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cozyquinn · 2 years

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Sorry, Sweetheart

warnings: 18+ smut ahead, minors DNI. No established timeframe, but Eddie and reader are in an established relationship (one that has elements of a Dom/sub arrangement), Dom!Eddie x fem!reader, NO use of Y/N

trigger warnings for: pet names (Kitten, baby), also name calling in degredation (whore, slut), mention of a safe word, physical sadism, Dom/sub elements and use of terms alluding to that (Sir), p in v intercourse, spanking with hand and implements, aftercare at the end! Please let me know if you find any others, but also note that this list is not exhaustive- please consume content safely and cautiously!

This is my first work, please be gentle! That said, any and all feedback is hugely welcomed and appreciated!

It was a usual Friday night; Wayne was out for work, you were propped up in Eddie's bed flipping through an old book, and Eddie was caressing 'Sweetheart' with a loving dote you'd come to silently envy. Now, there was no denying that Eddie tended to your needs and handled you with as much care (and not so much) as Sweetheart, but without real distraction to keep your mind busy, your eyes glared toward the striking guitar perched in Eddie's lap, willing the strings to snap away from the smooth neck in Eddie's grasp.

You'd spent the evening trying to get Eddie's attention to no avail; he drowned out your humming and directed coughs with a heavier strum on the metal strings, thrown a simple "almost done, baby" your way when you sighed and asked how much longer he'd be.

You'd even tried your luck with ridding yourself of all clothes bar your panties, and perching yourself on his lap. Your knees knocked as you wriggled and manoeuvred into his eyeline, the bounce of your breasts calling out to him. To that, he simply gave you a signature smile and a gentle rub to your back whilst he not-so-subtly repositioned to get a better hold on the red and black vixen taunting you from his lap.

You knew the rules: you were not to touch Sweetheart without permission. You knew not to cross that boundary, and knew even better how failing to comply would end, but you'd had enough.

With a frustrated groan, you shifted slightly in Eddie's lap and carelessly grabbed the neck of the guitar as it half-pinned you against Eddie's chest, attempting to remove it from Eddie's hold.

Without missing a beat, Eddie had lifted the both of you to your feet, paying extra mind to gently place Sweetheart down on the bed; his other hand roughly grabbed at your hair and painfully twisted until he had a fist secured against your scalp.

You froze.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, huh? You know the rules, I thought I taught you better than that, kitten." You could do little more than whimper as you lifted yourself on tiptoes to meet his pull on your hair. His collarbone harshly met your right ear and he turned his face with a fanning breath against your temple, whispering a vile promise as you struggled in his grasp. A small giggle slipped past your tongue before you could stop it.

A mistake.

"You're going to regret that, slut", and with a harsh bite to your neck, Eddie released your hair with a shove, sending you down onto the matted rug beside the bed.

You took a second to collect yourself silently -knowing better than to make a sound- before shifting to kneel at his feet, your scared gaze meeting his emotionless eyes as they stared down at you. A swat of his foot against your thigh reminded you of your manners, as you quickly placed your hands on your lap, palms spread open and facing up towards the ceiling.

With a low hum, Eddie circled you as you fought to keep your gaze straight forward, knowing you'd be scolded otherwise. A few paces more and Eddie pivoted towards his dresser, yanking at the handle to open up the drawer you knew promised only pain for you.

Eddie's eyes scanned over the various items set out in the drawer; the belt deemed too typical, the paddle too wide to get the point across, while the riding crop brought a wicked smile to Eddie's face.

With a quick jab at the drawer to close it, Eddie turned to you, his eyes glanced down at your exposed palms, tormenting you with a swat to the air with the crop. As he approached you, your eyes flinched closed for a second as you braced for the sharp sting you had acquainted yourself with a few times before.

Instead, you felt the gentle caress of the pad of leather against your cheek as Eddie lazily toyed with his weapon of choice. Forcing back the shiver fighting to release itself through your body, you flinched as Eddie's sharp tone broke through the silence of the room, barking at you to twist on your knees to face the bed.

Once situated, the crop was brought down onto your thigh, the edge of it catching your awaiting palm. Eddie's grip on your hair stilled your wince, his lips ghosting your ear as his lips spilled venomous words.

"Jealous of a pretty little guitar are we, slut? Pretty pathetic, don't you think?" His words somehow hurting more than the sting of the crop, sending a chill down your spine as you swallowed the lump forming in your throat and your face burned from embarrassment. The rhetorical question left unanswered as Eddie smirked at the redness dwelling on your cheeks.

You had little time to wallow as Eddie gave his orders, "Stay still and keep those palms spread. No counting today, brat. Instead, you're going to apologise to little Sweetheart here with every hit. You miss one, I start again. If I see those palms even start to close, I start again. You got it?" With a small nod, you bit your cheek as the first snap of the crop met your right palm.

A small wince and a quiet "sorry, Sweetheart" began a succession of harsh thwacks to your palms, leaving behind marks that would surely welt. The tenth hit elicited a small whimper, one that Eddie chose to ignore, as he brought your aching palms to his lips to place soothing kisses to the abused skin; a small glimpse of your Eddie, to praise and encourage you.

Soft brown eyes stared into yours as Eddie mumbled a gentle "colour, baby?" into your ear. All it took was an enthusiastic squeak of "green" and a small smile from you to darken those light brown eyes to pools of black and the grip on your wrist to tighten. His other hand beckoned you up from the floor, small stings left in the wake of the rug that scorched at your knees, as he held your wrists steady you as you adjusted to your feet.

The shiver of excitement that travelled down your spine was harshly subdued by the booming voice to the right of you. "We're not done here" accompanied a harsh shove to your back as your knees met the edge of the bed, digging uncomfortably into the frame as you held yourself there whilst Eddie gently repositioned Sweetheart in her pride of place with a taunting smirk on his face aimed at you.

Returning to you, Eddie wordlessly ripped your panties down your legs until they met the bend of your knees, a slap to your arse urged you to kick them off and position yourself on all fours on the bed. Eddie stepped back; a small growl left his chest before heat rushed up to the tip of your ears at the demand barked at you from behind.

"Present yourself to me properly, slut. Have I not taught you well enough? Or are you just plain stupid?" His stinging words had tears brimming your eyes.

You shifted to widen your legs apart with a mumbled "sorry Sir", your left cheek pressed to the mattress and your hands grasped at your arse cheeks to spread yourself; leaving you completely under the scrutiny of Eddie's darkened glare, and utterly vulnerable to his wrath.

You barely heard the taunting "much better" leave his lips, the sound of his jeans zipper reverberated around the room, the ruffle of denim and the snap of underwear elastic following suit.

You felt a warm calloused hand grab at the swell of your arse, roughly kneading as you felt his warm breath fan across your entrance and the nudge of his nose against your skin. The cold bit at where Eddie's hand had been on your arse as he pulled away, only to bring it back down with force; a warm sting in the shape of his palm gracing your skin.

"You're lucky I'm in a good mood."

You released a breath you hadn't realised you were holding.

A calloused thumb roughly met your clit without warning and you lurched forward with a gasp, the tight grip on your hip preventing you from escaping. The circling of Eddie's thumb grew quicker as your whimpers grew louder, the tip of Eddie's dripping cock tapping your entrance had you edging backwards to gain friction, eliciting an unapproving noise from Eddie.

"You going to be a good girl and show me that you've learnt your lesson?" A small nod and a moan from you were all it took for Eddie to press the head of his cock to your entrance, grabbing your wrists and binding them together with his hands as he steadied himself.

Eddie tightened his hold on you, spreading his fingers to reach up your forearms, using his grip to force your body back onto him, your pussy sucking him in with an embarrassing squelch.

"So fucking wet, all for me? Like being put in your place, huh slut?" You could only let out a pathetic whine in response as Eddie found a rhythm in his thrusts, one hand reached up to wrap your hair around his fist, tugging back harshly.

"I asked you a question." The venom in his voice had your knees buckling underneath you and a gush of arousal seeped out of your entrance and down Eddie's shaft.

You shrunk in on yourself as a pathetic "y-yes Sir" left your lips, seemingly enough to satiate Eddie for now. A harsh thrust sent a guttural moan spilling over your tongue, your pussy clenching tightly around Eddie's cock as he tightened the hold on your hair; the leverage allowing him to bring your back flush against his chest and pound mercilessly into you.

"Ah, fuck" Eddie's composure dropped for a second as you continued to tighten around him, your rushed gasps and the rapid rise and fall of your chest telling him that you were close. He regained composure as his thrusts became harsher. The tip of his cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, bending you to his will even more.

"You want to cum, Kitten? Think you deserve to cum on my dick?" Nodding uncontrollably, moans broke through the sound of skin slapping skin and the wet squelch of your arousal. You felt a rough thumb meet your clit once again, bullying the bundle of nerves as a white heat threatened to spread through you.

"Use your manners, ask nicely" you could hear the smirk on his face as your panting quickened, and you thrusted your hips back to meet his thrusts with urgency.

"Please Sir, please. Need to cum, been so good. Need you to cum in me". The words tumbled out of you, rambling as you felt yourself about to burst.

"So desperate for me to claim you, huh? Go on, Kitten. Cum for me" Your fists tightened in Eddie's grip, the sting from your welted palms helping to send you over the edge.

A shrill scream of Eddie's name broke through your chest and out of your mouth; a gush pouring over Eddie's dick with the same urgency. His thrusts became sloppier as he lowered your weight back onto the bed, tensing as you felt the delicious throb of his cock inside you, his seed painting your insides.

Stilling his hips, Eddie gently loosened the grip on your wrists, laying them gently next to your head as you regained your breath. The loving glide of his fingertips against the soft skin of your back coaxed you back to him from your hazy headspace. He gently pulled out, soothing you with a kiss to your spine when you gasped at the emptiness.

"C'mere, pretty baby" Eddie caressed your arms, cheeks, anywhere he could reach as he helped you into a laying position. His eyes wandered over you to check for unseen bruises or scrapes as he placed small kisses on your pressure points as he went. His weight shifted the mattress as he settled himself next to you, gently lifting your upper half to rest on his chest.

A gentle flurry of words left Eddie's mouth as you traced your lips along his chest, up his neck and over his lips: his doting reassurances and questions of "you did so well for me, such a good girl", "show me your hands, do they hurt too much?", "you feeling okay?" filled your heart with a warm buzz as your body began to still from the adrenaline still coursing through your body.

"I'm okay, Eds. M'sorry for touching Sweetheart without asking". The chime of Eddie's gentle laugh filled the room as he nuzzled into your neck, his tangled curls tickling your cheek.

"S'okay baby. I'm sorry, too, for not paying attention to you" Eddie's gentle voice lulled over you in reassurance, his arms encasing you as you played with his hair. The room fell into comfortable silence after Eddie's promise of cleaning and patching you up after snuggling, your eyes silently falling on Sweetheart as you smiled softly.

#dom!eddie #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #sadist!eddie munson #masochist!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic

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the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years

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The Fundamentals of Gendrya

So I just want to establish the possible foreshadowing Arya and Gendry have that hints at a possible romantic relationship in the future, as well as the romantic undertones present in their story. I’m not really going to focus on symbolism in this meta (although it will come up a couple of times in a minor way), as that will be a focus for future meta. This is only meant to establish the fundamental basics.

First I want to say that when I’m talking about the romantic possibility of Gendrya, I mean future Gendrya, as in once Arya is older. However I will posit and say that because we are viewing this in the world of Westeros (in a pseudo Medieval world that GRRM exaggerated and sensationalized from real Medieval sources as well as rumor) and because GRRM has established he has no problems with placing his younger characters in romantic or sexual situations (see Mercy TWOW) I think it would be remiss to think GRRM would not take Arya and Gendry here if that was his plan all along. After all, there is plenty of precedent.

This also leads me to remind everyone that Gendry is not an adult when he meets Arya, and the age gap between the two is one of the least egregious age gaps in the books as most of the age gaps are between adult men in their 20’s and 30’s with 12-16 year old girl’s. I think a lot of people think of the age gap as Arya being 9 the whole time and Gendry being 16, but this is in fact wrong. According to the timeline, Arya and Gendry meet at the beginning of 299 AC, right around Arya’s 10th birthday. In 299 AC Gendry was only 13/14 years old. He was born in 284 AC and is not the same age as Robb and Jon, like Ned surmises. Gendry is just big for his age, and it’s highly likely Gendry doesn’t even know how old he is. When Arya and Gendry separate in ASOS Arya is almost 11 while Gendry is 14/15 years old.

Regardless, this is fiction, and doesn’t reflect real world morals. So what I’m getting at is that if anyone disagrees with this meta because of their ages I suggest you don’t read any further.

Foreshadowing

Our first hint of foreshadowing happens in Arya’s very first chapter:

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls. Sansa's needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa's work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.” - Arya I AGOT

This quote is later followed up with:

[...] “I ruined that gown Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good.” She chewed her lip. “I don't sew very well, I mean. Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands.”

Gendry hooted. “Those soft little things,” he called out. “You couldn't even hold a hammer.” - Arya VII ASOS

In the same book Lem Lemoncloak says this to Gendry:

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem. “We're outlaws. Lowborn scum, most of us, except for his lordship. Don't think it'll be like Tom's fool songs neither. You won't be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor. You join us, you'll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.” - Arya VII ASOS

At this point Arya is indeed a princess, but Lem also makes an obvious reference (to the audience) to the Knight of the Laughing Tree, which I think we can safely say was Lyanna. The fact that Lyanna is Arya’s literary mirror, tells me we can connect Arya to Lem’s comment, not to mention the inclusion of “princess” just kind of seals the deal. We also know that Arya is the spitting image of Lyanna and Gendry the spitting image of Robert Baratheon. I think it’s worth noting also that after Acorn Hall, Lem takes it upon himself to make sure nothing untoward happens between Arya and Gendry (he thought Gendry was taking advantage of Arya after they wrestled) as he starts sleeping in between them, which is seen in Arya V ASOS when they are at The Peach. Lem saying “Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither” is also interesting because at Acorn Hall we specifically get Tom singing a love song directed towards Arya and Gendry.

Speaking of Lyanna and Robert being reflections of Arya (in both appearance and personality) and Gendry (in appearance for the most part) this is said in Eddard I AGOT:

We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."

Now this quote may be referring to Sansa and Joffrey, but I do think it’s foreshadowing for Gendrya and this is just a misdirect. After all, Joffrey is not Robert Baratheon’s son by blood, but Gendry is, even though he is illegitimate. To me this also sounds like a promise. When you think about it, the story truly begins at the Tourney of Harrenhal with the events that broke the betrothal between Lyanna and Robert, so it would be very cyclical for the ending to do what the beginning could not, binding a Stark and a Baratheon together in marriage.

There are also several references about Arya marrying an apprentice/blacksmith:

“[...] Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you. Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire.” - Arya II AFFC

We also have a comment made by Jaime:

“Not all,” said Jaime. “Lord Eddard's daughters live. One has just been wed. The other...” Brienne, where are you? Have you found her? “...if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark. She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.” - Jaime I ADWD

Now I know what you are going to say, that Jaime is referring to Sansa possibly marrying a blacksmith or innkeep, but if it weren’t for Jaime’s thought’s in the middle towards Brienne, you’d never guess which Stark daughter he is referring to because Sansa was only just recently married as well. Also it’s Arya who is associated with a blacksmith (Gendry) and a fat-faced innkeep (Hot Pie). So while Jaime is referring to Sansa here I think we are meant to actually look at the reality behind this and reverse the foreshadowing back onto Arya, because it wasn’t Arya who was recently wed, that was Sansa. It’s also Arya who is legitimately trying to forget she was a Stark (Sansa isn’t trying to forget, she is only pretending to be Alayne to ensure her protection) and like I mentioned it’s Arya who had a blacksmith and future employee at an inn as companions for two novels. So I think it’s a foreshadowing switcheroo. And I think it’s also worth mentioning that while Jaime sent Brienne out to save Sansa, Brienne spends her whole journey almost exclusively hearing news and following leads about Arya.

There is also a reference in Brienne VII AFFC that makes mention that Arya may marry an apprentice boy:

Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them. Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared. The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty. Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny...could it be? Arya Stark's hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure about the color of her eyes. Brown and brown, was that it? Could it be that she did not die at Saltpans after all?

“One day that little girl [Willow] will make some man a frightful wife,” Ser Hyle observed. “That poor 'prentice boy [Gendry], most like.”

Willow is very obviously a Arya stand-in which makes this specific quote about Arya and Gendry, not Willow and Gendry.

Arya IV ASOS has the strongest case for future romantic Gendrya. Not only does Gendry follow after Arya and invite her to look at the forge, Gendry opens up to her about his life right before he was uprooted, and does this:

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

Gendry is being playful and open with Arya during most of this scene in the forge, teasing her in a manner that verges on flirting, telling her a story about his past, laughing and having fun with Arya. And then this happens:

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. “You look different now. Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though. A nice oak tree.” He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. “You even smell nice for a change.”

“You don't. You stink.” Arya shoved him back against the anvil and made to run, but Gendry caught her arm. She stuck a foot between his legs and tripped him, but he yanked her down with him, and they rolled across the floor of the smithy. He was very strong, but she was quicker. Every time he tried to hold her still she wiggled free and punched him. Gendry only laughed at the blows, which made her mad. He finally caught both her wrists in one hand and started to tickle her with the other, so Arya slammed her knee between his legs, and wrenched free. Both of them were covered in dirt, and one sleeve was torn on her stupid acorn dress. “I bet I don't look so nice now,” she shouted.

Gendry compliments Arya’s looks and scent, only for Arya to think he’s teasing her about her appearance due to her intense insecurity when it comes to highborn conformation (Gendry’s laugh when he first saw her didn’t help matters in her insecurity even though Gendry most likely only laughed out of being startled at her transformation). This insecurity leads Arya into getting angry and starting a wrestling match with him. This wrestling scene also directly follows Jaime and Brienne’s very sexually charged sword fight, and could also be interpreted as foreshadowing a romantic and potentially sexual relationship in the future, like theirs did, when they are older.

Now I’m not saying that I think Gendrya is going to go NC-17 in the books, but I do think it’s likely to go PG-13 by the end of ADOS, considering we have precedent that GRRM has no qualms about writing these types of things as I mentioned above, and we know Arya is going to be 12 in TWOW and may be at least 14-15 when the series ends depending on how much GRRM can spread out the timeline in the next two books. But considering the amount of stuff that needs to happen, I think the next two books will span 2-3 years before the epilogue begins.

Then there is the love song GRRM specifically wrote for Arya. A song that has only appeared in one chapter, Arya’s chapter:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

“And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

Now we know this song is about them because when Tom O’Sevens is singing it, he winks at Arya, and later Lady Smallwood specifically says to Arya “I have no gowns of leaves”. The song specifically mentions yellow – a Baratheon color – and depicts the free spirited “Maiden of the Tree” who wants love on her own terms, which sounds like what an older, flowered version of Arya would want if she fell in love.

Romantic Undertones

Arya’s Crush

As she passed the armory, Arya heard the ring of a hammer. A deep orange glow shone through the high windows. She climbed to the roof and peeked down. Gendry was beating out a breastplate. When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made. He's strong, she thought. As he took up the long-handled tongs to dip the breastplate into the quenching trough, Arya slithered through the window and leapt down to the floor beside him. - Arya IX ACOK

It’s very subtle but this paragraph tells us everything. Arya unintentionally reveals in this quote that she watches Gendry blacksmithing enough to know that the world falls away when he’s in his element. She watches the play of muscles in his back and notes how strong he is and even attaches poetic language to his work. Arya has a crush on Gendry. It’s not acknowledged and it’s likely she doesn’t understand it herself, but this seems to be the truth of it, especially with the way GRRM worded this. I don’t know how many times I’ve read a romance where the protagonist studies their love interest while watching the “play of muscles” in their back or their arms. It’s also interesting to note that Arya always mentions specifics about Gendry’s looks and notes details about him:

He blinked at her, startled. Strands of thick black hair, still wet from the bathhouse, fell across his deep blue eyes. "I'd hurt you." - Arya II ACOK

"It's me they want," Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. "You be quiet." - Arya II ACOK

When she spied Gendry, his bare chest was slick with sweat, but the blue eyes under the heavy black hair had the stubborn look she remembered. - Arya VIII ACOK

"She's not alone." Gendry rode out from behind the cottage wall, and behind him Hot Pie, leading her horse. In his chainmail shirt with a sword in his hand, Gendry looked almost a man grown, and dangerous. Hot Pie looked like Hot Pie. - Arya II ASOS

Now most of these I’d normally chalk up to the author just being descriptive, but if that’s the case, why don’t we know more about Hot Pie’s looks, who Arya spent nearly a year with at the same time as Gendry? Why does she take special time out to describe Gendry so much? Honestly I think part of it is to keep reminding us that Gendry is a secret Baratheon bastard, but that doesn’t explain the first quote about Arya watching the “play of muscles” in his back and noting how strong he is. So I think it’s a combination of GRRM wanting to remind the audience that Gendry is a Baratheon and to also subtly show us that Arya has an innocent crush on him, but doesn’t know or acknowledge that this is the case out loud.

Their Mutual Jealousy

Starting after the events of Acorn Hall in Arya IV ASOS, it’s obvious that something shifts in Arya and Gendry’s relationship. One aspect is that Gendry can no longer ignore that Arya is indeed a highborn girl after seeing her for the first time dressed up as one. He knows what class differences will mean for their friendship. And another aspect, is that Gendry acknowledges that he may be romantically interested in Arya, or at least acknowledges the potential for those feelings to emerge in time. And because of this, combined with their class differences, Gendry knows that if he follows Arya to Riverrun where her mother and brother are, he would end up watching Arya grow into someone he could romantically love, only for her to be torn away from him due to an arranged marriage. Both of these aspects play a factor in why we see Gendry become more outwardly scathing towards highborns in the chapters following this and why his behavior seems to become one rife with jealousy.

In Arya V ASOS the Brotherhood Without Banners travel to The Peach and both of the above aspects I spoke of are present in this chapter:

"You don't even know what a brothel is."

"I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls."

He was turning red again. "What are you doing here, then?" he demanded. "A brothel's no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that."

And when Gendry protects Arya from a pervert by saying that she’s his sister, this is what goes down:

"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet. "You're not my brother."

"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."

Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I meant it."

"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."

Arya doesn’t really understand the intentions of the pervert, despite knowing of sex, and is confused on why Gendry would say that he’s her brother, but when she asks him, he takes it the wrong way since he is already so sensitive about their class differences at this point in their story. That last paragraph is what makes this exchange really interesting though. Why would Gendry say this, when it’s already made clear and established in this chapter that Gendry has no intentions of sleeping with any of the girls, even when it’s offered to him for free? He is very obviously lying to try to get a rise out of Arya and the only way this makes sense is if we put it under a romantic lens.

Then we have this:

Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.

Now considering Arya’s defense mechanism (the mechanism that has her calling things or people stupid when she’s hurt or feeling inadequate by them to try to make the pain and hurt not seem so severe) the fact that she calls Gendry a “stupid bullheaded bastard boy” and proclaims Gendry ringing the bells of any girl was “nothing to her” tells us that it matters to her and that she’s upset. This is further reiterated in Arya VIII ASOS:

Arya wished she had another crabapple to bounce off his face. "My father had honor," she said angrily. "And we weren't talking to you anyway. Why don't you go back to Stoney Sept and ring that girl's stupid bells?"

So here we have Arya mention this three chapters later, likely weeks if not months later. If Arya didn’t care about Gendry ringing “all the bells he wanted” then why is she still so hurt and jealous? She’s obviously been stewing about this for a while.

In this same chapter we also see gems from Gendry that clearly proclaim that he’s still plagued about his class differences to Arya. It also clearly shows that Gendry is jealous of Edric Dayne once Arya befriends him, especially since she befriended someone highborn, like her, who just so happens to be a boy who we know has nearly the same coloring as Rhaegar Targaryen, which evokes the history repeating motif that is present in Arya’s arc of the Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert love triangle.

"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. - Arya VIII ASOS

And

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall."

Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?"

"The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite.

Gendry continues to encapsulate “ours is the fury” during Arya’s whole exchange with Edric Dayne.

I do want to add that I know Gendry’s class issues have always been there, and it’s definitely been made even more apparent to him during the War of the Five Kings during his time in the wartorn Riverlands with Arya, so it’s not exactly that far-fetched that Gendry may become even more sensitive and/or bitter about it. However, this extremity of his behavior only happened after Acorn Hall where he saw Arya looking like the highborn girl she is. And while I do believe part of Gendry’s increase of bitterness about their class differences does have to do with potential romantic feelings, I also think it has to do with Gendry also coming to terms with the fact that Arya’s family is also directly responsible for the carnage they have seen and experienced (even though he doesn’t blame Arya, as she seems to be one of Gendry’s exceptions when it comes to his dislike of the nobility). If it weren’t for the blatant flirting on his behalf in the forge at Acorn Hall and the jealousy, I would honestly chalk it up to Gendry trying to reconcile his own trauma and anger regarding highborns, including Arya’s family’s sins, but alas, that is not completely the case.

Post Separation

When Arya is kidnapped by the Hound and witnesses the Red Wedding, Arya contemplates where she may go and this crosses her thoughts in a very romanticized light:

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. - Arya XII ASOS

The fact that Arya follows this thought up with “that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream” tells us specifically what type of fantasy this is. Arya isn’t fantasizing about an adventure, she’s fantasizing about love and romance, considering those are the types of flights of fancy Sansa always loses herself in. Now Arya isn’t outright rejecting the possibility of romance here, because there is more to that second paragraph:

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.

She rejects the possibility because she remembers that Hot Pie and Gendry abandoned her as soon as they could, and that all the Brotherhood did was use her, according to her perspective on the matter. And her perspective is entirely skewed because of her abandonment and low self-esteem issues, as well as not fully understanding the class issues as she honestly didn’t think that bringing Hot Pie and Gendry to Riverrun and Winterfell would cause any issues with their friendships, which is understandable for a kid to think. Especially one that hadn’t been in the highborn world for the past year and a half. In fact, Medieval children in the real world and in the books, weren’t reprimanded for playing together regardless of class, usually the highborn children played with the children of those who worked and lived within the castle walls, from other lords children to stewards children to the helps children. It’s just something children did until they reached a certain age where it just wasn’t allowed anymore. So it’s only natural for this not to really factor into Arya’s plans.

When Arya is about to walk into the House of Black and White, Arya comforts her fear with a memory of Gendry:

Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry [...] - Arya I AFFC

Which indicates that Gendry is still very much on her mind at this point. I think it really says something as well that Arya takes comfort from a memory at Harrenhal of all places. I think this indicates how much comfort she took from their friendship. I also think she doesn’t think about Gendry with the Brotherhood to take her comfort because while ASOS has the most romantic foreshadowing for them and the two shared some nice moments, it was also the start of them truly fracturing, or so her unreliable narration interpreted it as. After all, she actually thought that Gendry was making fun of her looks at Acorn Hall, and she thought Gendry didn’t want to be her friend anymore as he “abandoned her” for the Brotherhood. So while Harrenhal was awful and they had their disagreements there, Arya still felt reassured with his companionship and likely found it uncomplicated in comparison to her other problems at the time.

When we next see Gendry in Brienne VII AFFC we see a drastically different Gendry. While Gendry has always been guarded and sullen with a chip on his shoulder, with little love for the nobility, this change is drastic enough where it’s unsettling to read at first. Not only is Gendry just flat out rude in a very mean way but he is filled with rage. Gendry joined the Brotherhood because he liked how they handled justice, but under Lady Stoneheart there is no justice and he doesn’t seem to mind. His beliefs have shifted as well.

And though his eyes had been that same deep blue, Lord Renly's eyes had always been warm and welcoming, full of laughter, whereas this boy's eyes brimmed with anger and suspicion.

Septon Meribald asked if he might lead the children in a grace, ignoring the small girl crawling naked across the table. "Aye," said Willow, snatching up the crawler before she reached the porridge. So they bowed their heads together and thanked the Father and the Mother for their bounty . . . all but the black-haired boy from the forge, who crossed his arms against his chest and sat glowering as the others prayed. Brienne was not the only one to notice. When the prayer was done Septon Meribald looked across the table, and said, "Do you have no love for the gods, son?"

"Not for your gods." Gendry stood abruptly. "I have work to do." He stalked out without a bite of food.

Gendry was at his forge, bare-chested beneath his leather apron. He was beating on a sword as if he wished it were a foe [...]

What would a knight be doing working at a smithy? "You have black hair and blue eyes, and you were born in the shadow of the Red Keep. Has no one ever remarked upon your face?"

"What's wrong with my face? It's not as ugly as yours."

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

While some people chalk up Gendry’s behavior as a result of trauma about what he experienced in the Riverlands, and I don’t deny that is a factor, I don’t believe it’s the only factor because we didn’t see Gendry like this post Harrenhal or even with the Brotherhood in ASOS. Yes he embodied “ours is the fury” at times and was jealous and bitter, and rude at times as well, but he wasn’t flat out cruel to people, nor filled with rage and vengeance. The Gendry before Arya was taken would never have led Brienne to Lady Stoneheart for the slaughter after she tried to save everyone in that Inn against Rorge and Biter and co. We can also see another difference in Gendry:

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too. "Him."

While there is no emphasis on the “him” when Gendry sees the Hound’s helm, it’s an abrupt and emotionless statement. It’s one word without emphasis but it conveys a lot. Gendry recognizes the Hound’s helm and it’s apparent he’s not happy, thinking that it was indeed the Hound for a minute. And while I’m trying to avoid discussing symbolism, I just can’t ignore how the lightning that cracked in the south could also be symbolic of Gendry’s true mood. He is, after all, a bastard Baratheon, connected to the storm, the fury - thunder and lightning - as well as sharing a connection to the god, Thor in our mythology. This lightning could symbolically be linked to Gendry’s anger and vengeance. So why does Gendry act like this when he sees who he thinks is the Hound again? He had no issue with the Hound during his trial by combat, so what changed? The Hound kidnapped Arya. And while he knows Arya didn’t die at the Red Wedding, he and the Brotherhood aren’t entirely sure if the Hound sold Arya to the Lannister’s and if she is now Arya Bolton. So it makes complete sense why he would have issues with the Hound. In fact I think a lot of this behavior we are seeing from Gendry is the direct result of the Hound kidnapping Arya and not knowing if she’s dead or being brutally raped and tortured in the North.

Why do I think this? Because this behavior began between Arya being kidnapped in ASOS and Brienne VII AFFC. Only a few to a handful of months have passed since then. This, I believe, is the inciting incident. Another reason why I believe Arya is the reason is because of what he is doing. He is staying at the Crossroads Inn, one of the last known places Arya was sighted, and he’s helping take care of orphaned children. Arya took in strays as well and cared for them, like Weasel. And considering how Gendry in ACOK wanted to leave Weasel and Hot Pie and Lommy behind, it’s interesting to see that he’s helping by taking in strays himself now, as if he thinks he may be able to atone for not saving Arya. Another reason is because the Brotherhood is actively searching for Arya as well. She is ever present on their minds. So yes, I believe part of Gendry’s change has to do with losing Arya, which goes to show how much he really cared about her. Not to mention (a tiny bit more symbolism, oopsie!), Gendry’s stay at the inn, waiting for Arya to return (I believe Gendry and the BWB are hoping that Arya is alive and will return to the inn) is a romantic aspect to the mythology of Weyland the Smith and his Swan Maiden/Valkyrie, and the aspect about the Brotherhood + Gendry searching the realm for Arya is also a romantic Cinderella motif, hence why I feel Gendry’s behavior here is supposed to have romantic subtext.

Extra: Another interesting aspect that I think foreshadows this future relationship is the meaning of Gendry’s name. Gendry is a nickname type of surname for a person who has inherited his family estates from his father-in-law, deriving its origin from the Old French word “gendre,” which meant “son-in-law.” And as we know if Arya and Gendry married when they were older, Arya wouldn’t be taking his name, but he hers, due to her higher status. So by marrying into the Stark family, he would be inheriting from his father-in-law Ned so to speak, even if it’s just inheriting the surname.

So this is everything I’ve compiled so far about Gendrya, that relies on just their foreshadowing and romantic undertones in the texts we have available but I’m positive I’ll be adding more to this list once TWOW officially releases. However, I still have a lot more to share that focuses on their symbolism and motifs throughout the story, so I’m definitely not done making Gendrya meta, far from it and I can’t wait to share it with you all!

