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fangirl-everythang · 3 years

Text

Mirrors C.T.H

Summary: Calum and Y/n's schedules haven't lined up in a while. When they finally do, Calum decides to try a reflective persuasion if you will.

Warnings: Daddy Kink, Swearing, Spit, Slapping( well maybe one), Just lots of smut.

Word Count: 2691

A/N: This was inspired by @ContentCalum on Instagram. 10/10 recommend for short blurbs. (ALSO posted on Wattpad)

Can't wait to see you, princess, xxx.

That was the last text I got from Calum after he told me he was coming home. Today was my day off so I spent the day doing some housework. The four of them really do a number when they're together. Recently our schedules haven't been matching and I rarely see him. Just brief periods between my early work schedule and his unpredictable night/ whenever the fuck Michael wakes up studio times haven't left us much time together.

While that's in the oven I can shower. Deciding against pajamas I just grab one of Calums shirts because it smells just like him. Usually, I wouldn't wear a bra but a bralette won't hurt. With the hot steam rolling down the sides of the shower, I let the water hit my sore muscles. Work has been overly stressful. Between this new launch and creating a new marketing scheme, you would think we were planning the Met Gala. Putting those thoughts work thoughts aside, lathering and scrubbing every area of my body that has seen this house today. Afterward gotta lotion up because ashyness is not an option, sliding on the matching lace panties and Calums shirt that comes down to my mid-thigh.

Going back downstairs to turn the oven off I get started on the sides. Cauliflower mac and cheese isn't as bad as it seems, hopefully. "Duke do you think your daddy will notice?" He looks at me with those cute eyes, not a care in the world, guess not. The sound of the door opening has Duke happily barking and running away from me. Following not too far behind our fury son I see Calum kneel next to Duke.

"Hey Bud, did you miss me?" he asks playfully petting the sweet creature. He cuddles into Calum further when he looks up at me, "Hi princess."

"You know I think it's unfair when you ask Duke does he miss you when I'm standing right here." I grin. He stands up grabbing my waist "Well I know you missed me love." he smiles.

"Did I? You're kind of annoying." He gasps playfully holding his heart. Leaning my head back I reach up to kiss him. He takes his time bringing his lips to mine so I put my hands on his cheek and bring him closer. His soft lips against mine send me into a frenzy. God, I've missed him like crazy. Parting all too soon he leans his forehead on mine. "I love you." he rasps.

"I love you too bub." I grin going back into the kitchen. "Did you want to eat first or?" I ask looking at him questioningly.

"It's 4 pm Y/n." he chuckles. Well, we can eat later then, he concludes.

"Well, it's our first time together in forever, what now?" He has a smirk on his face and reaches for my wrist. "What is it Cal?" he walks away and up the stairs leaving me to follow him. I should turn the oven off. Glancing over to Duke he's in his little bed laying down. Being so cute I had to take a picture...or three. Taking my time up the stairs to admire the pictures of the cute doggo, "Cal look at these pictures of Du-What are you doing?" He continues to play with the reflective furniture.

"Do you know how good you look in the mirror? I couldn't stop thinking about all the dirty pictures you sent me," He stares at me through the mirror. "You're lucky I wasn't here babygirl." My cheeks flush as he pushes me closer to see our reflections dancing in the mirror with a tight hold on my hips.

"You're my distraction," he whispers as he slowly begins sucking underneath my ear, leaving kisses down my neck. My heart rate increases as his tongue touches a sensitive spot, shivers running down my spine. "As much as I want to tell you how beautiful you are, well you've been a bad girl hmm?" His hand lightly trails across my neck, his eye contact never leaving as he snakes his other hand towards my front over my clothed womanhood. "Answer me." His grip becoming more firm on my neck.

"Yes daddy." he hums in approval as he lifts his shirt above his head exposing his tan torso. "Look at how sexy you are baby." but he didn't seem satisfied when my eyes stay glued to the ground. He could have any girl he wanted and yet he chose me. I'm not skinny whatsoever. I have more tits than ass and rolls for days. The stretchmarks that litter my body don't bother me but most aspects of everything else does. His hand reaches for my hair in a tight fist forcing me to look up at our reflection, my core aching at the sudden pull. "I'm speaking to you." he says very sternly, "I guess I'll just have to make you listen."

Stripping himself of his pants and sitting on the edge of the bed right in front of the mirror he opens his legs and pats me over. "Sit." I obey him, anticipation building in my core. His hands roam my body freely lingering wherever they please. He begins attacking my neck slowly dragging his finger across my thigh "Look at you, acting like a good girl hmm?" he moves the cotton fabric up to my waist giving him a view of my panties from the mirror "'gonna be good for daddy?"

I nod silently, he shakes his head in a disapproving manner. "Use your words Love."

"I'll be good for you daddy." he hums in approval, spreading my legs apart. He traces his finger along the outskirts of my panties, my hips thrusting lightly "excited now are we?" he smirks looking at the wet spot through the mirror. Calum slides the thin material to the side, lightly grazing my clit. My eyes momentarily closing at the brief touch before his other calloused hand reaches up, grabbing my jaw, forcing me to to look up. "You're going to watch as I tease your cunt. You're going to cum on my fingers, then you'll watch as I devour your pussy. Close your eyes even once and I'll force another out of you. Got it?" He has a fire blazing behind his golden-brown orbs.

"Yes sir." nodding along as his fingers begin tapping on my clit. "Good girl," he whispers before dipping his middle finger into my sex, the digit easily slipping in. "Nuh that way." he reminds me once more to look up into the mirror. The glass allowing me to see everything at once, the way he looks at me hungrily, his slender finger shining with my arousal. I can see his other hand going to reach for my breast before I feel it, the mere fact causing a moan to leave my lips.

"Awwwe you like watching yourself being played with huh?" he maintains eye contact with me through the mirror, as he adds another finger into my throbbing hole. His length pressing into my back, hardening with every sound from my mouth. "Rub your clit y/n."

My hand following his orders adding more sensation to my building orgasm. The scene before me so pleasingly intimate and erotic. "Cal I'm goin-" My back arching into him as my orgasm takes complete control of my body, his eyes on me every step of the way.

He brings his fingers to my lips, allowing me to taste myself, whimpering himself when I take his fingers into my mouth, sucking them as if they were his member. I release them, clean, turning to face him. "I thought I told you-" I lean forward straddling his waist, kissing him roughly. "I know but I want to please you too Cal." Before he can respond I gently slip off the bed, face to groin. I pull down his boxers just enough to release his straining cock, gently stroking it in my palm. "Let me take care of you," I smile at him, pressing a kiss to the side of his shaft "Please daddy." He groans, swiping his thumb over my lip and nodding. We've been apart far too long, aching to taste him once more.

I lick his shaft, tasting his pre-cum on my tongue, he lets out a sigh of relief, embedding his hand through my hair. "Mhmmm just like that princess." He moans as I take most of him in my mouth, cupping his balls and pressing my forefinger lightly on the skin between the two. The feeling of him in my mouth forces my mind to wonder about him being inside of me, stretching me in the best of ways, a moan finds its way out from my throat around Calum causing his hips to thrust more. I clench my thighs together to provide some friction for my thoughts, I reach my hand between my legs relieving myself from all the arousal. "Get up." he demands, seeming almost angry. Not wanting to question him I rise confused by the sudden change of tone, knowing better than to say anything.

He removes any fabric left covering my body aggressively, not saying a word. Pushing me back till my knees cave against the bed causing me to fall back onto our shared mattress. He places himself between my legs, rubbing his length along my core painfully slow. "Please, I need you Cal." He continues gazing at me through his lust filled orbs, desire seeping from his pores. He pushes his tip in and then taking it out, the feeling gone as soon as it had appeared. A whine erupted from my lips, he chuckled to himself. "Remind me again y/n," he states in a hushed tone, "Are you to touch yourself without my permission?" He looks at me, his finger dancing over my sensitive nub but neglecting it furthermore. Accepting my silence for an answer, "And yet you did." His head dips down encapsulating my nipple in his mouth, a breathy moan leaving my lips as his hands roam my body freely. My hips thrusting trying to create some- any friction. "Cal I won't do it ever again, just please- please fuck me daddy. " A stinging on my cheek causing a gasp to leave my lips, surprised by this side of Calum. Still shocked, he places his hand firmly on my cheek pushing my face into the mattress. The only thing in view is the mirror with his gorgeously tanned tattooed body on top of mine, hand still placed on my face. He leans in dangerously close, moving a strand of hair aside slowly, his fingertip leaving the slightest touch before putting his hand back with the same pressure as before, "Now watch sweetheart." he darkly whispers.

Before I could question it his entire length thrust in me at once, a broken moan escaping me. With the side view, I can see him pounding into me, each thrust harder than the last. "Fuck- so wet hmmm, such a good whore." he moans, I nod under his hand clenching walls around him, tilting my pelvis to meet his. He removes his hand from my face to apply pressure to my clit, hitting a particularly blissful combination. "Fuck Cal right there!" I scream as the bedrocks underneath our sweaty bodies. He slows his movements savoring the view before him, his good girl-now fucking onto him, desperate for release. Her hair frizzy, eyes fluttering from excessive pleasure, he never wanted it to end. "I love you y/n."

"I love you too Calum." I reach up grabbing his neck to pull him back to me, our lips meeting once more passionately while he thrust into me again. He presses my body closer to his as my legs wrap around him for dear life, my hands holding onto his as if he'd disappear. "Can I cum please?" He grunts, nodding his head in approval of my very much needed release. Unable to focus on anything but the eruption of pleasure from my core, repeating a slur of Calums name over and over again like it is the only thing I've ever known. His release following shortly after, the warmth of his seed filling me. His panting is my focal point upon return, watching as each breath falls from his swollen plump lips. I giggle moving some of his sweat-coated hair from his face, "Welcome home Mr.Hood." He smiles laughing at my gesture, "Quite the welcome it is Miss Y/L/N" He pulls my face forward once more placing a soft kiss to my lips, which is happily returned before he pulls me to the edge of the bed, still seemingly connected, placing me dead center in front of the mirror once more. Looking at him with a curious glance, he notions to the mirror as I watch his every move. He pulls his softening member from my core, a gasp leaving my lips due to the newfound vacancy.

His eyes never leaving mine as the smirk on his face grows, kneeling between my thighs. I lean up on my forearms to see both him and the reflection better, the handsome bassist looping his arms around my legs, keeping me in place. "Look how pretty baby." He says watching our fluids drip out of me, his tone of admiration never wavering. My hips jut back as he strokes over my clit, still hyper-sensitive from the orgasm just moments before. As I retract my pussy away from his devilish grin he rumbles a low growl, attaching his lips to my center, his wide hands gripping my hips with brisk strength-leaving prints in their path. His tongue lapping my hole over and over again. He replaces his mouth with his fingers, the scissoring motion driving me on edge once more. He leans over me, tapping on my lips to which I comply with his wishes, opening my mouth. He smiles before releasing the cum-mixed spit down my throat, swallowing our combined fluids moaning as he returns his mouth to my pussy. My wetness glistening all over his face as he continues to but himself in me. Seeing his back muscles contract in the mirror each time he moves, watching him devour me in the most sinful of ways. I can see it all, moans leaving my lips between my pleas for him to stop his assault but nonetheless, he persists until my legs are a quivering mess around his head. My bare breast rising with every sharp inhale, my back arching further into him, hoping to get away but he keeps me planted there in front of him.

"I need to- Cal can I-I- fuck please" The words barely able to leave my lips, he stares at me nodding but never removing himself from my core. My orgasm ripples through me, forcing my body to compromise, stiffening as I release on Calum's tongue. My hips riding his tongue exactly where I need him as my fingers grip at his hair, hearing him moan at the feeling sending an aftershock of vibrations through my center. An unholy slurping noise from Calum is the last thing to be heard as he joins me again on the bed, pulling me into him. His lips providing every emotion needed. "I missed you."

I laugh at his cute post-sex neediness, "I missed you too Cal." He pats my head, letting his hands rake through the mess of hair on top of my head as I trace over his feather tattoo. "Did I ever tell you how good you taste?" he murmurs, shrugging lightly to himself, "Fucking delicious." His hands lingering the curves of my body before he places two fingers on my clit. "No, no, no not again." I chuckle pushing him away as my body shudders from the sensation.

"Hmmm I suppose we'll have more time today." he rasps. "Indeed we will." I smile placing a kiss on his cheek. Let's just say the night was more than eventful, happy to be in each other presence again.

A/N:

WOW long time no see! I can't wait to get back into the flow of writing and now that the semester is over I have more time lol.

I hope you're all hanging in there alright!

xoxo-Janelle

#5sos smut #5sos x reader #calum 5sos #calum hood smut #calum x reader #calum hood #calum imagine #Blurb #Smut #cth #5 seconds of smut #5 seconds of summer #luke hemmings #ashton irwin #michael clifford #reader insert #y/n #x reader #fanfic

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heshoes · 3 years

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She was his best friend and they shared everything together already anyway. What difference would it make if it were a hat, shampoo, or the same bed sometimes? So what? That's what the Uni Daze were about, having fun, traditions, getting serious, new relationships, friendships, heart ache, break-ups, make ups, secrets, the occasional/casual bajingo here and there, and possibly, just maybe, finding the love of your life and hoping that it all works out.

Warnings: smut, slow burn, angst, mentions of abortion, mentions of verbal abuse

Harry Styles x OC (Face claim Zendaya)

Uni Daze Masterlist

Chapter 1 (Word Count 4k)

Harry

Water droplets cascaded down my neck before I grabbed a towel to throw over my head. That shower was definitely needed. My muscles would be sore from my workout this morning, but I enjoy the ache. As I headed towards my room to put on clothes I noticed that my roommates door was still closed and for Michelle this can only mean one thing.

I pulled up my trousers and pulled my t-shirt over my head before layering it with a plaid button up. If she doesn't wake up soon, I'll be forced to take measures into my own hands. I walked halfway down the hall and then stopped to pick up the beanie that I let Michelle borrow last night. The hat was carelessly tossed on the floor along with a t-shirt of hers and a pink-ish orange lace bra. This was just one of the many downsides of living with a woman. Even if she is your best mate, finding the occasional bras and panties mixed into your clothes on laundry day can put a damper on your chances of trying and talk to a girl if you don’t have a washer and drier in house, and lets not even mention those four to five days out of the month when a tampon box is left on the bathroom sink and you have to explain that to a date. Not thinking, I picked all of the items up before I dropped the shirt and bra on the ground, feeling somewhat awkward touching something that was so close in contact with Michelle's...intimate bits.

"Michelle?!" No answer…

"Mitchell?! Wake up you're gonna be late for our first class!”

I laughed to myself at her lack of response before I sauntered back down the hall to my room grabbing the Ultimate Alarm; a fog horn that Michelle, the lads, and I nabbed from a school footie game. We each have one and have all have organized to use it with each other when the drink has made us more sluggish than functional.

Not much has changed since the first day I met Michelle. She's the only one here that I've met who seems to have stayed the same throughout all the three years of university that I've known her....That can be looked at as both a good and a bad thing.

Shaking the foghorn with devilish delight and biting my cheeks so that I wouldn't blow my cover, my feet stopped in front of her door once again. I cracked the entrance slightly sticking my arm in the room and turning my head away to shield my ears as much as possible from the noise. As soon as I pressed the button to sound it off, I heard a loud thudding sound followed by cursing. If she wasn't up before, she's up now.

"WHAT THE FUCK, HAZLAND?!”

I ran back to my room to put the horn down and grab my bag. This is the first year that I haven't strained my back to pick it up. Fouth year with a lighter load but more studying than I did in all the other three years combined seems pretty backwards to me, but I won't complain.

"What time is it?”

"Half- Oh-“

Michelle emerged from her room looking worse for wear. Her hair was in a nest atop her head and she only wore a long sleeved burgundy t-shirt and a black pair of boy short knickers on her lithe, lanky frame. I swallowed deeply and turned my head away not expecting her to be so scantily clad. The colors contrasted with her warm honey/caramel skin tone and it was only then that I took in how much of her skin was actually showing. I've seen her naked before but it was an accident and brief. Very brief. I only saw her outlines really, nothing of real importance... not that I was trying to look or anything.

"Half past eight. Go put on trousers! I don't want to see your bajingo!”

Michelle primped her dry lips at me prior to moistening them with a swipe of her tongue, making sure to flip her middle finger up in my direction before she disappeared back into her room.

"Everyone wants to see my bajingo Harry and that's plenty of time for me to get ready. You didn't have to use the Ultimate Alarm. It's not like I was in a drug induced coma!”

"I called you twice but you didn't answer. I thought that-“

I trailed off my words as a gorgeous blonde walked out of Michelle's room. Her hair was tussled and she was scrambling to adjust her skirt as Michelle looked at me with a tightlipped grin, feeling out the room.Michelle walked her secret house guest to the door and gave her a lingering kiss that caused the girl to stand on tip toe before awkwardly waving a goodbye to her and shutting the door. I was left stunned.

"Pick your jaw up off the floor Styles!”

"That- that was a girl.”

“Yes."

"She was your friend?”

“No."

Michelle walked into the kitchen grabbing an orange juice carton out of the refrigerator. She took a sip straight from the jug causing me to grimace before she rolled her eyes at me and grabbed a red solo cup. I was only momentarily distracted before I continued on my previous trail of thought.

"But, you were...and she…"

"Yes Harry, spit it out come on. You're almost there. I know it. I can feel it”

"She was putting her clothes back on.”

Michelle nodded her head in agreement as she continued to guzzle the rest of our citrusy, pulp free juice. After she finished it, she tossed the empty plastic to me and then walked out of the kitchen. I was right by the bin but set the cup on the countertop as my brain continued to navigate through what I think I want to ask.

"You didn't have on many clothes…"

"No, Harry. Neither of us did last night.”

Michelle folded her arms while squinting at me. The hint she's dropped allows what comes out of my mouth next to be uninhibited and honestly sound a bit too over zealous about the idea.

"You had sex with her?”

Michelle nodded her head up and down grinning slightly. Almost a smug look on her face I would say. She hadn't been in a relationship in a while. The last one I remember was when she was with my best mate Louis. It's how I met her as a matter of fact. Michelle and Louis are virtually the same person. It's freaky sometimes. She could be a reincarnate of him as a girl. They were inseparable, but when it ended it ended badly. I'm still not clear on the reason why. Neither of them will talk about it, but I managed to stay neutral in the whole situation and still be able to carry on a friendship with both of them. I'm still good friends with Lou, but he doesn't come around as much since I moved in with Michelle. Me and her got on so well while her and Louis dated it was hard not to become friends with her as well. Louis moved on and moved in with his bird earlier this year and I haven't really seen Michelle with anyone...Until now.

"So-so, you're a lesbian then?”

"Yes Harry. I've 'switched teams' as they say.”

"Since when?” I was just so shocked.

"Since over the summer...Does it bother you?” Michelle looked down at the ground and scratched the back of her neck as if she were bracing herself if I said it did and to be honest I was slightly offended that she’d think that way of me.

“No… No, I just never saw you with anyone over the summer.”

I could hear a sigh of relief escape Michelle’s lips as she turned to leave the front door.

I could have sworn she only hung out with me and the lads when Louis wasn't around. She hung out with us so much and we'd gotten so comfortable around her that we actually started counting her as one of the guys and calling her 'Mitch' or 'Mitchell' instead of Michelle. She always pretends to get cross with us when we called her that, but she can never keep a straight face long enough for us to believe that she doesn't like it.

"That doesn't mean I wasn't with anyone Harrow." Michelle winked at me and went back into her room coming out ten minutes later in joggers, a t-shirt, and Nike trainers with no backpack, one pencil, and a pen. Very prepared.

"Told you thirty minutes was more than enough time. Come now, Hazland.”

"...That's what she said." I smiled proudly at my own joke while Michelle gave me an unwavering a stale face.

"If I can say anything about growth in these last 4 years of our friendship it would be that you have made the least of it. You are the worst.”

“The pot shouldn’t call the kettle names. I thought it was funny." I grinned at her irritation grabbing all of my things in preparation to start the final year.

"Of course you did. Usually when you think it's funny that means it's not.”

Michelle exited out leaving me to lock the door to our new off campus apartment but I wanted to know more.

I followed behind her and asked her all types of questions. You can't just spring on people that you've switched sides and not expect them to want to know all of the details. In all honesty it wasn't a big deal as long as she was happy. Perhaps I was just being nosy, but after usually seeing her with mainly men my underlying question to her was probably, "Why?"

"I wasn't having that much luck with guys, Haz. One night I went out for a drink and a girl approached me so I figured, why the hell not? What could it hurt, really? Nothing. I went for it, and I enjoyed myself.”

She didn't have a great track record with guys after her split with Lou. She was so unhappy at one point, but then again when you bring home assholes and expect them to turn into stand up gents tears are to be expected. They always looked like gutter grunge to me but at the moment that seemed to be her type, so I didn't say anything. I've actually spent a lot of nights with Michelle rubbing her back as she cried against my shoulder and handing her the odd Kleenex to substitute for my shirt. Now that I think about it, last summer I really didn't see her with any guys. I guess when I saw her with girls I always assumed they were just her friends.

"So...What's it like?”

"What's what like?”

"You know the, um, the switch...What's it like?" Michelle threw her head back and laughed as we reached the main building for our senior seminar class.

"You mean what's it like going from cock to fanny? Is that what you're asking me?" I raised my eyebrows at her bluntness and I could feel heat rise in my cheeks. There's no beating about the bush with Michelle, not anymore anyway.

"Pretty much, yeah. That's what I'm asking. I’m just being nosy. If it’s too much you don’t have to-“

"Honestly," Michelle shifted her eyes back and forth as if she was going to tell me the secret to life in her next sentence, "It's so much better. Guys have no clue what they're doing down there. It's so refreshing to have someone know exactly what it is that I want, when I want it, and how I want it without explaining myself like I'm a bloody rubix cube. Did you know that there are three holes down there?” She asked me sarcastically as if we weren’t both on track for Med school.

"I resent that! And no…no I didn't know that.” I replied to sarcasm with sarcasm, grinning to myself much like the purple devil emoji. I surely did know all the holes.

"Why is that, Hazland? The resentment issue?”

We took our seats in the half full lecture room at the back of the class as we normally do. Michelle, myself and the rest of the gang have started many an early weekend by sitting in the back of the class, signing the attendance sheet and then leaving when the professors back was turned. I don't think I'll do that this year though. I have too many important tests to take if I want to be a doctor. I mean to pass the UKCAT exam the first time.

