#staring down at the ground‚ her fingers still curled around the collar of his coat. But‚ unexpectedly‚ a hand wraps around her own‚ gently. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

drcalmreid · 3 years

Text

the dugout - s.r.

pairing: spencer reid x female reader

summary: smut - post-baseball practice spencer fulfills a fantasy of y/n’s

content warning: NSFW 18+!! pure smut lol

word count: 3.2k

authors notes: so mmmm….chile anyway enjoy ;)

gif credit: @thegifs-queen

YOUR POV

“Alright kid, you gotta get out of your head,” Morgan says, wiping a hand on the back of his sweatpants. He squats down in front of the pitcher’s mound and grabs the baseball Spencer just tossed back to him,

“Just swing hard and follow through. There’s no mathematical equations, just swing.”

“Okay fine,” Spencer huffs looking down at his converse. “But according to recent studies, most major league teams employ mathematicians in order to pinpoint crucial angles, velocities, distances, and overall mathematical equations that are needed to create the ideal outcome of a baseball game,” Spencer says squinting at Morgan even though his hat shields his eyes from the sun. He stands at home plate with the wooden bat between his legs and his hands resting on the barrel. Derek rolls his eyes at Spencer and gives him an of-course-you-know-that head shake and walks back to the top of the pitcher’s mound. He tosses the ball into the pitching machine and Spencer swings and misses, again.

“We really have to watch this?” Emily leans over to whisper in my ear, “It’s just too painful to watch.”

“I know,” I shrug, pursing my lips together before giving her an empathetic smile. “If you don’t want to stay you don’t have to, I’m sure they’ll be done soon...I can meet you at Garcia’s.”

“Really?” She says in the most excited tone she has had the entire time we’ve been here. “Thank you,” she sighs and reaches for her coat on the bleachers before climbing down them. “You look great out there boys, but Garcia is hounding me to help her set-up! I’ll meet you over there!” Emily smiles one last time and waves to Morgan and Reid before practically running to her car before any of us can stop her.

“See,” Spencer says, taking off his baseball cap and running his hand through his hair. “We’re losing our audience. That’s how bad I am.”

“You need some motivation, Kid.” Morgan says pounding the baseball into his mitt, “It could be those mathematical baseball facts you know, the idea of beating the local PD in this game...” his eyes shift to me in the stands and I perk my head up, “or (y/n)...whatever it is, use it.” His phone rings from his pocket and he reaches inside before picking up, “What’s up, baby girl? We’re almost done here, then--woah woah, slow down. I’ll be right there.”

Morgan hangs up his cell phone and shrugs at Spencer, “it’s your lucky day. Garcia is requesting I come help set up the party tonight for Hotch...which I thought Prentiss was supposed to be doing,” he turns to glare at me.

“I know nothing!” I yell from the stands. I rise from the bleachers and walk closer to the fence.

“Either way, I’m needed ‘urgently, like now’ by Garcia,” Morgan chuckles using air quotes around what I can assume is a panicked Garcia needing her Chocolate Thunder. “So, we can pick this up tomorrow?” Reid presses his lips together in a tight lipped, straight smile before nodding. Just like that, Morgan grabs his bats and glove and disappears into the parking lot, “I’ll see you two over there!”

I climb down from the stands and walk closer towards the dugout. Spencer grabs the spare bat Morgan gave him off the ground and uses it to tap the sand off of his converse. Just as I reach the doorway of the dugout, Spencer enters the other side near the field.

“Hey,” I grin at Spencer as I lean against the cool cement walls.

“Hi,” he smiles back and his eyes quite practically light up when he sees me. To be honest, I’m not sure if he’s more excited to see me or to just be done with Morgan’s baseball practice.

The clay colored dirt collects on the dugout floor, dust raising from it as Spencer steps forward. He sits on the metallic bench against the wall, the bench stretches the length of the dugout and reflects the sunlight from the setting sun. Something about the way Spencer looks sitting down in the dugout, with his hair pushed back in his cap, white button-up loosened around his collar since his tie has been tossed aside since the beginning of practice. His biceps flex slightly as he reaches for his briefcase next to him on the bench (grabbing the hand sanitizer inside the case that he insisted on bringing), his collared shirt rolled up to his elbows exposing his tanned skin....He looks so fucking good.

“So, on a scale of 1-to-listening to me explaining the newest metabolic engineering studies, how bored were you watching me practice today?” Spencer jokes, leaning forward to brush the dirt off his pants.

“Mmm, I would have to say,” I humm and step forward away from the entrance, sitting down on the bench directly next to Spencer. “Waiting for you to come out of the coffee shop, but I forgot my book at home.”

“That bad, huh?” He laughs and I lean down pressing my head to his shoulder. I shake my head and place a kiss on the top of his shoulder. “Not that bad, anything with you is never bad,” I smile, looking up at him. Spencer turns to look at me, tilting his head to the side to make sure his visor is out of the way. He leans down to kiss me and I sit back, raising a hand to stop him.

“Oh (y/n), I’m sorry,” Spencer mumbles. He shifts uncomfortably on the bench, “I thought-”

“Spence,” I reach forward and flip his hat around, resting the visor on the back of his head. I keep my hands at the back of his head, fingers running through his loose, slightly sweaty curls. “Didn’t want you to knock me in the head with that...plus, I like seeing your pretty eyes.”

“Oh,” Spencer sighs softly and a blush creeps onto his cheeks. His eyes turned away from mine, and I know he’s consciously trying to reduce his red cheeks. No matter how long we’ve been together, Spencer still finds moments to be completely embarrassed or shy around me. He leans down, turning his head back to mine and capturing my lips with his. My hands still rest in his hair and I comb my fingers up through his curls gently. Spencer moans slightly and I lift my leg to straddle the backless-bench without his lips leaving mine.

“Spencer,” I smile while breaking the kiss for a moment, but Spencer moves his lips to my jawline. “Did I ever tell you about my one, umm,” I stumble over my words, now I’m the one who’s nervous… “fantasy?”

“Fantasy?” Spencer grins against my skin and I turn my face away, but he raises a finger pulling my face back to his, “tell me.”

“So, I’ve always had this fantasy of, um, y’know…” I raise my eyebrows, eyes glancing around the dimly lit room. “In a dugout…” My cheeks burn with an even more intense blush than before.

“You want to have sex... in a dugout?” Spencer asks, his fingers still rest on my jaw, his eyes staring into mine intently.

“It’s stupid, never mind.” I say, completely embarrassed and attempt to stand from the bench. Spencer’s strong hand grips my waist and pulls me back down towards him, “Spence, really it’s fine, I- lets just go, we have to get to Garcia-”

His lips crash into mine and I know my resistance is useless.

“Spencer, seriously,” I say completely breathless. His lips work down my jawline as I giggle, “it was a stupid fantasy. Plus it’s dirty in here and I’m—you don’t want to—”

“Shh,” Spencer coos, pulling his face away from my neck. “I’m ready to fulfill your fantasy, as long as you want me to.” He looks up at me, his eyes scan over my face to make sure I’m still comfortable. I practically become putty in his hands. He brushes my fallen hair out of my face and over my shoulder. His smooth fingertips running up and down my arms.

“Fuck,” I mumble, “yeah, I really want you to.”

“Thank God, because…” Spencer trails off and looks down between us. His dress pants have become tight at his waist as he squirms under the tension.

“Oh my sweet boy,” I whisper and kiss his jawline. “Is that from me?” I ask while hovering my lips over his skin and he nods slowly while swallowing hard. Carefully I slide forward onto Spencer’s lap, earning a moan from him in a process, “fuck”. My hands trail up his torso to meet the back of his neck, pulling gently at his curls as my lips continue to leave sloppy kisses on his neck and jaw.

“Baby,” Spencer moans. “C’mere.” His hands wrap around my hips, grinding them down against his own as Spencer groans at the sensation. I move my face away from him to look directly in his eyes. Spencer's head rests against the wall of the dugout, his eyes hooded, but lustful. I bring my lips back down to his neck, hips gently moving against his. My thighs rest on both sides of his, my skirt riding up against my skin. His hands trail up the edge of my skirt, grabbing my thighs gently.

“(y/n)? Wait,” Spencer says breathless.

“Yes, Spence?” I ask, pulling away from him, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. I look at him and blink slowly, “you okay? We don’t have to-”

“No, no,” Spencer rushes out. “I just wanted to look at you.”

My heart flutters immediately as I smile at him. I bring my hands up from his chest, tangling them in his hair at the bottom of his baseball cap.

—

SPENCERS POV

(Y/n)’s eyes stare into mine as we sit tangled on the cool metal bench. Her knees are bent at my sides, our thighs rubbing together every time either one of us moves. I trail my hands up from her skirt and run them through the ends of her hair, slowly making my way up to her scalp. She leans into my touch almost instinctively as her eyes slowly close. I bring her even closer to me to catch her lips with mine.

“Spencer,” she moans against my mouth, her hips rocking back and forth. Fuck. If I could listen to her moan my name all day I would. “I need you.” She pants.

“Where do you need me?” I ask, pulling away with a grin.

“C’mon,” she giggles. “You’re the one with three PhDs...you should know.”

“It’s not that kind of—” before I even get the words out her lips crash into mine. Lustful and hungry for more. My back stretches against the walls still, (y/n) grinding down against our colliding bodies on the bench. My hands move down from her hair, tugging slightly before I completely let go. I trace her sides with my fingers before slipping under her skirt. My thumb presses between her thighs, running along the thin fabric of her underwear. She moans against my mouth, pulling away and throwing her head back, “Spencer, I need you.”

“So impatient today,” I say, raising my eyebrows at her. She rolls her eyes in response, but I hook my fingers underneath her thong and move my fingers along her exposed skin. “What do you need me to do, baby?”

“Spencer,” she moans. “You already know-”

I shake my head at her, moving my hands back from her core, “not the answer I’m looking for.”

“Spence,” she whimpers, looking up at me with the most needy eyes possible. I move my hands onto the sides of the bench, too stubborn to give into her...even though I want to so badly. I tilt my head to the side, waiting on her every word—more specifically waiting for the words…

She brings her lips down to my ear, “I need you to fuck me, Dr. Reid.”

“Your wish is my command.” I smile at her and immediately run my hands back under her skirt. She shifts gently, her hands coming down to my belt. We both fiddle with each other’s bottoms for a moment, lips connected, moving together. (Y/n) unbuckles my belt while I simultaneously loop my fingers under her panties pulling them down her thighs. I swiftly move my hands from between her thighs to under them lifting her up off my lap and onto the bench. She whines sadly as our kiss breaks apart, “hold on, baby.” I tell her while pushing a stray hair away from her cheeks. She puffs her lip out but stays put, I quickly pull my pants down to gather around my ankles, I reach for my boxer waistband but she stops me. Her eyes scan over me before she stands from the bench, thong falling slowly down her legs to her feet. She steps out of it and I catch the underwear before it even reaches the ground.

“Saving those for later?” She asks, cocking her head to the side. I nod eagerly before she straddles my bare legs. Her cool fingertips run along my waist band before pulling them down slowly. I buck my hips up just enough for her to move them down even further. Her hands wrap around my cock slowly, pumping it a few times as I close my eyes mumbling her name over and over. She rises on her knees as she lines herself up with me, both of us hungry for the other. Slowly, (y/n) lowers herself down onto my cock, both of us moaning at the connection. She throws her head back in pleasure and I reach up, hands wrapping around her back pulling her closer to me. I push my lips to hers as she begins to grind herself down into me.

“Fuck-”, I mumble against her mouth. “You’re so tight, baby.”

“You feel so good Spence,” she responds as she moves her mouth down to my neck. I rest my head against the cool wall as she continues to ride me effortlessly. She gains her rhythm quickly, both of us chasing our highs.

“(Y/n),” I say moving my hands up to her face. “Wait.”

“You okay?” She asks, her hips stopping immediately.

“What else was in your fantasy? What else do you want me to do?” I ask, the words fumbling out of my mouth, in between gasps.

“Spencer,” she almost laughs. “This is more than enough. Stop using your big brain,” she leans forward and presses a gentle, sweet kiss to my lips. I rest my hands on her back, lowering them under her legs, lifting her up off of me. She raises her eyebrows at me confused, “I’m not coordinated enough to lift us both.” I respond and (y/n) audibly laughs. I stand from the bench and pull her closer to me. She stands on her toes to reach my mouth and once she does I scoop my arms under her thighs as she jumps into my arms. The kiss gets heated again as I spin us around quickly, but carefully (so I don’t trip over myself and my pants around my ankles) and rest her back against the cool cement walls. The cold bricks chill her instantly as I feel goosebumps rise on her skin. I lower her down onto my cock again and (y/n) gasps at the re-entry. Her legs wrap around my back pulling me closer and balancing herself around my waist. She pulls away from our kiss and looks directly at me, “you can move i'm okay.” I nod quickly and pulse my hips up into her quickly, repeating the action over and over until a rhythm sets in for both of us. (Y/n)’s hands push off my baseball cap, letting the hat hit the floor, as she tangles her finger in my loose curls. I move my mouth from hers and trail down the side of her neck, sucking gently at the connection between her jaw and neck. My hips continue to move in and out of her at a steady pace, our moans echoing throughout the empty dugout. Together, we reach our highs…(y/n) repeating my name over and over, as I say hers back. “I’m close, Spence-” she moans into my ear and I feel her tighten around me. I kiss her hard, pulling her bottom lip between my teeth gently.

“Come on, baby,” I say against her lips. “Let go.”

“Oh fuck, Spencer—fuck, fuck,” she mutters against my neck as she climaxes. Her thighs clench around my waist, her hands clawing down my back over my shirt. “Spencer, you’re so good to me. Cum for me, Dr. Reid.”

Her words bounce off the cement walls and hit me like a ton of bricks. With one more thrust, I release into her my legs trembling. (Y/n) slowly moves her legs down from my waist, as I lower her to the ground. My arms still linger around her back, as I pull out one final time. She stands on her unstable legs, leaning against the wall of the dugout, my hands resting on the wall aside her face. My head hangs in her face, curls falling down in front of my eyes as I try to steady my breathing.

“I’m impressed,” (y/n) comments, pushing my head up to meet her eyeline. “You didn’t trip over yourself and you held me up? The entire time?” She chuckles and a smile pulls at my lips. “My boyfriend is so strong and,” she reaches down to the floor picking up my baseball cap, placing it on my head, flicking the visor. “Athletic.”

“I’m coordinated when I need to be, especially for you,” I smile at her. “But athletic, not so much.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” she says, squatting down pulling up my boxers and pants. My hands still rest on the wall, head bowed, breath hitching as she works to redress me. She latches the belt around my waist and peers up at me, “I can confidently say, fantasy fulfilled.”

“Yeah?” I ask as she pulls my hands down from the wall, placing them on her hips.

“Yes, Spencer,” she stands on her toes and kisses my forehead. “Thank you.”

—

I raise my hand to Garcia’s front door, knocking twice before the door swings open.

“Spencer! (Y/n)!” Emily smiles and pulls us into a group hug. “Drinks are over there, still waiting on Hotch and JJ!”

“Practice went well?” Garcia asks while grabbing a chip from the bowl.

“Yeah, Spence is definitely improving.” (Y/n) smiles, leaning in against my arm.

“Come,” Emily reaches for (y/n)’s hands. “Let me make you a drink!” (Y/n) laughs and follows Prentiss across the room into the kitchen. Her, Emily, and Penelope laugh while mixing a drink by the counter. I look on from the other side of the room and run my hands through my hair, trying my best to fix it.

“So,” Morgan clasps a hand on my shoulder. “You found your motivation, huh, Kid?”

“Yeah, guess you could say that,” I say, giving him a coy smile.

—

so, the weather??? HAHA anyways friends I hope you enjoyed my first Spencer NSFW/18+ writing....had to get it out of my system ;)

leave requests here! // masterlist

stay safe and wear a mask! -m

#Spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #Spencer reid smut #spencer reid writing #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spence reid #criminal minds #criminal minds writing #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds smut #spencer reid x female!reader #Spencer reid blurb #tw: smut #tw: sex

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rocorambles · 3 years

Text

Divine (Dogs) Intervention

Pairing: Megumi x Reader

Prompt: Accidental Kiss

Summary: Megumi forms his own views of love

A/N: This is for the Anilysium SFW Collab. Masterlist can be found here!

Megumi sighs in relief, grateful for the peace and quiet the further he treks into the woods surrounding Jujutsu High. As much as he’s become accustomed to Nobara’s snide but clever remarks and Itadori’s silly cheerful ramblings, he cherishes the time he can truly be by himself, one with nature, one with the darkness and shadows curling inside, calling to him.

He takes a careful look around, eyes narrowing as he tries to find any hint of Gojo’s cursed energy lingering anywhere. But deeming himself well and truly alone, he grins, hands coming together and forming a seal, letting his guard down as his divine dogs wag their tails, growling and jumping around him playfully.

Megumi knows the rest of the Zenin clan would sneer and mock him if they saw how he lets the shikigami play, how he pets and coddles them as if they really were just two oversized dogs. But after all the pain and loneliness they’ve caused him, that he’s suffered through, he thinks he’s allowed some indulgences. And if that small relief comes in the form of two black and white furry packages, so be it.

He blames the fact that it’s a rare day without missions or lessons for his carelessness, for the way he doesn’t sense your presence. But fortunately for him, his dogs aren’t nearly as oblivious and his eyes widen in alarm as they cease their scuffle with each other, ears and heads suddenly alert. And suddenly they’re racing off into the distance, deeper and deeper into the forest, and it’s all he can do to keep them within view as he chases after the two excited creatures.

Megumi’s tempted to call their names, order them to stop, but a sense of curiosity and apprehension keeps him quiet and he continues to trail silently, on guard about what exactly has caught their attention. He hones in on the energy surrounding him, expanding his senses, broader and broader…

There.

The presence is so human, so normal, it’s no surprise it had completely slipped underneath Megumi’s radar. He feels his shoulder loosen, only to tense in mortification when he hears a crash and finds his two gigantic dogs pinning you to the ground, panting, licking, and slobbering all over your face as you squeal and flail.

“Off! Get off her!”

Megumi rolls his eyes in fond exasperation as the dogs whine at the harshness of his tone, bouncing back and forth from licking and nudging his hand for head pats to prove he’s not too angry (which he grants them) to giddily nuzzling their noses against your face, sniffing you curiously but barking happily when you get over your initial shock and begin to coo and pet them as you sit up.

You certainly don’t seem like a threat and Megumi allows himself to relax and observe you when he ascertains that you’re just a civilian who’s accidentally found themselves here. He hasn’t met many humans outside of the small circle of jujutsu sorcerers he’s been raised among and he can’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia, a sense of what-ifs as he watches you, so carefree, so innocent, so naive as you pet and play with what you think are just two adorable dogs. He wonders if that’s what his life could have been like too if his parents were still around, if he’d never gotten entangled with Gojo, with the Zenin, with jujutsu sorcerers.

But he knows better than to dream, forced too early on to understand how heavy the weight of reality is and he brings himself back to the present. He offers you a hand to help you stand, apologizing for his dogs, although he snorts about how clearly not sorry they are as they continue circling between and around your legs, practically begging for more attention.

“You really shouldn’t be here. These are the school’s private grounds.”

Even Megumi winces at how harsh he sounds and he awkwardly rubs the back of his head as you flinch, frantically apologizing and looking like you’re about to run to be anywhere else but here.

“But if you want to stick around just for today while I’m here, that’s fine…”

He trails off, ducking his face underneath the high collar of his uniform to hide the red flush gracing his visage as you gratefully beam at him, eyes sparkling, smile radiant.

But the dogs boredly circling the two of you and tired of whining for attention are not nearly as enamored with your demeanor as Megumi and suddenly two heavy weights are leaping on Megumi’s back, forcing him to topple forward, bringing you down with him. And as your bodies crash to the ground, your lips meet.

Physical intimacy is not something Megumi has ever had the chance to become closely acquainted with, platonic or romantic. He freezes at how soft yet solid your lips are against his, your scent that wafts around him from your proximity, the warmth of your body beneath his. He’s been privy to quite possibly the world’s most stunning eyes, but as he gazes into yours, so close that it feels like your eyelashes will accidentally entangle, he vaguely thinks that Gojo’s eyes have nothing on yours.

But time isn’t frozen for all and the two of you yelp when wet tongues and furry heads join the two of you, the dogs whining for attention and to be included in what they think is just two human-sized dogs playing with each other. And embarrassed, the two of you gratefully scramble to take life’s easy way out, separating from each other and each grabbing one dog to coddle and distract yourselves with.

However even as adorable as they are, the dogs only partially take your minds off of what just transpired and your face heats as your fingers absentmindedly brush against your lips, remembering the comforting heat pressed against them. Megumi’s not faring much better as he subtly tries to glance at you between pets, ducking his flushed face beneath his collar once again when he accidentally catches you touching your lips, the action making his own lips tingle in pleasant memory.

But it’s more than just the physical, it’s an awakening of sorts. All his life Megumi has been raised with a sense of duty, of responsibility. Romance, love, those are all foreign concepts to him, concepts none of the adults or kids he grew up with, other than Yuta, cared for. And as much as he respects his senpai, he’s not sure if that’s necessarily the kind of love he wants for himself (no disrespect to the Queen of Curses).

He’s not saying this is love, it definitely isn’t...yet. It’s curiosity, attraction, interest at most. But he’s surprised by how much he craves it. He’s grown up associating love with pain, death, and loss. No one told him it could also be so freeing. No one told him how normal it would feel. No one told him that it would be the sprinkle of water and ray of sunlight he needed to help grow the cold bud that lay dormant in him after the loss of his father and Tsumiki.

For once he feels hope, feels like this might truly be a new beginning and as the little plant in his heart finally blossoms, he takes the initiative he’s avoided for so long, letting himself be greedy, letting himself believe that maybe, just maybe, there’s something more for him than exorcising curse after curse.

He asks you about your life, your family, your friends, your interests and then he does what he’s always done best. He listens, finding peace in the cadence and pitch of your voice, feeling his heart flutter as you grow more and more comfortable, becoming more animated as you tell him about your favorite foods, the school subject you struggle with the most, the plans you have coming up for your friend’s birthday. And in return he tells you about the father figure/older brother in his life who has a sweet tooth, the cheerful idiot who lives next to him, and the loud-mouthed female classmate who recently joined Jujutsu High.

But before he can continue on, trying to figure out what to leave out for now and how to sugar coat the rest, his eyes widen in surprise at how dark it’s gotten, how low the sun is in the sky. Quickly catching on to what’s caught his attention when you see him cut off mid-sentence and check the time on his phone, you sheepishly laugh, a hint of disappointment in the sound as you lament on having to part ways with the boy you’ve just met yet who’s somehow nestled a way into your heart.