And if anyone is interested in Arya’s and by extension Gendrya’s Cinderella motifs, you can find it at this link: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.

#arya stark #gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendrya #asoiaf

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echos-newlegs · 3 years

Note

Hey Dear, could you please do 30 with Crosshair or Wolffe and she... and some smut? Thank you ❤

Months without you

Heck yeah, gunna go with Wolffe because I wanna take a break from writing Crosshair. Thanks for the request!

Wolffe x Reader: "How funny! I wanted to take a shower, too. How bout we both take one, to save water, of course."

Warnings: smut, f receiving, f riding m, p in v, praise, slight authority kink, it's wolffe, what do you expect tbh. He does call you girl like twice? But yeah, it do be kind of long. Sorry 🤠

"Senator, someone's here to see you," your handmaiden spoke. Causing you to look up from your desk of paper work and projects. "Who is it?" You asked, and Wolffe peaked his head from behind the door. A small smile creeping onto your face. "Just me," "Just you? No Comet, Sinker, Boost, and Master Plo today?" You asked with a raised brow. Motioning with your hand for him to come in. "Will that be all, m'lady?" The maiden asked, making you nod. "Yes, you're dismissed, thank you."

Wolffe approached your desk with a sigh. Sitting on the bench in the rather roomy office. You stepping over to join once the door was shut behind the maiden. "So, what brings your here?" You asked. Seating yourself beside him. Smiling as his arm snaked around your waist. "Just came to see my favorite Senator." He hummed. Resting his head on yours.

You took his free hand into your lap. Playing with his fingers. "Are you stressed? You seem tense, my love." You asked. Looking up, causing him to pull his head back to look at your face. Bringing his hand up to rest on the side of your face. "I guess I am a little," he gruffed. Leaning down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. "But it's fine, it's always better with you."

You and Wolffe had been dating in secret- well as secret as you could keep it with his nosy brothers. For a good seven months now. The two of you met on a mission. He and his men had to help you and your people with an invasion, and he couldn't get enough of you. Nor could you really get enough of him. So anytime he was in the area, or got the okay of leave. He was there knocking at your door. Hoping to at least get one hug in from you.

You brought a hand up to brush through his hair. Resulting in his eyes falling shut, head pushing into your touch slightly while he grunted. You smiled at that. Kissing his cheek while wrapping your other arm around his neck. "I was gunna go shower, you can wait here?" You spoke against his skin while his lips pressed gentle kisses to the crook of your neck. Causing a small hum to leave your throat. By the way he smirked against your skin, in response. You could tell he had other plans. He just got there, he wasn't about to let you go for even a second.

"Really?" He murmured, kissing up the side of your neck. Loose strands of your hair tickling at his nose. You nodded, 'yes.' "How funny, I wanted to take a shower, too." He grumbled. "How about we take a shower together? To save water, of course." He sighed out, nipping the skin under your ear. Then your earlobe. Your hands gripping at his shoulders while gasping.

He nuzzled your cheek with a grin. "Well, if your up for it?" You shuddered at how his voice seemed to lower a few octaves. His hands gripping at your hips. Trying to slip them under your shirt, until he pulled back and realized you were in a dress. Cursing under his breath. It made you giggle. His eyes flashing back to yours. "I'm up for it, if you are." You admitted. Fidgeting with his chest plate as he grinned back to you. "How bout we leave your armor in my room.. need you comfortable, right?" You purred, and he was up in nearly an instant. Hands pulling you up. Causing you to gasp and titter.

The two of you ventured to your room. Wolffe muttering soft nothings in your ear. "I've missed you so much, you know that?" He commented. Hands roaming anywhere he could reach. Urging you to nearly sprint to your bedroom to head for the fresher and start the water. "You want me to mark you up like last time? Leave a little reminder until next time we see each other?" He rumbled, keeping his voice down a bit. Your breath quivering, and you nodded faintly. Wolffe sniggered at that. Kissing your neck, hands fleeing to your waist while he trailed behind you.

You opened the door to your room. Wolffe practically shoving you inside while he scrambled to shut the door and then pin you against it. Lowering into your space while his lips were inches from yours. "You wanna.. tell me where you want my armor?" He asked, looking down to your lips, then back to your eyes. Darting his tongue out to lick his lips. You motioned past him to a chair by the bed. Gulping slightly. "On that chair is fine," "Alright, Cyar'ika." You whimpered a bit at the name. Never in a relationship had your previous partners made you feel the way he does, but he was just so.. Different. So wonderful.

He brought his now ungloved hand up to brush the backs of his fingers against your cheek. Then run his thumb over your bottom lip. "So beautiful," he growled, and you couldn't help but smile. You heart beating quicker with each passing moment. Bringing a hand up to cup the side of his face. Watching as he leant into the touch. "So handsome," you cooed. Running the tips of your fingers gently over his scar. Wolffe shuddering this time. Pulling away from you to head for the chair. Beginning to unlatch his armor on the way over. "Go start the water, you better be undressed by the time I'm in there, too." He ordered, and you hummed. "Yes, Commander." You teased. You knew that got him riled up. Stealing a glance from his lust filled gaze as you disappeared into the fresher.

He didn't waist anytime. Discarding his armor, weapon, and boots where he was told to. Then making his way to you. His safe place. His haven.

He could hear you humming, seeing your figure behind the glass as you stood beneath the water. Seeing your clothes in a hamper, discarding his blacks in the same. "It should be just right, I think?" You spoke. Wolffe climbing in with a small hum. The warm water hitting his sun-kissed skin. Watching as you turned to face him. Your hands reaching to his chest. Eyes scanning over his scars, and some newly achieved ones. "Does the water feel alright?" You asked, softly. Wolffe grunting in response. "Sure does, Cyare." He spoke. Bringing a hand up to wipe some hair from your face.

Your eyes were too focused on a rather big, still healing, wound on his arm. "What happened here?" You asked in a concerned tone. Brows furrowing. Eyes full of worry. Wolffe shook his head. Trying to swat your hand away as you went to study it. "Nothing," he told you. Making you huff out a sigh.

You looked up to him with a frown. "Wolffe, what happened?" You demanded, and he caved in. He knew you were as stubborn as he was, and he wasn't about to waste a shower with you by bickering over a silly cut. "Some shrapnel from an explosion pierced between my armor, I'm fine." You sighed. Hands moving back to trace over his older scars on his chest. Then gliding gently down his stomach. Feeling as his muscles clenched under your touch. Eyes studying his own. "You're so stubborn, you know that? Was it so hard to tell me that?" You teased. Wolffe sighing, rolling his eyes and head. Making you smile and giggle. Leaning in to press soft kisses to his neck. "So predictable too," "Predictable, huh?" He huffed and you snickered. Kissing up his jaw to his lips. "Yeah, you always roll your eyes, I know when you will by now." You poked and he grabbed at your hips with a bruising grip. Making you yelp. His lips moving to mold against yours.

Your hands moved up to wrap around his shoulders. Running through, and tugging at his hair. A low groan escaping his chest. Turning to press your back against the wall. The water hitting his back. His lips pulled from yours. You letting out a slight whine from the loss of affection. Wolffe smirking slightly at this. "I'm sure I could do some unpredictable things, Cyare. Have you squirming, making enough noise for everyone to hear." He growled.

You felt you core heat up. Inhaling sharply at his words. You both wanted each other, so desperately. It'd been months, but just for that. Wolffe was willing to play this out. You weren't sure what to expect now.

His hands moved to run down your sides, making you squirm. His rough fingers grazing over your stomach. Then dipping down to your inner thighs. Avoiding where you wanted attention the most. You nearly screamed at him for it, but you couldn't. Especially when his mouth moved to bite at your shoulder. Making you gasp.

He pulled away with that. Moving to grab a cloth and some soup. Squeezing some of it out onto the cloth. Closing the cap, and setting it aside. Handing you the cloth with a smirk. "Wash yourself, I'll wash your back." He spoke, and you raised your brows. "You aren't gunna wash yourself first, Commander?" You cooed. He sniggered at that. "I will after I'm done with you." He spoke, watching as your hands began to roam your own body. Lathering yourself up with soap. "Should I take my time?" A groan escaped his throat as you rubbed the cloth over your chest. "If you want cold water." He added, and you sighed. Both mentally cursing the fact the water didn't stay warm forever.

Once you finished, he took the cloth from you. Ordering you to turn around. Which you did. You were sure you'd put on a bit more of a show for him though. With the threat of the water cooling, and the fact he could carry this on for literal hours. You didn't feel like waiting all night for him to stop with the charades. Your hands pressing against the wall. Arching your back. Sticking your ass out a bit while your legs slid apart.

You peaked over your shoulder with a small grin. "This how you want me, Commander?" You asked, and you could tell you were playing with fire. His composer faltering. Hands flexing. Then he looked back up to you with a lustful gaze. "Yes," he hushed.

He got to soaping up your back. Groping your ass with his free hand. Small noises leaving your lips here and there that had him going absolutely wild on the inside.

He removed the shower head to spray down your body. Taking his time, again, and you were losing patience.

You leant back, meaning to press your ass against him, but he caught you. Pushing your hips forward again. "No," he grunted, and you pouted a bit. "Wolffe.." you whined and he smirked, putting the shower head back once he was satisfied. Leaning in to press a kiss to your shoulder. Snaking an arm around your waist to tease his fingers at your entrance. A finger running over your folds, and it had you yelping. "Wolffe, please," "please what? Tell me what you want, and maybe I'll do it." He directed.

You opened your mouth to say something when his finger ran over your clit. If it weren't for the wall and his grip on your waist you'd be on the floor by now. "Please, I want you," he chuckled. Lips kissing and sucking on your shoulder. "Gunna have to be more specific. " you groaned, frustrated and tired of his games. "Makers sake, I want you to fuck me." You snapped, and he hummed. Smiling against your shoulder. "You didn't ask nicely."

You nearly cried when you lost his hand between your legs. Leaning forward more, but not for long. He spun you around. Pressing your back to the wall. Lips crashing against your once more. Catching you in a hungry kiss. Though it didn't last long. His lips on a mission. Working down your body. Biting, licking, sucking, kissing. Anywhere he could reach that had you panting and writhing.

He sunk lower until he was on his knees. Something that didn't often happen, but when it did you knew you were in for a hell of a trip.

His hands pulled your thighs so they were slung over his shoulders. Giving him perfect access to your cunt. His eyes gazing up threw hooded lids. Breath fanning over your entrance. Hands racing to tangle in his hair. "Who's in charge here?" You groaned at his words, "Wolffe, please." "Ah-Ah, answer me, Who's in charge. Senator." You licked your lips. Chest heaving a bit. "You are, sir." He smirked, "Good girl."

You nearly lost it, especially when he leant forward. Eyes still staring up to watch your features while he pressed a kiss to your clit. One hand keeping your thighs from crushing his head. The other helping tease you.

He pushed a finger in you. Curling it while he pressed his tongue in. Your face contorting, throwing your head back while you furrowed your brows. Releasing a rather pent up moan. "Fuck, Wolffe," he groaned when you tugged at his hair. Shoving another finger inside you. Licking and lapping until you were shaking and babbling.

When you were close, you let out a gasp. Tugging his hair once more. "Wolffe, oh, kriff, Commander, I'm close." He smirked. Giving one last lick, then pulling his finger out. Letting your legs drop back to the ground. Wolffe keeping you up still while you shook and pouted.

"Cyare," he licked off his fingers. And you couldn't tell if the liquid dripping down his chin was you or the water. "I'm going to finish showering, and you are too." He told you. Standing to meet you. Your eyes half lidded. "And your going to dry off and get ready, and meet me in your bed, am I understood?" He spoke. Beginning to rub soap over his own body. Nearly breaking when you saw how hard he was already. "Cyare, am I understood?" He snapped, and you nodded your head. "Yes, you are." He raised a brow. "Sir," "good." He kissed your cheek. Begging to rinse himself off and work some shampoo in his hair.

The shower felt like ages, and all you two needed to really do was wash your hair. But you were still trying to regain composer, and you barely knew how he was keeping sane. Wanting to reach out and touch him, but you knew he could and would keep doing this all night until you broke into a million pieces.

He climbed out, leaving you alone. Though he didn't forget to run a hand over the small of your back before his way out. Keeping your hands to yourself, which only made him smirk. "Wolffe," "hm?" He asked as he dried himself. More of a grumble, really. "You want me to get dressed, too?" You asked. Finishing rinsing the soap from your hair. Then shutting the water. "Just a towel is fine, Cyare. Don't keep me waiting," he pried.

When he left the fresher you climbed out yourself. Drying your hair, and then your body. Trying to fix your still damp locks so you didn't look, too, ridiculous. Letting out a soft huff before sneaking out in your towel.

Wolffe was sat on the bed. Looking up at you, raising a brow. You stood there for a moment, expecting him to tell you to do something, but he just motioned you to come over. Holding his arms out for you. So you did.

You climbed over his lap, straddling his waist. Hands holding at his shoulders while you looked down to him. "I've missed you, so much," you spoke. Running your fingers up the side of his neck, and then to his cheek. Brushing a drop of water off his tanned skin. "Missed you, too, Cyare." He added. Kissing you slowly, then parting. "Now lay down."

You climbed off him. Wolffe pulling the towel off from around out. Allowing you to lay down bare in front of him. Letting his own towel drop down onto the floor. "On my back?" You asked, and he nodded as he climbed in between your legs. Large hands holding your thighs. Running them up and down your skin. "I want to watch you, while I tear you apart." His words made you shudder. Thighs attempting to clench, but they just squeezed around his waist. "Wolffe," you cooed, "I want you, please." He leant down and connected his lips with yours. "There's my nice girl," he praised. Bringing a free hand to cup your chin as he positioned himself. "Wait," you spoke, and he cocked a brow. Growing a bit concerned for a second there. "Can I.." you trailed off. Running your fingers through his damp hair. "Ride you?"

Wolffe nearly collapsed. The two of you had slept together, sure, but never had you offered to ride him. He never asked, either. He didn't want to pressure you, or scare you, or make you in any shape or form uncomfortable. So he was thrilled that you asked. Nodding softly. "Yeah, sure." He spoke, a bit in shock.

You pushed his chest lightly. Shoving him to lay on his back. Straddling his hips again. His hands moving to rest on your thighs while you got yourself positioned. "Beautiful, " he purred. Eyes roaming your body. Whispering more sweet nothings, and feeling you up. While you lowered yourself onto him. "Kriff," he groaned. Your walls clenching, legs trembling a bit. It was something your body never seemed to adjust to. Especially since he was always gone for weeks or even months at a time.

You lowered your upper body, fingers digging into his chest. Face hidden in the crook of his neck while you panted and adjusted. Tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Wolffes hands roaming and rubbing your back. "You're doing so good, shh, I love you more than maker knows." He muttered sweet nothings. You whispering a small 'I love you, too,' back.

Once you felt accustomed to the feel, you rocked your hips forward. Your mouth falling open a bit, and his hands went back to position at your hips. Pulling your upper body back up to look down at him hands splayed on his chest. "Mm, Kriff," you moaned. Raising yourself, and then falling back onto him.

You continued this motion for a bit, and when Wolffe felt the time was right. He started thrusting his hips up, meeting your hips. Small noises leaving your lips while he fucked up into you. Your fingers clawing at his chest. Small mewls leaving you while he groaned.

You were trying to quicken the speed, legs beginning to tire. Wolffe could tell, the way your thighs trembled under his touch. So he took your hips to help hold you up. Propping his legs up a bit more while he trusted into you. The newer angle making you gasp. Vision blurring, seeing stars. "Wolffe, oh maker, there, oh stars!" You babbled. Wolffe making it his personal mission to hit that spot with each thrust.

It didn't take long before you were nearing the brim, nearly overflowing with pleasure. "I'm, so close," you gasped in between thrusts. Wolffe already knew, by the way you were clenching around him, and the way your eyes were falling shut with pleasure. "Look at me," he demanded. You fighting to keep your eyes open as his hips snapped up into you. Hitting that bundle of nerves again, making your arch your back. Slapping a hand to your mouth to hold back your scream of pleasure. Walls clenching around him, making his orgasm hit shortly after. "Oh, Cyare," "Wolffe-" you both exclaimed at the same time. Him letting a few more sloppy thrusts happen while he shot his seed into you. Allowing you to pull off and then collapse onto his chest once he was done.

You were both panting. Sweaty. "So much for that shower," you exhaled. Kissing his chest. Rubbing slightly over the red marks you left. "Hmm," he grunted, "We'll just have to take another." You let out a weak chuckle. Eyes falling shut. "Separate.." you breathed out while his hand ran through your hair. Drifting off to sleep on his chest while your body attempted to come down from its high. "Maybe."

#star wars #star wars writing #the clone wars #writing #clone trooper x reader #clone commander #commander wolffe #wolffe x reader #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe fic #clone x reader #clone wars

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lexiepiper · 3 years

Text

Mortality salience

Happy Holidays, @ceciliaspen!

I ran with your platonic Valerie/Danny prompt, with a (mortality-based) horror theme and a good dash of angst! I hope you like it!

Ao3 FF

“So.” Danny tried to smile despite the screaming pain that overwhelmed his entire lower body. His tongue was sharp with the taste of blood, and he hoped the sudden renewed bleeding of a split lip didn’t ruin the attempt at a friendly expression. “Come here often?”

Valerie glared and curled her legs closer to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Shut up,” she snapped, and the familiarity of the insult would have been almost comforting if not for the fact that her typical vitriol was absent. Without it, she sounded hollow, and far more vulnerable than he ever could have imagined.

“Hey.” His lip stung, and Danny tried to think of something comforting as he wiped away the blood and ectoplasm that trickled down his chin. It streaked the back of his glove in a grisly smear of red and green. “I know this seems hopeless, but I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

She huddled tighter in on herself, but otherwise didn’t even acknowledge that he’d spoken. He sighed, catching how her glare faltered as he dabbed at his mouth again.

Water dripped through the broken gaps in the ceiling, landing on Valerie’s arm. A tremor visibly ran across her shoulders.

“Oh.” Danny pawed at the zipper in the hollow of his throat. Her dark green eyes followed as he drew it down as low as he could before shimmying his shoulders out of the waterproof fabric.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

Danny pressed against the wooden beam that pinned his lower half to the ground despite the resulting spike in his pain, peeling the HAZMAT as low as it would go. “Suit’s waterproof,” he grunted. “I won’t get hypothermia, but you might.” It wouldn’t go past his waist, thwarted by the beam that sat smugly across his thighs and pressed into his pelvis with a weight that felt like a thousand tonnes. Pain throbbed through him, cutting breaths short and making every movement agony.

He threw out a freshly bare hand, ignoring the way her gaze lingered on the tendrilling feathers of the death scar that wrapped around his arms before disappearing beneath the colour-inverted NASA shirt that had been beneath his suit. “Knife,” he said in response to her questioning look.

When she made no movement he huffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Why?”

“So I can cut my suit for you.” Danny wriggled the fingers of his outstretched hand. “Cold. Hypothermia. I’d rather not have another ghost to deal with if you die, y’know?”

“Not that.” More water dripped onto her hair, and she shivered again and tried to move out of the way without closing the gap between them in the confined space. “Why won’t you hurt me?”

He groaned, curling his fingers in a gesture for her to hurry up and pass it over. “I’ve never hurt you, and do you really think I fight those ghosts at three in the morning for fun?”

Valerie’s frown grew deeper, and the faint lines in her forehead folded into creases. “You’re a ghost too. It doesn’t need to make sense.”

He flapped his hand. “Semantics. Just pass the knife, my arm’s getting tired.”

“Your arm can’t get tired.” She still didn't move. “You don’t have lactic acid, or even muscles.”

“Like I said, semantics.” He flapped his hand again and tried not to whine. “Come on.”

Valerie chewed her lip before scooting closer and swatting his hand out of the way. “Like I’m going to give you one,” she snapped, leaning across him and producing a pocket knife from her pocket. Danny leaned back against the broken ceiling that had collapsed around them, ignoring the screaming pain that lanced through his gut and hips, and positioning himself so that nothing dug too painfully into his back.

Valerie’s long curls hung in the space between them, brushing against his mouth. He raised a hand to push them out of the way.

She jerked back at the movement, knife up and immediately pointing at his throat. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He froze, hand still halfway to his chin. “Your hair was in my face. I was just going to move it.” He made a show of wiping the back of his hand across his sluggishly bleeding mouth, holding it up so she could see how it was smeared with blood and ectoplasm. “Didn’t think you wanted this on you.”

More water dripped through the ruined ceiling, landing on Danny’s nose. He sneezed, then moaned as pain flared through him. Once it died down he rubbed his knuckles where the raindrop had hit, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

He didn’t miss the horror that crept into her expression, slackening her jaw and smoothing away the crinkles in her brow as her eyes grew impossibly wide. “You… you’re breathing,” she choked, “and… is that…?”

Her free hand grabbed his wrist, fingers like pincers against his skin. Danny winced as she twisted so that the back of his hand faced her again.

“Blood.” She stared for a moment longer, then dropped his wrist and jammed her fingers in the hollow where his ear met his jawline.

“Wait,” he gasped, trying to pull away, but she shoved the knife back into her pocket and used her other hand to hold his shoulders down, leaning heavily across his chest. Danny cried out, pushing weakly against her weight as fire licked through his lower half and wrapped around his torso. “V-Ahhh, stop!”

She drew back at his scream, fingers still pressed beneath his jaw as her eyes followed the movement of his heaving chest.

“What the hell?!” Danny gasped once the pain retreated back to his trapped lower half, lying in wait until the next opportunity to overwhelm him. “I’m pretty sure my pelvis is broken, y’know? I’m trying to save your life and you don’t think I’m hurt enough?”

Her fingernails dug deeper into his throat, and Danny whined and batted her away. She allowed him to, and they both sat in the gloom, their harsh breaths out of sync so that the empty spaces between hers were filled with the pained rasps of his.

“You’re alive.”

He couldn’t look at her anymore. Dread curled painfully beneath his lungs, or maybe it was just the pooling toxins finally leaking from his crushed flesh. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it leaned against the uneven rubble. “Yeah,” he whispered, and the confession bore the exhausting, undefeatable weight of a millstone around his neck. “For now.”

He listened to the rain in between their breaths. Several drops fell onto his bare face and arms before she moved with a rustle of cloth, and then a hand, far warmer than his skin but colder than it should be, gently closed over his shoulder. “What do you mean, for now? How can you be alive when you’re a ghost?”

Danny shrugged at her soft question and regretted it instantly as the movement tugged at lower muscles that rippled with white-hot pain. He winced, curling his hands into fists and taking a couple of grounding breaths before trusting his voice. “If I say semantics enough times will you drop it?”

Her grip tightened, her gentle tone disappeared under familiar sharpness. “Phantom. Tell me right now. What. Do. You. Mean?”

Danny laughed humorlessly, and it quickly dissolved into a whimper.

“I’ll shake you,” she threatened, and the grip on his shoulder became painful.

Danny cracked open an eye to give her his best unimpressed frown. “I’m dying, Val. Have some respect.”

The light was rapidly fading, sinking into twilight, and Danny could barely make out her expression. The only source of illumination was the glow of his own body, but it didn’t do much beyond making his own condition unflinchingly apparent. Her mouth worked, opening and closing as though she was trying to figure out what to say, and Danny pounced on the opportunity to derail the conversation. “Jumpsuit,” he reminded her, gesturing to his clothing with the smallest movement possible. “It’s no good both of us dying here.”

She took a sharp breath and drew back, shaking her head. “No, you… you’re so cold. You need it.”

Danny huffed, but it came out more as a pained whine. “I have an ice core. Hypothermia isn’t an issue for me.”

She leaned closer again, and her eyes shone green as they reflected his own spectral glow back at him. “You’re lying, aren’t you?”

He pursed his lips. “Come on, Val. You’ve seen me shoot ice out my hands. I can’t do that without an ice core.”

She regarded him for a few more breaths before something in his expression seemed to convince her, and then Valerie shifted to crouch right beside him. She tugged at his suit, far more gently than he’d anticipated, and Danny lay back and let her work.

It wasn’t long before she made an apologetic sound. “I need to reach around your back.”

He sucked in a breath through gritted teeth. His ribs were beginning to ache. “Alright. Just… give me a second.”

She obligingly leaned away, and Danny pressed his elbows into the hard, jagged chunks of what felt like roof tiles. He took another deep breath, screwed his eyes shut, and pushed.

The broken fragments of his pelvis ground together. He thought he might have screamed, but then her arm looped around his back and held him upright. Danny sagged against the support, gasping as tears blurred his vision and poured down his face, and pain pierced him with a million burning knives.

She tugged at his suit and Danny sobbed, his head lolling forward so that glowing tears dripped onto his shirt. “Hurry,” he begged, and the jerky one-armed sawing of the knife at his lower back melded with the pulsing anguish below his waist. It spread up, through his gut and chest, and engulfed him with burning and darkness.

The next time he registered any sensation, Danny’s ears resonated with ringing. He blinked, and sucked in a shaky breath.

“You back?”

Something sharp pressed into his scalp, and he shifted his pounding head. Right. Rubble. Soft fingers slipped beneath his skull, smoothing out the rough surface, and Danny tried to make an appreciative noise.

All that made it past his lips was a faint whine, and he heard her sigh as those same fingers brushed his overlong fringe away from where rainwater made it stick across his eyes. “Phantom?”

He blinked again, blearily, and her face finally came into focus. The shadows beneath her eyes and in the hollows of her cheeks were thrown into stark contrast by his ghostly glow, and he was startled by the realisation that she’d lost the round softness that had once been there. She probably didn’t mind the change, but he felt suddenly sad, as though something precious was gone.

“Sorry,” he rasped.

Her other hand rested on his chest, rising and falling with his breaths. “You scared me.”

He frowned. The water on her face caught his spectral light, but he had no way to know if it was tears or rain. “Never thought I’d… hear you say that,” he wheezed. Talking hurt, and the pain in his hips had crept higher, raking sharp fingers through his gut and clenching around his ribs. “Maybe sitting up… was a bad idea.”

The hand still on his forehead pressed heavier for a moment, and then she pulled back. With the staticy rustle of waterproof HAZMAT, she slid her arms into the sleeves of the top half of his jumpsuit. The zipper was still attached to half of its teeth, and after a few attempts, she managed to re-thread the other side and pull it up to her chin.

Danny used the moment to settle. He tried to relax as much of his body as he could, focusing on each muscle that wasn’t currently being crushed and forcing it to unclench. The effort was rewarded with a marked decrease in the pain that pressed against his ribs, but every breath still throbbed as his lower muscles protested any movement.

He looked over at Valerie, catching her staring at his face, and she quickly looked away.

He didn’t know why he asked his next question, except to fill the silence. “Why did I scare you?”

Any remnants of daylight were gone by now, but he could still make out her scowl in the unnatural light cast by his body. Instead of answering, Valerie scooted back so that she was sitting against the ruined wall. Their tiny clearing in the ruined building was no bigger than the interior of a car, but her new position moved her out of the way of the majority of the rainwater that dripped through the small gaps in the ruined ceiling. He thought she wasn’t going to answer him by the time she finally spoke. “What are you?”

The question wasn’t that surprising, but laughter clenched Danny’s lungs and forced its way out as yet another pained wheeze. “Who knows?” he choked, blinking past fresh tears that were brought on by the stabbing pain. “Damn it, Val… If I knew, then maybe… maybe we wouldn’t be here right now.” He sucked in a few more ragged breaths. “I mean, if I knew, like… ah, ouch… like really knew, then maybe I’d have told you… and… you wouldn’t have… have shot me into the ceiling.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” she snapped, and he held up a hand.

“I’m not… blaming you. Just… thought we might have been friends.”

“I don’t make friends with ghosts,” she snapped, and pulled his ruined suit tighter around herself.

Danny dropped his hand back to his side. He’d caught his breath a bit, but talking still hurt more now than it had before. “Y’know, Val… I think you might have… If I’d told you I was half human before… the whole thing with the ghost dog... which I swear was an accident.”

Water dripped in the darkness, and wind tugged at the trees somewhere beyond their cocoon of broken wood and plaster.

“You’re part human,” she whispered, the soft words almost lost in the weather.

Danny gave a slow blink with a gentle tilt of his head in an affirmative gesture. “Lab accident,” he clarified, struggling to speak above a wheeze himself. “I was full human before, so technically I’m half ghost. The jargon is that I’m a halfa.”

“Whose jargon?” she asked, and Danny thought he might have sensed a genuinely curious undertone. “It sounds stupid.”

“The other ghosts.” He shifted the hand on the side visible to her in a general so-so gesture instead of trying to shrug. “Most of them don’t really like me.”

She snorted. “What, because you fight them?”

“Nah.” He worked the words around his mouth slowly, trying not to seem like he was out of breath from their conversation. “The living dead thing kinda… kinda ruins it for them. I fight them... because they like trying world dominion.”

“Right.”

He watched as she looked down at her hands, fiddling with the jagged shreds where her new clothing abruptly cut off above her hips.

“Is that what the scar’s from?” she finally asked, and he thought her gaze might have fixed on the glowing Lichtenberg tendrils.

Danny let out a long, shaky breath. “It’s rude to ask.” He said it as gently as he could, trying to push down a pain that wasn’t entirely physical. The fine hairs on his skin fizzed for a moment, and he watched out of the corner of his eye as they burned out with the tiny sizzle of electrical sparks that quickly died in the night. His scars shone brighter too at the topic, and he heaved his thoughts away before he could properly revisit the trauma. “Don’t… don’t ask. Please.”

The plastic rustle of his suit told him that she was moving again, and Danny turned his head a bit more to see her better as she repositioned herself. Trees creaked in the storm, their tossing leaves providing a backdrop of static. Finally, she spoke. “Is that what’s going to happen?”

“What do you mean?” he asked, exhaustion and throbbing anguish weighing down the words.

“To us,” she said. “We’re never getting out of here, are we?”

Danny sighed, regretting the movement as his ribs twinged. “While I’m still baffled… why you chased me without your suit… that gun won’t stop my powers forever… So no, you won’t die here… I’ll phase us out, soon as… as my core’s back online.”

A sniffle broke past the storm’s noise. “You’re hurt though. And… if you’re still alive… you said it yourself, before. That you’re dying.”

“I know.” Danny squeezed his eyes shut. They burned with exhaustion. “It’s… a race against time, I guess… My core heals me really fast… so if it comes back in time… I should be okay.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Danny didn’t answer what should have been an obvious question. Before, when he’d first been pinned and the abandoned building had collapsed around them, he’d thought it would all be fine. She’d screamed and cried as she fruitlessly clawed at the rubble, but he’d laid back to wait, thinking that it was just another Thursday.

Now, though? Now a cold emptiness that had nothing to do with cryokinesis leaked into his marrow.

If his core didn’t kick back in soon, this might actually be it.

Valerie finally whispered over the wind again. “If… if it comes to that, who should I tell?”

“What?” He opened his eyes again, trying to make out more than her outline. Her question filled him with dread.

She cleared her throat, and asked again, louder this time. “You said that you were… are… human. So if you do die here, who should I tell?”

He closed his eyes, tears slipping free. “Jazz.” His voice cracked, and he swallowed dryly and licked his lips before trying again. “Jazz Fenton. She’ll tell… Um, she’ll make sure that the right… the right people know.” The faltering words weren’t blocked by his pain, but by a tightening throat as he tried not to picture his loved ones learning that he was never coming home.

“Jazz Fenton?” He tone was just shy of disbelieving. “Really?”

“Just do it please,” he choked, and more tears trailed down his temples. One dripped into his ear while the other disappeared into his hair.

The ruins rattled as wind slammed into the building, and something shifted in their tiny cavern.

Valerie swore. “How didn’t I realise?” she choked, and it sounded like she tried to muffle a sob with her hands. “You… you look just… just like him.”

Danny sniffed, making his chest throb. He blinked a few times before looking at her shadowy form. The reflective collar of his jumpsuit directed his glow back at him, and he gave what felt like a truly pathetic smile. “Hi, Val.”

“Danny?” she whispered, his name tight with her tears.

“Yeah.”

She swore again, and pitched forward onto her hands and knees, crawling across the gap between them. Her hand wrapped around his, and he squeezed with what little strength he could give.

“What have I done?” Her proximity shed more of his glow onto her face, and tears caught the light as they dripped off her chin.