"Because I'm not half bad at it. At least I don't think I am... Never got a complaint before and I don't intend to.”

Michelle laughed loudly as the professor walked in, drawing attention our way. I smiled and waved at the onlookers before Michelle chuckled again grabbing my hand to stop me as the professor started to speak.

"Just because you never got a complaint doesn't mean that it wasn't said, Harrow. Nine times out of ten, if you don’t hear a complaint it’s because she cares more about your ego than her orgasm...It’s a shame really.”

I primped my lips at her and we continued to whisper to each other back and forth while we took notes on what the professor wrote on the whiteboard during the lecture. There would be two major papers in this class. Thankfully for the twenty page essay that we'll be assigned to do later on in the quarter we can have a partner. Michelle quickly leaned her head on my shoulder choosing me to work with when the paper isn't even due until the last week of class. I of course accepted her. Not only is she my friend but she's one of those annoyingly clever people. I've honestly never seen Michelle open or purchase one required textbook in all of our three years knowing each other in our university careers, but every time marks are posted her marks are always first class honors.

By the end of class, I ended up giving Michelle a hefty amount of paper for notes in seminar and for the other classes she had throughout the rest of the day. It baffles me as to how she's this born genius, but the most unorganized person that I know at the same time. Her only response to my annoyance was, "At least I have writing utensils.”

"Was that girl this morning your girlfriend?”

"No. I'm an admitting fuckgirl. What’s the saying? If you can’t beat them join them. I refuse to be part of the played group any more. It's our last year after all. I figure it's time to up the ante. Let monogamy go.”

I laughed and shook my head before another question came up. It was always something I wanted to know about lesbians but was too embarrassed to ask. It's not like I have many lesbian friends who I could turn to and get the information that most want to know. I'm never that embarrassed around Michelle though.

"So, erm, um...who's more dominant, when you're...You know?”

Michelle rolled her eyes at the question and I began to feel like an ass.

"When we're scissoring?" She spoke loudly making my thought about embarrassment wrong.

“Chelle!"

Michelle snickered knowing that she's put a vivid image in my head of her and the mystery blonde. I shake the thought before I get too carried away. I'm not supposed to get aroused with the thought of my best friend and another girl.

"Whoever feels like it whenever they feel like it? It was always a competition with men isn't it?”

“I don’t think it’s so much a competition as it is that some women don't like being on top?” I spoke presenting the idea causing her to pop her lips in disagreement.

“It’s never asked though is it? Sounds like male assumption to me. When I'm with a girl it's just flat out pleasurable for the pair of us. It's not about dominance, Harry. It's about getting off. Scissoring isn't a thing though, by the by.”

I nodded my head up and down still in awe that she of all people had taken a liking to someone who has the same bits as she does. It didnt' bother me like she thought it did earlier and I hope I didn't give her that impression by my line of questioning. Honestly these were just things I always wanted to know. I'm actually more hurt that scissoring apparently isn't a thing...They make it look so pleasurable in porn...I've been bamboozled.

"That's enough questions about me for now. What's happened to you?”

"What do you mean?"

"Harry full offense, but you were a slut when I first met you. You've since depleted in your numbers dramatically, except I'm sure the use of your hand. There were tissues in your bin the other night when I was cleaning the apartment and you don't have a cold…"

"I have h-hay fever Michelle! Allergies kick up at random times... Don't clean my room, I'll do it! It's personal in there. I knew I couldn't find any of my shit for a reason. And hang on-" I knotted my eyebrows playfully at her earlier slut comment.

I admit that I got around, but I moved very slowly. I've only ever had sex with seven or maybe nine girls in my twenty-one years give or take. I don't really keep count. It's not like they were souvenirs or notches on my belt for me to keep track of. All of them were an experience and I'm pretty sure I could name them all if I had to.

The first time happened my last year in 6th form or high school you could say and I didn't even know Michelle then. I got teased for that a bit, but I wasn't in a rush. The maybe other seven or eight happened here at uni but it wasn't as frequent as Michelle makes it out to be. The first two were in my first year when I met Michelle, one of them ended up being my girlfriend over a span of Five months. After that, I only was only ever active with a few more spaced out over the course of two and a half years, and they were regulars. That's not that bad when you think about it, especially for a guy my age at university.

"You were Haz! You had a new girl every weekend.”

"I did not! They were the same few people. They just kind of, alternated? You just never paid them any attention so you thought they were different every time. You're giving me more credit than I deserve."

Michelle rolled her eyes and continued to tease me.

"Whatever. What's happened then?”

"I don't know what you mean. I got invested in my studies. I have to take the UKCAT this year.”

"When is the last time you fun bit wrestled, willy waggled, played 'hide the helmet', rolled in the hay as they say?" I scrunched my nose and then thought about it and then got frustrated that I had to actually think about it.

“Yet I’m the worst? Who’s this they you speak of?" I asked her, squinting my eyes and tilting my head to the side.

"Everyone says those things when talking about sex. The more mature ones do anyway. Stop dilly dallying and answer the question. When is the last time you put your 'p' in a ‘v'?"

"S-spring? Early spring? Early Spring terms I guess…"

I could feel my cheeks turn red as I answered her question and Michelle bit her cheeks as an odd snorting noise left her nose while she tried to hold in her laughter. It's not that funny.

"You haven't fucked since the spring?" I laughed more at myself than at the shocked look on her face and shook my head no.

"No, not actual Spring. Early spring terms, so February...My birthday.”

"Harry, we're at the end of August here! You might as well count yourself as celibate. Not that I can blame the girls for dodging you. You still call a vagina a bajingo.”

I chuckled before I spoke, "The word vagina is honestly just as bad as bajingo. And this is coming from someone who has over a hundred words and phrases for sex.”

"A hundred and counting, Harrow.”

I shrugged my shoulders and tried to make the red in my cheeks less noticeable by rubbing my hand over my face. Spring term is when I decided to get more focused. I threw myself into clubs and my books to try to get more into school and buckle down. I'm even president of our graduating class now, prepared to serve on the Alumni council after graduation and I for one am proud of myself for getting this far. The greater half of my first three years here at university was spent at frat parties and in my bed sleeping class time away. I barely know how I made it through this far with decent grades, but I'm grateful that I did. Failure isn't an option.

Michelle stood on tip toe, leaning her head on my shoulder all the while soothingly rubbing my back. When I turned my head to face her, she batted her long lashes at me and made her big brown eyes look like one of those odd cartoon characters whose eyes cover more than half of their face.

"It's okay, Harry.”

"What is?”

"That you haven't gotten any pussy in over six months." Michelle has officially taken a back seat and let Mitchell take the wheel. This is how she got the nickname in the first place.

"Sod off Mitch! It's not like it's a bad thing-“

"Like shit it isn’t."

"I'm busy anyway.”

"With your hand and those bin tissues." I nudged Michelle off my shoulder feigning to be fed up with her masturbation jokes.

"Well if you weren't in my room you wouldn't have seen them! Gosh, you do something one time and then that's what people automatically associate you with!”

Michelle lets out another awkward snort that causes both of us to laugh out loud as we walk through the halls preparing to go our separate ways for the rest of the day.

"That was actually kind of funny Harry. Your jokes are getting a bit better.”

"Yeah, I know. They're funny when they're at my expense.”

"Aw, Hazland. You poor, poor serial masturbator. I'll see you later, yeah?”

"Yeah," I grinned at her before I turned to leave.

"Wait, how much later?” Michelle walked back towards me with one eyebrow raised to the sky as I tried to quickly map out my schedule for the day in my head before spitting it out to her.

"Uh, I get done with classes at half five, then I have a class meeting at six, and then I work at the first year halls front desk from seven to eleven thirty tonight. So I'll probably get home around midnight."

I contently sighed and grinned at Michelle as a look of pure horror took place of her once relaxed features. Her eyes seemed to widen larger after every additional activity that I listed, but I truly enjoyed remaining busy. Michelle's face remained contorted with displeasure before she spoke.

"So you're still coming to the pub later with the lads right?”

"Uh-oh. Chelle I don't know. I kind of forgot all about that. I don't think I will though, it's Monday and-“

"Ah, ah, ah, I'm not taking no as an answer. You promised and it's welcome week anyway. The pub is gonna be live! Just swing by and have one drink.”

“Nahhh I think I’m gonna-”

"One drink.”

“Sit this one out.”

"One drink, Harrow. One. Come on its tradition. You can't just bum out on tradition. This is our last year." She held up her tiny pointer finger to emphasize her point before she spoke again, this time in a small whisper, “One."

“No."

“Please?"

“No."

“Please?” Her lips pouted and her eyes turned sad trying her hand at manipulation.

"No, Chelle. No. Stop looking at me that way...Oh! Gah! Fine. I'll head to the pub when I get off work. One drink. One.”

Michelle bounced on her feet and clapped her hands in excitement making me shake my head before I turned to leave. Before I could make a real step Michelle called my name again.

"Hey, do you think I could borrow a pen? I seemed to have dropped mine."

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moustacheshe · 3 years

Text

Yandere! Aoi Todo x Reader

(Click for better quality)

Warnings: drugging, kidnapping

"Todo look... I know you are concerned about me but you really have to go now. Don't you need to go to school or something?" You are trying to get your best friend out of your apartment. He was invading your home for the last two days. "Come on y/n just one night. I promise I'll leave tomorrow." You sight as you sit at the table with him. "You promised me the exact same thing yesterday...and the day before." He's acting weird lately. Always warning you about the outside world or the world in general. How you could get hurt by going out or staying alone. "I know but I need to-" You let out a loud groan. "Yeah, yeah you need to protect me. I really appreciate your concern but I'm fine on my own. I always was. I always am. And I always will be. What happened to you? Why are you acting like this? Is it because of this Yuji guy?" Now your annoyance slowly turns into concern. "What? No! Yuji's nothing to do with this. It's more like the things I see everyday and..." He shakes his head. You don't need to know about curses and what they are. You already have enough to worry about.

"I actually wanted to ask you if you want to move into my apartment." He quickly changes the subject and smiles at you. You look at him confused. He's lying to you and you know it. "Todo..." You lean across the table and take his hand. "...if there is something wrong you can tell me. We always talk about our problems. Please just...tell me." He sights and stands up from the table. Todo crosses his arms as he seems to think about something. He sights and walks beside you. You turn around to face him as he kneels down to your level. He takes your hands in his huge ones. "Y/n I know we're just friends but... I was hoping that maybe we could be more." You look at him lost for words. "Besides if we are together you can move into my place and we can do all sorts of things together. I'll do everything for you: cooking,-"

"Todo..."

"shopping,-"

"Todo!"

"cleaning-"

"TODO!" You scream at him to stop his speach. He looks a little bit shocked and he clenches your hands. "I... I don't know what to say about that." You look down at your hands resting in his. Everything to avoid eye contact. "I always saw you as my best friend... I never wanted this to happen. I always thought you like tall women with a big ass." Your lips move into a little smile as you remember the time he told you about his taste in women. "No... I mean yes but that was just to...you know... Say something when somebody is asking for your type. It doesn't matter now! I want you to be with me." He takes your face in his hands and forces you to look at him. You can see his eyes are glassy. He's about to cry. "Listen Todo..." You grab his hands and put them down again. "...I really appreciate that you want to protect me but... I can and I want to live on my own. I can handle myself you know. And you are my best friend I... I don't want to lose you as a friend because of some relationship." Now tears start streaming down his cheeks. The sight of this big chunk of a man crying is really to much for you. You can barely hold back your own tears. He never cried in front of you...well except the one time he couldn't meet his Takada-chan and you had to comfort him.

He now clenches your hands even tighter. "Ah, Todo you're hurting me!" You let out a surprised yell. He never hurt you before. He snaps out of his trance and looked at you with widened eyes. "So..." His grip gets weak. "...you don't want to live with me and let me protect you." Now a few tears stream down your face too. "No I'm sorry..." You always were afraid that this would happen.

"Okay y/n I'll leave..." He wipes away his tears and stands up. "...but let me get us some water first. Crying dehydrates your body." You just sit there and give him a little nod. He finally understands it. But something still seems odd.

He comes back with two glasses of water. Todo puts both of them on the table and sits down on his chair again. You take your glass and start drinking. "You know y/n, I really didn't want it to go this way." He takes a gulp from his glass avoiding eye contact. "Yeah me neither. I really hope you understand my point. I don't want to depent on someone else." You ask yourself if it was wrong to say it like this. "You really have no idea don't you?" He sounds bitter. "What do you mean?" You say getting a little frustrated. He just won't stop. You're getting dizzy. "The curses they're everywhere. They are strong and they only bring destruction and death." You have trouble to concentrate on his words. "Wh-What are you talking about?" You don't know what he meant by curses. Your vision gets blurry and you shut your eyes tight. "I'm talking about the constant danger you're living in. That's why I've decided to take you home with me." You hold your head to stop the feeling of the world spinning around you. His words are nothing more than a faint voice far away from you. "What's wrong y/n? Are you okay?" He asks you. The concern in his voice obviously faked. "Wh-What did you do?" You hiss trying to get up. Todo stands up from his seat and walks over to you. "GET...away..." You stand up from your seat to get away but your legs give in. Todo catches you in his arms pressing your body to his chest. "You didn't listen to me. It's okay y/n I'll protect you and take care of everything you need." He strokes your head to calm you down. His embrace is tight as if you could run away any second. "N-No...I don't..." Your voice slowly fades together with your consciousness. "Everything will be fine. Just let it happen. Once you are with me, I'll be the happiest man in the world." Your heavy eyelids fall shut and you completely give in to the drug he gave you. You fall in to a heavy sleep.

As you slowly wake up you are laying on something soft. You let out a loud groan and try to move your arms. You notice that you can't move your arms because there're hold together by something. Then it hit you. 'He kidnapped me!' You quickly open your eyes and look around. The room is dark. It's night outside. You still feel weak and a little dizzy nevertheless you try to struggle against your restraints. Your wrists and ankles are tied to the bed you're laying in. "HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP ME!" You scream, hoping that someone would hear you. You're confused and scared. The person you trusted the most just drugged and kidnapped you. Tears begin to stream down your cheeks. "PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP!"

Suddenly the door to the room opens and some light illuminates the darkness of the room. You can tell it's Todo entering. He presses a light switch and a lamp next to your bed turns on. The sudden light makes you squint and turn your head away. Todo closes the door and walks in your direction. He is holding a tray with a cup and a bowl. "Oh! You're awake, darling. I made you something to eat and your favorite tea." He says smiling at you like nothing ever happened. "Todo, what's gotten into you?! What is wrong with you?! Let me go, now!" You say trying to get your wrists and ankles free. "Nothing is wrong sweetheart. On the contrary I'm the happiest man in the world. But I'm glad that you ask." He sets the tray on the beside table and sits down on the bed. "Todo listen! You need to let me go! NOW! TODO PLEASE!" You begin to cry and struggle again. Todo doesn't look at you he just stares at the tray. He seems to be lost in his thoughts. "Todo listen, if you let me go now I'll pretend like nothing happened. Everything will be back to normal and I won't tell anyone. Please we can-" "HUSH!" You feel like his voice makes the earth shake underneath you. You look at him frightened for what he's capable of. He sees the fear in your eyes and his expression changes back to a worried face. "Oh I'm sorry, babe. I didn't mean to scare you. It's just..." He sights and lays down beside you. You try to push yourself away from him but he pulls you back into his arms. "Remember that one time we kissed for the first time." That never happened. "Or that day we had our first date." Never happened. "Todo what are you talking about? That never happened. Please you need to let me go!" He doesn't pay you much attention he's busy drawing circles on your belly with his finger. "It's okay that you don't remember. The most important thing is that we are together. Here and now." He is completely delusional. He images scenarios that never happened. But you don't need to worry about not remembering any of it. You have him and he has you. That's all that matters.~

#jujutsu kaisen #aoi todo #aoi toudou #yandere #yandere aoi todo #yandere aoi todo x Reader #art #drawing #artists #jujutsu kaisen aoi todo

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pocketfulofrecs · 3 years

Text

Dee - So! We have a little game in our discord server where writers write a fic together, blindly, without any plot. One writer starts a thread, other follows up, and then another joins in. Our first run produced the story you see below. It was a game between @auspiciouscandy, @whiteflowercrimsonparasol (or justdoityoufucker) and myself or @vrishchikawrites.

We thought it should be shared with everyone. That's why Ju and I decided to start a new section on Pocketful called Storytime with Bunnies. We'll publish all stories that we write there on Pocketful and eventually on Ao3.

Personally, it was a great deal of fun and I'm so happy that we're continuing it! I hope you like the story! It was written by three people and still turned out so smooth!

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A Strange Encounter

by Vrishchika, justdoityoufucker, and auspiciouscandy

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It is dark, but Wei Ying has never been afraid of darkness.

The juniors shuffle nervously behind him, sticking so close to his back, he can feel the warmth of their bodies. Suddenly, there is a noise - loud in the silence of the night and out of place. Wei Ying clutches Chengqing tightly, ready to strike. He turns in the direction of the noise only to suck in a sharp breath and try to suppress the sigh threatening to overtake him.

He’d mostly been following the juniors, letting them take the lead to hunt the nest of low-level yao that had been terrorizing the small mountain town. They’d done well, so far, and had dealt with half of the yao without incident. The problem started when they’d run into a higher-level yao, which was to be expected given his luck on night hunts, but he hadn’t expected to see a strange man.

He seems almost as tall as Chifeng-zun had been; Wei Ying can't see his features clearly, but his instincts warn him to be cautious. The man says nothing as he steps forward. He doesn't have a corpse's stiff gait. Each step brings him closer and reveals more of him. Pale skin, dark eyes, lips as red as blood, almost unnaturally still features.

His beauty is disarming, but Wei Ying is unmoved. He's married to the most beautiful man in existence, after all. But he is curious. What is this strange, beautiful man doing in the middle of the woods? And while he looks the man over, cautious of any sharp movement the man could make, he steps forward. Though contrary to his beautiful appearance, his body is but a corpse and it is difficult to hide when he staggers and what appears to be his arm drops down onto the floor. Wei Ying hears someone gagging behind him, but he cannot take his eyes off the man; every instinct in his body is screaming about the danger in front of them.

Just when he is about to speak, the man's face changes to a look of pained horror, a look that the stiffness of a corpse shouldn't be able to achieve. There is something about the way his jaw moves, that makes it seem as if he was trying to speak, but no sound leaves his red, red lips.

"Stop," Wei Ying says, putting the force of his cultivation into the word. The corpse's mouth opens even wider, and Wei Ying senses it before anything, "Cover your ears!" he shouts, but it is too late, there are some indistinguishable whispers he catches before his hands reach his ears, and he doubts any of the juniors were fast enough even as he hears their swords immediately drop to the floor.

He wracks his brain to match the odd corpse with any of the descriptions he remembers from his studies and it suddenly clicks into place. He remembers tales of bewitching creatures. Beings that can ensnare and seduce with their voice and their beauty. Beings that can control the living mind as Wei Ying controls corpses. He remembers tales of how cultivators of immense strength would drop their swords and simply submit to these creatures, allowing them to consume their Qi without protest.

His eyes flicker towards his juniors, alarm stirring in his chest. What can he do? Think. Think, Wei Ying!

And he reaches a conclusion, the corpse uses its voice to control, to influence, and had Wei Ying not used his own to do the same? Resentful energy and spiritual energy are almost similar, it's risky, but there isn't much else to do. He already perceives the juniors trying to walk past him, and he is overcome with waves after waves of compulsion from his small amount of exposure, so Wei Ying does the only thing he can think of.

He gathers the power towards his throat. His voice laced with command, he opens his mouth and sings not a real tune, at first, but simply unbridled power that cuts off the corpse's control over the juniors.

But he cannot just wrest control; he needs to suppress the corpse, and that takes more than random notes. He slides into a familiar song, lyrics that Lan Zhan shared but have never been sung before in deference to their usual duets. The juniors have never heard Wei-qianbei sing before; they have heard his tuneful humming, whistling, and music, but not his true singing voice. It renders them silent. Wei Ying's voice is resonant and it bounces off the surrounding trees and rocks, becoming amplified. The effect is otherworldly, unlike anything they have ever experienced.

It halts the strange creature in his tracks. He sways dazedly. Something about the expression is almost covetous.

Wei Ying hears Sizhui whisper his name in worry. He is his father's son and has somehow inherited all of Hanguang-jun's protectiveness. Even now, he takes a shaky step forward to stand before Wei Ying. But there's no reason he should worry; Wei Ying's control over his power is absolute, his control over the corpse-creature the same.

He changes the intent of his power, the tone of his singing, to lure the creature to lower its guard and step closer. He trusts that Sizhui knows what to do, that the other juniors will assist as his voice lulls it into submission. The creature stumbles forward, his hand stretched out towards Wei Ying. He sways with every step and Wei Ying tracks his movements carefully.

"Good boy," he croons, maintaining a singing tone in his voice, "Whatever shall we do with you?"

The corpse's hand is still outstretched and his expression is still mesmerized. Wei Ying reaches out and closes his fingers around the hand, keeping his voice mellow and soothing. "You're a strong one, aren't you?" he sings, ignoring Sizhui's alarmed noise.

The corpse will only need to twist his grip to break Wei Ying's arm but something tells him he's safe. He leans forward, curious, "Wei Ying," and Wei Ying freezes. He doesn't let off his control but it is enough for the corpse to pull him closer, a hand reaching up to caress his hair—he is aware of the gasped whispers by the juniors of, 'Hanguang-jun,' the juniors who were just beginning to take control—but this is something out of his expectation. A normally high-level corpse of this type would be troublesome on its own, but one that could mimic?

The danger levels have increased far more than what juniors can handle; Wei Ying pivots in his singing, pulls Sizhui behind him and crowds back, keeping the juniors behind him. He pauses, for the barest moment, to say, "Flare."

That snaps Sizhui to action, and as Wei Ying resumes singing, voice louder and louder, he draws a flare out of his robes and sets it off, the sparkling blue of the fireworks temporarily catching the creature's attention, making Wei Ying snap forward and cup the corpse's face, physically drawing his attention back towards him.

It is intimate, the way he angles his body and draws the creature in. Something burns in him. He has never touched anyone but his Lan Zhan like this, with so much tenderness.

The creature that mimics his husband's voice seems to mimic his affection too. Wei Ying cringes as cold fingers trace his cheek, trailing dangerously close to his neck. One slip, and Wei Ying could potentially lose his life.

