears and push herself up. She wasn’t going to let them win. Vision was hers to mourn, to love, and hers to take care of.

She had a new mission, one that was stronger then her need to submit to pain.

But... she needed help carrying him.

———

Your body moved through the halls, following the tethered rope of energy that wrapped around your waist. If it wasn’t for your boots, your feet would have been covered in cuts from the sharp edges of the broken glass that filled the hallways.

The fog had cleared more then before and if you tried hard enough, you might’ve even been able to pull free completely. Wanda was exhausted and the fight had been ripped from you So you let her pull you, let the fog seep through every inch of you.

And as you entered the small room, you forgot you were suppose to care anymore.

“I need you to hold onto his legs.” She said softly, hand stroking his cheek. “Easier to carry both of you.” Your body moved again and you placed a gentle hand onto vision’s ankle.

Wanda wiped the last of her tears away, grabbed onto his arm, and all three of you were lifted off the ground.

———

Hot air blew through Wanda’s hair making her hands continuously push back strands from her face as she walked. The afternoon sun was unrelenting and she had to take several short breaks.

The car was too dangerous to return to - a swarm of agents was not something she wanted to deal with - and controlling someone for almost 24 hour straight took a lot out of her. Her hold on you was weak enough for you to sometimes fully take over, her control turning into a dull ache at the back of your brain.

As she walked in front of you thoughts of running flooded through your brain but the walking had tired your body out, and you were sure that if her little pushes weren’t there, you’d have already collapsed. Even if you had the strength to do it, the empty roads had long ago turned into tall trees and bush. You were in the middle of nowhere and getting loss in the woods with a heartbroken witch was not something you wanted to deal with. So, like a trained puppy, you followed silently behind Vision’s dragging body. It wasn’t hard to keep up, she was as slow as she could be while Vision’s body left a dirt trail.

“Break.” Wanda breathed. Who knew an empty little spot of grass would be so inviting? “Sit.” You felt a small push and follow it down to the ground. You let your fingers grip the direr under them, the cool breeze making you sigh.

“Where-“ The sound of your voice startled both of you but she stayed still. “Where are we going?”

She said nothing, choosing to instead turn on her knees and pull Vision forward by the arms.

“When I was little-“ Wanda smiled to herself as she stared down at Vision. “- I use to dream about this field. Me and Peitro went past it everyday during the summer. It had all these small flowers growing.” You listen intently as she giggles, eyes losing focus as she is hit with the memory. “I always tried to sneak past the fence... but, I was alway stopped by someone.” Her mouth twitches and you feel the pulsing return in your neck. “It’s probably nothing but dirt now, like everything.”

“Where are we going, Wanda?” You try to keep your voice soft, afraid of ruining the small moment as you reached out for her but she was quick to stop you, hand glowing red and inches away from your face.

“Don’t.” She warns. You nod in silent apology.

“We’re not far from a road.” Wanda let’s her hand fall back to her side. “I want you go and call whoever you need to.” You’re almost startled when her control leaves fully from your body, it almost feels empty. “Tell them what I did, or don’t, I don’t care. I have what I want.”

“Wanda -“

“Please.” The crack in her voice makes tears pool in your eyes. “Just go.”

You stand on shaking legs. The world was spinning and you felt as though you had just gotten off a rollercoaster but you tried to steady yourself. Unsure of where to go, you turn to her once more for guidance and she simply points behind you.

Your conscious wouldn’t let you leave. Wanda was tired and you were afraid of leaving her alone. Regardless of what she did; you knew you couldn’t blame her, she had lost everyone.

In a way, so did you.

“I’m sorry about Vision.” Wanda looked up again and gave you a small nod. “About Pietro, about everyone. I wish it was different.”

“Me too, Stark.” She let her fingers wrap around your hand and squeezed. The warmth from the dock returned and you couldn’t help but give her a small grin of gratitude. “I meant what I said at the funeral.”

Both of you were so wrapped up in your own little bubble, you didn’t even question why the birds stopped.

————

Tag list (open, just ask)

@white-wolf-buckaroo @y-napotat

All my stuff is open, and I’m always happy to hear from people so feel free to let me know what ya thought. I always get stuck halfway through writing but I hope it wasn’t too hard to read.

Next chapter will be fun.

Levi x Reader Hate At First Sight

Summary: after hearing about you getting into a fight with some Military Police, Erwin and Levi go to try and enlist you as a scout, much to Levi’s dismay. Though, after some months spent there, you found yourself to be disliked by many scouts.

(a/n: look at my baby his side profile he’s so beautiful. also i do not hate petra it’s just for the sake of the fic so please don’t @ me lmao)

You gripped your knees, your back hunched while your chest rose and sank as you tried to catch your breath. The reason you were running was that moments ago, some men tried to molest you. Though you were able to beat them down, you obviously didn't want to stay around that area of filthy MPs. Yes, they were everywhere, but that particular place isn't somewhere where you should be late in the evening. Only whores would walk around there. And you definitely aren't one of them. You may have the face and figure of one, but you would never stoop to that level just to get money and to pleasure foul men who treat women as objects. It's good that you're poor because then you have loose clothes that don't make your curvaceous body show. Walking at a slower pace, you made your way to your 'home' which was just a place behind a store, which had sacks piled on top of each other, making it comfortable enough to sleep there rather than the gelid ground. And to be able to get the owner to let you stay there, you had a massive dispute that caused you to get attention to yourself and you were on the verge of pulling out the blade you keep in your boot. But now, you are on good terms with him.

A lot of the friends you had didn't remain with you because of your temper. Or they would have been caught by the Military Police. Either way, you don't have any of your past friends. Hey, it's not your fault you would go out of control at any time, sometimes for no reason. Well, it is your fault but you didn't make yourself this way, so tell that to whatever god is up there.

You plopped down onto the stack of sacks, staring up at the midnight blanket, where stars sparkled in and the gleaming moon gazed down at you. As you rested your head on your arm and your other arm laid across your torso, your stomach slightly grumbled from being deprived of food. Sighing, you jumped up, heading inside the shop you laid behind. Thankfully, it was a small restaurant. As you walked in, the owner glanced at you with a frown. "(Y/N), it's closing time. Why are you coming in now?" You put a hand to your stomach. "Don't tell me. It's my hollow stomach." "Here." He chucked you a whole loaf of bread and an apple. "Now, leave. I've got to clean up." "Thanks.” Sitting back down, you threw the apple up in the air and caught it in your left hand as you ate the bread. After finishing the food, you relaxed and closed your eyes, so you could escape from the life you have and dream about living somewhere else, somewhere cosy, somewhere warm and more home-like. And maybe even someone you could spend your life with without them leaving you because of your fierceness or dying. ~/~ "Corporal Levi?" "What?" aforementioned person replied with an exasperated sigh. "Commander Erwin said he needs to talk to you." "Tch. Okay." He walked away with profanities soaring through his mind, wanting to just go to his office and avoid people that were getting on his nerves. Stepping into the Commander's office, he crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned against the wall after shutting the door. "What do you want?" The Commander gestured to a chair in front of him so the other male could sit down and he could inform him of the situation. "A while ago, in Wall Sina, there was a woman who got in a fight with a few Military Police and took off with ODM gear. She isn’t a soldier or anything, so she most likely hadn't handled gear before, but she was able to use it with ease, meaning she's someone skilled." "So?" "We need to go get her to enlist as a scout." "Tch. Why? She already sounds shitty and bratty." "We're going tonight, Levi." He stood up and left the office, clicking his tongue. All he wanted was to avoid people and now, he has to go get some bitch who probably doesn't even know how to wipe their ass. An hour, or so, ago... A group of four Military Police surrounded you, all of them having smug expressions that made you want to punch them in their faces... and then their balls. You wouldn't let them get away with only a punch to the face. Who do they think you are? A princess? You steal some gear thingy, that looked intriguing to you, from one of them and suddenly you're the bad guy? These idiots think they can beat you as well. You could just laugh. "Do you really think you can beat me?" you chuckled. You did just laugh. "We don't want to hurt you, darlin'. Just give us back the gear." "Who said you can call me darlin'?" you snarled and fly kicked one of them. He ended up slamming against the building behind him, sliding down the wall, knocked out. You charged at another, kicking their crotch and punching the top of his head as he dropped onto the ground with a thud.

Two more left... One of them came towards you with their fist drawn back to punch you with a force meant to harm you but you caught their fist and twisted their arm, pushing it towards their chest as they let out a cry of pain. You thrust your foot at his abdomen as he held his arm, groaning.

"Are you really going to try and beat me?" The last one only smirked, approaching you, so you pulled out the blades from the equipment you took from him and pressed it to his neck. He froze on the spot and gulped, cold sweat appeared on his flesh and dropped with a patter on the ground. "I'm going to give you five seconds to take your comrades and get your asses out of here." You put the blade back into its place and watched the panicking man pick up the other dirty humans and hurry away, not wanting to wait to see what you would do after five seconds. Ignoring the people gawking at you, you dusted your clothes before figuring out how to use the gear to head to your favourite shop, wanting something to drink. You were able to do it with ease, flying through the doors and swiftly landing on your feet. The bell rang to notify people that someone came in.

You sat on your table. Yes, it was your table and all the regulars knew that after seeing you pound a man for taking your table. Ever since then, no one has sat at that table apart from the drunk idiots who want your attention or people that haven't been to this place yet. It was near the window and it had the sofa seat so you would lean your back against the window, stretching your legs across the seat. You placed the equipment you took on the table.