“I guess I should be going. It’s getting late.”

“I’ll walk you to the train station.”

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your face as his tall lean form stands up with yours, a furry dog on either side of you as the four of you make your way out of the forest and down paved sidewalks. The two of you bask in these last moments together, something distressing twisting at your insides when you see the station up ahead, the feeling of finality settling heavily on your shoulders.

There’s already the bitter taste of farewell on Megumi’s tongue as the two of you stand in front of the station entrance, a taste he’s far too familiar with. But before he can utter a word, he’s startled by a bright screen being shoved in his face, eyes blinking in surprise as he stares at the empty contact form in front of him.

“You know...Umm...In case I want to trespass on private property again or if you want to go to that cat cafe I talked about earlier…”

Before you can make a fool of yourself any longer, long slender fingers are plucking the phone from your hands, and relief flows through you as you watch Megumi type his name and number in. There’s an extra bounce in your step when you gleefully take your phone back and he playfully rolls his eyes at the way you mischievously stick your tongue out at him when he lightly warns you not to just waltz onto Jujutsu High property without him as a guide.

And as you board the train, both of you exchanging farewells and even the dogs wagging their tails in their own silent form of goodbye, Megumi smiles down at the new text that appears on his screen, swiftly saving your contact before making his way back to the school.

Maybe he’d have to reconsider his aversion to exploring Tokyo.

#jujutsu kaisen fic #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen fluff #megumi x reader #megumi fluff #jujutsu kaisen scenarios

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hanniiesuckle17 · 3 years

Text

Ateez Reaction: Going Clubbing with S/o

A/n: so this was requested based off my reaction for SKZ which you can find on my m.list at the bottom of the reaction! i hope you guys enjoy it! <3

Requested by: @sleepyhead00i

Warnings: suggestive, of age drinking, maybe a cuss or two

Hongjoong:

“I’m picking you up in ten mintues right?” Hongjoong asked for the fifth time over the phone. The device was laying on your bathroom counter, your boyfriend talking on speaker phone as you finished applying your makeup up. You smiled at how cute he was, brushing setting powder away from your cheeks.

“Joong, baby...honey..., yes. Come early if you want. Just chill. It’s just a night out!”

He sighed before agreeing with you and hanging up the phone. Hongjoong wasn’t the only one with a busy schedule. He was busy being the leader, producer, and composer for one of the biggest up-and-coming k-pop groups of the current generation. You were busy with college and a part-time job that was having you work almost thirty to forty hours a week.

Your boyfriend was a planner. Never before in his life had he been one to schedule things or even make long term plans for his future. Then you came along and all he could think about was making time for you. Any time he spent with you, he wanted to be perfect. Hongjoong wanted to give you only the best.

By the time the two of you got to the club it was already packed. Your hand was laced with his as he guided you through the lavishly decorated room. “They’ve got amazing bottle service!” Hongjoong shouted over the music. “Do you want to get a table?” He smiled as you nodded and flagged down a waitress. She reserved a VIP booth for the two of you and grinned as you pulled Hongjoong to the dance floor.

“Do you like the music? I looked up this DJ. He’s really good. He only plays for like the top nightclubs in Seoul-”

“Joong,”

“What?”

Sliding your hands up his chest, you felt him shiver. Your fingers played with his dyed hair and you watched his eyes sparkle underneath the flashing colored lights and lasers. The many piercings in his ears glinted, catching the glare of gobos. “Relax, baby.”

“I just want everything to be perfect. I want you to love tonight.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, but you continued to move to the beat. His eyes never left yours even as you guided him away from the dance floor and back to the booth. His dark mesmerizing eyes watched as you pushed him down onto the seat, lips curling up into a smile. As you leaned over him, Hongjoong pulled you down onto his lap, smirking as you played with the straps of his suspenders before snapping one of them on his chest lightly.

Finally, almost when you thought he would stop breathing, you pressed your lips against his, dragging them slowly together. His hands gripped your hips, moving them over his own, lost in the solitude of your own private nook. “Just keep doing this and I’ll love every second of tonight,” You whispered against your boyfriend’s grinning lips. You laughed feeling him flip you over to lie on the plush velvet booth. Even in the dark corner, his smile glowed.

“You drive me crazy, Y/n.”

Seonghwa:

Clubbing never really appealed to Seonghwa. Dancing and public events were part of his job on a daily basis so he didn’t really see the point of waiting in line just to do that in his free time. But, when he heard how much you wanted to spend the night at an up and coming nightclub, he figured he could put aside his opinions just for you. He also wasn’t complaining when he saw the dress you were wearing out.

Arm wrapped tightly around your waist the two of you entered the club, lasers and colorful lights flashing all around the space. Seonghwa nodded his head to the music as you both stood waiting to check your coats. The second an attendant took your jackets you grabbed your boyfriend by the wrist and practically dragged him onto the dance floor.

“Don’t tear my arm off, babe!” He laughed.

The grin quickly turned to a smirk feeling you pressed up against him, moving to the music. “Still feel like going to the club isn’t fun?” His long hands attached themselves to your waist, tugging your back to be flush to his chest. Seonghwa’s hips moved to the thumping rhythm with yours and his head dropped to your neck, hair tickling your cheek in the most enchanting way. “Well, look at you, Toothless.”

“Yes, look at me,” He whispered for only you to hear.

Turning your head your lips met his in a kiss that made you feel drunk. Pulling away, the two of you smiled and danced with each other, savoring the moments when even you were surrounded by so many other bodies it only felt like just you and your boyfriend.

Hours later you were sitting on the sidewalk, head feeling too heavy for your neck to hold up. You giggled to yourself at how funny your feet looked in the strappy heels you put on for the night. Sitting under the street light you stared at the ground and your silly looking toes. Another pair of shoes came into sigh and the person attached crouched down in front of you.

A happy smile appeared on your lips seeing Seonghwa looking down at you. His own cheeks were slightly pink for the few drinks he had. “Drink this, muffin.” Your boyfriend handed you some bottle of something he got from the convenience store across the street. After drinking it, he gently lifted you up and maneuvered you onto his back. “Time to go home, Y/n.” You only giggled, pressing a sloppy drunk kiss to his cheek.

“Onward my valiant steed!”

Seonghwa, tipsy himself, neighed like a horse and carried you to the nearest bus stop he could find. The two of you giggled and poked each other until the public transport arrived to take you both home.

Yunho:

Yunho was practically bouncing as the two of you waited in line. He was so excited. This all started when your boyfriend invited over one of the backup dancers he was close to. You had no problem with Yunho bringing friends over to your shared apartment. He could bring whoever he wanted as long as th eplace was clean and he texted you.

But, the dancer would not stop going on about a new club that opened up in Hongdae. Normally when Yunho got excited about something he would be obsessed with it for about a week and then never thought about it again.

You had been to this club not once, not twice, not thrice, but five times in the past three weeks. By this time the owner knew you and was saving a booth for you when you came. The bartenders knew you by name and what your usual drink orders.

Despite the chilly air your boyfriend jumped up and down in excitement as the line moved forward. “Y/n! Y/n! Look! We’re almost inside!” Yunho grabbed your hands, swinging them as he bounced.

“Bear, are you sure you aren’t tired of going clubbing?”

He tilted his head in response to your words. “What? No. I love it! Don’t you, baby?” His lips pouted and your tall boyfriend hunched his shoulders. Quickly you shook your head.

“Of course, bear! I just want to make sure you love it still!” You rubbed your arms feeling a particularly cold wind blow by. Seeing you shiver, Yunho shed his jacket and placed it around your shoulders, pulling up the collar to block the wind.

“Good.” The tall idol leaned down, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let’s get inside.”

Showing the bouncer your IDs, the two of you entered the club immersing yourselves in music that sent vibrations all throughout your body. “Get me a drink?” You asked, dropping off your stuff at a secluded booth. Yunho nodded and disappeared into the crowd towards the bar.

He was only gone a few moments before you heard, “DRINKS ON ME EVERYBODY!” The familiar sound of your boyfriend’s voice floated over the crowd of people cheering at the opporunity of a free drink. Shaking your head you waited for your big loveable bear to return. He appeared with two drinks in hand, a big smile on his face, and a wiggle in his hips. The vision couldn’t help but make you laugh. “Your beverage, my lady,” He bowed before handing you the martini.

After finishing your drinks, your boyfriend pulled you onto the dance floor. He held you tight and made sure to show off his moves. By the time you left the dance floor, the both of you were covered in sweat with big grins and definitely a little tipsy. However, it didn’t matter. You loved seeing how happy Yunho was dancing and freestyling to songs that he wouldn't even remember the next morning. As long as it made him happy, you would keep doing it.

Yeosang:

The second you walked into the club Yeosang made a beeline for the booth and flagged down the nearest waiter. Wooyoung just shrugged and dragged you onto the dance floor. The next time you looked over Yeosang was surrounded by at least two orders of chicken and one burger. Each had bites already taken and your boyfriend was happily chewing on a drumstick.

He saw you looking at him and waved to you before returning his attention to the piece of fried poltry. You sighed but continued dancing with Wooyoung. Maybe you were crazy, but when you suggested going clubbing to Yeosang, you didn’t think you would end up dancing with his dongsaeng while he pigged out on good bar food. You had dressed up for fucks sake! You made sure you looked like a hot ass bitch and Yeosang was more interested in a chicken leg.

Wooyoung made sure you were happy. He danced with you. Blocked off weird guys from getting to close. Even held your drink when you went to the bathroom. Wooyoung was acting more like your boyfriend than Yeosang was!

Two hours passed and you finally decided to confront him. Wooyoung trailed behind you like a puppy as you approached the booth that housed your boyfriend. Shockingly, the table was now filled with not only another basket of chicken but also quite the assortment of drinks, none of which had been touched. “Kang Yeosang!” You scolded, hands on your hips. He looked up at you, handsome face looking even better under the purple and blue lights. “Why am I dancing alone?”

He shrugged. “Babe, you aren’t alone. Wooyoung’s here. That’s why I asked him.” He said motioning to his friend. The boy awkwardly waved before sitting down and taking one of the untouched cocktails.

“Where did all these come from?” You asked, getting frustrated.

“I don’t know. The bartender keeps sending them.” Yeosang continued to eat chicken until the bone was clean. “Says they are free though, so take one.”

You scoffed, tongue prodding at the inside of your cheek in annoyance. Looking around the venue, you were met with many pairs of eyes belonging to beautiful scantily dressed girls and a few men who were all staring at your boyfriend. Your boyfriend- of course- was staring at the perfectly fried chicken leg in his hands.

Taking the nearest blue colored drink, you downed it in one go then slammed the glass on the table. Woyoung jumped at the sound. Before Yeosang could take a bite of the new piece between his fingers, you pulled him up by his collar smashing your lips against his. Hearing a slight thunk you assumed he had dropped his precious drumstick. Regardless, he kissed you back with a fiery passion running his fingers threw your hair.

“You’re dancing with me.”

“Okay.” Eyeing every person staring at your boyfriend you took his hand and pulled him onto the dance floor, but not before he managed to sneak another piece of chicken with him. “You have what you want now, kitten?” He asked dancing with you, one hand creeping towards your ass and the other holding his fried chicken.

“I’ll take what I can get,”

San:

“San......SAN!”

“Yes, what?”

Your boyfriend was walking down the street with you, excited and bouncing as the both of you made your way to a club a lot of idols went to. This was no time for excitement. Not for you anyway. You and San had only been dating a few months. It wasn’t that you were shy...it was just that San was very territorial. Out of all seven of his bandmates you had only met two.

Hongjoong you had met unfortunately after he walked in on you and San when your horndog boyfriend thought the dorms were empty for the day. You were still trying to get over the embarassment of looking that man in the eyes and not remembering he had seen you naked already. Wooyoung you had also met, with clothes on (Thank the fucking lord). Him being San’s best friend it didn’t make sense for you not to meet.

“What if they don’t like me?” You questioned. There was only a block standing between you and the club. “What if they hate me, San?” He stopped and turned to look at you, eyes softening.

Walking back, San took your hands in his. “Y/n. You’re mine. Therefore, they will love you.” Taking a deep breath you let San pull you the rest of the way and into the nightclub. San was like an anchoring, keeping you tethered and focused as you maneuvered to the back of the venue. As you approached a view of seven extremely handsome men were all seated in a round velvet booth. “Guys, meet Y/n- the most attractive person on the planet besides me.”

All the boys were very kind, getting up and greeting you warmly. Hongjoong hugged you, and Wooyoung tackled you. “You’re pretty.” A willowy man stated matter of factly.

San nodded, hand on the small of your back. “That Yeosang. Yunho made sure he had a couple drinks before you met so it’d be easier on you.” You nodded in understanding, mouth shaping into an ‘O’. After a few minutes of awkward conversation all seven idols dragged you out onto the dance floor.

Dancing with seven men who did it professionally was definitely an experience you were not going to get used to. The entire club watched the tree you remembered as Yunho freestyle in the middle of an open circle that had formed at one point.

Throughout the whole night San stayed by your side. His hands were almost always on your ass, but he was by your side. You got surprisingly close with Seonghwa, dancing and talking with him most of the night. The other boys were very welcoming, pulling you into dance with them, twirling you around and jumping around you when a particularly good song came on.

San and Wooyoung at one point during the night bribed the DJ to play one of their songs and the boys were shocked to see you doing the choreography along with them. You could see in your boyfriend’s face that this was what he had planned all along.

He knew that if he kept both him and you sober and brought you to a neutral environment to meet with the boys, you would get along. He probably saw it in a video about introducing a new pet to your other ones knowing San. Around three am you were helping Seonghwa and Hongjoong stuff a drunk Yeosang and Mingi into the group’s van.

After saying goodbye, San took your hand as you walked to the nearest subway station. “See that wasn’t so bad. They loved you!”

“Next time don’t treat us like cats, babe.” Your boyfriend laughed swinging your hands back and forth. “I’m hungry. You want to get some food?” You asked, seeing a pizza place across the street still open

“Fuck yes. I’m starving.”

Mingi:

Your best friend just got dumped by her boyfriend and you knew only one way to distract her. So, you gathered up you other two best girl friends and Mingi then dragged them to the club with the most attractive guys and strongest alcohol you could find. F/n whipped her hair around as the four of you jumped around on the dance floor. Three shots of tequila and one strong cocktail made you at least think you were the greatest dancer in the entire club.

Deciding you needed a break from a very creepy guy trying to grind on you, you manuevered and wiggled your way off the dance floor. Your eyes landed on the tall glass of water that was your boyfriend, who sat at the bar. With a tipsy gait you walked over and draped yourself over his shoulder.

“Hi, baby!” You greeted, sloppily kissing his cheek.

Despite your slightly drunk antics, Mingi smiled holding onto your arms that tightly hugged his shoulders. “You look like you’re having fun.” He laughed as you hiccuped in response. “Wow...you’re cute.”

Blushing from both the drinks and your boyfriend’s words, you held onto his large hands. “Thank you for being our driver tonight, Mingi.” He smiled and handed you the glass of water he was drinking from. His long fingers pushed the bottom of the cup to tilt towards your lips.

“Of course. In fact the only reason I got my driver’s license was so I could watch creepy horny guys hit on my girlfriend and then drive her and her friends home.” As if the universe wanted to make a joke, the bar tender approached with a cosmopolitan in hand.

“For the lady, from the guy at the end of the bar.”

Mingi’s sarcastic grin quickly turned into a scowl as the both of you turned to look at the sleezy but semi attractive man who was waving at you. Your boyfriend wasn’t one to get angry, but when he did he was scary. Mingi’s eyes darkened and his long arms wrapped around your waist protectively as if to claim you as his own.

Smirking, you picked the vessel up by the rim and took a sip of the drink before grabbing your boyfriend by the jaw and smashing your lips on his, still holding the gifted cocktail. Standing between Mingi’s long legs you dragged your teeth over his bottom lip. “I think he knows you’re mine.”

“Just cause you’re driving doesn’t mean you can’t dance with me.” Mingi laughed as you pulled him from his seat.

“I thought this was a ‘Girls-Hate-All-Guys-Except-For-The-Random-One-F/n-Goes-Home-With-Night’?”

You shrugged, lacing your fingers with his. Surpringly, your friends greeted him excitedly. Mingi started dancing with you, enjoying the knowledge that every guy who looked at you that night was jealous you chose him to grind on. At the end of the night Mingi drove you and your friends back safely and put you to bed in your shared apartment. He kissed your forehead before climbing into bed next you. You were so thankful to have a kind and patient boyfriend willing to put up with not only drunk you, but also your drunk, sad, crazy friends.

Wooyoung:

Sweat dripped off your forehead. Between Wooyoung’s hands on your body and the music thumping and vibrating through the floor and up into your bones you couldn’t help but feel like you were floating. Not only was your boyfriend one hell of a dancer on stage, but moving with him on the floor of this club that you couldn’t even remember the name of was a thrill you wouldn’t trade for anything.

“I'm thirsty,” You whispered into his ear, lips brushing his skin.

“Oh are you?” A smirk played at his lips, fingers holding tighter onto your hips.

You rolled your eyes, still presssing against your boyfriend. “Liquid thirsty. Not you thirsty.” Lauging, Woouyoung took your hand in his and brought you to the bar for yet another drink. It had only been an hour and the both of you were a little more than tipsy. “Sidecar please, babe.” He nodded, flagging down a bartender all the while his hand stayed firmly gripping onto your ass.

“One sidecar and four tequila shots please.”

“Four?” You asked, pulling on his shirt sleeve. Wooyoung nodded like it was the most clear and obvious knowledge in the world. “I have a feeling I’m going to be carrying you home.” He just laughed and turned back to the bar.

Two hours later and your feeling was turning out to be correct. There was nothing you could do but stare as your boyfriend danced like a stripper ontop of the bar. At first it was funny. Then you stopped laughing when Wooyoung started unbuttoning his shirt. “Babe, get down!” You shouted over the cheers and music. He couldn’t hear you. He was way too drunk and having way too much fun.

“I am Jung Wooyoung! I am a sex machine! And that person,” He pointed to you, eyes clearly not focusing well. “THAT ASS IS MINE!”

Before you could respond, two very big men in black shirts lumbered through the crowd. Now it was your turn to laugh as the two buff bouncers grabbed Wooyoung by the arms, one struggling to get your boyfriend’s shirt back on, and lifted him off the bar. “Who does this hooligan belong to?”

You raised your hand, squeezing through the pack of young people. “Me. He belongs to me! I’ll take the hooligan.” Despite claiming your overly intoxicated boyfriend, the bouncers carried him outside, you trailing behind.

Wooyoung’s feet wobbly reached the ground and he stumbled onto the street. “Y/n? Y/n where are youuuu?” He said giggling. “Love of my liiiiiifffeeeee!” The bouncers shook their heads before turning to you with serious faces.

“Yeah, he’s not allowed back here.”

“Noted.”

“Y/NNNNNNNNNNNNN! BAAABBBYYYY!”

Turning, you saw the idol once again free of his shirt and hugging a street sign. “Babe, babe- that’s not me. I’m over here.” Taking his arm and pulling it over your shoulder you started walking away from the club. “Wow, you are way heavier than I thought.”

“DON’T FAT SHAME ME!”

“Woo- please don’t yell.” No response came from the man you were carrying. Turning you saw him completely pass out on your shoulder. “There’s never a middle ground with him is there?” You mumbled, dragging your unconscious and heavy boyfriend to the nearest bus stop.

“Stop calling me fat, you jerk.”

“I- I didn’t- Just go back to fucking sleep.”

Jongho:

Jongho was not excited. This was the last place he wanted to be. He watched you happily walk in front of him with Mingi and Yunho. Jongho wasn’t the jealous type and he knew you loved his friends. Mingi was already a little drunk so your boyfriend watched as the other tall man and you attempted to keep him from stumbling, laughing the entire way.

Your group was currently walking from the first club to the second. The boys had gotten an entire weekend off and Yunho had proposed the amazing idea- only to you and Mingi- of going club crawling. Even though he would rather being doing practically anything else, Jongho tagged along because you were so excited.

As you entered the second venue you were greeted by what Jongho sweared was the exact same song the first club was playing when you left. You squealed, hugging onto your boyfriend as he and your friends squeezed your way to the bar. While your boyfriend was never one for PDA, he kept a hand on you at all times, gently letting everyone in the building know that you were off limits.

“LET’S SHAKE OUR BUTTS!” Mingi shouted, throwing you over his tall shoulder and running off with you to the dance floor. You waved to your boyfriend who stayed seated at the bar. “WOOOOOOO!” Your friend cheered, putting you down and immeditaley spinning you around.

Yunho tapped Jongho’s shoulder. The younger turned before being handed a beer. “If you aren’t going to dance you should at least loosen up. Tonight is supposed to be fun. For everybody.” Yunho tried to coax him onto the dance floor but failed, leaving Jongho at the bar taking tiny baby sips of the drink.

Everytime you looked to the bar, you were met with your boyfriend’s eyes staring back at you. He would give you a small smile, one that made you feel like a total bitch for leaving him by himself. Having enough, you walked away from your dancing bafoons and towards the handsome man waiting for you at the bar.

“You want a drink?” He asked, hand finding your waist once more. Nodding, you rested your head on his firm chest, breathing in his smell. You were drunk enough to get away with being clingy but sober enough to remember that the only reason your boyfriend was here was for you. “One manhatten for the lady please,” Jongho said to the bartender.

You were quickly passed your drink, pecking your boyfriend’s lips as a thank you. The drink left a pleasurable burn as it slid down your throat. “Darling, I’ve gotta go to the bathroom. I’ll be right back. Hold my drink?”

“Of course.” He kissed your cheek and covered your glass with his hand when you set it on the bartop.

When you returned he was still protecting the glass like it was his singular purpose in life. He practically looked like a dragon, ready to bite off the head of anyone who even came near it. He even glared at you when your hand touched his shoulder, but his gaze quickly softened eyes turning into that of a puppy.

The two of you talked and finished your drinks. Yunho and Mingi were still in full control of the dance floor when you checked. Suddenly you got an idea. Leaning over so only Jongho could hear, you whispered a large incentive he might receive when the two of you got home.

“Well come on, Y/n! Let’s dance!” He cheered, pulling you with him towards his friends, dancing along the way.