"Wei Ying," The corpse whispers in his husband's voice, and something dark stirs within him. His lips twitch into an alluring smile and Wei Ying has his hand slowly reaching up and caressing its cold skin. He thinks the eyes shimmer an amber shade, for they are nowhere near the molten gold of his husband’s. He's all too aware of this cheap imitation's intent and responds in kind.

Wei Ying ignores the yells of his nephew, the sound of another flare going up into the night sky; his hand is coated in resentful energy as it reaches the back of the corpse's neck, and he maintains eye contact with it, his voice softer to only reach the corpse.

It is completely enamoured, that is why when Wei Ying makes a hand sign to the juniors to tell them to leave, the creature doesn't react. It is like a careful, possessive lover, but, unlike his husband, there is no real care behind its actions as it closes in on him. The resentful energy on Wei Ying's hands increases, solidifies, a black, hateful knife.

When he drives it directly into the corpse-creature's neck, spearing it up into its skull, the creature makes a weak, pained groan in that facsimile of his husband's voice, and Wei Ying shouldn't feel the way he does—it is but a creature who had taken up the face of his beloved—but to hear the wounded noises it makes, trying to garner his sympathy, Wei Ying cannot help but feel that sympathy. Wei Ying should know that the hands around his neck are the ones that wouldn't hesitate to kill him, so very cold, lacking his husband's warmth.

He raises his voice, and sings a sharp tune, and the corpse whines once more before it’s rendered mute, opening its mouth wide with a final hissed, “Wei Ying!”

Wei Ying's eyes widen because, for a second, before he tightens his hands, he catches a glimpse of his husband, pain and grief on his face that he hasn't seen in years. The corpse falls, its weakness stabbed through, unable to move again and Wei Ying shudders, feeling so incredibly off-kilter.

He needs to see Lan Zhan. Lan Zhan is fine, he's sure, but the look on the creature's face, the timbre of its voice--it's almost enough to overwhelm.

The juniors, still near enough to catch the sudden silence, creep back through the trees, worried looks on their faces as they take in the look on their teacher's face, the still form of the corpse-creature on the ground.

"Xian-gege?" Sizhui starts, clearly shaken if he's reverted to that form of address. He continues forward as if to grasp Wei Ying's shoulder, but Wei Ying needs a moment. Maybe it is the leftover effects of the corpse, maybe it is his own fears and concerns.

But he takes in a sharp breath and pulls his mouth into a smile, "Now then, shouldn't we return? I assume none of you are hurt?" He looks them over, ignoring the sneaked glances from the dazed juniors as they stand up on their shaking legs, "Come along now—" he places his hand on top of Sizhui's, which shakes almost unnoticeably.

Sizhui wants to reassure him, but he knows already that Wei-qianbei wouldn't feel comforted until he lays his eyes on Hanguang-jun. Sizhui has seen enough of their love to know this is one of the few things that can rattle his indomitable Xian-gege. If anything happens to Hanguang-jun, Wei-qianbei would—

Sizhui draws his mind away from grim thoughts and watches as Wei-qianbei steps forward to the body, pulling out his qiankun pouch. Suddenly, there's a twitch of movement from nearby. As if called by Wei Ying and Lan Sizhui's thoughts, the austere white of Lan Zhan's robes appears, and he comes to a graceful halt near the corpse-creature.

"Lan Zhan," Wei Ying can't help but exhale in relief, "We're fine."

Hanguang-jun casts a look at the corpse-creature, then back at Wei Ying. He looks over Wei Ying completely before turning his gaze towards the juniors while moving towards Wei Ying, almost a split second of a glance but enough to know they're fine; it wouldn't have been noticed if Sizhui hadn't been looking for it. Then, he reaches up to caress Wei Ying’s face and Wei Ying melts into it, feeling the warmth seep into his skin.

"Wei Ying," Wei Ying can't describe how relieved he feels when the familiar scent of sandalwood envelopes him. It takes but a glance for Lan Zhan to see past his welcoming smile and glimpse the truly shaken core of him.

"Go forth, Sizhui, we'll join you soon." Lan Zhan commands and Wei Ying almost protests. He doesn't want the children away from him. Lan Zhan just shakes his head and pulls him close, "Breathe, center yourself."

Wei Ying presses his forehead to Lan Zhan's shoulder and sighs. Lan Zhan is here. Lan Zhan is safe, solid, and strong. That's all he cares about, and he feels his arms encircling him so he completely rests his weight upon his husband, his head on Lan Zhan's chest, hearing his heartbeat go thump thump thump.

He feels the earlier fight leaving his body as he relaxes against him, matching their breaths together. Wei Ying wants to stay there with him, the forest trees and the silence that was eerie and offsetting earlier feels serene and calming. But they can’t, because they have to get back, everyone in need of rest, the kids in need of checking to see if they're all actually okay.

Then there's the issue of the corpse-creature; research will need to be done when they are back in Cloud Recesses, to figure out what it is and if there might be more. Wei Ying breathes in the sandalwood scent of his husband, then steps away, qiankun pouch in hand. The corpse is where it had fallen, and he kneels next to it, Lan Zhan a comforting presence next to him.

"Aiya," He says, "They tried but couldn't get close to your perfection, Lan Zhan."

His husband huffs but keeps a steady, warm hand on his back. It is a reassuring presence that makes it easier to examine the body. Wei Ying runs his eyes along the tall body, mind stirring, "Who could be behind this?" How and why did they mimic Lan Zhan of all people? Wei Ying can't help but feel concerned. Lan Zhan hums in response but offers no commentary; he's probably still in a protective, vigilant state. Wei Ying smiles fondly and kisses him on his cheek, "let's return then,” he says, and gets up after putting it away.

Lan Zhan pulls him closer to himself; maybe he knows what worried Wei Ying as he keeps a comforting presence by his side. They walk to the Juniors standing ahead, who stop their whispers as soon as they get close. Wei Ying looks them over once again. They look at him with a slightly dazed look, but are steady on their feet. Wei Ying frowns, maybe it's the effects of leftover energy?

Jin Ling starts to say something about heading back to Jinlintai. As if Wei Ying would let him! It's almost midnight, and the night hunt has taken them to the far reaches of Gusu-Lan territory, a long trip of a couple days to Lanling-Jin territory. "None of that," Wei Ying chides, feeling like himself again. "Back to the village for all of us; Hanguang-jun needs to make sure there are no lingering effects."

Jin Ling half-scowls, but doesn't deny or try to argue back, and there's a blur as Sizhui all but pulls Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji into a hug. Jin Ling sees Sizhui’s shoulders shake slightly and he looks away. Terrifying situation or not, that illusion had felt all too real. It was as if it were Hanguang-jun standing before them, the mannerism, the voice, how he...he—

Before he can think more he feels a pull at his wrist and he feels the warmth of another person around him. He hears Jingyi make a startled noise as the other two are also pulled into a clustered little group hug. Jin Ling’s face flushes red and he opens his mouth to protest but doesn't push them away.

“You're safe,” Wei Ying says, as the teens start to pull away after a few moments. If a few of them have reddened eyes, or barely-there tear tracks down their cheeks, neither he nor Lan Zhan mention it.

"Aiya," he gives Sizhui an extra pat on the head, a smile finally pulling at his face as he takes in the juniors' despondent looks. "What is all this? I would think someone died if I came upon you all like this! Come now, back to the village.”

"Wei Ying!" Lan Zhan calls suddenly and Wei Ying doesn't understand why. He looks up at his husband, only to see his eyes shining with concern, perhaps even some panic.

"What? Lan Zha—"

An abrupt wave of dizziness overcomes him and he falters, feeling something dripping down his nose. He touches his upper lip shakily, his limbs starting to feel heavy. His vision swims and Lan Zhan catches him immediately as he sways forward. Something cold is settling within him. "Lan Zhan," he croaks. His vision is turning black from the corner of his eyes, and Lan Zhan is saying something but he can't hear it, it’s muffled and sounds so far away.

Wei Ying hates the feeling that floods him, the wave of cold dread that he hasn't felt in a long time. His hair stands up as he feels ghosts of the touches. They linger on the back of his neck, his face, his arms where the corpse had touched him, among the distant noises, he hears a clear, sharp "Wei Ying," but it sounds so odd, so unfamiliar despite it being his husband’s voice and that's when he crumples, losing all control of his limbs.

The cheer and safety of mere moments before has fled, and Wei Ying can't stamp out the panic that grips him as his breath hitches. He's vaguely aware, as if he is not truly in possession of his own body anymore, that his sweet husband, his Lan Zhan, has pulled his body up into his arms.

That awareness lessens even more as Lan Zhan's distant, warped voice sends out some sharp commands, and then he feels the slap of wind on his face and something isn't right. His senses are fading but he has practiced dual cultivation with Lan Zhan for several years now. He's intimately familiar with his husband's core. Something isn't right because—

—they're running. The wind is against his face. He remembers the trapped look of despair. His husband commands the children but something isn't right. He's leaving something behind. The arms carrying him are familiar but recognition slips him and he becomes increasingly aware as a sharp pain increases from his arm and he gasps, because it feels as if fire is under his skin, it moves from his arm and reaches up to his neck and it increases. Wei Ying has always had a large tolerance to pain, but he is in little control and he cannot stop himself as he lets out a pained scream, the wind feels faster as Lan Zhan—

—not right, not right, not right—

—he wakes up to the dark wood and white paint of the Cloud Recesses. He does not move, cataloging his body, the sensations, what he remembers. There was an oppressive feeling of pain, of wrongness, that is now mostly gone. Did they fly back? How long has it been?

He feels like he's forgetting something, forgetting; he thinks it over, the body, the pain, and reaches up his arm and sure enough, there are bright red marks, beginning from his arm, spreading out like spilled ink on paper, they resemble a spiders web as they crawl upwards, up along until they disappear into his clothes and he had no doubt they reach till his neck. What about his face? He reaches up to try and touch but before he can, the door slides open as Lan Zhan steps through.

Wei Ying's entire focus shifts towards the Second Jade. Lan Zhan looks pristine as always, calm like nothing can disturb him. His movements are steady, unhurried. He sets his things aside and walks into the Jingshi casually. There's no trace of urgency or worry in him. Wei Ying feels his heart grow cold. His Lan Zhan wouldn't have been as calm, nor would his Lan Zhan look at him the way it did, unmoving and—the same way that thing had.

"Lan Zhan" comes and sits by his bed, eyes lock over him, dark and amber. "Wei Ying," he—it—reaches up a hand, and cradles his cheek, the same way his husband did. Except, its thumb inches towards lips and it is colder than ice. Wei Ying acts unbothered, showing a soft smile as he puts his hand over the one on his face.

"I'm fine, Lan Zhan!" he says softly. The suspicion grows when he remembers the red veining on his body, when he realizes that the touch isn't as tangible as it should be.

Touching the creature's hand feels like holding a dust mote, and he abruptly realizes that he isn't sure if this even is the Jingshi. It is the same pristine colors, of course, but their possessions seem blurred, as if only half-existing. There is no familiar, comforting scent of sandalwood. Is it an illusion? A dream? Is this creature a figment of his imagination? Or is it something else? He tries to access his core and can't grasp anything. He tries to summon resentful energy but it slips through his fingers like water. His only choice is to get information.

"What happened?" he asks in a soft tone he reserves for his husband. He angles his body to be welcoming, like he would with Lan Zhan. None of his actions give any indication of his suspicions. "Are the children safe?"

Lan Zhan nods, "They're safe. Lan Xichen is looking after them and a healer is examining them. You are the only one to be harmed. We do not know the nature of your injuries—" Verbose. Too verbose. Lan Xichen, not xiongzhang or Xichen. Even his imagination wouldn't conjure an illusion so inaccurate. This isn't just a simple case of his mind making things up.

The last thing he remembers is Lan Zhan, his Lan Zhan sending waves of spiritual energy and holding him close, so he can rest assured his body is safe. The hand slips from his cheek, as the "Lan Zhan"—no, the corpse, raises his chin making him look directly at it.

"What is Wei Ying thinking of?" it croons and Wei Ying looks away from it, and bites his lip as way of disguising his eyes roaming over the interior of the Jingshi, now that he looks carefully, the arrangement of the bed, the dresser, everything is out of order—the hand on his chin tightens, "Wei Ying, I'm right here."

The meaning is subtle, and Wei Ying turns to it, his expression as if hesitant, "I..I'm worried about the kids.." he takes on a concerned expression, not entirely faked, "Can you take me to see them?"

A pulse of Lan Zhan's--his Lan Zhan's spiritual energy abruptly floods him, and then is gone. It is a miracle he is able to keep his expression level and unbothered by it, but he's beginning to put the pieces together. He needs to keep the creature distracted, talking.

"Wei Ying," the creature wearing Lan Zhan's body says, almost chiding, "they need their rest, and you need your own rest. I am here with you; do not worry about them for the time being.”

Wei Ying knows it isn't the right time to push. He decides on a different approach, "You know how I get when there's a mystery to solve, Lan Zhan!" he protests with a playful smile, "You can't expect me to rest without any explanation? What happened? How did I get hurt? What did the healers say?" Simple questions, things he would've asked Lan Zhan in any case.

There's a lingering heat of Lan Zhan's qi swirling around within him, too weak to actually heal him or bring him out of this state, but enough to sharpen his perception and remove his pain. He knows his husband is trying to save him and there's no person more capable than his Lan Zhan. Something in him settles at that. Let Lan Zhan work from the outside to resolve the situation. Wei Ying will work from the inside to get more information.

The expression that crosses the corpse's face, of being caught off-guard, seems so foreign on Lan Zhan's face, but it composes itself and lets go of his chin, and seems to contemplate before deciding on an expression of utmost gentleness and care. "This," it says, as it reaches to touch the back of his neck, where one of the webbings must be, "is a mark of possession." A hint of darkness, desire, flashes in its eyes, "It means Wei Ying's qi has been flooded with another’s—" Wei Ying tenses, but the corpse has no suspicion in its eyes, meaning it was referring to that moment in the forest—"and Wei Ying is one of the few who have been able to reject it, so these," it reaches down to his arm, tracing over the red, "remain as a reminder." It looks enthralled, pleased even.

And Wei Ying feels his lips press flat. "I don't like them at all!" He pretends to whine, shows how he absolutely abhors the idea of it, feeling satisfied when it frowns in displeasure. "I don't like any marks other than the ones Lan Zhan makes,” he adds, looking at the corpse through his lashes.

Its facade almost slips, with the anger appearing on its face, and Wei Ying fights back a smug smile when another rush of his husband's warm spiritual energy wraps around him. The corpse-creature's face blurs for a moment, with that rush of qi, but then resettles. It looks distinctly displeased, though it tries to mask the expression with one of fondness that looks laughably fake. Wei Ying does not laugh.

"If my Lan Zhan wanted to make some marks," Wei Ying says coyly, trailing off in a suggestive manner. The creature seems to freeze and flicker, as if it is wholly unsure of what to do with that. And Wei Ying pulls back just as the corpse makes a hesitant hand gesture and says, softly, "Of course I'm joking Lan Zhan, you know your Wei Ying, I can't relax until I see the kids, and—" he adds seeing it fume "—you too, I know you're worried about them but they're strong! So they'll be fine!"

Wei Ying finishes his 'assurance' and Lan Zhan succeeds. There's a towering surge of qi coursing through him, ready to pull him back, his to command. By now, he is so familiar with his husband's qi that he can use it as his own. He sees how it makes the creature's eyes widen and falter. He smiles coyly, tapping his chin as the binds holding him to this place snap one by one.

"Now, who are you, my dear friend?" he asks as Lan Zhan's power unseals his own. The core he has cultivated so diligently pulses with power and the remaining binds disintegrate. Before the illusionary world around him can disappear, he reaches forward and slams a palm against the creature's chest, a smile of triumph curling at his lips.

"There you are," he whispers and drags them both to the real world that awaits them. His eyes flicker towards the real Lan Zhan, who looks pale and strikingly furious, and smirks coyly, "Lan Zhan! Someone had the audacity to steal your Wei Ying from you!"

The fury in his husband's eyes brightens into an inferno ready to destroy the most powerful of foes, and Wei Ying can't help but quiver in delight, in satisfaction. No words are needed between them, their souls and actions in perfect harmony. The creature that had taken him, and now is beholden to him, collapses and rebuilds itself, now not in Lan Zhan's form but again the form of the corpse he and the juniors had first encountered. It tries to fight against his power, but it stands no chance.

Lan Zhan steps forward, Bichen already unsheathed and ready to cut the corpse down, but Wei Ying shakes his head. He turns to the corpse, "Now, my friend, let's figure out what you are."

Wei Ying slams a talisman on the creature's chest and watches in satisfaction as it binds the creature completely. It squirms and tries to break the binds but to no avail. Seeing that the prisoner is secure, the juniors, healthy and hale, rush forward, gathering around him in concern.

Wei Ying smiles and meets Lan Zhan's eyes over their heads. 'Ah,' He thinks with something like heat curling in him, 'still furious.'

Indeed, Lan Zhan is furious. His eyes are dark and tracking all of Wei Ying's movements. His smile takes on an edge and he tilts his head to the side, baring his neck just slightly. Lan Zhan's eyes narrow and lips thin.

"Aiya," he pats the children indulgently, "Let your senior go, your Hanguang-jun is getting impatient."

The juniors flush red, and mutter excuses to leave. Wei Ying looks at Lan Zhan and reaches forward to pull him, but that movement shifts his sleeve to show the red markings and he finds his arm in the other’s grasp as Lan Zhan pulls him closer, so Wei Ying’s weight is entirely on his body as if he's hugging him. He's startled.

"Ah, Lan Zhan what're you—" he cuts off mid-sentence as Lan Zhan curls one hand around his waist, holding him close, and the other raises his hair, letting air brush against his nape. The sensation tingles; Lan Zhan knows his weak spot and with the energy flow from earlier it's sensitive, and Wei Ying flushes figuring out—"Lan Zhan, wait, wait—Ah!!"

His back arches and he shivers as Lan Zhan’s lips infused with spiritual energy land on his neck and he continues with a sharp bite, one that lets Wei Ying know just how displeased his husband is, how worried he had been and how thankful he now is that they are safe. Wei Ying can't help the squeak that comes from him at the action, but he is not hurt. The bite is followed by a tender kiss, one that spreads his husband's spiritual energy through him, chasing away the redness of the spider-webbed marks on his arms, filling him with comfort and at the same time lighting a fire in him.

"Wei Ying is careless," Lan Zhan says, lips moving against Wei Ying's skin when he doesn't even pull away to speak, "I have been worried, Wei Ying was gone, alone."

He says the last part softly but Wei Ying hears it anyway with their bodies together, he can feel his warmth, their heartbeats and breaths mingling together, he can feel him and Wei Ying feels at ease, Lan Zhan’s words make his heart ache, 'Aish his beloved', "Lan-er-gege," he begins, his voice mellow and teasing, "Lan-er-gege, I felt you," he says, tracing Lan Zhan's back with his fingers as his breathing hitches. "I wasn't alone,” he finishes.

After waiting for a moment to soak in the comfort, Wei Ying leans back and looks at his husband, before leaning in to pull him into a kiss Lan Zhan leans into him, desperate and fierce. A strong arm curls around his back, holding onto him tightly. Wei Ying feels fond as he cups his husband's face, making soothing noises in the back of his throat even as the kiss grows heated. He pulls away with a gasp, chuckling when Lan Zhan doesn't let go, dipping his head to kiss along his jaw, "Aiya, husband, we're in public. Your uncle could arrive any moment now."

Lan Zhan doesn't let go and Wei Ying yelps when sharp teeth sink into his flesh once again, "How cruel to your poor Wei Ying!"

"It would seem you're well, Wuxian," An amused voice interrupts them and Wei Ying startles, looking beyond his beloved to see Lan Xichen watching them in amusement. Wei Ying pushes Lan Zhan away and, this time, his husband parts with him reluctantly to bow to their brother. There's not even an ounce of shame on his beloved's face and Wei Ying feels flushed. How unfair.

He turns to greet Lan Xichen. "Da baizi! Yes, I'm okay!" Lan Wangji's arm around him tightens and Wei Ying squirms slightly. Their robes are already in a complete state of disarray. "Lan Zhan!" he whispers though he's pretty sure it’s still loud, and, sure enough, he hears a chuckle as Lan Xichen shakes his head slightly.

"That's a relief," he smiles at them, which Wei Ying returns just as bright, "I will not hold you up further," he says gently, and adds a joyful and teasing, "I'll go let Uncle know."

To not disturb you is left unsaid as he turns to leave and Wei Ying hides his face in Lan Zhan's neck as he hums in agreement, completely unrepentant. "Lan Zhaaaan" but doesn't say anything else as the door closes. The smile remains on his face; everyone is home safe, Wei Ying is happy, and it all feels right once again.

#storytime with bunnies #mdzs fic #wangxian #mdzs juniors #wei wuxian #lan wangji #lan sizhui #lan jingyi #jin ling #post canon #wei wuxian and the juniors #justdoityoufucker #vrishchika

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whosjunglejim4322 · 3 years

Text

Bramosia | J.Seo (m)

Genre: pwp, knight!au, smut, fluff, he is, and I can't stress this enough, madly in love with you

Warnings: loss of virginity, pussy eating, mutual pining and longing, it's forbidden but who's gonna stop u??? Exactly. Inaccurate descriptions of the time period probably, inappropriate use of the word princess, he fucks you to tears, this is so self indulgent I gotta blast

The moons unearthly luminescence bleeds through the windows that sit directly above your wing of the old castles corridor, a reminder of why he bears the heavy sword that hangs off of his hip, of why he's here in the first place.

He rolls his aching neck, blinking his dry eyes a few times in an attempt to dampen them. He's usually not so worn by now.

Perhaps the two of you had gotten too carried away last night, it's too easy when you're with eachother. Effortless, like that of a flowers perianth traveling wistfully through a summers breeze. It's easy to forget.

He's here to protect you, nothing more, as he is was a proffesional in all that he does. He is a knight, after all. One of the best. Your father wouldn't have requested him from a province so far away if he weren't damn good.

Six months ago, it seems like a lifetime away and yet the memory of seeing you for the very first time is so vivid behind his eyelids, tangible as if he could reach out and hover his palms over the warmth the halo around you seemed to emit.

He smiles to himself, the image keeping him sane and distracting him from the ache in the soles of his feet. He knows you're probably not sleeping, he wishes you wouldn't worry about him. He's doing it to himself, really.

He is a warrior but he is only so strong, so resilient. He has never been stricken by such a force as to have his bones feel as weak as they do when he looks into your eyes, when you cup his face in your hands like he is the most delicate thing you have ever seen.

