#{/temperment and.... *motions to everything* Can you blame him?} | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

maopaoo · 7 days

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|!¡One last time¡! Jiwon

Warnings: Mention of S/A, Graphic description of death, mentions of alcoholism, MDNI +18

The purple is the guy talking

Green is Jiwon

-‘๑’- There is only so much a person can take. You never know what will happen or how safe you are after they finally reach the breaking point

There was only so much a person can endure before they reach their breaking point, and with a volatile temper, it was a miracle that she hadn’t broken earlier.

This week had been hellish; Goo had been expelled because of his idiotic behavior, this wouldn’t have mattered as he still showed up to school regardless. But he slowly began to grow busy with his own personal affairs, the time they spent together dwindling into nothing. She was left to fend for herself once again, a feeling she loathed with every fiber of her being. His annoying presence was something that she had grown accustomed to; it seemed to be the only thing that kept her sane through the cruelties that she endured daily. And now that light had been ripped from her once again.

It took a few days until students realized the disappearance of her friend, but once they did the taunts began again. They seized upon her vulnerability, each word and action piercing like a poisoned arrow. She cowered, absorbing their venom in silence while awaiting for a new ‘angel’ to come in and rescue her. To the others, she seemed like a pitiful creature, a helpless lamb waiting to be rescued. But oh how wrong they were.

For years she had weathered the relentless storm of their cruelty, always casted as the villain of the story, always being the one to bear with the blame for others actions. It was a cycle without end. Ironically, Goo’s presence only amplified their desire to hurt; in their eyes, she was a pathetic waif, too frail to stand her ground, relying on others to fight battles for her. If only they knew why she hadn’t done anything against them, if only they knew that their actions had sealed their unfortunate demise.

“Your little boyfriend isn’t here to protect you anymore.” His brittle voice resonated within her mind, but she barely registered it. Her gaze remained stuck on his; the bright shine that once took place was replaced by a dull, lifeless expression. The memories of their earlier encounters flooded her mind: the feeling of repulsion that rose through her body every time she stood in front of a mirror, the sensation of his calloused hands imprinted upon her once soft skin, what should’ve been a gentle memory was tainted by the vile actions of the man in front of her. They had robbed her of everything she held so dearly—her innocence, beauty, pride, strength. It was finally time to take it all back, and she would spare no expense until feeling complete again.

“Be a good girl and don’t make a fuss, just relax” he crooned, his hand snaking around her head, his fingers combing through her hair before getting a good grip on it.

His words, once paralytic, now ignited a blaze of defiance. She was through with silent submission. The rage that had smoldered for years now boiled over. In this moment, she was no longer a victim but an avenging force, she would never let anyone take anything else from her ever again.

“Get your hands off of me..” she muttered under her breath in an airy tone, her gaze was clouded, her hands slowly wandering around until landing on a piece of broken glass.

“Speak up," he spat, his words laced with contempt. His calloused fingers twisted in her hair, yanking her head back with savage force, sending shockwaves of pain down her spine. The brutal motion exposed her vulnerable throat, making her feel like prey in the jaws of a predator. With his other hand, he roughly grasped her chin, forcing her to confront him face-to-face.

“I said, Get your filthy hands OFF OF ME!” He had no time to react; by the time he had raised his fist, the shard had been stabbed into his eye socket. A gruesome shriek escaped his mouth, immediately letting go of her hair as he covered his bleeding flesh with his hands. “WHAT THE F*CK.”

The jagged glass punctured his cornea with a sickening pop, slicing through vitreous humor and optic nerve. As he impulsively tried to blink, his eyelid snagged on the shard, peeling back like a ripped curtain. Blood gushed forth, mingling with fragments of iris and lens that now dangled from the torn socket.

Jiwon was quick to follow through, swiping his feet with hers, knocking him down. Her body found itself on top of his, yanking the shard out of his eyeball. It dripped with blood, almost making it impossible for her to hold. Regardless, she held on tight, the splatters of his blood slowly beginning to mix with hers as the sides bore into her skin. She raised her hand once again aiming for his remaining eye, his hand quickly stopping her in desperation to keep his sense of sight.

Using her weight as leverage, she bore down, driving her knee into his chest. The impact was seismic; he wheezed as his lungs spasmed, robbing him of breath. In that moment of paralysis, his grip on her wrist slackened. She seized the opportunity, plunging the shard into his remaining eye.

This time, her aim was lower, the glass slicing through his lower eyelid and into the bone. A wet crunch resonated as she twisted the weapon, splintering the orbital floor. His eyeball, now severed from its muscular moorings, began to protrude unnaturally. She yanked out the shard, dripping with the gelatinous consistency of what once was his optic nerve.

His screams became animalistic, howls that echoed off the walls out into the street. No one could hear them, after all he made sure to find the best spot for their games. Blood fountained from his ruined sockets, painting Jiwon's face. Her face remained motionless, not daring to give him any chance of survival.

“Not so tough without your eyes, are you?” she asked in a calm manner. Her hand found his throat, fingers digging into his arteries. As his oxygen supply diminished, his arms flailed, the desperation lending him strength. His nails dashed across her cheek, leaving crimson furrows, but she didn't even flinch.

Instead, she reached for the discarded shard, this time aiming for his mouth. “Let's see how you like having something forced down your throat.” She jammed the glass between his teeth, she was enjoying this. Why did she put up with years of constant pressure and abuse when she could’ve simply just ended them. He gagged as the shard hut the back of his palate, mutilating his uvula.

She leaned in, her breath hot against his ear. “Swallow it.” Her command was ice cold, his body trembled and tried pushing her off. “Oh you can’t? Here, let me help you with that”, she clamped his jaw shut and tilted his head back. The glass sliced his esophagus as it went down, each swallow bringing a fresh surge of agony and a warm gush of blood.

His body bucked wildly beneath her, a smile tugged at her lips watching his little dance of torment. She maintained her dominant position, making sure to keep him pinned as he convulsed. One of his thrashes caused his head to slam against the floor, knocking out a tooth, which tumbled into his hemorrhaging mouth. He choked, the tooth and blood forming a lethal slurry that threatened to drown him.

“I've endured years of constant hurt,” she whispered. “Now, in mere minutes, you can't even handle a fraction of what you've dealt out." Her hand, slick with his blood, caressed his cheek in a perverse mockery of tenderness.

“You wanted me to speak up, right? Well this is what it gets you” She leaned in closer, her lips brushing his mangled ones. “You should have just left it at what once was, you should’ve just left me alone.. but you didn’t. And now you’re gonna die, all alone.. no friends, no family… how sad”

His gurgles were becoming weaker, his resistance fading. Yet even as life drained from his body, Jiwon felt no satisfaction. The rage that had fueled her brutality still burned within her core.

She slowly opened the door to her home, carefully analyzing her surroundings only to find her mom passed out on the floor. Typical. The woman lay in a tangle of limbs, an empty vodka bottle just out of reach, take out and cigarette butts all surrounding her. The acrid stench of alcohol and stale cigarettes hung in the air, a familiar miasma that Jiwon has grown numb to.

Making her way to the bathroom to clean herself up, she watched as the white marble slowly turned crimson while the water cleaned her dirtied body. The contrast was mesmerizing. Pure, white stone slowly being tainted by her dark deed. It was poetic, she thought, how something so clean could be tainted so easily, in a way it reminded her of the reason for her outburst. Her innocence, once so pure and clean tainted by the man who had lost his life to her hand.

The hot water stung her wounds, particularly the gashes on her cheek where he had clawed her. As she scrubbed, flakes of dried blood and small chunks of... something else... swirled down the drain. Was that a bit of his iris? A shred of his lip? Who knew, she just continued with her routine.

Her mind wandered to how long it would take for him to be found. Weeks? Months? Considering the place where he had been buried, it was unlikely to be anytime soon. The abandoned coal mine on the outskirts of town where he had held some of his favorite memories, where he took her that first time. More than likely his favorite place to hang out with the rest of his repulsive friends. She had done him a favor, dying in the same place he lived the most. That coal mine was what brought their town to life,and now it stood as a decrepit monument to industrial decay, shunned by all but those who had something to hide.

She had chosen a line deep in the tunnels, one that had collapsed years ago. The rubble provided the perfect camouflage; after rolling his body into it, she simply shifted some rocks to conceal it. Even if someone ventured that far in, an unlikely event given the mine's reputation for structural instability, they'd mistake any protruding limb for just another twisted metal scrap.

Nature served as a perfect aid for her cover-up. In those damp, lightless tunnels, decomposition would take over quicker. Bacteria, insects, perhaps even larger animals would work tirelessly, breaking down his remains. By the time anyone discovered him, he'd be little more than a skeleton, his identifying features long obliterated. The irony wasn't lost on her: he who had sought to strip her identity would become anonymous himself. His family might remember, they would live with the image of a perfect son stripped from their grasp unjustly. But those vultures who he called friends could give less of a shit about him, give it a year, or maybe even less. His name would soon be forgotten by everyone around him.

She barely had any worries about being caught, even if they suspected her, she was nothing but a mere sheep. In the bathroom mirror, her reflection was enough to tell the suffering she had been put through. Her neck, ringed with dark bruises from his strangulation attempt, the shredded lines on her cheek from his nails tearing into her skin. If anything happened she could retort to self defense, after all this wasn't an act; it was the genuine aftermath of her ordeal.... She had been a victim, at least until the moment she turned the tables so savagely.

She pressed her back against the cool tile, the weight of her actions suddenly felt overwhelming. For a fleeting second, she saw not the face of a cunning survivor but that of a teenage girl in way over her head.

But then, memories resurfaced. His hands on her body, his breath on her neck, the feeling of utter violation. The years of taunts, each one a small death to her self-worth. Her mother, too drunk to protect her, to even notice her pain. The system that had repeatedly failed her, excusing such behaviors and asking her to be better so they wouldn’t continue to tease her.

Her gaze in the mirror hardened. No, she wasn't in over her head; she was finally seeing things clearly. If society turned a blind eye to her suffering, she had every right to take justice into her own hands. Her actions weren't just self-defense, she had protected those that would have come after her.

She stepped out of the shower, her skin burning from the hot water and rigorous scrubbing of her skin. As she toweled off, she noticed a smear of blood she had missed on her arm, now diluted to a pale, rose color turning dark wine in contrast to her skin. She didn't wipe it away immediately. Instead, taking a moment to admire it.

This was the beginning of her life, suffering in silence solved nothing. They would never learn, there were so many other predators, enablers, those who watched and did nothing. They were all the cause for this world's problems, and she would make sure that every single one of them would pay.

Finally, she wiped the smear away. Her gaze falling on her buzzing phone, the name of “Goo” appeared on the screen.

“Want to meet on the school roof?”

“Sure.”

Reblogs and notes are appreciated 🙏🙏

#lookism #original character #cw: gore #fanfiction #tw death #banner credit: @cafekitsune #kim joongoo #ao3 #cc x oc

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athenagc94 · 2 years

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Written in Rose Quartz

Chapter 7 - Unsuur/Builder Fic - Obsidian

You can also keep up with it on my AO3 here.