“It’s okay,” he breathed. The chill in his bones was spreading now, numbing whatever it touched. The tempering of his pain would have been a relief if it didn’t clench the cold hand of fear around his heart.

She lifted his hand to her cheek, and her skin was almost unbearably hot. “I’m sorry,” she wailed, and her tears flowed over his fingers. “I’m sorry, Danny, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He closed his eyes again, trying to keep breathing as she chanted the apology over and over. The ice creaking through his veins drowned out all other senses, and Danny gasped as his chest seized in a sudden cramp.

Light flashed through his closed eyelids, and in an instant, power burst from his core. The weight of his human form settled over him like a shroud and Danny instinctively dissolved, opening his eyes in time to see the beam slip through his intangible lower half.

“Pull me out,” he gasped.

“What?!”

The familiar white rings were blinding after so long in the darkness. “Just pull!” he shouted, and then her hands found his shoulders and hauled, and Danny screamed as all of the pain from before came crashing back and the shattered bones in his hips and thighs ground together and stabbed sharp ends into what had to be every single nerve ending he had.

The lights disappeared, and his pulse beat through his ears before sinking into ringing silence.

His next thought was that something irregular and hard was digging into the space between his shoulder blades, and that he ached all over. Light brushed against his eyelids, not bright enough to be direct sunlight but still definitely natural, judging from the fresh air that filled his lungs. Danny swallowed, his mouth thick and fuzzy, and rolled onto his side with a groan.

Everything beneath his waist throbbed with the motion and he whined, curling an arm around his gut.

“Hey.”

It took a moment to place the casual greeting, and when foggy thoughts finally pushed past the pain in his hips and legs, Danny’s eyes shot open. “Val?” he croaked, squinting in the light.

“Thought you wouldn’t make it for a hot minute.” She carded her fingers through his hair.

“Great.” His tongue stuck in his mouth, and he swallowed again and let his eyes fall shut. “Got any water?”

“Not unless you drink the mud,” she said, and then pressed her hand against his shoulder. “Your shirt’s still damp, though. You could probably suck some water from that.”

In any other circumstance it would have been humiliating, but after the night he’d just had Danny figured that pride wasn’t really an issue here. He blindly groped for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up to his mouth, sucking the slightest amount of heavenly moisture from the fabric.

It wasn’t much, but still managed to clear away the majority of the stickiness.

He tugged his shirt back down before opening his eyes to look at her again. “What happened?”

She snorted. Beams of sunlight broke through the cracked ceiling, illuminating her flyaway curls from behind. “What do you think? Your core started working, I guess. It turned you into the human you, anyway. You went intangible or something. I pulled you out. You passed out, which is no surprise since you really should have died.” She gave a choked laugh that held an edge of hysteria. “I then sat next to you all night counting your breaths and heartbeats, and once the wind died down I listened to your bones grinding back into place.”

He sighed, and the pressure of such a deep inhalation nudged against healing flesh with the dull ache of a fresh bruise. “Thanks for pulling me out.”

She shrugged, and he realised that she no longer wore his jumpsuit. “It’s the least I could do.”

“I guess I am your ticket out of here,” he joked. “Have you heard any rescuers yet?”

“With the storm we had last night?” she scoffed. “I doubt their priority is an old collapsed building that they think is abandoned.”

She lapsed into silence, and Danny found himself picturing her sitting there, alone with his corpse still pinned down by the beam. He pushed the thought away. “My core’s still a bit fuzzy,” he confessed, “probably from the massive healing job. Give me a little longer before I try phasing us out. You wouldn’t want to get stuck halfway through a wall. Trust me, I’d know.”

She hummed. Wind wormed its way through the shattered structure, stirring the air with life. Danny laid his head back and listened as windswept leaves whispered in the spaces between soft bird calls somewhere beyond the walls.

“I don’t suppose you’ll keep my secret?” he finally asked.

She sighed, and hope leapt in his chest as she tapped a finger against her chin with an exaggeratedly thoughtful expression. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t just have an entire night to rethink everything I know about you.”

“And?” he pressed when she didn’t elaborate.

Her mouth curved, and he realised that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d witnessed her smile without malice. “I figured that I could use a bit of backup sometimes, y’know.” She held out a hand. “What do you say, Spooky? Partners?”

He took her hand and shook it with as much strength as he could. “Welcome to Team Phantom, Red.”

She broke their grip with a guffaw, her smile breaking into an outright grin. “Seriously? Team Phantom?”

He laughed too, even though it hurt, but then her words from a moment ago finally registered and the laughter died as quickly as it had come. “Wait a minute, did you just nickname me Spooky?”

She cackled, and as her eyes gleamed wickedly he almost wished he’d died after all. “Well, I guess I could always just call you Inviso-Bill!”

#ceciliaspen #Danny Phantom #holiday truce 2020 #Christmas truce 2020 #lexiepiper #You can pry the nickname headcanon from my cold dead hands #I hope you like the fic!

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moldisgoodforyou · 3 years

Text

rome (v)

wordcount: 8.2k oops

warnings: smut !! like a lot i'm a tiny bit embarrassed. also angst at the end !!

______

“You didn’t.”

Rafe gave her an apologetic smile as their train pulled out from the station in Florence, outside slowly blurring as the train picked up speed. “I think I might have.”

She let him be completely in charge of the transportation, hotels, everything - which turned out to be a terrible mistake, seeing as he’d never traveled on his own before (and had never planned anything in his life). She’d had to amend most of their plans already , as he just purchased without thinking of any logistics. Instead of buying a train ticket directly to Rome, he’d accidentally bought two tickets. One leg of the ride went an hour and a half to Pisa, then the other leg sent them on a four hour train ride along the western coast of Italy to Rome.

The two had nearly missed their fourth alarm, sleeping through the other three, and had to scramble out of bed with Sophie nearly in tears in order to throw their things into their suitcases and make it to the train on time. Rafe bought tickets in advance, like usual, but Sophie had forgotten to check over them once they printed from the kiosk and they hopped on their train just in time. After shoving their luggage onto the rack and returning to Sophie half-asleep in their seats, he realized his mistake when he re-read their tickets.

She sat up and rubbed her eyes blearily, frowning as she inspected the ticket and confirmed his confession. “How did you even manage that? There’s a direct transport to Rome.”

“I don’t know, the page was all in Italian! I don’t know Italian!” He defended, looking more and more worried by the second.

“Okay, baby, it’s okay. You’re fine.” She sighed. “Not the end of the world.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I’m not stressed.”

“You’re definitely stressed.”

“I’m a little stressed.” She admitted, handing the tickets back to him. “We also got back to the hostel at 3am and nearly missed the train and you got kissed by a random boy last night even though I didn’t listen to you when you said he was flirting and -”

“Hey.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his side, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “And I’m fine, and we’re both on the train, it’ll just take us a little longer to get there. We’re fine. Okay?”

“We’re fine.” She repeated like she was trying to convince herself, nodding. “We’re fine.”

“Exactly. Now I think you need to sleep, angel, at least until we get to Pisa. I can find us some breakfast.”

She lifted her head to squint at him. “Sorry, say that again?”

“You need to sleep?”

“No. The city we’re going to.”

“...Pisa?” He repeated, pronouncing it like “pie-za.”

Sophie shook her head. “Pisa, baby. Try again.”

He scoffed, pronouncing it his way again. “It’s definitely Pisa, Soph.”

“...Okay. You go around telling people you went to Pie-za, that’s fine with me.” She shook her head, settling back into his side. “Can you scratch my back?”

(It only took her a few minutes to fall asleep but she was pretty sure she heard him using Google Translate to see how Pisa was actually supposed to be pronounced when he thought she was sleeping.)

When they finally made it to Pisa, Rafe nudged Sophie awake and pretended not to notice when she swiped a tiny spot of drool away from her cheek. They were both starving and made the thirty minute walk to the Leaning Tower of Pisa just for kicks in their layover - she made him stop to buy her some overpriced crepes from a market stand along the way.

They were both extra tired when they returned to the train, tucking into each other’s side and using Sophie’s jean jacket as a makeshift blanket. He played with her hair idly, watching her as she was about to fall asleep again. “Soph?”

She shifted, trying to stay awake. “Yeah?”

“Are you tired of traveling?” He asked tentatively. “Like, are you ready to go home?”

“I think those are two different things.” She lifted her head a little to check over his expression. “Why?”

“I don’t know, just.” He started, shrugging, but only continued when she nodded to prompt him further. “You seem so much more confident here, you seem happier to me. If living here is something you’d want to do, I’d want you to consider that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, nervous for her reply. “Even if that means we would be apart for a little bit again.”

Sophie sat up completely so she could look him in the eye. “I love traveling, I really do. But I’ve also been homesick for three months - I miss my family, much more than I thought I would, I missed you like hell, and I miss having a routine.” She bit the inside of her cheek so she wouldn’t frown. “I haven’t been home to the Outer Banks since Christmas, and it’s August. That’s ages.”

He nodded and leaned forward, kissing her forehead. “I can go home with you, if you’d like? For the week before we have to go back to start school?”

“You’d do that? Even if you have to see your dad?”

“Yeah, of course I would.” He smiled, stroking his thumb over her cheekbone. She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes for a moment. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

“I’m glad you think I seem confident, because I have no idea what I’m doing half the time.” She smiled. “I feel much better with you around, I don’t think you realize how many days I cried when I first made it to Spain.”

He frowned, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close. “I don’t like hearing that. I hate it when you cry.”

“Sweet boy.” She grinned, lifting her head to nudge her lips against his chin. “I’m okay. You need sleep, you’re going soft on me.”

“Remind me how long my mistake is?”

“Four hours. We both need sleep and I can’t sleep if you’re moving around. We get to Rome around two.” She yawned, tucking her knees to her chest to keep herself warm. “Then you need a shower, you still smell a little bit like the club from last night.”

“Rude.” He leaned back anyways so she could be more comfortable. “G’night, angel.”

“Morning.” She corrected, seconds away from sleep.

He laughed, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Good morning.”

The train ride was fairly uneventful - every half hour or so, one of them would wake the other up for entertainment or to point out the window at a pretty view. At one point Rafe suggested they join the mile-high club - but for trains, aptly named by him as the “rail tail club” - she just glared at him and crossed her arms to go back to sleep.

They took advantage of the WiFi to cancel their hostel stay and actually move to a hotel instead - after what happened in Florence, Sophie decided they didn’t need the experience of making new friends. Rafe had to slyly hide the full bill from her when she asked how much it was. (He felt a little guilty seeing the relief on her face when he said it was cheaper than expected, but he swore he’d never put her through financial stress as long as he lived.)

When they finally arrived and walked the ten blocks to the hotel - with suitcases in tow, dodging other tourists and locals in the street - Rafe stripped off his clothes the second they walked into their hotel room. Sophie paused, watching him with amusement as the door clicked shut behind them. “What on earth are you doing?”

“I feel so gross.” He confessed, peeling off his socks and shoving off his shorts. “Why didn’t you make me shower last night?”

“You were drunk, baby, I had to haul you to the metro station.” She followed him into the bathroom and he turned in the shower, shutting the door so steam would fill the room. He raised his eyebrows. “You coming in or are you just gonna watch?”

“I’m too tired for sex.” She told him, hopping up to sit on the counter. He leaned over and gave her a quick kiss. “Okay. So let’s just shower.”

“Just shower? You gonna stick to that?” She let him tease the hem of her shirt up, slowly.

“Just shower. Please? I’ll wash your hair.” He encouraged, pressing a kiss to her forehead before turning to get in the shower.

“Hm.”

“I’ll wash your tits.”

He grinned when she gasped and reached out to swat his butt, making him jump before he stepped into the shower. “Or not! Whatever you’d like!”

She rolled her eyes and stripped down, joining him a few moments later. “You have a dirty mouth. I can’t let you keep getting away with that.”

He smirked, stepping close. “What are you gonna do about it? Punish me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” She challenged, backing him against the shower wall. He tried his best to hold back a laugh at how cute she looked, trying to seem all intimidating. “Yeah. You know I would.”

She leaned up for a kiss and he leaned down, eyes closing - until she suddenly pinched his nipple, twisting it. “Ow! Sophie!”

She cracked up laughing, getting under the shower spray and handed him the shampoo. “Wash my hair. I’m hungry, let’s go find food.”

“So demanding.” He complained, accepting the shampoo. “Turn around.”

“I said we’re not having sex -”

“I said turn around, not bend over.” He swapped places with her in the shower and started shampooing her hair carefully, adding the perfect amount of pressure and making sure he didn’t tangle her hair. She moaned quietly and he paused abruptly. “Sophie. Do not.”

“Rafe, keep going.” She whined, pressing her head back into his hand.

He grumbled, continuing his shampooing. “Quit making noises.”

“I can’t help it, it feels so good - hey!” She squeaked, whipping around to glare at him when he tugged on her hair at her scalp. “What the fuck!”

“You’re saying everything you say during sex!”

“Are you just constantly horny?” She scowled at him and shoved at his chest.

“Yes, you aren’t?” He argued, stepping aside so she could rinse her hair. She got under the shower spray to rinse and kept glaring at him until she squeezed some shampoo into her palm. “No. Come here.”

He ducked down a little so she could reach, humming contentedly as she ran her fingers through his strands. “Baby.”

“What.” She kept up her faux-anger, but wasn’t really too annoyed with him - he knew it, too.

“I love you.”

She softened, pressing a kiss to his shoulder as she continued to massage his head. “Love you too. Even if you are horny as hell.”

He laughed and accepted her little nudge under the shower so he could rinse her hair. “The showerhead is detachable…”

She looked him over, debating, but her stomach rumbled in protest. “I’m starving. Can’t you get yourself off? You did that just fine without me for three months, I’m sure.”

He laughed, leaning down to kiss her shortly. “I did, but it is criminal that we never had FaceTime sex.”

She raised her eyebrows. “My apartment walls were way too thin, and you definitely would have been caught at Colin’s house.” She reached down to run the tip of her finger under the length of his cock, grinning when it twitched. “Enjoy. I’m gonna get ready.”

“Sophie, baby -” He protested, reaching for her, but she just blew him a kiss and got out of the shower. She’d learned that quickies didn’t exist with Rafe, and if she started something in the shower it would be taken out to the bed, then probably go back to the shower afterward.

(She did her makeup in the bathroom just so she could hear his little groans - ones that he definitely played up for her.)

After going to dinner, and getting lost on their way back, they were both thoroughly exhausted for all their walking and their travels. When they crawled into bed after their showers, Sophie snuggled into his side, resting her head on his chest. “Hey, Rafe.”

“Mm?” He hummed, half-asleep already.

“Do you have any special requests for your birthday tomorrow?”

He smirked, sleepy. “Yeah, you wanna wake me up with sex?”

“Like, actually?”

He raised his eyebrows. “You’d do that?”

She shrugged. “If you want.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I mean, yeah, I wouldn’t complain. But just spending the day with you is more than enough.”

“Alright. What time were you born?”

“Uh…” He furrowed his brow. “7:12 am, I think. My mom used to wake me up for my birthday at that time on the dot, every year.”

“Aw. That’s sweet.” She typed something into her phone, then nodded. “Oh, you’re a Virgo rising. That makes so much sense.”

He frowned, sitting up a little. “I’m not a virgin, we had sex two days ago.”

Sophie giggled, not bothering to explain - she’d attempted to before when she was first getting into astrology, and he had just told her he didn’t believe in witches. “Has it been that long?”

“If that’s long to you, baby, I can’t even imagine how difficult three months was.” He quipped, closing his eyes and lying back down.

She rolled her eyes. “Good night. Love you.”

“Love you too.” He murmured, wrapping his arms around her and hugging her close.

The next morning, Sophie woke up and managed to slip out from Rafe’s side, ignoring his grumble and half-hearted, still-asleep attempt to keep her at his side. She went into the bathroom and brushed her teeth then changed into some new lingerie, feeling a little ridiculous, but hoped it’d be worth it. When she returned to the bed, she crawled on top of him, rocking her hips gently against his hard on. “Baby.” She whispered, trailing a finger down his chest.

He stirred only for a moment but pressed his hips up against hers. “Fuck, Sophie, more,” he said and she nearly laughed at his dream mumblings. She ducked down under the covers and kissed along his length, rubbing him gently over his boxers. He woke up just as she was pulling his boxers down, thoroughly confused. “Soph?”

“Good morning. Happy birthday.” She told him with a grin before taking him into her mouth, pushing on his thighs a little when he jerked in surprise.

“Am I still dreaming?” He muttered, pushing back the covers so he could see her head. She licked directly up the underside of his cock, tracing a vein with her tongue. “Nope. Not dreaming.”

“Holy shit.” He breathed out, watching her with wide eyes. “I don’t think I’m gonna last.”

“That’s okay, we can fuck again.” She grinned up at him before taking as much of him as she could into her mouth again, moaning around him. His eyes rolled back in his head and he gathered up her hair carefully. “Fuckin - fuck, angel, faster, please.”

She obeyed, moving her mouth and hand just a little faster. It wasn’t long until he was spilling into her and she swallowed, then kissed back up his body. “Hey.”

“Hey -” He breathed out, jaw hanging open, then stopped. “Wait, what are you wearing?” He took her in with a grin and grabbed his glasses off the nightstand table to get a better view of her, wanting to see her in her full glory. “Is that new?”

She laughed, tugging at her bra strap self-consciously. “Yeah. Thought I could save it as a special birthday surprise for you.”

“Holy fuck, Sophie.” He scrambled for his phone. “I need, like, a picture to remember this or something -”

She was turning red from all his compliments and covered her hand with her face as she whined. “Rafeeee.”

He tugged one hand away, grinning at her. “Please? Just one? Or more than one?”

“Um...okay. Fine. Where do you want me?”

His jaw dropped and he gaped at her, incredulous. “You’re serious? You’ll let me? For real, that’s actually okay with you?”

She bit her lip, smiling. “Yes. As long as you keep it in a locked folder on your phone.”

“Oh my god. I’m in heaven. Is this my birthday present, the lingerie? Or the pictures?” He leaned up to kiss her, needy, and groaned as she rocked against his hips to lean forward.

She pushed him back a little, rolling her eyes. “No, you have a real present.” She stuck her chest out, adjusting the bra so her breasts were nearly spilling out of it, and fluffed up her hair a little. “Snap away, Cameron.”

He paused, waiting for another nod from her, then started taking photos, his eyes blown wide. He reached up and ran his thumb over her lips - she bit down on it gently, smirking at his expression. Rafe groaned just as he looked at her adoringly. “You’re incredible. Beautiful. I need to tell you that more.”

“Shut up.” She blushed more, letting her hair fall in front of her face.

He drank the sight of her in, lingerie and all, then set his phone aside. Abruptly, he grabbed at her thighs to pull her up and she squeaked, caught off guard and fell forward onto him. “Rafe!”

“Come here. Sit on my face.” He commanded, dropping his head back to the pillow.

She pushed herself up to straddle his hips again, wearing an incredulous expression. “You’re insane. I’m not doing that.”

He laughed darkly and curled a possessive hand around her thigh, digging his fingers into her leg just enough. “Yes, you are. Come up here. I need you.”

She could feel her cheeks getting hot from his demanding tone, the way he was taking control. “Rafe, it’s your birthday. Let me just take care of you.”

“You did take care of me, now it’s my turn.” He moved his hand up her leg to rub across her clothed clit, grinning when she gasped and twitched at his touch. “Like you said, it’s my birthday, and what I want you to do is sit on my face. C’mon, baby. I know you’re just dripping for it, absolutely filthy -”

For a moment she nearly considered climbing up on his face right then and there just to get him to shut up, but got too shy and felt her face burning with embarrassment. “You can’t just say things like that.”

“No? You don’t like it?” He continued rubbing slow circles across her clit and grinned when she shifted onto his thigh and moaned. “Hm, that’s what I thought.”

“Rafe.” She protested weakly, her resolve thinning quickly as he flexed his thigh and pushed against her.

“You know what I want my present to be?” He asked.

She started grinding slow against his thigh, trying her best to keep her gaze locked on him. “Hm?”

“I want to make you come. Three times. I know I can, too.”

“I already got you a present.” She mumbled weakly, rocking against him a little faster as her brain began to cloud over. When he shifted a little and flexed his thigh again, she gasped, leaning forward a tiny bit.

He reached up and pushed one cup of her bra down, gripping her breast roughly and pinching her nipple. She bit her lip hard to keep quiet and he shook his head right away. “I want to hear you.”

“Someone’s going to hear.” She protested, whining quietly.

“Let them. I want everyone to know how good I can make you feel.” He shot back.

“We’re gonna get kicked out for a noise complaint.” She argued, rocking her hips a little faster.

“Good. I’ll know I’m doing my job right.”

“Trust me, that’s not an issue,” she muttered darkly, circling her hips on his leg. When she came, whining, she practically collapsed onto him, so sensitive she had to move so his leg wasn’t between hers anymore.

He didn’t care and flipped them over quickly, shoving the sheets down the bed and dragged her panties down and off her legs. “So fucking pretty. Look at you, all wet, you’re so desperate for me, aren’t you?”

“You are on something today, where’s all this coming from?” She shook her head, even though his dirty words had her turned on more than she ever thought they would.

He grinned and kissed up her inner thigh, spreading her legs apart. “You love it.”

“Hm. Do I?”

Rafe moved up to kiss her lips, then down her jaw, then to nip at her throat, although she certainly didn’t need the foreplay. He pulled teasingly on the ends of her hair, a little harder than usual, and stopped abruptly to look up at her when she moaned. “Oh, I forgot, you like it a little rougher, yeah?” He asked in a taunting tone.

She rolled her eyes as she blushed, thoroughly embarrassed by his teasing. “I mean. I wouldn’t mind.”

He paused, thinking. “Do you have anything specific you want to try?”

Sophie didn’t hesitate in responding, knowing she’d chicken out if she didn’t just say it. “Did you pack a tie?”

“...a tie? What for?” He shuffled out of bed, confused, but rifled through his suitcase until he found a nice silk tie, all wrinkled from being forgotten in a spare pocket. He tossed it at her but she held it out. “I can’t tie it myself.”

“Where’s it going?”

She bit her lip as she raised both hands above her head, her wrists pressed together. “Here? But not to the bed, I think that’d be too much.”

He gaped at her for the third time that morning. “You’re sure? You want that?”

“Yeah, is that okay?”

“Yes! Yes. Just unexpected, okay. Okay. We need, like, a safe word or something right, this is some fifty shades shit - is this gonna hurt you? Or fuck, do you want it to hurt?“

She held back a laugh, finding his rambling endearing. “It’s a silk J.Crew tie, baby, not rope. It’s okay. I’ll tell you to stop if I need it.”

“Right. Right. Have you done this before? You seem a little too chill about it.” He put the tie around her wrists hesitantly in a loose knot, making sure she was comfortable before he settled himself back between her legs.

Sophie gave him a little smile, blushing. “No, I just. Thought I might like it and I trust you.”

“Okay, so let me get this straight - you won’t sit on my face but you’ll let me tie you up?”

“It’s different.” She tried closing her legs but he pushed them back open and nipped at her thigh. “Hey. Behave.”

“Yeah? What if I don’t?” She challenged him with a grin, and he just shook his head and teased a finger across her entrance. “Trouble.”

“Rafe.”

“Yeah?” He moved impossibly slow, rubbing two gentle fingers over her clit - she squirmed under him, letting out a little whine. “No teasing.”

“Hm, I think I’m going to tease all I want, with you all tied up. Can’t take control like that.”

She groaned, blinking at him. “I’m already wet, I don’t need to be edged.”

He grinned up at her. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.”

“S’hardly dirty.” She countered, gasping when he caught her off guard with a wide lick up her entrance. “Fuck - I -” She started helplessly as she went to grab his hair, but just had to squirm instead with her hands above her head.

“Do we have plans today?” He questioned, breathing hot air on her clit as he slipped two fingers inside her and curled them toward herself.

“Not til later - oh, there, please -”

Rafe repeated his motions and flicked his tongue across her clit. “What are we doing?”

“Can we not discuss this now?” She argued breathlessly.

“Why, can’t concentrate?” He glanced up, amused. When she went to answer, he just sucked on her clit, making her gasp. “Answer the question, angel.”

“Rafe - fuckin’ - please -” She bit out, unable to think straight. “I’m so close, baby, more -”

He swore there was nothing he loved more than when she’d call him pet names, and the whine certainly added to it. Instead of teasing more, he curled his fingers again and flicked his tongue across her clit, working her through her second orgasm. She’d abandoned all pretense of keeping quiet and gasped out for him, arching her back as she came. When he withdrew his fingers and crawled back up the bed to press them against her lips, she took them easily.

“You are way too fucking good at that.” She breathed out, trying to grab for him again, but cursed when she remembered she was still tied up.

He reached up and untied her with a grin. “You okay? Did it feel alright?”

“Yeah, of course. Though I’m not sure I like not being able to touch you.” She smiled as he pressed gentle kisses to the inside of her wrists.

“Dunno, I think I like when you’re not ripping my hair out when you come.” He grinned, nudging his nose against hers.

She rolled her eyes. “You love that.” She took on a mocking tone, making her voice deeper to imitate him. “Pull my hair, baby - oh, fuck, yes -”

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.” He laughed. “Your sex noises are more embarrassing, anyways, all whiny.”

“They are not embarrassing -”

“You want to record them and see?” He raised his eyebrows, challenging her.

She blushed, shaking her head. “No. Absolutely not. You missed your chance for that the second you came here to see me.”

“Shame. Kind of unfair though, because you definitely got a voice memo or two.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’m pretty sure you sent one to me every time you jacked off, that was much more than just one or two. Took my invitation and ran with it.”

He laughed, then reached around and unclipped her bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside, then rested his head next to hers on the pillow. “I love you. So fucking much.”

“Happy birthday.” She smiled. “Love you too, sweet boy.”

He grinned, kissing her sweetly, then stroked his thumb over her cheekbone. “We’re not done yet. I promised you three times.”

She laughed. “Alright, just give me a second to catch my breath.”

Rafe raised his eyebrows with a smirk. “I’m that good, huh?”

She shoved at his shoulder, shaking her head. “You are too damn cocky for your own good. Oh! Here, let me get your present.” She hopped out of bed and pulled out a gift bag from her suitcase, all smushed down and wrinkled, and handed it to him. “Sorry it’s a mess, I had to pack it before you came.”

He sat up with an eager grin, pulling the covers over his lap. “S’okay, I’m sure it’s great.”

She pulled her underwear back on and pulled on a big shirt of his before crawling back into bed, watching him with a smile.

He unwrapped the gift and pulled out a leather jacket, whistling. “Wow! This is awesome, Sophie.”

She beamed, practically bouncing with excitement. “It’s custom fit to your measurements - I had Colin measure that jacket you always wear to be sure - and it’s ethically made. Well, as ethical as you can get with leather, but it’s handmade by this family in Barcelona, so there’s practically no carbon footprint. It’s neutral, at least. No sweatshops or anything.”

He wasn’t quite sure what all of that meant, but grinned at her enthusiasm. “It’s perfect, baby, thank you.”

“Happy birthday.”

Rafe held it up, looking at all the details, then he caught a glimpse of the tag and frowned. It was $300 - he wasn’t sure he wanted to know how many hours of work that was for her paycheck. “Sophie.”

“Just pretend you didn’t see!” She tucked it back in the jacket quickly, wincing.

“I swear this is a double standard...” He started, but decided not to finish his argument - the last thing he wanted to do with her on his birthday was fight about money.

“Don’t care. Let me treat you.” She beamed as he ran his fingers over the leather.

“You never let me treat you.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows and held up her hand with the ring as if to make her point, raising her eyebrows. “Never?”

“That was different, that’s a gift.” He pointed out.

“Yeah, so’s this. C’mon, put it on.”

“What? I’m all sweaty.”

“Just for a little bit.” She pleaded, pushing it toward him. “Please? I want a picture.”

“Oh, so you get nudes too? I thought that was a special birthday present.” He raised his eyebrows, challenging her, and she giggled. “The jacket is the present. Rafe, please?”

He made a show out of huffing and rolling his eyes but held out his hand, sitting up. She grinned and handed it to him, grabbing her phone when he shrugged it on. “Okay, lay back?”

“You’re directing me? Okay.” He laid back in bed, completely naked except for the jacket, his hand tucked behind his head. She beamed and climbed up on the bed to stand over him, just wearing his big t-shirt and her underwear, and arranged the sheets so they were just covering his dick, his chest on full display and his hip and thigh peeking out suggestively.

“Okay. Don’t smile.” She held her phone up high to get the right angle, laughing when he smirked up at her. “You’re so fucking hot.”

“Yeah? Do I get a picture of you in it too?”

“Nope.” She hopped off the bed and held her hand out expectantly for him to take the jacket off. He sat up and grabbed her hand, kissing the back of it. “Sophie. Shirt off.”

“No.”

He just raised his eyebrows and she gave in with a sigh, tugging it over her head. He nodded, satisfied, and helped her shrug the jacket on. “You’re easy when you’re cock drunk.”

She gasped, shoving at his shoulder. “I do not get cock drunk -”

“You absolutely do!” He laughed, swiping his phone from the bedside table. “C’mon. Pose for me.”

She pretended to blow him a kiss, striking a bunch of poses. He grinned, holding up his phone and taking way too many shots. “There we go, angel. I’m gonna send these in to Victoria’s Secret for you.”

She rolled her eyes and flipped him off for the camera, holding the jacket closed. “Shut up.”

“No. C’mere, pick out which ones I can keep.” He reached over and tugged on her arm and she shrugged off the jacket, carefully setting it on the chair before climbing back into bed, purposely dragging herself across him. He groaned. “Baby.”

“Yes.”

“Can’t do that. I’m almost hard again.”

“Okay. You can fuck me again.” She smirked up at him and he took a deep breath, then handed his phone over. “Choose your photos.”

She flicked through them and deleted a few, then grinned at the one of her flipping him off. Sophie cropped it in a little so it was much less suggestive, her chest mainly covered, and cut it off where the jacket ended, then set it as his lock screen. “There. Now you’ll always remember this whenever you look at your phone.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, there was no chance of me forgetting.” He smirked, glancing at the screen then gave her a sincere smile. “C’mon. We need to shower.”

“No.” She threw her leg over his hips, catching him with her ankle tucked around his thigh and leaned in to kiss him, hard. He groaned against her lips, pulling her closer on top of him. “Sophie.”

“Rafe.” She mumbled, nipping at his lower lip. He nudged his nose against her cheek. “Baby.”

“Just kissing, c’mon.” She argued, even though she rolled her hips against him, felt him stiffening against her, and knew exactly what she was doing.

“It’s never just kissing with you.”

“It was the very first time.” She grinned.

“When you kissed me drunk at the party and then rejected me?” He raised his eyebrows, clutching at his chest in mock pain. “Broke my heart, Flint.”

“And look, now you have me nearly naked in bed in Rome. I think you’re doing just fine, Cameron.” She quipped and he laughed. “Damn straight.” He gripped her hips when she moved to get off him, holding her in place. “Where are you going?”

“Want you on top.” She protested, grinding down against him. His breath caught in his throat and he flipped her over with ease, hooking his fingers in her underwear and dragged them off her legs, pushing one knee to her chest as he did. He reached to grab a condom off of the nightstand and rolled it down himself with a little groan, watching Sophie bite her lip. “Tell me how I got so lucky?”

“You’re such a romantic.” She teased, reaching out for him again. He leaned down and carefully slid into her, squeezing his eyes shut when she moaned at the feeling. “Can’t help it with you.”

“Cheesy.” She accused, gasping when he thrust a little harder.

“Mean.” He quipped, leaning down to kiss her, hard, and she responded eagerly. As much as he tried to hold back, they only lasted a few minutes before they were both coming again, Sophie biting down on his shoulder to keep quiet.

Rafe flicked her chest with a grin as he pulled out of her, shaking his head. “Did you just bite me?”

“We have two more days, we really can’t get kicked out for a noise complaint.” She giggled, smiling up at him with flushed cheeks.

___

The rest of the day was heaven for Rafe - Sophie was touchier than ever, even in public, and absolutely doted on him like it was her job. They wandered around a few tourist sites and by two pm, they’d already split three gelatos upon Rafe’s insistence they had to try ‘just one more flavor.’ He FaceTimed with Colin and James earlier in the day and was grinning ear to ear afterward, claiming multiple times that it was the best birthday he’d ever had.

