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edenesth · 4 months

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The Way to His Heart [7]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 4k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Part 6 | Fic Masterlist | Part 8

"Has anyone seen the mistress?" Seonghwa inquired, having lost sight of you since breakfast that morning.

He had combed through almost the entire estate, searching for you in the House of Lotus and with Eunsook, but to no avail. He had even gone as far as to check Yunho's temporary quarters, only to find the physician alone and engrossed in his work.

The general felt a twinge of embarrassment as he recalled asking the doctor, "Do you have any clue where my wife is?" only to have the taller man furrow his brows in confusion and reply, "Wha— not to be rude, but how would I know that, my lord?"

Your husband cleared his throat loudly, looking away and feigning nonchalance, "Don't get clever with me; I'm just asking. If you don't know, just say so."

Yunho lowered his head and suppressed a laugh, "You're right. My apologies, my lord. I hope you find Lady Park soon. Her next dose of medicine is almost ready. It would be best if she takes it while it's hot; the taste is slightly more bearable."

"Right, I'll find her soon. Don't worry."

The physician nodded, "I have no doubt that you will, my lord."

With that, Seonghwa hastily exited the room, questioning his decision to come there in the first place. He couldn't fathom why he assumed you would be with the handsome doctor. Even though he hadn't found you yet, there was a sense of relief in knowing that at least you weren't anywhere near Yunho, as he had feared.

And that's how he ended up back at your quarters, interrogating the servants responsible for maintaining your garden. A frown etched on his face as they shook their heads in response, "No, master. Mistress hasn't returned here since leaving for breakfast this morning."

Worry crept in as his mind conjured up wild scenarios. What if you had been taken away? What if you got hurt somewhere, unnoticed by anyone? What if—

His eyes landed on the pavilion in your garden, and it struck him. Remembering your determination to learn lady etiquette, he chastised himself for not thinking to check his own study. He had searched almost every corner of the estate except the very place he frequented the most.

Please, let her be there.

Fingers crossed, he hurried towards the study. If he didn't find you there, he might have to organise a search party.

"There you are."

His words escaped in a breathless whisper as he spotted you standing amidst his numerous shelves, completely engrossed in the book cradled in your hands. Instant relief washed over him, and he struggled to look away. Bathed in sunlight by the window, you appeared almost ethereal in that spot, your side profile captivating.

The marks on your skin had started to fade a little, with the help of Yunho's ointment, proving its effectiveness. For your comfort, the maids were instructed not to apply makeup if you weren't leaving the estate. Besides, no one here would dare consider you anything less than beautiful; you were adored by all. Your scars only strengthened everyone's determination to protect you, not just your husband.

He continued to quietly admire you from his corner, hesitant to disturb you. As you finished one book and reached for the next on a top shelf, he chuckled at your determination, especially when you went on your toes, biting your lip in concentration.

Eventually, he sighed and approached you, reaching effortlessly for the book you were attempting to get. You gasped as you felt his presence and saw his hand beside yours, "Y-you're here, Seonghwa."

Both your breaths hitched, and your eyes widened as you turned around to face him, realising the closeness. Surprised, you stumbled backwards, and his reflexes kicked in, his arm circling your back immediately, pulling you close. Frozen, your hands rested on his chest to steady yourself.

"Yes, I'm here." He murmured, his eyes shifting to see you biting your lips shyly again, the action reigniting his desire to kiss you. You stood still as a plank, heart pounding as he slowly closed the space between you. You held your breath when feeling his nose touch yours. Never having been kissed or wanted in your life, you didn't know how to react or what to do. Was this what married couples normally do?

Maybe now you'll find out.

A chill ran down your spine when you felt his lips brush lightly against yours, "Can I..." He muttered in his deep voice, gazing down at you with hooded eyes.

Before you could form a response, the door to the study slammed open, startling the two of you, and causing you to jump apart as if caught doing something scandalous.

Damn it, so close!

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry, sir! I didn't mean to interrupt; it's just that—" Jongho was a mess as he stumbled in, panting and sputtering his apology.

You quickly waved to the assistant to signal it was fine before bowing to the general, "No, please, don't worry! I was just leaving anyway. I'll see you at dinner, Seonghwa."

Smiling at you, your husband nodded, "Yes. See you, my dear," The smile disappeared as soon as you left the room, causing Jongho to gulp nervously, "This better be good."

The assistant quickly collected himself, "Oh, it will be good, sir. I can promise you that." He said, rushing to make sure the doors were shut tightly before going back to debrief his master on his latest findings.

Eunsook heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing you, her concern evident as she observed you pressing your palms against your red cheeks, "Mistress, are you feeling alright?" She inquired, checking your forehead for any signs of fever.

You nodded, "I-I'm fine," attempting to calm your rapid heartbeat. The almost-lost moment with your husband lingered continuously in your mind; your first kiss had come perilously close to happening just moments ago.

"Thank goodness, you're alright. We've been looking everywhere for you. Where were you?" She questioned, and you replied, "You were looking for me? I was just reading in Seonghwa's study."

The elderly woman continued, "Yes, your medicine is ready. Physician Jung suggested taking it while it's hot," With an obedient nod, you followed her into your room. As she fed you the herbal soup, she casually asked, "You were in the master's study, you say? Did he find you there? He was searching frantically for you."

Your blush returned as you recalled the sensation of his lips brushing against yours, "Y-yes, he knows I'm safe. Don't worry." You reassured her while the head maid beamed, unaware of the fluttering in your heart as you tried to compose yourself.

Unlike you, the general did not have the luxury to linger on thoughts of your intimate moment. He vowed to himself that once your family received the retribution they deserved, he would dedicate all his attention to you. He turned serious the moment Jongho began speaking, updating him on the latest intel gathered about your family.

"What? Do those fools actually believe I'd swap my wife for one of them? Not even in their wildest dreams will that ever happen." Seonghwa scoffed in disbelief. The mere thought of your stepsisters was enough to repulse him, and he couldn't wait to send them to an early grave.

He pulled out the Jang family records again, asking, "And as for this... are there any updates? We only have a few days left until I return to work."

Jongho nodded proudly, presenting a couple of documents obtained in a not-so-honest manner, "You were right, sir. Your suspicions were accurate. We found just the thing to prove it. With this, we can finalise the plans and finally set them into motion."

"Good job, Jongho. How about that private investigator of yours?" The general inquired, his mind already buzzing with excitement as he plotted your family's demise.

The assistant bowed in gratitude, "He's still maintaining his cover in the Jang estate. He expressed his desire to assist us with the plan. Apparently, he's a huge admirer of yours, sir. That seemed to be his primary motivation for readily accepting my offer."

Seonghwa narrowed his eyes, his mistrust evident, "Is he now? Have you done a background check on him?"

"I have, sir. He's in the clear; I can vouch for him. I'm confident he harbours no ulterior motives other than a genuine admiration for you; he wants nothing more than to be recognised by you."

The general nodded, picking up the newly retrieved documents, "If you say so, I guess it won't hurt to have an extra helping hand. Make sure to pay him handsomely. Now, go get some rest; we'll be getting busy soon." His heart was immediately eased by his aide's assurance. If Jongho trusted this person, there must be a good reason.

"Yes, sir."

In the days that followed, Seonghwa appeared awfully busy, often confined to his study with Jongho for endless meetings. The next morning, you found a collection of your lady etiquette books delivered to your doorstep, with a servant mentioning that the study was required for important discussions between your husband and his assistant.

Assuming he was loaded with work after taking several days off, you didn't dwell on it much. While the general focused on perfecting his plans, you spent your days refining your etiquette with the head maid's help, working on correcting your posture, walking, table manners, and way of speaking.

The two of you only had brief encounters twice a day, during breakfast and dinner. Seonghwa apologised repeatedly, promising to spend more time with you once he completed his current project, and you reassured him that you were fine.

Time passed quickly, and before you knew it, a new week had begun, marking your husband's return to work. After your customary breakfast together, you walked him to the entrance of the estate, where his carriage awaited to transport him to the palace for the morning assembly with His Majesty, the King.

"This is as far as you'll see me off. It's cold out here, so don't spend too much time outdoors, okay? Head back to my study if you want, and take your medicine on time." He reminded sweetly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You smiled appreciatively, assuring him, "I will, Seonghwa. Don't worry about me. Have a good day at work." His heart melted at your words, and the sense of being husband and wife settled in. Having someone waiting for him at home felt unexpectedly warm, and he realised he could get used to it.

That's right, just keep smiling like that.

Rubbing his thumbs over your hands, he pressed a kiss onto your knuckles, saying, "I'll see you later, my dear."

Eunsook and Jongho exchanged knowing grins as they guided their master and mistress in opposite directions—Seonghwa into his carriage and you back to your quarters.

Carrying you in his thoughts, the general commenced his journey to the royal palace. He had always harboured disdain for the Minister of Military Affairs, but it had never been potent enough to instigate his downfall. However, circumstances had taken a drastic turn with your arrival. Your father had gravely miscalculated if he believed this union between you was a wise decision; in reality, it paved the way for his own undoing.

Unfazed by the attention, he arrived at the assembly, becoming the centre of attention for all the ministers and officials. Their curiosity was stirred by the general who had adamantly refused marriage, yet now found himself wedded against his will. Speculation abounded about whether he would cause a scene, as all members had been notified of his special agenda.

Your husband, however, remained unaffected by the scrutiny. He anticipated the spotlight, fully aware that these old fools relished nothing more than witnessing his misery. Despite his recognised achievements, it didn't automatically translate into wholehearted acceptance from these higher-ups. Their displeasure was palpable, harbouring reservations about his young age and the potential threat he posed to their established ranks.

The revelation of his marriage to you only fueled their satisfaction, as they believed that being tied to the Minister of Military Affairs would ensure Seonghwa's perpetual subordination, always a step below his father-in-law in rank.

"Good morning, General Park. You seem to be in quite a good mood." Your husband felt his eye twitch, hearing the voice he wasn't looking forward to.

Speak of the devil.

Facing your father, he smirked, "Good morning, Minister Jang. I can't deny that I am feeling quite good." It satisfied him to see your father's grin falter slightly, knowing the old man probably didn't know what to expect, but it surely wasn't this. The last thing they all expected was for him to appear... pleased.

Before the minister could voice any questions, the King entered the hall. Along with everyone else, the general knelt and bowed deeply, performing the formal greeting. In unison, they chanted, "Your Majesty, may you live a long and prosperous life. We wish for you ten thousand years of life and reign."

"You may all rise," declared His Majesty before expressing joy at the presence of his favourite subject, "Seonghwa, my boy! You're finally back! Oh, I cannot wait to hear all about your week off."

The minister raised a smug brow, eyeing your husband and presuming that his week could not have been too pleasant with you around. While he was almost certain of that, it seemed the general was adept at keeping up the act. Your father eagerly anticipated hearing about this important agenda without delay.

"Tell me, my boy. Is your wife as beautiful as we all speculated? There must have been a good reason for the minister to keep her so well hidden all these years." The King inquired, his excitement evident as he leaned forward in his seat.

Seonghwa chuckled, "Your Majesty, perhaps it wouldn't be too appropriate for us to engage in idle chatter in this meeting. After all, I'm sure all the ministers and officials here have more pressing matters to discuss and probably care little for the details of my marriage." He was merely teasing at this point, knowing full well that everyone was eager to hear about his past week.

"Nonsense! What could possibly be more important than your recent wedding? If anyone here has no interest in what General Park has to share, you are welcome to leave the assembly."

While leaving the assembly might seem like a simple option, it practically equated to a death sentence. Without the King's explicit permission, no one would be allowed to exit on their own. This implied that whoever refused to listen to what your husband had to say might as well be choosing a path leading to their demise.

All the higher-ups immediately bowed their heads low with clenched fists as they voiced in unison, "Of course not! We wouldn't dare, Your Majesty!" They were well aware of Seonghwa's subtle assertion of power over the King. Regardless of their high positions or ranks, he would always be the favourite. While it might go unnoticed by the less perceptive, it was a clear demonstration of authority, a warning not to cross him.

"Very well, I suppose I'll divulge a bit about my wife since you're all so eager to hear about her," The general couldn't conceal his shit-eating grin, pleased to have put these elderly men in their rightful places. The King applauded enthusiastically, "Please do!"

Minister Jang's earlier arrogance evaporated with your husband's unmistakable show of power, and he could only suppress his irritation as he waited to hear what Seonghwa would say about you.

"To answer your question, Your Majesty, she is even more stunning than you all might imagine, perhaps the most beautiful woman in all of Joseon, both inside and out, at least in my eyes. And you were right, my King, she truly is perfect for me. For that, I'd like to express my gratitude for sending her to me."

The entire room stood at a standstill as everyone tried to process his words. It was almost surreal that the formidable General Park, who had always been so adamant about never marrying and was coerced into this union without a choice, openly expressed his admiration for his new wife. Apart from the King, who genuinely relished hearing it, the rest of the assembly remained sceptical, wondering what game Seonghwa was playing.

"And because of that, I regret my earlier decision of not having a proper wedding ceremony. I now know my wife deserves only the best, which brings me to the important matter I'd like to address today, Your Majesty. I was hoping you would grant me permission to fix that. I'd like to plan a grand wedding to make up to her."

Your father narrowed his eyes dangerously; this was the furthest thing from what he had expected. He would rather die than give you a grand wedding. He thought he was finally done with you, believing you could have perished for all he cared. Yet, here your husband was, requesting to host a grand wedding? And for you?

Over my dead body.

His Majesty couldn't contain his joy, letting out a surprised laugh, "Oh my, Seonghwa! I'm so proud of you; I was beginning to grow worried you'd never allow yourself to love again. And of course, you can have a grand wedding! We shall host one as grand as a royal wedding if need be! Heavens, I cannot wait to meet this new Lady Park of yours; she must be something for you to have changed this much!"

Minister Jang cleared his throat, "Your Majesty, if I may cut in."

The King nodded, "Why, of course. It's your daughter we're discussing; do you have any ideas for the ceremony?"

Your father shook his head, "N-no, my King. I was hoping to remind the general that my daughter prefers simplicity and that this would not be necessary—"

With a smirk, Seonghwa cut him off, "Well then, minister, it would seem you do not know your daughter well enough, or at all."

The Minister of Military Affairs stilled at that; obviously, the general knew more than he let on, "Wha— that's not true! My eldest has always been one for frugality and would never ask for much, let alone a grand wedding; she might find that burdensome."

"Has she really not asked for much, or has she not been permitted to have a voice at all?" Your husband pressed, watching expectantly as the minister sputtered lame excuses, caught off guard.

Not oblivious to the fact that Seonghwa was attempting to convey something, the King raised a brow at Minister Jang's defensive demeanour, "What is it that you wish to say, my boy?"

Panicked, your father gulped, afraid of what the general might reveal. Not once did he think the heartless General Park would ever care about what happened to you. He assumed that, just like all the members of his family and estate, your new husband would also cast you aside and not bat an eyelash if you died, as had happened with all his previous marriage candidates.

"Your Majesty, even though Minister Jang is now my father-in-law, I feel compelled to speak out against the injustice I perceive for my wife," The minister did not dare to look up as he felt cold sweat dripping down his back, listening anxiously to what Seonghwa was going to disclose, "No matter how much he thinks she prefers simplicity, it just wasn't right for him to have sent her to me all alone on our wedding day."

With a frown, His Majesty eyed your father judgementally, "All alone? Please elaborate, Seonghwa."

Suppressing his sly grin, your husband continued, "My assistant found her wandering all by herself by the entrance of my estate, without a chaperone, any servants or palanquin bearers. And what's worse, she barely had anything on her, only carrying an empty duffel bag. Tell me, Your Majesty, who would believe her to be a noblewoman from a powerful house? I simply cannot understand why the minister could do this to his precious daughter."

"Is that true, Minister Jang?" The King's emotionless voice rang across the hall, and the minister shivered from the chill running down his spine, "W-well, yes, but—"

Everyone jumped when His Majesty slammed his fist against the handle of his throne, "That is simply unacceptable! It doesn't matter how much you insist your daughter favours simplicity; what you've done is completely ridiculous. Can you even call yourself her father? Oh, the poor girl."

Your father bowed all the way down immediately, pressing his forehead against the floor as he begged for forgiveness, embarrassed to have his wrongdoings exposed at assembly for everyone to listen like this, "Please, Your Majesty! Forgive this old fool for taking my kind daughter for granted! I will do anything to make up to her as you wish, a grand wedding if you will."

As if seeking Seonghwa's approval, the King looked at the general, "Would that suffice?"

Shrugging, your husband pressed his lips into a line, "I suppose I do have one condition, though," His Majesty nodded, "Name it."

The general smiled, "I've troubled you enough with concerns regarding my marital matters, Your Majesty. For this wedding of mine, I'd like to personally make the arrangements with the minister and his family, preferably at his estate."

"At his estate and not here? Why is that, Seonghwa?" The King asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"I just want to see where my beloved wife spent all her childhood; I'm curious about the environment that made her so precious."

As the King showered praise on your husband for his apparent sweetness and saw it merely as Seonghwa being hopelessly in love with you, Minister Jang knew better than that he had an ulterior motive, and it couldn't bode well. The general clearly has something up his sleeves, but in the presence of His Majesty, your father found himself with little choice but to comply.

What do you want from me, Park Seonghwa?

« Preview of Part 8 »

"What?! A grand wedding for that useless thing? Oh, you've got to be kidding me!" Jinah screeched, her frustration evident as she pulled at her hair.

Jinhee, in disbelief, glared at your old prison cell of a room from a distance. Servants had been ordered to fill it up with things to make it seem like a storeroom in preparation for Seonghwa's visit, "Maybe we've underestimated her. It seems she actually got the general wrapped around her finger."

Minister Jang had nothing to say except to hold his head in his hands. He couldn't forget the King's disapproving looks directed at him all throughout the assembly after what your husband had revealed. Not just His Majesty; but even the other ministers and officials had been staring at him weirdly, not understanding him for what he did to his own daughter.

Jinjoo stomped around like a brat, "Father, you promised us that marrying her to him would bring us satisfaction! What the hell is this?! I refuse to accept this!"

Having had enough of their whining, the minister threw the wine glass beside him onto the floor, "Be quiet, all of you! Do you honestly think the wedding is what matters now? My position could very well be in danger, and you care about that? Fools! Get out of my sight!"

The three were taken aback by the minister's unexpected fit of anger, and their mother quickly gestured for them to leave the living hall at once. Once they were gone, Lady Jang sat down beside her husband, "What is it, dear? What's wrong?"

"Park Seonghwa knows something, I'm sure of it. He said some things today that could make me look suspicious, and if anyone starts digging around, I fear they might find out what we've been trying to hide..."

Woohoo, shit's about to go down! Are y'all excited? HAHAHA🤭

I'm also shook that I'm like 20 followers away from reaching 1k! Thank you all so much; I just want you to know that it's your encouraging messages and replies that have been motivating me to update as quick as I can, really appreciate it!

As always, hope you enjoyed and let me know all your thoughts! <3

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Tag list (2/2): see comment/reply section

#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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strawurberries · 1 year

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Stretchmarks

Summary: Vash learns about those little markings he's seen on his lover, and oh God does he fall head over heels.

Authors Note: This is written with Tristamp! Vash in mind, and this idea was sparked by this post :) This is written as a fem! reader. I hope you all enjoy! (Also, here's your tag @blackkiwi! I hope you like it :) I went in a bit of a different direction so I might revisit this idea in the future!!)

Warnings: Mild nudity, sexual themes, self-hate.

Vash didn’t understand it—how could someone so beautiful, holding something so unique and precious, hate themselves and their markings? He felt bad for staring, he really did, but the damp air from the shower seemed to settle around her, water droplets becoming stars and her eyes morphing in a galaxy of possibilities. She, though, didn’t seem to understand his awe. All she saw was the man she loved staring at a part of her she didn’t hate, per se, but rather didn’t love completely. He knew he should’ve looked away, apologized and let her know that he was stunned with adoration, not disgust. Yet he didn’t. Like the fool he was, and always will be, he didn’t have the bravery to confess.

“Ah, sorry,” with a nervous grin she had tried to cover her hips, where the most prominent of her stretch marks were. “I didn’t know you were coming back so soon.” She grabbed her things and shuffled back into the bathroom, wearing only her underwear and a towel loosely draped over her shoulder, “I was just getting my clothes.” With a quiet click, the bathroom door shut and the room was plunged into a somber darkness.

Idiot, he bit at himself, why did you just stare? The patterns though, those curlings lines and loveable little dots and spots, it reminded him of himself; when he looked in the mirror and saw his face staring back, covered in blue lines that marked him as alien, foreign. Was she. . . like him? He turned to look at the bathroom door, listening to the quiet rustling within. No, he thought, she’s human. But there was something so remarkable about those lines, he couldn’t stop thinking.

Like me, she’s like me.

Later they sat in their shared room, the silence acting as a tyrant, holding its grip tight and solid over the melancholic atmosphere. Neither one had spoken since she had retreated to the bathroom an hour earlier; she being silent out of fear and embarrassment, and he out of nervousness and curiosity.