Beginning | Prev | Next

~~~

Summer sucked in the desert.

The air was already warm and dry, even under the cover of her sunshade and there was always a thin layer of sand coating everything. Somehow, her skin managed to feel both incredibly dry and incredibly damp at the same time. Some days were so boiling hot, so she had no choice but to move her work indoors—even if her stuffy, old workshop was only marginally better by comparison.

She almost forgot how miserable it was out here, having enjoyed a more temperate climate these last few months, but the hottest days were back and all the memories came flooding back to her.

That all being said, Robbie was never more grateful for a hot day than she was at this moment.

Unsuur stood with his back to her, the muscles in his bare back flexing as he fitted one of the broken planks into place on her fence. Each movement showed off just how toned his upper body was and she was definitely not staring at him as he worked.

Oh, who was she kidding? She was definitely staring.

Beads of sweat rolled between his shoulder blades and soaked into the band of his jeans. The bruise on his tailbone still looked downright painful, but he assured her it barely hurt anymore.

She’d just finished applying another layer of sun lotion to her forearms when someone whistled softly. “Oh my, that’s certainly a view and a half.”

Pablo pulled up next to where she sat on her porch. She spared him little more than a glance before turning back to Unsuur. He’d bent over the fence, giving her the perfect view of his ass. She wet her lips with a quick pass of her tongue.

A view and a half was a gross understatement.

“Did he lose a bet or something?” Pablo asked as he settled in the chair next to her. The bottles of different hair tonics clinked softly as he set a small crate at his feet. “I mean, he must have lost a bet, right?”

“You’re the only one who makes bets around here.”

“And you’re the only one who takes me up on them.” She stuck out her tongue and he did it right back. “But that still doesn’t answer my question. Why are you making the poor guy do the heavy lifting while he’s supposed to be recovering? I thought you were the builder here.”

“He insisted on fixing my fence.” She took a long sip of her sand tea and smacked her lips. “And I wasn’t about to stop him.”

Pablo snorted. “And how convenient that he decided not to wear a shirt.” He gave Unsuur an appreciative once over. “I had no idea he was so…” He made a vague gesture, but Robbie understood. She understood all too well what he really wanted to say.

“Well-built.”

Not the word she would have used.

“That uniform wasn’t doing him any favors.”

Robbie merely hummed. If that wasn’t the truth. Unsuur, though tall and swimming in his uniform, was all lean muscle under that Civil Corps jacket. A trail of dark hair started just below his navel and disappeared under the band of his jeans, but Robbie knew where it went. And she was doing everything in her power to not to think about it too hard.

She would give her left tit to run her hands over his bare chest.

“Careful, love.” Pablo poked her in the isde. “You might start drooling.”

“Shush,” she hissed, “He’ll hear you.”

“Pretty sure he’s doing this on purpose.” He motioned to Unsuur as he stretched his arms over his head and made a show of flexing his back. Her pulse quickened. It was a damn shame she could only look. “But can you blame him? I mean, he has to feel you staring at him.”

Robbie puffed out her cheeks. She and Unsuur were perfectly content before he showed up and started spouting off his nonsense. Unsuur was definitely showing off and he knew that Robbie was definitely watching him. But they were never going to address it. That was how the little game worked. Just like they didn’t address their almost kiss the night prior. Or the way his foot kept nudging hers under the table that morning at breakfast—demanding her attention even when his attention was on threading beads through copper thread.

When she nudged him back, the corners of his mouth kicked up in an almost smile and he responded with another. They went back and forth until he hooked his foot behind her knee and drew her in, slotting their legs together like he had the night prior.

It was almost…playful. Flirtatious. They were definitely flirting now.

Nope. That wasn’t something they would ever talk about.

She crossed and uncrossed her legs to relieve some of the unwanted pressure settling between her thighs. “What do you want, Pab?”

“I come bearing gifts!” He nudged the box toward her. “A few different hair tonics for you to test out. Some will help with the frizz. Others will keep the shine and bounce in those curls.” He sniffed. “You’re welcome, by the way.”

“Thanks.” She grabbed one of the bottles and read the label. Tea tree oil—he knew her so well. “But I don’t believe for a second that you walked all the way down here to give me a few bottles of hair treatment.”

“Ya got me.” Pablo smoothed his hair. “I need some help.”

Unsuur grabbed a water flask and took a long drink. She watched his Adam’s apple bob with each gulp. He really was putting on a show for her. Or maybe he was just that dense and had no idea. Either way, she was lapping it up.

She realized Pablo was still looking at her, expecting a response. The twinkle in his eye told her she’d been caught staring. She settled back in her seat and said flatly, “With?”

“Heidi is in desperate need of touch up on her roots.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Robbie set her drink aside and stretched out in her lawn chair. It creaked under the shift of her weight and she wondered if today would be the day it snapped like the piece of shit it was. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to buy a new piece from Arvio. Chairs weren’t that much.

“Well, that particular shade of purple is made using ground lavender stone,” Pablo explained, “which I normally have to special order from Atara.”

Robbie understood. “Which you can’t get right now with the bridge out of commission.”

“Bingo.” Pablo snapped his fingers. “But I know Rocky has found them in the mines before, but when I asked him he said—”

“That he was too busy?”

“That he was too busy. Yes. What is he too busy doing? Brooding behind his desk because he can’t be home with his wife and baby when he’s at work? I swear, he and Yan are more alike than he even realizes.”

Robbie scoffed. “I wouldn’t ever let him hear you say that.”

“Are you kidding? I might be salty, but I’m not stupid.” Pablo clucked his tongue. “What I’m trying to say is, I need someone to go down there to try and find one so I can make the dye myself. Do you mind going for me?”

She lifted her chin, tracing the little shooting star patterns in the fabric of her sunshade. Robbie hadn’t had a day off like this in several weeks and if Unsuur hadn’t insisted she rest while he worked, she might not have taken the time on her own. It seemed like a shame to waste it with a silly errand.

“Do you need it today?”

“You know how Heidi gets when her hair isn’t perfectly dyed.”

Robbie grimaced. She did know and no one needed to be on the receiving end of her temper. There was the added fact that she hadn’t had a decent night of sleep in over a month. “I’ll head down after lunch.”

Pablo threw his arms around her shoulders. “You’re a lifesaver. Not just my life, you might very well have saved all of Sandrock with this one. No one escapes Heidi and one of her moods unscathed.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Robbie shoved him off, “but you owe me.”

“I’ve got a matching lapis lazuli necklace with your name on it,” Pablo winked, “I thought you could use all the wisdom you could get.”

She narrowed her eyes. “What does that mean?”

He leaned in and lowered his voice, “I just thought that maybe you’ll wisen up a little and actually do something about your shirtless house guest out there.” He nodded to Unsuur with a knowing smile and Robbie bristled. “There’s a little surprise with the hair tonics.”

Robbie pursed her lips as she shuffled through the crate. The color drained from her face the moment she stumbled across his little surprise.

“Condoms,” she hissed, “Why the fuck do you think I need condoms?”

“For protection, duh. I know you’re smart enough to wrap it up before you let him ravish you with his rock knowledge or whatever it is you two talk about.”

Robbie glanced back at Unsuur in a panic. His back was to them, blissfully unaware of all the dirty thoughts running through her mind. The lucky bastard. She, on the other hand, had no idea how to scrub the image of her straddling his hips—nothing between them but the heat of their skin. His grip on her thighs would be bruising as she rutted against his cock, chasing the high of her orgasm and…

She clamped down on the arousal pooling in her stomach as she crammed the box back to the bottom of the crate and kicked it away. Nope. Nuh uh. That was not happening. “I won’t be needing those.”

Pablo smirked, “Well, you have them if you change your mind.”

She couldn’t help herself and glanced back in Unsuur’s direction. Fuck. Those back muscles should come with a warning label. “Well, you wasted your gols.”

“Oh no, trust me,” Pablo drawled, “seeing you turn redder than a tomato was well worth the investment.”

Robbie combed her fingers through her curls—partially in exasperation, partially to piss Pablo off by ruining hours of careful curl maintenance. It worked and Pablo made a small noise of protest that was satisfying to hear. “When I find you lavender stone, you’ll be lucky if I don’t chuck it at your head.”

“What’s this about a lavender stone?”

The pair turned to see Unsuur leaning casually on the railing surrounding her porch. His shirt was draped around his neck as he crossed his arms, biceps rippling under his flushed skin. Her heart leapt into her throat. How long had he been standing there? Fuck. Did he know about the condoms? Her gaze betrayed her and she looked at the crate.

“You’re all red in the face,” he noted flatly, ignoring the crate and its offensive contents at their feet. He reached to caress the side of her face then seemed to think better of it and let his hand fall back to his side. “Do you feel overheated? Should we go inside to cool down?”

Pablo muffled a snort in his palm.

“I need to head down to the mines,” Robbie said as she shoved herself out of her chair, “Pablo needs lavender stone for some hair dye.”

“It’s for Heidi,” he clarified—like it mattered to Unsuur.

She offered Unsuur a strained smile. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone, but I’ll try to get back before dinner.”

“Do you want me to go down with you? Or better yet I could—”

She waved him off. “Nah, I think it’ll go faster if I go down by myself.”

“Ah, come on, Robs. Why don’t you let him go down?”

She cut Pablo with a glare sharper than the edge of her sword. He was not helping here. She just got the image of her straddling Unsuur out of her head. Now she imagined him nestled between her thighs, his tongue melted against her. That uncomfortable heaviness was back and she had no way to relieve it. She blamed him.

“Do you want your lavender stone or not?”

He clasped his hands hopefully. “Please.”

“Well, there we go.” She grabbed her pickhammer as she squeezed past Unsuur, the heat of where their bodies touched worse than the scorching sun. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Be safe.” For me. That was the part he left unsaid.

She still remembered their conversation vividly. That hopeful look in his eye when he thought someone might have him in mind when they went about their day. What he didn’t realize is she did so many things these days with him in mind.

As she pushed through her front gate, now in working order thanks to him, she made a promise to herself. Tonight—they would talk about what went unsaid between them. She was tired of all these almosts and unsaid phrases. Tonight, she would change that.

And tonight—she would tell him why it could never work.

***

Unsuur drummed his fingers impatiently on the kitchen table. The finished bracelet sat in front of him. The color combination was hideous—varying shades of ruddy red, green, and pale pink. Even he knew it wouldn’t go with anything—but he hoped Robbie would appreciate the thought that went into it because a lot of thought had gone into it.

More thought than he gave most things outside the Civil Corps.

His gaze flicked to the clock over the loveseat. It was almost ten and a stifling quiet settled over the workshop. The low chug of her machines stopped a few hours ago and the materials were ready to be unloaded. There was no clink of ceramic dishes as Robbie cooked, nor the tuneless hum she sang under her breath when she worked on her jewelry.

Just him, alone, with his thoughts—which was never a pleasant place to be.

Robbie should have been back by now.

He watched the rest of Rocky’s crew head home hours ago through the small window that overlooked the hill with the scrapyard. Every time a shadow passed by the window, his heart squeezed a little tighter until he couldn’t breathe. It was never Robbie and that worried him. His fist clenched on the table as another yakmel passed by the window and got his hopes up for what felt like the millionth time.

Why wouldn’t she let him go down with her?

Why did she have to be so damn stubborn all the time?

Why was it as admirable as it was infuriating?

If she let him get more than a few words in edgewise, she would have known he had a few lavender stones in his collection back home that he would have gladly given to Pablo for his hair dye. Home. That sounded so strange now when he referred to the cramped shack outside the Civil Corps office. Over the last few days, Robbie’s workshop felt more like home than his place ever had.

But maybe that was only because Robbie was there with him—to make it feel that way. Right here, without her, he felt a familiar sense of dread pool in his stomach. One he wasn’t too keen to revisit.

He shoved himself out of his chair. He couldn’t sit back and wait anymore. For all he knew, she was trapped or lost or worse—he didn’t want to think about what could be worse.

He tugged on his boots, forgoing the full Civil garb. That would waste too much time and to hell with protocol. He just needed to know that Robbie was alright. The heckling voice at the back of his mind told him he was overreacting—and maybe he was—but he also knew who he was dealing with. Robbie was a magnet for trouble.

He fastened his gun holster around his hips as he pushed through the doors and out into the dry evening air. The sunset had been beautiful, probably one of the prettiest he’d seen.

It was a shame Robbie wasn’t there with him to see it.

#my time at sandrock #mtas #mtas unsuur #mtas pablo #mtas builder #mtas fanfic

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myuni-moon · 3 years

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[event details]

warnings: yandere content, manipulation, mentions of slight emotional and physical abuse

the cards have given you the answers you seek, and everything has been set in motion. here are the themes present in your reading.

Zhongli

[IX - The Hermit] ; How do they react if you want to breakup?

zhongli won't allow that. he won't allow you to leave him now that he has you in grasp. you've already sealed your fate as his the moment you agreed to be his forever, and he won't let you off that easily. he plans one of his schemes while eerily letting you off. it won't be long until he makes you encounter a danger, one that makes you call on him. he would magically swoop in, defeating whatever it is that made you so shaken up, and he takes advantage for your sobbing state into manipulating you into the mindset that the world is too dangerous for a precious little thing like you. you're just so weak compared to him, darling, so let him take care of you, okay? he'll hush and coo at you as he takes you home. it'll be okay, dearest, just leave everything to zhongli.

Albedo

[IX - The Hermit] ; How do they react if you want to breakup?

an easy solution would be chaining you up and isolating you. he just wants to love you, not necessarily have you love him. as long as he has you in his life, he doesn't really care what methods he would use to keep you with him. you can thrash around, kick him, scream at him, and do whatever to show your displeasure and your anger towards him; he still wouldn't care as long as he was with you. albedo doesn't want to hurt you--far from it-- but if it ever came to it, his last resort would be leaving you in a dark room for a few hours until you learn to be a bit more cooperative.

Kazuha

[IX - The Hermit] ; How do they react if you want to breakup?

he doesn't even give you a chance to want to breakup with him in the first place. have you seen this man? he's easily one of the most romantic men in the game. kazuha would just be the perfect lover to you, without a fault that you can really nitpick at to warrant a breakup. while you're in a relationship, he'd slowly be drilling into your head that he's the one for you, and if you feel like he isn't, then he's just say you were just being paranoid, moody, tired-- whatever negative emotion he can pin the blame on. before you know it, you'd have been brainwashed just enough so you wouldn't leave him.

Baal

[IX - The Hermit] ; How do they react if you want to breakup?

baal has a short temper compared to that of other archons, and it will-- and will-- show if you even drop a hint that you want to separate from her. she is the god of inazuma; the moment you become hers, you are bound to her for all of eternity. she completely owns you, mind, soul, and body. so is she when it comes to you. she won't let you leave her. she'll keep you locked up in inazuma. you'll be able to go to any island you wish, but if you dare try to leave inazuma? all of your rights to leave her estate are instantly revoked for long, long, long period of time.

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sweet-by-and-by · 3 years

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Give Me What I Need- Arthur Morgan x Reader

summary: Arthur finally makes it home after a stagecoach robbery scouted by Uncle goes horrifically sideways. You have just the thing to set his sour mood right.

pairing: Arthur Morgan x Reader

warnings: smut🔞, small spoilers for "An Honest Mistake" in Ch.3

a/n: “It was a dark and stormy night” Just kidding! Kind of. The temptation to start this fic with that sentence was seriously too strong. Just a little diddy I came up with while sitting in a thunderstorm! With our first heatwave inevitably comes a string of wild thunderstorms, and I’m definitely looking forward to sitting in my sunroom and watching the rain. SO much love to @farbenfux for beta-ing this for me!! I can not tell you how much better this fic is now that she’s worked her magic on it ❤ Check her out to see her incredible artwork!

AO3

The crack of thunder startled you, making you jump involuntarily. You laughed at your reaction, chastising yourself for being frightened so easily. You shook your head and returned to your sewing, holding the needle close to the lantern to aid your sight as you slipped your thread through the eye and looped the knot.

It was late evening in Lemoyne, and based on the sound of thunder in the distance and the wind that had picked up after supper, one hell of a summer thunderstorm was rolling in. You and the girls had cleaned up quickly before retreating to your tents, them to their shared lean-to and you to the tent that you and Arthur shared.

As you returned to your mending, your thoughts drifted to your outlaw. The last you saw Arthur, he was riding out to rob some stage coach with Uncle, Charles, and Bill. He was already in a mood when he came to kiss you goodbye, and you were sure getting caught in a storm would do nothing to ease his temper.

You checked your pocket watch, your concern growing as you realized how late it was getting. They should have been back before supper, but the sun had long disappeared behind Flat Iron Lake and there was still no sign of their crew.

You pushed those thoughts to the back of your mind, focusing on your task to distract yourself. It worked for a few more hours when the rain started, but when your watch read past midnight and your lantern flickered as the oil burned low, your stomach had sunk and your heart was hammering. Something had gone wrong and all you could do was wait for one of them to show up, yelling about how the law had got them and they were all fit to hang.

Just as your sinister thoughts had you rising to go find Dutch or Hosea and organize a search party, the canvas walls of your tent flew open. A crack of lightning struck in the distance, its accompanying thunder growing louder than ever. Rain wailed against the side of your tent, testing the waxed canvas for everything it was worth. You yelped as a very wet, very angry Arthur Morgan stormed in through the opening he had made.

Your heart fluttered at the sight of him, and relief flooded through you as you registered that he was okay. You took a deep breath and brought your hand up to your chest, settling yourself from your scare and your hours of worrying.

This was completely unnoticed by Arthur, who stomped over to the table to drop his soaking wet hat. You winced at the sound of water squelching in his boots, and you had to stifle a laugh at how deep the frown was set on his face.

“That man is the laziest, dumbest, drunkest no-good son of a bitch I have ever had the displeasure of knowing,” Arthur growled, sliding his satchel and gunbelt off and throwing them on the table beside his hat. “I swear, the next time he brings in some incredible tip, I’m throwing his pickled ass right into the lake.”

You blinked as Arthur continued his rampage, plopping himself on your cot and fighting to remove his boots.

“Arthur...” you said, drawing his attention to you. You moved to sit next to him on your bed, resting a hand on his shoulder to calm him. “...what the hell happened to you? I’ve been sitting here for hours worrying myself half to death.”

Arthur sighed and chucked his sopping boots, shaking his head and resting his hand on top of yours.

“I’m sorry, Princess,” he said, “I didn’t mean to worry ya’. Things got a little out of hand with the stagecoach. Turns out they ramped up security after Uncle picked up the lead. Had to wait ‘em out in some barn and shoot our way outta the woods. Then this god damn storm came in and soaked me down to my bones,” he explained, gesturing to his dripping hair and soaked jeans.

Your eyebrows shot up to your hairline and your eyes grew wide. You couldn’t believe they had made it out of that glorious mess, and you couldn’t blame him for his frustration. Leaning in to kiss his cheek empathetically, you cupped your hand against the other side of his face and pulled him close.

“Tell you what,” you murmured, a smirk blooming across your face as you swung your leg over to straddle him, “why don’t we get you outta’ these horrible clothes and take your mind off of things.”

Arthur’s hands moved instinctually, settling on your hips. You worked the buttons of his shirt open, placing kisses against his skin as you revealed his neck and chest. You nipped at his collarbone, biting at the sensitive skin with just a hint of teeth before returning to kiss his neck. He hummed happily, the deep sound tingling against your lips.

You pushed his shirt off of his shoulders, forcing him to let go of your hips to free his hands. You took the chance to rise to your feet, hushing his protests as you backed away. He tossed his shirt to the ground with a splat, the sound of the wet fabric making you giggle.

Before Arthur could reach for you, you sank to your knees in front of him. You pushed his thighs apart and crawled in between, looking up at him and batting your eyelashes. Your innocent gaze was a sweet contrast to the movement of your hands, sliding up his thighs to reach for his fly. He groaned at the sight of you, his half-hard cock already straining against the buttons.

He threw his head back and moaned when you unbuttoned his jeans, cupping and squeezing his length through his union suit. You pressed the heel of your palm lightly against the base of his cock, stroking your thumb along the length of his bulge.

He whined quietly when you released him, shushing him as you hooked your fingers in his waistband. He arched to help get his jeans off, lifting his hips as you dragged the wet denim down his legs and tossed them behind you.

You turned your attention to his union suit, rising to your knees to start at the top. He roughly pulled you in for a kiss - all teeth and tongue in his impatience. A small bite to your bottom lip and the following soothing nibbles had you groaning. You forced yourself to pull back, leaning away as he chased you.

A firm push of your hand to his chest pushed him back into a half sitting, half leaning position on your cot."Ah ah,” you scolded, “you’ll get what you want, but you’ll get them on my terms.”

Arthur scowled at your words, glowering at you with unrestrained passion. His eyes narrowed and he grit his teeth, staring you down from his place on the cot. You laughed at his expression, keeping a hand on his chest as you leaned in to press a chaste kiss against his lips, appeasing him only slightly. You returned your focus to his buttons, baring him as you finally uncovered him.

The fabric was just as soaked as the rest of him, his skin glistened from the rain as you revealed him bit by bit. You ran your fingers through his damp chest hair, playing with the soft curls for a moment before resuming your work. Arthur’s hands rest anxiously on his thighs, squeezing the fabric as he tried to resist reaching for the buttons himself. He knew what your terms meant, and any disobedience would draw your motions out even longer.

You rewarded his patience one you were finished by letting him strip himself of his union suit before grabbing his thighs and pushing them wide. You lowered your face to his crotch, dragging your tongue from root to tip of his fully hard member. You wrapped your fingers around him, pulling back his foreskin to circle your tongue along the ridge below his head. He moaned loudly, his hands flitting to the back of your head as he threaded his fingers into your hair. You licked at the velvety crown with just enough pressure to send a shiver up his spine, savouring the taste as you lapped a bead of precum from his slit.

Squeezing the base of his cock lightly, your lips stretched over his head as you swallowed him whole. You felt Arthur’s grip tighten, pulling your hair as you pressed your tongue against him. You forced yourself to relax, taking him as deep as you could until his head brushed against the back of your throat. Arthur groaned at the sight of your nose pressed against the hair at his groin. Your eyes fluttered closed as you moaned in response, the vibrations making him thrust involuntarily as you held him down. You hollowed your cheeks and pulled off, the tip of your tongue teasing his frenulum before releasing him with an audible pop.

You looked up at him with a heated stare, pushing against his hands as you lifted your head. Arthur’s knees weakened at the sight of your pupils blown wide and your lips swollen and rosy, suddenly grateful to already be seated. He took his hands from your hair and held your face, pulling you up to press his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily, bringing you up to sit on his lap once more. He dragged the tip of his tongue along your lip, seeking entrance while his hands worked at the buttons of your blouse. You let him undress you, complying as you deepened the kiss and allowed him to take over.

He made quick work of your blouse and skirt, fighting a little with your corset before getting you down to your chemise. He tugged the garment over your head, tossing it to join the rest of your clothing as he dragged his gaze up and down your body. You flushed under his attention, arching your back to give him a show. He growled at the sight, wrapping his arms around you to hold you against him as he thrust against you.

You gasped at the feeling of him pressed so close to your core, grinding down in search of relief. He ran his hands down your sides, reaching behind to squeeze your ass before slipping a hand between you. He rubbed his thumb against your clit, breathing hot against your neck as he circled your mound. You clutched him and groaned when he slipped a finger inside of you, surprised at how little resistance he met. He quickly added a second, your slick dripping as he stretched you out. You dug into his shoulder when he added a third, working you open perfectly as he crooked his fingers inside of you. He brushed against the spot that made you see stars, and it was your turn to throw your head back and moan. Your hips grinded against his hand, bringing you closer and closer to your edge.

You hissed at the loss of Arthur’s fingers, whining in his ear as he wiped his hand against the bed. He shushed you reassuringly and grabbed hold of himself, lining up until the head of his cock brushed against you. He pushed in slowly, rolling his hips and encouraging you to sink down onto him. You obliged, taking him inch by inch until you were fully seated.

You panted as you adjusted to his size, the tight heat making him whimper against your skin. You clenched around him at the sound, and he let out a broken moan. You rocked against him, his big arms wrapped around you as you eased off of him. He thrust upwards, meeting your hips each time as you set a steady pace.

You felt yourself clawing at his back as you took him deeper each time, the feeling of being so full sending your mind into a haze. Your world shrunk down to the feeling of him . Arthur slipped even deeper as he angled his hips and pulled you down onto him, leaving you gasping at the new stretch. You took him willingly, the sounds falling from your lips growing louder as you felt a familiar heat pool in your stomach. You quickened your pace, using your hands on his shoulders as leverage to ride him, the glorious feeling of him fucking in and out of you sending you barelling towards orgasm.

“Arthur,” you groaned, “I’m gonna-”

“Me too honey, don’t stop!”