"Oi, Luis," you called to the owner, and he looked at you from where he was at the counter. "The usual." He nodded at you and proceeded to make you your black tea with no sugar. After about five minutes, he placed the cup of tea in front of you as you handed him some money you were able to 'earn', paying him for the food he gave you the last few days as well. But you always got a discount so it wasn't too much of a problem for you to stea-- earn a bit of dough. "Hi, (Y/N)~" Yay, another drunken fool trying to hit on you. You rolled your eyes, disregarding his presence that sat opposite you as you drank your tea. He was saying shit you weren't listening to. But, seriously, who gets drunk during the day? He's probably just another jerk whose wife ran away from and took most of his money or something like that. All these snobby, egotistic people, who live within Wall Sina, piss you off to the extent that you want to make sure that their pained screams reach Wall Rose, so that those citizens would know what would happen if they pissed you off. "Hey, idiot, I'm going to give you three seconds to get out of my sight," you growled. All he did was smirk and lean over the table, trying to get closer to you. You punched him the middle of his face, but it didn't look like he could feel it. You stood up and dragged him off the seat, kicking him over and over as he laid on the sparkling, marble floor. "Hey, hey, hey!!" Luis jogged up to you. "(Y/N), you need to stop beating up my customers! Soon, you'll be my only customer." "Tell this bastard to get the fuck out and leave me alone, then." "I can't kick someone out for you." "Tch." You trudged out of the shop, wandering around the streets, hiding from any MPs that walked past, so you could evade another fight since you weren't in the mood for any action. "Hey, (Y/N)!" "Moritz," you greeted as he came up to you. "I haven't seen you in a while." "Just trying to stay away from any bastards. So, get away from me," you joked to which he chuckled softly. "My offer still stands... I'd like a daughter like you." "Sorry, Moritz. Leon isn't my type." "My son is in love with you. He's a kind and soft lad and if I'm being fair, he's handsome." "Exactly. That isn't my type. I want someone strong, feisty and someone able to handle my temper and maybe get into heated arguments with me. But of course, I want someone attractive." Several hours later... "Levi, are you ready?" "Yes." The stoic man let out a heavy breath and proceeded to leave his office, following the tall blonde. They both got their gear before leaving the building and entering a carriage waiting for them. "Why is this brat special? There are so many cadets that can use ODM gear." "As I said before, she isn’t a soldier and was able to use it without practice." "What's her name?" "(Y/N) (L/N)." The rest of the journey was quiet, only a few words of what they were going to do and the occasional click of the tongue because of how long the trip was. Finally, they arrived in front of a classy restaurant and it was filled with people due it being the evening when couples go there. You shimmied past the couples all dressed up in fancy clothes and you were able to make it out of it. Looking back over your shoulder, you rolled your eyes before frowning when you saw two men standing in front of you. You crossed your arms over your chest and arched an eyebrow. "Look, I took your friend's gear hours ago. Why are you still chasing after me? It's not that big of a deal." "Are you (Y/N) (L/N)?" the taller male asked. "... Yes. What do you want?" "May I see the gear you were talking about?" "Are you going to take it?" "No." "Okay. Follow me." You walked to your pile of sacks, expecting them to be behind you but they were in their place. "You coming or what?" They slowly approached you, wary of their surroundings. "What is this place?" the stoic male questioned, clearly disgusted. "Welcome to my humble abode." You ignored his criticism. You looked about for the gear but you couldn't find it, that's when you realised that you had left it in the restaurant. You hoped that no one took it. You sighed and looked into the restaurant, telling the two males where you left it, so they dismissed you, allowing you to get it and they followed you but waited outside. You opened the door, pushing people out of the way. "Move out the way, you fucking arrogant idiots," you muttered. You looked around your table where a couple sat but you didn't care since you weren't going to sit there and there wasn't any other space. You frowned when you didn't see it. Who the fuck took it? ... Oh, they did. There were two men and a woman on a table with the gear in front of them as they all put their nasty hands on it. The woman was drunk and holding a wine glass filled with a red liquid, one of the men was smoking and the other had a beer. You barged through the crowd, striding to their table. "Excuse me. This is mine." You tried taking it, but the man closest to you stopped you from doing that as he stood up, coming closer to you so you backed away. You could smell the cigarettes emitting from him as you held your breath at the foul smell. "Now, why would I let you take this without anything in return?" "Tch. Give it before I prevent you from having kids." "I wouldn't mind having a baby with a gal like you." "Get your breath out of my face. And give it to me. I swear, I'll knock you down so you won't be able to get up ever again," you grumbled. "I like my women feisty." You punched his left cheek and he stumbled back into his seat as you picked up the gear, turning around to face the entrance but all you saw was more people entering. Okay, you didn't care anymore. You swiped a man and stepped on him to get closer to the door but a woman came in your way, her boobs blocking your way. You slid through what little space there was and jumped over a short person, enabling you to exit and go back to the two men outside. The one with blue eyes looked surprised as you passed him the material. "That was impressive." "What?" "How you got past all those people." "Eh, it was nothing." "Anyway, are you able to use this properly?" "Yes. It isn't that hard." "Can you show me your skills with it?" "Why? Wait... how do you even know my name? Who are you people?" you inquired after realisation hit you. "I'm Commander Erwin Smith and this is Corporal Levi Ackerman. We're from the Scout Regiment and we heard that you got into a fight with some MPs and you were able to easily use this so I wanted to see your skills and see if you're worthy of becoming a scout." "Why would I want to join you? All of you are stupid to leave the walls to fight titans. I don't want to become like you. And there are a lot who don't even know how to fight and I don't want to fight with morons,” you responded. "Yes, I don't have a great life but it's better than risking it to go do something stupid. I don't care if you're the Commander and he's Humanity's Strongest Soldier, I'm not becoming a scout." "Tch. We don't do something stupid, we fight for humanity. You only fight to get away from trouble. I don't know why we have to save the likes of you but we do and we don't do it because we want to, we do it because we have to. And they may be idiots, but they're damn good soldiers who shouldn't be ill spoken about by someone like you," Levi growled lowly, venom laced in his words. 'Someone like you', who does this fucking midget think he is? You were probably around his height but women are generally shorter than men. You narrowed your eyes and proceeded to thrust your fist at his face but he dodged it before headbutting you. He punched your nose, causing it to bleed and he struck your gut straight after. He threw punches at you, one after another, until you had enough, bringing your leg up to kick the side of his head. He put his hand there, weakening the blow, and grabbed your ankle, slamming you down onto the stone ground. You felt slightly dizzy but you shook it off, standing up immediately, ramming your knuckles into his face and you tried to trip him over but he kept his balance. After punches being thrown and both of you being beaten up, to finish the fight off, he slid behind you and twisted your arm behind your back, stepping on your foot as his other hand held your wrist by your side. You tried shaking him off, but it was futile. He twisted your arm more, getting a quiet hiss of pain from you. "You may be able to beat up some useless MPs but we, at the Scout Regiment, are nothing like them. You better think twice before you try to fight with me." "Thank you, Le--" Erwin started but was cut off. "(Y/N)?" a gentle voice uttered, and you turned your head towards it. "What are you doing here, Leon?" "I-I came here to see you..." he shyly said, his ginger hair hiding his emerald eyes as he gazed at the ground where blood trailed. "What's happening? Who are these men?" He looked back up with concern pooling in his orbs. "It's nothing. Do you want to talk about something?" "It can wait. It looks like you have to deal with something." "Oi, get off of me. I won't try to put up a fight, or run away." "I don't trust you." You clicked your tongue and lifted your foot up to kick his groin but he wrapped his leg around yours so you weren't able to strike him. "Can I not talk to him?" you snapped. "Levi, let her go." "Idiot," you murmured loud enough so he was able to hear but he didn't say anything. You walked up to the boy. "Leon, I don't think you should tell me anything important because I don't know if I'm going to be able to see you after today. They're from the Survey Corps and they want to enlist me. I don't want to go, but it looks like they're going to force me." "But--" You could see the tears welling up in his pretty eyes. "I love you, (Y/N)." "I know. But that's how it is. Sorry." You didn't sound sorry at all, your tone was your usual dull, yet harsh one, but you genuinely did feel a bit of compassion for him. After two years of trying to get you to be his wife, you're going to leave his life without leaving any feelings for him. He was a gentleman and you liked him, however, not as a lover or whatever, he was just delightful to have around. You didn't want to leave him like this so you embraced him, gently rubbing his back and whispering a few words. "Will you ever come back?" "I don't know. It's a high possibility that I won't." "If you do, will you marry me then?" "We'll have to see," you smiled; it was the first smile you ever let break out onto your lips since you were around ten. "Tch. Why did I come to see this?" "Shut up, Levi. Just be glad that you'll have a valuable soldier on your side." A scowl replaced your smile. He scoffed. "We've got plenty of useful soldiers, including myself." "I might see you later, Leon. Bye." "Bye, (Y/N)." He took your hand and softly kissed it. And with that, you left the boy in heartbreak and started a new life as a scout after showing them your skills, which Levi scoffed at so you backhanded him. On the way to headquarters, you and Levi sat opposite each other and argued as Erwin silently sat there, wishing for the ride to be over. Since the journey was long and it was around midnight, you had fallen asleep after some time, allowing peace to settle into the carriage. Once you reached HQ, Erwin stepped out and stood by the carriage, waiting for you and Levi to get off. "Oi, brat, get up." Levi tried to awake you. "Brat, wake up." "Who you calling brat?" you asked tiredly, failing to convey your irritation. "You. Now, shut up and get out." "Tch. Don't go telling me what to do, Ackerman," you muttered angrily, too tired to put up a fight. All three of you entered the building and coincidentally, you were walking next to Levi, starting another argument so Erwin walked in between the both of you, leading you to his office, while Levi went to his.

"Take a seat, (Y/N),” he told you. "This is the key to your room. We'll fill out the paperwork and do everything tomorrow. For now, just go sleep and I'll tell you all you need to know tomorrow." "Whatever." You left his office after he told you the directions to your room and you went there, finding a single bed with a bedside table that had a lit lantern. The first thing you wanted to do was have a shower since you felt sweaty from all the action you had today. Once you showered, you went straight to bed, snuggling into the blanket, able to have a good night's sleep for once in ages. ~/~ After changing into your uniform, you looked at your reflection. It fit you very well but you didn't want it to. You don't like showing your curves, but it's not that you feel insecure with people looking, you just don't like it. You don't want your body to be the thing that attracts people and you don't want people coming after you because of your alluring figure. With no hesitation, you would punch anyone that tries to touch you. As you were told to, you went to Erwin's office before breakfast started, ignoring the gazes that were focused on your form. You rolled your eyes as you stepped into his office, slamming the door behind you. "Gosh, these idiots don't know how to keep their eyes in their sockets." You turned your head to the door, not noticing Erwin's cerulean eyes on you. He blinked to break himself out of his daze and cleared his throat as he gestured to the seat in front of him. You sat down casually, not caring about being formal. "Sit up, (Y/N)." "Tch." "Sit up," he repeated. "You shouldn't disobey your superiors." You sighed and did as he said. "Happy?" "I've got these papers for you to sign," he told you as he handed a few sheets. "And these papers have information that you'll need to know but I'm going to go through it with you. I'm going to put you in Hanji's command..." After about half an hour, you were able to leave his office and make it for breakfast. You entered the mess hall with him and grabbed some food, sitting down on an empty table since you have yet to get to know these people and you thought that people would come up to you first. "Who is she?" "Mmm~ Look at that ass." "Look at those boobs." "You lot are pervs." "You only say that because you have Krista." "Yeah, and she's better than whoever that woman is." "I think she's pretty." "She's certainly not ugly." "Eren?" "Mikasa, do you not say anything else?" "Eren?" "What?" "Stop ogling her." "I-I wasn't." "Yeah, right, Jaeger. Wipe the drool from your mouth." "I'm the one drooling? You look like you have rabies." "You want to take this outside?" "Both of you, stop being children." You glanced at the table making the most noise and saw that all ten of them were looking in your way. Some averted their eyes as others smiled at you, however, you gave a cold stare in return before looking back at your food. It wasn’t exactly intentional to look at them like that, it's basically just your usual expression. "Did you see that?" "She may be pretty, but she's rude." "Who does she think she is? Looking at us like that." "I didn't see what happened." "Of course you didn't. You were too busy stuffing your face with food." "I think we should go talk to her." "Yeah, teach her a lesson." "Guys, sit down. You can't do that do a new person." "Yeah, guys, what's wrong with you?... Wait like a week, then you can teach her a lesson." "Jean! Don't encourage them!" "Oi, you lot?" You stood at their table, their heads turning your way as they had just noticed that you were there. "If you try to beat me up, you'll be s-- What the hell are you doing?!" you yelled at the person on your left who just touched your ass. "Feeling your ass," he stated nonchalantly. "You people are pervs. I agree with whoever that it is." "Whoever that it is, is Ymir," said girl inserted. They all introduced themselves to you but you couldn't be any less interested. "Okay, whatever. I don't give a shit about who you are. I came here to tell you that if you, Eren, Ymir, Jean and Reiner, try to beat me up, you'll be sorry. And I don't understand, do you want to grope my ass or beat it, Reiner?" "Who said I can't do both?" he smirked as you rolled your eyes, about to go back to your table. "Wait, (Y/N). Why don't you sit with us?" "So I can get harassed? No, thanks." "Just sit with us. We promise we won’t do anything," Jean told you. With slight reluctance, you got your plate from the other table and sat on the end of the table next to Armin, everyone focused on you as you spoke about your life before you came here.