After finishing getting ready for the night, she laid in her bed across the room. Vash, on the other hand, was sitting criss-crossed in his, staring at his fumbling hands.

“You know,” he said, cringing at the abruptness of his voice, “I think you’re really pretty.”

She shuffled slightly in bed, blankets falling off her shoulders, “thank you, I appreciate it. You’re pretty as well.”

He blushed at the compliment—thump, thump, thump, beat his heart. It roared at him to confess, to open his mouth and say everything he wanted too. He didn’t. He fiddled with his hands and lightly tapped his cheek to cool the scorching redness that had overtaken him. “Earlier,” his voice was quiet, a pip-squeak of a noise, “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“It’s okay.”

He started to disengage his prosthetic arm, small clicks and whirs making the silence seem louder than before. “I—” he gently set his arm on the ground beside his bed, rubbing the raw and sore flesh. He didn’t often sleep without his arm, for a fear of being attacked in the middle of the night, but his body couldn’t handle it much longer. It pulled and gnawed on his shoulders, making his entire body ache with a pain he can only describe as deafening. “I hope I didn’t hurt your feelings, but if I did, I apologize.”

She finally turned over, watching as he hopelessly stared at her with a twinge of fear and. . . something else she couldn’t describe. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” she smiled softly, “I was jus’ thinking.” She could never be mad at him—not that she was mad at him in the first place, in fact, she had only felt mild embarrassment towards the whole situation. The day had been long, and even if he hadn’t caught her getting out of the shower, she would’ve been quiet and exhausted—, and looking at him now only made her feel like she was gazing at a kicked puppy.

He tilted his head, “about what?”

“My body,” she huffed and sat up, “you know those days?’ Her voice was a little quiet, less teasing than it usually was, and so, painfully somber.

He understood. Sometimes he’d sit out in the desert, watch the sunset and wonder why he felt so unnatural; as if he wasn’t a person, but a thing occupying space in a body that didn’t belong to him. And sometimes he’d cover up mirrors with his coat, afraid to look into them and see what he really looked like. And other times he’d look down at himself and shove back the tears because he was a mural of pain and he wouldn’t have it any other way but God, did he wish there were other options. And sometimes he’d simply lay in bed and think about everything he hated about himself, starting with his personality and then moving on to his actions, and then he’d think about his body and then he really felt the pain because he belonged to this prison of flesh and bone, this sacred thing, and he had managed to decimate it in so many ways it would never be able to recover. And, sometimes, he hated how he looked because she deserved better. And sometimes he, without any reason really, despised the man he was, and the way he looked. So, yes, he understood those days. He understood better than anyone really; and it made his heart hurt thinking she had felt the same way.

In his eyes she was the most beautiful thing. She rivaled the stars, the ones he watched on that ship all those years ago. The greenery of flora and the nature of Earth couldn’t even compare. And even if some Goddess was to descend from the heavens, bearing all her glory and luxury at her bosom, he would deny it and find himself back in her arms. In his eyes, she was worth everything and more.

He stumbled over to her bed, momentarily forgetting himself as he slammed into the mattress with an abundant lack of grace and caution. “I get it, I do,”

She blinked at him.

“Somedays I–I hate myself and sometimes I can’t even look in the mirror, and really almost everyday I can’t even look at myself,” he forgot he had taken his prosthetic off, trying to grab her face with his hand. He paused and cursed a little under his breath, stub awkwardly hanging between them. “I forgot I took that—okay whatever,” he used his other hand to grab her face, fingers tracing her jaw, “but you know what makes me feel better about myself?”

She huffed a little and laughed, crossing her arms. “What?” she asked playfully.

“You.”

She smiled softly, “I’m glad I can help.” A little sliver of anxiety still rested in her eyes.

He took a deep breath and steeled his resolve. “Yeah, so, let me help you this time,” he sat back on his knees, suddenly realizing how close he was. “If–if that’s okay. . .?” All his confidence, his burning determination to help, dissipated into the air and floundered about his mind in a wave of unease and mild embarrassment.

She glanced down at herself, thumbing the edge of her shirt before nodding, “alright,” she wrapped her arms around his neck, “you’ve convinced me.” She gave a nervous smile, one unsure of what was going to happen but trustful in the one before her—she had no doubts that he would keep her safe, happy, and comfortable.

He let out a goofy grin, slowly pushing her back onto the bed, “okay so um,” he stared down at her, blushing a delicious red as he slowly came to understand what position they were in. Her arms were slightly settled to the side, hands above her head and chest slowly rising with each suspenseful breath. Utterly divine, was the only description he could think of. “Uh, could you. . uh, take your shirt off, maybe?” He wanted to cry when he realized his voice had cracked—uncool, so uncool.

She laughed, “alright, what are you really trying to do?” She grabbed the ends of her shirt and whisked it off, tossing it somewhere in the room. Neither of them really cared where it landed.

He waved his hand in the air and panicked, “no! No! I promise I’m not trying to do anything like that unless you want that—or, I mean, not right now! Uh, sorry!” His hands slapped over his face, covering the vague blue markings that had begun to peak through his skin.

She let out a boisterous laugh and grabbed his hips, lovingly drawing circles into his skin, “calm down, I was joking, pretty boy.”

The tips of his ears turned red, nearly drowning out his wonderful, brilliant blue, “pretty boy,” he mumbled. “Where’d that come from?” he squeaked out.

“Jus’ tellin’ the truth,” she hummed, “now, why is my shirt off?”

“Oh!” his hands flew off his face and came to settle on her torso, nervously pressing into her skin. “I wanna—well, can I see your markings?” he leaned a little closer, tempted to put his forehead to hers, but he was too scared—what if she knows what that means? What if she hates doing that? What if she hates me?

“Markings?” she raised an eyebrow, “what do you mean?”

“On your hips.”

“Hips?”

He gently hooked the edge of her pants, looking up at her for permission and when she gave it, he pulled them down slightly, revealing the little lines he had been so obsessed with earlier. Despite everything in him trying to keep his smile back, he couldn’t. “These,” he mumbled, tracing the marks with his fingers. His markings, no longer dull and scared, flowed to the surface of his skin and danced along his fingers. “They’re really pretty.” He wanted to see them in their entirety, observe how they rested along her skin and how they intertwined with one another—that would require less. . . clothing, and the thought made him blush madly, making his markings blink a bright blue for a moment.

She grabbed his hand and gave him a questioning look, “they’re not markings, they’re stretchmarks.”

He tilted his head.

“It’s like. . . little scars from when our skin stretches or shrinks too fast,” she smiled somberly, “they’re not as precious as your markings.”

He huffed and went back to caressing her skin, “I still think they’re amazing.”

“Not many people do,” she closed her eyes and savored the feeling of his touch, “so I appreciate it. Thank you.”

He hesitated and pulled his hands back, “do you. . . do you have more?”

She hummed.

“Can I see them? If that’s okay with you?!”

She sighed and opened her eyes, “you love them that much?” A slight bit of hesitance, disbelief.

A child-like joy seeped into his voice, “yes! They’re like mine, but they’re so much prettier.”

She blinked, a small embarrassed expression coming to rest upon her face. “I mean, if you really want, I can show you.”

He grinned excitedly and sat patiently on the bed as his lover slowly shimmed out of her pants, leaving them hidden by only two, thin articles of clothing that covered barely anything (not that he minded, but he was trying his hardest to focus on the markings solely—he didn’t want to be a creep. He was also trying to ignore the fact that this was only the third time he had seen her so vulnerable before. It made his heart soar, thinking that she trusted him so). After a moment, she returned back to bed and presented her thighs, where stretch marks were painted across her skin like a mural of heaven. “Here’s some more. They’re mostly on my legs and hips.”

“Oh,” he breathed out, “they’re a lot prettier up close.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead to her legs, closing his eyes. For a moment, he could’ve sworn he felt her very soul, as if he was connecting to a plant, and he shuddered out a sigh. “So, so, pretty.” He was lost in her now, gently tracing his fingers along her skin, nose buried into the side of her leg and he cherished every giggle and breathy laugh that came from his lover.

“I never knew you’d like ‘em so much,” she tangled her fingers in his hair, tugging slightly when he got a little too dazed and trailed his head up further than he should’ve.

He kissed the inside of her thigh, “they’re so. . . you’re so beautiful.”

She smiled softly, “you are too.”

The compliment flew over his head, focused solely on the Goddess before him. The divinity that had graced his presence. He sloppily kissed her thigh again, trailing his love up and up and—

She tugged on his hair, “hey,” she warned, “you’re getting a little too close there, pretty boy.”

He stared up and blinked, chin settled in between her legs and nose dangerously close to the bottom of her underwear. It took a moment for him to come back to reality, realizing that he was in a position he’d only dreamed about. “Oh,” he blinked again. “I’m sorry!” he shot up and rested back on his knees. With her hand still in his hair, he was slightly bowed forward, eyes deliciously plastered to her legs.

“Don’t apologize,” she whispered, “you’re fine.”

He whined a little, “I made you uncomforta—”

“When did I say that?”

He peered up at her through his eyelashes, watching her coy smirk expand into a sly smile. He stumbled over his words and quickly decided it would be better to shut up. What’s happening? Wasn’t she supposed to be yelling at him? Ashamed he had given into his desires a little too much? This was supposed to be about her, and how wonderful she was. Not him and his inability to hide his lustful curiosity.

“In fact,” she tugged on his hair a little more, forcing him to crawl halfway on top of her to stop the dull pain in his scalp—he really didn’t mind it though, which made him rethink some things about himself. “I really enjoyed it.”

His markings glowed so bright, she had to look away for a moment. She snickered and brought one hand to his chin, the other leaving his hair and slowly trailing down his chest. “If I’m being honest,” she sighed, “I didn’t really like my stretch marks. They’re ugly and gross, but,” she stopped trailing her hand down when she got to the hem of his pants, “you made me feel better about them.” She smiled.

“I’m glad!” he nervously grinned and tried to adjust himself so the position would be less. . . intimate, but she didn’t let him. Part of him was begging her to do something, and the other part of him was screaming with fear and embarrassment so loudly he almost didn’t hear what she said next.

“So,” she drawled out, “if it’s okay with you, can I help you feel good?”

“What?” he squeaked. “Like–what? What does that mean?” Oh my god, he cried to himself, I’m an idiot! He beat down a whine that threatened to erupt from his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut. He wanted the ground to swallow him up and never let him go.

She wrapped her legs around his waist and pressed herself into him, hips bucking up and creating a delicious friction. He sucked in a strangled gasp and let his face fall into the crook of her neck, “sen–sensitive!” he cried. He gripped her waist, fumbling for a moment before once again realizing he had taken his prosthetic off. Vaguely he wondered if he should put it back on, but she bucked again and all thoughts fell out of his mouth as he cried.

“What do you say?” she purred, “up for a little fun?”

“You’re a,” he panted and ground his hips into her, muffling his moans in her flesh, “a tease.” He shouldn’t be doing this, should he? Should he have asked before he pressed himself into her, or was that normal? He didn’t know what he was supposed to be doing here.

“C’mon pretty boy, I have to hear a yes,”

“Y–yes!” He whined and ignored the blue light that bathed them both—this is so embarrassing.

“Good boy.”

He squeaked and buried his face deeper into her neck, “oh my god.” This was going to be the death of him—not that he really minded.

#vash #vash stampede #vash trigun #trigun vash #vash the stampede #vash 98 #tristamp #vash x reader #vash x you #vash x y/n #trigun x reader #trigun x you #trigun x y/n #vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash the stampede x y/n #trigun #Strawberry writes

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simp4eshal · 2 months

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Silent treatment

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!reader

warnings: none. fluff. prolly incorrect things abt the movies. a lil angst

He hadn't meant to embarrass you. He just wanted to get your attention. But when he pointed out that you'd forgotten to put your lightsaber away after the training session, he hadn't expected the entire group of Jedi to turn and stare at you. Your cheeks flushed a bright shade of red as you realized your mistake, and he could feel his own face heat up too. You didn't even look at Anakin as you sheepishly hung your lightsaber back up on the rack.

Instead, you turned your back to him and started to walk away, muttering under your breath about how you had more important things to do. You could feel his gaze on your back, but you refused to acknowledge it. You didn't want to give him the satisfaction of thinking that you cared.

Anakin followed you, his footsteps falling heavily behind yours. "Hey, wait," he said, trying to catch up. "Please, just talk to me. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you." You kept walking, your pace not slowing down. "I really messed up, didn't I? I don't know what came over me. I just wanted to help." He was practically begging now, and it only made you angry all over again.

"You should have been more careful," you said coldly, not looking back at him. "Now everyone thinks I'm some sort of idiot. And you know what? That’s not really good for my reputation as a Jedi." His shoulders slumped at your words, and you felt a twinge of guilt for being so harsh. But you couldn't help it. You were still hurt.

Anakin didn't say anything else, just kept walking a few steps behind you, his head hung low. After a while, you could feel his presence fading away, as if he were disappearing into thin air. You stopped and turned around, suddenly realizing that you missed him. But he was gone.

The next day, you tried to ignore him again, but something felt off. He avoided your gaze and kept his distance, even during lightsaber training. You couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking. Was he angry with you? Or was he just as miserable as you were?

Later that afternoon, you were sitting by yourself in the Jedi garden, lost in thought, when you felt a familiar presence behind you. Anakin sat down beside you, not saying a word. For a long moment, there was silence between you. Then, finally, he spoke. "I'm sorry. For everything. I was stupid, and I hurt you. And I just want you to know that I'm sorry. I'll do anything to make it up to you." His words were soft, sincere.

You turned to look at him, and saw that his eyes were filled with regret. You could feel your heart softening, just a little. "It's okay," you said, trying to keep your voice gentle. "I guess I overreacted. I'm sorry too, Anakin. For pushing you away."

Anakin smiled at you, a genuine smile that lit up his whole face. "Thank you," he said simply. "I promise, I'll never embarrass again.I’ll never let you down." And with that, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, and you knew that somehow, you could both move on from this. Because in the end, even Jedi could make mistakes, and sometimes, all you needed was the strength to forgive each other.

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heartofjasmina · 8 months

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Glorious

for @medusashima 's Live Deliciously collab <3

Toshinori always feels a twinge of embarrassment when he comes to your place. Your “place” being a hole drilled into the wall of one of the stalls of your buildings bathrooms, owned by David Shield. Dave was the first one to recommend you to him, simply calling you Zara, and saying she was the best at giving head.

“You mean she’s really good?” Toshi had asked, confused by the statement.

“No, buddy, I mean she’s the best. The best blowjob you’ll ever have.” Dave had hearts in his eyes as he spoke, and knowing how touched starved the scientist was (something they shared) made him hopeful.

He’d first stopped by in between missions. The only way he could get off with his amount of stamina and his size was with another person, as the collection of broken pocket pussies could show. The first time he’d felt you take his entire length down your throat he’d cum right then and there. You hadn’t gagged once and swallowed his seed with such hunger and need it made him hard all over again. When he collected himself, panting and heaving from the force of his orgasm, you pulled yourself off him with a lewd ‘pop’ that made him shiver. “Come back anytime, big guy. Your dick is a fucking masterpiece.”

Your voice was husky and low, probably from all the throat fuckings you’d taken throughout the night. It made him both aroused— and jealous if he was being honest with himself.

He was hooked.

He’d wake up from wet dreams of what it must be like to give you full access to his balls as well as his dick and after every mission he couldn’t but wonder, were you thinking of him the way he was thinking about you? More often than not he talked himself into making a “quick” stop at your place.

It became his only source of touch, beside the occasional one night stand with Dave where his friends ass swallowed his cock with an eagerness matched only by the man himself. As the number one hero, too many people assumed he didn’t need anything. No comforting pats on the back after hard missions. No hugs except from fans who were trying to cop a feel. Nothing. And he craved it. He craved touch so badly he felt suffocated by it sometimes.

One morning after a particularly depserate night with Dave he asked his friend as he was making them breakfast, “How did you meet her?”

“Zara?” Dave was looking through some notes on his current tech development and continued to answer without looking up. “She was a tenant, single, just wanted some company. But when I tried to date her, she refused. She said she had no need for a man beyond the occasional really nice dick to suck. Apparently it gets her off like nothing else. After a while she said she’d even suck a friend of mine if their dick was worth it.”

“Huh, and your first thought was me?” A sly smile was on his lips as he looked over his shoulder, and Dave grinned back.

“After having it inside me? Fuck yes. It would be selfish not to share you with a fellow size queen.” As if the answer was obvious, and that made Toshinori laugh so hard he burned the first of the pankcakes.

“Hey there big guy, long time no see.” He could see you smile through the hole, suddenly curious what your face looked like. Your lips were full and glistening with lipgloss that smelled faintly of vanilla.

But then you took his cock into your mouth and all ability to analyze melted away. You sucked him sloppy, moaning without a hint of shame, and with his super hearing he could easily detect the squelch of you fucking yourself.

“Dave said it gets you off, sucking dick.” It was the first time he had spoken when he was getting head from you, and he could feel you pause in fingering yourself.

“Name?” You pulled off his dick briefly, stopping the motion of your fingers inside you to ask your question breathleslly.

“Toshinori.” It came out as a whisper, and for the first time in a while he wondered when the last time was that he had someone to ask him his name.

“Toshi, then. When a dick is as pretty as yours, having it in my mouth is the most erotic thing. I love everything about it. The power in knowing I can make you weak in the knees with just my mouth, swallowing cum that proves I have you wrapped around my finger… Yeah. Sucking dick gets me off big time.” You breathed out and tapped the hole. “Now give me that beautiful dick of yours. I’m not done.”

“Yes, Zara.” He answered so sincerely it made your pussy ache to be filled with the dick in front of you.

Once more his glorious dick was fed through the hole, and you were once again in awe of just how perfect it was. Thick and flushed pink with shaved balls and a little tuft of blonde hair at its base.

You took your time the second time around, kissing his shaft’s head and licking up the precum that leaked from the slit. It made you smile on the inside to hear his breathing grow more and more uneven, the way you could see his thighs trembling slightly.

Only then did you take his full length down your throat again.

“Fuck me, my throat.” You whined as you stuffed your fingers inside your cunt again, the burning need for him only growing. “Need it— fuck I want it.”

Toshinori was beyond happy to give you what you needed, starting to fuck himself into your beautiful goddamn throat. It was better than any pussy he’d ever been inside. It only made him wonder what your pussy must be like, what you must be like.

“I’m- I’m gonna cum,” he warned as you took him all the way down and tongued his balls at the same time.

You hummed in approval and made no move to stop sucking him as usual, waiting patiently like the good girl you were for your treat.

The thing about Toshi’s loads is that they overwhelmed you. You had to scramble to swallow fast enough to take in the sheer amount of semen he dumped down your throat.

When he pulled out of your mouth you gasped for air, but you also felt your orgasm wash over you as you whined and slumped against the wall.

“That’s it, make your sweet little pussy feel good.” Toshinori couldn’t help but encourage you through it, wishing to hell there wasn’t a wall between you.

“Fuck, Toshi,” and damned if his name sounded better from your lips than anyone else. You finally let yourself relax only to be surprised by one last request.

“Let me taste.” You froze, questioning his seriousness, but then you saw his mouth opening like you always do for him.

Cunt burning, you stood and fed him your fingers drenched in your juices. His tongue greedily sought out every drop of your essence, sucking and licking your fingers clean.

FInally when he’d had his fill he pulled off your fingers, kissing your fingertips before standing and adjusting his pants.

“Until next time, Zara.” He murmured and you smiled to yourself.

“Till next time, Toshi.”

#toshinori x reader #toshinori smut #toshinori yagi x reader #all might x reader #all might smut #all might x david shield #livedeliciously🐐collab

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turnthefrigginfr0gsgay · 1 year

Text

Mumscarian week day 1 - Home Is Wherever I'm With You

Prompt: Nature & New Beginnings

I – Season 6, Grian and Mumbo:

“Don’t you think it’s beautiful?” Mumbo asked, turning his head to look over at where Grian sat beside him.

Grian hummed, glancing over at Mumbo briefly, then returning his attention to the extraordinary view before them, not catching the way Mumbo quickly looked away from him. “It is, isn’t it?”

The two Hermits rest peacefully in the grass on the island that Mumbo had claimed for his base before the season started. They watched in contentment as the sun dipped below the horizon, ever so slowly.

“Absolutely gorgeous,” Mumbo whispers faintly, as if his words were not intended for Grian’s ears. Grian peeked back over at the taller Hermit, surprised to find that he was already watching him with a small smile, so soft it almost hurt.

Hit with a burst of some unnamed emotion, Grian pushed himself up abruptly, startling Mumbo.

“Well!” He chuckled awkwardly, ignoring the look of confusion and what seemed to be a twinge of hurt that the ravenette gave him. “This has been great, Mumbo, but I best be going now.”

“Gri-“ Came the expected attempt at an interruption, though Grian merely brushed it off.

“I’ve got things to do, Mumbo, a starter base to build, projects to start, and pranks to plan! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

“Grian I- “

But Mumbo didn’t get a chance to say anything before Grian had pushed off from the ground and was flying toward the location of the start of his underwater base.

