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shawtuzi · 10 months

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i’m very extremely excited to post this so pls enjoy!! i read ‘jealous girl’ by @elsweetheart and immediately fell in love w basketball player!abby so this is pretty much inspired by that just not as much talk about basketball!! if u haven’t read any of her works i highly recommend literally every single on of them<33

wc: 4.1k

cw include: black coded fem!reader, basketball player!abby, abby wears rings—yes i think that deserves a warning, strap on usage, some teasing on abby’s part, talks of abby being a brat tamer, oral both kinda receiving??? (reader sucks abby’s strap idk whether that counts or not), a little choking n spitting, lots n lots of praise coming from both sides, talks of breeding, tiny bit of strength kink, a wee bit of aftercare—i think that’s about it so sorry if i missed anything!! (this is not proofread btw pls excuse any mistakes)

abby was a busy busy girl. between classes, basketball, training at the gym, and tending to her needy gf poor baby had her plate full all day everyday. but on rare occasions she pushed all that aside to make more time for you—the needy gf in question. she missed you terribly whenever she wasn’t around you so she could only imagine how you felt :((.

today she had decided to skip her two hour long training session at the gym and instead suggested the both of you go out for a picnic. you were ecstatic to say the least which brought a wide smile to her freckled face.

currently she was sitting on the plush pink couch in your living room while you were in your room getting dressed for the picnic. your parents had splurged and bought you an off campus apartment bc by god there was no way you’d be able to fit everything you wanted in those tiny dorm rooms. abby visited your apartment as much as she could or you’d make your way to campus to spend the night in her dorm that she thankfully had to share with no one. being the mvp of the basketball team came with a few good perks—sharing a room with no one being the best one.

“you ready to see my outfit?” your honey smooth voice called from your room. before abby could answer she heard the clicking of heels and the little taps of your kittens paws against the hardwood floor. you were wearing a short, white sundress with strawberries printed all around it. she eyed the white kitten heels you were wearing and made a mental note to grab a pair of more comfortable shoes for you to wear just in case the heels began to blister your feet.

“you look beautiful babydoll,” she smiled bringing her large hands to your hips, giving them a soft squeeze. god you were so pretty n soft. she honestly had half a mind to bend you over and eat your pussy from the back but she had a better idea. “i gotta grab something from your room real fast, how bout you give cinnamoroll some food before we go yeah?” she spoke referring to your fluffy, white rag doll kitten that was currently messing with the scratching post abby had bought for her as a gift. “you got it babe!” you obeyed her command and began opening a can of cat food for the kitty meanwhile abby was in your room rummaging around in the bedside dresser that was on her side until she found exactly what she was looking for.

once she was done she walked out to find you standing by the front door with a dopey smile on your face. she grabbed the wicker basket full of delicious treats you had prepared off the marble counter and you two were off! but not before abby made you triple check that you had your house key. there were three incidents where she had to help you break into your apartment bc you forgot your key and she was not about to make it a fourth. “you got everything you need doll? once i leave this complex i’m not turning around,” she said with the slightest bit of sternness in her voice. your eyes widened knowing by her tone she was serious so you quickly opened your purse to make sure you had all your belongings.

“let’s see…emergency lipgloss, eyelash glue, mini fan, second emergency lipgloss, my key, and…where is my—ohhere it is! yep i’m ready to go abs!” you said gleefully, grabbing abby’s hand to place it on it’s rightful place on your thigh. abby gave your thigh a loving squeeze before pulling out of your apartment complex. the drive was mostly quiet besides the radio playing in the background and you humming along to it. “you look very handsome today abs,” you spoke softly playing with the silver bands on her fingers. abby felt her cheeks flush when you called her handsome—if she had a dick it would for sure jump at your sweet compliment. “thank you angel ‘n you look gorgeous as always…my beautiful gorgeous girl,” she smiled bringing your hand to her lips to give your knuckles a sweet kiss.

you both finally made it to the park, the sun just minutes away from setting making the sky a pretty mixture of pink and orange. “oh it’s so beautiful out,” you swooned, pulling out your phone to take a picture of the sky. once you had taken a plethora of pictures—some of the sky and some of yourself, you walked over to abby and laced your fingers with hers. she picked the first open spot she saw and laid the pink plaid blanket out before setting the wicker basket down. she pulled out all the food while you watched the geese swim in the small lake in front of you, your chin tucked in your knees looking adorable as ever.

you settled on making the two of you chicken caesar wraps with sweet potato fries and two slices of homemade strawberry shortcake for dessert. “these are delicious y/n you’re quite the chef,” abby said wiping her mouth with the pink cloth napkins you’d packed as well. “oh abby i make these for you at least twice a week they can’t be that good anymore…although i did add a little bit of buffalo sauce this time,” you giggled, taking another bite of the wrap.

after finishing up all the food, not even leaving a crumb behind, you and abby just sat in silence basking in each others company. little did you know abby was becoming more sexually frustrated by the minute. that dress….that damn strawberry dress practically had her in shambles as she watched it slowly ride up your thighs with every little movement you made. “c’mere angel,” she grunted maneuvering your body to sit you on her lap. she thought you would’ve felt the little surprise she was hiding in her jeans but you still didn’t have a clue in the world :((.

while you were babbling about a new collar you had ordered for cinnamoroll abby was slowly but surely dying of horniness with each passing second. “it’s so cute it’s pink ‘n it had these silver rhinestones on it! i just know she’ll love….it,” you trailed off when you felt abby buck her hips up and that’s when you felt it. you craned your neck to look at her, your glossed up lips parted in disbelief. “you. did. not.” you gasped digging your freshly manicured nails into the denim of her jeans. “did what?” she asked with the sickest smirk on her on her lips.

it was no secret abby liked to wear her strap underneath her clothes but it was always in the privacy of her dorm or your apartment never in public. “abby…we can’t what if someone sees,” your voice was so scared and shaky it was too adorable. abby nuzzled her face into your neck inhaling the sweet smell of shea butter and coconut, “see you’re sounding like you don’t want this but i can feel your hips moving baby, you’re not as subtle as you think you are,” she chuckled against your neck pressing one, two, three kisses to the most tender spot. you were honestly in shock that she was indeed correct, your hips had suddenly grown a mind of their own and began grinding gently against the bulge in her jeans.

“o-okay okay! i want it….but not here. wan’ you to take me home and take your time with me,” you mewled arching your back just the slightest into abby’s chest. abby hummed in agreement, tapping your thigh softly as a sign for you to get up—which you did without a second thought. the two of you packed up the containers and blanket in silence before making your way to abby’s car. abby opened your door for you before going to her side, yet another idea hatching into her brain as she watched you pick at your dress. “babydoll,” she said her voice dropping an octave, “want you to do something for me while we drive back.” you turned your head to her, hearts practically appearing in your eyes as you listening to her every word very carefully.

abby undid her belt and you were about to object saying you wanted to savor the feeling of her at home, but before you could say anything she spoke up once more. “i know you wanna wait till we get home to fuck and we will, but until then you think you could suck me off while i drive?” oh shit. your lips parted as if you were going to say something but you just nodded making abby tisk and shake her head. “gotta here you say it out loud baby,” she said and you quickly replied with a shaky ‘yes i will.’ she hummed in content before unzipping her jeans, pulling out the violet eight inch silicone dildo that has ruined you more time than you could remember.

abby wrapped her hand around the back of your neck and pushed your head down till you were face to face with her strap. “go ahead don’t be shy s’not like you haven’t sucked my dick before,” she chuckled giving your cheek a rough pat. without a second thought you wrapped your lips around the tip giving it an experimental suck. “that’s my good girl,” abby sighed happily, patting your head gently before starting up her car.

your panties were soaked beyond belief it was sooo embarrassing. abby was the type that kept things strictly in the bedroom which you completely respected, so to see her so eager for you to suck her off while she drove had your pussy throbbing with need. of course abby knew she couldn’t physically feel your plump lips around the silicone but by god she swore she could feel your throat tighten with every bob of your head. “don’t be afraid to be sloppy baby,” she hummed running her calloused hands slowly up and down your back. you obeyed her command with a quickness and began using more spit, the lewd gluck gluck gluck sounds coming from your throat had her clit pulsing. she bucked her hips up just the slightest bit to give her clit some attention causing you to gag around the dildo. “shit— sorry baby i’ll be gentle,” she cooed apologetically, giving your head a loving pat.

before you knew it you were in front of your apartment much to your dismay. “alright babydoll let’s head in,” abby chuckled breathlessly. her cheeks were completely flushed and she was the tiniest bit sweaty despite the ac being on full blast the entire drive. when you lifted your head up you had a pout on your swollen lips making her laugh once again. “don’t worry angel once i fuck your soul out you can suck my dick n’ keep me warm in your mouth for as long as your pretty little self desires,” she gave your lips three kisses before tucking her strap back in her jeans. before she could open her door your hand gripped onto her hoodie, “promise?” you whispered, your voice the tiniest bit hoarse. abby smiled nodding her head.

“i promise.”

as soon as you stepped into your apartment abby pushed you against the counter, kissing you with so much love and wanted your knees nearly buckled. she moaned against your mouth, bucking her hips against yours. “this—this fucking dress goddamn. been driving me crazy since i saw you in it,” she groaned, bringing her hands to your breasts to give them a rough squeeze over the soft material. “abby,” you mewled at her aggressive touches.

“jump,” she mumbled against your lips and you wasted absolutely no time. you jumped up and her strong hands immediately caught you, pulling your body impossibly close against hers. abby kept mumbling out incoherent sentences to herself so quietly all you could here was something about you being ‘so pretty’ whispered over and over again until her knees knocked against the end of your bed. abby gently laid you down taking a moment to admire you in your current state. you had the biggest fucking pout on your lips and your hands were gripping onto the fluffy blanket beneath you. every couple of seconds your legs would spread a little wider making abby smirk.

“pull your dress up for me a bit,” she commanded, running her hands gently up and down your thighs. you quickly pulled your dress up past your thighs giving abby a mouthwatering view of your pink cotton panties. “well what do we have here?” she grinned, running her thumb over the embarrassingly large wet spot on your panties. you didn’t give her a direct answer, instead whining out a pathetic ‘abby’ that boosted her ego even more. you huffed, pushing yourself up on your elbows. “c’mon don’t be a tease i thought you were supposed to be taking care of me,” your tone was borderline bratty but abby decided to let it slide since it had been days since she last properly took care of you.

“you’re right m’sorry baby,” she gave your thigh a soft kiss and then another until she slowly but surely made her way to where you needed her most. you felt her nudging at your clit with her nose and your impatience was definitely getting the best of you. “c’monnn abby just—o-oh god!” you squealed when you felt abby begin to lick and suck at your pussy over your panties. she had felt so close yet so so far it was driving you bonkers. “what’s with the face?” she chuckled against your pussy knowing good and damn well what your problem was. “s’not enough i-i need more. give me more please?” abby could’ve gotten a toothache from how sickeningly sweet your voice was.

abby wrapped her fingers around the waistband of your panties, giving your covered clit one more kiss before pulling them down. she tossed the garment aside and threw your thick thighs over her broad shoulders, staring you down like she was about to eat you whole. “look at my girl using her manners, taught you well didn’t?” she spit on your clit, making your hips jolt. abby was good at a lot of things: basketball, academics, cooking, anything that had to do with cars but at the top of the list in your opinion was her ability to brat tame. before she met you you were as spoiled as they came and although she found it quite hilarious watching you throw temper tantrums over nothing it got old very quick. so whenever you decided to act like a brat with her she made no hesitation to bend you over her and lap and spank you until you were blubbering out apologies and promises that you’d stop being such a damn brat.

the first time it happened caught you completely off guard. she had said something along the lines of you being too spoiled for your own good to which you replied that she was stupid and didn’t know what she was talking about. suddenly you felt a quick, but very rough smack against your ass making you gasp. “watch your mouth yeah?” was all she said, now rubbing her hand against the burning skin. that was only the tip of the iceberg but we’ll go to that another time let’s get back to the smut shall we!!

by now abby’s tongue was moving sloppily against your pussy while three of her thick fingers pumped in and out of you with vigor. you were bucking your hips up every time her fingers brushed up against that spit that had your toes curling, but she just pushed your right back down eventually using a little more strength than she usually did with you to keep you planted against the bed. “feel s’good abs. can’t wait to have your dick in me n’ feel you in my stomach,” you weren’t a hundred percent sure what was coming out of your mouth, the feeling of abby’s fingers fucking into you already making you go a little dumb.

abby groaned against your pussy, pulling away just the slightest bit to spit on your clit before diving back in. she was being so fucking sloppy the noises of her lips smacking against your pussy would’ve made you embarrassed if you were actually focused. “taste so good honey i could stay down here for hours,” abby mumbled before taking her fingers out making you whimper from the loss. you had a complaint sitting right on your tongue but it quickly disappeared once you felt abby’s tongue begin to prod at your tight entrance.

abby had tongue fucked you into three orgasm before you were finally begging her to fuck you with her strap. she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand before standing to her full height making you feel incredibly small. she removed the plain black hoodie she was wearing along with her jeans, leaving her in a gray wife beater and black boxers. she walked over to her side of the bed and opened up the bedside drawer till she found a small bottle of lube. “i think i stretched you out enough but can’t be too sure, don’t wanna hurt you or anything,” she spoke softly giving you a sweet smile. she rubbed the lube up and down the length of the dildo as you watched intently, the sight of her veiny hands stroking it had your thighs squeezing together.

she walked back over to you and grabbed your legs pulling you to the edge of the bed. “ready?” she whispered tapping the fat tip against your clit and you quickly nodded, using your feet to push her body closer to your. abby slowly pushed the tip in and it was a good thing she used the lube, even after getting three orgasms out of you and using three of her fingers on you you were still a tight fit. “kiss me please,” you whimpered, clutching onto abby’s wife beater. she obliged and smashed her lips against yours. she was slowly but surely pushing the rest of her strap inside you, rubbing tight little circles on your clit to ease the sting of her stretching you out.

she finally bottomed out and you had never felt more content in your entire life being caged between her muscly arms as she gave you pleasure others could only dream about (it’s me i’m others). abby glanced down and her pussy clenched around nothing at the sight of yours struggling to take every inch she had to offer you. “wow, f-fuck you really have the prettiest pussy don’t you doll? all for me yeah? no one else?” she pulled out halfway before slamming back into you making your body jolt. “y-yes abby s’all yours please keep going,” abby didn’t need to be told twice that’s for damn sure. she folded your knees to your chest and began putting in some serious work, not even bothered that the force of her thrusts had her thighs slapping against yours so hard her thighs were turning a dark shade of pink.

her hand wrapped around your throat squeezing with a little pressure, the coolness of her rings felt so good against your skin that was practically on fire. “so…so good abby s-so fuckin’ good,” you slurred, bringing your hands up to cup her face. her cheeks were flushed pink and her hair was sticking to her forehead that had a light sheen of sweat over it. “look s’handsome too you look so good,” there you went again calling her handsome, it was almost like you wanted her to fuck you until your bones were jelly.

it didn’t take long for your fourth orgasm to hit you like a truck, the shriek you let out nearly scaring poor cinnamoroll to death as she was sitting oh so comfortably on the couch. “yeah that’s right gimme another one c’mon baby,” abby grunted, gripping your cheeks in her hand before giving your face a rough slap. out of the corner of her eye she saw something move and glanced over to see cinnamoroll watching the two of you go at it like rabbits. “w-what’s wrong why’d you stoppp?” you whined tapping on her bulging biceps. abby blinked a few times before turning her attention back to you, “the cats watching,” was all she said makinf your brows furrow. you craned your neck and there was your kitten witnessing everything. you gasped covering your face with your hands, “go shut the door she doesn’t need to see her mommies doing this!” you cried shaking your head in disbelief. abby felt her heart swell a little when she heard you refer to you both as cinnamorolls ‘mommies.’

abby carefully pulled out, quickly making her way to the door to shut it but not before muttering a sorry for shutting the door in the poor kittys face. she turned around and nearly fell to her knees when she saw you were in a new position. you’d stripped yourself of your dress and were face down ass up, slightly wiggling your hips in a way to signal her you were ready to take her once more. “you’re a goddamn dream,” she muttered, gripping the fat off your ass in her hands before giving it three quick smacks. with no warning she pushed herself in to the hilt, making quick work to grab your hips so you wouldn’t collapse from the force. she set her knee of the bed before making a steady rhythm, the squelching of your pussy making her clit pulse. fortunately in this position the harness brushed her clit in the most delicious way possible, unfortunately though it was causing her thrusts to be a little sloppy.

she pulled you up by your neck, pressing your back against her chest. “tell me you love me,” she grunted resting her forehead on your shoulder. you mumbled out a weak ‘i love you’ but it wasn’t enough for her. she was hitting the right spots and it was making your brain so damn foggy you could barely think! not to mention your orgasm was creeping closer and closer :(. “say it louder,” she growled tightening her grip on your neck. you said it once more but it still wasn’t enough and abby was absolutely fed up. she brought her lips close to your ear before saying, “i swear to everything that is holy if you don’t scream that shit i’m gonna pull out and make you hump my shoe to get off.” her words were enough to make you cum on the spot, loud shouts of ‘i love you abby!’ echoing throughout your apartment.

abby held your body close as she continued to grind against you chasing her own orgasm. “motherfuck—shit y-you feel so good baby, so good for daddy like always,” she whined against your shoulder. she relished in the aftershocks of her orgasm before slowly pulling out of you once more. you flopped against the bed, groaning from soreness already. you turned on your back and quickly shuffled underneath the covers waiting patiently for abby to return from cleaning up the strap on. she returned shortly with a dopey smile on her face. you weakly lifted up the blanket signaling for her to join you which she happily obliged, gently maneuvering her body on top of yours so she was able to lay on your chest without crushing the rest of your body.

“i think…that was the best sex we’ve ever had,” you sighed dreamily, running your fingers through her hair that was no longer in its signature braid. she was about to speak when you both heard a little feet tap against the floor and automatically knew who it was. “my poor baby c’mere,” you pouted tapping the spot next to you on the bed. cinnamoroll was quick to jump on the bed and nuzzle into your neck purring contently. “so sorry you had to see that your poor eyes,” you cooed to the cat like this wouldn’t happen again in the future. abby chuckled shaking her head at how silly you were being, “you’re too cute babydoll…and to follow up with what you said before: that was the best sex we’ve had yet.”

trust and believe abby was already planning out the many positions she was going to put you in once you both gained some energy back hehe.

#abby anderson smut #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x black!reader #abby anderson x female reader #tlou smut #tlou imagine #the last of us smut #the last of us imagine #abby anderson tlou2

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the-kr8tor · 10 months

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(Un)Lucky

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Blackcat! GN Reader / Spider-Punk x Blackcat! GN Reader

Word count: 1.9k

Tags: FBW, smut Implied, TW blood, TW violence, TW death, cursing, hurt/comfort. No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader. Idiots in love.

Synopsis: Unlucky in life, unlucky in love. You question your situationship with Spider-Punk.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Black silhouetted shadows dance around the moon lit mansion, your feet expertly landing on the marbled floors without a sound. Slinking around the fancy beige colored furniture, your focus is on one thing – The safe hidden behind a large modern painting, how very cliché you thought. Swiftly dodging security cameras by climbing up the ceiling using your manicured claws, you finally drop down next to a large pair of concrete doors. You raise your brow at how atrocious it looks compared to the colorful modern paintings you've seen around the mansion.

"God, I hate brutalist architecture" you whispered to no one.

Bringing out your index finger, you admire your sharp claws for a second before bending down to pick the door's lock. You feel the soft leather of your suit expand at your movement. But before you could pick the lock, you felt a presence behind you. Stopping for a brief moment to slowly grab one of your throwing knives, unclipping it from its holster - you fling it at the presence behind you.

The figure hanging upside down from the ceiling catches the knife's handle gracefully before it could stab him in the face. He lets it fall to the ground, impaling the oak table below.

"Woah, Don't mind me just enjoying the view" the spikes on top of his mask shine in the moonlight, bathing his suit in a soft blue light.

"Of course it's you, hello to you too, beanpole" You scoff at his appearance, Pretending to be annoyed.

Spider-punk drops from his web, softly landing on his feet. "I'm offended, after our last encounter I thought we're past the mean nicknames" He detaches the knife embedded into the table and plays with it.

"Oh so that's why you're here, you missed me, web-slinger" your voice saccharin smooth as you confidently stride towards him, your hand reaching out to him, non-verbally asking for your knife back.

"In your dreams, love. The owner hired me to watch over his place, you've been hitting a lot of his friends' places, he figured he's next" he says with a scoff.

Instead of the knife, Hobie puts his hand on your waiting one, You stare at your joined hands, and raise your eyebrows questioningly. Your eyes soften as the whites of his mask widen at his realization.

"I beg to differ, you dork" you smirk at him.

He lets go of your hand, and puts the knife on your palm. Hobie's thankful you can't see his face, albeit he still stares at you directly, challenging you to have a go at him like you usually do, you can definitely do better than call him a dork. But you don't for some odd reason.

Putting the knife back in its place you turn your back at him, you continue working at the lock. You bend down again.

"Fuck'n hell, love" he unashamedly groans at the sight of you.

Fully aware of his eyes on your ass. It doesn't bother you, quite the opposite actually, you liked the attention he's giving you, and dare you even say you like the guy. But the words 'I don't like labels' echoes in your mind. You don't like it either, you liked just having fun with him, but the memories of your last encounter with the man behind you keeps playing in your mind.

The way he kissed and touched you that night, it felt different, a good difference, you think. The entire time It felt like there was an underlying emotion other than lust prevailing that fateful night. You have no idea how to make sense of your situation, or how to feel about him. So you do what you always do, shelf it in the back of your mind, keep piling similar memories on top of it, until one day it bursts out of you like Vesuvius. Hopefully no one's there with you to witness it when it finally happens.

"Oi, cat got your tongue?" His voice snaps you back to reality. You can't see his face with your back turned but you imagined him with a smirk under his mask, the same way you imagined what he would look like. You've only seen the bottom half of his face, the same way he's only seen your face clad in your domino mask.

"I'm busy" you bite back as you feel for the mechanism to finally unlock with a click.

"Right, no cat puns when working" he says.

You push the heavy doors, satisfaction on your face. You look over your shoulder to look at him.

"If you're gonna web me and sell me out to your boss just do it already" you pointedly tell him.

"As much as I'm into the first part, it's a no to the last bit" His comment gets ignored.

You head inside the office, with Hobie not far behind. You glare at the expansive yet unnecessary room.

The room's marble flooring is covered in various animal furs, the walls lined with tacky paintings of the owner. A few of the paintings show the greedy man hunting wild animals, you glare at the painting as if your eyes would suddenly cause it to combust into flames.

"With all the money in the world, he couldn't hire an interior designer?" Hobie grimaces at the various décor around the room. "No cameras" he pointed out.

"Probably to cover his shady dealings with Roxxon" you tell him.

"Tsk, nasty, nasty old man." Hobie finally looks at you taking down the huge painting to reveal the large metal safe.

He sighs annoyed at your attitude. "Y'know me, cat, I would never actually help people this rich, hell I'd even help you if you asked"

"Why'd you take the job then?" You ask as you try to crack the safe's code.

Hobie leans against the doorway watching you. "Unfortunately we live in a capitalist society, and I need money to eat. He didn't ask me to catch you anyway, just watch the place. No matter how much I want to burn down this bloody eyesore" And I was hoping to see you again. He also wanted to add.

You didn't bother to reply, you hum at his explanation. You hear the satisfying click of the safe's lock finally unlocking. Why was it so easy?

"What's up with the stick up y –" He cuts himself off.

His spidey-sense kicks in. Everything seems to be moving in slow motion for Hobie, a wave of red hot fear floods his entire body as he sees you slowly open the safe. His mind seems to be stuck in the moment, thankfully his body moves with muscle memory, he swiftly moves away from the doorway, one hand reaches out to web you towards him, his other hand reaches behind him, he webs the wall to pull you both out the room.

The subsequent explosion can be heard, smoke and ashes fill his vision. The once heavily decorated room now looks like ground zero.

Hobie's ears are ringing, but he doesn't care, he needs to find you. His eyes pull towards the room where they were both in. The large concrete doors closed, their edges burned from the explosion. The force from the explosion must've closed it.

The heavy doors accidentally saved them, he didn't have time to think how it happened, he just needed to find you, he needed to know that you were okay.

He screams your alias with a gutteral screech. Hobie stands up, his stance wavers but he continues on. He winces when some of his blood gets into his eye, realizing his mask now torned up from the side, only hiding half of his face. His eyes roam around the damaged mansion looking for your figure, his eyes stop once again to the concrete doors.

His heart sinks at his realization.

"No, no, no!" He limps towards the large doors.

He didn't notice if his web actually reached you in time to pull you both out.

He pulled and pushed at the comically large doors. It doesn't move.

Hobie's mind plays tricks on him, he keeps seeing in his mind's eye - your charred body, skin turned to ash, eyes burned into your sockets, your jaws permanently set in a scream. His own mind mocks him. Hobie ignores the vision. He kicks and screams for the doors to magically open.

He has no idea how long it has been since the explosion, with his ears still ringing, smoke and dust clinging around the room. His hope dwindles.

Hobie falls to his knees, eyes unblinking and wide, crimson seeps from the cut on his head. He ignores it and just stares blankly at the gray doors.

It was his fault.

He can't believe he left you, he was too slow. Of all the people in the world why you. Memories of you keep playing in his mind, trying to push away the image of your death.

In his stupor he doesn't notice a shadow enveloping him, arms finding its way to his shoulder hugging his twitching form. For a second he thought you were haunting him.

He finally gets a grip on reality and looks behind his shoulder.

Your domino mask now clinging to one side, mirroring his own damaged mask. Blood seeps from the side of your cheek. Your eyes are dull but open.

Your eyes are open.

He turns around lightning fast, Hobie clings to you like velcro. His shoulders sag from the relief, as if he can finally breathe again. You sigh at the contact, and let out a small laugh.

"Oi, what's so funny" he pulls away from you slightly, he looks at your head to assess the damage.

"I'm not brain damaged," you smile at his concern, you grab his face, cradling it. "I'm fine, we're both fine, you saved me" you look at each other, affection prominent in every crevice of your bodies.

You both now have a clear view of each other's faces.

"You look better than I imagined," he softly says.

You giggle at his comment "And you look so much cooler than I thought, it's unfair, I thought I was the cool one"

"I was this cool the whole time" he teases.

You grab his neck to carefully put your foreheads together. To calm the lingering tension from it, you rub circles on his skin, In turn Hobie cranes his neck to look at your lips asking for permission. You nod and let him ground you both back to reality with his kiss.

Hobie reluctantly pulls away "Let's go before they find us, yeah?" He helps you stand up. "You up for a swing 'round the city?"

You give him your signature smirks "your place or mine?"

"Yours" he grabs your waist. "There's a first time for everything right?"

"Oh you're gonna love my cats" You smile wildly, you don't know if your face hurts from the cut on your cheek or from smiling too much.

He memorizes the look on your face as if, all of this was just a dream, and he'll forget what you looked like once he wakes up. He grabs you by the waist, and swings out of the wreckage. Just in time before sirens could get closer to the mansion.

As you swing away towards your home, you think about where your relationship currently lies. There might not be a label for your relationship yet, or what this all means in the future. But at least now you know how he truly feels, how you feel.

As for the bastard who tried to blow you both up, revenge can wait, for she is patient.

You'll think about everything later, but right now you enjoy the moment as you cling to him.

A/n: Hope you enjoyed reading it! Likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated ♥️

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk #spider punk x reader #atsv fanfiction #hobie brown #spider man across the spider verse #spiderman across the spiderverse #x reader #hobie brown x gn!reader #spider punk x gn! reader #tw blood #tw violence #Hobie brown x blackcat!reader #Spider-punk x blackcat!reader #fanfic #the kr8tor's creations #tw death

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sherwees · 4 months

Text

everything-is-fine-maybe-not-but-whatever (sequel to cflwasd)

cw : major character death, NONCON, violence, detailed-ish murder(s), kidnapping, torture, usage of drugs to knock out reader, descriptions of inflictions (bruises and scars) and just overall fucked shit.

side note : that one clip of Hendery saying “So pretty.” got me through this and I'll link it in the fic.

extra side note : ty for @ne0pearl and @imeunseoksbby for giving me this whole idea!! I tried not to disappoint.

Your mind maybe processed the rushing footsteps coming towards you along with the warmth of Hendery's cock leaving you but you definitely heard a strangled grunt from Hendery with a thud to the wall.

You fixed yourself or at least tempted to but seeing the scene of Hendery's face turning pale with Eunseok's unrelenting grasp on his neck from your peripherals irked you to do something. You were used to not interfering with Eunseok's usual quarrels with whomever.

Swinging your purse on your shoulder, you're met with Eunseok's dead stare with tears brimming, he seemed mad but actually upset for once. Hendery's veins protruded out of his hand as he slid up the wall, teeth clenched in hopes to control his breathing; his other hand fixing his crooked waistband to his underwear.