At times, you would notice brown eyes belonging to a strawberry-blonde girl and grey eyes belonging to a raven man flutter towards you, but every time you looked up, they pretended as if they weren't staring at you. You could feel their glares burn into you. And you knew Levi's stare was of anger, but what was that girl's problem? ~/~ You wore a vest top and shorts, training with Reiner who volunteered to, probably just so he could see you with fewer clothes on. It's been going on for the past few weeks. You were a bit distracted during training because you felt as if someone was watching you and they were giving off a dark aura. You looked around but couldn't find anyone. "(Y/N), are you okay?" "Yeah. Come on." You waited for him to attack you and he did but you were able to knock him down before you saw the cause of the dark aura in the distance. "Hey, you!" you shouted, going towards them. "Do you have something to say to me?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "No. Nothing at all." She clenched her jaw. "You're Petra, right?" "Yeah. Actually, I do want to tell you something, you stay away from Corporal Levi," she growled, scrunching your vest in her fist. "Woah, Petra! What are you doing to (Y/N)?" Reiner jogged up to the two of you. Damn, now you can't beat the crap out of her. She let go of you and put on a bright smile, facing Reiner who knew that that smile was fake. "Nothing. I was just giving her some advice about making friends." "We need to train so leave us alone," Reiner took your arm protectively and dragged you away, but you protested. "Wait. I'll train with Petra today," you smirked devilishly. "No." "Oi, Petra! How about you spar with me?" "... Why?" "Just." You shrugged. "Sure," she agreed when she saw Levi come outside of the building, taking the chance to get his attention. You knew she wasn't strong enough for her to beat you, so this wouldn't end well for her. You both got into a fighting stance, before you threw your fist forward at her face, but you stopped just before you hit her so she dodged the potential blow and wasn't able to elude the kick you gave at her side. She was about to topple over but she caught herself, not letting you be victorious just yet. She attempted to punch your gut but you blocked it by making a cross over yourself. A crowd formed around you two, including the Corporal that Petra seemed obsessed about. But, of course, with his short stature, he wasn't able to see who exactly was fighting, so he pushed people out of the way, able to reach the front and see you and Petra. She tried to trip you over but that failed miserably and she fell flat on her face. A few from the huddle snickered quietly as others applauded even though it wasn't a real win. You crouched down and whispered, "Good luck in impressing that stubborn idiot." You got back up, grabbed your uniform and walked off, ignoring Levi who called for you. "Hanji!" you called to get her attention as she strolled through the castle. "Yes?" "Does Petra like Levi or something?" "I think so, yes. Why are you asking?" "During my training, she was watching me and she said to stay away from him. We got into a small fight which quickly ended because of her stupidity. I'm guessing the only reason this happened is that she's jealous. But she's moronic if she thinks that I would try to move to Levi." "Who's moronic?" a familiar voice spoke from behind you. You turned around. "Petra. Why the fuck would she think that I like you? You're bothersome, you're stubborn, you're irritating, you're an ass, you annoy the hell out of me and you're a bastard." "Thanks," he replied sarcastically. "The same can be said about you." "Tch. Shut it, Ackerman." "You know, you have a temper problem. And you shouldn't talk to me like that." "This is who I am. I can talk to you in any way I like." "You might not be able to talk after I knock your teeth out," he threatened with a glare. "I'm not scared of you." "We'll see about that," he muttered before walking away. "And put some clothes on." "What did you do to Shorty to make him so angry with you?" "I called soldiers stupid. Got in a fight with him. We've argued a lot of times." "Oof. I would have advised you to stay on his good side." "Too late." You shrugged. "It won't last long. He'll soften up after some time." "I don't think he will. Whatever, I need to go 'put some clothes on'." "Okay. Can I borrow you after for help with experiments?" Hanji asked slowly, hoping you wouldn't yell at her like last time, saying how you didn't give a sh*t about it. "No," you bluntly said as you left her, going to your room but was stopped by an annoying figure who you rolled your eyes at. "Looking good, (Y/N)." "Shut up." "You look a little dirty, want to have a shower with me?" You grabbed Jean's collar and brought your face close to his, a glare etched on your visage as you saw his Adam's apple move down and then back into its place as he gulped. "Shut the hell up and I'll let this one time slide." He nodded and scurried off once you let you go of him, entering your room and locking the door behind you. You decided to shower since you were covered in sweat and you felt nasty. ~/~ "Eurgh, look who it is," a voice whispered a little too loud as you entered the mess hall for breakfast, striding to your usual table with a few of people that you don't mind being around and the few that aren't annoying you or bothering you in any way. "She doesn't belong here." "You know, I heard that before she came here she worked in a brothel." "Everyday, she wears her vest top and short shorts, acting like a slut." "The other day, she was being a bitch to me. She laughed at my figure when I was looking in my reflection. Then, she said that no one would love me when I have a body like this." "I've heard that she's flirted with every man she's had contact with." This has been going on for at least three months: people making fun of you, talking about you, pushing you about, calling you names and such. You haven't taken any of it to heart, but you wondered what happened to make nearly everyone despise you. Everyone but superiors and the ten scouts you had befriended first, and even though Levi dislikes you, he doesn't contribute to the crowd that is being cruel to you. He already hated you from the start. "They're still going at it?" "Forget about them," Erwin told you. "How can I when they're practically saying it to me? All of what they're saying isn't even true. And they shouldn't try to start a fight with me because I'll beat the sh*t out of them." "Well, you are a bitch, so that's true," Levi murmured. "Ackerman, I suggest you shut up before I beat the shit out of you." You rammed your heel into his foot under the table since you were opposite him. "Tch. You should be happy that some of us aren't part of those dumb brats." "Dumb?" you repeated. "So, you're saying that they're dumb for saying all that stuff about me?" "... No... They're stupid in general." "Mhm." "What was that?" He frowned. "What?" "That 'mhm'." "Nothing." After staring at each other questioningly, you both went quiet as the other superiors on your table carried on their own conversations. Halfway through breakfast, you felt something cold and wet being poured onto your head, soaking your shirt and falling down your shirt which sent a shiver through you. You stood up and turned around to the laughing bastards, kicking the boy in the nuts and slapping the girl which shut them up. "What the fuck is your problem?! What did I do to you?!" "Someone decided to go braless today," the girl whispered to the other. You looked down and felt your cheeks growing red, out of rage and embarrassment. Something landed on your head and hung over your chest. You realised that it was a cape that Levi threw at you, which you wrapped around yourself before heading to your room to change out of the drenched clothes that you had just changed into. "Why the hell are you doing this? Yeah, she can be a brat, but all of you are, so I don't know why you lot are acting like this towards her when she didn't do anything. Both of you have kitchen duty for two months. If I see you one of you two do anything to her, you won't see the end of it." "Yes, sir." "Now, get the hell out of my face," Levi ordered as he sat back down in his seat, the others on the table looking at him with surprise. Who knew he would stand up for you like that? "What are you looking at?" "How come you stood up for (Y/N) like that?" Miche asked. "I didn't stand up for her. I was scolding them for acting like that towards a cadet." "Yeah, yeah, that's what they all say," Hanji said quietly with a smirk. "You shut up, Shitty Glasses." "I'm just saying that I don't think you would have done that for any other scout." "... That may be true, but they're mistreating (Y/N) for no reason." "Getting close to her, are we?"

"Tch. Just shut up." "Shorty has a crush~" Hanji sang in a low voice near his ear as she sat next to him, her 'best friend'. "I've only known her for five damn months. How could I already like her?" "Why are you asking me? And five months isn't that short, it's quite long if you think about it." "I don't care. I don't like her." "Okay~ Whatever you say~" Levi shot daggers at her before going back to eating in silence, not interacting with any more annoying people who seem to have a habit of bothering him nearly every day. One day, they'll leave him and he can live in serenity. One day, when all the titans are rid of and he can leave this shithole. All he has to do wait for that damn day that's taking its time to arrive. Can't it be a little more considerate? "I have to agree with Hanji. You seem to be a little protective over (Y/N)," Erwin stated after some time. "I. Don't. Fucking. Like. That. Brat." "Calm down, Levi. It's not a bad thing to like (Y/N)," Moblit teased. "Tch." The raven stood up and left the mess hall as he could hear the others laughing at him in the background. He slammed the door shut and trudged to his office with a scowl. He found you standing outside his office, your hand reaching for the handle but you stopped when you saw him come your way. "What are you doing, brat?" "I was going to give you your cape back. Thanks," you muttered. "Shut up," he grumbled, snatching the material from your hands and stepping into his office, locking the door. "Oi! Why are you telling me to shut up when I said thanks?" you shouted. "Get away from my office!" he yelled back. You rolled your eyes and started to go back to the mess hall. "Last time I thank you, bastard," you mumbled to yourself. ~/~ Your door shut with a bang after you had stormed into it, and leaned your back against the wood, hiding your face in your hands as you cried. Your legs gave out so you dropped to the ground with your legs arched and your arms resting on your knees as you placed your head on your arms, feeling tears drop onto your lap, seeping through your clothes. Two minutes later, you heard laughing, yelling and then footsteps approach your room. Light knocks sounded from the door with the soft call of your name. You knew who it was, but didn't respond so they turned the handle, slowly pushing the door open, however, you prevented that from happening by sitting by the door. They slid through the small gap before closing the door again, crouching down to you. "(Y/N)." "Leave me alone!" you shouted, though it was muffled behind your sobs and your face was hidden. "No. You obviously need someone right now." "I hate you! I hate all of them! Just get the fuck out!!" you roared, tearing your face away from your arms and looking at Levi's gentle expression. He didn't seem startled at all. "... Why are they doing this to me?" you whispered and concealed your face again, not wanting Levi to see you in this state. "Ignore them." "You know, it's all that Petra's fault. The bitch is envious of me and just wants to break me down into nothing. All because she's in love with you and she thinks that I like you!" "Tch. I don't even like her. She can fuck off. And how is doing this going to make me fall for her? I was wondering why she was being more clingy than usual," he muttered, but it was more to himself before he turned his attention back to you. "Don't let her break you down. You're a strong woman, so don't let something petty like this ruin you." "What am I meant to do? You don't know how hard it is to overlook them. You don't know how hard it is to keep a straight face when I'm hurting inside. I don't care if Petra may be making them do this, I hate it!" Surprisingly, you felt arms loop around your cowered form and haul you onto Levi's lap which made you remove your head from your arms again, looking at the raven, who was now right in front of you and gazing at your bloodshot eyes. He gently wiped your tears away and brushed a few (H/C) tresses that stuck to your tear-stained face.

More tears escaped as you shoved your face into his chest, soaking his shirt with the salty moisture and snot. He cradled you in his arms until you stopped crying which was about under an hour. "Are you okay now?" "Yeah. Thank you," you murmured as you wiped your face with tissue that Levi got for you. "Don't mention it. Do you need to talk?" "What's there to talk about? Petra hates me so she got people to make my life hell and I broke down." "I don't know how you were able to put up with it for half a year." "Barely. I just put on a poker face." Levi gently grabbed your chin in between his index finger and thumb, tilting your head towards him as you saw a slight smile creep onto his lips. "Don't hide your feelings anymore," he whispered before tenderly kissing you, his eyes fluttering shut. You were taken aback before you were brought back to your senses, finding yourself kissing him back as you cupped his face with a single hand. One of his hands trailed up from your hips to your scalp, tangling his slender fingers in your tousled locks. He was the first to pull away with gleaming orbs gazing at you with affection, licking away the strand of saliva that connected his lips to yours. "I'll always be here for you. To protect you, to talk, to comfort you, or whatever else you want." "Thank you, Levi," you hummed, leaning your forehead against his, pecking his lips once more. "Come on. Let's go eat." "I don't want to go," you said with pleading eyes. "I told you that I'll be here for you. You have to eat something before you sleep." "Please, don't make me go." "Just sit with me. I'll make sure that no one does anything to you." "I can't." "You need to endure it to become stronger. I'll be right next to you, okay?."