Mumbo sighed, slumping back against the grass.

Dammit.

II – Season 6, Grian and Scar:

“Y’know, I can’t think of many times we’ve interacted this season. Can you?” Grian frowned, tilting his head in contemplation.

“Not really, maybe one or two. Like that time I grabbed your stuff after you had just drowned.” He grinned, turning to look over at the taller man who gave him a light-hearted glare. “But that doesn’t matter. What matters is how absolutely wonderful mine, Ren and Impulse’s commune looks!”

Scar hummed, looking out over the fields of flowers and trees, all the way over to the three men’s van’s in the distance.

“I have to admit, it does look ahmayzing! Very aesthetically pleasing.” Grian grinned.

“Why thank you!”

“Nothing that you built or terraformed, though.”

“Wha-“ Scar started snickering. “Scar! You do know that I terraformed and built most of it, right?!”

“I know, I know! It was a joke, G-man, I absolutely love what you’ve done with the place.’

“You better.”

The two relax back against the hill they were resting on, both enamoured by the exquisite view that was presented before them. For a brief moment, the air was still, and it seemed as if the wind no longer carried any sound. Breaking the serene silence, Scar spoke up again.

“This view truly is breathtaking, though.” He turned to look at Grian, surprised to find the avian was already watching him. Tilting his head with a soft smile, he continued. “Isn’t it, Grian?”

Grian smirked at him mischievously, when he spoke, his voice was practically a purr. “Not as beautiful as you.”

Scar blinked at him, caught off guard, and felt his face flush with embarrassment. Grian snickered, watching as Scar glanced back at the view then over at Grian. “I… don’t know what I’m supposed to say to that. Thank you?”

Grian burst into laughter, turning away, and covering his mouth to hide the blush spreading across his cheeks. He hadn’t anticipated this reaction from the man who was constantly flirting with others. “You gave me that opening! Did you seriously expect me not to take it?!”

When Grian wasn’t looking, Scar smiled again. His expression was achingly soft as he watched Grian, doubled over in joy.

Void, he was in love with this man.

III – Season 7, Grian and Mumbo:

Grian stared blankly at the sunrise from where he sat in one of the countless towering jungle trees, a little unsure of what to do with himself.

“You okay up there, Gri?” A familiar voice called out from the ground far below him. He startled, leaning forward slightly to peek down at whoever was standing on the ground.

“Oh, hey Mumbo.” The Hermit tilted his head and scrunched up his nose – something that grian could barely see from this distance, staring up at his friend.

“Grian, saying ‘hello’ most definitely does not answer my question.”

“What’s your point?” Grian tilted his head with a small grin.

“Okay, I’m coming up, you weirdo.”

Grian sat back against the tree, relaxing again as he listened to the vaguely amusing sounds of his friend struggling to climb the tall tree. He was not at all planning on offering any sort of help to Mumbo despite having wings and being plenty strong enough to carry the other.

Mumbo was panting, his limbs shaking from exertion by the time he finally pulled himself up to the branch that Grian was resting on. Grian smirked into the fading light.

“So, did you enjoy your climb?” Mumbo slowly turned his head to stare at Grian, breath still heaving, seemingly trying to find something to say.

“You are insufferable.” He decided, turning back to watch the setting sun. Grian burst into laughter.

“If I’m so insufferable, then why do you put up with me?” He cried, amusement lacing both his tone and expression.

“Maybe because you’re cute.” Mumbo grumbled before slapping a hand over his mouth when he realised what he said.

Grian stared at him, jaw dropped in shock as he processed what he had just been told. “Did- did you just-“

Mumbo buried his burning red face in his hands, unsuccessfully trying to hide the blush that was now creeping down his neck and up his cheeks. Grian turned back to the view, leaving the two to sit in a shocked and flustered silence.

After almost twenty minutes of somehow comfortable silence, Mumbo finally pulled his hands away from his mouth, having dragged them down his face after about ten minutes. Grian watched him through his peripheral vision, waiting patiently (which was a strange thing for him to do) for him to say something.

“Uh…” Mumbo chuckled nervously. “As pretty as this view is, and as much as I love y—I mean—love hanging out with you, I should really be going now. Sorry, buddy.”

Grian cringed minusculely, but nodded in understanding nonetheless, watching in silence as Mumbo slowly but carefully clambered backdown the tree. As soon as the taller was on the ground and walking away, Grian dropped his head into his hands with an annoyed groan. Thankfully, no one was there to see as tears welled up in his eyes and slipped down his cheeks.

I always mess everything up.

IV – Season 7, Grian and Scar:

A crash pulled Grian away from where he was trading with the villagers in his mansion.

‘What was that?’ He wondered, drifting toward the front of the build where the sound had originated.

There was a strangely rustling sound coming from just outside the front door of the mansion, almost as if some sort of small animal was stuck in one of the bushes and trying to get out.

Frowning, Grian pushed the door open, looking at all the bushes around the top of the staircase. One of the bushes rustled with movement, though it was only one out of the many and there was no breeze that could be the cause of the bushes moving.

Grian stared at it in pure confusion. It didn’t seem to be any sort of hostile mob, it was too big to be most animals and he couldn’t think of any that it could possibly be, anyway.

He took one step forward, ready to confront whatever animal may or may not have been sitting in the bush, when Scar stumbled out of it, a broken elytra strapped to his back, and leaves and sticks tangled all through his hair. Startled, Grian stepped away.

“Grian!” He pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly and almost falling over before stabilising himself. “My friend! Terribly sorry about the intrusion, I was heading back to the shopping district, you see, and-“

“Scar,” Grian cut him off. “You don’t have to explain yourself, I kinda figured that you crashed given that your elytra is very clearly broken-“ he gestured to the ragged fabric, barely held together by a rusted metal frame. “-and you were crawling around in my bushes. Also your suit is ripped, and that doesn’t seem like something you’d allow yourself to walk around in, Mr Mayor. I thought you were supposed to look respectable.”

His tone turned dramatic as he pretended to be offended by Scar’s ruffled appearance, the taller man smirking mirthfully in response.

“Oh, my sincerest apologies, dear citizen.” He placed his hand on his chest just as dramatically as Grian had been. “I’ll certainly do my best to be more presentable the next time we meet.”

The two men took a moment to giggle at each other’s shenanigans before calming down again.

“You wanna come inside, Scar? Maybe get cleaned up a bit? The mansions not all too liveable right now but theres both a bedroom and bathroom and bathroom in there somewhere.” Scar gave him a small yet grateful smile that sent the avian’s heart soaring.

“I’d like that, thank you Grian."

Grian smiled back at him, hands shaking in such a minuscule way that he hoped it wasn’t noticeable to Scar. He hung around the taller man all the time, why was he suddenly so nervous about it.

Besides, it wasn’t like he found him attractive or anything-

Oh, crap.

V – Season 8, Grian and Pearl:

Grian sighed contentedly as he walked up the mountain near where he and the rest of the Boatem Crew would be building their bases this season. The sun was setting on the horizon and Grian sat on the highest point of the mountain, smiling softly as he admired the view and the beautiful colours of the setting sun.

The breeze that swept past him was strangely calming, ruffling his feathers, and brushing through his hair. His surroundings were quiet enough that it was easy to hear the footsteps coming up behind him.

His first thought was that it would be either Mumbo or Scar, but there was no reason for either of them to be visiting Grian up on this mountain. Besides, no one had even been in sight when Grian had flown up to the top of the mountain, nor had anyone been on the mountain and there was no way they could get up here so fast when neither had an elytra yet. Impulse also didn’t have his elytra yet this season, and there was only other member of Boatem with natural wings-

“Hey, Pearl. Didn’t expect to see you up here!”

Pearl hummed as she sat on the rocky ground just next to him, legs dangling over the edge of the precipice.

“Honestly, I’m just kinda wondering why you’re not over there with those two.” She gestured to where Mumbo and Scar were laying in the grass far below on the ground, watching the stars as they faded into view. Grian gave her a bemused look. “What? C’mon G, I’ve only been here one day, surely I’m allowed to tease you about your non-existent love life just a little!” The avian squawked in offence to his love life being called non-existent (not that Mumbo and Scar even had anything to do with his love life, why would they?), but Pearl ignored him. “It’s extremely obvious that you like them, why don’t you just tell them?”

“Because I don’t like them! Not like that! Pearl, they’re my friends. Nothing more, nothing less.” Grian sighed, exasperated.

Pearl stared at him; expression completely blank. She clearly didn’t believe him.

“Grian, you’re one of my oldest friends.” The man in question frowned, glancing over at her, slightly worried about where she was going with this. “I’ve known you for almost a decade now. I know how to tell when you’re in love with someone. There is a certain way that you act. You acted that way with Taurtis back on EVO, and you’re acting that same way now with Mumbo and Scar.”

Grian huffed. “Oh, yeah? And how did I act?”

“Well, if you really wanna know.” Grian straightened, vaguely panicked. He hadn’t expected her to actually have a response to that! “You get flustered much more easily, especially around them, you subconsciously try to avoid them as a way to avoid your feelings, you get really anxious about anything to do with them, you through yourself into your work more. Would you like me to go one?”

“NO! Uh, I, uh.” Grian cleared his throat ignoring the smug look that Pearl shot him. “I- I mean ‘no’.”

Pearl hummed again, leaning back against her hands, and letting her moth wings stretch out behind her, leaving Grian to his thoughts, and-

Oh, void.

“Welp,” Pearl stood. “I best be going now, stuff to do, things to gather, sleep to avoid, y’know how it is. See ya later, Grian.” Grian hummed in acknowledgment and Pearl flew off, back to what seemed to be the start of an upside-down boat.

Grian sighed, turning his attention from the beautiful starry night sky to the two just as beautiful men still laying in the grass. Pearl’s words bounced around in his head like a pinball machine as he silently watched the two interact.

“It’s extremely obvious that you like them, why don’t you just tell them?”

“You acted that way with Taurtis back on EVO, and you’re acting that same way now with Mumbo and Scar.”

Grian hunched over himself, rubbing his temples when his head started to pang.

Crap.

VI - Season 8, Grian, Mumbo and Scar

The moon is big.

That is all Grian allows himself to think about as he stares up at the moon through the gap in the ceiling of his observatory.

The moon is big. Too big to be able to see any other part of the night sky.

It bothered Grian, the fact that he couldn’t see the stars. He had always, for as long as he could remember, loved watching them as they twinkled in the sky. But now he couldn’t, and it bothered him.

“G-man?” A familiar melodious voice called out. Grian ignored him, content to just stare at the overwhelming brightness of the moon above him. “Gri? Are you up here?”

“Grian?” An equally familiar voice asked gently. This one much closer, and much quieter than the other. Footsteps approached where he lay in the middle of the observatory, stopping just out of his line of sight. “Grian?” They crouched down, a handsome moustached face came into view, easily diverting his attention away from the moon. “Are you okay? Why are you just lying in the middle of your observatory?”

Grian blinked up at him lazily, watching as Scar appeared behind the taller man. “Moon big.” He shrugged as best he could lying on the ground. Mumbo and Scar both gave him concerned looks. Grian ignored them and turned back to stare at the moon with a scowl. Mumbo shifted to sit properly on the quartz ground, and Scar moved around to sit on Grian’s other side. They both followed his annoyed gaze up to the moon above them

“Are you upset because of the moon? Or something else related to it?” Scar asked gently, looking back down at him.

Grian shrugged again, offering a simple. “I can’t see the stars.”

Mumbo gave him a sympathetic look, reaching over to run his fingers gently through Grian’s hair. “You’ve probably not gotten much sleep either.” Grian hummed, closing his eyes, relaxing easily as he leaned into the soft touch.

There was a short moment of silence in which Grian allowed himself to drift off just a little, now only semi-conscious to the world around him. As he drifted, he half payed attention to Mumbo and Scar’s hushed conversation.

“He clearly hasn’t slept in a while, I know you want to tell him – I do too! – but we should let him rest first.”

There was a sigh.

“I know, I know. I guess it’s just because the longer I wait, the more anxious about it I get. But at the same time, I’m not exactly sure I’m completely ready to tell him and am now just procrastinating it.”

In his sleep deprived state, Grian couldn’t decipher what exactly they were talking about. Did they want to tell him something? If so what? And why were they so anxious about it? He didn’t get to even voice his questions, let alone get any answers to them, before the fog at the edges of his consciousness took over and he completely fell asleep.

☆☆☆

When Grian awoke, it was to the smell of freshly baked biscuits, the sound of a soft humming tune, and a hand carding through his hair.

He chirped happily, leaning further into the soft touch of someone’s hand in his hair, much the same way he had done before falling asleep. The only response he was given was that of a small chuckle. He blinked a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright light of the sun before opening them completely and taking in his surroundings.

He was laying on an extremely comfortable bed in someone’s—probably Scar’s if the size of the room and the fact that there even was a bed was anything to go on—base, wrapped up in soft, warm blankets. Mumbo was sitting on a chair that he had clearly pulled over to be next to Grian. He was the one stroking Grian’s hair, long nimble fingers carefully running through the tangled golden strands.

“Good morning, sleepy head.” Mumbo greeted upon noticing him awake and looking around. “Are you more awake now that you’ve had some time to rest?”

Grian thought for a moment, assessing how exactly he felt before responding. “I think so? I don’t really know, I feel like everything with the moon is just messing with my head. I feel fine, but at the same time I feel like crap and I’m not exactly sure why.”

Mumbo nodded in understanding just as Scar appeared in the doorway, a plate of biscuits in hand. He looked a little concerned, but he quickly lit up when he saw that Grian was awake, very similarly to how Mumbo had not a few moments earlier.

“Grian! It’s good to see you’re awake! I made cookies if you want some?” He stepped fully into the room, walking over to where the other two men sat–Grian having pushed himself up when Scar appeared–and presenting the plate of biscuits as a sort of offering. They certainly did look delicious, Scar had made them after all. There was an assortment of different biscuits on the plate, though the two that caught Grian’s attention were the chocolate ones–which, as an avian, he made a mental note to avoid–and the shortbread–one of his favourites.

“Can I have one as well-?” Grian snickered at the pleading look on Mumbo’s face glancing over at Scar to find the other just watching Mumbo, his face completely expressionless. Grian snickered again.

“I don’t know, can you?” Mumbo’s hopeful expression turned to one of internal pain.

“Please stop with the dad jokes, you’re not even a father. Can I have a biscuit or not?”

“I dunno, what do you think, Grian?” Grian grinned at the two when they turned to look at him.

“Stay away from the shortbread and you won’t get bitten. Other than that I don’t care.” Scar and Mumbo both let out startled laughs, Grian’s grin just widened with mirth.

When Grian thought about it, the moment seemed strangely domestic. It was just the three of them, sitting in Scar’s bedroom, sharing the plate of biscuits between them. Grian took a moment to just revel in the peacefulness of it all. The sun peeking in through a gap in the curtains, filling the room with warmth. The bed was comfortable, maybe even one of the most comfortable things Grian had ever laid on, the blankets were soft and there was plenty of space, enough for all three of them to sit comfortably. He almost didn’t want this moment to end.

“Hey, Grian?” Mumbo’s voice brought Grian out of the mess of his thoughts and back into the present, the nervous tone causing him to frown in concern. “Can we talk to you about something?”

“Yeah, of course. Is everything okay?” Mumbo’s eyes widened in the realisation of how his words may have sounded.

“Oh! Yeah, everything’s fine! We just have something that we want to tell you. It’s nothing bad, we promise.” Scar nodded in agreement, looking just as, if not more nervous than Mumbo. Grian relaxed slightly, still somewhat concerned, though soothed by the confirmation that nothing was wrong.

“Okay, go ahead.” Mumbo nodded and glanced back at Scar for reassurance, receiving a shaky smile in return. He took a deep breath and turned back to Grian who raised an eyebrow at them. “What’s this about?”

“So,” Scar started uncertainly. “You know how Mumbo and I have been dating since early season seven?”

Grian nodded, a wave of some unpleasant emotion rippling through him at the simple question. Scar bobbed his head slightly in a small nod of understanding before continuing.

“And you know that you’re one of our closest friends and that we would do anything for you?” Grian nodded again, tilting his head as he tried to decipher where Scar was going with this (ignoring that unpleasant emotion that coursed through his veins, growing with each passing second). “Yeah? Where are you going with this exactly?”

“Well- we were, um. We-“ Mumbo placed a comforting hand against Scar’s arm and Grian watched them with growing concern.

“You- you guys do know that you don’t have to tell me this right? Whatever this is.”

“We know.” Mumbo guaranteed, holding up his free hand in a placating gesture. “And we want to tell you. It’s just a little nerve-wracking.”

“Okay…”

“Anyway, what we want to ask is if you maybe, possibly wanted to join our relationship?” Mumbo’s voice trailed off into silence as he spoke, anxiety getting the best of him. Grian froze. He didn’t know what exactly he was expecting, but this wasn’t it.

Not that he was complaining though.

“You- you really want me to join your relationship?“ He stared at them in surprise, cheeks burning. The two of them were clearly flustered, maybe even a little ashamed, neither one was looking at him. And that just wouldn’t do. “Hey,” his voice was gentle, almost as if he were talking down a scared animal. “Guys, I’m not mad at you. Honestly even if I didn’t like you back, I don’t think it would be possible for me to be mad at you. Not for something like this.”

Mumbo didn’t seem to properly register his words beyond the confirmation that he wasn’t going to start yelling at them. Scar, on the other hand.

“Did you just say that you like us back?”

Mumbo also looked up, shocked. Grian blinked. He hadn’t realised that he had said that.

“Yeah, yeah I do.” He offered a soft small, receiving stunned stares in response. “And I would love to join your relationship.”

Scar snapped out of his reverie sooner than Mumbo. The elf surged forward, wrapping Grian up in a tight, yet comforting and warm embrace. “Oh, thank Void! I was terrified that you were gonna say ‘no’ and that our friendship was gonna be ruined forever! I am so glad that you didn’t say no!”

Grian laughed, the unpleasant emotion that had been swirling in his chest was gone now, replaced by giddiness and euphoria. He wrapped his arms around Scar in return, humming happily when he felt another pair of arms around them, a second body pressed against his side. He brought his wings around to cover the three of them like a blanket.

And that was–for the most part–how they stayed for the next couple of hours. They moved into a more comfortable position of course, even putting on a movie to watch together. A Disney movie, at Scar’s insistence. But they stayed together, always by each other’s sides.

Even at the end of the world, they stayed, because that’s what you do when you love someone.

You stay with them, right by their side, forever and always.

Because they are your home.

#mumscarianweek #b3an soup #day1prompt #bean writes stuff!!#mumscarian week is finally hereeeee #i cant wait to see what people makeeee #(this will also be posted to my ao3)

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thecameronchronicles · 2 years

Text

Crimson

TW: Mentions of blood. Smut. Language.

SUMMARY: Period sex with your boyfriend, JJ.

WORD COUNT: 1800

*Requested*

Crimson

There were many benefits to being a woman, such a perk having been the fact that you caught JJ Maybank’s eye over the summer and had become inseparable. And yet, of all of the advantages that being a feminine figure entailed, THIS was not one of them. The bloating. The cramps. The sugar cravings. The aches. Not to mention the fact it left you unbearably horny, a detail worsened by the way JJ constantly affected you even without these hormones. And it was something he was well aware of as he wouldn't have to do anything more than a smirk or a few seconds of a ‘come hither’ look before you would be intertwined beneath him and crying out in name. It would be enough to forget about your monthly friend, that bitch who always came uninvited, as he led you into the back bedroom of the Chateau with your body adored within his hands.

“You’ve been driving me crazy…” He groaned while his lips met with your neck, the vibration of his words to your skin being sent directly between your thighs. But as his fingers made their way to the edge of your shorts and adjacent panties beneath, teasing that obstacle between you and your pleasure, your body convulsed away from him once remembering what laid just beyond that fabric.

“Are you not in the mood?” He asked with only a moment’s hesitation as he returned his lips to your neck, working his way along your shoulder to that spot just below your ear that made your eyes roll once feeling his breath return to your skin.

“I’m sure that I could convince you…” But once again as his fingers moved against you, you retracted as if it caused physical pain.

“Sweetheart?”

“I’m sorry-”

“If you don’t want me, I’ll try not to take it to heart…” He feigned chest pain by lifting his hand to his chest as he saw you turn away with embarrassment. How badly you wanted him, always, was almost unhealthy as it consumed the majority of your thoughts. But how could it not when he seduced you constantly with those devilish smirks and damn dimples.

“Baby, what is it? I didn’t hurt you last time, did I?”

“No! I just…I can’t…” His eyes narrowed in confusion as he tried to be supportive, but found more confusion than anything as you were usually easy to convince out of your clothes due to your love for him. Day or night, The Chateau or even his truck, it didn’t matter, you were his for the taking. Which was why his confusion remained as you searched for a way to explain as the words suddenly felt dirty on your tongue.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, but you gotta tell me that-”

“No, I do-I do!” He smiled at the desperation present beneath the fisting made against his shirt.

