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punkshort · 4 months

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somewhere to run | 4. the carnival

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: Joel wants to take things further after you both come clean about your feelings, but some new information comes to light about your past that causes a problem.

Chapter Warnings: language, angst, PTSD type symptoms, mutual pining, boatloads of sexual tension, some sexual situations but no smut

WC: 6.5K

A/N: I'm dropping this chapter and running

Series Masterlist

You awoke the next morning wrapped in a comforting warmth, but not the warmth you were used to from your blankets. You couldn't put your finger on it, but something was different. Why did it seem so much brighter behind your eyelids? Were you in the living room? Then you felt rather than heard a low rumble, the sound reverberating under your palm and through your cheek. A distinct deep, throaty, masculine noise that you never heard before.

Finally, curiosity got the best of you and you opened one eye. Your hand was resting on top of Joel's chest, your leg was intertwined with his. You should have jumped away immediately, but you didn't. You just stared with your one eye still open, watching as your hand rose and fell rhythmically with his breath.

Then you felt his hands on you. One on your hip, the other on your arm and that did it. You sat up quickly. Too quickly. You wrenched yourself out of his grasp and leapt up from the couch, the sudden movement causing him to stir and rub his eyes. Backing up to put more space between you, you wrapped your arms around yourself protectively, staring at him as he sat up and looked around.

"Shit. We must've fell asleep waitin' for the rain to stop," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep and you felt an unexpected jolt between your legs.

He really should have felt guilty. He was a fucking liar. He knew what he was doing last night, but you didn't. You fell asleep all on your own. Innocent and soft and sweet. But he intentionally tucked you into his side, purposefully wrapped his arms around you. Because he was greedy and desperate. Ever since that day, the attempted robbery, he ached to hold you so badly that it was painful. So he was selfish and took what he wanted, but he could see now by the look in your eye that it wasn't the right thing to do. Shit.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, standing up and ignoring the cracking in his lower back. "Nothin' happened," he added, and you blinked rapidly at that, stunned.

"Okay," you managed to whisper, eyes wide as you tried to grapple with the situation. You stared at each other for a moment, each searching the other's eyes, neither of you acknowledging the obvious shift.

Suddenly, an alarm went off on his phone. He broke eye contact to fish it out of his pocket and turned it off, checking the time.

"Gotta get ready for work," he said regrettably, wanting so badly to stay with you, to talk about what happened. He needed to know why. Why were you so distant? Why didn't you want to let him in? He was beginning to second guess the looks you've given him, the color in your cheeks when he flirts with you. Did he completely misread things? Maybe you just weren't attracted to him the same way he was to you. Fuck, he hoped that wasn't it.

"Don't overthink it," he told you curtly, trying to backpedal now that the morning wasn't going at all like he had hoped. "We just fell asleep, that's all."

"Okay," you said again, a little more clearer now.

He looked like he wanted to say more, but he glanced down at his watch and brushed past you to the door. He slipped his shoes on and swung the door open, but the. he paused, his fist tightening on the doorknob before looking back at you once more.

"See you at lunch."

With that, he closed the door behind him. You listened as his heavy footsteps trotted down the steps and then the click of the door unlocking down below. You had to hold yourself back from rushing to the window to watch him leave.

"Fuck!" you shouted out loud to yourself, all alone now in your tiny apartment. You crumpled to the ground and wrapped your arms around your knees, rocking back and forth while you tried not to cry.

You couldn't let this happen. You had to pull back. He didn't know it, but it's for the best. You were doing him a favor. But it was hard. It was so, so hard because for the first time maybe ever, you woke up in someone else's arms and you were happy. Your instinct was right. Avoiding Joel's touch for as long as possible was the right move, because now that you knew what it was like, you craved it. It's only been ten minutes and you already yearned for it again. You were weak. And the worst part was you were going to have to face him again in just a few hours, and you had no idea what you were going to do.

The diner was busy that morning. Maria asked you to clock in right away so you could help take some tables. You were relieved to have the distraction. It helped keep your mind off the time, to stop yourself from counting down the minutes until Joel's broad frame walked through the front door.

It was late in the morning when the rush finally died down and you were helping Betty clean all of the abandoned tables in the dining room. You lost count of how many bus tubs you filled up so far as you hoisted the latest one on your hip and made your way to the dish area in back. One of the other waitresses, Gina, gave you a sideways glance as you walked by. You smiled at her but she didn't return it. In fact, it almost felt like she was mad at you. You hardly spoke to Gina since you started. Your shifts didn't usually overlap. It was ridiculous to think she would be mad at you. But something was definitely off because another older waitress, Vicky, who was never very outgoing but never really gave you a hard time, either, glared and muttered something under her breath as you passed by her in the kitchen. You frowned and turned around, watching her shake her head and continue to mutter to herself as she made her way out into the dining room.

"Betty?" you said quietly when you found her alone behind the counter.

"What's up, sweetie?" she asked as she filled the coffee machine.

"Did I do something to offend anyone?"

She paused what she was doing and considered her response before setting the coffee down and glancing around.

"What makes you ask?"

"I'm probably just being paranoid but it feels like some of the waitresses here don't really like me for some reason," you said, then chuckled. "I sound crazy, I'm sorry."

"They're just jealous, hun. Don't let it bother you, they'll get over it," she whispered, then turned back to the coffee machine.

"Jealous? Of what?" you asked, completely taken aback. So it wasn't just all in your head.

"We live in a real small town, I know you ain't used to that but what people do 'round here never stays secret for long," she said, as if that somehow answered your question.

"What does that have to do with me?"

She smiled at you and gave you a knowing look, but you were still confused.

"Oh, c'mon. You don't gotta play coy with me. Connie was openin' up the boutique this mornin' and saw Joel leave your apartment."

All of the blood drained from your face.

"What?" you whispered in disbelief.

"Nothin' to be ashamed 'bout, sweetie. All the women 'round here either want him, or they want their daughters to have him. They're just ticked he's finally off the market, is all," she explained, walking past you to greet a customer, but you grabbed her elbow, making her swivel around in surprise.

"I'm not - we aren't - that's not at all what happened!" you stuttered, your face growing hot now.

"Sure, hun," she said with a wink, then turned on her heel to greet the man at the end of the counter, leaving you slack jawed and shocked.

"Oh my god," you whispered, turning away from the counter to hide your face. How could this day get any fucking worse?

You heard someone sit down at the counter and clear their throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut. You knew that sound already. When you turned around and met Joel's eyes, he frowned, sensing immediately that something was wrong.

"C'mon, you can't still be upset about earlier," he said as you approached, and you winced.

"It's not that," you murmured, glancing around and noticing a couple of the waitresses from across the dining room watching you and whispering. You felt your stomach clench with anxiety.

"Then what's wrong?"

You looked back at him again, your eyebrows pinched with worry.

"Someone saw you leave this morning and now the whole town thinks we're sleeping together," you said as quietly as you could, your eyes still flicking around the dining room, trying your best to make your interaction with him look as innocent as possible.

"Oh," he said, sitting back in his chair as he thought about what you said. He looked around and saw a couple of the waitresses giving you nasty looks and he sighed.

"I'm so sorry," he said, shaking his head. "I'll set people straight, I promise. Just gimme the rest of the day and I'll make it right."

You immediately felt bad when you saw the stress and exhaustion that appeared on his face.

"Don't - it's fine. You have more important things to worry about," you said, picking up a clean mug and filling it with coffee for him.

"You're important to me, too, y'know," he said softly.

"Joel-" you said, setting the coffee pot down and pinching the bridge of your nose. He cut you off.

"You don't gotta say anythin'," he said, swallowing his pride.

"It's just not a good time for... this," you said, your voice pained as you pointed between the two of you quickly, then dropping your hand so no one else would see.

The way he looked at you caused your chest to squeeze and you felt the tears burning in the backs of your eyes. You could see it written all over his face, although he tried to mask it, it was clear you hurt him.

"Can't we just be friends?" you finally asked.

"Yeah," he said quietly, then looked down at the menu. "That's - yeah, 'course we can."

And you thought your day couldn't get any worse.

Miraculously, after only a couple of weeks, the people in town seemed to move on from the rumor about you. You couldn't be sure if it was Betty or Joel or just the passage of time that did it, but the women in town stopped giving you nasty looks and you stopped hearing whispers after you walked by a table at work.

You knew it was for the best. You knew you were saving Joel from all your bullshit and that was the right thing to do, but selfishly you wished you could have him all to yourself. Was that so wrong? To just want something that was good and sweet, something that made you feel hopeful? Didn't you deserve that?

Joel stopped appearing outside of work as well. You found yourself looking for him all the time now. When you walked back home after work, when you were at the grocery store, everywhere you went you looked for him or Sarah, missing them both, but you never saw them. The town was so small, how the hell was it even possible?

At least he still came into the diner, but you got what you asked for. He stopped flirting with you and he treated you as a friend and nothing more when you waited on him. And even though you were the one who drew the line in the sand, you hated it.

It was your day off and you found yourself at the library picking up the book you had on hold for that month's book club selection. You were surprised you were still invited to the book club meeting after the rumor about you and Joel spread through town like wildfire, but you had a sneaking suspicion Hailey was the driving force behind your invite. You considered turning it down, but what would be the point in that? Then you'd really be all alone.

The library was peaceful. Sometimes when you felt especially lonely, you found a quiet corner when you stopped by to read, which is what you decided to do that day. There was something soothing about it, knowing people were nearby, but you also didn't feel forced to talk to anybody. That was, until you heard a young girl's soft, familiar voice heading in your direction. You heard her say your name, her voice hushed so as not to disturb the other patrons, and you dragged your eyes up from your book to give her a little smile.

"Sarah, hi," you said, standing up as she approached. And sure enough, Joel's towering frame trailed moments after her. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him stiffen but then force himself forward. Inwardly, you cringed at his reaction to seeing you, but you knew you had nobody to blame but yourself.

"What're you reading?" she asked, tilting her head to the side to try to read the title of the book left hanging limply in your hand.

"Oh, it's for a book club I'm in," you said, lifting it up to show her. She nodded and scanned the cover.

"Any good?"

"I just started it but so far, it's not too bad. I wouldn't have picked it for myself, but that's the cool thing about a book club. Sometimes you read things you wouldn't normally think you'd like," you said, glancing up at Joel standing behind her, giving him a polite smile. Sarah's eyes drifted between you and her dad, and she got a playful look in her eye.

"Will we see you at the carnival tonight?" she asked you, and you dropped your gaze from Joel back to her.

"Oh, yeah I heard about that," you told her, then lowered your voice when you saw an older woman glance up at you three angrily. "No, I wasn't planning on going." You considered it, but you weren't friendly enough yet with Hailey to join in with her friends and you felt funny going alone.

"Oh, come on! It's only one weekend a year, and the entire town goes. It's so much fun, you'll love it!" she said, bouncing on her feet and ignoring the dirty looks she was getting.