Around six, after Sophie reluctantly agreed to their fourth gelato of the day, she waited outside in the sun as he went and got their cup to split. When Rafe returned from the shop with gelato for both of them, she covered her phone with her hand. “Thank you. I have someone on the phone for you.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Julia and Allie already texted me earlier today.”

She just smiled and handed him her phone - her dad waved at him with a grin on FaceTime. “Rafe, buddy, happy birthday!”

Rafe’s grin was so instantaneous it nearly hurt. “Jeff! Hi, thank you! That’s so nice of you to call!”

“Of course, had to check in on you. How’s your day, been good so far?”

Rafe blushed and shot her a panicked look as Sophie shot him a glare off-camera. “Yes sir, it’s been great. Sophie and I have been exploring the city and stuff, getting to know the history.”

“That’s great, I’m glad. Have any big plans tonight?”

Sophie scooted over so she was on screen. “We do, but he doesn’t know about them yet.”

“Ahh, a surprise. What else have you done, the Colosseum? Vatican City? Your mom would enjoy that.” Jeff grinned as Sophie rolled her eyes. “Dad, I’m not taking him to the Catholic Church on his birthday -”

“I know, Sophie, I was kidding.” He shook his head and Rafe held back a smile. “You have two weeks before school starts, right Soph?”

“Yeah, just need to do a few TA things and get my studio set up. Why?”

“I was thinking, we’d love to have you home for a weekend if you have time before classes start. Rafe, you’re welcome to come over as well.”

Rafe brightened as Sophie nudged her knee against his, smiling. “I’d like that. If Sophie’s not too busy, I mean.”

“No, I think I can figure that out. I miss you guys.” She smiled. “So Rafe gets to stay in my room, right?”

Her dad froze up for a second. “I was thinking the guest room or his own room at his house, actually -”

Rafe’s eyes went wide and he pinched Sophie’s thigh, shaking his head quickly. “I can stay at my house! That’s perfectly fine. She’s kidding. We’re in separate dorms on this trip, so it shouldn’t be any different -”

“Oh my god, no, you’ll stay in the guest room.” Sophie rolled her eyes. “Okay, dad, we have to go.”

“Right.” Her dad eyed them skeptically, then smiled. “Well, happy birthday, Rafe, hope it’s a good one. I’m excited to see you both soon.”

“I appreciate it, sir, that means a lot. Thank you.” Rafe beamed, but he could feel his neck getting hot, hoping her dad wouldn’t pick up on his terrible lying.

“Alright. Be safe, you two.” Her dad hung up and Sophie’s cheeks burned a little, feeling he was implying a double meaning. She swatted his chest. “Can’t you control your blush for two seconds?”

“No ma’am.” He replied with a grin. “That was so nice of your dad. Did you ask him to do that?”

“No, he just texted me and asked when he could call. He likes you. Even if you’re a shitty liar.” She gave him a pointed look and he just laughed.

“He’s cool.” Rafe nodded, satisfied. “Man, that was so nice. I can’t believe he thought of me.”

She paused, eating a spoonful of her gelato. “Has your dad said anything today?”

“No, he won’t unless Rose reminded him. But that’s unlikely.” He shrugged. “Sarah and Wheezie texted me, that was nice.”

“Your dad’s not going to call on your birthday?” She frowned.

Rafe shook his head. “No. I’m usually up at school by now anyways, so he forgets. He remembered senior year of high school, but that was because I had a party at my house and asked him if we could string up lights by the pool.”

“Oh. I don’t remember that party.”

He gave her a sheepish smile. “Yeah, uh, I didn’t invite you and your friends on purpose. Was trying to keep it lowkey, y’know.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Wait, was that the one that Cassidy Anderson got so drunk at, she had to get her stomach pumped? And Kyle Green broke his ankle -”

“When he tripped into the pool, yeah, that was the one. Word got around that I was having a party, I’m kinda surprised you didn’t end up there anyways.”

She laughed. “Carter went and texted me not to come, he thought the cops were going to show.”

He wrinkled his nose at the memory. “They did. It was bad, Shoupe told my dad and everything, I was in trouble for a month after that.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, skeptical. “I’m sure you being in trouble meant nothing.”

“No, he canceled my golf lessons. That was actually a big deal, he knew I liked them.” He frowned a little.

She bit her lip as she suddenly remembered - her dad came home and told her mom that the big tips from the Camerons were going away, that they’d have to cancel their flights to go visit her in Sophie's first semester of college because they needed the refund as a safety net. It was a big deal that they had even promised to come at all, usually her dad had to work weekends to fit in more lessons and he’d asked off just to come see her.

When Ward canceled the lessons, a few of Rafe’s buddies followed suit and canceled as well - she and Carter went around to every course in the area that week to put up flyers to get their dad more customers. She felt a momentary pang of guilt putting two and two together and shook her head, trying to redirect the conversation. “Right. Um, so you want to head back to the hotel, get ready for dinner? I made a reservation for us at 7.”

“Yeah. You alright?”

She gave him a slightly forced smile. “I’m alright. Let’s go, birthday boy.”

He narrowed his eyes a little, but didn’t push it.

Dinner that night was on the rooftop of a hotel overlooking Rome, and they both dressed nicer than they had the whole trip, with her in a cream colored silk slip dress to complement her tan and him in a pair of nice slacks and a sleek short-sleeved button down. When their waiter came out to greet them with a drink menu, he glanced at Sophie’s attire and her ring and raised his eyebrows. “You are the honeymooners, yes?”

She blushed, shaking her head. “No, sir, the birthday. Under Sophie Flint.”

“Oh! The white dress, I was confused.” Their waiter gave them an apologetic smile. “Here is your drink menu, I will be back.” He returned later with two glasses of complimentary champagne, as well as the bottle of wine they ordered, and apologized again.

When he left, Rafe lifted his glass with a cheeky grin. “To my blushing bride.”

She scowled and stopped just short of kicking him under the table. “Shut the fuck up. Happy birthday.” She clinked her glass against his, shaking her head as he cracked up, thinking it was hilarious. “You’re not allowed to buy me any more rings, this just causes trouble.”

“Good trouble.” He protested and took off his signet ring with his initials, sliding it onto her thumb. “C’mon, you hardly wear any other jewelry daily. I like buying you things.”

“I know you do.” She rolled her eyes and pushed the menu to him. “Here. It’s our last night so go crazy.”

He paused, scanning over the menu. “Are we splitting this?”

“No, it’s your birthday dinner. My treat.” She frowned when he flipped the menu to just the entrees without any meat or fish. “No worrying about money.”

“I’m not. The carbonara at the other table looked good.” He replied, wishing he’d looked at how much the wine was that she ordered and made a mental note to pay for all their meals in the airport.

“You don’t like carbonara.”

“Maybe I do here.”

“Rafe.” She reached over and flicked the menu back to the more expensive options. “Do not hold back. I’m serious. I got this reservation back in June and I have more money left in my budget for this trip than I thought I would by now. Let me do this for you.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure. And if you really want the carbonara, I’m getting it, so you can have some.”

He laughed as she reached over and refilled his wine glass. “Trying to get me drunk so I’ll give in?”

“Yeah, will it work?” She grinned.

He just shook his head and took a sip with a smile. “You’re spoiling me today.”

“Yeah, you deserve it.”

They were both giggly and drunk by the time they made it back to their hotel, after missing their metro stop twice. When they finally showered and collapsed into bed - to actually sleep, that time - Rafe hugged her close and pressed his lips to the top of her head. “I love you, Sophie. Thank you. So much.”

“Love you too, baby.” She murmured. “My favorite.”

When Rafe’s watch buzzed at 1am the next morning, he stirred a little, going to turn it off, but paused when he saw he had a call from his dad. He carefully untangled himself from Sophie’s koala grip and slipped out of bed, tugging on some joggers and a shirt before heading out to the hotel lobby to answer the call. “Dad? Is something wrong?”

“Can’t I wish my son a happy birthday?” Ward asked.

Rafe relaxed a little bit, settling back against a couch. “Yeah, um, it’s just early. I figured something was wrong with Wheezie or Sarah.”

“Ohio’s got the same time as the Outer Banks, kid.”

“I’m on that trip with Sophie, remember, I told you about it in June? We’re in Rome. I’m going home soon.”

Ward’s tone turned slightly sour as he was reminded. “Right. Forgot. You went all the way across the world for this girl?”

Rafe dug his fingernails into his palm, keeping his tone even. “For my girlfriend, yes. I love her.”

Ward sighed. “I’m sure you think you do, Rafe.”

“I know I do.”

His dad paused before speaking again. “I just don’t understand. You had a perfectly good thing going with Brooklyn, she has a great family. She’s used to our lifestyle.”

Rafe was exasperated, as well as exhausted, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “She cheated on me, Dad. Do we have to talk about this now?”

“Must have done something to fuck it up.” Ward shot back, taking on a defensive tone.

Sophie had realized she was alone in bed by then and crept out of their room, following the muffled sound of his voice to find him in the lobby. She crossed her arms, frowning, and mouthed ‘come back to sleep.’

Rafe motioned her away and gave her a fake smile, shaking his head. She frowned, not convinced, and came up behind him on the couch, slipping her arms around his shoulders and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

“I didn’t do anything.” Rafe replied curtly, standing to follow her back to the room. He lowered the volume on his phone so Sophie couldn’t hear a single word.

“Right.” Ward was unconvinced. “I’m sure this girl is just with you to get money out of you, don’t let yourself be fooled. I didn’t work this hard for our family just to let you think you’re in love with someone that can’t provide.”

Rafe was too tired to argue and kept his face impassive, wanting to end the conversation sooner than later with Sophie there. “That’s not it.” She took his hand and led him back to their room, staying quiet but watching his expression carefully.

“I’m just looking out for you.” Ward insisted. “You didn’t - you didn’t knock her up. Did you?” He questioned and Rafe wrinkled his nose a tiny bit at his accusatory tone. “No, Dad, of course not.”

Sophie raised her eyebrows, surprised that Ward had called, and let them both back into the room. Rafe gave her a quick smile and shut himself in the bathroom, not wanting her to hear any more.

“Oh. Well. Just, be careful.”

“I am. Uh, thanks for calling, I guess.”

“Right. Happy birthday. 21, right?”

Rafe’s face twisted and he was surprised to feel a few tears running down his cheeks as he leaned back against the wall, head hung low. “Close. 22.”

Ward made a small ‘huh’ noise. “22, I knew that. Night, son.”

When Rafe hung up, he let out a choked laugh, pressing the heels of his hands hard against his eyes. Even if it was the first time in a while his dad had called on his birthday, he still couldn’t even remember his age.

Carefully, Sophie opened the door, peering in. “Baby? Are you alright?”

He turned to her with tears in his eyes, trying his best to force a smile, but she realized right away and pulled him into a hug, holding him tight. “Come back to bed, Rafe.”

He followed her out and crawled back into bed with her, burying his face against her chest as she combed through his hair. “I deserve better.” He mumbled brokenly.

She frowned. “Of course you do, baby. I’m sorry. What’d he say?”

“Doesn’t matter.” He muttered, and he was so tired that he let his guard down to cry, shoulders shaking a little as he did. Sophie practically clung to him, letting him bury his face in her neck as she stroked her back. “It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re alright.” She whispered.

He nodded a little, nudging his leg over her waist to draw her closer. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Rafe, so goddamn much.”

“What time’s our flight tomorrow?” He mumbled against her skin.

“Not til six, we can sleep in if you want.” She pulled back just a little to kiss him, peppering kisses over his cheeks. “I love you. No matter what anyone says.”

He frowned and her heart broke just looking at how defeated he seemed. “You didn’t hear, did you?”

“No. It’s okay. You gotta sleep, baby.” Sophie pulled the blankets back over them, nudging him up so his head was properly set on the pillow, even though she knew he’d have his head on her chest by the time she woke up.

“Soph?” He whispered after a few seconds, sounding close to sleep again.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

She squeezed his hand gently. “Of course. I’m here for you, no matter what.”

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #obx fanfic #college rafe #rafe x sophie #mine #frat rafe #outer banks fanfic #obx #outer banks

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weelittleweasley · 4 years

Text

Amortentia | Draco x Reader

Prompt: After having a large crush on Draco for two years, you decide to move on for your own sake. But what happens when you are in potions class and what you smell is not that of your current boyfriend, but of an old flame?

Warnings: angst, a lil fluff at the end

Requests status: Open and ready for some requests

A/N: New fandom, same old writer hehe. I thought I’d come back after a long hiatus and write a little something. Quarantine/the pandemic has me back in my teenage self. In this, we go through year 4 to year 6, so GoF to HBP :)

The bellows of the professor at the front of the classroom fall into muffled murmurs as you go in and out of daydreams, fiddling with the quill in your writing hand. As you draw nonsense pictures in the margins in your notebook, you fantasize scenarios in your head of the boy you’ve had your eye on since the beginning of year four at Hogwarts. In your head, it all made sense. The two of you were pure blood Slytherins, competitive and ballsy, ready to fight at a moment’s notice. That’s what you adored so much about the blonde boy. He may have his moments, but he always seemed to be ready for whatever.

The corners of your mouth twirl upwards into a smile as you think about being able to wear his jumper, smelling his cologne on the collar. You think about his hands on your hip bones, squeezing them lightly as he peppers small, soft kisses on your neck and collarbones. Yearning to lace your fingers with his as he dips down his head to place a tender kiss to your l-

“Miss (Y/L/N), do you have anything to add?” Professor Moody snaps you from your daydream as you sit straight up, feet planted on the foot, picking your quill up back in writing position. You clear your throat and shake your head back and forth. “If you have nothing to add, I’d recommend you quit daydreaming and focus on what is going on at the front of the classroom.”

You breathe out a small, “Yessir,” before returning your attention back to your work. Small giggles are let out across the classroom, relishing in your embarrassment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you try to make yourself smaller by sinking into your chair a little and ducking your head downward. Peering up through your eyelashes, you try to sneak a look a Draco who is seated only two tables ahead and to the left of you. As you do so, you see that he was looking at you the whole time, him chuckling with Blaise Zabini before returning their focus to the blackboard. Embarrassment washes over you yet again, caught in the act of looking at the boy you fancied.

Within the hour, Moody dismisses class and you gather your things swiftly, trying to leave class without Moody stopping you to ask why your mind was elsewhere today. As you fling your satchel across your body and tuck your notebook under your arm, you scurry out the door only to be stopped by Blaise.

“Would you move it, Zabini? I have to get to astronomy,” you push Blaises large chest with your hand, before booking it in the opposite direction. You can’t escape him, or so it seems, because he walks beside you now down the corridor to your next class. “Are you obsessed with me or something? What’s your deal?”

Blaise laughs, “I didn’t know that you get so distracted during class, doodling and dreaming, (Y/N). What’s more interesting than a class with Moody?” He nudges his shoulder into you, making you stumble a little bit as you walk.

Now getting really annoyed since he brought up what happened in class, you stop in your tracks and hit him with your notebook. “Leave. Me. Alone. You. Arse,” you speak in between slaps and Blaise just laughs as you swat him. Before you can walk away from him, he quickly snatches your notebook from your hands and your eyes grow wide. If he flipped through the pages just right, he could see all of your Draco doodles. “Hey, give that back! That’s private!”

You jump for your notebook, but with no avail since Blaise was significantly taller than you. He carelessly flips through pages, “Now what does Miss (Y/L/N) write about in class? Taking diligent notes?” With one final shove, your notebook falls onto the ground, wide open to the page where you have written Draco Malfoy in script in the margins of your notebook, so much so that it creates a border around your note in the center of the page. Blaise lets out a deep chuckle, “Ho-ho! That’s where little Miss (Y/L/N)’s thoughts have been! The Slytherin Prince!”

Before Blaise can torment you anymore, you grab your notebook off the floor and slam it shut. Your heart is racing, Blaise is in Draco’s inner circle and if Blaise knew about your crush, that meant Draco was bound to find out. Your anxiety swells and your chest tightens. Your grip becomes iron on your notebook now, unwilling to surrender it if someone dares to snatch it away from you again. You look up at Blaise and if you look up any longer at the shit-eating grin he has on his face, you’ll start crying. As if this day could not get any worse. Blaise immediately recognizes your facial expression as a girl who has just been hurt and he instantly retaliates, regretting what he just did. “I told you that was private,” you manage to speak out before walking away briskly.

The sound of quickened footsteps follow you and Blaise voice says, “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to hurt you. I just thought we were having fun, that’s all!” he attempts to rationalize. You ignore his feeble attempt at an apology. “I won’t tell Malfoy. It’ll just inflate his ego,” he attempts to humor you.

“I would hope not. That would be the most human thing to do,” you spit at him. “Just leave me alone, okay? I think you’ve done enough damage for today.”

“(Y/N)!” Blaise calls out before you turn around to enter your next class. “Please. I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean it.”

You look at him and by the look on his face, you can tell he means it, which is surprising. You sigh, “I believe you. Just...don’t do it again. And please, don’t tell...” you don’t want to say his name in fear if you say it, he’ll come right around the corner. “...him.”

Blaise offers you a warm smile. “Your secret is safe with me.” You let go of your held breath, some tension releasing from your shoulders. “Can I just ask? What is the fascination of him? Is it his hair?” he asks, making you laugh lightly. There were many reasons you liked Draco; his personality, his smile, his drive, the cool blue gray color of his eyes, the way his nose scrunched up when he laughed. There was so much to like. Blaise notices your pregnant pause and smiles, “Never mind me asking. I have a feeling it will take too long to get your response.”

“Goodbye, Zabini,” you trail off, trying to slip into your class before he stops you yet again.

“Wait! Um,” Blaise stutters. “So, the Yule Ball is coming up soon. And I know maybe you were hoping to get asked by a certain...someone else,” he winks as you roll your eyes, “but I was wondering if you wanted to go with me?” he delivers the last part confidently, like he was giving you a sales pitch.

You quickly thought about it. Although the chances of Draco asking you were slim to none, you still were holding out that maybe he noticed you and wanted to take you to the Yule Ball. But the proposition with Blaise sounded like fun. Blaise knew how to have a good time and you rather go with another Slytherin than with some half-blood from another house. And as selfish as it was to say, you would probably be invited to get ready with the other Slytherin girls like Pansy which meant more time to see Draco. Offering him a sweet smile you reply, “I’d like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to go to class, Zabini.”

Blaise smiles and lightly blushes, but turns away, hoping you would not catch it. But you did before you slipped into your astronomy class before the professor started.

Soon enough, the Yule Ball rolled around and like you had previously thought, you found yourself in Pansy’s room, getting ready for the ball. You lightly tugged the rollers out of Pansy’s hair, helping her finish getting ready as she rambles on and on to Daphne Greengrass about their magical creatures class. A small smile tugs on your lips as you remain bystander to the conversation, enjoying the ridiculousness of the conversation. Your thoughts are disturbed when Pansy says, “Oh, wow, (Y/N). When you said you could do hair, you meant it!” She shakes her head side to side, causing her loose curls to shimmy across her shoulders. You had to admit she looked beautiful.

You shrug, “Don’t mention it. Could you zip up the back of my dress?” You turn around, feeling the zipper close, the dress fitting around your figure tighter. When you turn around, you take a look at yourself in the mirror. Iridescent green fabric clung to your body fabulously, a deep v plunging down to your chest, your dècolletage shimmering in the light. It was a stunning dress; your mom had sent it over from London. It was her dress when she went to the Yule Ball at your age.

“You look radiant,” Daphne tells you, placing her hands on your shoulders. “Blaise is going to be drooling.” Pansy and Daphne giggle, hoping you would join in. But you just offer them a small smile in return, secretly wishing there was another boy who would be gawking over how radiant you looked. “Something wrong?” Daphne asks.

Pansy looks at your face, “Do you not wanna go to the ball anymore?”

“No!” you exclaim. “I do! I do want to go!” You calm down both the girls as they dramatically sigh. “I just did not picture myself going to the ball with Blaise,” you confess.

The girls exchange confused expressions before looking back at you. “What do you mean? Do you not fancy Blaise?” Pansy asks.

“No! I like Blaise! He’s a charming boy, don’t get me wrong. And he’s very handsome.”

“So, what’s the problem?” Pansy asks.

He’s not Draco, you think to yourself. But instead of that you say, “I just fancy someone else.” That was probably too much information to give to the girls, you know they would take and spread some sort of rumor, but you give them the benefit of the doubt. “This does not leave this room,” you say sternly. You extend both of your pinky fingers to Daphne and Pansy, making them pinky promise and kiss their thumbs: your ritual for making promises.

“So...” Daphne starts. “Can we know who you do fancy then?”

Your anxiety peaks again. If you even murmured that you liked Draco, Pansy would probably loose her mind. Pansy basically called dibs on Draco when you stepped foot at Hogwarts. In all seriousness, Pansy has fancied Draco longer than you, so it just seemed inconsiderate and rude to tell her that you had feelings for the same platinum haired boy. “You’ll find out later. Besides, we should get going now,” you change the subject.

You make your way down the stairs and the winding halls of Hogwarts before arriving at a tall staircase leading to the Ball’s entrance. Your arms are linked with both Daphne and Pansy’s as you descend the staircase. Your eyes roam the floor, looking for a certain blonde haired Slytherin and you almost immediately find him. And to your surprise, his eyes have found you. Your pair of eyes burns into his, creating a tunnel vision. The orchestra that plays in the other room becomes white noise and everyone else seems to disappear. It is just you and him now. He look absolutely dashing. His suit fits him excellently and his hair is perfectly swept back. His eyes are open in wonder as he watches you descent the staircase, looking absolutely regal. This moment feels like forever and you never wanted it to end. But it sadly does when you both realize you haven’t looked at either of your actual dates to the ball. Your eyes drift away from his blue ones and they meet Blaise’s brown ones instead. He is smiling big at you which makes you laugh. When you make it down the stairs, he meets you at the bottom and grabs your hand like an absolute gentleman. “You are unearthly, (Y/L/N),” he whispers before kissing the back of your hand.

Smiling at the compliment, you thank him. “You are not too bad yourself, Zabini.” He did look great. His suit was tailored perfectly to his tall, muscular figure and his shoes were shined so bright that you could practically see your reflection in them.

“Shall we head in there?” he asks, offering his arm to you to hold. You smile and take his arm. But not before taking one look at Draco. He kisses Pansy’s hand gently, but as he does this, his gaze is on you the whole time and only breaks when he comes back up to look at Pansy and give her a smile.

This was going to be a long night.

Since that night, your relationship with Blaise grew. You went from friends, to something more than friends, to boyfriend and girlfriend. You didn’t expect to end up dating Zabini after the Yule Ball, but you decided that maybe pursing something with him was more realistic than chasing after Draco. He obviously had a thing for Pansy and Pansy for him and who were you to ruin that? So you let yourself use Blaise as a distraction or someone else to focus on rather than pining over Draco. However, it did drive you mad when you would all be in Slytherin common room and you sat on the floor next to Blaise and Pansy would sit on Draco’s lap when there was plenty of room on the couch. You also did not feel bad when Blaise would make fun on Pansy having an obvious crush on him. You would hide your laugh as Blaise pulled you closer to him.

That being said, as you got closer with Blaise, you got closer with his friends. Which meant having to face Draco and swallow your feelings. You always felt like such a poser when you were with Blaise. You knew it was wrong to date someone who genuinely liked you and you liked someone else. But you just crossed your fingers and hoped that your feelings for Malfoy would melt away and your feelings for Blaise would grow. Of course, with your luck, nothing happened. Your feelings for Draco were just solidified if anything. He was cheeky and smart mouthed, which you just loved. He kept you on your toes. Blaise wasn’t like that; he was predictable. Draco would make jokes that only you two would hear and you would laugh until your ribs shook. Blaise has never done that. But it wasn’t right to compare Blaise to Draco; it was an unfair competition.

Regardless, you stayed with Blaise. Too afraid to break up with him and too afraid to tell Draco how you felt, you stayed in a relationship where you lied not only to yourself but to another person every day. A good person at that. Blaise was a great guy and every day you held his hand, shared a kiss, cuddled up together, you felt guilty. You were hurting him more and more with everyday. And you were hurting yourself by being in this relationship for so long. But you stayed.

Back in a classroom, this time Slughorn’s potions class, you stood next to Pansy waiting for the class to begin. You looked across the room to see your boyfriend toss you a wink as you lightly smiled. “I love you,” he mouthed as you sighed.

You did love Blaise. So much. But not in the way he wanted. And yet, here you were, mouthing an “I love you too” back to him, causing him to smile wide. You turn to Pansy, “So what are we supposed to be doing today? If it’s boring, I’m going to use the washroom.” Using the washroom was always code for going back to your room.

Pansy giggled, “Today’s class should be good. I heard Slughorn has Amortentia today.” Your heart sank. Amortentia: the most powerful love potion in the world. People say that it smells different for everyone according to what they are most attracted to. “Your should be easy. Smells just like Zabini I bet,” she nudges your side as you offer a convincing smile and girlish giggle. “I’m sure I know what mine smells of...” she trails off before looking over to Draco who was too involved talking to Zabini to notice her gaze.

Slughorn starts class, reciting off lists of potions to which Granger completes his every question without fail. You roll your eyes, “Some people are just such show offs,” you whisper to Pansy, making her laugh. You join her, causing Draco to look your way, more interested in what you were laughing at rather than the lesson Slughorn was giving. You look away from Draco and focus back on the lesson, hoping it would distract you from those familiar gray eyes.

Hermoine talks more about Amortentia before prompting Slughorn to ask your classmates to come up at random and speak what they smell. Granger goes first and describes a horrific combination of mowed grass and spearmint toothpaste. Others go after and then Blaise volunteers to go next. “Mr. Zabini, please, go head,” Slughorn says before Blaise steps up to the small caldron and take a whiff.

“I smell...morning rain...vanilla...and jasmine,” he smiles as he finishes his sentence, looking right at you. Your heart sinks. Blaise had smelt your perfume and everyone in the class knew it. Those who were friends with him laughed as Pansy let out an ooooh. You told her to shut up with a jab to the side as she continued to tease you.

“Miss (Y/L/N), you’ve been awfully quiet this class. How about you come up and smell?” Slughorn proposes.

You freeze. Absolutely not. There was no way you were going to get up there and smell the Amortentia. You knew exactly what you were going to smell and you were not prepared to tell the class and your boyfriend that what you were smelling was Draco Malfoy.

“I’m fine, actually.”

“That was less of a question and more of a demand, Miss (Y/L/N),” Slughorn rephrases, earning a few laughs from Gryffindors to which you shoot them a dirty look, causing them to stop. “Well?”

You look at Slughorn and gulp. He offers you a gentle smile and you can’t deny the man any further. You sigh and slowly walk up to the caldron. You are a foot away and already the scent slaps you in the face. It almost makes you cough from how strong it is. Right next to the pot, you look down at the bubbling liquid with pink fumes evaporating from it. Closing your eyes and iInhaling deeply, you get chills. The scent makes you forget where you are. What time it is. Who is watching. It’s euphoric. It’s perfect. It’s him. The smell of musky cologne, leather polish, and green apples dance around your nose and your stomach erupts with butterflies.

“What do you smell?” Slughorn asks, snapping you out of your daydream.

“I’m sorry?” you ask.

“What do you smell?” he repeats.

Suddenly, you remember that you have to tell the class what you are smelling. Or who you are smelling. Once you said what you smelled, everyone would know who you were talking about. Pansy would know. Blaise would know. Draco would know. You try to think. What in the world does Blaise smell like? Can you lie about this stuff? For Merlin’s sake, what does Blaise smell like?! “Um...” you try to concoct your way out of this situation. You try to think of what your boyfriend smells like, but the scent of Malfoy is clogging every single sense.

“Say it then,” Slughorn urges you.

“Cologne, leather polish, and green apples,” you blurt, confessing what you were most afraid of to the class. You slowly open your eyes and see the smile that was once on Blaise face quickly fall. His eyes pang with hurt and pain and your heart drops into your stomach. You wanna run over to him and tell him how sorry you were and how much you loved him, but this thing with the Slytherin prince was unshakeable. Too hurt to look at Blaise anymore, you glance at Pansy, who is just enraged. Her ears are bright red, eye locked onto you, unwavering. Her eyes dig into your soul and you can hear her saying in your head, “You’re bloody joking, right?” You don’t dare look at Draco, but in the periphery you see him just staring at you, lips parted, breathing softly, eyes burning into the back of your head.

Slughorn notices the tension and attempts to diffuse the situation. “Alright, everyone take your seats,” he dismisses. You walk quickly to Pansy who swiftly moves away to you and toward Blaise who sits with Draco, taking up a whole table with no room for you like usual. Instead, you find yourself sitting with random Ravenclaws for the rest of class, unable to think straight about what just happened. The look on Blaise’s face was enough to have you in tears and the look of betrayal on Pansy’s face drove you mad. You spent the whole class thinking, what have I done?

As soon as class is dismissed, you watch Blaise’s movements, wanting to catch him or Pansy after class. Pansy leaps off her chair and to the door and you quickly follow suit. “Pansy!” you call after her. “Pans, please! Please can we talk about this? Please do not shut me out!”

“Why not?” she yells back. “You lied to me! You could have told me how you felt! You knew how i felt and yet you still lied to me!”

“I know, but I thought what you didn’t know wouldn’t hurt you. But I just ended up hurting you anyway and I am sorry, Pansy. I am so sorry,” you attempt to reconcile with your best friend as she fumes.

Pansy shakes her head. “I just need space. Away from you. Can you at least respect that?” she sarcastically says. “There’s someone else you owe a bigger apology to,” she tells you before trotting away down the hall back to the Slytherin common room.

You turn around and there stands Blaise, stoic and tall. His eyes are soft and full of so much pain. You could cry. You start to cry. “Blaise,” you croak out. “I didn't mean to hurt you. Please know that is the last thing I wanted to do. When you asked me to the Yule Ball, I thought that it would be a good way to get over Draco, but I-I don’t know what happened? Nothing happened, I guess. I value you and your friendship so much. Blaise, I love you, I’m so sorry. I thought not tell you how I really, truly felt would protect you.”

Blaise sighs, “(Y/N), I know you didn’t mean to. For Merlin’s sake, I’m not a git. I knew you still liked Malfoy.” Your eyes widen. Huh? Before you could ask every single question that flurried into your brain, Blaise stops you and says, “From that moment in the hallway during year four until now, I knew. I thought that the longer I stayed with you, I could convince you that I could love you more than he could. But I don’t think that’s true...(Y/N), I love you. What either of us did was not right and I think we just need space from each other right now.”

You shake your head. You couldn’t lose Pansy and Blaise. That would be too much. “No, I can’t lose you, Blaise. I need you,” you beg, holding onto his forearms.

“It isn’t for forever, darling. Just for a little. I think we both a need a little space from each other right now,” he holds your face in one of his hands and you lean into his touch, soothing you almost instantly like it has done so many times before. “I’ll see you soon, okay?” You nod, him wiping away your tears before replacing it with a gentle kiss on the apple of your cheek. “Besides, I think you have to talk to someone else,” he whispers in your ear, before walking away, revealing Draco standing behind him.

Your breath hitches in your throat. His eyes burn into yours just like that night at the Yule Ball. A small smile on his lips dances as a last tear strolls down your cheek. He takes a few steps towards you and you instinctively take a few steps back. Draco looks a little hurt that you moved away from him so quickly. You gulp, not knowing what to say, what to do. Who would in a situation like this? Lightly sniffling, you wipe away your tears with the sleeve of your robe, not breaking eye contact with him. Draco opens up his mouth to say something, but then chooses not to. He closes his mouth, pressing his lips into a line, thinking of what to say. You watch him think, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he finds the right words to say.

“Uh,” he starts. “How lo-”

“Year four,” you answer, knowing exactly what he was going to say.

He lightly laughs at how prepared you were to answer him. He nods. “I thought,” he lightly speaks, looking at you with a small smile. He is trying so hard to get you to open up to him. Or even crack a small smile at him. But that seemed really impossible right now. The two people who you cared about more than anything just told you they needed time away from you. You felt like an awful person. Although you should be in Draco’s arm right now, stroking his hair, kissing his lips, telling him how happy you were, you were standing four feet away from him, a shaking mess, tears still flowing from your eyes. “Here,” he reaches into his pocket and offers you a handkerchief.