“I…I’m…” Your eyes entertained him with the way they flashed around, trying to hint at the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say. A humored lift of his lips would widen once he put the pieces of your amusing charades together.

“Baby, do you think I care?” Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Somehow this made you feel more vulnerable than even your first time with him.

“You…don’t?” To this, he walked you back to the edge of the bed.

“I love your body…and that’s a part of it…Besides, I heard Pope and Kie talk about it that it helps with all the things you have to deal with…cramps and shit…” You smirked at the way he was playing off the details he didn’t know well, but couldn’t help but feel a twinge of relief in knowing he wasn’t deterred by it either.

“If you don’t want me to, though-” You paused.

“I just don’t want you to feel like you-” He interrupted you with a kiss.

“Do you want me?” You nodded.

“Then that’s all I need to know…” He guided you softly onto the bed, unsure how rough you wanted him due to the effects of your cramps and other aches, but was quick to source your body with his touch.

Your hips were always his starting point as he could begin here even in public, a dance of foreplay to where he could bring your cheeks to blush without embarrassing you and tainting your modesty. But as you were alone, those fingers were eager beneath the fabric of your clothes and rising to your chest, appreciating the apexed nipples beneath his palms that he pulled into a pinch, and then descending higher to your cheeks.

Fingers wrapped within your hair, he would keep his dominant hand on a path back down to your hip as your touch removed the loose shirt from his torso to reveal him to you. Your touch outlined the definition of his physique, bronzed and beautiful, before biting your lip as he grinned, the way you loved his body paling in comparison to how he adored yours.

“If you want me to stop at any-” You shook your head, interrupting his chivalry as he chuckled.

“You don’t ever have to be embarrassed, sweetheart. Let me take care of you…” He kissed the skin of your hips, a trail made from one side to the other, before looking up to you one last time for confirmation.

When given, he pulled your shorts freely from your body, discarding them without care-along with your panties, and revealing you to him. But immediately, your thighs attempted to press together as he stared, the evidence of your monthly visitation in drops as his finger teased your sex.

“Relax, sweetheart…” You tried, unsteady breaths making this difficult as he would lick against your clit, your body arching to the surprise of his breath.

“You don’t have to-” He would interrupt you with a sudden unsheathing of his fingers inside of you, a gasp acting as a prelude to your tremors as he bent that chosen finger in perfect precision to that most sensitive button locked within.

“You say that to me again and I’ll have to get a little rough with you to show just HOW much I apparently DO have to…If you think a little blood will keep me away from this delicious pussy…” He moved back between your folds, his dirty words sweetened by the way his tongue worked against you. Quickly, your fingers ran through his hair, tugging as he turned his flicks swifter, until finally sucking once your tremors brought you to that edge.

“JJ…” You breathed in your best attempts to do so with any form of steadiness. When this failed, you gave in to what was otherwise a consolation before he withdrew.

“God, you have no idea what those moans do to me-”

“Please JJ.”

“You want me inside you, sweetheart?” You nodded as he smirked, having undressed at some point while pleasuring you with that smartassed tongue always left eloquent in lust exclusively for you.

“Then do it…” He teased as you reached for his shaft, his breath shifting for just a moment, before you would lead him inside of you.

“Oh shit…” He groaned, “So warm…” You both chuckled as you turned away with a blush as he pulled you back to him.

“How do you feel even better than-fuck…” He groaned to the feeling of your fingers embedding into his arms. Somehow, it HAD felt better. The sensations you were well familiar with had been heightened in this moment; something both of you were eager to take advantage of.

“Let me see all of you, baby…” He guided as you removed the shirt from your chest as he was quick to mend the chill left by a lack of covering. With slow thrusts, he manipulated your breast between his teeth as the other would find comfort in his palm, kneading attention and squeezing, having mended the ache otherwise beneath.

“Oh, JJ…”

“Feel good baby?”

“So good…” You whimpered as he nodded in agreement against you.

“You always feel so good, but-goddamn!” He smirked, driving a chuckle from within you, before his fingers would now wrap in the sheets beneath you.

“Please, JJ, faster…Please…” Your whines were pitiful and he lived for them.

“Hold onto me.” He instructed as you would do just that before he lifted you into a straddle as he used the headboard of the bed for support as you were now given more control over your mutual exchange.

“I don’t want to go too hard or anything, but I still wanna make you come as good as you always do…so just this once…” His hand wrapped at the back of your neck.

“I’ll let you be in control, okay, baby?” You nodded.

“Then move, baby…please move, you’re killing me…” You bobbed your head in agreement as you basked in the expressions left behind by your actions. Although you focused solely on the way he’d felt inside of you, you couldn’t help but adore the way his eyes fluttered closed or shot open when you’d roll your hips in a specific way he loved well, not to mention the part of his lips that made you mimic its agape retraction. It was almost like a work of art to know you were the reason behind it.

“Fuck-Do that again. Please baby, clench around me again!” He rasped as you obeyed, his body curving into yours to the sensation granted by your tightness clenched that much further.

“JJ…” You whimpered as he draped his hand from your thigh and onto your clit.

“Sing for me pretty girl…I want you to come all over my cock..I wanna feel it…” You nodded, that edge brought even closer with each rubbing made of his fingers.

“Come with me JJ-”

“I’m close baby…Fuck, I’m way too close…” He scoffed as you pulled him up from your chest, forehead resting against his, before feeling him sharpen his grip before a final kiss to your lips had marked that silent release from sensations too intense to speak along with.

“Shit…” You confessed as he remained this way inside of you, the flexings of his cock set in tremulous responses to your own contractions as he moaned to the continuation of your warmth.

“I want to know your schedule.” You pulled back with a chuckle.

“My schedule?”

He nodded. “We are doing this every day for SURE until next month-”

“So you’ll only have sex with me when I’m-”

“No, I’m taking you as much as you’ll let me. But ESPECIALLY during this…” He kissed you sweetly, cursing in disbelief, before pulling you onto your feet.

“Wonder if it feels the same in the bath…”

“Only one way to find out…” You challenged as he flexed his brow and pulled you to the bathroom to do just that…

Taglist: @hopebaker @iovdrew @penny4yourthoughts @magnificantmermaid @pickingviolets @lovedetlost @trikigirl271 @my-baexht-ls @slut4starkey @slvtherinseeker @obxiskewl @obxxrxfes @bluesongbird @slut-era @ailee-celeste @rafesbae @pankhoeforlife

#obx #jjmaybank #jj maybank x reader #jjsmut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank

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italoniponic · 2 years

Note

Can you do the octotrio with a s/o who has a minor sea food allergy to seafood except fish and shrimp . Where anything besides that makes them sick .

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐫𝐲'𝐬 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 - 𝐖𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭

| Notes: Hi, anon! I’m really sorry, I only managed to write Jade and Floyd! The idea was something I never did before and I got excited but when I finished Floyd’s I realized that I didn’t have a single idea what to write for Azul (I left him for last). Especially bc I did a little research about sea food allergy and some bits got commented here but since the tweels had different/opposite approaches to the plot, I didn’t know what to do for Azul. So… I’ll serve you only this pair of mischievous eels this time. Hope it’s okay! Thanks for the request <3 ps: on another note, now I realized that you said "minor" allergy... uh, I think I wrote it more for allergies in general so... again, sorry! |

Jade & Floyd Leech x g!n reader who was seafood allergy / headcanons / fluff with little drops of comedy / mentions of food and bad-timing jokes / use of “you” pronouns

Cherry’s Harvesting event 🍒 Masterlist

Seafood Sick

It had been a while since you and Jade had been officially dating. It was a happy moment. You two were having your little dates, getting to know each other more and sharing various things and experiences. Well, this was a discovery Jade would have liked to have known before taking you to a special dinner at the Mostro Lounge;

The first dish of your dinner was served and although you faced that soup with a little hesitation, you didn’t want to embarrass Jade. With a spoon, you took one of the mysterious meats there. In this, two problems came: it wasn’t exactly meat, it was cod, and you are allergic to vertebrate fish;

A few minutes later, your skin began to become inflamed with hives and you felt your throat hurt. Jade was immediately alarmed by your condition but he managed to pull himself together enough to get you to the infirmary as quickly as possible. There you managed to explain to nurse what it was and Jade was faced with the terrible situation of having served seafood to an allergic person;

It was a difficult night but you managed to be treated with good medications and the allergic reaction passed. But Jade returned to the dorm with a somewhat heavy conscience. He was aware that humans could have allergies — major and minor — but he didn't expect you to be allergic to something that was so daily to his life. It was terrible bad luck, even more so for you;

The two of you talked more about it and despite your reassurance that everything was fine and you knew exactly what you could and couldn't eat, Jade still remained thoughtful about this whole situation. He obviously wrote down the more complex details of your seafood allergy and went on to study a little more about it;

The concept of allergy is something extremely out of the ordinary for merfolk living in the ocean. They never had to worry about the immune system overreacting to a certain element of any food, be it other fish or seaweed. You end up a little envious of Jade’s ability to eat whatever he wants without worry, just a bit;

The variety of your allergy turns more to vertebrate fish such as salmon, cod, anchovies, sardines, etc. But Jade clung a little to the fact that eels were also included in this list. “Ah, what a relief,” Jade said, putting his hand to his heart and smiling, “That means I'm safe near you.”;

You stopped what you were doing to stare at him, your eyes empty like a dead fish. Sometimes you forgot that your boyfriend was capable of making jokes like that, only to look at you with a feigned concern and that twinge of irony — because you didn't even have a way to attack him, let alone eat him. But you understood that he was just trying to make you laugh;

Eating together is dealt with more carefully now. Jade prepares everything with great zeal and commitment, not wanting that night to repeat itself again. Of course, you will have some mild crises from time to time if you aren’t paying much attention in the cafeteria but, it's a very rare case. Either way, Jade would take you to the infirmary or give you the necessary medications right on the spot;

And believe it or not, there are some types of mushrooms that can help regulate the immune system and are also used to help allergies. Obviously they don’t replace a good anti allergic but Jade was super excited to know it. Hope you don’t have any problem with those little friends of his — this sounded a little ominous;

In any case, an allergy wasn’t going to stand between you and Jade. Even though you completely avoid seafood and such foods, you still frequented Mostro Lounge and your relationship with Jade even seemed to have gotten stronger. Seeing his care and understanding always makes your heart beat faster. And, thank goodness, it's love and not an allergic reaction!

You wouldn't expect Floyd to understand a lot about humans, but there are things he really liked to learn and know. And being the boyfriend of a human proved to be quite a rich and fun experience. Of course, it was interesting to know more about you too. But nothing would have prepared Floyd for an information you revealed when he asked for a shrimp dish one day in the Mostro Lounge;

You were a little allergic to seafood, more specifically invertebrates — the infamous shellfish and crustaceans. At least it was a funny scene. Floyd was holding a whole shrimp close to his mouth when you started commenting on your situation, his gaze entirely focused on you as that poor guy’s little orange head was crushed by his teeth;

Floyd was beyond surprised. “Koebi-chan, you are allergic to yourself!,” he exclaimed, more desolate by the nickname he gave you had this unexpected consequence than you facing the food well prepared by Octavinelle’s students. You laughed and shrugged, looking at the menu to place another order — you actually didn't know he had ordered that before your talk;

This information perplexed Floyd for a while. If he learned at some point that humans can have allergies, this detail maybe got hidden in his mind for quite a while. Well, in Floyd's defense, he knew some people had allergies to peanuts and milk and he thought it was the most annoying thing in the world;

Researching a little more about it, there was a popular allergy to shrimp and he was sad that these people couldn’t enjoy the softness and finesse that that lean seafood could offer. You mustered all your good patience to assure Floyd that you were already used to it and he didn't need to worry;

Said and done, Floyd recovered so quickly that you even got slightly offended by it. Well, he was still aware of your allergy and would take a little more care not to ask for anything that could literally close your throat — even faster than he would squeeze people. And if you said it was okay, why would Floyd go against it?;

Floyd proceeds to deal with everything in his usual relaxed way, following your example and going with the tide. You teached him a few things about types of antiallergics and foods that you generally avoid, which may seem simple and uninteresting details but Floyd receives everything very a relative fascination;

“But it's so crazy, isn't it, Koebi-chan? It's like a human having an allergy to human flesh...,” Floyd once pondered. He was kind of bored and this thought suddenly came out. You stopped drinking your water at that point, confused if Floyd had forgotten you weren't really a shrimp or if he didn't care that a thing like cannibalism was wrong anyway;

Despite everything, Floyd no longer ordered seafood for you when you went out on a date. He could even have a portion of takoyaki but your health was still important to him. Even if his way of doing things didn't make it too explicit;

At least, if this whole situation was worth anything, it was that Floyd decided it was the ideal time to start calling you by your first name instead of “little shrimpy”. What a pity, you will end up missing those times. But for the rest, he keeps treating you the same, squeezing you with hugs and his love.

#twisted wonderland #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #tweels #twst x reader #twst headcanons #twst imagines #gender neutral reader #cherry's writing #cherry's harvesting

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moved2usagiiboo · 3 years

Text

Chapter 2

Y/n has always been a faceless girl, faceless as in she will never do or be anything significant. She had decided to be nothing more than a shadow and stay out of everyone's way and have a peaceful first year of college. How will she handle the one and only Ran Haitani who seems to be obsessed with her?

Previous chapter || Next chapter

⚠️ WARNING⚠️ this series will be labeled as NSFW, therefore no minors can interact. There will also be slight bullying, mentions of death and murder (possibly very descriptive), drugs, underaged drinking (everyone is over 18+), manipulation, kidnapping, and yandere tendencies. Please be warned and proceed with caution.

The scent of the previous rainfall filled your nose as you walked on the wet sidewalk, sounds of your feet slapping against the water was the only thing you focused on. You looked up at the afternoon sky; clouds shifting to make room for the sun’s rays to peak through, finally doing it’s job of shining light onto the people. As you took your steps, one foot at a time you tried your hardest to ignore the lanky figure that walked right besides you. His footsteps matched with your own, following your pace. Painfully in sync as he followed you to your destination.

Why you were taking him to your house, you had no clue. You were letting this man, the same man who flung you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and stole your first kiss without your consent. The man who had you shaking like a leaf on a branch when the wind blows as his tongue went into your deepest parts to the point where you-

You felt heat rise to your face and the churn on embarrassment whelm in the pit of your stomach as your mind traveled back to what happened only twenty minutes ago, your little “predicament”. You refused to call it how it was, it was nothing more than an unfortunate situation that you found yourself entangled in.

You peaked over to the man who had his hands in his pocket, walking as if nothing had happened. You watched as he softly groaned in annoyance as his phone began to chime over and over with notifications, you wondered who would be blowing his phone up as if it’s the end of the world and they had to tell him. Possibly one of those girls from his posse, he did promise to come right back and yet here he is. With you. On his merry way to your house without a care in the world. He sighed as he lifted his phone from his pocket, he glanced at the screen temporarily before making eye contact with you.

A smirk ran across his face as he saw you whip your head from the sudden eye contact. “Am I just that handsome?” His voice laced with a teasing tone as he stared at you despite you looking away.

“I was just wondering what it’ll take to make you go away.” You muttered back unsure if he could hear you from how low you were speaking.

“So what? I let you squirt on my face, and you don’t even want to invite me over? And they say I’m cruel.” He feigned injury by placing his hand over his chest as he mouthed “ouch”.

“I never wanted to do that!” You turned to the side to yell at him, you covered your mouth at how loud you were surprised by the volume in your voice. He smirked while looking down at your angry face, eyes filled with rage as your bottom lip quivered.

Normally he gets pissed when a girl raises their voice at him, especially when they mean nothing more than a pretty face who gives a decent fuck, but looking at you right here, right now with the sun slowly coming out highlighting the highest the side of your body making you look as if you were straight out of a model magazine, he thought it was the cutest thing in the world. And all he wanted was to see how many more emotions he could squeeze out of you; he wonders what that twinge in his heart is. He must’ve mistaken it; it wasn’t his heart skipping a beat.

“But you didn’t complain.” His hand found safety on the side of your face, his long thumb dragging down your bottom lip as his eyes glinted with mischief. You couldn’t fight the weird feeling in your stomach when he touched you, and you couldn’t defend yourself when your heart was banging out of your chest. You knew no matter what you said he would have a rebuttal, and a good one too. Good enough to leave you quiet and obedient.

“But, lucky you-“ He moved his hand from your face, whipping his phone right in front of your eyes causing you to pull back to be able to see the screen properly. “My brother needs me, and if I don’t go soon, he might actually kill me. So, you’re free to go little dove…” He smiled as he pulled the screen away with his eyes closed. You sighed with relief for you thought it was over.

You opened your mouth to say farewell only for him to cut you off, a grip on your wrist as he pulled you closer. “Not so fast, I just need one thing from you.” His hands trapped you by pulling you in by your waist, your face was engulfed in his chest as he rubbed his hands up and down your back, getting awfully close to your ass.

“I need your number.” He whispers against your ear.

“W-Why should I?” You stuttered out, your head spinning from the tenderness he’s showcasing. Your heart throbbed and your face burned, as you opened your mouth again only to be cut off.

“To call you, of course.” He says as if it’s that simple. Not just anybody obtains Ran’s phone number, you know this because many of his girlfriends for the week have complained about him not giving them his number. Brushing it off and saying for “privacy reasons”, the fact that you were about to exchange numbers was enough to put a target on your head by the entire female population in school. You were very hesitant to agree but who knows what he might do to you if you say no.

“To text you.” He spoke again snapping you out of your trance, his hands trailing down to the lower parts of your waist. “To send you pictures n’ videos... Of certain things.” His hands reached your ass, cupping them perfectly in his large grasp. He practically lifted you up with this action, you whimpered feeling the grip he had on you.

Before you could answer you were spun around while being held in his clutch, his back now facing the street as a large splash of water had landed on both you and Ran, more Ran than yourself. A yelp left your mouth and Ran sucked his teeth in annoyance but stood still.

“You okay?” He asked tilting his head to lock eyes with you, you nodded frantically you peered over his arm and saw his back was soaking wet.

“Are you?” You spoke noticing that the water even landed in his hair, one hand smoothed his hair back as he looked behind him. A look of pure hatred and disgust scowled his face.

“Thirty minutes ago.” You heard voice come from behind Ran, peered over his shoulder once more to see a long black car pulled up on the street right next to the sidewalk. The windows were blacked out so you couldn’t see who was in the vehicle except for the man who had rolled down the window to speak.

“Thirty fucking minutes ago we were supposed to be there, now Mikey’s threatening to kill the both of us because you want to go fuckin’ AWOL.” The man spoke, much different from Ran’s honey like voice. The voice was deep and gruff, like a permanent morning voice as he cursed.

“Well, hello to you too little brother.” He smiled as he turned his body around with you, your body still being held close to his, “Y’know this shirt was expensive right?” He sighed at the damage done to his poor shirt.

Little brother? Oh, that’s right. The other Haitani, Rindou. He was practically a ghost; he was barely seen out in public and if he was, he was always spotted with Ran. He acted more like a bodyguard than a little brother, scaring off all the vultures that tried to surround him. He even made a few girls cry after speaking about how pathetic they were acting for a crumb of his older brother’s attention.

“Does it look like I give a shit?” Rindou spat out sarcastically.

“Well, I would hope so since it’s yours.” A cheerful tone laced his voice as he admitted that the shirt, he wore wasn’t his.

“You son of a-“ The man was cut off.

“Language, there’s a lady present. Isn’t that right little lamb?” His hands smoothed over your covered ass as a way to soothe or comfort you. You felt embarrassment pool inside, you tried to push him away only for him to hold tighter squeezing your ass, displaying complete indecency in front of his brother.

“You need to go to jail for sexual harassment and public indecency.” Rindou sighed as he opened his car door before slamming it. He grabbed his elder brother by the ear dragging him to the car, you moved out of the way not wishing to get involved in whatever family trouble was being displayed in front of you.

“Ow- Ow!” Ran cried out in pain causing you to laugh at his misery, he deserved it for all he’s put you through in the past two hours you’ve been with him. He yanked himself away from his brother’s grip on his ear and began to rub it as he whined in pain.

“I should punish you for laughing at me, so rude.” His eyes made contact with yours, “Ten spanks, five on each cheek seems fair.” He smirked as you clutched your purse to your chest at his proposition.

“I’m not going to be killed by Mikey because you want to hoe around.” Rindou spoke louder this time opening his car door, he walked behind Ran to kick him in the ass causing him to tumble into the backseat of the long car. Rindou bowed softly as he looked at you, he slammed the car door before walking to the other side of the car and getting in himself.

Ran sniffled as if he was crying, he peaked out the window and called you over. You stood your place only for him to cock his eyebrow at you. You sighed and walked to the car window, there he held his phone out with a smile, he didn’t have to say anything because you knew what he wanted. You put your number in his phone before handing it back to him.

“Perfect, I’ll text you. Make sure to give me a cute nickname in your phone yeah?” He put his phone in his pocket, he seemed to want to say more but Rindou cut him off.