"Shh, babygirl, you're bein' too loud," Joel finally spoke up behind her. The deep, low tone he used reminded you of what he sounds like when he first wakes up in the morning, and you felt a familiar stirring below your waist at the sound.

"Uh, I don't know then, maybe," you finally relented, just to hopefully quiet her down.

"Dad usually takes me to the same spot for dinner every year, it's a fried chicken stand and the line is like, a mile long but the wait is so worth it. Do you wanna join us?"

"Sarah," Joel whispered warningly.

"What?" she whispered back, annoyed.

"If I go, I'll definitely find you, how's that sound?" you told her, hoping that would be enough to end the conversation. The awkwardness was just too much at this point. It wasn't her fault, she was just a kid.

"Promise?" she begged, big brown eyes all wide. She knew exactly what she was doing.

"Promise," you assured her. She grinned then turned to Joel.

"I'm gonna go check out the DVDs," and before he could reply, she hurried away. If you didn't know any better, you would have thought she was intentionally trying to get the two of you alone.

His eyes trailed after her, his hands on his hips and his jaw ticked to the side as he struggled with what to say.

"Don't worry 'bout it, if you don't wanna go later."

"Oh... okay," you said, and he must have heard the uncertainty in your voice because he finally looked at you.

"Unless you want to, you're more than welcome to join us. Just didn't want you to feel like you had to," he explained, eyeing you up closely.

"She put up one hell of a case for it," you said with a smile.

"Yeah, she tends to do that," he said with that grin that made your knees weak, then dropped his gaze to the floor.

You were so stupid. Why did you push him away? Well, you knew why, but it still wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to either of you.

"Well, I should go," he said, still looking at the floor, racking his brain for something else to say to keep him near you, but he knew it would just cause him more pain in the long run.

You nodded and he finally looked up at you, holding your gaze for a moment before he forced himself to move. He only took a couple steps before you spoke.

"Fried chicken?"

He stopped and turned around in surprise before slowly nodding his head.

"Nothin' like it," he said. You furrowed your brow as if deep in thought.

"Maybe I'll come see what all the fuss is about," you told him. You knew you were sending him mixed signals, you knew it wasn't right, but you missed him. You missed the way he made you feel. Safe.

He let a slow smile spread across his face before he shrugged and pursed his lips.

"You won't regret it," he said with a wink that made your heart flutter.

Before you could think of anything to say, he disappeared down the row of books in search of Sarah.

It only took you the rest of the afternoon to figure out what you were going to wear and how to do your hair. And you didn't want to admit it, but it was the happiest you felt in a long time. You knew deep down that you shouldn't feed into this little crush you had, but what was the harm in having a little fun? It didn't have to mean anything. You could spend time with Joel as just friends. But every time you overthought your outfit you needed to remind yourself he is just a friend. This was not a date. The yellow dress you picked up from a second hand store that fell right above your knee was not necessarily a 'date' dress. It could pass as a casual dress. You definitely didn't choose it because you wanted to look good for him. It was hot out, and the dress kept you cooler than a T-shirt and shorts. That's all it was.

After you parked and paid for admission, you picked up a map at the entrance and scanned the fairgrounds, trying to pinpoint where you currently were in relation to the food stands. Sarah was right: the entire town seemed to be there. The place was packed as you made your way through the crowds, occasionally stopping to check out a vendor or watch someone win a prize at a game you most definitely wouldn't be any good at. When you started to smell sugar and fried food, you knew you must be close, so you began to pay closer attention to the booths, scanning for a place that advertised fried chicken.

It was easier to spot than you thought. The line really was a mile long. And the food smelled delicious. You slowed down so you could scan the crowd, trying to find them when you heard your name from behind. You turned with a smile to see Joel and Sarah already seated at a picnic table with half eaten food in front of them and Sarah waving you down. As you approached their table, Joel slid a plate of untouched chicken towards the empty spot next to him, hiding a smile behind his food as his eyes lingered a moment too long on your dress.

"How'd you know I would show up?" you asked him with a grin as you sat down, your mouth watering as you inhaled the delicious aroma.

"Lucky guess," he said as he bit into a chicken leg. You picked up a piece and took a bite, Sarah watching you for your reaction with bated breath. You moaned and nodded to her, still chewing, but giving her a thumbs up. She was right once again.

"Told ya," she said with a grin.

"Do you guys come here every year?" you asked, covering your mouth as you spoke while you chewed. She nodded and swallowed.

"Every year since as far back as I can remember," she said. "It's like a tradition. We always come for the chicken and Dad always wins me a fish."

"A fish? Like a real fish?"

"Yep. I have a small aquarium at home. I have one fish that's been alive for like, five years, I think. Right, Dad?"

"Somethin' like that," he said with a nod, dropping his gaze to his plate.

"Wow," you replied. "That's pretty impressive for a carnival fish."

"I know. Dad says I have the magic touch. That maybe I should be a vet, or a zookeeper, or a marine biologist."

"You would be awesome at any of those things," you said with a smile. Joel's eyes flicked back and forth between you as you spoke, the warmth in his chest blooming at the way Sarah looked at you.

"Thanks. I've always loved animals, I think I would like to do something like that when I grow up. What did you want to be when you were little?"

"Me?" you asked, taken aback by the question. "You know, I barely even remember. I think for a while I wanted to be a teacher. Then I got older and... I don't know. I worked odd jobs here or there, then I didn't work for a while, and now I'm here."

"Did you work as a waitress before?" she asked. Joel stayed suspiciously quiet while you spoke, pretending to focus on his food but in reality was hanging on your every word, eager to learn more.

"A long time ago, yeah," you said after swallowing a bite of chicken.

"Do you like it at Uncle Tommy's?"

"Sarah, give her a second to eat, will ya?" Joel finally interjected, giving her a look. You laughed and waved him off.

"It's okay. Yes, I really like it at the diner. Everyone's really nice there. Your uncle is a really good boss."

"Is my dad your favorite customer?" she asked with a playful smirk, and Joel groaned into his palm next to you.

"I mean, obviously," you replied, rolling your eyes and making her giggle.

Fortunately, a marching band was making their way down the main drag of the fairgrounds, drowning out any remaining questions Sarah might have had. Grateful for the break, you ate as much as you could before pushing the rest to Joel, insisting you couldn't finish it. He gave you a fake disappointed look before he finished off the rest of your food, and you giggled as he pretended to scold you while Sarah smiled, watching the two of you quietly.

After you were done, the three of you walked the fairgrounds for a bit, heading towards the rides. Sarah spotted a group of friends from soccer and begged Joel to let her go hang out with them. He nodded, but only after he scanned the group and made sure he recognized the girls.

"She's gettin' to be that age where she ditches me for all her friends," he said as he watched her run off with a couple twenties from his wallet.

"That's gotta be tough," you said sympathetically, your eyes drifting over the different rides as you walked past.

"Not so much today," he replied, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye and watching your cheeks flush.

"Joel..." you said quietly. You needed to remind the both of you where you stood. Now that you were alone, it felt too much like a date, and you felt yourself slipping into that grey territory again.

"I know, I know. Just friends, right?" he said, as if reading your mind.

"Yeah," you said softly, looking down at the ground, unable to look him in the eye. You wanted to be so much more than just friends but you just couldn't let yourself be honest with him.

"It's okay, you know," he said, finally drawing your gaze back to him. "I can be okay with being just friends."

"Really?" you asked, but you felt your stomach twist and the little voice in your head was screaming at you for being such a fucking idiot.

"Yeah, really," he said with a chuckle. "If you don't feel the same way, it's fine. I understand."

"That's not-" you began with a shake of your head. "It's not that."

"Then what is it?" he asked instantly. You paused, not sure how much to tell him. He must have picked up on your hesitancy because he quickly retracted his question.

"Sorry. You don't gotta - just forget it."

"I really like spending time with you. I just have some stuff I need to work through on my own," you finally admitted, not wanting to elaborate further but you felt compelled to give him something.

"Y'know, friends would tell each other what kind of stuff they're strugglin' with," he said with a teasing tone, and you couldn't stop yourself from grinning.

"Is that so?" you replied, and he nodded.

"Oh yeah. All my buddies spill their guts to me whenever they're dealin' with somethin'," he said, pursing his lips to try to keep up the serious facade.

"And what kind of stuff do your friends tell you, Sheriff?" you asked, still smiling as you glanced over at him walking by your side.

"Oh, the usual. Boss is bein' too hard on 'em, car's givin' 'em trouble... girl they like won't call," he said, watching you giggle at the last one.

"What advice do you give them?" you pressed, and he finally grinned.

"Find a new job and take the car in to Connor's," he said with a shrug, as if the answer was obvious.

"And what about the last one?" you asked slowly, biting your lip and keeping your gaze fixed straight ahead. You knew you shouldn't encourage him, but you couldn't help yourself.

"That one's tougher," he said with a dramatic sigh. "But I would tell 'em not to give up. And if they have an adorable daughter, I would tell 'em to bring her around to help play matchmaker."

You giggled and he smiled, pleased every time he could make you laugh. He had to resist the urge to reach out and hold your hand. He missed talking with you like this too much to risk ruining it again, and if this was all you were willing to offer him, he would take it.

As you walked by a carnival game, Joel chuckled under his breath at the men trying and failing to impress their girlfriends by shooting poorly at the moving targets with fake guns. One of them heard his laugh and twisted around.

"You think you can do any better, Sheriff?" one balding man asked with a smirk.

"I should hope so, Kenny," Joel said, stopping and shoving his hands deep in his pockets.

"Why don't you put your money where your mouth is, then?" another man said with a grin. A couple people walking past overheard the conversation and stopped to watch.

Joel shrugged and turned back to you.

"D'you mind?"

"Not at all," you said, waving him forward. You stood back with your arms crossed and watched as Joel tossed a five dollar bill on the table and took a seat on an empty stool. He picked up the toy gun and twisted it around in his hand, testing the weight and the sight before readjusting himself, spreading his legs wide and straightening his back. Your mouth went dry as you watched him lean forward and take aim before slowly letting a breath pass through his lips, gently squeezing the trigger and hitting the moving target right in the center.

A chorus of groans and jeers from the other men drowned out the low sound you made before you took a deep breath and watched him take aim once again. Your gaze was too focused on him and the way he handled himself with such ease and confidence to notice that the crowd behind you grew bigger, some were even recording it on their phones.

When Joel repeated the same action, deftly squeezing the trigger and once again hitting his mark, you felt a pull below your waist that completely distracted you from the loud cheers.

Three more times you watched Joel take aim and hit a bullseye without even breaking a sweat. Your pulse was racing and your knees felt weak by the time he stood up with a bashful smile and took a bow for the crowd. His gaze landed on yours and his smile faltered when he saw the look in your eye, but his attention was immediately stolen by the teenager running the game.

"Here you go, man," he said, handing over a stuffed penguin half your size.