“Please go outside..” Eunseok says, tilting on one foot to grab his beanie from the ground.

You still and stare.

“Go. Outside.” His head was now turned to you and his voice cracked on the last word, he now shut his eyes with seething anger.

“But Kunhang–”

He slams the side of his fist to a wall, leaving a dent. “I DON'T GIVE A FLYING FUCK ABOUT– Just go outside.” He then smoothes his beanie out, huffing. Only then, you rush out the door; the summer heat causing your shirt to cling onto your body once more.

This was the only moment you could appreciate your house only being a block away, you could make it home fast and prepare for what he was going to do in a few.

You could only lay under your gray blanket, looking dejectedly at the scars on your thighs; lifting your thigh to observe the crimson heart from only a few minutes before. Hearing the door slam, you scrambled to run to the bathroom with an ache in your chest.

You grasped the oval pendant on your neck with a wince, sliding down the door with a sob until you heard calmer footsteps from the living room. The pendant now laid in your hand, the same pendant you honed on the marble basement floors when you were so fed up from the arguing, you wanted to kill the man.

You wanted to check but it might've been a trick just waiting to hit so you didn't even bother to peek outside until curiosity hit when you heard Eunseok's footsteps and a creak to the bed.

What?

Eunseok's gaze met your scared own immediately.

“Eunnie?” You mumbled.

“My sweet girl.” He rasped from the edge of the bed, arms wrapping around you once you came over with a weak crooked smile from his bleeding lip. The purple and blue splotches blooming amongst his neck and the slight tear at his shirt's neckline, your eyes widened in concern whilst you hugged his neck; smelling his strong cologne from his grey shirt whilst smoothing your hand to his torso.

He sighed, “Now what am I going to do with you..”

There was a sudden steel grasp to the base of your neck; Eunseok's veins leading from his shoulder to his forearm strained against the thin shield of tan skin. The spit accumulating in your narrowed esophagus caused you to kick and scratch at his back. Eunseok's eye twitched, his tense expression falling at once.

You felt something warm on your shirt... sticky.. He coughed concerningly enough to finally make you stare at the maroon emerging and painting his ribs. A profound narrow wound seemed to be stretching from his back to his center; It couldn't be?

Horror and concern jumped at your nerves, “No, no, no.” you murmured as Eunseok's eyes went dull, pupils expanded once he laid beside you. His eyes flickering from your frantic hands grabbing and gripping his shirt to the snot lining your upper lip, lips contorted as spit flew from the power of your strained cords.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck” You straddled him into a hug, rocking his soon lifeless body as the blood spread on the sheets below you. His exposed rib knicked and scratched at your own, his heartbeat slowing at the rhythm of your curses.

It was now silent.

You couldn't even call the cops.

Feeling a sharp sensation poke into your palm, opening it there laid, your oval pendant, stained with blood.

You tossed and turned, what the fuck were you doing with a body only a few meters away, your significant other. You needed somewhere to go, he started to decay and every moment you checked on him; his skin got paler.

You couldn't take it. You then scowl and jump up to yank Eunseok's coat off the rack, his warm scent shooting up your nose; something to remember for some time. Where were you walking actually? was the only thing you thought whilst mindlessly walking through the quiet roads. The cold air brushed your exposed and torn knees, the street lights seemed a blur until you stopped at the same wooden door coincidentally.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

Your fist felt sore.

You bit your lip, enough for blood to draw. Your finger tips feathered the cold knob in hesitation, taking a shaken breath, you swung it open; the wind aiding it creepily.

One step.

Two steps.

Three–

“I've been waiting for you.” The grave voice scared you to the core, causing you to stop on your heel comically with a jagged breath. Stilling with a sigh, shoulders hunched as the door shut behind you with your coat sliding off slightly.

Hendery let out an exasperated grunt as his slender fingers trailed around your now-trembling shoulders. His pads rubbing smooth circles into your shoulders to soothe you, you felt like a statue within his presence once he turned you slowly. His eyes focused on your dismal ones as you attempted to look away at the sight of the red outline of Eunseok's fingers.

“There's no need to be ashamed baby, it's just a little boo-boo.” He coaxed in your ear, using his backhand of his navy sleeve to move your strands from your pretty face.

“You need to calm down, come with me.” In a trance, you did. You were mesmerized by his sweet voice down the hallway, the darkness didn't concern you until you felt a smooth, comfortable surface that laid behind you. Your eyes darting around the room until a cool air of wind hit your sweaty forehead, the moonlight then alluded through Hendery's window; illuminating half of his face. His eyes low and gazing deep into your own, his lips parted and plump.

You then felt something poke at your neck and a force, the substance causing you to go limp, your peripherals went black and you could only focus at Hendery's smirk tug at the corner of his lips. He waved his hand in your face, wincing at the pain forming in your retina; it was now that every time you would blink, it would hurt.

“So pretty~” was the only thing you heard until you fell into the abyss.

“How long has it been?” You mumbled as you scratched at your knees. You could barely remember what you've done in the past 24 hours, he hasn't been down here for about 3 days. The insanity nearly consumed your soul into nothingness, you started seeing figures run across the dimly lit room and noises from the corner. You only spoke back once and now he was overdoing it.

Did he want you to suffer? You now raised your knees to your chest but the shock of pain and exhaustion from the scabs and scars and days of starving just made you go limp. Raising your attention to something else, you stared at the jeans, jackets, stuffed animals, sweatshirts that Hendery considered “gifts” and lied saying that they were brand new. They were all Eunseok's but when you questioned him, he left for a few weeks but then brought a decaying finger in a bag just to leave you in hysterics.

Leading you to go into straight havoc; shredding clothes, ripping the stuffed animals and doing anything to get his attention but you eventually regretted it once he screamed at you for an hour about your ungratefulness and that you were going to be buried and forgotten right alongside your scum of a boyfriend.

The thought of being forgotten still itched the crevices of your mind till this day.

You wriggled your skirt off with scathed digits, the same one stained with the blood of your dead lover to examine your blemishes, fading and new. The bile raised at your throat and the tears overflowed your waterline as you copied Hendery's trail that he made on that same fateful day. You regained the feeling of your legs fully because of the pain that he inflicted on your lower region in general. Just being stubborn got you here and now you couldn't even escape, the times your punishments got worse just for “disobeying” him.

The times that you were paralyzed as he pounded his anger into you as his gruff voice would just spit all types of curses in your ear with his nails leaving prints in your plush thighs, when he would shove some type of pill down your throat just to wake up to an ache in your abdomen just to raise your shirt; met with scars and engravings of profanity, he even hyper extended your arm to make sure you were defenseless against him.

Footsteps came from above.

Locks twisted from the door that your eyes were glued on since the beginning of your stay, something warm flowed through your stomach. The excitement shooting an unexpected grin to your face, he's treated you so well, what could go wrong?

The light peaking from the door for a quick second then fading away. You didn't even notice Hendery walking over until he placed a harsh kick to your side, your legs went numb again.

“What did I tell you about ignoring me–”

“But I'm not.” You interrupted sternly but immediately shooting your hands up in front of your face with a whimper once he raised a hand.

“Still flinching? You know I'm not him.. I'm your true love.” He lowered to your level in a squat, the scar on his eyebrow fading from a previous struggle. You never realized you were spaced out until he boomed a “Hey!”, your attention back on the fuming eyes of his; causing you to shrivel away a bit.

“I believe I have a gift for you, I know you'll love it~” Hendery singsonged the last part of his sentence with a hug as he was now on his knees. “Sometimes, I think about knocking you up.. S’ you could be mine forever ya’ know.” The color drained from your face, your teary orbs meeting Hendery's intimidating ones.

“Come on~” He whined like a kid, his willful expression meeting your sore eyes. The pads of his finger were cold once they made contact with your shoulders, trembling.

“Imagine a little you and me running around our happy little home! I mean just think about it..” His tone becomes as soft as his other hand trailing up and down your thigh, massaging it.

“But I don't think I can.” You blubbered, looking down in shame.

“But you will.” Hendery swiftly pulled out something from his slacks, you could barely react once the familiar stinging of a needle penetrated your skin. Only a hiss could emit from your mouth as your body laid slack, everytime you would move your head even a bit; shapes flooded your vision.

“Y’ think you could talk back?” He manhandled you to the floor, the force felt painfully numb to your hipbone. The sound of a zipper resounded off the walls, your cries felt stuck like a cork in your throat. This might've been the end, you were weak and you felt as brittle as lead.

“You must've been just waiting for me, honey?” His digit toyed with your pantie line then shoved it down, you let out a miniscule screech once his cock nudge at your impaired hole. His tip then exceeded slowly into your heat, his hand slowly trailed up to your jaw gripping it as he lowered his upper half to your back.

“So fuckin’ tight, just how I remembered.” He choked in your ear, his pace became feverish as your face rubbed on the ground. You felt the life leave your body moderately, mumbling a “Kunhang, please..” as your fists closed and clenched.

“Fuck, you're bleedin’ but you'll stay f’ me alright?” He teased in your ear but slapped one of your bruises, causing you to discharge more blood on his member.

You missed the fine breezes from when Eunseok would take you on a walk at a forest preserve as an apology after hurting you similarly but only this time; nobody could save you from the inevitable coming closer with every blink.

You missed him so much.. His topaz eyes that matched his pretty wisps of hair and that same basketball jersey with his name embroidered on it but you'll never see him again.. alive.

But now, the only memories you had of him were fading with your own life.

#nct smut #kpop smut #smut #wayv smut #nct scenarios #riize smut #eunseok smut #hendery smut #nct drabbles #hendery scenarios #hendery x reader #eunseok x reader

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copias-girl · 1 year

Text

Pamper Your Papa Part III (Papa IV x Reader)

•••

A/N: After not very much contemplation from me and a lot of enthusiasm from my ghestie @sucharide I decided to go for it and write a third instalment for this because I’m still hung up on the idea doing *actual* facials with Copia! So get ready for some spicy flirting and fluff! More smut will be in chapter 4! 🖤 Btw sorry I was so late uploading this, I got busy with school!

(Also when I picture Copia with no makeup why do I still picture him with the black around his eyes?? lmaoo)

Read Part I HERE Part II HERE and Part IV HERE

•♥︎♥︎♥︎•

“Satanas, calm down, Papa, I’m talking about actual facials this time.” You giggled, walking into the man’s papal suite with him in tow.

“But amoreeeee, my cum on your face is an actual facial.” He pouted, gazing at you quite convincingly with those big mismatched puppy dog eyes.

“We just fucked in the confessional, how are you still horny?” You teased him, rounding on him once the door clicked closed behind you. You smoothed your fingers over his chest and shoulders as his gloved hands skimmed up up up your thighs and waist, going back down again and grabbing two big handfuls of your ass, eliciting a yelp from you as he pulled your hips flush to his.

“I suppose it is, how do you say, the effect you have on me, dolcezza.” Copia growled, causing you to let out a little whine and bite your lip. Oh, how this man could tease you, how he could wind you up so tightly until you were nothing but a dripping mess, squirming and begging for him.

You both could work each other up into a hot, feverish frenzy, often making love for hours and hours on end until the two of you were so sticky and tired and fucked out; hair messy, eyes bleary, minds dizzy and foggy and full of bliss from one too many orgasms.

You almost gave into him just then, almost forgot all about your real spa night in turn for another evening of delicious lust with your Papa. And he realized it. He could see it in your eyes, the way he had gotten you all worked up. But that’s when he smirked and released you from his sinful hold.

“Alas, I do need to take care of my complexion.” He stated simply, gently brushing his gloved fingertips against his cheek.

“You’re such an asshole sometimes, old man.” You playfully swatted at him, rolling your eyes.

“Ehh?? Don’t wound Papa’s heart, cara mia.” Copia pouted, kissing your cheek and melting your heart. “Besides, now you know how it feels. You were a very naughty girl today, flustering Papa in front of everyone like that. Making my cock so hard. It’s a wonder I even had enough restraint to wait and drag you into the confessional, tesoro.” He purred, hand rubbing little circles on your lower back. “I should have just fucked you right there on the altar, in front of everyone and under the watchful gaze of our Dark Lord. That way, they all could have seen what a good little slut you are for me. For your Papa.” He said quite matter-of-factly, but his voice was dripping with lust as he articulated each word in that sinful Italian accent of his.

“Oh yeah? Maybe next time you should, old man.” You squared up with him, so close that the tips of your noses were brushing together.

“Hm. Perhaps I will.” The man chuckled with a little smirk, eyes flicking down to your kissable lips before meeting your gaze once again. Fuck, Copia just couldn’t help it; when you acted like that towards him, it really got him going.

“Well, I won’t keep our spa night waiting any longer, dolcezza.” He spun away from you, sheer black cape whirling dramatically as he made his way to the ensuite. “Do with me what you will.” He out stretched his arms in a flourish, taking a seat at the vanity.

You skipped over to him, taking out all the spa stuff you had been waiting to use with him. You were so excited, laying out all the items on the shiny black marble. Mud masques, sheet masques, jelly under-eye pads, gel lip masques, facial serums, and last but not least, your rose quartz face roller, which was a personal favourite of Copia’s.

He grinned endearingly, seeing you so enthusiastic. You seemed like a little girl whose father just agreed to letting her do his makeup. Satanas, he loved you so fucking much. You were just so cute.

“Alright!” You clasped your hands together. “First we have to take your paint off.” You smiled, grabbing the makeup remover and cotton pads, coming to straddle his lap where he sat at the vanity. He let out a little huff as you hopped right onto his lap, his hands settling on your waist as he looked up at you.

You took his black cornette hat off, placing it atop your own head, making Copia chuckle at how it was a little big for you.

“Ok, here we go.” You said, soaking a cotton pad in makeup remover and then beginning to gently smooth it over your Papa’s face. He looked so elegant like this, with his pretty face tilted up towards you.

He gazed up at you, awestruck by your beauty, smiling a bit at the concentrated look on your face as you removed his paint little by little.

You changed the cotton pad every so often, getting a fresh one soaked and ready to go, rubbing it over his cheeks, lips, nose. He closed his eyes when you removed the paint there, looking absolutely angelic. Your Papa always looked so pretty and angelic with his eyes closed.

“All done.” You told him, punctuating your sentence by giving him a quick kiss on the lips.

Copia’s mismatched eyes fluttered open and he looked into the mirror, checking out your handiwork. “Ahh, very good, amore mio. You do such a good job for your Papa.” He smiled sweetly, kissing your cheek.

Your heart fluttered at his praise, rubbing your nose against his before hopping off his lap and running into the bedroom. You set his cornette on his dresser and grabbed some loungewear for the both of you.

Walking back into the bathroom, you threw Copia’s at him and started to strip your clothes off. He couldn’t help but stare at you, eyes roaming up and down your form as you took all your clothes off, and he swallowed hard.

You noticed his eyes on you and you playfully stuck your tongue out at him, shaking him from his daze.

He smiled sheepishly when you caught him staring, scrambling to get up and start changing as well. He took off layer after layer, putting on his VVLGARI t-shirt, sweatpants, and hoodie, as well as slipping on his more casual gloves, the ones he always wore with this outfit.

All you slipped on was one of Papa’s pyjama shirts, black silk with ‘IV’ embroidered in gold thread just above the breast pocket. It matched your black and gold lace panties, and was long enough to just cover your ass, so you didn’t bother putting any bottoms on.

“I hope some of this stuff is anti-aging, dolcezza.. I’m so old.” Copia groaned as he sat at the vanity, looking into the mirror and resting his chin in his hand.

“What are you talking about, Papa?” You frowned, coming to stand behind him and looking at his reflection.

“I.. I have so many wrinkles, tesoro…” He sighed with a sad laugh. “I think I really do need this spa night.”

“Papa, we’ve talked about this. You know I love the way you look. You know how you make me feel.” You pouted, wrapping your arms around his shoulders from behind, looking into each other’s eyes through the mirror as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

“You like dating an old man, dolcezza?” He chuckled.

“I love dating an old man, Papa.” You whispered into his ear with a smirk, sending a shiver down his spine. Placing a hand on his jaw, you turned his face towards you and captured him in a soft yet deep kiss, one that had his eyes fluttering closed as a quiet moan escaped him.

“You’re sure you wouldn’t want me to dye my hair?” He asked half-jokingly as he self-consciously ran his gloved fingers through his grey locks.

“Mm, don’t you dare.” You murmured against his lips, placing a kiss on the corner of his mouth. Copia sighed as you quelled all his fears, settled any anxieties he had. You always had such a knack for doing that, for making him feel so good about himself. He just couldn’t help having those thoughts sometimes, especially when you were so young and beautiful, always glowing with an ethereal luminance, always leaving him breathless, always leaving him craving more more more of you. Copia often found himself wondering what a pretty little thing like you saw in someone like him.

You grabbed a fluffy spa headband, the one with the cat ears on it, and slipped it onto your sweet Papa to keep his hair out of his face, and put one with bunny ears onto yourself. Gathering up all your things, you took Copia by the hand and led him to the bed, sitting criss cross applesauce in front of each other.

Ripping open one of the packages, you began slathering the lavender-coloured mud all over your Papa’s face as he sat there all pretty, gazing at you with those gorgeous mismatched eyes. But once both of your faces were done, you had a hard time not laughing as you looked at each other, faces purple and stiff and unable to move.

“Stop making me laugh!” You giggled, desperately trying not to crack your masque.

“I’m not doing anything, amore! Well, I can’t do anything, I can’t move my goddamn face.” Copia responded, huffing in amusement, only causing you to swat at him and laugh more.

After not looking at each other for a minute and finally calming down, you and Copia slowly glanced at each other, staring at one another for exactly one second before he snorted out a laugh, causing you both to lose it again.

After the 25 minutes was up, you both ran to the bathroom to wash the masque off before returning to bed for the rest of the stuff.

From there, you applied the jelly pads under his eyes, the gel lip masque, and finally the sheet masque on top of everything. Copia sighed as he reclined back, resting his head in your lap as you began to use the facial roller on him, going over his cheeks, forehead, up the bridge of his nose. You smiled at his little groans of relaxation, soothingly scratching your fingers against his scalp with your free hand.

You admired your darling Papa like this, enjoying the gentle moment with your love. He looked so precious, his closed eyes fluttering open every so often to gaze up at you. And you couldn’t help but smile, because there was so much love in those mismatched puppy dog eyes when he looked at you. Copia never failed to make your heart skip a beat.

After time was up and you removed everything from both of your faces as well as the headbands, Copia sat up and you told him to hold still while you fanned his face with a handheld fan. You didn’t have to rinse any of these products off, just allowing them to soak into the skin. To finish everything off, you smoothed a vitamin enriched serum onto his face, also applying some on yourself.

“All done.” You smiled, leaning in to give him a big smooch.

“Oh, grazie così tanto, bellina! This was just wonderful. You make me feel so special.” Copia grinned, kissing you back happily. “How do I look? Younger? More, eh.. more handsome?” He asked, patting his gloved hands against his cheeks, turning his face side to side so you could get a good look at him.

“You look so gorgeous, Papa. Gorgeous as usual.” You bit your lip, that lascivious look in your eyes not escaping your man.

“Eh, davvero? You really think so, amore?” He asked again, gasping when you playfully pounced on him, tackling him down onto the bed and straddling his hips.

“I always think so.” You whispered before peppering his face in lots of little kisses, making your way down to nip at his neck. You placed hot, open-mouthed kisses on his jaw, his cheek, and finally his lips. You kissed his lips so many times, unable to get enough of the man. You had it so fucking bad for him. You needed him to know much you loved him, how crazy you were for him. Copia returned your kisses with matched desperation, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into him more more more, needing you to be impossibly closer. He opened his mouth when you licked across his lips, his tongue teasing you deliciously, swallowing all of your moans. His gloved hands slipped from your waist to your hips and you fisted the soft fabric of his shirt, licking into his mouth with growing fervour, your Papa groaning in pleasant surprise when you began to grind on him.

You broke the kiss, a saliva string still connecting your lips which Copia eagerly licked up. You stared at each other, lips parted, panting, trying to catch your respective breaths. He was hungry for you, you could see it in those gorgeous mismatched eyes, the way his pupils were blown wide, the way his cheeks were flushed red hot.

You leaned in again until the tips of your noses were brushing together, fingers gently smoothing the pretty whiteish wisps of hair near your sweet Papa’s temples. You then leaned in further until your lips gently brushed together, just staying like that for a few moments.

Unable to take it anymore, Copia cupped your face in his hands, bringing you in for a passionate lip lock that grew sloppier with each passing second.

To be continued 😈

Tagging: @sucharide @my-mummy-dust @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @rightintheghoulies @copiaswifey @youhaveahomeinmyheart

#my writing #papa iv x reader #copia x reader #popia x reader #papa iv #cardinal copia x reader smut #copia x reader smut #popia x reader smut #popia #popia copia #papa emeritus iv x reader smut #papa emeritus 4 #papa emeritus iv #papa 4 #cardinal copia #cardinal copia x reader #copia

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deathbxnny · 6 months

Note

Here's a genshin request, ballroom dancing with Neuvillette except reader has no idea how to dance and is tripping every 2 seconds.

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A/N: I absolutely love this idea omgg! It's so adorable, so thank you for the request!<33 Content: Mentions of some anixiety, romantic tension, mutual pinning, slight angst, fluff, sfw Reader has no set pronouns! ((Not proofread.))

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"Just follow my lead."

You let out a shaky breath, your heart beating against your ribcage hard enough for it to ring in your ears. You felt nervous and anxious, when you watched the couples in the room start to sway along the calm music, so in sync and effortlessly that it soon replaced the sinking feeling in your stomach with one of near envy. It reminded you of why you disliked these events so much.

Your eyes glanced at the larger form of the man next to you. He was so elegant and poised, never once letting any emotion cross his face. You silently wished he wouldn't ask you for a dance, not because you didn't want to dance with him, but rather because you just simply didn't know how to. The idea of embarrassing yourself infront of the man you've loved for years now made you want to disappear, despite how much you secretly wished to be apart of the couples on the dancefloor.

Gazing at the nearby balcony doors, you were quick to excuse yourself, just as Neuvillette had turned to you to utter the question you dreaded, yet yearned for the most. You pushed through the crowd, your breathing a little panicked. You felt bad for just running off, but the cold fall air helped calm your nerves, once you've finally reached the grand balcony. Your clammy hands pressed against the cool marble of the railing, your hand hanging low, as you gulped. Was this not more embarrassing? Running away from your long time crush, just because you couldn't dance?

You were considering to leave at that point, when suddenly a gloved hand grabbed your shoulder. You froze, yet knew who it was without even having to turn around. "Are you alright?" He asked and you could nearly imagine the concerned furrow of his brow, the confused narrow of his eyes. This was definitely alot more embarrassing. "Yes... I just needed some air." "You're not a very good liar." He said with ease, a calmness that made you shiver. "How did you know I was lying?" "I judge people for living, dear." The slight amusement in his voice made you turn towards with him with a playful glare. The slightest upturn of his lips washed the anixiety away with it.

"Fair enough..." You mutter weakly, before your eyes settle on the moon again. You tried to ignore how your heart skipped a beat when the man stood next to you, his gaze following yours upwards with a soft, content sigh. The sound of the music filtered out of the ballroom, yet blended in with the ocean waves and the calls of the cicadas. It was peaceful, despite the storm in your mind at ebing so close to him. It was foolish perhaps to think a man like him could be interested in someone like you... and yet, he considered you important enough to always stay by your side. The people of Fountaine would rather he be inside with them, conversing and socialising... yet he was still here.

"... Would you like to dance?" He asked after a while, watching as you tense up once more. Your face burned, when you sighed and had to finally admit the truth. "I can't dance..." "Then I'll just teach you." You hated how smooth and confident he was, since it made it impossible to say no. Your words failed you however, when you finally got to hear the ones you had yearned for from him all this time. He seemed to take it as a form of silent rejection though, clearing his throat with a near nervous glance away. "Unless ofcourse... you don't want to-" "No! ... I mean, I'd love to dance with you." You clarified quickly, nearly kicking yourself at your eagerness. But another upturn of his lips made you melt.

He took your hand in his and led you away from the railing, until you both now stood in the middle of the balcony. His other hand rested on your waist, pulling you closer. "I hope, this is fine with you." He hummed, never the one to ever bring you any discomfort. You just hoped he couldn't feeel how your skin seemed to burn, "Yes... it's okay." You muttered, trying not to stumble over your own words. The music from inside seemed to blur once the man began to move with you. Your gaze never left your shoes, your teeth gritting whenever you trippped. You just wished you could do better.

"Keep your eyes on me." Neuvillette whispered against your ear, making you only reluctantly let your eyes meet his. You knew that you wouldn't be able to look away if you did. He was mesmerizing and yet in that moment, he was looking down at you like you were the most fascinating thing in the world. His gaze was warm, so warm you could burn yourself. But that alone made you subconsciously become better, your feet finally understanding what to do and following in his steps perfectly. You were in sync for a single moment, your dream of being just like the other couples finally coming true.

He spun you gently, only for you to trip over your feet again and stumble into his chest. You were panting a little, not used to dancing for such a long time and the embarrassment made you just want to hide forever. But his calm chuckle made you relax again, as he patted your head reassuringly. The pride in the gesture making your heart clench painfully, the yearning hurting your soul. And he felt it as well, unbeknownst to you.

"You did well, my love."

-----

A/N: Okay so I hope this is fine! I wanted to post at least something today, despite how busy I am, so here it is! Thank you again for the cute request!<33

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin fanfiction #genshin x you #genshin neuvillette #genshin neuvillette x reader #genshin

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imaslutforwritingshit · 8 months

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𝘽𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙏𝙤 𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡 ➫ 𝘼 𝙈𝙞𝙜𝙪𝙚𝙡 𝙊'𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙖 𝙍𝙤𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚.

PART TWO

⚠️WARNING-SMUT+VIOLENCE. 16+

CHAPTER FOUR- THE ALCOHOL, (FINALLY.)

There was one clock.

One, small, silver clock hanging on the side of my bedroom wall.

I sat, with my knees up against my chest on the floor, staring at the wall, the each tick of the gears tempting me to run away as fast as possible.

I've been sitting for 2 hours.

Gwen told me Miguel orders an official lights out at 3:AM- no one, not even he is permitted outside the quarters.

"It triggers a motion sensor alarm," Gwen had explained to me. "The security system is physically impossible to breach."

I know I couldn't leave. I knew they wouldn't open a door and let me go, when I'm their only hope of a weapon. So, I had to escape. I knew they didn't intend to kidnap me- that I would have free will here, but I'm not going to be their pawn. I don't belong here, under someone else's power.

Mighty fucking Miguel should choose another Spider to do his dirty work.

Only 6 more minutes until 3:AM. This entire time, I've been thinking about everything Gwen told me. Millions of realities, traveling through dimensions. She had showed me the colorful watch on her wrist that allowed her to jump through realities.

My plan.

Learn how to master invisibility, and use it to remain unseen by the alarm. Sneak to Gwen's room and pickpocket her watch. Stay invisible. Open the portal, come back home, make up a lie to my mother.

That is, if this plan works. But I had no idea how to start. Invisibility? Gwen told me powers feel most natural to our body, but I had no idea how to just turn myself into nothing.

I balled up my fist and squeezed my body, willing my mind to vanish, but as I looked down, my brown legs still poked out. How could I do this?

My body began to give out with exhaustion. I shook my head, and idly trudged to the mini fridge near my marble counter. There was a few small dark drinks on the first shelf. Cold expresso.

I took two gulps of one, and set the bottle down on the smooth counter. I needed a solution to this, now. Every second was another moment my home was in peril.

I plopped on the simple, large white bed that Gwen assigned to me. It was a nice room, really. I turned my head to see the city skyline at night. It was strange- I could see stars here. Not like New York, in my planet- which Gwen said was Planet 1001.

"Your planet, it's sort of a computer code for your powers. Lyla was the one who first deciphered it." Gwen had told me that as we toured the building- 9 stories of headquarters, computer labs, science experiments, and boxing arenas.

I widened my eyes. Computer code.......

My planet was 1001. Those were binary numbers.

Machine code.

I whipped around to the small laptop placed on my new desk. If I could decipher it, I could find out how to unlock the invisibility in my code. This was the only lead I had.

I clicked the laptop on and typed the numbers in a calculator. According to binary system, 1001 uses 10 bits to represent the number. Divided by 2...chronological order...the only sound in the silent building seemed to be my fingers tapping on keys.

Boom. The number, my planet- translates to-

"1111101001..." my voice was a whisper. But as soon as the last number left my lips, my instincts sharpened. I looked at my laptop and stifled a scream.

Where my hands used to be, was nothing. I waved my arm to see only binary code behind it.

I was invisible.

Euphoria plunged into my veins. I could leap for joy.

I could fight so easily with this now. I made a mental note of the numbers, and chugged the rest of the expresso.

I felt so good.

Caffeine filled my nerves with a tingling sensation, and the invisibility made me feel invincible.

I could do this. As long as no one notices- I can escape, and with my new ability...no one will be able to find me again.