The sound of thunder drowned out your cries as you tipped over the edge, the tight flutter of your walls bringing Arthur with you. He pressed his hips against yours as he came, moaning wantonly into the crook of your neck as he bit at the flesh there. You were sure it would leave a mark in the morning for all to see, but you couldn’t find it in you to care at that moment.

Your movements slowed as you both came down, the fogginess in your mind still hanging. You breathed heavily and reached out for Arthur, lifting his head to rest your forehead against his. You stayed like that for a moment, breathing together as you grounded yourself back to reality before dipping in for a kiss.

You pressed your lips against his softly, savouring the afterglow before you forced yourself to rise. Wincing a little when he slipped out of you, chuckling to yourself when you noticed he did the same. You crossed the tent to retrieve the wet cloth from his shaving kit, cleaning yourself up before bringing it back to where Arthur sat on your cot.

He had leaned back against the wagon, his eyes closed as he once again breathed steadily. You touched his knee, alerting him to your presence before you wiped up his spend with the rag. You whispered apologies at his grimace, still sensitive as he came down.

You tossed the rag off with the rest of your laundry and lowered yourself onto the cot. Arthur followed, pressing up against your back and swinging an arm over you. You nestled into him, shuffling to get closer while he drew up your blanket and wrapped you in its warmth.

“Feeling better?” you asked.

He tilted his head to press a kiss into your hair, humming thoughtfully as you squeezed against him.

“We can figure out what to do with Uncle in the morning, dear," you teased, closing your eyes and letting yourself give in to sleep.

“My vote is still on the lake, but I’m open to suggestions.”

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #reader insert #self insert #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #red dead redemption 2 fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #smut #nc17 #my fic

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wolferine · 3 years

Text

Unforgivable - Part 2

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: When the reader loses their temper, it causes them to commit an act they can never take back...

Warnings: Violence, blood, torture, death

Word count: 2372

Part 1

Tags: @yeetus-thyself @phoenixofash @lilclownx @yeeterthekeeper @alessiapn @diaryoflife

AN: Please read to the end before you come after me. :)

Everything is a blur. The last thing you remember is cradling Natasha in your lap and seeing the pain of betrayal in her eyes. You did this to her. You couldn’t control your anger and now she had a bullet—shot out of your gun—in her back. You hurt her and there was no way you could ever forgive yourself for that.

You finally let Tony get close enough to take care of her, because you realized you don’t deserve her anymore.

You run away from the Avengers Tower, your leg slowing you down, but you don’t care. Each step feels like a knife rubbing against your bone, but even that’s not enough to distract you from the pain in your chest. It feels like someone has torn you open, ripped your heart out of your ribcage, and thrown it into a bonfire.

But you have no one to blame than yourself.

Tears stream down your face as you stumble through the streets, eventually finding some privacy in a nearby forest. Your sobs echo through the trees as you crawl hand over hand, your uniform shredding open on bushes and branches. The trickle of a creek calls to you and you dunk your bloody hands in the freezing water, desperate to wash yourself of your failures.

You can’t believe what you’ve done.

The scene of Natasha falling to the floor plays over and over in your head and you would pay anything to unsee it. You curl into a ball, wiping your nose on your knees. You deserve all the pain and misery for your actions. You’re so caught up in your head, thinking about all the ways you can punish yourself, that you don’t notice the group of men sneaking up on you from behind.

“Over there! Over there!”

“By the creek, see?”

“Wait—that’s an Avenger?”

“Looks like someone had a bad day.”

“Hey, Y/N.”

At the sound of your name, you finally lift your head, only for the butt of a shotgun to slam into your face. Your nose breaks and blood fills your mouth. You turn away, not even interested in protecting yourself. If they killed you, you would thank them.

“Aw, come on. At least give us a reaction,” someone says.

The shotgun butt smashes against the back of your head and you wouldn’t be surprised if it cracked your skull. Someone kicks your leg where you were shot, and you bite your lip to hold back a scream.

“Well, this is anti-climactic.”

“Hey, if it makes our job easier, I’m not gonna complain.”

“I still think Hammer’s weird for wanting Y/N over the other Avengers.”

“Given the circumstances, he couldn’t really be picky—”

“Stop standing around and get to it!” someone yells.

The men surround you, punching and kicking every inch of you. The bulletproof vest of your uniform does little to lessen the impact of their blows. You feel bruises forming along your ribs and your rattling teeth bite your lips bloody. It doesn’t take long for you to black out and the peace is blissful.

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

Sometime later—you have no idea how long—you jolt awake, finding yourself strapped to a metal chair in the middle of a dark, concrete room. A man in glasses and a gray suit with white gloves stands in front of you.

“Hello, I’m Justin Hammer,” he says, offering a hand, then withdrawing when he realizes your arms are tied to the chair. “Sorry, force of habit.”

You stare at him. Your tongue pokes around the inside of your mouth and you notice some teeth are missing. There is a painful crick in your neck every time you try moving your head and every breath you take feels like a razor blade scraping the inside of your lungs.

“You’ve probably never heard of me, but I’m very familiar with you and your work with the Avengers. But the reason I have you here today is to talk about this man.” Hammer pulls out a folded photograph from his pocket and shows it to you.

It’s Tony Stark, but you have no desire to even think of that man anymore.

“Your best friend, right?” Hammer teases and you curl your lip at him. “What’s wrong? He’s the one who got you a spot on the team, isn’t he?” You look away from him. “I heard what he did to your girl,” he continues. “That must’ve felt like the betrayal of the century.”

“What?” you ask, confused as to what he’s referring to.

“I heard about what happened at the Avengers Tower. So tragic.” Hammer crumples Tony’s photograph and drops it on the floor. “Romanoff didn’t deserve that.”

“W-What are you talking about? Is she okay?” Your bottom lip quivers in fear.

Hammer kneels in front of you. “She’s dead, Y/N.”

“No, no…” You feel like he’s punched you right through the chest. “T-That’s not possible.”

“I’m sorry. I know she meant a lot to you.” Hammer stands again.

“How do you even know what happened at the Tower?” Given its security, there was no way news like that reached the public. At least not the truth of it. Maybe Hammer was just trying to mess with you.

Hammer motions behind him and a blonde woman steps forward from the shadows. Her face jolts your memory, but you don’t remember exactly where from.

“Recognize her?” Hammer asks. “She actually works for me, but she’s been pretending to be a SHIELD agent for some time now. She was right outside the door when your little spat with Stark went down.” Your mind flashes back to when you returned from the mission with Natasha. On your way to the private Avengers’ quarters, you remember passing the same blonde woman right outside the door.

“She heard everything that happened inside,” Hammer says as the blonde woman retreats into the darkness again.

“N-Natasha’s…She’s…She’s not dead,” you stammer.

Hammer shakes his head. “She went into surgery after Stark shot her, but due to the placement of the bullet, there were some complications and she coded on the table. They couldn’t revive her. That part was all over the news.”

You feel so sick you want to vomit. “I…I killed her?”

“No. You didn’t kill her. Tony Stark killed her.”

You start gasping for air, only worsening the pain in your chest. “No—But—He—I’m the one who pulled the trigger—”

“But you weren’t aiming for her. You were aiming for Stark, and he’s the one who deflected the bullet into her,” Hammer says. “He’s also the one who sent you two on that mission to begin with, wasn’t he? The reason you lost your cool and pulled your gun out? Think, Y/N. All of this is Stark’s fault.”

But the sadness of thinking you’ve killed Natasha is too overwhelming. You can’t focus on anything but your own guilt. You will burn in hell for this and you won’t even mind.

“Listen to me, Y/N!” Hammer snaps, striking you across the face. His rings cut into your cheek and blood fills your mouth. “I hate Stark just as much as you do. He’s been my business rival for years and I need someone to help me take him down. Who better than you, a former friend of his, who knows how to hit him where it hurts?”

You start crying at the thought of having to exist in a world without Natasha Romanoff.

Hammer tries getting your attention by slapping you again, but you’re unresponsive. You’re too lost in your grief to process anything he’s saying, and eventually he gives up, promising to come back another time to reveal his master plan to you.

It takes an entire month before he can even communicate with you. Your depression is all-consuming and their threats on your life have no effect. They’re startled to learn you actually enjoy the torture because you believe you deserve it after what you did to Natasha. But Hammer is relentless and finally figures out how to manipulate you into his bidding.

Six months after your capture and the accident, you finally crack. Your agony and pain turns into pure rage and hatred for Tony Stark. You can’t bring Natasha back, but you can get revenge on the man who took her life. After training with Hammer’s technology, which is almost as advanced as Tony’s, you’re deemed ready to be let out in the real world. Hammer personally asks for your help to kill Tony Stark, and it’s an offer you accept gladly.

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

Three months after the accident…

Natasha wakes up and looks to her right, disappointed to see the bed still empty. She’s tricked herself into believing that one day you’ll show up, ready to pick up the pieces and continue where you left off. But nothing has been the same since you left.

She sits up and turns the lights on. She scoots to the edge of the bed and carefully lifts her body into the wheelchair parked there.

The bullet had struck her lumbar spine, shattering her L1 vertebrae and paralyzing her from the waist down. Tony requested help from the best doctors he knew, but even the greatest modern advancements couldn’t repair her spine. He had personally designed her wheelchair, and she knows she should be grateful to still be alive, but she’s never felt so helpless and alone.

After the accident, you ran off and no one could locate you. Secretly, she held onto the hope you would return one day, but she knows your guilt and shame are keeping you away. She wants to tell you that it wasn’t your fault and that she doesn’t hate you, but you’re not even giving her that chance.

Tony made the public announcement that Black Widow had retired from the Avengers. No one knew she had been paralyzed, nor that you had unofficially resigned from the team. Without you, without Black Widow, Natasha didn’t know who she was anymore.

She leaves her bedroom and goes into the kitchen. Tony arranged most of the food and dishes down to her new height but she feels like she’ll never adjust to not being able to stand anymore. She locates a bowl and a box of cereal and rolls over to the table. She chokes down dry Cheerios and pours her second bowlful when Tony walks in.

“Thank God you’re finally up,” he says. “When you’re done, I have something to show you.”

“Y/N?” She perks up.

“Uh…no…”

Natasha knows Tony blames himself just as much as she does for her accident, but it wasn’t his fault either. She wrestled between anger and guilt, sometimes blaming you, sometimes blaming him. But in the end, it’s easier to blame herself. She should have stopped you the moment you took out your gun, regardless of whether or not you pushed her. But she got so caught up in the moment she froze, and now she was paralyzed and you were gone.

“Just come down to my workshop, okay?” Tony disappears again.

With nothing better to do, Natasha takes the elevator down to Tony’s workshop. She doesn’t visit often, but when she does, she’s always impressed by his latest inventions and gadgets. She rolls down the aisle of old Iron Man suits displayed in glass cases, admiring the subtle differences in each one.

“Where are you, Tony?” she calls.

“Over here!” He waves her down from the other end. “I’ve been working on this for a while, and I know it’s a little premature, but I couldn’t help myself.” Tony stands next to another Iron Man suit, but it doesn’t quite look like it will fit him.

The suit is curved to fit a woman, black and red instead of Tony’s iconic red and gold. Natasha sees a red hourglass emblazoned on the belt buckle.

“What…What is this, Tony?” she asks, tears in her eyes.

“It’s an Iron Widow suit,” he says. “Or, whatever you want to call it. You’ll have to get in and test it out for yourself, but it’ll allow you to walk again and…be an Avenger again.”

Natasha wishes she could throw herself into his arms, but pulls him down to her level instead. “Thank you,” she whispers, wiping her face. She never thought she would be able to serve as an Avenger again, but she’ll take the opportunity if it means taking her mind off recent events.

“Ready to try it out?” Tony presses a button on the side of the suit and the suit opens up, bending into a crouched position so Natasha can get in it like a chair.

She smiles for the first time since the accident.

“I am.”

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

Six months after the accident…

Natasha is in the gym, lifting dumbbells on a bench when Tony walks in. Although she now has a legitimate excuse for skipping leg day for the rest of her life, she now has to make sure her upper body is twice as strong to make up for it.

“Look who decided to slide through my DMs this morning,” Tony says, shoving his phone in her face.

Midnight. Central Park Carousel. Come alone.

The text was from you.

“Oh, my God,” Natasha says, setting the weights down. You haven’t even texted her since the accident, and she’s a little hurt you didn’t reach out to her first. “What’s this about?”

“I have no idea.” Tony shrugs. “I know it says for me to go alone, but since it’s from Y/N, I wanted to ask if you wanted to tag along.”

“Of course.” In a way, Natasha feels like the text is really meant for her. Central Park was where you had asked her to be your girlfriend. That couldn’t be a coincidence.

“I’ll need you to be on your A-game. We have no idea what Y/N’s been up to these past six months. I don’t know if you’re gonna like what we find,” Tony says.

Natasha has spent countless nights wondering where you’ve been and what you’re doing. Now she has the chance to find out. “It’s going to be okay, Tony,” she says.

He shakes his head. “Just so you know, I’m praying more for you than me right now.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Click here for Part 3!

AN: I never went to medical school, so forgive my medical inaccuracies.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fanfic #black widow #black widow fanfiction #marvel imagine #natasha x reader

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sankyeom · 4 years

Text

i spy with my little eye | l.jy

pairings: lee juyeon x reader (she/her/hers pronouns) genre: spy au, rivals to lovers warnings: some descriptions of fighting, injuries, explosives, and guns summary: in which the company you work for is the main rival of juyeon’s company, and you’re known for always being one step ahead of him; even when it comes to realising his feelings for you (based on this timestamp that i wrote before the stealer came out) word count: 8.3k series: sankyeom’s 2k followers celebration

masterlist

“I hope you understand how important it is that we get our hands on that file,” your boss, Mrs Kwon, explained to you after briefing you on your next mission. Your agency was the leading organisation in espionage, amassing over 30 countries. “The encryption on it is extremely advanced, so we’ll need it back undamaged so our cyber division can recover the files,” she finished, closing her tablet and glancing at you. “My understanding is that CKR have their best agents on the job as we speak.”

You nodded, “I’m familiar with them,” you told your boss, having come across the agents from CKR on several occasions, especially Juyeon. “They won’t be a problem.”

Your boss gave you a curt nod in agreement, handing her tablet off to her assistant. “You must know how important this is, Y/n. I cannot stress it enough. I chose you for this mission because you have proven yourself to be loyal and competent after the three years you’ve been here. I trust you to complete your mission well; this cannot fall into the wrong hands.”

“I understand,” you assured your boss. “I won’t give anybody the chance.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Mrs Kwon nodded. “Now, the gala is starting in six hours. I suggest you stop by costume and weaponry before you go. We wouldn’t you to stand out or be unprepared.”

You paused for a moment, thinking it over. “Maybe that’s exactly what we want…” you trailed off as you exited your boss’s office and made your way to the costume department.

You had purposefully made contact with the head of governmental cyber security multiple weeks prior to the gala. Knowing that he had the key to hacking into governmental firewalls and protections meant that you couldn’t let it slip through your fingers that night.

Mr Kim had recognised you immediately, since your stunning red outfit couldn’t be missed. You had clearly made the right decision to wear it, because Mr Kim couldn’t keep his eyes off of you the whole evening.

“Do you have eyes on the target?” Sangyeon’s voice rang through Juyeon’s earpiece. Juyeon had been undercover for the duration of the gala that evening, staying low-key in a formal but simple suit in order to blend in with the crowd. Sangyeon was surveilling from a getaway car parked nearby for a quick exit. Not only was Sangyeon the team leader, he was also their best and most efficient driver.

As subtly as possible, Juyeon placed a hand on his earpiece to reply to his team leader. “Affirmative. Exiting main ballroom through the North door,” Juyeon informed as he followed the short man who was speedily walking through the crowd; the man looked flustered and slightly tipsy, despite being the head of cyber security for the South Korean government.

“I trust you’ll secure the package and not let it slip like last time,” Juyeon could hear Kevin tease through his earpiece. He spotted Kevin sipping on champagne in the corner of the ballroom, raising his glass to him to further poke fun at Juyeon’s previous failures.

Juyeon rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry about it,” he retorted, placing his glass down on the nearest table and following the target out of the ballroom.

Before he could exit the room, somebody stood before him – dressed in a stunning red outfit that could capture attention from ten miles away – and blocked the doorway. You stood in before Juyeon, an eyebrow raised as ran your eyes down his body. Most of the time when you met him, you were both dressed in your all-black protective gear; it was a nice change to see your handsome rival in a black suit, hair styled to perfection.

“You clean up pretty good for someone who works for the second best agency in the world,” you taunted as you dragged your eyes up to meet Juyeon’s eyes.

Juyeon gulped.

He had always been attracted to you, and this had been his downfall.

The two of you worked for competing agencies and were always put on the same missions, being the best and most experienced agents at your agencies. However, nearly every time Juyeon came close to completing his mission, you already had it in the bag. You were clever, stunning, and always a step ahead of him. You also knew that Juyeon was fond of you, and you used it to your advantage whenever possible.

Juyeon couldn’t find it in him to hate you for it.

“I don’t have time for this,” Juyeon said, trying to sound as passive and bored as possible. By the smirk on your lips, he could tell you weren’t convinced, causing Juyeon to falter slightly. “I’m-“

You pulled a USB stick out of your pocket and dangled it in front of his face. Juyeon’s eyes narrowed, and he could hear Kevin and Sangyeon cursing in his earpiece. Dread filled him, overpowered only by the adrenaline he felt whenever he was in your presence.

You had beat him to it, again.

“-looking for this?” you finished his sentence, titling your head to the side to feign innocence. Then, you grinned, tucking it back into one of your pockets safely. “You should get to know your targets better,” you criticised with a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get you somewhere instead of trying to sneak up on them for the first time the night of a celebration.”

Juyeon narrowed his eyes at you, unsure of what to say. “That outfit draws too much attention, how did you manage to get it before I did?” he wondered instead.

You shrugged. “Sometimes you need the target’s attention,” you reminded him, leisurely stepping closer to Juyeon and leaning in so you lips were next to his ear. “Poor Mister Kim kept his eyes on me and made it easy to snatch this,” you patted your pocket. “Right from under his nose.”

“Abort,” Sangyeon told Juyeon through his earpiece. “Get out of there. We need to regroup for Plan B before we’re out of time.”

Seeing how worked up Juyeon was at your victory only made it more enjoyable for you. Before Juyeon could exit through the door, you bushed your lips against his cheek in an almost-kiss. “See you for round 2,” you told him with a wink, leaving Juyeon behind with his heart pounding erratically as you disappeared through the door.

“What the hell happened?” Sangyeon asked once Juyeon and Kevin were back in the car. “You told me you had eyes on him.”

“I did,” Juyeon snapped, trying his best to calm his temper. Realising how rude he sounded, he softened. “I’m sorry,” he apologised. “Y/n got to him before I even realised. She probably knew his routine by then, maybe even personally came into contact with-“

“I don’t want to hear about Y/n again,” Sangyeon interrupted, sighing. “What are you doing, Juyeon? You’re the best operative at the agency, yet the same person keeps intervening on all of your missions. It’s making you look incompetent, and our team look weak.”

“He’s doing his best,” Kevin piped up to defend Juyeon, who slumped in his seat. “I was in the room, and you had surveillance on Mr Kim the whole time. Y/n got past all of us, not just Juyeon. She’s just too good at her job.”

“You’re right,” Sangyeon allowed. “I’m sorry, Juyeon. I shouldn’t have blamed you like that.”

“It’s okay,” Juyeon mumbled. “I get it. You’re just looking out for the team.”

When they returned back to CKR headquarters, Sangyeon called for the whole team to gather so they could put Plan B into motion.

“We know where the USB is,” Sangyeon explained. “Y/n is too far from her headquarters to get there by tonight, she’ll have settled somewhere nearby and will be waiting to get transportation back tomorrow. We have to intercept them before that happens.” He decided.

“How are we supposed to do that?” Sunwoo, the intelligence analyst, wondered. He was one of the youngest members on the team, but was no less competent than the older members. “If Y/n has custody of the USB, we’re hardly going to be able to pry it out of her fingers.”

“No,” Sangyeon agrees. “She’s only going to hand it over to people that she trusts,” he added. “So, we need to become people that she trusts.”

“Pose as her team,” Jacob, one of the main intelligence operatives on the team, realised. “If she thinks that we are her transportation, she’ll have no problem handing over the USB.”

“Exactly,” Sangyeon agrees. “We need to have Chanhee run cryptography as soon possible. From what we understand, the information on the USB is timed. We only have 72 to decrypt and access it before it self-destructs and erases everything. And we need that information to be kept out of the wrong hands.”

“She’s not just going to get into any car and hand over the USB to somebody she doesn’t know,” Hyunjae pointed out from where he sat, spinning himself in circles on one of the wheeled office chairs. “I’m sure they have a system where she gets the licence plates so she knows she’s in the right car.”

“It’s a small window, but we can make it,” Sangyeon was sure. “After we know the message has been transmitted, we take down the driver and send in Juyeon to pose as her driver. She’ll recognise him as soon as she gets into the car, so we have to act fast.”

Juyeon was unsure. “I don’t know…” he trailed off, thinking. “It seems too simple,” he admitted. Juyeon had dealt with you enough to know that nothing got by you so easily.

“Simple is best sometimes,” Sangyeon retorted, crossing his arms. “If we think about this too much, or create an extravagant plan, I think Y/n’ll see it coming from a mile away.”

Juyeon nodded. “Alright, leader. I’ll trust you on this,” he decided, knowing that Sangyeon had been operating for far longer than Juyeon had.

The next night, after the sky had darkened, you packed up in your lavish suite at the hotel a few blocks down from where the event was held last night. You were staying down low so that you could get to headquarters as soon as possible. You knew that Mrs Kwon was right when she said that the information on that USB stick was incredibly important; it also had a timer on it and wouldn’t stay relevant for long. There were only around 48 hours left on the information.

After receiving a text from your usual driver saying he was a block away, you secured all of your belongings and tucked the USB into a hidden compartment of your black cargo pants. Tying your hair back, you made your way out of the room and left your key at the reception. They already knew who you were and took it wordlessly, allowing you to slip out the revolving door to wait for your car in the back alleyway.

As the familiar black SUV came rolling around the corner, you smiled and headed over to sit down in the back. “Good evening Phil,” you greeted, getting in and moving to buckle your seatbelt.

The familiar click of a gun made you freeze in place, hands on your seatbelt as you glanced up to see Juyeon sitting in the driver’s seat. “Oh, hi,” you greeted casually, as if your biggest competitor wasn’t just sitting in a car he had abducted. “Nice to see you in more casual clothes. Do you think you could step on it? I’m kind of on a time crunch, here,” you said.

Juyeon narrowed his eyes. “Stay right there,” he told you, trying not to fumble with his gun. He didn’t want to have to harm you in any way, so he hoped for his own sake that you’d be compliant.

You rolled your eyes. “How is it that I’m always one step ahead of you?” you wondered. Quick as a flash, you lifted your leg and kicked the gun out of Juyeon’s hand, taking his surprise as a chance to grab the gun for yourself and point it at him.

Juyeon cursed, freezing in place. He should have known that the threat of a gun wasn’t going to scare you; you were better trained in hand-to-hand combat anyway. “Get out of the car,” you told him in a slow voice, looking at him through narrowed eyes. Juyeon could see the hurt that lingered in them, and guilt filled his gut at the realisation that you somehow felt betrayed by him.

“Y/n,” Juyeon began, trying to convince you otherwise.

“Do as I say, Juyeon,” you replied, opening your car door and slowly following him out. You realised that the narrow alleyway behind the hotel you were staying in provided the perfect place for someone to hijack your car. “Now, what exactly do you think that you’re doing?” you wondered, motioning for Juyeon to step away from the car.

“Y/n, just listen,” Juyeon pleaded. “I know this looks bad, but I just-”

Before he could finish, a giant force threw the two of you into the air. The force of an explosive going off in your car.

Juyeon hit the ground hard, winded from the explosion and coughing as smoke and fire enveloped the black SUV. You had also been thrown to the ground, but your closer proximity to the car meant that you had suffered worse injuries than Juyeon. Both your side and wrist had hit the ground at bad angles during your fall, your head spinning as a result from the impact.

“What the hell?” you exclaimed, coughing on the ground. You had a ringing in your right ear, which had been facing the car when the blast went off, and were struggling to properly get up due to the injury your ribs had apprehended during the explosion.

Civilians had started running away from the surrounding area, terrified. “You just tried to kill me, you asshole!” you exclaimed, horrified at Juyeon’s approach of getting the USB stick from you. Explosives? Really? “What did I do ever do to you?”

“That wasn’t my explosive,” Juyeon snapped in response.

“You pointed a gun at me,” you retorted, coughing. “Why should I believe that you didn’t try to kill me?”

“We need you alive and you know it. Besides, why would I blow up a car that I was planning on driving?” he added, slowly getting to his knees and attempting to stand up.

You let out a shallow breath, realising what this meant for you.

Your boss, Mrs Kwon, had sent a car with a timed explosive in it.

To kill you.

Had Juyeon not hijacked the car, you and your usual driver Phil would have been dead on the way back to headquarters. Police sirens neared you, and you did your best to drag your feet up.

“We need to go,” you murmured, Juyeon trying to help you up as best as he could. “Now,” you added firmly, wincing as you used your non-injured hand to take Juyeon’s arm. Head spinning, you did your best to adjust to your surroundings.