Sighing shakily, you stood up with a nod. "Okay." "I like seeing this vulnerable side of you," Levi teased as he walked out of your room, you padding beside him. "Shut up. You aren't allowed to tell anyone about this." The Corporal only smirked as you rolled your eyes.

As you strolled through the corridors to get to the mess hall, a few people were lingering, standing on the side and snickering when you went past. You tried to ignore them, though, it was difficult. "I heard that she got Corporal Levi drunk to sleep with her." "I can't, Levi. I'm going back to my room." You proceeded to turn and walk away but he grabbed your forearm. "(Y/N)." He cupped your face with both of his hands, making you face him but you averted your eyes, feeling tears welling up. "Look at me." You reluctantly brought your eyes back to his. "She's a whore. She tried to make me have sex with her and my friend. She wanted a threesome!" "Levi, I'm going." You tried freeing yourself from his hold, but he didn't let you. "No. Look at me. Ignore them." "How am I meant to ignore them?!" "Look at me!" he commanded. "... You can ignore them if you put your mind to it. Don't let them cause you grief because then it pains me to see you hurt. I don't like seeing you in pain so don't get affected by them. Ignore them and keep your eyes on me." A tear rolled down your cheek so he embraced you tightly, stroking your back soothingly. He let out an inaudible huff, wishing he could relieve your pain. "I won't force you to go to the mess hall. Go to my office, I'll bring you food." You nodded and pulled away from his grip. When you made your way to his office, people would say or do things but you stayed strong, and you were kind of proud of yourself once you made it into his office. You sat down on his sofa, waiting for him to come back. About five minutes later, the raven appeared with a tray of two bowls, bread and two glasses of water. He settled it onto his desk after you helped him clear the surface. You both sat down and ate together, allowing him to see your smile that he was deprived of ever since people started to harass you. After years of dreaming of having a home, having someone to stay with you, they came true. You have someone strong, feisty and you're sure you'll have plenty more heated arguments to come. On top of it all, he was damn sexy.

five times geralt saw jaskier naked on accident + one time it was entirely on purpose. ~6k. Read on AO3 here!

i.

“Get back here, you mangy knob!” echoes down the hallway, and Geralt pauses on the way to his room. 

It’s been a long night, and Geralt would like nothing better than to collapse into bed, but trouble has a habit of following Jaskier like flies to shit. He’s the whole reason Geralt even has a bed for the night, so Geralt sighs and follows the shouting. 

He wishes he could say he’s surprised when he rounds a corner and Jaskier runs head first into him, but honestly, it’s nothing short of expected. What does throw Geralt for a loop, though, is the fact that Jaskier is completely naked, expanses of smooth skin exposed as he sprawls back on the ground in a very undignified manner, clutching his nose. 

“Fuck, Geralt!” he cries, but it comes out garbled. “You broke my nose!”

The man who was chasing after Jaskier comes to a sudden halt, panting in front of them. “He slept with my wife!”

Geralt frowns. “Are you sure it was him?”

The man gapes and gestures at Jaskier’s nakedness. Geralt curses Jaskier for being so obvious; it makes his job much more complicated. 

“Maybe he can give you some tips on how to satisfy her so she doesn’t feel the need to look elsewhere next time,” Geralt suggests, one hand coming up to casually rest on the hilt of his dagger strapped to his belt. 

“It’s all about the tongue,” Jaskier pipes up in a nasally tone, and Geralt rolls his eyes. 

The man’s eyes dart from Geralt to Jaskier, and back to Geralt before a look of realization crosses his face and it drains of color. “You’re… the butcher of Blaviken?”

“That’s him! So you’d best get back to your chambers if you want to keep all your limbs!” Jaskier crows, but only half of it is intelligible through the hand he’s holding to his nose. 

The man looks like there’s something else he wants to say, but he bites his lip and retreats, after one last withering glance at Jaskier. 

Geralt turns to Jaskier, suddenly very aware of his lack of clothing. “Will you ever learn?” he asks in exasperation. “I’m not always going to be around to clean up your messes, you know.”

“I’m fairly certain you have a much longer life expectancy than me,” Jaskier lisps, looking up at Geralt with doe eyes. 

Geralt sighs and sticks out a hand to help Jaskier up. 

Jaskier takes it, his fingertips lingering on the soft flesh of Geralt’s forearm, and heaves himself up. His hand stays on Geralt’s arm, and Geralt drags him back to their room. 

“Sit,” he says gruffly, rustling around in his pack for a clean rag. 

He steps over to the wash basin and dips it in before walking back to over Jaskier. He wipes the blood away from Jaskier’s nose gently, but an observer wouldn’t think so from the way Jaskier winces and groans.  

Geralt sighs. “Serves you right.”

“That’s just cruel, Geralt.” Jaskier squirms on the bed, pulling a corner of the blanket over his lap. 

Geralt resolutely focuses on his face. He squints at Jaskier’s nose, which is just the slightest bit crooked. “This is going to hurt,” Geralt warns. “One, two.”

Jaskier yelps as Geralt sets his nose back into its proper place, finishing up dabbing the blood away before he packs Jaskier’s nose full of gauze. “There,” he says. “Good as new.”

There are tears welling in Jaskier’s eyes from the pain. “I don’t know if I’d go that far,” he says weakly. 

“Maybe you’ll be able to go more than a week without cuckolding another husband this time.”

Jaskier lets out an indignant snort. “Hey, sometimes I just sleep with the husbands themselves. Then I have to watch what I eat, though,” he blathers on, and Geralt is honestly impressed with the lengths of his chatter even when Geralt imagines it must be painful to speak. “Have sex with one wrong person, and all of a sudden everyone and their mother is trying to poison you.”

Geralt’s not sure how to respond. 

Jaskier sighs and turns over in the bed. “Good night, Geralt.”

“Try not to drown in your own blood.”

“Always nice to know you care.”

And then, almost too softly for Jaskier to hear, “Good night, Jask.”

ii.

Geralt jerks awake and sits up in his bed roll. The fire is crackling happily, a far cry from the smoldering logs Geralt would have expected. He looks around, and Jaskier is gone. Normally, this would worry him, but if Jaskier took the time to stoke their fire, that probably means he hasn’t been eaten. Most likely. 

The slight chance that something untoward has happened propels Geralt out of the warmth of his blankets. He tugs on his boots and follows the faint scent of Jaskier, a warm mix of wood smoke and contentedness, these days. 

His nose leads him to the river bank, and he hovers right on the edge of the tree line, scouting for any possible dangers. He doesn’t see any, but as he does his sweep, his gaze catches on Jaskier’s bare back and lingers there. There’s a smattering of freckles that Geralt can just barely make out, until they disappear when Jaskier dunks his hair under the water. 

Geralt knows that he should stop just standing here, should either reveal himself or just slink back to their camp and start packing things up, but he finds himself rooted in place as Jaskier rubs a rag over his shoulder blades. 

Geralt is half tempted to offer his help in reaching Jaskier’s back, but he knows how that would probably be received. 

Geralt is transfixed as Jaskier begins to sing, and he sinks down to sit with his back to a tree to listen. Jaskier is always wanting his opinion on his songs, so surely he’d be fine with this, right?

It's not fair, oh, it's not fair how much I love you

It's not fair, 'cause you make me ache, you bastard

And he'll say

Oh, how, oh, how unreasonable

How unreasonably in love I am with everything you do

I'll spend my days so close to you

'Cause if I'm stood here, then I'm stood here

And I'll stand—

Geralt’s jerked out of his trance of listening to Jaskier sing in his honeyed tones by a disturbance in the water, and Geralt focuses in on the ripples that are starting to froth before a drowner emerges, its scaly skin glistening in the morning light. Jaskier screams, and Geralt leaps from his hiding spot, unsheathing his sword. 

Jaskier turns to look at the new disturbance with wide eyes, minutely relaxing when he sees it’s Geralt. Geralt jumps into the water, landing on the drowner’s back. It jerks and bucks, deceptively strong as it tries to toss Geralt off. Geralt hooks his hands around its neck, his sword gripped precariously. 

The drowner gives one last shake, and Geralt goes flying, his sword falling with a splash. There’s a clawed, webbed hand on Geralt’s head, forcing him under the water. He thrashes, trying to get free, but to no avail. Geralt keeps his mouth tightly shut, and his lungs start to burn as he continues to fight. 

Bright spots start to dance at the edge of his vision, getting darker and fuzzier now, and Geralt knows he’s right on the verge of losing consciousness. He’s unable to stop his gasp for air, but only water finds his lungs. He’s resigned himself to this being the way it ends when suddenly the grip goes lax and he’s able to propel himself to the water’s surface, gasping for breath. 

“Geralt? Geralt?” comes a worried voice, floaty and distant sounding. “Geralt, are you okay?”

There’s a pounding on his back, and water dribbles from his lips. A litany of curses follow and sharp tugs on his arm that lead him back to the bank. 

Geralt coughs and splutters, more water escaping him as he finally registers Jaskier pacing around anxiously... completely naked. Geralt chokes, and Jaskier is there in an instant, a warm hand on his back, rubbing in soothing circles. 

“You’re okay,” he croons with a gentle pat. 

Geralt doesn’t feel okay. He feels like he about died and is seconds away from doing it again via spontaneous combustion at the sight of all Jaskier’s skin on display. Geralt picks a spot on the distance and fixes his gaze on it. 

“Good thing you were around,” Jaskier says finally, and Geralt burns in shame at the thought of why exactly he was there. 

He’s lucky Jaskier isn’t running away in repulsion, like he would be if he knew the truth. 

Jaskier asks him if he’s okay yet again, and Geralt grunts. 

“Oh, goody, you’re well enough for monosyllabic conversation. Back to normal, then.”

Geralt grunts again, and Jaskier laughs, a delightful trilling thing. 

“Oh, here you go,” Jaskier says, handing Geralt back his sword that’s covered in monster guts and ichor. 

Geralt’s eyes do not bug out as the realization hits him. “You… you?”

“Well, it was drowning you! I couldn’t just stand around, now could I?”

“I...suppose not,” Geralt mutters, but in actuality, he can count on one hand the number of times someone’s actually come to his aid while he was fighting a monster. The most he can wish for is someone who won’t recoil as they patch up his wounds later. 

“Are you sure you’re alright? You’re acting a bit,” Jaskier pauses, “distracted.”

“I’m fine,” he says gruffly. 

“Well, I guess it’s not every day you have a near death experience,” Jaskier muses, “Oh, wait.”

“Maybe if I didn’t have to save your sorry ass so often.” Geralt shoves at him and instantly flushes red as his hand touches Jaskier’s bare skin and he registers again that he’s naked. 

“Put on some clothes,” Geralt mumbles, averting his eyes. 

There’s a heavy silence as Geralt waits for Jaskier to say something in response, some sort of rib, but nothing comes, just the soft swish of fabric as he gets dressed. 

Geralt grits his teeth. 

iii.

Geralt trudges down the rocky path, Roach just behind him. The trail from Kaer Morhen is downright treacherous at the best of times and fatal at worst, so Geralt would rather walk than risk Roach making a wrong step and sending them both pitching off a cliff. 

Not that that would be entirely unwelcome, after the winter Geralt has just endured. Eskel and Lambert took great pride in elbowing Geralt and making him the butt of their every joke, saying in glee that they could smell the longing drifting off of him. 

“Is Geralt in loooove?” Lambert had sang, until Geralt shoved him off his chair to shut him up. 

Lambert tumbled to the floor with a clatter of his armor, but he still wore his unbearably smug expression. Eskel had looked at him with soft eyes. “You could have brought them here, you know. I want to know whoever can make you happy.”