As I crept to my door and grazed my fingertips to the handle- I looked back at the window.

And a strange feeling took over my gut. I didn't want to leave.

This place felt more like my home, in the one day I've been here, than my planet felt in my life.

But I opened the door.

And I faced the darkness.

The halls were as dark as I remembered, but the empty silence that filled them created an eerie thump of my heart. Each soft footstep my suit took made me cringe.

100,024. Gwens room appeared in soft blue lighting. And the small hand-pad in the middle of it shone as well.

Shit. How could I forget there was a password?

I ripped my mask off on frustration. What now?

And then a very, very bad idea slipped in my mind.

The red room I first teleported into, was Miguel's quarters.

Gwen said he did everything there- sleep, eat, track Spiders. I can recall the lack of security on the doors, as well.

Maybe...just maybe, I could take off his watch, if I was very,

very,

quiet.

I put my mask over the bun in my hair, and leaped down in a single movement, rolling on the floor with stealth. Only one more staircase to go. I flung my body over the last railing and whipped through the first room I saw when I was here.

Miguel's room roared with danger. Red light leaked from under the large doors.

He can't see me, I reminded myself. But it did little to calm my nerves. I know none of the S.S thinks I've already got a hang of my powers- but they had abilities of their own, too.

I didn't know what Miguel's were yet.

As silently as possible, I creaked a door open, and stepped inside. As I squinted my eyes in the blood red darkness, in a corner of the room, I saw a grand red bed, with a muscular body covering it.

He was sleeping.

When I stepped closer, I could see the outline of his biceps, dark and strong- and his obligues heaving up and down with each breath. A cold, icy feeling poured into my body.

He wasn't wearing a shirt.

That shouldn't make me feel anything. There were countless occasions the boys in my school would run track shirtless. I shouldn't care.

But...he wasn't a boy. He was a man, a dangerous man. Tough around the edges. Able to kill you with his hands.

He was a walking weapon.

He was born to kill.

I shuddered. Maybe I shouldn't do this. Maybe I could convince them another way.

No.

I can't let them win this. I can't let them take me and get away with it.

I made it to the side of his bed. A simple, black wood nightstand stood near the king sized bed, with black and blue silk bedding messed up from his restless body.

I almost laughed at the sight. Silk bedding. I wondered how they got money in this job. I didn't want to think about it.

His eyes were closed, and his body laid rigid. His adam's apple was a perfect break in his muscular neck. And his lips looked vulnerable in the red light, as if it were the only part of him that was.

My heart was beating too fast now, so fast I was worried he would hear.

He was beautiful.

It didn't matter, of course it didn't matter.

My gaze dropped to the blanket that covered just above his hips. A strong, thick v shape trailed down his pelvis bone....

No. No, no, no.

I abruptly turned my eyes to his wrist. His veiny arms seemed freakishly big compared to the watch on his right hand.

Now was my chance.

The room was deathly quiet, so quiet I couldn't discern if the faint buzz from behind me was machinery or my own mind playing tricks on me.

Well.

Yolo.

I gently grabbed the watch around his wrist.

The moment- the moment I touched him- my body fazed back into view.

The moment I touched him, I wasn't invisible anymore.

WOOSH.

The first impact- my small fingers breezing against his skin- was enough for him. He roared, and jolted as fast as a cat, to the ground.

Miguel snatched my wrist as if I were a child, and flung me on his bed. I landed, back first on a large pillow, curving my body closer to his.

His breathing was fast, rough. I stifled a whimper and he snarled, as if the sound pained him.

His eyes were too dark, his hands too strong, his hips too close.

It was too much. His gaze met mine, red focused on my eyes, and as I stared down, I saw his abs sharpening with each breath.

"You bitch." He pushed my shoulders down farther, and pinned open one of my thighs with his knee. I groaned against his body, but his grip was too hard. He leaned in, and bared his teeth, fangs grinding harshly on them, cheekbones sharp in the lighting.

"What..." he seethed, a low sound rumbling all the way down my gut. "...the fuck, did you think you were gonna do? Huh?" He pushed his knee harder and I yelped. His hand scraped my chin as he pulled my mask off and pulled it on the floor.

"You think I can't tell when someone tries to touch me?" He raised his eyebrows, and tilted his head, like predator with prey. "Answer me." His mouth was so close, he could bite me if he wanted to.

He sprung out two claws, and held them under my chin, lifting my head up to face him. His eyes looked so terrifying, but casual, as if the effort were nothing to him. As if the fear he made me feel was nothing to him.

His dark stare buried into my skin.

Like he was ripping me apart- with his eyes alone.

"Answer me," he purred. "Or are we playing cat and mouse? Hmm?" Miguel smiled slightly, then a frightening calm drowned his expression. "I guess we are, then. That's fun." He trailed his eyes down my body, to my hips, and up to my chest again- fire burning in my core.

I didn't understand what exactly he said- until he wrapped his fingers around my hipbone and shoved my body to lay on my stomach. His claws were sharp to my skin, millimeters away from slicing me to blood.

He pulled my body closer to him, and he pushed his body on top of mine to keep me down. His fingers wrapped around the scalp of my hair, and he jerked my head up, my breath a ragged pattern.

He shifted his knees closer to my thighs, slightly grinding against my ass, and I couldn't tell if the hardness behind me was his muscular thigh....or something else.

I finally found my mouth, words, and my throat. "I'm sorry...I-"

"You're sorry?" He hissed lowly. "Sorry, for breaking in my fucking room? His voice raised, but it didn't tear away from my ear. "I tried to be nice to you. But if you want to act like a prisoner, maybe I have to treat you like one.

You want that?" He ripped his hand out of my hair and stood up, breathing quickly. "I knew we shouldn't have trusted you."

I scrambled up, finding my feet. "You guys weren't going to let me out of here. I had no choice!"

He stood, facing the computers on the platform above. His back was to me, deeply muscular, unnaturally perfect. He said nothing. The room returned to thick silence, but this time, my heart wasn't beating from fear.

He tilted his head, and his messy hair slid from the movement. I saw his shoulders curve from his unsteady breath, in, and out...

"How stupid. I didn't expect for you to be such a dumbass, Scarlett." He roamed to a shelf near the door, and I watched his body, his feline walk, his legs covered in thick navy sweatpants.

My eyes burned as I looked back up to his head. "I am not a dumbass." I marched halfway across the room, out of arms reach from him, but close enough to stare him directly in the eyes.

He turned to look at me, and lazily planted two hands on a table behind him. He dropped his head, and an small smile met his lips- but not his eyes. "Oh. Really?" he murmured darkly. "Because I was sort of getting that impression."

"How...can you see me?" I looked down at my very existent hands. "I was just invisible..." my throat locked.

He grabbed a half full glass from the table and harshly brought it to his lips.

Alcohol. Finally.

"I have the ability to strip people of their powers. Just by touching me, you become defenseless."

I furrowed my brows. "Then why do you need me on a mission to do your dirty work?"

Miguel clenched his jaw, and glared at me. "If people touch me. Weapons still work. Especially powers that people use from a distance."

He took another sip of what looked like scotch.

I cautiously made my way to the table and grabbed a large, crystal bottle of amber liquid.

As I did so, in a flash, Miguel grabbed my hand and shoved it on the table. "You're underage."

I rolled my eyes. "I'm turning 19 in a couple months. You know, I'm at the legal drinking age in most countries." I wanted to cringe at how childish I sounded.

He held another shot glass to his lips, this time letting the scotch slowly slide down his tongue. My breath quickened.

"Well, not in America, right?" He slammed the drink down and faced me. His body was inhumanly larger than mine. He was right- he could kill me like a bug.

"We are on a different planet, are we not?" I was surprised to hear how cocky I sounded in his presence.

He laughed softly, and trailed his fingers slightly closer to mine on the table.

"Funny, funny girl." He glared sinfully into my eyes, and slid his tongue over his upper lip. My cheeks flushed.

"I'm sorry, but I really need to leave. It isn't personal... I just-"

Miguel slammed his hand down aggressively. "When will you stop with this shit? Do you understand-" He growled, and stepped so close in front of me, I had to press my body on the side of the table. "That what we're doing is protecting you? Huh? You want to go back to your mommy? Fine by fucking me. But how about you wait, wait until the sinkholes start appearing and everyone you love, everything you ever cared about, will be killed, by your goddamn stupidity. Do you want that?"

He yelled with such power that I dropped my head to avoid his gaze. He said nothing more, inhaled sharply, and dropped his head too. I hadn't even noticed his hands were steadying himself on the cabinet behind my head. I looked up, to meet a messed up head of hair. His shoulders glistened with sweat, pressed up against the sleeves of my suit.

I've never been so close to a guy before.

I mean, I've fucked about a dozen frat idiots at college parties. But, no one like this. No one so dark, so vulnerable, but so closed off. It made me feel uncomfortable.

Exhilarated.

My nerves felt warm now.

He looks at me, bares his teeth, and pushes his body off of mine. "Do you have any idea what you could risk if you mess up?"

I shook my head. For once, I realized what he meant. When Gwen was talking about messing up realities, I didn't realize just leaving would cause a break in the timeline. My breath spikes, when I realize I could've killed my mom by just seeing her.

He leans his head back, and stared into my eyes as he walked backwards.

His body was so lean, so beautiful....

A strange feeling swirled in my gut.

He squinted his eyes, and stopped in the middle of the room. "Take your suit off."

My jaw dropped. "I will do NO such thing!"

He swung a web on top of the platform, and flipped onto the side, staring down at me. "Take it off, now. I need to see something. I'm not trying to undress you for anything personal."

If the lighting didn't cover my blush, Miguel would've saw how red my face was. "I'm not wearing anything under it." My voice was shaky.

With the dark shadow of night covering the room, I wasn't too sure, but I think a smile flickered on his lips. He made a tsk sound. "Ah, that's too bad. Take it off." The severity of his words made my heart race.

"Why?" I asked in a breathy whisper.

He laughed harshly. "Scarlett, I don't really want to play with your body. Not now."

My face burned.

"Take it off." He leaned back on his elbows, and watched me from above, only sharp red eyes visible to mine.

I wanted to spit in his face.

But I remembered the fear I had drowned in when he caught me. And the incomprehensible power he had.

Was he gonna hurt me?

I remember when Gwen brought me to my room. She had told me that Miguel had good intentions, if a he is infuriating sometimes.

I guess I had to go through this incredibly weird request. Maybe he just needed my measurements for something. Besides...in the back of my mind, I didn't mind undressing for him.

I tried to ignore that part, though.

I hesitantly unzipped my suit, and let it fall to my ankles. A loose white tank top and simple underwear was all that covered my body.

At the speed of an wild animal, he jumped down just a couple feet away from me. His gaze lingered too long on my hips, and I curled my fists with embarrassment. I caught a glimpse of his claws retracting before he spoke.

"Oh. You were wearing something under it, then."

I matched his sarcasm. "You disappointed?"

His eyes flashed to mine- but amusement wasn't the only emotion painted in them.

"I wasn't expecting it, that's all." His murmur did, indeed sound disappointed. He bit his lip in what looked like concentration.

I don't know what took over me when I said-

"What would you do if I wasn't? Wearing anything?" My voice was soft.

He looked up for a moment, and heavy tension sparked in the small amount of space between us. He tensed his shoulders and backed up.

"Nothing. I would do nothing."

Somehow, that response upset me more.

He stared me up and down, then nodded with satisfaction. "You're perfect."

"W-what?" His words shocked me for a moment, but then I remembered the purpose of this- the mission.

He walked around me in a circle, then kept murmuring. "Perfect. This is good."

I raised my voice. "Perfect for what?!" Miguel rolled his eyes, and grabbed two of my wrists with his one hand.

I was mad about how easily he did it. I didn't want to be the weak girl that the strong guy could touch. I really needed to try that Strength and Conditioning room I saw on the way here.

"I'll make you a deal. You can get wasted with all the alcohol you want if you agree to this mission." Miguel raised an eyebrow. "You in?" He leaned in closer, and murmured in my ear- "I'll even allow you to touch the hard stuff, Scarlett."

Hearing my name on his lips was like poetry.

And also, that scotch looked pretty good.

But what hard stuff was he referring to? I hope he meant alcohol. And not...something else that could potentially be hard, that I'm not thinking about. Totally not thinking about.

I nodded my head.

What's the worst he could ask me to do, right? Kill a guy, or something?

Right?

Right??

CHAPTER FIVE- THE MORNING ANEW

"What?!" I could hardly fathom what Miguel just said.

He nodded, and kept clicking on whatever technology he used on his platform.

"I am not seducing someone!"

Miguel sighed. "We don't have many girls on the team. Especially...girls as attractive as you. In his perspective, at least." He cleared his throat.

"Who-who even...?" I stammered.

Miguel stood up, and crossed his arms. He was still shirtless, which I tried, (and failed), to ignore.

"His name is Mike Reiner. He's another anomaly. His special ability is ice, ice making, ice welding, whatever. And as stupid as it sounds, he called his self the Ice-man before choosing Spider-Man. The spider from planet 3002 teleported to his country of Norway, and since then, the bastard has been using his power for money and wealth. I can't wait for you to catch him," he growled.

I shook my head. "Killing, attacking, I can do. But seducing? Why?" I downed another shot of vodka before he answered.

"Reiner knows about the multiverse, Scarlett. He travels to planets and murders the wealthy, takes their money and travels back home as if nothing happened. He's ruining planets, and expects there aren't consequences."

He groaned, and jumped from the platform to his bed underneath. I stared as he placed his head in his hands on the edge of his bed. "And, he wants to start another S.S. But, without any consideration for the canon, which would quickly lead to chaos. I would kill him myself, but the guards alone in his house- he would stab me with a fucking icicle before I got close to arresting him. You need to open him up to information. Something we can use."

He sighed, and grabbed a shirt from a cabinet in his nightstand, and pulled it over his body. "I can't believe you woke me up. I'm still pissed."

"Sorry," was all I could sheepishly say. I decided to match his action and I slipped my suit back over my body.

Miguel sighed with annoyance. His body lurched up with a spiderweb, and he was on the platform again, far from me. His eyes were planted on the orange screen in front of him.

I felt a rising exhaustion creep into my body again. Shooting a long spiderweb on the platform, I swung my body on top of it. "What are you doing?"

I could see his teeth bare through the reflection of the screen. "Go away. No one's allowed on my platform." He jerked his body up, and walked towards me, forcing me to take steps back, until my body was teetering over the edge of the metal block.

His eyes had a normal sense of hatred in them, but there was tentativeness to the hatred, that hadn't been there before.

I lifted my mask over my face just enough for him to catch my smile, and my full lips opening to speak. "No one's allowed to take me hostage. Things change, right?"

He snarled, a low, powerful sound in the silence, and grabbed my shoulder, keeping me from dropping the ledge.

"You talk a lot of shit for being in a man's bedroom." His grip on my body tightened. "You talk a lot of shit for being defenseless." His lips were softly pressed together, and his eyes were sharp, almost teasing. My stomach flipped.

"I'm defenseless?" I murmured, stepping closer to him, and I pushed my hand on his abdomen, gently pushing him back. It was meant to be a simple, playful gesture, but Miguel inhaled sharply, and stiffened. He quickly whipped his body from mine.

"Don't touch me," He snarled lowly. "Do that again, and I'll show you just how weak I can make you feel." He slammed his body back into the chair.

Miguel's tone was made of pure rage. I wondered just how angry he could get, and what he could do with that anger. The thought made me shiver.

He sat back down, his v-shaped silhouette facing away from me. I sighed, and backed away to the edge of the platform again. "I don't think I'm defenseless," I mumbled blandly, and I let my body fall down the platform, sinking into the soft covers of his bed under me.

I felt so euphoric.

Maybe it was the booze.

Maybe it was the raw anger of Miguel, and how much it had amused a hidden part of me.

Maybe it was the fact that my life changed in a day.

Maybe it was the oddly comforting sight of Neuva York.

But I feel like I could get used to this.

The tapping and pacing of Miguel on the platform above had soothed me in a way I didn't expect. The soft feeling of sleep trickled in my body before I could fight it, and I felt my vision go dark in the red haze of the leader's quarters.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

"Escape?! You really tried to escape?" A frantic female voice blared in my ears. I jolted up, and blinked around to discover the red lighting, now mixed with open windows of morning light shining in the room as well.

My eyes fixated on Gwen's messy hair, her blue basketball shorts, and white crop top riding above her stomach.

"I like your belly button ring. Cool color." I rubbed my eyes.

She raised her eyebrows, and looked down at the black gem pierced through her skin. "Yeah, whatever, it's..." she frowned, and stared at me again with bewilderment. "Really? Escaped?!"

I shrugged, and stepped up from the bed, still in my Spider suit. "Yeah, I tried. Miguel gave me better reasoning as why I shouldn't." My throat felt scratchy from last night's alcohol.

Last night...my mind flashed to Miguel pinning me down and breathing in my ear. I was in his bed.

I was in his bed.

I widened my eyes and searched the room for a tall, broad figure. "Did I sleep with Miguel?!"

Gwen laughed softly, raising her eyebrows. "Jesus, you tell me." She shook her head, and slung a spiderweb on the platform, jumping upwards, and hanging from it in a upside down movement.

I stared above her. "No...he just told me to take off my suit."

Gwen dropped from the web in shock, and plopped down to the blue blanket under me. "Whattt?"

"No!" I protested, shaking my hands. "Not like that. He just had to see my body for the mission. Making sure I fit his stupid role for Mike Reiner." I winced at how it sounded.

Gwen raised one eyebrow. "I mean, alright. I'll trust you on that. Miguel never lets anyone near him, let alone women, so..."

A memory of my hand on his torso flashed in my mind. She was right. The moment I had touched him, he had backed away.

"But I can't believe he let you sleep in his bed!" She hurried on, her words fusing together. "This is very unusual for him, Scar, I swear-"

"Scar?" It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. "You're calling me Scar now?"

"What?" She sighed. "It fits you."

I rolled my eyes and stood up, brushing nothing in particular off my legs.

"Let's go. What do you guys have for breakfast around here?"

Gwen grinned and gestured me to the doorway, and I looked back at the room I had woken in.

He had let me use his bed.

Warmth spread up my body. I had no idea where he was now. I realized, that I wanted to.

I want to know Miguel O'Hara.

A smile spread on my face.

Maybe even... like him.

In what way, well, I wasn't sure yet.

Gwen peaked her head from the door. "You coming? We have pretty stellar bagels around here." She smiled warmly, and my heart softened at the gesture.

I ran to Gwen, feeling my footsteps softly hit the cold tile, catching up to meet with my new friend.

CHAPTER SIX- THE BREAKFAST CLUB

Gwen introduced me to her friends at breakfast in the morning. We sat down on a large, white bench near the forests behind the building. Sunlight streamed through the branches, and warm morning air breezed through our messy hair. My heart swelled at the feeing.

Gwen grabbed a cylinder of what resembled syrup, and began pouring it on her protein pancakes, and eggs as well.

"Ew! That's so American." A buff Indian boy scowled at Gwen's plate.

Gwen rolled her eyes. "I'm sorry, did you not have your chai tea yet today? It would explain your whining." She started scraping her knife on the ceramic tableware.

Hobie, who sat across from me, huffed a small laugh. He was eating 3 small sausages and a large cup of black coffee for breakfast. Hobie was getting weirder the more I knew him.

The Indian boy swung his hand up in a quick fist. "It's. Just. Chai. Only chai. Just say chai."

Gwen grinned mischievously, and widened her eyes in mock surprise. "No, no Pavitr! Chai tea is more than just chai. It's your lifeline. Your legacy!"

Pavitr grabbed a mug (most likely chai tea,) and stormed off, his hair swaying left and right. I furrowed my eyebrows in amusement as he slammed the sliding door to the inside cafe. "What was that?"

Hobie twirled his fork, a sausage on it spinning as he did so. "Pavitr has this strange little chai thing. Fun to tease him about." He chomped on half of a sausage, then whistled.

A large, fluffy poodle with a Spider-Man cape ran to our table, and Hobie dropped a sausage in its mouth. "Off you go now, Beatrice." The dog barked with aggression. Hobie raised his eyebrow and pointed his index finger to the dogs face, shaking it left and right. "Now Beatrice, you better behave. Or else no more sausages, eh?"

The dog snarled and pounced on Hobie's finger, but before it could bite him, Hobie flicked his finger on the dogs nose. "Boop!"

Gwen groaned and grabbed Hobie's hand. "Stop messing around with him! And stop calling him Beatrice." She faced the dog and kneeled down in front of it. "I'm sorry Mark. You can leave, it's okay."

The dog barked two times, then bounced away to the next table. Gwen dusted her knees off and took a seat again.

"Okay..." My voice was squeaky. "What was that?"

Hobie tapped his fingers on the bench. "That was Beatrice."

"Mark! His name is Mark!" Gwen snapped, throwing a piece of a pancake at Hobie's chest. It plopped in his lap, and he grabbed it with two fingers and threw out in his mouth too. I recoiled with slight disgust, and slight admiration.

"Mark..." Hobie droned on intentionally. "He's a spider-dog."

I stared at the two of them. "I can't tell if you guys are kidding."

Gwen shook her head while chewing. "Yeah, it's pretty crazy, right? Miles had the same reaction." She laughed a little, then looked down at her plate with a renounced sadness. I quickly changed the subject.

"So....Mike Reiner, huh?"

Hobie groaned loudly. "Now, don't even get me started on that bloke!"

I ripped off a segment of my bagel. "What, you really don't like him?" The thought of fighting someone so hated made me feel a little tense.

Hobie widened his eyes, and set his hands down on the wood. "Are you kidding? I love him! Anarchy forever! He takes from the rich. My number one role model, I'll tell you that."

I raised an eyebrow at Gwen. She gave me a little look like- "ignore him."

Gwen turned to me, and gulped down the remnants of orange juice. "He's pretty dangerous, but I guarantee Miguel's plan will work. You need to strip him of information about the new S.S, then arrest him. Just...be charismatic, and you'll be fine."

She dropped her eyes and attempted to hide a grin. "But I think you'll have no problem with charisma, after getting Miguel to share a bed."

"Hey!" A blush coated my cheeks. "You know it wasn't like that."

Hobie spit out his coffee. "No shit! You got into the big guy's pants, did you?"

I stood up abruptly. "No," I clarified sharply. "I talked to him about the mission, that's all."

Hobie smiled sinisterly. "Mission "Fuck the Leader As Fast As Possible," right?"

"No! You..." I searched for an insult, but his bright eyes told me he would just be more excited from one. I seethed, and gave a goodbye glance to Gwen.

I took my bagel and marched back inside, following Pavitr's footsteps. Now I understand why he wanted to leave so quickly.

"Bye, Scar!" I heard Gwen tease. I rolled my eyes at that, but a smile rose on my face. I guess I was so caught up in the breakfast fiasco, that a I walked through the buffet, I bumped into a hard wall. My bagel skittered to the floor. I looked down to see blue running shoes.

Oh.

That wasn't a wall, that was Miguel.

"What the fuck?" He hissed, wiping droplets of coffee off a crimson, tight-fitted shirt.

"I'm sorry!" I hated how many times I said that to him. He snarled and slinked to the buffet, adding a large scoop of eggs to one plate, and grabbing another empty one. I watched with curiosity as he laid the plate out, for an elderly chef to plop a large piece of steak on it, steaming and dark. He carried the two plates in one hand, as he nodded to me to follow him.

"Breakfast steak?" I asked timidly, attempting a joke.

He just nodded, and stared straight ahead. "Fiona makes one for me. Every morning."

I frowned. "Really? Why, for muscle or something?"

An uninterested grin slid on his face. "I don't think I lack in that department, Scarlett."

Before I could stop myself, I stared at his defined arms. Veins trailed from his elbow to the ends of the tendons on his hands.

Jesus, he could probably choke me with two fingers.

When he looked down, catching me staring, I whipped my face to the front of the cafeteria.

Finally, Miguel spoke. "I like steak. That's it."

A smile reached my lips. I decided to bring up last night, hoping to get more answers to the many questions I had.

"So...where did you sleep last night?"

His eyes shot to mine, full of a dangerous shade of red with the morning sunlight. "I didn't," he muttered, taking a seat in an empty cafeteria bench.

I blushed. "Sorry." But in my defense, he could've just told me to move.

I took a seat across from him, and his eyes shot to me. "What are you doing?"

"Um...taking a seat?" I stammered.

Miguel took a sharp breath. "Get off. This is my table."

I quirked an eyebrow. "Seriously? You don't share a bench? What are you, 10?"

He stabbed his fork in the steak. "I asked you once. I won't ask you again." His eyes dragged me down, agitation filling his face. He looked down at his food, his brown hair falling over his cheekbones. The small movement made me feel nervous for some reason, and I stood up, crossing my arms.

"So I can't sit at your table, but I can sleep in your bed?"

Miguel coughed, alarmed, not expected my words. "That's different. Multiple girls sleep in my bed all the time."

I huffed. Miguel noticed the anger that coated my expression, and smiled as he dropped his face again.

"Don't worry, Scarlett. You were my favorite one." His voice was smooth, nonchalant.

My mouth formed an O, and I snapped it shut when seeing his satisfaction to my reaction.

"I'm leaving," I snapped. "Is there anything you need me to do before I go?"

Miguel stiffened. "No. Stay. We need to train." He scooped eggs in his mouth quickly.

I rolled my eyes. "I'm not staying if I'm not sitting."

To this, Miguel grinned. I don't recall seeing him smile that wide before.

"Oh, you're a princess then, huh?" He let the fork push down on his teeth when he tilted his head back slowly, his eyes a dark pit of intensity.

I felt a blush crawl over my face again. "I think you're the one acting like a princess, Miguel."

He smirked, and shoved his fork into his eggs with harsher force. "Sit down."

I obliged.

˚₊𓆩༺🕷༻𓆪₊˚

After he finished his food, and changed out of his shirt, (though I told him there was no point, it was a SMALL drop of coffee), Miguel was bringing me through an unfamiliar section of the building.

The air got colder, and our feet clacked on the smooth floor in as we walked, saying nothing. We descended two staircases now, and I was yearning to break the silence he created.

"Are we going to the basement?" I asked, with a hushed tone.

Miguel smiled slightly. "Something like that.

I frowned. "That's a little unsettling."

"I scare you?" Miguel taunted. I glanced up at his eyes, towering above me, as if his very existence was an insult to my own.

I said nothing and continued forward. We halted at a large, metal door in another blue hallway. I shivered from the cold. He twisted the handle, and grunted as the door creaked open. It had to be at least half a ton of metal. I gaped at his brute force.

"You coming?" He held the heavy metal with his foot, staring at me with blank, lazy eyes. I shifted my weight, then quickly followed behind him.

The room was unlike anything I had every seen- compared to school gyms, martial arts centers, boxing rings- I had never seen such a grand area of athletics.

There were hundreds of weights in all sized and shapes, layered on a wall- thick with dumbbells and barbells. I turned to see metal bleachers round against one wall, and a oval shaped sand pit in the middle of the room. A large skylight shone from directly above it, and poles stacked on the ceiling, as if their intention was for training purposes.

I turned around, admiring the sheer beauty of the articulation. A small boxing ring, completed with a punching bag and wall of fighting equipment was parallel to the wall of weights.

"What is this place?" My jaw had already dropped.

Miguel put a hand on his hip and looked up, his jawline sharp and tensed.

"My training facility. The arena."

That’s it for this post! Look at my others for the rest of the story ;)

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that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main · 2 years

Note

could i ask for a male/gender neutral reader x viktor where the reader is from the undercity but is crazy good with mechanics. one day they get scouted and brough to the topside and viktor gets a gay panic with his new partner?

YES

The Underground Angel| Viktor

Reader: They/them/he/him

Note: might make a part two idk

Arcane Master List

"Come now Y/n," Heimerdinger called, the young man standing on the edge bridge a small satchel of his items.

"I.." he spoke, "apologies sir...I...I haven't been outside the underground."

"There is a first time for everything now isn't there?" Heimerdinger spoke, "come now there's much to do!"

Y/n nodded, following the small being as they made their way into Piltover. It was immediate that Y/n was flustered at the embarrassing stares he was being given, they looking at him in disgust.

Quickly he pulled the hood onto his head trying to hide his gray hair and heterochromia eyes. Y/n followed close, keeping his eyes down and his head down. Truth be told he had no idea where he was going. But soon white smooth concrete turned into marble, they were clearly in an important building now.

"Come now."

Y/n nodded following Heimerdinger until they made it into a room.

"Kayen will help in getting you situated," Heimerdinger spoke.

"Of course sir." The man spoke.

"I will return shortly. I must be off to find Poro."

He quickly rushed off.

"This way sir."

"Ah, Y/n will be fine."

"Very well Y/n."

It was quickly Y/n was tossed into a warm bath, told to wash himself up while Kayen got a set of clothes and something for him to eat.

His gray hair turned white, and his soot and oil-covered skin turned pure once more.

He wiped his face clean draining the bathtub of the water a towel wrapped around him.