“I know a place,” Juyeon suggested.

Unsure, you glanced up at him. “And why should I trust you?” you asked.

Juyeon paused, eyes softening at the sight of your injured and scratched body. He sighed, “You know why,” his eyes implying even more than his words did.

And you did know.

Ever since you and Juyeon started meeting during your assignments and missions, the attraction between the two of you was clear. Competing against one another had only added to the heightened emotions and energy between the two of you, and when Juyeon realised he had fallen for you, you were once again ahead of him.

You knew the second he was emotionally invested in his relationship with you. But someone as honest and expressive as Juyeon, almost to the point where he seemed innocent, couldn’t hide how he felt.You had never used his feelings for you against him, and you had never indicated that you felt the same either.

“Besides, what other choice do you have?” Juyeon added. “Mrs Kwon just tried to kill you,” he had also caught on. “I’m the best shot you’ve got at hiding out until it’s safe for you again.”

You weighed out your options. “Okay,” you gave in, mostly because you could barely walk on your own. And partially because your gut was telling you to trust Juyeon. “Where are we going?”

After a short argument about whether or not you would let Juyeon fireman carry you, you had won the fight and did your best to hide how badly your ribs were really injured, holding your tongue and diligently following Juyeon. You had sustained many injuries from missions in the past, and you were quite sure that your ribs were just badly bruised and not fractured.

Juyeon turned on the lights to his apartment, helping you over to his sofa. “This is my place,” he explained. It wasn’t too far from where the blast went off, and it was the only safe place Juyeon could think of letting the two of you hide out. He went into the kitchen and rifled through his drawers for his first-aid kit.

“I thought you were just going to take me to your headquarters,” you admitted. “Why didn’t you?”

Juyeon paused his search, spotting the first aid kit and pulling it out quietly. “I don’t know,” he replied, sighing. “You’re hurt and I can’t take you to the hospital because we’re spies and I’m not trying to let you bleed out or anything,” he added, kneeling in front of you and tending to your wounds. He had clearly looked after his own injuries before in the past, as you often had to do after missions, so you let him help you as the two of you sat in silence.

You had always known that Juyeon was handsome. The first time you met him, it was the first thing you noticed about him; his sharp features, small eyes and narrow nose. Something about the combination of his characteristics made him more stunning than you could comprehend.

“Stop staring at me,” Juyeon mumbled, sounding more shy than teasing under your stare. “It’s making me nervous.”

You rose an eyebrow. “I didn’t think spies got nervous,” you replied.

Juyeon paused his handiwork to meet your eyes, an eyebrow raised. “We don’t. I can disarm a bomb anytime. Get information out of the least willing witnesses. But you. You make me nervous,” he retorted. His words caused your breath to catch in your chest, eyes widening slightly at his candour.

You allowed Juyeon to finish tending to your wounds in silence, thinking better than to provoke him again. You weren’t sure what you would say if he responded to your questions like that again, so you decided to not say anything at all. When he finished, you thanked him quietly and let him wrap your torso to support the injury on your ribs. Silently, you watched him tend to his own, much milder, wounds.

“You’re very soft,” you observed as Juyeon quietly put his first-aid kit away and brought you some water. He was far more graceful than you had expected him to be. “The way you move and handle yourself. I know you’re stealthy because of your job, but your movements are very controlled and elegant.”

Juyeon took a seat next to you, handing you a glass of water. Despite everything the two of you had gone through, it felt very comfortable and natural to sit with him like that. “I used to be a dancer,” Juyeon said. You perked up at his confession. “When I was younger. It was all I wanted to do.”

“I can see you as a dancer,” you said, tilting your head slightly, as if imagining Juyeon standing on a large stage and performing. “You have that air of control about you; like you do a lot with your body,” Juyeon hummed. Feeling the need to level with him, you opened up more. “I used to want to be a magician.”

Juyeon burst out in laughter. “You’re kidding,” he accused in disbelief.

“I’m dead serious,” you swore. “I wanted to be a magician. Not a real wizard or someone with real powers, I just wanted to convince people that I could do magic,” you explained.

Juyeon perked up at your words. “A magician,” he murmured, as if trying to picture you with a top hat and a fake wand as a child. “I see that. You always have something up your sleeve whenever we’re on the same mission.” Juyeon recalled.

You smiled. “Sorry about that.”

Juyeon’s eyes shimmered with amusement. “No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not,” you agreed reluctantly. “It’s one of the few talents I have. Other than elite espionage.”

Juyeon laughed. “God, you’re good at your job,” he sighed. “How is it that you beat me every single time we have the same mission?” he wondered, giving up on trying to pretend like he didn’t know you were the better spy. “Level with me on this. Every single time.”

“I’m good at reading people,” you shrug. “After a while, I got to know how you thought and how you problem solved. Then, it just became a matter of being a step ahead of you.”

“Which you always are,” Juyeon shook his head in disbelief. “Right when I’m about to act, you’ve already finished the job.”

“Like I said, magic tricks and espionage are my only talents,” you reminded him. “It just comes easily to me. Some people are great painters. I’m great at… physical combat? Logistics? Fooling people?”

“I think you’re an overachiever,” Juyeon mentioned it so casually that you actually laughed.

“Maybe so,” you mused, a grin playing on your lips. “Or I just really like winning.”

“Now that I can agree with,” Juyeon said, nodding to himself. “Everything between you and I is a competition, and you always win.”

“Not everything between us is a competition,” you whispered.

Juyeon smiled slightly, closed-lipped and slightly forced. “I wish that were true,” he replied.

You supposed he was right. In terms of your careers as spies, most of the times you met it was due to having the same mission. This meant that a large part of what made up your relationship was the competitive drive you felt whenever the two of you were together.

Perhaps that was why you tried so hard to deny the fact that you returned his feelings for you.

You sighed. “I wish that I never knew you were a spy,” you mumbled, hugging your legs and resting your head atop of your knees, your glass of water set on the coffee table. “I wish that you and I met at,” you thought about it. “A coffee shop. Or university. Or somewhere else, I don’t know.”

Juyeon nodded in agreement, following suit and mirroring the position you were in, resting his chin on his knees. “Me too,” he agreed. “I wish that I didn’t have to hide you here. Hide you from your horrible boss Mrs Kwon, and my team…” Juyeon groaned. “My team. Oh god, I have no idea what I’m going to tell them.”

“Right,” you recalled. “This was your mission. To get information from me,” you said, the thought making you pout subconsciously. “I’m a mission.”

“You’re not a mission,” Juyeon denied. “You were a part of my mission.”

“Two hours ago, you were pointing a gun at my head,” you reminded Juyeon, raising an eyebrow. “I’m a mission, Juyeon.”

“You’re not,” Juyeon insisted. “You’re… special to me. You’re not an object or an assignment. You’re a person.”

“This is so messed up,” you buried your face in your knees, willing everything to disappear around you. “Up until this morning, you were just the guy that I flirted with during missions.”

“That’s all I was to you?”

“No,” you admitted. “But that’s all our relationship was. Now, I’m on the run from my boss, who’s trying to kill me, and you’re hiding from your team, who assigned you to basically kidnap me for intel.”

“Why do you work for her?” Juyeon wondered. “She’s dangerous, and you’re doing missions for her.”

You shook your head. “You don’t get it,” you told him. “It’s not that simple.”

“Then simplify it.”

“Drop it, Juyeon.”

“Why?” he exclaimed. “You’re putting yourself in danger for somebody who wants you dead, and you don’t want to tell me why?”

“You’re right, I don’t want to tell you why.”

“Fine,” Juyeon huffed, purposely moving his body so he wasn’t facing you head on anymore. “I just saved your life and you still don’t trust me.”

“Do you trust me?” you retaliated.

Juyeon’s silence was enough to answer that one.

“Then we’re back to square one,” you rolled your eyes, moving your legs to stand up. “How-“ you cut yourself off with a cry of pain, having forgotten how badly you injured your ribs in the car blast.

You fell back against the sofa, Juyeon leaping to his feet to help you sit back down. “Are you okay?” he asked, voice rushed as his eyes flitted across your body, searching for any visible sign of pain.

Your eyes clenched closed as your severely bruised ribs throbbed, the sharp pain slowly fading now that you weren’t moving your upper body. When you opened your eyes again, you met Juyeon’s deep brown gaze. His expression had softened when he realised you were no longer in immense pain, and his close proximity made you glance down to his thin, pink lips.

“I’d really like to kiss you,” Juyeon whispered, his breath fanning against your cheeks as he spoke. “Is that okay?” you nodded, not finding the words to reply to him; drawing him in with your eyes.

He leant forward, bracing his hands on the sofa on either side of your body, lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. His lips were warm and soft, and his touch felt familiar despite it being your first kiss with him. You exhaled a sigh through your nose, relishing in how close Juyeon was when he normally felt so out of reach from you. Pulling him closer, you threaded your fingers gently through his hair, parting your lips to deepen the kiss.

This closeness, the fact that Juyeon was within your grasp, caused warmth to blossom in your chest and stomach. For as long as you could remember, your attraction to and feelings for Juyeon had always been pushed to the back of your mind; a fantasy you would never reach. And here you were, wrapped in his embrace.

Waking up in Juyeon’s bed was heaven.

Of course, your whole body felt sore from the impact of hitting the ground after the explosion, and you still couldn’t stand up properly without it hurting due to your ribs. But still, you felt satisfied.

“Hey,” Juyeon greeted, running his fingers through your hair, eyes bleary from sleep. “You okay?” You nodded, wordlessly tracing shapes onto his t-shirt covered chest, not wanting the moment to end. “Your wounds look like they’re closing,” he mused, searching your body. “I think a shower might be due.”

After setting you up with a towel and clothes to change into, you stripped your t-shirt off – having gotten rid of your cargo pants for comfort the night before – and made your way into the bathroom to shower.

Your reflection looked awful.

You had several cuts, bruises, and lacerations on your body from the impact, and you ribs were terribly swollen after you unwrapped it, blue bruises forming across it. Wincing, you hopped into the shower and scrubbed all of the dirt and dried blood from your skin. After using Juyeon’s shampoo and body wash, your chest felt warm and cozy as his scent filled your nose.

After lying in bed for a few extra minutes, Juyeon decided to clean up a little. He made his bed and picked up your clothes from where you had carelessly dropped them in his living room the night before. He paused, feeling the cold touch of a small metallic object in one of the inner pockets.

The USB.

Juyeon hesitated, not sure what to do with it.

A part of him wanted desperately to pocket the small device, a deep desire within him begging him to finish his mission and do the right thing. He knew that the USB falling into the wrong hands would be detrimental to the safety and wellbeing of many government officials and innocent citizens.

Another part of him wanted to tuck it back into the pocket he found it in. The information on the USB could only be encrypted for a short period of time. If Juyeon did nothing, then the information would disappear in 30 hours. He would preserve the progress he made with you the night before and could make other plans to protect you from Mrs Kwon.

Juyeon didn’t realise how long he held the USB in his palm. Your footsteps snapped him out of his daydream.

“You found it,” you said, too shocked to continue towel-drying your hair. You had gotten changed into one of Juyeon’s long sleeved t-shirts, sweatpants, and socks after your shower. Had it not been for the situation at hand, Juyeon might have told you how stunning you looked in his clothes. “What are you gonna do with it?” you asked him, biting your bottom lip.

Juyeon glanced up, stepping towards you. “Nothing,” he replied, pressing the USB into your hands. He closed your fingers over it, covering your closed fist with his own hand. “I don’t need to do anything about it.”

The moment was ruined as the front door to Juyeon’s apartment was kicked down, several agents and elite spies from Mrs Kwon’s organisation making their way into the living room, guns pointed at the two of you. “Minho,” you said calmly, recognising your team leader.

Minho’s eyes had hardened as he observed the position you and Juyeon were in. “What were you thinking?” Minho asked, his voice unnervingly calm. “Why would you come here with him instead of going back to headquarters? You had a mission, Y/n.”

“She was hurt,” Juyeon defended your actions. “Her car exploded just metres away from her. I wasn’t just going to bring her back to your headquarters after your boss tried to blow her up.”

Minho watched the way you quickly pulled your hand out from under Juyeon’s, raising both of your hands in the air. Juyeon followed your actions, curious about why you were surrendering so easily.

“This is interesting,” Minho mused. “Is this why you keep failing your missions?” he asked Juyeon, tilting his head and mocking him with his words.

“What are you talking about?” Juyeon asked, narrowing his eyes.

“You’re purposefully failing so that Y/n can succeed?” Minho said it in a teasing tone, as if he was revealing Juyeon’s crush during recess in the playground.

“No,” Juyeon denied. “That’s not true and you know it.”

“She can’t be that good of a spy,” Minho retorted. “She’s beat you out on seventy eight missions over four years.” You remained silent, unsure of what to say with so many guns pointed in your direction. “How long have you been together for?”

“Stop it,” you interrupted. “Are you going to fight me, Minho?” you asked.

Minho had been your team leader for almost three years. You had each other’s backs, and the fact that he and the rest of the spies from your organisation were pointing guns at you didn’t sit so well with you.

“I might,” Minho admitted. “If you don’t hand over the USB.”

“I can’t do that,” you said. “Mrs Kwon tried to kill me for this, I’m afraid I won’t just let go of it so easily,” you admitted.

“Please,” Minho rolled his eyes. “That car blew up after your little boyfriend stole it from Phil. He clearly planted it. Why would Mrs Kwon put an explosive in your car? You’re her best agent, and she wants those files,” he recalled. “Forgive me if I just don’t buy it, Y/n.”

“Okay,” you shrugged. “I forgive you.”

You turned, nodding at Juyeon and balanced your weight across your feet before you leapt at Minho, swinging your arm in a punch. Juyeon followed suit, turning to kick the guns out of your colleague’s hands and ducking under their jabs. You took on Minho alone, since he was the team leader and the most experienced spy on the team other than yourself.

Usually when you fought with Minho, it was sparring during training; honing in your skills and building each other up. Now, you were fighting to get away from somebody you used to consider close to a friend. “You sold out,” you accused Minho, kicking his gun away from where he had dropped it during your fight.

“So what if I did?” Minho replied, raising an eyebrow. “You think you’re always a step ahead of everyone, but this time, I was,” he added, striking you in your torso. You yelped, falling to the ground as the pain in your already injured ribs intensified. “Any more tricks up your sleeve? Or just a fractured rib?”

“Asshole,” you exclaimed, biting your tongue to suppress more shouts of pain. You struggled to fend off Minho’s advances. He was larger, stronger, and in better condition than you were. Even when the two of you sparred during training, you could only ever win against Minho if you outsmarted him somehow.

Getting to your feet, you tucked your hair behind your ears and squared your shoulders. Minho approached you, diving with his hands stretched towards your torso; by that point, he had realised that you were injured and had a weak spot. You blocked it easily, using the momentum of Minho’s slight stumble to aim your fist at his jaw. Minho exclaimed in pain, falling to the ground and holding his jaw.

You risked a moment to look at Juyeon, who was easily taking on two men at once. The swift and calculated manner Juyeon moved in reminded you of how he said he wanted to be a dancer when he was younger. This, you could easily believe after seeing him in action.

You struck Minho further while he was disoriented from your hit to his jaw, not letting the gruelling pain in your ribs stop you from doing your best to defend yourself. Minho pushed you against the wall, both of your actions getting sloppier from the injuries you were both sustaining.

“Enough,” you exclaimed, taking the USB from where you stashed it in your pocket and holding it out of the open window. Juyeon and Minho audibly cursed, everyone stilling at your bold choice. “One more step, and I drop it,” you warned, the sound of the traffic outside reminding everyone that a car would immediately drive over the USB if you dropped it.

“Y/n,” Juyeon said slowly. “Are you sure you want to do that?”

“Listen to your boyfriend,” Minho agreed. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

“Regret?” you echoed. “I almost got blown up because I had this. You think I’ll miss this thing when it’s gone? The only person who loses out would be you,” you told Minho. “This is your recovery mission.”

“Juyeon!” a shout came from the hallway leading up to his apartment. You turned, seeing Sangyeon, Kevin, Jacob, and Haknyeon rush into Juyeon’s apartment. They seemed to have realised where Juyeon was soon after Mrs Kwon’s team had, and were shocked at the scene in front of them. “Are you hurt?” Sangyeon asked, causing Juyeon to shake his head.

“The rest of your boyfriend’s team is here,” Minho drawled. “So, what’s it going to be, Y/n? Are you going to hand it over to me, or him?”

“Why do I need to hand it over to anyone?” you retorted. You had kicked Minho’s weapons out of his reach, and now that Sangyeon and his team were there, Minho was outnumbered. He wasn’t likely to try anything stupid. “What are you going to do? You can’t win this one, Minho.”

Juyeon watched with bated breath as you opened your palm, dropping the USB from the twenty-fourth floor of his apartment building. Sangyeon and Minho gave angry shouts at your action and you stepped away from the window, opening both of your hands to show your empty palms.

Minho moved forward, his fist colliding with the side of your face. You fell to the floor, Juyeon yelling as he ran towards Minho. Sangyeon held him back, stopping him from doing anything he might regret. “I’ll deal with you later,” Sangyeon told him. Juyeon startled; Sangyeon had never looked at Juyeon with so much disappointment before.

Your chest heaved with deep inhales as you tried to catch your breath, propping yourself up using the wall behind you. “And what about you?” you asked Minho, raising an eyebrow; challenging him. “Are you really going to go to Mrs Kwon empty-handed? The USB is gone. About ten cars have crushed it into the road by now. She’s not going to want me, dead or alive. She’s going to want the team leader that let her precious files slip through his fingers.”

Knowing you were right, and seeing how Sangyeon and his team had outnumbered him, Minho glared at you before fleeing from the scene, most likely going to hide from Mrs Kwon and her resources. Sangyeon didn’t stop him; Minho was of no interest to him now that he didn’t have the USB, and he was from a different organisation. Elite spies aren’t a part of law enforcement; he wasn’t going to chase after Minho like a police officer would.

“You don’t know what you’ve just done,” Sangyeon accused you, seething with anger. “You’re protecting Mrs Kwon under the facade that you don’t care what happens to the information on that USB.”

“I can’t believe you did that,” Juyeon added quietly. “You were almost killed for that, twice. Don’t you think we could have used what’s on there?”

You nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It’s a good thing I always have,” you pulled the USB out from under the sleeve of Juyeon’s long-sleeved t-shirt that you were wearing, an ode to the many magic tricks you learned as a kid when you dreamed of being a magician. “A trick up my sleeve.”

“We can trust Y/n,” Juyeon insisted, rushing after Sangyeon and Kevin as they led you out of his apartment complex to their SUV. “She hasn’t done anything wrong. Mrs Kwon tried to kill her!”

“Except she has done things wrong,” Sangyeon retorted. “Y/n’s boss is corrupt, Juyeon,” he informed. “Mrs Kwon has been giving government and civilian security details to the highest bidder. That’s the reason her company is the best in the world. They sell private information for profit, and hundreds of people have died for it.”

Juyeon felt his heart drop to his stomach at Sangyeon’s confession. “That’s her boss, not her,” he tried to defend you as best as he could. “It’s a job, Sangyeon.”

“Elite espionage doesn’t exist for the rich to play games with innocent people for money,” Sangyeon snapped. “Our organisations exist so that we can protect people and put away bad guys.”

“I agree,” you voiced, causing Sangyeon’s eyes to meet yours as you neared the car. Despite his harsh gaze, you weren’t intimidated by him. You had nothing to hide or be ashamed of. “Believe me, that’s why I took this job.”

Sangyeon studied your expression, trying to find a hint that you were lying or deceiving him. Then, he held his hand out to you. “I’ll take that USB,” he said. You gave it to him, seeing no point in trying to keep it from him at that point. Minho and the other spies from Mrs Kwon’s agency were long gone, and Sangyeon and his team wouldn’t be able to crack the code without you anyway. “Get in,” Sangyeon told Juyeon. “We’re going to headquarters.”

If Sangyeon wanted to take you to CKR, you had no reason to fight him.

“What’s the status?” Sangyeon asked Chanhee, who had been working on decrypting the files on the USB for over an hour.

You and Juyeon had been driven to CKR headquarters in seperate cars. Kevin did his best to be kind to you, but you remained silent and allowed him to lead you to a simple room with a one-way mirror in it.

Juyeon had debriefed the team on exactly what had happened when he tried to bring you to headquarters the night before. Sangyeon remained unimpressed that Juyeon hadn’t immediately brought you to them, and scolded him for taking away an extra 15 hours of time they could have used to decrypt the files and question your organisation’s best spy.

“There’s over 200 digits in the password,” Chanhee explained, still typing out potential passwords onto the laptop in a blank document. “There’s only three chances before the files self-destruct. I already used one of our chances, and I don’t want to try again until I get a better idea of what it could be,” he said, lush lips stuck in a concentrated pout. “It would help if I knew anything about Mr Kim, but he seems to be a pretty elusive man. Does’t have much of an online presence, which makes sense since he’s in charge of cybersecurity.”

Sangyeon sighed, rubbing his forehead as if he had a headache was coming on. “If Mrs Kwon was willing to kill Y/n to keep this information out of her hands, we need to get to it,” he said.

“What’s on it?” Eric wondered from his place on the sofa, playing a game on his phone.

“I don’t know,” Sangyeon shook his head at the youngest. “Boss won’t say.”

“Maybe we should ask Y/n,” Kevin suggested. “If Mrs Kwon wanted to keep it out of her hands specifically, maybe she thought that Y/n could crack the code?”

Sangyeon had already thought of this option, but he didn’t want to have to bring you in. “She works for that awful lady,” he reminded his team. “I don’t trust her.”

Juyeon frowned. “What’s she ever done to make you distrust her?” he wondered. “Other than the fact that she works for an organisation that we think is corrupt? Most of the missions she was on were ones that you sent me on, too. That means that she’s been doing a lot of good during her career in espionage,” he pointed out.

“Bring her in,” Sangyeon decided, sending both Jacob and Kevin in to collect you. You soon appeared, wincing as you limped your way over to the team leader. Your bruised ribs had probably become fractured from your fight with Minho, and any other contusions you had sustained from the fight were starting to bruise a deep purple. Juyeon wanted nothing more than to rush over to you, but he figured this would be the wrong move.

“Can you solve this?” Sangyeon asked you, pointing at the screen.

You shrugged. “I can’t be sure,” you admitted. “But I have a pretty good hunch.”

“Which is?”

“I got to know Mr Kim personally before the event two nights ago,” you explained. “Before he started his career in cybersecurity, he was a chemistry major at Yonsei University for his undergraduate degree. He used to go on and on about how he had to memorise all these different formulas and numbers to pass his exams,” you recalled. “But there was one thing he was particularly proud of, something that none of his classmates could do.”

“Don’t tell me it’s the first 300 digits of Pi,” Chanhee said, frowning. “Because that would be so boring. I could do that when I was eleven.”

You shook your head. “He can recite the atomic numbers of every element on the periodic table,” you told the cryptologist. “In order.”

“Pull up a picture of the periodic table,” Sangyeon ordered to Sunwoo, who quickly complied and pulled it up to the large screen in the centre of the room. “Chanhee?”

“On it,” he mumbled, already typing in the numbers in order. When he was done, he stared at the screen in surprise. “The number of digits perfectly fits,” Chanhee told his team leader. “Do you want me to enter it?”

Sangyeon glanced over at you. “I don’t suppose you made up an elaborate lie that just so happened to work in your favour?”

You shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time I had that kind of a trick up my sleeve,” you admitted. “But no. I’m not lying.”

Sangyeon’s brows furrowed together. “Alright,” he agreed. “If Juyeon trusts you, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt this once. And we always have one more try, then I’ll know for sure if you were lying.”

Sangyeon gave Chanhee the okay to give in the password. Chanhee tapped on the enter key, a grin forming on his lips as he started typing frantically. “I’m in,” he said, causing cheers to burst out around the room.

The boss of the CKR spy agency entered the room, pleased to see the success that Sangyeon’s team had during their mission. “That sounds like good news,” he said, causing all the members of the team to bow in greeting of their boss.

“Yes, sir,” Sangyeon confirmed. “We just got into through the encryption with 28 hours to spare.”

“That’s wonderful work,” their boss complimented, smiling at them all.

“Y/n provided important details about Mr Kim’s life that helped us,” Sangyeon added, surprising you. “Without her help, we wouldn’t have been able to figure it out.”

“Excellent work, Y/n,” the CKR boss complimented, reaching over to shake your hand.

You beamed. “Happy to help, sir,” you told him cheerily. “After all, it is my job,” you reminded him with a wink.

The room went silent as Sangyeon’s team stared at you in shock. “I knew I made the right choice trusting you,” the CKR boss told you, looking proud. “There aren’t many people that can outsmart Juyeon on his missions, as well as work undercover long enough to deeply infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation.”

“Did you just say work undercover?” Juyeon wondered, voicing everyone’s thoughts.

“Yes,” his boss admitted. “I hired Y/n five years ago to infiltrate Mrs Kwon’s organisation and expose her corruption. That’s why these files are so important,” he explained.

“Oh my god,” Chanhee muttered, flicking through the files on the USB. “This traces Mrs Kwon’s online presence, dating back over three years. It’s incriminating information against Mrs Kwon’s organisation; she can be sent to jail for the evidence on here.”

“That’s why she tried to kill you,” Juyeon realised, addressing his words to you. “Because Mr Kim uncovered her online footprints.”

“I told you it wasn’t so simple,” you reminded him, giving him your best smile. Juyeon beamed. He often wondered if he was naïve for trusting you, but you had proved to him that you were worth the risk. A double agent. Somehow, Juyeon felt incredibly proud of you.

“Thank you for your hard work, Y/n,” CKR’s boss thanked you. “And now that we have what we need on Mrs Kwon, I’d love for you to continue working here for my most elite team,” he invited you.

“That’s us!” Eric exclaimed happily, now solving a Rubik’s cube upside down.

“As long as they’ll have me, I’d love to,” you told your boss.