Masterlist

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theravencawsatmidnight · 3 years

Text

A Gift For The Engineer💚

Pt three

Tags. @weird-and-unusual @shy-ginger-in-the-graveyard @angeli-fucking-cat @needs-serotonin @iwasjustablur

The noise from the vent was still coming up making you shudder in your raggy clothes. What the hell was down there? And where were you? One minute you were hiking in the woods and the next..-

“SHUT YOUR FUCKING HOLE!!!!” a loud voice from in the vent startled you enough to make you fall out of your chair surprising the Lycan. He sniffed you, nudging your side checking to make sure you were okay and lightly nibbling at your shaking tail.

“Im.. im ok..” you assured the confused Lycan as you moved the hair from his face. “Your.. very nice..”

“Rr..!!” the Lycan scooted closer to lean on you sighing deep as if he was content. He was not a really roughed up Lycan; hsi chest was deep blue grey with some gashes but nothing too bad. Big alert eyes , some teeth missing and ripped pants that looked more like shorts. You pulled the overcoat close around yourself again sighing low. “Where am i …” you asked yourself. The Lycan flopped into your lap and the hat fell off your head. You picked it up looking at it, rubbing out the edges and dirt from it. “I guess.. “ you reached down to scratch the Lycans ear. “Monsters are real?”

“Rr..!!!!!” He hugged your hips, getting comfortable while you scratched behind his ear.

“Do you have a name?” you asked the interesting creature. He did not answer of course, hmm.. “Well.. how about.. Mm.. do you like Arthur? “

The Lycan licked at your stomach moving all around and you chuckled petting his head. “Okay, Arty it is.” you told the happy Lycan.

It was maybe an hour later when Heisenberg returned. The sound of heavy steps getting louder and louder woke you up along with Arty. You had laid down on the floor with the coat over you as a blanket with the hat next to you and Arty curled up on your side asleep. Heisenberg's eyes wandered around the room till they found you. You rubbed your eye sitting up looking up at this man. Arty sneezed himself awake jumping up to his feet in front of you to see Heisenberg, he moved to the side so the man could yank you up.

“Sleepy huh? I'm surprised you could sleep through all that ruckus.” he gestured to the vent. “Now then, your room is ready and ive got a present for ya!” he told you, letting you go to put on his hat and coat. “Cmon, cmon” he turned, moving back to the door making his way out.

“uhm.. Ok..” you pat your thigh getting the Lycans attention. “Cmon Arty”

“Rr!!!!” the happy lycan jumped to your side and Heisenberg looked back with confusion on his face. His brows bunched up in curiosity. “Did you name my Lycan?”

“Yeah.. i .. his names Arthur.. Arty for short..”

Heisenberg cocked his head at this; “did ya now? Well i hope you got more names” he tapped his hammer roughly on the steel bars alerting the many many more lycans all around you. “Cuz ive got a whole lot more!! Hahaha!!!”

“Heh,..” Chisel hurried up behind the humorous man following him up some stairs to a large empty room with one single door in the corner. Heisenberg taped on the reinforced walls with his knuckles. “Nothings getting in here. Except me of course. “ he swung the door open strolling in with his hammer on his shoulder and you behind him with Arty.

It was…. Well it was a room like he said but… it did not have much in it, well. Anything in it for that matter. You wiggled out in front of Heisenberg to walk around the room. It was clean at least but it had nothing in it. ..

“Like it?” he asked, putting his arm around your neck and his other hand on his hip.

“Uh .. well.. Yes but..”

“Hmm??”

“Can it have a window?”

“Haha!! A window!? Were under ground Chisel!! What cha wanna see? The bugs?!”

“N-no i .. okay…” you looked down at your hands seeing something shiny in the corner of the room.

Heisenberg pouted at the answer he got. Awww. fine fine fiiiiiineeeee “let me see what i can do , just for my Chisel, oh and. There's something for you over there” he pointed as he left the room.

Arty had made himself comfortable in a corner curling up just to stretch and roll onto his back then back to his side running in place til he got tired.

Chisel walked over to the corner kneeling down to see a metal collar staring at her. It had the name “Chisel” on it and a interesting crystal hanging off of it. “Is.. is he serious..” you picked it up feeling the goosebumps on your fingers. You managed to put the collar on adjusting it as best you could till you were comfortable. “Heavy.. “ you said to yourself touching some rusted scrap, poking at it. It fell over revealing what looked like coins to you. “Hmm?” you picked up the handful of coins reading them . “lei..?”. Before you could inspect further your neck jerked and your body moved up on its own and you were dragged to the door where Heisenberg was. The collar was sticking out into the air near his raised finger.

“Like it?” He dropped his hand and the collar fell too . you fell into him choking for a minute and he pat your back. “So how about a sun roof hm? Il move things around. And I guess i can look outside for a blanket or something.” he was rubbing your back now, in slow motions.

“Uhm.. okay.. Id.. like that.”

“Seee im not a bag guy eh?” he taunted walking out of the room bringing you with him. “I GUESS i can find clothes. Tsk tsk tsk, already costing me a fortune , Chisel. “

You were outside the factory now, Arty was running around with other Lycans and Heisenberg was throwing things in the air while he looked through his scrap and what not. You were wandering the grounds taking in the scenery; a huge factory.. A castle.. Waterfall and a.. Village? This was an interesting place...it has ot be some kind of magic right? Maybe other world? Supernatural..-

“WELL what do we have here?” said a jolly man in the distance.

You jumped looking over to see a carriage by the cliff. “Was that there.. Before?” you hurried over , the collar jingling around your neck . you saw a carriage and a large man sitting in it with a smile on his face.

“Chisel… nice to finally meet you”

“How.. how do you know..”

“I know many things! A Merchant must know his customers. Now then, those clothes look pretty tattered , fancy a look in my shop?”

You blinked trying to put this together, so this.. Uh. “whats your name?”

“You can call me the Duke,feel free to peruse”

The Duke had some clothes that were the perfect fit for you which was strange.. You offered the Duke the Lei you found and he happily exchanged with you. “Thank you for your patronage!”

The clothes you picked out were some boots, pants and a winter coat along with a long sleep shirt. It was nice to be warm… “uh .. thank you..” you came back around a rock to see the carriage gone. Instead you saw a bridge that was… not there before..

“y/n….. y/n….”

“..huh?” you stepped towards the bridge. “who..Wh whos ..”

You saw a figure on the other side of the bridge , they looked blurry and seemed to be waving.. “Cmon y/n… lets go home…..”

“Huh? Wait .. who are you!” you hurried making your way across the bridge , in the distance a laughing doll could be heard in the trees while Heisenberg was searching his grounds. Arty noticed you were not around and started barking.

“Mutt-!!.. Arty!!! SHUT UP-- .. Chisel?” all the metal around him fell and he whipped off his glasses seeing the bridge was up. “Oh shit.”

#.AgiftFic #heisenberg💚#heisenberg 💚#karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil village

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ao719 · 3 years

Text

Uncharted

A/N: This is nothing but pure self-indulgence on my part. I thought we might get the diamond scene this week, or at least some extra crumbs, but we didn’t. And here we are (I wrote this a few days ago after scanning the spoilers) Thank you to @dcbbw and @burnsoslow for prereading and mildly calming my nerves about posting, lol.

Pairing: Tatum x MC

Warnings: NS*W/18+

Tatum walks the perimeter outside Camp Eirene lodge, doing his nightly patrol. His puffs of air turn white as he treks through the snow with his gloved hands shoved into his pockets for added warmth.

As he continues his patrol, his mind wanders back to that moment he shared with Kennedy earlier; after escaping the press, once they were away from prying eyes, he kissed her.

With the scandal looming over Kennedy, Tatum knows he should be more mindful and cautious. She’s doing anything and everything she can to keep him out of it, refusing to reveal that it was him with her in those photographs because she wants to protect him as much as he wants to protect her. But ever since that night down by the lake during parents’ weekend, when he kissed her for the first time, he can’t seem to stay away.

Tatum’s always been the more levelheaded of the two, even when they were kids, but now that he’s had that first taste of Kennedy, finally acting on these feelings that he’s held for her for years, he’s struggling with keeping his epithet as the responsible one. He sees her, and all rational thought seems to disappear.

And their moments together just keep adding to the years’ worth of tension that has been building between them. Each kiss is more passionate than the one before it. Each touch is more heated. Each look seems to be filled with more longing and curiosity. And it all causes his thoughts to run more wild.

Tatum hears the crunching of snow under footsteps and glances up; his eyes land on Kennedy, wrapped in her winter coat and making her way towards him. It’s moments like this, when she purposely seeks him out, that crumble any resolve he’s holding onto. Because she can’t seem to stay away either, and as much as he knows that she should, he doesn’t want her to.

“What are you doing out here?” Tatum asks as she approaches him.

“I thought you could use some company,” she smiles. And that smile makes any thought Tatum has of them needing to be careful and cautious dissipate as quickly as the misty clouds from their breath.

“Come on,” he smiles in return. He offers his arm, and she curls her hand around it before they start walking.

“Aren’t you freezing out here?”

Tatum glances at her out of the corner of his eye. “Not so much now.”

They casually talk as they walk away from the lodge, and before they know it, they’re at a clearing covered in untouched snow. “Tatum, look!” Kennedy practically squeals, pointing to the overlook.

They step up to the edge of the mountain that the lodge sits atop and look out at the view. Below them, gold lights mark where a small town sits, surrounded by rocky, snow-covered mountains with the tops of each cast in a soft glow from the moonlight. Kennedy’s eyes slide up just above the mountains off in the distance, and she gasps at the star-filled sky.

“This is beautiful.”

“It is,” Tatum replies, but his eyes are on her, watching the awe fill her expression as she takes in the view.

“You don’t get views of the stars like this back home,” she says, her head now tilted completely back.

Tatum finally glances away from her and follows her gaze up to the sky; it’s a canvas of deep blue fading into black, littered with clusters of stars. Both he and Kennedy always had a penchant for stargazing; they used to do it all the time when they were younger, back before they had to worry about everyday life. They would lay out in the grounds of the state manor for hours; sometimes, they would even sneak up to the roof for more of an uninterrupted view.

He’s lost in thought over the memories as he stares up at the night sky, and he doesn’t feel Kennedy’s hand slip from around his arm. She bends down and scoops some snow into her hand with a mischievous smile. She takes a few careful steps back, making sure to place her feet in the footprints that are already made to not draw his attention.

Suddenly, Tatum’s eyes widen when he feels something hit the center of his back. He whirls around to see Kennedy bent down, already scooping more snow into her hand. “Really, Kennedy?” He tries to stay serious but can’t stop the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips from the sound of her laughter. She cocks her arm back and stares at him with an impish grin. “Don’t.” He lets out a grunt when the snowball nails him square in the chest. “Alright, you asked for it.”

Tatum bends down and easily scoops up double the amount of snow that she had into his gloved hand; Kennedy’s still laughing as she gathers more, her eyes darting between him and the ground. He packs the snow into a perfect ball and hurls it at her; she tries to turn out of the way when she sees it coming, but it clips her arm, and the ball bursts upon contact, dusting her in snow. “Tatum!”

“You started it!” Kennedy throws her next one, and Tatum ducks just in time; the snowball narrowly misses the top of his head. “No face shots, Kenz!”

They throw and dodge, trudging and stumbling through the snow as they both laugh. At this moment, they’re the old Kennedy and Tatum again, their responsibilities and everyday worries fleetingly forgotten. Kennedy lets out a yelp when Tatum hits her leg with another snowball. When she turns and bends down to grab more snow, Tatum takes the opportunity to strike; he scoops some into his hand and rushes her. When she stands, Tatum’s at her back; he reaches out and pulls back the collar of her coat and her shirt, dumping the snow from his hand down her back.

Kennedy’s eyes widen, and she gasps, arching her back when it hits her bare skin. “Cold! Cold, cold!”

Tatum laughs when she begins to wriggle as the snow works its way lower, melting from the heat of her body. Kennedy turns to face him, and while he’s laughing, she takes the chance to show off one of the self-defense moves she’s perfected that he showed her when they were younger. She slips her ankle behind his and shoves him, causing him to fall backward. But her plan backfires when he grabs her arm, taking her down with him. They land in the soft snow in a tangled, laughing heap.

Tatum shifts and tries to sit up but stops, dropping his head back. “I can’t …” He trails off, laughing too hard, and he doesn’t even know how the sound of it makes Kennedy’s heart swell. She is propped up in the crook of his arm and rests her forehead against his chest; he can feel her body shaking against his with laughter. “How’s your back?” he chuckles.

“It’s cold!” she giggles.

“You dropped your guard.”

Kennedy lifts her head; her face is barely visible in the pale moonlight, but Tatum can make out her smile, and he smiles in return. And in the next moment, she leans down, pressing her lips to his, and his arm instinctively tightens around her, drawing her closer. Despite lying in the cold, wet snow, he feels nothing but warmth.

Kennedy parts her lips, and their tongues meet, slowly curling together. The contrast of his cold lips and warm tongue against hers as the kiss deepens sends a shiver down her spine. Her head is spinning, and she feels weak in her knees even though she’s not standing as she loses herself in that kiss.

They slowly part a few moments later, both breathless, and Tatum becomes acutely aware of the cold snow he’s lying in; he lightly clears his throat before speaking. “I don’t know about you, but my ass is pretty numb.” Kennedy lets out a giggle at his words. “We should get you back inside before you freeze to death.” She nods in agreement before shifting away from his side. Once on her feet, she holds her hand out to help him up, and he playfully swats it away as he smiles, knowing they would both end up back in the snow.

****

They arrive back at the lodge, and Kennedy and Tatum make their way up to their rooms. They have the students of Vancross spread out over multiple floors, each one with their own room; their guards are housed in adjoining rooms for added security and quick access, just in case.

They stop outside of Kennedy’s door; she unlocks it, and Tatum stops her before she can step through the threshold; he enters first to do a cursory check of her room. Once he’s finished, he turns toward her just as she steps inside and slips off her coat; the back of her shirt is soaked, and he feels a sliver of guilt for dumping the snow down her back, but he chuckles at the same time. “You should start a fire. That’ll help warm you up.”

Kennedy picks up a small remote from the nightstand; she points it and clicks, igniting the flames within the stone fireplace. “Easy.” She looks at him as she slips off her boots; he’s staring at her as if he’s waiting for her to tell him that she’s okay and he can go. But she doesn’t want him to. She stands upright and twists her fingers together as she stares back at him. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I can make some hot chocolate …” She points to the small brewer on the table that sits next to a basket filled with various pods of coffee, tea, and cocoa.

Tatum hesitates for a moment as his eyes slide from her over to the dancing flames of the fire. He knows he should say no … but he can’t. He wants to stay. “Okay,” he nods. “Let me go change real quick,” he says, motioning to his pants; they’re wet from their escapade in the snow. “I’ll be right back.”

Tatum moves to the communicating door, not latching it shut when he enters his room, and he shrugs off his jacket. He ruffles through his bag and pulls out a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt before stripping from his uniform, and his mind is racing. There seemed to be something in the way Kennedy asked him to stay, something different in her voice and her eyes. He knows that should have been a clear-cut sign that he should have declined her offer, but again, he didn’t want to. He can’t deny her anything.

Then he wonders if it’s all in his head, if he’s reading too much into it, only seeing and hearing what he wants to, no matter how much he knows he shouldn’t be thinking this way.

Once he’s dressed, Tatum walks over and pushes open the door that adjoins their rooms; when he steps inside, his eyes land on Kennedy’s bare back, and he freezes in place. Her chocolate brown hair cascades down past her shoulders, contrasting against her bronze skin; the sweatpants she changed into sit low on her hips, just below the dimples at the small of her back. Unable to peel his gaze away, his mind goes elsewhere, thinking about his hands and lips on her, how she would feel, what she would taste like.

Tatum can feel the heat creeping up his neck from his thoughts before he closes his eyes and tries to get the image of her bare skin from his mind; having a clear picture of it mixed with his musings was not doing him any favors. He finally turns his back to her, shakes his head as if to clear it, and lets out a breath before clearing his throat. “Uh … hey.”

Kennedy hears him and quickly pulls on her T-shirt. “Hi.” Tatum peeks over his shoulder, making sure she’s decent before facing her. Her eyes wander over him, taking notice of the way his black T-shirt and gray sweatpants detail the physique of his body; she meets his gaze and runs her fingers through her hair. “Here,” she smiles, motioning to the two mugs of hot chocolate in front of the fireplace.

Tatum walks over, and they both sit on the plush rug in front of the fire, surrounded by floor pillows as they each reach for one of the mugs. They both take a sip, letting the hot liquid slide down their throats, warming them. Tatum clicks his tongue as he looks into the cup pensively. “It’s not too bad for instant.”

“Definitely not like your dad’s homemade stuff. He always made the best.”

“Still does,” Tatum smiles.

“Next time we’re home, I’ll have to come by for a taste of our childhood,” Kennedy chuckles.

Tatum smiles, nodding in agreement. “He’d love that.”

They settle into a comfortable silence in front of the fire as they nurse their drinks. Tatum sets his mug down on the small table next to him when he’s finished and glances over at Kennedy; she looks at him and softly chuckles. “Ya got a little …” She trails off, motioning to his lip.

Tatum wipes his mouth. “Did I get it?”

“No,” Kennedy laughs as she shakes her head. She reaches up and softly brushes her thumb along the side of his upper lip to remove the excess chocolate; when she meets his gaze, he’s staring at her intently. “There,” she says, but her hand doesn’t move.

Tatum’s eyes flicker from hers down to her full lips, and he feels that instant pull towards her take over. It always does. And now he can’t think of anything else at that moment other than how much he wants to kiss her again. He doesn’t even realize he’s leaning in until his lips capture hers.

He cups the side of her neck, brushing his thumb across her cheek, and the soft caress from his lips draws a sigh from her before the kiss starts to deepen. She’s kissing him with fervor, and all he can feel is her as that moment begins to consume every part of him; nothing else matters but the taste of her lips and the feel of her tongue against his.

Without breaking the kiss, Kennedy shifts, and in the next moment, she’s straddling his lap. He curls his arm around her while his other hand slides up her back, tangling in her hair. His skin feels like it’s on fire from the heat coursing through his veins as each curl of her tongue against his stokes his desire for her even more. He can feel the sliver of self-restraint he’s holding onto beginning to unravel. Tatum’s hands begin to roam, sliding down the contours of her body before they stop at the hem of her shirt; he bunches the fabric in his hands, knowing what he wants to do but battling that little voice in the back of his mind that says he shouldn’t.

But Kennedy shows him that she wants the same thing when her arms drop from around his neck, and she rests her hands atop his as she slowly draws back from their kiss. Her eyes are locked on his, both mirroring the others’ passion and longing for more. His hands are still holding the hem of her shirt when she starts to guide them up, and he takes her cue, peeling it off. Tatum tosses the garment to the side and lets out a breath as his eyes roam over her; the flickering flames from the fire cast dancing amber hues on her skin, which is scantily clad in blue lace.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he whispers just before kissing her again. His hands curl around her waist, and despite the fire they’re sitting next to, Tatum feels goosebumps erupt beneath his touch. It’s like braille upon her skin, telling him how it feels without her uttering a single word.

Kennedy drops her hands to the hem of his shirt, and he can feel her smile against his lips. “Your turn,” she whispers before pulling it off. Tatum watches her bite her lower lip as she trails a finger down the hard planes of his chest before she leans in to kiss him again. His hands splayed against her back, holding her close to him.

She instinctively rolls her hips against him, and there’s no denying how much Tatum wants her; he knows she can feel the swell of his length pressed between her legs, and he can’t stop the throaty groan that escapes him when she does it. And when she kisses him deeper, pressing her body firmly against his, he knows she wants him too. His hands slide down her back to grip her hips and hold her in place, and he can feel them imperceptibly tremble against her, and his heart is thundering in his chest because, god, he is nervous.

This isn’t just anybody. This isn’t like the dalliances he’s had in the past. This isn’t just to scratch an itch. This is Kennedy Monroe, his best friend. It’s the girl he’s harbored feelings for for years, the girl he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember. And where this is headed between them is uncharted territory, and he knows nothing will be the same after. For him, he knows without a doubt that it’s a point of no return and that it will irrevocably change things between them forever.

But as nervous as he is, he’s never wanted anything -- or anyone -- more than this.

Tatum meets her gaze and audibly swallows. “Kenz … are you sure?” He needs to know; he needs to hear her say it.

Kennedy searches his eyes, and she knows him so well that she knows why he’s looking at her that way. He’s nervous. So is she. But she’s absolutely certain, and there’s nothing but assurance in her eyes. She curls her hand around his neck and draws his mouth back to hers. “I’m sure, Tatum,” she whispers just before their lips meet again.

It’s all the affirmation he needs.

Tatum ardently returns her kiss before his lips move to trail down her neck, and he inhales the sensual fragrance that clings to her skin. His fingers curl around the strap of her bra, pulling it down as his lips mark her now bare shoulder. His other hand slides around to her back, and with a quick flick of his fingers, her bra is unclasped and falling away from her chest. He captures her lips again as he discards the lacy garment before he flips them and lays her down on the plush rug.

Slowly, between deep kisses and gentle caresses, they strip each other from the rest of their clothes; Tatum’s breath catches in his throat when his eyes travel over her once she lays bare before him. He can’t stop his hand from ghosting the curve of her body, moving from the side of her breast to her hip as he drinks her in as if he’s attempting to memorize every detail. Kennedy’s dark brown hair blends in with the rug beneath her. Her skin shines golden in the firelight, and her eyes glitter as she holds Tatum’s gaze. He swallows thickly and feels his heartbeat quicken, and his stomach tighten.

Tatum is so transfixed that he doesn’t notice her reaching for him until his body tenses when her soft hand wraps around him, and he hisses at her touch. He leans down, and his mouth covers hers, his kiss filled with all the words he cannot say. He shifts, trailing his lips and teeth across her chest; he reaches her breast, swirling his tongue around her taut peak before drawing it into his mouth. Kennedy releases a slight gasp at his touch, and it encourages Tatum to lavish his attention on the other. He moves even lower as he continues to explore her with his mouth and hands; Kennedy’s sighs and squirms drive him into a fever pitch when he finally reaches the apex of her thighs.

Tatum glances up and meets Kennedy’s eyes, which are glazed with desire, as he hooks his arms around her, both of them feeling their every nerve ending tingling with anticipation. He presses his lips to her inner thigh, and she bites her lip as he tortiously nips and licks his way inward. He feels a slight satisfaction hearing her moan when his lips and warm breath ghost against her center; she craves the feel, and he needs the taste. He lets out a small exhale of relief that she wants him; he already knows he wants her more.

He will always want her more.