“Thanks,” you mumble, accepting his token, blotting your eyes with the green silky cloth. You blow your nose into it, loudly. You look at him, watching his reaction, wondering if you should return a snotty handkerchief. “I...I can wash it for you.”

He chuckles, “Don’t worry about it. Keep it if you need it.” You smile and tug it away in your bag. Silence falls over you two again. “Can I stand next to you?” he asks permission, knowing how fragile you are right now. You nod and he slowly makes his way towards you, stopping about three inches away from you. Your breath hitches in your throat when you look up and see the proximity of your faces from each other. “May I hold you hand?” he asks, you shaking your head yes slowly. With that, he grabs your left hand in his large hand, pressing yours flat against his before intertwining the fingers. It makes you smile softly which makes his heart flutter at your excitement. Draco so desperately wants to hug you, squeeze you, kiss you. But he knows he needs tread lightly. “I wanted to take you to the Yule Ball,” he confesses as he looks at your hands intertwined.

Your head shoots up and your eyebrows furrow. “You did?” you ask, not believing him. He shakes his head yes. You pause. This made no sense. “Then why didn’t you ask me?” you ask.

Draco sighs. “I didn’t know you well. Zabini said he wanted to ask you. I stepped back.” So much has happened today you cannot wrap your brain around what has just been said. “But now...I know you better. And now that you and Zabini are no longer...” he trails off, looking up at you with those chilling blue eyes that make your knees weak and heart putty.

You want to scream yes. Wrap your arms around him. Kiss him. Hard. Breath in his scent that has haunted you for nights on end. Finally, he was yours. You were his. But that would not be right. It wouldn’t be fair to Blaise. Or Pansy. Or you. Or Draco. You needed time. “Draco...” you say, breathily.

“Yes?” he asks, eyes so bright and shimmering with so much hope and longing. Merlin’s beard, he wanted to kiss your tear stained cheeks and hold you close, bodies becoming one. “Is something wrong?” he asks, worry creeping into his words, his free hand that isn’t holding your hand, cups your cheek. “Please tell me. I don’t want to wait any longer. I can’t wait any longer.”

His words make your heart break, knowing that you needed to wait longer. Just a little bit longer. “Draco...” you repeat, the tears welling back up in your eyes, slowly dripping own your cheek, but Draco is quick to wipe them away. “I...” you start, but your voice fails you.

“Take your time,” he breathes. Oh, how he was so right.

“I need time,” you repeat after him.

“Yes, take your time. Breathe,” he says, thinking that what you are saying is applying to just now.

“No, Draco,” you tell him, reaching up to his wrist, pushing his hand away from your face. “I need time. To process this. Blaise, Pansy...us...I need time.”

His eyes fall and the once happy expression on his face is fading fast. But he knows that you were right. It would be too fast. Too much for the both of you. You both needed time to think, recover, and come back to each other.

“And I will wait for you,” he reassures you, both of his hands cupping your small ones. “If I waited this long already, I can wait a little while longer.”

It’s like he knew exactly what to say. His words make you smile softly and you feel just a little bit better. Your smile makes me him smile. So you just stand there, your hand in his two large ones, smiling at each other. He places a tender kiss on your knuckles and then another to your forehead. His actions make your heart flutter, knowing that if this is what a relationship with Draco was like right now, you were in for a treat. You whisper a weak thank you and he shakes his head, laughing that you would thank him for something like this.

“Now go get some rest, darling,” he presses his forehead against yours and you flutter your eyes closed, loving the feeling of him being so close to you. It felt so good to finally have him next to you. You pull away, give him a gentle smile, and start to walk back to the Slytherin common room.

Draco watches you walk away, down the hall. In his head, he thought to himself, I can wait a little longer. Because you are worth waiting for.

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kiribakuhappiness · 3 years

Text

Bakugou's Wedding Studio

Katsuki's

by KiriBakuHappiness

(AO3 link)

Bakugou Katsuki / Kirishima Eijirou Wedding Planner / Engaged AU Fluff/Humor/Light-Angst/Romance Rated T (for Katsuki’s colorful language) Word Count: 6315

Author's Note:// I really don't know where this story idea came from but I just had such an overwhelming urge to write it so now all of you are going to have to read it - enjoy!

Katsuki has never been to a wedding before.

The fuck would he waste his time going to one of those dumbass things for? To watch relatives who he didn't know and had never cared to meet before cry disgustingly and blow snot into rags in celebration of someone else in the family getting to have bland missionary sex for the rest of their pathetically monotonous lives?

Or did the joy come from listening to people whisper about the decoration choices and chuckle in disdain about family drama or was all the fun wrapped up in making sure someone's estranged uncle didn't get too drunk and try to piss on the bride's gown or -

Where the fuck was the fun in any of it?!

Fuck. Katsuki hated weddings - and he's never even fucking been to one before but that hardly matters because he gets the overall fucking gist of them just fine on his own. He's seen all the damn movies.

The weepy vows and the overly-edited wedding photos and the drunken hook ups in the coat closet or bathroom with someone who may or may not be a distant cousin or, fuck; it was all so very cliché and annoying.

Unfortunately, Katsuki's mother was a fucking wedding planner - so guess who knew way more about weddings than he'd ever planned to know?

You're a fucking genius. It's this guy.

Just shoot his damn brains out now. 'S not like he's gonna need them much after suffering through all of this shit.

"Katsuki," his mother swats at his arm and abruptly pulls him full force back into the wretched reality of this entirely undesirable situation. "Are you listening? This is important to me - I'm really counting on you for this one, kid!"

Katsuki barely holds back a groan. Barely.

He might be reaching 24, but his attitude still felt like that of an angsty teenager most days, and all of this unnecessary needling really wasn't helping with his high blood pressure that his doctor kept insisting that he had.

He shifts in the uncomfortable plastic chair by the edge of the hospital bed and tries to pay attention - he does - because his mother got hit by a car not three hours ago, and while that was so insatiably fucking hilarious to think about on its own, the resulting chaos that had ensued after such a laughably out-of-bounds incident that had dragged his ass head-first into all of this was most certainly not.

"I could do this shit in my sleep if I had to. I was forced to go with you to meet-ups like this all the damn time, remember?" Katsuki grumbles bitterly as he proceeds to flip through the scarce few channels on the television screen hanging up in the corner of the room.

Mitsuki snatches the remote from him when he passes over the same dull history channel about sharks for the third time since he'd arrived with a bag full of hastily packed shit from the house after he had gotten the call from the hospital.

"Yeah, when you were seven." She turns the television off and tosses the remote out of his reach into the other vacant chair on the far side of the room. Katsuki scowls and watches it soar away, briefly mourning the loss of the only thing getting him through this conversation with his mental stability still in tact.

"How fucking hard can it be?" Katsuki continues to gripe as he slouches further down in his seat, throwing his feet up to rest his boots on the bed with his ankles crossed. "'You want this piece of shit flower, or this piece of shit flower? You want this dumb table set up, or this dumb table set up?' I think I can fucking handle it."

His mother sighs and runs a hand over her bruised face, but he can still see the smirk that she's so desperately trying to hide in her palm. She can't fool Katsuki - she might sell lovey-dovey bullshit day in and day out to poor saps who waste all of their hard earned life savings on some big dumb party that most of their guests who are invited to attend are too drunk to even remember the next morning anyway - but she's just as much of an asshole as Katsuki is.

Mitsuki was just significantly better at hiding it in front of her important valued business clients.

"Just... please be on your best behavior, alright? And wear something nice. A sweater, maybe? You do own nice clothes, don't you?" His mother goads as she finishes organizing the gigantic black binder open on the bed sheets in front of her before she slaps it shut with a satisfied grin that stretches the bandage on her cheek.

"Oh yeah," Katsuki snorts with a condescending roll of his eyes. "Want me to get my finest jewels out of the damn vault, too? Maybe hunt down an endangered cougar and wear its scent as fresh cologne?"

His mother's hand comes up to her face again, but her shoulders are shaking. "How did I ever raise such a charming gentleman?"

"Beats me, you're a fucking bitch," Katsuki counters easily as he lumbers up to his feet. He reaches for the binder but his mother is quicker and she snatches it up to hold it close to her chest.

She's giving him her most serious look now.

Ugh. That means they're officially done fucking around.

"I mean it, Katsuki. This client was a referral - I really need them to have a good experience," his mother repeats for what must be the seventy-billionth fucking time.

Katsuki melts back into his chair with a disgruntled whine that could have come from a five-year-old's temper tantrum. "The fuck can't you just reschedule this shit for if it's so damn important?"

"Because the couple needs to be married and on a flight in exactly two months. Do you know how fucking long it takes to plan a wedding, Katsuki?"

He does. "No."

His mother smacks the binder against the top of his head before she finally holds it out for him. "Don't screw this up, wise-ass."

How fucking encouraging.

Katsuki snatches the binder from her with another overly-dramatic roll of his eyes as he shoves himself up to his feet again and starts for the door. "Hope you get a bed sore, devil woman."

"Love you too, you little shit!"

His mother's office building is way too fucking fancy for Katsuki's taste. Expensive wooden flooring and tall ceilings and Rome-inspired pillars and some kind of old fucking statue of a half-naked woman right at the damn entrance with her stone breasts all hanging out.

Was this supposed to be a wedding planner's studio or some kind of fucking art museum? Katsuki can't even tell anymore.

He supposes that it has been a pretty long time since he's last been back here, and he can't ignore the fact that his mother's dumb business has come a long way from being the dinky little hole in the wall that it used to be.

Still, the statue feels like a bit of an over kill. Katsuki can't stop staring at it. Where the fuck were her arms? And why did her eyes look like that?

Were they... moving?

His body tilts dangerously far to one side as he eyes up at the woman's face with a squinted gaze. She was definitely tracking his movements - this statue was seriously fucking cursed or something. It probably came to fucking life at night, creepy ass piece of -

"Uh... am I interrupting something?"

Katsuki nearly staggers over his own two feet as he hurries to try and right himself before he whips around to spot the culprit who has so suddenly decided to sneak up on him.

"Hah?! Fucking hell, make some damn noise next time!" Katsuki reprimands with a harsh glare. He hates being fucking spooked like that.

The man in front of him grins a wide, toothy smile. "Sorry, man! I didn't mean to startle you! Uh, is this... the Bakugou's Wedding Studio -"

Oh shit. This is the guy that Katsuki is supposed to meet with today?

His sharp gaze takes in the plain jeans with the rip in the left knee and the dark V-neck combo that he's wearing; a pretty casual get up considering the dumbass shirt and tie that Katsuki's hag of a mother seemed to think that he desperately needed to wear for this. She was so full of shit sometimes.

Fuck, was this guy still talking?

"- so I hope that's okay and everything!"

Katsuki has no idea what he's going on about, but it doesn't matter. He waves a dismissive hand around in the air, anyway.

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you want, Red. You ready to do this or what?"

The guy blinks in surprise at him and one of the hands he's had pushed down into the pockets of his jeans suddenly reaches up to touch at the stupid spikes of red hair styled on the top of his head before he laughs boisterously.

"Alright, a man of action - I like that! Let's do it!" Red cheers, thrusting a fist up in the air and beaming another ridiculously happy grin. What a fucking nut job.

Katsuki leads him around the creepy statue lady and across the wooden floors of the studio towards a set of black leather couches set up in the corner by the large bay windows overlooking the street below. He slaps the binder on the table and flops down onto the couch before he mindlessly flips it open to the first page to pull out all of the dumb introductory forms.

The faster they get through this shit, the quicker Katsuki can go home and take these uncomfortable clothes off - gotta keep his eyes on the prize.

Red plops down on the couch next to him, still smiling that mega-watt grin. Katsuki is used to seeing that stupid fucking look on his mother's more sappy clients' faces.

It's all about the fucking love, right?

Definitely not about all of the money.

"This place is really nice," Red compliments unnecessarily as his eyes sweep across the studio. "Did you decorate it yourself?"

Katsuki snorts at that. And then he rehears the question in the back of his mind and he cackles again because holy shit - that's the funniest fucking thing anyone has ever asked him. "Hell no. Just filling in for my mom or whatever. 'S her place, not mine."

"Oh, are you... not a wedding planner then, or?"

Shit. Backtrack - fucking backtrack.

"Hah? 'Course I am! You think I come here and do this shit for fun or something?" Katsuki snarks back as nonchalantly as he can. He really needs to just get this over with.

"Where's your wife-to-be, anyway? Shouldn't she be here nitpicking all of this shit over with you?" Katsuki grumbles absentmindedly as he yanks out a pen and finally settles down to do quite possibly the most boring thing to have ever been invented.

"Nah man, I just told you! My ah... husband-to-be had something come up at work, so he couldn't make it in today," Red explains again anyway, entirely unperturbed with having to repeat himself. "It's just me!"

Gay? Huh. Katsuki wouldn't have ever guessed.

"Whatever, just make sure he doesn't call and complain if he doesn't like what you pick out," Katsuki warns as he flips the pages of the binder to the first horrible section of a long list of equally horrible things; the venues.

"Don't worry about it, dude!" Red reassures with a confident thumb thrust into his puffed out chest. "I've got a great sense of style!"

So.

That was a fucking lie.

Red's got something - but it ain't style. A brain tumor, maybe.

"You want to do what?" Katsuki can't help but ask incredulously. His pen stalls in his casual note-taking as he raises an eyebrow and lifts his cheek off his clenched fist to better stare at the other man so that he knows just how ridiculous his dumb request sounds.

"You don't think that'd be awesome?!" Red expels with just as much disbelief, sitting up now with his hands thrown out wide in the air as though to adamantly argue his point. "First the ceremony, then the reception - or whichever one comes first, I guess I already forgot - but then, boom! Paintball tournament! It's fool proof, man!"

They've been at this for two hours now and Katsuki thinks there must be something seriously wrong with this guy. He's kind of starting to think that he isn't even really engaged. There's just no fucking way. He's literally a child with adult spending money.

"My mom ain't gonna plan a fucking paintball tournament for your wedding, I'll tell you that right now," Katsuki snorts with a further bewildered shake of his head at the very idea of it as he resettles his cheek against his fist again.

Red beams a mischievous sort of grin as he casually leans over to elbow Katsuki in the bicep. "Buuut your mom's not my wedding planner, you are! Right? C'mon, I can totally tell that you're way cooler than she is!"

Huh. Red's got some kind of a point there. Maybe not a complete one, or a valid one, but it's the start of something intriguing for sure.

Katsuki flicks his pen around in his fingers as he entertains this woefully horrible temptation to fuck with this painfully typical wedding design that Red's husband-to-be seems to be so dead set on having. Katsuki can't help but agree with the idiotic manchild; maybe that's what weddings need more of these days in order to be less shitty.

Some kind of entirely chaotic activity that causes real physical harm.

Besides, his mother did tell him that he was meant to do whatever it was that the customer wanted - whatever they ask for, just tell them you can do it and then figure it out from there! - and this overly enthusiastic redhead sitting on the other end of this leather couch from him wants a fucking paintball tournament at his wedding.

This temporary gig might be a lot more interesting than Katsuki originally gave it credit for.

"Alright, Red... you've piqued my interest," Katsuki concedes cautiously as he pens in a little added note at the bottom of the seventeenth modified color scheme they had finally settled on. "You want a paintball tournament, I'll give you a fucking paintball tournament."

"Woah, really?!" Red lights up like a fucking Christmas tree at that. "Oh man, you must be the best wedding planner ever!"

Katsuki tries not to look too smug. What a horrible fucking compliment, anyway. But still - Red's got the right idea. Katsuki was the fucking best.

He might not mind working with this idiot for the remainder of this project, after all.

"What other kind of crazy junk you want?"

"Oh, dude! I've got lots of ideas!"

A wedding generally takes anywhere from 200-500 hours to fully plan and execute. Katsuki's currently got about 10 1/2 logged with Red over the course of their past few meetings together, which only left a bare minimum of around 189.5 more hours to go.

Still, it wasn't really as painstaking or horribly boring as Katsuki had been expecting it to be. Despite the moron's horrendous sense of style and apparent fucking colorblindness, he did have a shit ton of incredibly dumb wedding event ideas to spout off endlessly about, and Katsuki was almost having trouble narrowing down which horribly inappropriate ones to choose to include in the draft proposal from their long ass list.

He couldn't believe how much he found that he really didn't mind walking into his mother's wedding studio in preparation for another long session with the weirdest client he's ever had the misfortune of meeting. This wedding was gonna be fucking awesome if Katsuki had anything to do with it.

His unusually optimistic attitude about this unfavorable situation changed rather abruptly when Red finally walked through the door a half an hour later, though. He wasn't alone this time.

Red's Fiancé was... not what Katsuki expected.

Not that Katsuki had really been expecting much of anything. To be honest, he'd almost forgotten that the dumbass even had one. But of course, it takes two to fucking tango, and here the lovebirds are now sitting on the opposite couch together from the one Katsuki had chosen.

"I read over the draft proposal last night and - " Red's Fiancé gives Red some kind of half-sympathetic/half-grimaced look. " - while I appreciate the eccentricity, I really don't think my family wants us to have a Slip N' Slide at our wedding."

Your family is fucking lame then, Middle Part. Katsuki crosses out the Slip N' Slide note in his binder with a disapproving scowl.

Red's face burns with a bright flush of color as he reaches a sheepish hand up to rub at the back of his head. "Ah, yeah, sorry about that! I went a little overboard with it. It was just really fun planning everything out with - "

Red blinks for a moment as his face smooths out before he glances in Katsuki's direction for what might have been the very first time since they had arrived. "Oh, I guess I've never really gotten your name before!"

Katsuki shifts in his seat and doesn't look up. "Katsuki."

"Right, Katsuki! It was really fun planning with him these past few sessions; he's gotta be the best one in the city or something - I was getting so excited for the wedding!"

Tch. Katsuki was sorta getting excited to see all the tom-fuckery come together, too. But whatever.

"I'm sure it'll be just as exciting," Middle Part tries to satiate like a parent calming down an obnoxious child with a condescending pat on Red's knee. The tone grates on Katsuki's nerves for reasons he can't even begin to come up with.

Middle Part turns back to Katsuki, then. "But in a more... traditional sense, if you know what I mean."

Katsuki's eyes narrow down at the binder in his lap, but he knows he's got a job to fucking do - his mother would have a damn heart attack or something if he didn't do what he was supposed to be doing right now - so he simply tears out the draft proposal form, crumples it up into a little ball, and tosses it carelessly over his head to land somewhere on the wooden floor behind his couch.

Back to boring old fucking business.

"Oh, I'd also like to go over the color scheme one more time? I'm more of a pastel person and the reds are all very... bright."

Katsuki can't stop thinking about it.

He hates that he can't stop thinking about it, but that doesn't make it any less true that he can't stop thinking about it.

Katsuki didn't know up-from-down about Red - fuck, he hadn't even been paying close enough attention to have ever caught the guy's real name - but something about their session yesterday with Middle Part didn't sit right with him.

It was all-in-all a very typical meeting. His mother would have been fucking ecstatic with the outcome. They changed the color scheme to something more pastel spring-timey and replaced the red Hibiscus flowers with some boring ass Tulips and they even had to go back and pick a different venue cause Middle Part had some kind of damn phobia of the fucking water or some shit and truly seemed to believe that the scenic lake-side cabin property that Red had chosen out on the outskirts of the city would be too much of a distraction for him to focus on The Big Day.

Pretty much everything that they had planned out together in their earlier sessions had to be changed. And throughout the entire fucking process, Red didn't say another damn word the whole time.

Not to give his opinion. Not to express any kind of interest or growing excitement. Not even to protest. He merely sat there with that plastered on goofy grin, with Middle Part's hand wrapped tight on his knee, and didn't say a single damn thing.

Katsuki can't stop fucking thinking about it. When he'd first met Red, he was certain that guy's COD was going to be suffocation from forgetting how to take a pause inbetween his incessant ramblings long enough to remember to breathe.

It wasn't even any of Katsuki's damn business. He knew that. And he didn't fucking care about the relationship dynamic of a newly-engaged couple that he didn't know and hadn't even met for more than a few hours. It just felt like such a big damn fucking waste of time because obviously this was all going to end in some kind of a divorce.

Middle Part was stiff and proper and had a huge stick up his ass, and Red was just so loud and expressive and wanted a fucking rock-climbing wall at his damn wedding. It was like watching some suburban soccer mom tame a real-life Rolling Stones Rockstar or some shit.

How did those two fuckers even meet in the first place? Fall in love? Get engaged? It didn't make any sense to Katsuki, and it was really starting to piss him off.

During their next session together a few days later (sans Middle Part again, who just had to run off and attend some hoity-toity business garden party or something else that happened to be more important than planning his damn wedding), Katsuki literally couldn't stop himself from asking, "You really want a boring ass wedding like this?"

Red stops mid-babble with his glass of champagne poised at his lips that Mitsuki had vehemently demanded that Katsuki supply for this next meeting - because how could he have ever forgotten to do such an important part of this overall incredibly lame process?

"Oh, I mean... it's not really supposed to be an actual party. It's more of a serious thing, you know?" Red tries pathetically to explain the purpose of a wedding to a(n unlicensed) wedding planner, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck. "I guess I got a little carried away with it all before. Sorry if I wasted your time or anything, I told you I'm no good at planning this kind of stuff..."

There it is again. That incessant needling in Katsuki's gut that he'd noticed also happened when Middle Part had placed that hand on Red's knee and didn't let go of it for the entire time that they were sitting together on that damn couch.

Katsuki purses his lips into a thin line to prevent himself from saying anything asshole-ish, because he's sure that one of the rules to being The Best Wedding Planner Ever was not to insult the Fiancé.

"That's why I really need your help here, man!" Red continues on, unbothered by or just too plain stupid to recognize Katsuki's silence on the topic. "You're so talented; I just know you'll make it the best day ever!"

It slips out before Katsuki can even think about stopping it. "Shouldn't that be your new husband's job or something?"

Red blinks over at him in surprise at such a statement, and Katsuki blinks down at the binder in his lap because - fuck - even he knows that was way totally out of line.

"Let's just fucking finish picking out the - "

It's the movement that he spots out of his peripherals as Red leans forward to place his glass of champagne on the table that causes Katsuki to stiffen and finally snap his eyes up from where they'd been glued to the binder.

Shit, Red doesn't look good. His brows are furrowed and there's an uncharacteristically obvious frown on his lips as he watches the bubbles in the champagne glass float up to the top. Katsuki waits with held breath for him to do something more, his heart pounding in his chest, and eventually Red looks at him again and offers him an entirely forced apologetic smile.

"Sorry, I'm just... I'm not really feeling that great today. I think I'm gonna have to cut this session short, if that's okay."

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Katsuki's big ass mouth has gone and done it again. He doesn't even have enough time to try and salvage anything or react to such a sudden departure before Red is leaping up from the couch and scurrying across the studio towards the front doors.

Katsuki watches him leave with his pen hanging limp in his hand and his mouth slightly parted.

His mother was totally going to fucking ream him for fucking this one up.

"You said what?!"

Katsuki tosses an exasperated hand up in the air and glares harder from where he's standing at the foot of the bed in the master bedroom. He hasn't even taken his denim jacket off yet. "You didn't have to fucking meet this guy, alright?! He was pretentious and boring and - "

Mitsuki snorts with an angry roll of her eyes. "Newsflash, you fucking psychopath - you don't have to like the clients that you work for, you just have to do your damn job! He's not your Fiancé, this isn't your wedding!"

"I fucking know that! He just really fucking pissed me the fuck off!" Katsuki yells back, red-faced and frantic as he forces fingers to tangle through his explosive hair.

"You have to fix this, Katsuki - "

"How the fuck am I supposed to do that? Why's it gotta be my responsibility to convince this guy to marry that total fucking d-bag? It's gonna end in a divorce, anyway!"

"That's not even any of your fucking concern, moron! Let the divorce attorney deal with all of that crap!"

"It's not fair for Red!" Katsuki continues to argue adamantly none-the-less, slapping the back of his hand into the palm of the other for emphasis.

Mitsuki blinks over at him now, eyebrows scrunching in the center of her face and - shit, he doesn't like that look she's giving him at all. "Who the fuck is Red?"

"T-the fucking guy! The one I've been dealing with this whole damn time, the - "

"The guy who wanted to have a dunk-tank at his wedding?!" Mitsuki asks incredulously. "If you ask me, that's not fair to anyone getting married."

Katsuki glowers over at her as he shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his coat and curls them into tight fists to try and pull himself together.

"Least it would've been fucking entertaining to watch..." he grumbles bitterly, but fuck, he knows the old hag has a damn point.

Mitsuki's looking at him especially closely now and it's making Katsuki squirm under her laser-focused scrutiny. He clenches his jaw to combat the uncomfortable bout of feelings rumbling in his stomach and flings his hands (still secure in his pockets) out once more in a baiting sort of gesture.

"Fucking what?" Katsuki spits defensively.

"Oh... my god," Mitsuki leans back into the pillows on her king-sized bed like she's just been given the most horrible news. "Don't tell me you fell in love with a fucking client, Katsuki."

Katsuki's entire face scrunches up unpleasantly at that accusation like he's just swallowed an entire lemon. "The fuck?! Are you outta your goddamn mind!?"

"Are you?! Katsuki, he's engaged!" She whips one of her purple satin pillows at him. "You're supposed to be planning his wedding!"

Katsuki's hands are too tangled up in his pockets to prevent the assault and the pillow smacks stupidly against his chest and tumbles to the floor at his socked feet. "That's what I was trying to fucking do!"

"Really? Cause from what your dumbass just told me, it sounds a lot more like you've taken some kind of damn interest in this fucking guy and want to ruin his marriage before it's even started!"

Katsuki blinks at her because he doesn't even know what to fucking say in response to that. It's so totally outlandish and stupid. He's not fucking in love with Red - he doesn't even know that asshole! They've been in the same room together for approximately 25 hours - 4 1/2 of which Red hadn't even spoken a single damn word for!

Mitsuki heaves a deep sigh and pinches the bridge of her nose. It's like she can't even fucking look at him right now. "Just go, Katsuki. I should've never fucking asked you to do this for me in the first place."

Fuck.

Katsuki shifts his weight restlessly from one foot to the other. He knows he's an asshole, and he knows his mother's a batty fucking bitch, but that's why it always makes his stomach twist so uncomfortably whenever she looks at him like that - or rather, whenever she doesn't look at him like that.

Assholes needed to stick together, damnit!

"Mom, I'm fucking sorry or whatever, I just - "

"I know. Now leave. There's leftover soup in the fridge. Grab some when you go." Mitsuki picks up the magazine she had been perusing through before he'd so brutishly trampled his way into her room and she starts reading it again like he wasn't still standing there staring at her, and that was just the end of that.

Katsuki had fucked it all up. Someone's marriage, his mother's new client, her expectations of him - all of it. Fucked it right up from the ground up.

He clenches his jaw again and exhales a hard, agitated breath through his flaring nostrils before he snatches up the pillow on the floor and chucks it onto the bed as he stomps over to the door and finally leaves.

Katsuki has only ever bought flowers twice before.

Once when he got suspended from school for getting into a fight, and once when he totaled his piece of shit car trying to out race some idiot who had egged him on at a red light. Both times his mother had received them with the very same reactions - an incredulous stare, a long thoughtful pause, a heavy reluctant sigh, and forgiveness.

Lilacs were her favorites - and Katsuki only fucking knew that cause his old man used to drill it incessantly into his damn head all while growing up before that asshole had to go and die of brain cancer. ‘Whenever your mother is angry with me, I always buy her Lilacs. They soften her right up!’

That was the only reason why Katsuki was clutching onto such an embarrassing collection of recently purchased Lilacs as he pushed his way through the door of the Bakugou’s Wedding Studio a few weeks later.

He gave his mother time to cool off, and he went and got the damn flowers, and now he just needed to find the batty bitch.

There were quite a few people here today milling about on the furniture and perusing through the catalogues - some guy sitting next to his soon-to-be-wife was ogling the damn statue like he’d never fucking seen boobies before - and honestly, Katsuki would have turned around and walked right back into the street if he hadn’t spotted his mother’s head bobbing by somewhere in the background of all the fucking chaos.

Alright Katsuki, it’s fucking show time.

He regrips the Lilacs in his sweaty fingers as he maneuvers through a crowd of bridesmaids who are all screeching about something or another at a decibel that only fucking dogs can hear, before he finds himself suddenly face-to-face with his mother’s urgently frantic energy.

They both stop at the same time and stare at each other for a moment. Mitsuki breaks the silence with a click of her tongue again the roof of her mouth and a sharp turn of her gaze onto anything else in the room that isn’t him.

“I’m kind of busy right now - “ She tries to breeze past him but Katsuki just steps in her way and prevents her from leaving.

“Here.” He thrusts the Lilacs up into the space between them. His jaw tightens and he tries not to think about how fucking ridiculous he must look right now.

His mother’s list of reactions is consistent, at least; an incredulous stare that drifts down to eye at the Lilac bundle, a softening of her features as she takes in all of the different little purple petals - she’s probably thinking about dad, just like Katsuki does every time he has to wander into that damn flower shop on the other side of the city to purchase these stupid shits - and then... a heavy sigh.

She reaches out and takes them from him, and his hands dive back into his pockets purely on instinct and flustered nerves. Mitsuki looks up from the Lilacs and catches eyes with him again.

“They didn’t go through with it,” Mitsuki informs him. As if he even fucking cares.

“Hm.” He grunts back in some kind of forced response.

Mitsuki sighs again, softer this time, and runs the pad of her finger along the lush flowers. “Well... I’m sure business will be fine without them. I really wasn’t expecting such a rush like this today, so - “

“Uh... hello.” A voice interrupts from somewhere outside of their private family bubble.

Katsuki and Mitsuki both whip around and - holy motherfucking shit - it’s Red.

He’s wearing a leather jacket over a plaid shirt today, and his obnoxious spikes are loose and under the protection of a bandana. He grins sheepishly at the pair of them, his cheeks are already dusting with flushed color. “A-again, I guess. I just wanted to come by and apologize for wasting so much of your family’s time with... everything. I really hope I didn’t cause too much trouble for you.”

“Wait, you’re Red?” Mitsuki chimes in before Katsuki can even rub two brain cells together enough to spark any kind of a thought.

“Huh?” Red blinks at her in confusion before suddenly he’s laughing so loudly that people’s heads are starting to turn in their direction. “Oh! Haha, yeah I am! You can call me Eijirou, if that’s easier for you. Red works fine too, though, I guess!”

Eijirou.

“Anyway,” Red clears his throat, and he looks uncertain as he shuffles his weight around restlessly. “I know it was a bit of a shit show, but I really want to make up for it! I know some people who are recently engaged and I recommended your studio to them! Katsuki was so great with everything, and my friend Denki really wants to do something with zip-lining for his wedding!”

“Zip-lining?! Look kid, I appreciate the business, really, but - “

Katsuki elbows her hard in the ribs with a sideways glare sharp enough to cut glass. His mother eyes him back and they stare at each other for a long time, having one of their infamous telepathic arguments, before Mitsuki throws her hands in the air in added exasperation.

“Zip-lining, touch-tank, hell, I’ll order some fucking panda bears from the local zoo if they want it,” she declares to the heavens above.

Before Katsuki has the chance to snap at her, one of the dog-whistle bridesmaids is summoning her over from the other side of the room, and his mother beelines it towards them in an obvious attempt to escape. Katsuki watches her leave with a scowl.

“I, uh,” Red clears his throat again, and it causes Katsuki to snap his gaze back onto him once more. “I actually stopped by earlier this week but you weren’t here. I was kind of hoping to catch you, I... wanted to thank you.”

Katsuki blinks at him in disbelief. “Hah?! For fucking what? Ruining your goddamn wedding?”

“Ruin it?” Red’s head shoots up from where he’d been intently watching the tips of his sneakers. “Dude, are you for real? You didn’t ruin anything, you saved it! You saved me! I was always taught growing up that a wedding had to be perfect, and beautiful, and professionally photographed. And I was always told how stressful it all was and I was really nervous to come here and try to figure it all out - but when I was planning my wedding with you, it was... fun! And exciting! I couldn’t wait for it to arrive so I could watch all of my friends and family having the best time together on the most important day of my life!”

Katsuki can really only think to blink at him again, because truly, there must be something wrong with this fucking idiot. Nobody in the history of ever has probably been this excited for a botched wedding.