“Text him so he’ll shut the fuck up.” With that he rolled up the window and you couldn’t see the brothers anymore, but you could hear them. More like hear sounds of Ran crying in pain as Rindou cursed him out and hit him.

You snickered to yourself ‘whoop his ass’ you thought as you felt a heavy weight be lifted off your shoulders. You took a deep exhale not realizing you were holding your breath since you’ve met Ran. At least you had peace for now, you straightened your hoodie out before setting out to your house.

Once you reached your house you felt relief, you wasted no time before ridding yourself of this disgusting hoodie. You threw it in the washer along with your soaking bra and other clothes, then hopping in the shower. Luckily neither your mother or brother were home, and your father was on a business trip, so you had the house to yourself. After your shower you decided to put more time into your appearance than normal, you snuck into your mother’s bathroom to steal a face mask. From an array of choices from your mother’s collection you chose a honey and mint clay face mask that promised soft skin and reduced pores, with a shrug you took it back to your bathroom before putting it on.

The clock read 4:45PM, you were hanging upside down on your bed unable to think of anything else but your hectic day and the menace that found his way into your life. With a sigh you held your phone up bored out of your mind, and that’s when you got it. A text.

Decided to turn my kinktober Ran chapter into a series, so here's the second chapter! If you wish to be added to the taglist then just let me know ❣️

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers smut #fluff #tokyo revengers crack #ran haitani x y/n #haitani ran headcanons #ran haitani #ran x reader #tokyo rev #tokyo revengers smau #Dull Series

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pilothusband · 3 years

Text

All Hail The King

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader

Warnings: Alcohol, oral sex, p in v sex, praise kink. I’m a horny bitch, okay? This is purely indulgent.

Word count: 5k

Author’s note: Special thanks to @wyn-dixie for reading this over before I posted it and for enabling this filth. ❤️ This idea entered my brain randomly and I had to write it out. Please let me know what you think! I want your feedback. If I had Photoshop I would have made an edit of Frankie with a crown for this but I don’t have it so here’s this gif instead.

The bar is humming with activity, but the table you’re nestled at in the back provides enough shelter to allow you all to converse without having to yell at each other.

You’ve been nursing a glass of water for a while now, since you’re the designated driver this week. It doesn’t bother you, though— you’re just happy to be out with your friends.

Every once in a while you steal a glance over at Frankie, who’s sitting diagonally across the table, next to Santiago who is directly across from you. Benny is to your left, his large body crowding you into the wall, and his brother Will is at the head of the table.

“Hey Fish,” Benny claps a hand on his shoulder. The force of his hand jostles Frankie’s solid body backwards a little, but to his credit he doesn’t flinch. “How are things with that girl you were seeing? Jennessa? Jennifer?”

You take a sip of your water and look down at the table to mask your interest at the sudden change in conversation.

“Jessica,” Frankie clears his throat. “They aren’t. We didn’t have much in common so she broke it off after a few dates.”

Queue the internal cheering. Jessica was a bit of a wet mop, to be honest. She never had anything to say when Frankie brought her around and she would scoff at everything that was slightly unsavory in her eyes. Deep down, you had to come to terms with the jealous twinge you felt in your gut every time she would squeeze Frankie’s shoulder affectionately, her immaculately manicured nails pressed harshly into his jacket.

“I’m sorry, Fish,” Benny said, slinging his arm around the man, the clumsy movement knocking his hat slightly askew. “Her loss, brother.”

“Here here,” Santi agrees, raising his bottle in the air. “To the king!”

Benny cheers clinks his bottle against Santiago’s echoing his sentiment. Will huffs out a laugh and Frankie groans, hiding his face in his hands.

You gape at the two men in question, but they just giggle like a couple of school girls.

“I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty,” you say, trying to figure out what they’re talking about. You look over at Frankie as he takes an impatient sip from his drink.

Benny just about spits out a mouthful of beer onto the table.

“Shut the fuck up, guys.” Frankie warns his friends. “Seriously.” Santi and Benny give him an innocent look. Will focuses his gaze on the bottle he’s holding, picking at the paper label, damp and curling at the edges from condensation .

Santiago leans towards you, his breath hot in your ear.

“We call him the pussy eating king.”

You thank the powers above you weren’t mid-sip, because the choked sound that emits from your throat was both involuntary and sudden. Heat blossoms in your stomach and your thighs clench together as you make eye contact with Frankie. He looks away nervously, embarrassed even.

“So was this a self coronation or..” You trail off, grinning at the flush on Frankie’s cheeks.

“It was that really talkative chick he was seeing for a while,” Benny says, turning to you. “Brianna?”

“Brenda,” Frankie sighs.

“So Brenda crowned you the pussy eating king?” You ask Frankie, who still refuses to meet your eyes.

He grumbles in response, waving off the subject.

“Yeah, she went on about it in detail for the whole night one time. I think you were away for a work trip or something” Santiago is absolutely smirking, loving the way Frankie is physically shrinking under the group’s attention. “Come on Fish, don’t be so modest. You’re a beast in the sack, it’s a good thing!”

You smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. You remember why you weren’t there. It was because you couldn’t stand seeing Frankie so happy with another woman, so you feigned sick.

“Well, I can see why things with Brenda didn’t last,” you respond, knowing Frankie was kind of a private guy. “But hey, at least she can tell all her friends she got the royal treatment while it lasted.”

Benny, Santiago and even Will all roar with laughter, fists banging raucously on the table. Frankie huffs out an embarrassed laugh, despite himself.

“Yeah, yeah,” he takes a swig of his beer, emptying it. “I need another drink.”

“Hey Ben, what time is your fight next week again?” Will calls over to his brother. You’re grateful for the change of subject. Frankie’s had enough torture for one night and you aren’t sure how many more details about Frankie’s sexual prowess your nether regions can take.

Benny turns towards Will to talk about his upcoming match and you take a sip from your glass to try to hide how flustered you’re feeling. Did this bar get hot all of a sudden?

The glass lands back down with a dull thump and you look up to find Santiago studying you, his eyebrow raised.

“What?” You don’t mean to sound aggressive, but his gaze is unnerving, as if he’s trying to suss out something you’re hiding.

“Nothing, nothing at all.” He smirks and tips up his beer, taking a long gulp. You roll your eyes at him and look down to pick at your nails.

A few moments later, Frankie returns with a fresh beer and you can feel Santiago turning his face in your direction again to read your body language. You school your reaction, fingers digging painfully into your pint glass. Sometimes Pope is too fucking nosy for his own good.

He must lose interest after a moment though, because he turns his attention back to Benny, who’s still talking about his upcoming fight.

The topic doesn’t come up again, thankfully, and you’ve dropped all the boys off at their separate destinations, save for Frankie, who lives the closest to you.

The car ride alone with him isn’t as tense as you were expecting, since his tongue has been loosened with the fair amount of alcohol he’s had tonight. You both chat easily about the upcoming week and how much you’re dreading going back to work on Monday.

You can’t resist one smart remark though, as you pull up to Frankie’s house.

“Your castle awaits, my liege,” you quip, trying and failing to hide your amused smile as you look over at him.

Frankie throws his head back and laughs freely, opening the car door with a wink.

“Goodnight, my queen,” he bows exaggeratedly before shutting the car door.

The butterflies don’t tamp down until you’re securely inside your own apartment, locking the door behind you.

That night was a month ago, which means it’s been a whole fucking month since your brain flew the coop. Every time Frankie does just about anything with his mouth, everything else around you ceases to exist.

Take last Thursday, for example. Frankie dropped by after work to help you change your porch light, since the fixture is too heavy and the light is too high up to easily reach.

He steps up the ladder with ease, unscrewing the fixture and holding it with his left hand. He puts the screwdriver in his mouth so he can hold onto the ladder as he gingerly hands you the fixture. You grab onto it and hand him the replacement bulb so he can swap them out.

He gets the lightbulb in and gestures towards you to hand the fixture back, which he screws back in before stepping down.

“Blegh,” he wipes his mouth on his sleeve, an action that has your last two brain cells screeching to a halt. “Screwdrivers taste awful.”

His statement is cute, self-deprecating, and you try to respond appropriately but all you can do is gape at him like a fish out of water.

‘Get your shit together, he’s wiping off the taste of rust, not your pussy,’ you try to mentally shake yourself out of your stupor, but it does no good.

He turns back towards his toolbox to drop the screwdriver in and close the lid.

“All set,” he says, dusting off his jeans. He sounds a little uneasy, probably because you’re acting like a complete weirdo.

“Thank you so much, Frankie. I really appreciate it.” You find your manners and pull him in for a hug, secretly reveling in how good he smells.

“Any time,” he tells you as he wraps his arms around you and squeezes softly.

Before he pulls away you make a spur of the moment decision, and reach up to give him a small kiss on the cheek. He’s so impossibly warm and so inviting, you can feel your heart flutter in your chest. The sparse hairs on his face tickle your chin.

Frankie clears his throat and ducks his head down, mumbling a hurried goodbye before he heads back to his truck, toolbox in hand. You don’t miss the way his lips are turned up and the crows feet make an appearance in the corner of his eyes, nor do you miss the brilliant flush that spreads over his face and down his neck.

It’s Saturday now and your torment knows no end. You decide you’re too tired to go out and opt to invite the guys over for a movie night, to which they all agree.

You decide you’ll just have to look away every time Frankie takes a sip of a drink, or eats a handful of popcorn. Or God forbid, if he licks his lips.

The group chat has been a nightmare, with everyone trying to come up with a movie to watch. Benny wants to watch The Expendables, Will mentioned something about wanting to see Dunkirk for ages now and Santi is playing devil’s advocate, disagreeing with all of their choices but not coming up with one of his own.

Frankie has been quiet in the chat, besides initially agreeing to come over initially.

It’s 9:00 PM, you have a 30 rack of beers in the fridge and some popcorn set out for everyone. All you have to do now is wait for the guys to arrive. Your phone chimes with a notification from Benny.

Benny and the Jets 🥊: Sorry lady, I got called in for a last minute practice. Raincheck?

Ironhead 🦸🏼: I gotta duck out too. The lady wants to have a date night. Sorry!

You type out a reply to them, a little disappointed but bidding them a good night all the same.

A knock sounds on the door and you rush over to answer it. The door swings open to reveal Frankie, wearing the softest looking navy blue hoodie you’ve ever seen, along with his Standard Oil cap. He looks as unsure as ever, holding a bottle of red wine.

You chirp an over-enthusiastic greeting, internally cringe at it, and step aside to welcome him in.

“I know you like red wine, so I got some for you on the way here. I hope it’s the kind you like.”

You accept the wine and look at the label. It’s a California Zinfandel. You can’t believe he remembered your favorite wine.

“I love it, thank you so much.” You pull him into a hug, nuzzling into the soft material of his sweatshirt. He returns the hug just as enthusiastically, pulling away to kiss your forehead.

“Is Santiago on his way?” You ask, padding into the kitchen to grab a glass from your cabinet. “Do you want a glass? Or I have some beer if you’d prefer.”

“Beer is perfect, thanks,” he says a little breathily as he looks over at you. “Santiago said something came up and that he’s sorry.”

Something feels a little fishy with the three of them ducking out all at the same time, but you don’t mention it as you hand him a beer and search through your drawer for a bottle opener. A few minutes later, you’re both set up on the couch and are scrolling through Netflix for a movie.

“I have no idea what to watch. Do you?”

“Want to watch Civil War? I know the guys will bitch we’re continuing the rewatch without them but they can deal.”

You tip your head back and laugh, navigating over to your Disney+ app.

Frankie takes off his hat and sets it aside while you spread a blanket over your laps, braving a chance to scoot closer to him. He takes the hint and wraps his arm behind your shoulders, nestling you closer to his chest. You settle in and try to pay attention to the movie, despite the wild fluttering that is taking place in your stomach.

Frankie shifts uncomfortably and winces a little. You can tell he’s trying to hide it, but little does he know you’ve been watching every single movement he makes like a hawk. Or a nervous lap dog.

“Does your back hurt? I can move,” you start to get up but Frankie grabs onto your wrist and pulls you back in.

“No, stay. I just need to find a comfortable position.”

You make a soft noise of surprise when he lifts you up and pulls you towards him, settling back so he’s spread out on the couch. You’re settled on top of him, your legs stretched out over his with your back to the cushion, half draped over his torso.

This position has your heart thumping hard in your chest. His face was just a few inches from yours. All he’d have to do is tilt his face towards yours, and you’d be practically kissing.

Focusing on the movie is harder than ever. Your left hand rests on Frankie’s chest and your right is near his head. Without even thinking, you reach out and start stroking your fingers through his soft curls. He hums contentedly, the pleasant sound rumbling through his chest.

A hand makes its way up your arm leaving goosebumps in its wake, landing on your shoulder.

You brave a glance at Frankie and feel your heart stutter in your chest when you realize he’s been looking at you. His eyes are as dark as ever, twinkling against the flicker of your TV.

He closes the gap and captures your lips in a tender kiss. His lips are warm and soft, melding to yours perfectly. The brush of your mouths together is intoxicating. Your tongue darts out to lick at him and he complies, letting out a guttural moan at the sensation as your tongues meet languidly.

You shift your leg so it slots between his and both of your hands find his shoulders and squeeze them, eliciting a soft mewl from Frankie’s mouth. His hands are hot on your back and he slides one down to your ass, kneading the soft flesh over your leggings.

Your hips press into his, rutting into him, soft pants falling from your mouth– mingling with his. You need to be closer, closer, closer. He tightens his grip on your ass in response and rolls his hips so you can feel how hard he is against your belly.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasps, breaking the kiss, words tumbling out between his ragged breaths.

You can feel yourself throbbing for him, wetness rushing to your core as his hushed baritone makes your head spin with need. Somewhere in the back of your mind you’re convinced this is a dream. That there’s no way you’re dry humping the man of your dreams on your couch right now.

You duck down to hide your expression, not wanting to ruin the moment with your anxiety and doubt. You’ll take whatever this man gives you, even if it’s just this moment.

You busy yourself by peppering small kisses on his neck, trailing them up to his jaw.

“Hey,” he slows your movements and holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up gently up to look at him.

“I want you. I want this. Do you?”

You feel the urge to look away, his gaze is intense and laser-focused on you. Eye contact has never been your strong suit, so this was a lot for you to handle. But you fight the urge to flinch and stare back, searching to see if there was anything that will give away any trepidations. His expression remains hard set, serious but not unkind. It’s just like Frankie to have eyes as clear as day, giving away all of his secrets. They’re just like him— strong, unrelenting in their hardness and softness.

“Yes,” you reply. Your voice cracks a little, thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted this, wanted you, for so long.”

You feel embarrassment wash over you with the admission, but Frankie doesn’t let it last long before you crushes his lips to yours in a searing kiss. He breaks it off after a moment, lips swollen and pink.

“Baby, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to hear you say that.”

He strokes a hand down your jaw, his thumb caressing your skin as a goofy smile blooms over your face.

“I want to make you feel good, baby,” he whispers, his thumb catching on the swell of your bottom lip. “Will you let me make you feel good?”

You blink and swallow heavily, a fresh wave of arousal flooding to your center as the deep rasp of his voice utters those words, smooth as caramel– dousing over you like kerosene on a fire.

You nod, not trusting your voice at this very moment.

“I need you to say it out loud, honey,” he says, his lips brushing against yours ever so lightly.

“Yes, Francisco,” you breathe out. “Make me feel good.”

He bites your bottom lip and tugs, then growls playfully before he grabs your shoulders and flips you over. You let out a delighted shriek, giggling as he lifts up the hem of your shirt and kisses every inch of skin that’s revealed.

“Wait,” you call out. He stops his movements immediately. “You first.”

Frankie grins. You want to press your fingers into the dimple that appears and feel the scratch of his beard under your nails. He leans back and lifts his sweatshirt over his head, the grey t-shirt he’s wearing sticks to the inside of it and he rolls both garments down his arms.

His chest is bare to you now, smooth except for a smattering of hairs in the middle of his chest, and a patch leading down into his jeans. You want to reach out and run your hands down the planes of his torso and follow the path of hair, but your arms aren’t long enough to reach.

You remove your shirt, leaving you in your leggings and bra. It’s a soft lace number, a delicate pink with no underwire. You watch as his hungry gaze roams over your chest. To your surprise, he doesn’t motion for you to take it off. Instead, he leans over you, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

He moves downwards, tongue darting out to taste the salt of your neck. He continues his path and mouths between your breasts, one of his hands reaches out to squeeze the plump flesh in his large hand. You nipple instantly pebbles under his ministrations and he pulls the fabric aside to tease it with the pad of his finger. You moan softly at the sensation and yelp in surprise when he sucks it into his mouth and bites it, soothing the sharp sting with a flick of his tongue.

“Mmm, love how responsive you are already,” he hums, moving down. Your back arches as his mouth makes a hot trail down the rest of your torso. You look down and notice he’s left wet patches where his mouth has been, coating you in saliva and leaving goosebumps in his wake.

He reaches the waistband of your leggings and pushes them down, letting out a strangled groan when he gets an eyeful of your panties, the same shade of pink that matches the bra you’re wearing.

“So fucking sexy,” he breathes.

He peels your panties down your legs and pulls them off along with your leggings, leaving you completely bare from the bottom down. You start to cross your legs to hide yourself, feeling self-conscious at how exposed you are, but Frankie grabs your thigh to halt the movement.

“You better not hide this pretty pussy from me,” he says, licking his lips.

You half expect him to dive in, but he takes a moment to look at you. He’s resting a hand on your hip. His pointer finger makes a path down, tracing an invisible line up and down your slit. You hiss at the ghost of his touch and thrust your hips towards his hand, seeking out more friction.

Frankie lets out an amused chuckle at your reaction and leans forward to plant a wet kiss to your inner thigh. You let out a shaky breath in anticipation– your heart feels like it’s beating out of your chest. He kisses up your thigh until he reaches the apex between your legs, then licks a stripe through your folds with the flat of his tongue, pulling a surprised gasp from your parted lips.

He sucks your clit into his mouth and you can’t help it– you buck up into his mouth and grab onto his hair and tug at the strands. He grabs onto the flesh of your hip and whimpers into your pussy. Despite being almost dizzy with need, you feel a rush of power knowing you have this effect on him.

“You taste so fucking good. So wet for me,” he punctuates his words with bold licks up and down. “Never want to stop.”

He changes patterns, making tight circles on your clit with his tongue. The sudden switch has you mewling and your legs clamp around his head involuntarily. Frankie grabs your thighs and wrenches them apart, hooking them over his shoulders as he latches onto your pussy. His hands are on your ass, holding you up as your back arches off the couch.

All you can do is scramble at the cushions below you for purchase as Frankie buries his face into your cunt, lapping at you with abandon. His tongue licks into you with an intensity you’ve never experienced before; it has you seeing stars.

You have no idea how he knows exactly how to manipulate your body to pull the pleasure from you so naturally. Every lick feels like it’s searching for treasure, every suck hits somewhere deep inside, reverberating through the muscles of your thighs and up in your abdomen.

He gently places you back down to the cushions and rubs at your entrance with his pointer finger, looking up at you for permission.

“Yes, please–“ you whimper brokenly. He complies immediately and plunges it into you, following with a second finger, and curls them up. His pace is slow at first and he flicks his tongue out to play with your clit at the same time. He’s soon spurred on by your moans and sets a brutal pace. You once again feel the urge to clamp around him to increase the pressure, but Frankie uses his broad shoulders to hold your thighs apart.

Seeing his shoulders, bare and perspiring from his intensive movements, so wide and flushed, coupled with the furrow of his brow, his eyes pinched closed, makes something primal within you awaken. You barely have time to feel your orgasm coming before it’s hitting you– thighs shaking, back arching, hands in his hair. You don’t even realize it, but you;’re shrieking his name, chanting it like a prayer. He’s groaning in reply, milking you through it with his fingers and tongue, lapping up your release, syrupy sweet and indulgent.

He doesn’t stop until you’re flinching from overstimulation. He kisses up your body lazily, taking his time before capturing your lips. You kiss him back, licking into his mouth and tasting yourself on his tongue. He grinds into you, his jean-clad erection rubs against your aching cunt and rekindles the fire, molten heat shooting through your entire body.

“Wanna fuck you so bad, baby,” he says, panting the words into your mouth.

You moan and break the kiss.

“Want to take this to my room?”

He doesn’t reply, but instead swings his body off the couch and picks you up bridal-style. He stumbles a little with the first steps and you both laugh, kissing each other with each step he takes towards your bedroom.

He tosses you onto the bed softly and you let loose another delighted giggle when Frankie flops over you dramatically, caging you in his arms. Your tongues tangle together in an impossibly sensual kiss. He’s momentarily distracted, caught up in the feel of your body underneath his with the soft touches of your tongue, and you take the opportunity to roll him over and straddle his hips.

Frankie is looking up at you as if he’s in awe, like he can’t believe you’re here right now, naked from the waist down and grinding down on his hard cock, tenting his jeans.

You move down his body and zip his fly down, pushing down the denim along with his boxer briefs. His cock springs free, hard and hot and leaking at the tip. You can’t help but lick the bead of precum, and a broken whine rips from Frankie’s throat. His hands are clenched into the sheets, knuckles white with how hard he’s gripping the mattress beneath him.