Everyone glanced over at Sangyeon, who had the final say on any new members as the team leader. After seeing your skillset that day, everyone on the team was excited to work with you. You had something to offer in almost any area they specialised in. Plus, you were a fairly famous spy amongst the different agency; known as the best of the best. Sangyeon seemed to be struggling to comprehend the situation, having gone through a pretty confusing day.

“So you’re been working for CKR all this time?” he asked. You nodded. “And you’ve been gathering information on Mrs Kwon to use against her with Mr Kim from cybersecurity?” Another nod. “And you really did outsmart Juyeon on all of his missions?”

“I’m afraid so,” you confirmed.

Sangyeon seemed stunned. “Then I think you’d make a good addition to the team,” he agreed. Kevin and Eric cheered, excited that someone as well-known in the spy community as you would be a part of their team. You were infamous around CKR for always outsmarting their best team, and it turns out that you were CKR’s best asset all along. Your boss said his farewells, allowing you to get to know your new team better.

“I can’t believe all of this,” Juyeon breathed out in surprise, helping you onto one of the sofas in the back of the room, careful of your injured ribs. “You’re…”

“A double agent?” you filled in for him.

“…Even more amazing than I thought,” Juyeon finished his train of thought. You grinned, letting Juyeon press a kiss to your cheek and hug you. “And always a step ahead of me, it seems,” he kissed you gently.

“That’s going to take some getting used to,” Younghoon mumbled, wincing at the sight of you and Juyeon kissing.

“My little magician,” Juyeon sighed happily against your lips, pulling away to beam at you. His eyes, tired and worn out from the last two days, glimmered with excitement. “This is so much better than competing against you.”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his shoulder and hugging him tightly, wincing slightly at the impact on your ribs. “Who says we’re going to stop competing?”

note: here is the long anticipated full version of my spy!juyeon timestamp!! i hope you guys enjoyed it! it wasn’t super romantic like the other ones but i hope i capture the spy juyeon concept i was going for well :)

#the boyz #the boyz imagines #juyeon #juyeon imagines #juyeon x reader #the boyz x reader #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #tbznetwork #lee juyeon #the boyz drabbles #fic: i spy with my little eye #2k celebration #deobiwritersnet

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

Text

You're My Home Too | Loki Laufeyson

Hey lovelies happy Saturday! I hope you all have had a lovely day! Here is the first Loki "drabble" of the event, please do enjoy and make sure to take care of yourselves today!

Appetizers (Tags): Angst, Fluff

Entres (Pairing): Loki x F!Reader (third person)

Sides (Prompts): 6: “You’re all I have.” “You’re all I have too, you know?”

Notes: None, Requested by Anon

Word Count: 2.2k

Dinner at Dizzy’s Master List

She watches as the black haired god tilts his head, eyes locked on his brother. It looks like he’s nodding along, agreeing to something Thor has said, but she can see it— the way his pupils dart across the blonde’s face, flitting over his shoulder before returning, latching on a different spot. It’s unnerving to watch him be so docile. So passive— not at all like the usual, fiery tempered, grinning god of mischief. She’s never seen him look so blank. Something’s definitely wrong.

She has a feeling she knows what it is, too. If she’s right then it’s the same reason she laid awake all night, curled on her side of Loki’s bed, listening to the sound of his steady breathing until the sun came up. She can practically hear the conversation— Thor’s been itching to go home for weeks now. Somehow they’ve always managed to get held up each time— saving the world and what not. Now, though, there’s nothing keeping them. No androids or aliens or wizards. Just her— the best friend— and that’s not going to cut it.

Loki’s eyes flick to hers, blue irises somehow vibrant even from across the room, and she forces the corners of her lips to turn up, an attempt at flaking off the frown that she’s sure has been plastered on her face all morning. If his frown is anything to go by, however, then she would say that it doesn’t work out. Oh well— she didn’t really expect it would.

He can sense lies and even if he couldn’t he would still be able to read her like a book. Half the time it feels like he’s more in her head then she is, always figuring out what she wants before she can think it let alone say it aloud. Usually that’s followed by him dropping whatever he’s doing to get it for her. Unless, of course, it’s a hug— then he’s dropping whatever he’s doing and pulling her into his arms.

Who’s going to hug her if he’s a galaxy away?

Is it even a galaxy? Surely it’s more. A dimension away. Her stomach tosses, the sting in her chest mixing with a wave of the nausea she’s been fighting all morning. A combination of not eating— not being hungry enough to eat— and sadness. No not sadness— grief. Sadness feels easier. It’s waving your best friend off to college— not to another fucking world. This isn’t sadness— this is losing everything she has come to need for an entire year. Warmth and protection and his sea-salt skin and elegant voice. Who else is going to speak so gently to her when he’s gone?

“Dove—” she blinks and he’s suddenly there, kneeling on the floor in front of the couch where she's been sitting for the past hour, legs curled under her and all the way numb— “what’s wrong?”

His dark brows crease together, his hand snaking from his side and reaching for hers. She offers him another pathetic half-smile, tangling her fingers with his long ones and shaking her head slightly. “Nothing, Loki. How’d your talk go?”

She doesn’t miss the way he winces. He tries to hide it, replicating her tilted lips with his own, but, like her, his eyes don’t follow suit. Instead they flash with something that looks too much like dread for her to keep her act up. When her mouth creases into a frown, so does his. It’s all she needs to know— he really is leaving her.

“My brother misses home.” The god reaches out his other hand and— like everything they seem to do— she copies him, meeting him halfway and lacing those fingers together as well. He runs his thumb over hers, his blue eyes intense— worried. “There are a few things we have to sort out. They’re getting impatient.”

They’re. That could mean so many things. It could mean his people— the asgardians. It could mean his family— it definitely means Thor, the god who she can hear pacing from the kitchen. Her eyes pool over the features of the man in front of her, landing on the circles under his eyes. Does it mean him too? Has she been keeping him from going home? The thought makes her throat sting— of course she has. She’s been so stupid, clinging to a literal god. Of course he would have to go home at some point. She was only fooling herself thinking he would stay with her. What’s upstate New York when you have a celestial castle or whatever the hell it is he has?

“Dove?”

She blinks again, zoning back into his even more concerned stare— shit.

“Sorry,” she mumbles, squeezing his hands if only to ground herself against slipping away again. “That sounds important. Your, uh, your kingdom needs you.”

I need you too, though.

It feels like her heart is lodged in her throat and that she’s speaking around it. When she swallows it doesn’t go away— if anything it grows, tears stinging at her eyes, threatening to fall. She hates how selfish she feels. He doesn’t belong to her— he doesn’t belong with her— and she should feel lucky to have called him her friend for this long. Still she can’t help but wonder what her days will look like without him. Empty. Boring. Terrifying. She has friends here but it isn’t the same. The connection isn’t the same— the warmth and smiles and laughter aren’t the same.

She isn’t just losing her best friend, she’s losing her home.

And she breaks.

And he notices.

God, he always notices.

She supposes with the tears now streaming down her face, though, that she can’t exactly blame him for that one. It’s a little noticeable. What she will blame him for is how he releases her hands, instead rising to his full height and settling on the couch, angling his lithe body towards her and wrapping his arms around her stomach. He waits— one beat, two beats— for her to turn as well, pushing up on her knees and throwing her arms around his shoulders. She holds him tight— tighter than she can confidently say she has ever held him before. She has to— it’ll very likely be the last chance she gets. She has to memorize it— him.

“I’m sorry,” she laughs bitterly. It’s more of a sob— the kind that catches in her throat, getting stuck between silent and booming. “I’m being silly.”

Loki shakes his head— she can’t see it but she can feel his jaw brushing her hair, his hands pushing her closer to his chest. She digs her fingers into his jumper, scrunching the green wool like somehow it’ll make this all okay. His hand runs up her back, curling it around the nape of her neck, hand cool and soft.

“No you aren’t.” He murmurs, face still pressed against her hair, and she fights back more tears— he’s too gentle with her.

She doesn’t say anything right away, she just sinks against him, biting her lip and forcing herself to just be in the moment. He smells like rain today. It’s always different— always changing— but today he smells like the summer pavement before a three day thunderstorm hits and it feels fitting.

After a few moments she finally pulls away, tugging against his hold and running the heel of her hand under her eyes. He doesn’t give her much leave, only a few inches to be able to look up at him, blinking away the blurriness of her glassy eyes and sniffling. His lips are pressed together, his head tilted again. Unlike with his brother, though, his eyes never stray from hers. As always, it makes her breath catch in her throat, her heart racing in the way only he can seem to do.

She finally brings herself to ask the hard question— the one that’s been hanging around them for weeks. “When are you leaving?”

His fingers on her spine tense— that can’t mean anything good.

“Today, dove.”

“Oh.”

She doesn’t know what else to say— that and if she says anything more she’s afraid she might start sobbing again. Sobbing or just stop breathing altogether. Today? She couldn’t have had one more night with him? You’ve already had ‘one more night’ for four weeks, the little voice in her head reminds her. It’s time to let him go. She slips her hands around his arms— easier said than done. She knows that once he leaves her life will change— and it might never go back to normal.

Loki’s eyes flash, the blue darkening, a crease forming between his brows. He opens his mouth but no words come out and soon he’s pressing his lips together again, the dejection in his eyes and aura tangible. She has to say something— she can’t leave it on this note. She just has no idea what to say. No idea how to say goodbye.

So she doesn’t.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?” She pushes her lips into the tortured smile again, muttering the words.

She’s sure he would have forced himself to laugh—

“I want you to come with me.”

— were it not for him speaking at the same time.

Her heart stops when his words flit past her eardrums. “What?”

She must be dreaming— there’s no way he just said what she thinks he said. It has to be her imagination playing a cruel trick on her. Trying to protect her from the pain until the last second. But no, that’s not right, now when his cool hands move from her back to her cheeks, his thumbs running over her cheekbones and drawing her back to him. He leans down, pressing his forehead against hers and she gasps— she can’t help it. His skin is so soft that her eyes flutter close.

“I said I want you to come home with me, dove.” His nose brushes against hers, his words entirely soft.

She’s speechless— completely and utterly floored. “To Asgard?”

He chuckles, minty breath fanning her lips. “Yes, to Asgard.”

She pulls back, head so fuzzy she almost topples over from the motion, hands curling tighter to keep from falling. He really wants her to go home with him? Just like that her heart starts beating again, kicking starting her pulse which begins hammering as the notion of staying with him starts to become clear. He’s not leaving?

“But—” she stammers, blinking rapidly as she tries to form a coherent thought— “why me?”

For a moment he just looks at her, his brows knitting together once more, his eyes filling with something she can’t decipher. He kind of looks confused. Only she could confuse a god. She almost slaps herself, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Why the heck would you ask him that you idiot? Now he’s not gonna’ want to take you with—

“Because you’re all I have.”

He says it so nonchalantly— like it’s a fact and not a confession that makes her very essence roar. She supposes that to him it is just a fact. That when you’re all powerful speaking your mind is normal. It is just a fact and she is just a girl and he is just a god. Fact, fact, facts. Her head spins. This— he— cannot be real.

“I—” That’s as far as she gets before her sentence drops, mouth gaping but empty.

Thankfully he picks it up, continuing his unconcerned profession.

“It’s not home if you’re not with me, my little midgardian. Not anymore.” He shrugs and she almost chokes— how is he saying this so calmly when she feels like she’s going to combust? “I really think you’d like it, actually. It’s very pretty— lots of gardens. Oh, and the library! You would enjoy the library.” He tilts his head, his eyes fading out slightly as he thinks about his home. “I’m sure there will be a ball of some sort when we arrive home. I know, I know— you don’t like big events but—”

This time she’s the one who places her hands on his cheeks, shaking her head, letting the first euphoric giggle out. “Of course I’ll go, Loki.”

A grin spreads across his lips, his eyes widening like he just won the lottery as he leans forward, connecting them once again. It makes her heart jump in her chest. What did he think she was going to say? No? She giggles when his lips press against her cheek, her nose scrunching. He must notice because his mouth curves even more against her skin. Soon his lips aren’t just on her cheek but on her forehead and chin and nose as well.

“Even if we have to go to a ball?” He teases, his voice lighter than she’s heard it in weeks.

“Even then.” She confirms, fingers gliding into his hair and tangling them in the silky strands. She takes a deep breath, nerves thrumming as she adds softly. “You’re all I have too, you know? You’re my home too.”

Loki hums happily against her skin, taking her own confession the same way he had made his own— easily. It’s the best outcome she could have hoped for. She can’t wipe the wide smile from her lips as he wraps his arms properly around her once more. It’s not long before his lips find her ear, soft words echoing against her skin.

“You should probably start packing then, yeah?”

#Loki #Loki Laufeyson #Loki x reader #Loki x y/n #Loki Laufeyson x reader #Loki Laufeyson x y/n #Loki fic #Loki imagine #Loki Laufeyson fic #Loki Laufeyson imagine #Loki fluff #mcu #mcu fic #marvel cinematic universe #Dinner at Dizzy's

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hyunjilicious · 4 years

Text

that night [harry styles]

A best friends to something else type of story. Exactly 7.8k (literally 7800 words which is scary) and you know I can’t write that much without SMUT. This takes place during a sleepover at the end of quarantine! Maybe tell me what you thought? :) (I promise I’ll edit this soon!)

“Show me yer phone, love” Harry groaned, sending you the coldest of death stares. The night started off as usual, you two just watching some old documentaries, paying more or less attention to them as you mostly just sat and talked. Things took a turn when your phone started blowing up with messages. Being the kind of person who always replies in an instant, suspicions arose when you decided to completely ignore the texts. Although Harry never violated your privacy and never pushed you for answers you didn’t want to give, when you started laughing and got nervous about whoever it was that kept texting you, he figured it would be worth it to push your buttons.

“I said no” you repeated yourself, standing up from the couch. There were two main reasons you didn’t want to talk about the person texting you, and these 2 reasons were also probably the only two things in the world you wouldn’t want to discuss with him.

“Why no’?” he asked offended, following you into the kitchen, like a small child begging his parents to let him have his way, “What can be tha’ bad? I wouldn’t have asked any questions if yeh hadn’t been so off about it from the start”

You turned and looked at him dead in the eye, contemplating what to say next. He beat you to it.

“Is it a guy? Have you been seein’ someone?” Harry asked as he walked over to you, completely ignoring your personal space. “Is tha’ it? I don’t wanna read yeh texts, just tell me yes or no, and I’ll drop it. Promise”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s a guy” you said calmly, “But we’re not seeing each other”

“Then why does he keep texting yeh like crazy?”

“Crazy…” you sighed, tapping your chin, “Good description”

“Come on, Y/n” Harry whined, tapping your shoulder as he walked past you and towards the refrigerator, “Just tell me, I’m really curious, crazy how?”

“Promise you’re not gonna freak out?” you laughed, grabbing whatever he was pulling out of the fridge and handing to you. You stopped paying attention after three cups of pudding and one bottle of wine.

“When have I ever freaked out?” he joked, mocking himself. He was usually a calm person, more composed than anyone you’ve ever met, and he less than rarely got angry. And from those times when he did lose his temper, 90% of cases were mild and he was still calmer than anyone else in that kind of situation, but that 10% left was pure terror. When his friends told you years ago that nothing’s scarier than Harry when he was truly mad, you didn’t quite believe them. You had to see for yourself to accept it. It only happened a few times in almost 5 years, but you always still did everything you could to keep him from going off again.

“Ok, so” you started speaking as you rummaged around your kitchen for bowls and glasses, “His name is Marcus and we actually met on Tinder-”

“Wait a second” he cut you off, “During the lock down?”

“Oh, no. It happened before all of this madness. Around january, I think”

It was obvious he was already bothered by how this conversation started, but he did his best to control himself so you wouldn’t decide to drop it. “Pretty serious, then, huh?” he said eventually.

“Literally the opposite” you laughed, pouring the pudding into the bowl, “We saw each other once-” and it hurt you to say the following part but you did it nonetheless, “hooked up, and didn’t talk since”

Pure annoyance was readable on his features. “Apparently haven’t talked until now?”

“Yeah, I mean-” you cringed, “He texted me like a week or so ago and we didn’t - vibe, and he got weird, so like I muted the conversation for 7 days because I didn’t want him to bother me anymore but he got so defensive it was funny so I didn’t really wanna block him”

“Yeh muted the guy a week ago and he still keeps trying?” Harry asked, completely taken aback, “Can’t blame him, but still, tha’s a bit much”

“It is” you nodded in agreement, and motioned for him to open the bottle of wine for you.

“He must have liked yeh a lot” he mumbled, twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, “Maybe you two had a really great time, and he-”

“Harry” you stopped him, leaning your head to the side, “I know you’re squeezing information out of me right now, but I honestly don’t think you want to hear more of this”

“Ok” he sighed defeated, “I’m gonna stop pushin’ yeh. Thanks for tellin’ me tho. And sorry if I crossed any lines''

“You haven’t, H” you smiled, giving him a hug from behind. “It’s fine”

After gathering everything you had fixed up to take into the living room, the pudding and the wine, as you passed the threshold of the kitchen, you heard Harry speak up, traces of amusement audible in his voice. “But like… At least was the sex good?”

“You want me to answer that?” you chuckled, plopping down on the couch. “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Yeah” Harry shrugged, smiling innocently.

“It was horrible” you said bluntly and watched his grin wilt away. “Probably the worst sex I’ve ever had. No, no, no.. Definitely the worst sex I have ever had in my entire life”

His mouth fell agape. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, i got to his house… And you know, up until then everything was fine, like he seemed like a completely normal and fun guy while we texted but like, as soon as i got to his place he became really… I don’t even know how to put it, he was um.. Very clingy and weird and we talked for a bit but then when we went to his room he turned into literally the biggest asshole I met”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, “Tha’s not wha’ I expected”

“Exactly!” you laughed, “Neither did I!”

“Then wha’ happened?”

“I went down on him and he didn’t do the same because apparently he finds that gross? That’s what he told me but I didn’t wanna get into it because I went there to get dick so I was like let’s just fuck, and we did… We made out a bit, got him worked up again, and when we fucked I literally thought something was wrong with me, because he just.. I don’t know. Bumped into me and after he finished I was there like… What just happened?”

“Yeh were right when yeh said I didn’t wanna hear this”

“Told you” you giggled, grabbing your pudding and toying with your teaspoon.

“Jus’ stop using Tinder, please” Harry eventually shook his head.

“A girl has needs, ok?”

He was enraged and completely ignored your words, “And wha’ does he want from yeh now? He really thinks yeh’d see him again? Really?”

“I don’t even know what he’s been saying, honestly” you shrugged.

“Can I see?”

“Can you like, read from the notification box? I don’t wanna leave him on seen”

Harry nodded in agreement and you gave him your phone. He pressed the lock button, the screen lit up, and it was instantly flooded with texts from him. Since you put the conversation on mute a week ago, you had no idea what he had been saying. It seemed that he didn’t appreciate your lack of interest and that he didn’t bother to hold back.

‘You pathetic whore, u really think ur gonna find someone better than me? U think ur so high and mighty and hot but ur gonna die alone you bitch. Do u feel better about yourself if u juts ignore my texts???? Well good for fucking u-’ and Harry locked the phone, the screen going black.

“The fuck did I just read?” he questioned, his annoyance from earlier, now morphing into pure anger.

“You said you wanted to read” you shook your head.

“Why does he think he can talk to yeh like that?”

“I don’t honestly care” you sighed, “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again, so he can go and say anything he wants”

“‘S not how that works, darlin’” he said.

"Can we drop this, please" you sighed, unable to quite look in his direction, "I don't like this"

"Well-" Harry erupted and judging by the way his voice instantly died down, you could tell he almost lost control, "I don't fucking like it either, ok? But yeh shouldn't jus' accept tha'!"

"I wouldn't call it acceptance, H" you shook your head, discarding your bowl of pudding and jumping straight to the bottle of wine. "I told him I'm not interested, and I stopped replying. It's not acceptance... he just keeps trying"

"But for some reason yeh're letting him talk t' yeh like tha'"

"Well-" you shrugged, and took a big gulp of red wine, "He talks by himself"

"Y/n…" Harry called, his voice soft and you could tell that there was anger hidden somewhere deep inside, but you still appreciated the fact that he managed to keep it contained. He extended his arm, his fingers brushing against the side of your thigh. It was a soft, delicate touch, that made every hair on your body stand up. He did it to get your attention and boy, did it work. Instantly, your eyes snapped to his, and were met with something you did not see coming. "Can I say something?" he asked cautiously, his eyes shining with genuine worry.

"You're making this into something much more significant than it actually is"

"I'll drop it" he eventually nodded, "If you promise me something"

"What?"

"If anythin' similar to this happens again, tell me"

"And what are you gonna do about it?" you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. As you kept staring into his green eyes, you brought the wine bottle up to your lips, took a long sip, and then handed it to him.

He took the bottle out of your hands, seemingly not giving more than two shits about it. The warmth in his eyes accentuated as his eyebrows gathered into a concerned furrow, "Make sure it doesn't get to yeh"

"It doesn't" you smiled.

"Lemme make sure"

"Ok, Harry" you laughed, "I promise you that the next time a guy from Tinder gets mad about me not reciprocating the feeling, and he starts sending me that kind of texts, I will tell you"

The sarcasm just flowed out of you, and he was not impressed.

"I meant in general, love"

"Any guy?" you taunted, "Not just from tinder?"

"Fucking put on tha’ movie" he shook his head, "I know yeh too well. Won't get anywhere until you get some wine in tha’ belly"

"That's your plan?" you laughed, "Get me drunk and make me spill all my secrets?"

"I never assumed you had any secrets, but yeah, now I wanna know those too" Harry grinned, throwing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Although this kind of intimacy was something you've been somewhat used to, tonight it was just a bit more difficult to bear. And it may all have been due to the way he mentioned he wouldn’t want anything to get to your head, and the way he said he’d make sure of it. Even though you weren’t truly clear how he’d do that and what exactly was going through his head, it was crystal clear how you’d have him do that.

But now was not the time. You glued your eyes to the TV screen, and begged your brain to focus on the movie in front of you and not whatever Harry was thinking about, mere inches away from you.

There had been something in the air that night, because neither of you managed to pay any kind of attention to the movie anymore. You talked, the conversation not going back to the previous topic, you laughed, gossiped like there was no tomorrow, and now it was almost 4am, and you and Harry were 3 bottles of wine in. Deciding to cut the alcohol before it was too late, you settled for water, as Harry went on to finish a weird story he once heard from a hippie touring the states in his van. He was completely smitten, his eyes shone with admiration for the old man. Harry spoke with words of great respect about a life he wished he could once live. It was only a matter of time until it would get to you.

“But,” you sighed, laying down and placing your head into his lap, “You really seem like the kind of guy to pack his bags and just leave. Like get a couple of friends or something, leave a note saying you’ll eventually be back, and just travel around the world”

“I kinda already do tha’ love” Harry laughed, double chin showing as he looked down at you.

“Not what I meant” you shook your head, “And you know it”

“Wha’ did yeh mean, then?”

He looked down at you, his hands finding their way into your hair as you contemplated how to put the words together. “I don’t know… Less social interaction-” you finally said, “Make it less about living the same songs in front of thousands of people, and more about living a completely new experience as you really get to know just a handful of people”

He didn’t look convinced. His dimples were showing, and a chuckle was threatening to escape his lips.

“That didn’t make any sense, did it?” you laughed.

“It did” Harry smiled, “Might have’ta resume this in tha’ morning, but i think i got the idea”

You pointed your finger to him, “Best”

“Me?” he grinned, grabbing your hand, “Oh, stop it!”

“Not you, your idea”

“Nice save, love”

You wanted to object and keep this topic going as the butterflies in your stomach started to riot, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of your phone receiving another text filled the air. In an instant, your eyes locked with Harry’s and you knew he wasn’t gonna let any of that shit slide. Not wanting to give him the chance to protest, you sprung up and leaned towards the coffee table, your fingers barely managing to brush against the side of your phone before Harry grabbed your waist and yanked you back, pressing you against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered above you.

The intimacy and urgency of this whole charade made your skin crawl, and you couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape, “What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Not lettin’ tha’ asshole ruin your night, love” Harry smirked, tilting your head so that you had to face him.

“I’ll see the text in the morning and it will ruin my whole day” you played along, but as it turned out, you dug your own grave.

“Oh?” he grinned, “So it does get to you”

“No!” you belted, “That is not what I meant, Jesus harry”

“Come on, hon”

His head tilted to the side, before he leaned down and nudged the tip of your nose with his. “Jus’ say the word”

That sent burning chills down your spine, and your cheeks couldn’t do anything but to comply and turn an erotic shade of pink.

“I’m not sure what to say” you mumbled, fighting against the urge to jump on him.

“I’m yer best friend, love-” he made a small pause, for dramatic effect, and just stared down at you while your blood boiled, “Lemme show yeh how good yeh can feel”

“I-”

He cut you off, obviously proud of himself, “I obviously wouldn’t have asked twice if I hadn’t felt you squeeze your thighs around me”

“Fuck, Harry-” you said, embarrassment rushing all over you as you threw your hands in the air.

He leaned down, and brushed his lips along your jaw, “Yeh could be screaming tha’ name”

Regaining your composure, you grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact once again, “What does this mean to you?”