“Anyway,” Red shifts again, grinning that sheepish smile of his that squints his eyes and makes the flush on his face that much more prominent. “I know I was like... just engaged a few weeks ago or whatever but... do you want to maybe go play paintball with me sometime?”

Holy shit. Red was fucking asking him out on a date. Is that what was fucking happening right now?

There must be something wrong with Katsuki, too, because - “Sure, why the fuck not?”

Red is beaming again, and Katsuki’s heart is racing in his chest like some kind of dumb prepubescent child, and Katsuki’s never been to a fucking wedding before, but if he can manage not to fucking screw this up just like everything else, then he already knows that his and Eijirou’s wedding is going to be the best fucking one in history.

He’s already planning on it.

Author’s Note:// AHBXHBAXA - Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed this dumb little short story! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated but never expected! <3

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bnha-archive · 4 years

Note

Idk if you do smut, if not then make this h e a v y fluff. Shouji x Reader where Shouji wants to take his relationship with the reader a step further but doesn't want to scare her? Thanks!

oh ho ho~ :3 All characters are 18+, Don’t like, don’t read.

Enjoy

It’s the lingering touches that make you notice. Mezo’s fingertips grazing your lower back, neck, and cheeks in passing have been putting you on… edge. That is to say, he barely has to touch you to make your mind start racing and heart pounding painfully. The amount of power he has over you is startling.

At first, you think all this is innocent. You’re just the one with the perverted mind,Mezo could never. He’s so collected and calm.

But as the touches continued, you noticed the gazes along with them. He may wear a mask but that doesn’t mean you can’t read his expression. You catch his eye as he places a hand on the back of your neck, rubbing smooth and gently circles there. “You look tense.” He would say, then move away like he didn’t just make you choke on air.

Those looks he gives you is unmistakable… You can see the way his eyes tilt up in the corner and the glitter in them as he takes in your flustered state. He knows exactly what he’s doing. The absolute bastard.

You finally manage to corner him after patrol, the two of you heading back to your respective apartments. Thank god you’re his neighbor or else this would never work.

Shoji unlocks his front door and turns to wish you goodnight, only to find you staring him down. “What is it?” He turns the doorknob—and you pounce. You push him inside, slamming the door shut with your foot. The apartment is blanketed in darkness—the only light coming from the crack beneath the door.

Now, you’re not an especially tall person. Hell, Shoji is hitting 6’4”, a good 2 inches taller than he was in high school—but that doesn’t mean you can’t try to kabe-don him. Your hand slams itself next to his hip while the other finds the side of his neck. You press into him, your gaze never leaving his face.

“Do you know what you do to me, Mezo?

“I…”

“You drive me crazy. Distracting me at work is the worst of all. How can I focus on my job if your hands are all I can think about?” You take his hands and place them on your hips. His hands skim the fabric of your jeans, tentative to touch you.

“I drive you crazy?” Mezo hands finally find purchase on your hips, and he pulls you even closer. You can feel his breath through the mask, hot. “Just being in the same room as you… I can’t tell you the number of times I’ve had to ask someone what happened at a meeting. This?” He gestures to you and then to himself, “I’ve never felt this… You… you’re the first. But if you don’t want that—it’s ok. I can live with just sex.”

Your breath catches in your throat. You’d never expected this. Are you sexually attracted him? Yes. Are you romantically attracted him? Also, yes, but you’ve never spent much time considering this part of your relationship. But Shoji’s feelings are more than the ‘tear your clothes off’ kind. More like, ‘let me carefully take your clothes off, so I can make love to you then cuddle with you’ kind.

And well, you’re not going to spurn that. Not in a million years. You intertwine your fingers with his and gently tug to get him to bend down to your level. You lean up, chin tilting as you press your lips against his mask just to the right of where his lips should be. His left hand disentangles itself from yours, and he pulls the mask down to kiss you properly. In the darkness, you can barely make out his profile. His mouth is wide and his lips are soft as he kisses you.

He kisses like you are the only thing keeping him alive, stealing the oxygen from your lungs. His arms cage you in holding you prisoner not that you would want to escape. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back with all the force you can muster. You want to tell him how long you’ve been thinking about him.

But all those thoughts flee when he presses the bulge in his pants against your thigh.

And from the feel of him, it’s on the larger side. The thought of it causes your head to fall back, parting your lips to allow a groan of want to escape. Shoji allows a sigh to escape him, his hot breath fanning across your neck before feeling something warm and wet trailing its way over your shoulder.

“Me-Mezo I—ah!”

He bites down, gently but with enough force for your words to trip over themselves. The noises coming from your throat only fuel him. You feel two more hands find your ass and squeeze as the other two hold you in place—practically crushed against his chest. The second pair of hands travel down to your upper thighs and with laughable ease, you’re lifted. Instinctively you wrap your legs around his hips, pressing the crux of your thighs against his straining erection.

Oh Jesus, does that friction feel good. You rub against him, the sensation against your clothed clit sending small ripples of pleasure straight to your core. “Mezo—are, are you planning on fucking me in the—ah, hallway?” Trying to find words in your befuddled lusty state did not come easily.

You feel him grin against your skin. “I was thinking about it… But I wouldn’t be able to go all out.” A decision made, he pushes off the wall and carries you (still around his waist) to his bedroom where he promptly places you down on the futon before starting to strip. He flicks on a light in the corner, throwing shadows on the wall as your own clothes quickly join his on the floor.

Despite your hormone-addled state, you couldn’t help but be A little intimidated by the sheer image of him. Standing there 6’4”, naked and with an almost painful erection, which you want nothing more than to alleviate. You are lying if the sight of him in this state didn’t turn you on but damn if it didn’t make you feel small in comparison.

And then you couldn’t think about the size difference anymore because he was on top of you in another moment. You’re splayed on your back as he cages you in his arms once again leaning his head down to kiss you once more. You could feel his hardness pressing into your inner thigh and you push your hips upward to tell him silently what you want.

He ignores it and sweeps his tongue along your own, causing you to part your lips further. He shoves his tongue into your mouth, and you whine at the sensation—not only is his mouth bigger than yours, so is his tongue. It practically takes up the rest of the space and you close your mouth around it. Hot, wet and oh so tantalizing. Sucking on his tongue roughly and another lovely noise escapes his throat at the sensation.

He pulls back to look at you, his cheeks flushed, his lips wet, and a bit of drool running down his chin. “Is it alright if… if I use my quirk? On you?”

The yes came out of your mouth so fast you didn’t register the sound of the words. All you see if his lips splitting into a shiny, and remarkably pointy smile.

You feel something hot and wet poking at your slick folds—but how? He’s kissing you right now—OH. “Ohhh.” A large wet tongue licks carefully around your labia. Spreading your slick and thoroughly dampening your vulva. But he actively avoids giving you any type of stimulation. “Mezo! Don’t ah ah tease me!”

“But it’s so much fun…”

You feel the second tongue slide inside you. You buck your hips at the sensation, but Shoji’s strong arms hold you down as he tongue fucks you. You can’t keep quiet; your right-hand comes up to cover your mouth but Shoji swats it away. “Try to quiet yourself again and I’ll pin your arms above your head.”

You’re tempted. But the delicious feeling between your legs keeps you from forming any type of coherent thought. The exaggerated slurping and licking fill your ears and it only serves to make you squirm harder. Your thighs squeeze around the mouth as the tongue finds itself rubbing against your G-spot.

You can feel your muscles tense, legs locking as your hands fist the sheets beneath. Your mouth goes slack as your eyes roll back into your skull.

“Something wrong? You look like you’re close? Well, are you?” Mezo leans down to speak into your ear, the tongue suddenly working double-time.

“I-I need! Please. Please. Please!” You’re mumbling his name and pleading with him. You can feel the knot in your stomach pulling tighter every second.

God you’re so close.

The tongue swells in size, becoming stiff with thick ridges stretching you and you gasp at the sensation as what is now his cock fills you. It’s too good. Too perfect.

“Cum for me…”

And you do—screwing up your eyes as your body convulse and shake as your orgasm shoots through your veins. Just like that, it’s over and your body relaxes… or tries to. The rock-hard cock inside you twitches. A shift of your hips pulls a whine from your throat as the sensitive walls flutter around Shoji’s length. He chokes back his own moan at the sensation.

Your eyes meet and Mezo leans down and kisses you again, softly. He smooths your hair back and peppers kisses across your flushed skin. His real tongue licks the shell of your ear. “I hope you have another round in you because I’m just getting started, darling.”

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saxxxology · 4 years

Text

Cosmo Says - 4

PAIRING: Sam Winchester x Reader, Dean Winchester x Reader WARNINGS: smut: p/v sex, oral sex, some dom/sub themes, eventual threesome, exploration of kinks, and more NOTE: Do not save or repost my work without my consent. I don’t tag for spoilers, so feel free to message me with any questions you have. This work is 18+ only.

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Dean’s already up when you and Sam step into the kitchen, looking well-rested and relaxed from the night before. Bacon is sizzling in a pan, and there’s already a large bowl of eggs and a plate of french toast perched on the counter. He whistles when he sees Sam’s disheveled hair and the stiffness in your back as you walk to the table and slump down.

“Have a good night?” He grins wolfishly.

“Shut up,” you grumble.

“Ooh, you always grumpy the morning after?” Dean sets a full plate of eggs, bacon, and french toast in front of you and ignores the frown you shoot at him.

“I didn’t think I’d get this sore.”

Sam bites off the end of a bacon slice. “I keep telling you to do yoga, it helps.”

You roll your eyes and drizzle syrup over your french toast. “Later.”

“That’s what you always say—”

“Shut up, Sam.”

He goes silent, grinning over a cup of coffee as he leans against the counter. After scooping the rest of the bacon onto a platter and helping himself, Dean plops down on the seat next to you and digs in.

The next several minutes are filled with silence, broken only by you asking Sam to pass the orange juice from the counter and the sound of Dean’s chewing. The food, as always when Dean gets in the kitchen, is cooked nearly to perfection (he’s developed a habit of adding cayenne pepper to the bacon fat as it cooks, giving it an intense heat), and it doesn’t take long for you to clean your plate.

After setting his dish in the sink, Sam vanishes off to the basement after a lengthy explanation about the box of old Men of Letters’ notes that he’s been trying to categorize for weeks. You see right through the excuse—he’s trying to give you and Dean as much space as he can. Dean waits for the door to the basement to creak shut before speaking.

“So, how did last night go?”

You shrug painfully; the muscles are still tense and sore. “It was good.”

“Just good?”

“Well… better than good.” You rinse a plate under the faucet and set it on the rack to dry. “Awkward at first, but who doesn’t feel weird their first time with someone new, huh?”

Dean chuckles. “Me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’ve never felt anxious with someone new?”

“I mean, the first couple times were rough, but…” Dean clicks his tongue and shoots you a wink. “I know for damn sure what I’m doin’ know.”

“Oh, do you?”

Dean answers with a swat of the dish towel on your ass. “Bet I could show you.”

“I’m sore.”

“Damn.” He frowns. “What did he do?”

Your cheeks burn at the memory of Sam rutting himself between your legs, cheeks flushed with the ecstasy of a man getting to taste something he’s been long-deprived of. “Let’s just say your brother’s a big guy, and Little Sam isn’t holding back either.” When Dean swallows thickly, you turn back to the sink to rinse a small stack of forks. “Plus, I didn’t stretch as much as I should have.”

Dean steps up behind you, his hands gliding over your shoulders. “I can give you a massage later. Winchester special.”

“Please don’t tell me you guys have your own massage.”

“Nope.” He presses a little closer, pointedly rubbing his hips against your ass. “But I got mine. Nice warm bath, too.”

You giggle when he playfully squeezes your sides. “Let me go, I need to shower.”

He sniffs the crook of your neck and gives an over-exaggerated grimace. “Yeah, you do. You stink like sex.”

After a quick shower and a long afternoon in the basement with Sam and Dean as they sort and organize files, you retreat back upstairs to start dinner, Cosmo open on the counter beside the stove. Dean’s promised a massage, and you need something to reciprocate with.

...grip his shaft firmly, leaving his glans encircled with your thumb and index finger. Using the palm of your other hand, rub his glans with the desired pressure and speed...

Could be fun, you think to yourself as you flip the magazine closed and set it aside.

It’s late by the time you finally call it a night. Sam takes advantage of Dean leaving the kitchen to lock the bunker down for the night and wraps his arms around you from behind, brushing his lips against the side of your neck.

“I’m gonna watch a movie,” he murmurs, “come with me?”

“Mmm, Dean said he’d give me a massage.” You turn to him and run your palms over his chest. “Tomorrow night?”

Sam nods and dips his head, silently asking to kiss you. You respond eagerly, leaning against him as his hands settle on your waist. He pulls you in, deepening the kiss as Dean stomps back into the kitchen.

“Get a room,” he jokes.

You giggle against Sam’s lips. “We did last night.”

“Gross.”

“Says the man who has tentacle porn bookmarked,” Sam replies.

“There will be no kinkshaming in this house.” Dean crosses his arms. “Y/N, do you want your massage or not?”

You hum and tug yourself out of Sam’s grip. “Yes, please.”

“Fine.” Sam fakes a pout and reaches into the fridge to grab himself a second beer. “Have fun getting your massage.”

“Have fun watching your movie,” you tease back, shooting him a wink as you follow Dean down the hall. The moment you’re out of earshot of Sam, he takes your hand, leading you into the communal bathroom, where he starts the tub and adds a small dollop of a bubble solution that smells like peaches.

“Didn’t peg you for a bubble bath guy,” you say, admiring the fancy tub that the oldest Winchester had insisted on getting the year before.

“I deserve good things.” Dean stares proudly at the tile-lined basin before striding slowly back to you. “You deserve good things too.”

“I know.” You smile up at him as he settles his hands on your waist. “You’d make someone a real good husband someday, you know? Keep treating girls to bubble baths and massages, you might land someone.”

He grins, fingers teasing at your shirt. “You know, bubble baths are only fun when you get in ‘em.”

You raise your arms, allowing him to tug your loose tee shirt over your head. He’s met with the full sight of your bare tits, and his cheeks flush with surprise.

“What?” You tease along the line of his belt. “You think I’d wear a bra at home?”

Dean swallows, running his hands up your sides. His fingers are warm and calloused, and you shiver at the feeling of them brushing over your skin. “I never want you to wear a bra again.”

He leans in, claiming your mouth in a soft, plush kiss. He tastes warm and sweet, lips full and soft against yours. Hands splayed out against your shoulders, he holds you close, not pulling back until he feels your palms press against his chest.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he murmurs, “Could kiss you all over.”

“You can,” you reply. “Later.”

He undresses you slowly, teasing the little tie of your sweats until the drop around your bare feet, quickly joined by your plain cotton panties. You don’t give him long to stare, pushing his own shirt over his head and unbuckling his belt. He stumbles a little as he tries to kick his boots off, and you giggle when he straightens up with a grumble, having barely succeeded in staying upright as he’d kicked his clothing away. Your hands slide into the soft material of his boxers, easing them down until they join his pile of clothing.

“C’mere.” He takes your hand and steps back, leading you to the tub. You sink into the warm water, bubbles up to your chest, and giggle again when Dean joins you, sending a wave of water over the edge of the basin and splashing onto the floor.

“Klutz.” You poke his knee as he settles with his back against the small incline and shoves his legs underneath you. “You’re taking up all the room.”

“I got room for you right here.” Dean pulls you into his lap, arranging your knees on either side of his thighs. You glare down at him playfully and earn a cheesy grin.

“This isn’t what I was thinking in terms of giving space,” you reply, one eyebrow raised.

“Come on.” Dean’s palms slide up the curve of your back. Fingers press into the dip of your spine. “Just tryin’ to get you to kiss me some more.”

“Then just ask me to kiss you.” You brace your hands on his shoulders and lean down, humming against his mouth as you press your lips to his. He sighs, his chuckle muffled by the movement of your mouths. His hands grip handfuls of your ass, pulling you closer, and you moan at the ache of your flesh.

“Sore here?” he asks.

“Mmm.” You wiggle a little in his arms. “Bit, yeah.”

He smiles lazily. “Then I have an excuse to give your ass all the attention.”

“Perv.”

“What? You have a sweet ass on you.” Dean gives another soft squeeze. “Think I haven’t noticed?”

“No, Dean, I totally don’t catch you starin’ at my ass all the time,” you reply sarcastically.

“Think I could see it bare more often?”

“If you play your cards right.” You feel one hand drift down to brush against your inner thigh. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it feel like I’m doing?” Dean presses another kiss to your lips. “Turn around for me.”

You twist slowly in the water, tipping your head back on his shoulder as he skims the tips of his fingers over your breasts. Thumbs tease your nipples, earning a soft breath in response.

“Sensitive?”

You shake your head. “Not really. Like having ‘em touched, though.”

Dean hums against the crook of your neck, one hand running down your stomach until he reaches your bare mound. “What about here?”

You giggle, sinking deeper into the water as Dean gently teases the lips of your pussy. “Definitely sensitive… I thought I was getting a massage.”

“This is part one.” He kisses the side of your neck. “Just stop talking, can you do that?”

You relent, keeping your knees spread as Dean teases you open, index finger circling your clit in long, slow movements. You moan softly, reaching down to give him a bit of direction; up just a bit… a little more to the left… there.

Your moan echoes through the bathroom as Dean settles right where you’ve positioned him. His other arm slides around your middle, holding you close in the water. He’s hard, and when you rock your hips you can feel him pressed up against your ass.

“Mmm, that feels good.” Dean chuckles against your shoulder and reaches up to tease a breast. His thumb glides around your areola, and you reciprocate with a steady rub of your ass cheek against his cock, trapping it against his thigh.

“Want me to keep doing that?” you ask.

“A little,” Dean replies, focusing a little more firmly on your clit to draw your attention away. “Want you to cum first.”

A smile stretches your lips as he quickens his ministrations. “Yeah… I can do that…”

Dean hums in your ear, the sound dissolving into a soft moan when you meet the rhythm of his fingers with your own movements. You tilt your head to the side just enough to clumsily meet his lips with yours, and he sighs into it, teeth scraping along wet, kiss-swollen flesh.

He makes you cum just like that, lips parted, a loud moan quickly muffled with a kiss, legs parted on either side of his. He’s still hard, and his breath quickens when you grind your ass down on him, trying to get every last quiver of pleasure out of your orgasm as you can.

“That was hot.” Dean lets you turn in the water to straddle him. “How d’ya feel?”

“Really good.” You reach down and brush your fingers over him. “You?”

Dean clicks his tongue. “Well, boners aren’t the most comfortable thing in the world.”

“Once we get outta here I’ll make it better.” You kiss the tip of his nose. “Cosmo said something about a cool handjob move I’ve never tried.”

He takes a deep breath as your fingers wrap around his shaft. “Feels like you’re already starting, baby…”

“Just getting a feel for the territory.” You press one more kiss to his lips and pull your hand away. “I don’t wanna sit in water you’ve spewed in.”

Dean wrinkles his nose. “Spewed? That’s gross.”

“How else would you describe it?” You stand up, grinning at the way Dean’s eyes linger on your bubble-covered skin. “Leakage? A dribble? Discharge?”

“Disgusting.” Dean gratefully accepts the towel you hand him and wraps it around his waist before following you out of the bathroom.

His room is surprisingly clean and, for once, doesn’t smell like three-day laundry. You’re impressed, and turn to look at him as he nudges the door shut. “Did you clean for me?”

“A little.” He shrugs and steps over to the bed. “C’mere, lie down.”

You drop your towel and crawl onto the bed, slumping down on your stomach at Dean’s direction. His memory foam mattress conforms to your body, and you snatch a pillow to cradle under your head.

“You have a really nice bed,” you murmur as Dean tucks his towel around his waist and kneels next to you. “Could fall asleep.”

Dean chuckles and presses his palms against your shoulder blades. “Really? Thought you were gonna do that handjob thing.”

“I will.” You sigh when he puts his weight into his touch, rubbing in long, smooth circles that ease the tension knots from your shoulders. “Mmm, that feels really good.”

He responds with a soft breath and a long roll of his thumbs down the curve of your spine. You arch up, stretching your muscles as he works them loose. Time means nothing as he touches you with surprisingly experienced movements. It could be minutes or even hours, but when he finally ceases his ministrations, you feel like a boneless mess.

“Good?” He asks.

“Yeah.” You sit up tilting your head from side to side. “How’d you get so good at that?”

“Lots of practice.” Dean glides a teasing hand over your ass, cupping a cheek and squeezing lightly. “Think it’s my turn for a little somethin’, huh?”

You hum, leaning in to kiss him as he lies back. “Definitely. You need something?”

“Lube’s in the top drawer,” he gestures to the bedside cabinet, and you reach in and fish around before finding a slightly-greasy purple bottle of Astroglide and a clean hand towel. You pour a small dollop into your hand and nudge his towel out of the way. He’s still hard, and you take a good few seconds to admire him. He’s not as big as Sam, but boy, you’ve got room to play.

Dean inhales sharply when you swing a leg over his hips, sitting with your back to him. His palms settle on your ass, and you hear him let out an appreciative chuckle.

“I like where this is going.”

“Shut up,” you reply, smoothing a lube-covered palm down his shaft. “It’s easier this way.”

“I’m not… fuck,” Dean swallows when you wrap your fingers around him, “I’m not complaining, baby.”

You smile and give him a little squeeze, stroking steadily up and down. “That good?”

“Mmm, yeah.” Dean sucks in air through his teeth. “Squeeze a little tighter.”

You obey, tightening your grip as you smear the clear lubricant over hard, warm flesh. Dean moans, seemingly unable to keep his hands to himself, and you giggle when he palms handfuls of your ass.

“That feels real good,” he murmurs, “little faster.”

Again, you comply, speeding up until you feel his fingers tense and he utters a choked “there.” He pulses in your grip, the slick sound of your hand on him filling the room along with moans and grunts that he’s definitely holding back on.

“You can be loud,” you assure him, “I like it.”

Dean answers with a breathy moan, one hand falling from your waist to clench in the sheets. “Keep doing that, baby,” he whispers, “keep going, it feels so good.”

You keep pumping, one hand sliding down to cup his balls. He stiffens when your nails graze lightly over the smooth flesh, a whine almost too high to be manly leaving his throat. You wait for his breathing to increase, his grunts and groans getting louder, and make your thumb and index finger into a tight ring that circles just below the shining crown of his dick. Opening your other palm, you rub quickly over the velvety flesh.

Dean lets out a choked “fuck!” and bucks his hips, panting wildly into the air. “I’m gonna cum,” he warns, “shit… keep doing that, baby, keep going—”

He cums in a steady stream of white that courses down over your hand and several jerky thrusts as he tries to fuck himself into your hand. You keep going even after the wet pulsing under your palm stops, giggling as you experiment with this newfound side of him.

He finally begs you to stop, pushing at your waist as you let him fall onto his stomach, half-hard and covered in his own mess. Sliding off of him, you reach for the towel and wipe your hands before cleaning him up as best you can. He lies there, panting hard with an arm over his eyes until you toss the towel into his hamper and lean over to give him a kiss.

“Goddamn,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ve been around the block, but that was…”

“New?”

He nods and cups the back of your head. “Stay here tonight? I’ll pay you back in the morning.”

You hum against his lips. “Sounds fair… I need to wash my hands, though.”

Dean chuckles. “I bet the water in the tub is still warm. Wanna find out?”

You grin and let him pull you off the bed. “Lead the way.”

Likes don’t spread my work, please reblog & comment if you enjoyed reading this :)

The rest of this series is available on Patreon for $3.

FOREVER TAGS: @atc74 @comicmcfly @defenderrosetyler @daughterofthenight117 @deanmonandnegansbitch @emberocrpblog @emoryhemsworth @ellen-reincarnated1967 @fangirl-and-medstudent-help @fandom-princess-forevermore @heartsaved @kittenofdoomage @kickingitwithkirk @lovelyrocker @lunarsaturn88 @mariekoukie6661 @mrswhozeewhatsis @neii3n @nellachain @percussiongirl2017 @ssworldofsw @squirrel-moose-winchester @sea040561 @sammysnaughtygirl @starsandasteroids @spnwoman @spnbaby-67 @serpentbaby @stoneyggirl @thecleverdame @tumbler-tidbits @thelittleredwhocould @winecatsandpizza @zombiewerewolfqueen @85natalie @4won

#cosmo says...#sam x reader x dean #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader insert #sam winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x reader insert #dean winchester fanfiction

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specter-speeder · 4 years

Text

here’s a bad but wholesome horror fic by yours truly (angst, fluff, and v lil gore)

In which Danny pulls some true Paranormal Activity sh*t on his family. Only kind of makes sense, but let me be amused by this concept, okay? Post-reveal. Do I even have to say no Phantom Planet?

“I am a ghost. Fear me.”

Danny started to feel it a few days after his parents had closed the portal. It was time for the ecto-filtrator to go - when Jack and Maddie had designed it, they hadn’t anticipated the size of the Ghost Zone and its post-human population. It saw more traffic than it could handle, thanks to Danny’s fatal slip-up. They’d been working on a new containment system for the ectoplasmic waste the portal produced with each ghost that breached it, but installation meant disabling the machine for an entire week.

Without his ghost fights, Danny had become restless quickly. That much he could manage. He knew what would come next, though, and he wouldn’t dare let on to his family. Since becoming a ghost, he’d only felt this starved a few times before. It was one of his inhuman qualities he hated the most. His ghost half was yearning for fear. It was making him ill. Gave him a reason to miss his class’s 3-day team-building retreat. He’d insisted to Sam and Tucker that he had things under control— he wanted to think he did. Now, Sam and Tucker were gone, and Danny was battling fevered sleep for most hours of the day. He’d never felt so drained.

Call it intuition; Jazz knew this wasn’t the flu. Danny didn’t used to insist on hiding it when he felt like crap. In fact, the Danny she grew up with wouldn’t stop whining about it whenever he was sick. This had to be a ghost thing. She wondered if her parents messing with the portal was somehow hurting him, but Danny wouldn’t budge. He wasn’t going to help her understand. She’d been dialing Sam and Tucker all day - straight to voicemail. She’d just poked her head into Danny’s room, only to find him awake in bed and glaring at her, when she felt her phone buzz. She tiptoed further down the hall and checked the caller ID: Sam Manson.

Next thing Danny knew, his mom, dad, and Jazz were creeping into his room, forcing sympathetic smiles. Sh*t, what now? Maddie placed her hand on his forehead, he swatted it away, eyes narrowed.

“How’re you feeling, sweetie?”

“The same. Why are—“

“You don’t have the flu.” Jazz interrupted. Danny clenched his jaw.

“Jazz, maybe we could talk about this privately?” he muttered.

Jack crossed his arms. “Don’t be mad at your sister. We’re worried, too.” Danny’s eyes met Jazz’s, questioning. She sighed.

“Sam told me everything.”

Danny scrubbed his hands over his face and groaned.

“I told her how bad you were, and she’s on my side. You need help.” He shook his head, glancing at his parents anxiously.

“Look, guys... you can’t help me. Just get the portal up and running and—“

“You need someone to be afraid.” Maddie stopped him, her voice clinical.

Danny stumbled over his words, trying to answer quickly. “If the portal’s working, the ghosts can—“

“Danny, it’s not close to being done.”

Jack nodded in agreement. “Your friend said it would work, so... we thought maybe, you could scare us.”

Danny’s ears rung. They shouldn’t have offered. Sam should have shut down Jazz’s stupid idea, for his sake. He didn’t want to say yes. He really, really didn’t want to say yes. He blinked.

“You mean... use my powers to...”

“We’ll know it’s only you, so... how bad can it be?”

Everything in him was urging him to take the offer, against his own wishes. He could already feel energy prickling on his spine, cooling him off. Relief.

“Are you sure?” He asked blankly. Maddie was too quick to answer.

“Of course.”

“Really sure?”

She nodded hesitantly. Jack didn’t look so convinced.

Danny took a deep breath, cold anticipation churning in his lungs. It was all he needed, and there was no going back now. With a loud electrical pop, his room was pitch black. He sunk underneath his bed and let himself transform, the typical bright flash weakened to a dull glow. All was quiet.

“Danny...?” Maddie ventured.

Phantom’s ghost form appeared in front of them in a flash, for a fraction of a second. Wide-eyed and mouth ajar, both glowing entirely green and oozing fog. Expressionless. Maddie jumped, and the Fentons were in the dark again.

The lights flickered on, but Danny’s room was different. His bed was stripped down to the mattress. All that remained on his shelves were his model rockets. His books, other trinkets, his trunk— everything was gone. Maddie felt her heart pounding in her chest, Jack was frozen, and Jazz’s eyes fluttered open cautiously.

“Where...?” Jack breathed, inching toward his wife.

Jack glanced toward the ceiling, but as soon as he saw it, it all fell. Danny’s books slammed to the floor. His trunk was the loudest, hitting the ground with a bang and toppling open, sending various balls and sports equipment bouncing with supernatural strength. Everything glowed a faint green. Before the objects settled, the Fentons were struck by Danny’s sheets and bedspread, flying toward them at what felt like 100 miles per hour. Jazz couldn’t help but scream.

The force had shoved them through Danny’s doorway. When they finally threw the bedding off, Danny’s door slammed shut in front of them, cracking the frame. Maddie eyed the railing just behind them. She’d been sure Danny wouldn’t hurt them, but another foot and they’d have been hurled over it. She wasn’t so convinced anymore. Could he blame her?

Jazz knew this was her idea, but she hated what she’d unleashed. She felt anger bubble at Sam. Was this supposed to be a punishment for caring about her brother? She thought they were beyond that. How often was Danny like this? Did his creepy girlfriend encourage it? She didn’t know much outside regretting she hadn’t tried harder for another solution.

“Away from the stairs. C’mon, away from the stairs!” Maddie urged, grabbing Jack and Jazz by their sleeves and cautiously tugging them down to the living room. She could’ve sworn they left the lights on, but everything was dim now save for the light of the setting sun drifting through the windows. The trio huddled close.

Static crackled as the television switched on. “—has residents questioning the whereabouts of the infamous Amity Park ghost, known by some as Phantom. Next, we’re live with—” The nightly news quickly cut to a vibrant green screen, accompanied by a reverberating, high-pitched ring. Jazz clasped her hands over her ears as it grew louder, piercing the air. It filled her with an unmistakable sense of dread, hopelessness.

“Mads…” Jack whispered, raising a shaking finger. They turned to face the windows. One by one, each vertical blind swayed slightly, an unseen force moving across them. It’s just Danny—she repeated the phrase over in her mind, grasping for a sense of calm. The movement stopped.

“Is it over?” Jack looked to Jazz. She shook her head unknowingly, eyes fixed on the window. She could see people outside. Neighbors who wouldn’t think a thing of ghost activity erupting from their home. Jack held his breath as Maddie caught hers. Her sense of calm was torn from her as soon as she’d found it.

The sound of snapping wood thundered from the blinds as they abruptly slammed shut, sending Jazz scrambling back. Jack caught her as she tripped over the carpet, hoisting her back onto her feet. The din from the television was deafening, its screen casting a green light on the entire room. Where Jazz had slipped lay a smudged pool of glowing ectoplasm, reflecting bright green. Maddie was the first to notice. Her head tilted upward slowly.

Danny hung upside-down, slack-jawed. Thick ectoplasm filled his mouth, dripping from his lips and empty eye sockets. His ribs jutted from his barely-opaque torso, a mangled mix of white and green disappearing into a ghostly tail. Gutted.

Jazz and Jack followed Maddie’s gaze, only catching a glimpse of the horrific form before it vanished completely. Maddie shrieked Danny’s name, a piercing combination of anger and terror.

“Sh*t!” Jack wrapped his arms around Maddie and reached for Jazz’s hand. The growing pool of ectoplasm on the floor bubbled and crept toward them, forcing them toward the kitchen. He shoved his family through the door and slammed it shut. It oozed through the frame.

The kitchen looked normal enough, but none of them dared move. The lights had been spared, and everything seemed to be in its place. After a few seconds of silence, every cabinet was thrown open at once, omitting a hideously loud slam. Maddie yelped and Jack grabbed her protectively, every hair on his neck standing up. Jazz leaned against the table, on the verge of tears.