You’re bobbing your mouth up and down his length, tongue licking around his shaft and cheeks hollowing out. His moans are loud, constant. He’s babbling praise, telling you how fucking amazing your mouth feels, how badly he wants to fuck you. It’s a heady feeling, bringing a strong and quiet man to his knees like this. You love that he’s letting you know how much he’s breaking for you.

Your tongue finds its way down to his balls and you suck them into your mouth, moaning at the musky taste. His moans are high pitched now and his hand is squeezing your shoulder.

“Baby, you gotta stop,” he grabs onto your hair to pause your movements. “I need to feel you.”

You give him one last broad lick up his shaft and shift back up, and look down at Frankie to catalogue the number you’ve done on him. He’s absolutely wrecked– brown eyes blown wide, chest rising and falling rapidly with his uneven breaths.

You remove your bra, stretching it over your head and throwing it to the side. Frankie follows the movement and lets out a needy, staccato moan at the sight of you, completely bare before him.

You reach down and kiss him soundly on the mouth, lining his cock up with your entrance.

“I’ve got you, baby boy,” you coo, sinking down on his length.

“Fuck,” he grits out between his teeth.

You give yourself a moment to get used to his size and rock into him. His hands fly up to your chest, squeezing lightly and rolling your nipples in between his fingers.

“So fucking big,” you pant out. “So good for me.”

It seems Frankie loves praise as much as you do, evidenced by the twitch of his cock inside you.

Your pace is agonizingly slow. You’re trying to tease out the moment, stretch it out so it lasts forever. It doesn’t last long– you can’t stand it anymore. You bounce up and down on him, snapping your hips when they meet his.

“So fucking perfect,” he pants out. “Wanna fuck you from behind.”

You breathe out a moan and stop your movements. Frankie mistakes your pause for hesitation and reaches up to brush the hair out of your face.

“We don’t have to,” he says, voice gentle, brow furrowed in concern.

“No, fuck. No, Frankie. I want to.”

You gingerly get up and whimper at the loss when he’s no longer inside you. Frankie sits up, shoulders rocking forward and cock bobbing with his movement as he settles onto his knees. You watch him and bite your lip, getting on all fours and lifting your ass up in the air to present yourself to him.

Frankie can’t help the groan that falls from his lips and sinks forward to lay an open-mouthed kiss on your pussy from behind before he lines himself up. He enters you without hesitation, hips slapping against your ass rhythmically, setting a decisively fast pace.

All you can hear is the filthy sounds of your wet pussy as he pounds into you, along with your strangled moans, and his heavy breathing, laced with whispers of praise you can’t discern. The waves of pleasure are too much, too strong. You can feel the familiar build up of an orgasm. Your head is in the clouds as it climbs and climbs– then crashes.

His fingers on your clit is what does you in. Your whole body shakes and all you can do is whimper and moan around his cock while he fucks into you. The strong, practiced rock of his hips become sloppy as he chases his release, muttering words of adoration into the air as he pulls out and cums, spilling onto your back. He pulls every last drop out of his cock before collapsing over you, forehead resting on your spine as he catches his breath.

“Fuck, baby,” he says, once he’s caught his breath. “Should have done this ages ago.”

You both laugh and Frankie gets up to grab a wet face towel from the bathroom

A little while later, you’re both in bed, blissed out and wrapped up around each other. The movie, drinks and snacks are all forgotten. All that matters is here and now– your breaths mingling together as you kiss each other lazily, tongues probing slowly.

In the other room, both of your phones ping on the coffee table with unheard notifications.

The first text is from Santiago.The other boys follow suit, not a minute apart.

Pope 🤦🏻‍♂️: 👑

Benny and the Jets 🥊: 👑

Ironhead 🦸🏼: 👑

Neither of you see the texts until the next morning.

The following weekend, it’s Santiago’s turn to be the designated driver. He’s parked outside of Frankie’s house, waiting to pick both of your asses up. He starts to tap his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel after the first 15 minutes.

“What the fuck are they doing in there?” He asks Will and Benny. They all know the answer, but don’t say anything.

Meanwhile, Frankie has you crowded against the front door, your sundress is hiked up and his face is buried in your pussy. Neither of you can hear the sound of Santi’s impatient honking over your moans.

And if you end up going to the bar sans panties because you can’t find them before Santiago is pounding his fist on the door, well that’s just a secret you and Frankie will have to keep.

Taglist: @tenderclio @softdin @darnitdraco @freeshavocadoooo @recklessworry @wyn-dixie @manalg14 @codenamewife @comphersjost @princessxkenobi @manalg14 @comphersjost @a-skov @sheresh0y @greeneyedblondie44 @blackmarketmummy @brandyllyn @gracie7209 @bootyliciousbilbo @dobbyjen

#frankie morales #frankie morales smut #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales #francisco catfish morales #triple frontier #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #francisco morales pilot of my heart #all hail francisco morales pussy eating king

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stardustedangel · 3 years

Text

Red Light

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pairing || ransom drysdale x fem!reader

word count || 2.4k

summary || you and ransom have some fun in his car after you had been begging for some special attention

warnings || 18+ ; minors DNI ; teasing, fingering, oral sex (m receiving), finger sucking, car sex, semi-publix sex, unprotected sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, slight degradation

author’s note || first fic in over two months so i’m nervous but hope everyone likes it <333 YOU DO NOT HAVE ANY PERMISSION TO RE-PUBLISH, TRANSLATE, OR TAKE ANY OF MY WORK.

⊱ ━━━━━━━━.⋅ ෆ ⋅.━━━━━━━━ ⊰

There you were, sitting in the passenger seat while your hands were fidgeting with the hem of your slip dress in a sad attempt to keep your hands off of the man driving. You glanced over at Ransom and clenched your thighs at the sight beside you.

Nostrils flared. Eyebrows furrowed. Bottom lip pulled between his teeth and two fingers were placed against his temple in an attempt to rub out his growing irritation. God, it was a sight to see. You tried to keep the small smile threatening to show as pride bubbled in your chest knowing that you were able to work up a reaction like this from him.

You knew you should’ve been embarrassed with what had happened in the last thirty minutes. Ransom and you had been at a bar drinking with some of his friends when you all but begged him to leave. He’d refused the first few times you had asked, throwing you an eye roll and telling you that you’d both leave with the next hour, but when your hand palmed at his subtle bulge under the table he dragged you to the car, but not without throwing his friends a half-hearted apology.

You’d been thinking of something to say. Maybe asking him where he was going as if you didn’t know. Just something to break the tension in the car—something that would hopefully end in him taking you over the hood of his car. It only took a few more seconds of rubbing your thighs together and mouth opening and closing time after time trying to force words out before a whimper tumbled its way out of your mouth. Your head fell against the headrest in embarrassment, but your thighs didn’t stop their movements.

Ransom’s eyes left the road for a split second to take in your hazy appearance, either from the alcohol or from how needy you were, and eyes shifting lower to see the way your dress was slowly slipping up each time your thighs shifted together.

Ransom’s eyes returned to the road as he let out a deep sigh. “What are you doing?” Thank god he said something.

You let out a frustrated whine, confused as to why Ransom was taking his sweet time on the road instead of fucking you the minute you two got into the car. You were even more annoyed that he wasn’t showing you attention while driving—no hands on you and only one gaze your way since he’s been driving.

“Waiting for you to do something,” you whined while your body slightly thrashed in the seat.

Ransom couldn’t stop the amused quirk of his eyebrow, “Oh?” Ransom halted the car when he saw the light flick to red and looked over at you lazily. “What exactly should I do, baby?”

“Fuck me,” you said bluntly with a whine trailing off at the end of your words.

You slid your left hand across the center console and set your hand on Ransom’s upper thigh. You squeezed lightly before trailing your hand to rest on his bulge, squeezing again all while making eye contact with Ransom. He twisted his face in mock sympathy, leaning over the console sweetly holding your hand that was placed over him. You were quick to lean into him, thinking he was going to finally give you what you want before he tossed your hand back into your own lap and started driving again when the light turned green.

You groaned and sunk further into your seat, crossing your arms over your chest. “Fucking tease.”

Ransom chuckled and rolled his eyes at your words. “That’s rich coming from you, baby.”

Truth be told, Ransom would have no problem fucking you in his car—maybe ever pulling over and bending you over the hood while he gave to you as good and hard as you always liked it, but where would the fun be in that? He loved watching the way you got yourself worked up all night, trying desperately to drag Ransom away from his friends so he’d touch you or give you anything. And he loved seeing you squirm in the seat of his car, practically dripping onto the seat. Ransom was willing and looking forward to seeing how far you’d take things.

“I can’t wait till we get home. Can we do something now, please? I just,” you cut yourself off when you let out a desperate sigh, “I can’t wait, Ransom.”

Though his eyes were still focused on the road you pouted up towards him. Putting on your most innocent, pleading expression you could and leaning in towards him. His eyes left the road to connect with your bright ones, feeling a small part inside of him twinge in pity. A bigger part of him felt pride, amusement, and all and all—need.

Ransom saw the way you were eyeing his bulge and his mouth quirked up in a smirk as he relaxed further into his seat. “You have until we get home, kitten. Better make it quick.”

You squealed in excitement. Hands sliding over the center console and working on the button and zipper of Ransom’s pants, hand reaching beneath his underwear to pull his cock out. You didn’t know how long you’d have till the two of you would be home, but you figured choking on his cock was a good way to pass the time.

Your right hand worked over the bright red tip, smearing his precum around. Your hand left his cock for a split second to spit into it before returning and working your hand up and down. Ransom let out a low groan, grip tightening around the wheel as your own tightened around him.

You barely paid attention to the reactions that you were getting out of Ransom, instead choosing to focus on the movements on your hand. With each pull upward your thumb rubbed over his tip. After a couple of minutes, you leaned your head down to lick his tip, then dragged your tongue down to lick the underside of his cock. Ransom let out a shaky breath, hand coming to rest on your head and thread through your hair, not pulling or tugging, just simply resting there.

You finally took him down your throat, mouth wide and eyes closed as you reveled in the feeling of some of your needs being satiated. You always loved taking Ransom down your throat; having him use you any way he liked. Your left hand grasped onto his thigh while your right continued to work over the parts of him that you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Oh, fuck,” Ransom quietly let out, but you still heard it. You moaned in response and Ransom’s hips quickly thrust up, eliciting a gag from you. You kept your mouth on him, but only quickened your pace.

“Fuck, baby. Your mouth is so warm. Fuck- feels so good.”

Your mouth came down harder and quicker, taking him down your throat even further, taking pleasure in every sound that Ransom made. Ransom shuddered above and had to make a conscious effort to slow down the car. He hadn’t noticed how hard his foot was pressed down on the gas pedal until he was forced to slow to a red light. He was grateful that it was only him and a couple of other cars on the road.

Ransom’s grip then tightened in your hair, pulling you up and down faster as he continued fucking your mouth. He was chasing his high and all you could do was wait for him to come down your throat. As he chased his high, your hand moved back towards yourself and under your dress, rubbing your clit through your lace panties before shoving two fingers into your pussy. Ransom took notice of this and his hand left your hair, yet his thrusts never ceased. He spanked your ass that was arched high in the air as you played with yourself, making you moan and jolt forward.

“Playing with yourself while taking me down your throat? You’re such a dirty girl, fuck. Such a dirty girl letting me fuck this warm mouth right here.” Ransom’s words spurred you on, making your cunt clench. He spanked your ass again, noticing you getting closer to your high.

“Fuck, kitten. That’s right. Come all over those pretty, little fingers. Be my good girl.” You moaned against his cock and your hips started to rock over your own fingers.

It only took a few more rolls of your hips for you to come, whimpering and loaning on Ransom’s cock while he palmed at your ass. Ransom pulled you off him with a pop. “Ransom,” you whined up at him needily. Eyes glassy and lips red and swollen. He took a firm grip on your jaw, pulling your mouth onto his, tongues moving over one another’s before pulling away.

Ransom’s previous plans of driving home had been long abandoned. He quickly put the car in park, not caring that he had just stopped fully at the light—not like there were any cars around anyways. Ransom looked at you with a smirk on his face. “Change of plans,” he grabbed your waist and swung you into his lap, “I’m gonna give you exactly what you want right now.”

You moaned and started to rut against Ransom’s cock the moment you were settled in his lap. His head teased your folds as he pulled your panties to the side and used his right hand to move the car seat back. When the seat jerked you gasped and pulled at the collar of Ransom’s shirt eagerly. “Fuck me, please, Ransom. Need it so bad.”

“Don’t worry, kitten,” Ransom lined himself up at your entrance and placed his hands on your hips before looking at you with a mockingly sweet look in his eyes, “I got you.”

Ransom then thrust up into you the same moment he pushed you down onto him. You cursed loudly at the feeling of being stretched out so deliciously. The feeling you had been waiting for all night was finally here and your body moved quicker than your mind did as you started to ride Ransom.

Your hands settled on Ransom’s shoulders while his fell to your hips fastening your pace. His nails were biting into your skin leaving crescent-shaped marks that you were sure you were going to see the next day. His head tipped back and his mouth fell open at how warm and tight you felt around him.

“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around me. Can’t wait to come in this tight, little cunt, baby.”

You sobbed and threw your head back when the head of his cock hit the special place inside of you that had you squirming. You could already feel your next orgasm building from your last and started to pull at the collar of Ransom’s shirt desperately. You looked at him with dark, lust-blown eyes and whimpered. “Ransom,” you gasped and swallowed in an attempt to get the words out, “kiss me.”

Ransom was quick to wrap his hand around your neck and pull you into him. Your lips slid together as his tongue slipped into your mouth and played with yours. His hand on your neck tightened and as the kiss continued you were slowly becoming light-headed. Everything felt like too much yet not enough at the same time. Each time you wanted to pull away from the pleasure you were only further encouraged by yourself to dive in deeper.

Ransom's tongue licked over your bottom lip as he pulled away and used his grip on your throat to bounce you harder onto him as his hips thrust in time to meet your movements. His hand previously on your hip went to play with your neglected, throbbing clit and that sent your upper body curling into Ransom.

“Ransom! F-fuck, I’m gonna come.” Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands as he groaned at your touch, and your face rested in the crook of his neck. Your mouth latched onto his neck, sucking and nipping marks that you hoped would last for days.

“Come for me, kitten. I’m right behind you.”

You quickly came undone around Ransom, clenching around his and hands tightening onto the tufts of hair between your fingers. Your hips rolled against his wanting to ride out your orgasm as long as you could. Ransom helped you along as his fingers circled and played with your clit as you came. Seconds later both of Ransom’s hands returned to your waist to bring you down onto him one last time as he crashed into his own climax. He mumbled your name over and over as he rode out his own high.

The two of you finished riding your highs out and your bodies were sat close together, exhausted and sweaty. When you had enough energy to move you sat up and threw Ransom a tired, but bright grin. He returned a smug grin of his own, hand coming to guide your face to his to place lazy kisses onto your lips. They weren’t as heated and desperate as before, but the passion was still there as the two of you lazily kissed.

Ransom separated from you and moved your body upwards slightly to pull himself out of you. He cockily admired the way his cum dripped out of you and used his fingers to push it back into you. He adjusted your panties back over yourself and tapped your thigh teasingly as he finished. Ransom pressed a kiss onto your collarbone and carefully maneuvered you back into your seat. “Let’s get you home. Alright, baby?”

You hummed and slumped back into your seat with a dopey grin on your face, your body feeling fully relaxed and your mind completely fucked out. “Yes, sir,” you said in a teasing manner.

“Oh, one more thing,” you said quietly and shuffled in your seat slightly as you beckoned Ransom to lean over the center console towards you. He did and let out a low 'yes, baby?’ as he did. You lined your lips up to his ear and giggled to yourself.

“The light’s green,” you whispered with a cheeky smile. You pressed a kiss to his cheek before settling back fully into your seat and bringing the seatbelt over your body, eyes closing in content. Ransom could only shake his head at you with a stupid, grin on his face as a breathy comment of ‘brat’ left his lips before he was buckling up himself and putting the car in drive, ready to leave the light that the two of you had been sitting at.

You giggled at his next teasing words and bit your lip in excitement. “Don’t get too tired, baby. You’re gonna wanna be up and ready for round two.”

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taglist || @donutloverxo @aquariuslavenderhoney @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @strawbeariefaerie @kenzieam @animnerd @capsiclecevanss @honeychicana @la-cey @nony-bear @doozywoozy @aubreeskailynn @melchills-j @white-wolf1940 @patzammit

(send me an ask if you want to be added <3)

#ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x y/n #ransom drysdale x fem!reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale oneshot #ransom drysdale one shot #ransom drysdale imagine #ransom drysdale imagines #ransom drysdale smut #knives out smut #chris evans x reader #chris evans x fem!reader #chris evans smut #༊‧₊˚. dest writes

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butwhyduh · 3 years

Note

Could you please write a fic with Tim and soft/passionate early morning sex?

The sun hadn’t yet peaked the horizon and there was a delicate soft pink light to the sky. Birds could be heard in the trees and the city down below was starting its day with car engines and movement.

Tim felt he could stay like this forever. He had the perfect summer AC to blanket ratio and the perfect pillow in his girlfriend’s apartment. If he closed his eyes, he could drift off for another few hours. But he didn’t want to. No he has something far more interesting in mind.

You were laying in his arms. Your face was pressed against his bare chest and you had one arm wrapped around his waist. One thigh was thrown over his leg and your leg tangled with his. Tim softly brush a finger over your back through the blanket. That and a thin camisole was the only things between his fingers and and your skin. You moved a little. Tim continued his fingers until you squirmed.

“Tim,” you mumbled. He smiled and hummed questioningly. Tim kissed your forehead and your eyes fluttered open.

“Morning,” he said in a rough morning voice.

“Good morning. You’re home,” you said with a grin. Tim felt a twinge of guilt. It shouldn’t be that novel that he’s home early in the morning.

“I missed you,” he admitted, pushing that feeling away. He’d just have to work harder to make it up to you. You gave him a look that couldn’t only be described as heart eyes.

“I missed you too,” you leaned up to kiss him. Tim inhaled your scent and reveled in your soft lips on his. He didn’t get this near enough. Certainly not the amount that you deserved. His fingers threaded in your hair and his other hand pulled you closer by the hip. Soon you were laying on top of him in a heated makeout.

His hand pulled up on the thin material of your nightshirt to grasp at a bare ass cheek. Tim pulled back from the kiss in surprise.

“No panties?” He questioned. You huffed a little amusement before shrugging a little self consciously. “Bad girl,” he whispered salaciously before giving you a long deep kiss as he kneaded your ass in both hands.

You moved your knees to either side of his hips and ran your hands across his chest as you kissed. Tim continued pulling your nightshirt up and off of you to toss it to the floor. You tugged at the waistband of his sweatpants he had slept in, the tent in the front obvious. Tim pulled his hips up and shoved it down to his knees where he kicked it off with some maneuvering.

You pressed your hips down to grind on his cock without taking it inside yourself. Tim immediately grabbed your hips and tilted his face up to kiss you. You bent and kissed him chastely before pressing back up to press your hands against his chest as your hips moved. The tip of his cock rubbed against your clit in a delicious way and your breathing picked up in pleasure.

Finally being unable to wait any longer, you sunk down on him inside you. You looked up at the ceiling and Tim watched your chest heave as your walls fluttered to take him. After a little bit you started moving in slow bounces and Tim couldn’t help but stare at the way your nipples moved with each bounce, the way your lips formed a soft o, and the way your bodies connected every time you sunk down.

He reached his thumb to rub your clit as you moved. He loved the soft whines and moans left your lips and he bit his lips to stop his own from spilling out. You reached over and pulled his lip from between his teeth.

“Let me hear you,” you said in a voice too husky to be anything other than sex. Tim groaned loudly at it and blushed in embarrassment. You didn’t even notice but arched your back. He felt your thighs tighten around his hips and your pace start to get erratic.

Your noises got louder and you starting cursing and saying his name in random patterns. He felt you clench tighter around him and it was all he could do to not cum right there. He started mentally reciting the periodic table and moved his thumb faster.

“Don’t stop,” you gasped desperately. A few more frantic bounces of your hips and you came. Your back arched back and you called his name and Tim couldn’t last any more and he too found his release buried deep inside you. The scrunch of his brow and little pants he made were downright adorable. You moved until Tim grabbed your hips to stop and you bent down to press your forehead against his.

You kissed him on the lips before rolling off beside him. Tim curled around you and pulled you tight to his form, both of you on your side with your head on his arm. He was such a cuddler afterward if you let him. He left little kisses along your hairline and forehead. You pressed your face against his chest to escape while giggling slightly. Tim laughed and kisses your hair one last time before stopping.

“Good morning, baby,” he said with a look of adoration you almost couldn’t stand. “What do you want to do on my one day off?”

#friday night smut #batboy x reader #tim drake x reader #dc #red robin x reader #red robin smut #tim drake smut #batboy smut

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Careless Words

Characters: Albedo, Childe, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,114

Warnings: Brief depiction of drunken character, swearing

Premise: Words are thrown around so carelessly, phrases, endearments, accusations. But when all is gone and only the words remain it can be difficult to pick up the pieces.