“It doesn’t have t’ mean anything we don’t want it to” he nodded, “Just friends looking out of one another”

“Mhm..” you choked, “Yep”

“Tell me, and I’ll get off of you”

Your answer came a short second later. “Yeah, get off” you said sternly.

His features barely got a chance to show the disappointment that enveloped him, because as soon as the words left your mouth, you pushed yourself up. Excitement started showing on his face as you pushed yourself up. With a devilish smile on your lips, you grabbed the hem of his shirt; not giving him a chance to secure his balance on his knees before you pulled the material up his body. He clumsily shuffled out of it, his tattoos coming into full view.

“Is that a new one” you asked, pointing to his left shoulder.

To your surprise he took you seriously, and looked down, obviously confused, “Which one, love?”

“This one” you grinned, pushing yourself up and against his chest, this way, giving yourself a chance to press your lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s whole body shivered under you as he let out a small chuckle. Instantly, his hands found your waist. Once your lips grazed his sensitive skin, the muscles of his neck relaxed as if under a spell and his head fell back. Harry’s fingers dug into your sides as your teeth sunk his flesh, sucking profusely. Having waited for this so many years, it felt all too real and completely unreal at the same time. There was a fire burning inside of you and the soft moans slipping past his lips were no help with taming it.

“Having fun?” Harry laughed, but his confidence and usual air of self control were shaking.

As a response, you bit into his ear lobe and delighted yourself with the whimpers of pleasure he didn’t even try to hide.

Although burning for it, you didn’t have it in you to go for his lips, so when he was the one to do it, all your radars went crazy. The way he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer, it was all you wished for. Years worth of pent up emotions dripped from your lips and onto his.

How ungrateful and inappropriate would it have been for you to beg for more and guide the situation in a different direction? Even if his gentleness made your knees weak, the heat between your legs begged for a less kissing and a lot more biting.

It was when he pressed you down against him that made you forget about everything that held you back. His erection was rubbing against your thigh as you grinded down on him, and you couldn’t help but break the kiss and sink your teeth into his lower lip.

Harry threw his head back against your touch, and a proud smile lifted up the corners of your mouth.

“Come on” you moaned, kissing your way down to his ear, “Show me how you should treat a girl”

His fingers snuck into your hair and pulled your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his’, “Is it me? Or are yeh a bit more excited for this than you initially let on?”

Your eyes sparkled as you let out the fib, “It’s just you”

Grinning, he shook his head in mock approval, and secured you in his hold, before effortlessly spinning the two of you around. Now, a mess of limbs, you looked up at Harry with what could only be described as pure lust. And it all reflected on his features. His ridiculously messy curls framed his face perfectly, allowing his proud gaze to fuel your engines.

With all your might you wanted to let him take the lead and not show too much enthusiasm, but it felt next to impossible. Before you knew it, your hands were cupping his cheeks again, forcing his body flush against your own. He kissed you back with no hesitation, as if he too waited years for this to finally happen, as if this was his dumb way of confessing to you that he too, was head over heels for you. But that was a scenario that regardless of its likelihood, was sure to ruin your mood.

So you pushed it aside, forced your mind to fall on standby, and instead, you concentrated on the way his hands explored every single inch of your body. When he broke the kiss, you wanted to protest, your tongue crying from the sudden loss of contact. But his lips traveled lower, kissing all the way over down your neck, along your collarbones, and across your chest. It was all aggravated and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Yeh good?” Harry asked, looking up at you, cheeks all flushed.

“Yep, yeah” you whispered, the weight of the moment turning your voice into a light chuckle. Breathless and innocent, you were on cloud nine, and all your struggles to keep that hidden were in vain.

Delicately, as only he could, Harry pushed your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed, a fact which sent a whole new wave of pleasure down your body. This gesture alone shook your whole world, but he wasn't wasting any time. You barely even got a chance to catch your breath before he lowered himself, and cupped your breasts into his palms. Your back arched in an instant, and when his warm lips connected to your skin, goosebumps propagated all over your whole body. As circled his lips and caught your nipple between his teeth, your mind went crazy, muscles sizzling with anticipation. A suggestive moan slipped from your throat, and you could tell it surely tickled his ego.

“Gettin’ there?” he questioned even if he already knew the answer.

You threw him half a shrug, tilting your head to the side and pressing your cheek to your shoulder.

“So fuckin’ cute, angel” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he crawled up your body, “Why’re yeh so cute?”

“How would I know?” you blushed, playing along with his overly teasing approach, “You’re the one who sad it”

“Don’t know why I think yeh’re cute?”

You nodded no.

A small but sure fire lit up his features, and he knew it was on. He did maintain the eye contact for a while, but when he finally looked down at your body, nonchalantly staring at your chest, that was when your breath got caught in your throat. The pressure was building up, yet Harry kept pushing your buttons.

In desperate need to pick up the pace, you nudged his chin with the back of your fingers, and when his eyes caught yours; you raised one eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. “Wha’ do yeh want me t’ tell yeh, love?” Harry grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you like about me” you laughed, linking your fingers in his hair. While you laughed due to the amount of different emotions that coursed through you, Harry made it all the more difficult for you to keep it together. His kisses were light enough for you to feel the ounces of love that dripped from his lips, but carnal enough to keep you on your toes.

“I love everything about yeh” he murmured against your skin, his chain of passionate kisses crossing over to the other side of your neck, “I mean, wha’s there not t’ like?”

“Word” you giggled, your sarcasm coming in perfect contrast to the weakness his question brought to your knees.

“Fuckin’ love every inch” Harry said, having completely ignored your joke, “Every single part of yeh, yer body and god, yer mind”

His hands cupped the sides of your rib cage, as his lips traveled down your sternum. He seemed lost, completely absorbed. Every time he looked up at you, it was impossible not to notice how out of this world his eyes seemed. Glossy and dark, extravagant green looking to explore more of you. And those were only the times you managed to catch him staring. The pleasure this man provided surpassed the moaning level, he got you working hard not to scream in ecstasy, as his tongue ran laps around your nipples, and the way his lips sucked with that specific amount of pressure. It looked as if he already knew where all your buttons were, he acted as if he knew your body better than you did. And for you, that was a new experience, which would’ve already been too much, even without Harry involved. But seeing your fingers get lost in his absolutely perfect in a messy kind of way locks, as he treated your skin with such refined skill, you found yourself way too close to the edge.

In the high of the moment, probably following an unidentifiable stimulus, you found yourself concentrated on the way his palms felt against your skin. He held you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing he ever laid eyes on. And for some reason, that feeling alone had you skyrocketing.

It was when you moaned out loud, for the first time not holding back, that he finally decided to give you what he promised.

“Yeh sure this is ok, angel, yeah?” he murmured, looking up at you.

His light stubble tickled the lower side of your abdomen as his breath barely managed to reach your skin.

“Yeah” you clumsily nodded, your words coated in fervid enthusiasm.

Something happened. Something clicked inside of him. You saw it in the way his eyes warmed up. For a second he didn’t move, instead he just took in everything that was happening. When he eventually pushed himself up, you expected him to help you or motion for you to undress, but he didn’t. Harry lowered himself on top of you, pressing his chest against your own.

His fingers locked themselves against your chin, “I really wanna fucking do this right for yeh”

His confession took you aback. The seriousness in this tone was not something you anticipated. At first, he was the one who made it all seem like a meaningless game, yet right now, it seemed as though he fell into his own trap.

All you could do was nod. Nod in approval, nod as a sign for him to keep going. As a promise that it was all ok. This attitude of his was not something you signed up for. Even if it looked like the beginning of what you always wanted, it also felt a little bit too sudden.

“Come here” you cooed, cupping his cheeks in a loving manner.

In an instant, he leaned into your touch, his skin burning against your damp palms. For the x-th time that evening, his lips melted onto yours, but something felt different. But you kept going, allowed the moment to carry you further without giving yourself the burden of dictating a direction.

And seconds passed, and with each one, his touch became more and more aggravated. You could feel his need, and you have loved to think that what you were feeling from him was love, but it was just too big of a step to take right now. Not too shortly after, the situation escalated towards the point you left off earlier. You let him take the lead, and he soon returned to his usual self.

Harry made his way down your body through a chain of lingering kisses, each one of them awakening yet another side of you. This time, you were given no time to prepare. His experienced hands grabbed your thighs, groping their way up to your hips. Although it was fairly fast, it felt like an eternity. You breathing picked up when his fingers hooked themselves into the waistband of your leggings, and without even thinking about it, you pushed yourself up, allowing him to take them off.

Now, you hadn’t seen this coming, because if you had, you probably would have chosen to wear something less embarrassing than your Superman underwear. Your cheek heated up as if it was the first time a man had seen you naked, and all your insecurities washed over you. None of those thoughts crossed Harry’s mind though.

He just smiled - a gesture whose roots you’d never know.

Harry positioned himself between your legs, his fingers gingerly tracing up and down your outer thighs. “Really fucken gorgeous, yeh know tha’?”

His compliments have never been this hard to receive, “Shut up” you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you couldn't help but squirm under his stare.

“Wha’?” Harry grinned, leaning his head to the side as he let his teasing side take over,

“Tha’ tinder fuckface never told yeh just how perfect yeh look?”

“This is still about him, huh?”

“It’s about yeh, love” Harry rolled his eyes, letting his nails graze your skin, “Always been about yeh, always will be”

With each word that let his mouth, he leaned down, lower and lower, until every inch of his body was pressing against your own. He dominated the moment, and you love it.

When he engulfed your lips into a kiss, his right hand traveled between your legs. That alone made your core vibrate, and knowing there was no way to hide your enthusiasm, made you smile.

You felt the back of his fingers trace up and down your opening, and his words confirmed your suspicions. He pulled away from your lips just enough so he could speak, but he was still too close for you to properly see his features - he was just a few literal inches away, “I can’t wait to taste yeh, doll”

The grin on his lips and the pride of his tone, had a visible effect on you. The hairs on your body stood up in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but arch your back and close your legs around him. You kissed him back, and this time, it was on.

As his tongue pushed past your lips, Harry’s hands lewdly traveled down your sides, caressing every inch of exposed skin they found in their way. You didn’t see the eagerness coming, but when he reached between your legs, the flimsy material of your underwear didn’t even begin to come in his way. He shoved his hand under your panties, his fingers instantly coming in contact with your opening.

It was solely the emotional value of the moment that made you nearly gasp. Harry took his sweet damn time, as if you needed any more foreplay. The pads of his fingers gingerly traced up and down your opening a few times, before coming back up again to rest against your clit. It was soft and easy at the beginning, but the feather light touch of his fingers started gaining more and more pressure as subtle circular movements started to form.

When you looked up at him, you were met with the mess of curls that had fallen onto his forehead as he had his head hanging low, with his eyes trained between your bodies. With a gentle nudge against his chin, you prompted him to look up. At first he seemed a bit disoriented, but a wicked grin shortly appeared on his lips. It made you smile.

He was the one to resume the kiss, making it gentle this time - in perfect contrast with the action of his fingers, as he slowly made his way past your folds. When the first finger went in, you curled the corners of your mouth in anticipation. It felt fine, but it was just the tip of the iceberg and you knew it. Eager for more, you allowed your teeth to lewdly sink into his lower lip, willing to show him you wanted more.

With a grunt, Harry shuffled a bit, his knees bucking into your hips. The deep breath he released tickled your skin, but you weren’t going to let this go. As you forced your teeth just a bit deeper into his plush skin, Harry let his forehead fall against yours.

His tongue neatly traced along your upper lip, and you thought it was in response to your actions. And this erroneous thought kept you from anticipating his next move. When Harry pushed one more finger in, your senses went mad, and the simple fact that he didn't give you too much time to adjust before he pushed a third finger in, rocked you completely.

You moaned in return and arched your back.

"I got yeh, baby girl" he whispered softly, "Look at me, I got yeh, ok?"

After receiving an enthusiastic nod from you, Harry made his way down your body. This time, he swiftly shuffled to the side, pulling your legs together and riding you of the unnecessary piece of underwear you still had on.

Not waiting for him to take control, you spread your legs, and feasted on the carnal look he had in his eyes as he looked down at your body. He didn’t waste any time before finding the perfect spot between your legs. Your whole body shivered as he leaned his head to the side, his light stubble tickling its way down the inside of your thighs.

And following the rough feeling of the still shy beard you didn’t think he was able to grow, when his soft lips brushed against your skin, you involuntarily clenched. You bucked your hips and your legs tried, but to no avail, to close the distance between one another. You wanted more - needed more. And he noticed it.

Looking down along your body, you could only see the top of his head. And his fingers, pressing into the skin of your legs. And the tip of his nose as he proceeded to tease you into oblivion with millions of kisses, each of them nothing less than heavenly, but still, nothing compared to what you knew was coming next. The only warning he gave you as a hurried grin, and it was nowhere near enough.

It was on. Elegantly, but with traces of dominance in his touch, and with two fingers, Harry spread your pussy wide open, his tongue lewdly slipping right inside you. The contact and the buildup made you gasp. Had you not been so over the moon and distracted already, you’d have heard him snicker in response to the sound you just made. But you were too caught up. You felt him on every inch of your body, and the signals your core were sending you, were not what you wanted.

You wanted this to last. To have him go at it, lapping at your core for hours. To feel his tongue wag until your senses went numb.It might have been the dry spell that was forced upon you as the pandemic overtook your life, or the timeless, painful crush you’ve had on him for years, but you were already on the edge.

Trying hard to make the moment last, you curled your pointer finger and shoved it into your mouth, biting down hard. Your back arched dangerously as your head flew back, but it all just worked in his favour. Your pleasure was building up, and the careful, experienced movement of Harry’s tongue against your clit was only gaining momentum.

“Yeh taste like fucking heaven but I think yeh already knew tha’” he said, for a second pulling away from your core and giving you a chance to catch your breath.

All you managed was a pathetic excuse of a nod, along with a shy roll of your eyes.

“None of tha’” Harry laughed, licking his lips, “Don’t care how close yeh are, ‘m not gonna stop until yeh moan my name, love”

“Jesus christ, Harry!” you panted, shaking your head.

He responded in a similar manner, and again, with no warning whatsoever, he went back in. This short break allowed you to regain your composure, even if it was just a tiny bit. Your excitement, although still there and just as consuming, was easier to control now. You felt his touch all throughout your body, his tongue tickling all your senses.

What brought you closer into the moment was the feeling of his hands, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs up onto his shoulders. For whatever reason, this felt even more intimate, and as his fingers sank into your flesh, you felt your engines start up again.

The delicate flicks of his tongue were getting more and more aggravated by the second, and now it was close to impossible to keep calm. Sweaty palms gripping tirelessly into the cushions under you, your back under constant strain, your eyes squeezed shut - he had you entirely.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he went further. Harry pushed one finger inside of you, moving his lips up to fully concentrate on your clit. His tongue prepared you, got you all ready and wanting, and then, he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucked - gently and with a minimal amount of pressure, but god-

“Fuck, Harry-” you called out. It was more of a cry, choked back in the depths of your throat, all breathy and muffled.

“Come on, angel” Harry whispered.

As you looked down, past your heaving chest, your eyes landed conveniently on the top of his head. Complete chaos - his unruly curls tickled the inside of your thighs, as his fingers dug into your flesh. The two rings he never takes off were sure to leave proud indents on your skin.

Harry sucked at your bundle of nerves, the eager touch of his tongue awakening absolutely every need inside your being. Add the experienced pumps of his fingers and the fact that this was Harry Styles and none other, and you were done.

With each passing second you started to lose more and more of the control you had on your body. Sweating nervously out of every pore of your body, you squirmed under his weight hoping you’d make the moment last.

“‘S good, love, isn’t it?” Harry smirked for just about a second, “I can see yeh, yeh’re a mess fo’ me”

“Fuck” you whined, covering your face with your right palm as your head tilted backwards, “Shut up”

“Oh!” Harry faked surprise, “Gettin’ cocky?”

As he spoke, Harry curled his fingers inside your pussy; maybe intentionally - maybe by chance, hitting all the right spots and making you moan out loud.

“I’ll take tha’ as an apology”

You scoffed.

Harry shook his head. When you looked down at him again, you caught him licking his lips. It was obvious he waited for you to catch him doing that.

Already at the edge of your self control, you curled your fingers into his hair, motioning for him to resume his work. He followed your lead without any complaints, and when his bottom teeth grazed your clit, even if it was light as a feather you lost it.

Your mind became numb, drunk on the pleasure he provided. Your eyes rolled back as you enjoyed every second of your high. Harry kept you spiraling, continuing to lap at your core as the muscles of your legs tensed uncontrollably around his frame.

“Holy fuck-” you breathed out, voice shaky and wounded.

He made sure to milk every ounce of pleasure out of your being, leaving you a heaving mess under his stare.

Harry pushed himself up, nonchalantly wiping his chin, his eyes not allowing yours to look away.

As you gathered yourself and worked on bringing your breathing back to normal, there was only one thought going on inside your head - that it would only be fair if you reciprocate the gesture. Thinking about it was enough to make your core buzz again, but you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, and instead hoped he’d show he wished things didn’t stop either.

But he didn’t.

However, you got to kiss him again. And no matter how badly you wanted to keep the atmosphere on fire, he had other plans.

“Did I take good care of yeh?” Harry asked as he leaned down beside you. His hand found your cheek, keeping you in place for another longing kiss, “Did I do yeh right?”

You nodded against his lips, not willing to actually word the answer.

His chuckle made it clear that the point got through. And for a second it seemed as if the night wasn’t done. None of you was willing to pull away, and allowed the minutes to go by without a care in the world, lost in each other’s arms.

“Freakin’ love yeh, angel” Harry said.

It wasn’t the first time you’d hear this coming out of his mouth, but you couldn’t help but smile thinking this time it was meant in a different manner. You answered him by cuddling deeper into his chest, and that was a moment you wouldn’t have traded for the world.

And you fell asleep like that. No matter how big and luxurious your couch was, you still spent the night glued to one another. Harry felt every calm breath of yours on his skin and everytime he moved a bit to adjust his position, his hold tightened around you to make sure he wasn’t pushing you away.

After what was probably the best sleep you’d gotten in the whole year of 2020, morning came around. Actually it was lunch time, if we’re being generous. The sun was high up, proudly making its way into your living room, past the curtains to forgot to draw the other night.

When you awoke, Harry wasn’t there anymore. However, panic didn’t have the time to settle in as you heard movement coming from the kitchen, and the strong smell of coffee reached your nose in no time.

You got up from the couch, with herds of butterflies in your stomach. Harry’s words from last night still echoed in your head, and even now, with no alcohol in your system, they managed to bring goosebumps all over your skin.

“When did you get up?”

That was how you made your presence known.

Harry turned around with a smile on his face. He had a bag of avocados tucked under his arm, as he typed away on his phone. His undone pants were hanging onto his thighs for dear life, and the only other piece of fabric on his body was a thin, brown hair tie around his wrist. There were a few purple marks along his collar bones and his hair looked rougher than usual, things which deep down, shook you up a bit.

“Wanted to take yeh out fo’ breakfast, but I gotta leave in like an hour, so I figured this should do”

“Yeah, yeah sure” you agreed, “It’s perfect”

“Would’ve done mo’, but Y/n, yeh have no food in this house”

You laughed, walking over to slump down into one of the chairs, “Didn’t get a chance to get any perishables”

“You got some” Harry chuckled, “You got weeks’ worth of everything you need to make guacamole and pancakes”

“I have no idea how that happened, those will spoil” you shook your head, “You can take some of them actually”

“Or I could just come over”

“Even better”

The food was ready in no time. Harry had everything done and set while you washed up a bit, and after that, you both sat down to eat. Minimal and light, but still, there was a weight in the pit of your stomach.

“About last night-” Harry began to say, but you tried to stop him.

“You don’t have to-”

“We kinda do, love” he smiled, “I need to apologise, angel”

You squinted your eyes, “For?”

“I don’t really have t’ apologise fo’ what I said because I meant every word” Harry slowly said, as if he has a hard time putting his thoughts together, “I jus’ wish I hadn’t said it like tha’ though”

“Like what?” you questioned, a bit lost.

“Like I had the right to say that kind of crap” he laughed. It was nervous laughter, like he was afraid of what was coming next, “I do fucking love yeh, but I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to hear that”

“What are you talking about, I don’t understand” you groaned, growing a bit tired of the impatience he brought upon you.

“You’re my best friend, ok?” he sighed, “That’s all we are, Y/n, and that was not supposed to happen”

The food got lodged in your throat, and you felt like if you didn’t stand up, you’d no longer be able to breathe. “It was your idea” you scoffed.

Harry’s eyes followed your frame, but he remained seated, “I know”

“So what changed? If anything even changed. I don’t understand what the problem is. You regret we did what we did-”

“I don’t regret anything” Harry butted it.

“You said it was not supposed to happen!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes as you walked over to the sink, just to make yourself useful and to stop just standing in front of him.

“The things I said to you-” he said sternly, pushing his chair back and throwing his hands into the air, “I shouldn’t have said those, ok? It doesn’t matter who meant what, I told you things that-”

“What did you tell me that’s bothering you so much?” you almost yelled, annoyance dripping out of your pores. You walked over to him, and he closed the distance by standing up.

“I-” Harry stuttered, playing with his hair to buy himself some more time. “All the-”

“What?” you pushed, “That you like everything about me? That’s what you regret saying? And what else?”

“God” he groaned, “I don’t regret saying tha’, it’s just tha’ it wasn’t my place to say it”

You fell silent.

“If I were you... I’d want to hear those things from someone that is more than just a friend to me” he confessed.

“And you can’t be that to me? More than a friend?”

After a few seconds of painful silence, realization hit him, “Y/n…”

He did reach out. He took a step towards you but you stepped back. The remorse in his tone was too painful to ignore. So you moved away from him and slowly made your way out of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” Harry called, following you.

“Just go”

“Please...”

“Please what?” you shook your head, but he didn’t have the words you needed to hear.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fucking fine” you sighed, walking backwards towards your room, “Just show yourself out”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #harry styles fanfic #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction imagine #one direction imagines #one direction fanfiction

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kingandfireheart · 3 years

Text

YOUR MATING BOND IS SHOWING: Some underrated Nessian scenes pre-ACOFAS

alternatively titled: how did no one in the Inner Circle accidentally tell Nesta?

I didn't include the big moments (the Cauldron, the Bone Carver, Next Time, Emissary, I'll Come Say Hello, CASSIAN, and Hybern) because they are longer scenes, but these are some small and medium sized moments.

When Cassian can't stop staring at Human Nesta:

Cassian was sizing up Nesta, a gleam in his eyes that I could only interpret as a warrior finding himself faced with a new, interesting opponent.

...

Nesta didn’t bat an eyelash as she studied the handsome features, the muscled torso. Then turned to me. Dismissing him entirely.

Cassian’s face went almost feral. A wolf who had been circling a doe … only to find a mountain cat wearing its hide instead.

...

Rhys gave me a warning look. I gripped Nesta’s arm, drawing her attention to me. “Can we just … start over?”

I could almost taste her pride roiling in her veins, barking to not back down.

Cassian, damn him, gave her a taunting grin.

But Nesta merely hissed, “Fine.” And went back to eating.

Cassian watched every bite she took, every bob of her throat as she swallowed.

...

“That’s very beautiful,” she said. “Is it not—frightening, though? To fly so high?”

“It is sometimes,” Azriel said. Cassian tore his relentless attention from Nesta long enough to nod his agreement.

When Nesta gives Cassian the finger:

He’d given Nesta a mocking bow, and she’d given him a vulgar gesture I hadn’t realized she knew how to make.

Cassian had merely laughed, his eyes snaking over Nesta’s ice-blue gown with a predatory intent that, given her hiss of rage, he knew would set her spitting. Then he was gone, leaving my sister on the broad doorstep, her brown-gold hair ruffled by the chill wind stirred by his mighty wings.

When Cassian comes back from Wings & Embers:

I assumed seeing Nesta went about as poorly as could be imagined, because my lesson the following morning was longer and harder than it’d been in previous days. I’d asked what, exactly, Nesta had said to him to get under his skin so easily. But Cassian had only snarled and told me to mind my own business, and that my family was full of bossy, know-it-all females.