"Christ, Joel, way to make us look bad," Kenny teased good-naturedly with a playful punch to his shoulder. Joel grinned and shrugged, his cheeks dusted with the slightest bit of pink.

"Better hit the range, then, boys," he said, turning away from them and heading over towards you, his gaze darkening as he approached.

"Here you go, buddy," he said with half a smirk as he handed you the prize. You cleared your throat, trying to rid your mind of the lust driven thoughts that took over your brain for the past five minutes.

"Don't you want to give it to Sarah?" you asked, hesitantly accepting it.

"Givin' it to you," was all he said, then jutted his chin, urging you to start walking.

"Thank you," you said breathlessly, looking down at the stuffed animal as you let him lead you away.

You walked side by side, a few people stopping to pat Joel on the shoulder and glance at you curiously before you managed to melt back into the crowd.

"That was something else," you finally said, breaking the silence.

"I'm an assassin in my spare time," he joked, and you giggled, the heat rising to your cheeks almost immediately. God, you were so fucked.

You went to the restroom to try to collect yourself, reminding yourself quietly over and over in the mirror he's just a friend, he's just a friend, stop it.

When you came out, your eyes scanned around until you spotted him with a funnel cake sitting at a picnic table with your penguin sitting in the seat next to him, his eyes cast down on the phone in his hand. Fuck, even just sitting there scrolling on his phone, he was too damn good looking. You slid across from him and squeezed your thighs together under the table, looking for some relief and hoping he wouldn't notice.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile, then tucked his phone back into his pocket. "Sorry. Just checkin' in with Sarah." He reached forward, ripping off a piece of the funnel cake and popping it in his mouth, then pushed the plate towards you, encouraging you to help yourself.

"How's she doing?" you asked. You took a bite and then closed your eyes, moaning a little when the sugar hit your tongue. When he didn't respond right away, you opened your eyes and paused your chewing. His eyes raked over your face slowly, his heated stare burning you from the inside out. You swallowed your food roughly and cleared your throat. Just friends.

"She's good," he finally said softly, still giving you that look that made your heart skip a beat and your insides feel like jelly. You nodded, your head spinning, trying to think of a way to break this sudden tension when he reached out a hand, his fingers pinching your chin and his thumb swiping over your lower lip, collecting some powered sugar that gathered there. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, enjoying the feeling of his touch on your lips. When your eyes reopened, you held your breath as he pulled his hand back and sucked the pad of his thumb into his mouth, his plush lips wrapping enticingly around his finger, refusing to break eye contact.

You could barely breathe. You needed to say something before you lost all control, but unfortunately, he spoke first.

"You're makin' it real hard to be your friend when you make noises like that, sweetheart," he said lowly. You felt the slick between your legs as you pressed your thighs together even tighter.

"You're not exactly making it easy, either, you know," you said, matching his tone. You could see the playful glint in his eye as the corner of his mouth tugged into half a smile.

"Yeah? How's that?"

"Showing off those shooting skills in front of the whole town like it was nothing," you told him, the words tumbling out before you had a chance to think. He leaned across the picnic table and licked his bottom lip.

"You liked that?" he asked, his gaze flicking between your eyes and mouth. You leaned forward as well, getting caught in his magnetic pull.

"Mhmm," was all you managed to get out as you felt yourself falling under his spell.

"Why?"

"Hm?" you asked, looking up and dragging your eyes off his little exposed patch of chest, your mind growing hazy.

"Why did'ya like it?" he clarified. His voice sounded strained and his jaw looked tense as he continued to stare you down across the picnic table. You grinned and sat back, trying to put a little distance between you, hoping it would cause one or both of you to snap out of it, but it didn't work.

"The answer to that question isn't exactly a friendly one," you finally told him, biting your lip to hold back your giggle when you saw his pained reaction. What were you doing? This was so wrong, but you couldn't stop.

"Tell me, I wanna hear it," he whispered desperately, his eyes dark pools of lust as he waited for you to speak.

You knew if you said what you wanted to say, there would be no going back. It would go a step beyond innocent flirting and it could lead you both somewhere you knew you shouldn't go. But you were weak, after all. So you said it, anyway.

"It made me think about what else those hands could do."

It was a good thing you weren't leaning forward any longer because the look in his eye made you believe if you were within reaching distance, he would have had you bent over the picnic table already, dress hiked up around your waist for the whole town to see.

"Fuck," he rasped, finally breaking eye contact so he could rub his face roughly with his palms. Suddenly he dropped his hands back down on the table, his eyes ablaze.

"Come home with me and I'll show you," he begged. Your arousal was becoming far too evident, to the point where you worried you would leave a mark on your dress. You wanted nothing more than to go home with him, but it wouldn't be right. You weren't being honest. He deserved to know the truth before he got mixed up with all your shit.

"That's not very friend-"

"Fuck being friends, I want you," he said, practically out of breath while his hand gripped the side of the table so tightly you thought the wood would crack. "And you want me, too. So what the hell are we doin' here?"

"I-" you stammered, immediately regretting letting this get so far out of hand. You weren't ready to tell him the truth. You knew if you did, it would ruin everything.

"What am I sayin'? I'm movin' way too fast," he said, his tone softening as he misread your hesitancy. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pressure you. We can go slow, okay?"

And because you were so weak, you nodded.

"Slow. Okay."

He leaned back and the look of relief on his face instantly filled you with guilt. If you were going to do this - if you were going to really try to do this with him - you needed to tell him the truth. Sooner rather than later.

He insisted on walking you to your car, his hand finding yours at your side while he carried the stuffed animal with his other hand. The parking lot was dark and quiet the further you got away from the fairgrounds. He was telling you something about being safe at night but all you could hear in your head was tell him! tell him!

When you got to your car, he put the penguin in the front seat and jokingly secured the seatbelt around it, making you smile nervously. You couldn't let this go any further.

But when he rounded the car to say good night and looked at you with those soft, beautiful eyes, you felt the voice in your head grow more distant.

He reached up to cup your face with both hands and looked you in the eye for just a moment before bending down and brushing his lips against yours. It was so soft and sweet and gentle and unlike anything you've ever felt that you just melted into his touch, your shaky hands coming up to his chest. He tasted like sugar and he smelled like heaven and you couldn't get enough, so you deepened the kiss, your tongue tentatively exploring his mouth as he walked you backwards a few steps so you were pushed up against your car. His hands fell from your face to your hips, squeezing them gently with his fingers and pulling you ever so slightly forward so you could feel what you were doing to him. You gasped at the hardness caged within his jeans, and he took the opportunity to venture down your jaw, his lips gently nipping while he went as you instinctually tipped your head back, the sensation far too intoxicating.

"So beautiful," he murmured into your neck. "Gonna take real good care of you one day. Gonna make you forget about every other man who's ever had you, you hear me?"

Your eyes snapped open, reality finally sinking in.

"Joel, wait," you whispered, and reluctantly he pulled back, but he kept his hands firmly on your hips.

"What's wrong?" he asked, lips parted and slightly out of breath from excitement.

"I need to tell you something."

His grip loosened on your hips but he still held them there as he began to grow concerned by the serious look on your face.

"Okay," he said slowly.

You took a shaky breath in, knowing it was now or never.

"I'm married."

Taglist: @harriedandharassed @merz-8 @sarap-77 @nandan11 @anoverwhelmingdin @fandomscollide @survivingandenduring @honeyedmiller @pedropascalsbbg @southernbe @pedrosfanny @gobaaby-blog-blog @eloquentdreamer @yomiyasxx @mrsparknuts @missladym1981 @spacedoutdaydreamer @cosmic006533-blog @prettyinpunk85 @maried01 @sunnyskyapplepie @sawymredfox @gobaaby-blog-blog @stevie75 @mxtokko @sleepylunarwolf

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

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dailypenpen · 4 months

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What do Genshin Men think of with you in their arms? (pt. 2)

characters: Alhaitham, Wriothesley, and Childe

notes: overworked reader (Alhaitham). gn reader, only you pronouns used.

a/n: hello hi um make sure to like and subscribe!! Thank you all for your nice comments on my previous post :) this might not be as good as the prev one 🙇

HERE'S PART 1

Alhaitham thinks you're quite the unique person. You're on the verge of sleep, yet you insist on fighting the urge to shut your eyes. You try, and fail, to rub it out. Your pen is gripped loosely in your hands, your handwriting starting to appear like gibberish.

Alhaitham frowns at your actions, observing you with lidded eyes. Why are you so persistent in keeping yourself awake? Don't you realize that your body is already telling you that it wants to retire right now? He wonders if you got any sleep last night, with how your head is drooping so much. His eyebrows knit together in worry at your state.

You aren't even listening to him anymore, brushing it off with something along the lines of you're not tired. Your lies aren't backed up properly, Alhaitham points out, with how much you're yawning. You groan, now moving to ignore him completely. Your writing is now incomprehensible. You almost planted your face on your papers.

Well, drastic times call for drastic measures. You are in mighty need of a nap.

He grabs you by the shoulders, much like a mother cat with its kitten. He drags you away to the couch with ease. Your sleepy protests are left unheard as he gently sets you down onto the cushions. The moment your body feels the softness of it, your face melts with satisfaction. Alhaitham sighs, sitting next to you. He reaches for your head, letting it lean against his shoulders as the two of you relax.

He glances at you, your tired eyes finally closed. He looks down at your hands and intertwines them with his own. The corner of his lips turned up at the soft sight of it. Who would have thought that someone like him would end up with someone like you? It's puzzling, really. But he chooses not to question it, settling on focusing on you.

Alhaitham presses a soft kiss on your head, his other hand running through your hair. He takes in your features, taking in the ethereal beauty that your entire being exudes. He leans in close, wanting to look at you even more clearly. Tracing the curves of your face, studying it with precision. His eyes trained to look at every part of your face that he deems the most wonderful piece of art his eyes ever laid on. Beating even Kaveh's best work, he muses to himself.

You stir, blinking awake your eyes in hopes that you can catch a peek of him. You try to subtly glance at him but you didn't expect him to look at you like that. To look at you with such softness, with such fondness. With such great intent, great purpose. You can feel your cheeks flush at his heavy gaze. Like by just looking at you, he might find all the answers he seeks.

"Take your rest now, sunshine. You deserve it."

Wriothesley thinks that he is one damn lucky guy. The two of you decided to go on a much needed date after not seeing each other for so long. You wanted to go to this one restaurant, fancy decorations and equally fancy food to be paired with a lovely night together. Of course, who was he to say no to you? He missed spoiling you, hugging you, giving you all the love you rightfully deserve. But work had made both of you busy, so it's no wonder why he immediately jumped to the offer of a date.

He leans against a building near the restaurant, occasionally looking at his pocket watch. He's wearing something more formal, yet still so distinctively him. Wriothesley tugs on his tie, Sigewinne must have tied it a bit too tight for his own liking. It takes half a mind for him to resist the urge to loosen it.