Sure, he hadn't been the most nonchalant. His eyes barely left you even during the brief moments in which his life is not sworn over to do so, and you being you, caught him almost every time. You'd smile, fleeting enough for only him to notice.

You never get the credit you deserve, he had come to find out over the past several months. Being a princess, as fawned over the title may be, it wasn't meant for you.

You'd scowl at the name of every prince your father mentioned might come visit, which he'd take pride in secretly. You wouldn't even scold him whenever he'd been clearly protective in a manner than suggested that it was more than just the job that inclined him to act that way.

Perceptive, and clever you are. And to think, you might feel even a fraction of what he feels, it causes his heart to thunder loudly behind his sturdy ribcage, momentarily reducing his fatigue.

You are the only one in all of his twenty five years of life that has threatened to shake his very foundation, like you've found a way to wind yourself through every ridge of his skeleton like vines of Wisteria.

Sundays are always the hardest, you're still so fresh in his mind, on his skin. It's like every inch of him has been permanently marked, he can still feel the weight of your body against his and the warm puff of air from your lips against his earlobe as you sing his name.

His sigh is quiet in the vast, empty space around him. He shouldn't be thinking of you so late, when he's so tired. It makes him ache for you all the more, make him wish life was anything but what it is now. That he could be with you unabashedly.

That he could be your protector, and not just in a way that could be be permanently devastated if anyone were to find out about the two of you.

He doesn't realize he's closed his eyes, not until he has to peel them open and search for the source of the soft voice he's just heard whisper his name into the dark.

He furrows his brows as a stream of warm candlelight spills through the crack in your door from your room, your form coming into a few just a moment later, as if beckoned from his dreams.

"You're really going to stay out there, John?" He foresees your incredulity, smiling at the hand thats propped up on your hip.

"Those are my orders, princess." He has a hard time not staring at you, even in such poor lighting you are still the most beautiful thing he's ever witnessed.

He's always stubborn about breaking the made up rules you two have put in place, like only meeting in private on Saturdays. Despite his inability to resist you he still needs to keep you safe.

"My father is a whole wing away, don't you know," you emphasize your point by stepping out past your doorframe, tiptoeing at an almost imperceptible pace towards him. "and if danger were to arise, how much more convenient need it be, than for you to be right there with me?"

You're standing right in front of him now, weaking his resolve eith each syllable that passes those pretty lips of yours. It's strange, how he still wonders if your feelings for him are resolute as his are for you, when you're the one always asking for trouble. Eager to have your way.

When you reach out to grab his waist, he breaks.

"Princess, if someone were to see that I'm not outside of your room guarding as I'm supposed to,"

You interrupt him, pressing yourself closer until he can feel your chest against his, the barrier of his clothing suddenly a burden far heavier than before.

"Who? Who might see? Everyone is asleep, you should be."

You stare up at him and he can't seem to resist the pull, meeting your eyes and unclapsing his hands from behind his back to stroke the apple of your cheek with his knuckles.

You heel into his touch, beaming as you realise you've already gotten your way, evident in the way he sighs your name as if the word fills him with oxytocin.

"You really are trouble," he cups your face, calloused fingertips swiping a fallen lash from underneath your eye. "trying to lure me in, like a siren. I'd be willing to go, anyways."

You lift yourself to the tips of your toes, pressing a brief, featherlight, kiss to the surface of his lips. Just enough to bring forth warmth to his cheeks.

"You're silly, I'd be too selfish a siren to do any damage. I'd have to keep you all to myself."

His arms are strong and steady as the encapsulate you, the fears and worries of outside intruders fading with each second spent in eachothers presence. It's like nothing else exists.

"Please, Princess. It's hard enough already, to be away from you," he's on the verge of losing any bit of hope for his sanity, but as anticipated, you won't have it.

"And you don't think it's hard for me? You think that I enjoy knowing that it is prohibited for me to be like this with you? I am many things but I am not selfish, so if you don't want to come with me then I won't force you."

He has to bite back a laugh, or maybe a scream of frustration and agony all at the same time. Here you are, so close he's sure you can hear how his pulse pounds beneath his skin at your presence, actually accusing him of not wanting you. It's preposterous.

You glare up at him when his arms don't loosen their grasp.

"You must be mistaken, sorely mistaken. If you think that any moment spent without you is even the least bit pleasant for me, you're wrong. So wrong it's a bit humorous," he kisses your cheek, and then the other. Your skin tingles where his lips grace.

"You may not be selfish but I am. So selfish that I'd give into my own desires even if it meant that one slip up could ruin it all. Don't you see that?" You sigh blissfully, in spite of his words, when he kisses your nose.

"Well I think that's stupid, I'd never let such a thing happen. I've lived here my whole life, I'd be able to predict the likelihood of someone coming up here during such a late hour."

He doesn't miss the pitch of sadness that comes with talk of the castle, he knows that there is so much you still have yet to experience. So much you'd like to do, so far away from here.

Still, he can't deny the truth in which you speak. You're right, and he knows that you're as careful of these things as he is. He trusts you, as you trust him. And what is he going to do, say no? He'd never have the willpower.

His broad shoulders relax, his hands suddenly engulfing yours.

"Alright, you don't have to pout anymore. You know I'll end up kissing it from that pretty face of yours anyways."

You suppress a giggle of elation, squeezing your fingers around his as you turn to quietly pull him into your room, peering into the the hallway once more to make sure the coast is clear, before you ease your door shut.

And then at once, he is what you taste on your tongue.

His lips always leave you breathless. The way he kisses you, it's as of you are his only source of oxygen and his lungs burn with the need for air. He is fierce, but so very concise. You almost forget that he so ruefully pretended to put up a fight.

Your arms mold around his neck as he slouches the slightest bit in order to make the reach easier for you, knowing how you like to bury your hands in his hair and tug at the strands whenever he does something that you'd like more of.

Your eagerness is a bit more exuberant tonight, normally you'd still be a bit bashful, giggling between pecks and having to turn your face away before kissing him again.

But you haven't pulled away from him yet, not even for a breath and suddenly his skin is sweltering towards what feels like a hundred degrees. He's pretty sure you've just whispered his name.

He's already gone, helplessly lost in the way you're clinging onto him with all your strength.

"John." Just his name falling from your lips in the form of a sweet sigh has his knees buckling.

He's careful, hesitant even, when he cups the back of your knees and allows you to fall atop your bed, the sight almost too much to bear. He can never catch a break.

But he has to look at you, has to see the look in your eyes, the gleam that shines in your blown out pupils as your fingers tug at the clothing hanging loosely on his body. He fights back a groan.

Of course things have gotten intense between the two of you, but nothing more than over the clothes petting. And, even then, that drove him to the brink of insanity. He didn't think he could ever be putty in someone's hands until he met you.

It feels like everything is happening so fast yet not slow enough, it seems as if you're blooming like a lotus before his eyes and he wants to capture every little detail. Just incase one day his memories are all he has of you.

You pull him back down to your mouth, legs suddenly looping around his trim waist, knees locked on either side. You practically purr as his hands, large and tender, grace your thighs only to be met with bare skin where your nightgown has risen up.

He's breathing heavily when your mouths depart momentarily, his doe eyes an onyx pit of desire and emotion as he stares down at you, lips ruby red.

You nod, as if reading his mind and answering the dozens of unanswered questions that sit unmoving at the tip of his tongue. Still, his eyebrows are pulled together in concentration, in tentative restraint.

"You can touch me. Please, touch me."

Your skin is heavenly underneath his trembling touch, from the soft hair atop your thighs to the way you so perfectly mold around his fingers. You're a gift of the most ethereal kind, here in front of him.

You coo at him with a voice of an angel, pulling at his face in an attempt to have him kiss you again. He's been too busy ogling, and repays you with the press of his mouth against the crook of your neck.

You lift your chin to allow him more access, eyes fluttering closed and thighs tightening around his middle when you feel the warmth of his open mouth against your throat.

"You're so sweet, so pretty." He mumbles, practically floating.

He nips at your collarbone, and you can't stop your hips from bucking up against him, your clothed center meeting his hardened length through the material of his bottoms.

The air is thick with tension now, you can feel it buzzing through the both of you like ths thrum of a thunderstorm. He sucks in a breath, lips ghosting over yours.

"I want to make you feel good, If you'd allow me." He tries to control the shake in his voice but he's not sure he's succeeded. What a mess you've made of him.

You kiss him for what seems like the hundredth time but feels like the first, still sending jolts of electricity through your body and causing heat to swirl in your loins. You can barely speak.

"Y-Yes, yes I'll allow you."

Your voice is foreign to your own ears, clouded with desire and a desperation that is as overwhelming as it is strange and new.

But having him here, knowing he's the one whose hands are touching you, it's comforting in a way that leaves no room for doubt that he is nothing but kind. Nothing but adoring.

It's hard to tell with just the luminosity of a single candle on your bedside table, but you're almost certain you can feel him shuffle. At least, his weight seems to have shifted, his arms suddenly caged around your waist, upperhalf between your legs.

And then you feel it, the plushness of his lips just above your knee as he lifts your legs by your calves, placing them over his shoulders. You're not sure you can focus on anything else now, breathing suddenly heavy.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" His voice is so close, yet far away in an unfamiliar way. It has butterflies swarming your belly.

"I'm so lucky, so so lucky..." He trails off between kisses, shifting from one thigh to the other, slowly but surely making his way towards your center.

It's only now in your bird brain that you're beginning to realize what exactly he's about to do, and it's like some switch inside of you has been flicked on, toes suddenly curling in anticipation, wetness soaking into the fabric of your underwear.

The desire isn't just in your belly now, its everywhere. All consuming, when he pushes your nightgown up and bunches it around your hips, the air cool against your skin. You shiver, and his cheek brushes against the crease of your thigh.

"Have you ever been touched like this, princess?" He's curious but not pushy, just wants to know. When you shake your head, he swallows.

He's slow and steady, pulling your underwear off your hips and down your legs, allowing the garment to fall to the floor. You don't clamp your legs shut, despite the instinct to shield yourself. You've never hidden yourself from him, and you know there's no reason to.

Esepcially not when he's looking at you like he is right now, like a man starved whose just been presented with a meal of his favorite kind. He glances up at you, with eyes that shine with gratitude, and awe alike. You reach out to stroke his hair.

And then, suddenly, his face is gone from your view. You feel it, first, before you register that it's happening. A gasp leaves your lips the moment your back arches ever so slightly off of your mattress, his hands keeping your thighs apart as his tongue licks another flat stripe through your folds.

You feel exposed in a way that only feels as intoxicating as it does, because he's the one with his mouth on your cunt, suckling your bud between his lips and swiveling his head side to side. You tug at his hair.

A guttural groan resonates in his throat and the vibration serves as direct stimulation, a mewl leaving your mouth as you buck you hips up against his skilled tongue.

"Shhh baby, stay quiet for me," you furrow your eyebrows, looking down at him with stars in your eyes. "I know, I know sweetheart." He reads the pleading in your eyes, soothingly rubbing your hips as he delves back in.

It's not easy to stay quiet. Not at all.

If you'd thought him rubbing your clit through your clothes was something to be noisy over, nothing prepared you for this.

He's so good at it, so generous with every lap of his tongue. The sounds are lewd and loud in the shared space, and his tongues pace only increases when you reach down to find his hands. He intertwines your fingers before you give him the hint.

You try to keep your volume low, your whimpers almost inaudible but loud enough to spurr him on, to have his hips rutting against the bed while he kisses your cunt with passion only a lover could have.

Bliss overcomes you faster than you expect, and swallows you whole like a vicious, unmerciful hurricane.

Your thighs tremble against his strength as he keeps them parted when they threaten to close, your fingers twisted in the comforter as tears well in your eyes.

You're not sure if you're making any noise, the light too bright behind your eyes, bones suddenly weightless as his tongue licks you clean. You twitch, aware that you've let out a whine. The feeling is agonizingly pleasant.

You're still throbbing when his hands suddenly grasp your jaw, head lolling in his direction as he presses his lips to yours. He's serene, slipping his tongue into your mouth, humming.

You're certain, now. Certain that you need to have him in every way there is to have someone, for your heart may forever be unsettled if it doesn't get to taste what it's like to love him wholly, completely.

"I want to-" you've got his rapt attention, as you always do, and he stares down at you with a lovesick expression as you struggle to find the strength to say it out loud.

He's grown accustomed to reading your countenance, only time allowing him to grasp the meaning behind every crease and line that forms on your face, he's certain you could give him one look and he'd instantly know what it is that you're trying to say.

One perk to having a secret rendezvous, though he still needs to hear you say it. He'd only take your word for it regarding something like this, something that he's dreamt about more times that he'd like to admit.

He can't hide his surprise, thumbs stroking your face.

"You want me to..." he quirks an inquisitive brow, nearly becoming distracted when your tongue darts out to wet your bottom lip. "you want me to be your first?"

Even the words have you latching onto him tighter, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin against yours.

"Yes, I want that very much...do you...also want that?"

He grins, widely and for a moment you forget he was born to be made of steel, that he's fought all of his life and has bruised his skin for the sake of his kingdom. You want to kiss away every bad memory in his head.

"How could you even think you have to ask? I want nothing more, just you. You're all I'll ever want."

The veracity in his voice, suddenly hoarse, makes your skin feel like it's being tickled by a million, tiny feathers. You never knew anything could feel like this.

A heartbeat later, your hands are slipping underneath his top to make an attempt at pulling it off, your excitment not a good match for your lack of coordination. Of course, he doesn't mind helping.

He slips his sword from his hip while you stare up at him with wide eyes of reverence and desire, so much of him being exposed at once causing a swelter of heat to boil underneath your skin.

Your hands are hesitant, hovering around his lithe hips as he sits back on his haunches, chest rapidly rising and falling as the atmosphere begins to soak into his pores. He can't believe he gets to make love to you.

"You can touch me, princess," he's the one reassuring you now, knowing that beyond your headstrong personality when you're with him, you're still so timid; trembling like a leaf in autumn.

His dexterous fingers gently grasp your wrists, placing your palms over his abdomen, keeping your gaze all the while, head nodding in encouragement.

He's soft, soft on the surface at least. The soft down that covers his honey colored skin is like silk underneath your fingers, a juxtaposition to the rigid muscle underneath that flexes as your fingertips move upwards towards the broad planes of his chest.

You hook your fingers around his shoulders, and pull him down to your mouth, determined as your heart bellows inside of your body.

It's wilder this time, the wet sounds loud in your ears, his tongue waltzing with yours. You rake your nails down his sides, and he damn near growls.

It's a blur, the way he slips the straps of your gown from off of your shoulders, before removing the garment completely and throwing it behind him. Somewhere in between he pulls the covers out from underneath you, sensing the chill that runs through you like a tremor from the exposure.

It's during that brief moment when you're too drunk on adrenaline, that your fingers begin pulling at the buckle of his bottoms, too eager again and not being able to unfasten it correctly. Always the gentlemen, he does it for you, again.

He's careful now, not completely planting himself against you yet when he kisses your neck and takes your breasts in his massive palms, squeezing indulgently.

You pull him up by the ridge of his jaw, wrapping your legs around his middle as you had previously, letting out a small gasp as his hard length suddenly comes to lie heavy between your legs when you beckon him closer by your heels on his back.

"You're sure you want me?" He slips his hand that's not cupping your cheek, down in between your bodies to rub your clit with his middle finger, actually expecting you to be able to speak coherently. He supresses his gasp upon feeling the abundance of your essence.

It's hard to focus, when he's looking down at you like that, when you can feel every ridge and curve of his naked body against yours. Perhaps it's being able to to tell that he's feeling the same way just by the way he speaks, that makes it so intoxicating.

"You're all I'll ever want." You echo his earlier words, and his laughter fills your ears like a lullably. You reach out to push his dark hair out from in front of his eyes, his lips catching your palm and placing a kiss to the center.

"It'll hurt, I'll go as slow as you need me to." You see the worry creased between his brow, and you soothe it away by clenching your thighs around his waist, silently beckoning him.

"Please, please fuck me."

It takes him by surprise, cock twitching against your sex. You sound so sweet, so angelic even when you're requesting something so filthy.

He lifts himself on his forearms, reaching down to grasp his shaft. Your hands are in his hair a the while, fingers tracing shapes across the nape of his neck. You suck in a breath when he rubs the tip against your clit, arousal leaking from your slit.

He rubs his cock against you like this, through your silken folds and back up to your sensitive nub, until your head is thrown back against the pillows, face turned to the side and canorous mewls slipping past your lips.

Your eyes flutter open when he kisses you, finally prodding your entrance, readying you. Your teeth gently sink into the plush surface of his bottom lip, as if urging him to continue.

Your mouth falls open when he begins to push himself inside of you. You have to brace yourself by clinging onto his biceps, reminding yourself to breathe.

If you weren't as wet for him as you are, you're sure it would be more painful. It still stings, even more so as he begins to bottom out, using every bit of self control he has as to make sure he doesn't accidentally rut into you with too much force.

He meets your eyes when he's fully sheathed inside of you, your fingernails leaving crescent moons in his skin. He doesn't mind it one bit.

"Are you alright?" The tenderness in his voice is accompanied by his lips across your cheeks, down your jaw, over your eyelids.

"Mhm. J-Just stay like this, for a second, please." Your walls flutter around him and his eyes fall heavy. He stays as still as he can for the moment, fingers massaging your soft hip.

"I never thought...never dreamed we'd get to do this." He speaks in an irrevocable way, swelling your heart over two times its size with how he talks about you. Like you're truly something magical.

You wiggle your hips, his gaze searching for yours and lighting up with newfound determination when you give him conformation to move. He slowly drags himself out, before pushing himself back in.

"If you only knew...how much I truly think of you." You speak steadily despite the wave of pleasure that ripples through your body, from the pit of your stomach outwards, touching every nerve.

He's big, bigger than you expected, but curved in a way that has you fighting a cry. Your lungs ache with the need to make noise, to express how it feels to have him inside of you like this. You squeeze around him, and he smashes his lips against yours.

You never thought it would feel like this, you'd heard mixed reviews but clearly none of them had ever experienced what it's like to have someone like him demonstrating their skill.

He's precise, a little shaky but only because he's concentrating on not literally cumming after two minutes. You're everything he's ever wanted and more, you're soaked and warm around him, chest pressed flush against his. Your hardened nipples threaten to distract him.

His hair tickles your forehead as he begins to create a steady pace. He's got one hand behind your right thigh, cupping it and hiking it up just the slightest bit while he fucks into you, curling his hips.

He swallows your moans, tasting the sense of surrealness on your tongue. He feels it too, groaning when you tug a tuft of his hair.

"You're mine, all mine, fuck." His voice is hoarse, hips stuttering as he begins to rock into you, not completely pulling himself out of you before nudging your cervix again. His mouth catches the edge of your jaw, then your earlobe.

He buries his face in your shoulder, and you wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against his hair as you keep yourself quiet. He can still feel the way you're shivering, the whispers of cries that are audible when you breathe.

"I'm yours, I'm yours." You're not sure you could ever feel this way about someone else, and not just because he is all that every single one of your senses seemed to be attuned to.

He's deep inside of you, reaching places you never would be able to by yourself, and still holds you like you're the entire world. Despite the need that consumes you both, he takes his time.

You feel him everywhere. On your neck, your throat, down to your clavicle where his hot tongue soothes over the mark he's just made.

You can almost feel him in your belly, the tip of his cock nudging the sweet spot of nerves deep within you causing your body to jerk in his hold. He takes note and is determined to drive you over the edge, knowing he's not going to last much longer.

He's yearned for it too long, and nothing his mind could have conjured up would ever compare again.

He lets go of your leg only to bring his hand to where your bodies are connected as one, your face contorted into a mask of pleasure as he begins to rub at your clit, in circular motions, with the same rythym as his thrusts.

"John, ohhh, you f-feel so good." You're slurring your words, high off of his affection. Your belly feels hot, a pressure just behind your navel leaving you writhing, trying to match his pace.

"Yeah? Feels good to have me inside of you?" He's being cruel now, already knowing the answer by the way tears are swelling in your eyes for the second time tonight, irisises shining back at him.

Your hands roam his sides, settling on his hips as you turn your face to hide it against his bicep. He kisses any expanse of skin that he can reach, till the wet spots leave a trail of chills along your body.

You're close, and he knows it. You're already leaking onto the bed, dripping down his shaft.

"J-John...p-please." You're blubbering now, and his fingers circle your clit faster, just enough to have you breathless and unable to speak as his strokes become inconsistent, cock throbbing.

"Shh, I got you baby, gonna make you cum okay? Want you to let go."

Looking up into his eyes, it's hard to resist. Suddenly it's the first time you've met and you're awestruck by his beauty all over again, by the sharp planes of his face that you'd come to realize are soft underneath your touch.

You're kissing him again for the first time, and his lips are as plush and pillowy as they look, his hands big and wsrm as they hold your face steady against his mouth.

You realize you're in love with him for the first time again, staring into honey colored irises and listening to his velvet voice, aware that when he's gone it feels like a piece of you has been taken along with him.

Your body suddenly stills, save for your back arching and his body, sturdy and whole, there to anchor you while you forget you breathe. Your orgasm is all the more powerful this time, with him inside of you, and it's like once youre unraveling it doesn't stop.

He holds the back of your head and allows you to muffle your cries against his chest, fingers latching onto any part of him you reach first, as if you might fall of the face of the earth. He's still rubbing your clit, whispering sweet encouragements in your ear.

You don't pick up all of it, only vaguely aware of the tremor in his tone as he says your name.

And then he's locked against you, every muscle in his body rigid and hard as a strained, muffled whimper resonates from beside your head. He's biting into a pillow, as warmth fills you to the brim and he sloppily fucks it into you.

You're still reeling, when he kisses you like someone who hasn't seen their lover in years and is finally getting the chance to touch them again, to wordlessly express how enamored they are. Wholeheartedly, and irreversibly.

He says it first, which surprises you, considering in your dreams you're always the one professing it to him, stroking his skin or petting his hair and whispering it in between kisses.

But you're sure this is real, you can feel ache in your bones, the throb of your centers where they're still connected.

"I love you." His voice is even more beautiful when he's speaking in such a simple, yet profound way. There's a quiver, but not because he's not being honest. He'd swear on his life, for his conviction.

"I love you too." You reply, looping your fingers round the nape of his neck, toying with the soft hair there.

Maybe he shouldn't be so shocked, but he is. His face can't hide it, the quirk of his full lips, the furrow of disbelief in his brow. You want to kiss his stupid face a thousand time over.