When Cassian declares he'll defend the humans (ACOMAF version)

His voice was rough as he said, “Five hundred years ago, I fought on battlefields not far from this house. I fought beside human and faerie alike, bled beside them. I will stand on that battlefield again, Nesta Archeron, to protect this house—your people. I can think of no better way to end my existence than to defend those who need it most.”

I watched a tear slide down Nesta’s cheek. And I watched as Cassian reached up a hand to wipe it away. She did not flinch from his touch.

When Feyre notices the mating bond:

When I looked ahead, I found Cassian staring back at Nesta as well.

I wondered why no one had yet mentioned what now shone in Cassian’s eyes as he gazed at my sister.

The sorrow. And the longing.

When Cassian tells Nesta exactly what is going to happen to Briallyn:

“You come between a male and his mate, Nesta Archeron, and you’re going to learn about the consequences the hard way.”

When Cassian speaks of his own intentions:

I blew out a breath. “Who else thinks it’s a terrible idea to leave the three of them up at the House of Wind?”

Cassian raised his hand as Rhys and Mor chuckled. The High Lord’s general said, “I give him an hour before he tries to see her.”

...

Cassian’s hazel eyes shuttered as he crossed a booted ankle over another, stretching his muscled legs before him. “I go up there every other day. It’s good exercise for my wings.” Those wings shifted in emphasis. Not a scratch marred them.

When Cassian wants revenge:

Mor’s lips pressed into a thin line, as if she was trying her best not to say anything. Azriel was trying his best to shoot a warning stare at Mor to remind her to indeed keep her mouth shut. As if they’d already discussed this. Many times.

“I don’t blame her,” Cassian said, shrugging despite his words. “She was—violated. Her body stopped belonging wholly to her.” His jaw clenched. Even Amren didn’t dare say anything. “And I am going to peel the King of Hybern’s skin off his bones the next time I see him.”

His Siphons flickered in answer.

Rhys said casually, “I’m sure the king will thoroughly enjoy the experience.”

Cassian glowered. “I mean it.”

When Cassian realizes how beautiful his mate is:

Yes, devastating was a good word for how lovely she’d become as High Fae. And in a long-sleeved, dark blue gown that clung to her curves before falling gracefully to the ground in a spill of fabric …

Cassian looked like someone had punched him in the gut.

When Cassian got out of an uncomfortable situation:

Mor blinked, but confided to me with a wince, “I think we’re going to need a lot more wine.”

Nesta’s spine stiffened. But she said nothing.

“I’ll raid the collection,” Cassian offered, disappearing through the inner hall doors too quickly to be casual.

Nesta stiffened a bit more.

When Nesta wants revenge

“Were they made immortal?” This question went to Azriel.

Azriel’s Siphons smoldered. “Reports have been murky and inconsistent. Some say yes, others say no.”

Nesta examined her wineglass.

Cassian braced his forearms on the table. “Why?”

Nesta’s eyes shot right to his face. She spoke quietly to me, to all of us, even as she held Cassian’s gaze as if he were the only one in the room. “By the end of this war, I want them dead. The king, the queens—all of them. Promise me you’ll kill them all, and I’ll help you patch up the wall. I’ll train with her”—a jerk of her chin to Amren—“I’ll go to the Hewn City or whatever it is … I’ll do it. But only if you promise me that.”

When Cassian is mad at Feyre and lies:

I studied him, the wings tucked in tight, the shoulder-length dark hair. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” He stalked past me to the ring.

“Is it Nesta?”

“Not everything in my life is about your sister, you know.”

I kept my mouth shut on that front.

When Nesta shows up to training:

Something drew Cassian’s attention behind me. And even as his body remained casual, a predatory gleam flickered in his eyes.

I didn’t need to turn to know who was standing there.

“Care to join?” Cassian purred.

Nesta said, “It doesn’t look like you’re exercising anything other than your mouths.”

I looked over my shoulder. My sister was in a dress of pale blue that turned her skin golden, her hair swept up, her back a stiff column. I scrambled to say something, to apologize, but … not in front of him. She wouldn’t want this conversation in front of Cassian.

Cassian extended a wrapped hand, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Scared?”

I wisely kept my mouth shut as Nesta stepped from the open doorway into the blinding light of the courtyard. “Why should I be scared of an oversized bat who likes to throw temper tantrums?”

...

Cassian was saying to Nesta, “Seems like you’re a little on edge, Nesta. And you left so abruptly last night … Any way I can help ease that tension?”

When Cassian has manners: (and realizes his mate may never fly)

Mercifully, or perhaps not, Nesta’s retching filled the silence. Cassian gaped at Rhys. “What did you do?”

“I asked him the same thing,” I said, crossing my arms. “He said he ‘went fast.’ ”

Nesta vomited again—then silence.

Cassian sighed at the ceiling. “She’ll never fly again.”

The doorknob twisted, and we tried—or at least Cassian and I did—not to seem like we’d been listening to her. Nesta’s face was still greenish-pale, but … Her eyes burned.

When Cassian helps her calm down:

There was no way of describing that burning—and even painting it might have failed.

Her eyes remained the same blue-gray as my own. And yet … Molten ore was all I could think of. Quicksilver set aflame.

She advanced a step toward us. All her attention fixed on Rhys.

Cassian casually stepped in her path, wings folded in tight. Feet braced apart on the carpet. A fighting stance—casual, but … his Siphons glimmered.

“Do you know,” Cassian drawled to her, “that the last time I got into a brawl in this house, I was kicked out for a month?”

Nesta’s burning gaze slid to him, still outraged—but hinted with incredulity.

He just went on, “It was Amren’s fault, of course, but no one believed me. And no one dared banish her.”

She blinked slowly.

But the burning, molten gaze became mortal. Or as mortal as one of us could be.

When he calls her "Nes" for the first time:

Both males went a bit still. But Azriel sketched a bow—while Cassian stalked for the dining table, reached right over Nesta’s shoulder, and grabbed a muffin from its little basket. “Morning, Nesta,” he said around a mouth of blueberry-lemon. “Elain.”

---

Cassian finished the muffin, licking his fingers. I could have sworn Nesta watched the entire thing with a sidelong glance. He grinned at her as if he knew it, too. “Ready for some flying, Nes?”

“Don’t call me that.”

The wrong thing to say, from the way Cassian’s eyes lit up.

When she flies with him for the first time:

My sister’s face was wind-flushed as Cassian gently set her down. Then she strode for the glass doors without a single look back.

“You’re welcome,” Cassian called after her, more than a bite to his voice. His hands clenched and slackened at his sides—as if he were trying to loosen the feel of her from his palms.

When he rescues her and can't hide his disappointment the she didn't hug him:

He said nothing as Nesta launched herself toward him, her dress filthy and disheveled, her arms stretching for him. He opened his own for her, unable to stop his approach, his reaching— She gripped his leathers instead.

...

Cassian only stretched out an arm for her. As if in a trance, she walked right to his side. His arms tightened around both of us, Siphons flaring, gilding the darkness with bloodred light.

When Nesta is recovering from the library attack and he's an attentive mate:

Nesta looked like she was going to be sick. Cassian wordlessly refilled her glass.

When he's protective and we find out about their height difference

Cassian was staring at Nesta—hard enough that my sister at last twisted toward him. Met his gaze. His head tilted—slightly. A silent order.

Nesta, to my shock, obeyed. Drifted over to Cassian’s side as Amren replied to Rhys, “No.”

...

Cassian casually slid Nesta behind him, his fingers snagging in the skirts of her black gown. As if to reassure himself that she wasn’t in Amren’s direct path. Nesta only rose onto her toes to peer over his shoulder.

When Cassian still isn't back from Adriata:

Nesta was waiting at the breakfast table the next morning. Not for me, I realized as her gaze slipped over me as if I were no more than a servant. But for someone else. I kept my mouth shut, not bothering to tell her Cassian was still up at the war-camps. If she wouldn’t ask … I wasn’t getting in the middle of it.

When Cassian is proud of Nesta:

“I would.” Nesta surveyed us all, her gaze jumping past Cassian. Not to slight him, but … avoid answering the look he was giving her. Approval—more. “It was some distant thing,” she said. “War. Battle. It … it’s not anymore. I will help, if I can. If it means … telling them what happened.”

When Nesta defends Cassian for the first time:

Beron only sneered. “I don’t take orders from the bastards of lesser fae whores.”

...

“That bastard,” Nesta said with utter coolness, though her eyes began to burn, “may wind up being the only person standing in the way of Hybern’s forces and your people.”

She didn’t so much as look at Cassian as she said it. But he stared at her—as if he’d never seen her before.

When Feyre dismissed Nesta but Cassian doesn't:

The door opened, and Cassian stalked in, face grave. The sight of the wings, the Illyrian armor in this opulent, pink-filled room planted itself in my mind, the painting already taking form, as he said, “What’s wrong.”

He studied every inch of her. As if there were nothing and no one else here, anywhere.

But I said, “She senses something is off—says we need to leave right away.”

I waited for the dismissal, but Cassian angled his head. “What, precisely, feels wrong?”

When the Cauldron made Nesta barf and Cassian is an attentive mate

“What’s wrong?” Mor demanded, holding my sister upright as her face contorted in what looked to be—pain. Confusion and pain.

Sweat beaded on Nesta’s brow, though her face went deathly pale. “Something …” The word was cut off by a low groan. She sagged, and Mor caught her fully, scanning Nesta’s face. Cassian was instantly there, his hand at her back, teeth bared at the invisible threat.

“Nesta,” I said, reaching for her.

Nesta seized—then twisted past Cassian to empty her stomach into the reflection pool.

When he touches her forehead:

Cassian stepped in Nesta’s path when she tried to walk past him. Put a tan, callused hand on her forehead. She shook off the touch, but he gripped her wrist, forcing her to meet his stare. “Any one of those human pricks makes a move to hurt you,” he breathed, “and you kill them.”

He wouldn’t be coming—no, he’d be mustering the full might of the Illyrian legions. Azriel would be joining us, though.

Cassian pressed one of his knives into Nesta’s hand. “Ash can kill you now,” he said with lethal quiet as she stared down at the blade. “A scratch can make you queasy enough to be vulnerable. Remember where the exits are in every room, every fence and courtyard—mark them when you go in, and mark how many men are around you. Mark where Rhys and the others are. Don’t forget that you’re stronger and faster. Aim for the soft parts,” he added, folding her fingers around the hilt. “And if someone gets you into a hold …” My sister said nothing as Cassian showed her the sensitive areas on a man. Not just the groin, but the inside of the foot, pinching the thigh, using her elbow like a weapon. When he finished, he stepped back, his hazel eyes churning with some emotion I couldn’t place.

When Nesta watches Cassian in Battle:

Only Nesta strode toward the edge of the tents to watch the battle on the valley floor below. Mor joined her, then me.

Nesta did not flinch at the clash and din of battle. She only stared toward one black-armored figure, leading the lines, his occasional order to push or to hold that flank barking across the battle

...

Cassian was trying. Azriel had lunged into the fray, nothing more than shadows edged in blue light, battling his way toward where Cassian fought, utterly surrounded.

“Mother above,” Nesta said softly. Not in awe. No—no, that was dread in her voice.

...

By the time I strode away, Nesta had already faced the battle once more, rain plastering her hair to her head. Resuming her unending vigil of the general battling on the valley floor below.

When she wraps up his wrist (and when he's an idiot and focuses on Mor)

But Nesta had jolted to her feet, staring at Cassian....But she surveyed his seven Siphons, the dim red stones. And then she said, “You’re hurt.”

Cassian’s face was grim—his eyes glassy. “It’s fine.” Even the words were laced with exhaustion.

But she reached for his arm—his shield arm.

Cassian seemed to hesitate, but offered it to her, tapping the Siphon atop his palm. The armor slid back a fraction over his forearm, revealing—

“You know better than to walk around with an injury,” Rhys said a bit tensely.

“I was busy,” Cassian said, not taking his focus off Nesta as she studied the swollen wrist. How she’d detected it through the armor … She must have read it in his eyes, his stance.

I hadn’t realized she’d been observing the Illyrian general enough to notice his tells.

“And it’ll be fixed by morning,” Cassian added, daring Rhys to say otherwise.

But Nesta’s pale fingers gently probed his golden-brown skin, and he hissed through his teeth.

“How do I fix it?” she asked ...

Cassian slowly sat on the log where she’d been perched a moment before, groaning softly—as if even that movement taxed him. “Icing it usually helps, but wrapping it will just lock it in place long enough for the sprain to repair itself—”

She reached for the basket of bandages she’d been preparing, then for the pitcher at her feet.

I was too tired to do anything other than watch as she washed his wrist, his hand, her own fingers gentle... Cassian seemed too weary to speak as well while she wrapped bandages around his wrist, only grunting to confirm if it was too tight or too loose, if it helped at all. But he watched her—didn’t take his eyes off her face, the brows bunched and lips pursed in concentration.

And when she’d tied it neatly, his wrist wrapped in white, when Nesta made to pull back, Cassian gripped her fingers in his good hand. She lifted her gaze to his. “Thank you,” he said hoarsely.

Nesta did not yank her hand away. Did not open her mouth for some barbed retort.

She only stared and stared at him, at the breadth of his shoulders, even more powerful in that beautiful black armor, at the strong column of his tan neck above it, his wings. And then at his hazel eyes, still riveted to her face.

Cassian brushed a thumb down the back of her hand. Nesta opened her mouth at last, and I braced myself—

“You’re hurt?”

At the sound of Mor’s voice, Cassian snatched his hand back and pivoted toward Mor with a lazy smile. “Nothing for you to cry over, don’t worry.”

Nesta dragged her stare from his face—down to her now-empty hand, her fingers still curled as if his palm lay there. Cassian didn’t look at Nesta as she rose, snatching up the pitcher, and muttered something about getting more water from inside the tent.

Cassian and Mor fell into their banter, laughing and taunting each other about the battle and the ones ahead.

Nesta didn’t come back out again for some time.

When Cassian almost dies, and she's worried sick, and then she looks him over to make sure he's okay:

Nesta stood by the nearest tent, an empty water bucket between her feet. Her hair a damp mess atop her mud-flecked head. Watching us emerge, grim-faced—

“He’s fine. Healed and awake,” I said quickly.

Nesta’s shoulders sagged a bit.

...

Still coated in mud up to her shins, my sister paused on the other side—away from where Cassian now sat. Looked him over. Her face revealed nothing, yet her hands … I could have sworn a faint tremor rippled through her fingers before she balled them into fists and faced Amren. Cassian watched her for a moment longer before turning his head toward Amren as well.

...

Your sister came immediately when I explained what we needed, Rhys said. I think seeing Cassian hurt convinced her not to pick a fight today.

Or convinced my sister to pick a fight with someone else entirely.

When Nesta Scries: No harm no harm no harm

Nesta still didn’t move. She could not use the bathtub, she’d told me. Because the memories it dragged up—

Cassian said to her, “Nothing can harm you here.” He sucked in a breath, groaning softly, and rose to his feet. Azriel tried to stop him, but Cassian brushed him off and strode for my sister’s side. He braced a hand on the desk when he at last stopped. “Nothing can harm you,” he repeated.

Nesta was still looking at him when she finally shut her eyes. I shifted, and the angle allowed me to see what I hadn’t detected before.

Nesta stood before the map, a fist of bones and stones clenched over it. Cassian remained at her side—his other hand on her lower back.

...

With a gasp, Nesta’s fingers splayed wide, scattering stones and bones over the map. Cassian caught her with an arm around the waist as she swayed. He hissed in pain at the movement. “What the hell—”

When Cassian makes an offer most women would not refuse:

“Eat or bed?” Cassian had asked Nesta, and I honestly couldn’t tell if he’d meant it as some invitation. I debated telling him he was in no shape.

Nesta only said, “Bed.” And there was certainly no invitation in the exhausted reply.

When Elain is taken:

“We’ll get her back,” Cassian rasped from where he perched on the rolled arm of the chaise longue across the small sitting area, watching her carefully...

Nesta lowered her hands, lifting her head. Her eyes were red-rimmed, lips thin. “No, you will not.” She pointed to the map on the table. “I saw that army. Its size, who is in it. I saw it, and there is no chance of any of you getting into its heart. Even you,” she added when Cassian opened his mouth again. “Especially not when you’re injured.”

When Cassian declares he'll defend the humans, pt. 2 (ACOWAR)

“Good,” Cassian said, glancing at Nesta. “If I end my life defending those who need it most, then I will consider it a death well spent.

When Cassian was going to say something before the last battle:

Rhys only asked, “How long do you think we have?”

Cassian clenched his jaw, glancing at my sisters. Nesta was watching him keenly; Elain monitored the army from our minor elevation, face white with dread....

Cassian took a step away, but looked back at Nesta. Her face was hard as granite. He opened his mouth, but seemed to decide against whatever he was about to say. My sister said nothing as Cassian shot into the sky with a powerful thrust of his wings. Yet she tracked his flight until he was hardly more than a dark speck.

When they decide to lure away Hybern:

Nesta stared toward that armada, toward our father fighting in it. “Use me. As bait.”

I blinked at the same moment Cassian said, “No.”

...

“He will kill you,” Cassian snarled.

Her hand clenched on his arm. “That’s—that’s where you come in.”

To guard her. Protect her. To lay a trap for the king.

...

Cassian said steadily, “It’s the only shot we have of a diversion. Luring him away from that Cauldron.” His hands tightened on Nesta.

...

But Cassian asked Nesta, “Do you have what you need?”

Nesta nodded. “Amren showed me enough. What to do to rally the power to me.”

And if Amren and I could control the Cauldron between us … That distraction they’d offer …

Nesta looked down to Elain—our sister monitoring the bloodbath ahead. Then to me. She said quietly, “Tell Father—thank you.”

She wrapped her arms tightly around Cassian, those gray-blue eyes bright, then they were gone.

#ACOWAR was FULL of ACOSF crumbs #nesta and cassian examining eachother for injuries is huge #how did the busybodies not say anything about them being mates for TWO YEARS #I love these two #Nessian #a court of mist and fury #a court of silver flames #kp analysis #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar series #mtp

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shiiko529 · 2 years

Text

first scene

previous scene

They flew for hours, Ryou periodically squirming, not overly thrilled about being carried even though they didn't have much of a choice since Bakura insisted that wherever they were going was too far to walk. They stayed relatively low, not just trying to avoid being spotted by any angels or winged demons, but so they could land quickly if needed to avoid an aerial battle where Bakura would be at a severe disadvantage.

He didn’t feel like talking, and with nothing else to do the angel found himself looking around at the scenery. When he had been on his own, he hadn’t had the luxury of enjoying looking at the trees, or the clouds, or the stars. He had been staring at one particularly odd shaped cloud and was unprepared to suddenly be dropped into surprisingly warm water. Ryou sputtered and floundered for a few seconds, giving the demon a dirty look once he got his feet back under him.

Bakura snickered and dropped a bag the angel hadn't noticed earlier, not hesitating to pull off his clothes and step into the hot spring. "You need help getting those rags off?"

"I can do it myself." It quickly became apparent that he in fact, could not; not with the way his wing was bound. The more he struggled with his clothing, the more his wing hurt and the more frustrated he became. It was bad enough to not be able to fly, but to not even be able to manage his own clothing made him feel helpless.

Bakura stepped closer, deciding to intervene before the angel hurt himself further.

"Don't touch me!" Ryou snapped at him, recoiling. Apparently the pale creature’s dislike for violence didn’t preclude him from having a temper.

"The hell's your problem?"

"This is your fault! You left me!"

The demon frowned, remembering that Ryou’s own kind had treated him like trash and thrown him away. And it was true, if he had been there Bakura would’ve been able to prevent the angel’s injury. At the time, he simply hadn't thought about the fact that he was leaving Ryou in a position where his only real option if it came to defending himself involved bringing the house down literally on top of himself. "I came back didn't I? I didn't abandon you."

Ryou dropped his head, giving a slight nod. Bakura had come back, and not only that, but he stayed and watched over him while he was recovering, and was more than happy to carry the angel when they had left the woods; but why had he been gone for so long? "I thought you had forgotten about me."

"How could I forget about a treasure as beautiful as you?" He hadn’t meant to be gone for that long, but it had taken longer to find what he was looking for given the current state of the world. He gestured at the bag he had dropped, "The city's almost been picked clean, it took a while to find that stuff."

Ryou glanced at the bag before giving Bakura a questioning look. The demon nodded and motioned for him to open it. Inside, he found clean, new looking jeans, a rich blue backless shirt, a hair brush, a couple of well read books, and several board and card games. The thin shoulders slumped with guilt and regret at having blamed everything on Bakura; neither of them had had any way to know that Ryou was going to be attacked.

There were no further protests when the demon approached again and used his sharp claws to easily tear through the stained and threadbare fabric. Carefully but thoroughly, he scrubbed at the pale wings and back, turning the water into a murky mess.

Finally free of the dirt, Ryou’s feathers shone and reflected the moonlight, giving him a beautiful ethereal glow that Bakura found nearly impossible to tear his gaze away from. In all of his years, the demon had never seen anything so exquisite, not even another angel came close. As much as he disliked the fact that Ryou's wing was broken, part of him was glad that it meant Ryou could never leave him.

He wrapped his tail around the thin waist, pulling Ryou close before asking, “Do you know why angelic weapons are designed to burn demons when they cut us?”

The seemingly random question caught him completely off guard and he stared at Bakura for a moment before confirming that he did.

“Then you know what happens when an angel touches demon blood.”

Green eyes grew wide in horror as a dark hand grabbed his wrist, twisting so his palm was exposed as a sharp claw broke the demon’s own skin.

“Don’t! Please! Stop!” he cried, frantically squirming, unable to free himself from Bakura’s superior physical strength.

Ryou froze when the drop of thick, dark liquid landed on his hand. And then another. Slowly he cracked open an eye, blinking in confusion as he turned his head to see better. “It… It doesn’t hurt.” He could only stare as a couple more drops fell without causing him any pain. “Why? I… I don’t understand.”

“You are not an angel. Or at least not a normal one.”

He gaped as the same demon that had, in less than a week of knowing him, been nicer to him than any of the angels, continued to shatter his world view.

“Your wings aren’t white, they’re silver. They’re thinner than a normal angel’s wings, and the feathers are smaller, finer, more delicate. Your blood is different too.”

Bakura looked him right in the face and said, “So the question is: what are you?”

---

i may have lied >.>

#no spoilers in the tags #gemshipping #angel/demon au #bakura #bakura ryou #ryou bakura #thief king bakura #tkb #angel!ryou #demon!bakura #yugioh #fanfiction #writing #wip

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yandere-daydreams · 3 years

Text

Twelve Days of Christmas - Day Three

Prompt: Snow

Pairing: Yandere!Dabi/Reader (BNHA)

TW: Afab!Reader, Non-Con, Semi-Public Sex, Kidnapping/Imprisonment, Mentions of Hypothermia, Mentions of Death, Physical Abhse, Disassociation, and Slight Victim-Blaming.

You couldn’t feel your fingertips.

It was strange that, above all else, that was what your mind chose to linger on. Not the blue tint of your lips, not the blood rushing past your ears, but the numbness in your hands, how hard it was to feel the dull pain as your nails dug into the ice. You couldn’t feel your feet, either, everything going vague and fuzzy below the ankle, but that didn’t seem as important. Even if you were able to run, you probably wouldn’t get the chance to, and even if you got the chance to, Dabi would never let you get very far. The same should’ve gone for fighting back, for clawing at his throat and his eyes until he got annoyed enough to let you go, but that wasn’t an option, either, not with your knees buried in the snowbank, your jacket discarded somewhere in the surrounding forest and your shirt pulled around your wrists, keeping you more restrained than you needed to be. Not with Dabi bent over you, his arm around your waist and his fingers tangled in your hair, forcing your cheek against the frozen ground. That was going numb, too, but you were starting to think of it as more of a blessing than a curse.

The less you could feel, the better. It’d help with what came next.

You’d begged him not to strip you completely. Bargained, pleaded, said whatever you’d had to just to keep a scrap of warmth, just to hold on to the idea that you’d be able to get through the next few hours without the threat odf hypothermia looming over your head. Dabi didn’t seem to hold a similar concern. You could feel his bare chest pressed against your back, exposed and scalding to the touch, and despite everything, you weren't cold enough to block out the feeling of his cock, yet, of your own slick dripping down your thighs. It must’ve been his quirk providing that constant, uncomfortable heat, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be thankful for the small mercy. Not if it came from him. Not if you knew it was for his entertainment, not your survival.

That was the worst part. He was enjoying this, and he was enjoying it because you weren’t. He didn’t try to hide the way he smirked every time you lost the strength to shiver, and he’d never been kind enough to be gentle, to try to hold himself back as he buried his teeth into your shoulder and dug his fingertips into your hip until you were sure there’d be bruises, tomorrow. It hurt, but at the same time, it didn’t. There was pain, but it wasn’t really your pain, a sensation forced to a bearable distance by a layer of armor you didn’t really had. Your mind was getting so hazy, too, and your body felt so heavy, even if you weren’t the one holding it up. For a moment, it seemed like you’d be able to close your eyes, like you’d be able to relax if you just—

“Still awake, brat?” The question would’ve been enough on its own, spit through gritted teeth in that raspy drawl, but Dabi felt the need to dig the heel of his palm into your neck, to grind against the same, sadistic spot until you were whimpering and clenching around him. The snow underneath you felt harder than it should’ve been, more solid, but you forced yourself to nod regardless, the motion nearly too stilted to be recognizable. If Dabi noticed, though, he didn’t seem to care. One second, you were cold, and the next you were burning, biting back a scream as his hand ripped itself away from your hair and clamped around your thigh, instead, his touch just hot enough to scar. “Answer,” He demanded, calmly enough make it seem like he didn’t see how violently you were shaking underneath him. To make you think you might’ve been imagining the hints of amusement in his voice, as he went on. “You wanted to come outside, right? ‘d be a shame if you blacked out so soon.”

You had wanted that. You couldn’t really remember asking, but it sounded like something you’d do after being trapped in Dabi’s apartment for so many months. You’d probably thought anything would be better than another day, another hour spent staring at the same grey walls, a collar around your neck and your only source of company the same villain who kidnapped you. You’d asked before, but he’d never said yes. You were beginning to wish he hadn’t this time, too. “I… I think so,” You tried, your voice muffled by sleet. “I-It’s so cold, I can’t really—”