In which the reader and their s/o argue and make up.

Author’s Note: Ended up spending a good two hours on Albedo’s bit alone, wow I got carried away with this. Also I feel so bad for Childe, I’m sorry!

Not proofread cause I ran out of time, will do so tomorrow.

Albedo

“Do you even respect what I do?” Those words kept ringing through your ears, a bitter litany that fueled your anger just as it began to fade. Do you even respect what I do?

Of course you did, you respected him and his work very much, it was one of the first things that had drawn you to him, his inquisitiveness, his eternal questions, his determination to unlock the secrets of the world.

But really could he not do all that in his lab where all of his experiments and equipment belonged?

At first you hadn’t really paid attention, it was just a few plants after all. When you’d asked what they were for Albedo had smiled eagerly, replying that he wanted to see how different plants, especially those infused with elements, reacted to sunlight. You had just smiled then, although you were slightly worried about the mist flower freezing the ground around it. Still, it was a mundane enough experiment, and the plants looked very pretty on the windowsill. Nothing to worry about.

Well evidently that wasn’t quite the case because one experiment morphed into two morphed into five morphed into ten, until there seemed barely enough room to live among the beakers and graduated cylinders, the odd smells emanating from the various petri dishes which now scattered the coffee tables and the dressers.

It was becoming a nuisance, plain and simple. More than a few times you’d managed to almost tip something over, trying to grab a book off a shelf that was crammed with small boxes of various specimen, or almost putting a pot down on a counter covered with vials of whooper-flower nectars. You couldn’t live like this, and though you wanted to let Albedo carry on as uninhibited as possible, it couldn’t go on any longer. You were going to scream.

“Albedo, can we talk?”

“Of course.” Albedo looked up from the microscope he’d managed to cram on the coffee table. You let out a smile that quickly morphed into a grimace, making your way to the couch, careful not to bump into the table.

“Albedo, I love your passion in all that you do, but you really do have to tidy up a bit. I’m sorry I know it’s a bit of an inconvenience, but it’s just becoming a little difficult, you understand?”

“It’s only a few experiments.” Albedo replied, gaze still fixated on whatever he was observing. You felt a twinge of frustration, had he even heard you?

“This is serious Albedo. I don’t want to ruin any of your experiments, but it’s really becoming an impossible situation. We can barely cook for fear of crashing into something, and I’ve started waking up to the smell of fire flowers burning. Can’t you move one or two things into your laboratory?” You tried to keep your tone light, hoping that this time would be more successful. It was very irritating to feel like you weren’t being heard.

“I have an important experiment going on at the lab. It needs space and air. So I’m just moving everything here for the time being.”

“How long is that going to take?” You asked, once again feeling frustration rising up. He couldn’t even look up at you.

“Three weeks or so.”

“Three weeks?” You couldn’t help but let out a cry. “Albedo I’m sorry I cannot live like this for three weeks.”

“Why not.” It wasn’t even a question.

“Please look at me.” You finally said, tone dropping to one that made no attempt to hide your growing irritation. Albedo let out a curt sigh, glancing over at you with a disinterested sort of gaze. “You have to move some of this stuff out Albedo. It would be one thing if it was a week, but three? We can barely live right now, what are we supposed to do for the next three weeks?”

“I don’t know.” Albedo scowled in a dismissive tone. “I think you’re making too much of it.”

“And I think you aren’t listening. Are you even hearing what I’m saying? Even processing the situation? Or are you so focused on that microscope that you can’t see that your partner is besides themselves.”

“You seem fine to me,” Albedo’s tone continued its aloof cadence, “I don’t see why you can’t just wait three weeks. You’re being awfully demanding.”

“I…” for a moment you were speechless, feeling as if you were fighting a losing battle, why was it so much easier for Albedo so say words that meant nothing at all while you were quickly finding yourself losing your cool? “You aren’t listening to me!” You finally managed to get out, knowing by this time you were awfully close to shouting but too frustrated to care.

“And you aren’t listening to me,” Albedo’s tone finally began to inch into something a little more emotional, you weren’t sure why but it gave you a hint of satisfaction, “do you even respect what I do? Or are you too wrapped up in yourself.”

It was like getting punched in the gut.

“Fine.” You stepped away almost knocking into a dresser crammed with empty equipment. For a moment you wondered what you could say that would hurt him so much but quickly gave it up. You were too angry to think straight anyways; right now you just wanted to get out.

“Where are you going?” Albedo’s tone seemed to have shrunk back to its previous range.

You didn’t even respond, not bothering to gather anything up as you made your way to the door. Albedo called out your name once. You responded by slamming the door as hard as you could on your way out.

•

At first Albedo simply went back to his observations, trying to ignore the negative feelings that churned inside him. How dare you, he thought, how dare you take him and his work so lightly. Maybe it was good that you were getting out of the house, Albedo wasn’t sure how long he could’ve lasted until he lapsed into that horrible shrieking as well. “How embarrassing.” He murmured to himself, as if that would drown the unease. Still the fight was new and the emotions were raw. He wasn’t about to ponder the matter anytime soon.

This carefree attitude slipped a bit when you didn’t come home for dinner. Still he simply sighed and went to cook for himself. By now his anger had cooled extensively and he was beginning to feel a bitter sort of regret. Maybe he had been to harsh, though he still wasn’t ready to admit he was wrong. No, you were just being dramatic, and though he should’ve been kinder with you, backing down was absolutely not on the table for him. He cared about his work after all, cared deeply; he couldn’t just stop because it was inconvenient to you. Moving a few vials out of the way Albedo laid out the chopping block. The amount of pasta he’d bought looked comical against the knowledge that he was going to be eating alone tonight.

Dinner was a sad affair. Somehow Albedo had gotten used to cooking with you, your proximity, your easy conversation, the way the one who finished their food first always pushed their chair next to the slower party, usually to lean their head on the other ones shoulder which while not necessarily comfortable was certainly relaxing. It was lonely now, and the loneliness only grew as Albedo lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Tomorrow would be better. Still he lay there, thoughts scattered and hazy. Was he in the wrong? He couldn’t tell. But certainly he was in the wrong now, in the wrong for not being with you like usual, for not reacting when you left, for still being unable to react now.

It was that thought that eventually lulled him to sleep.

Albedo woke up to the most horrible smell. Squinting he sat up, trying to figure out what in the world was going on. The smell was vaguely akin to burning flesh, but it that flesh was also experiencing a bad case of freezer burn. Fighting the urge to gag Albedo stumbled around. Once he got to the living room he groaned. Some ammonia had managed to fall of the shelf and spill onto all the flowers he’d propped on the roof. Crinkling his nose he went to clean it up, but found it took about twenty minutes just to find where he’d put the tools for properly disposing equipment and bio-experiments.

By the time he was done the final shreds of his resolve had utterly dissipated. You were right. You were absolutely right and he absolutely needed to tell you. Barely stopping by the lab to throw the bags of ruined equipment in the trash he sprinted down the streets of Mondstadt. He hoped that he arrived at the Guild in time.

Albedo spied you just as your were getting your commissions handed to you. Calling out he stopped slightly as you turned to look at him with a weary gaze. Clearly you were still upset about the matter, and for a moment Albedo wondered whether or not he should just turn and leave. But he knew that wouldn’t help either. Nothing would help until he apologized, and that was exactly what he was going to you.

“Albedo I-”

“I’m so sorry,” Albedo blurted out, not wanting to give you a chance to misconstrue his actions, “I am truly so sorry my darling. You were absolutely right, and I shouldn’t have dismissed you like that. I am so deeply sorry.”

“Albedo,” you replied, voice sort of quiet in a way that worried him, “I’m very glad to accept your apology for that, I’m sorry for snapping at you, only…”

“Only?”

“Only did you mean what you said when you asked if I even cared? Do you think I am so selfish or so careless. I understand of course that words said in arguments are ones no one really thinks of, but I still want to know.” You glanced away, trailing off and Albedo felt his heart seize and a wave of guilt poured over him.

“Of course not!” Albedo stepped closer to you. “May I?” He opened his arms and you nodded briefly before closing the room between you two.

You buried your face in his shoulder, not wanting to look up. “I’m so sorry my darling,” Albedo whispered, running circles along your back. “I’m so sorry for making you question you and how I saw you like that. You’re right, I wasn’t thinking. I was the one too wrapped up in myself, in my work, and for that I am so deeply sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you mumbled, just happy to be as you’d been before. Arguments were always unpleasant, no matter what, but now it was all said and done and you could be yourselves again.

“Would you like to eat lunch together?” Albedo ventured, smiling when you looked up and gave a soft “yes”. The relief he felt was overwhelming and he vowed next time to be more careful.

One can get over arguments, but words are difficult to take back.

Childe

Although you disliked the Fatui in a vague, formal sort of way, that hatred had never truly been honed until you’d met Dottore.

At first you weren’t able to pinpoint what it was. Perhaps it was his erratic gaze, his odd smile, the way that he seemed to look at everything as if it was something to dissect – something which made you extremely uncomfortable. But then your dislike was given a proper motive when he and Childe went out one evening and your partner came back so plastered he didn’t seem to know who you were.

“Sorry about that dear.” Childe has laughed the day after, honestly how this man never seemed to have a proper hangover you didn’t know, not that he was drunk around you very often, something you appreciated greatly.

“Just don’t do it again.” You’d replied, frowning slightly. “That Dottore is a bad influence.”

“Awh, he’s not that bad,” Childe grinned, carelessly tossing about a book he had been reading, “not as bad as half the others anyways.”

“Still, be careful,” you commented, “you don’t want this to be a regular thing do you?”

“Aren’t I always careful?” Childe shook off your worry with his characteristic charm. “Besides Dottore’s going to be called back for a report to the Tsaritsa in about two weeks. Might as well make what you can out of his company while it lasts.”

“Perhaps.” You commented, secretly thinking that day couldn’t come close enough. Still it was only once, and you trusted Childe. He didn’t seem to like any of the Fatui anyways. Hopefully that would keep him from the fiasco of knocking down your door at 3:00.

But that didn’t stop him from doing it the next night, or the night after, or the night after. By night five you were absolutely done.

“Childe you have to stop this, you’re going to kill yourself the way you’re drinking.”

“You’re making too much of a fuss my dear,” Childe flitted his hand in the air as if batting away your concern, “if you think this is a lot you should see the sprees people go on in Snezhnaya. Honestly it’s only a little bit of fun, you know how hard it is to relax as a member of the Fatui in Liyue. Drinking buddies are hard to find, especially those who share my skill.”

“It’s more than a little bit of fun. Honestly Childe if I took this week by itself I’d think you were halfway to alcoholism! And I don’t appreciate you dragging me out of bed in the middle of the night, for fear you’d fall down the stairs if I left you and hurt yourself. It’s uncomfortable, seeing you so drunk.”

“Why?” Childe’s tone was still playful, but his eyes were narrowed slightly. Good. At least then he was listening to you.

“Have you ever interacted with a drunk person? Especially a drunk person on their fifth bender that week? It’s uncomfortable whether or not you know them and if you do it’s downright terrifying. Childe, I care about you and your health. And I’m begging you please stop these nights.”

“It’s fine.” Childe’s voice was growing harder by the moment. “I told you I can handle it, why do you have to pester so much?”

“Because I care about you!”

“Well maybe you should care a bit less.”

Childe stood up, making his way to the door. You knew that he was going to the Bank, knew that he was going to be out that night, but you said nothing. For now Childe’s sentence rang through your head. How could something so short be so painful. Shaking your head you moved to get your own equipment. Today was going to be a painful day.

You’d half expected the knock not to come, but sure enough it did. Turning to the clock you groaned inwardly. 3:45. Getting up you made your way to the door. Opening it you nearly slipped as your partner leaned on you. There was vodka on his breath and it made you feel as if you had no air. His words rattled through your head, refusing to leave since you’d first heard them. Maybe you should care a bit less. Fine, you would.

“Comrade?” Childe let out weakly. That was a new one. You made your way to the elevator and shoved him in there, making sure to angle it so he wouldn’t concuss himself.

“Get sober somewhere else.” And with that you slammed the button for the lobby floor, running out as the doors closed behind you. Childe made a strangled cry of protest but you didn’t care. You just wanted to sleep, and to forget. Maybe you should care less. Well why did it hurt to do so?

•

Childe squinted as a few rays of sun hit him square in the face. What was going on? Groaning he moved to reach for some blanket before realizing there was none. Shaking his head and ignoring the pounding headache that glanced right behind his eyelids he looked around. His mind was running as slow as it seemed possible to run but the minute it registered Childe felt himself flooded with embarrassment. A bench.

He was on a bench. Childe, Tartaglia, the Harbinger who had almost sunk Liyue. Said Harbinger was now sleeping on a bench, not because he’d fallen on hard times, not because of any reason that was understandable, but because he’d gotten too drunk to make it home.

No, not quite. Childe reached back into his memory, trying to piece together the night before. He had made it home, to your home, but you’d kicked him out. At first Childe felt a swell of irritation, but slowly but surely his memory caught up and he recalled the argument the morning before. He’d said something, hadn’t he. What was it?

Oh. Oh fuck.

Running back to your apartment he tried to straighten himself up, as if it wasn’t painfully obvious that he wasn’t nursing the worse sort of hangover. Damn he really relied on you. He relied on you and now he’d fucked up and now he needed to apologize.

Unfortunately his brain had only gotten that far so when you opened the door there was a bit of a pause, as he tried to think of what to say, words being drowned out by the pounding in his head.

“What do you want Childe?” You sighed, looking more depressed than anything. Childe felt a twinge of regret, but still the words wouldn’t come, not properly anyways, he must’ve still been a little drunk.

“I’m sorry.” Childe began, figuring that was the best way to go. “I’m sorry. Thank you and I’m sorry.”

“Thank you?” You tilted your head. “Are you sure you aren’t still drunk? I told you to sober up somewhere else.”

“Yes, I know, and I don’t know. But thank you for caring. And for looking after me. And I’m sorry.”

There was another pause, before you sighed.

“Come in.” You gestured, opening the door wider. Childe smiled weakly.

“Thank you.”

“Thank me later. I want to see you straightened up. And I want you to stop drinking like that.”

“I will.” Childe promised, making his way to the bedroom, wanting nothing more than to smash his face into a pillow. “Dottore was bad company anyways. Dear?”

“Yes?” You asked, still feeling a little shy. Perhaps you should’ve been more angry, but arguing always sat with you wrong. As did throwing Childe out.

“Thank you for caring.”

“You already said that.” You pointed out, finally cracking a smile, something that Childe mirrored, seeming somehow relieved.

“I know. But thank you.”

“Thank you for listening then.” You replied closing the blinds as Childe flopped onto the bed, sighing happily. “And thank you for forgiving me for kicking you out.”

“So callous.” Childe muttered, barely hearing your slight laugh as he drifted off to sleep.

Xiao

You hadn’t wanted to fight, not at all. Your relationship was still so young after all, so raw, but you couldn’t help it. And now, as you watched Xiao disappear into thin air, you felt the sour taste of fear mixed with anger and regret. You’d almost forgotten really, how quickly an adeptus can vanish.

The point of contention had been your commissions. While Xiao said nothing against them verbally, you could tell that your newfound partner was dissatisfied by your constant comings and goings, something made worse by your recent string of long trips. And it had all come to a head when you announced you’d be gone a month, traveling into Inazuma via a covert nautical route – thank you Beidou – before delivering a few papers to the Monstadt embassy, most being passports and travel papers for diplomats who let theirs expire. Xiao had listened to the scheme, glared becoming more and more pronounced as you went on. And when you were done he just shook his head and crossed his arms.

“You aren’t going.”

“What do you mean I’m not going?” You asked, confused.

“You aren’t going. For the love of the Seven, what kind of partner let’s their loved one smuggle themselves into a country with no chance of reprieve if something goes wrong and with no contact for a month? You aren’t going.”

“I’m going whether you like it or not,” you replied, irritation quickly running through your voice, “it’s fine Xiao, many people have done this before. And we need to get those Liyue diplomats home. Honestly, I’m not sure why you aren’t proud of me, proud of what I’m doing.”

“Because you’re putting yourself in needless danger and breaking the law for a few people who I’m sure could do just fine themselves.”

“You can’t just keep me from being an Adventurer Xiao. You can’t keep me from doing my job.”

“I told you it’s because I care about you.”

“No, it’s because you’re putting yourself above the needs of both myself and your own land. Xiao, don’t you care about Liyue?”

“I care about the land,” his voice was like stone, and when you glanced into his eyes for a moment they seemed truly without empathy or care, the gaze of an adeptus who understood nothing of the human world, “humanity can rot.”

“I’m a human,” you pointed out, voice soft. “Don’t you care about me.”

For a moment recognition flitted through Xiao’s expression and he seemed almost regretful. Then his gaze hardened over once more.

“You aren’t going.” And with that he disappeared.

•

It took Xiao approximately ten minutes to regret the entire situation. Being angry for long periods of time wasn’t necessarily an alien emotion to Xiao – sometimes he felt as if he carried anger everywhere he went – but anger at you certainly was, and no sooner had it arrived then it was fading away, replaced instead with a deep sense of shame and guilt.

Why was he so upset? Was it really out of care for you? Yes, he decided, there was that aspect to it. But there was something more, something less noble. He was afraid, he was afraid for you. He was afraid you’d be arrested, or your ship would succumb to the open ocean, or you’d be betrayed, or…

Thoughts fluttered in and out of Xiao’s mind, each one more outlandish than the rest. Behind them said the same thing. He was afraid. You were right, he was afraid.

Did he care about humans? No, Xiao could say that with certainty. Not the way humans cared about each other, the way the humans cared about the adepti, when they thought about them. Xiao hadn’t cared for humans for a very long time. Even the karma that he kept from wreaking the land was exorcised, not because of humans, but because it was his duty. He didn’t care about humans, not really.

But he did care about you. He cared about you and he didn’t want to keep you from what you loved in return. Not like he didn’t know you would go do your mission anyways. You would do your mission and if Xiao wasn’t careful the weeks of cultivating an acquaintanceship, and friendship, and then more would be ruined. And he’d just be left, watching and waiting, wondering if you’d be alright.

Xiao was thankful that you hadn’t left the balcony of the Inn. Appearing before you he reached out to hug you before hesitating.

“You can go.” He murmured, knowing that wasn’t ever a question.

“I’m going.”

“And I’m sorry.”

“I wish you hadn’t disappeared like that.” You frowned, but Xiao shook his head. Was that the worst he’d done?

“No, I’m sorry for saying you couldn’t go. I’m sorry for not caring. I’m sorry.”

You furrowed your brow in a familiar expression and Xiao nodded slightly. Hurrying to embrace him you shook your head, still not over what had just transpired so quickly.

“Your eyes were so cold.” You murmured.

“I’m sorry.” Xiao murmured again, hugging you tightly.

“Don’t be.” You replied. “Just, stay like this a little longer.” Xiao was all to happy to comply.

It was easy to forget Xiao was an adeptus sometimes, that he still had that side of him, those cold eyes, that brusque demeanor. But even if that sometimes threw you off, even if you argued and worried and regretted, it would all be fine in the end.

Because you’d always return to a familiar embrace, and a shared love.

#so long I am SORRY #requested #albedo #childe #xiao #albedo x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #my writing #scenarios

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brucie-bruce-waynee · 2 years

Text

The Actor and the Billionaire Part 4

(A/N: Finals week has finished! Yesterday my entire life was packed into eight boxes and either shipped back to my parents house or into storage.)

Word count: 2.6k~

“I’m sorry, you want me to do what?”

The marketing team branch heads stood at the front of the conference room you found yourself in. It reminded you of when you had to sign your contract and NDA to start this little farce in the first place.

“We need to you to start staying over. Bruce has a couple rooms, and we’ve already cleared it with him. So, you just need to make a convincing appearance outside the building with a little suitcase or something.”

Jamie, sitting beside you, began asking questions at a rapid-fire pace. You felt a twinge behind your eyes and messaged your temples.

“Jamie, it’s fine. I can do it. This is what we agreed to.”

Jamie made a discontented noise in the back of their throat.

“This has been going on for three months now. Don’t you think this is enough?”

“The contract Mx. Grant signed gave us at least six months.”

Well, you must have missed that. An oversight entirely on the fault of yourself.

“No need to make a fuss, then. We’ll be sleeping in separate rooms. This will make us official in the eyes of the public,” you soothed.

Jamie looked at you, surprised. In your career, you’d never taken risks like this. Avoiding scandal was essential to you. Now you were putting up a falsehood to the entire world that would ruin your reputation if anyone found out.

You packed a bag and went through the routine. The press was suffocating for the five seconds you had to be outside. Alfred helped you carry in Cinnamon’s dog stuff.

Settling into the same room you’d prepared for the gala for all that time ago, you sighed. Cinnamon was sniffing every corner for dangers. Bruce hadn’t come out to see you once. He didn’t reply to any texts you sent him. Nothing was getting through to him. You didn’t want to force the issue as you weren’t his partner. Friday night and the entirety of Saturday were spent exploring the penthouse.