“Yeah, we all know how impossible that is for Mr. Melancholy,” Lambert said. 

Geralt shakes his head and puts his focus back on putting one foot in front of the other. The other witchers had endlessly pestered him about his plans for the spring, but Geralt hadn’t wanted to tell them. He likes Jaskier being just for him, and he had waited impatiently for the snow to melt in the pass. He was the first to set out, and he valiantly tried to ignore Lambert’s snickers as he left. 

Geralt is headed to Oxenfurt. He and Jaskier hadn’t made set plans to meet up, because it normally doesn’t take too long for them to accidentally on purpose run into each other, but this year, Geralt doesn’t want to wait. The winter had stretched out into much longer than normal, with biting cold and piles of snow, so Geralt is more than ready to be warm again. 

When the path finally stops twisting and turning, Geralt mounts Roach and picks up their pace a bit. It’s certainly only because he’s eager to sleep in a bed, never mind that he’s been sleeping in one all winter. 

Geralt pulls his hood up against the early spring chill and soldiers on. 

-

When Geralt finally arrives, several days and sleepless nights later, it’s just before dawn. Jaskier has always had a proclivity towards nocturnal behavior, with only Geralt’s need to be up and moving at first light tempering it, so Geralt doesn’t think Jaskier will mind the intrusion. 

Geralt ties Roach to a hitching post, promising to come back and find her a stable once the sun breaks over the horizon, and then he wanders until streets start to look familiar, and Jaskier’s cozy house comes into view. 

Geralt steps up to the door and knocks, and he definitely does not try to tame his hair into some semblance of kempt or get an anxious churning in his stomach at the prospect of seeing Jaskier again. There’s no answer to his knock, so he tries again, but Jaskier still doesn’t materialize. Geralt tries the knob, and to his alarm, it’s unlocked. 

His first thought is one of panic—what if something’s wrong? Jaskier wouldn’t just leave his door unlocked; someone could walk right in and steal his lute. Geralt opens the door quietly and creeps through the dark house. There are no immediate signs that there’s anything amiss. There are only three rooms, and Geralt eases the bedroom door open to peek inside. He’s immediately arrested by Jaskier sprawled out naked on his bed. 

Geralt takes a hurried step back, but not before his eyes dart all over Jaskier’s body. He’s just taking stock of any new injuries Jaskier might have incurred while Geralt wasn’t around to protect him from the wrath of cuckolded husbands, that’s all. Jaskier looks paler and more gaunt than he was when Geralt left him, but Geralt supposes that’s just a side effect of winter. 

Geralt retreats slowly, locking the door behind him and resolving to come back when the sun is high in the sky. 

Geralt stumbles onto the street, the early morning light making everything washed out as he scuffs his boots along the ground. He meanders back the way he came, deciding he’ll stable Roach and then see about something for breakfast. He hadn’t felt hungry in his haste to get to Jaskier, but now that his enthusiasm has been tempered, he’s starving. He tries to remember the last time he stopped to eat something more substantial than whatever he could pull out of his pack. Two, three, days ago, maybe? 

Roach comes into view, pawing her hoof against the dirt impatiently. Geratlt huffs a laugh as he walks closer, untying her reins from the hitch and clicking his tongue as he leads her in a direction that he’s getting a big whiff of horse from. 

Geralt leaves Roach at the stables, with his usual stern frown at the stable boy and a chastisement to Roach to be good as she nips at his shirt. 

Roach taken care of, he sets off to look for something to eat, wondering if it’s too soon for Jaskier to be up yet. His eyes flicker shut for a moment as he thinks of the Jaskier’s robe, and how if he goes right now and knocks on his door, he might answer wearing that and nothing else. 

Although, if he does that, even Jaskier might be able to smell the lust rolling off of him. 

Geralt sighs and continues his trudge, until he stops in his tracks and redirects his path. He looks up at the sun’s position in the sky. It’s been long enough. Surely Jaskier is wearing actual clothes by now?

Geralt walks back to Jaskier’s home, the path turning from dirt to cobblestone as he gets closer. There’s a patch of grass peeking between the stones with three orange wildflowers growing in it. Geralt stoops down and picks them without thinking too much about it. 

Geralt carries the flowers loosely in one hand down at his side. When he reaches the steps leading up to Jaskier’s door, he pauses to steel himself, to try to prepare himself for if Jaskier’s whole chest is on display in his robe, but he’s interrupted by an obnoxious throat clearing. 

Geralt whirls around to glare at the person, but he’s arrested by the sight of a man scowling right back at him. “Hope you’re not planning to bother some nice girl, Witcher. Like anyone would ever want you.”

Geralt glances down at the flowers in his hand, and then back to the man, mouth flapping uselessly. He has a point. 

“She’s probably just too scared to tell you to fuck off,” the man sneers, and Geralt’s fingers itch to pull his dagger from his belt, but he restrains himself. 

He surreptitiously looks around for a place to drop the flowers. The man is right; this is a terrible idea. What is he hoping to accomplish with this? Just to make Jaskier smile? He’s an idiot. 

A door slams open, and then, “Well, I have no such qualms. Fuck off.”

Geralt turns around to see Jaskier—and thank fuck he’s wearing clothes this time, but he’s wearing that ridiculous lavender robe, with his leg jutting out right below where it’s knotted together. Geralt desperately averts his eyes, turning back around to frown at the man, but he’s disappeared. 

He looks at Jaskier, then, drinking him in after a winter apart. Jaskier makes a pleased hum in the back of his throat. “For me?” he asks, holding out his hands for the flowers. 

Geralt hands them over without comment, but he can’t hide the smallest of smiles as he follows Jaskier into the house, Jaskier chattering away about everything Geralt missed. 

And, gods, did he miss a lot. 

iv.

When Geralt bolts awake this time, Jaskier is gone again. Geralt would be concerned that just anyone could sneak up on him while he’s sleeping, but he knows his body has started to become in tune with the sound of Jaskier and it no longer deems it necessary to rip him from his sleep for just Jaskier padding around. 

Still, Geralt wipes the sleep from his eyes and slowly gets up to start disassembling their camp. Jaskier will be back soon, and then they can be on their way. Geralt casts his eyes to the horizon, noting the first rays of morning peeking over it. 

 Geralt ambles over to where he had tethered Roach to a tree and scratches his fingertips over her neck. She headbutts his other hand, impatiently waiting for her breakfast. Geralt huffs a laugh. 

Geralt has everything packed up and he’s been leaning against a tree impatiently for three minutes when he starts to get worried. Who knows what could be in these woods? There could be any number of things looking to make a meal out of Jaskier. 

Geralt paces in a circle around their doused fire. On one hand, Jaskier could be doing something like taking a shit somewhere, but on the other hand, he might be hurt. 

Geralt freezes when he hears a faint strangled cry, and his feet are moving even though his mind has barely registered the sound. Geralt crashes through the underbrush, uncaring about how much noise he makes or the thorns that tear against his skin, until he skids to a stop in front of Jaskier. In front of Jaskier, who locks eyes with him while his cock is in his hand and comes with an aborted gasp. 

Heat burns up Geralt’s face. “Sorry, I—” he cuts himself off and flees back the way he came. 

He berates himself as he walks back to their camp. They haven’t been in a town in over three weeks, why was that not what he expected? In all honesty, that’s why he hadn’t gone after Jaskier immediately, but after he heard him shout all of the thoughts of restraint flew out of his brain. The only thing he could focus on was Jaskier needing help. 

Geralt tries not to dwell on the thought of how Jaskier’s cock had looked, flushed and jutting out proudly. Geralt pulls Roach’s brush out of the saddle bag and works her over carefully, making sure every hair is going the same way and helping her shed her thick winter coat. 

By the time Jaskier stumbles back, Geralt had thought he had managed to put the incident out of his mind, but the sight of Jaskier proves him wrong. “Ready to go?” Geralt grunts. 

Jaskier opens his mouth and shuts it with a click of his teeth. “What are we waiting for?”

Geralt swings himself up onto Roach, and doesn’t let himself look back to make sure Jaskier follows. 

v.

Geralt’s eyes crack open as the door to the inn room squeaks. He grunts in displeasure at being disturbed, and then remembers Jaskier is supposed to be with the barmaid and bolts upright. The door is just out of view from the bed, so Geralt eases himself out of bed and picks up the dagger. He creeps to where the wall juts out and then jumps out on the other side, revealing himself. 

“Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?” Jaskier laughs nervously, and Geralt sheepishly drops the dagger onto the chair as his eyes widen. 

“What is with you and always being naked?” Geralt growls in frustration, trying not to look at the creamy expanse of Jaskier’s skin, marred with freckles instead of scars like Geralt’s. 

Jaskier’s brows pull together in confusion. “What?”

“Nevermind. Just—what is going on?”

“Ah. Right. That. I got…kicked out.”

“Did she have a husband?”

“Um, yes, yes, that’s exactly right. He did not appreciate the soiling of their marital bed.”

Geralt rolls his eyes fondly even as a pang of longing lodges itself right between his ribs. He doesn’t stop to examine it for too long. 

Geralt turns his back and slips back over to the bed. The one bed, because he had thought he would be alone tonight. Geralt sighs. 

There’s a quiet swish of fabric as Jaskier pulls on some clothes. “That was one of my favorite shirts, and now it’ll probably end up burnt or some other ridiculous thing.”

The doublet in question was a gaudy scarlet thing with obnoxious gold threading and beading sewn into it. The light always caught on it just wrong to shine into Geralt’s eyes and give him a headache. “What a pity.”

Jaskier shoves at his shoulder as he clambers into the bed without a second thought. Geralt swallows hard at the dip of the lumpy mattress, at the body what so close to his all of a sudden. Jaskier’s heartbeat thuds, and a peculiar smell drifts off of him that Geralt can’t quite place. 

Geralt turns over so that he’s facing Jaskier. “What’s wrong?”

Jaskier buries his face into the pillow. The one pillow, that he tugs away from Geralt. “Nothing,” he says, heaving a dramatic sigh. 

“Hmm. Well.” Geralt pauses and tries to think of a way to respond that won’t have Jaskier calling him an emotionless boulder later. “If you want to talk about it, I can listen.”

Jaskier lifts his head up from the pillow to meet Geralt’s eyes. “Wow, I didn’t know that I was speaking to anything other than the wall when I talk to you.”

Geralt yanks the pillow out from under Jaskier and hits him with it. “Shut up.”

+ i.

Jaskier sighs as he unfurls his bedroll. He’s been unleashing heavy sighs about once an hour for the past week, and it’s driving Geralt up the wall. He’s asked Jaskier if everything was all right four separate times now, and Jaskier has brushed him off each time. 

“Jaskier, just tell me what’s the matter,” he begs after Jaskier sighs as he returns with water from the stream. 

Jaskier plops the bucket down right next to the fire, and some splashes out and douses the small smolder Geralt had got started. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls before Jaskier can even react. 

“Fine! You want to know what’s so wrong? It’s you!”

Geralt rears back, blinking rapidly. He wants to make a beeline for Roach and try to get the feeling of Jaskier’s eyes boring into his out of his mind as soon as possible, but he can’t just leave Jaskier high and dry out here all alone. Geralt shakes his head and turns away. 

“Wait,” Jaskier’s hand comes around to clamp onto Geralt’s wrist. Geralt nearly shakes him off, but then Jaskier is saying again, “Wait. That’s not what I meant.”

Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes cautiously and arches an eyebrow, waiting for an explanation. 

Jaskier rubs the back of his neck. “You know I got kicked out of that room the other night.”

Geralt grunts. “For cuckolding the husband?”