He glances at the people around him, whispering amongst themselves. He knows that some people are looking at him with surprise. The Duke, out in public? Not on official business? He smirks at the thought of their potential questions. The people here can't live without their gossip, can they?

Your voice suddenly calls out for him, Wriothesley instantly perking up. You're running towards him, a huge smile on your face. He opens his arms wide, and you take the cue to jump forwards. He doesn't so much as stumble when you both collide against one another. He wraps his arms around you, taking in your scent and warmth.

At this very moment, he thinks that all is finally well in this world.

You're almost floating off the ground, with Wriothesley lifting you up so that your face is close to his. Your huge grin from before is still present, your hands moving to cup both of his cheeks. He softens instantly, akin to a dog receiving pats from their owner. You could almost see a tail tagging from behind him.

He thinks you look absolutely gorgeous— almost ravishing if anything. You don't often wear clothes like this, but when you do he just relishes in it. He preps kisses on the palms of your hands, smile softening as he hears you chuckle at his actions. He sets you down, not before staring deep into your eyes and leaning ever so closely. He whispers to you, intending that you and only you can hear his proclamation of love. That only you can know about what he truly thinks of you.

"Sweetheart, do you have any idea what you're doing to me?"

Childe thinks he might be in heaven. The two of you just finished a round of sparring with one another, covered in sweat and grim from it. He sighs in satisfaction, knowing that you beat him this time. He'd want nothing more than to shout out to the skies that he lost against his lover. Childe is proud that he lost, because it was against you. He'd be ok with losing, if it was you who was winning.

You lazily lean against his back, gasping for air. You wipe your sweat with your shirt as it hurriedly drips to the ground. All the while Childe is starring intently at you. You don't even notice the way he's looking at you, eyes focused on your exhausted figure. He whistles lowly, eyes glinting with a plan.

Who was he to deny himself of this opportunity?

Before you know it, you feel a weight on your back and you somehow manage not to fall under it. You screech in surprise, turning your head to look at Childe with wide eyes. You try to shake him off you but he's persistent in staying put. He only grins at you, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck. He doesn't care that he's sweaty or that you are too. All he wants right now is to be close to you, even if both of you are filthy and in desperate need for a bath.

You eventually give up, grumbling under your breath. Your hand unconsciously moves to his hair, ruffling it to get the dirt out. He hums in glee, eyes closed and hands tightening around you more. Childe wishes to stay like this forever but he knows that you'll immediately protest to his suggestion. What a bummer, he thinks to himself. You are much too comfortable to let go of. If he had it his way, he would have brought you both to the ground. That way, you won't be able to escape his hugs.

He kisses your cheek, reluctantly releasing you from his embrace. You turn to look at him, wanting to scold him. And dread goes to your face once you look at his playful face. What was he thinking this time? Surely he wouldn't want to spar again? Childe laughs at your expression, and he can almost hear what you're thinking. Really, can you blame him? You give him so much joy and happiness! Who was Childe if he wasn't going to chase that high?

Plus, it's you. He'll never get tired of you, no matter what you both do.

"C'mon babe, you can't be tired already! Come at me!"

Please consider liking and reblogging!!

#I was struggling help KSNIABEJS #al haitham x reader #alhaitham x you #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham fluff #al haitham fluff #alhaitham #wriothesley x reader #wriothesley fluff #wriothesley x you #childe x reader #childe x you #childe fluff #childe #tartaglia #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fluff #penguin writings!!

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munsster · 11 months

Text

best friends kiss

A/N: i LOVE oblivious pining/ yearning trope, see me running it into the ground for the next month give or take

Pairings: Best Friend!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: What’s a heartfelt makeout sesh between good friends? 1.0k words

Warnings: best friends to? lovers, established friendship, fluff, kissing!, denial of romance, obliviousness to the point of frustration, insecurity surrounding relationships, reader uses she/her pronouns otherwise character descriptions are gender neutral, reference to canon

“So… are you two dating?”

Perched side by side, legs intertwined, fingers locked, foreheads nearly touching as giggles pass through the limited space. You’ve got your hand wound into the hair at the back of his head, and his fingertips are digging into your soft and denim-clad thigh like he knows you that well. That intimately.

It’s movie night, and Mike Wheeler doesn’t understand how distinct the line between friends and lovers should be.

You look at each other like the question was outrageously offensive. Like even the thought is abhorrent. Yuck and gross and more laughter as you both vehemently deny any sentiment of the sort.

“Not even close, Wheeler.” His hand is on your thigh.

“It’s too hard to explain best-friendship to youngins these days.” He looks at you with a glimmer in his eye, and you push your fingers through his hair to his neck.

Just an hour before, chocolate fudge had melted down the side of your sundae bowl, coating your fingers in sticky-sweet sludge. Steve had noticed almost immediately—the two of you had been sharing a serving—and seized the cup from your hands, lifting your fingers to his mouth so he could lick the topping from your hot skin.

Everyone was ogling at the two of you. This again.

“Thanks, stud,” you had teased.

“Anything for my darling sweetums.”

A loud snort and a half-cackle later and you two were back to silently sharing a spoon and inching closer beneath your sherpa blanket.

And it wouldn’t be half as weird or awkward in your head if, back at your shared apartment, it wasn’t all silence and shy glances. Back at your shared apartment, there’s no sharing spoons or blankets or handholding or giggling. There is space between your seating arrangements, and your schedules are offset to avoid unwarranted eye contact. It’s awkwardly domestic like there’s something to be nervous about. Something unconfronted and unconfrontable.

Not like it’s ever been uncomfortable. No, the snack bowl is a safe divider for solo movie nights and there’s a diner down the road where the two of you opt to eat in silence and split the check. The silence is welcomed, of course, but different. Different from the hustle and bustle of the high school rascals and Family Video and house parties. Different and, at times, swell.

“Stevie…”

You coo it, and he glances over at you with a mouth full of popcorn, drunk on the gentle way you manage to command his attention like that. The light of the TV drenches your cheek blue and white, and he smiles when you wriggle beneath your blanket.

“Mhm?” There’s popcorn grease painted across his mouth, and it makes you laugh. He rolls his eyes. “Well, would’ya mind helping me out a little?”

“If you insist,” you huff, pushing onto your knees, abandoning the large bowl to the side, one hand firm on his shoulder, the other gripping his jaw. You lean in, and his heart stops when your tongue pokes out against his cupid’s bow. His eyes go wide when you pull back enough to realize what you’ve done.

But he’s already got his fist in the collar of your tee, tugging you into his space once more, mouths open and clobbering for a long-awaited kiss. Or kisses with the way your bodies hold each other closer.

Well, not as long-awaited as legend would have it; the two of you have kissed many times before. On the cheek, on the hand, on the forehead, Hell, even on the mouth. But this time, it’s more than a ‘hello’ or a new year’s eve, it’s without reason and without rhyme in your shared living room on your shared couch with the lights low and nobody but the two of you to bear witness. To breathlessness and close-contact that goes no further than a few needy kisses on a Thursday night.

The half heart necklace that dangles around your neck magnetizes to the matching one he wears. It’s from a theme park gift shop about two hours out of the way of Hawkins and it’ll crumble if you tug it hard enough, but you both convince yourselves it’s better that way. The kids don’t understand your interactions, and they’re in a constantly inconsistent state of ‘why’ and ‘ew’ and curiosity and waiting for something normal to happen. Something less platonic and more tangible, maybe.

Because Steve is treating you like a girlfriend. Not only that, but he’s doing a damn good job at it. He surprises you with hand-picked dandelions and buys drinks for you and gives you discounts and drives you everywhere.

But he’ll deny it.

“Nah, I’d be no good at it”—the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing—“I’ve tried it. I think I was made for the friendzone.”

And as delightful it may be to imagine, you’ll find it unnecessary.

“We’re just good friends. We already do most of the couply stuff, so why try and put a label on it?”

Dustin felt so out of the loop at one point, he decided to conduct his own mock-interview. Set up a stolen borrowed camera from the audio-visual room and hung a sheet up behind his desk chair to act as a backdrop. You had laughed when he called Mr. Steven Harrington into the studio.

“Do I love her?” Steve had laughed and gone a little pink at Dustin’s third question, the first and second being on the subject of favorite colors and ideal first dates. “‘Course, I do. We’re best friends, aren’t we?”

“Aw, c’mon, do I love him? What is this, preschool?” It had made your heart flutter in a moment of unexpected vulnerability. “We’re mature adults, we obviously ove each other.”

Would you ever date each other?

“…”

“Hadn’t thought about it.”

“Hmm, that’s a hard question.”

But Steve still thinks about the way you pressed your tongue to his upper lip, and you still think about the way he looked at you when you pulled away.

masterlist

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #x reader #best friends to lovers #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things #fluff #x fem!reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #established friendship #friends to lovers

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mitfloya · 3 months

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𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐒𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬: 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐲𝐞𝐥

pairings. Rafayel x gn!reader

wc. 6.8K

synopsis. He believes that by isolating you, he can protect you from the outside world and ensure your happiness together. In his twisted mind, this is his way of creating a perfect and eternal bond, you’re his muse, his statue of beauty, his own aphrodite.

warnings. The following content contains elements of obsessive behavior, yandere thoughts, stalking, possessive behavior, and may include poorly written narratives. Reader is referred to as 'you'. Proceed with caution, as this writing may be unsettling or uncomfortable for some individuals.

a/n. Hiyaaa! Thank you so much for the people that have helped me make my post manage to slip through the timeline! I kid you not I had to break my spine with this issues I kept running into (the ori yandere Zayne post is gone, I’m sorry for the inconvenience), if any of you have any suggestions on how to make my post made it into the tags please tell them on the comments section. Get ready and have some snacks and hope you enjoy reading another hc I made

♡ Please reblog and comment on this post are much, much appreciated ♡

A manchild…? you love this guy? Me being a slander and simp at the same time

To put it simply, Rafayel is always the damsel in distress and YOU are his knight shining armor. He needs your attention and protection 24/7, you don’t want him to end up dead, do you? The whole universe will miss him.

First of all, he loves you. Second of all, he hates you.

You’re like a goldfish, how could you not remember the vows you both made when you were just a little kid?! The mere fact that you failed to recognize his face shattered his heart into pieces, for you hold immense significance in his life.

The weight of your indifference crashed upon him like a tidal wave, leaving his emotions in ruins. It was like a tornado tearing through his soul, causing a gut-wrenching ache that seemed to consume him from within.

It creates a twisted cycle of emotions that he struggles to contain. He yearns for the love you once shared, yet despises you for not remembering the bond you had.

Perhaps he regrets not taking action in the past to ensure he could always locate you, to have left a distinctive mark upon you as a means of tracking your whereabouts.

You should’ve recognized him at first glance. Where have you been? He thought he lost you, he doesn’t even want to wish upon your death but you make it harder for him not to.