"Y/n." Kayen spoke, "I have clothes for you, I will assist you in getting dressed."

Kayen made quick work of getting Y/n dressed, helping lace up the vest corset in the back over a white button-up with black slacks and a simple tie to finish it all off it white in color for purity. Y/n slipped the boots on, they having a slight heel to them and being laced in the back like a corset.

With a few fingers running through his hair by the butler and a brush once or twice Kayen saw him presentable. Nodding, he leads Y/n along through the halls. They made their way to the labs.

Kayen seemed to have a keen eye for finding people, as he knocked on the door.

"It's me, Sir, Kayen. I am here with Y/n sir." He spoke opening the door and walking in, "Come now."

Y/n with a shy gulp followed, slipping in between the doors. His hands are full with his satchel of work.

"Ah! Y/n looking much better already! I was just telling the boys about you!"

"Um...thank you sir..." y/n spoke keeping his gaze down.

There was a shatter of glass, alerting the whole group. The brown-haired pale man cleared his throat.

"Um. Slipped. My apologies..." He spoke trying to hide his mess with his feet.

Who was Viktor kidding? He was in utter shock, the man who stood before him, was from the underground? He seemed more to be like from heaven than anything else.

"Come now Y/n there's much to do." Heimerdinger spoke walking away with a hop in his step.

"Yes of course sir."

Viktor watched him walk off, Kayen following in walking out and going his separate way.

"By how we just met him Y/n'll be crushed here." Jayce spoke, "We should have his back don't you think?"

"Hm?" Viktor spoke, "yes...of course."

During work Viktor couldn't keep his mind clear, Y/n; how....interesting. Love at first sight? It didnt exist. He knew that, well. He thought he knew that.

He'd feel blessed running into him again. If of course if it wasnt only the first day Y/n was in piltover, with a cup of warm coffee. Y/n had been engrossed in a book, smaller book ontop and a pen in his mouth as he turned the next page. Viktor too dazed in his own little world as they ran into each other in the hall.

"Sorry! Im sorry!" Y/n apologzied quickly, coffee spilt all over Viktor's white vest.

"It's okay-"

"Ah- um!" Y/n tried to look around for something to wipe it, he pulling on his own sleeve it bunched in his palm and wipping Viktor's vest trying to wipe it clean, with some sucess he frowned.

"I. Im really sorry sir...." Y/n spoke head down.

"It's okay." Viktor told him, looking at who was apologizing to him so firecly.

Y/n.

Viktor cleared his throat, dispelling the butterflies in his stomach, "You are Y/n are you not?"

"Yes sir."

"I never properly introduced myself I am-"

"Viktor." Y/n finsihed.

"Ah so you remember." Viktor smiled, Y/n nodded shifting on his feet akwardly.

Viktor watched his shift; it was one thing for sure. Y/n was a pretty boy.

"You are from the underground?"

Y/n nodded once more.

"I am too." Viktor tried empathy, maybe he'd be able to gain Y/n's trust from that, "Which part?"

Y/n kept his head down, and gaze away. Viktor patiently waiting for an answer.

"Red light..." Y/n responded quietly.

Viktor smiled, he understood the shame; he had it for quiet some time in the beginning.

"You know as a kid. I thought Red Light Street was just a bunch of food shops." Viktor tried to joke; it was true afterall, "Momma never went near there."

Y/n chuckled softly, it was nice, hearing such a soft little laugh.

"My father always told me the same." Y/n smiled.

Viktor smiled in return, "what are you reading?"

"Oh uh." Y/n spoke, " a novel.."

Viktor looked at the book, "doesn't look very scientific."

Y/n looked away, "well..um."

He only chuckled, "I won't tell no worries."

Y/n flushed darkly, looking away "I...thank you."

Viktor drank up the sight, Y/n flushered infront of him, laughing with him. It was pure bliss.

"I am going for a stroll later." Viktor spoke up, "Would you care to join me through the gardens?"

"Oh. Uh. Me?' Y/n questioned.

Viktor chuckled, "Indeed. You don't think I'd lay down my research for just anyone? Do you?"

"I-"

"I'll meet you back here then, 10 before sunset." Viktor told and then started walking off leaving Y/n to his own device's in the hall.

Rounding the corner Viktor took a heavy breathe in releif; how he managed to not slip up surpised him, and was a blessing that he didn't screw up. All he had to do now was clean up , and return back to the spot later on with his hopes held high, yet ready for rejection.

So he was more than estatic when Y/n returned to the stop, he there before Viktor infact. The walk was...nice that was one way to put it; they talked about work mostly: Y/n talking about mechanisms, while Viktor stayed more on the Alchemy side of science.

Y/n had opened himself up to Viktor, more than just about his work, his family like most kids of the under city dead, and his friends along with them, but left it at that. Viktor confessed similarities; parents gone, not many friends, and those few he did have where gone.

The rest of the walk was quiet, unknowing if it was tension from finding solituide too quickly in one another or a hearts pulling at one another.

It seemed too quick, Y/n sitting ontop a lower than waist level well, Viktor opting out for standing as it would be easier than getting up then down. Y/n agaisnt the thick post of the well as they talked. Every few sentences it seems Viktor got closer and closer. Not nessicarily a bad thing, but not good either. Y/n inviting him to stand inbetween his legs.

"Is. This too fast?" Viktor questioned softly.

"I. I don't know..." Y/n spoke, "I've never...you?"

"No." Viktor told, his milk chocolate hazlenut eyes looking into Y/n's making Y/n melt, face growing warm.

"I...it's a....expirement right?..." Y/n whispered, "just a bio alchemy hypothesis...and....this a test run?"

Viktor was at a lost for words: this was too fast. Wasnt it? But his heart ached, he found someone so diffrent yet so similar to him. Someone that understood him.

"It...can be." Viktor whispered.

Y/n nodded Viktor coming closer if even possible, his Y/n's legs pressed against his hips softly, Viktor guiding Y/n's hands onto his shoulder as there noses grazed against one another.

It was a confusing kiss, that grew passionate and wild. That ended in Viktor's bedroom, the two bare and hands all over one another.

Then all the sudden they were alseep, the sun coming through the window as it rose.

Y/n woke up first, yawning as he sat up, he'd never slept that good. Looking besides him his eyes widen.

"No...No- no." He spoke with a whisper shout quickly getting up and dressed, sleeping with a superior?

Oh he's fucked.

Well: he has been fucked-

Y/n quickly rushed out the room. Carefully making his way to his own: hoping to not get caught. Just within time too as Heimerdinger came in no less that twenty mintues later.

"Ah! You're up! Good good!" He spoke bringing over two cups a tea as Poro ran over to Y/n, "I talked to Jayce last night."

Jayce...Jayce...

Viktor's lab partner? Oh shit

"Ah. Um. I remember him sir." Y/n nodded walking over to the two sofas and small coffee table where he took a seat Poro jumping in his lap.

"He was looking over your notes and such. He believes that if you team up with him and Viktor, it with revolutionize Hex Tech." He spoke with a cheer in his tone, cup in his hand, "the two wish to have lunch with you today. So you can assit immediately."

...today...after he just.....

"Of course sir." Y/n smiled sipping his tea, "whatever is needed I will help."

Well shit.

#arcane #viktor arcane #arcane viktor x reader #x reader #viktor x reader #viktor x female reader #arcane x female reader #viktor #arcane viktor #arcane fanfic

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haruhey · 3 years

Text

Mind If I Join You?

check out my masterlist!

buy me a coffee ¿?

Word count: 13k (i am SO SORRY i got carried away and this fic turned out SO FILTHY but i hit 300 followers so consider this a gift??)

Established Relationship Fluff | Smut

There’s only one bed shower, and Daryl Dixon is an opportunist.

the request:

every single fic of yours is seriously amazing. ur a great writer!! can i request a daryl shower smut bc wooweeeee

There’s always a giddiness inside Daryl when he returns from runs. No more sleeping in the RV for nights on end, no more eating cold canned chicken soup and - as much as he liked Aaron - no more hearing him talk about how much he missed Eric and making him miss you, too. He’s exhausted, his muscles sore from overuse, but the fact that you’re probably curled up in bed makes him so damn excited that all the ailments of his aging body are swiftly forgotten with each step he takes.

Houses fly by in a blur as he ramps up into a jog, his feet taking him to the dim light of a moving lantern in your shared bedroom window. By Daryl’s estimate, it couldn’t have been more than 10 or 11pm, but time meant little in the apocalypse - it was either dark out, or light and with the days getting shorter, he noticed you using the lantern more and more frequently. Just a few days ago, you had fallen asleep curled up on his chest, the soft orange light filling the room before he strained his body trying to turn it off without waking you. The next morning he had a terrible cramp running from his rib up to his bicep, but he never complained. Not even a wince in your presence since he thought the soreness was worth it. He would rather die several times over than lose the image he saw - of your pillowy lips taking soft, steady breaths of air while you slept against his bare skin.

Smiling, he lets himself remember the way you looked when he first gifted it to you, a grin that spread to the apples of your cheeks and crinkled at your eyes plastered on your face. It wasn’t a perfect replica, but it looked close enough to the one you would both light on nightwatches in the prison - which he thinks was when he first realized he loved you. Daryl also remembers the first night he saw you use it, the memory so vivid in his mind that he felt like if he reached out, the soft fabric of your pajamas would welcome his touch.

He could picture it now, your back against the headboard, reading one of the books that littered the shelves he never touches. Your face bathed in the lantern’s hue while your eyes scanned the pages and drinking in every word of whatever you were holding. He plucked that book right out of your hands that night and pulled you onto his lap, kissing the pout off your face until you weren’t annoyed at him anymore, rendered down to just laughing against his lips.

Fuck, he couldn’t wait to get home and see you again.

Daryl curses under his breath as he fumbles a little with the doorknob, but the profanities are quickly replaced with a huff of accomplishment as he practically sprints to the bedroom, boots shucked off haphazardly at the front door. He skips every other stair with long strides, desperate to feel you in his arms. When he enters the bedroom, he places his crossbow on the dresser and is surprised to see the room as dark as it is, the only source of illumination being the moon as it streams through the windows. The bed is empty and the blankets are strewn to your side, but neither you nor your pajamas are anywhere in sight. Panic flies through him before he registers the unmistakable sounds of the shower running, and he scoffs at himself when he sees the dim orange light peeking from beneath the bathroom door.

Had you known how worried he was for a second, you would have laughed at him. He was already so protective of you before the two of you got together, but it was another level entirely when you both made it official. It wasn’t just losing you to the dead anymore - it was also losing you to other people. Daryl knew you could take care of yourself, he had seen you hold your own on runs in the prison and trips outside the Alexandrian gates, but, God, if anything happened to you he wouldn’t know what to do. Being apart from you once when the Governor attacked was already almost too much for him to handle, but the thought of losing you and having to be okay with the fact you were never going to love him again? That was something he never wanted to experience.

Leaning against the wall, he pulls off his belt and places it next to his crossbow, his vest following not long after. The mattress squeaks slightly when he makes his way over to it and lies down, his body feeling almost instant comfort at the feeling of something other than the hard leather of his bike’s seat. Days like this made him think that maybe you were right in jokingly telling him that his motorcycle was a dumb choice for long runs - his tailbone was probably shaped like a rectangle from how long he’d been sitting on his ass.

A few moments pass as he allows himself to indulge in some rest, eyes closing and already in the first stages of a slumber before he shoots up, pushing himself to the edge of the mattress and sitting straight. Fuck, he needed to shower. He had given you his word that he would. Each time before he fell asleep after a run, he’d said; and Daryl Dixon was not one to break promises. Especially not to you.

Getting off the bed, he sheds his shirt and throws the old fabric onto the dresser, grimacing at the knowledge he would have to scrub at the dried walker blood come morning. His socks are next, pulled off by impatient hands and left on the floor, not even given a second glance as he then pulls open a drawer and grabs a pair of boxers from his meager pile. The only thought in his mind being the feeling of smooth sheets and your body against his skin. He’d pick up his clothes after his shower - if he could even muster up enough energy to.

Step by step, he makes it a good few feet out of the bedroom before he realizes the other second floor bathroom doesn’t work. If his memory served him correct, there were some plumbing issues and, before anyone could buy replacements, the world became, well, what it is now. After all, it was the only reason you and Daryl even took this house - nobody else wanted to have only one shower and, after becoming a couple, sharing one between two people didn’t seem all that bad. At least, that’s what he thought until now. Groaning, he rubs his eyes in an attempt to rub out the fatigue in them before his whole body lights up with an idea. Maybe he could have some fun with this. And if you asked, he could always blame the missing pipe or whatever it was that the Alexandrians couldn’t fix.

Practically thrilled, he mentally pats himself on the back and rushes back to the bedroom. Tired? Not anymore. Daryl can’t be if he wants to fulfill what just popped into his mind. Years of hunting leave his footsteps nearly silent when he enters the bathroom, but he’s not exactly at a disadvantage in terms of noise. The rhythmic beating of water against the tiled floor drowns out the slight squeak of the door as well as the hitching of his breath when he notices the gap. With how the room was designed, just standing at the door led his gaze in a nearly direct line of sight to you, the shower curtain lying an inch or two from the wall and offering him a vision which he doesn’t hesitate to indulge in.

It’s not like he's never seen your body - far from it, actually - but there was something about you that made him hesitate when it came to stuff like this. You deserved sweet and soft, affectionate with declarations of love between his kisses, and while he enjoyed giving that to you, sometimes he wanted something different. Sometimes Daryl wanted to act on impulse - to feel a different type of desperation - and tonight, he wanted to act out one of his long-hidden fantasies. One that involved you on many, many occasions.

Truthfully, he couldn’t fucking stop thinking about it since Merle and his buddies showed him that damn VHS as a hormonal high schooler. He never really had a committed girlfriend or anything like that to ever even pluck up the courage to ask, but that fantasy remained like a phantom in the back of his mind, lying just outside his finger’s reach. One that haunts him late at night and renders him withering in his own palm. At least, that was the case. Because he has you now and how he managed that? He didn't know. But he felt confident enough around you and trusted you enough to pursue the desire in him.

A shiver courses through him, running along the tip of his spine when he considers the possibility you might like it as much as him - and if you did, maybe he would divulge to you more of these secrets he’s always kept hidden so well.

With silent movements, Daryl unbuttons and unzips his jeans as he leans against the door of the bathroom, just barely suppressing a groan when his fingers graze the zipper. He curses himself, chastising his sensitivity at the mere image of you doing something as mundane as taking a shower, but he knew it was an inevitable consequence. Ever since the prison, anything you did got him riled up - even just seeing you sitting on his motorcycle made his skin light up with goosebumps. Left in only his boxers, he steps out of the denim pooling at his feet and picks it up, throwing it haphazardly onto the cream coloured counter as he waits for you to take notice of his presence. The metal button clashes against the smooth marble of the vanity, and its noises sound across the room, your eyes opening and your fingers catching the edge of the plastic curtain as you dart your head out, searching for the source.

Your body tenses up, no doubt the experience of living out on the road for so long, but the fighting instinct drains from you the moment you see the affectionate boyish grin playing on Daryl’s lips. It’s barely visible as he stands so far from the meager light source, but it sends an eager smile onto your face. Like all those times he’s returned to you, you want to run to him, feel his arms wrap around you and inhale his scent as you plant those incessant kisses he ‘hated’ everywhere on his face, but that urge only serves to remind you that you’re standing naked in a shower and he’s just staring at you.

“Daryl! What the- I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow.”

Embarrassed, you speak, voice pitched higher than normal from the shock and excitement coursing through your body. However, he stays put, leaning against the door as he drags his eyes up the expanses of skin afforded to him; that is, until you pull the plastic curtain to cover yourself and run your free hand through your hair, tilting your head ever so slightly in order to urge his eyes to meet yours. You wait for his response as you brush the wet strands back from your face, but it never comes, him instead choosing to stride towards you and send you a pout before pulling petulantly at the shower curtain, trying to coax you to let go of it. Raising an inquisitive eyebrow, your grip loosens and he can barely hold back his excitement when you really do let go, tongue peeking out for just a second before he hooks his lip between his teeth.

Throughout your relationship with Daryl, you learned he loved looking at you, gawking at and admiring each angle, birthmark and curve until you felt heat flush through your body. Even before the two of you got together, his gaze stuck on you, longing and soft when you weren’t looking, only hardening if your eyes ever met his. Each time he saw you it was like he was still in disbelief that you were his, forever suspended in the wide look he had when you first confessed to him, hence why you didn’t pay much attention to his stare as you moved to pump out some shampoo. You didn’t really know why he was in the bathroom and he made no effort to tell you, but you were here to clean yourself. So that’s what you’ll do. He’ll probably leave sooner or later after making sure you weren’t hurt anywhere, anyways.

The way the light from the lantern bounced off your glistening skin made you look like some sort of goddess. Like an otherworldly being he shouldn’t be looking at. Or like a succubus, sinfully tantalizing, except you didn’t know what you were doing to him as you raked your hands through your hair again, bubbles forming already between your fingers as you scrubbed. Shit, this was way better than he expected, and he’s gladly taking in everything it was offering. Shifting his weight, he clenches and unclenches his fists - commanding himself to keep them at his sides - but then you turn around, allowing the water to rush down your back and his resolve withers away as he tries not to envy the path along which it’s falling.

Soon, the little space between the shower curtain and the ceramic tiling isn’t enough for him. He needs to feel you against him, his trembling hands and suffocating boxers egging him on like this was the first time he’s ever seen you naked. Clearing his throat, he urges himself to move, building his confidence which had seemed to dissipate nearly immediately as you locked eyes with him. What he wanted to do wasn’t sweet or affectionate, and even though he knew you would tell him if you didn’t like it, he just didn’t really want to risk even doing something you didn’t like in the first place.

“Sorry I, uh, I’ll go rinse out my hair somewhere else. Here, I’ll get out so you can-”

This was it. He had to act now or he’ll lose the opportunity. Running his thumb across his bottom lip, he watches as your hand reaches for the shower valve, but your movements and voice stop when Daryl shoots his dominant hand out, the calloused skin wrapping around your wrist in a warmth that makes you snap your gaze to his. While firm, he never applies enough force to hurt you - he knows what kind of men there were in this world, and he didn’t know what he would do if you ever thought of him like that. On the contrary, the feeling of his fingers around you is welcome, especially after what felt like years away from him. Giving him that same inquisitive look, except this time laced with a small smile, you can tell by the way he’s gnawing at his lip that he has something to say. Something that has him hesitating in a way you’ve never really seen him hesitate before, well, besides the first time you both kissed.

“Actually, mind if I join ya? ‘Cause ya see, the other shower don’t work and there’s this girl - my girl - she’s amazin’, but she doesn’t let me into our bed ‘til I shower and I’m damn tired.”

Oh.

Noticing the way you tense up slightly at his suggestion, he offers more, another reason to sway you into accepting as if the pursuit of his little fantasy would both begin and end with what drops from his lips. This definitely felt more daunting, like a much larger leap than him asking for permission to kiss you.

“I also heard showerin’ in pairs saves water.”

Oh.

Yeah, you get why he was hesitating now.

Honestly, Daryl really couldn’t give a fuck about the water he was talking about. What he had in his running mind had little to do with his environmental footprint and more to do with feeling your skin on his and the image of you coming undone for him. He hasn’t been home - been with you - in what felt like weeks, and he thought the generator could stand to work a little harder after running for one person for a few days. With a slight upwards twitch of his eyebrow, you can feel what little apprehension you had leave your body and his heart pounds in his ribcage with the anxiety of what’s to come. At least, he thinks that’s why its beating at 100 miles per hour.

It surely can’t be the residual hormonal anticipation or excitement from his youth.

“And who exactly did you hear that from?”

The slight joking edge to your voice causes him to smile, but it’s a mischievous one, one that holds promises and sends a shiver through your body. Daryl really had no clue what he did to you when he looked at you like that, his piercing blue gaze hitting you as his head tilts down almost sheepishly to the grip he has on you.

His eyes flick up to meet yours, a glint residing in them that draws you to look at nothing but him as he runs his thumb along the bone of your wrist. With a tilt of his head, he speaks, muttered as he gnaws once more at his lips and lets go of his hold.

“It matter?”

So nobody, probably.

The amusing thought sends you shaking your head ‘no’ as you smile, pulling open the plastic curtain in invitation while trying to suppress the idea that just popped into your head. Daryl just wants to shower and the only reason he wants to shower with you is to fulfill that promise he had made. Because he just wants to go to sleep. That’s all. Nothing more, nothing less. Hooking his fingers into the waistband of his boxers, he’s hopeful that you would be watching him - and he’s fully prepared to make a show of stripping his last piece of fabric - but he’s sorely disappointed when he sees your eyes closed in an attempt to keep the bubbling shampoo from burning at them.

Why weren’t you looking at him? Was he not overt enough?

Wow, he really wasn’t very good with… whatever it is he’s trying to do, huh?

You shuffle forward from the steady stream and he takes that as his cue to step in, gladly placing his body just a few inches from yours and sighing in relief when the water hits his sore muscles. The sounds don’t go unnoticed by you, and your heart sinks a little with each suppressed groan of pain Daryl lets out. He always worked so hard for Alexandria, and they still treated him like somewhat of an outsider, questioning his true intentions with harsh looks when he even so much as walked too close to them. But they didn’t seem to mind him much when they were eating the animals he hunted, though, and that sent your blood boiling.

Turning around, you try not to let your gaze drop too low as you place your hands on his shoulders, frowning when you feel the stiff knots that have burrowed their way underneath his skin. Almost immediately, Daryl submits to your touch, an all too familiar warmth bubbling in his heart as he, too, turns and exposes his scar ridden skin to you, allowing your thumbs to rub circles into his upper back. He always loved this - the domesticity of these moments, the wordless communications, your love and affection directed solely at him - and he’s starting to forget the real reason he crashed your shower in the first place, lulled into relaxation under your nimble fingers and the water beating down on his overworked muscles.

“Does that feel better?”

Your question warrants a response landing somewhere between a grunt and a groan, but then you laugh and he swears his heart swells tenfold. He missed hearing that. Even if you got embarrassed of it sometimes, or hid it muffled behind the palms of your hands, he loved hearing it. Because you glowed when you did, your eyes crinkling up at the corners with a smile that almost always brought him to his knees, and perhaps almost selfishly, the knowledge that he doesn’t want to be away from you any longer dawns on him - as well as the knowledge that it’s inevitable that he has to leave again soon. Whether it be with Aaron or Rick, or some of the poor bastards that piss their pants whenever they see him.

When you stop your ministrations, he feels himself frowning as you tap him once with your thumbs, but he elates almost immediately when you speak promise of a better massage come morning. He’s slightly ashamed of the way his whole body lights up in goosebumps in anticipation, but it’s not unwarranted. Spending late mornings with you was something Daryl never knew how the hell he had lived so long without, and they were his favourite types of mornings by a long shot. Especially when it ended up more often than not with you on him or him on you, the both of you thankful for the misfit house you had all to yourselves and away from prying eyes and eavesdropping ears.

“You’re too damn good to me.”

But he deserves it, you think to yourself, He deserved to be cared for like this.

His praise drips with a softness he didn’t even know he was capable of until you came along and Daryl turns back around to face you, smirking lopsided when he sees a shy smile worm its way onto your face. He had to have known what he was doing when he said stuff like that - especially when he used a voice like that. Seriously, how long had the two of you been together? It felt like an eternity already, but he could still make you flustered from a simple compliment. Shaking your head, you rest your wrists at the nape of his neck and use the leverage to pull his lips to yours, thumb swiping at the blood dried at his cheek and hoping the distraction of your tongue on his will keep him from teasing the warmth crawling up your neck.

A ‘hm?’ noise falls from him, small and surprised as his eyebrows raise for just a moment before his hands loop around your waist by instinct. When you pull away, another noise falls from Daryl, but this time it’s more disappointed than anything, and he chases your lips with his bottom one jutted out, taking full advantage of the strong arms he has wrapped around you. Holding you in place, his eyes plead with the now perfected ‘one more’ look you’re all too familiar with and you can’t bring yourself to deny him - he knows you can’t. Closing his eyes and puckering his lips as he waits patiently, he hums when you finally kiss him again, his satisfaction vibrating down to the hollow center of your collarbones before begrudgingly letting you go when you pull away again.

The water runs a brownish red from the dried walker blood being washed off his body and he scrubs furiously at his arms, trying to gauge the right move that will get your thighs shaking and your moans bouncing off the ceramic tiles he’s seen less than he’s willing to admit. Should he just… go for it? Just pull you against him and push you up against the walls he wants your noises to echo off of? No, he should come up with a better idea. You deserved a better idea.

Running his thumb along his jaw, Daryl sneaks furtive glances at your body - who the hell he was hiding them from, he didn’t know - and picks even more skin off his chapped lips as he watches you twist at your waist ever so slightly to comb through your hair. Swallowing down his spit like some teenager, he watches your shoulder blades protrude and disappear, intently following the droplets of water as they fall along your neck and down the muscles you’ve developed. He had to hand it to the sorry rich prick who had designed this house because, all things considered, they did a pretty good job; there was just enough spread of it between the two of you to pass as a decent shower. Even if you or him had to oddly angle yourselves to warm a cool patch of skin.

Reaching towards the shampoo bottle, his arm brushes against your waist almost feather-light, but it sends a shiver through you, rattling your ribs and making your cheeks flush all the same. Daryl lingers for a moment longer than you expect, his body leaning as he stretches over and you think he’s going to step forward - wrap you up in him - but dutifully, respectfully, anxiously he stays put. You want his touch, especially after nights alone with only the scent of him on his side of the bed to keep you company, and, having caught a quick glance at his straining boxers before he joined, there’s little room for doubt in your mind that he wants you. But still, it exists.

Your own arms begin to sore when he finally pulls away, his hands now raking through the hair he seemingly never wants to cut. Clearing your throat, you turn around, eyes screwed shut as you face Daryl, fearing for both the shampoo you’re washing out stinging at your eyes and the fact that if you looked at him, your gaze would probably drop. God, was all it took just a few days without him to have you craving him like this? The close proximity coupled with the knowledge he’s standing next to you naked makes you tense up before a shiver runs up your spine, your thoughts causing your breath to hitch for barely a second. Despite your efforts to suppress it, your subconscious prays that he picks up on the little noise. Please let him pick up on it.

And he does, ever observant as he connects the dots, the initially surprised look on his face melting into a small anticipatory smirk before he all but races to lather his hair in the coconut - or was it grapefruit? - scent. This was good. This was damn good.

He dares take a step forward, tentative, testing out the waters as if he was unsure of your desire, but he knows he can read you, and that he can do it well. This was when he should do something, right? The subtle confirmations - a tense, a shiver, a hitching breath - beg him to. Under the streaming shower, Daryl impatiently scrubs at his scalp, teeth hooked permanently atop his lip as he watches the rivulets of watered-down shampoo catch along your skin, his fingers and mouth itching to replicate its path down your neck to your chest. He knows that path well, and perhaps that’s what makes him even more envious.

Thank God for the fact you’ve closed your eyes because if anybody saw Daryl right now, they would take a step back, maybe even several thinking he was angry. How could they not when he was glaring at you as if you had done something horrible? It’s a surprise to him, the fact that it seemed like you really could not feel the burn of his stare, but then a thought pops into his lust-fogged brain. Maybe you did know. And maybe you were toying with him, playing coy and pushing him to a teetering edge, letting him taste the tension on his tongue until he could hold back no more.

To say he’s impatient is an understatement. He isn’t simply impatient, no, he’s impatient. He wants to do something. He wants you to do something, to initiate the flurry of hands and lips he’s craving so desperately and, seemingly blind to that triad of signals, he scrubs frantic at his hair in an attempt to control himself. As he rinses out the shampoo, he manages to cling onto what little restraint he had over his body until you turn back around. It was like the universe was egging him on, trying to break his resolve by showing him those dimples on your lower back, reminding him of the way he gripped them when he took you that night before he left - and it works. Jesus fucking Christ does it work.

Daryl’s body crowds you then, muscular arms wrapped around either side of your waist and rough hands palming at your chest before sliding down to your stomach, pulling you flush into him while he grinds his hips experimentally against your body. The feeling catches you off-guard, eyes widening in surprise as you let out a gasp into the steam of hot water and you grip harshly at his forearm, attempting to steady yourself from the sensations blossoming from your thighs. He can feel them tense and begin to snap closed against him, but you hear the corners of his mouth twitch upwards with satisfaction.

“What- what are you doing?”

Restless, his fingers travel downwards, hooking a strong thigh between your two legs as he ignores your question, them parting immediately to accommodate him. Daryl’s veins thrum with adrenaline, feeling the all too familiar effects of your warm skin when he realizes you’re letting him do this - enjoying him, even - your hands pawing at his to beg him to speed up, to bring you that nirvana he loves to be the reason for. Heat flushes your body, knowing full well what he’s capable of, but despite it, your skin erupts into goosebumps under his touch, desperate for more.

“What’s it look like ‘m doin’?”