Tatum’s eyes glance up to meet hers again, and he notices hers are now clouded with lust. His eyes are still fixed on her when he finally gives in to what they both want and drops his mouth down; her head drops back at that first flick of his tongue, and a breathy moan falls from her lips. She relaxes into the plush rug as her hands plunge into his hair, and Tatum closes his eyes and groans against her, relishing in his first taste of her.

The sound of the crackling flames of the fire begins to drown under the sounds of Kennedy’s mewls and whimpers. She writhes against him, and Tatum is in awe of seeing and hearing her responses to what he’s doing to her. Kennedy always presents herself as so well put together, and knowing that he’s the reason she’s coming unhinged only spurs him on, and he’s relentless in his pursuit of her release. All too soon, he feels her body shaking, and his name is spilling from her lips as she tightens her grip on his hair and her back arches; he doesn’t let up, working her through it. Her release continues to ripple through her even when he pulls away; he moves and settles his body back over top of her and finds her lips again.

Tatum’s kiss is more insistent this time as his hand drifts down her thigh; instinctively, he lifts her leg to his waist. He slowly draws back from the kiss, still tasting her on his tongue. Firelight is reflected in his eyes as they search hers. Kennedy inhales a sharp breath before biting her lip when she feels him press against her, and he’s unsure if it’s from worry or anticipation. He didn’t think it was possible for his heart to beat any faster, but this very moment proves him wrong. “Kennedy,” he whispers; his tone is laced with longing but also a question.

And she knows. Her eyes soften as she cups his face in her hands and meets his gaze. Kennedy realizes Tatum doesn’t know how often she has dreamed of this moment with him. He doesn’t know that she longs to taste him, to feel him … to love him. “Yes, Tatum,” she breathes.

Upon hearing her words, Tatum slowly pushes into her, holding back a growl as he feels her wrap around him. His eyes quickly glance at her face, and he marvels at her blissful expression as he pushes even deeper. Then he stills for a moment, allowing them both to adjust to the sensation. Kennedy’s fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck, and he dips his head forward, pressing his forehead against hers as they begin to move in sync.

All his nerves and every uncertainty slips away as Tatum loses himself in her: in her whimpers and moans, in her lips on his, in the way she moves against him. He curses under his breath when Kennedy rolls her hips, and his grip on her tightens, digging his fingers into her supple thigh. He feels the sting of her nails rake down his back, and his mouth seeks out her neck, and his lips pull harshly at the soft skin. He’s tense with control, but it slowly begins to fray as he falls into a daze coaxed by her sounds and the way she feels.

She’s the one who’s making him come unhinged now as the years of tension between them finally snaps.

Tatum never thought he could feel like this, not with anyone, but especially not her. He’s spent so long telling himself that nothing between them would ever happen, that nothing could ever happen. He pushed down his feelings and kept them to himself. But everything reaches a crescendo in that moment with her, and he knows he’ll never be able to bury those feelings again.

Tatum chases his release when he feels Kennedy begin to crest into her own. He dips his mouth down, brushing his lips against the shell of her ear, and his sonorous voice whispers a command for her to let go.

And she does.

He feels it the moment she shatters, and his name drips from her lips as she clings to him, anchoring his body to hers as she rides out the shockwaves. Tatum follows her and lets out a deep groan as his muscles go taut, and he drops his head into the crook of her neck as his hand fists the rug beneath her. They’re both trembling and breathless, and he opens his eyes, seeing the firelight reflecting off the thin sheen of sweat on her flushed neck and chest.

Tatum brushes his lips languidly along her jaw until he meets hers, and he kisses her slow and deep as if to savor every last second of that moment with her, not quite ready for it to end. He slowly draws back and watches a warm smile spread across her lips as she stares back at him. And he can’t help but smile in return, still on a high.

When he shifts to her side, Tatum glances up towards the throw blanket that’s draped on the arm of the chair; he reaches for it and spreads it over them. He grabs one of the floor pillows and gently slides it beneath her head. He’s propped up on his arm, resting his head against his hand as he stares down at her; his other hand rests on her waist as they lie together in silence. He feels her fingers absentmindedly trace shapes against his chest in the quietude and takes notice of the satisfied glow on her face; in spite of that, he still finds himself wondering what she’s thinking and feeling, but he doesn’t ask.

And then other thoughts -- questions and what-if’s -- start to tumble in his mind, slowly forcing him away from the moment and back into reality.

As reluctant as he is to leave, he knows he should go back to his own room. Eventually, Tatum forces himself to sit up, looking for his discarded clothes. When he reaches for his shirt, he stops when he feels Kennedy’s hand gently grab his arm, and he glances over his shoulder at her.

“Don’t go, Tatum. Please stay,” she says. Tatum parts his lips to respond, but he stops when he sees the look in her eyes. He lets out a soft breath and sinks back down next to her because, again, there’s nothing he can deny her.

Kennedy turns on her side towards the fire, and she curls up against his chest, molding her body to his beneath the blanket as he wraps his arm around her; she rests her arm atop his and laces their fingers together. Tatum sees the corner of her mouth tug into a smile when he presses a soft kiss to her shoulder.

And despite the questions looming over him about what this means, what comes next, and where they go from here, everything about that moment with her in his arms feels right.

It feels like home.

***********************

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darkimaginarydesires · 3 years

Text

Tease Me - Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) x Reader

《 star wars fandom • din djarin x reader • mandalorian x reader 》

☆ you are responsible for your media consumption. this content has extreme warnings / triggers. this content may make some people uncomfortable. please be safe and take warnings seriously. if you need help or need to talk to someone, i am available for anyone ☆

♡ warnings: teasing, punishment, cunnilingus, p in the v, all is consensual this time ♡

《 summary: a job requires you to play the role of the Mandalorian’s slave. when you decide to have a little fun, he decides to show you where teasing will get you. 》

「 Side Note: Reader and the Mandalorian have an understood arrangement regarding his helmet. Reader knows to not look at him when he takes it off, and he tells her when he puts it back on. Let's just say, they've done this many times, so they are used to it... enjoy! 」

“She’s my slave,” Din announced. “She goes where I go.”

The bouncer and you matched a reaction of shock, but both quickly concealed.

“Is that so?” He asked, looking you over once again. “How did you get a sexy little thing like her so indebted to you? I’d pay for the night, if you’re willing.”

You fought all urges to kill the man where he stood, and even through the thick coat of beskar, the Mandalorian could sense this tension rising. You retreated into the side of your master, knowing if you did not hide your growingly agitated demeanor you would break the false formalities and blow your cover. His arm reaching out to cover you further, which made you feel admittedly protected and at ease, the Mandalorian denied the man’s request.

“This one is not for sharing. I’ve grown quite attached to the way her tongue works.”

The man laughed obnoxiously and you could feel Din’s amusement despite his facade. You boosted forward, but you were stopped suddenly by an arm of beskar holding you back. The helmeted Mando looked down at you with a warning you knew translated to behave.

“Oh, I understand, I understand. If you ever change your mind, you know where I’ll be.”

You passed by the bouncer, Din’s gloved hand on the curve of your back to guide you. His thumb brushed under the hem of your shirt as he knew you liked - an attempt to calm you, and in his way, apologize for the necessary disrespectful tone.

You made your way over to the bar, sitting next to each other in the rather uncomfortable high tops. The Mandalorian signaled for two drinks. Sipping from his, he whispered the apology.

“You know I had to say something.”

“I know you won’t be appreciating my tongue any time soon.”

Din leaned in closer to you, if it wasn’t for the helmet, you could have felt his hot breath on your neck.

“That’s fine. I’ll make it up to you with mine.”

You looked up at him before taking a drink to hide your fluster. The effect he had on you was immense and he knew it.

“Mandalorian,” A man approached, his presence alone expressing his distaste. “You made it. Please, come join me, and bring your-“

“slave, working off a debt to me,” Mando finished, a little too enthusiastically for your liking.

Din’s hand brushed your skin again as he lead you to the secluded table set for two.

“I apologize, I did not expect you to be traveling in a pair, but certainly she can-“

“Sit.” The Mandalorian finished his sentence while commanding you by motioning with his hand. You placed yourself across his lap, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“I like the way you think, Mandalorian.”

The man motioned for one of his women to come over. She took similar position to you.

The men talked, but you were focused on another game. Your hand trailed across the areas of his chest not protected with armor. Your fingers found there way to his shirt collar and pulled down slightly to expose the skin of his neck.

“My turn to play,” you whispered, low enough only he could hear you over the bustling establishment. He tensed and gripped your thigh as your lips connected. You left love bites, licking and sucking sensually as you moved along. His grip on your thigh became instantly painful as you began grinding against him, feeling him harden.

“I want you, Mando,” you teased. “I need you to fuck me good.”

Your hand slipped underneath the table, out of sight, and massaged him gently. He grew harder by the moment as you played with him. He dug his hands into your thighs harshly again - a warning you ignored. You reached for his hand and guided it inside of your pants.

“I’m so wet for you, Mando.”

His gloved fingers naturally moved their way around your folds, the harsh fabric hitting your clit in an unexpectedly pleasurable way. You continued to palm him, mimicking his motions.

“I need you so bad,” you moaned. “Please, daddy, fuck me.”

To your surprise and the man across the table, your Mandalorian stood, tossing you over his shoulder with ease.

“Excuse me,” he announced before making his way over to the bathroom of the establishment.

He locked the door behind him and immediately pinned you against the wall.

“Do you think you’re funny?”

“A little,” you replied. “What? Did you not like that?”

“I’m going to show you how much I liked that.”

“Don’t you have more important business to handle than fucking a slave in a bathroom?”

“No.”

He spun you around and pressed your face into the wall roughly. He jerked your pants down and brought himself to his knees. You could hear the clang of his helmet against the floor as he took it off and buried his face into you, his tongue playing with your folds before focusing on sucking your clit.

“You’re going to regret teasing me, little one.”

His hands rubbed your thighs and backside roughly, spreading you apart for easy access. Your moans filled the small space. You reached behind and ran your fingers through his curls, tugging at him as he picked up his pace. Your legs nearly buckled as he ate you like he hadn’t eaten in days.

As his mouth disconnected, you immediately felt the wind down in your stomach and disappointment wave over you. He stood, wrapping his arms around your frame and nuzzling his face in your neck before burying himself deep inside of you. You cried out as he pounded you, the pressure in your stomach building again, but this time harder. You covered your mouth with your hand, trying to silent your moans. He grabbed your hand and pulled it away.

“No, let them hear you. I want everyone to know you’re in here being fucked like the dirty little slut you are.”

His cock filled you harshly until it was pleasantly painful. You could not hold back your moans. His now ungloved hand reached around you to play with your clit, moving in circular motions. Your head fell back against his chest. You no longer cared about who heard you. You cried out as you inched closer and closer to finishing. Your legs began to shake.

“You didn’t think I’d let you come just like that, did you? After all you did out there?”

He pulled out and away from you all at once. You immediately felt the lack of his presence.

“Please,” you begged. “Please let me come. Please, daddy.”

The head of his cock pressed against your folds. He moved slowly, pressing it against your aching clit. You jerked back into him needing more. His hand connected with your ass with a sharp pain.

“Be a good girl now. Don’t you think you need to be punished?”

His hand connected with your ass again, and again, and again until the mere gentle touch of his hand hurt. He brought you away from the wall and moved you into all fours in the middle of the room. He grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled you back into him.

“Now, I want to hear you. If you hold your pretty sounds back, I’ll have to punish you again. Do you understand?”

You nodded as much as your head would allow.

“Yes, sir. Please, I need you.”

He filled you again, spreading you open as he pounded you. He pressed your face against the ground and nailed you so hard you were going numb. You moaned for him, not holding back. Each thrust sent you crying out again. His hand reached around, and played with your sore clit again. Instead of sensual circular motions, this time it was raw back and forth movement. You bucked away from him at the intensity, but he held you in place. You shook under him as you released, your walls clenching around his cock. He buried himself as deep inside of you as he could to fill you with his come. You both rode your orgasms together before he collapsed over you, both of you breathless and sore.

He sat back against the wall of the bathroom, pulling you into his chest. You were careful to keep your gaze down as you rested against him, your skin against the chest armor he was still wearing.

“Maybe next time you’ll think twice before teasing me,” he warned. He kissed your cheek sweetly and then kissed down your jaw. You looked forward, but appreciated the limited beauty you could see out of the corner of your eye, the way his sweaty hair fell into his face. You closed your eyes and turned your face to connect your lips with his. You brought your hands to his cheeks and his curls, taking full advantage of his helmet being removed.

“If it means you fucking me like that, you can call me your slave anytime, and I’ll happily tease you in public.”

He pressed his lips against yours again and you could feel his smile. He pulled your hands away from his face gently, which you knew meant he was returning the helmet.

“You can open your eyes, darling.”

You did. You were unable to suppress the ping of disappointment you felt in your chest as you stared into the blackened screen, but you hid it from him as you always did. You both stood, readjusting your clothing to look presentable again.

“Ready, love?” He asked, unlocking the door.

You walked toward him - or tried to walk toward him, despite the aching pain you felt with each step. His intoxicating laugh filled the room.

“Do you need help?”

“No,” you responded quickly. “Maybe.”

“If they didn’t know you were fucked good before, they will now.”

He picked you up bridal style, your arms wrapping around his neck. As you left the bathroom, you could feel the peering eyes on you and your Mandalorian. You buried your face into his neck, avoiding the stares as best you could.

“Can we please get out of here soon?” You muttered.

“Oh no, this is still part of your punishment, pretty girl. Let them look and imagine all the ways I fucked you.”

You returned to the table, sitting over his lap the same way you had before, but this time you knew better than you play your games.

“So,” the Mandalorian began. “Where were we?”

#the mandolarian #din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin one shot #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars one shot

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rabbitlover1027 · 3 years

Text

As mentioned before, I enjoy all the acotar ships. I found this prompt [Kiss it Better?] on a elriel post, therefore it's an Elriel story.

Elain has moved out on her own and finds it too quiet in apartment. Walking Velaris she thinks she might see a shadow moving.

Elain wondered what else was different in Velaris. Certainly back in the human lands she would not have been safe walking the streets after midnight, but here? Elain was pretty sure she could stay out until the sun came up and would still be safe. What else had she not learned staying with Feyre and Rhysand? Elain owed them for many things, but was still glad she moved out on her own. Her apartment was small and beautiful and clean. Nothing like the terrible one Nesta had, thank Gods.

Elain did not regret moving out, but sometimes her apartment felt too empty. At Feyre and Rhysand's there had always been someone to talk to. So tonight surrounded by the quiet, Elain grabbed her coat and slipped out. She passed late night diners and drunken couples giggling as they held hands. She watched as the lights of the Rainbow district bobbed on top of the Sidra's swirling currents. She listened as songs played and friends shouted parting words to each other.

Elain soaked in everything she saw. She was glad she had come out. Staring out at the water, she could swear she saw something flicker in the corner of her eye. Saw a shadow twist and then freeze. Perhaps there were things she had managed to learn about faerie life.

Elain waited, pretending she was still watching the water, but no other shadows moved. She decided she had been wrong. Azriel's shadows had not been watching her. Then she headed home.

She would never admit it, but Azriel was a part of the reason she insisted on getting her own place. His role within the court meant he was often at the river house for work. Elain could still feel the hot shame that engulfed her everytime he came to the house and refused to acknowledge her past a clipped hello. After the first few times he pointedly ignored her, she started staying in her room when she knew he was coming. She would stay there until she knew he was gone. In her own apartment, she was able to avoid his painful dismissal of her.

Her apartment building was only three stories tall, made of gray stone. The entrance was raised from the street, several steps high to a big windowed door underneath a single faelight. In the middle of the stairs was a thick metal railing Elain would drag her hand along whether she was going up or going down. She stood at the top of the stairs, under the light, her hand on the railing, and gazed back out over the street. She was happy here on her own. She liked this new little life she was slowing carving out for herself. She smiled.

“Hello, Elain.”

Startled and frightened, Elain pushed out in the direction of the voice. Her quick arms shoved the noise away from her as hard as she could. Whoever had said her name slipped past the first step and before they could catch their balance, hit the railing and tumbled down. They slumped to the sidewalk by the bottom step face down. Wings up. Sweet Mother, Azriel.

Elain rushed down the steps. She dropped to her knees and put a hand on his back, careful to avoid touching his wings. She was mad and relieved and worried too. Had she really just shoved Azriel down the stairs?

Azriel groaned, “Gods, Elain.”

“Azriel! What are you doing here?” Elain hissed at his ear. “You scared me!”

Azriel pushed his face off the ground. He shook his head.

“My shadows saw you by the river. I was waiting to make sure you got home safely. You weren't going inside, I thought I would say hi instead of lurking in dark.” He moved so he sitting, facing her.

She looked at him and sucked in a breath. Before she had time to think about it, she had slipped her hand on to his cheek. She caught herself, embarrassed, right before she slid her thumb over his lips.

“I’m sorry. Your face, it’s scratched. The corner of your mouth. I'm sorry.” Elain wasn't certain if she was sorry her push had caused the scratch or if she was sorry for touching him, for trying to soothe his broken skin. Azriel's hand was on hers before she could pull away from his face.

“Elain.”

“I was scared. You scared me. I'm sorry,” she babbled. Elain couldn't look at him anymore. She had tried so hard move on from whatever it was that had happened between them and not even five minutes into seeing him she was curled up practically knee to knee with him on the ground and she'd touched his face. Almost ran her thumb across his lip. She tried to pull her hand back to her lap, away from him, but Azriel tightened his grip holding her hand against his face.

“Elain,” he repeated, teased. She met his eyes. Stopped tugging her hand towards her lap. He squeezed her fingers softly.

“Yes?”

Azriel's eyes sparkled a little. The non scratched corner of his mouth went up in mischievous grin. “You could…” he trailed off, but was still grinning wickedly at her. There was none of the Azriel she'd seen since Winter Solstice, this was the Azriel who had made her smile, made her stare a little too long, made her start to think what ifs.

“I could what?” she leveled back.

“Kiss it better?” he dared.

She cocked her head at him in disbelief. She had spent sleepless nights reliving the sharp pain in her chest when he stepped back and told her everything was a mistake. And now here he was daring her to kiss him. It fueled a small anger in her, if Azriel wanted to show up in the middle of the night and play games, then she would rise and meet him. Beat him.

Breaking his gaze, she leaned forward and gently pressed her mouth to the corner of his. Everything she refused to let herself think about anymore roared up to surface at the contact. Any thought of playing games was gone. Her eyes still closed, she rested her forehead to his. Breathed him in.

“Elain.” His voice was softer than she'd ever heard it. His other hand twisted thru her hair and he turned, meeting her lips.

Azriel kissed her softly. Then he hesitated and Elain realized he waiting on her. Waiting to see if she wanted this. And she did.

Elain leaned into Azriel even more, and she met his mouth with hers. Nipped his lower lip playfully between her teeth before he ran his tongue over her lip. She met his mouth over and over.

Azriel let go of her hand and and wrapped her up with his arm, pulling them closer. She could feel the warmth from his body seeping into hers. Felt his fingers dig deeper into her back when she loosed a small moan.

Azriel lifted her, moved her til she was tilted back, propped up by his arm behind her. The fingers in her hair traced down her neck, traced her collar bone thru the open top of her coat. Elain found her free hand wrapping over Azriel's shoulder, pulling him down to her mouth. She wanted more of his mouth on hers, more of his body on hers. She felt the flush of her cheeks when he moved his mouth to her neck and then his hand was inside her coat running down her side. He stopped his hand on her hip, and she could feel as the sensation inside her continued without his hand down to her core.

Elain curled up towards Azriel, started to tip her head backwards more to offer more of her neck to him, and the back of her head tapped lightly against something hard. She opened her eyes. The stars above startled her. Azriel had her wrapped up, his arm shielding her back from the sharp stone edge of the stairs to her apartment. She pressed a warning hand hard into his chest, pushed him back to make him look at her.

“We're on the sidewalk,” she offered weakly. She could see his chest moving in the night. She scrambled up, cursed her shaky legs, and clutched the railing of the steps for support. Azriel stood up beside her, closer than he ever did in the daylight of Rhysand's many houses. He reached up and pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. She traced her thumb over his mouth, where the skin already healed from its scratch with the magic fae had in them.

She looked to the door to her building and back to Azriel. She bit her lip. Shook the hair that had no doubt splayed across the steps moments before.

“I don't really know what I’m doing.” she confessed.

“It’s ok,” Azriel was looking at her like she was the most beautiful thing in the world. “If you're not too tired, I know a place where we can still get a cup of tea.”

Elain nodded, smiling shyly, and Azriel pulled her hand around his arm. She leaned into the warmth of him so close beside her and found a little part of her thrilled when he didn't pull away, when he responded by placing a hand on top of hers and then lead her past her block back out into the night.

#acotar #elriel #elain archeron #Azriel #a court of thorns and roses #but damn i love azriel #azriel the spymaster #pro whoever elain wants #pro whoever azriel wants #regardless of how you feel about elucien there is never enough lucien #this fanfic was harder than i thought it would be

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xoluvx · 3 years

Text

photographs pt. 1; t.holland

(𝐠𝐢𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭)

idea: reader is a photographer n can’t stop staring, flirting ensues and reader slyly goes “maybe you should be the one taking photos, it’ll last longer than your staring” note: When I tell you I read this and my heart just burst because who wouldn’t stare? Ugh thank you @moonflowcrr

Pairing: Tom x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1.7K

“If you can just tilt your head a bit,” you spoke as you watched him through the lens. He shifted his body on the couch, tilting his head as you’d instructed. His movements were fluid, eyes never leaving the camera.

Snapping photos, you watched his brows furrow still maintaining a softness that pierced through the lens.

“Great,” you whispered loud enough for him to hear. “Try something like this.” Moving the camera from your face, you ran your index finger along your lips. He nodded following your lead. His eyebrows relaxed after a few shots and he moved his fingers over his lips gently once again. Gulping, you stopped clicking on your camera focusing on his jawline. It clenched as he brushed his lips softly. The room suddenly felt small, your eyes hyper focused on his facial features.

He was mesmerizing.

“You okay, love?” he asked fixing his coat, focusing on your face behind the lens. He was so smooth. The words just rolling off his tongue like calling you ‘love’ was something he did often. You’d just met him.

Peeking from behind the camera, you nodded quickly clearing your throat while moving away from him. You were embarrassed to say the least.

Were you that obvious?

“Just going to get a few more shots and I can show you,” you said bringing the camera back to your face. Secretly, you couldn’t help but trace every centimeter of his face trailing down to his hands resting gently on his chest. His brows back to its furrowed state, pulling you in.