"I love you." He repeats it, as if the words bring forth sunshine on a day shrouded by the darkness of rain clouds.

He repeats it again, when he's hovering over your lips, breath warm against your skin. He repeats it again when he's placing kisses to your forehead, when you giggle and stroke his cheek.

"And I love you, silly silly man." You remind him, willing him by the longing in your voice, to believe it as you believe him.

He repeats it again, when a tear cascades down your cheek like a diamond shaped declaration of your honesty, and he kisses it away, claiming it for himself.

You love him, and he loves you.

And maybe, no matter what happens, that'll be enough.

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nothing-but-dreamy · 3 years

Text

HC: You telling Nyx you could imagine having a family with him

A/N: This is written gender neutral! It really suits everyone

Words: 1.390

Pairing: FFXV!NYX ULRIC x GENDER NEUTRAL!READER

Warnings: some angst; fluff

- Overall, Nyx would be both scared and happy when you tell him you would like to have a family with him; he just has problems to deal with the information properly

- back in Galahd, after finding the right person, Nyx would have settled down some day, raising a little family, being a loving, caring dad and husband; playing games with his kids and building a strong bond with his partner to challenge life together

- but now, things have changed; Nyx' home is destroyed and with it a bunch of his dreams he had had formerly

- then, you showed up in his life; turning grief into new hope; bringing back the color into some of the dreams that already have turned gray; you alone are a miracle; how it was possible for him to be this lucky; but you give him strength, safeness and love as he needed it the most

- one day, after you two were dating for a while, you admit that you can imagine having a family with him;

- Nyx is speechless; sure, he always was the family-type of guy but ... now? As a Glaive?

- because he doesn't respond, you take it as rejection; you feel disappointed because of his reaction but you disguise it with a smile that shall reassure him while you feel something break inside of you; not much, just a little bit like a tiny crack

- Nyx is the type of guy you always searched for but you never found until now; everything feels right and perfect and pretty early in your relationship, you already can imagine him with a child - your child - no matter how silly this picture was after this short of time, you could feel it was something you would like to have with him

- of course, you have considered his job as a Glaive, that was the reason why it took you so 'long' to bring up this idea, at all, knowing what his arguments would be

- but as Nyx stays silent, just staring at you, you know you did something wrong; you regret it, not just because you feel hurt, rather because you haven't considered the idea that it might be no topic for Nyx anymore after losing his whole family

- Nyx sees your sad expression and how you try to hide it with a smile before you change the topic quickly to brush the idea off as just something randomly

- but he knows it wasn't something random; he saw that you were serious with your idea; the thing was, you have taken him so much by surprise that he had no idea how to react properly because his mind went blank

- for him, as a Glaive, life could end quickly; to have you in his life was already luxury he wasn't sure if he should allow it to himself - but a family? That was a whole different level

- the night of the day you dropped the idea, Nyx can't sleep. At all. He lies next to you, watches you sleeping peacefully, beautiful and cute as always; this time, added to the question why he even deserves you, he also is pondering about your family idea

- of course, he can't get it out of his mind, he already loves the idea but he's still surprised that you would want that with him; he sees himself as far away from being perfect for that with all his nightmares and flashbacks; and still, you seem to see him as worthy

- but the main reason Nyx is still awake is because he can't forget your disappointed expression as he just had stayed silent; even in his own mind, it must have been the cruelest thing he could do to you

- so, even if it is just four in the morning, Nyx has to wake you up; he has to talk to you; to apologize; so, he strokes softly over the skin of your arm, slowly becoming a bit stronger in his moves to wake you up

"Wh-what's the matter?", you whisper sleepily, rubbing your eyes as you see Nyx' face in front of you.

"YN, I... Can we talk?", Nyx whispers softly.

"Talk? Now? It's the middle of the night, Nyx...", you point out before you close your eyes again to drift back to sleep.

Nyx shakes you once again, with more urgency in his voice, "Please, YN."

You yawn before you open your eyes slowly again, "Okay, okay, I'm awake. What is it?", you ask but as you see his insecure glance, your mind becomes quickly clearer.

"It's about earlier. As you... As you said you could imagine having a family with me-"

You cut him off, once again regretting saying it at all. But now, you also fear it might be a deal breaker for your relationship, "Oh, that... Yeah... Listen, Nyx, forget it.", you whisper, avoiding looking at him, fumbling with the blanket, "It was a stupid idea anyway mostly, because I haven't thought about your past. Please, just... Just don't break up with me because of what I have said.", you plead desperately.

Nyx watches you in shock. He had no idea that his silence would have had this kind of effect on you. So, Nyx cups your face with his hands, forcing you to look at him before he kisses you deeply to show you what he always failed to put into words. After that 'said', he leans back to look into your eyes, "I won't leave you. Never. I couldn't. I have no idea what I should do without you, YN."

You feel that tears are building in your eyes and you're too tired to stop them, "But you were mad. And I was thoughtless."

Nyx slides even closer to you, feeling how your hands are searching for him. As you embrace him strongly, he relaxes a little bit, knowing that you still trust him and what he will tell you, "I wasn't mad. I... I- I was scared.", he admits awkwardly.

You frown, searching something in his soft blue eyes but there is just honesty, "Scared? You were scared because of what?", you ask confused because Nyx got barely scared of something.

Nyx chuckles softly, "I'm still asking myself why I even deserve you and then you want a family with me? Considering everything, that would be too much to ask for for me. Even if I already fell in love with the idea. And beside that, what if I fail as a dad? What if I fail you? I mean, are you sure you want that with me? My life isn't steady enough. I'm already scared to lose you...", he breathes, resting his forehead against yours with closed eyes.

Your heart hammers in your chest by his words because he shows so much vulnerability like never before. But you also smile softly because this was him. No matter how good things are, no matter how sure he is that you stay with him he will always fight to keep you by his side. Slowly, you're tickling Nyx' neck to calm him, "You know, you would be a great dad. You already care so much about everyone around you. There's no way you could fail as a dad or me at all. And I... you don't have to be scared. I didn't mean to start a family right now. I just... for some time, I have this picture in my head and I thought it would make you happy to know that.", you explain softly, showing him the sweetest smile you can produce.

Nyx leans you back to crawl on top of you, "You have no idea how happy you make me with this idea. You make me happy and you know what? I'm already addicted to your idea. I would love to start a family with you. I'm sorry for making you sad.", he whispers before he kisses you longingly.

You are melting underneath him and suddenly, sleep is of no interest anymore. In this night, Nyx and you are sharing a different kind of love, a deeper one than ever before. Nyx takes his time to make it up to you for making you sad and you enjoy the affection this perfect man gives you, realizing that you are pretty fine with the fact that you don't have to share him anytime soon.

#final fantasy nyx ulric #ff15 nyx ulric #kingsglaive nyx #nyx ulric x reader #nyx ulric #male reader #female reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic #fluff #angst

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one-boring-person · 3 years

Text

Can You Do Me A Favour?

Barney Ross (The Expendables) x reader

Warnings: injury, drinking, sexual content implied, mentions of violence, swearing

Context: the reader is a member of the Expendables and has a crush on Barney. After a job, the two have some time together.

A/N: as promised, here is some Expendables stuff! I hope anyone who reads this will enjoy it! (Just a heads up: I have more Rambo and Escape Plan stuff coming, and most likely some more TLB content, too.)

Masterlist

(I'm also going to tag @yuhhhhhhhhhhhhhh in this, because they expressed interest in Expendables stuff earlier😊💛)

The cold water is pleasant on my heated skin as I cup my hands under the steady stream flowing from the tap, splashing it into my face when a suitable pool has formed in the space. A gasp escapes me from the stark contrast in temperatures, using my fingers to rub slightly at my skin, trying to work out the headache that has set in, only to hiss when I accidentally press into one of the new scars on the side of my face. Pulling back, I repeat my action, doing my best to distract myself from the plaguing thoughts in my head, still disgusted at myself for having them.

But even now, as I massage the contours of my face, I can't get the images of my boss out of my head. Not the sight of him taking out a ring of attackers using his revolver and sharpshooting skills, not the way his exposed arm muscles flexed with each movement, not the determined look on his rugged face and certainly not the fierce eye contact he made with me when he turned around again. At the mere memory of this, a flush of heat goes through me, eyes squeezing shut to force myself to blank them out, not quite realising that his stare is branded into my subconscious. Biting my lip, I shake my head, forcing down the picture of his muscular body and large hands on my body as he dragged me from the collapsing building, not five hours ago.

Growling, I reach over and grab hold of the beer bottle nearby, glancing at my haggard features in the mirror before taking a deep drink, wincing at the stale flavour, having had the drink for far too long. I can see the tension in my body, each muscle tight and uncomfortable, my posture ramrod straight and clearly wrong, my eyes clouded with exhaustion and what I can only assume is loneliness.

As soon as I'd gotten in from the last job, I'd headed straight into the bathroom, grabbing a beer from the fridge as I went, needing to clear my head. Nothing I did could help, my head always circling back to that one person. Frustrated, I slam the bottle on the counter top, wincing when it shatters from the force, a particularly sharp shard slicing into my palm.

Damn him. Damn Barney Ross for getting into my head.

I clean up my hand, just bandaging it up when my phone buzzes, the screen lighting up. Frowning, I look over at it, confused. Nobody calls me. Nobody, except my boss.

Picking up the phone, I groan to myself as I realise it is, in fact, Barney. For a second, I debate letting it go to voicemail, before I finally give in, accepting the call and placing the phone to my ear.

"Sir?" I greet him politely, wondering what he needs.

"How many times have I told you not to call me "sir"?" Barney's gravelly voice sounds through the phone, a low chuckle evident in his tone. I have to ignore the effect his voice has on me, the sound giving me butterflies in my stomach.

"Sorry, sir- ah, shit." I sigh at my own habit, "You alright?"

"Yeah, guess so. Just lonely. Figured you might be, too." He admits, tone going soft as he speaks.

"Bold of you to assume that." I tease, but continue, "Though you are, as always, right."

"Should tell Christmas that, might listen to you." The veteran laughs again, the joke drawing a similar reaction from me.

"We all know he listens to no one but himself." I quip back, still waiting for him to tell me why exactly he called.

"True, true." Barney's grin is almost audible, my mind instantly bringing up an image of that particular expression into my head, much to my chagrin, "You got any plans for tonight?"

Surprised, I take a second to reply, unsure of where this is going.

"No, it's too late. Ain't really got many friends outside work, anyway." I inform him, going out of the bathroom and into the lounge.

"Fancy coming over? I've got a couple of beers that need drinking, and the hangar is pretty lonely this time of night."

His offer stumps me for a moment, though I am quick to recover, my mouth working before my mind can catch up.

"Yeah sure. I'll be over in twenty."

"Great. See you then." He hangs up, leaving me wondering why the hell I accepted that, knowing how much I spend too much time thinking about him (in totally inappropriate ways considering he's my boss) anyway.

Annoyed at myself, I steel myself before going and grabbing a coat, pulling on that and my boots as I leave the flat, taking my motorcycle keys with me. I lock my door behind me, leaving the apartment block quickly, glad to have the fresh air on my face as I make my way over to my motorbike. Looking on it fondly, I climb on and kick out the stand, easily getting it revved up, the vibrating engine beneath me a pleasant feeling.

Thankfully, the roads are mostly clear this time of night, cutting the twenty minute drive short by five minutes as I go at speed through the nearly deserted outer city. The hangar is usually a pain in the ass to get to, the traffic in the roads leading up to it almost always horrific, so I am only too happy to be able to go much faster now that there's not many other drivers around. With the wind rushing around me, I find that my head clears a little, my attention on navigating the roads rather than the thoughts of my boss doing things to me I'm sure he'd find grotesque in nature.

I arrive quickly, pulling into the hangar slowly, knowing Barney is most likely in the plane, as he usually is. Stopping the bike, I put it in park before climbing off, hanging my helmet on the handlebars as I do so, taking the keys with me as I walk over to the old plane. Nearing the aircraft, I frown a little at the sight of the new bullet holes riddling the side of it, unaware that we'd taken so much damage earlier in the day. Sighing, I go inside, ducking in through the small door, only now hearing the music playing from the stereo in the cockpit.

"It's gonna need a new lick of paint." I call out to Barney, who I can see sat in his seat, the muscular man turning to look at me as he hears me.

"It's been a long time coming, so I'm not complaining." He replies, grinning at me as I walk into the cockpit, dropping into Christmas' usual seat, trying to ignore the butterflies in my stomach from his stare on me again. As I enter, he rakes his eyes over my body, subtly taking my every curve in from where he is.

"Fair enough." I shrug, leaning back slightly, having missed his look, "Got a beer?"

"Yeah, here." Barney hands me a bottle, opening it for me as he does so.

"Cheers." I thank him, taking a deep drink from it as he chuckles lowly, voice sending a bolt of heat through me.

"You're starting to sound like Lee." He remarks, sipping his own bottle with a smirk.

"Should I take that as a compliment? Or an insult?"

"Up to you." He looks over at me.

"Eh, I'll take compliment. You two get along like an old married couple, after all. Must mean something if you're comparing me to him." I decide, teasing him.

Barney laughs at my comment, lifting his bottle.

"I can agree with that." He hums, staring out of the front window.

For a couple of moments, we sit in companionable silence, drinking our beers, Barney eventually lighting a cigar. Taking a deep inhale, he offers it to me, which I decline, choosing to finish my drink instead.

"What do you usually do after a job?" Barney suddenly asks, glancing back at me.

Surprised, I think over the question for a second.

"Nothing, really. I get myself cleaned up, have a drink, then get some sleep. I don't do much else with my life." I tell him, knowing how pathetic I sound.

"What, you haven't got anyone you can hang out with?" He questions, seemingly confused.

"No. As I said before, I don't really have any friends outside work."

"Really? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?"

I shake my head, grimacing at the turn in conversation, just missing the slight darkening in his eyes as he looks me over once more.

"Huh. That surprises me."

Lifting an eyebrow, I look across at him.

"Why?"

He shrugs, making eye contact with me.

"Well, you seem like the person who wouldn't struggle to make friends. You're kind, funny, pretty. You know how to behave in the right situations, you're a good friend to have." He clarifies, seemingly unaware of the impact his words have on me, my heart throbbing as I listen to him, longing building up in me again.

"You think so?" I ask, not quite believing him.

"Yeah, I do." He frowns, looking over at me, "Why, don't you?"

I don't reply, knowing my answer well. He doesn't push it, observing me carefully, his gaze making me blush furiously.

"What'd you do to your hand?" The veteran suddenly asks, gesturing to my bandaged appendage.

"Hm? Oh, I just cut it on some glass back home." I inform him, flexing my hand a little, only to wince at the sharp spike of pain.

Wordlessly, Barney reaches across and takes my hand in his, his touch setting off sparks through me despite the gentle nature of it. Pulling my arm closer to him, he runs his fingers lightly over my skin, the rough calluses rubbing over the palm of my hand, each stroke making it harder for me to fight off the rising need within me. Being this close to him, able to smell him in nearly every surface around me, feeling his hand on mine has sparked the feelings I've been suppressing as long as I've worked with him.

Awkwardly, I pull away, swallowing tightly, trying to suppress the urges I'm suddenly feeling, needing to get myself together again. He doesn't stop me, his dark eyes regarding me quietly, observant as always as he seemingly considers something, his gaze sliding over me once more. After a moment, he puts out his cigar, leaning back in his seat.

"Mind doing me a favour?" The muscular man cocks his head at me, a small smirk playing at his lips.

"Er, sure? What do you need?" I agree hesitantly, knowing that expression means only one thing: he's got something up his sleeve.

"Check that control panel up there, would you? It's been giving me trouble for weeks." Barney's eyes are glittering now in the dim light, clearly up to something.

"What, now?" I frown, confused by the instruction.

"If you wouldn't mind."

Lifting an eyebrow, I place my beer down and get to my feet, awkwardly reaching up to check the panel, which just so happens to be right above his head. I try to keep my body from leaning across him too much, but this is made difficult when I realise that the particular problem lies in the switches even further over. As I go to flick them, a pair of hands takes hold of my waist, suddenly yanking me down towards the chair.

Yelping in surprise, I feel my eyes widen as Barney pulls me down onto his lap, hands tight on my hips, pressing my back flush against his chest. His nose instantly finds my neck, the older man nudging at my skin until I tilt my head to give him access, goosebumps spreading across my skin as I try to process what the hell is happening, my brain short-circuiting with every one of his breaths. They fan out over the sensitive area, my own hitching in my throat as his scruff scratches over my skin, his lips not quite touching me yet, though I can feel their every movement.

I try to get back up, unwillingly, only for him to loop one of his arms around my front and slip his hand under my shirt, flattening his palm on my stomach to hold me against him.

"I'm not blind, you know, (Y/n). I've seen the way you look at me, the way you behave differently when you're with me. You're not as subtle as you hope." Barney practically purrs into my skin, his smirk obvious against my neck, sending shivers down my spine as I try not to groan.

"I- I don't know what you're talking about, sir." I manage out, not quite catching the sound of anticipation that escapes me when he suddenly presses his lips against my ear, whispering into it.

"Really? I think you know very well what I'm talking about." He grins to himself, the hand on my stomach running down to ghost over the waistband of my jeans, my body tensing in his grip, "Want me to demonstrate for you?

#the expendables #The expendables imagine #Barney Ross #Barney Ross x reader #Barney Ross imagine #Sylvester Stallone

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anystalker707 · 3 years

Text

You wish (2/2)

Part 1

Pairing: Frank Iero x [non-binary, afab] Reader Word counting: ~ 4 000 Genre: Smut / Enemies to lovers Summary: After finding out they have feelings for each other, (y/n) lets Frank drive them home to spend the night together.

Requested on Wattpad

The night is agitated, but ends up going by relatively fast. Even with having sorted things out between us, Frank and I don't talk a lot – our interaction is limited by us sharing looks now and then while I work and either smiling at each other or blushing and laughing.

One of Frank's bandmates approaches him at some point, asking him about leaving. When I understand what is going on, I can feel my heart tightening in my chest and even pause the drink I'm preparing, unable to tear my attention away from the two. Frank shakes his head, muttering something I can't understand, but it doesn't seem like he will be standing up due to how he leans forward on the counter. A relieved sigh escapes my lips with it and I end up just falling back to reality when Frank turns to look at me – I'm the one to blush this time, quickly returning to shaking the drink before pouring it in the glass.

"God fucking finally!" Pete's voice echoes through the empty club when the doors are closed and only the staff – and Frank – is left. Frank and I can't help but to laugh.

"I'll be right back," I tell Frank and walk to the back room, grabbing my things. I actually stand there for a moment, thinking about everything that happened, and I can't hold back a chuckle at it, burying my face in my hands as feeling it heating up. Lowering my hands, I see Pete there, staring at me with the widest grin on his face and sending me a look. "Shut up." I narrow my eyes at him, becoming impossibly more flustered.

"I didn't even say anything!" He throws his hands in the air in a defensive manner.

"You were thinking!" I playfully punch his arm when walking by, making him chuckle, and throw my bag over my shoulder. "Bye, Pete!" I walk out of the room and am surprised by Frank standing by the doorway, but just nod towards the exit.

It's cold outside, making me chill despite my jacket shielding me from most of the cold air that embraces us in the moment we step out of the place through the back door. There aren't many people around and it's not a surprise, judging by how late it currently is. Almost fucking three in the morning. Quite relaxing, actually, if you ask me.

I'm about to start making my way down the street when I feel Frank tugging me back by the back of my jacket. "My car," he says and I groan in response despite turning to walk towards the other direction, following him. He breathes a chuckle and looks at me with a small pout, glancing at my lips. I roll my eyes before pecking his lips. It makes him grin pleased and wrap an arm around me to pull me closer and I can't help but to chuckle.

Frank opens the door for me and I playfully glare at him as getting in, thankful that it's warmer in the car. "You're being too nice, Iero!"

"Invested in getting some ass!" he calls on his way over to the other side and I snort a laugh, bringing a hand up to cover my face; I can also hear him laughing as getting in. "Where to, love?" He starts the car and glances at me, pulling up to the road.

"Down the main street, green building right next to a bakery," I tell him, adjusting my bag by my feet. He mutters something in response and I hum, observing him for a moment before I look back, seeing a guitar case across the back seats and it makes me remember of Mikey telling me that Frank plays the guitar, what also gives me a vague memory of him saying he, Frank and Gerard are in a band together with another guy. Cool. I might ask them about it later.

I sigh as leaning back against the seat and observing Frank again; he must sense it because he glances at me, raising an eyebrow. "You do walk for quite a bit, huh?"

"'M used to it." I shrug. It's not like it's a walk longer than fifteen minutes, but once in a while I get a lift or come by car. This is not relevant, nonetheless. My eyes wander around the car for a moment and I can't help but to smirk a bit to myself as having an idea; I reach a hand to touch his thigh.

Frank is about to say something when the touch makes his breath hitch in his throat and tense up. He remains silent as, with the lack of complaints, I let my hand wander further into the inside of his thigh and he tenses up again in the same moment his cheeks turn red and he tries to hold back a sound, but I can still faintly listen to it.

"(Y/n)," he mutters under his breath.

I hold back a chuckle, grinning. "What? Do you like this?" I slip my hand under his shirt and follow along the waistband of his pants. He's grumbling to himself until a groan escapes his lips with my fingers slipping past the waistband of his boxers.

"I'm driving, (y/n)!" He sounds so desperate, almost a whine, that I can't help but finally to let out a chuckle, shaking my head to myself as I pull my hand away, muttering about how funny his reaction was – it earns me a playful glare as the bright red tone continues taking over his cheeks and his pants clearly start to tent up.

Soon enough, the car comes to a stop and he looks at me like if waiting for something, but all I do is to leave the car and start walking towards the building. I can hear the car door throwing shut seconds; Frank shows up by my side seconds later. I fish my keys from inside the bag as I start walking up the stairs. We climb the steps fast, with a shared urgency; Frank has his hands in front of his crotch just in case we run into someone. His expectant gazes are obvious – I can see him looking at me from the corners of my eyes –; however, I act like if nothing was happening with the pure intention of seeing his reaction and the frustration that manifests itself through his tense silence is certainly entertaining.

I'm suddenly thankful for having decided to clean my apartment earlier today. I leave my shoes by the door after closing it behind us, locking it again, and Frank takes the hint to do the same while I put my bag away.