You’ve grown so much and so many changes but you’re still the same person he met at the beach, and it makes him feels so many emotions at once, it’s the first time he has managed to put a rein over his emotions, he could’ve coax you to come to his studio and locked you up, if you were to recognize him.

His heart longed to show much he misses you yet his mind tells him to seek revenge. It’s like his body and soul is splitting. Do you know how much damage you are causing him?

You must understand, my dear, that he is determined not to repeat past mistakes. It is time for him to take drastic measures, to make a promise that will bind you to him forever. He sees you as his ultimate protector, his unwavering shield. From this moment forward, you will never leave his sight again.

In his eyes, you have always belonged to each other, from the very beginning. Your destinies intertwined, your fates entangled. He craves the security of knowing that you are by his side, guarding his every step, his every breath. No longer will he allow even the smallest sliver of distance to separate you.

From the beginning you are his as much as he is yours.

His artistic talent is both his greatest strength and his greatest weapon. Through his art, he immortalizes his love and hatred for you, capturing the complexities of his emotions with every stroke of the brush. His creations serve as a constant reminder of his twisted desires.

Initially consumed by hatred, he concealed his love, allowing it to resurface gradually, in subtle and tender ways.

It’s the slowest burn you could ever imagine. Painstakingly slow.

As Rafayel's hatred gradually diminished, he began to express his feelings more openly, albeit subtly, leaving significant hints about the depth of his emotions towards you. Similar to a small forest fire that grows steadily, each progression was deliberate and methodical until it consumed the entire forest, an uncontrollable blaze that can’t be extuingish.

Say goodbye to freedom and welcome to his world, now that you’re his. He will be the center of your universe.

Clinginess is an inherent trait of Rafayel's nature. He craves your presence and attention, unable to bear the thought of being separated from you even for a moment. He will go to great lengths to ensure that you never leave his side.

You've grown accustomed to his playful nature and constant need for attention, but be prepared for an amplified version, as his demands intensify. Good luck dealing with your man ♡

He is a man of pride, he immortalizes you through his art, proudly showcasing pieces dedicated to you at his exhibitions. While abstract in form, this exclusivity serves to intrigue others, leaving them pondering what makes you so special in his eyes.

Unknown to you hidden away within his personal stash, there is a gallery dedicated solely to you. Every piece of artwork revolves around your existence, capturing his obsession with meticulous detail. The walls are adorned with portraits, each stroke of the brush reflecting his twisted love for you.

But at the very least, he showers you with lots of love and affection, no more holding back.

In relationships, he presents himself as a calm and romantic partner, radiating an aura of serenity akin to the sea. He enjoys spending quality time with you, whether it be casual outings or simply sharing space in silence. With him, you will never feel alone.

But do not be deceived by the calm waters, for they possess the ability to draw you into the depths of darkness, leaving you submerged and unable to resurface. His obsession remains unpredictable, much like the ever-changing tides of the sea.

Oh, how you've stumbled into his clutches the moment you made that fateful vow. There is no turning back, my dear. You have fallen into the siren's trap, lured by his haunting charm. You are now forever entwined in his grasp, unable to break free. You should have thought twice before crossing paths with him if you weren't planning to stay.

He has two preferred methods of dealing with nuisances. He may choose to be smug and show off his superiority, rubbing his success in their faces. He revels in flaunting his success and talents, using them as a means to intimidate and belittle those who dare to steal you away.

However, if they persist, he is unafraid to resort to physical means, utilizing violence to eliminate them from your life. He goes to extreme lengths, even shedding blood and concealing the evidence of his actions, all in the name of safeguarding your well-being and maintaining his possessive hold over you.

His possessiveness knows no bounds, his desire to claim you as his own overpowering any sense of reason. He will go to great lengths to ensure that no one else can possess you, viewing you as his ultimate masterpiece.

When faced with difficulty or resistance from you, Rafayel won't hesitate to take drastic measures. He is willing to use any means necessary, including drugs, to put you to sleep and kidnap you. He will isolate you in his studio, ensuring that you will be together forever.

His studio, the place where he creates his art, becomes both a sanctuary and prison for you. Within its walls, he controls every aspect of your existence, dictating your every move and stifling your individuality. It is a place where his obsession can flourish unchecked.

You will forever remain under his possession, as he claims you and binds you eternally.

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace headcanons #yandere hcs #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel #qi yu #yandere rafayel #yandere rafayel x reader #yandere rafayel x you #yandere rafayel x yn #rafayel x reader #rafayel x you #rafayel x y/n #dividers by cafekitsune

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thebestofoneshots · 6 months

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MARAUDWEEEN

Feels Like The First Time | James Potter x reader

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 6 k

Warnings: Smut, fingering, P in V, lots of praise, consent is sexy, lusty!James, bashful!James, he literally can't take his eyes off you.

Prompt: As a part of the Marauween Series, this fic takes you to an Alternate Universe where James Potter is a fireman, telling the story of how you met, and how your first time came about.

Maraudween is a Halloween-inspired anthology series where each chapter transports you into a distinct alternate universe. From the real world to old western Texas and even through the dark times of vampires. These standalone tales invite you into a realm of boundless potential. Experience the enchantment of Halloween as it weaves its spell, intertwining the magic of costumes, AUs, terror and spice.

NSFW (Smut under the cut) ♡

“What can I get you, sir?” You asked, not looking up from the register as you were trying to close the tab of the previous order. The machine had been acting up lately and no matter how hard you tried, it seemed to take its sweet time between closing an old order and opening the feed to start a new one.

You were almost scowling at it when you heard a low chuckle from behind the counter, you instantly recognized it. The cute fireman, you felt your cheeks flush at the thought.

“Everything all right, angel?” he asked, voice soft even as a little smirk played on his lips.

“James!” you said with a smile, deciding to ignore the machine and talk to the man instead. He lived a few blocks away, in your same building, and he always passed by the shop to get some coffee and a snack before he finished his walk to work. Sometimes he came on his way back too, he was over so often, that you almost knew his orders by memory, “Americano?”

He shook his head “I’m feeling up for something sweeter today.”

You hummed in response, running his typical orders in your head “Late with a pump of strawberry?”

He tilted his head, seemingly thinking about it, you couldn’t help to let your eyes linger over his uniform. He’d typically alternate between blue, yellow and grey. Today he was wearing grey and you would be lying if you said he didn’t look disarmingly attractive. He was big and well built too, but that was a lot easier to appreciate on hotter days when he wasn’t wearing his jacket on top of the usual either crisp white or neat black shirt, “Yeah, that’s perfect.”

You smiled and started writing down the details in his cup. When you realised there was no one on the line behind him, you decided to prepare his drink yourself, instead of passing it over to Marcus, your coworker, and better barista between the two. James knew, and yet, he much better liked the drinks you prepared.

“Want me to add a bit of whipped cream?” You asked.

“You spoil me,” he said with a smile, you turned to give him a questioning look, a smile playing on your lips as he nodded, perhaps that’s why he liked your drinks best, they almost always came along with a smile.

“You do spoil him,” Marcus added as he used one of the machines to draw pictures over a latte.

You gave him a pout as an answer and continued with your preparation. Once it was done you turned around, Marcus had gone off to tend some table and you walked over to James, handing him his cup straight to his hands. His fingers lingered over yours as he took it from you and you felt your stomach flutter, “I’d add some cinnamon for spice,” you told him, he nodded and walked over to the sugar table, doing exactly as you told him.

“Hey, James?”

“Hmm…?”

“Good luck at work today,” you added with a smile, Marcus from one of the tables almost rolled his eyes, while James’ smile only widened.

There was a huge fire that day, you saw it on the news on the small TV in the corner of the shop, one of the old buildings near the centre of the city had caught fire. Since it had been during work hours there hadn’t been that many people inside, and thankfully no one died but about 2 dozen had ended up in the hospital due to smoke toxicity. Or so was reporting the news lady.

“Do you think James’s all right?” you asked, turning to Marcus with a little frown.

“Why don’t you go home and check on him? He lives almost in front of you anyway. This happened about an hour ago, he might be there soon...”

You nodded, and hurried with the wiping of tables, still looking a bit nervous and rushed “I’ll finish up closing,” he added.

“Thank you,” you said as you went to pick up your stuff and remove your uniform from the back room.

Marcus called your name, you turned to him “Bring him something. His favourite treat of whatever… I’m sure you already know it by memory.”

“I… Well, I mean…”

“Don’t play dumb and just take it to him, whatever it might be. Would serve you well, maybe admit that you like him as well.”

You flushed “Shut it, Marcus.”

“He likes you back, did you know?” You gave him a look “Hey it’s true! I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

“He’s just polite.”

“Polite my ass, he’s never looked at me like that. Go on, knock on his door, patch him up and admit your crush. Maybe get it going with him too. What do you think he’d look like with those snug pants and a pair of suspenders? Only a pair of suspenders.”

You flushed a lot more this time around, the image floating to your brain unprompted, and you weren’t able to shake it off that easily. Curse your imaginative mind and Markus’ dirty one to put the idea in your head.

“So… his favourite treat?”

“It’s the lemon tart,” you admitted reluctantly. “He orders it whenever he’s feeling down. And also after bad days.” Markus smiled and leaned down to take two of them and place them on a small box for you to take home, “Thank you.”

“Thank me when you’ve seen him with only pants and suspenders!” he joked, and you shook your head in disbelief, a smile still plastered on your face as you did.

You got home after a short walk and went straight for a quick shower. It was then that you heard the thud of heavy boots in the hallway. He was walking towards his apartment. You hurried to finish and changed into simple shorts and a sweatshirt before walking the 2 door distance to his apartment. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

There was no answer, you considered leaving, your nerves getting the best of you, but you remembered you still had the lemon tarts and decided to try again. This time you heard some shuffling and then the door opened, revealing James, still wearing his uniform, hair clinging onto his face from sweat and blotches of soot patching his cheeks, he looked tired, but he smiled the moment he saw who it was at the door. “Fancy seeing you here, darling.”

You swallowed, his gaze having a powerful effect on you “I… I uh… I saw the news and well, I assumed you had been there, I guess I was right,” you added after gesturing toward your face, trying to refer to how blotchy he was “I thought I’d come to check if you were all right… I also brought you some of those lemon tarts you really like.”

He stared at you for a second, as if trying to process the fact that you really had taken the trouble to bring him food, just because he’d had a tough day. When he realised you really were there, and not only a fragment of his imagination, he smiled “You picked my favourites,” he said pointing at the box.

You gulped, as if scared of getting caught but nodded “You… order them often,” you said with a shrug.

He hummed “And you know all of your client’s orders?” he asked, a flirty tone slipping as he moved to the side to let you in, nodding towards the kitchen, although you already knew where it was, since the layout of his apartment was almost an exact mirror of yours.

“Only the ones of my favourites,” you responded, which got him to raise his eyebrows as he pulled out two plates and a pair of forks, placing them on the counter. You opened the small box and gracefully served one of the pies on each of the plates, he didn’t wait too long to dig in, moaning at the sweet and acidic flavour.