Not realizing you were physically moving closer to him, you felt your knee brush against his. Your body went rigid before stepping back like you’d just touched fire.

“That was a good one,” you heard someone who was behind the monitor call out. “Get a few more like that,” they contributed to the creative and you had to please the client. Even though your heart was beating rapidly.

You hovered over his body with your camera watching him shift his hips in the slightest, thrusting the air as his chest rose gently. Gulping, you felt your hands getting sweaty as you held the camera. Your leg brushed against his, the touch burning through your jeans.

“I think we’ve got it,” you heard the same person from before say. “Come take a look.”

Moving back, in the rush of the moment and your foggy mind, you stumbled. Tom’s reflexes were quick, his fingers curled around your arm preventing you from hitting the ground. That would’ve been embarrassing.

Your heart was beating quickly. Not only did you stumble in front of him, but he was holding your arm and you felt like you were going to melt.

Thankfully, your camera was okay. At least that’s what you tried to focus on to distract from the whole ordeal. Rather than focusing on how rapidly your heart was beating. So quickly it felt like it was going to jump out of your chest. His fingers still curled around your arm.

“You alright, darling?” His voice brought you a strange comfort and you nodded quickly clearing your throat. Darling. You could practically melt in his arms.

“Thanks. Come, I’ll show you some of the photos.” You led him to the monitor that was set up nearby. Taking your place in front of the monitor, you scrolled through the shots as Tom looked over you at the screen. His arms were crossed, a focused look on his face.

You were scrolling aimlessly, you hadn’t noticed he was no longer looking at the screen. His eyes were fixated on you. He watched the way your lips pouted slightly while you concentrated moving between two similar photos before choosing the best one. He noticed the way your brows relaxed when you made your decision. A look of gratification on your face.

“What do you think?” You asked crossing your arms stepping back looking at the photos you selected.

Clearing his throat, Tom unraveled his arms playing with his collar to divert from the fact that he’d been staring at you. Memorizing every bit of your face.

Inside, your heart was beating rapidly. Outside, you smirked.

“Maybe you should be the one to take a photo, it’ll last longer.” You remarked with a glint in your eye and a playful smile on your face.

“Funny,” Tom blushed, chucking softly, looking at the photo on the screen, hoping you wouldn’t see how flustered you made him.

But you saw. You’d memorized every inch of his face as you stared from behind the lens of your camera. He was ingrained in your memory.

“I don’t mean to be too forward, but you want to grab lunch?” His words were certain, his voice confident as he glanced at you. He regained his composure, taking charge of the moment once again. He had you back in the palm of his hand. It was your turn to be flushed.

“Sure,” you almost whispered. Your voice betraying you as it cracked.

“Now?” his brows raised turning to you completely.

“You should probably get out of these clothes first,” you hummed playfully tugging at the coat. “I think you’re overdressed,” you added looking down at your jeans and t-shirt.

His laugh rung in your ears, making your chest warm.

“Do you like it?” Tom asked as he swallowed his bite lifting the sandwich in his hands. You couldn’t help, but laugh lifting your sandwich approvingly.

“Can’t go wrong with a sandwich. Solid,” you made an ‘okay’ signal with your hand taking a bite. This time, Tom laughed watching you struggled with a piece of lettuce. The messy bite leaving a bit of mayo on the corner of your mouth.

Without thinking, Tom dove in brushing away the mayo with his index finger before cleaning his finger on a napkin. The moment intimate, neither of you thinking twice about the exchange.

You felt his thigh brush against yours as the two of you sat on the steps of his trailer. The sandwiches that were delivered for the crew cradled in your hands as you both continued eating comfortably.

•

“Are you still texting that boy?” your friend’s eyes traveled to your pinging phone which was resting face down on the table. You were having brunch at her house and your phone was glued to your side. A string of text messages were setting off your notifications.

“Um yeah,” you chuckled biting the inside of your cheek. Your fingers grazed over your phone wanting so bad to look at the text messages, but out of respect you didn’t. She watched your fingers tap on the back of your phone impatiently.

“Just check,” she rolled her eyes playfully as you turned the phone looking at the text messages. You couldn’t control the muscles in your face, they instantly pulled your lips into a smile. Your cheeks hurt from how hard you were trying not to be obvious.

“Who is he that you’re so obsessed?” your friend looked at you with wonder.

“Just a guy I met at a photo shoot. I probably shouldn’t even be talking to him. It’s unprofessional. Do you think?” you looked at her searching for answers that she didn’t have. But upon seeing your helpless face, her gaze softened and she shrugged her shoulders.

“I don’t see what’s wrong with it,” she smiled. “Now tell me more.” She beamed resting her chin on her hands as she leaned over her plate.

•

“Oh wait there,” you exclaimed pulling your phone out of your pocket crouching down to take a photo of Tom who was swinging a mini-golf club. “That’s the shot,” you whispered as his face brightened coming towards you. His body getting bigger in the frame as he came near. His hand reaching towards you.

You took his hand as he lifted you from where you were couching.

“Does everything have to be a photo with you?” he asked jokingly wrapping an arm around your shoulder as you looked at the images in your phone.

“I am a photographer,” you remarked looking up at him with a ‘what do you expect’ look. He chuckled as his lips brushed against your head, his eyes focusing on the images that you were scrolling through. “I like that one,” he stated pointing at the one where he was looking into the distance, the mini-golf club swinging giving the photo movement.

“The model could use some work, but the lighting-” you laughed feeling Tom squeeze you gently before wrapping his arms around you completely.

“I could teach you real golf,” he whispered kissing the top of your head. Your fingers were spread across his back, your phone clinging to his back as you felt your cheeks burn.

“Mini-golf is fun,” you smirked clearing your throat. The moment getting too intimate, you tried deflecting.

“Ouch.” He touched his chest furrowing his brows playfully. “Golf is fun too.”

“Yeah, if you’re a sixty year-old man.” You teased getting ready to hit the golf ball. Tom chuckled watching the ball navigate through the funky golf course.

He was captivated. And he was falling hard.

•

“Don’t move,” Tom instructed pulling out his phone. Your dinner had just been brought out and it was sprawled around you like a feast. Tom leaned back enough to capture the food and your face in photo. A shy smile spread across your face as you placed your hands under your chin making it silly.

“Perfect,” Tom chuckled. It’d become a thing. Your life capture in photos. At unexpected times. Set up or not, your phone was full of memories.

“Are you still able to do the shoot tomorrow?” Tom asked reaching for fork as he dug into his food. With your mouth full, you nodded giving him a thumbs up.

“Perks of dating a photographer,” he chuckled as you raised your eyes.

“I’m the one dating the movie star,” you laughed. “I think your job is cooler.”

Tom shrugged. “I met you, so I guess it’s not that bad.”

The statement made your heart flutter and you stopped mid bite to look at him. He was focused on his food, but the comment floated between the two of you. Offering you both a familiar comfort.

PART TWO

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff

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rowan-underthehouse · 3 years

Text

Backseat Driving

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Ruby/Sam Winchester

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 3547

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, mild sexual content, language

Additional Tags: mostly comedy with a few more serious moments, relationship reveal

Summary:

Sam and Dean Winchester have done a remarkable job of keeping their relationships with things they should probably be hunting a secret from each other. That is, until now.

Read it on Ao3 here

Sam never thought he’d live to say it, but he should probably be more grateful his brother is alive.

In a grander sense, he’s thrilled. He would have given everything for this in a heartbeat. Hell, he tried to give everything for this. All he wishes is that there was a way around the guilt.

It had become white noise when Dean was in the pit, horrible and endless, but it could be drowned out. He could convince himself that Dean would have wanted this if he could have seen the whole picture. Now it comes in waves. One moment he’s fine, the next he can barely keep his head above the water.

Sam is lacing his boots, trying to be as silent as possible when it hits him tonight. Dean willingly went to an eternity of torture for Sam’s sake, and Sam couldn’t even honour his dying wish. It’s harder to justify with his brother sleeping curled on his stomach a few feet away. Harder to ignore.

It’s ridiculous, shoving pillows under his quilt like some teenager sneaking out the back door with a bottle of Jack, but if he can’t keep his promise, at least he can try to keep Dean from worrying.

He quietly drops the impala’s keys into his pocket, and slips out into the night.

…

It’s hellhounds that wake Dean tonight, tearing at his chest and leaving shredded ribbons of flesh. He can’t move. Can’t fight or even look down. He just lays there, feeling the wet warmth of blood soaking into his clothes, catching glimpses of enormous slobbering heads, gasping for the breath that barely makes its way into his lungs.

He bolts upright, only making it halfway to the knife beneath his pillow before his brain lurches into the dark and empty motel room a few seconds after the rest of his body. He goes for fistfuls of his hair instead, tugging until it hurts and digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. His jaw aches, teeth having been clenched for far too long.

It’s another stupid fucking nightmare. That’s all it is. Dean just needs to fight through the relentless exhaustion still weighing him down and get his feet on the floor. Get some water or just stretch and try to reset his brain for any chance at a few hours of good sleep. But there’s a dog howling in the room next door and his eyes are so sticky with tears they almost burn and he can’t make his legs listen to his brain and kick off the covers.

“Shit.”

He doesn’t notice the telltale flutter of feathers, just the sudden steady pressure of Cas’ hand on his shoulder. Dean startles hard, sucking in a breath as he whips around.

“Cas.” A tiny bit of the tension drains from Dean’s body. “Did I,” he clears his throat, reaching for some dignity. “Did I call for you again?”

Cas smiles softly, setting a hand on Dean’s sternum, easing the crushing of his lungs, brushes knuckles against Dean’s jaw and saps out the tension. Maybe it’s a waste of his grace, but Cas always refuses to hear it.

“In a way. I sensed your longing.”

It sounds fucking pathetic, but Dean can’t bring himself to care. He’s too tired for the usual embarrassment that would come with grabbing fistfuls of Cas’s coat with trembling hands, and tugging him lightly toward the bed. Cas doesn’t need convincing.

Cas runs a hand through Dean’s hair and presses a kiss to the top of his head. He pulls back just long enough to drop his overcoat to the floor and kick off his shoes. Dean barely has time to register the loss of contact before Cas is straightening out the sheets, easing him out of his sweat soaked overshirt and jeans. He climbs under the covers and tangles his legs with Dean’s as easily as if it was breathing. Like they’re meant to hold each other this way. He pulls Dean tight to his chest, kneading his fingers into the tension in Dean’s shoulder blades, and Dean melts into him.

The battle against the bone-deep exhaustion dragging Dean back toward sleep is quickly becoming uphill. He presses his face into the fabric of Cas’ shirt.

“It’s alright, Dean. Rest. I have you.”

And Dean gives up the fight.

…

Maybe it’s hard-wired into demons for the sake of all their contracts, or maybe Ruby really wants to see what will happen next, but Sam doubts her constant punctuality is a courtesy.

She’s waiting on the corner of Oak and 19th when Sam pulls up, exactly where she said she’d be, jacket pulled tight across her chest to fend off the night chill.

Sam opens the door and she slides into the passenger seat.

“I was starting to think you wouldn’t show.”

Sam keeps his eyes on the dash. “Yeah. Well, I’m here now.”

Ruby catches his arm on its way to the ignition, finally managing to meet his eyes, her tone more gentle.

“You can’t listen to him, Sam. You’re stronger than your brother. He wouldn’t understand. He’d ruin everything we’ve worked for. It’s too important. We can’t let him get in the way.”

Sam sighs deeply. “I know.”

“You’re doing the right thing, Sam. This is the only way.”

“I know.”

Ruby relaxes her grip on Sam, easing back into the passenger seat as if nothing had happened.

“I would kill for some French fries. We can go to that restaurant and try to pick up Lilith’s trail. We’ll have to make sure you’re strong enough for tonight…”

She slips out her pocket knife, casually drawing the flat edge across her bicep, like a fidget instead of the open invitation Sam knows it is.

“…help you unwind.”

Sam steps on the gas.

…

Dean doesn’t sleep for more than an hour, waking up with Cas still relaxed beside him, eyes closed. If Dean didn’t know better, he’d think the angel was asleep. One big hand is splayed over Dean’s hip, thumb dipping just below the waistband of his worn boxers.

It’s driving Dean crazy.

It would be so easy to shift Cas’ hand to where he needs it. He’d just have to roll over. Maybe it would seem too desperate, but, fuck, Dean is desperate. It’s been weeks since they’ve had time for this and he’s passed one too many long drives thinking about Cas’ mouth on him.

Instead, he scoots closer, untucking Cas’s shirt to get to warm skin and toned abs. He presses a kiss into Cas’s collar bone, his neck, the underside of his jaw before finally pulling back to see his face. Cas’ eyes are open, pupils blown wide as he watches Dean. The grip on Dean’s hip tightens.

In one fluid movement, Dean repositions to kiss Cas more solidly, just about blacking out for a second when Cas matches his enthusiasm.

“Want you,” Cas gasps out between kisses.

His voice alone is almost enough for Dean. He closes his eyes again, trying to compose himself. “Yeah. Yeah, alright baby. Hold on.”

Cas frowns when Dean pulls back, obviously confused, until Dean props himself up and rolls to straddle Cas’ hips. It’s a process to get his shirt unbuttoned and off, Dean still kissing him like the world is ending much faster than it is, and Cas no more eager to pull away.

Dean finally sits back into Cas’ lap, taking a moment to catch his breath. He trails a hand down Cas’ chest, making him shiver.

“Fuck, sweetheart, look at you.” Dean loves seeing Cas like this, his face so open and happy. And because of Dean. It’s hard to wrap his head around. Dean traces along the smile forming on Cas’ lips, beaming when Cas presses a kiss into the pad of his thumb. He could get used to this.

Dean is leaning down to kiss him again when he loses his balance. He doesn’t fully understand what’s happening until his back hits the mattress, hands gently pinned above his head. It might be the hottest thing Dean has ever experienced. He barely stifles a moan as Cas shifts his weight on top of him.

At that exact moment, Dean remembers his brother, still tucked under his quilt in the adjacent bed.

“We should take this somewhere else.”

Cas nods, a strand of already disheveled hair falling into his face, and then Dean’s back hits the familiar cold leather of the impala’s back seat.

Arms unpinned, he sets to work on Cas’ belt, finally letting out the soft moan that’s been building at the back of his throat.

“Cas? DEAN!?” Dean doesn’t need to look to recognize Sam’s voice coming from the driver’s seat. “What the hell!”

…

Like so many other cars, the impala has a big, slightly scratchy blanket that lives in the back seat. The only difference is that this one has been replaced a good dozen times when there was too much blood to just wash out. The current car blanket is an almost new, grey number, which is, as it turns out, just big enough to wrap Dean in his relative state of undress like a very angry burrito.

He sits in the backseat, scowling at Sam through the rearview mirror. To Sam’s right, Ruby is looking only slightly less unimpressed.

Sam tries to enjoy the last few seconds of silence.

Ten…nine…eight…

“So it’s not bad enough to work with a demon, now you’re sleeping with her too?”

“Dean…”

“Don’t ‘Dean’ me! What the hell do you think you’re doing, man? How long have you been…been fraternizing with the enemy!”

Sam is living proof that no matter how hard you roll your eyes, they won’t get stuck.

“She’s not ‘the enemy’, and you don’t have much of a leg to stand on here, Dean. Do you really think it’s a good idea to get dicked down by an angel?”

Dean opens his mouth like there’s actually an excuse he could use here. No words come out. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Never say ‘dicked down’ to me again.”

Sam’s gained a bit of ground, and he refuses to lose it now.

He finally adjusts the mirror to get a good look at Castiel. He sits next to Dean, all shirtless and messy haired, but somehow the same stoic warrior Sam has always known save for the way he stares out the window like if he’s still enough they’ll forget he’s there.

It doesn’t take Dean long to deflect. “How long has this been going on behind my back?”

“You were dead, Dean! There wasn’t exactly a back to go behind.”

Ruby, who had apparently decided to let the brothers sort out their own argument, finally whirls around in her seat.

“He’s a big boy. He can make his own decisions.”

“Ruby-“ Sam wonders if it’s too late to launch himself out of the car.

“Apparently he can’t!” Dean half yells. “I’m dead for four months and the guy goes and hooks up with a demon! What if you knock her up Sam, did you ever think about that?”

Sam doesn’t have time to interject.

“And in my car ! Please tell me none of this happened in my car!”

Sam decides it’s best to say nothing at all.

“No.” Dean puts his head in his hands, ever the dramatic. “No! I’m going to have to deep-clean everything in here! No, you’re going to deep-clean everything.” He jabs an accusatory finger in Sam’s direction.

This was bound to come out eventually. Sam had hoped it would be many, many months down the line, over a beer, after he had defeated Lilith and saved the day. A little more congratulating and a little less half-naked Dean in the back seat. Now the best he can hope for is a chance at damage control. He turns to Ruby, who seems to be trying to glare Cas to death before he can do the same to her. That explains why they’ve been so quiet.

“Look, can you give us a minute, guys? It might be better for Dean and I to talk this out alo-“

Cas is gone before Sam can even finish his sentence. It almost feels too easy.

“Ruby?”

She hesitates, looking from Sam, to Dean, and back again.

“Alright, fine.” Her voice is seething with anger. “If your brother doesn’t trust me after everything I’ve sacrificed for you then I’ll just get out of the way. Enjoy your talk.”

Sam pulls over at the nearest gas station, getting one last icey look from Ruby before she opens the door.

“Lilith has been here.” A deep voice from the backseat makes Sam jump.

Cas has returned to his seat, now fully dressed, his brow pinched together.

“A town called High River 60 miles North.”

…

There have been a lot of awkward drives in the years Dean has spent hunting with his brother, but this might be the worst. He actually feels a flood of relief when the car rolls to a stop in a parking lot dimly lit by flickering lights.

The building in front of them appears to be a diner. It must be called Hal’s or Val’s or something, but after one too many seasons of snow, the sign reads A L’S I ER in washed out glowing red. The musty air reaches Dean a good twenty paces away when Sam cracks the door open and peers inside.

Sam signals behind him, and Ruby is slipping in the door before Dean can make a move.

“Just…wait here a minute. We’ve got it covered.”

“And let you go off with the demon chick and do whatever it is the two of you do when you aren’t defiling my car? I don’t think so.”

Dean starts after him, Cas stopping him by the arm. Dean doesn’t pull away. His heart does a tiny little flutter right out of a dimestore novel. It's embarrassing.

He gives Cas a once over, taking in the usual outfit, and then his own faded t-shirt and boxers. “Come on, man. You couldn’t have thought to grab me a pair of jeans?”

Cas’ face goes faintly red in the flickering light. He seriously considers something for a moment.

“I could go now, but it might be best for me to remain here.” He shoots a glance after Sam and Ruby.

“Forget it.” Dean grumbles.

Cas tilts his head to meet Dean’s eyes where he’s turned away. The grip on his arm goes from restraining to affectionate.

“You’re not angry with me. You’re embarrassed. And you’re scared that now this is out in the open something bad will happen.”

Dean scoffs “It’s not out in the-“

Cas moves a hand up to cup his face smiling gently. Reassuring.

Dean says nothing. Just covers Cas’ hand with his own and leans into it, closing his eyes.

…

When Sam peaks back out the diner door, Dean is waiting for him with his arms, and Castiel’s coat crossed across his chest like a disapproving sit-com mother.

“It’s all clear. Just one demon in there. We’ve got him tied up.”

“Wow, gee, great, Sammy. Did you gift wrap him for me too?” Dean calls back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

There goes the damage control. Sam sighs. At least the lying is over, even if it does come with the uniquely uncomfortable knowledge of why Dean’s grocery runs have been taking so long. Well… some of the lying is over. And he’s not lying to Dean about his powers exactly. Just strategically omitting details.

He pushes the door all the way open and leaves Dean to come in when he’s done sulking.

Maybe Dean is going to spend the rest of the night in You-did-something-I-don’t-like-so-now-I’m-going-to-be-as-miserable-as-possible mode, but Sam has to give him credit, he knows how to get a job done. When Dean marches up to the half-rotten chair the demon is tied to, it’s pretty intimidating.

The demon smirks up at Dean, not even struggling against the ropes bound over his grease-stained apron. He must have been the cook.

“Nice coat. Do you always dress like this for a hunt?”

Dean ignores him.

“What’s your name?”

Sam has stayed back behind his brother, half-bathed in shadow, and fixed his glare on the demon. If he’s heard anything from the others he’ll know it’s time to start talking.

“Does it matter?”

Shit. This isn’t going to be as easy as Sam had hoped. Apparently his reputation only precedes him so far.

Dean sets a hand on the back of the demon’s chair and leans in. “Alright. Let’s just cut the small talk then. Why was Lilith here?”

“Looks like you made it out of the pit, that’s a real shame, Winchester.” It’s subtle, but Sam sees Dean tense. Cas takes half a step forward. “Heard you were a real prodigy. Think you can get me to talk?”

Dean leans closer, pulling Ruby’s knife from the pocket of his…well…Cas’ coat. With a start, Sam realizes he had almost forgotten about the thing.

“Actually, I think I can.” He sneers.

At some point, Sam knows he’ll have to step in. He’ll have to bite the bullet and show Dean what he’s capable of. Pray he understands that it’s the only option. But Sam’s prayers have sat unanswered in some heavenly mail box long enough to collect their weight in dust. No. He’s going to make Dean understand.

He ignores Ruby’s warning look, closes his eyes and focuses on his breath, tugs on the dark thing deep inside him until he can feel it all the way to his fingertips, buzzing with power. He raises his hand. The squeezing starts to build inside his skull, like he’s standing on the roof of a plane with an unholy sinus infection. The demon’s voice barely cuts through it.

“Exorcise me if you want but Sebastian here has taken quite a beating. I leave, he dies.”

Sam lets his arm drop to his side, shrugging off the confused look Dean gives him. They’re going to have to do this the old-fashioned way.

“What was Lilith doing here?” Ruby pipes up.

The demon possessing Sebastian chuckles. “That’s above my pay grade, sweetheart. I thought you’d know that.”

It’s Dean’s turn again. “You can lie all you want, but we’re going to find out about it one way or another. Let’s do this the easy way. Give her up now. Working with a demon like that is only going to cause you problems.”

Not-Sebastian looks confused.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Well if he’s lying for her, maybe there’s a good reason, Dean! He knows how you’d react if he told the truth! He’s not some kid you need to protect anymore!”

Dean spins around. “Oh, so this is my fault?”

“You’re doing the exact same thing! You only think you’re better because he’s an angel and you can’t accept that this isn’t as black and white as it seems!”