With the last bang, it ended. Danny reappeared in the corner of the room. A quick white flash and he was his human self again, hands pressed against the walls to stabilize himself. He looked up at his wide-eyed family, panting. They looked scared of him. Of course they looked scared of him.

“What the f*ck, Danny!?” Jazz shrieked.

“Language!” Maddie chided.

Danny’s eyes flicked toward the cabinets, still ajar. He’d seen too many scary movies. He raised both hands defensively, shrinking against the wall.

“I won’t do it again. Promise.”

A beat of silence was broken by Jack’s deep, bellowing laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Jazz hissed.

Jack shook his head. “Look at ‘im!” Danny furrowed his brow.

“This kid did all that? I mean, who knew you had it in ya?”

Danny shrugged uncomfortably, averting his eyes.

“I know you’re a ghost, but c’mon!” Jack chuckled, wiping his eye.

Maddie took a step forward. Then, another. She wrapped Danny in her arms and ruffled his hair. “You’re okay.”

Jazz relaxed, her shoulders dropping. She’d agreed to be scared. And sure enough, Danny had f*cking scared her. Less than a minute into the ordeal she’d forgotten why she suggested it in the first place. Now, in their mother’s arms, he looked so normal.

“Feel better?” she asked softly.

“Yeah…” Danny huffed regretfully, “I do.”

“Never again.” Jazz insisted, pointing a threatening finger. Danny shuddered and crossed his heart.

“Alright, alright. Leave him alone,” Jack intervened, cracking himself up. “Mads, you should’ve seen your face!” Maddie rolled her eyes and released Danny.

“Oh, you scared me, alright. I thought you were going for the china.”

“It’s a good thing I was there, eh Danny-boy?” Jack elbowed his ribs. Danny raised an eyebrow.

“Honestly? I can’t back that up.”

“No, really? Did you see me flinch?” Danny stifled a smile.

Maddie chuckled. “Enough jokes, Jack.”

“Not once!” he bellowed. Maddie gave Danny a slap on the back.

“Okay, back upstairs.” He blinked incredulously.

“I’m not cleaning your room!”

“Tomorrow!” Danny insisted.

“Tomorrow.”

Jazz smiled. Yeah, they’d be alright.

Jack shook his head. “How’d we end up with a kid like you?” Danny grabbed a bag of chips from the open pantry, his appetite returning. He waved a hand dismissively as he disappeared into the living room.

“Same way you ended up with a portal to another dimension in the basement!”

#danny phantom #danny fenton #phic #danny phantom fanfiction #danny phantom fanfic #tumblr said i can't go in the tags with Swears #boo #this is the first fic i've posted!#i didn't edit it #but it's been boppin around my nog for a while #things i like:#danny is willing to destroy his room EXCEPT for his rockets those stay put!#jazz thinks sam knew this would be a mess and just let it happen anyway #all the horror movies sam made her buds watch came in handy for better or worse #maddie is able to spot danny needin a hug a mile away #if someone drew gooey gory danny scaring his family i would die #disclaimers:#re: first fic i've posted i don't know how to format fiction and 200% did it wrong #i tried to do what looked right lol #if you have something to say about this fic pls say it to me hi #deleted moment:#the fentons get competitive and make danny tell them who was scarediest #and danny’s just like uhhh idk i was kinda busy being horrifying #mine #fic

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writingsofmyimagination · 4 years

Text

28 Days |Epilogue|

GIF by: @suggamiin

Genre: Werewolf Au (Jimin x Reader) Part 1 Part 2

Rating:18+

Summary: It’s your birthday and well...you get treated. Sinful PWP to end this.

Word Count:3188

Warnings: Swearing,Smut - Slight exhibitionism, sex toys (cock ring) SUB Jimin... I repeat Sub Jimin.

Final Part!!!!! Loved this sooo much.

@safi4x @nerdygaloresposts @sockie-the-dumbass @jimin-75

You were gratefully stolen from your nightmare of failing your end of year exams by the soothing scent of waffles. The glucose of the maple syrup powerful but tantalising to your drowsy senses. Dragging yourself from the comfort, you made a stumble to the kitchen area. A waffle sliding off the spatula onto the plate, his neck nudging his head into your newly emerged direction. You went to retrieve your fluffy dressing gown from the arm of a chair. His gaze briefly frozen on the curves of your behind feebly covered by the black lace hot pants teasing from under his shirt. The only skin available for your eyes to feast on was the occasional trail of veins running down his arms. Ripped denim skinnies sat over black and white vans, laces gleaming white. Red tee with the cutest pocket over his chest fitted and tucked into his leather belt. Heaven forbid he ever look scruffy to go out.

“Take a picture it lasts longer” you toyed covering the view and making your way over to him

“How many times have I asked you?” he countered serving the question straight back

“No, you’ve asked me if you can film us fucking, slight difference” your return bouncing the un-returnable ball in his court.

“Hey I’ve needed something while you’ve been busy revising and FINE! I’m asking now” He pulled you closer by your behind, hands having a firm squeeze for breakfast. You dodged his incoming kiss, leaning to the side to slide your finger through the maple syrup drizzled on your plate. His eyes frozen on the way your finger disappeared in your mouth and sucked on the digit he easily wished was his cock.

“I’m more hungry for actual food right now” You pecked him on the cheek kidnapping the plate from behind him.

“You’re insufferable when you tease you know that”

“You have your finals to focus on today”

“I know I know” His leather jacket sliding on his shoulders smooth as silk.

“Good luck”

“Happy Birthday baby” The drawn-out kiss on your forehead brought a beaming smile to your lips, insides heating up to a pleasant warm fuzz. Before he had the chance to straighten out your hands captured the back of his neck dragging him into a heated kiss which he fell weakly for.

“Remember to wear something nice for me later”

“As if I’d let you take me out in anything but. Can you not even give me a hint?”

“Nope”

You had no idea how dressy you needed to be.

Are we going out out or just just out?

Opting for as mid ‘out’ as you could you dug out your button front dress. The dress was belted with a silk tie, it stopped mid-thigh scooping slightly at the sides. The chest and long sleeves were laced in a pretty delicate floral pattern. Your hair was curled swooped over one shoulder and pinned. White hi-top converse snug on your feet.

Fuck heels, I need comfort

He rocked up at your door in black skinnies which were tight around his thighs.

Jesus lord mother of Mary

That alone could make your mouth hit the floor. The cotton fresh white v neck tugged tight into his gold buckled belt. The same leather jacket, silver zips scattered across in silver strips. Face bright, the concoction of exams going well and the reaction to the approved visuals of you.

“Ready?”

“Don’t I look ready?”

“I mean you look stunning but did you really have to wear something so easily taken off?”

“Is that a complaint?”

“More of a why do you have to be such a teasing bitch?” he chuckled as you swatted his arm.

He blindfolded you as soon as you got to his car.

You were cautious to your feet guided by Jimin until he ordered you to stop.

“Don’t move”

“Like I’m going to wander off” you shot back.

A click was the only thing reaching your ears. The smell of the room was familiar but your brain was too intrigued and giddy to bother working out why.

The blindfold fell from your face leaving only scrunched up eyebrows until the glint above you drew your attention. You were in the university library, the floor normally underneath tables had been pushed to the side, table legs flaying the air. It was astronomy week and the students had secured fairy lights to the ceiling in the shape of a star constellation. The blinds were shut, the fairy lights intermittently twinkling above you; like diamonds on a royals crown. He emerged from behind the desk with a wicker picnic basket and a rolled chequered blanket tucked under his arm. His sweet smile only subtly laced with triumph. Your gaze still fixed on the false sky.

“I know how comforting you find the library and how much of grump you get when your cold so didn’t want to take you out…”

“I love it!” you beamed nearly knocking the picnic basket from his grasp as you smothered him with a hug; his free hand steadying the influx of your weight against him.

“But If you haven’t got sausage rolls in there I will seriously reconsider our relationship” you teased plonking yourself down on the cleared floor atop the blanket.

“They were the first thing I picked up” he calmed.

“Ready for your present?”

“Mmmhmm” you hummed mouth full of scotch egg. Jimin fished out a small box from his pocket.

“Well open it. I’m not proposing” he beckoned after your stared at it for a moment too long.

“Jimin it’s beautiful” you cooed looking and the tear drop pendant weaved in your fingers. The outside ripples of silver, the main body was crystal clear, shimmering as you tilted your hands.

“Look closer” he urged. You did as you were told for once.

“How did you…?”

“You’d be surprised at who Yoongi has as contacts” he explained. Carved into the gem was the unmistakeably twizzled in swirls of patterns of haemoglobin. Something heavily involved in your thesis and wanted to specialise in in regards to how some viruses attack this area.

“I knew your nerd ass would love it and all jokes aside you give me so much life and I do feel sometimes you’re my oxygen that I need flooding through me to live” he paused.

“You know like haemoglobin”

“I’m more than aware of its function Jimin” you chuckled. He was sweet; the sweetness coaxed water to fill your eyes with none of it falling.

“I love you too you big softy” You were already clipping the chain around your neck. He lent over to you lips pressing hard into you. The other gift he’d presented was far less innocent.

“Are you planning on getting the strawberries and cream out or what?” you mouthed speaking into his kiss, lightly grappling at his bottom lip. The sucrose in the air was all too suffocating.

“Are you not sweet enough?” he teased failing to hold his cringe filled laugh. You lightly shoved his chase away from you.

“Get that cheese away pllleeaase” you begged. In order to maintain your dignity your leg was slightly bent and raised before you. Your thigh was more exposed but at least your underwear was covered.

“Oops” You shook your head, the cool cream conveniently dripping onto your thigh as Jimin fed you the last but one strawberry. As straight as his face was his true intention hadn’t been masked in his eyes.

“Well are you going to clear up your mess or not?”

“Well if you insist”

You planted both hands behind you leaning back, his warm tongue collecting the cool cream escaping down your thigh.

“I think you taste sweeter” he hummed, his tongue spanning his lips before disappearing back into his mouth. Your sudden movements caught him off guard. Enough to let you have advantage and push his weight back enough to fight yours to be on top. You scrunched his shirt up to his neck. Perfect olive skin. Muscles taught and firm under his skin. His eyes diligent in following the drips of cream pooling over his stomach, his muscles twitched at the temperature. The last strawberry dragged through the milky coating on his skin before half of it disappeared in your mouth.

“I think you do”

“Why don’t you come up over here so I can taste you again?” You were by no means going to say no but you were going to tease him until he pleaded for it. You stood, shimmying out of your underwear. His brows knitting together when you sat back down still over his hips and not his face.

“Don’t pout!” the buttons on the front of your dress one by one slowly became unhooked. His hands automatically resting firm on your hips after his hands quickly laid claim to your chest.

“I just thought I’d make myself that bit sweeter for you”

“And how do you think you can do that?” he challenged. He was too busy admiring your front he’d not seen your hands dip behind and retrieve the cream pot.

“Like this?” You watched the trail make its way down through the valley of your breasts running over your stomach to pool in between your thighs and run down his sides. His eyes now shifted to your core laced in creamy glucose.

“Fuck princess” he whined, those unstoppable flecks raging in his eyes.

“Get up here now!”

Excuse me?

Your expression clearly mirrored your thoughts

“Please” his tone so whiny compared to his last demand.

His purr vibrated at your core, cream smudging around his lips. The cat who definitely got the cream. Your hand flew to his tangle in his hair, the other flying out to secure yourself against the beech desk in front of you. Nail meeting the smooth surface with nothing to grip onto.

Your head dropped; his eyes were closed held together in the total ecstasy of you. Only when the moans started trickling from your lips did his eyes burn up hard into you. The more pressure he put against your core the less you were able to hold his clouded over fuelled red eyes. This boy could have you cumming on his tongue quicker than anyone else. Whether it was because he could hear your heartbeat or the whole essence thing made it more intense but it he could have you so damn quick. You knew he was taking his time; any other day you’d already be begging him for your third release already, easy. The torturous slow stripes he made with his tongue had the deep groans boiling in your throat.

“Please make me cum already” you whined tugging his hair, grabbing his attention to your face and not the feast he was making between your legs He’d kept you dancing on the edge for too long.

“Make yourself” he coaxed in between the breathes he was catching up on. It wasn’t a sarcastic comeback. Definitely not.

“Want me to ride that pretty face of yours?” current roles subtly switching.

“Mmmhmm” he hummed swiping your arousal from his lips with his tongue, eyes blown, completely fucked out. You breathed a ‘sigh’ with a jesting eye roll. You were inebriated, addicted to how he loved it when you used him to get off. He was equally to you using him. His head stayed docile, his tongue a podium still and stiff for you to take your prize. Both your hands now steadied against the desk, hips gyrating over him.

No longer would he dance you along the jagged edge of your release. You threw yourself off, all the weight of previous refusals crashing on top of you. You fell hard. Your head hung; exhausted for a moment before giving Jimin room to breathe.

“Does this hurt?” You teased palming his cock straining against the tight denim of his jeans. The hiss and chokes echoing in the room answering your questions with perfect clarity.

“Well we can’t have that”

“Go behind the desk” He did as he was told.

“Why have I never thought about fucking you over the library desk” He cursed himself.

“I never said you were going to fuck me” Swirling the new cock ring he’d bought for you round your finger.

“Guarantee you’ll need me to fuck you when you’ve finished toying with me”

He always fucking knows.

His top discarded, slung over the top of the desk that shielded you from the rest of the library. Your hands guiding themselves across the perfect sculpture of his back, nails purposely leaving red trails. The cool leather of his belt resting against your skin. The front of his jeans pulled down his cock strained with the ring. Gargled moans and pants disrupting the calm of the library each time you hand gripped and moved.

“Going to beg yet?”

“No..o” Your hand snaked up his back, hair taught in your wrists.

“How about now? You breathed dangerously close to his ear, back arching in a crescent obediently to you. Vibration now throbbing through his already painful member. Neck strained, unrestrained grunts bobbing his adams apple. He blissfully regretted the present he got for you already; not too much though.

“Fuck” he whined, restraint and control leaking from his voice.

“Okay okay” Tolerance snapping as you your hands stroked him in a torturous slow movement

You stopped, pushed the power switch on the ring. Straightening yourself. Hands staying where the stilled; a potential threat if his words were not satisfactory.

He took whatever breath he could into his lungs, knuckles white gripped on the table.

“Pleeease let me fuck you, please let me cum mmm…. hand, mouth I don’t care” His arms struggled not to buckle, desperation thick through his strength.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even care anymore?” Your thumb glazing over the end of his cock.

“Jesus…yes” his voice breaking in sync with his cracked resolve. With him facing the front you could only see his jaw tensing up, the side of his eyes straining to stay open.

“Are you that desperate that you don’t even want to make me cum before you?”

“mmm…No!”

Correct answer!

“Good boy” you praised

“Now I’m going to turn this back on and you’re going to wait until I allow you to cum. You’ve got to fuck me now. I’m dying to have you inside me”

Unanimous profanities bubbled into the room; bodies finally entwined. You both stilled, him fully inside you. Everything just felt too good. Senses overwhelmed with sweet sensations. Your arms crossed at the back of his neck fingertips tight to his skin. The perspiration glazing his forehead mingling with yours. Both looking down to where you connected.

“Ready?” asking and clenching around him at the time had him pinning his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Mmm” he breathed breathing through your torturous tensing.

“Words” you lightly scolded clenching again. His throat bobbed tense.

“Yes” he finally managed.

The throbbing vibrations resumed through him. The patch on top of the ring now vibrated through your clit each time he jolted his hips into you. His laboured breathing indicative of him holding back, funnelling control in his movements. Hot air swirling between you. Your head incapable of moving against the firm hand keeping your head with his. The muscles in your legs tensing, verging on cramping with how tight they gripped at his waist keeping the vibrations on you as much as possible. His bucks sudden and precise, enough apart that he can just about hold onto himself.

“Fuck, please give… it up to…” He was desperate, he needed you to cum so badly so you would show mercy on him.

“Hold it” you ordered. He whimpered, uncertain of his ability to do as he was told. His head drooped to the nook of your neck teeth latching on in a weak attempt to transfer some of the frustration and distraction somewhere else. He choked when your legs locked and pulled him as close as humanly possible. His restricted movement gave you the control to circle your hips around him directing the vibrations in the rhythm you needed. His hot breathes became jagged, fanning across the front of your shoulder.

“Count to 3 then cum for me baby” You panted.

“1” his hips snapped once.

“2” you clenched around him, controlling your muscles not to give. His moans stuttered.

“3” the count was almost breathless; almost devoid of sound. You arched into him shoving the vibrating pack back harsh against your clit, tightening around him again.

Swear words groaned out of his mouth, your core pulsing around him in waves washing you with serotonin. The rush of exaggerated senses never stopped overwhelming you too see white spots shadowing your visions. Sex with your essence was ridiculously other worldly; normal sex now completely transcended. You viced onto his body until his hips finished jerking.

Ugh! No condom, going to be an uncomfortable trip home. But..

“Jesus you’re going to kill me” he panted as you tapped at his hips

Move back

Powering down the ring, slipping it off with a grunt from him.

“Well you got me this remember so really you’ve done yourself in” Your index fingertip beckoning a hot soft kiss to your lips.

“I want one more thing from you baby”

“Anything” he confessed popping the buttons of his jeans back into looking decent.

“I’m not making my way home with your mess dripping out of me. Clean it up” You couldn’t decide who donned the filthier smirk Jimin or you. Within a beat he was on his knees, tugging a leg over his shoulder. Hurrying your hands behind you stabilising yourself from cracking your head on the top level of the desk. A gargled groan eliciting from the flicks of his tongue, the sensitive nub quietly welcoming the soft warm strokes. When his motions became less focused on collecting and began to circle more at your clit you gripped and yanked his hair.

Fuck, he looks sweet

“Look at you with your own cum glistening on your chin…so sexy” The visual pulled at the recovering coils in your core; but the light smile on your face slowly erupted into a small laugh. In retaliation he bounced up forcing an unbalancing harsh kiss. Transferring the chimera of your climaxes to your lips. You fingers teasing your buttons at the front of your dress closed, away from the already wandering eyes of Jimin.

“You taste so good mixed with me” He purred burying into your neck inhaling the after sex intoxicating scent he swooned for.

“Stop talking like that or I’ll wanna fuck you again” you warned. He burrowed further hands tightening at your hips

“And?” he countered

“I’d much rather you take me back home so I can do it with YOUR new favourite toy”

“Is it my birthday or yours?” His body remembering how hard he came with the new purple strap on you loved torturing him with.

“Having you in tears begging for me to go harder is all the present I need”

#bts #ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #sub-bts-network #kwritersworldnet #networkbangtan #bangtanarmynet #btsguild #jimin x reader #bts smut #BTS jimin #park jimin #28 days

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userarchive · 4 years

Text

Unexpected Circumstances Ch 9

Warnings: Language, talk of SVU job, SMUT

The squad was gathered around the white board in the bull pen, Olivia obviously letting you take the lead. You had headshots of Alejandro, his brother and yourself on the board, branching off to various smaller ones of drug dealers, arms dealers and women who you regularly worked with. The ones you knew either weren’t at the last bust, or had gotten out/dealt out with smaller misdemeanours. There was a smaller list to the side with pimps who Alejandro fraternized with and often had bring their girls to parties, a lot of which ended up being the underage ones that you were targeting to get out of sex trafficking.

“We’ll host a couple of smaller parties over the next few weeks, make it known that we’re back out there. New Years Eve is going to be the big one, it always was and always will be, people are already out to party and make bad decisions. We keep people positioned in nearby clubs, bars and private parties enticing more guests to us. I want Kat under as a madam with only two UC girls with her, I’ll fill the rest of her team myself so it doesn’t look suspicious that her girls don’t want to play. Fin, I want you there as a guest, you’ve worked narcotics, it’ll help.” You turned so Benson was in your eye line, “You bust in when I give the cue, and only when I give the cue, not a second sooner, I don’t care what you see or hear. I don’t care if there’s a gun pulled, we have our own security team on big nights like this.”

“I’m not sure if I’m com—“ You cut her off, not really caring that she was your Captain at the moment.

“I know what I’m talking about Captain, and if you want to actually catch as many of the scumbags that attend these things, you’ll wait for my go. If you bust in at the wrong time, or the wrong day and screw everything up I’ll be stuck back under for God knows how long.” You rotated to speak mainly to Sonny, “You should be ready for one hell of a battle, I’d call a second chair if I were you, but you better be damn well sure it’s someone you know and can trust.”

“Lotta big names?” He replied, knowing just how serious you were.

“The last time there was a ring this big being investigated Captain Cragen ended up with a dead hooker in his bed. I’d suggest you all watch your backs, and keep a clear mind on who ends up arrested, or the names that come up in investigation. You might have friends that were regular party attendees some of them are absolute garbage human beings, no matter what you think of them now, don’t let that cloud your judgement, let the ones who were there give their statements. There’s also a lotta brass at these parties, higher ups, people you definitely wouldn’t expect, about half are committing crimes, the other ones simply come to socialize. They don’t have anyone to go home to so they come find solace with us.” You shrugged, gesturing in a ‘whatever works’ motion.

“How much of this do you have documented?” Carisi asked, knowing that you’d always been very detail oriented when it came to your paperwork.

“All of it..And it’s far more than circumstantial. There’s a reason I offered to do the books for Alejandro.”

***

After the brief was done with the squad, the paperwork filed with Benson, she decided to send you home early, much to the joy of you and Sonny. You spent the afternoon entangled with each other on the couch, Sonny’s hands never once leaving you, weaving through your hair, lips meeting your skin at small intervals as you soaked up each others love for as long as you could.

You joined him in the kitchen, jumping up onto the island while he made your favourite dinner, taking little moments to share nibbles of food with you, or press soft kisses against your lips. You’d made sure to pick up a couple of bottles of his favourite wine that paired perfectly with the food. You hadn’t even bothered to move from the kitchen table after dinner, you simply curled up in his lap head leant back against his shoulder while you finished the wine. Sonny drained his wine glass, giving the side of your neck a series of soft kisses, murmuring against the shell of your ear.

“I wanna show ya how much I love you…”

“Sonny, you just made the best dinner, I know you love me.” He snickered at that, nipping at your earlobe.

“Doll, ya know what I mean.” You couldn’t help but smile, shifting in his lap so you were straddling his thighs.

“Oh I suppose I do…” You cupped his face in your hands, lips meeting his softly. They moved against each other with such a sense of intimacy, your arms wrapping around his neck while his tugged against your hips, pulling your flush against him. The kiss was deep, sensual, Sonny couldn’t get enough, tasting the wine on your tongue, but more importantly trying to savour the taste that was so distinctly you. You loved kissing him, you always had, and you knew you always would. His lips were just so fucking perfect, so soft, gentle when you wanted and merciless when you just needed him. You swore you could kiss him forever, there were many nights earlier in your relationship where all you did was kiss and some of those nights were even better than the mind blowing sex. He pulled away with the uttermost gentleness, a hand coming up to stroke your cheek, the look of complete infatuation and adoration in his eyes.

“I love you so much sweetheart.” You swelled, kissing the tip of his nose.

“I love you too Dominick.” The ribbons of warmth and love surrounded you, simply happy in each others arms, you could practically lose yourself in those ocean eyes. Hands trailing down his arms, you grasped his hand in yours, climbing off his lap. “I do believe you had something to show me?” You quirked a brow, adding the hint of lust back into the room, smiling at the sly grin on his face as he eagerly followed you to the bedroom.

Sonny kissed you again, this time with a slightly higher sense of urgency, lips moving with vigour against yours, groaning against your mouth. Your hands tugged at the hem of his shirt while you felt his glide under yours, relishing in the feeling of his fingers against your bare skin. The kiss broke long enough to tear the offending items of fabric off, Carisi was quick to make work of your bra, dropping it to the ever growing pile of clothes. His lips left yours to move down your neck, eliciting a shiver from you while your hands made work of his belt buckle. You swatted against his chest when you felt his teeth sink into your skin,

“No marks!”

“Sorry…” He murmured, returning his lips to yours as his hands cupped your breasts, pinching and rolling at the peaks, a sigh escaping you into his mouth.

You finally managed to get his pants undone, pushing them down along with his boxers, slowly dropping to your knees, you smirked up at him, hand wrapping around his cock. Sonny gasped at the feeling of your hand spreading his pre-cum around, giving him a couple of slow pumps. You mouth moved to his balls, sucking them into your mouth, moaning around them, eyes fluttering shut, you felt his cock twitch in your hand. Humming in appreciation, knowing he was enjoying this as much as you were you let them pop out of your mouth, your lips setting a gentle kiss on the head of his length. Sucking just the tip into your mouth, his hips jutted forward, a hand reaching out to cup your cheek, ever the gentle lover. You lowered your mouth, tongue dragging a broad strip from his base before you took him in, lowering as far as you could, hands bracing on. his thighs. Your tongue traced patterns around the sensitive skin while you pumped your mouth around him, hollowing your cheeks, a mix of saliva and pre cum swirling around your mouth and his cock. Sonny’s hips thrust forward, hitting the back of your throat, you let out a light gag, pulling off him to catch a breath.

“You okay Doll?” His soft eyes blown with lust but still concerned for you, you nodded, smiling up at him. He tugged on your hand, pulling you up to standing, “Pretty sure I’m supposed to be showing you how much I love ya though.” You giggled at that, meeting his lips in a tender yet carnal kiss as you collapsed down onto the bed. His lips dragged their way across your exposed skin, kissing and sucking at every inch he could, his teeth digging in to the underside of your tit quickly before he glanced up at you, “How ‘bout here?” He winked, already knowing the answer, simply wanting to leave his mark on you before he left. He was quick to bite and suck a burning mark into the tender flesh, his hands shoving at the waistband of your pants. He pulled them off you with ease, not able to wait before licking through your folds, moaning heavily at the taste of your juices.

Your hands flew to his hair, mussing up the perfectly gelled locks, hips grinding against his mouth while he continued his attack. His tongue darted out, lapping at the wetness oozing out of your pussy, murmuring about how fucking delicious you were, how much he fucking loved your cunt. He may have been the perfect little Catholic boy, but inside the bedroom he could be unbelievably dirty, and that dirty talk just edged you on, your walls clenching around nothing hearing the words topple from his mouth. The quickening pace of your moans notified him that you were already so close, despite barely being touched. You yelped when he sucked your clit into his gorgeous mouth at the same second he plunged two fingers into you, pumping quickly, your hand digging tightly against his hair. He moaned at the sting, the vibrations nearly throwing you over the edge, a whine of his name leaving your lips, it only took a few flicks of his tongue against your sensitive nub and his fingers grazing the spongey wall inside you for you to be shaking underneath him, cumming harder than you thought you could. Gently removing himself from you, a soft hand tickled its way up your side, curling against your cheek, thumb rubbing soothingly as his waited for you to stop panting.

“You still okay?” His voice was quiet but you could hear the desire in it, the lust begging eyes staring down at you, you chuckled, nodding once again.

“Roll over…” You husked, gently pushing him onto his back as you straddled his lap. Leaning down you kissed him gently, tugging his bottom lip between your lip before you sat up. Your hand reached behind you, grasping his cock, slowly pumping it before raising your hips, shuddering at the feeling of his head between your folds. Wanton moans leaving both your lips as you sunk down onto him, relishing in the feeling of his thickness filling you up so perfectly.

Bracing your hands on his abdomen you gave yourself a second, adjusting to his size and the sensation before slowly rolling your hips, gasping at the feel. His hands found your hips, gripping gently as you began to ride him, breathy moans breaking your lips, head lolling back. You could feel his eyes on you, watching your tits bounce, admiring the way that his cock slid into you so easily, your juices glistening around it. He dragged past your g-spot, causing your to clench around him, losing the control you had, collapsing against him, burying yourself into. his neck as you hips continued to pump. Sonny wrapped his arms tightly around you, bracing his feet on the bed to thrust up into you.

The entire experience was so sensual, so pleasuring, there was no doubt denying the love you held for each other. The little whispers and whimpers of each others names breathing through your lips, the sentiments of I love you’s shared in the moment of passion. You felt nothing but absolute desire and fondness, wanting nothing but the moment to last forever. You felt the coil about to burst within you, Sonny could feel your walls pulsating around him, it was a rare occurrence, but you ended up yelping out through your orgasms in nearly the same moment. You body shivering, burying yourself even deeper against him as his hips stilled against yours, you could feel the warmth of him spurting inside you, relishing in the feeling of it.

You laid a few lazy kisses along his neck, tasting the saltiness of the sweat while his hands lightly stroked down your back and into your hair, letting him soften inside you, holding onto the moments of intimacy. Eventually you pushed your body up, pulling off at him, the warm feeling of his release dribbling down your legs before you curled around him, a leg thrown between his, hand tracing patterns on his stoic chest. Sonny broke the silence after a few long minutes,

“D’ya have ta go in right away t’morrow?” You laid a gentle kiss to his chest.

“No… I’m gonna wait at least ’til after you go to work…Probably later afternoon..” You felt his lips on your hair.

“I’ll make ya breakfast.”

“Sonny..”You nearly let out a soft laugh, you knew this was hard for both of you, but considering how the op began originally, you weren’t surprised he was being overly affectionate. You settled for an easy response, “I love you..”

“I love you too…”

The calm quietness and relaxed breaths took over the room as the two of you fell into an easy sleep, blissed out and muddled in each others bodies, thankful for the time you had.

#law and order #law and order svu #law and order special victims unit #Olivia benson #odafin tutuola #amanda rollins #sonny carisi #dominick sonny carisi #ada carisi #ada sonny carisi #ada dominick carisi #sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi smut #sonny carisi series #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi one shot #sonny carisi drabble #sonny carisi fanfcition

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azozzoni · 4 years

Text

My last contribution to our elippo party! This one is for all the Italians: I hope you’re okay and you’re making the most of being at home. Stay healthy! - Beware, there is smut ahead.

“How long do you think we’ll have to stay here?” Elia asked from where he lay, head hanging off the end of Filippo’s bed, barely suppressing his yawn as the felt the mattress bounce underneath him and Filippo crawled up beside him.

“Bored of my company already?”

Rolling his eyes, Elia smiled at Filippo, scooting back so his head wasn’t hanging off the end. “Just wondering how long the country is going to be in quarantine.”

He supposed he was lucky Filippo hadn’t said no to the idea of Elia joining him during the quarantine, or more lucky that Eleonora hadn’t nixed the idea. He doubted Filippo would have said no either way.

“Try to think of it as an extended vacation,” Filippo said easily, brushing Elia’s hair over his ear. It was messy, curling around his ear, falling over his forehead, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d brushed it. “I am.”

Sighing, Elia pushed himself up, rolling on top of Filippo instead. Filippo merely watched him do it, tugging at his lip ring as though curious where Elia was going with this.

“You know what most people do on vacation,” Elia said, letting his gaze fall down Filippo’s chest, the v-neck tee shirt that was entirely too low-cut for a guy, frayed at the hem as Elia slid his hand to Filippo’s waist. It had been three days already of staying home, not going out, spending most of their time watching movies or watching Filippo work on his projects for class that Elia couldn’t help him with. Elia had studying to do, but he certainly didn’t plan to do it while the whole country was in the throws of chaos.

“Drink way too much, take cliche pictures, and complain about how much their feet hurt,” Filippo answered with a knowing smirk.

“Asshole,” Elia said, swatting at Filippo’s stomach, but he didn’t complain when Filippo’s hands pushed under the hem of his shirt, smooth fingers grazing up his sides, the bite of his nails at the back of his hips.

“Why don’t you tell me what they do,” Filippo said after a minute, licking his lips slowly, pushing his hips up just enough that Elia could feel his rising interest.

Light fell through the crack in the curtains, grey and diffused, a soft glow on Filippo’s face as he gazed up at Elia, a smile at the corner of his mouth, as though he liked teasing Elia like this.

“Well, usually it’s in an expensive hotel room instead of a room with clothes all over the floor,” Elia said, glancing around obviously. Not that he minded. Filippo’s room felt lived in--organized chaos, Filo called it whenever Eleonora complained. “With candles and rose petals and fancy lube.”

Filippo grinned, sliding his hands up Elia’s back a bit more, a shiver racing up Elia’s spine at his touch. “Do you need rose petals, Eli?”

Elia shrugged vaguely. They weren’t exactly the romantic couple, not like Marti and Nico, who were probably snuggled together on their couch right now, having a Wes Anderson marathon, planning out their future. Elia was more concerned with the present and how easily Filippo was pushing his shirt up, exposing his stomach to Filippo’s gaze.