“Well, yes, but not exactly. I lied. There was no husband. Turns out some people aren’t all that impressed when you say the wrong name in the heat of things.”

“Jaskier, what does that have to do with—” 

“It’s you, Geralt,” he whispers. 

“Oh.”

Geralt is taken aback. He’s never had this happen with a human before. It’s… hard to imagine that a human could see him as anything other than repulsive, something to be tolerated just to part him from his coin. 

“And now I see that I’ve made a complete and total mess of things. I’m sorry, I’ll just—”

As Jaskier’s grip on his wrist loosens, Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand instead. “You haven’t made a mess of anything.”

Jaskier’s eyes widen before he reaches the hand Geralt isn’t holding up to cup Geralt’s face. Geralt turns his head to nuzzle into Jaskier’s hand, and Jaskier leans forward to press his lips to Geralt. Their fingers become untangled as they move on, Jaskier’s coming up to twist in Geralt’s hair, and Geralt’s stroking across Jaskier’s cheek bone. 

When they pull away, Jaskier lets out a disbelieving chuckle. “Wow. It seems like I could have saved my hand some work while we were on the road.”

Geralt rolls his eyes at Jaskier’s crudeness. 

“Come on, you know that was funny,” Jaskier wheedles into his ear. 

Geralt pushes him aside and crouches down to rebuild their fire. “You’re rarely funny.”

Jaskier claps a hand over his chest and splutters. “Okay, still incredibly rude. Nice to know some things never change, I suppose.”

Jaskier huffs and walks away, going over to feed Roach while Geralt attempts to find some kindling that isn’t damp. 

A smile tugs at Geralt’s lips. 

When the fire is roaring once again, Geralt wanders over to where Jaskier is now sitting against a tree. 

Geralt sits down beside him. “I do think you’re funny sometimes,” he admits. 

“You’ve already wounded my pride, Geralt; it’s too late.”

“And so if I offered you a… hand, you’d turn me down?”

Jaskier jerks his head up and turns to Geralt. “That is not what I said in any way, shape, or form.”

“Hmm.”

In the end, it doesn’t happen that night, or the day after that. It’s when they’re finally at an inn that Jaskier pounces on him. Geralt has barely shut the door to their room when Jaskier is on him. “I’ve been so patient,” he whines. 

Geralt raises his eyebrows, unconvinced. “All you had to do was ask.”

“Geralt, you’re impossible,” Jaskier huffs in exasperation. “Well, I’m asking now.”

Geralt kisses him, slow and sweet, and Jaskier groans his eagerness into his mouth. 

Jaskier’s fingers fumble with the clasps of his armor, until Geralt laughs and takes it off himself. When he turns back around after carefully setting all the pieces on a chair, Jaskier is already naked, and finally, Geralt allows himself to look. He drinks it in, notices the tiny scar Jaskier has on his thigh, rakes his eyes over Jaskier’s chest. He moves closer so he can comb his fingers down the hair between Jaskier’s pecs, and he preens at the attention. 

Jaskier reaches down to undo his trousers, and Geralt steps out of them. He takes off his shirt, and sheds his smallclothes, looking back up to see Jaskier staring at him. His soft expression turns into a self satisfied grin as he hums to himself. 

“What?” Geralt asks, already sure he doesn’t want to know the answer. 

“Nothing. Okay, fine, just—the carpet matches the drapes, is all.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “It’s a mutation. Do you think I would choose for it to be white? What were you expecting?”

“You’re no fun,” Jaskier pauses. “What color did your hair used to be?”

Geralt stops and thinks. “Brown, probably? I don’t remember.”

Jaskier whistles. “That’s terribly sad. Do you think your childhood would make a good ballad? I bet it would.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt grits out. 

“Okay, okay. Insensitive, I apologize.”

Geralt pulls back, but Jaskier winds his arms around his shoulders and keeps him in place. “I’m sorry,” he says again, rubbing his nose against the delicate skin of Geralt’s neck. 

Geralt shudders and lets Jaskier distract him. It’s not like his childhood is something he particularly likes to dwell on, especially when there’s something much better for him to focus on in the form of Jaskier’s swelling cock judging against his hip. 

Jaskier presses up close against him, bracketing Geralt against the door and putting his palm flat over Geralt’s heart before he kisses him again. 

Geralt lets the sensation wash over him, the pleasant feelings and the vibration that sends a thrumming through his bones. He walks Jaskier back to the bed and lays him out, crawling on top and straddling him. 

Jaskier sucks in a breath. “Gods, Geralt. You’re beautiful.”

A hot blush rises to Geralt’s face and he turns away, but Jaskier takes his wrist. 

“Don’t mock me,” Geralt mumbles. 

“Darling,” Jaskier says, sitting up and taking both of Geralt’s hands in his. “I’m not.”

Geralt doesn’t know how to respond. He looks down at his body, littered with scars, some pink and small and some, long healed, white and wicked looking. “Hmm.”

Jaskier sighs and tugs Geralt in for another kiss, before he maneuvers Geralt so he’s the one laying down. Jaskier works his way down Geralt’s body, lingering on each scar until Geralt squirms uncomfortably beneath him. 

Jaskier huffs a soft laugh as he makes it to the soft inside of Geralt’s thighs, and Geralt starts squirming for a different reason. A whine comes from the back of Geralt’s throat as Jaskier continues to ignore his cock, throbbing and painful at this point. 

Jaskier finally has pity on him and takes him in hand, making Geralt sigh and his eyes flutter shut. Jaskier jacks him quickly, bringing Geralt to the edge faster than he would like to admit before he backs off and moves his hand. He goes back to tracing Geralt’s scars, his fingertips finding the one that cut through the muscle of his leg and healed jagged and rough. 

He hovers over a different one, looking up at Geralt with a question in his eyes. Jaskier’s wheedled most of the stories of his scars out of him, but this one—Geralt huffs. “I tripped over a rock and fell right onto a very pointy root,” he admits. 

Jaskier’s lips quirk up into a grin, and Geralt is about to chastise him for laughing when Jaskier directs his attention back to Geralt’s cock. 

Geralt gasps as warm heat envelops him, and his hand comes down to tangle in Jaskier’s soft hair. Jaskier’s other hand comes up to stroke the part of Geralt’s shaft not in his mouth and scoots further back to trail his fingertips over Geralt’s balls and ghost over his perineum to his hole. 

Geralt shudders at the feeling, and Jaskier pops off of him with a wet sound. “Can I—?”

“Yes, yes, please,” Geralt babbles. 

Jaskier disappears for a moment to rummage through his pack, and Geralt tries to slow his pulse. His heart is practically trying to thud out of his chest compared to its normal steady pace, so he sucks in a deep breath through his nose. 

Jaskier returns and settles himself between Geralt’s legs. Geralt lets Jaskier position him until his knees are bent and his feet are planted on the bed on either side of Jaskier. Geralt swallows past the lump forming in his throat as a wave of vulnerability crashes down on him. 

Jaskier must be able to sense his skittishness, because he takes Geralt’s hand in his and rubs soothing circles into it with his thumb. With his other hand, he rests the pad of his pointer finger against Geralt’s hole until he slips it in, a second finger quickly joining it. 

Geralt can feel himself tensing up, but he tries to relax, tries to let himself give in and just be boneless. 

Jaskier stretches him out until Geralt whines in anticipation. Jaskier chuckles and pats his clean hand on Geralt’s thigh. “I seem to recall you saying I was the impatient one?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt growls. 

Jaskier laughs again. “Fine, fine. I truly don’t understand why people think you’re so frightening.”

Geralt could list a few reasons, but he doesn’t want to kill the mood. He just grunts at Jaskier until he finally shuffles closer to Geralt and presses inside of him. 

Geralt’s head thumps back against the mattress as he squeezes his eyes shut, adjusting to the overwhelming fullness and the way the feeling radiates through his stomach. 

Are you good?” Jaskier whispers. 

Geralt nods, one of his hands finding Jaskier’s and tangling their fingers together, while the other grips the sheets as Jaskier begins to thrust.

He starts out slow, almost too slow for Geralt to bear, each slide dragging inside of him and creating delicious friction while the head of Jaskier’s cock nudges his prostate.

Geralt hums. 

“Let me hear you,” Jaskier says into his ear. 

Geralt looks off to the side, but Jaskier puts a finger on his chin and tilts his head back. “You’ve never been shy; don’t start now.”

Geralt stays sullenly even quieter than before, deliberately slowing his breathing. 

Jaskier laughs at his obstinance. “No performance review for me?”

“Just shut up and fuck me,” Geralt says breathlessly. 

“Who am I to say no to that?” Jaskier asks, and then there’s no more talking for a while, just gasps and moans as Jaskier slams into Geralt at a pace that leaves them both panting. 

Finally, Jaskier shudders to his climax and wraps a hand around Geralt’s weeping cock to bring him over the edge with him. 

Jaskier slips out of him and collapses onto the bed beside him, draping his leg over Geralt’s thigh, his fingers meandering their way again to the forest of scars that live on Geralt’s skin. 

“You’re lovely. Do you believe me yet?”

Geralt gives an unimpressed hum. 

“Well, lucky for you, I have the whole rest of my life to make you see reason.”

Geralt likes the sound of that.

Meant To Be - Chapter 9

Dean and Jordan are each trying to escape their painful pasts. Their chance meeting and a dangerous encounter begins a relationship that may give them both a new start.

Pairing: Police Detective Dean Winchester/Jordan Taylor

Word Count: 5547

Warnings: Smutty smut 

Aesthetic by @editsbymichele on Instagram; Dividers by @firefly-graphics​ 

Jordan moved her arm, and the unfamiliar tug of the IV finished waking her from a deep sleep. Her eyes opened, focusing slowly on the figure of the man sleeping in the recliner beside her bed. Dean was sound asleep, arms flung wide, an occasional soft snore escaping his parted lips. She smiled, relieved to see him there, safe and apparently uninjured. His vest was draped over a nearby chair, his boots beside it, badge and gun still in place at his waist.

She watched him silently until the quiet whoosh of the opening door made her turn her head that way. A nurse came in, her eyes falling on the peacefully sleeping man, and she quietly made her way to Jordan’s side. “How are you doing?” she whispered, taking her wrist between her fingers to check her pulse.

“I’m good. The doctor said once this bag was gone, the IV could come out – can you do that?”

“Sure!” She worked on that, nodding her head towards Dean. “Looks like you have your own private security, huh?”

Jordan grinned. “I’m very lucky.”

The nurse nodded, her eyebrows raised in agreement. “Yeah, you are. Well, let me know if you need anything else. Doc should be here in a couple of hours, once he okays it, you’ll be able to go home.”

“Thank you,” Jordan whispered back, and the nurse walked back to the door, turning with an expression of appreciation as she glanced back at Dean, pretending to fan herself before grinning and pulling the door closed behind her. Jordan giggled softly, and Dean stirred a little, his eyes opening slowly, squinting as he tried to focus. “Hey, sleepyhead,” she teased, and a crooked smile quirked up one side of his lips.

“Hey, yourself. How are you doing?” His voice was raspy with sleep, eyes heavy-lidded, his hair mussed and adorable, and she smiled affectionately back at him.

“I’m good. Head still pounding a little, but not as bad.” She threw her covers back, swinging her legs around, and hopped off the bed, coming over to crawl into his lap.

“Are they sure, they checked you out?”

She looked into his eyes, nodding. “Cat scan, the whole works. I have a concussion, but everything else is okay. Nurse said I can go home as soon as the doc checks in.” She leaned in to kiss him, and he pulled her closer with a soft hum against her lips.