Not-Sebastian looks incredulously between them. “Am I interrupting something?”

It’s remarkable how fast Dean wipes the embarrassed look off his face and turns back around. “What did Lilith tell you?”

“Nothing. Just doing her annual press tour.”

Castiel chooses that moment to step in. “He’s telling the truth. He does know anything.” Before he can speak, Cas slaps a hand onto Not-Sebastian’s head, not flinching when a blinding light pours out of his eyes. The demon slumps in his chair. “It could be a trap. We aren’t prepared for Lilith to bring the fight to us. We need to leave.”

And just like that it’s over. Sam doesn’t bother trying to talk to Dean again. He avoids Ruby’s glare from the back of the room, glancing between the scorched eyes of Not-Sebastian and Castiel. She brushes past him on her way out the door and down the street. There will definitely be complaints later. For now, she leaves the impala behind her, not wanting to follow Not-Sebastian.

He can barely make out Dean’s voice from inside the diner.

“Think the health inspector must have missed this place. Maybe they barbecued him up Whistlestop Café style.” A long stretch of silence. “It was a joke, man.”

Sam finally breaks the silence halfway through the drive. Why Dean let him drive again is beyond Sam, but it’s good to have his hands on the wheel and his mind on the road. Even with the welcome distraction, he can only last so long. “Can we just talk about this in the morning?”

Dean sighs. He looks exhausted, the bags under his eyes easier to see when he’s not dedicating every moment to hiding them. “Fine. But we’re talking about it.”

“Deal.”

The quiet is softer after that, underscored by faint music from the radio. It doesn’t take Dean long to slump into Cas’ shoulder, asleep faster than Sam has ever seen, maybe because of the protective arm Cas has tucked around his waist. Dean seems gentler like this. Almost happy. It brings a smile to Sam’s face.

Sure things are messy, but they’re the Winchester’s. He expects nothing less. And maybe if things work out for Dean, if he can actually be happy like this, it will be okay for Sam too.

#spn #destiel #supernatural #deancas #samruby #spn fic #supernatural fic #destiel fic #deancas fic #samruby fic #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #spn fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #my writing #fanfic

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commanderserwin · 3 years

Text

morning view.

✧ characters. levi ackerman x reader

✧ summary. bedsharing trope with angst and some sprinkles of fluff if you squint a little ♡ is this even bedsharing ???

“because those girls thought we are still together, and we always sleep together in tents so they counted us as one.”

✧ notes. super self-indulgent bedsharing fic ♡ inspired by this song b/c it’s an ultimate favorite of mine. and also because i love bedsharing fics that’s all

it has been three months and it was a mutual decision.

everyday with him always ended with a sour mood, a sad face, a frown, a scowl, sleeping angry with the two of you laying down with the biggest distance between your bodies. angry, angry, and horrible and both of you knew.

so after a year— comes the break-up and it was exactly what you two needed.

but who ever thought of teaching these new recruits how to count? how could they not count properly as it goes easily from one to ten? it was taught in training, maybe in early education, or from their father or mother over a dining table, but it was easy.

one, two, three.

"what do you mean there isn't a spare tent?"

the young recruit shuddered under your eyes. she tried to smile, but it made her look constipated and she only shook her head. the other young girl beside her looked equally hopeless, probably beating themselves up for not counting properly.

"well?" you pushed, offering a hand as you looked at their wagon.

it was empty, mockingly empty.

the night's getting close and by whatever this trial is of sleeping outside the comfort of the warm headquarters to teach these young ones how to survive the outside, and yet here you are, already dying because they have no spare tent.

"we thought..."

"thought what?"

"we counted..."

"counted?!"

"we counted you and captain levi as one, because you two are together, and you always shared tents with him! but we didn't know that you broke up with him, and we only knew about it now. so we have no spare tents because we thought you would be sleeping with the captain!"

the girl blinked before you while the other panted for air as she spat out her quick spiel for not having a spare tent.

the wind has been getting colder, and before you could sleep with only a coat over your body but now... the wind made your toes curl and made your whole body shiver.

you turned behind you, instantly looking at him who was helping the others set up their own tent. he commanded the others to help and proceed to set up their own before it gets too dark and cold to do so. you whipped your head back towards the girls, sighing deeply because you wanted to be angry but there was no reason to because... it's there already, can't be fixed.

but it can be fixed and it involves with you kneeling down and asking for a spot beside him because you are not about to sleep outside in the cold.

the girls gulped under your look, and you pointed at yourself for holding on to their words. they look alarmed as you inched closer, "i didn't break up with him. we both wanted to break up, you got it?"

the wind blew over your whole body as you stomped towards where the supposed tent is. his back was turned on you as he hammered the nail deeper into the ground— fully knowing that you were behind him.

you cleared your throat, tightening your arms across your chest as you rocked your foot gently, looking up because you aren't ready to meet his smug face.

but he didn't turn around. he kept hammering the nail down even when it was perfect already. he moved his head to the side to hear you clear your throat again, and again, until you couldn't take it.

"levi."

"what."

levi brushed the grass off of his trousers as he raised to his feet. he dropped the hammer back on to the grass as he crossed his arms. he watched you pinch your arm in an attempt to calm yourself— to ask him, for something he knows that you will ask.

"can i sleep with you?"

he arched a brow, waiting for more.

oh, his smug face, you thought.

no matter how impassive he stared, you knew that underneath all that he is smiling widely and is enjoying this— which he was.

"please?" you pushed, hauling your bag to the side of his tent.

levi didn't answer because he wanted to hear more. for three months, he waited for you to come up to him with something, even when he found himself hiding away. this was just an oppurtunity to fix that was long broken before it even started— but he's just enjoying, enjoying, this sweet, stubborn begging from you.

"please?"

"fine," levi answered, and you immediately crouched down to be inside the tent. he shook his head, bending down slightly to pop his head inside, "but why?"

it made you angry again.

"because those girls thought we are still together, and we always sleep together in tents so they counted us as one."

levi clicked his tongue as you whipped your head towards him, eyes ablazed as you looked at him. his grey eyes inspected the small tent, wondering how the two of you could fit now with the smallest distance in that tent. he was about to comment on not to take the left side because that was closest to the opening and his spot, but he kept his mouth shut as you instinctually went back to your things, moving them to the right like you always do.

he left without a word, hearing you mutter to yourself as you cursed this whole situation.

levi roamed around the few tents and being in charge, he barked gentle orders to the new recruits as they settled inside their own tents after their dinner. he didn't see you anywhere after the dinner, didn't even mingle with the others as you usually would do, so he gave a few extra minutes before he went inside his tent where he figured you would be in already.

and he was right. because there you were, cramped and kneeling down in the tent, as you tried to unclasp the stiff leather harnesses around your chest and back to get a more comfortable sleep.

levi turned his back, removing his jacket as he folded it into the side. he turned his head once more, watching your fingers fiddled with the hard material as he busied himself with the boots, placing them beside yours. he turned to his cravat as he folded them inside his jacket— and you were still busy with the harnesses.

“you can ask for help,” levi hinted, unbuttoning his shirt at the collar, turning his head towards you.

“i don’t need your help,” you snarled, tugging on your leathers on the chest and back, hoping to find some success but to no avail.

he sighed quietly, kneeling down beside you, swatting your hands away from your back. he tugged harder, hearing you groan embarrassingly as he worked his way out of your leathers, helping you successfully untangle yourself. you moved your head to the side, eyeing his work but he didn't stop there, because he helped you untangle the ones over your thighs and legs.

"thank you," you murmured, accepting your harnesses as you fixed them up beside his clothes.

levi only grunted in return as he began with his own effortlessly, while you crawled into the sleeping pad, settling on the furthest right as you laid down stiff as a log.

the sweet, soft patch of grass was as perfect as the sleeping pad and you fought yourself not to yawn and close your eyes as you didn’t want to disrupt whatever levi needs to do with the candles on. but levi made it impossible when he blew on one candle, dimming the light in the tent as he proceeded to fix his side and clothes.

the small things with him and it has you melting into sleep already. levi caught on your surpressed yawn, quieting his movements to make room for you to rest after an exhausting day. after that, he crawled beside you with his back on you, settling down and shying just an inch away from each other.

you have no idea how long you have been asleep. the darkness engulfed your eyes, and it took a while adjusting. you blinked a couple more, your mind slowly waking up to the slightest movement beside you as you draped an arm around the space beside you. it was automatic in your mind to look for him, feel for him when you wake up without him beside you.

"levi?" you croaked, hand blindly patting his side, until you feel his seated figure in the dark before you. you tugged on his shirt, just to feel him— just to know if he was there and he softly leaned on your hand. "levi?"

"go back to sleep," levi murmured in the dark, his head turning to where you were even when he could only see your silhouette.

"hmmm," you hummed, turning your body to the side to curl up a little. you dropped your hand from his back, tucking it underneath your cheek as you closed your eyes. you felt his arm brushed over your waist as he fixed the coat over your body properly while you snuggled deeper.

"sleep," he whispered, pulling his knees up as he laid his arms over it.

after a few minutes, and you couldn't— not when you heard him give out the deepest sigh as he sat on the pad in the dark, the usual. even three months of the split, you still now this about him. the nights you have spent calling out his name, only for him to be far away because he couldn't sleep. the only thing that could make him lay down comfortably is when you would reach out to his hand, guiding him back beside you.

but you don't know if it was still appropriate, because you two aren't together. a mutual decision, and even as every bit mutual it is, it felt too different and unsettling. still, you weren’t a nobody to not comfort him through his night. so you did the best thing that you could think of, no matter how hard it was to strip the sleep away from your tired body but you did it anyway for him.

your shoulder brushed his as you sat beside him, yawning as you stretched your legs as you pulled them to your chest. you rested your head on top of your arms as levi tensed beside you.

“what are you doing?” levi softly asked, turning his head to the side as you yawned gently.

“you can’t sleep so i’m staying up with you.”

“i said go to sleep.”

“you can’t tell me what to do,” you muttered, resting your cheek on your arm as you traced his features with your eyes in the soft, tented moonlight.

“we have to be up in a couple of hours, so, rest.”

“i will stay up if i want to.”

three months of avoidance, three months of excuses of the split and this has been the closest the two of you have been. like a lost continuation to the story you two have been trying so hard to narrate only for it to be unfinished in the end.

it isn’t always horrible with him. everyday with him was filled with the small things, the details that made your heart flutter: that whenever you wake up just for him to feel his arm lazily on top of yours, or when he polishes your boots, when he piles your things neatly, kissing your shoulder, holding your little finger in secret, a hand on your back as he passes, the quiet “hi’s” mumbled, or his palm turning over yours as he let you hold his hand when he couldn’t sleep at night.

levi felt your finger tap on his knee as you nudged him with your shoulder, making him intake sharply. suddenly, he felt your hand on top of his, clutching it gently while you turned your head straight ahead. levi didn’t even try to question or fight it— because just this once and last time, he wants to. he turned his palm over, fitting his fingers into the spaces as he held on to yours while the two of you sat down together in the dark.

seconds, minutes has passed before he finally had enough of the sitting. he looked down at the intertwined fingers before stretching his shoulder.

“i’m going to lay down,” levi sighed.

“okay.”

and he did. and he held on to your hand, as he settled in on his side. he tugged on your fingers, making you look back at him, smiling as he tugged again, urging you to lay down too.

“are we going to sleep?” you yawned, curling up beside him, facing him. “do you want me to hold your hand?”

“don’t coddle me,” levi scoffed, turning his head away while he laid on his back.

“hah,” you huffed, closing your eyes as levi placed your intertwined hands in the space between your bodies. “if i pull away, don’t come crying to me.”

“go. to. sleep,” levi harshly whispered —faintly squeezing your hand.

“i should say the same to you.”

“speak more and i don’t think i’ll ever get to sleep.”

you chuckled softly, snuggling closely until the faint press of your cheek is upon his shoulder. levi turned his face, his lips close to your forehead as he breathed deeply, awaiting for sleep. he could see through the sliver of the moonlight as you moved in closer to him, lips slightly parted as sleep clouded your mind.

levi couldn’t help but breathe a little better, think a little gentler when you are close to him— as if everything is shutting down for the day, and he only wanted to drown in the sense of you. but he shouldn’t, because it was over. it was a mutual agreement, and he admitted how it was such a good decision for the both of you, but he couldn’t help but be bitter.

“where did we go wrong?” levi asked in the night, turning his face away. he held on to your hand while he absently soothed you, sighing deeply as he let his mind rest into the clouds with the feeling of you.

where did we go wrong?

you flutter your eyes open, resting your chin on his shoulder as levi slept beside you. his hair framed his face, falling sloppily on his forehead, making you want to brush them away— push them away just to get a better look at his face. but you stopped your fingers just at the tips of his hair, retreating them back to hold on to his arm.

the smallest distance you have shared with him after breaking up and it has got you messed up in the mind. but sleep never came that easy, because his question stayed unanswered.

his morning view. it wasn’t the ugly shade of the tent or the way the recruits outside laughed outside. it was the way your cheek was pressed on his shoulder, almost leaving little no space on his side because you have completely moved closer to him.

levi has been awake for almost an hour, unmoving and still as he waited for you to pry away your tangled arms and legs with his, both of your hands still lazily intertwined with each other and levi perfected his fake sleeping position while he felt you stir awake beside him.

he has done this so many times, almost waiting for you brush his hair away as you gently moved away from him. it almost didn’t happened as he listened to your shaky breathing, knowing that you were hesitating. levi didn’t really expect you to brush his hair away— let alone hold his hand, so he threw away that thought.

yet, his heart almost stopped when he felt your fingertips brush his cheek in the softest gesture, as you murmured a little, “levi?”

but he didn’t respond. he was supposed to be sleeping.

“still asleep?” you whispered so softly, feeling your hand brush his bangs away.

he could feel the futon crumbling under your weight as you untangled your legs, yawning gently as you stood up, while he listened to you move around. you stopped for a moment, and levi almost opened his eyes to see where you have gone to, but he only felt your hands rustle down his blanket, covering his feet— tucking it underneath the covers. then, you were off.

you have been gone for awhile, and levi finally opened his eyes— letting out the biggest exhale that he didn’t know he was holding. levi stretched his neck, rubbing circles into his nape, feeling the aftermath of having his head faced to the side while he slept as he sat up.

he closed his eyes, seething through the sensation, while he tried to move his neck to side, taking a deep breath whenever it hurt. he didn’t even hear you come inside— he only opened his eyes in surprise when he felt your hand on his knee, squeezing it while you crouched beside him.

“does your neck hurt?” you smiled, holding out a warm cup of tea for him. levi looked down at your hand, his eyes wondering but you answered it right away. “i saw it in your bag, i’m sorry. i thought i’d make you tea as a thank you.”

“hmm,” levi nodded, accepting the warm drink from your hands.

you sat down near his feet, blowing on your own drink as you two sat in silence— listening to the trainees outside the tent.

“we go back to the headquarters in a while,” you mumbled, looking at the liquid in your cup.

“we should get ready,” levi murmured, his lips on the brim of the tea you have brought him. he wanted nothing more than to wrap his blanket around you, noticing the small sniffle from the crisp weather— but he fought over it.

tea all smell the same to him whenever he does it, but it feels different whenever you make it for him and it almost made him smile.

the air has settled once more, both of you sipping silently, relishing in the stillness of the night and the morning spent together. levi watched you blow on your tea, placing it firmly in between your hands, moving it around gently— both of you not moving a muscle to prepare for the way back. he stayed on his spot, enjoying his tea as he looked at you carefully, noticing the deep furrowed brows on your face— painted deep in worry and dread.

levi sighed gently, making you look at him. if there was something bothering you, he was sure it was because of what he said last night. he thought you were asleep right away, because he read the tiredness in your eyes but he must’ve missed it. he took the blanket off of his body, moving to sit beside you.

his shoulder brushed yours in a greeting, as his hand found its way towards yours. “cold?”

“a little,” you murmured, turning your hand over as he intertwined your hands together— warmth from the tea swirling in between the two of you. levi stared ahead into nothing, gently smiling, as you placed your head on his shoulder, tightening your hold over his.

holding each other just for the last time, leaving the question still unanswered, as you two sat down together in the early morning.

#toooo self-indulgent #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman imagines #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #aot imagine #aot imagines #snk imagine #snk imagines #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan imagines #attack on titan imagine #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader

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albino-whumpee · 3 years

Text

It was a sunny day

SO, I finally wrote the accident. God I had so so many doubts about this part. But hey, its ok. its just for fun. 778900´s POV first before we dip into Robert´s.

This is a series, here´s the Masterlist

Taglist: @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @giggly-evil-puppy @cowboysrappin @haro-whumps @burtlederp @neuro-whump @comfortforthepain @whumps-the-word @whole-and-apart-and-between @broken-horn @ashintheairlikesnow @rosesareviolentlyread @crowned-avery @starnight-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @as-a-matter-of-whump @whumpasaurus101 @grizzlie70 @boxboysandotherwhump

TW// dehumanization, slavery, human trafficking, narcotics and syranges, death, child death, car accidents, dub-con, dub con touching (sexual), kind of spicy, blood, conditioning, defiant whumpee, curse words, This one is messed up, so please be careful when going through it.

It had been two years.

778900 had been waiting for two years for someone to take him. As the days passed, as he tried completing his training with as little “incidents” that ended up in him getting yet another set of fresh bruises, the hope of getting out was starting to die out.

He tried being good.

He tried to do everything the handlers ordered him to do. Did his positions, however humilliating they were, ate the flavorless nutrition meals, kept his head down and his attention sharp. But it was useless. One way or another, he would fail.

So he payed attention to even the tiniest detail.

How the handler´s watch would always mark 5 am when they were told it was night, how the blond handler´s hands always stayed a moment longer than necessary when he was on position training, how the cooking classroom was essentially the handler´s meal prep, the direction all handlers walked to when they talked about “going for some fresh air”; How the handlers would shift the camera in the hallway next to the handler´s room after taking a boy with them for whatever lame excuse they would put and finally, how the medic at the facility kept syringes with a powerful narcotic in her coat´s pocket just in case.

You signed up for this

A voice inside his head told him, before he stared at the handler´s clock and found the needle pointing at five, just as expected. As he went to the medic´s office to receive his daily dosis of vitamins. “Special treatment” was not quite the reason he had to take them. It was just them making sure the precious money and time spent training him, wasn´t wasted on a defective product.

He didn´t remember anymore, but he had come weighting half the acceptable for a boy his age and size. It was no surprise he fainted with just a stretching routine. It had gotten better with the vitamins, but the handlers were forced by the medic to not beat him if he fell to the ground.

He was deeply thankful for the woman to go that far for him even with the handler´s threats. So, so very thankful he got vitamins thanks to her kindness. Or so he made it seem, as she allowed him to give her a hug. Not sensing at all his hand taking out the syringe before responding to her “take care” with a bright smile on his face that distracted her from his hands.

You wanted to not make any decisions for yourself.

He heard deep inside his head as he added something to the sauce for the dish they cooked at class that day. The trainee sneaked glances at the blond handler coming to his table to watch him clean up after cooking, noticing the last boy went through the door with his handler, he knocked the sauce all over him. Loudly. So fashionably eye catching, the blond whipped his head to laugh at him.

“I-I´m sorry, I didn´t see it and…I´m so sorry” He stumbled on his words, acting as if he was cleaning himself up. Smirking to himself, the man pulled him up and started cleaning him.

“Jesus, what a waste. How can you be that clumsy?” he asked him, not exactly sounding annoyed to put his hand over his chest. Slowly, 778900 took the man´s hand and passed it down his torso.

“Thank you…” he said with a honey toned voice, making sure he pressed his hand right above his crutch, noticing the hungry look the man gave him, he rocked his hips on his hand, letting out a breathy moan. With his hand teasing the edge of his trainee shorts, the albino leaned to whisper on his ear, “…For helping me clean up” he finished with a little pop, “We have position training after this, but I will need a bath…” almost to emphasize, The boy pulled the man´s dripping hand and pressed it to his lips. 778900 gave him a kiss on the cheek as he pushed one glaced digit into the stunned man´s mouth. “Please. I wouldn´t like anyone but you to do it” he had said in that needy voice he would hear romantics talk in sometimes.

He took off his finger to let him speak, but he could still feel the warmth of his tongue licking him clean.

“Where did you learn to talk like that?” the man asked him wetting his lips, before the trainee gave him a bratty pout and leaned on slightly closer.

“Does it matter?”

The man had bitten the bait. Or more accurately, licked it. Directly or from his hands. The boy had even moaned to encourage him to continue. In his bliss, the man was completely taken by surprise when the albino put his hand over his mouth and felt something puncturing his skin and then warmth began spreading through his body. He felt his limbs growing so heavy suddenly, he slouched over the boy.

“Shh” the albino trainee whispered on his ear as he passed his fingers through his hair “Be a good boy and go to sleep for me” he said, putting away the empty syringe while staring at the turned off camera on the edge of the room the whole time.

A moment later he had crawled below the man and started undressing him after futilely trying to cut off the shock collar on his neck with a kitchen knife. The boy took his clothes and covered his hair with the little cap with “WRU” embroided in bright blue, making sure to cover his neck properly.

You signed up for this

His mind rocked back and forth as he kept his head down. Navigating the halls to the handler´s room in a quick, anxious pace that tried to avoid every suspicious eye. The trainee waited a second for the men to come out of the handler´s room to sneak inside. He couldn´t make up any letters as words without a migraine attacking him. So he guided himself with the drawings on the level map.

Silently, he came out of the room with the elevator on the far right on mind. He walked the same direction as them when they said they would “go get some fresh air” but found a handler and a few boys cleaning the halls. It was part of their training. He quickly noticed the handler´s eyes fixing on him. So, he took one boy and quietly directed him to clean over a spot on the other side. Far from them. The boy obediently followed his instructions and he patted his back before walking to the elevator.

I signed for this

He told himself as he extended the card over what he assumed was a card reader. There were no buttons but to open and close, so the only way to get out was only through the handler´s and executives cards, each designated to an specific floor. Of course, that was something the panicking, albino trainee didn´t know. He only had the Handler´s card by pure chance, but for his audacity, he was rewarded with the doors closing to feel the vertigo from going up.

And I fucking regret it.

There was a loud ring when the doors opened up again to a floor, and he prayed, it was the highest point. That there was a door conducting outside.

And it was.

He pushed it open and found above, the almost forgotten sky. The sun was already high up and just a few clouds spotted the vast blue.

It was a sunny day.

He stepped out without letting go. The view of trees, the sun on his skin and seeing how blue the sky was, drove him to tears quick enough that he didn´t notice there were other handlers smoking there.