You couldn’t finish. Dabi didn’t seem to want you to. His pace didn’t speed up, maintaining that same selfish tempo, but he finally seemed to focus, finally seemed to want this to end. Acidic air hitched in your lungs as two calloused fingers dropped to your clit, drawing rough, uneven circles in sensitive bundle of nerves, and it took more strength that it should’ve to keep your legs open as his cock twitched inside of you, to keep from crying out every time he thrust and it felt like he was trying to fuck your cervix rather than your cunt. If you’d been able to think, it might’ve hurt. If you’d been able to feel it, really feel it, you might’ve been on the brink of tears, by now. But, half buried in snow, so far from anyone who could’ve helped, it was all you could do to hide your face in your arms and force yourself to be thankful it might be over soon.

“You’re cold.” He was growling, now, his attention obviously elsewhere, but his temper flaring just enough to give him that low edge, that abrupt force that left you shaking your head and shrinking into yourself, that left him more rough, more careless, chasing after his own pleasure and dragging you towards yours, in the process. “That’s not a very nice thing to say, is it? I mean, I went through all the effort of planning somethin’ so romantic,” He paused, grunting as his hips slotted against yours, as the sound of skin against skin made lips part and something jagged cement its place in your throat. “And you’re gonna let bad weather get in the way? I can say I’m not hurt, dollface.”

You almost apologized. It was a reflex, at this point, an instinct that helped you stay on the right side of his aggressive habits, but a high, pitchy whine cut you off, a sound you hadn’t even realized you needed to make until it was already off your tongue. You might’ve screamed. You might’ve sobbed. You might’ve done both, because for a brief, blissful second, all you could feel was warmth, tight and soothing, blocking out the world around you before sending you crashing back into it. Dabi let out a string of swears under his breath, his bunt nails biting into your flesh, and then he was letting you go, watching as you collapsed under your own weight, his cum still leaking from your slit. The cold was surrounding you, again, white flooding your vision and making your eyes sting, but you couldn’t stop yourself from sighing, you couldn’t fend off the wave of relief soon washing over you. He was done. You could go home, now. You’d be trapped, there, but at least you’d be trapped and warm.

Unfortunately, Dabi wasn’t as fond of that plan as you were.

“You’re lucky you’ve got such a good boyfriend,” He scoffed, fully recovered from his momentary loss of composure. There was a nudge to your side, a chapped kiss to your temple, a slight tug that left you lying on your back, the chill prying its way into your back like a thousand tiny, tortuous needles, all prodding at the same slab of dead meat.

That left Dabi, above you, his grin so much worse than it seemed to be, before.

“Stay still, alright? I promise, this part will really warm you up.”

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sword-brainrot · 3 years

Note

I’m super glad to see you back and that requests are open. ^^ If it isn’t to much to ask, could I maybe get some relationship headcanons for Kogi and Kuwana (separately)? Welcome back and remember to take as much time as you need with requests! Lord knows life can get hectic and creators block can act up. So just be kind to yourself and go with the flow. ^^ 💜

I’m so glad to be back! It’s been a lot of fun writing since coming back. It’s also been super nice to have such kind people, like yourself, rooting for me and letting me it’s okay to take breaks! So thank you so much for the request and such kind words! ❤️

I hope these headcanons makes you smile!

Kogitsunemaru and Kuwana Gou Relationship Headcanons (GN Reader)!

♡ Kogitsunemaru is a very affectionate and loyal fox. Even before the two of you date and become a thing. He doesn't shy away from physical touch and actually really prefers it. It is the easiest way for him to get across his truest feelings. Every touch is gently and full of love. He does have a bad temper deep inside that he hides away but they would never come out towards you or grab you harshly. He would never be able to forgive himself if he accidentally hurt you.

♡ Kogitsunemaru does have a special spot that just makes him automatically relax, and that's his hair. If you play with his hair or brush it, he is putty in your hands. His eyes will close and he will lean back in your gentle, soothing motions. All his worries slipping away from him as the world begins to just shape around the two of you.

♡ He will also love to do anything with your hair! If you wish to him to wash, brush, or style it! He will feel so honored that you trust him so much to take care of your hair. Kogitsunemaru treasures hair very much. Not just his own. He will often comment how silky his fur is and how he often needs to groom it. In his mind, if you keep your fur(hair) clean and well kempt, you are a very good person in his mind. Also means he often shys away from those that do not take proper care of their fur(hair).

♡ He enjoys laying on your lap as you softly stroke his fur. That is his favorite spot in the whole world. It's probably the fox part of him that transferred over in his human sword form. Affection like that just fills his heart with joy and he does not care who sees. Kogi will be overjoyed to have your attention and a permanent smile on his face as he enjoys your touch.

♡ The last thing he really enjoys, other than you, is fried tofu. You can very easily have him on the fence about something and wave some fried tofu in front of his face and his brain waves suddenly just stops. He will agree to almost anything as long as you have that in your possession. It is a double edge sword, however. He will be so happy that you made/got that for him and follow anything you say... but it also doesn't last long. He will sneak into the kitchen when no one is looking and start to munch on all the fried tofu in the citadel. It does not last long as long as Kogitsunemaru and Nakigitsune are around. The foxes are ferocious about fried tofu.

♡ It is very easy to tease this poor fox as well. He leaves his heart on his sleeve. The swords will often use it against him. They will mention how someone has the most beautiful eyes in the citadel and just wait until Kogitsunemaru suddenly sighs and goes, "Ah, Nushi-sama."

♡ They all give him a teasing smile and just look at him as he realizes what he just said and blushes. He doesn't talk to them after and avoids them. It's normally Mikazuki...

♡ Your relationship would never be able to keep in secret because Kogitsunemaru is way too much in love with you and lets it slip any chance there is. He is complimenting you to your face and behind your back. He can't help it! You are just perfect to him!

♡ Big fan of petnames! He loves to call you sir, dear, miss, sweetheart, or my beloved.

♡ If you are ever upset/have things on your mind, Kogitsunemaru will offer to dance for you. He will do a traditional dance and may even tell a story through it. Anything to take your mind off whatever is bothering you. He may even tell you the story of how the fox spirit found the sword smith and he came to be since it was a popular folk story told through dance and plays.

♡ If you prefer to be held instead, he would have no problem with that at all. He will often times open his arms to you while he is sitting just in case you want to sit in his lap instead. His arms naturally wrap around you in a very protective manner, no matter where you two are.

♡ At night he enjoys when you lay your head on his chest so he can stroke your hair as the two of you slowly drift off to sleep but if you want to be held more, he will have you sleep on top of him and just hug you tightly to him as you sleep. He won't let any bad thoughts get to you! His name might mean small but there is a reason they gave him a strong body as a human, and that is to protect the one he loves the most.

♡ Kuwana is a very quirky person, to say the least. He will say things that will not exactly make sense to you and he will not explain what he means by it. You will have to be very understanding and accepting towards him. He is a very gentle person who thinks everything he says makes total sense. So when he tells you that the soil/earth told him something, you will just have to roll with it.

♡ Unlike Kogitsunemaru, who praises cleanliness, Kuwana is the total opposite of that. It isn't like he wishes to everyone to be covered in dirt (maybe) but you will see him all dirty often. The only time you will see him completely clean will be after a bath and right in the early morning before he goes outside. That will be the only time. Sometimes he will forget to take a bath, so please remind him!

♡ He is a very big workaholic. Mostly with farming. You will not see him most days due to him being so invested in his craft and working hours on end. If you wish to spend time with him, you will have to go find him instead of the other way around. Honestly, even when you get out there, he may not notice you right away. He is constantly tending to the field and talking to the soil. If you offer to help, he will gladly accept your help and teach you everything he knows.

♡ Kuwana is someone who keeps to himself often and doesn't talk much unless talked to first but you will see him overzealous when he begins to explain everything about agriculture and tells you every little detail about any plant or flower you may take interest in. A smile on his face and he will ramble hours on end. He is just so excited that someone is taking interest in his hobby. This is what really gets him to start to open up to you.

♡ As the two of you start to get close, he will make groundless threats towards you if you tease him too much. If you happen to poke him too much to get his attention, he may say something along the lines of; "Ugh... if you happen to wake up tomorrow morning buried up to your neck in the dirt, don't blame me". He would never actually do it but it is just to throw you off your guard. Sometimes small things just happen to get under his skin a little and he jokes it off with a small threat. Don't be scared, he really is like a big teddy bear and would never harm you.

♡ Sometimes, Kuwana will not show up for dinner. If you go searching for him, you will always find him in the field under a tree, fast asleep. Sometimes the sun gets to him too much and he ends up taking a nap after he finishes most of his work. He is a pretty heavy sleeper when he is totally relaxed in nature. Be sure to wake him up gently. He will either wake up rather easily to you and tell you good morning, not even noticing the moon now in the sky. Or, if he is still very tired, might pull you down with him and cuddle with you. Congrats, you are now cuddling with a very tall teddy bear... and also covered in dirt!

♡ Kuwana doesn't mind physical affection that much. He doesn't initiate affection too often but isn't opposite to it either. Most likely he will take you out on a picnic date and hold your hand as the two of you adventure off into the forest.

♡ He is a great cook! Especially with fruits and vegetables. He will learn anything you like to eat and prepare it for you to show that he listens to you even if he doesn't say too much. He will make sure to get it just as you like it so he can see you smile.

♡ If you don't know how to make flower crowns, he will teach you! He will make you a flower crown of all your favorite flowers (or the flowers he thinks match you the most if you don't have a favorite), and he will proudly wear the crown you make, even if you may not think it is the best.

♡ He will show all his brothers after the date with a smile. "Look at what Y/N made me". He will wear it as long as he can because he treasures it a lot.

♡ It is not a surprise that Kuwana is very strong physically but he will not act it. Every touch will be gentle. However, he will easily lift you with ease. Often times putting you on his shoulders when the two of you are alone and hanging out.

♡ He isn't just gentle with you but also with other creatures. He loves animals and will feed them when he has alone time. He also really likes insects. If you are scared of them, he will quickly take them outside so you don't even see them. He doesn't want them to scare you!

♡ Kuwana might not know exactly how to express his feelings towards you because he doesn't give too much verbal affection towards anyone but will subtly compliment you. "The soil says that you are very pretty and the soil would never lie."

♡ He also eats soil, please stop him if you see him trying to eat the dirt.

#Touken Ranbu #Touken Danshi #Tourabu #Touken Ranbu Headcanons #Touken Ranbu Imagines #Touken Ranbu x Reader #TKRB #TKRB Headcanons #TKRB Imagines #TKRB x Reader #Kogitsunemaru #Kogitsunemaru x Reader #Kuwana Gou #Kuwana Gou x Reader

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fandom-blackhole · 3 years

Text

Sinful Sunday

AN: Oh boy....guys, I just want to say that this month has left me very frustrated, and I apologize for the first THOT, but at the same time, I am not sorry because at least to me it is VERY hot. Anyway, I hope this week treats you all well, and I hope this week goes smoothly for me, but if you all hear screaming and dull thuds, it's just me bashing my head in trying not to kill someone :). Love you all, and!!!! We hit 666 followers last night so this week we will be doing supernatural asks starting today until Friday!!! Thank you all!!

Pairings: Modern!Boba Fett x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader

Sinful Sunday Masterlist

Boba Fett x Reader

This is ENTIRELY self-indulgent, and completely revolves around how my work is gonna go, and how I wish a certain bounty hunter would come and give me some stress relief…

This job was going to be the death of you. Wait no, a select few high school students and your asshole supervisor were going to be the death of you. When you signed up to supervise this summer program you had not expected it to go so far south. Hell, you'd been in the program when you were in high school and it was never this bad, so why was it your luck that it was when you were on the adult side of things that everything just went by the wayside.

When you were in the program all of the adults got along, the head never accused the others of being rude, targeting the students, or being power-hungry like yours was now. When you were in the program, sure there was drama, I mean its high school students what did you expect, but never this bad, and never in multiple different groups, it was usually one, but now it seemed like all but five of the students were at each other's throats for one thing or another. And honestly, if it were up to you at this point, you'd be getting paid more for doing your supervisor's job for him, and you wouldn't be going on the end of the month trip, but you had to go on the trip to get paid and there was no way you were going to be getting more money at this point.

It was fine though, you only had to work with that asshole prick and with the students for 5 more days… 24/5…. before you were home free….to start prepping for university. You know what, this adult ingredient thing is not your cup of tea and you wanted out, fuck.

The first day of the trip went relatively ok, you only had to yell at the boys a couple of hundred times, and pop several headache pills while your supervisor continued to avoid his job, but you know, it could be worse. When you got to the hotel, you were all but dead on your feet, and the thought of having to be up at an ungodly hour the next morning had you groaning, but collecting your room key from your head boss with a smile anyway.

What you hadn't expected was one of the girls' meltdown, nor when you were tiredly trying to calm her and keep your temper at bay for her to shove you hard, and while on already unsteady feet to stumble backward and trip over a foot and start to fall. You gasped and reached out to catch yourself, as well as the foot's owner grabbing you, resulting in a very awkward position of you grabbing the man's suit jacket, while he held you in what looked to be a very low dip, almost like the two of you had been dancing.

You immediately felt heat rise in your face as your eyes widened in shock and you started apologizing all over yourself as you righted yourself and bent over to grab your bag. The stranger just laughed and steadied you, before pushing your chin to look at him saying, "It’s fine, little one, no harm done. Don't worry about it, you seem to have your hands full already."

As he finished speaking, he motioned his head over to where two of the three of your head bosses were talking to the girl that shoved you, and the third was walking over to check on you. They said your name and asked frantically, "Are you alright? We are taking care of the situation, feel free to sit down if you need to."

"I'm fine, I promise. Mr….."

"Fett, Boba Fett," the stranger supplied and reached over to shake your boss' hand, and much to your shame you couldn't help but gulp at how Mr. Fett's hand dwarfed your bosses. Clearing your throat you smiled at your boss as they nodded and left, and continued, "Mr. Fett so graciously, saved me from the fall I would have had onto these stone floors," then turning to Mr. Fett, you smiled at him, your breath catching in your throat as your eyes made contact with his swirling eyes that reminded you of the enticing smoky quartz you had at home, "Thank you very much, Mr. Fett, I am more thankful for your quick reflexes than I can express."

"Please, Mr. Fett was my father, Boba is quite alright, and you don't need to thank me, I would have felt guilty if I had not been able to catch you in time."

“Well still, Mr,” as you started Mr. Fett narrowed his eyes at you with a glint in his eyes, that made you smile and look down, “Boba, thank you.”

With that, you looked up and met his eyes one last time, before nodding and walking away, flushing from head to toe as you walked into the elevator and turned to find him still watching you with a smile. Once the doors finally shut you let out a shuddering breath and wrapped your arms around yourself as you waited for your floor. You weren’t sure if it was the stress you had been under this past month, or if it was a good-looking man saving you from getting injured, but you couldn’t get Boba Fett’s face or voice out of your mind. You should really blame being so touch starved for the way you replayed the way he had looked at you, his eyes aglow with something that was more than just friendly, from the way your mind rolled over the way his lips had spoken each rumbling word, and as you walked into your room and collapsed back onto the bed your groaned knowing that tonight it was going to be hard not to touch yourself to the thought of the man who had been nothing but kind to you.

It wasn’t until later, as you were saying good night to your colleagues and your bosses after taping the students’ doors for the night that you saw him again. You had been headed to your room, listening to each of the rooms as you passed making sure none of the kids were being loud or making too much noise. You were so caught up in listening, that you again ran into Boba, and as you apologized and looked up you felt the flush from earlier returning to your face.

“Mr. Fett I am so sorry! I should have been paying attention to where I was walking!”

“Little one, what did I tell you, you only have to call me Boba,” he waited until you nodded, before tilting your chin up with his finger again and continued, “Good, now tell me. Are you done working for the night?”

His gaze was engulfing and made your mouth go dry, stealing all the words from your mouth so you only nodded, and melted when Boba’s lips turned up into a smile. Then, surprising you, even more, he leaned down and sealed your lips together in a consuming kiss that stole your breath and pulled a whimper out of you. When Boba pulled back from the kiss, he didn’t move far, staying close enough, that his lips brushed yours as he spoke.

“Little one, I have to say that I have been thinking about you since I saw you, even before you literally fell for me,” he chuckled as he pressed another kiss to your lips, before saying, “and I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t ask. Little one, I would love to treat you right tonight, if you would let me?”

The second the words left his lips, your eyes shot open, not having realized they had fallen closed in the soft moment. Only when they were open, you found Boba’s eye burning with desire and a promise that had you shuddering out a yes, before your brain could even process what was happening. You, in a daze, lead him to your room and keyed in, as he crowded you against the door, as Boba’s lips graced along your neck and he ground his hardening cock against your ass.

The second the door opened, Boba had you pushed against the floor-length mirror hung on the wall not far from the door. It didn’t take long at all for him to have you a panting mess as he alternated between nipping at your jaw, whispering about how good you looked in his arms earlier, and kissing you senseless. You moaned his name softly as one of his hands pushed underneath your shirt and squeezed your nipple through the thin fabric of your sports bra, before pulling the shirt off altogether and shedding his suit jacket and sharp green tie.

The two of you were all hands, groping at each other and tearing fabric away as quickly as possible while sharing moans and groans through kisses. Boba had consumed your thoughts, to the point where you couldn’t even worry about your volume and the fact that your coworker may hear you through the wall. No, the only thing you were worried about, was the fact that you were so worked up that your hands couldn’t even undo Boba’s belt as you continued to fumble with it as Boba had you already stripped to your panties and was leaving red marks all along your shoulders.

Finally, when you gave of a pitiful needy whine, Boba pulled back, and with almost completely black eyes from lust ordered you to turn around. The second you did as you were told, you flushed at the sight that greeted you. In the mirror, you saw the way your lips were red and shiny from all the kisses you had shared and from how Boba had nipped at your bottom lip. You saw how hungry your eyes looked and how wet you felt looking at the tiny bruises Boba had put on your shoulders where only you would see. Then, you looked over your shoulder and found Boba watching you in your needy state, making direct eye contact with you as you heard him fisting his cock and rubbing it while just watching you in the mirror.

“Bend over, princess. Let me see that pretty pussy of yours.”

Moaning you did as you were told, even wiggling your ass a little in an attempt to get him to move quicker, which only resulted in Boba grabbing a handful of your ass before growling out quietly, “Patience, princess, be patient.”

Then he was pulling your panties to the side with a drawn-out groan as he took the middle finger of his other hand, and swiped it through your wet folds, and shoved it into your hungry walls. He growled out a few obscenities as he started to earnestly fuck his finger up into you, watching as your mouth dropped open into an O and you gave out tiny moans and pushed back onto his finger. Then he was pressing a second finger inside of you and you felt your eyes roll upwards as you moaned out, “Yes yes yes yes, please, don’t stop, of fuck, yesssssss.”

Boba grinned in the mirror and kept fucking up into you, making sure to scissor out his fingers to open your tight walls up to fit his cock. He watched as you climbed higher and higher, gushing around his fingers and sucking them back in with each thrust. He loved watching your face in the mirror, watching each twitch and facial expression of pleasure he was bringing you. And he more than enjoyed knowing, from the look on your face alone just how close you were to peeking. It was when you tightened impossibly around his fingers that he knew you were right on the precipice of cumming, and he quickly yanked his fingers out, nearly cumming himself from the downright needy and torn moan you gave him when he robbed you of your orgasm.

“Don’t worry, little one, you’ll get to cum, but only when this pussy is wrapped around my cock.”

Then you heard him tear open a wrapper, looking up to see the condom wrapper in between his teeth as he rolled it over his cock, before spitting the wrapper away and making eye contact with you as he rubbed himself along your entrance, “Are you ready, princess? I’ll warn you, I am much bigger than my fingers.”

You just whimpered and nodded, only being able to think about how much you needed him inside you, how much you wanted him to stretch your walls. Boba smirked and wrapped one hand along your waist while he guided his cock inside of you, sinking in about halfway, before pulling out and thrusting back in. And he was right, he was MUCH larger than his fingers, you swore he was spreading you to your limit, but it still felt so good. By the time he was fully seated inside of you, and you could feel his open zipper and open belt along your ass and thighs, you just needed him to move, desperate for the friction and pleasure that his cock could bring you, so you ground back into him. Boba responded by pulling out until his cock head was the only thing still inside of you, before slamming back in and setting a brutal pace.

Your hands splayed out on the mirror, needing them there to help you keep your balance as Boba’s powerful thrusts slammed into you, pushing you so that your head almost hit the mirror and your breath fogged up the mirror with every moan of his name. It was all almost too much, and your eyes slipped closed trying to focus on the rocking thrusts that were inching you closer and closer to that familiar edge but Boba was having none of that. He grabbed the back of your neck, never halting his pace, and pull you up against his stomach saying, “Open those eyes, little one. I want you to watch yourself as I wreck this perfect body of yours. I want you to see what you look like when I give you an orgasm no one else can, while I give you pleasure nobody else ever will.”

Moaning you cracked your eyes open and made eye contact with Boba, watching as he sunk his teeth into your shoulder and groped at your chest, pulling one of your breasts free as he impaled you on his cock over and over. In this new position, Boba was angled just right to brush against that devastating spot inside of you the one that had you throwing your head back and clawing at Boba’s thighs as you balanced on the edge of cumming. Only falling over that edge, when Boba’s free hand moved down and he circled your clit with two fingers a few times and growled, “Cum for me princess.”

And you did. You came hard, and with a breathless scream of Boba’s name. You clenched down tightly around him, your walls pulsating as he continued thrusting deep inside of you and playing with your clit dragging out your high before you felt Boba’s cock twitch a few times and he gave a few shallow thrusts with a curse.

You both stilled after that, Boba resting his head on the back of your neck and your head resting against your chest as you tried to catch your breath with his slowly softening cock still buried inside of you. When you both finally came back to yourselves, Boba pulled out completely and whispered, “Come on, little one, let’s take a shower and then get you to bed.”

“Mmmm, you’ll stay? Just until I fall asleep?”

“Anything for you princess, anything for you.”

Commander Fox x Reader

I haven't written Fox in a while, so I figured I'd indulge myself with a soft little drabble for him…

Fox was tired, no past tired, he was exhausted. He was past being able to function on caf alone, and to the point that he had actually listened when Thorn had sent him away telling him to rest and eat something. But as much as he had listened to his brother, he had also ignored him, and instead of going to rest or find something nutritional, he had instead made the trek across the city to you. He knew it was late, and you had no doubt been in bed asleep for several hours, but with being away from you for days on end after the newest attack on the senate, he knew that he would not be sleeping unless it was curled against your side.

It was easy to slip past the security of your building, especially since he'd down it on multiple occasions and once while drunk. He reminded himself once again, to send in an anonymous request for better security around the building, ask he climbed into the elevator and made his way to your floor. He wasn't sure if he had fallen asleep on the ride, but he seemed to arrive sooner than usual, and he stumbled out walking right to your door and putting in your code with a smile, having known the four digit code longer than it had been your apartment code, having had the number been assigned to him as a child before you took it and made it your own.

He only paused at the door for a second to listen and make sure you were asleep, and his sneaking in had not woke you. After confirming you were still asleep, he careful pulled the armor from his body, it having been a weighted burden for days now, and setting it aside on the floor of your living room, before walking towards the bedroom. He knew for a fact, if he wanted, he could walk this apartment in his sleep, not entirely sure that isn't what he was doing right now.

Only, he paused again as he reached the bedroom, taking in your sleeping face that was lit by the soft glow of the bright lights shining through your bedroom curtains. Fox knew he could watch you like this for hours, you looked so soft it made his heart stutter. So carefree and free of the stress you held during the day. Your fave completely relaxed, nose occasionally scrunching up as you dreamed, and letting out soft mumbles that were indecipherable, but never failed to bring a smile to his face.

Eventually Fox did crawl into bed behind you, and relaxed only when you pressed up against him, and in your sleep, sighed out his name. It was in that moment that he wished more than anything to just pause time and hold you like this until the end of the galaxy.

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