“I’d rather have the lube,” he said honestly, leaning down to tug up Filippo’s shirt, pressing his mouth to the curve of Filippo’s hip.

“Keep going,” Filippo breathed as Elia pressed open-mouthed kisses to his skin, shoving his shirt up his chest. “What else do people do on vacation?”

Pausing, Elia’s eyes grazed up Filippo’s stomach, the owl tattoo on his side, the scar from where he had his appendix out many years ago.

“They take their shirts off,” Elia said finally, licking up Filippo’s hipbone, only moving back to let Filippo pull his shirt over his head and toss it away. Elia did the same with Filippo’s, meeting Filippo’s expectant gaze.

“That’s smart of them,” Filippo said, tugging Elia up so they were face to face, lips hovering centimeters from each other.

Swallowing, Elia nodded, heat spreading down his neck, over his shoulder blades, deep into his stomach as they lingered there.

It didn’t surprise Elia anymore, how much he liked this, Filippo’s grip tight on the back of his neck, the rough scrape of Filippo’s stubble on his cheek when he closed the distance to kiss him. It didn’t surprise him when Filippo bit down on his lower lip, almost painful, a slick slide of his tongue in Elia’s mouth, hot and heavy and far from romantic.

Fingers in Filippo’s hair, Elia shoved him down, pinned to the mattress, straddling his waist and kissing him hard. People probably did this on vacation, Elia thought as Filippo’s hands moved to his shoulder blades, fingernails digging into the skin. They probably did this in dirty hotel rooms and club bathrooms, and maybe even in those pristine hotels with pure white sheets and shampoo that smelled like coconuts.

“Do they keep their pants on?” Filippo asked as Elia pressed kisses down his neck, pausing to suck a mark on his collarbone just for good measure. No one but him and Eleonora would see anyway.

“We could try it that way,” Elia replied with a cheeky smirk up at Filippo.

“I’m not fifteen anymore,” Filippo pointed out, shifting underneath Elia, pressing their hips together, and Elia’s breath caught in his throat at the heat, Filippo’s dick hard against his.

“You’re not even wearing pants,” Elia said, but he reached for Filippo’s boxers anyway.

He didn’t tug them down yet, though, pausing as Filippo watched him, eyebrows raised expectantly.

“Do you need help?” Filippo teased, biting down on his lip ring as Elia took a breath and shook his head.

“Just thinking about the fastest way to make you come,” he said finally, pressing a hard kiss to Filippo’s chest. He felt Filippo’s groan, the way he arched into the touch.

Filippo’s fingers buried themselves in Elia’s hair, grip achingly tight, but Elia didn’t let himself get distracted. This was how he liked it, with Filippo underneath him, pliant to his every move, spreading his legs for Elia to settle between them, slide his tongue down his abs, suck a mark into his hip bone as Filippo breathed out slowly above him.

They’d been stuck in the apartment for days already, and no matter how many times they did this, it still felt so good. It was heat and pressure and slick tongues, bruising fingers, panted breath in the dim light, Filippo kissing Elia until Elia’s lips were sore, his fingers slick inside him, making him come just from that.

Filippo was hard when Elia finally slid his boxers down his thighs, taking his time admiring the view, fingers gliding up the hard length, not taking too long before following his fingers with his tongue.

He could draw it out, Elia thought as he took Filippo in his mouth, moved slowly as Filippo sighed above him. He could take his time sucking him off, use every trick he knew until Filippo was straining to come, body hot and aching. Elia wasn’t sure he could wait that long, though, wait that long to get Filippo’s hands on him in return, Filippo’s tongue sliding in his ear in that way that always made Elia’s knees go weak.

“Eli,” Filippo breathed as Elia mouthed over the ridges on his cock, licked up the length and took the tip in his mouth.

Filippo’s hands tightened in his hair, a sharp tug that made Elia gasp. He could feel the blood rushing to his prick, hot and throbbing as he pushed Filippo’s legs open, smoothing his hands up the backs of his thighs. He knew Filippo liked it from the way he groaned, pushed his hips up.

Mouth slick, Elia moved in deeper, trying not to choke as he took Filippo in as far as he could.

“Fuck,” he heard Filippo say, and he had to pull back, sucking in a breath, taking his time licking over Filippo’s cock, hard and hot against his lips, feeling the pulse of blood.

He was close, Elia could tell. He could tell from the way Filippo’s breath came shorter, his fingers twining in Elia’s hair, yanking as his hips jerked. It was too hot, blood flooding Elia’s cock, a pulse deep in his stomach as he brought Filippo off, lavishing attention on his prick, sucking until Filippo cursed and jerked his head back.

“Fuck, Eli, wait,” Filippo said, holding Elia at arm’s length, squeezing his eyes shut.

“What?” Frowning, Elia wiped his mouth, watching Filippo, confused.

Filippo smirked after a second, though, hauling Elia up before rolling him over. “How about that fancy lube?”

Elia wasn’t sure what Filippo was talking about, tilting his head to the side as Filippo left him lying at the end of the bed, cock annoyingly hard still, and he pushed at it for a second, wishing Filippo would just come back.

He did come back, twirling a black tube that Elia had never seen before.

“What’s that?” he asked as Filippo pulled down Elia’s pants, leaving them on the floor with the rest of his clothes.

“It’s not exactly rose petals,” Filippo said, rolling on a condom as Elia watched.

Swallowing, Elia wasn’t sure he cared what it was as Filippo flipped the lid and coated his fingers. At the first push, Elia couldn’t help his curse, eyes shooting open at the warm tingling sensation deep inside his body.

“Holy fuck,” he said, gasping as he lifted his hips for Filippo’s fingers. “Where have you been hiding that?”

“Not hiding,” Filippo said, smoothing Elia’s legs back, scooting in against him, and Elia bit his lip at the first press of his cock. “Waiting.”

“For what?” Elia asked, out of breath as Filippo slid inside, so hard, so full. Everything tingled, sharp and tight, so good as they moved together.

“A worldwide pandemic,” Filippo joked, biting his lip as he pushed in, bodies rocking together, a slow fuck that made the world slow down as Elia shut his eyes, focusing on the slide of Filippo inside him, his hands on Filippo’s thighs, fingers digging into the flesh.

“Fuck,” Elia breathed again, and for a second, he forgot. He forgot that they were stuck in the house, that they shouldn’t leave, what was going on outside. The only thing that mattered was Filippo fucking him until he came so hard he couldn’t think straight.

“I bet people do this on vacation,” Filippo said, leaning in, Elia’s legs wrapped around his back, a sloppy kiss pressed to Elia’s chin, another to his cheek until Elia moved, capturing his mouth for a hot, slick kiss, moan muffled against Filippo’s lips.

“Yeah,” Elia agreed, breathless, panting as he held Filippo close, their skin sweaty and warm, a blush on Filippo’s collarbone, pink and splotchy as Elia dragged him into another kiss as a ripple of heat clenched in his stomach.

He was going to come. He wasn’t going to last, not with the pressure of Filippo’s cock inside him, the unbearably hot tingling of the lube, blood throbbing in his dick. Biting at Filippo’s jaw, Elia took a sharp breath, fingers wrapped around Filippo’s neck, tight, bruising his skin as he came, hot and sticky on Filippo’s stomach.

“Elia,” Filippo breathed, hips pushing inside him, a bit less finessed, rougher now, a desperation Elia wasn’t used to.

He kept Filippo close, peppering kisses down his neck until Filippo came, hips stiffening, face sinking into Elia’s shoulder as he breathed, shaky.

Sighing, Elia sunk into the mattress, Filippo still on top of him, hair damp with sweat, and he let his fingers rake through Filippo’s.

It wasn’t so bad, being stuck at home, especially when Filippo rolled off him with a sigh but kept his hand on Elia’s stomach, tracing absent shapes on his skin.

“Maybe when this is over, we should go somewhere,” Filippo said thoughtfully, and Elia glanced over, surprised.

“Like a vacation?”

They’d never talked about that, about going away together. This quarantine was the most time they’d spent together consecutively ever, and Elia was honestly surprised they were doing so well with it. He’d kind of expected Filippo to get annoyed with him after day two.

“Yeah,” Filippo said with an amused smile at the surprise in Elia’s voice. “Have you ever been to Paris?”

“No.” Elia shrugged.

“Great pastries, good clubs, and lots of rose petals.” Filippo grinned at him as Elia laughed, shoving his shoulder.

“Then I guess we have to go.”

“Yep,” was all Filippo said with a sigh, and Elia grinned as he lay back. Maybe they’d go to Paris once this was over, but for now, Elia was content to stay right here on their own little island.

#skam italia #elippo #skamit fic #skamit #my fic #elippo party

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hope-for-the-best-98 · 5 years

Text

Stay

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: You and Steve finally have a chance to reunite after he’s been on the run for nearly a year.

Word count: 3.3k (yikes didn’t intend for it to be this long)

Warnings: Here lies smut with bearded Steve. That’s all we need before End Game tbh. Also this has been proofread quickly so apologies if there’s mistakes!

It doesn’t feel real to you.

You’re use to feeling on edge all the time since Steve went on the run after the accords. But as you glance over at him in the driver's seat you feel the tension start to fade away. With passing lights shining into the car, you could make out most of his face under his cap.Despite the late hour, his eyes were alert and clear. He’s relaxed, practically lounging in his seat. His right arm resting by the window.

You hadn’t seen him in months. You tried to keep in contact as much as you could, but there was only so many burner phones he could send you. It was risky enough doing phone calls, but now here you were, sitting in the car with him. Finally reunited.

When the car came to a stop at a red light he glances over at you, and turns his head fully when he saw that you were staring. An adoring smile crosses his face, something that you had missed. He drops his hand from the steering wheel and places it over yours, squeezing it gently as you gaze at each other. You lift his hand and kiss his knuckles gently.

You both feel at peace and it is a welcoming feeling.

There’s a strange sensation in your gut as you look at each other. It’s moments like this that make you realise how much you miss having him around you, and how much you love him.

A loud honk from a car behind jolts you both back to reality, and you hear a loud sigh from Steve as he reluctantly pulls his hand away. You squeeze his thigh teasingly, settling back in your seat as you listen to a news broadcast on the radio.

Steve makes a right turn at the next light and pulls into a carpark for a place called Motel 6. It’s quiet, secluded, and it was what you both need.

As Steve parks up in an empty spot by reception you lean over and kiss his cheek. “This place looks very classy.” You tease.

He looks at you sheepishly. “I can try and find another motel-”

“No.” You smile, cupping his cheek. “As long as you’re with me I don’t care where we are.”

“I’ll uh… Go and get a room.” He whispers, licking his lips as he climbs out of the car.

You smile gently, watching him for a moment before glancing at your bag in the backseat. You reach for it, inhaling slowly as you unzip it and touch the red lingerie laying on top. You had bought it when you found out you were going to finally see Steve in the flesh. It was lacey, one of the most revealing things you would ever wear. You didn’t know how Steve would react to it, but since the beginning of your relationship you never really had the chance to try out new things.

You close up the bag quickly when the passenger door opens. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” You smile, stepping out of the car and kissing him quickly. “You get a room okay?”

“Uh… Yeah. Room 112. Honeymoon suite. Apparently the bath has jets so I couldn’t refuse.” He blushes bright red and you can’t help but grin at him.

“I’m impressed, Rogers. You’ve really outdone yourself.”

“You’re hilarious.” He smiles, raising his eyebrows as he grabs the bags and locks the car.

“Lead the way.” You smile, following him up the stairs and along the walkway.

“Room 110… 111… Here we go, room 112.” He drops the bags and tries to turn the key in the lock. “Uh… Give me a second.”

He gives it a sharp shove, stumbling into the room slightly as the door swung open. “Smooth.” He mumbles to himself, reaching for the light switch by the door.

The light flickers to life and you both take in the room. The bed is up against the right wall and there is a TV pressed up on the opposite side. There’s a basic kitchen area on the other side of the room and beside it is the door that leads to the bathroom.

“Not too bad.” He notes as he picks up the bags and closes the door behind you both.

“No, it’s nice.” You agree, sitting down on the bed. “You’ve probably slept in worse lately.”

“Don’t remind me.” He mutters, dumping the bags at the bottom of the bed. You reach up and cup his face in your hands gently, watching as he relaxes into your touch.

“Why don’t you go and freshen up? You suggest. “Take advantage of those jets.”

He chuckles quietly, leaning down and pressing his forehead against yours. “I can’t promise I won’t be in there all night.”

“You better not.” You press your lips against his gently. “I have some plans for us tonight.”

He hums against your lips and you feel his arms wrap around you. “I’ve missed you so much, doll…”

“I’ve missed you too. Now go before you change your mind.”

You push him away gently and he groans. “Tease.”

You laugh, waiting for him shut the bathroom door before grabbing your bag. You dig out the lingerie and hold it in your hand. “Right. Okay. You’ve got this.”

You undress quickly and hold the lingerie up, staring at it for a few moments. “Now I just need to get into it. Can’t be too hard…”

You try putting it on like a swimsuit, wriggling in it until the straps got stuck around your shoulders. Another two attempts of twisting, squirming, and a loud grunt you thought Steve must have heard, and you were finally in the lingerie.

You hear the water turn off and you freeze in your spot. You hadn’t thought about how to actually present yourself. Laid out on the bed? On your side? Waiting by the door awkwardly for him. In the end you sit at the end of the bed, one leg crossed over the other, trying to look as casual as possible.

Then the door opens and Steve walks out in a towel, his chest bare and wet. You both stare at each other, mouth agape.

“Uh… Hi.” He says quietly, staring at you.

“Hi.” You squeak, staring more at his chest than his face. “I didn’t think I would be this flustered.”

“You uh… Lingerie?”

You look down at yourself awkwardly. “Do you like it?”

“Um… yeah. You look…” He trails off, stepping closer to you.

“I mea-I can-should I just take it off?” You stutter, standing up.

“Well… That’s the point of it, right?”

You look up at him, biting your lip as he walks towards you. This was it. After months of being apart you were finally together again.

You inhale slowly as he cups your cheek, his thumb tracing your bottom lip gently. “I don’t know when we can do this again.” He says quietly, and you see the hurt in his eyes.

“Then let’s not waste time.” You whisper, wrapping your arms around his neck and crashing your lips against his. He groans loudly as his hands reach down and grip your ass hard.

You gasp quietly, grinning as you press yourself up against him more. “Stevie…”

“I’ve missed you.” He breathes as the towel fell from his hips. “I’ve missed this…”

Your eyes wander down his chest, passed his v-line, and you bite down on your lip hard as a moan escapes your lips. He’s hard, and it makes you wonder what he was thinking about in the shower.

One of his hands reaches up and grabs onto your hair, pulling hard. You groan, your eyes slipping closed when you feel his mouth trailing kisses down your neck. He kisses your sweet spot and you already feel like you’re going to explode by his touch. “Steve, please…”

“I’ve got you.” He whispers, pulling down one of the straps on your lingerie. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod breathlessly, tugging on his hair as you press your cheek against his. His beard feels rough against your skin, and you moan when you think about how it will feel between your legs.

You feel his hands reach behind and he tries to undo the clasp in the back. After a few more attempts he groans loudly. “Why won’t it come off.”

You laugh breathlessly, reaching back and swatting his hand away as you undo it quickly. “Have you lost your touch, Rogers?”

“I hope not.” He murmurs, and he smiles at you. The type of smile that makes the little creases by his eyes. You stare at each other, and for a moment the room is in complete silence. You reach up and cup his cheek and leans into your touch. “I’ve missed you so much.”

“I’ve missed you too.” You whisper tearfully. “God, I’ve missed you.”

He closes his eyes and cups the back of your head, pulling you closer. You press your forehead against his chest and breathe in his scent. Moments like this make you realise how much you’ve missed him. You kiss over his heart gently and look up at him.

“Promise me one day this is gonna be all over. You won’t be on the run anymore and you’re just gonna turn up at my apartment unannounced. That… You’ll take me dancing again, and we’re slow dance until our feet hurt.”

“I…” He sighs, and strokes your hair back. “I wish I could promise that.”

“Steve please.” You say desperately. “You don’t deserve this.”

“I don’t deserve you.” He corrects, shaking his head. “All this shit I’ve put you through-”

“Don’t.” You say sternly, shaking your head. “I hate it when you talk like that.”

Steve sighs quietly and presses his lips to your forehead. “I didn’t want tonight to go like this. I didn’t want to make you upset.”

“No it’s my fault. I brought it up.” You mumble. “I just find it hard when you’re not around. Tony hardly talks to me. I have Ross breathing down my neck 24/7.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s just a part of the job I guess. I just want you to know that whatever happens… I’m with you. Always will be.”

The corners of his mouth curl into a small smile and he cups your face in his hands. “I love you.”

You grin at him, and you can’t help the tears building in your eyes. “I love you too.”

He leans down-almost teasingly slow and presses his lips against yours. You grab his shoulders tightly and you moan when his tongue slips into your mouth. You feel like you’re on fire when his hands start to peel off the lingerie. He takes his time as he pulls it down your chest and he starts to leave a trail of wet kisses down your neck.

He walks you towards the bed and you sit when the back of your legs hit the end. He touches your shoulder to lay you down but you grab his hand, pushing it back.

“Hold on baby.” You purr, kneeling on the floor and leaning forward to kiss from his chest down to his stomach. You feel his muscles jump under your touch and you smirk.

“You okay up there?”

He nods, looking down at you as he cups the back of your head. You run your hands up his thighs before grasping his cock gently. It feels hot and heavy in your hands and you lick your lips slowly.

“Forgot how big you are, baby.”

He lets out an almost animalistic growl from his throat. You know he just wants to push you down and fuck you into the mattress until you’re screaming, but after being away from each other for so long he’s letting you take your time.

“Please, y/n.” He begs, tugging on your hair gently. “It’s been a while since I…”

“Oh really?” You grin, beginning to stroke him slowly. “It won’t take you long then?”

He huffs, tugging on your hair harder. “Don’t tease.”

You finally lean forward and circle your tongue around the tip slowly, staring up at him. You moan quietly when you see him looking down at you,his eyes remaining focused on you completely. He’s making a mental note of every swipe of your tongue, every kiss you place on his shaft. He can’t suppress a moan when your mouth finally engulfs him. He’s missed the feeling of your wet mouth around him, and how fucking beautiful you look on your knees.

He starts to move your head slowly, his fingers curling around your hair as you take him deeper. He feels on the edge already. It never takes long with you.

He pulls you away from him and you stare up at him, your lips glistening wet. “You okay baby?”

He suddenly pulls you to his feet, his arms wrapping around you as he kisses you deeply. It doesn't take long until your breathless, writhing against him when you feel his fingertips dancing across your sides. “You know that tickles.”

“Can’t help myself.” You feel his smirk against your neck. “I uh… I guess you brought protection?”

“Of course I did.” You push him away gently and reach for your bag. “What do you take me for?”

He sits down on the bed and he tilts his head as he eyes roam over your body. “Just making sure.”

You throw the pack at his chest and he chuckles when it lands in his lap. He works quickly, pulling one from the pack before throwing the rest on the bedside table. By the time he’s rolled on the condom you’ve already rid yourself of the lingerie and are standing in front of him, your hands pushing his hair back.

“Have I said how much I like the length yet?”

“You mentioned it a couple times in the car.”

“It suits you.” You smile gently when you tug at the ends. “And I can do that.”

He groans gently, chuckling as he wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer. You straddle his lap and run your hands down his chest slowly, feeling the curve of his muscles under your fingertips.

Before the accords, Steve use to take his time with you. You use to spend all day in bed together after missions, finding new ways to make each other feel good. But since being on the run everything became different. Steve never seems relaxed, and you never felt truly happy. You miss him, and knowing that tomorrow you would have to say goodbye again broke your heart.

“Hey.” Steve said softly, cupping your cheek. “You with me?”

You nod, giving him a thin smile. “Sorry, just… Thinking.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

You sigh, pressing your forehead against his. “It doesn’t matter. I just… I need you, Stevie.”

“I know baby…” He whispers. “Let me take care of you.”

He lays back on the bed, grabbing your sides gently as he pulls you with him. He kisses you gently, cupping the back of your head as you moan. “Baby…”

“It’s okay.” He soothes, trailing his hand down and grasping his cock. “You ready?”

You nod quickly, grabbing a hold of the bed sheet either side of his head. He enters you almost teasingly slow and he moans at the familiar feel of you around him. You both remain still for a moment before you move your hips.

“Fuck,” he breathes. “You’re so wet…”

“God, you feel so good.” You moan, sitting up and putting your hands on his chest. You feel his heart thumping under your hand and you grin. “You okay baby?”

“Yeah, you just…” He swallows past the lump in his throat. “Look really good.”

You bite your lip, moving your hips slowly as you grab his hand, putting it between your legs. “I haven’t cum in a really long time. Wanted to make this good…”

“So… You’re sensitive?” He rubs his thumb over your clit and you gasp, grabbing his wrist.

“Steve, fuck!”

He grins, running his other hand up your side. “Sorry.”

“Just go slow, okay?”

He nods, tentatively running his finger across your clit. You moan quietly, placing your hand over his. “That's it…”

You eventually start to move, moving your hand off of his and onto his chest. It only takes a few minutes before you’re a breathless mess above him, your nails digging into his chest.

Steve loves watching you. He loves the way you bite your lip when he hits the right spot inside of you. The way your back arches into his touch.

He knows you don’t realise how much you mean to him. How crazy you drive him when you’re not around. And how hopelessly in love he is with you. He didn’t realise how much being away from you would hurt. He feels a physical ache in his chest when he thinks about you. When he thinks about the lazy Sundays he use to spend with you, watching old movies and eating junk food.

He misses those days.

But being with you like this ignites something in him that only you bring out in him. He feels you everywhere, deep down in his soul, and it sometimes it terrifies him, being able to love somebody this much.

He suddenly rolls you onto your back and your hands grab his broad shoulders. You feel his muscles flex under your touch and it makes you realise how powerful he really is. His hand reaches up and grips the headboard as he pounds into you with unrelenting force.

You hold onto him tightly, pressing your face into his shoulder as he hits the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He doesn’t hold back, but it’s what you both need. The desperation of being together again makes it that much more intimate.

He knows you’re close, by the way you arch your back below him and your eyes are shut tight. He kisses you hard, swallowing your moans as he wraps your legs around him tighter.

Your eyes roll back when you reach your climax. It hits you hard and you scream his name as he keeps thrusting through your orgasm. He follows not long after and breathes heavily against your neck. He goes slack against you and you kiss his shoulder shakily.

“Steve, that was…” You trail off, smiling as he lifts his head to look at you.

“I know.” He kisses you gently. “I’ve missed that.”

He pulls out of you and stands up to dispose of the condom. You crawl under the covers and reach out for him when he comes back. He lies down, wrapping his arms around you and holds you tight. You listen to his heartbeat thump against your ear, and it feels like home.

“I don’t want you to go.” You mumble, drawing lazy patterns on his chest with your finger.

“I don’t wanna go either.” He sighs, playing with your hair.

“Why don’t I just… Go with you.”

“Y/n, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know. But-”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“I can handle dangerous.”

He sighs loudly, pushing you off him gently as he sits up and puts his feet on the floor “You’re not coming with me.”

“You know I can do this Steve.”

He shakes his head. “I’m not asking you to do this.”

You sit up and kiss his back gently. “You’re not asking me. I’m offering. Even though I enjoy meeting in secret and having you fuck me senseless, I miss being with you. I don’t care about the consequences, I don’t care about what I have to give up. You’re worth it.”

You move to sit next to him and he turns his head, the street light creeping through the curtain and illuminating the side of his face. He looks beautiful, and you can’t help but reach out and cup his cheek. “Take me with you.”

He turns his head and kisses your palm before pausing for a moment. “I need you to know how serious this is.”

You smile at him, leaning forward and kissing him gently. “I can handle anything you throw at me, Rogers.”

#Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #captain america #captain america x reader #Chris Evans #steve rogers fanfic #Steve Rogers smut #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #marvel #Steve Rogers angst #Steve Rogers x reader smut #Steve Rogers x reader angst

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zer0pm · 5 years

Text

Imagine taking care of V after a night of heavy drinking.

Based on one of the first asks I’ve received by anon:

If you’re reading this, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again for the request!

You: “I still can’t believe you fell for Dante’s plan.”

V: “He said just...one......drink...”

You: “It’s never just one drink with that guy!”

After the Devil May Cry crew reigned in another victory, growing closer and closer to their goal, the head of the demon hunting family Dante decided to treat everyone to some booze. Well, some turned out to be several caskets. Apparently the man had several hidden in random locations throughout the city and the team happened to be nearby one of the castes. V, who admits himself to be a light drinker, accepted one pint. Dante wouldn’t have any of that and kept on filling the tattooed man’s cup.

V tried to be responsible and refused of course, valuing self-control over lack of, but Dante was sneaky. His personal brew was particularly strong and as he watched V conversate with you, waiting for him to loosen up in your exchange, the man in red shoved the pint into V’s hands and helped him gulp it the alcohol down. Now V was a staggering mess and you had to pull him away from crew for the night, supporting him over your shoulder. Dante in his drunken stupor called after you with a pout.

Dante: “Wait! Where you going? The party is just getting started!”

You: “The man can’t see straight, Dante! I’m gonna tuck him in.”

Dante: “But he was going to recite some Flake!”

V: “Blake, you...uhh...imbecile.”

Amazing, drunk out of his mind and he can still recall his readings.

V: “I curse my stars in bitter gri-”

You: “No, don’t even start! We’re leaving.”

You practically had to drag the man away, hearing the boos from Dante and Nero, hearing a whistle from Nico, while Trish and Lady were too busy laughing apparently being the only two that actually held their liquor.

It was a short trek to the trailer, the vehicle sitting under the moonlight’s cast. There weren’t any demons around and the night was quiet. You would have liked to enjoy this peace if it wasn’t for the stumbling man struggling to stay standing beside you. Despite his slender frame, V was surprisingly heavy atop you. He can feel your strain in supporting him in his dull haze.

V: “You’re...not drunk?”

You: “After drinking with that crazy guy Dante for so long? Yeah, I’m a heavyweight.”

V: “I see. Am I heavy?”

You had to bite back your laugh at how adorable he sounded.

You: “A bit, but I got you, V. Don’t worry.”

V: “Not worried... Just...”

You feel him lean further into you, forcing you to adjust to keep him upright.

You: “H-Hey! You okay?”

V: “...Yes.”

He said that so quietly you almost couldn’t hear or believe him, but he must have realized how close he was to you and straightens his posture slightly, pulling the warm air of his breath away from the back of your neck. A warm air you that didn’t realize had left a tingly feeling upon your skin until it was gone, leaving the spot to cool. You shivered.

V: “I can walk...”

You: “Not gonna happen. Besides, we’re just about here.”

You were careful to make sure he did not stumble over or fall as he climbed into the trailer, you followed closely behind and led him to sit on the sofa right next to the door.

Grabbing his cane from his hand and setting it aside, you move to help him get comfortable, starting with undoing the buckles of his shoes. He tried to protest by bending over, but you swat his hands away and glare at him pointedly.

You: “Let me, V.”

He narrows his green eyes at you back despite the daze within them.

V: “I am not a child.”

You: “Not treating you like one, I just want to take care of you.”

V: “Why?”

You: “Because I want to. Is there any other reason?”

He tilts his head to the side, the way he does this made him look incredibly cute despite him being a grown man. A grown, often serious and aloof man. You took a moment to admire the way his long, dark hair sweeps across his forehead. Because he was angling his head in his attempt to keep a steady gaze on you, his hair also covered his eye, making the green in the other that can be seen stand out.

V: “Hn...”

V was apparently one of those drunks that likes to sway and you see his frame rocking slowly from side-to-side. You grabbed onto his shoulders to keep him steady.

You: “You okay?”

He peers at you beneath his dark lashes and the lump in your throat tightens at the sight of how charmingly handsome he was with that heavy-lidded look.

V: “...Sleepy.”

You: “O-Oh? Right.”

You return to his shoes, effectively slipping them off. You look up to see V fumbling around with the ties of his vest. Watching with humored interest at his lack of success and almost giggling when you hear him huff in frustration. You stand on your knees in between his legs, grabbing his hands gently and placing them down before moving your own to the laces of his clothing.

You: “Allow me.”

This time he did not protest, adhering to your command and offer. You can feel the weight of his eyes upon you with piqued interest and although you blamed it on his drunken gaze, the fact that he was staring at you so intently burned a growing blush upon your cheeks. You made sure to bow your head low so that he couldn’t see it despite it being relatively dark in the trailer. When it came undone, you let him take off the article of clothing by himself. He had a bit of a hard time at first but eventually V managed to take it off completely, leaving him in only his dark pants and the small accessories that hung around his wrist and neck.

His skin was illuminated under the pale light of the moon, accentuating the marks that flowed across it. He truly was a slender man, not muscular at all, but he had enough definition that made him look rather attractive. With the tattoos on his skin, the tones of his lean physique was only brought out more. To top this off with those heavy-lidded eyes, V looked downright seductive.

V: “You’re staring.”

You blushed.

You: “Sorry! I’ve just never seen you with your vest off before.”

V: “Hmm...”

He looks like he meant to say more but instead he is swaying again, leaning dangerously to the side and you were quick to help him slowly lie down. You felt him shake.

V: “Ahh!”

You retreat your hands once you were sure he was fine.

You: “Sorry, again! Are my hands cold?”

V: “No... You’re warm.”

Suddenly you feel his hand upon your wrist and with surprising strength you didn’t know he had, he pulls you atop him on the sofa. You held yourself up with the elbow of your free arm against the cushion and your knees on either side of his hips but it left you exposed to him and your face dangerously close to his. V must have read your thoughts as he lifts his head up slightly to caress your nose with his, his lips ghosting against yours. You gasp, feeling his knee softly rub against the junction between your legs.

You: “V-”

V: “I want you.”

At these words, you nearly felt yourself become undone. The desire to surrender yourself to his charms and abandon all inhibitions to be lost in each other’s pleasure. But then you remember, the heavy daze within his green eyes. He’s not all there. It took all of your willpower to pull away from him, to remove your wrist from his hand to push his knee back down. It nearly broke your heart at the sight of his frown, the dejected expression of pain evident. You shake your head at him.

You: “Not like this, V. Please.”

He seems to have regained himself slightly, remaining lucid enough to realize what he was doing. There was a flash of shame on his face before he sighs, restreating to lay back down on the sofa.

V: “Yes, yes... Forgive me. I am not entirely myself. Please, forget this.”

Wait. But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want him saying that he needed you and not mean it. It had to have come from somewhere. You didn’t want him to think that you were rejecting him. Almost desperately, you lie down, resting your body against his, your head stop his bare chest. His body tensed beneath you and you ran a hand across his smooth skin comfortably, tracing the patterns of his tattoos before lying your palm flat against where you felt his beating heart. Beneath your fingers, the thumping was fast.

You: “I want you too.”

There was a silence between you two, a tension that can be cut with a knife. You were growing nervous. Now that you admitted it out loud, was he going to reject you? The thought was dashed away when you realized that his heartbeat was slowing to a serene pace and you watched his hand reach up to weave his fingers with yours, keeping your hand in place.

V: “With you I feel...protected.”

That took you off guard. What an odd choice of words. It left a mix of questions in your head as well as strange emotions. Did V ever felt unsafe? He was an incredibly capable devil hunter in his own right and he handled powerful enemies with such a calm composure, you looked up to him as someone who was unafraid of anything. Yet he practically admitted to have been vulnerable. You wanted to ask when he felt like that. You weren’t sure to what end but it left you a strong urge to actually protect him. When you looked up to question him about this, you notice that he fell asleep. His eyes closed and his breathing shallow. He passed out...

With this, you smiled and made sure that he was comfortable as you both laid together on the sofa. Made sure that he knew you were there by giving his hand that was still woven with yours a reassuring squeeze, one in which he subconsciously returned. The two of you had each other wrapped in the other’s arms as you slept peacefully for the rest of the night.

#v devil may cry #v dmc5 #v x you #v x reader #devil may cry 5 #devil may cry #devil may cry imagine #v imagine #vitale #vitale x you #vitale x reader #ooooof #fluff #thanks anon for the request!#i meant to continue writing diverging jealousy #but this took my attention instead #dont worry working on it #but ahhhh v~#my writing

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