Whatever Frank was going to tell me, the words are lost due to how I press my lips to his without any warning, cupping his face. It takes him a few seconds to kiss back, sharing the same urgency as I do and parts his lips after feeling my tongue gliding along his bottom lip. His hands eventually wrap themselves around my hips, grip slowly becoming tighter around them, until slipping under my shirt and letting his thumbs rub circles into the bare skin. He suddenly pulls me closer to him, closing the space between us, making a sigh escape my lips with it.

"C'mon," I mutter against his lips as starting to walk back towards my room. None of us want to let go, what results in us stumbling down the hall while sharing messy kisses that don't really last for longer than five seconds. We chuckle quietly when we almost trip on our feet, thankfully able to hold onto the wall before losing our balance.

I step back into my bedroom and turn the lights on, watching Frank follow – he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth, nibbling down on it lightly while watching me discarding my jacket.

"Damn, babe," he says in a low and hoarse voice, taking a step closer. I hum softly against his lips, taking his bottom lip between mine, but we're soon forced to interrupt it to get rid of my shirt and I move to do the same to his, smiling as I place my hands on his shoulders and push him back to sit down on the bed. His eyes follow every movement of mine as Frank pushes himself further down the bed and I climb on top of it, only stopping when I'm straddling his lap.

Frank hums softly and presses a kiss to my stomach before I finally allow myself to sit down, and I lock our lips again, what makes him groan again, giving my thighs a squeeze. His calloused fingertips are rough against my skin while his hands trail up my torso, their warmth making little bumps rise in my skin with them wandering around until fidgeting with the hem of my bra.

I open my eyes lightly after breaking the kiss, meeting his gaze, though still letting our lips linger together as I nod and move to help him with taking it off, throwing it to the floor just like we did with our shirts.

Before Frank can do anything, I place my hands on his chest to slowly push him back against the mattress and take my moment to observe his tattoos, letting my fingers trace some of them but the urgency doesn't let me take too long with it and I'm soon leaning down. I peck his lips and press kisses on my way down to his neck, nibbling and sucking lightly on the skin when I finally stop. His throat vibrates against my cheek with the sounds I snatch from him with it, also letting one of my hands wander around his torso absentmindedly.

"Fuck, (y/n)," he mutters, interrupted by a moan when I let my hand wander too low down his body. I can't help but to chuckle against his skin as moving to a spot by the base of his neck while slipping my hand in his pants, palming him lightly through his boxers.

He lets me do palm him for a moment until he starts becoming impatient at noticing I won't go any further than that, pushing his hips up, another moan escaping his lips with it. "Fuck— Stop teasing," he breathes, bringing a hand to my head to make me pull away so I can see his glare. I chuckle.

Moving away from Frank, I bring myself back up to undo my pants and remove them along with my underwear while Frank, after spending a moment observing me, does the same.

Frank smiles a bit at me as he presses his lips to mine once again, being the one to make me lie back down on the mattress, taking my bottom lip between his teeth and nibbling down on it while he adjusts his position between my legs, hand grazing my thigh lightly. I let out a pleased groan, gasping when I feel one of his hands around my breast, massaging it lightly. "Fuck," I mutter, tangling my fingers with his hair.

His eyes meet mine while he pecks my lips before he starts to give attention to my collarbones, teeth gently pulling on the skin as he balances the pressure just right between the pain and the pleasure and I sigh softly with it, leaning my head back as letting him.

Another curse escapes my lips as I feel Frank trailing down, loving the sensation of his lips against my chest and then trailing down my stomach until a bite on my hip has me moaning and arching my back lightly. He chuckles, giving my thighs a squeeze, pressing kisses to my skin in his way back up.

"Hey, babe," he mutters against my lips and I hum softly, feeling his hand trailing up my thigh and diving into the inside of it – I tense up as feeling his hand becoming dangerously close to my heat, just to be left in frustration with it trailing down in the last second. "Why don't you show me what that pretty mouth can do, hm?" His nose brushes against mine softly and he pecks my lips, humming questioningly.

A chill runs down my spine at the thought and I'd squeeze my thighs together if I could, nodding. I pull Frank closer with an arm around his neck, pressing my lips to his as using my free arm to push myself up while he does the same, pulling me along with him.

The kiss is messy, with us trying to know where we are going without breaking it, trying to make it up to our needs at the same time.

We only step apart once up to our feet and Frank's dark, lust filled eyes follow me as I drop to my knees and look up at him, wrapping a hand around him and moving it in an agonizingly slow pace, free hand resting on his thigh. "It's so amusing seeing you like this, y'know?" I grin. "Every time we talked, I thought you wanted to jump on my throat or watch me choke and die," I chuckle, watching it as Frank is torn out between the annoyance and the pleasure, a breath caught in his throat.

A shaky exhale escapes Frank's nose as he has his lips pressed together in a thin line. "Why don't you do something better with that pretty mouth of yours, huh?" He raises an eyebrow at me and takes a hold of my jaw, fingers digging into the skin in a manner that I can't help but to open my mouth with a groan. "Like that..." He mutters quietly as guiding himself past my lips.

I raise an eyebrow at Frank, unamused, but he seems more focused on watching himself as he mutters something under his breath and, out of revenge, I hollow my cheeks out of sudden as taking all of him into my mouth, what has a sudden moan escaping his lips, tensing up simultaneously.

"Fuck," Frank says in a high-pitched tone, voice tight, as I can feel his hands on the back of my head, tugging lightly on my hair as pushing his hips forward. His breath hitches, and a moan follows suit whilst I start moving my head, looking up at him and it's honestly fun seeing that punk posture turning into something completely different now. I take a hold of his dick, swirling my tongue around his tip and humming around him, entertained by how he gasps and tenses up with it.

"You—" He is never able to finish his sentence with how I suck on the tip before slowly inching down his length and hollowing my cheeks once again, trying to control my gag reflex once I reach the base.

The mix of precum and drool that had been pooling down in the corners of my lips finally start trailing down my chin when I decide to stop teasing and move my head in a decent rhythm that has moans coming from him steadily. "So..." Frank breathes, interrupted by a moan, pushing his hips forward lightly and trying to build a rhythm with it. "So fucking beautiful, love," he groans, making me pull off before he pushes back into my mouth and I can see the exact moment in which his release starts building because of the fucking expression on his face when he sees the look I sent him.

"Fuck," he gasps, "hold on, hold on," he cries, biting down on his lip although making me pull away. My lips part into a grin as I watch him throwing his head back and squeezing his eyes shut while he holds onto the base of his dick for a moment, breathing heavily, certain pride swelling in my chest.

I stand up and Frank notices it. "Get on the bed," he tells me as wrapping his hands around my hips and I raise an eyebrow at him.

"No, no, you're not the only one getting all the fun!" I glare and take a step back to sit down on the edge of the bed. "C'mon, I want you on your knees," I say as pointing to the ground, and watch it as his cheeks gain a red tone again, but he does as I said, nonetheless. "What a pretty boy," I tease as cupping his face and making him lean his head up so I can press a kiss to his lips – he hums with it, placing his hands firmly on my thighs, moving closer and pulling them apart.

"And who do you think you are to talk to me like that?" He sticks his bottom lip out, looking at me up and down with a disdain that has me snorting, rolling my eyes.

"All barking, but no biting, huh?" I smirk a bit as running my fingers through his hair. "I only see you complaining."

Frank's eyes narrow at me, but a verbal response never comes as he sits back on his legs and I hum softly with feeling his hot breath over my sensitive parts, biting down on my lip.

In an opposite to the teasing I expected, Frank presses his mouth to my folds forcefully, tongue slipping out and parting them in a way he licks up from my entrance to my clit and makes a shiver run down my spine as I pull onto his hair out of reflex, snatching a groan from him.

"Damn, Frank," I groan as pulling him closer with my grip on his hair.

Crescent marks are left behind as Frank sinks his fingers in my thighs to a point his short nails dig in and he adjusts his grip on them before it happens again and his tongue is just working so well, wandering around before finding its way up to my clit. A breathy moan escapes my lips with it, interrupted by a gasp at the feeling of him sucking on it then he's pulling away, just to dive back in, tongue flicking against the bundle of nerves in a way I can feel the arousal starting to pool down in my lower stomach.

"Hell— Frank, damn," I breathe, not caring about how desperate my voice sounds because it just feels so good. The moans almost escape my lips without me being able to control it and I grip at Frank's hair, tugging on it lightly and pulling him closer at the feeling of the vibrations his groans cause and I'm practically melting under his touch as he voluntarily sinks his face deeper, in a way I need to hold myself back from rocking my hips.

"S-Stop," I stutter as letting go of his hair and tapping his shoulder lightly, feeling myself getting dangerously close to my release. He does pull away and licks his lips as looking up at me and it genuinely doesn't really help. I groan as breathing heavily.

Once I'm able to recompose myself enough, I glance back as moving to the middle of the bed, what seems to be an immediate invitation for Frank to follow me, soon hovering over me and pressing his lips to mine. The taste isn't exactly the best thing, but it's just a detail under all the arousal that makes the room's atmosphere so thick along with all the need and urgency we share.

"Goddamn it," Frank mutters as pulling away. "Fucking— Hold on," he says and pecks my lips a last time before he moves to grab his pants from the ground and comes back with a condom in hand. He kneels down between by legs as he rips the wrapper open with his teeth before sliding the condom on and there we are again, lips pressed against each other in the most urgent kiss so far, with his hands gripping tightly at my hips while I can feel him against the inside of my thigh.

"Hurry up, dumbass," I tell him, biting down on his bottom lip and pulling on it lightly, while throwing my arms around his neck.

"So impatient, fucking hell," he curses under his breath, both of us gazing at each other through half-lidded eyes.

"So slow, fucking hell. Do you need instructions, sweetheart?" I mock and he rolls his eyes, but I'm soon sighing softly with the feeling of him against my entrance. Both of us let out a quiet moan at the feeling of him slipping in, slowly, grip gradually becoming tighter around my hips, and more moans are slipping from my throat as he doesn't even give me a moment to adjust, starting to move his hips.

"Still slow, sweetheart?" Frank asks sarcastically against my lips and I groan, pulling lightly at the hair on the back of his neck, only to snatch throaty moan from him.

"Fuck you," I say and pause because of a moan, "shut up and do your job." I bring him down to press our lips together again while wrapping my legs around his hips, moaning at the change of angle.

Frank does seem to take my words as the next snap of his hips has me gasping as pulling away, throwing my head back and arching my back at his harsher thrusts and how he seems to shift around until finding the angle that has more sounds spilling from my lips. My exposed neck is an immediate call for Frank and I can soon feel his mustache and stubble ticking against the skin at how he starts pressing kisses and nibbling softly on it, what adds up to the pleasure.

Due to the previous play, it's no new that it doesn't take long for us to get close to releasing. My nails dragging up Frank's back probably leave marks that I'll be tracing later, whereas it won't be much different regarding how he gripped on my hips and now one of his hands hold onto my thigh, fingers sinking into the skin, while using his free one to hold himself up.

"Fuck, (y/n)—" Frank breathes, bringing his mouth to next to my ear and hearing all the moans that come from him makes the knot in my lower stomach even tighter. "'M close, love," he groans.

"Me— Me too," I manage to say.

Frank pauses for a moment to adjust his position, probably so he can have more support, but it's completely worth it; he starts moving again, the new position allowing his thrusts to be heavier and faster and also allowing him to slip his hand between us and the feeling of his thumb rubbing furiously against my already abused clit has me tightening around him and moaning his name as coming before I can realize, nails sinking in his back as my mind goes momentarily blank.

"Frank— Frank, fuck," I whine softly as holding tightly onto him and I can feel my thighs quivering around him with it.

A loud, deep groan comes from Frank as his hips start to stutter and his moans turn into nonsense mumbled against my skin, his grip on my thigh becomes tighter, but all it does is to snatch another pleased sigh from me. He is breathing heavily when he pulls away, muttering something as he discards the condom and soon comes back.

"Damn," Frank breathes, resting his head on my chest and pressing a kiss to it, "'sure hope it wasn't a one-night thing, huh," he says in a serious tone and I can't help but to smile.

"Of course not," I tell him with a hum, still breathing heavily. I can feel the tiredness already falling over me. "Only if you aren't an asshole anymore," I tease, what makes him groan playfully; I smile and pull his hair back, pressing a kiss to his nose.

"I know where you live, (y/n), think better about it," he jokes and I can't help but to laugh.

"Fuck you and shut up, 'm tired," I tap his shoulder lightly. A groan comes from him, but he does relax against me with a sigh, pressing his face to my neck.

#frank iero #smut #x reader #reader insert #fanfic #fan fiction #frank iero imagine #mcr #mcr imagine #mcr x reader #mcr smut #emo #emocore #mikey way #gerard way #ray toro #imagine #my post

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crowtrinkets · 3 years

Text

A World Knowing You Aren’t in it

Prompt request from @mouselungs

*forehead kiss* ty for that sweet sweet angst

I wrote this at 1-2 am after watching a sad movie so uh yea I take my angst v seriously lol

Gender Neutral Pronouns for Apprentice, He/They Pronouns for Asra

Word Count: 2,208

I push my way into my shop, unwrapping my scarf from around my face. I take a deep slow breath of the not-so-fresh air mixed with dust and magical goods long since past their expiration. Wearing face coverings, just to go shopping in the market is necessary but I can't help but miss the days I could breathe in the fresh scents of spices and my favorite pumpkin bread without worry of getting sick.

"Asra? I'm back," I call out. I hear thumping traveling from the second floor and down the steps. A cloud of fluffy white hair pokes out from behind a curtain.

"Welcome home," he gives me a warm smile to which I return with my own.

"They were out of potatoes, something about merchants being scared of trade with Vesuvia," I follow them back up the stairs carrying my basket, sparse with groceries.

"I can't say I blame them," Asra mumbles to themself. I only hum in response, not wanting to push this topic further.

Asra has talked about leaving many times, but we had yet to do so, if we had the means we could but, there's no money in magic that can't heal a plague. Placing my basket on the counter of our kitchenette I pull out the food items I bought. Asra snatches an apple and bites into it but then grimaces.

"This apple is soft, like it's been left out," he goes to throw out the apple but I catch his arm.

"Don’t throw it out, if they're too soft I could make a cobbler or something out of them," taking the apple from Asra's hand I place it in a bowl with the other fruit I purchased.

"Oh, but they were out of sugar… maybe they're sweet enough on their own?" I mumble to myself.

"There's no need to go back out just for sugar, I'm sure we'll manage without it," Asra says with a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. They grab the lettuce I pulled from the basket out of my hand.

"Why don't I put these away while you go take a bath hmm? Wash the city air off of you," I give Asra a short nod and head off to the bathroom to wash up.

Suddenly feeling the weight of my day, running all the possible errands I can at once, so I am exposed less to the outside. I grab a towel from our tiny linen closet and pass by to give Faust chin scratches.

"Have you been bundled up here all day?" I question. She only responds by slithering closer so she can lean into my scratches. Her movement causes a blanket to fall, revealing a pile of books under it. My curiosity is piqued and I pick one up to read its cover. "Nopal Desert" it reads. I pick a map that was underneath it, depicting the better part of Vesuvia and surrounding territories. Nopal circled in ink. I hear Asra humming while he opens and closes the cabinets in the other room. I elect to bring it up after my bath.

The water is hot, almost too hot for my liking, but its burn soothes me in a way. Making me feel something other than the heavy burden that lays on the whole city's shoulders. I let myself sink down until the water cradles my head. Curling up so my whole body is submerged. I stare at the ceiling, watching the steam from the bath slowly rise, allowing condensation to sit on the wooden beams. I didn't bother to open the window so the bathroom could stay dry. I'll do that afterward. The water cups my ears, muffling the already quiet streets outside. My mind travels back to the books and maps I saw earlier. Was Asra trying to get us to leave? I explained in the past that I can't afford to pay rent on my shop and pay rent in a whole new area. Vesuvia is unsafe but the shop is my home, my lively hood. I can't give it up. I lie there, pondering and contemplating until the water has become lukewarm. My body aches after laying in the tub for far too long. After drying off my body and getting dressed I exit the bathroom, not bothering to stop my hair from dripping all over me.

I walk towards my bed, finding the books and maps, untouched, and staring at me. I let out a frustrated sigh and collect the items.

I walk into the kitchen to find Asra nursing a cup of tea, and gazing out the window. They haven't noticed me yet. His eyes stare longingly out at the night sky. Sad and distant. I quietly approach and gently place the items on the table. Asra looks up at me in surprise. Neither one of us talks for a while. I clear my throat.

"What are these?" I motion to the map with the large black circle around the words that very obviously do not say Vesuvia. Asra places his cup down and fully faces me.

"Well I thought we could… stay there, I've heard the plague isn't present there and we could go, we could be safe and not have to worry about wearing face coverings just to go shopping," Asra's demeanor becomes meek the more he talks. I let out a sigh and collapse into the nearest chair.

"Asra I told you, I can't afford to keep my shop if I'm not here to work in it,"

"I can help you!" Asra says, straightening a little. "I-I've been painting masks to raise money, and we could go to Nopal for a few months, I could sell masks out there and you can have a makeshift shop in the desert," Asra reaches for my hand, taking it and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. I give him a tired look.

"Asra, it's not that I doubt that you couldn't help me pay, it's just… Vesuvia is my home, our home, and I can't just leave at the drop of a hat like you," Asra winces and pulls away.

"Who knew you thought so little of me," he mumbles. I mentally kick myself for my choice of words.

"I'm sorry that’s not what I meant," I bring my head into my palm and lean my elbow on the table.

"What I'm trying to say is this is my home and I want to protect it so… I've decided I want to study medicine, to help with the plague," I look up to meet Asra's eyes. Their face pales and they sit back in their chair.

"Oh," is all he manages to say. I sit up fully and bring my hands into my lap, wringing them nervously together.

"I could use my magic to help too, and I want to be able to help the people, just like I did when I had people coming by regularly for magical ailments," I try to say something, anything to get Asra to stop looking at me the way he is. Scared, confused, frustrated, maybe even a little mad. He suddenly rises, his chair squeaking along the floor as it's pushed back.

"Asra please," I say barely above a whisper. Asra walks over the kitchenette and paces before turning to me, expression full of pain.

"That… That’s a terrible idea," he says. I suddenly feel taken aback.

"What wanting to help?" I say. Asra's face twists.

"You'll get sick, you'll… You will get hurt, you won't be safe!" he exclaims, starting to pace once again.

"There are people dying Asra I can't just sit around and let it happen! I want to do something, we can do something, we're both magicians!" I rise from my chair so I can fully face Asra as he frantically paces and runs his hands through his hair.

"How are we supposed to survive then, being exposed every day?" Asra looks me in the eye, his expression one of distress.

"Asra we're barely getting by as is," I motion to the bowl of fruit that I was organizing earlier. "The food isn't fresh, we have to go shopping all in one day so we don't risk exposure, and I am barely scraping by with my rent on the shop!" I let out an exasperated huff, folding my arms.

"I told you I would help you, I can sell masks, I can do fortune-telling just not here," Asra enunciates that last word by sharply pointing to the ground to make their point.

"I want to help, Asra… I want to be here," I shift awkwardly in place looking down at my feet. A lump begins to form in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Asra approaches me and places his hands on my forearms in an attempt to soothe me.

"Please, we can't stay here, let's just leave to where it's safe," He pleads, barely above a whisper. I slowly shake my head. Asra leans into me, trying to look into my eyes. His violet eyes, specked with tears in the corners.

"Why don't I help the people here? A-and you can stay home and make money off your painted masks," I say meeting his eyes.

"No, no no no," Asra begins to speak over me. He pulls away and faces his back to me, running his hands across his face.

"Asra I can't force you to stay here but you can't force me to leave," I say making my voice stern, hoping he understands my point. Asra quickly whips around tears falling down his face.

"Then how am I supposed to protect you!" he shouts. My breath hitches and I take a step back, my calves hitting the chair I was previously sitting on. The room grows eerily silent from his out burst.

"You can't protect me from everything, especially not this," I say, my own tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, I can! If you would just listen to me and leave! We could be safe," he approaches me, hands reaching out to me. I put my own hand up, stopping him from getting closer.

"Asra, I've made up my mind about this I'm not going anywhere," my chest aches, I want to leave with him, I want to leave because I'm scared. But I know I can help these people and I can't let my fears stop me.

"Please, you'll die," his voice cracks.

"If it saves the lives of even just a few people, then maybe was worth it,"

"No, you are too important to me!" they plead.

"Asra I have made up my mind! Nothing you can say will change it!" my volume begins to rise. Asra pleads my name and approaches once again gently grabbing my hands.

"Please it will kill you,"

"Asra..." my heart pounds in my chest.

"I can't live in a world knowing you aren't in it!"

"No Asra!" tears form in my eyes and my voice starts to crack.

"You will die-"

"Then death is better than this life we are living!" I shout. I didn't mean to. But I became so overwhelmed my temper flared-up. Asra takes a step back, releasing my hands.

"Is that how you feel," he says. I can't bring myself to answer, the lump in my throat has grown 3 times in size, swallowing my voice. "Very well," Asra turns away from me. Grabbing various clothing items as he goes. He disappears around a corner and I can hear him rummaging. I take in a painful deep breath. Wiping my tears as they fall. Asra comes back in with a bag, shoving items inside angrily, my eyes are too cloudy to fully see what he's doing but I can tell.

He's packing to leave.

"Asra," I croak. "Where are you going?" my voice comes out pathetically, as I try to compose myself. But my heart races in my chest. Asra ignores my question and continues to put items in multiple bags. All his clothes, his trinkets, their books. Anything they can carry.

"Asra please," I drag my feet as I try to follow him, but I can't stop the waterfall of tears escaping me.

Asra finally stops in the middle of the room, passing me. He has multiple bags on both shoulders. I stand at the hallway entrance and watch him. Faust quickly slithers out from behind me, Asra crouches allowing her to climb up his arm. He takes his hat off the hook and places it on his head. I stumble towards him reaching out.

"Asra I'm… I'm so-" their eyes meet mine, cold, angry, pained. I stop in my tracks

"This is the grave you made yourself, I will not be there to watch you get buried," he says. His voice cracking. Without another word, Asra turns and goes down the stairs and into my shop.

I can only gawk in silence, in disbelief that he actually left. The wall-shaking slam of the door breaks me from my shock. I grip the fabric of my top, just over my heart. Feeling as though it has broken in two. I sink to the floor and sob, harder than I ever have because a piece of my heart has left me.