“You’re the absolute best,” he told you as he continued to eat “Getting this after a fire might be the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You just giggled at his exaggeration, you didn’t know he didn’t mean only the pie, but also your company. As the two of you finished your meal, you stood up to go back to your apartment but he stopped you, a hand gripping softly onto your forearm “Hey wait!” You turned to him “Let me pay you back.”

You gasped and then shook your head. “Oh no, don’t worry about it, I get free treats since I work there.” But he didn’t let go of your arm just yet.

You saw him bite his cheek, looking to the side as if trying to find the right words “Regardless, I– Let me take you out, yeah?”

“Out… to the door?” You asked with a frown “I mean I know where it is but–”

“Out on a date.”

“You want to– Me?!?” He nodded fervently in response.

“So...?”

You smiled, you were sure you were blushing madly but his nervousness only made him even more adorable “I’d love that.”

He’d taken you to a small Italian restaurant that his friend Sirius had recommended, he told you about his life, about how he got into firefighting and you told him about yours, how you were working at the cafe as a side job to pay for your online studies. He thought you were a hero, which was almost ridiculous because if anyone was saving people between the two, it had been him.

After that date you went on many others, he frequented the cafe a lot more often, sometimes to order something, sometimes to drop by a bouquet of roses or some other kind of flower. Markus had teased you relentlessly after that, but he really was happy to see you happy. He also started giving you treats to take home a lot more often, but that was because he knew you were always sharing them with James.

“Thanks love, see you at dinner?” James asked as he took the takeaway coffee cup from your hands, you had written “Prongs,” and drew a pair of antlers on it just to tease him, since he’d told you about his friends giving him that nickname in school.

You nodded in response “Sure, want me to bring something?”

He leaned over the counter as if it were about to say something of the utmost secrecy “How about some of those chocolate tarts?” he whispered.

“Sounds about perfect to me,” you agreed and gave him a quick peck on the cheek before pulling back. He smiled dumbly after that and waved on the way out, almost bumping into a tall teacher who was also your regular.

“Watch your step, lover boy,” he told him. That day you found out Remus –the teacher who was a regular– and your boyfriend not only knew each other, but had been best friends for the longest time. He’d told you about him many, many times, but you had no way of knowing the calm, concentrated teacher who sat on his laptop grading students was the same mastermind prankster he always called Moony.

“So… how does he look in suspenders?” Markus asked you as he eyed your boyfriend finally leaving.

“Oh… well, I mean… I haven’t– we haven’t-“

“Shut it,” he said turning to you “You’ve been dating for a while now, like 2 months, right? Didn’t you tell me you slept at his apartment the other night?”

“Yeah, I mean, I did… I fell asleep watching the telly and he didn’t want to wake me.”

“I thought you meant something else…” he said as he shook his head “Maybe he’s asexual,” he added with a shrug “Total bummer for you.”

You frowned “I don’t think he– I think he’s just trying to be a gentleman.”

Markus shook his head, unconvinced “Have you tried to initiate anything?”

“We’ve snogged a couple of times.”

“And when it gets more heated?”

You shrugged “Don’t know what to tell ya.”

He hummed “You need to try harder.”

“I need to try?”

“Well to find out at least, don’t you want to?”

You shrugged it off then, but truth be told, the idea had already cemented itself in your brain. You paid closer attention to the times you snogged after that. Be it on the couch, or the counter of yours or his kitchen, it was always romantic kisses and even if he certainly seemed affected, be it his ragged breath, pink lips or expanded pupils, he never pushed for more. Perhaps he really was waiting for you to initiate things.

A few nights later, there was another fire, you had already gotten the key to his apartment so you waited over at his, bringing over some cream puffs and setting yourself on the couch while you waited. He arrived a little late, covered in soot like he had that first time you walked into his house with lemon tarts in your hand. He smiled the moment he spotted you on his sofa “Fancy seeing you here, darling,” he teased, echoing the words he’d said that first night.

You smiled “How are you feeling?” you asked.

He sighed, his shoulders slumped at that “We couldn’t… One of them didn’t make it.” You frowned, you knew he’d torment himself about it all night, so you walked over to him, taking a wet towel as he sat near the counter and started wiping some of the soot from his face.

“‘S not your fault.”

“But if we had gotten there sooner maybe–“

You pulled his chin, making his eyes look straight into yours “Jamie,” you said sternly, trying to ground him “It’s not your fault.”

He sighed again “I know, I know…” he said, and buried his head in your neck, smelling your perfume as he grabbed onto your hips, “Stay over tonight?” he asked “Please, I don’t– I don’t want to be left alone with my thoughts.”

You smiled, placing your hand on the back of his head, brushing it lightly over his messy hair before settling it at the nape of his neck “Of course, my love,” you responded simply, and pulled his shoulders back to look straight at his face “come on, let’s get to the sofa, maybe we can play something on the telly to get your mind off things.”

He pouted “I’m sweaty, and I smell of charred wood.”

You tilted your head, a small smile drawing on your lips “I think you look sexy,” you teased, before grabbing his hand to pull him up and towards the sofa. He had a diverted look as he followed.

They were screening Karate kid for like the 5th time that week, but both of you were watching it patiently. That was until the commercial break started and you turned to James, he had a small frown on his face, almost imperceptible, as if he were trying to hide it from you, but you knew him well enough to know. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

James turned to you, a sorrowful look in his beautiful hazel eyes, “I found them, I tried, but…” You kneeled on the sofa and gave him a bone-crushing hug, or at least your version of one, since you had about half the strength he did anyway. Regardless, you heard the huff of a laugh coming from him.

You gave one last look at the telly, they were still going on some infomercial about a magical razor, yeah, no way in hell he gets distracted by that. “Hey Jaimie,” he hummed in response “How about we find another way to get your mind off things?” you asked, pulling back a little so he could see your face.

He gave you a look, “Like playing Monopoly or…” he didn’t even finish his sentence since you crashed your lips against his with a kiss. He was surprised at first but followed the kiss shortly after. Tightening his grip on your waist.

“Like this?” you said as you pulled out for air. He still had a bit of a frown, so you leaned into him again, determined to erase it with a kiss. He pretty much melted into you again, at some point you crossed your knee over his lap and you were straddling his thigh. You didn’t lean closer to him too fast, you wanted to give him some time.

Your lips started to travel from his lips to his jaw, he was right, he was sweaty, you could feel the salty taste of it as you kissed, and there was something else too, a little bit of that smoked flavour going on. You didn’t care, if anything, it really made him feel sexier. You landed on his neck, and started pressing wet kisses on a section you knew from experience he liked, and you heard a low moan coming from his throat, music to your ears.

“Wait… wait… hold up,” he said as he patted your shoulder softly, you didn’t pull back “Angel, please, I’m gross right now…”

“Don’t care,” you said between kisses “I like the way you taste.”

He stifled grunted after you said that –partly because of what you said, partly because of the way you sucked onto a particularly sensitive part of his neck– it was hard enough for him to restrain himself as it was, and you saying things like that was only making it harder.

You, without quite noticing what you were doing, started grinding against his leg, not quite against his crotch yet thought, you could still think enough to know it’d be too soon. You leaned back, trying to get to his mouth when you spotted him, he had a rather interesting expression on his face, brows furrowed, as if he was trying really hard to concentrate on something, or not to concentrate on something.

You smiled, holding back a laugh before placing your hand on his cheek, he opened his eyes, a worried look on his face “James, what is it darling?”

He swallowed, his breath was heavy, “I’m just… I’m trying not to– thinking of something else.” You raised an eyebrow at him, not sure exactly what was going on until you saw his gaze flicker down to his crotch.

“Oh.” You said quietly, and then, in an outburst of bravery, pulled your hand down to pat him. He hissed, grabbing your hand and pulling it back.

“That– that’s going to make it worse.”

You smiled again, tilting your head just a little as you stared at your beautiful boyfriend “Allow me,” you said softly “I want to make it worse.” He looked at you as if he was trying to decipher whether what you were saying was true, and you leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek “Pretty please?”

You had your forehead against his when he bit his lip and nodded, letting your hand free as you pushed it towards his crotch again. He was a lot harder than you had initially assumed he’d be, but you started rubbing your hand up and down regardless, feeling out his entire length which was nothing short of surprising. His head had somehow ended up on your shoulder again “fuck,” he said and trailed off with a few other curse words you weren’t sure you had heard him say before “That feels incredible Angel, You feel so good,” he whispered.

Eventually, you pulled your hand backward and he gave you the most reproachful look, “Hey… I want to be able to kiss you,” you said softly before leaning in for a kiss and finally closing the gap between your bodies. You had been wearing a pair of simple lycra shorts, so everything felt very close when you finally leaned your hips over his, grinding your core against the rough texture of his firefighter pants.

James was about to moan when you pulled him into a kiss again, so he moaned into your mouth, half attempting to return the kiss. His hands had now travelled to your hips, and he was helping you grind onto him, gripping almost a little too tight, not that you minded. If anything, you thought seeing this less controlled side of him was the hottest thing.

Your hands travelled to his jacket, he’d been so lost in thought when he arrived home that he hadn’t even taken it off, but that was fine, you could help him with that now. You found the plate box and started to unbutton it one by one, he had been so engrossed in you that he didn’t notice what you were doing until you moved your hands to his inside shirt to push the thick jacket to the side.

He helped you shrug it off and you set it to the side of the couch since you knew how much he cared for it. He gave you a smile through huddled lids and this time around he was the one pulling you towards him for another kiss.

You went to the buttons of his pants this time around, grinding on his thigh in an effort to not stop the buildup you’d already created. “Angel what are you…?”

“Material’s too rough,” you managed to mumble. His eyebrows knit in concern and he helped you in an instant. While he did that you fumbled with your shorts and took them off as fast as possible, not sparing a second glance to see where they fell on the floor, they were pretty ruined either way. He didn’t notice you had done that, not until you went back to straddle him and he felt the wet patch of your panties on his trouser. On his cock.

“Fuck dove,” he said when he realized.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, almost shy, thinking he might think it was gross but he shook his head.

“Don’t be, it’s fucking hot,” he said as he grabbed onto your hips again and started sliding you against him, grinding you against him. This time there was a lot more purpose behind his movements, he was quite literally rubbing you right onto his cock, you could feel it almost in between your folds through the two layers of clothing separating you from each other.

The room started feeling too hot, and you removed your hands from the back of his head and brought them to the hem of your sweatshirt, attempting to pull it off when his hands travelled to yours.

He pulled back from the kiss and stared at you, searching for your eyes “You don’t have to– Not because of the…” he took a deep breath, trying to think straight “We don’t have to do this just to distract me.”