Your neck comes under his affection next, his lips meeting it as he mumbles the words against your pulse point, tongue darting out when he feels it speed up. Almost methodically, Daryl finds the marks he’d left days prior, darkening them with unadulterated determination and rolling his hips against you once more. The heavy motion draws a whine from you, short and needy as your nails dig into his wrist and he all but basks in it. God, this felt good. How the hell had he spent so long without you? Without your skin under his? Everything about you feels like a fucking drug to him.

“D-Daryl- what would your girl say.”

He smiles against your neck, a warm pride bubbling in his chest when he hears the slight shake in your voice. It always got like this when he was touching you, and he liked to think it was the anticipation raking through your body. All the possibilities he could bring to you. He loved listening to your voice as it was, but hearing it quaver as it bounced off the ceramic walls, mingled perfectly with the rhythmic thrum of water crashing against the two of you? It was almost alarming how quickly it made his head spin.

Submitting to your urging, he lets you slide his hands down to the apex of your thighs, groaning guttural into your ear when he feels your hips lift and rut into his touch, unintentionally grinding your ass onto his cock when you push yourself back onto him. Hooking his chin over your shoulder, you hear his breaths as he digs his palm an inch below your pelvis, thick fingers gripping harsh at your inner thighs as he nudges his further between them. It feels like fucking magic, whatever he’s doing, and a plea tingles at your lips before you bite it down. Daryl’s never been this bold, and this is new territory for the two of you. Very new. So you were going to let him take his time - let him explore every inch of your skin as if he didn’t already have it memorized - despite the fact every cell in your body screams for you to sink down on him right here and now.

His grip disappears too quickly for your taste, but before you can even register the decadent sear that marks his blunt fingernails and calluses, his palm makes home just below your stomach and he swipes two fingers against you, spreading you for him but avoiding that bundle of nerves you want so desperately for him to touch. An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips as he gathers evidence of your arousal, and the sound of him makes you claw at his wrist, your hands still blanketing his as you try to angle him to do something other than coat his fingers and smear you across your inner thighs. Amused, his middle finger curls, breaching you just until his first joint before pulling away, relishing in the way you clench as if trying to keep him in you.

“Hm, I dunno. What do ya think she’d say? I think she likes it.”

You can hear the self-satisfied smirk on his face as he feels your body react and you can practically see it behind your closed eyelids. Daryl knows all your buttons, every single movement that renders you down to a puddle of mush, but he’s avoiding them. His jaw clenches and unclenches as you buck your hips up to try and meet the talented fingers only getting further and further and further from you. Skin warm from the streaming water and the sheer amount of lust coursing through him, his left arm snakes upward, resting just under your breasts before pulling your shoulders flush against him. His teeth sneak out from behind his lips, grazing against that spot that made your thighs shake the first time you slept with him, and you become putty in his hands.

A gasp of Daryl’s name falls before a staggered whimper erupts from your throat, his hands moving so fast and sure along your body as if he had molded you to his perfection. Everything hits you at the same time, his sharp canines right below your jaw bone before they melt into the caress of slightly chapped lips, the hand at your chest palming and tweaking and toying like there was no tomorrow, his fingers swirling, nudging at that tiny bundle of nerves you’ve been silently begging him to touch just once, and you can’t stop the noises falling from your lips. No matter how much you try, they escape.

“Or d’ya think she’s too busy moanin’ for me to tell me?”

Oh, that fucking prick.

To make it worse, you can’t even bring yourself to be angry for that long because his voice drops into that low, husky whisper that makes your knees go weak. Had Daryl not essentially smothered you against his body, you just know you would be a puddle, pliable and aching after just a few days away from him. A jolt of pleasure rockets through you the moment you realize what he wants - to make you as desperate as he is for this - and you know he knows exactly how to get it. Biting your lip, you trap your sounds in your throat just to spite him and you dig your fingers into his forearm, seeking in any way to find another outlet for all the compounding stimulation he just keeps giving you.

Your heartbeat drums through your ears and you can barely register the growl against your skin, but the vibration of it is inescapable. He feels the crescent shapes already forming from your nails on his tan skin and he pulls his face from you, breath fanning your ear in preparation to express how disappointed he is at you robbing him of your noises, but you beat him to it, freeing the words that burn at your tongue to knock him off his high-horse. Daryl was never a very confident man, but fuck if it does not make your skin tingle.

“I think she’d tell you to- to shut up.”

The rebuke is futile, a stutter brought on by the push and pull of his deft fingers and he laughs. Daryl chuckles into your skin before everything from him detaches, only for him to grab at your waist and spin you around to face him, adjusting his hold to crowd you once more. Your back hits the ceramic tiles, a sharp whine escaping you at the contrasting cold, and you can see that smirk you had envisioned on his face when you open your eyes, taking in every inch of the swept back hair now falling into his face as he tilts his forehead slowly to yours. Running your non-dominant hand up from his arm to his face, you push the strands back, smiling slightly at the way he melts as his eyelids flutter shut for just a second. As much as he said he hated how damn soft you made him, he sought after your touch, your hands much too intoxicating for him to deny them.

You glow a ring of delicate orange from the lantern shining behind him, the light bouncing off your glistening skin and those sparkling damn eyes that shine with unguarded affection despite your ‘annoyance’ from just moments ago. Creating shadows over your body with his broad figure as he blankets you, Daryl nearly groans with delight at the image - the realization that you look impossibly better with the warm hue making his head spin. And when he remembers that you’re his to love? He tries to hide just how much it makes his mind run, but his voice comes spilling out without much thought, everything about you shrinking the filter between his brain and mouth that he so tenaciously keeps on during the day.

“That so? ‘Cause if I do then I can’t tell ‘er how much I missed her. Or what I was thinkin’ when I thought about ‘er at night.”

Daryl was already so worked up at the thought of doing this to you, you didn’t even need to actually do anything to him to have him throbbing against your stomach, begging to be touched after days of only imagined scenarios to keep him company. So you indulge him, tracing your dominant hand down the V-line of his pelvis and biting your tongue when his hips snap into your grasp, his grip at your waist tightening as he tries to still himself. He wants you to touch him, to let you give him what you want to give him and he tries his damndest to control himself, instead using his words to try and rile you up.

“Nothin’ I do feels as good as her. Nothin’ I’ve tried’s ever been close.”

Your whole body shivers at the insinuation, the ceramic sandwiching you to Daryl ceasing to feel as cold as it did when he first pushed you against it. He feels like centuries have passed when your hand finally wraps around him, running your fingers in a stroke that has him groaning and nearly keeling over you with how much that simple damn action makes heat pool in the pit of his stomach. Everything about this feels heightened, the steam of the shower failing in comparison to the heat pinging between the two of you. His eyes seek yours, cock twitching and catapulting him much farther to his climax than he would like to admit when he sees you watching your grasp, lips parted ever so slightly, pleading with him to lay his on them.

Heart thrumming in his chest, another groan of an expletive followed by your name drops from Daryl before his hips jerk forward, stuttering into your grip with no real rhythm as he pushes a rough kiss onto your mouth. When you let out a little surprised squeal, he pulls himself back immediately, as if shocked by his own lack of self-control, but your hand never stops, and your face leans closer towards his, the feeling of his ruined sounds vibrating along your tongue making you chase him. This must have been how he felt when he had you whimpering for him on those late nights and early mornings. No wonder you both loved them so much.

Twisting your other hand from the side of his neck to his nape, you pull him to you with equal fervor, the stroking of his cock forgotten in favour of his chapped lips turning into something more sinful with each movement of his talented mouth. His fingers begin to wander now, eagerly grasping at the two dimples at your lower back before his palms find all too familiar territory kneading and massaging your ass. Knees nearly buckling, you remember the leaking heaviness twitching in your grip and you nudge him between your thighs, your legs spreading just a bit wider as you inch him closer and closer and closer to where you need it most.

“N-no, wait- I gotta-“

His hands shoot downwards to still yours and he pulls his hips from you, his statement stuttered through a sharp, shaky breath. Whining, you nearly beg for him before you realize he succeeded in what he set out to do - and he was only gone four days, your subconscious chastises. Your head is swimming in desperation for him as you shake it, hair whipping into your face and onto the wall while you vehemently disagree with both his words and your own internal mocking. All coherent thoughts leave your mind, washed away in the stream of water running down your body and you come to the conclusion that you don’t fucking care if he would poke fun at you come morning, you need to feel him.

“Daryl you don’t need to- you can just- I can-“

You don’t need to keep-

You can just-

I can-

God, you sounded pathetic, your voice barely breaking above breathy through the heavy beating of water, and he loves it, it’s enticing him; he could die right now and he would feel nothing but satisfaction. Daryl was never a very confident man - well, with people at least - but around you, he felt wanted. Not just in moments like this when you craved him so debaucherously, but in moments when you would pull close to him while you were sleeping or hug him from the back. Just giving him your affection so freely and not expecting any back. It made his heart damn near break everytime he had to leave. Adjusting his grip on you, he digs his knee into the wall, perching you on either side of him and leaning closer and closer to your burning skin.

“Gotta get ya ready. Jus’- jus’ be a good girl an’ be patient. Don’t want ya limpin’ tomorrow ”

Despite his words, Daryl can’t help but think that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. It wouldn’t be so bad to linger beside you the whole day, a constant reminder of the real reason you needed him to get you things, or why you would grip his arm as a piss poor substitute for a crutch when the two of you walked along the street. Nobody else would know - at least, neither of you would ever tell - but the satisfied puff of his chest and the fact he stands just a little bit prouder might make them connect the dots. That, and the lovebites that creep out from underneath the neckline of your shirt which, coincidentally, only seemed to darken after he came back. Nah, he thinks to himself, it wouldn’t be so damn bad.

“I thought you were tired.”

There’s a hint of concern in your voice, peeking out from between the teasing and he grunts, acknowledging your words before his hands wrap around your wrists and urges them to loop around his neck. He knows he needs to do this, the action a silent beg for you to just relax and let him treat you right in the way you know he always will. With his neck flush in the crooks of your elbows, you tug him, pulling his face to yours and raking your fingers through his wet hair.

“Never too tired for you.”

His stubble scrapes against your nose as he mumbles his confession between kisses down from your forehead, a delicious burn leaving a trail that makes your heart beat impossibly faster between your ribs. Grip falling to your waist, Daryl’s rough fingers inch towards the apex of your thighs, but he moves them so fucking slow you're tempted to just reach down and push them into you like you intended to do with his cock. Before you can entertain the idea any longer, he catches your lips in a clash of tongue and teeth and knowingly smirks against your lips. He’s dedicated, attentive, and what kind of man would have the heart to deny you? He would do anything for you, all you had to do was ask.

Daryl eagerly swallows the moan you let out against his lips when his middle finger curls into you, the vibrations spreading along his tongue and consuming him from the inside out. Your thighs spread wider for him, welcoming him - no, begging him - for more and it riles him up almost comically well. Whether it was intentional or not, he would never know. He pulls his face away just inches, breath heavy against your parted lips before he sends you a small smile, an underlying mischief peeking out from the tiniest sliver of teeth he exposes. Leaning more of his weight onto his knee, his left hand travels around your waist to your ass, digging his dull fingernails into the flesh and pulling towards him, bringing your hips off the cold ceramic and snaking that arm into the curve he’s just created.

Before you can even brace yourself, he pushes a second finger in, curling languid with accelerating speed, revelling in the heat you bring him with an audible groan that reverberates off the shower walls. Already so desperate, the feeling nearly makes your legs shake under your own weight, but Daryl’s prepared - he could keep you up with the hand he has splayed across your upper back and he’s secretly proud of it. His mouth returns to you again, tongue surging to meet yours as if just the taste of your kiss would satisfy his desire to taste what’s beginning to coat down his palm.

It doesn’t, but it’s a damn good substitute.

Nails scratching pathetically at his scalp, your lungs beg for oxygen, but you ignore your body’s pleading for as long as you can. You need Daryl. Just him. Just him. His fingers are ardent, all of them pushing and pulling and toying and touching you in a way that skyrockets you into an overwhelming nirvana and it feels good. It feels so good to be with him again, surrounded by his scent and his heat, that you start to entertain the thought of begging for him. You try to do just that, but every sound coming from your lips is only absorbed greedily by his before you pull him away by his hair, taking large gulps of oxygen as he does the same.

Not even a second passes before you’re grinding down into his palm with pleas falling into the steam of the shower, all your words going straight down to his cock. Gritting his teeth, he growls at your desperation, lips shooting down along your collarbone before catching the skin between teeth. He has your whole body memorized, proof of that fact littered across your body in the form of lovebites, memories seared into your mind of his everything and it’s almost too much to handle. Almost. But you need more. And Daryl knows, much too perceptive in all senses of the word.

His left arm snakes up to your neck, the nape of it secured in a grip firm enough to pull your hips down onto his muscular thigh, spreading you and rubbing that sensitive bundle of nerves with his rough skin. Something between a swear and Daryl’s name chokes through your throat and he curls his two fingers just enough for you to repeat the sound, the movement perhaps pulling your hips forwards toward him. With the way you grind down so readily on him, it wasn’t easy to tell whether the roll of your lower body was from his fingers or the lust running through your veins. A satisfied smirk worms its way onto his face that you want to kiss off, but your head is stuck against the ceramic tiling by his hand tugging securely on your hair. Not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you.

He can feel it now, the fact that you’re close, and it only makes him work harder. Maybe it was selfish of him, expediting your pleasure so he can finally seek out his, but he’s damn near shaking with the thought of finally being able to be with you in one of the ways he always wants to be. Sometimes Daryl felt like a teenager with all this certain enthusiasm he can’t seem to control with you around, but you had never complained - you made him feel alive in all the best ways - and he thanked whoever was pulling the strings in his favour for bringing him to you. Circling his thigh, he pushes everything he can up into you, the pressure making you feel like you’re floating. Fingers carding through his hair, your whole body tightens around him in a silent plea, and he's pretty sure he would have to be just about the biggest idiot in existence to ever deny you.

“Give it to me. C’mon, give it to me. Ya wanted my cock didn’t ya? Jus’ give it to me an’ I’ll make ya feel even better.”

Give it to me.

Daryl’s voice makes your mind swim, the growl rough and dangerous like everyone always tends to think he is, and incoherence drops from your lips, echoing against the confines of the walls as his breath fans your ear. Rutting your hips up to his hand, the knot in your abdomen snaps, the proclamation of it escaping you in a broken moan of his name. He can feel your body’s reactions before you start to get those familiar sparking waves of pleasure, the clench of you around him growing sporadic as he continues to unravel you with his teeth gritted, the unrelenting precision of his fingers sending you clawing and tugging at his scalp with no regard of your strength for just a moment.

His groan at the sensations edges out the haze of your climax and you immediately detach from him, pulling your body back from his so abruptly that he slips from you. Scrunching his nose in disappointment, his large hands cling at the back of your thighs, bringing your chest and forehead to his as if he couldn’t stand being apart from you for even just a few seconds.

“Sorry- sorry if that hurt I didn’t mean to-”

Face inches from yours, he shakes his head and cuts you off with a series of hungry pecks. One to your sinfully soft lips, then to the corner of your mouth, then one to your jawbone, devouring your apology right then and there as he overtakes your senses.

“‘S alright. It felt good.”

Then he kisses you again, urgent all the same, but he only pushes a firm brush of his mouth against yours. The movement is like a signature, as if it were his name scribbled easily along at the bottom of a letter - a soft possession that you wear along the tingles of your lips. It makes you claw at him again, tugging on the sides of his hips to pull him flush against you, fingernails digging crescent shapes he wants to see come morning, and your apprehension all but dissolves into the hot water of the shower. You were his, he was yours and in his mind, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to show him just what he does to you.

“Anythin’ ya do feels good.”

It’s stupid, how you could be in the middle of something so intimate and a simple compliment from him could leave you flushed from the neck upwards, but he loves it. He loves the little whimper you let out at his words and he smiles that lopsided boyish grin that makes your heart skip a beat. When he smiles at you like that, it makes you feel like the only person in the entire world. No walkers, no Alexandrians, no runs or patients at the infirmary to steal you or him away from the other. There was no one except you and Daryl - and it’s been too damn long since it was like this.

Body flush against yours, he snakes a hand down between his legs and the other grips at your thigh, hooking it around his torso and begging with a roll of his hips for you to rest your leg there. Each breath he takes sends a jolt of pleasure blossoming against your ribs, his skin rubbing against your chest so deliciously it makes your mouth fall open in silent pants of air. You don’t know when you closed your eyes, but they open when Daryl says your name, broken by a curse that falls somewhere after the first letter. He looks good like this - eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenched.

Gritting his teeth, his mouth can barely form a coherent sentence with how much excitement is coursing through him, and he’s trying his fucking best to hold back from slamming into you until you give him a nod or a pull or anything, but then something in him breaks. The feeling of just having you so damn close worms its way into his brain and he takes himself in his fist, dragging along to gather the remnants of your climax and notches himself, all the while groaning from the heat emanating off you.

“‘S this okay? Need t’know if this’s okay.”

Slurred speech. It was so uncharacteristic of the Daryl everyone else knew - the Daryl who was so sure of himself, the Daryl who wore a permanent scowl on his face, the Daryl who was so mysterious, never speaking anything above a growl - and you think you could have laughed had it not been for the fact the words themselves dig up memories of all the times he had said them to you before. Every cell in your body lights up, high alert now that he’s in you, but he’s not moving. He’s not inching into you or filling you in the only way he can and you push your hips towards him, greedy movements making you swallow more of him. Taking a sharp breath, he lets you rut against him, but still, he doesn’t fucking move.

“God, Daryl- yes. Yes, it’s okay. More- more than okay.”

Sometimes you hated him, and then hated how stupid you felt for hating him.

He waits for your words. He always does. Without fail he checks on you before he slides into you. He never wants to take because he always wants to be good for you, but sometimes you wish he would. Sometimes you wish he would just take from you - take everything you have. There is nothing in this world that is not shared between the two of you. Daryl’s wholly yours as you are wholly his.

Curses drop from his lips, your name thrown in once or twice as if he’s reminding himself you’re real as he feels you around him. They fly out of his mouth like the bolts from his crossbow and ricochet off every wall as he begins to move, slow at first, experimental maybe with his hand secure against your thigh, then he starts building and building into a heavy, sinful rhythm. Shakily, Daryl groans, the breath he lets out tendrilling at your chin before he sucks frantically at your bottom lip, your noises meeting his as they hit the ceramic wall.

He wants to live in this moment forever; immortalize the way you look and sound on one of those VHSes, write the damn date on it, and hide it away for his and your eyes only so it’s rewatchable and revisitable and reliveable. It's not enough to just sear you into his memory like he’s done so many times before because you’re damn near perfect. Like you were made for him - for him to give you everything he wants to give to you.

“Fuck- fuck- you feel better’n I remembered. How’s‘at possible?”

The words escape him, rushing out as if you’ve put a spell on him, and they almost escape you, too, your pulse beating in your ears. But he’s so close to you, growling out through gritted teeth into your ear and pushing his lips to the curve of your jawbone like they need to be on your skin. He pulls his body away, chest leaving yours, and you pull at his waist to bring him back, whining lewd for him and only him, shameless and betraying the blush you feel as you register his stutters, but he doesn’t. Instead, Daryl smiles, that same damn grin with his teeth hooked along his bottom lip and eyes hooded as he watches every change in expression. You groan, half in the way he rolls his pelvis just enough to rub against that small bundle of nerves that beg for him, and half in annoyance at the way that lascivious expression seems to make every electron in you buzz.

“Shut- shut up.”

He lets out a sharp breath, a singular amused ‘ha’ following it, cock hardening and twitching even more at the fact he’s making you blush like that first night he had lavished every inch of your body with his lips - like you didn’t deserve every single damn word escaping from him. Leaning his weight against his left forearm that lies on the side of your head, Daryl brings his face to yours, nipping at your lips and seeking your tongue before he starts speaking.

“You should see yourself like this, y’know. Fuckin’ perfect for me.”

For a man who only ever growls and mutters, he certainly liked to talk a lot when he was pounding into you the way only he knows how and you’re just so damn unbelievable for him. For him. You’re his to love and it sparks something within in him that makes his tongue fucking run and his hips speed up involuntarily. Hell, you probably heard more of his voice in this shower tryst than the whole first nightwatch you had with him. You’re not even sure the water is beating down onto you anymore because the heat of your body makes the shower pale in comparison.

The sweat accumulating on his back and chest and everywhere is washed away almost immediately as it forms and you’re grasping for something to hold onto. Clawing, you wrap both your arms under and around his shoulders and scratch desperately at his back, grinding up against him and making jumbled noises of moans and Daryl’s name when he drags against that spot he knows so well. It’s skin on skin, the ceramic wall ceasing to feel cold as you screw your eyes shut and let yourself mount and mount with each roll of his hips. You hear a nearly feral growl, feeling your leg being hiked up higher by the elbow hooked underneath your thigh, and a loud noise breaks from your throat when his thumb swipes where his cock meets you.

“C’mon, we ain’t got all night.”

You’re close and he knows it. It was like he was rubbing it in your face, the fact he could make you like this - how quickly he could reduce you into the incoherent, ruined state you always seemed to become for him. Attentive. He’s always attentive. You can tell by the way he’s memorized everything that makes you shake and capitalizes on them, thrusts coupled with the tight circles pulling you closer and closer to that precipice of pleasure, but he says those words anyways, hoping to get a reaction from you. Daryl’s not an impatient lover - he would spend hours buried in you if you let him - but he’s so damn close and perhaps almost selfishly, he wants to watch you succumb first. He wants to watch the water race down your body as you writhe for him against the wall, and he wants that to send him over the edge.

“Then- then do better, Daryl.”

You bite back, your breath grazing against his neck and a wet heat rushes through him, making him groan nearly wrecked as his hair tickles your cheek. Reaching behind his muscular body to his shoulder blades, one of his large hands is more than enough to wrap around both of your wrists and he takes them in his grasp, moving them until they’re secure against the ceramic wall behind you. You’re warm for him. Pliable for him despite the veil of distaste in your voice and he can’t get enough of it.

Daryl’s so fucking happy you bite back.

His hips stop and you let out an almost childish cry, but he stays buried deep, filling you up to the brim as the water beats down on the both of you and holding you against the tiles by the weight he’s pressing from where you meld to him. His face is so close to your ear now. So much so that you can feel the breath when he speaks, a dangerous growl resounding through your body before his teeth graze along your neck.

“Hm? I ain’t never heard a complaint from you be- before. That a- fuck- are ya challengin’ me?”

An expletive drops from Daryl’s lips when you clench around him, no doubt from the sudden crash of your mounting pleasure, and he pushes impossibly further into you, firmly pinning you down until he knows you won’t be able to move anymore. He wants to show you he can stop at any moment, that he can make you work for it, but you both know he’ll give in. Maybe you didn’t know the extent of which you have him wrapped around your finger, but if you even knew half of it, you would know he would never stop. Not when he was so desperate for you he can barely think of anything except the way you look and feel. At least, not unless you wanted him to.

“Are you g-gonna take it up?”

Although your mouth ceases there, your brain runs, pleas tickling at the tip of your tongue, but you can barely manage to form the meager few syllables that have already escaped you. Eyebrows knotted at your forehead, you try desperately to coax more movement from him - a whine, a whimper, a thrash of your pinned hands flattened by his strong grip - but Daryl’s so damn still and it’s driving you crazy. When your body settles for only ragged breathing and shaking thighs, he takes it as his cue to lean down, lips brushing yours in a kiss that’s so affectionate you forget that, just moments ago, he was relentlessly pounding into you.

“Don’t know. Seems like you might be wantin’ it more’n me.”

Smiling against your mouth, he pulls away just enough to speak. A challenge in his words so obvious to you that you try in vain to buck your hips to his. If he didn’t sound so good and look so good and feel so damn good, you would have denied it, but you’re strung so taut, so close to the peak, that you can barely form a retort. A stupid, handsome smirk rests on his lips as he waits. Patient. Like it wasn’t affecting him, being buried in you. He’s just waiting for your words - goading you as he watches from underneath his lashes.

“Daryl, I swear to God if you stop right-“

The insincere threat is enough to spur him into action. Partly due to the fact you sound so desperate and ruined for him, and partly because he just needs to feel you again - he would lay you down and take you the way you deserved on the bed come morning, but right now was a different matter entirely. Swearing, his smirk drops in favour of a scowl, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he snaps up into you in quick succession. The hand at your thigh is roaming now, massaging and palming wherever his nimble fingers can worm their way onto before it splays across your ass, using the grip to pull your body impossibly closer to his. Daryl would have made you beg for him - he wanted to - but he can’t stop himself. Not when you look so pretty up against the wall and you’re taking his cock so well.

“Been gone four days an’ you’re already so damn needy.”

Whether that statement was directed at you or himself, you would never know.

An abashed whimper escapes through you and you want to deny it, perhaps just to see what would happen, but you can’t. You can’t because Daryl’s right. He knows he is, and you know he is. You thrash your arms so you can touch him, feel his skin underneath your fingers, but his grip around your wrists keeps you firm against the ceramic tiling - just enough to keep you pinned so he can admire the way you squirm for him. Grunts and groans of your name escape from him with each thrust, the feeling of your body melded to his much too intoxicating for him to keep his mouth shut.

“What, you embarrassed now? Wanna cover your mouth? Keep them noises from me when you’re soundin’ so damn pretty? Ya better not be thinkin’ about it. ‘Cause ya damn well ain’t gotta.”

Daryl tilts his head, eyes squinting in faux-concern and mocking you as his hips relentlessly hit up into yours, pushing out the breath from your lungs which escape in tantalizing gasps with each roll. You’re so close, and the only thing you can do is moan at the sound of his rough voice, the coil tightening in your abdomen because of his determined thrusts. You just need a little more - just a little more - and he reads you like a book.

Without warning, the hand pinning your wrists frees itself, his finger pinpointing back between your thighs with an unadulterated eagerness to pull your climax from you and you damn near cry out Daryl’s name as you claw at his back. It’s like second nature to him, the way he can touch you and make you crumble for him. Practice does make perfect, and he’s always been a persistent man.

“Ya sure as hell weren’t when you were bein’ a brat.”

Everything he’s doing to you is almost effortless. It makes your legs shake and without warning, your thighs tense up, a white hot surge of pleasure erupting from the base of your stomach and you gasp a broken moan of Daryl’s name as you clutch at his neck in an effort to keep yourself from collapsing onto him. He holds you close, chest pushed up to yours and breathing ruined into your ear as he works you through your climax with dextrous fingers, chasing his own as his rhythm begins to falter. Sporadic thrusts meet each flutter of your clenching warmth. until he can’t hold out anymore.

Screwing his eyes shut, a stuttered chanting of profanities mixed in perfectly with pleads of your name fan out from his mouth and he pulls out, rubbing himself harsh against your thigh before your fingers wrap around his cock. Fuck, Daryl nearly crumbles right then and there, a ragged groan rushing from him before his hips jerk upwards to your touch - nothing could even compare to it and he thinks nothing could ever come close. Nothing except you. Pulsing in your grasp, both of his rough hands dig into either of your thighs and he stills, teeth gritted as the evidence of his pleasure hits your stomach before being washed away in the steady stream of water.

Satisfied, you smile and lean towards him, your head coming off the ceramic wall, and he parts his lips immediately for your tongue, but you pull away after giving him a quick peck. Scrunching his nose, Daryl pats lightly at your thigh for your attention and seeks your lips once more, moving his with the same amount of overwhelming love and affection he always does. It makes you feel warm inside, like you were the only one in the world for him. And you were. At least, in his mind you were.

He releases the grip he has on your thigh and slowly lowers it, his hand still ghosting close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. Both legs still shaking slightly, your foot hits the floor of the shower and you lean your weight on it, tentative and experimentally at first before you overestimate its security and half-fall-half-stumble into him. Daryl notices, of course he does, and he swallows down the pride welling in his chest as his sure grasp steadies you against his body.

“Hey, hey, I got ya. Jus’- jus’- I got ya.”

By instinct, he speaks, the rumble of his chest against yours making your heart well up with the familiar fondness you always experience when it comes to him. Daryl wasn’t a man of many words even though you had managed to break him out of his shell a little - at least with you - but there was no doubt in your mind that he genuinely and wholeheartedly cared about you. In his eyes, you had strung the stars into the sky and he always treated you with a softness he never thought himself capable of.

With one hand on his waist and one on his shoulder, you use Daryl as a crutch, continuing to lean your weight on your legs until they cease to shake. When you can stand on your own, albeit with wobbly legs, you link your fingers in both of his and meet his protective gaze - alert as if prepared to catch you again if your body gave any type of signal. He smiles when he sees the expression on your face and brings your knuckles to his lips, pressing a firm kiss onto the back of each of your hands before letting go and reaching for the bar of soap you two had ignored in exchange for something more riveting.

“Here, let me- I’ll help ya wash up.”