The architecture was bonkers. Pointed arches and ribbed vaults were everywhere. It made more sense now that you knew about his extracurriculars. You almost expected to see full-on flying buttresses, but this was still an apartment, and real ones would be a bitch to construct and find a place to put them.

Walking into the dining room, Cinnamon at your heels, you stroked the electric guitar strings on the stand by the staircase. Alfred was setting out food for himself and you. There wasn’t a third place setting, and your heart sank. Sitting down at your spot felt weird. Cinnamon curled onto your feet. Alfred gave you a smile and gestured for you to begin eating, telling you that Bruce wouldn’t show up to eat with you.

“Alfred, do you know about Bruce’s night activities?” You took a bite of the pasta. Alfred was a good butler, an incredible cook, and terrific company.

“Yes, I do. If I’m being fair, Mx. Grant, I expected you to decipher the clues,” Alfred replied with a slight grimace. “Master Bruce isn’t the best at hiding as much as he thinks he is.”

“Well, it was only after I literally kissed the mouth I’d been dreaming of for weeks,” you groaned, shoveling pasta into your mouth.

You felt embarrassment flash through you. Alfred’s jaw clenches, and you’re unsure where this anger came from. He’d never seemed overly bothered by anything. Maybe it came with the job, but he was terrible at hiding it now.

“He didn’t tell me that. All he told me was that he saved you from some thugs when you were running at four am,” Alfred said.

“Yeah, not my smartest move, I know.”

Alfred waved you off.

“After we finish, you’ll bring him his dinner. You deserve to know how he feels in return,” Alfred said, no room for argument in his voice.

With the way Alfred phrased it, you had hope. It’s just a tiny flicker, but it’s there, nonetheless. Armed with a plate of good food, you followed Alfred down through the building. As he guided you, he talked about how there was a tunnel beneath the building that led to the old Wayne Manor. This was a way to travel to and from work without going on public transport.

“I suppose this is one of the differences between old money and new money, right?”

Alfred nodded and gestured to a heavy-looking door down a set of stairs. The lights flickered, almost strobe-like. You make your way down slowly.

“Don’t knock, he won’t hear you. Just head on in. He’ll be at his desk.”

Steeling yourself, you head in.

The cave is dark, damp, and echoing. A literal flock of bats swirls in the air above you. Swallowing a distressed noise, you made your way through high-tech equipment and the coolest looking car you’ve ever seen. As you adjust to the dark, you see the desk Alfred mentioned.

At first, you don’t see Bruce. He just melts into the shadows so easily with his all-black wardrobe. Bruce shifts, and you cry out. He jumps and whips around to you. You’re not too close, but you’re close enough to see his eyes are bloodshot, lids covered in smeared black paint.

“Alfred sent me down with dinner. Can I sit with you?”

Bruce looked at you, and you could see his eyes weren’t all there. They were glassy. He must’ve been so immersed in his… whatever he was doing. You can’t even imagine how what he was doing on the streets was affecting him. He turned slowly and pulled a stool from under his desk with the toe of his boot.

You placed the plate on an empty spot on his desk and sat. He took the fork from you and played with his pasta.

“Most people start by twirling it around the fork,” you said quietly. Bruce hummed and started eating. It had no mushrooms, no ground meat. There were only noodles and sauce on the plate with a small sprinkling of parmesan cheese on top. He was like a kid. Somehow, this only endeared him to you more.

“I didn’t intend to, uh, tell you all those things. I’m sorry if it makes this arrangement awkward. I especially didn’t mean to figure out your identity. You should know, there’s no risk of me telling anyone. But I just want to apologize for invading your privacy and telling you information you may not have wanted to hear,” you said, fiddling with your right ring finger ring.

Bruce slurped his noodles, muttering a small apology. As you passed him a napkin, he held your wrist with his fingers. There was dirt and blood on his hands. What had he been doing all night? Right. Batman activities.

“I trust you won’t tell. You’re not that kind of person. Besides, there wouldn’t be anything to gain from it. Batman’s reputation is stained, ruined,” Bruce says quietly, looking at his half-eaten food.

“It’s getting better. You know that. The people believe in you. Both as Bruce and Batman. The work you’re doing for the city, helping to build it up,” you murmured.

Bruce looks at you, and you can perfectly imagine a little rain cloud above his head. He opens his mouth like he wants to speak, then returns to his food. Your hand makes its way to his, and you rest it there, comforting him. Bruce finishes his meal in silence. He hooks the rung of the stool you’re on with his foot and drags you closer. The motion makes you grip him tightly.

“I’m sorry I kissed you with the cowl on. It was… I took advantage of you. You had been attacked. It was the fear of losing you,” Bruce says, voice quivering.

“If I felt unsafe, I would have pulled away,” you said. “It wasn’t my smartest idea to accept a kiss from a man I didn’t know. Just like how it wasn’t smart to go out like that. If it’s any consolation, I was thinking about how pretty your eyes are.”

Bruce had seemed incapable of being any other color than deathly pale, but now he was bright red. The color traveled through his cheeks and down his neck to the hem of his sweatshirt.

“Sorry. I’ll stop flirting.”

Trying to retract your arm, you find that you can’t. Bruce covered your hand with his, looking at you pensively.

“Don’t.”

Now it’s your turn to be flustered. Bruce turns and cups your jaw in his hands. Bringing you closer to him, you can smell rain in his hair. He kisses you the same soft, tender way he had when he was Gotham’s protector. Then he moved away, and you wanted more.

“So,” you said, kicking your legs out. Bruce had returned to his pasta after you’d kissed a few more times. “Am I still under an NDA, or are we going official?”

Bruce sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, and you wanted to kiss it. You wanted to kiss him again and again.

“We’ll call the marketing team on Monday. For now, we can keep this to ourselves,” Bruce said.

“Deal. Oh, and Maggie wants a picture tonight.”

Bruce gave you his well-practiced, tortured look. You returned it with a grin. Somehow you were able to coax Bruce upstairs to watch a movie. His living room matched the rest of the decor he had going on, but the gigantic flat screen across from the couch threw it off. You kept your distance from Bruce at first, but he pulled the pocket of your sweatpants towards himself. Crossing the sofa, you curled up against Bruce, pressing your knees on top of his.

Alfred walked into the room, smiling as he dropped off popcorn. Cinnamon followed at his heels. Your dog popped onto the couch and wedged himself in the tiny space between you and Bruce. Bruce gave Cinnamon a soft look and several pets.

“Alfred, can you take a picture of us for Instagram? Maggie wants one,” you said, holding out your phone. To Bruce, you said, “You can post this one. I have another one in mind for later tonight.”

Your hand made its way across Bruce’s body in a side hug, and his chin pressed itself comfortably onto the top of your head. You both were looking at the camera. Cinnamon even popped his head out.

Alfred left the two of you alone, and the movie began. You didn’t move any closer; you were close enough. Bruce’s hand curled around yours as the film progressed, and when it ended, your head was on his chest.

“We should head to bed,” Bruce murmured.

“Yeah, but I have to take my picture first.”

You would get a crick in your neck with how hard you were straining to get the right angle by laying down. Holding hands with your boyfriend (yay!!!) while trying to get a picture for Instagram with a flattering angle was tricky; it should be considered evil.

“Is all of this really necessary?”

The picture was ready to be doctored now. You leaned away, releasing your hand from Bruce’s grip and sitting cross-legged on ‘your side’ of the bed. It was alright, but you thought it could be beneficial to brighten the image and amp up the contrast just a touch.

You reclined on the soft headboard as you edited the picture and brainstormed a caption. Your shorts rode up the slightest bit as you got comfortable, sitting with your legs crisscrossed. Bruce shifted beside you. The clacking of your keyboard was overshadowed by the click of another camera. Your eyes shot to Bruce, who had his phone almost sheepishly under his chin, camera pointed to you. A small smile made him turn away from you.

“Wait, did you post that picture of me?”

“No. I just took it for me. Is that okay?”

Afterward, you would feel silly for your voice’s harsh tone when you asked the question. You would feel mildly ashamed, remembering how the man beside you in bed shied away from you as if he’d done something wrong.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you said with a smile, feeling your insides melt. You were unused to the sensation of your organs turning to mush, but you couldn’t stop even if you tried.

You muttered more as you typed out the caption. It had been a long time since you showed your screen to Bruce for approval, but tonight you decided to do so. The caption was simple, an acronym. ‘loml’ with a simple red heart emoji.

“What does that mean?”

“Love of my life,” you murmured. When you looked at Bruce, you saw his cheeks stained pink and his eyes trained to the ceiling.

Cute.

“Well, I suppose I should go back to my own room,” you say with a sigh.

You jump out of your skin when Bruce’s cold fingers wrap gently around your wrist. He’s like a ghost, or he’s trying his best to be.

“You can stay for a little bit. We can talk if you want. Or I could put something on the TV.”

It seemed he wanted you to stay. You would try not to look so pleased.

“Okay.”

Bruce tugged you close, and you curled up to his side. It wasn’t long until Bruce’s breathing slowed down to a steady rhythm. You wanted to savor this moment, but his peaceful rest lulled you to sleep.

You woke alone at nine am to Alfred bringing in breakfast. Cinnamon had curled himself into your arms like he did at home. The shower in the en suite bathroom was running.

“Good morning,” you said, holding Cinnamon down from begging for food.

“Good morning. I hope you slept well. Master Bruce went out around one in the morning and came back by seven.”

Speak of the devil, Bruce exited the bathroom, towel around his waist. He was damp but smelled good as he leaned in to kiss you. You took the hem of your sleep shirt and swiped it under his eye where he missed with soap.

“Good morning,” he said quietly.

You hummed as Alfred called for Cinnamon, and the two of them left. Bruce clambered onto the bed with the tray, mimicking your cross-legged pose. Eating breakfast in bed with Bruce was great. You fed him some blueberries from the bowl on the tray, and he fed you mouthfuls of pancakes. It was all horribly, terribly domestic.

“How did we get here, huh? You’re so mushy,” you asked, stroking his cheek with your pointer finger.

“I have something for you,” Bruce said, digging around in his bedside table. You tried getting a peek over his shoulder, but he was hunched so fully over whatever he would give to you.

“I bought it after our brunch date. Back then, there was just something about you I couldn’t get out of my mind.”

With each word, his voice had lowered until it was a whisper. He handed you a flat square box. It had clean edges and no defining brand or markings. The tissue paper inside was brittle, and underneath it was a gorgeous bracelet. It was a tennis bracelet that glittered with small, squared diamonds.

“Oh, Bruce,” you murmured. His hands came into view. You gave him a nod, and he wrapped the metal around your wrist. It sparkled in the lamplight.

“I wanted to give you something for all the care you’ve shown me.”

You gave Bruce a soft kiss and a smile. Bruce only hummed, dropping his head onto your shoulder. It was going to be a good day.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x you #batman x reader #batman x you #battinson x reader #battinson fanfiction #the batman fanfic #the batman

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harrysgoldenline · 3 years

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When In Italy Part 4

here is part 4! Um this chapter has bad words and some adult themes so warning for that! The next part will be the last, so let me know what you think! Are they end game or no? Also! If you want a personalized imagine, check out my pinned post! If you want to support me ---> please click here! every little bit helps bc im a broke ass college student so thank u to anyone who wants to support me :)

All comments and feedback are welcome and encouraged!! :)

WORD COUNT: 2.2K

You stood frozen as he stepped out of the elevator, his eyes soft as he met yours, waking towards you.

“Get away from me.” you whisper, attempting to push past him and get into the elevator, pressing the door closed button before even pressing a floor, not wanting him to get any closer.

“Y/N, wait!” he rushed, sticking his hand between the doors and stopping it, his tall frame standing before you that you quickly push past, going back to lock yourself in your apartment, and lock him out, “Please, let me explai-“

“No!” you stopped, voice firm as you turned to face him, “you can’t keep doing this! you can’t keep showing up like this! So just leave me alone.”

You kept walking, ignoring his pleas as he came after you, successfully unlocking your apartment door rapidly, but you catch a glimpse of rings as he hand stops the door.

“Please.” He whispered, not pushing the door open and you saw a flicker of his eyes and you could almost see the sincerity in them, “I know I don’t deserve it, I really don’t, but I would just love to talk to you for real this time, anything you want to know.”

“and you’re not gonna be an asshole this time?” you asked, leaning against the doorframe, peaking at him, “because if you are, I swear to god Styles I will give you 5 seconds to get the fuck out.”

“Promise.” He nodded and your heart believed him, so you opened the door.

You watched as he shoved his hands deep in his pockets, slowly entering your apartment and you didn’t miss how his eyes scanned you quickly, before bouncing around the apartment, looking around the space he used to be so familiar with.

You watched how he headed to the couch about to sit but stutter stepped a bit, scratching the back of his neck and looking at you, almost asking you if it’s okay if he sits down.

You gave him a soft smile and nod, tucking a loose hair behind your ear and sitting on one side of the couch, thankful he sat on the other, giving you each plenty of space as your eyes met. The tension was slowly rising, looking at each other as you sat, wondering who was going to break the silence.

“I never meant for anything to happen.” he whispered, his head falling as a shameful look covered his face, avoiding your eyes, “After the breakup… I- I was just lost. I was messing up at work and I just was doing shit. Then, it was like only like a month ago, I was getting drunk all the time and she just came into my trailer and we were talking and then she kissed me.”

You just nodded, biting your bottom lip and picking at your nails, peaking up and looking at him, your glossy eyes meeting his bloodshot ones, not really having anything to say in response.

“And I just…” he started, “I wanted to feel better, feel anything. So, we just started hanging out more and I just really wanted to feel something, feel a connection. So we took a trip to Italy because… It’s always been a place that made me feel better and then…”

“Yeah.” you chuckled, “and then… Why did you bring her to our house? I know we haven’t talked about that kind of stuff, but it’s mine too Harry and… just seeing you two there? I never felt more replaceable than I did when I saw you two.”

“Oh love, no.” He whispered, scooting closer to you, a hand coming up to cup your face to help your eyes meet, but he retracted it back before he made contact with your skin, “I’m so, so sorry. I’m so sorry and I will never be able to prove to you, but that was never my intention to ever hurt you. The breakup was a mistake.”

“I… How am I supposed to believe that?” you squeaked, voice cracking as the barrier breaks, tears falling on your cheeks as you looked up at him, “We we’re together for years and you just- I mean fuck Harry! I haven’t even thought about even starting to flirt with someone and you’re…”

“We’ve never had sex,” He quietly added cheeks turning a bit red, “or done anything like that. At all, I just… couldn’t.”

Your eyes widen a bit at the confession, watching as he looked at his hands, a slight twinge of embarrassment on his features.

“Oh.” you whispered, “I know I shouldn’t be mad, we… we aren’t together and you have have the right to do whatever you want but it’s just… hard. Especially when I wasn’t expecting it. I went to Italy to try and get away, everything in the city makes me think of you, I don’t know why I thought staying at the house would be any better but, I just wanted to get away.”

“Sorry I ruined your trip.”

“Sorry I ruined your hookups.”

He let out a laugh, the smile staying a bit longer when he noticed you had subconsciously scooted a bit closer to him.

“It’s not like I ever really wanted to… Even little Harry only wants you.” he flirted and an instant, loud laugh leaves your lips, leaning forward and your brace yourself on his shoulder, a simple thing you had done over the years countless times, but still made his heart skip a beat.

“Oh my god,” you said between breathless laughs, your bodies now less then a foot apart as you smiled up at him, “please do not call it little Harry!”

“What do you prefer?” He smirked, “rather I call it bi-“

“What the fuck?” a voice spoke suddenly, both of your red eyes going to your front door and seeing your best friend standing their, her eyes wide in a mix of confusion and anger. Your hand retracted from his body quickly, your best friend looking at you with soft eyes, her eyes darting over to Harry’s and you see the fiery anger behind them, “Y/N, please tell me he was getting whatever shit he left behind and is leaving.”

“We were just talking.” You started, glancing over at Harry, seeing a bit of fear behind his eyes and your lips quirked up in a smile that quickly faded seeing the anger in y/bff/n eyes.

“What do you want to talk to him about? How he broke your heart again?” She asked, confusion and concern laced in her voice, “I’m sorry, y/n, I just… I can’t watch you go through all of it all over again and again.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but he quickly stood up beside you giving you a quick nod as he glanced over at y/bff/n the back at you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have just showed up. It was so good to see you, y/n, I’ll get out of your way.”

“Harry, wait!” you stood up, hating the softening in your voice, “I want to talk more… are you staying or do you have to go back to L.A?”

“I’ll be here as long as you need me. And if you want me gone, I’ll book my flight. Okay? It’s up to you, whatever you want.”

“Okay… Can I call you later?”

“You can call me anytime, I’ll pick up.”

***

Y/bff/n definitely wasn’t thrilled with you.

“I just feel like this is a bad idea, y/n!” She had exclaimed once Harry had left your apartment, “He’s gonna hurt you again! What could he possibly want?”

“I dont know, I just… I dont know.” You sighed, sitting across from her on your couch just like you did with him, “I love him and I don’t know what’s going to happen but I don’t want to end up hating him.”

She nodded, looking at you as your eyes glazed over again, “Hey, okay, I’m sorry. I just don’t want you upset. Do you still wanna go try this new place or just hang out here? Let’s get your mind off of everything, you need a break, yeah? Especially if you’re going to talk to him later.”

“Do you think I should?"

“If that’s what you think, I think you should. You know him.” She nods, “but I swear to god if he makes you cry again he’ll have to deal with me.”

So now, here you were, waiting on him to come back to finish your talk from earlier. It was helpful hanging out with y/bff/n, listening to her advice as she gave you a bit of the reality check that you needed, making sure he won’t sweep you off your feet with his familiar charm.

Your heart rate never fully calmed down as you waited for him to come back to your apartment after y/bff/n dropped you back off after your afternoon together and you were glad for the few hours of a distraction, but now your mind was fully occupied with him once again as you sat on your couch.

The knock on your door caused you to jump, hoping up and checking your appearance in your hall mirror before swinging open the door, seeing Harry standing their with a bouquet of flowers, a small smile on his face.

“Got these for you,” he began, “shoulda showed up with them when I kinda crashed into you earlier… but I was so nervous I didn’t think about it, honestly.”

“Thank you.” You softly replied, eyeing up at him and taking them from his grip, letting out a shaky breath as you welcome him in and turn on your heel, going to your kitchen to place them into a vase quickly before going back to him, seeing him in the same spot you two were sitting in earlier.

“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again… and thank you for letting me come back and talk to you at all, really don’t deserve your time, but I’m thankful for it.” He began, eyes glued onto yours as he scooted closer to you when you sat down, his fingers tentatively trailing on your arm before laying his hand on your own, “I… I want you back, y/n. I want to be with you, I never stopped wanting just you.”

“Harry, I… I don’t know what to say.” You started, “I just… there’s so much still up in the air and it’s all happening so fast. Are you still with Olivia?”

“No, of course not.” He instantly answered, “we were never anything real, I left Italy when I went to the house and you were gone. I came back here and I just… I would sit outside your building in my car and just try and get the nerve to walk in to talk to you, but I was so scared of you telling me to leave again.” Harry started deep into your eyes as he continued, his own welling up with tears, “I love you so much and I was such an idiot and fuck baby… I’ll do anything to prove it you.”

Now, you two were just inches apart, his hand cupping your cheek as you leaned into it, eyes glued onto his eyes as both of your gazes were glassy, sets of eyes wandering down to one another’s lips. Your eyes fluttered up and looked at him, his nose nudging into yours, seeming to test the boundary and you simply nodded, causing him to connect your lips in an instant.

Your lips met softly, gaining speed as the passion overflowed you both as the familiar move came back easier than either of you could have imagined. You both moaned into one another’s mouths, his tongue quickly sliding past your lips as your crawled onto his lap, fingers gripping the soft material of his shirt.

Things escalated quickly as he carried you into your bedroom, body hovering over yours as his body pressed against yours, the articles of clothing disappearing piece by piece, lips never separating a second longer than they had to you as you refamilarized yourselves with one another.

His fingers dug their way into your waist as he kissed you harder, singular pieces of thin material being the only things separating you and as Harrys fingers slipped down, pulling back and looking up at you for permission, your breath caught in your throat, reality hitting you like a wave.

“I can’t do this.” You whispered, fingers removing themselves from his hair as you covered your face, voice wavering as tears welled up in your eyes once again, “I-it’s all too much, too fast- I-I, I don’t think I can do this, Harry- I can’t.”

“Fuck, it’s okay.” He whispered, crawling off from on top of you, scrambling to pick his t shirt off the floor and handing to you, quickly covering your body with it, “Fuck, I’m sorry, did I hurt you?”

You nodded quickly, knees tucking into your chest as you let out soft cries, flinching as his arm came around you, going to comfort you with the soft stroke of his arm and retracted it quickly after seeing your reaction.

“I-I… I just keep seeing you and her in my head.” You whispered, “…I don’t know if I can do this.”

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