“Hey, got some reds? I ran out” one of them asked, eyeing him for a second before a frown formed on his face, “Who are you? I have never seen you” He ignored him, heart throbbing on his ears as he tried walking past them, into the woods, “Hey!” one of them launched himself to grab his wrist, pulling on the uniform enough to find the barcode and numbers. “HOLY SH-” the man couldn´t finish before 778900 whipped his hand back and sprinted towards the forest. As quickly and as far away from their screams and their batons and the range from his collar as his feet could carry him.

Unknowingly, going straight into the highway.

He could hear their yelling getting lost behind him. Adrenaline helping him to outrun them. He jumped and knocked over a few bushes on his way. Tearing the clothes apart in his rush. Sweat made his forehead slippery enough for the cap to get lost somewhere on the way, but he couldn´t stop.

So he kept running until finally, he felt concrete under his oversized boots. He didn´t know how far he had run, but he knew he wanted to collapse right there and then as the haziness of hunger overcame him. He couldn´t stop now, but he allowed himself to catch his breath with his hands on his knees.

It was a second.

Just one second.

However, it was all it took to pass from breathing triumphantly that he was out to be in front of a van driving pass the limit.

It was one second when he curled into himself and the van turned to his right, avoiding him by mere centimeters and crashing violently into the other side of the highway. Turning and turning and turning.

The boy rose to his feet when he stopped hearing the metal crashing into the pavement. The world seemed to slow down then. As his chest heaved making his wayt to the turned around car, hoping there had only been one person aboard, his heart leaped. He had seen too many shadows, too many clothes scattered around.

Then, he heard the screams.

For a hot second he stayed still, considering he could simply turn his back on it. He would be in serious problems if they found him… but he had provoked it, hadn´t he? It would be his fault if something happened to the poor people inside the van. If they died… they would have died on a sunny day.

People shouldn´t die on sunny days.

A voice different from the usual, a voice that made him irrationally sad, told him.

So, he tried to rush to help, but felt the familiar bolt of pain on his neck. So much stronger than normal, he fell to the ground, his hands up on his neck before he could register he had screamed. There were a row of convulsing bolts that pinned him down. The electrifying pain took away his consciousness bit by bit.

He let out a whimper as someone grabbed him by the uniform´s shirt and started beating him. Reflexes too slow to put up his hands to defend his head or face. It took little more than two hits to draw out blood. To make his ears ring and his eyes to mud everything. But he didn´t need to see or hear to know it was the blond handler, pissed out of his mind.

He was barely awake when his head was pressed against the concrete, while he was roughly handcuffed on his back, before being pulled up. Only to be slapped when he couldn´t stand for himself, and then, thrown into the unforgiving cold of the van´s floor.

The car started so quickly, as he tried to pull himself up the ground, he couldn´t avoid slamming the back of his head against the door´s sharp edged lock.

From then on, it was black.

—-

“Yeah, yeah. I called an ambulance” the man shouted into his phone as he drove back to the facility. A pissed voice on the other side yelled at him loud enough to make him separate the phone from his ear, “Do you fucking think this was on the manual? They´re supposed to be fucking broken! How the hell did he get his hands on a narcotic? How the hell did no one notice? He´s white like a paper sheet for fucks sake!” he screamed back, hearing attentively to the voice “What? No, he´s fine. Just some scratches and- FUCK” The wheels burnt when he stopped the car to whip his head towards the blood pond on the back of the van. Fuming, he passed his hands through his hair, failing to hold a frustrated scream as he slammed open the doors and checked for a pulse.

He sighed in relief before he passed the barely breathing boy to the front, wrapping a discarded scarf around his head before fastening the seatbelt and driving back.

“Jesus, kid” he shook his head, eyeing the unconscious boy next to him “Couldn´t you have tried to escape in a less flashy way?”

When he got back, he begged the doctor he had stolen the narcotric from, to treat the boxie. To give him the strongest serum they had, because it wasn´t only him risking losing his job or worse.

She had no other choice than to agree. In the worst case, he would have brain damage. Putting aside the possible motor damage luckily they would be able to fix before anyone noticed, however, a colateral would be damage to his short term memory. Meaning, he would do things without being able to recall them later. In the optimistic side, it wouldn´t last forever. He would remember some things eventually. Hopefully much time after he was bought. When he wouldn´t be the company´s problem anymore.

Hoping it would be that way, she began treatment.

The man made his way to the handlers above, then. The men laughed at his incompetence, but he had made up his mind.

“I´m gonna quit”

“Right call” one of them said.

“None of you will talk about this. EVER. Nothing happened. I´ll even pay you, but none of this ever happened, understood?”

The men exchanged looks before smiling at their ex coworker “And what are you gonna do about the van?”

“Bad accident, four people died in situ. A four year old between them I heard”

“And the doctor too. The one that CEO´, was marrying on March. Heard CEO´s on the hospital as well” the blond handler gulped. “Guilty, Sanders? Want some serum to forget like the boxie?”

“Nothing. Happened” The men said through gritted teeth. The other two stared at him before pulling their hands up. What did they care anyways? If they had cared about humans pain, they wouldn´t be in that line of work. Well, beyond their own amusement.

When Sanders went away to write his resignation letter, both handlers stayed there for a while. Looking at the sun go higher and higher. No clouds on sight. It was the kind of day kids would use as an excuse to go outside. The perfect day to go on a picnic. To grab your partner and have a nice date. One of them wondered if they people on the van were going to do just that when the boxie jumped on the highway.

“What a pretty day to die though” he said, sipping on their cigarette looking up at the sky.

—

A few months later, “nothing happened” made the freckled twenty year old college student, the costume order box boy for a broken hearted CEO and two years later, a lonely, grieving woman take out 778900 out of his box.

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orangegreet · 3 years

Text

Photo by Peter Chiykowski on Unsplash

It was an impulsive decision she made, veering off the road.

Trotting her tired pony through the bog, Alina thought to reach the pond directly by cutting through the grounds.

She only realized the graveness of her error when the beast whined, its hooves stuck in the thick mud.

Alina cast a glance above at the unforgiving sky.

Meaning only to get the weary little pony a drink, she ended up stranded in the treacherous earth between road and house where few could notice her.

In earnest, she raised pleading cries toward the manor—pleas which were lost as the rain began to fall.

All that could be heard were the sheaths of water which fell in cascading waves over the grounds.

The vast estate around her might have been beautiful with the help of the sun gleaming down on its features but in the gloom of autumn dusk and the haze of rainfall, everything was colored into shades of gray and black.

How terrible this journey had become. A sickly old pony for a sickly little woman. Together for a week of travel from their coastal home in the south and up into the ever-dreary wilds of the north country. It had been a long, arduous journey.

Only now to be nearly swallowed by the grounds of Blyth Fell? It was a poor omen.

How deeply troubling to be so far north from everything she had ever known and completely at a loss for what to do next. Would she die here, helpless and sodden?

The thought throttled her heart and she melted into a shroud of self-pity.

No one would hear her. No one would see her what with the rain and the closing of the day. She would surely catch her death within the hour.

Or perhaps she would grow so weak as to slip off her horse and become pulled into the earth herself where the mud would expand into her ears, her nose, her throat.

Drowning in sludge on the eve of her employment—it would be a fitting end to her tragic little life.

When her tears began to fall, she was thankful they could blend in with the rain drops running down her face; the tears and droplets would be fast friends in their wallowing.

So preoccupied was she that when two large hands clamped around her waist, she shrieked in fright and kicked at her assailant.

“Calm yourself, blamed woman!” The gruff voice shouted above the din of the storm.

Sharp eyes cut into her own, black and menacing to her enervated state.

“You are in need of assistance and I am unfortunate enough to be passing by.” He told her. Water covered his face and dripped from his nose and his jaw.

Alina was dumbstruck by his beauty.

Enough that her tears abated for the moment.

“I will have to set you by the carriage.” The man continued.

Her eyes lingered on the dark, wet locks curling from under the brim of his hat. She nodded in acquiescence though he had already begun to tuck her over his arm like a paper doll and trudge up the hill.

A great, black carriage stood at the top of the slope, door ajar and horses nudging at the road in impatience.

“Inside.” He commanded, setting her down with haste. Alina stepped into the shelter obediently and watched as the man worked his way back to the front of the coach.

The driver already had one of the horses unhitched and together the two men trailed the steed back down the hill toward her distressed pony, stopping just short of the bog land.

Alina tried to watch their progress through the carriage window, eyes squinting through the bleary haze.

After a few minutes she thought she saw her that her pony had drifted further away even as the black stallion veered back.

The window fogged. She wiped it away with her wet sleeve and pressed closer. Her sweet, dear little pony was now very deep in mud. The base of its hauches no longer visible.

The carriage door swung open and she shrieked.

The dark haired man cast her a haughty look and then shifted into the carriage, moving across from her while he rummaged in his belongings beneath the bench.

“Ah, there.” He was holding a long musket aloft with one hand and stuffing the muzzle with another.

“Should be quite fine.” He leveled the rifle and, as if remembering her existence, looked up again, “Ah, yes. I’m afraid the beast will need to be put down. Look away, if it please you.”

It did not seem to make a difference for him.

His eyes skipped right over the horrified look on Alina’s face and he swept out of the coach again, door rattling in his wake.

The black tails of his coat billowed behind him in the wind and she swore he adjusted his hat into a perfect tilt as he balanced the firearm and aimed.

Bang.

Even the tragic sound of mercy was muffled by the rain.

Alina was too shocked to make any noise. Mouth agape, she watched the blurry figures through the window as they slogged back up the hill to reattach the black horse to his harness.

She was too shocked to do more than shuffle away from the door in a daze when the man stepped inside again.

Saddle bags dropped at her feet and he reached into the bench seat to remove a rag.

He tapped the front window once seated and the carriage took off again.

The pause in their journey suddenly felt as natural as if they had made a stop-off to pick wildflowers.

The man eyed her warily as he cleaned his gun.

Alina opened her mouth to speak and closed it several times, the carriage jostling her as she floundered for words.

“I never intended to…that is, I meant to...It seemed prudent to get the pony some water. We do not—that is to say…I never fathomed such terrain…” her hand covered her mouth in shame before she could continue.

“Hmm.” He smirked and returned to his task. “Well in your desire to care for the poor beast, you quite ensured it’s doom.”

Though tears sprang to her eyes at the condemnation, she found her anger at last and glared.

He chuckled in surprise. His face crinkled with mirth. Even in cruelty, he was beautiful.

“You are most welcome, by the way. For coming to your rescue.”

Great thanks indeed. The man was more monster than gentleman in her view.

Manners won out eventually and she mustered a gracious nod. Her words were still heavy in her chest.

The dark eyes remained on her, studying her features even as she forced her gaze back to the window.

“Pardon me, sir. My wits fled me for a few moments and now I am unsure. Could you deliver me to Blyth Fell? I should like to have walked from the road so as not to be an inconvenience. Or if your coachman would be so kind as to stop here, I can find my own way.”

Alina shifted to pick up the saddle bags which contained all her belongings. Everything left to her in the world.

“You are an orphan, are you not?” He was smirking at her again.

“How did you…” the cruelty of his smile cut through her question.

“I told my staff I wished for an orphaned governess this time.” He said, simply. “Our last one was far too home sick. All her free time spent holed up in her room writing letters to her sister or someone similar. I did not heed the particulars closely, you see.”

He examined the shine of his gun as he buffed. “Only her misery. That which she spread about the hall like a plague. It was a relief when she resigned her post.”

The way he looked at her was as a predator to cornered prey. Alina gulped.

Did he just kick his lips? A trick of the mind, surely.

Her words bubbled up from the tangle of her insides, “Then you are Lord Kirigan.”

He blinked and then smiled again, “Indeed. And your name, miss?”

“You know I am an orphan in your employ and you have yet to learn my name? I am hired to be governess to your children, am I not?” The venom with which the words whipped out of her mouth astonished them both.

Apparently, the little pony was not as forgotten to her as it was to her companion just now.

Alina reddened in her cheeks and ears while Lord Kirigan stared dumbfounded for a moment.

“I apologize, sir. It has been a long journey on my own and I have quite forgotten myself.”

He adjusted his collar and seemed to right himself at her admission. “Quite right. As if I am allotted the time to learn every detail of someone whom may or may not withstand the trial period in my employ.”

Alina’s heart raced under the threat. Enduring the long journey back south as a disgraced ex-governess was not comforting in the least.

She collected herself, straightened her posture and introduced herself.

“Miss Starkova.” The Lord held her name in his mouth a moment longer than usual and she was struck again by his dark eyes, watchful as they collected the details of her across from him.

“Unusual name for this part of the world. Am I to assume your credentials are adequate?”

A retort rose to her mind and she bit it back, nodding and listing off the education and training she accomplished in Weymouth. Alina would need to tamp this urge to defy him if she intended to keep her employ beyond the carriage ride.

As if she had manifested the ending with the thought, the carriage came to a stop.

Her head tilted as she looked up at the manor through the window. Lord Kirigan made no move to leave, watching her first with open curiosity and then a scowl.

The coachman opened the carriage door and Kirigan exited.

The rain had morphed into a light drizzle. The Lord straightened his coat before turning back to the carriage and offered his hand to the new governess.

Hesitating for only a moment, Alina’s fingers slid over his warm palm.

Once more, her eyes met his. A heartbeat of energy or perhaps merely her pulse could be felt in the space where they touched. He narrowed his gaze at her and then wrenched his eyes away, dropping her hand after she descended the carriage.

“Ivan will see to your bags.” Lord Kirigan called over his shoulder as he entered the house. “Welcome to Blyth Fell, Miss Starkova.”

Alina watched him recede into the dark entry before her, unable to look away even as the drizzling rain collected at her brow and ran down her face.

#darklina fic #darklina fanfic #aleksander morozova #alina starkov #alina x aleksander #darklina #grishaverse #the grisha trilogy #shadow and bone fic #shadow and bone #eventual hea #eventual smut #haunted #darklina server #the darkling #shadow & bone

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cygnetofthesea · 3 years

Text

Part 2 of Welcome Home.

He’s staring at her with a goofy smile on. He can’t help himself as his eyes rove over her and he knows she’s aware of his eyes, the corners of her lips curled in amusement. She’s all too used to his burning gaze on her but it never ceases to have an affect on her whether it’s turning her into mush or filling her will suppressed mirth.

In this particular case, it seemed to be a combination of both even as she tries to ask him about everyone back home.

“How’s Samuel doing? I spoke with him over the weekend and he seems good but I feel like he tries to spare me from the heavy stuff.”

He smiles softly at her. He knew exactly what she was talking about and it was true he had refrained from telling Nadia about some of his troubles lest he worry her but this time he was pleased he could honestly reassure her.

“He’s really fine actually. That trip we took to parliament was really good for him, I think. It was the first time he made moves toward his future instead of worrying so much about his family. It was nice to see actually.”

Nadia looks content with that response. “That’s good. I understand familial obligations and it's why I never said anything, but I think they were too much of a distraction for him. He was the kid and the youngest one too, yet somehow with the most responsibilities.”

Guzman is intrigued by that and tilts his head to the side. “And it’s unfair, isn’t it? That burden shouldn’t fall on the child, should it?”

“No, not like that.”

He narrows his eyes at her, waiting for her to make the connection. “Sounds a bit familiar, doesn’t it?”

She looks at him confused for a moment before realization settles in. “What? No, it’s not the same.”

“Oh, it’s not?” Guzman smirks.

“No, because Samuel’s mom didn’t care that he was working more than he was studying…”

Guzman lifts a brow. He was sure Nadia’s mother wasn’t apathetic about how much Nadia spent at the shop per se, but she at least didn’t do much about it either.

Nadia continues on anyway, pivoting. “Ok well, Samuel has an older brother that could help.”

Guzman remains silent.

“At least my brother didn’t deal drugs…” She trails off as the realization finally settles in. She and Samuel dealt with a lot of the same issues. “Huh, wow...I guess it makes sense how we ended up friends.”

“Mm-hmm,” Guzman nods. “It’s easy for you to see Samuel’s hardship and judge his family for it, but you don’t realize that your own family has done the same to you. And that’s not fair either.”

Nadia looks stunned for a moment and he can see her tell-tale pondering face as she considers his words.

“I...But-I…” Nadia stammers looking genuinely befuddled and it endears Guzman. He knew her relationship with her parents had gotten better but he couldn't help feeling protective over her and ensuring that she was always treated with the respect she deserved. It was only an afterthought that she and Samuel shared similar experiences and perhaps that was how he came to be friends with Samuel after getting over his biases.

But Guzman wasn’t particularly interested in a teachable moment just then. He missed Nadia too much to spend the first few hours talking about Samuel. No offense to his best friend.

“You know, I actually don’t really want to talk about Samuel right now.”

Her eyes are full of mirth as her body shakes with quiet laughter. She was so happy and it thrilled him that it was largely because of him.

“No?” she asks.

“No.”

And before she can get another word in, he’s pushing her against the wall, his lips gentle but urgent against hers. It starts off slow as they savor the moment, reveling in each other’s touch. The familiar warmth, her soft lip soothing against his own slightly chapped ones. Somehow he’s already breathless, the sheer nearness to her knocking the breath out of him, but he can’t stop tasting her. His hands slide firmly from her hips up to her ribs and lifts her up against the wall so her feet are barely touching the ground but her mouth is more aligned with his. Nadia wraps her arms around his shoulders tighter and lets out a muffled sigh.

Just like that, the languid pace of their kiss turns into desperate gasps, wet lips pressing and sliding against each other firmly. Guzman forgets himself for a moment and hikes one of her legs around his hip, pressing their pelvises closer—but still not close enough for his liking—while his other hand untucks her blouse from her pants. His fingers immediately seek out her smooth, warm skin and he feels so deprived from the glorious sensation that he can’t help the groan that escapes him.

God, how he had missed her.

His hot hand against her heated skin set him ablaze and he needed more, needed to feel her skin, taste more of her flavor, smell more of her essence...he just needed more. He keeps their body melded together as he drags his lips across her neck and sucks the skin at the base of her throat.

She lets out a breathless whimper, arching her neck against the pressure of his mouth and tongue. “Guzman…”

He’d have to be wrenched away from her at this point, her heavy breaths, her familiar sounds when he would touch her, spurred him on. His fingers made quick work on the buttons of her blouse, his mouth following behind with every new patch of skin that was revealed. He traces the edges of her bra with his tongue before she yanks his head back up to hers, pulling him into a desperate kiss. Her hands drag through his hair, pulling slightly, not enough to draw pain but enough to make him thrust his hips instinctively against hers.

“Nadia, Nadia, Nadia…” he chants in between kisses. “I need you.”

The elevator comes to an abrupt stop, jostling them enough to break apart with a wet smack. Guzman keeps his grip firmly on Nadia as he looks toward the door, his chest heaving. He has to blink several times to ease back to reality and realize they had apparently stopped on their floor.

Nadia comes back to reality sooner, scrambling to button her shirt again while keeping the door open.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe we just did that. What if someone caught us, or worse, my super? So stupid of us.”

Nadia presses a hand to her flushed cheek while the other reaches for his suitcase. That gets him moving and he steps away from her, taking the handle from her.

“It’s ok, we weren’t doing anything bad.”

Guzman wasn’t bothered by the circumstances but he knows public displays of amorous affections were a sore spot for Nadia because of the locker room incident. A part of him will always feel resentful toward Valerio and Lu for their part but he knows that Nadia frets about it enough for the both of them so he tries to ease her worries.

“I’m sorry,” he says, following behind her at a respectable distance so that if anyone were to glance over, they’d be none the wiser of their elevator activities. “I didn’t mean to get carried away—”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Nadia says with a slight smile. She seems a lot more composed. She takes his hand and he feels relieved. “I got carried away too. Can’t blame either of us for doing so, but let’s stick to the safety of our home next time.”

Home. Once again, the word causes a flutter in his chest and elation to fill his body. It was enough to cool down his heated and excited body momentarily.

He beams at her. “Home sounds perfect. In more ways than one.”

They stop in front of an apartment door with the number 207 on it and Nadia begins to fuss with her clothes once more.

“I don’t look like a mess, do I? It’s not obvious what we were up to?”

Before he can get a word in, Nadia reaches over and fixes the collar of his shirt and straightens his hair a little.

Guzman shakes his head. “You look great. Besides, we’re heading inside anyway.”

Nadia nods, unlocking the door and swinging it open. “Here we are.”

Before Guzman can process the sight before him, he blinks against the flash of Nadia’s polaroid camera. She pulled it from her eyes with a shy smile. “I wanted to get a picture of your reaction. I knew it would be too good to pass up.”

He looks at her in awe, stepping further into the apartment with his suitcase. He vaguely registers the door slamming shut behind his but he’s too transfixed and filled with emotions bubbling inside him.

Hung up across the living room was a huge banner that said “Welcome Home” and underneath it, in glittering capital letters, his name was spelled out. On either side of the banner were streamers and balloons and sitting on the dining table to his right sat a huge chocolate cake, his favorite. He continues to take in the apartment, his new home, and sees there are fairy lights lining the top edges of the wall, more streamers and balloons in the kitchen and off to the side, making the place look festive and cozy.

“I know it’s probably overboard but we were just too excited and couldn’t help ourselves,” Nadia says.

He looks at her and her face softens. It’s only then he realizes his eyes have started watering again. She rushes to him and pulls him into a tight hug, pulling back just enough to look at his face.

“We wanted you to feel at home here. It’s going to be an adjustment but we stocked up the place with all your favorite things from back home.”

He pulls her into a soft kiss, holding her in place just to savor her taste. There’s a lump in his throat and he feels so overwhelmed but he holds onto Nadia to tether him, holding onto her as his safe haven.

“Thank you,” he says hoarsely when he pulls away and presses his forehead to hers.

“Of course. Plus, it was a group effort.”

Guzman looks over at the cake before turning back to Nadia with a quirked brow.

“Ok, well that was me,” Nadia amends. “You know Lu wouldn’t ever be caught dead with a whisk.”

He lets out a burst of laughter and Nadia strokes the corner of his eyes where he’s sure they are red-rimmed with unshed tears.

“Well, since that’s the case, what do you say we dive in?”

Nadia helps him shed his and places it next to hers on the coat rack by the door. She leads him over to the table in front of the cake where it too says “Welcome Home, Guzman!” There’s also even a heart drawn on there and he knows it was Nadia’s.

“You made my favorite,” he murmurs to her, his mouth already salivating at the thought of digging into what he knew were three layers of moist chocolate cake with layers of dark chocolate ganache and coffee mousse in between. This was just one of the things he had missed about her while she had been gone.