It meets your shoulder and it’s cold as he trails it down, lathering your right arm before moving across your chest and to your left. Smiling at his concern, you hum, nodding your head and content at the feeling of his tenderness as he continues to dutifully run the suds down along your body. Daryl unabashedly goes about copping a feel or two when his hand just so happens to fall onto your chest or your ass, a boyish grin meeting your quirked eyebrow when you question his intentions with a look. If you actually, truly cared to ask him, he would say he was helping you wash your body and making sure he was doing it to the best of his ability - quality assurance or some shit like that.

He helps you lather, too, calloused fingers rubbing off dead skin much better than yours could as he focuses the showerhead on him. You laugh when he pulls you into him, water streaming down your body along with his hands as the bubbles wash off your body and you run the bar of soap along the broad expanse of his shoulders, doing your fair share of subtle… touching too. Daryl all but melts into your caring hands, revelling in the way your attention is solely focused on him before he grunts, as if signalling you to look at him. When you do, his hands loop around your waist, head tilted to one side as he gingerly rubs those little shapes he always love to draw onto your skin.

“Y’alright? Was, uh, was that alright, I mean.”

Allowing you to maneuver him under the shower, he begrudgingly lets go of you to rinse off all the soap and feels genuinely clean for the first time in what felt like days. Smiling, you respond, saluting playfully and laying a small peck onto the corner of his lips before you spin around, pulling the curtain open just enough to reach for the towel lying just a few inches away on the towel rack but still keeping the warmth from the water in.

“Yes, sir!”

His cock twitches at the name, betraying the slur of fatigue in his voice and he sighs at himself, turning the shower knob off and opening the curtain fully, reaching for his own towel that hangs next to yours. He always did feel like a teenager when it came to you, and usually he didn’t mind it, but he really was tired before this and his back is killing him, so maybe another time.

Drying your body, you turn your head towards him and smile before making quick work of your wet hair and stepping out, pulling your underwear on from where you left it on the bathroom counter. It’s a small smile, one fully innocent and only ever reserved for him, but that look makes your words replay in his mind. A shudder runs through him as he tries to ease a smile onto his face too, admiring the scene of you for a moment. It’s domesticity, showing him a homelife he could actually feel loved and safe in; reminding Daryl something like that actually existed for him.

He imagines meeting you in a different world, wooing you like you deserved through coffee dates and Radiohead concerts, not through killing reanimated corpses or guarding Alexandria’s walls together, and his whole body calms down.

But then you pull on a shirt that’s much too big for you - one of his shirts that you said you liked wearing because it smelled like him - and he swallows his spit as if he hadn’t seen you naked just moments ago, a familiar shudder running through him again. Definitely another time. Near future, preferably.

Hopefully.

“You coming?”

Your voice breaks Daryl out of his daydream and he grunts an answer, smirking at the joke that just popped into his head as he replies with a curt ‘I just did’ and catches the pair of boxers you throw at him in response. Rolling your eyes, you comb your fingers through your hair and try to dry it as much as you can with the towel before reaching for your toothbrush. He follows suit, dressed in only his boxers as he brushes his teeth and shakes his wet hair at you like a dog, causing you to whip water at him off your fingertips after you wash off the excess toothpaste dribbling at the corners of your mouth. Smiling internally, he spits, tasting mint on his tongue that he'd much rather replace with the taste of your lips, even though he knows full well you’re just as minty as he is.

“Thank you.”

Meeting his eye in the mirror, you give him a confused look, eyebrows raised in an expression he thought was much too cute on your face for your own good. Your hands don’t still as you continue to rub out the water in your hair, determined not to go to bed with it too wet and risking it to clump up and dry tangled.

“For lettin’ me, uh, do that.”

His naturally gravelly voice clears up, turning slightly more timid than you were used to and you notice the shift in his behaviour. He avoids your gaze, waiting for your response as he fiddles with the lantern he now has in his grasp, unsure of what you would say and you decide your hair is dry enough. Hanging your towel back onto the rack next to his, you grab his free hand and lead the two of you back towards the bed, smiling affectionately as you turn off the lightsource and place it onto the nightstand. Wide-eyed, Daryl stares at you, as if waiting for you to tell him to leave - that you hated what he had done - but you break him from that train of thought as you slip under the covers and welcome him to join you.

Relief washes over him and he happily climbs in, groaning at the feeling of your body next to his and he succumbs to the comfort of the mattress. Pushing yourself into his side, his arms automatically open for you and he swears he could cry when you brush your thumb against his cheekbone and lean up to him.

“Anything for you.”

He feels the words as you whisper them just inches away from his lips, and he relishes in them when you pull away from the quick peck and dig your face into your pillow, closing your eyes and just looking so at peace. You’re so close to him Daryl’s in awe and he can’t help but stare. Wanting to hold onto the feeling of his skin a little longer, your finger draws a little heart over where his beats in his chest and you speak again, voice so warm and sincere.

“I’m glad you’re home.”

Home. That’s what it is to him now, too.

“Glad ‘m home too.”

With a final kiss laid on your forehead, Daryl echoes your statement and pulls your body closer into his. A small smile tugs at his lips and his arm slings lazily at your waist before he, too, closes his eyes, allowing himself to fall into the lull of sleep.

It was good to be back.

Back to a home he had made with you.

──── ⋙

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littlefreya · 3 years

Text

Vanilla Milkshake

Summer: Henry and a long time friend hangout at their usual spot when things turn chaotic because of an innocent misunderstanding...

Prompted by:

Oooh Freyaaaa I just *need* some scene featuring Henry and ofc drinking milkshake.

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Unamed OFC (no description of ethnicity or body type).

Word count: 1.7K

Warnings: RPF, major fluff, friends to lovers, sexual innuendo, mild seduction, sex talk, an unwanted boner, Henry being a boomer, Henry having a meltdown.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, ideas or parts it and claiming it as your own.*

A/N: So, first thing first, thanks @agniavateira for quickly beta’ing my work! And of course thanks @the-soot-sprite for bouncing ideas with me and being an emotional support. Decided to go with friends for lovers because I live for that stuff. Also, I am aware that “Milkshake” can be interpreted in several ways but for the sake of the story I went with that particular reference. Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics

Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed. 🖤

Title: Vanilla Milkshake

“I swear, this diner looks like Barbie had an orgasm all over the place.” A whimsical grin sliced between Henry’s marble cheeks. Eyeing the pastel-esque surroundings, he huffed scornfully and adjusted the cap over his nest of unruly curls.

“Remind me again why we always meet here, young lady?”

Staring at the beastly man who barely managed to squeeze into the plastic-pink faux leather booth, she couldn’t help but chuckle. Henry carried himself with something that was both eloquent yet unmistakably feral, reminding her of a burly forest creature. Sturdy tree trunks stood for limbs, torso, and shoulders—the widths of icy mountains and a blanket of thick fur coated the entirety of his body, deeming him a dangerous bear.

No wonder he preferred himself clean-shaven. The sharpened edge of a razor kept him a cut away from becoming ‘Henry the Barbarian’.

Seeing him surrounded by pastel and sparkly fairy dust brought far more joy than she could ever imagine. The utter look of contempt gleamed on the surface of his shifty eyes.

Oh, by God, how much he hated glitter!

“And what would you know about Barbie’s orgasms?” she teased with a crooked eyebrow and a comical suspicious glare.

Readjusting his cap over the messy mane of chocolate curls, Henry offered a terrible wink and shrugged, “a gentleman never tells.”

Her fingers rapped on her thigh while she contemplated whether to allow this naughty joke slide, but then the urge to provoke him was far too great. After briefly chewing on the inside of her cheek, she broke into a wicked grin.

“Is that… like a role play you have with the missus? She’s Barbie, and you’re G.I.Joe? Because I kinda don’t want to hear about it, but then I kinda do.”

Henry’s smile gradually faded along with the playful glee in his eyes, his melancholic gaze dropping to the sparkly table. He slumped into a heavy sigh, “If by missus, you mean ‘Miss Hand’, then no… not really.”

Dumbfounded, she frowned at Henry with confusion when then it struck her; a sense of incredible embarrassment drained the blood from her head to her gut.

“Oh…”

“Yep.” Henry blurted and grabbed the menu, pretending to be incredibly interested in the kids’ meal options.

Just in time to rescue them from a prolonged awkward silence, the waitress arrived with their order, serving Henry a hot cup of double espresso while she received a tall glass of a luscious vanilla milkshake.

“Enjoy your drinks, guys!” the waitress smiled sweetly and kept her eyes glued to Henry as she walked away. But the gloss of the waitress’ flirtatious excitement was lost on him; drenched with greed, Henry’s blue sapphires were fixated on the generous scoops of ice cream and the dark chocolate swirls that decorated his companion’s dessert.

“Henry, my eyes are up here!” she provoked and grabbed the straw between two fingers while throwing an amused glance at his simple cup of coffee. Henry followed her gaze and scoffed before raising the cup to his mouth and blowing to cool his drink.

The way his lips pursed together and his finger stroked the ceramic surface did not escape her observation. A sudden tingle swam down the length of her spine once it resonated in her mind that kind, charming, and beastly Henry was now single. Here they were, long time buddies, but now sitting together felt less comfortable than before. Her limbs felt like pins and needles while staring directly at his eyes was as risky as staring at the sun.

“Cheers,” Henry mumbled and took a sip from his cup.

Almost jolting in her seat, she stiffened and then grabbed her straw.

“Cheers.”

Giggles came from the other side of the diner. Among the retro gumball machines and rounded plastic bar stools, the waitress and a colleague leaned against the counter and stared at Henry, who turned his head for a brief moment and tipped his head.

Their giggles turned even louder.

She frowned.

“So, have you been single for a while?” she heard herself asking with a rather urgent tone. Right away, a look of contrition crept on her face as she regretted her verbal onslaught and lack of sensitivity.

Henry directed his gaze back to her and watched as she slowly sipped from the milkshake and then suckled the cream off her mouth.

Absentmindedly, he licked his lips. “Since May. How about you, weren’t you with…?”

“No, ended, dodged a bullet.” she spat and pumped the straw up and down the thick beverage. “My milkshake brings all the boys… except it doesn't.” she sighed.

Henry frowned and shook his head with confusion. “What? You never told me you make your own milkshake. How come I never had some?”

Her face abruptly froze, her eyes rounded with surprise before she snorted so loudly the waitresses stopped their whispering.

“Umm… Hen?” she called out, trying to hold herself from bursting into chuckles as her friend accidentally asked for a very sexual favour, “you honestly don’t know what ‘milkshake’ is slang for...?”

“Uh…”

“Omg, you’re such a boomer.”

“No, I was born in ‘83! I’m a millennial. But please, indulge me.” he begged and crossed his arms together.

Clearing her throat loudly, she did her best to fight the wicked grin that stretched on her already painful cheeks and wrapped her fist around the straw. “So you know... how… certain male bodily fluids are sometimes white and creamy...? And when you perform a certain motion it’s like you’re shaking it…?”

Henry blinked and became silent. An unbidden rush of blood pooled at his groin as he watched her thumb graze over the tip of the straw and her fist pumping it into the smooth liquid in a slow, gentle motion. Wickedness glazed her eyes, but he tried to dismiss it as nothing but their usual playful banter; yet his adam’s apple bobbed up and down while his shoulder tensed at the oddly arousing sight of her performing a sinful act on a milkshake.

There was an unmistakable stir in his cock and for once, he was thankful for narrow spaces as it hid his predicament.

Leaning forward, she opened her mouth and swirled her tongue around the straw. She went deliberately slow, making him watch while she playfully licked and suckled the tip until finally wrapping her lips around it and taking a generous sip.

Henry gawked utterly smitten, unaware that his jaw was nearly at the floor.

And to make things worse, she moaned—not too loud—but definitely enough to make his shaft harden more.

She wasn’t sure what stirred this whimsical boost of confidence, only that seeing the large, handsome man pale at her provocations made her feel like the most powerful woman on earth. She also gathered she’d regret it forever and a day once they’ll part ways, but it was too late for that now.

Gingerly she pulled back, though not before allowing a single drop of cream to trickle down the corner of her lips.

“Oops,” she smirked casually, wiping the cream with her fingertip and sucking it clean.

“Please stop…”

It was then when she noticed that Henry’s playful mien was all but gone. Far from amused, he glowered with a clenched jaw. “If you’re going to keep doing that, I’ll have to leave,” he stated matter-of-factly.

A rush of panic made her freeze in her spot, the same needles that pricked her skin were now setting jolts of electric bursts. “I’m so sorry, I crossed the line,” she said and covered her mouth with shame, “did I offend you? Do you want me to leave?”

“What? No, no, not at all.” Henry’s voice softened right away, and he reached a hand in the air, as if trying to stop her from leaving. The last thing he wanted now is for her to think he is angry with her. If anything, he wished they could spend more time together, not because of his obvious arousal, but because for the first time in a long while, he was having fun.

Still, she looked at him so utterly distraught.

“Then…?”

Henry scanned the diner as if trying to make sure no one was staring or taking any photo and then shifted in his seat uncomfortably. His eyes altered between his spread thighs and her several times, trying to signal toward his… trouble.

“Oh...” she gaped.

An odd sense of pride began to permeate her chest, battling over the burning embarrassment that flamed up her neck and cheeks. At this point, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to feel, only that it was definitely the most awkward hangout they had to date.

Problem was, she never knew when to shut up.

“Is little Henry hungry?”

Hearing those words, his brows dropped to an irritated sulk. “There is nothing little about it.”

“Ha! Prove it!”

It was as if the entire diner and perhaps the world fell into silence. Had the clatter of the dishes being washed in the back kitchen not rung their ears, she would have thought she grew suddenly deaf.

“I didn’t mean it… sorry, I’ll stop,” she mumbled slowly and pressed her fingers to her mouth while shaking her head at her stupid behaviour. That was it, this was to be the last afternoon she would ever hang out with Henry and right now, she couldn’t even bring herself to look at him.

Henry chewed onto the inside of his cheeks, trying to stop the words that came faster than his thoughts.

“You didn’t?... Because I’ll definitely be up for proving...”

She blinked at his words and tilted her head, hoping that he won’t notice the wild tremors that shook her limbs, “What was that?”

“I... yes? No?...I… fuck!”

Henry lowered his head and slapped his palms across his face, rubbing back and forth with an utter meltdown while mumbling, “Forgive me,” a couple of times. He couldn’t care less of what the waitresses or whoever was watching would think of him; all he cared about was to make her feel comfortable around him again and maybe… even make her like him?

“Henry?”

Soft and warm her voice called to him, slowly pulling him from his anguish like a sailor being rescued from a sunken ship. His blue sapphires shone, an ocean of confusion and anxiety still pooling within while he peered back at her face that was now smiling at him a mixture of comfort and exhilaration.

“Would you like some of my milkshake?”

#henry cavill #henry cavill rpf #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill fanfiction

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todoscript · 3 years

Text

sweetest delight

SYNOPSIS: While Shouto’s out hunting down villains on Valentine’s Day, you try your hand at making some sweets to celebrate the occasion, and in doing so, find your efforts rewarded in more ways than one.

pairing: pro hero!todoroki shouto x fem!reader

genre: smut. fluff. pro hero au.

word count: 7.3k+

warnings: 18+. characters are aged up. dominant!shouto. apron kink. praising. oral (both receiving). face-sitting. 69. cum-eating.

author’s note: god, this is long overdue, but i finally got this thing out after all this time. and of course, it ended up getting out of hand again

“Fuck, fuck, fuck–”

A range of curses spewed from your mouth as the unpleasant smell of your burnt confections permeated the space of your kitchen, threatening to notify the fire alarm overhead of your latest baking mishap. Luckily, you entered the kitchen just in time to dissipate the smoke before it can do so, fanning your towel while navigating to the oven to find your crisp, blackened sweets already ruined inside. The corners of your lips slipped into a scowl at another failed batch of mini chocolate cupcakes at your hand. You slid on a pair of oven mitts to transfer the set off the rack and onto the kitchen counter.

A flicker of optimism in your head presented the thought that they didn’t seem that bad at first glance, going so far as to believe they might’ve tasted relatively fine and that the burnt parts simply added a bitter flavor that would balance the overall sweetness of the decadent chocolate cupcakes. But upon closer inspection, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Flipping the miniature cakes out of the molds, you discovered the sweets were encased in a dreary black outer shell, a sight which made you grimace, wondering how you screwed up so badly to have concocted such a dismal image. You definitely had no right feeding these to Shouto, let alone offer them to him as a Valentine’s Day gift.

As everyone knew, the fourteenth day of February marked Valentine’s Day, the day where couples expressed their love to one another by giving gifts, spending quality time through dates, and displaying many other forms of affection. This year, however, Shouto was called in at his agency to investigate a case of villains whose plan was to wreak havoc on this special occasion.

Now, any person would find it normal to be peeved over these circumstances—having their lover’s free time eaten up by work when they could be celebrating together with a nicely lit dinner or a casual, romantic night at home, and perhaps cap off a wonderful evening with a smooth transition into the bedroom. Much better than spending a day at home alone, pitifully watching couples intertwine their hands together in envy as they walked along the sidewalk beneath your apartment complex, right?

Well, you, on the other hand, were a different case. Rather than sulk around as you waited for Shouto to arrive home later, you decided this would be the perfect chance to whisk up some sweets to surprise him. After all, what’s Valentine’s Day without some chocolate delights on the side, made with vanilla, sugar, cocoa butter, and lots of love and effort. A perfect way to welcome Shouto home from his mission while honoring the festivities, you’d say.

Besides, you understood the situation well enough to recognize that the citizens’ well-being came first before any date of yours. Your boyfriend was a hero, after all, and a Pro at that. It’s not as if you and Shouto hadn’t celebrated Valentine’s Day together before. So long as he came home—intact—prior to the clock ticking to midnight, one day didn’t bother you.

Though… after witnessing the aftermath of several failed attempts at baking thus far, you started to wonder if it would’ve done you better not to get so involved, only to waste resources and pervade your kitchen with an acrid smell.

Still, despite the trials and tribulations, you were determined to come out on top. You tapped your index finger repeatedly against the surface of the marbled counter. “Did I mix up the baking times? Maybe I undermined the portion sizes so the cupcakes started cooking faster?” you speculated out loud, wondering how to troubleshoot the minor errors to come out successful in your next attempt.

After some thought, you decided not to dawdle on your overthinking for too long and shrugged off the idea of redoing another batch of cupcakes. “It’s fine, I’ll just move onto the chocolates then. They’re the star of Valentine’s Day so better to focus on those,” you told yourself. A grin found its way on your face as you rolled the sleeves of your blouse up your forearms. “Alright, let’s get to it then!”

You retrieved a recipe sheet from across the counter, scanning through the contents while overlooking the ingredients lying in front of you. Compared to baking cupcakes, chocolates should be easier to tackle since you weren’t entirely making them from scratch. All you had to do is temper the chocolate melts in a bowl over a heat source, pour them into silicone molds, and refrigerate until hardened and shaped to the perfect, bite-sized delight. Seemed simple enough.

Okay, maybe it wasn’t quite as simple as you thought.

Or rather, you chose to make the whole process more complicated than it needed to be, not realizing the ambitious turn your take on these chocolates was moving toward until you drove yourself into another mess.

Your first trial of bonbons was sprawled out over parchment paper, waiting for your verdict. Eyes roaming the array of sweets tentatively, you absorbed the mixture of pink and white hues with an unsure look on your face. Somehow during the process, you opted to forgo the customary milk chocolates for white and strawberry, which was the closest you could get to matching Shouto’s signature hair colors.

You’d thought it’d be cute for the treats to have a slight resemblance to him as a simple yet sweet reminder that he was on your mind throughout your progress. But staring down at the final product, you wished you guessed ahead of time that the vision you sparked in your head was not going to be as bright and pretty in comparison to what came out.

You frowned at the batch with narrowed brows before begrudgingly scooping a piece and tossing it into your mouth. The sweetness of the strawberry and white chocolates coexisted together to form a smooth texture that left behind a creamy, floral undertone on your tongue. What was incredibly lacking, however, laid in the looks department. The visuals left… more to be desired, to say the least.

With the idea of wanting to use two different flavors of chocolate, you also played on the notion of incorporating a theme. That theme being half-and-half. And half-and-half being splitting the colors on the chocolates right down the middle.

Though not a complicated plan for an adept baker, it was the exact opposite for a newbie like you who had came up with the idea on the spot. With your chocolates appearing in odd shapes and sizes, not one seemed to resemble another, which was the result of both your lack of patience and miscalculations. You had to allow one of the flavors to harden in the mold before adding the other to not prematurely mix the colors, but judging by the swirls of pink and white surrounding the chocolates, that didn’t seem to go so well. Add on to the fact you had some trouble inverting them out of the silicon molds—the edges of the chocolates ending up smooshed or torn off entirely—and you were left with another failed attempt at a Valentine’s present.

“Guess making sweets isn’t really my thing, huh?” You sighed, body slumping forward against the kitchen counter in defeat. Your eyes wandered from your sad chocolates to the hefty amount of dirty dishes piled in the sink. All this, and you weren’t able to make anything worth giving to Shouto. What exactly were you going to tell him when he came home, bearing witness to this entire mess? No, Shouto was probably under enough stress and fatigue as it was after working all day. Plus, his anticipation for a gift would only be amplified if he saw the number of baking supplies you’ve wasted today. At this point, you had to turn in the towel.

“Oh well… I better clean everything up before Sho comes home and start on din–”

Your words were interrupted by the sharp sound of the front door opening.

“I’m home!” an all too familiar voice announced, one that you were more than aware belonged to a particular fire and ice hero.

Surprised, you glanced over at the clock to check the time, which read a bold 6:00 PM—sooner than you expected your boyfriend to arrive home from his duties that day. So soon, in fact, that you weren’t able to even begin erasing any of the evidence littered around the kitchen.

“Y/n?” you heard him call. Freezing in place, you picked up Shouto breathing in a quick whiff. “What’s that smell?” he asked but didn’t wait for a response, traveling through the enormous apartment to find that answer for himself. Hearing his feet shuffling across the hardwood floor, you moved quickly.

“The kitchen smells sweet but also... bitter.”

Sweet and bitter..? you repeated but soon realized what he meant—those damn burnt chocolate cupcakes you left out. While in your rush with making the chocolates, you had forgotten to dispose of them beforehand. Though the bitter smell was not as prominent as when the cupcakes first came out of the oven, it still didn’t evade Shouto’s keen senses.

After shoving the burnt mini cupcakes in a trash bin, you scrambled to the entrance to the kitchen, thankfully cutting Shouto’s path off just in time as you met him there. “Oh hey, Sho, why didn't expect you to come home so early!” you greeted, a cheerful lilt in your tone as you leaned an arm on the side of the doorway, hoping to come off ordinarily chill to avoid any questioning looks. It seemed you achieved that much at least by how Shouto smiled warmly at your appearance.

“You should’ve shot me a quick text or something.”

“Sorry, we managed to track down the group of villains right away and finished the mission smoothly without any casualties,” he explained. “I guess I was in such a hurry to come home and celebrate Valentine’s Day with you that I must’ve forgotten.” The soft look on Shouto’s handsome features had you in a daze for a second; you nearly missed him descending his head to your level so his lips could find yours. Eventually, you broke from your stupor and swiftly turned your head so he planted a peck on your cheek instead.

You were never one to purposely avoid a kiss on the lips like that from him—far from it actually—but you didn’t want him to find any residual sweetness on your lips from the confections you taste-tested that day and have him bring up if you made anything for him. One thing you surely couldn’t avoid, however, was his puzzled face at your uncharacteristic actions. Still, Shouto wasn’t one to overthink the details. Instead, he decided to look at the bigger picture, such as the dirty yet cute, pink and brown frilly apron tied around your body.

“Your apron’s a mess,” he chuckled lightly. The comment caught you off-guard, eyes slowly traveling down to the flour and chocolate stains on your Valentine’s-themed apron. “Have you been cooking?” he asked. You fumbled with your answer.

“O-Oh yeah..! In fact, I’m… still cooking, actually!” you quickly added, making up for your lack of words. “C’mon, it’s probably been a long day for you. You should go freshen up in the shower while I get everything done and cleaned!” You tried shoo-ing Shouto from the kitchen’s vicinity, but he didn’t budge.

“I can help out if you like. I wouldn’t want you to fix everything up by yourself, especially since we’re supposed to spend the rest of Valentine’s Day together,” he said, and as much as you liked to take him up on his kind and thoughtful offer, you had to object.

Firmly shaking your head, you continued your attempts at pushing Shouto to retreat to the shower and scrub off the troubles of his day. “No, you’ve probably done enough work today as it is! Just let me handle the rest, ‘kay?” you insisted, straining a smile. However, your hurried shoving felt almost too persistent than what Shouto found normal.

“Well, what are you making then–” As he tilted his head up to sneak a peek, you followed his movements, elevating yourself onto your tiptoes to block his vision in time.

“S-Soba noodles..! Cold! Just how you like them,” you answered after partially interrupting him. Quirking a brow at your fidgety gestures, Shouto stared at the smile etched on your lips which screamed of suspicion. Now he was sure something was up.

“Love,” he said, his voice a tone lower than usual that made goosebumps appear on your skin, staring at his turquoise and gray eyes warily, “are you hiding something from me?”

“What? Psh, no,” you feigned innocence, shrugging, “Why would you think that?”

Shouto gave you a look, silently telling you that you should more than know the reason why, but you chose to remain ignorant. No point in questioning it any further then. He would have to pry the answer out himself.

Aware that you had no intention of letting him pass voluntarily, Shouto began putting his hero training to use. He side-stepped in a single motion, quickly pivoting on the balls of his feet to slip through your defenses. You didn’t have time to ask yourself what happened before you turned around to watch his reaction to what you left for him on the kitchen counter.

Upon entering the kitchen, Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes were immediately drawn to the marbled white-and-pink sweets sprawled across the parchment paper. His interest piqued, he walked straight to the chocolates with you trailing behind. You could feel the heat in your cheeks slowly rise from the embarrassment at seeing Shouto inspect your sorry excuse of chocolates.

“Hm, no soba noodles, but I may have found something even better,” he said, and you wondered if you heard correctly or that maybe he saw something you didn’t. You rapidly blinked about four times, letting your vision adjust, and yet your chocolates remained.

“You’re kidding… right?”

Shouto lifted a brow at your hesitance. “No, why would I be kidding?” he replied thoughtfully. He took one of the chocolates off the parchment paper, raising it in the air between his thumb and index finger. “You made these for me, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yeah, they were supposed to be a Valentine’s Day gift, but…”

“But..?” A frown settled on his lips, watching you nervously twiddle your thumbs while you held your hands against your apron. “Y/n, you can tell me.” Not liking how you weren’t meeting his eyes, his finger drew your chin up so he could get a better glimpse of your face.

“But they don’t look the part. They’re hideous,” you quietly admitted, your words mellowing into a whisper the more they departed your lips. The way he treated your creations as if they belonged on a pedestal didn’t sit right in your eyes. “So I... didn’t want you to see them, or any of this actually. I thought if you saw what I was doing, you’d get your hopes up for something special, only to be disappointed.” You tried avoiding his gaze again, but Shouto wouldn’t allow it, following your eyes as his hand pried yours apart to take one in his own.

His focus shifted from the pink and white chocolate held in front of him to the uncertainty clouding your expression. “I’m not sure what you mean. They look fine to me.”

“Sho, you don’t have to lie to me just so you don’t end up hurting my feelings. Anyone can see how uneven they look,” you said, pointing at the rest of the batch still sitting on the counter behind him. There was a low chuckle coming from the male’s lips, one that you guessed was out of amusement, but you were too caught in your troubled feelings to be sure.

“Well, I have to admit, they don’t exactly resemble the perfect, visual representation of the chocolates you’d find at the store or anything,” he acknowledged with you mumbling an ‘I told you so’ in response before he continued, “but that’s the reason why I like them. That means you made them for me and there isn’t any chocolate like it. They’re one of a kind.”

His genuine words took you aback, eyes glimmering and cheeks flushed. You were too wrapped up in your need for perfection that you didn’t realize you could consider your efforts that way.

“Besides,” he threw the little bonbon in his mouth, “they taste great,” he said as the strawberry and white cream melted on his tongue with its rich sweetness.

Despite his praise, you thought he had only said that because you knew for a fact that the chocolates did at least pass in the taste department. “But what if they had tasted bad too? What would you have said then?” You were bold enough to question, though half-worried about his answer in the back of your head—worried that he would have to take back those sweet words of his.

“I still would have eaten them, regardless. I’d never waste anything you’ve made for me, you should know that. To me, these chocolates are the sweetest delight not because they’re the best looking or tasting, but because they came from you,” he answered earnestly, bending down to tuck a hair away from your stunned yet grateful appearance which looked as if you were nearly about to sigh out loud in relief. You brought your body into his chest, tucking your head beneath his chin, and he wrapped his arms around you, lips pressed against your hair.

Shouto didn’t grant you much time to bask in your solace however, before beckoning you over to the kitchen counter. He wasn’t done teasing you just yet.

“Normally couples give each other milk chocolates on Valentine’s day. Any reason you decided on white and strawberry then?” Shouto noted, a grin on his lips as you seemed reluctant to reveal your reasoning—lips pursed and fingers playing with the hem of your apron.