Your expression turned soft, as you looked at him. How on earth did I get so lucky? You thought. You licked your lips, biting the bottom as you brought your hands to the side of his face. “It’s not just because of that, I want to do this Jamie, I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” He swallowed. “You think that sexy little uniform does nothing to me? I’m only human James.” He chuckled, eyes averting to the side in an adorably bashful expression that you were certain only James Potter would be able to pull off. When he looked back you gave him a teasing smile “Help me?” you asked again, nodding down.

This time it was he who bit back a grin, almost giving you a wink before he let his hands to the hem of your hoodie and helped you pull it off. He stared at you for a second. You were wearing a simple sports bra, nothing fancy, in fact, you’d dare say it was a little embarrassing since the bottom hem was frailing a bit already, but that didn’t seem to matter to James. He was staring at you as if he’d seen the hottest woman on earth. As if you had been wearing the most exquisite set of lingerie.

You blushed, obviously, you blushed, and hid your head on his neck so he wouldn’t notice, pretending you were going for a kiss, but he stopped you. “Hold up, I wanna enjoy the view,” he complained.

“When I’m wearing nicer underwear I’ll let you,” you said, pushing against him to go to his neck again, but he was stronger, if he didn’t want you to move, there was no way in hell you’d be able to move.

“Darling, your underwear is the last thing I’m paying attention to,” he said honestly. You took a deep breath and allowed him to pull you back, his eyes were blown with lust as he stared at you, at your bare shoulders he’d seen a couple of times, although not many since you started going out in winter and it still was winter. At the supple curve of your hips. At your breasts, you felt his hand twitch in your shoulder, as if he was holding himself back from touching anywhere else.

“James,” you said, getting him to turn his gaze back to your face, although you noticed it flicker down a couple of times, “You can touch.”

It was as if that had been all the permission he needed, he brought his hands down, letting them roam through your bare waist as you started to grind against him again. He was harder, if that was even possible. He groaned as you rolled your hips against his, and started trailing kisses down your neck, setting in the curve of your breasts as you continued to dry hump him.

He could see your hardened nipples through the thin cotton fabric. He’d actually seen them harden as he kissed, and then he did something you weren’t expecting, he held your waist and pulled you up a little, you almost whined at the loss of contact, but he pushed his head forward and gave an open mouth kiss to your breast, sucking and nipping through the fabric, you were now helping him hold you up with your own legs and holding onto his strong shoulders, absolutely lost in the feeling of his mouth.

He pulled back, giving you a mischievous look as he trailed his fingers over the frilled hem, there was almost an innocence to the way he was looking at you “May I?” he asked.

“Please.” He was already digging his fingers under the hem and pulling it over your head. “You too,” you added, pulling at his shirt. He quickly passed his hand to the neck of his shirt and yanked it off in a second. You gulped, you’d never seen anyone take their shirt off in such a hot way.

He was staring at you as he placed his hand on your waist and pulled you towards his face, this time licking from the underside of your breast all the way to your nipple before he closed his mouth around it and started sucking again, without the fabric in the middle you could feel his wet tongue and teeth grazing against your sensitive skin, you arched against him, and moaned his name when he bit softly.

His other hand was already massaging your other breast, kneading it and brushing his thumb over your nipple every couple of seconds. It felt incredible, and you relished on the feeling until your neediness got the best of you, “James,” you somehow managed to form the words, and grabbed the hand that was still kneading on your breast, pulling it down, to your core “Here, please.”

You saw him pull back to look at you, and he swallowed thickly but nodded, moving to kiss your neck as he traced his fingers over your wet panties “fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered between kisses. You gripped onto his shoulder a little harder, when he pressed his finger onto your folds, you were already pretty sensitive from so much rubbing onto his hard uniform pants that even the slightest touch had you on fire.

After toying with you for a bit, he slid his finger through the hem and pushed your panties to the side, digging his fingers on your folds, while his thumb searched for your clit. He found it in the blink of an eye and you were pretty much bucking your hips against his hand in search of more friction. He let out a breathy laugh “So needy,” he said before setting one of his fingers near your entrance and digging it in.

His finger was long, much longer than yours and it reached places you wouldn’t have dreamed of, he curved it in a particular way and you let out a gasp “Yes! Please, James, do that again,” you said as you panted, he obliged, and had you grinding against his hand again in no time.

“Angel you’re too tight,” he whispered as you leaned in to kiss him again, slowly lowering yourself onto his tight. He went in for another finger as you kissed him and swallowed your whimper. He was already moving his fingers and slowly opening them inside of you, trying to prepare you, in case you wanted to continue because hell knew he did.

He pressed his thumb against your clit again, he could feel you faltering on him, your hip movements becoming sloppier as he continued to rub “Jamie I’m gonna…”

He kissed your neck “Please do.”

You leaned closer to him digging your nails into the muscles of his back as you bit your bottom lip. James separated from your neck for a second to look at you, you looked fucking stunning as you whimpered and whispered his name and a few course words almost incoherently.

“So fucking stunning,” he told you with a smile. It took you a second to come back and be able to pay attention to him, to the way he was looking at you.

You huffed a laugh “Shut up Jamie,” you said with a smile as you shook your head, he still had his fingers inside you, and it looked like he didn’t have the intention to remove them any time soon.

“How are we doing?” he asked.

You frowned, “Why do you– oh.” He flicked his thumb over your clit again, thrusting his fingers in and out in a rather sharp way “James you aren’t thinking of…”

“Of course, I’m thinking of it angel, I need to see that pretty face of pure bliss on you again.”

You almost let him convince you but you shook your head. You didn’t miss the way his smile faltered, you leaned into him, making sure to let your clit rub onto his thumb again as you shifted your weight and your hips “Not until I see yours,” you whispered in his ear, bringing your hand down to the hem of his boxers and digging your hand to grope him.

He groaned at your harsh movement, but his head fell back, an expression rather similar to yours as you dragged your hands through his length.

“Help James,” you said, words cut with sharp breaths from the effort you were making to pull his boxers down. He lifted his hips and helped you do it, all the while you continued pumping him. There was already a bit of white precum coating his tip, even if the boxers had sucked up most of it, you used it to allow your hand to glide easier around him.

“Faster,” he asked, you complied, he was already bucking his hips into your hands, “fuck doll I think I’m going to– “ You instantly stopped moving your hand and his eyes snapped open, looking at you like you had betrayed him. But you didn’t give him an explanation, you used your legs to prop forwards and lined him against your entrance “Wait, doll–“ you lowered yourself onto him, “fuck.”

You gulped, allowing yourself to adjust before giving him a look, he was looking at his cock buried in you attentively, and he swallowed thickly, you didn’t wait too much after that, and started grinding onto him, “Fuck Jamie you fill me up so good,” you whispered, as if he needed any more encouragement. You thought he did since he wasn’t moving, but that wasn’t the reason he wasn’t.

He grabbed onto your hips, and halted your movement “fuck, angel, hold up– I need–“You looked at him worriedly, accidentally bucking your hips again as you tried to search for his eyes, and then you felt it. Wet and sticky, inside you. He’d cum.

He looked at you with the most mortified expression on his face, as if he was sorry “I’m– I’m so sorry I…”

You just laughed, placing your hand on his cheek to prompt him to look at you “Hey, It’s okay my love.”

“But I didn’t… Not even like 30 seconds I–“ James was completely flustered, you weren’t sure you’d ever seen him that flustered before, you pulled him into a kiss.

“I’m taking it as a cumm-pliment,” you told him, he gave you a reproachful look and you gave him a peck on the lips. A small smile wavered its way towards his lips.

“That’s the– what a terrible pun,” he added. You bucked your hips against him again “fuck.”

You raised your eyebrow at him “Keep insulting my puns and I won’t help you with your little issue,” you threatened playfully as you started to buck your hips again, helping him empty himself completely. This time a lot slower, enjoying the way he felt on you, the way he was filling you up, how much easier it was to glide onto him with his warm cum all over you, some of it dripping to the side of your thigh and onto his already, you continued until he patted on your tight.

You nodded and pulled out slowly, setting yourself on his lap still. He still seemed awfully bashful, “Come on Jamie, I really don’t mind it.”

“But it was– our first time and I… ugh” he placed his hands over his face, groaning as he replayed the events in his head.

You bit your tongue not to laugh. At least he wasn’t thinking of the fire anymore. Mission success? You sighed and placed your hands onto his own and pulled them down, tilting your head a little in search for his eyes.

“How about…” you started, it seemed to gather some of his attention, although he was still looking at you with a dissatisfied expression “We go get a bath, and clean up…” you continued, he had finally lifted his head towards yours “we relax together a little,” you added, letting your fingers trace over his muscles, “we clean all the soot of that pretty face of yours,” you added, pinching his cheek which earned you a playful scowl from his part “and then chill for a while, see what happens next,” you finished, making sure your tone, raised eyebrows and half bitten bottom lip was suggestive enough. He looked at you, a diverted smile playing on his lips. “If it makes you feel better, we can pretend the shower was our first time instead,” you added just to spite him.

He huffed, a smile on his face as he placed his hands on your waist and stood up, holding you against him with ease. You squealed and laughed at the sudden action “James!” you reprimanded “We didn’t even take your boots off, you’re gonna fall and drop me in the process,” he looked down and groaned when he realised it was true. Regardless he tried to jump his way before the two of you ended up back on the couch. You were laughing merrily as he huffed.

“Come on hot fireman,” you told him with a smile “Take off those pretty boots of yours…” you smiled as you sneaked out of his grasp “I’ll meet you in the bathroom.”

He pretty much groaned as he saw you leave, staring at your ass as you disappeared through the door.

A/N: this one came out so much sweeter than I expected it to, but I kind of love it. It really captures that James Potter humour, doesn't it? Maraudween and The Five Senses are the anthology series where I explore writing smut, all as a way to hone my skills for the moment I write it in my Wolfstar x Reader series that's currently being posted on a weekly basis. If you have feedback, please leave it in the comments below. I absolutely love reading your comments <3

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dottores · 10 months

Text

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine.

notes: GUYS THIS IS MY FAV CHAPTER IVE WRITTEN SO FAR HDFISHDFSUAFDSDF

THE TIES THAT BIND

It was him. Distantly, his words resounded through your head but no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t understand what he had asked you—his words sounded garbled and clear at the same time, as if he was speaking in an ancient language you couldn’t decipher.

It was him, your soulmate, the man you had been waiting your whole life to finally meet, the man that the gods had tied you with.

The man that ignored you all of these years no matter how hard you tried.

The man that attacked you at the inn.

Any elation you might have felt whittled away the longer you stared at him, anger and anxiety beginning to take hold instead. What had he said? The Second Harbinger? You felt unnerved, you had a feeling that you would somehow run into your soulmate while trying to find the evidence to condemn your stepfather but you had no idea he would be… this.

This is good, the more logical part of you tried to push through the turmoil of emotions you felt, you can use his position, this is your in.