He slipped his hand just beneath the hem of her hospital gown, fingers trailing over her knee as he laid his head back and smiled at her. “Donna’s bringing some clothes for you, she’ll be here in about an hour. Then we can stop and see Sam, if you want.”

She nodded. “Yes, I definitely want.” She cuddled against him, kissing his neck before settling her head on his shoulder with a sigh. When Donna arrived, they were both asleep in the chair.

She knocked lightly on the inside of the door, and they both stirred, yawning. “Hey, Donna,” Jordan smiled sleepily, not moving from her perch.

“Hey, you two. I hated to wake you, but I think the doc’s on his way soon, anyway. How are you feelin’, hon?”

“A little headache and neck pain, but other than that, I’m ok. I was better when I woke up and saw Dean sitting here and I knew you guys were all right.”

“Oh, hell, yeah. Like they used to say on Dukes of Hazzard, we cuffed ‘em and stuffed ‘em,” Donna joked, and the girls laughed. “Of course, Dean wanted to kill the creep that had you, but…”

“Sometimes it sucks being one of the good guys,” he grumbled, and Jordan smiled down at him.

“Don’t feel bad, I kinda wanted to kill him myself,” she said, dropping a kiss on his nose before sliding off his lap. “You brought me clothes?” Donna held out a bag and Jordan took it with a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll get dressed, and then we can go see Sam?”

“That’s the plan, as soon as the doc lets you go,” Dean answered, and she stepped into the bathroom to change.

After an impatient wait, the doctor finally showed up to release Jordan, and they all headed to Sam’s room together. He was sitting up and talking quietly to Sarah when they walked in, and she jumped up to give Jordan a hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay! You must have been terrified,” she sympathized, and Jordan nodded.

“Not something I want to go through again,” she agreed, then moved over to the bed to take Sam’s hand. “I was so damn worried about you.”

Dean came around to the foot of the bed where he could see his brother. “Yeah, even on the ransom call when I demanded to talk to her, it was “I’m okay – how’s Sam?” he grinned. “And you guys have matching black eyes. Somebody needs to take a picture of this.”

“Gotcha covered,” Donna piped up, grabbing her phone. “Get down there next to him, girl, we have to capture this for posterity.”

“Just what a woman wants to do after getting shanghaied and spending the night in the hospital – get her picture taken,” Jordan sighed, rolling her eyes, but she bent down next to Sam so Donna could capture the moment, laughing as Sam whispered some funny comment in her ear. Donna held out her phone with a triumphant grin.

“It’s a keeper!”

Jordan sat next to Dean on the way home, drowsy and content with his arm around her. She looked up at him, confused, when they pulled up in front of her apartment building. “We’re not going to your place?”

Dean hesitated a moment, then turned to look at her. “Doc said nothing strenuous, lots of rest. I just thought it’d be better if you were in your own bed, and we wouldn’t be – you know – trying to do strenuous stuff.”

She giggled, shoving at his shoulder. “It’s okay, you need to get some sleep, too.”

“Yeah, and – Donna and I have a lot of statements to take the next couple of days, and paperwork to do. We’ll have to get your statement at some point, but not until you’re rested up.” He leaned in close and kissed her tenderly. “C’mon, I’ll walk you up.”

He hung around the apartment, chatting with Donna until Jordan had showered and got ready for bed, going in to kiss her goodnight before he left. It didn’t take her long to fall into a deep, dreamless sleep.

It was late evening when Dean and Donna came home the next night, and Jordan sensed tension between them as soon as they walked through the door. It had been a long couple of days, and everyone was bound to be on edge, so she didn’t ask what was going on.

“Want a beer?” she asked, and Donna shot her a tired smile.

“Not me. I’m heading for the shower and my bed, it’s been a long day.”

Dean rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, I should head out, too. Donna, we’ll talk about this later.”

She looked up at him, her voice sharp. “I’ll walk you out,” she said, and Jordan bit her lip nervously.

“Guess I’ll get ready for bed,” she said softly. “G’night, you two.” Dean was not acting normal at all, and Donna was pissed, and she suddenly wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” Dean said softly, and Jordan nodded, noting the death glare Donna was aiming his way. The obviously feuding partners headed for the door, and Jordan walked towards her room, her stomach in knots.

She had barely walked into her bedroom when she remembered she had wanted to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, so she turned and headed back that way. She closed the fridge and heard Donna’s voice raise just enough that she could hear, wishing she had stayed in her room but unable to make her feet move.

“Dean, you know how I feel. I don’t like it at all, you blindsided me with this. You have to talk to Jordan.”

“I know! I will, I just – I have to… there’s just some shit I have to figure out, think about. I didn’t plan for this to happen, at least not this soon. Not right after… I mean, really, we haven’t been together that long, but…”

“Well, you’d better figure it out, and fast. I’m not good at hiding things. And I shouldn’t have to. I wish you hadn’t even told me.”

“I’m sorry! I had to fucking talk to somebody, and I thought maybe my partner wouldn’t be such a dick about it!”

Now Dean sounded pissed, and Jordan felt sick. She rushed back to her room, afraid Donna would come back into the apartment and see her standing there. Her hands were shaking, her head spinning, memories of Darrel’s demeaning and belittling comments echoing through her mind. She crawled into her bed, curled into a ball, trying to ignore them, but they wouldn’t leave her alone. All the old insecurity she had worked so hard to recover from came flooding back, overwhelming her. It hadn’t taken Dean long to get tired of her, apparently. And Donna was upset with him because he wasn’t talking to her about it. How could she think he actually wanted more with her than a casual fling?

She hadn’t felt this small since the end of her relationship with Darrel, and she finally fell asleep, exhausted, dark thoughts haunting her through the restless night.

Jordan stayed in bed the next morning until Donna left, not wanting to see anyone. She moved through her day in a daze, unable to focus on anything but her misery. She was in love with Dean, but something had happened to change his feelings towards her. Maybe last night hadn’t been about the doctor’s orders at all. Maybe it was just the first step in distancing himself from her. And even worse, if they weren’t going to be together, how could they possibly get back to the warm, easy friendship they’d had before? Everything was such a mess, she was a mess, and there was nothing she could do to fix it.

Late that afternoon, there was a soft knock at the door before she heard the key in the lock. Dean peeked his head in, seeing her sitting there, and came in, alone. He looked nervous, and she felt that sick, hollow feeling in her stomach again, dreading what was coming.

“Hey,” he said softly. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Where’s Donna?”

“She’s at Doug’s. Wanted to give us some time to talk.”

She nodded. “Okay.”

He came to the couch, sitting down and rubbing the back of his neck before turning his body towards her. He glanced at her before he started talking, then kept his eyes in his lap, his hands fidgeting and rubbing over his thigh occasionally as the words tumbled out. “So, I’ve been kinda messed up for the last few months – I mean, you know that. When I went to South Dakota, when I met you, I was… I didn’t know if I wanted to come back to work, back to Kansas City. Anyway, while I was there, working on my car, I needed a part, and I found this little repair and body shop there. The old guy that owns it was pretty cool, we got to talking, and I told him how I grew up in Kansas working at my uncle’s body shop. He got me a beer and we just sat there and shot the shit for a couple of hours, it was the most I’d talked to anybody for a long time. When I got ready to leave, he said, ‘Dean, I’m gonna give up and retire one of these days. I’d sure like it if somebody like you would buy this place and run it like it should be run.’ Well, I told him, sure, give me a call when you do that, and I’ll see where I’m at.”

He looked up at Jordan again, then back down before continuing. “Well, he called me yesterday. And if we hadn’t just wrapped up the whole mess behind that shooting, I don’t know if I would even think about it. But – I’m burned out. I don’t love my job anymore. I really think I want out. Donna’s pissed at me, feels like I’m abandoning her or something, but – I can’t do this job if my heart and my head aren’t in it. I can cash in my pension and buy that shop, do something I used to dream about when I was a kid working for my uncle. Live in a place where you can walk down the street without worrying about getting mugged. Watch some sunsets, see what real peace and quiet feels like.”

Jordan was struggling not to cry, but her tears were winning, rolling silently down her face, and as she sniffed softly, Dean raised his head to look at her. “So - you’re leaving.” He stared at her, a stricken expression on his face at her obvious distress, his mouth open to speak, but she went on. “I mean, I get it, you’re not happy, and you don’t feel about me the same way I feel about you. I mean, Darrel always said I wasn’t enough to keep a man for long, I should have seen it coming. I should have stayed away from you in the first place.” She started to rise from the couch, but Dean reached out and stopped her with a firm grip on her arm.

“Whoa! Hey, where is this coming from? No – just... Baby, no… God, I fucked this up.” He shook his head. “Damn it, Jordan, I don’t want to leave you. I’m not leaving you. I want you to come with me. But we haven’t been together for that long, and you just got to KC, and I didn’t want you to feel like I was pushing you too fast...” He moved closer, his hands cradling her face. “Baby, I’m so sorry, I had no idea you thought that’s what was happening.”

“I heard you and Donna last night, I thought you were sick of me, I thought you wanted to leave me, and I thought that’s why Donna was mad at you, and all I could think about was the shit that Darrel used to say to me...” Dean pulled her into his arms, holding her tight and soothing her until she quieted down. Then he took her by the shoulders and moved her back, taking her face in his hands and kissing her gently.

“If it’s the last thing I do, I’m gonna erase what that asshole did to you, I don’t care if it takes me the rest of my fucking life. None of it is true. You hear me? And I’m not leaving you. If you really want to stay here, I will work through my bullshit and stay. But if you want to come with me – I told Earl I’d call him back tomorrow, let him know. I know that’s not much time, but...”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, she responded, “So, maybe I could still work for Sam, from home?”

“I’m sure you could. We can talk to him, we can go to the hospital so you can discuss it with him, if you want.”

“And we could go to Molly’s for bacon cheeseburgers and pancakes...”

“And frosty mugs of beer. Yeah. And I thought we could maybe buy a little house, and you could come and have lunch with me at the shop sometimes.” He kissed her nose, then her lips, and a smirk slowly curved his lips. “And maybe I could come home for lunch sometimes, but not for lunch, ya know?”

Jordan blushed, looking up at him from under her damp lashes. “You could.” He kissed her again, lingering over her lips, and she let out a little sigh, melting against him. Her arms slipped around his waist, handfuls of his shirt in her fists as his tongue touched her lips, then slipped between them with a moan.  

“Maybe I should stop,” he mumbled reluctantly, barely parting from her lips as he spoke, and she tightened her grip around him with a little whimper.

“Dean… it’s been two days, I’m fine, and I need you...”

He groaned, kissing her again, hard, before stopping to look into her eyes. “Are you sure? That you’re ready? Your head...”

“Please, Dean, I promise, I’m fine.” She slipped her hands underneath his shirt, moving them up his back and dragging her nails gently over his skin. “I need you to hold me, I need to feel you inside me...” She brushed her lips along his jaw line, then down to his pulse point, sucking gently at his skin, and he swore, letting her push him down. She stretched out, her body full length over his, grinding against his erection, her lips crashing down on his again. His hands gripped her ass, his hips rising up to meet her as she moaned into their kiss. She finally raised her head, panting for air, her eyes dark with want. “Maybe we should go to my room… in case Donna...”

Dean nodded, and she climbed off of him, heading to her room with him hot on her heels. He was halfway undressed by the time he reached the room, dropping his clothes in a pile before stretching out on the bed, lazily stroking his cock with one hand as he watched Jordan strip down. “C’mere, sweetheart...” he urged, and she climbed onto the bed, settling over top of him again and raising up to let him guide himself to her entrance. She wasted no time, impaling herself on him slowly, her eyes closing and head thrown back as she took him in fully, her thighs trembling beneath Dean’s hands.

“Feels so good, baby...”