#the arcana #the arcana game #apprentice and asra #the arcana asra #the arcana apprentice #the arcana fic #the arcana fanfic #fanfic #fanfic request #asra alnazar #the arcana faust #crow writes

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slashxrose · 3 years

Text

•Slash Imagine ~

Name: cannot resist you.

Posted on: Wattpad (user: Slashxrose)

Warnings: unprotected sex, dirty talking, gagging.

Narration: first person.

Summary: you couldn't wait till Slash stops working, everything you wanted was him between your legs so you try to caught his attention until he couldn't resist you.

Narrator:

The click of her heels perks her husband's ears up with instinctive interest, but nothing else as he focuses on the task at hand. It's now late at night and the need for him to be in bed next to her is unyielding.

I saunter over to Slash for the third time tonight, my hand skimming the edge of the mahogany while observing his taut posture. I watch as his hands go to work, admiring the sinewy dance they make. The veins atop his hands scatter throughout, his tendons flexing as his wrist flicks while writing. Wear and tear decorate his hands beautifully, showing his proud age with scars and wrinkles. Long, masculine fingers grip the white and gold fountain pen I gifted him with such elegance, it almost makes me jealous of the pen. The gold adorning his fingers glistens under the only light source in the room, a stained-glass lamp on his desk.

Slash's eyes slyly shift over my form as I marvel at his hands, observing the lack of clothes I have on. My body is on full display under a sheer black babydoll set. White-hot arousal rises from his gut to his chest as he rakes over my bare breasts, honing in on the hard peaks of my nipples. Lower and lower, he inspects the translucency of my panties, he can see everything. He inhales irritably, wishing I wouldn't be right in front of him looking so appetizing when he has work to do.

"I'm busy," he says sternly, without looking at me.

My husband knows where this is going and in the back of his mind, he doesn't care. Ignoring his statement, I maneuver into his lap so that I'm facing him. He sighs as he has no choice but to look at me now. Nostrils flaring, eyebrows scrunching, he scowls me with another elongated sigh.

I situate my center over his crotch and his heart rate speeds up. Slash quickly pushes my torso against his own, almost as if he's trying to hide my face from his view. My head rests against his shoulder, unable to see his face as the hand at my upper back tells me to stay put with a strong force. Wrapping my arms around him, I hug him tightly while my hips start to slowly rotate over him. Immediately, my breathing is heavy against his ear, the blissful friction sliding across my clit, is amazing even over the thick material of his pants.

Slash gulps and fixates on a sentence he can't seem to read, too engrossed as he can feel how wet I am with the glide against his clothed cock. Gasps turn into low moans, my lower half rubbing him faster as he hardens underneath my barely-there panties. My slick splits my folds, causing the thick of him to nestle between my inner labia.

"But I want you." I say in a whisper.

His broad chest heaves, his breathing becoming heavy. My breasts squish against him, every inhale and exhale are felt with immense detail, and he can't help but be absorbed in it. Slash's brown eyes snap up to the chiming clock above the door ahead, signaling midnight has arrived. Stress plagues him all the while I'm taking it away. Time continues to slip his grasp, as does the pen in his hand. Clearing his throat, he tries to carry on with his efforts.

But I lean back and hastily unzip his pants. My meek hands reach beneath his boxers, feeling his hotness before pulling him out. Hot and hard, his thick cock stands with a curve in my hand. Resting at a high position, I hold him still while nudging away my panties. Slash rolls his full lips between his teeth with anticipation of what's to come, desire riddling his entire body. Rolling my hips upwards, my clit skims the ridge lining the underside of his length before I glide back down with the innermost wetness of my pussy.

"Oh, my damn god." I moan, clutching onto one of his shoulders tight to maintain stability.

Now breathing out of his mouth, he lets out a whisper of a groan as I paint his cock with my essence. My hand begins to massage his swollen tip, spreading the leaking precum. Shutting his eyes, he savors the sublime attention of my slippery fingers and wet pussy.

With a higher ascend, I suddenly spear myself on his shaft with a penetrating whine. Gravity pulls me toward his base with a sting to my stretching walls. The wrinkle between his brows deepens with a clench of his jaw, his eyes rolling back as my sweet pussy consumes him. Raising my hips to lessen the pain, I shallowly ride him until my wetness coats him enough to slam all the way down. Slash grunts and nearly abandons his pen but doesn't as he knows it'll be the end of this facade he's trying to maintain.

I work him up into a blazing abyss while he tries to use his resolve to persevere. The tip of his cock nearly hits my cervix with this position, filling me to the brim. The steady bounce I'm maintaining have me moaning in his ear, gradually unraveling by the second. His cologne invades my senses while burying my face in his neck, inhaling the thrilling scent with each intake of air. Panting, I cling to him with my tired legs, trying to wrap around him as I rock against him.

"Fuck babe, I- shit-" He moans out loud.

Each time I rise, my insides feel an emptiness I can't bear until the mighty stretch of sinking down gives the divine satisfaction of being full of him again.

"You like being a sluty girl for me, huh." He keeps moaning as he grabs my ass. "Feel how your cunt begs for my cock."

On his end, the heavenly scorch of the inferno that is my hot, wet, velveteen walls squeezing him feeds his carnal desire to penetrate me with control. Slowly, his hips start to buck upward, chasing the feeling of my saturated plushness. My high-pitched mewls indicate me impending release, the pulsating beat inside me becoming more frequent with each plunge.

"S- Slash, daddy...." I pule, the look on my face is grave as I pull back to look at him.

Seeing such desperation in my face makes him drop his pen without a single thought. Slash grabs my hips and lifts me to roughly slam up into my drenched cunt. Hissing, he eagerly leans back and devours the small contortions in my face. The pleasure between both of us increases tenfold as he controls the pace with my body and the power of his hips. Sure, I could ride him the whole night, but with Saul Hudson, it's an entirely different type of gratification only he can deliver. Slash drives into me like rapid-fire, ceaselessly slamming through my fluttering walls.

"What a desperate little cunt you have here," he says through clenched teeth, leching at my straining hole with a cocky tilt of his head. "Sucking me in like you can't live without my cock being buried inside you," he says with such poise it makes me lose it.

My jaw gapes open, letting out waves of wails that coax a vicious, almost painful speed of his hips. As my body recoils and quivers, my insides squeeze him.

"You're really cumming over that?" He roughly growls, his own orgasm hitting him. "Is my wife that much of a whore?" He snarls, his rough mouth intensifying my releases.

The tightness around him brings his release head-on and he sharply grunts before exhaling out a drawn-out groan. A hot rush surges through his shaft, resulting in thick strings glazing my insides. With impossible brute force, his hands clench around my hips hard enough to leave marks while pounding his spurting cock upward. Rolling waves of hot bliss wash over me as my cling to his solid body, the air being knocked out of me from his forceful thighs banging against me.

"Bab-e" the moans do not stop coming out of my mouth.

With a slight sneer to his mouth, Slash captures my lips in a fervid kiss, one that cuts my voice short. Tongues openly swirl around one another, moans and groans mixing in a harmonic cacophony.

"Holy shit, I'm gonna cum.... shit." he moans against my lips.

Sighing heavily through his nose, leftover jitters jolt his body with the last remnants of his orgasm hitting him. My walls gradually relax around him, hugging him while thick fluid flows from the junction between our bodies. Clutching onto him, I lift off him and feel as empty as ever without him. Standing on wobbly legs, I struggle to stand on the stilts of my heels. Warm semen seeps down my inner thigh, prompting me to look down at it. Slash catches the liquid with a finger, swiping it up as more drips down. Just the feeling of the pads of his fingers near my center nearly makes me topple over.

"Clean this mess," he orders, offering me his glossy fingers.

I gaze at him while opening my mouth, his fingers gliding to the back of my tongue. My lips close around his digits as his finger pulls out. Smiling, I lean over to kiss him but he stops me with a finger on my lips and a raised eyebrow.

"Did I not say clean this mess?" He repeats pitilessly.

I look down at his still hard, glistening cock as semen pools around his balls and trickle down his pants. Immediately, I sink down to my knees between his legs, licking my lips as I inspect the immense girth of him. Gingerly grabbing his base, my eyes snap up to his before licking collecting the hone he so graciously is giving to me with a fat stripe up his tall length. Slash's nostrils flare in arousal, watching me lick up his seed like a glazed candy. Even though it's bitter, it's the sweetest thing I've ever tasted as I see that he's enjoying himself.

The drip of his seed between my thighs distracts me every so often as it coats my skin in a glassy luster. My lovely tongue peeks from my lips tantalizingly as it slithers around the fat veins of his cock, smoothing over them deliciously. Reaching the tip, I lick the small slit at the top, collecting even more of the tasty liquid. While keeping his semen in the back of my mouth, I continue slurping up the mess all the way down to the bottom.

My husband lets out a hiss as my tongue cups one of his balls, softly sucking it into my mouth. A deep pinch between his brows appears and the muscles framing the back of his jaw flex as he pushes his hair back, revealing more of his handsome face. Almost breathless, he watches my mouth at his balls with an expression that spurs me on. With the acidic fluid now gone, I can't help but keep licking him until my lips reach the tip. I wrap my lips around the sensitive, swollen head and suck harder than he'd like, making his hips jerk up. He groans and snatches me by the hair, lifting me off him.

Leaning forward, he moves close to my face, tilting his head mockingly at me.

"I don't think you're in a position to toy with me when you are my toy babe," he muses, placing a finger over your closed mouth.

Slash grabs the frame of my jaw roughly, wedging his index and thumb between my teeth from the outside so my mouth opens. He smirks triumphantly seeing his release in my mouth.

"Swallow me," he orders.

I swallow the bittery goodness and stick my tongue out to show off my compliancy. Slash smiles, reclining against the chair and pulling my hair at the root. Jerking my face closer to his cock, he smashes my lips to his length before forcing my mouth over it. I whine as his cock drives through my parted lips, the fleshy hardness of it hitting the roof of my mouth. My brows scrunch while trying to not gag around him as he pushes me halfway down.

"I know you can take it all with that expert mouth of yours," he croons, holding my head down until he feels my throat open up for him. "That's it, my girl, my babygirl."

His thickness penetrates my throat and I concentrate on breathing properly without gagging. Bobbing my head atop his cock, his fingers tighten in my hair with each thrust, getting lost in the feel of my mouth and throat. Slash's eyebrows quirk up as my moans pitch higher, wondering why I'm enjoying this more than usual. Through the gap between my mouth and his cock, he can see that my pussy is still oozing his cum. With a smug grin, he moves his leather loafer below me, raising the tip of it to skim my drooling center. Gasping, I moan against his cock as he rubs my clit against his shoe.

"Nasty girl, getting turned on by her husband's shoe," he sneers, pushing me further down his cock until my nose is buried in his black pubes. "Does my cock taste good knowing my seed is spilling from you?" He growls, increasing the pace of my head.

I whine, his cock muffling my voice. Tears begin to break the barrier of my lashes and stream down thickly, making for a wonderful view of my struggling face. He rubs my pussy tauntingly slow, patting my entrance with a vile gush. Though he's teasing me, he's ultimately riling himself up further as he twinges in my throat.

"Since your little pussy can't keep my seed in, I think I need to refill it again, tesoro," he coos, pulling me off his cock with a nasty pop.

Strings fall down my chin, my lips glossy and my cheeks full of tears. I nod and he smiles warmly through the heat of his impending release.

"But you have to promise me that you won't bother me again like this if I do," he says.

"Okay, daddy." I reply.

Slash smiles, helping me up with attentive hands, and in the back of his mind, he knows full well I'm lying. Picking me up and placing me atop his desk, he hikes my right leg against his torso with my heel cresting his wide shoulder. Leering brown eyes roam my filthy thighs while curling a possessive arm around my thigh, dragging my bottom to the edge of the desk. My palms splay on top of the desk beside me as I sit up, wanting a good look at him while he plows me. The tips of his fingers slip a bit, prompting him to delve his fingers deep into the flesh of my inner thigh to keep a strong grip over me. Standing straight, the desk is a perfect height for him to align his cock up with my entrance without having to dip his body low. My other leg rests against the wood, bent with an inviting spread to my legs.

I stare up at him with wanting eyes and he can't help but fall deeper in love with me with that expression. He lays the curvature of his cock against my slit, making me moan before moving back his hips. With the head of his cock trailing lower to my hole, he slams into me with a roll of his eyes. His cock glides in with little to no resistance as the mixture of fluids in me make for a sensuous massage. I squeal, my hands nearly slipping from the powerful thrust. Placing his free hand on my other thigh, he grips it hard before pulling out and driving back in. My little whimpers turn into hiccup moans, tears quickly returning to my lashline as he hits me deep. Slash loves the fact that he can control the pleasure in me, experience with each thrust as if he has my emotions in the palm of his hand.

"This is what you wanted? Honey." he mumbled.

"Not enough, I need more daddy." I faced him

His features quickly hardened.

"You need more? Okay sweetheart, you're gonna have more so."

Gritting his teeth, he watches me spread around him as I did earlier, this time though, he's quicker than ever as he nears his release. Strands of his bangs fall back down to his forehead, leaving his hair perfectly messy with each undulating sway. Tip to base, he makes me feel every detail of him, sinking into me so deep he brushes the crest of my cervix.

Oh god.

The thick veins coiling around his cock beat in tandem with his heart, his cock head throbbing and leaking profusely with precum. Ducking his head low, he rests his forehead against mine, his nose rubbing the side of us as he fervently fucks me.

"Squeeze me like you always do babe," he growls, placing a thumb over my clit and rotating. My walls instantly tighten and he groans needily. "Just like that, you're perfect," he says hastily, giving me his all.

Striking my bottom with his hips with a loud clap, he pounds into me vehemently, relishing in the sweet squelch between my legs. Parted lips meet in an opened mouth kiss, one that is lazy as the two of us begin to swiftly unravel. The tips of my tongues twirl together hotly before he retracts his muscle earlier than expected, his breath labored as his hips move on their own.

"Gonna stuff you full with my seed," he mumbles through clenched teeth.

Slash slams against me with a terrifyingly crash, jolting my body within his tight grasp. The urge to fill me is strong and so he snaps into me ferociously, ejaculating inside of me once more. His cock pulses inside of me with a coaxing sensation, drowning me in a wash of bliss. His thumb relentlessly rubs my clit through his strenuous efforts, wanting me to have the utmost pleasure imaginable. Wrapping his arms around me, he desperately hugs me to his body as he can barely pull out of my rippling walls, eager to stay buried inside me. With each thrust, he hisses sharply, sensitive, and in awe of how I can just disarm him so easily just by coming into his study.

He swallows thickly before holding me and crashing back down in the chair as it creaks loudly.

"I don't think this chair is going to last if we keep this up," he chuckles gruffly, idly skimming my back with his fingertips.

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enigma-im · 3 years

Text

Tenth day of Christmas...

Trope: Soulmate

Relationship: Alien x Human

Word count: 5,282

A lazy Saturday night. No responsibilities, nowhere to be, just me, and my tv. I quickly change into my pajamas, ready to plop myself on the couch for the rest of the day. Grabbing my phone on the way out of my room I swipe through messages, ignoring a great portion of them in favor of total isolation. Just me and my shows tonight.

A chill runs over my neck before I hit my shin against something hard. Arching forward I cradle my leg with a restrained curse barely sitting on the tip of my tongue. I look down at the sudden coffee table before me, it's bright white design polar opposite to my dark aesthetic in my home. I glance around the room, running cold at the unfamiliar environment. Everything is bright and illuminated, the furniture the only dark thing in here besides the baseboards lining the walls. I gawk in utter confusion.

"Who are you," someone barks, rolling into a growl. I snap my attention to some…thing standing just behind me. I twist towards them quickly, taking a few steps back as I take them in. Tall is my first thought, followed closely by bright. The creature is an alluring shade of blue, a mix of dark and light around its face. The top of its head is skin like hair that looks slicked back. It's almost like dreadlocks in their thickness. Average looking human eyes but a long mouth with thin lips. If it wasn't for the human-like stature I'd assume this was some sort of monster. The clothes are a slightly comforting touch. All around it's a rather disgusting looking man…alien…monster…thing.

He takes a threatening step towards me, shouting again," Who are you? How did you get into my home?" I choke on an answer, still confused and lost. Jerking my head here and there I take in the room, still just as weirded out. Where am I? who is this thing? I curl into myself, panting heavily as I panic. The thing takes another step, catching my attention again.

"Answer me, human," he spits the words," How did you get here?" I flounder for an answer, gawking like a fish as I try to talk.

"I-I-I," I try to speak," don't know." He recoils at the answer, before looking stricken. His lips peel back into a snarl, showing off sharp intimidating teeth. I nearly whimper at the sight, feeling like prey at this moment. He charges at me.

"Out, out, out," he shouts. I take frantic steps back till my back hits a wall. He corners me easily, grabbing at my shoulders. I shut my eyes, clenching up for the oncoming attack.

I'm greeted with silence.

I peek open my eyes to see my familiar bedroom. Uncertain, I curl my hands against my chest and look around the room. I see my bed, my vanity, the slightly ajar door to my bathroom. There is no sight of the alien man. I quickly bolt to my closet, grabbing my bat before checking the apartment. I walk to every room, ready to take on the horrid monster.

I clock out of work, heading to my car. Hooking up my phone I jam out to some tunes while I sort my work attire out. Setting my name tag in the cup holder and tossing the apron to the passenger seat. Before I can press the brakes I see a light bright enough for me to force my eyes closed. I feel my seat sink, a weightless feeling taking me for a moment. I open my eyes.

Coming up empty I manage to circle back to my room, confused and hurt. I rub at my chest, trying to ease this great discomfort. Setting the bat by the door I curl up in bed, forgoing my lazy Saturday night.

It's weeks after the incident and I'm left feeling like it was all a dream. There were no odd moments after that one, surely it was some strange mishap of imagination. I actually begin to forget it as the month comes to an end, though a strange emptiness stirs in my stomach. The feeling is worse at night, leaving me to cuddle with my pillows to ease it minorly.

I look into the barely familiar room, clenching onto the armrest to a chair. Terrified I look all around, spotting the strange man in a small kitchenette. We make eye contact, both of us startled. He recovers faster than I.

"You! What are you doing back in my house," he shouts, storming over. I sink further into the seat, nails biting into the wooden rests.

"I don't kn-," I try to explain.

"I don't want you here, how are you coming back," he barks, angrier than our first meeting. I try to explain again but he shouts over me. His words are harsh, accusing me of things I didn't do. As I attempt to speak over him he just gets louder till I feel near tears with all the stress.

"Stop coming here, I don't want you," he grabs at my hand," how did you manage to get in here in the first place? Humans do not possess the wit to get here on their own, so tell! Answer me! How did you get here?" I tug on my arm, trying to get out of his grip.

"I don't know," I scream," I don't know, so please stop yelling at me." I feel ridiculous as I'm near tears but I feel the situation calls for it on some level. I didn't mean to be here, it's not my fault.

The man stumbles at my shout, letting me go as he takes a step back. I curl into myself, wrapping my arms around my body, and tuck my feet up on the chair. He watches me, angry but lost. I glare up at him, fighting back the stinging in my eyes. My chest feels sore.

"I don't know where I am and I just want to go home," I plead, gritting my teeth. He furrows his brow, sneering as he reaches out and touches my arm. Before I can attempt to fight back I'm back in my car.

Looking around the dark parking lot I fall lax once I realize my position. I whimper as an ache squeezes at my chest. Leaning forward and banging my head on the steering wheel I take a deep breath, then a few more.

There is sadly a next time.

Can't write that one off as a dream.

I wait for the next few days anxiously. Trying to convince myself of 'two is a coincidence, three's a pattern' does little to soothe me. I could only hope that those two incidents were flukes. My nerves try to get the best of me but I know better. I get angry every time I think back, mad at how some harsh words could get me near tears. No man, alien or otherwise, is allowed to get such an upper hand on me. I promise myself indifference the next time I see that jerk.

I'm taken from my shower, to my misfortune. Covered only in a towel I stand in the bright living room, flustered and angry. The alien stands before me, arms crossed as he gives me a once over. As his gaze meets mine he quirks his brow. I tighten the towel around myself, glaring all the while.

"Caught you at a bad time I see," he says nearly bored. I huff, walking around the chair to hide my lower self. As I twist around I catch him tilting his head to follow me with his eyes. I snap my fingers at him, catching his attention. "send me back," I demand. He recoils in disgust at my command.

"No, I'm not some servant to make a request from. Also, I need to talk with you," he answers. I scoff, twisting away. Talk with me? Does this conversation involve more yelling and blame? I'm wet, cold, and flustered. I've been tense all week waiting for this exact moment to happen and I rather not spend another second here.

"No," I grumble.

"Excuse me," he bites back. I turn towards him, sneering.

"No, I don't want to talk with you. Send me back and keep it that way," I growl, a tad proud at the sudden backbone I've grown. He scoffs, shifting weight to his other leg.

"Do you believe that I intend for you to keep coming back," he asks the rhetorical question," because trust me, I don't want you around as much as you don't want to be around."

"Oh really? Haven't noticed," I tease," you have been so friendly up until now."

He rolls his eyes," sarcasm, such a low form of wit." I bite my tongue from throwing a remark back.

"Doesn't matter, send me back," I demand.

"Not until we talk," he shoots back. I tense in pure frustration. I'm near-naked and confused, I don't need this right now. Twisting away from him I fold my arms over my chest. He can talk if he wants but I don't have to answer.

The alien sighs," if I give you something to wear then will you talk with me?" I check on him from the corner of my eye. He looks as tired as I feel at that moment. Reluctantly I nod.

He exits the room, coming back shortly with a long shirt. Handing it to me he turns around, leaving me to put the shirt on and tying the towel around my waist. I sit in the chair as he sits on the couch. The silence is almost as bad as the yelling. I clear my throat, trying to bait him into speaking first. He sighs.

"Well I think the best way to start is with an introduction," he shrugs," I'm Egil, a Birger."

"Hello Egil," I wave awkwardly, dropping my arm quickly," I'm Kari, a human. I think you knew that part though."

"yea," he scratches at his neck," I wanna make a deal with you, Kari. We are in a bit of a bind that makes this little teleporting thing common. You see, we are important to one another according to a much higher power. I never chose this, let you know that now, and I'd prefer it if this little…situation… wasn't permeant." I squint at him, confused.

"What?"

He sighs, rubbing at his face," my people have a very interesting power that most of the galaxy favors. With that power comes a 'blessing' that brings another being to us when the time is right. Now I thought this someone would be a, well, another Birger. That's clearly not right so I just have to make do. So I'm asking for you to bear with this little inconvenience for a little longer until it runs its course and we can go our separate ways."