“Well, they’re supposed to be your…” You finished by motioning at the crown of your head before pointing to his red and white locks.

Heh... Cute. The grin that was persistent on his features widened, and your response earned you a kiss on the cheek. “Thinking about me, huh?” he teased. You were more than aware of your intentions throughout your chocolate-making process, but it didn’t make the whole situation any less embarrassing when your motives came to light out of Shouto’s own mouth.

You pouted profusely, turning your face in the other direction as you nudged his arm. “Aren’t you going to eat the rest then?” you asked despite your demure demeanor. You couldn’t see it, but you were positive he was aiming that amused expression in your direction, leaning his head on his palm while his elbow was leveled on the counter.

“You made a lot of chocolates today, love. You don’t expect me to finish them all by myself, do you?” You heard the rustle of the parchment liner unsticking to something behind you. Then a finger poked your cheek, and out of curiosity, you followed where the disturbance came from, only to have a swirl of pink and white pushed past your lips.

“Mm..” you hummed surprisingly in delight at the harmonious strawberry and cream flavors coating your tastebuds.

“Tastes good, doesn’t it?” he asked.

“Yeah, I got to taste them before you arrived home.” You rubbed the back of your head. “And um, I didn’t exactly make these from scratch...” You went about divulging your methods to him, explaining your usage of chocolate melts, which all in all saved you a lot of time, considering your earlier mishaps with the brownies—a misfortune you also confessed to as you side-eyed the trash bin.

The dual-haired male laughed with mirth at the disasters you tangled yourself into today. “Seemed like you had an eventful Valentine’s Day at home without me.”

He scanned over your outfit, consisting of a simple buttoned blouse and a pair of jeans. What caught his eye the most was the frilly, laced brown and pink apron tied around your body. You must have bought this specifically to get in the spirit of Valentine’s Day because this was the first he’s seen you in this. Normally you’d wear those plain cotton aprons while you were cooking. Not something so charming and—dare he say—refreshing.

As you were continuing the conversation—going on about how vanquishing criminal organizations was more productive than whatever you were concocting at home—your words faded into the background. Shouto found it hard to focus on what you were saying, while your animated gestures seemed to enhance the shape of the apron against your body, emphasizing your physique.

Recalling the story you just mentioned, he imagined what the scene of you frantically dashing around the kitchen would look like as you wore this cute thing. Was it weird of him to hold fantasies of arriving home, being greeted by your endearing self donning this garment, dolled in its intricacies with a smile gracing the lips he oh so wanted to kiss every day?

Shouto would think so. He’s never heard of any anecdotes of this kind of behavior before. Perhaps it was how dainty and frilly the material appeared against your figure that stemmed such a risqué thought from him. If that was the case, then this apron was no different than lingerie. Or more specifically, those delicate lace babydolls you’d wear for him on those special occasions, in which you displayed the zenith of lust and vulnerability that rendered him a man ensnared by his need to utterly ravage you–

Fuck. Letting those imaginations cross his mind was a dangerous move. He felt himself getting hard, body exercising the willpower not to pounce and concede to his fantasies. Then again, no one could really blame him for thinking of his girlfriend this way on Valentine’s Day. Especially when you looked so damn cute right now that he could just eat you up.

“Shouto?” Your voice diverted his attention from the growing problem in his pants, though only for a moment. When his focus returned to you, all those lascivious thoughts buried in the back of his head made their way to the forefront again. Damn, did he have it bad.

“Is something wrong? You were zoning out for a bit.”

He shook his head, dispelling your concern. However, it was going to take more than that to sweep away the lust consuming his mind. “It’s nothing. More importantly, why don’t we continue tasting these chocolates?” Pulling up a stool, he took a seat next to the kitchen counter.

Just as you were going to mention that you needed to start on dinner soon, Shouto suddenly drew your body in between his parted legs. Thrown slightly off-balance, you instinctively held onto his shoulders to keep yourself steady.

You couldn’t help but notice the hand traveling up your legs as it situated itself on the back of your thigh, but the detail was abandoned as soon as it was manifested. The proximity between you two was too much not to overlook now. Shouto peered up at you with what you made out to be smoldering intensity, and the sight reduced you to shying away from his eyes again.

Of course, Shouto didn’t take a liking to that. With you so close, he didn’t want anything hindering his front seat viewing of your candid reactions. “Baby, look here,” he called to you. You followed his command, turning back to face the grin reaching his lips. “There’s my pretty girl.”

You attempted to open your mouth to reply but found another ball of marbled chocolate placed where words should’ve been.

Soft lips wrapped around him, Shouto had to fight back the urge to groan, feeling your tongue graze the pad of his thumb as he fed you the candy. His other hand, formerly occupied with rubbing subtle circles on your clothed flesh, wandered to the satin ribbon of your apron fashioned behind you.

It wasn’t long until you discerned the game he was playing through the fiery looks and frisky touching.

Well, enter player two.

You brought a hand to his wrist, keeping him there as your tongue made work at licking away the residual chocolate melted on his finger. You moved from his thumb to his index finger, noting not to miss anything with every flick as you confidently returned the heady expression with batted eyelashes.

Shouto breathed in silently through his nose, gritting his teeth, your sultry actions having an innate effect on him, to which you smirked at. There was a slight tug on the ribbon wrapped behind you. It wasn’t firm enough to where the knot came undone, but enough that you noticed his fixation on the material. If he was making an effort to exert some self-control, it was futile at this point. No doubt, he was going to take you before Valentine’s Day was over.

“Hmm, you’re right, these chocolates are pretty tasty. But it’s probably because you’re the one feeding them to me that they taste just soooo good,” you mused, adding a sensual tonality to your voice as you concluded your words with one last kitten lick.

The man before you bit the inside of his cheek, your voice alone making blood rush south. You little minx. He was going to make doubly sure you understood just what you were doing to him.

Finally releasing his hand, you reached over beside you to grab a chocolate off the parchment paper. “For you~” You giggled as you led the confection to Shouto’s mouth. He readily accepted your gift, lips wrapping around the tips of your fingers as the mellow flavors soothed his taste buds. He made a point of re-enacting your little show, tongue languidly lapping your fingers while he maintained steady eye contact. You shuddered at the wet warmth abiding your skin, the suffocating sexual tension in the air causing you to press your thighs together. The action was not overlooked by Shouto, who smiled amidst cleaning your fingers with every brush of his tongue.

“What’s wrong, love? You were so bold and talkative earlier. Cat got your tongue or something?” he teased. A smirk ran across the curl of his lips as his licks turned to kisses he planted on the back of your hand.

After finishing his task of lapping up every essence of sweetness off your skin, he lifted himself from the stool. Doing so made him stand tall over you, and he easily cornered you to where your back met the edge of the counter. Your wrist captured in one of his hands, he wove an arm around you, pulling your body into him.

“You know, there’s something I want to eat right now other than chocolates,” he confessed, forehead pressed to yours and glinted heterochromatic eyes latent with an insatiable hunger. The baritone of his voice sent shivers through your body and a throb aching in your core.

You innocently tilted your head at him. “Oh, is that so? And what would that be?”

He chuckled darkly at your redundant question.

“Why you of course, my love.”

The moment the words reached your ears, he lunged forward to seize your lips. You quickly followed in the sensual movements of his soft lips against yours like it was a practiced routine, not resisting his tongue prying its way into your mouth and submitting to the dance that made pleasure course through your veins.

A single tap on your thigh was your cue to hop into Shouto’s waiting grasp and wrap your arms around his neck. You pulled your bodies closer to where the few layers of clothing you both possessed did nothing to hide your enthusiasm for each other. You could feel your nipples under your bra stiffen at your arousal, growing more sensitive as you pressed your chest to him. Meanwhile, his hard erection shamelessly poked the inside of your thigh to which his grip was poised on remaining firm, grinding your lower half against him.

You expected this was where he intended to have you—right then and there in the middle of the kitchen—but to your surprise, Shouto had other plans. He navigated you two to the dining table as you continued feverishly making out with your legs wrapped around his waist. Never breaking the hot mingle of your lips, he carefully placed you on the edge. His hands were free to roam the expanse of your body, palming at places that elicited airy moans from you as he inscribed the niceties of your bonny apron into his memory. Though he cursed the unnecessary layers that obscured your beautiful flesh from him.

Finding the clothes still on you equally unbearable in the heat of your movements, you were on the same wavelength as him. You sought out the satin ribbon tied behind your back that kept the apron on your form, but before your fingertips could even reach the material to tug the knot loose, Shouto seized your wrists and led your hands away. Your face was scrunched with bewilderment by how sudden his actions were.

Shouto didn’t think he could have a fetish over something as ordinary and domestic as a decorative garment tied around your waist, but this Valentine’s Day was proving him otherwise. He was not about to pass an opportunity to absolutely ruin you in this pretty thing.

“Keep it on,” he ordered, voice deep and commanding.

“H-Huh? What about my clothes?” you stuttered, confused at first. You wanted to ask what spurred him to give such a demand, but you were too caught in the moment to think of objecting to his request (not that you had much choice anyway).

“Let me.” That was all he said before his hands sought after the waistband of your jeans and the buttons of your top. He pulled and undid the apparel until you were left in only your panties and that lovely apron. Your bra was quickly disposed of to the pile next to his feet thanks to the clip being located at the front this time, and he was eternally grateful for the convenience. You didn’t even have to mention anything for his own clothes to float above yours on the floor, sitting back on the table to admire his toned physique, now free for you to ogle in just his briefs.

His hooded, icy eyes concentrated on every aspect of your appearance. He didn’t dare miss a single detail in front of him—from your bare, flushed skin glowing beneath the light fixture to your aroused nipples shaped through the thin fabric. You were a sight Shouto would gladly worship for the rest of his life.

“You’re a sight for sore eyes, my love, and I’m going to enjoy ravaging you until all you know is my name.”

His words alone were enough to send a tingle of anticipation to your cunt. You did not shrink at his assertiveness, instead embracing both yours and Shouto’s desires with open arms.

“You have me, Sho. I’m all yours.”

The man released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding before inhaling and diving in. Your lips reencountered each other, continuing from where you left off with his tongue chasing after you. You laced your fingers in his soft hair to press him deeper to you as Shouto navigated down your neck. He sucked and licked at your skin; every tug he felt on his scalp compelled him to lay marks as he inched closer and closer to your breasts.

“Ahh.. Sho…” you mewled, feeling his hands grope one of your mounds and tease your slit through your panties. With no intention of letting this apron off your body, Shouto pushed the fabric concealing your chest inward to reveal a perky nipple, seeming excited to be covered by his mouth. Well, who was he to deny such exuberance, especially when he himself was hungry to taste?

Lips enclosing the stiffened nub, Shouto sucked and prodded with fervor. As you squirmed and squealed beneath him, your fingers pulled harder at his strands which he hummed in content at. The tip of his tongue circled your areola, making the slick clinging to your panties damper at the stimulation. The hand occupied between your thighs stroked you against the fabric before pulling it to the side to touch you directly.

“Oh fuck!” you cursed at the contact as Shouto did not hesitate to start pumping a finger into your pussy.

“Damn, you’re so wet down here. Did my kisses and teasing do all this?”

You were too distracted by the precise movements of his fingers working through you to answer, words superseded by your wanton moans. “Keep making those pretty sounds, love. I want you to cry out as I’m ruining you.”

Your noises hit a crescendo when his fingers began curling inside you, stretching into places that lit stars behind your eyes. His thumb rubbed your clit to intensify the fire building in your abdomen. Your back arched on the table as you grabbed onto Shouto’s free hand for dear life, already feeling that flame ready to ignite.

“Sho– Wait, I’m gonna–”

“Don’t hesitate, sweetheart. Coat my fingers with your cum,” he told you, increasing the speed of his thumb against your bundle of nerves as he continually hit that euphoric soft spot.

At his words, your pussy clenched hard around him, practically sucking him in. You threw your head back against the table, releasing a loud cry of his name as your orgasm engulfed your whole body with electrifying pleasure. Chest heaving up and down, your breaths sounded ragged as your vision went white before slowly adjusting to the light.

Shouto slid his fingers out of you and brought them to his mouth, licking at the layer of gloss. He observed your fucked-out state from above and admired his handiwork—your lips swollen, eyes glassy, and sweaty skin adorned with his marks.

“You taste absolutely delicious, you know,” he said almost too sweetly, like he had immediately gotten drunk off drinking the remnants of your orgasm. And, of course, he had to let you know how delectable you were. Shouto provided you a sample by pressing his fingers to your lips. You obediently parted them, welcoming your essence on your tongue.

“Don’t you think so?”

You hummed and nodded in agreement. Shouto grinned, bending down to mix your flavor in each other’s mouths. He finally removed your ruined panties and slid them down your legs. But to no one’s surprise, the apron stayed on your person.

When you parted, Shouto gestured for you to get up from the table. In doing so, you had anticipated this would be the time to head straight to the bedroom, but the night continued to prove you wrong. Shouto was still famished.

“Stand up for a second, baby. I want to lay down as I have my meal.” You didn’t need to guess to know just what he wanted to satiate his appetite tonight.

Shouto laid himself flat across the table, the majority of his legs dangling off the edge. You, on the other hand, were apprehensive at his approach, cautiously wondering if your modest dining table could handle the rampant motions of two adult bodies on top of it at once. Should the legs give way and the table collapses, the gravity of your descent would put all your weight onto him. What if you hurt him as a result?

“Love, what’s the holdup?” your boyfriend called, breaking your train of thought, “Come, your throne awaits.” He patted his chest—a rather peculiar place to sit but your cunt pulsed at the image of you riding that gorgeous face of his.

“O-Okay, I’m just afraid of hurting you, is all,” you said, pulling at the hem of your apron for security.

He raised his upper body halfway to see the hesitance painted on your features. “Y/n, there’s no need to worry, I wouldn’t have thought of doing this if I couldn’t handle it,” he assured, his hand reaching out for you. “Trust me. I won’t let anything happen to us.”

You stared at the hand hovering in front of you and then at Shouto’s eyes glimmering with faith, and you knew you could trust his word. So you take his hand, climbing onto the table and over his body where you straddled his chest.

“Dining tables are meant to be eaten on, right? Well, I intend to devour you until your legs are shaking beside me, sweetheart,” he promised. He stroked up and down your thighs tauntingly. Your breaths hitched as he maneuvered you above his face, moving the flap of your apron so you could feel his cold breath against your lower lips.

“As much as I appreciate all those confections you made for me, they all pale in comparison to the sweetest delight here–” He uttered praises to your core while rubbing the soft flesh of your thighs. “This pretty, soft, and dripping pussy.”

Warmth spread across your cheeks at his lewd words and how close in proximity he was to your twitching center. The one thing you detested about this apron at this moment was the fact it blocked you from what Shouto was doing, the bottom half lying right above his face. To him, however, it made everything all the more entertaining.

Despite being the one trapped under you, it must have felt like you were more in the dark than he was. After all, he was the one asserting dominance in this situation, and with a layer of fabric hiding his face, you had no idea how or when he was going to eat you out. His deafening silence was not offering you one bit of reassurance either. If he truly intended to devour you atop this table, he should just do it already.

“...Sho? Are you—Ah!” Upon questioning him, your words were choked by your surprised squeal, feeling him delicately kiss your folds with chilly lips attached to your warm pussy. You opened your mouth to speak again, yet you struggled to search for words as Shouto’s tongue flattened against you, licking a long strip before latching onto your sensitive pearl. The more he relentlessly sucked and teased, the more you sang out with waves of pleasure quivering through your body.

Hearing your beautiful noises, he chuckled, tongue vibrating on your clit. Every sound you produced made his cock stutter, still leaking and begging for attention beneath his briefs.

Not liking how inactive you were—simply sitting on his face and waiting for yourself to come undone on his tongue—you reached behind yourself to trail your hand down his abdomen. His body tensed, abs immediately flexing at your soft touch. You noticed his ministrations falter in their rhythm.

“B-Baby, what are you doing?” he questioned, pulling himself off of you to concentrate on your hand running along the waistband of his briefs. His fingers dug into your flesh as you found his length, tentatively giving it a pump that gave birth to a strained noise below the flap of your apron.

“You’ve been doing all the work so far, Sho. I just want you to enjoy yourself,” you said. His eyebrows were scrunched, hissing through his teeth at your thumb grazing his slit, mixing his precum around the tip.

“I am enjoying myself—this is all I could ever ask for,” he replied honestly. He lifted the frilly material off his face so you could discover your slick running down his lips and neck, the blush spread across his fair cheeks an more than sufficient indication that he derived nothing but delight from being in this position. He looked like an absolute mess, yet the debauched sight made both your heart and pussy flutter.

“But if you want to join in, I won’t stop you.”

At that, Shouto detached himself from your sweetness for just a second to quickly reposition you above him. You were adjusted to where you were practically on all fours on the table now, facing the prominent bulge raised on his briefs while your fluttering cunt was somehow even more obscenely split in front of him. You were thankful the piece of furniture stayed intact throughout the motions, pleasantly astounded by its strength. However, you couldn’t pause to be impressed by this detail for long. Not when Shouto’s aching erection pleaded for you to continue touching it.

Your hand returned to its original place—wrapped around his heavy length that wept with precum coating the surface of its mushroom top. As you stroked it up and down in a consistent rhythm, you altered your grip to tighten more around him.

“Ooh yeah, that’s it, baby. Just like that… Ahhhh, fuckkkk—” You were rewarded by his praises and groans at the splendid pressure surrounding his dick. It encouraged you to keep up your pace and add another hand to the fray to increase the tension.

“You’re doing so well, making me feel so fucking good, love. Can you add your mouth for me now?” he requested, and you happily complied. Your tongue flattened against his cock, noting every vein and twitch running across your wet muscle that reduced Shouto to muttering obscenities behind you. Reaching the top, you swirled your tongue along the tip before taking the entire head into your warm cavern. Shouto’s thighs flexed, body almost trembling at how heavenly you made him feel. He couldn’t be outdone.

You let out a whine on his cock, feeling his mouth working against you again. This time you felt the effects stronger than before as Shouto spread your pussy lips to grant him better access to tongue fuck you. He stimulated every sensitive area with practiced ease, making sure to flick your clit with extra vigor to achieve the best results. You delivered in your reactions—legs shaking and knees slowly and deliberately being reduced to jelly.

Even ensnared in ecstasy, you did your best to adapt to his intensity, engulfing him more into your mouth. Your hands worked together to maximize the most pleasure you could give him, fondling his balls and gripping the base of his cock.

The lewdest of sounds filled the room in an unrelenting symphony. From your muffled whimpers to your pussy squelching in the presence of Shouto’s mouth purring against you, there was no shortage of bliss evident in the atmosphere. Hearing yourselves in the throes of rapture as you devoured each other’s whole beings like starved animals, you two were simultaneously climbing toward your highs.

“Shit, keep doing just that baby, and I’m going to paint that pretty mouth of yours white,” he warned half-heartedly. You purred, the enthusiasm laced your tone informing Shouto you wanted him to do just that. He was pleased by your response.

“You want it, don’t you, you slutty girl? Well, I expect you to drown me in your honey while I cover your throat with my cum then.” Those were the last words he spared you before proceeding to manifest them into reality. His hands dug themselves in the flesh below your ass cheeks, exposing your pussy to his appendage that swiped away at your clit until shockwaves made you tremble above him.

You were the first to come undone, juices running down your thighs and boyfriend’s chin. Your cries were muffled amidst Shouto’s dick caught down your throat, tightening around his length, which surged with spurts of white all over your mouth. You swallowed every single drop of his seed, wiping at the excess on your lips as you released the hero’s cock with a loud pop.

After taking a moment to catch your breaths, you carefully moved off of each other. Shouto steadied you on his lap, letting you straddle him as he sat on the edge of the table. He intertwined your fingers through his and brought them to his lips to place a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“I love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too, Shouto. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

#bnha smut #bnha x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha smut #bnha fic #bnha imagine #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki imagine #mha x reader

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seiyasabi · 3 years

Text

Fixation

(This is a Yandere Yelena x Fem Reader story ;)) This takes place in a Modern AU outside of the anime, and I won’t justify my reasoning lmao

TW: Coercion, !Drugging!, Manipulation, !Noncon!, !Dubcon!, Daddy kink (ehehe), spanking, she’s a straight up Dom w her tall ass, kinda a meanie, degradation!, handcuffs!, use of sex toys!, Overstim!, size kink!, dumbification?, unwanted filming!, etc..

Proceed with caution! Sorry if this is too self indulgent lmao, when women (lesbians) talk to me, I become the biggest idiot to ever exist :)) )

Today wasn’t the best day to wear a skirt.

Begrudgingly smoothing down the lilac fabric of your skirt, you huff indignantly. All you wanted to do was look cute for your crush, Marco, but it seems that that was too much to ask for.

Your white sweater, at least, keeps you somewhat warm from the harsh wind. It’s tucked into the waistband of your high waisted skirt, and your thigh high socks push the fat of your cute thighs out slightly. The sound of your white sneakers against the pavement is drowned out by your classmates’ loud voices, and you’re seemingly unaware of a certain black-eyed glare.

Seeing your classroom come into view, you hurry inside, sliding into your lab assigned seat. Eyeing the dark haired male of your dreams, you can’t help but sigh pathetically at the fact that he hasn’t noticed you. Up until recently, the two of you were great friends-always hanging out and texting one another. But, the moment the both of you picked up this class, everything changed.

Hearing the seat next to you slide open, you glance up at your seatmate. Smiling up at the tall woman, you greet her kindly, “Hi, Lena! How’re you today?”

The Russian exchange student smirks down at you, as she plops onto the seat, “Good, now that you’re here.”

Laughing at her gruff words, you wave her off, “You always say that,” Zipping open your backpack, you pull out your class notes, “What’re you going to do this weekend?”

Her smirk widens, dark eyes gleaming, “Why? Asking me on a date?” You laugh once more, completely oblivious to her hopeful tone.

“You’re so funny, Lena,” Pulling out your pack of multicoloured pens, you start to set up for your class, “I just heard you speaking with Annie about ‘something big’ the other day, so I became curious.”

Not one to acknowledge boundaries, the blonde woman starts to play with your (hair/sweater), “I’m throwing a party, one you should come to,” Her tone leaves no room to negotiate, but you don’t really notice. Nodding, you smile up at her.

“Sounds fun! When is it and who’s going?” Her hand trails down to your thigh, fiddling with your sock. Brushing off your mild alarm at her ministrations, you justify her actions through your cultural differences.

“Tonight at eight. Annie and her friends should be there, same with Marco and a few others,” She name dropped the kind man on purpose, knowing your misguided infatuation with him. If only you knew how much of a pussy he is. All she did was threaten him once, and suddenly he stayed clear of you. It made her life easier, sure, but it annoyed her that he dropped you like a gutted fish. You’re too good for that.

Pulling out your phone, you pull up your calendar, showcasing that you have no plans this evening, “Okay, I can go!”

Her smirk grows wider than before, “Great,” Yelena’s accent seemingly grows thicker, her r rolling more harshly than before.

With that, class begins without a hitch; Yelena’s hand still glued to your perfect thigh.

Stepping out of your car, you readjust your new outfit. Keeping the thigh highs from earlier, you changed your lilac skirt for a black, body con one, along with a cropped, black long sleeve shirt that accentuates your cleavage.

Slamming your car door shut, you lock it with your key, before heading towards Yelena’s luxurious flat. You can hear low music and voices from her open top floor balcony, multiple shadows moving inside her home.

With a fast beating heart, you can’t help but hope that Marco will speak with you tonight. With that hope deep in your chest, you step inside the fancy building’s lobby. Approaching the front desk, you go to show them your ID, but are met with brightly smiling faces.

“Go on up to the tenth floor, (Your Name)! Yelena already told us that you’re coming!” Surprise overcomes your form. Why do they know you by appearance alone? You’ve never even been here before.

“Oh, okay! Thank you,” Deciding to ignore the weird situation at hand, you head towards the lift. Pressing the button, you wait a few moments, before stepping into the open lift doors. The sleek metal walls reflect your appearance back at you, whilst you press the pristine ‘10’ button. With a small beep, the lift begins to move, practically flying at top speed to the top floor.

Once at the tenth floor, the doors fly open, showing what looks to be a living room. You can’t help but gawk at the large flat displayed before you. Your classmate must be quite wealthy to afford a place like this.

You awkwardly make your way inside, and are immediately greeted by the party’s host, “Hey, (Your Name), welcome!” You’re side hugged by a buff arm, practically slammed into Yelena’s torso.

“Hey, thanks for having me!” You pat her back in an attempt to have her let you go, but instead, it seems to spur her on. She drags you towards a large L-shaped couch, which is filled by Annie, Reiner, and Bertholdt. A handful of others sit at her dining room table and kitchen counter, the open concept allowing everyone to see and speak to each other comfortably.

Reiner glances up from the story he’s telling Historia and Ymir, a grin painting his handsome features, “Whoa, that’s a new look for you, (Your Name)!”

Multiple eyes are suddenly glued to your now self conscious form, an uneasy smile on your face, “Hello, everyone.”

“Don’t get me wrong, you look great! It’s just really different from your normal, cute clothes,” People nod and agree with the large man, causing you to break out in a nervous sweat.

“Well, I hope I don’t look too bad,” You joke halfheartedly, “I just wanted to try something new.”

Yelena takes your appearance in, practically salivating. Whilst she does enjoy your usual clothing, this look fits you quite well.

“You look very nice,” Bertholdt reassures soothingly, patting the spot by him, “You can sit next to me, if you’d like.”

The short haired woman glued to your side reacts immediately, “No, the girl needs a drink,” Annie shoots her a knowing look, which she nods to in response. You’re practically ragdolled to the kitchen bar, as the conversation starts up once more. Once at the marble countertop, the large woman releases you in favour of pouring you a cup of spiked punch, “This is very good. Made it myself.”

You give her a bright smile, accepting the red solo cup, “Cool! I’m sure it’s delicious!” Bringing the cup to your (lipstick/chapstick/lipgloss) coated lips, you take a small sip. A burst of fruity goodness explodes on your tastebuds, making your eyes widen in surprise. You can’t taste a drop of alcohol in it, “Wow! This is really good!”

A proud grin overtakes her lips, as she nods her thanks, “Of course it is. I knew you were coming, after all,” You laugh in response, and take another sip of the red liquid.

“I see! Well, you have a very nice home!” The tall woman leans against the counter, holding herself up with an arm that goes behind your form.

“Thank you. It’s very spacious. I find myself lonely at times,” Her large, black eyes stare down at you, trying to send you a message through them alone.

“Oh, well, have you tried getting a roommate? Maybe the flat won’t be so empty,” She nods at your words.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. Would you be my roommate?” You laugh, thinking that she’s joking. Not bothering to look up, as you take another swig of your drink, you don’t see the somewhat hurt look on her face.

“That would be something! Not only are we seatmates, but we’re also roommates,” You giggle some more, taking more sips of your delicious drink, “But, your flat is a lot nicer than mine. I may take up on your offer.”

Looking up, you see her grin at you approvingly, “Yes, that would be nice,” What you don’t know is that her lease is almost up, making it so she has paperwork she needs to fill out. Paperwork that would look great with your co-sign on it.

Three drinks in, and you’re feeling a bit woozy. Typically, you’re not a lightweight, but it seems that you are tonight.

Leaning your upper body onto Yelena’s strong form, you laugh hysterically at something Reiner says, “Oh my God, you’re hilarious-” You cut yourself off with a snort, causing the entire room to laugh at your cute giggling.

The short haired woman you’re currently using as a pillow holds you tenderly, a pleased smile on her face. The stuff Annie gave her works very well.

“Man, if you weren’t Yelena’s girl, I would’ve cuffed you a semester ago!” Reiner roars wholeheartedly, slapping the leather couch below him.

In your cloudy mind, you barely understand the words he just said, “Haha, wha-?”

Pushing your head into her breasts, Yelena shushes you, “My poor baby is such a lightweight,” She and the others chuckle at that understatement, “I think it’s time to turn in for the night.”

Her civil way of kicking everyone out was enough, as everyone trickles out of her luxurious flat. Once the last person leaves, Yelena stands to her feet, scooping you up in her buff arms. She goes to her lift, pressing the lock input, she types in the lock code, not allowing anyone in or out of her home. Your high mind can barely comprehend what’s going on around you.

She hums an unknown tune, as she goes up her steps to her master bedroom. Kicking open the door, she flips on her bedroom light with her elbow, before shutting the door with her foot. Sauntering to her California King sized bed, she lays your drugged out form on her light grey coloured sheets.

“-Lena, wha-” Your head lulls to the side as you giggle uncontrollably, “-Are- are we dating?” She hums in response, starting to pull down your skirt.

“Yes, my Darling Girl,” She smooches your forehead, “We’ve been together since I moved here,” Pulling your skirt’s fabric down and off of your legs, she tosses it on the floor, exposing your pink panties.

“Bu-but, I like Marco,” You weakly attempt to push her grabby hands away from you, “I-I wan’ Marco!”