She didn’t move, the sensation of him pressing into the deepest part of her making it hard to breathe, so delicious that she wanted it to last forever. Her hands fell on top of his, clutching, her eyes finally opening to meet his heated gaze. “Dean…” she whined softly, and he shuddered as she clenched around him.

“Whatever you need, sweetheart, just tell me,” he said softly, his hands gently kneading at her thighs.

“Hold me.” He raised up slowly, gathering her close against his chest, fingers trailing over her back as he dropped hungry little kisses on her lips. After a few moments, he laid back, pulling her with him, his lips ravenous on hers as she began to move her hips. She was completely lost in him, the wanton sounds muffled by their kisses making him crazy, and he clutched her tightly to his chest, wanting to feel every inch of her against him.

It was delicious torture, the slow grinding of their bodies together, and Jordan pushed herself up with a soft cry as she neared her orgasm, her nails digging into Dean’s shoulders. He slipped his hands beneath her, squeezing at her breasts before giving her nipples a gentle twist, clenching his teeth as she came, grinding down hard on top of him and quivering around his aching cock.

She dropped down, her heart pounding against his chest, and he stroked his hands over her back, soothing her with gentle whispers and kisses to her forehead. She finally tipped her head back to look into his face, an endorphin-drunk smile on her lips. “Are you good?”

“So good,” she answered with a sigh.

“No headache?”

“Dean, I’m okay. Stop worrying.”

He grinned. “Okay, but I’m taking over from here.” She raised her eyebrows at him, then let out a surprised little cry and pouted when he pulled her off of him, and he laughed as he flipped her to her back on the bed beside him. Before she could say anything, he was snugged up between her thighs and slipping back inside her, his lips silencing her pretended protests. “So, you got a problem with that?” he teased, his lips brushing over hers, and she smiled, arching up a little beneath him.

“No problems here. None.”

He tilted his hips a little, making Jordan’s eyes flutter closed for a moment, and bent to take a nipple into his mouth. She sighed, head thrown back, blissfully enjoying the waves of pleasure washing through her. Dean began to move, slowly at first, shifting his attention to her other breast with a moan as she shifted her hips to meet him. As he began to thrust faster and harder, he raised his head to look down at her, watching her expressions as he drove them higher. She opened her eyes, staring up at him with such heat in her gaze that he let out a growl, capturing her lips in a ravenous kiss, swallowing her cry as she began to come undone. “Let go, sweetheart, I’m right there with you,” he managed to say, burying his head in the slope of her shoulder as he came, everything inside him white hot and throbbing in time with his pounding heart. Jordan was still letting out soft little whimpers when he regained his senses, finally going quiet after a long shudder.

They laid quiet in each others’ arms for a time, neither of them wanting to move. Dean finally shifted himself over, laying on his side next to her, and she turned towards him, a contented little smile on her face, her eyes shining as she looked at him. He let his fingers trail over her cheek, ducking his head a little with a shy smile. “What?” she asked softly, taking hold of his hand. He shook his head with a small shrug of his shoulders, his eyes still averted.

“I don’t know. Just – the way you look at me. Makes me feel like I should, I don’t know, do something amazing for you.”

She laughed softly. “You mean like asking me to run away to South Dakota with you?”

His crooked smile grew, and he looked back into her eyes again. “No, I mean something really big. Rope the moon, slay a dragon, you know – big.”

“You wanna be my hero?”

He huffed out a laugh, blushing a bit. “Yeah. Maybe I do.”

She raised her hand to his face with a soft smile. “Well, you already are.”

“C’mere, you,” he whispered, pulling her close, kissing her with all the emotion he couldn’t express in words. After several minutes, he moved away slightly, a finger beneath Jordan’s chin to tip her head back so he could look into her eyes. “So – what do you say, should we call Earl?”

She grinned, nodding. “Yeah. Let’s call Earl.”

Jordan parked in front of the shop and smiled up at the newly edited sign. Where it used to say Earl’s, now it read ‘Dean’s Body and Repair.” It had been three months since they had moved to South Dakota, bought a nice little three-bedroom ranch with a fenced-in yard and settled in. Dean’s business had taken right off, Earl’s loyal customers staying with him thanks to Earl’s glowing endorsement, and seeing him relaxed, happy and enjoying his work made her heart smile.

It was Friday night, closing time, and Jordan glanced around, making sure no one was around to stop her for a chat when she got out of the car. The coast was clear, so she headed into the shop, turning to lock the door behind her with a smile.

Her heels clacked against the concrete floor as she made her way back into the depths of the shop, her short skirt swinging with each step. Dean was just reaching for a shop towel after washing his hands, his coveralls down around his waist, and she felt that little clutch in her belly that she always got at the sight of his shoulders, bared in the tank top he was wearing. His eyebrows raised with surprise as she approached him, his eyes roaming over her. “Hi.”

“Are you the mechanic I’ve been hearing about?”

Dean’s lips twitched as he smothered his grin. “I’m the mechanic here, yeah.”

“I was told that you’re the best body man around.”

He tilted his head back, his eyes narrowing a little. “You were told?”

She shrugged. “I hear things. I came to see for myself.”

“Okay. So – what kind of work do you need done?”

She walked slowly over towards the Impala, which was sitting in the nearest stall where it was parked after an oil change. Dean watched the sway of her skirt, swallowing hard as she twirled to lean her back against the gleaming fender. “I was hoping that you could just check things over for me, see if I need anything – touched up.” She put her arms out to her sides, hands on the car, trying not to smile as Dean’s eyes were pulled to her cleavage. “Also, I think I might have a problem with my – intake manifold? Is that what you call it? I was told that you have the perfect tool for that kind of work.”

Dean cleared his throat a little. “So, what kind of car do you drive?”

Jordan smiled. “Oh, I’m not talking about my car.”

A smirk was beginning to curve his lips as he walked towards her, stopping in front of her to look up and down her body, slow and deliberate. “Well, from what I can see, your chassis is in perfect condition. But I’d have to get hands-on to be sure.”

“That’s the idea.” Her voice sounded breathless, catching just a bit as his hand touched her thigh, slipping beneath the hem of her skirt.

“You’re a bad girl, aren’t you? That short little skirt, and no panties?”

His fingers were trailing over her hip, squeezing at her ass and then sneaking around to explore between her thighs as she struggled to speak. “I wanted to make you happy.”

She bit at her lip as he stroked his fingers over her, teasing at her clit. “Oh, I’m more than happy,” he said, his voice gravelly with lust. He brought his fingers up to his lips, sucking her flavor from them before reaching for the buttons of her low-cut blouse. “Fuck,” he growled as he opened it to see the red satin and lace bra beneath, and she moved her arms to let her top fall to the floor. “You locked the door, right?”

She nodded, unable to form words at the moment, the heat of his gaze and his touch rendering her speechless. She braced her hands against the Impala again as his fingers traced the edge of her bra, caressing the rounded flesh above the fabric, then tugging the cups down and bending to drag his tongue over a nipple. She let out a soft whine, and then his large hands grasped her by the waist and set her up on the fender before he reached behind her back and unfastened her bra, tossing it out of the way and attacking her breasts in earnest.

Finally he laid her back on the car, staring down at her, his hands roaming over her body as she squirmed, every nerve electrified at his touch. “So fucking beautiful,” he growled, moving to flip her skirt up and pull her legs over his shoulders, bending to bury his face in her pussy with a moan. Already on fire, within moments she was thrashing underneath him, her heels flying from her feet as she shouted his name, coming hard as he drove her over the edge.

Once Jordan had calmed, Dean stood and dragged his forearm over his face, then reached for her waist, lifting her from the car and setting her to her feet. Legs wobbling, she leaned against the fender, watching as Dean, his eyes never leaving her, shoved his coveralls down and unfastened his jeans. He pulled her close again, walking her to the back of the Impala before shoving all his clothing down to his knees and spinning her to face the car. He wrapped one arm around her chest, his fingers kneading at her breast as his other hand covered her sex, holding her tight as he nipped at her neck. “You know what happens when you strut in here in your high heels and short little skirt with no underwear, naughty girl?” he rumbled in her ear, and she shook her head, trembling in his hold. “You get bent over my car and fucked.” At his last word, he plunged two fingers inside her, startling a cry from her lips, his arm around her the only reason she was still on her feet. After a few well-aimed strokes, he pulled his hand free from between her thighs and pushed her forward over the trunk, growling, “Hands on the car, and don’t move.”

After he had arranged her to his liking, moving her legs farther apart and pulling her hips towards him, he lined himself up, one hand on her back to keep her in place as he slowly penetrated her, pressing forward until he was balls-deep and she was whimpering beneath him. “You okay, baby?” he asked softly, waiting for her to nod before he moved, a tiny shift of his hips that made her moan. “If you liked that, just wait.” He pulled back, the slick drag against his sensitive cock making him hiss in a breath, teeth clenched. He pushed forward again with a soft growl, fighting for control for a moment before beginning a quickly increasing rhythm, his hands gripping Jordan’s hips to hold her in place. Each thrust forced a cry from her lips, incoherent begging and long, low moans of his name, spurring him on.

He felt his balls draw up tight, forcing a “Fuck!” from him as he began to flood her with his release, driving into her hard and fast. A moment later, she arched up with a broken shout of his name, her cunt seizing around him and making him swear again, shaking uncontrollably until she dropped to the shining surface of the Impala’s trunk, her breath coming in harsh sobs.

He let go of her, supporting himself with his hand against the car for a moment, waiting for his head to stop spinning. Jordan laid there beneath him, still panting, boneless and limp. Dean stood, pulling his pants up around his waist, and lifted her from the car and into his arms. He walked to his desk chair and sat with her in his lap, cradling her close against him. “Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered, his hand smoothing over her back, dropping a kiss to the top of her head.

Jordan tilted her head back to look at him, a serene little smile on her face. “Hey.”

Dean chuckled softly. “You good?”

She sighed, snuggling back against his chest. “I’m amazing.”

“Fucking right, you are. What the hell got into you today, anyway?” He smiled down at her, hands still stroking over her silky skin. “Not that I’m complaining...”

She shrugged a little, a shy smile curving her lips. “Ever since the first day I met you, I had this fantasy of being manhandled and fucked by a really hot mechanic.”

He blushed a little, bending to kiss her, lingering over her lips for a few moments. “So, did you walk down here like that?”

Jordan giggled. “Ummmm… no. I know it’s only three blocks, but I could just see a little breeze kicking up and me walking bare-assed down the street. And besides, I was afraid Mrs. Murphy would want to stop me and talk about her cat.” Dean laughed, and she continued. “So no, my car is outside.”

“Well, good – I think maybe we’ll drive home together, I think I need to clean the Impala before I take her out. Somebody made kind of a mess on the trunk.”

“Not my fault.”

“Totally your fault.” He kissed her firmly as if to seal his winning of the argument. “So, how about we go home and shower, then hit Molly’s?”

“That is the second best offer I’ve had all day.” She reached her hand to his face, her eyes soft and searching. “You know, I was thinking. Everything that’s happened to us – if I hadn’t been running away from Darrel, and you hadn’t been trying to escape the shit in Kansas City – we never would have met each other. I think it was meant to be.”

“Oh, baby, definitely,” he said as she stretched up to kiss him again. “So – maybe we should try to find your clothes.”

“I have no idea where my shoes are. I think I kicked them off when you were eating me out like a wild man.”

Dean’s laugh echoed through the garage. “You can go home barefoot, I’ll find ‘em later. I don’t know about you, but I’m dying for a bacon cheeseburger.”

“Oh, God, yes. And a beer.”

He wrapped his arms around her for one more squeeze. “Yep. Definitely meant to be.”