“Of course.” She pecks him against his temple and hands him a knife.

As they settle in with a large piece of cake to share, Guzman realizes this is just one of the many quiet moments they’ll get to have. This was the start of their lives together and he was so at peace, finally home.

Home with Nadia.

#Guznadia #Guzman x Nadia #Nadia x Guzman #Nuzman #Elite #Netflix Elite

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buckyownsmylife · 3 years

Text

How I Want You - Logan Delos x Reader Fluff

The one where Logan confesses that he loves you.

Warnings: angst, Logan’s crappy father, sexual themes, selfdoubt and selfhatred.

A/N: No, I couldn’t help myself. I’m obsessed with Taylor Swift and it shows.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It was way too fucking late for anyone to be up, and still, much too early for Logan to have gone to bed. Which was why the second my phone rang, I forsake my comfy blankets and grabbed my keys, knowing exactly who it was - the only person who would call me at such a time and the only number whose call would get through during my sleeping hours.

“Where are you?” Was all I asked, although I already knew that the answer wouldn’t be satisfactory to my plan of going back to sleep as soon as possible. “You know what? Just stay where you are. I’m coming to get you. This is why I download that find my friends app in the first place.”

“I’m home,” he interjected, his tone sounding very firm, and very tired, and very not drunk for the time of day. It caught me by surprise. “I’ll be waiting.”And then he was gone. Hung up in a show of just how quickly he needed me to get to him.

It made my skin crawl and heartbeat pick up, that intuition that only ever acted when it came to him telling me something very bad had happened, or at the very least, that he was as far away from okay as he could get. And if he was home, then it truly was the worst case scenario.

I got there as fast as I could without breaking any laws, and I barely allowed myself the time to kill off the engine before I was running out of the vehicle and into my best friend’s arms. Logan welcomed with a silent desperation that came in the form of reaching for me as a child would for any sort of parental guidance, and the anxiety that had been coursing through my veins while I couldn’t see his state little by little began to be replaced by anger. Pure, unadulterated, blinding anger.

“Get in the car, Lo,” I called him by the childhood nickname he pretended to hate, knowing it would help in my task to calm him down. “I’ll be right back.” He wanted to stop me the second that he realized what my intention was. I knew it because he seized my wrist and held it tightly, stopping me from moving any further away from him. But the second that he saw my eyes, when I turned around to stare at him and silently order him to let go, he did just so, knowing better than anyone else that when I got into this mindset, there was no one who could possibly get me out of it.

“Okay.” He nodded, and I knew he was watching me as I stepped into the huge mansion Logan did not call home. It only made me even more sure of what I intended to do. With quick strides, I crossed the main floor in the direction of his father’s office, and I didn’t even knock before I slammed it open, fire burning inside of me.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” I yelled as soon as James’ eyes met mine after my loud entrance startled him from whatever work he was trying to do at such a late hour - work he had always prioritized over his son.

“What?” He asked, clearly not expecting my sudden outburst, and probably not immediately relating my loss of reason to his only son. It only made me grow angrier, the fact that just because he didn’t worry about Logan, he couldn’t imagine anyone else caring for him either.

“What the fuck did you tell Logan that made him so upset? Only you can make him feel bad about himself, so I know it’s your fault. Tell me.” When realization finally seemed to hit him, no ounce of regret or shame painted James’ features, but that didn’t surprise me. Even if he had never been anything other than sweet to me, being Logan’s best friend meant I knew who he really was, and that implied that I knew every single one of his flaws as a father. He just didn’t know that I did, until then.

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. You really shouldn’t waste your time on a failure like him.” The harsh reality of what he had said hurt me so deeply that it immediately drained me of all anger, leaving only a sickly feeling of disgust behind.

“Logan deserves every single second of my attention, and he deserves yours too. I’m sorry you can’t see it, but the only one who’s missing out is you.” Cold, bitter tears of pity for the sweet man I knew flowed down my cheeks, but I was quick to wipe them away. Logan didn’t need to see them.

“How was it in there?” He asked as soon as I was inside of the car again, his lips curled in a small smile that was half self-conscious, half knowing of what his father was capable of saying when it came to him, but I couldn’t yet stomach what I’d heard, so I just clutched his hand tightly with mine.

“Doesn’t matter. How about a sleepover?”

Logan’s P.O.V.

The drive to her place was silent, but she kept reaching for my hand every time she could, like she needed the physical reminder that I was there with her, instead of back at my house. Like she knew that I needed to be reminded of that too.

What would I do without her? Ever since I could remember, it was us against the world. Or more precisely, us against my father, and as a child, he was pretty much the only boundaries to the world that I knew. But even after I grew and started to see past my father’s empire, when I started to make real, lousy mistakes, instead of the childhood errors that would get me grounded, she still stuck up for me. She was always there, whenever I needed her.

My eyes trailed up her body, taking notice of the way her sleepwear still managed to make her curves enticing. She always looked beautiful in my eyes. No matter how many women I slept with, they could never come close to the beauty that I saw in my best friend and only in her.

“What do you see in me?” I blurted out, suddenly overtaken by the realization of just how inferior to her I was. It made my chest feel tighter, and breathing became a bit harder. The tears that would never come for my father suddenly stung my eyes, and I had to rub the palms of my hands against them to stop myself from crying.

“I’m sorry?” It seemed like she wasn’t expecting the sudden interruption to the silence that had fallen between us, but the desperation that had forced me to ask the question that plagued me had been dulled by my fear of her answer. I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing she thought less of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being less in her eyes than she was in mine.

“Logan, what do you see in yourself?” She asked, once more glancing at me to make sure I was fine, which I was certain I would be able to pretend like I was. But of course, I could never fool her. So when she squeezed my hand to get me to talk, I found myself answering honestly, “Nothing. I-I’m nothing, Y/N. I’m just a waste of space and air and energy, your energy, and I have absolutely no idea why you put up with me.”

We had arrived at her apartment complex, I realized, but only because suddenly there were arms thrown over me, and a familiar neck for me to nuzzle with a familiar perfume that seemed to be the only thing able to relax my very soul.

“Well, that’s the exact opposite of what I see in you, Logan Delos. I see so much, I see everything. I see the whole wide world in you. You’ve always meant that for me. And to see you doubt that… There’s not a day in my life where I don’t hate your father for making you think so little of yourself.” That had me laughing against her skin, but it was a wet sound, unfortunately. Still, she didn’t seem to mind, allowing me to cling tightly to her as she drew soft patterns on my back. “You can’t say bad things about yourself, ever. That’s an order.”

After that last comment made me pull away from her to freely laugh, she looked patiently at me with the most loving smile on her face. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” I asked, caressing the side of her face and grinning with pride when she leaned against my touch.

“Almost as much as you mean to me, I hope.” I swear, only she could have me laughing after feeling so down a few minutes before.

“Way more than that.”

“I doubt it.”

For a while, it was a staring contest between the two of us in her tiny car. I wanted to lean in and kiss her. God, I wanted to find out if her lips were as soft as they looked like But the second my hand grazed her cheek, she seemed to snap out of whatever reverie we had fallen on, quickly putting some space between us to unbuckle her belt.

“Let’s go,” she called out, reaching out for my hand as we walked towards her apartment. The second we were in the familiar setting of her living room, I felt the last bit of weight that had settled over my chest suddenly vaporize and disappear.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I acknowledged as I took off my coat. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” she tried to wave it off, but I couldn’t let her do that. No, I needed her to understand that this was important to me, and I started by pulling her close so I could cradle her face between my hands and force her to see the seriousness in my so often joking eyes.

“I owe you a lot.” That was all I managed to say, as my throat closed at the quickening of my heartbeat. The moment felt heavy with something we couldn’t find it in ourselves to explore, and so we just stood there in silence, eyes cautiously exploring each other’s features until one of us decided to break the tension with a joke.

This time, it was her.

“I’m glad I downloaded that app on my phone and activated your location on yours. I seriously considered buying you a nice collar, with a tracker or something, so I could always know where you were when you called me. Especially when drunk.” I didn’t expect her words to have such an effect on me, but it was instantaneous. I felt my cock harden on my pants, and I knew that she could feel it too as I hid my blushing face in the crook of her neck.

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really that oblivious?” I tried to pass it off as a joke, hoping to calm down despite keeping her touch close to me, but when her fingers buried themselves in my hair, I knew she’d only keep me balancing on this tightrope we’d been dancing on for way too long.

“I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff. Does the idea of wearing a collar entice you that much, Lo?” She asked, and although I knew she also wanted to pass it off as a joke, her voice sounded different, raspier. Filled with desire, I realized with a jolt, finally detaching myself from her to look her in the eye again.

This was it. This was my chance to say something that would irrevocably change the nature of our relationship forever, but hopefully, it’d become all I’d ever wanted.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“If it’s a collar that shows I belong to you, definitely.” I inhaled sharply at the words that fell oh-so-easily from my best friend’s lips. I knew him enough - I knew him way too much - to doubt the veracity of them, but that didn’t stop me from being overwhelmed at the realization that Logan wanted to be mine just as much as I wanted to be his.

“C’mon, stop teasing me,” I pleaded, trying to put some space between us, but failing to do so. Logan kept me close to him, gaze heavy on my body and when I still refused to meet his eyes, he held my jaw and forced me to do so.

“No, you c’mon. You know this isn’t me teasing you like when we were kids. I really, really want you. And not only like a best friend.” I didn’t even notice I was biting my lip until he pried it away with his thumb, staring longingly at it. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Before becoming a kiss, it was just him sucking that same bottom lip into his mouth, making me gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support. But then, he fused our mouths together, licking his way inside my mouth until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

When my eyes fluttered open to find his, I could barely see his pupils anymore. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after that,” I joked, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but failing miserably. There was too much desire between us to disappear just like that. We’d need to find a way to release it if we were to ever move past this.

“I’d be offended if you were.” It felt nice to laugh with him after this kiss, this revelation of sentiments. It felt like, regardless of what we would become after tonight, I wouldn’t lose the most important person in my life, my best friend. The only one who could make me laugh like this, even after a breathtaking kiss, apparently.

“Wanna do something else, instead?”

#my fics #logan delos fluff #logan delos #fluff #logan delos x reader #logan delos reader #logan delos reader insert #logan delos reader inserts #logan delos imagine #logan delos imagines #logan delos writing #logan delos writings

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Alice in Gotham (Jervis Tetch x Reader)

This is crazy, by the way." You mumbled to yourself. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Batman looked down at you and you nodded. "I've come this far." "Remember I won't be far away and I won't let you out of my sight." Batman reminded you. "Yeah, got it. You nodded, run your hands through your new hair. It was actually a wig, a blonde one that was styled like Alice from Alice in Wonderland. You wore a black skirt and white shirt with a black ribbon under the collar. After that was a red coat that you left unbuttoned and red lipstick to match. You memorised lines from the story but regardless, the blonde hair was important. It would be what fixates him. It was always the first thing that draws him in and then he can't let go.

It was very cold in Gotham on this particular night and you weren't sure if your trembling was in anticipation, fear or simply the cold. The plan was unconventional and utter madness, but so was Jervis Tetch. If you kept your distance from him, lured him away, then it would be fine The hostages would be safe.

Getting in was tricky, you had to be silent and create an exit for yourself. A quick and easy one. Luckily enough, the buildings entrance door had no door. Unfortunately, there were corridors upon corridors, like a maze. It seemed almost fitting that he chose this place. However your stomach dropped when you found he wasn't alone.

Two-Face, Scarecrow and the Riddler were also present with Jervis. You silently cursed to yourself. These other criminals made it significantly more difficult, not to mention two of which being genius level in intelligence. You were going to just leave, you turned, ducking behind a corner before Jervis' voice rang out. "Alice?"

Your eyes widened and you hurriedly moved into a dark room. Hiding under the table under the window. He had to have seen the blonde curls, that's the only thing that would ever spot a mile away. "Tetch, now is not the time for your damn hallucinations! No one is there!" Two-Face snapped. "I'm certain! Certain, see!" Someone sighed. "Well why don't you show me where you saw Alice, hm?" The voice was much less rough than Two-Face's whilst the Riddler's voice was always filled with narcissism. That left only Jonathan Crane- the Scarecrow.

You heard them grow closer, turning the corner stopping outside the room you were in. "Are you certain you saw her? You know the mind tends to play tricks..." Jonathan asked. His voice was monotone and smooth, a complete opposite to his frightening obsession with fear. "Certain, I am, Mr Crane! Certain, I am! Poor Alice must not have seen me. A dark night this can be!" His words sent a shiver down your spine. Jervis wouldn't be anywhere near as intimidating if he spoke like an ordinary person. The door of the room you were hiding in creaked open and a light scanned the room. The table blocked any chances of you being found. Your eyes boring into the two pairs of legs. Your heart pounded in your ears but you tried to keep your breathing as quiet and to a minimum.

"Come on, already!" Two-Face's voice rang out. Jervis huffed. "Dismissive! Rude! I don't like your attitude!" Jervis called back but they turned out the light and walked away. You couldn't help but silently thank Harvey for saving you even though he didn't intend to.

This building had previously been offices, as hinted by the many rooms sectioned with dividers and many old computers. All left abandoned as though everyone collectively got up and left without explanation. "Well, I say Crane, Nygma and I take this lot a couple of floors up. We all know Jervis isn't any help with that." Two-Face grumbled. Jervis made a noise of protest. "He's right, Jervis. You keep an eye on things down here. Come up to floor 1 in ten minutes." You didn't understand how everything Edward said, came off as smug. It was odd and very annoying. "Everyone, up!" Two-Face roared and you heard rustling, a cluster of footsteps, cries and whispers in fear.

The three escorted the group and you hid behind the furthest corner. None of the Villains caught sight of you but a couple of hostages did. They sent you pleading looks filled with terror and tears. You put a finger to your lips, nodding at them. It was the most assurance you could give. "Oh how I do wish it was time for tea!" Jervis almost whined to himself as the group headed upstairs. You had to follow them, you knew you did but the Batman was specific, focus on Jervis. Although you couldn't bring yourself to leave the building without those hostages guaranteed safety. You were also very conscious of the tracker attached to your shirt. If Batman entered through this floor, there was a chance the other three would catch on.

Maybe it was a terrible decision but it was what you came up with at the time. You'd have to follow them up there and you'd have to get Jervis to follow you. You considered getting his attention and making a run for the stairs but then you'd run into the other villains and the hostages. Then an idea struck you. If you could get Jervis' attention for a couple of minutes, letting those upstairs be settled and then come up there, they'd think nothing of it. Then your remembered Edward saying ten minutes. Ten minutes, you could do that.

You picked up a tiny stone from the doorway, it was small enough and heavy enough to make a noise but not too much noise as to alert upstairs. You tossed it and it bounced off the opposite wall with a 'clack'. It got Jervis' attention, you heard him approaching. "Little mouse? Little door mouse?" He stood at the door looking at the stairs before turning in the other direction. At the same time you moved forward before running off as quietly as you could. With some luck, he seemed to catch a glimpse of the blonde hair. "Alice!?" Jervis' voice rose slightly with excitement and wonder. He moved forward. He turned the corner and headed down the corridor, looking into a few rooms every so often. "Curiouser and curiouser!" He said in awe. "Alice, is that you?"

Minutes passed of you hiding and Jervis still hunting for you. Although he never ran towards you. That was odd but it seemed he was also growing more concerned that you weren't real meaning you'd have to take things up a notch. "Don't hide from me, Alice!" Jervis said weepily. " “Who am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!" You said passing the hallway before him. Jervis' face lit up. "Alice! It is you!" "Off with their heads!" You whispered loudly, the corridor carrying your voice. You waited until he was turning the corner before you turned another corner. Heading to the stairs.

You stood by the stairs waiting for him. As he turned the corner, he was almost taken aback that you didn't disappear. He slowed down, half way down the corridor and almost uncertain- trying to read your expression. "It is not time for tea yet, Alice..." You pressed a finger to your lips. "We're late, so very late..." You turned to the stairs hurrying up them but still trying to be quiet. "Alice! Come back!" You heard Jervis hurry after you. You quickly moved into another office, closing the door behind you, matching the others. This time hiding in a cupboard.

Jervis looked around, seeing nothing but dim corridors and closed doors. "Alice?" Jervis whispered in a singing voice. Suddenly Edward and Jonathan turned the corner before him. Edward sighed. "That was eight minutes but I suppose it's the best you can do." Edward rolled his eyes. He moved towards a new set of stairs whilst Jonathan lingered, his eyes on Jervis. Jervis quicky hushed him. "Alice is here!" "Jervis, we've been through this. Alice isn't here. She may be in wonderland." Jonathan replied with ease. "I must insist Mr Crane, we cannot delay! Alice is hiding! I haven't the slightest idea why!"

You slowly climbed out of the cupboard to see Batman watching you from the opposite building. He nodded to you, giving you the signal to get out. If Jervis follows you. It's a success but don't let anyone catch you. You nodded back before slowly opening the door. You quietly moved for the stairs that went downstairs but your blood ran cold when you found both Jonathan and Jervis down the hall in front of you, the stairs being to your right.

Jervis lit up in glee once again and you stood in complete fest, both Jonathan and Jervis staring at you. You should have made a run for it. You were internally screaming at yourself to move, but you didn't paralysed under their gazes. "Do you see Mr Crane!? Alice is here!" Jonathan's faces changed to a sinister smirk. "I do see Jervis." He responded as though talking to a child. You had to do something and fast. Words tumbled out before you could stop them. "Hatter, you didn't comply with the Red Queens demands." Jervis looked surprised, whether it was because you spoke or because of your statement, you couldn't be sure. "Demands!?" Jervis echoed in surprise. "Whatever do you mean, Alice!?" "The Red Queen ordered that you came alone, Hatter. It's a very important matter!" You responded. "I do not recall!" Whilst fear remained etched upon your features, you willed yourself to look more disappointed. "Now I have to go. Back to wonderland, I must go." Your hands moved to your neck. "The queen will have my head...I believe so." Jonathan chuckled marching forward. "Come with me Jervis, back to Wonderland. It's become quite strange." You said before sprinting for the stairs.

Within seconds Jervis and Scarecrow were outside the building, just in time to see you fall to the ground with a screech as Batman landed inches away from you. By the time you had unshielded your face, the two were out cold. You weren't sure what Batman had done to put them unconscious but you had no time to act as the GCPD, filed into the building guns at the ready but remaining quiet. "Floor three." You told Commissioner Gordon who led you into a police car. You moved for the make up wipes Gordon had kept for you, exhaustion overtaking you. Gordon, however, stopped you. "Sorry, (Y/N), I'm afraid you're not done yet. We'll need you to keep going in Arkham." "For what?" You asked. "Just trust us, it's Batman's idea. It won't be too long." You sighed. Almost immediately when you were asked to change into your next outfit. However you were exhausted. How did anyone, hero or villains do this almost every night? How did the Arkham staff deal with the criminally insane day in and out?

“Imbeciles!” Edward spat in annoyance. “Where were you!?” “Shut. Up.” Jonathan groaned rubbing his aching head. “The batman attacked us and we had an intruder. It turns out ‘Alice’ was very much real.” “What?” Two-Face grumbled. “We had company.” Jonathan replied gruffly. “Unbelievable!” Edward huffed. “Alice...” Jervis said weepily to himself. “Welcome back!” The Joker cried out before letting out a maniacal laugh. “Shut it, clown!” Two-Face snapped. “That was quick.” Someone else said, it sounded like it could have been Penguin.

With a series of buzzing the doors opened. Jervis' eyes widened as you came in. His Alice, you were still here! You were dressed in a nurses uniform, moving to his cell and stopping before the door. "Alice!" You shifted your weight uncomfortable as Jervis clambered to his feet, hands pressed against the cell door. "Alice! You're here!" "That's not Alice, you moron!" Edward snapped in annoyance from behind you. "That's the same person from back at the building. Jervis saw them." Jonathan smirked. "Well what the hell are they doing here!? Here to gloat!?" Edward said icily in response. "Alice-!" "Jervis." Jonathan interrupted with a firm tone. "That isn't Alice. They're fooling you. They're pretending." "We're all mad here." You said simply as though it would have made sense for a response. However Jervis seemed to believe it. "No, Mr Crane! I assure you! I know! I know! It's my dear Alice who has come to say hello!" "He's so stupid." Edward said to himself. Jervis looked around you, eyes narrowing on Edward. "There's no need to be rude! That's not the right attitude!" "Hatter?" You gained his attention once more. "You're my friend aren't you?" "A friend, a friend! A friend until the end!" "The Red Queen demands answers. It'll be off with my head if I don't have her answers." You continued. "I need to know what you were doing there...with them." "Don't tell them!" Edward said sharply. "It's a lie." Jonathan warned Jervis. Even Jervis looked uncertain so you tried harder. "Hatter." You reached out between the bars grabbing hold of his arm.

Jervis looked stunned and even you froze when you realised what you had done. "Hatter, I've trusted you since I met you. I need you to trust me." "Working for the Red Queen is trouble, dear Alice. This is what happens when you're without me." Jervis said, any childlike tones in his voice were long gone. You nodded. "When you're better, you'll be back. Until then...it's only for a little while. So please...please tell me, what your plan was?" "Jervis!" Jonathan snapped but Jervis didn't acknowledge him. "Mr Crane needed test subjects to test his new formula-" "Shut up!" Edward yelled. "Damn it to hell!" Jonathan seethed. "We're planning something big Alice. Perhaps after that, we can free you from the Red Queen!" Jervis finished. You nodded, pressing him to keep going. "Alice? Why did the Red Queen choose you?" It was fake, that you couldn't forget but you couldn't help but wonder the same thing. More specifically, why did the Batman choose you? You took a moment to respond. "For the same reason, a Raven is like a Writing desk." You said softly. "I haven't the faintest idea." You whispered.

"Do you enjoy playing mind games with someone who is mentally ill?" Jonathan, now sounding significantly more contained, asked you. You didn't look at him but he continued. "Or perhaps you won't be able to sleep tonight?" He was trying to guilt trip you. That you knew, you also knew it was working. You checked the pocket watch you had been given before stuffing it back in your pocket. Five minutes were up. You were out of time. "Gotta go." You said quietly. "Where?" Jervis looked alarmed. "I had to speak to you but I was only given so much time. Now it's time to go back to Wonderland." You gave him a small smile, turning on your heel and leaving. You felt Jervis' eyes on your back the entire time, until you were out of sight.

#batman #gotham #batman villains #Jervis Tetch #the mad hatter #reader #one shot #oneshot

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