I process his words, rolling them around in my head. A special someone? Am I the special someone? What does he mean by 'run its course'? I think of a proper way to articulate my words to get across how utterly lost I am in this conversation. I look between his beautiful lavender eyes.

"What?"

He drops his head in his hands, rubbing at his eyes harshly before he snaps," you are my mate and if we wait a bit then you will stop being sent to me. So I ask can we just be civil until this stops?"

I taste the words on my tongue," Soulmate?"

He rests his chin on his hand," sure, soulmates. That's not the point, do you agree to be civil until this all blows over?" my brain flips flops. I take a moment to actually let the words settle before I speak. I cross my legs, resting my elbow on my knees and leaning forward.

"So you have soulmates and you think I'm them-,"

"You are," he interrupts.

"- so you want to ignore it because of why exactly?"

"Because it won't work, obviously," he answers casually.

I quirk a brow," because I'm human or because you can see the future?"

He snorts, recoiling in mirth," do you want to be my mate?"

"No, of course not. I'm just asking because I know like thousands of people who would be jumping for joy in this situation and I'm trying to see if you don't see me as an option because your racist," I tease, baiting him a bit. He deadpans, not amused in the slightest.

"Deal or not, Kari," he asks.

"Yea, sure, whatever," I wave him off," are we done now? I'm catching a chill."

The few long conversations we have had were surprisingly pleasant. When he isn't being a grump he can be downright enjoyable to be around. I can almost see how we could work together but I trash that idea when he starts getting snappy again.

He scoffs," yea, sure." standing he reaches over and touches my shoulder, sending me back home.

The next month is filled with annoying moments of being sent away. At first, it was mainly when I was at home, which was better than later when I was sent from work. In those moments Egil is kind enough to promptly send me back. In my more relaxed moments, he pulls me into a conversation, though he sounds bored with it most of the time. I look on the bright side of these meetings, learning what I can about him and aliens.

I try to go on with my life as normal, going out with friends and shopping when I can. I've been blessed to not be taken away in front of everyone. Almost like the teleporting has some know-how on good times and bad times. Though the shower one will never be forgiven.

Lounging against Egil's couch I listen to him explain how his planet's seasons work. It was started with me complaining about the cold in my apartment. He seems to be in a better mood today, talking animatedly about his favorite season. I admire him, finding the twinkle in his eye charming.

"You know when you aren't being a grouch you are nice to be around," I say casually as he takes a short pause in his rant. He stumbles on his next words, turning to me confused.

"What? You think I'm a grouch," he asks.

I shrug, laying against the couch," you get in your feelings a lot and it tends to spoil a meeting."

"In my feelings? I don't follow."

I watch him fidget a bit," you seem to sulk into yourself and I can't get you out of it no matter how much baiting I do. I prefer it when you are speaking animated like right now. You seem to enjoy talking about science and the inner workings of your planet. It's nice." he flusters at the compliment. His cheeks turn a strange dusty purple. I smile to myself at the sight.

"Well, science is entertaining but many people don't care to listen to it often. I can't blame them, I can see how hearing someone ramble for hours about biology and the workings of plants during different temperatures. It's just so cool how the weather can drastically change how a tree will present itself. I mean it just knows the correct way to arrange itself to get the most it can from the sun and I ju-," he glances over at me, sighing," sorry, I'm rambling."

I wave him off," no, go on. I have nothing to do tonight and spending it alone in my apartment doesn't sound too exciting."

He chuckles," glad to hear I'm more entertaining than an empty living space."

Friday night I dress to the nines, truly trying my best. I'm not really optimistic about this becoming more than one date but a girl can try a little. I meet the guy at a set location, agreeing to walk together to dinner. When I see him I'm in awe at his look and my luck. I might owe my friend an apology and a thank you.

I shrug, gesturing for him to continue his rant. My chest feels a bit full when I hear him speak, which is far better than the empty feeling I gain when I'm sent home.

My friend kindly notices my melancholy as of late and sets me up on a cringey blind date. I couldn't help the depressed state I've been in lately. When she offered such a plan I was extremely reluctant. A blind date is for the sad and lonely, or socially impaired. I guess I would fall into one of the categories. I agree after a bit of encouragement.

We talk on the way to the restaurant, the conversation bright and exciting. The empty feeling I've felt lately is bearable in this man's presence. We get our seats and continue talking all through dinner. I'm tempted to invite him up to my apartment. Couldn't hurt to see where this will go.

I excuse myself to the bathroom before we leave. As I open the door I see the bright room I've gotten used to. My shoulders drop as I walk further inside looking for Egil.

"Egil," I call. I hear a creak behind me, twisting around I see Egil staring intently at my dress. Relieved, I step over to him," hey, I was in the middle of something important. Can you send me back?" he takes a moment to actually look up at me, quirking a brow.

"You look…fancy," he says his words carefully.

"Yea, I'm on a date. So can you send me back please," I ask again. His eyes trail down to my dress again, his head tilting as he appraises me. As my words sink in he snaps his attention back to me.

"A date," he frowns," with who?"

"A friend of a friend. I don't have time to talk, he is waiting outside right now. So please," I reach for him. My hand falls on his wrist, tugging him forward. He follows, looking a mix of frustrated and confused.

"Where are you two going," he asks instead of grabbing my shoulders. I huff.

"My place, now please," I shake his hand. He swats me away.

"Why you two going to your place," he asks like an upset father.

"Egil, I'm not going to spell it out for you. Now, please," I reach for him again. He grips my wrists, a tad too hard. His gritting teeth are the last thing I see before I'm back at the bathroom. I walk in feeling sick to my stomach. Passing the mirror I look at myself for a second.

It's a long while before I get sent back to him and it's a rather strange time. I head to bed that night, snuggling up in my sheets.

Why was he so angry?

I don't meet up with my date again after that night. After the meeting with Egil, I feel a little mixed up. He is always a grump, that's normal, but this time was more than mild annoyance. Was he angry with me? That idea picks at me. Why would he be angry?

I wake shortly later to some loud thud. Groaning I twist on my bed, running into a wall I wasn't prepared for. Confused, I look at the couch I'm strewn across. I sit up looking around the dimly lit white room.

"Egil," I call out tired. I get no answer. Getting up off the couch I step around towards the kitchenette spotting Egil sitting on the floor lounging against the cabinets. "Egil," I catch his attention. He bobs his head up, smacking it lightly against the wood behind him.

"Oh, great, it's you," he pulls a drink up to his lips," how was your date." he spits the words. I take in the scene before me, Egil sitting disorganized on the floor with an unknown bottle in hand. He sways a bit, looking distraught.

"Are you drunk," I ask.

He chuckles," of course. What else is there to do at a time like this?"

"Sleep, if I had to suggest something," I joke, more nervous than amused right now. He snorts a loud laugh.

"Funny," he points at me, waving his drink around," one of the traits that bruise me so easily. Like a fruit falling out of a tree and hitting the ground too hard." I quirk a brow. Alright, he is drunk.

"Poetic, I think it's time for you to get some sleep," I crouch before him," you think you can make it to your bed after you send me back?" he sneers, rolling his head against the cabinets.

"Always with that damn demand," he takes another swig," I don't want to do that anymore." I huff. I guess I'm relaxing here tonight. Reaching forward I grab his arm to tug him up.

"Alright, time for bed, Egil," I help him stand. He stumbles as he gets to his feet, bumping into me. I steady him, holding his waist. He takes the moment to swing his arm around me, nearly making me fall as he drops on me.

"What was that outfit your wore the last time," he mumbles near my face, the stank of his alcohol burning my nose.

"My dress," I ask as we make the trek to his bedroom.

"Yea, the dress," he grins, giggling like an idiot," I liked it."

"Thank you, my mother got it for me," I answer as we reach his door. I swing it open, tugging him in. He bumps and nudges me till he falls onto his bed. I take the relief to catch my breath, he is a rather heavy and sloppy drunk. Couldn't hold at least some of his own weight?

He turns onto his back, kicking off his footwear with a dopey grin on his face. Sliding up the bed he looks to me, gesturing me over. In my experience with drunks, this I what we call a bad idea. I take a step closer, still a good enough distance to get out of reach. He gestures me closer. I don't budge, he sneers. Snatching my wrist he tugs me closer, using his other hand to cup the back of my neck. My face is uncomfortably close to his.

"You have the prettiest eyes," he pets at the back of my neck," like weeping gems in the deepest caves of Turmore. Which is fitting because your beauty is so grand it nearly makes me weep in pure joy." I glare at him utterly confused. I gulp hard.

"Are you always like this when drunk," I nearly squeaked. He shrugs, dropping my wrist to pet at my face.

"You bring out the weird in me," he scrunches his nose.

"Ok," I grab his hands and push them away," you need to sleep, I'll be on the couch." I try to take a step back but he pulls me back.

"No," he whines, pulling harder. I fight against him, trying hard not to fall on the bed. With a well-timed tug, I'm pulled against his chest and twisted onto my back. Leaning on his forearm and stretching the other on the opposite side of my head he glares down at me. His stare is hard and focused unlike before. I look between his eyes, waiting with bated breath for his next move.

Egil lowers himself till his lips are near my ear," I want to tell you something."

"y-yea," I try to turn to him but my cheek bumps his. His answer is to kiss my cheek. My heart flutters in my heart like a loose door in a storm. I'm stuck between uncomfortable and uncontrollably excited.

"I don't like our deal anymore," he bumps his head against mine," I feel more and more idiotic for suggesting it."

"why," I shift back to look at him. His eyes are barely open, either from the drink or something else. It doesn't look erotic but he keeps acting this way. He shifts so he can grab my hip, petting me with his thumb.

"I was stupid," he falls to his side, resting his head on his pillow," I was scared of you. Now I'm terrified of you."

"What," I ask offended. I try to crawl out from under him but he circles his hands around my thighs and rests his head on my chest.

"You like our conversations and you're really funny. I don't want to stop seeing you," he rubs his face against my shirt," please don't stop seeing me." his grip a bit harder, trying his hardest to not let me have an inch to get out. I pet at his head, trying to placate him.

"It's alright," I coo," I'm not leaving, I'm right here."

He grunts," for how long?"

"let's just live in the now, Egil. Let me up and try to get some sleep, I'll be here in the morning," I try to push him off. He clenches harder, looking up with his chin pressed against my sternum.

"You can sleep here," he suggests.

"No, that's not appropriate," I scold. He snickers, leaning up and pressing a kiss to my neck.

"Neither is pushing your mate away but I already did that," he makes me shutter as he licks my skin. I take a deep breath, very caught off guard with his attentions.

"How about we talk about this in the morning," I offer," just go to sleep." he grunts, pressing his face in the crook of my neck. I can't bother to try and push him away, somehow enjoying the weight of him on me. I pet at his head, trying to lull him to sleep.

"Good night, love," he brushes his nose against my jaw.

His eyes flutter open, closing as he grins. He stretches, tugging me close, and bumping his head against mine. It's after a moment that he stiffens, pushing me away as he sits up. Laying on the opposite side of the bed I watch his startled expression. He looks from himself to me then the bed. His features strain into a frown.

I sigh," Good night, babe."

I wake the next morning to soft snoring rumbling near my ears. Taking a deep breath I peek my eyes open, looking at Egil lounging on me. His arm is thrown over my chest, hugging me close to him as he sleeps. I take the quiet moment to admire him, look at his lax features. The urge to pet his face is strong. I give into it for a moment, feeling his soft skin on his cheek.

"Don't get grumpy," I yelp. He relaxes partially, more confused than anything.

"Why are you in my bed," he asks.

I chuckle half-heartedly," I've heard a similar question when we first met."

"Kari," he says sternly," please explain."

I fluster, grabbing the blanket to cover most of myself," I don't wanna."

"Why?"

"Because you might get mad or embarrassed," I answer. That doesn't seem to help as he scoots farther away.

"Kari, I'm asking nicely, what happened?"

I nibble my cheek as I debate answering. Surely sober him wouldn't have the same ideas at drunk him. Does he honestly want me to stick around? Will he want to hear about how he kissed and licked my body before falling asleep half on top of me?

Will he still think my eyes are pretty?

"You got drunk. That's it," I answer quickly," I put you into bed and you didn't want me to sleep on the couch because you are so kind. So you let me use your bed and here we are."

His brow furrows," Is that all?"

I hide under the blanket some more," No."

"Kari," he scolds," what did I say?" I debate lying, saving his feelings-and mine- from this recap. Nibbling on my cheek I try to gain some courage.

Peaking over the blanket I ask," do you really regret making that deal with me?"

Egil stiffens, grabbing a fist full of blankets in a harsh grip. I wince at his discomfort. I bet if he regrets anything right now it's saying that last night. He takes a moment for himself, looking towards the room before meeting my eyes. He sighs, dropping his chin towards his chest.

"Yes, more than anything," he grumbles. I nearly pop up from under the blanket like a whack-a-mole.

"Really," I ask," I mean, why?"

He winces, shrugging as he thinks of an answer. "I don't know. A lot of reasons. I just think not having you around anymore would be…a great loss. Having you as a friend has been great and I don't want that to end."

"You want to keep me around as a friend," I ask, feeling a stab at my heart for such a lacking suggestion. Does he only see us as friends? I don't want to be brazens and assume that we can be much more but…it couldn't hurt.

He sighs," No, I don't think I could muster the strength to keep things platonic with you. Especially after seeing you in that dress."

I grin," better than the towel?" he peaks at me, giving a teasing smile. It feels easy to talk with him like that, the tension already ebbing away.

Feeling brave I shift the blanket off myself and crawl over towards him, stopping as our legs touch. I hesitate to touch him, using stubborn courage to grab at his hands.

"Egil," I start," I don't know a lot about all this and you suck completely at trying to explain it. Yet, I can feel something here and it's beginning to grow. I really want to know now, before it's too late, if you honestly want to give this a try. Ever since the night with the dress I haven't been able to get that angry scowl out of my mind. I don't want to ever see you angry. Grumpy is fine but angry, I can't handle it. It made me realize that I want to make you happy and being here with you is the one way I know for sure that I can make that happen. So, do you want to try?"

Egil squeezes my hand, watching me in harden focus. I wait for his answer, craving his answer. The battle is clear on his face as he tries to think of something, anything, to say. In the end, he just grabs my face and tugs me into a kiss.

It's surprising at first, to feel his thin, long mouth against mine. Yet, his sweet taste draws me in as I cup his face. He tells me all I need to know in just a simple action. Though he is a man of many words, this moment didn't demand such talent. I part from him to rest my head against his.

"I want a date night with you," I smile, feeling silly demanding such a thing.

"What's a date night," he asks.

"Dinner, movies, cuddling and kissing on the couch," I answer. He nods, thinking about it.

"Will you wear that dress again," he perks up. I press a sweet kiss to his mouth.

"If you want," I smirk.

"Then it's a date, hopefully, I'll get to see you in the towel next time," he flirts. I scoff, playfully hitting his chest. He laughs, tugging me into a hug and another kiss. I pet at his cheek, smiling like a dork.

"Maybe if you play your cards right, I'll be in less than a towel."

He growls in excitement.

#12 days of christmas #12 tropes for christmas #Enigma-IM #monster boyfriend #alien boyfriend #alien x human #soulmate #exophilia

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morgansunflower · 3 years

Text

That I Love You 1/2

Older!Damian Wayne X West! Reader

Warnings:explicit language, blood

Words:1535

Y/N, West is the daughter of Wally and Artemis. Damian, fights his heart to feel a ounce of love for her though fails

Being a speedster like my dad has it perks. I am one of 'the fastest person's alive'. My little twin brother Jai and I have been not only twins but best friends. We know almost every single one of the others secrets. My dad had been believed to be dead, before I was born. After we we're 5 months old he came back. Now, we live in Central City. In a 3 bedroom, two bathroom, a kitchen with a, table and a living room big enough for the four of us. I've been with the team at the hub for 9 years now. The team consists of myself, my brother, Jonathan Kent, sisters Jennifer and Anissa, my cousin Lian Harper, Arthur Jr, and Damian Wayne. Oh, Damian. We're friend's. Just friends. So why do I want more? I would die if anyone knew how I feel about him. Not even, Jai knows. At least I hope.

Damian's P. O. V

9 year anniversary of the team. A party at the hub. With previous members and current attended. I stand in the back leaning against the wall with my arms crossed. I look at, Y/N laughing with her brother. I always was fond of her smile. Her laughs warm my heart. Her kindness always brings me to a comforting place. My older adopted sister joyfully steps to me.

"you gonna keep being a creepy stalker or go talk to her" Brown said with a smile

"tt, I should have taken advantage of ridding of you when I had the chance"

"Dami, you've been threatening to kill me since the day we met. Besides she's pretty, kind enough for both of you. Plus she knows when to put you in your place, and--"

"Brown, enough" I grunted

"well I never Damian Wayne scared to talk to his oh so adorable crush" her tone mocking

"tt"

I pondered on my annoying yet I do love her, adopted sister's statement, 'Crush?' Meaning you like someone. That, word didn't even come near to how I feel for, Y/N. I didn't simply like, Y/N. My feelings for her were far deeper than that. I have a deep adoration for her. I can't seem to find any reason to allow her to be mine. She deserves far better than I can ever attempt to be. The following day. My arm extended holding my sword blocking Slade's own sword. Are swords clashed. The team and I preventing, Injustice League from causing further chaos.

"Robin, look out!" Y/N yelled

I push Slade harshly as I hear gunfire. He kneels grabbing his pistols. I swiftly three two batarangs in his pistols barrels. I turn abruptly. I see, Y/N on the ground.

"no!" I said I then say in my intercom "H/N, is down!!"

I run and hold her in my arm's. I feel my heart pounding against my chest. Her body limb everything, next to where her heart is blood pouring. I use my spy-contact's on the faraway building I see, Dead-shot! I don't have time to ruin him for hurting my love. I run using a boom-tube to the Med-bay. How could she have done that?! I didn't deserve that. I lay her on the stretcher I use my spy-contact's. Her pulse still there. Suddenly I'm being pulled back

"no! No! No! No!" I yelled

"Damian, we have to perform surgery!" I hear though I can't retain

I can't leave her. I see Diana and Barry. I look at, Y/N's unconscious body. My breathing hitches. I step out of the Med-bay. I look seeing the blood on my uniform and hands.

"where's my sister!!" Jai demanded

He grabbed my collar I move his hand away.

"she's being tended to"

"what the hell happened?!"

"Deadshot, was aiming at me. H/N, heroically let the bullet shoot through her. As I said 'their tending to her condition'"

I then see her parents

"Jai!!" Artemis exclaimed

Jai runs to them. I see Artemis hug Jai. Wally, hugs them both. I look down to her blood on my uniform. My heart racing. I'm sweating. I step away unable to stand another moment. Jai, ran in front of me grabbing my shoulder.

He whispers with rage "are you seriously thinking of leaving? After my sister took a bullet for you? The hell is wrong with you?! She deserves better than that, Damian!" his tears fell

I shove his hand away "like you said West" I step away leaving "'she deserves better'"

I use a boom-tube going to the Bat-cave. I step to the training center. I feel so enraged! I think of the blood she bled. I punch the wooden post repeatedly. I ignored the sweat pouring down my face. The pounding of my heart.

"Damian!!" I hear

Todd, grasped my fist I dagger glare at him.

"we've been yelling your name like 500 fucking times take a fucking breath, short stack" Todd said

I'm 3 inches taller than, Jason and he still insults me like he did when I was a child. I see, Grayson. I move my hand away from, Todd. I then feel the burning pain on my knuckles. I was so enraged I never noticed. My gloves torn and knuckles swollen with blood. I sigh deeply catching my breath. I step to the small medical area in the Bat-cave. I grab the cloth from the top of the shelf and clean the blood off my knuckles. I then see, my blood stains on my uniform from Y/N's blood. My heart sinks further. She has to fight through.

"you gonna explain the fuck that was about?" Todd asked enraging me

"Jay, not helping man" Grayson, looks to Todd irritated and sighed. He then looks at me "what's wrong, Little D? You don't look too good. C'mon you can talk to us"

I shake my head gently my breathing un-calmed. I step out of the Bat-cave going to my room. I walk up the stairs. I step into my room and I slammed the door shut behind me. I feel my heart heavy. I strip down and change into my boxers and sweatpants. I lazily sat on my bed. I take a shaky breath. What if I've really messed up this time? What if I lose her? I force my tears back. I already ruined my friendship with her. Could I never get the chance to beg for forgiveness. I feel my unavoidable tear fall down my face. Then it all fell to the floor beneath me. I hear footsteps among the hallway near my bedroom door. I knew it was my adopted brother. I hold my hands together with a firm grip my rage consuming me. I ignored the pain I felt within my grasped hands and the sound of my door knocking. The door cracks open then opens more. I see, Grayson out of the corner of my eye.

"tell me what's going on, kiddo. Your big bro is here to listen closely and intently"

"tt" I don't know how to tell him how I feel about, Y/N. How scared I feel.

He sits next to me I take a deep breath. He's my best friend. He touches my neck.

"c'mon you know that you can talk to me, what's wrong?" he said with a soft voice though with worry

I sigh deeply "she takes a damn bullet for me. I care about her Grayson.. The same way you care for your wife. I failed her" my voice breaking it wasn't the first time I broke in front of my brother.

I'm grateful for him. I'm in love with, Y/N. Admitting the truth is freeing. Though I broke the chance to be with her and that scares me to my core

Y/N's P. O. V

I feel a light pain in my middle chest. I blink my eye's my vision blurred. I blink again seeing clearly. I see, my parents and Jai. My mom with tear stained cheeks and Dad nearly weeping. Both of them locked arm's. Jai, sitting on the chair with a saddened look on his face.

"stop moping I'm not dead" I mumbled

"Y/N!" they exclaim

Jai and Dad were the first one's near me. Jai, standing on the right side of the stretcher and my dad on the left. Dad gently touched my face. He started crying. My heart sinks to my gut. He kissed my head.

"oh, my sweet little girl"

"oh, daddy" I touch his hand

He squint his eyes, pinches his nose stuttering. I squeeze his hand that was on my face. He softly smiled and kissed my head again. He moves allowing my mother's shaking hands to cup my cheek.

"Y-you're grounded"

I slightly scoffed she kisses my head. I feel, my brother softly grasp my hand. He uses his other hand rubbing the top of my hand. He takes a quavering breath trying not to cry. I softly smile.

"cry baby" I insult him to try and make him feel better

He gasped smiling with a tear falling.

"shut up, Y/N"

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