The feelings of disgust, envy, and fury overwhelm her all at once. How dare you! She’s always treated you so well, that spineless fucker doesn’t deserve anything from you! He especially doesn’t deserve your wonderful heart!

She says nothing, grabbing your blouse, and chucking it off of you. Your breasts jiggle at her ministrations, your bra just barely containing your tits. Seeing your almost bare, perfect body makes her pussy tingle, but her anger outweighs her arousal.

Settling on the bed, she grasps your boneless body, and pulls you over her knees. You’re still muttering and questioning the validity of your relationship, all whilst saying that horrible boy’s name, causing her to cup the fat of your ass and squeeze harshly.

“Baby, you know better than to say those horrible things. I love you very much, and it hurts to hear you say that.”

Your breasts, arms, and head rest over her left knee, as you try to look up at her stern face, “But-”

“No buts, you know what happens when you act like a brat,” She slaps your ass experimentally, earning a pained yelp. A small smirk covers her lips, and she hits your ass as hard as she can.

“‘M sorry! ‘M sorry! I didn’t mean it!” Your pleading is cute, so cute.

“I know you didn’t, Princess. But I have to remind you of your place,” She slams her hand down once more, jolting your entire body. A shrill cry leaves your lips, as you try to move off of her lap, but seemingly can’t find the strength to do so.

After five more smacks, the blonde pulls you onto her lap in a straddling position. One of her arms wraps around your top half, pushing your crying face into her neck. The other is wrapped around your waist, hand smoothing over your bruising ass, and playing with the hem of your panties.

“Don’t cry, Princess. You know I had to set you straight,” She coos, “Your stupid, little brain is far too gone to understand at the moment, but you will once you sober up. So, for now, let your Daddy make you feel good.”

You mutter nonsensical words in between your sobs, but the large woman isn’t put off. After she’s done with you, you’ll never think of that freckled fuck ever again. At least, you won’t unless you want him dead.

Wrestling your pliant body to the mattress once more, she leaves you on the bed by yourself, before rolling onto the left side. Opening the top drawer of her nightstand, she pulls out a pair of handcuffs, a battery powered hitachi wand, duct tape, and a small bottle of lube. Setting them on the bed by your writhing form, she quickly makes her way back to you.

“Shh, it’s alright, Princess. I’m right here,” Yelena reaches under you, fiddling with your bra’s hooks until it pops open, allowing her to slide your useless arms out of the garment. Tossing it aside, she sucks in a deep breath, enjoying the view of your plush chest. Experimentally, she pinches your right nipple, relishing the small moan you let out at the feeling. Gripping the handcuffs next to you, she feeds your dainty wrists through the opening, popping the pink, plush cuffs on tightly. Happy with the result, she continues her endeavour.

Moving farther down your body, she leaves your socks on, loving how your thigh fat squishes up a bit. Grabbing the hem of your cute, pink panties, she pushes them off of you, exposing your pretty cunny. It separates from you with a small string of slick, filling Yel with a sense of satisfaction. You’re her perfect pain slut, aren’t you?

Pushing on your pliant legs open, she smiles happily down at you, dark eyes blown wide open, “Awe, is your slutty pussy wet for me?”

You shake your head rapidly, disorienting yourself more than before, “Nu-no! It’s not!” She clicks her tongue teasingly, her smile growing wider than before.

“Don’t lie to me, Princess. Now I have to punish you once more,” Forcing your legs open, she holds them down with her own, straddling your waist. Her large form easily overpowers you, as she grabs the blue hitachi wand, and flips it on to the highest setting. Pushing it against your clit with a swift motion, your entire body jolts at the sudden stimulation. A loud whine leaves your lips, as you try to buck it off of your sensitive cunny.

“Puh-please! Take it off! It’s too much!” Yelena snickers in delight, ignoring your pleading. Grabbing the duct tape from beside you, she rips off a few long strips, before smacking them onto your skin and the vibrator, effectively keeping it attached to you.

Your moans and whimpers continue to grow louder and louder, as you try your best not to cum. You bite your lips in the hopes of stifling yourself, but it does little to help. If anything, it just spurs the large woman on.

“Go on, cum for me, cum for Daddy,” You shake your head, a few keens falling from your mouth, as she watches in awe at the way your cunny leaks and clenches around nothing.

Your toes curl in ecstasy as you cum, a loud whine escaping you. A gush of your orgasm flows from you, wetting the blonde woman and the mattress below. Two long, slender fingers prod at your slick pussy, forcing themselves inside your sensitive walls.

“Good Girl, You’re so Good for me,” They Start to move in a ‘come hither’ motion, hitting your g-spot repeatedly with how long her fingers are.

“Too much! Too much!” You cry, as she quickly brings you over the edge once more.

More slick sprays from your cunny, as overstimulation begins to set in. Yelena captures your lips with hers, thrusting her tongue into your mouth. The kiss is wet and hot, as she grips at your plush chest.

“No, no it’s not, Baby. It’s not enough,” Fumbling with her fly, she releases the strap she’s been wearing all night. In all honesty, she’s surprised that you hadn’t noticed the bulge or felt it underneath your ass earlier. It’s a good ten inches in length, and around 5.5 inches of girth.

It is pretty intimidating for most, but due to your fucked out stupor, it should feel amazing for you. Grabbing the lube, she squeezes a small amount onto the silicone cock, smoothing it over the toy in sync with her fingers pumping inside of you.

Deeming the toy and your cunny ready, she makes the next move. Sliding off of your numb legs, she stands to her feet, towering over you in all of her glory. Hefting you up and off of the mattress, she quickly punched your back against her pristine, white wall. Forcing your arms around the back of her head, she continues to kiss your drooly mouth vigorously.

Wrapping your legs around her slender waist, her large leg muscles and arms work to hold you up. Guiding your dripping cunny over the tip of her strap, she slowly sinks you onto it.

A keen of both surprise and pleasure rips out of your throat, as you grip onto her short, blonde locks. Giggling, she bucks her hips into yours sharply, causing you to orgasm on the spot. The vibrator and her strap on feels like heaven.

Throwing your head back in bliss, you feel your arousal drip onto her dress pants, creating even more wet spots than before. Separating from your lips, she grins down at you.

“Look at you, dirty Girl,” She spanks your ass harshly with one hand, as she continues a hardcore pace. The tip of the silicone cock batters against your cervix, causing you to cry out in both pleasure and pain, “You love it when Daddy ruins your pussy, don’t you?”

Too fucked out to think properly, you nod your head vigorously, “Uh-huh! Uh-huh! I love Daddy’s cock!” She kisses your cheek tenderly, not stopping her thrusts for even a moment. Moving her lips down your vulnerable neck, she starts to suck the tender skin, leaving dark love marks on your pretty skin.

“Mmm, good Princess! Since you’re such a good girl, I think you deserve a treat. Do you want a treat? Does your dumb little mind even understand what I’m saying?” You nod once again, eyes teary and pleading.

“Yes! Yes! I want a treat, please, Daddy!” Smirking against your skin, she reaches into her pocket from around your thigh.

“Since you asked so nicely-“ She presses the injector lever, shooting a large load of fake cum into your gummy, needy pussy. You cum almost immediately, this clearly being the biggest orgasm of the night, as you practically convulse and squirt a geyser of cum all over the place, “I think you deserve Daddy’s cum inside you.”

You practically sob at the overstimulation and the feeling of being so full, “Thank you! Thank you, Daddy!” You kiss her of your own volition, surprising the large woman. Her heart warms, loving how you’ve become so submissive.

Cradling you’re form to her muscular body, she saunters back towards the bed, pushing any other objects off and into the night side table.

Placing you on the now dry sheets, she quickly flicks off the vibrator still taped to your clit, before placing it on the table beside her. Plucking off the duct tape, she then takes off your handcuffs, effectively freeing you. Instead of moving away from the woman, you lay there tiredly, no longer processing the situation.

Sighing in content, Yelena grabs a hand towel from the drawer she keeps her sex toys in, and wrestles it under your hips. Smiling, she removes the strap from inside of you, enjoying the sight of the fake cum flooding out of you.

Laying next to you, she pulls your head into her chest, curling around you as if she were a safety blanket.

“You did well, Princess,” You don’t say anything, snuggling into her warmth, “Go to sleep, tomorrow we’ll announce our official status, okay?”

An slurred ‘Okie’ is heard, before you slip into unconsciousness. Cupping your face in appreciation, her dark eyes glance in the direction of a small green light coming from her video camera.

Now you’ll have to date her; after all, you wouldn’t want your sex tape to get out, would you?

#yelena #yelena x reader #yandere yelena #yandere aot #yelena brainrot #yelena aot #aot x reader #yelena thirst #yelena smut #yelena supremacy #yandere aot x reader

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rubysunnday · 3 years

Text

stupid in love

request by anon: hey congrats for 2.6k followers, that's so cool!!! I don't know if i'm too late but can i request jesper from shadow and bone x reader with prompt 5? would love for it to be romantic :) congrats again and thank you if you decide to write it!! <3

A/N: is this romantic? no idea but I've been writing this for like a month and I'm beyond done with it so have whatever the fuck this is

warnings: six of crows stuff, blood, swearing, alludes to suicide throughout

"I threw myself out a window for you! What more do you want from me?"

Y/N almost punched him. Him throwing himself out the window was the entire reason she was annoyed at him. It had been terrifying and Y/N had thought Jesper was dead. But Jesper had taken it as another fable to tell the punters - hadn't realised how lucky he was. Y/N glowered at Jesper from across the bar as she poured him another shot.

"Maybe for you to actually pay for these shots?" Y/N asked, sliding the shot glass along the bar top to Jesper.

Jesper picked it up and downed it with one smooth movement. "Ah, it's fine, put it on my tab."

Y/N rolled her eyes but obliged, scribbling down the rapidly growing cost of Jesper's evening. He'd actually only had three shots - the rest had been spread around the entire club in celebration of something or other.

Their last job had been chaotic as usual. Jesper had thrown himself out a window, Kaz had almost gotten shot and they'd blown a few things up. But the image of Jesper falling through a window had stuck with Y/N all night.

The entire reason Y/N had ended up in the Dregs was because of her sister. Her sister, who had gone insane, and leapt off a roof, plummeting to her death in front of Y/N. Every time Y/N relived Jesper falling, she saw him in her sister's place. She saw his body instead of hers.

Which was why, Jesper making jokes about his window-smashing exploits wasn't appreciated at that moment.

"'ello, Y/N," Rotty said jogging up to the bar with a beaming smile, breaking her out of her thoughts.

"Evening, Rotty," Y/N called, setting the cleaned glasses on the side. "What can I do for you?"

"Boss wants you," Rotty replied. He gestured over his shoulder at Jesper who was singing a rowdy sea shanty with an arm around a red-haired woman who looked like an actual mermaid. "And him."

"Have you told him?"

"I did."

"And?"

"He said 'in a moment'."

"Oh for -" Y/N bought her fingers to her lips and whistled. Loudly.

The entire bar fell silent and everyone turned to stare at her. She pointed at Jesper and then up at Kaz's office door.

"You, upstairs, now," Y/N demanded.

Jesper sighed, grumbling to himself as he slid off the redhead's lap and practically stomped after Y/N as she walked up the stairs.

She paused at the top and looked down at the still silent bar. "Carry on."

The chatter and sound of money being lost quickly restarted. Y/N shut the office door behind her, the noise from downstairs all but disappearing behind the thick, iron door.

Inej was, unsurprisingly, already there. She stood near to Kaz, her hands clasped behind her back with her hood up. As Y/N approached Kaz, he looked up at her and then at Jesper who'd flopped down in a plush armchair near the window.

"Is he drunk?"

"No," Y/N replied, sitting down in the chair Kaz had in front of his desk and crossing her legs. She fanned out her skirt and clasped her hands together in her lap. "He bought shots for everyone in the club but he's only had three."

"Good, I need him sober," Kaz replied. He gave Jesper a cursory glance over his shoulder. "Jesper, come here."

Jesper stood up and skulked over to the desk, leaning over Y/N's head to see what was on the desk. "Is that -"

"Yes."

"And are we -"

"Yes."

Y/N frowned and sat forward, looking at the plans laid out on Kaz's desk. She raised her eyebrows. "The Geldrenner Hotel? Really? What's there."

"You mean who is there," Kaz corrected. He handed Y/N a newspaper cut out featuring a grainy print of a member of the Merchant Council.

"Is that Van Halla?" Y/N asked, squinting at the print. "Isn't he meant to be in Os Alta?"

"He's on holiday and is staying at the Geldrenner with his wife and entourage or fifty," Kaz replied. "And whilst he is here, he's attending the extravagant birthday of Van Eck."

"Oh, I see where this is going," Y/N said, nodding. "I saw the Van Eck birthday present list - what did Halla get?"

"The Millenium Watch."

Three pairs of eyes looked at Kaz with surprise and shock.

"I'm sorry, you want us to steal the Millenium Watch?" Jesper asked, gaping. "One of the most expensive watches in history?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I need a new pocket watch," Kaz said with a shrug.

"And the real reason?" Inej asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I've made a deal with someone - in exchange for the Millenium Watch we get the plans to the Boeksplein."

"And what's there?"

"Need to know."

The three of them scoffed but weren't entirely surprised.

"Now, are you done interrogating me?" Kaz asked. "Because I would like to get on with the job."

'So, here's the plan.'

The hotel was ridiculous grand for the streets of Ketterdam. Granted, it did sit in the middle of the Financial District and was within view of the Stadwatch barracks to avoid any burglaries, heists or assassinations.

It was strictly reserved for the rich and wealthy and the majority of Ketterdam knew they would never be privileged enough to see inside the marbled walls.

And up until now, Y/N had thought herself one of those people.

'Jesper, Y/N, you two will go in disguised as staff. Inej will be on the roof and sneak in through the skylight.'

'And what about you, Kaz?"

"I, darling, Y/N, will be causing a distraction.'

"What do you mean there's no reservation for me?!"

Y/N looked up from the bin she was emptying. Kaz was standing at the front desk, dressed in a - quite frankly ridiculous - outfit, waving his arms around and swearing. A lot. Y/N glanced over at Jesper, a smile pulling on her lips. "I take it that that's the distraction," she whispered.

As Kaz continued to flap his arms like a bird, Y/N and Jesper headed over to the hand-operated elevator. The two of them nodded at the elevator operator.

"Seventh floor, please," Jesper said, clasping his hands in front of him.

"Oh, oh, wait, please!"

A woman, dressed in the ridiculous fashions of the wealthy, bustled into the elevator, dragging about eight different cases and hat boxes with her.

"You," she said, snapping her fingers at Jesper, "take these up to my room - number 754b." The woman turned to Y/N. "Be a dear and take these."

Before Y/N could protest, a black, leather briefcase was pushed into her arms as Jesper was pushed out the door. The elevator operator sighed and began working the elevator up to floor 7.

"I like your dress, ma'am," Y/N said, attempting to break the awkward elevator music.

"Oh, aren't you a dear!" The women cooed. "My husband - Van Halla - bought it for me."

Y/N almost dropped the briefcase.

'What floor is Van Halla staying on?'

'Seventh floor, room 54b, Inej. It's the penthouse and the only room with a skylight.'

'Which is how Inej is getting in. But how are we getting out?'

'Front door, Y/N. If this goes to plan, we'll walk out that hotel through the front door with the watch.'

'And if something goes wrong?'

'Well, then, Jesper, I guess you'd better get acquainted with Hellgate.'

The elevator trundled up to the seventh floor and Y/N traipsed after the woman - who was, apparently, Van Halla's wife - to the penthouse.

As Y/N stepped into the penthouse, one thing went through her mind.

Money does not buy you taste.

And that was coming from someone who lived in the Slat which was, to be fair, held up by sheer terror at what Kaz may do should it collapse.

"Just leave the bags in the bedroom, darling," the woman called, waving a hand to the right.

Y/N hovered awkwardly for a moment, trying to work out where exactly in the cavernous, garishly white and orange room she was pointing to. Eventually, Y/N spotted a double door - bright orange like the cushions on the sofa - and assumed that was the bedroom.

She opened the doors and almost dropped the bags.

The 'bedroom' was bigger than her room. In fact, it was probably bigger than her room, Jesper's room, Kaz's room and Inej's room combined.

"Damn," Y/N muttered, her eyes wide. "What it is to have money, huh?"

Y/N dumped the bags on the floor near the wardrobe and turned to go when a small, black velvet box sat on a table. She paused.

"Do you want me to unpack the bags, ma'am?" Y/N called, quietly approaching the table, trying to get a closer look at the engraved plaque on the top of the box.

"No, no, you're fine!"

Y/N stood in front of the table, her heart pounding. Happy birthday, Van Eck was engraved on the top of the box. Y/N reached into her pocket and pulled out an identical box.

'So, we switch the boxes?'

'Thanks to Jesper's hidden talent - no need to roll your eyes, Jesper - we have an exact replica of the watch. Minus a few details, obviously, drawings and sketches only give so much detail.'

'And if we get caught with the watch? Because either way, they'll know something's up.'

'Best not to get caught then, Y/N. However, if for whatever someone isn't at the rendevous, we'll plan something.'

'So reassuring, Kaz.'

'Oh, good, I'm glad, I was concerned I my tone wasn't coming across.'

Y/N glanced out into the main room of the penthouse and quickly switched the boxes, making sure the fake was in the exact same position as the original. She slipped the original into her pocket and stepped out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

"If that's all then, ma'am," Y/N said, bowing to the woman.

"Yes, yes, thank you," she said, nodding.

Y/N headed towards the front door when it swung open and a large man, with a red face and a huge moustache, stormed in.

"Excuse me, sir," Y/N said, pressing herself to the wall as he marched past.

The man barely looked at her - he just sniffed.

"Victoria! Why did you not wait for me?" He called.

"You were busy having a go at some man, darling," the woman - Victoria - replied. "Feel better for yelling?"

"Oh, wife, you know me too well."

Y/N quickly left the room before Van Halla started kissing his wife. They were only some things she could cope with.

With the watch secure in her pocket, Y/N made her way back down to the elevator. She spotted Jesper on her way - struggling with the numerous bags Van Halla had apparently abandoned.

Y/N whistled at him and gestured her head, tapping her wrist. Jesper dropped the bags - Y/N was certain she heard something smash - and jogged up to her side.

"You got it?"

"It was surprisingly easy," Y/N whispered as they headed to the elevator. "It was lying there."

The music in the elevator played joyfully as they rode down - Y/N was trying not to bop to the light plinking piano music.

'So, once we've got the watch. How do we get out?'

'No need to point between you and Jesper, Y/N, I knew who you meant. You two will go out the servant's entrance here and meet Inej and I where the carriages are stored.'

'And if things go to shit?'

'Luckily for you, Jesper, I have plans ranging from A all the way to T.'

'What happens if we get to S? Damn, Kaz, no need to glare at me like that, Saints. You could set me on fire!'

'Shut up, Y/N.'

"Never, boss.'

The servant's entrance was quiet and empty which was a blessing for Jesper and Y/N - especially since Y/N could feel the watch box beginning to metaphorically burn a hole in her coat.

A guard was sat in the chair by the door, intently reading a book. He looked up as they approached and smiled.

"Ah, hello!" He said, standing up. "Right, let's do this quickly, shall we? I'm at a good point in my book. So, you know and I know this but I have to state it again for rules - I have to search you as you come in and out the building since we have numerous Merchants staying here. We don't want anything expensive to get stolen since we can't afford a lawsuit!" He clapped his hands. "So, which one of you wants to get searched first?"

Y/N and Jesper shared a look.

"I'll go first," Y/N volunteered, stepping forward and holding her arms out.

The guard patted her down, humming joyfully as he did so. "Perfect! And you, sir?"

Jesper stepped forward but tripped over the leg of the chair, knocking the chair over and jogging the table and knocking a vase over.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Jesper exclaimed, kneeling down to pick up the vase.

"Oh, it's fine, I do it all the time," the guard said, smiling. "Anyhoo."

Jesper set the vase on the table and lifted his arms. "You know, this isn't usually how I like to begin."

The guard looked up at him and raised his eyebrows, smiling. "No?"

"No. I prefer a more intimate setting."

Y/N rolled her eyes and sighed. She cleared her throat pointedly and Jesper winked at the guard, stepping aside.

"Seriously?" Y/N hissed as they walked down the side street to the garage at the back.

"It worked, didn't it?" Jesper replied.

"Oi!"

Jesper turned with a smile on his face, fully expecting it to be the previous guard. Except it wasn't. A sterner looking guard was marching towards them both with a glare in his eyes.

"The idiot back there forgot to ask for your papers," he snapped. "Papers. Now."

'What happens if we need papers to get in and out?'

'I've thought about that.'

'And?'

'Well, best get running. And try to avoid bullets.'

'Why did I expect anything else from you, Kaz?'

Jesper's hand brushed against Y/N's as he stepped forward, communicating silently the plan.

Which consisted of nothing more than run.

"We forgot our papers," YN said smoothly.

The guard raised his eyebrows. "Well, then I can't let you leave until I've contacted your supervisor. You'll have to come with me."

As the man reached out to grab Y/N's wrist, she grabbed his arm, and using all her strength, flipped him over her back and into the floor.

"Go!" Y/N yelled, shoving Jesper up the hill as she ran down it.

Y/N leapt over the guard and ran down the street, the steep gradient speeding her up. The garage was at the other end of the street - up the hill where Jesper had gone - but Y/N knew the guard would be chasing after her.

For a moment, all Y/N could hear was her pounding heartbeat, her vision bouncing up and down as she ran. And then a gunshot cracked out.

Y/N stumbled forward and then darted to the right, hiding in a bush in someone's garden as she panted. She kept quiet as she heard the guard stop right in front of her bush. Y/N didn't allow herself to relax until the guard swore loudly and jogged back up the hill.

Y/N leant her head back against the wall behind her and felt tears well in her eyes as she pressed a hand to her stomach. The bullet had gone through her back and out through her stomach. There was so much blood and the pain was overwhelming - almost blinding.

But, Y/N forced herself out of the bush and to her feet. There was a back alley with a set of stairs leading up to the garage - a very steep set of stairs, mind.

Step by step, Y/N climbed up the stairs, tightly holding onto the handrail as she climbed. Thankfully, the row of expensive-looking carriages was at the top of the stairs and Y/N's knees nearly buckled with relief when she saw the familiar slim shape of Inej.

"Inej," Y/N gasped, falling forwards onto her knees.

Inej ran over to Y/N, her feet silent on the cobbles. She knelt down next to her and held Y/N up with a hand on her uninjured side. "What happened?"

"Oh, turns out we need papers to get out," Y/N grunted, hissing with pain as Inej pressed a black handkerchief - that looked suspiciously like the one Kaz carried - against her front wound.

"Where's Jesper?"

"No idea. Where's Kaz?"

"No idea."

"Excellent, at least we're on the same - ow - page," Y/N inhaled sharply, her hand flying to grab Inej's arm as a wave of pain tossed her into a rock. "Saints."

"It went straight through, thankfully, so I think if we stitch it when we get back and keep it clean -"

"I'll live to get shot another day?" Y/N quipped, smiling despite the sheer amount of pain she was in. "I hope one of them appears with a carriage soon."

Inej kept a steady hand on Y/N's side, keeping her propped up on her knees as she tied a scarf around her waist, covering both wounds.

"Thank you," Y/N said softly, her head resting against Inej's shoulder.

"For what?" Inej asked, frowning. "For saving your life? Again? Because I'd do that even if you'd pissed me off."

A breath of laughter escaped Y/N's lips as she lifted her head. "No. Just for being here. Jesper and I..."

"I know," Inej said quietly. "Does he know?"

"About what? About how I had to watch him fall out a third storey window, not knowing if he was alive or dead? To have to cope with the mental images I have of his broken, bleeding body lying in the streets only to be thrown onto the Reaper's Barge? To know that every time I close my eyes I see Jesper where my sister was? I see Jesper jumping off the roof and plummeting instead of her? I see him staring back at me with glassy eyes and a broken neck and bleeding and -"

"Ok, ok, calm down," Inej shushed, putting a hand on the back of Y/N's head. Y/N sobbed, burying her face into the crook of Inej's neck. She cried for her dead sister, for the fact Jesper was at times an oblivious idiot and for the fact her side really fucking hurt.

"Inej I just keep seeing him lying there," Y/N sobbed. "I know he's fine but I -"

"I know, Y/N, I know," Inej said softly, stroking her hair back. She gently took her face between her hands. "But he is not your sister. Ok? Now, come on we need to get you standing."

Y/N managed to get her feet underneath her and with help from Inej, she was soon standing up - albeit a bit wobbly. Inej kept a hand on Y/N's arm, the physical contact keeping them both going as they waited for Kaz and Jesper.

Not even a minute later, a carriage rolled down the street with Kaz and Jesper in the driver's seat.

"Don't tell Jesper," Y/N said suddenly, panic in her voice.

Inej nodded. "I won't."

Kaz's dark eyes looked Y/N up and down as Jespe halted the horses to a stop. "Trouble?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle," Y/N replied, trying to hide her wince of pain as she tried to stand straighter.

"Inej?"

Y/N rolled her eyes. Kaz had quickly caught on to the fact she often downplayed her pain when injured, so he often asked literally anyone else.

"Through and through - she'll be fine if get back soon," Inej replied.

"Good, on you get."

Y/N climbed inside the carriage, sinking into the velvet green seat with a sigh of relief. Inej hovered by the open door before eventually coming to a decision.

"I'll be up front if you need me," she said softly, knowing that Y/N needed a moment alone.

Y/N had never been so grateful that Inej was her best friend. The carriage doors shut, and with the curtains pulled over the windows, it was blissfully dark. Y/N closed her eyes and relaxed as best she could - she kept a hand tightly pressed over Inej's scarf and her wound.

She didn't realise she'd fallen asleep until someone tapped her knee. Y/N jumped and opened her eyes to Jesper staring at her with eyes full of concern.

"You alright?"

"Mmmhmm."

"Y/N... why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not."

Jesper sat down opposite her as the carriage resumed moving. "You are. Ever since the last job you've been acting weird."

Y/N shrugged. "Sorry."

Jesper frowned. "Is this about the last job? Look, I didn't actually fall out a window for you..."

Jesper's words faded away as Y/N's mind was filled with the memory of Jesper falling. And then it wasn't Jesper it was her sister again. And then it was Inej. And even Kaz. Over and over again they were falling and falling and falling.

"Stop the carriage!"

The carriage had barely stopped before Y/N practically threw herself outside, her side screaming in protest at the sudden movement. She didn't give anyone a second glance as she moved off the open road and down into the hedgerow. There was a small river running through the field near them - one that leads into the Ketterdam canals - and Y/N fell to her knees on the banks of it, plunging her hands into the water.

Stupid, so, so stupid. It had been years since her sister had died and just when Y/N thought she'd moved on, Jesper pushed her back miles and miles.

Y/N leant forward, leaning on her hands as she stared down at the water, her knees getting wet as she knelt in the wet grass. She heard a twig snap and sighed. "I'm fine, Jesper, just leave me alone."

"Flattered that you thought I was Jesper, but alas," Kaz said, standing behind her.

Y/N glanced over her shoulder at Kaz. "Sorry, I'll be back in a minute."

Kaz was silent for a minute. "When the memory overwhelms you, find something to ground you. The feeling of something, the sound of something, even. It helps drown it out."

Y/N nodded, sniffing softly. She grunted as she got to her feet, her hand pressed to her side. A quick glance down and she saw red but not too much. "Sorry."

"Trauma doesn't apologise," Kaz said roughly, turning around and heading back up the hill. "So why should you?"

Y/N chuckled to herself. She spotted Jesper at the top of the hill, pacing nervously as Inej tried to calm him down. It took Y/N only a few seconds to decided what to do.

"Jesper, come here," Y/N called, waving him over.

He jogged over to her and his hands were instantly on her shoulders - almost as if he was holding her together. "I'm sorry -"

"Don't be, Jesper," Y/N said softly. She placed her hand over his and rubbed a circle on the back of his hand. "My sister went insane and jumped off a roof when I was fourteen. When I saw you fall out the window... I saw her. She landed in front of me and I stared at her dead, broken body, unable to comprehend what had happened. So, when you fell... I felt like I was fourteen again. And the fact you kept joking about it didn't help. It was nothing you did, Jesper. It's my own trauma rearing its head and wanting to take me down again. I just..."

"I understand," Jesper said softly, his eyes gentle and caring as he looked at her. "And I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. Trauma doesn't apologise so why should we?"

Kaz, who was trying not to listen, smirked to himself. He tapped the side of the carriage with the head of his cane. "Come on, lovebirds, we need to move."

Y/N turned back to Jesper and smile, despite her heart aching. "All I ask, Jesper, is if you could maybe carry me back to the carriage because I really hurt right now."

Jesper laughed. "Of course I can, love."

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone imagines #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows imagines #jesper fahey #jesper fahey x reader #jesper fahey imagine #jesper fahey imagines #jesper fahey x fem!reader

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