But nothing about you was logical right now—part of you wanted to pull away, part of you wanted to slap him, and part of you wanted to throw yourself in his arms and grant yourself the warmth you’d been denied for so long. The divide in what you wanted to do had you frozen in place, unable to do anything.

Dance with me, he had said—phrased as a question but somehow you knew it wasn’t one.

Thin fingers wrapped around your other arm, Artem forcing your attention back to him, a worried expression directed toward you. “You don’t have to,” he said, and you swore the temperature in the room dropped at his words—maybe it was just a figment of your imagination due to the eerily cold feeling that swept through you, something that was clearly his and not yours, but from the way Artem and his cousins tensed, you thought it might not be.

He was angry, you couldn’t see it on his face—you could barely see his face, his mask hiding it from view, but you could feel it in your gut, an emotion that wasn’t yours pushing to the surface and threatening to break through. But it was more than just anger: if you didn’t know any better, you might’ve thought it was jealousy… a part of you wanted to feed into it to test the theory but you had a distinct feeling that would end with Artem being killed and he had been nothing but kind and helpful to you and you didn’t want to risk him like that.

“It’s okay,” you said tightly, a thin and unkind smile edging at your lips as you pulled your arm from his grasp and let Dottore lead you out to the large, empty floor in the center of the room, all eyes on the two of you.

Your chest constricted as the Doctor pulled you just a bit closer than the acceptable dancing distance as the two of you found a place on the tiled floor—one hand sliding behind you, fingers dipping low to the small of your back, while the fingers of his other hand intertwined with yours, a more intimate version of the palm-to-palm expected in the Snezhnayan Waltz.

You thought you should feel different. You thought that your chest should be light and you thought your heart should be skipping beats, adoring and enthralled, lost in the moment of finally meeting him… but all you could muster was a sense of dread. This man had never cared for you before—not to meet you, not to get to know you, not even to give into your childish desire to play the tugging game with him. In his eyes, you had probably forced his hand by coming here, even if it hadn’t been your intention.

“What game are you playing?” he asked, voice cold and unfriendly, but you were barely paying attention to him now, gaze wandering as other pairs began to make their way to the floor at the sight of you and Dottore, the necessary signal they needed to know it was now acceptable to dance. “Dance with me.”

“I am,” you replied, your surroundings blurring again as you focused back on him. “I’m not playing games.”

You were sure that the smile on his lips would not have met his eyes were they visible. “Yet you are here,” Dottore replied, the ensemble getting louder and the chatter across the floor masking your conversation from unwanted ears. “Somehow managing to track me down so you can force me into acknowledging you.”

You couldn’t bite back the scoff that rose to your chest. “How self important,” you said coolly. “Do you really think I have any interest in meeting you after all the years you spent ignoring me?”

You did, you corrected yourself silently, but he didn’t have to know that. It was humiliating enough to admit to yourself that even after all of the blatant neglect and lack of interest, you still had longed for meeting him, no matter how far down you might’ve pushed that desire.

His lip twitched—the only physical reaction you managed to draw from him thus far but even then, you couldn’t tell if he was irritated or surprised. “Then why are you here?” he asked and for a moment, you regretted your quick tongue. You should have gone along with the lovesick soulmate act so that you would have an excuse as to why you had come to Snezhnaya but you were more focused on your pride than your mission.

Now, you fumbled—a damning mistake—as you said: “None of your business.”

“Ah, but alas it is my business,” Dottore did not fumble like you did, an empty smile painted on his lips as he watched you from beneath the mask. You felt uncomfortable, you didn’t like not being able to see people’s eyes when you spoke to them. “You see, I was sent to figure out why you are here and if your answer is not to my liking, I am meant to… dispose of you. Now, if you would like me to help you, I suggest you answer my question.”

You took in a sharp breath—one that you couldn’t quite hide from him as you realized that you had been wrong. You had hoped that the eyes you had felt on you earlier were just him, that he had been the one to recognize you, but this confirmed that was not the case. The other Harbingers knew who you were and suddenly, the room felt all the more suffocating.

Dottore leaned down, lips brushing your ear and breath warm against your skin. “Don’t you feel their eyes on you?” he murmured. “They’re waiting for my decision, I do implore you to start speaking.”

He leaned back just a bit but now you couldn’t keep your eyes trained on his face, too aware of all of the gazes set on you. You could feel Artem’s eyes heavy on you from the other side of the room, they hadn’t left your body once since Dottore had led you to the dancefloor, following the two of you as you spun across the floor in step with the other partners, but he wasn’t the only one.

Your eyes flickered behind Dottore to where the dark haired girl dressed in white was sitting at the piano, fingers flying across the keys as she played an eerie tune that didn’t quite match the tempo or energy of the Snezhnayan Waltz—the lace over her eyes blocked them from sight but her head was turned in the direction of the two of you. A taller woman with silvery hair leaned on the instrument next to her, blatantly watching the two of you.

There were too many eyes on you—even who you could assume were newly promoted Fatui captains were glancing your way, the other pairs on the dancefloor kept sparing looks in your direction, giving you a wide berth. You thought you were used to the feeling of being watched, after all in Fontaine, you couldn’t even step outside your quarters without the eyes of justice bearing down on you.

Dottore suddenly cleared his throat, forcing your attention back to him. “Is it not common courtesy to give your dancing partner your full attention?” he drawled.

“Clearly you’re undeserving of my attention considering you can’t even hold it,” your tongue lashed before you could think. Instead of regretting your words, you doubled down. “It appears you’re not fond of being ignored, how fascinating.”

How hypocritical, you didn’t have to speak what you meant for him to understand. Dottore let out a huff of amusement but you knew very well that he was not amused if the way his hand tensed on the small of your back had anything to say about it.

“How ungrateful,” Dottore said quietly, the empty smile on his lips not faltering for even a second, “even when I’m going out of my way to try to make sure you stay alive.”

“We both know that you only want me alive for your own sake,” you countered, taking a small leap in speculation. You knew he didn’t care for you but the consequences of losing a soulmate could range from dire to lethal, if you knew anything about him, you knew that was not something he would want to risk.

“Clearly I did not ignore you well enough.”

The smile finally fell—he didn’t like that you could read him the way that you were, although you would argue that you weren’t reading him at all, just placing together the few puzzle pieces he had left for you to complete a small section, the majority of the puzzle was still empty.

“You-” you began, but you were forced to cut yourself off, eyes darting down as you realized that Dottore had purposefully taken a wrong step in the waltz—subtle enough so that others wouldn’t notice his fault, but just enough so that if you took the correct step, you would twist your ankle over his foot.

He’s trying to make a fool out of you, fury flooded you at the realization, shifting your foot just to the right so that you could avoid his. The next step of the dance, a half-spin of a turn, was jerky and sharp because of it, veering off track and into the path of a nearby woman and her partner, who were forced to scramble out of your way or risk drawing the Doctor’s ire.

Dottore’s lip twitched up when he realized that you hadn’t fallen for his trick and the waltz continued smoothly, returning to the graceful spins and turns and steps that the two of you had been dancing in tune with before his attempt at making you humiliate yourself.

“I’ve been patient enough,” he said. “It’s time for you to answer my question.”

Your lip curled in annoyance, searching for an answer to give him before your silence became prolonged and suspicious.

“I’m looking for something,” you said simply. This time, you didn’t have to look down to know he had taken another false step—instead of having to shift at the last second and fall into another jarring turn, you altered the direction of the turn, spinning out just a bit further than was expected of the dance and forcing him to follow.

“For what?” Dottore didn’t give you a second to recuperate or think and you forced yourself not to bite the inside of your cheek, irritated at the game he was playing no matter how much he might deny playing one should you ask. He was forcing you to focus more on the dance with his purposefully wrong steps so you couldn’t concentrate on coming up with coherent lies.

For what? That was the question. What should you tell him? The truth? What would he do with it? Could you trust him? You doubted it, but you could trust in his self-preservation at least—you didn’t think he would do anything to damn you because that would mean damning himself. But would he get in your way? Maybe, if only to see you stumble.

Finally, you spoke, and the words felt weighted on your tongue, mouth dry: “The Fatui killed my father.”

“And you’ve come for evidence. How noble,” Dottore mocked you—if he hated how you could deduce that he didn’t care for your survival beyond for his own sake, you hated even more that he had put together your whole reason for being in Snezhnaya just from the one sentence. “The Hydro Archon is so arrogant that she fails to see foreign threats within her own walls, forcing you to venture into a den of wolves to acquire the proof yourself. What a magnificent god.”

Again, you found sharp words leaving your lips in defense of your nation and Archon: “Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats,” you noted off-handedly at the hypocrisy, dancing around another targeted step and forcing another pair of dancers to dodge the two of you—the Hydro Archon might be blind the Snezhnayan spy that was your stepfather, but at least there wasn’t an entire organization working beneath her nose and in her court.

“What exactly does that mean?” Dottore asked—was that confirmation that the Harbingers were unaware of the masked group that had approached you and the aristocrats? Or was it just Dottore trying to figure out how much you knew? Or maybe it was both.

“Take it as you will,” you answered, eyes narrowing as instead of continuing the dance, he came to a stop in the middle of the floor.

His hand was still pressed to your lower back, holding your body close to his even as you tried to step away. You hated how you had to turn your head up to look at him and you hated the smirk that spread across his face as he looked down at you. Distantly, you noticed that the music had come to an end as the ensemble prepared for another dance.

“You’re not what I expected,” he said after a moment of silence, releasing your hand only to bring his to your face when you looked away. He used two fingers beneath your chin to tilt your head up in his direction, forcing you to look at him. “I’ll find you again.”

A promise or a threat? You couldn’t tell, throat thick and swollen as he stood straight again, stepping away from you and looking behind you. You looked over your shoulder, eyes falling upon Artem as he walked up to the two of you.

“Your second dance?” he asked quietly, holding his hand out toward you. You took the escape gratefully and yet somehow, a part of you felt empty as soon as you stepped away from Dottore, a primal and fundamental part of you knew you were meant to be with him and was unhappy with your decision.

You wondered if he felt it too.

“Are you okay?” Artem questioned as soon as your hand was in his and you stood in position for the next dance—an acceptable distance, unlike how close Dottore had drawn you in.

You glanced back to look at him as you murmured out a ‘yes’ to Artem, but he was already gone.

His hands were tingling.

This wasn't right, he wanted to spit out in protest of the way his body was reacting to you—itching to walk back over and rip you away from the Snezhnayan aristocrat who had the audacity to lay hands on what was his.

His. The word echoed through his head, condemning—he was already beginning thinking like them, like a mortal, an irrational beast that cared for naught but personal pleasure, latching onto someone with the barest interaction. But no matter how much he tried to deny the attachment, his body was betraying him, begging him to turn back for another dance so he could feel your skin against his again.

He thought it might be different, he had abandoned his original body for an artificial one. He thought it could lessen the effects of the bond but he should’ve known better—having an artificial body did not change the fact that his mark had appeared on him, it didn’t change the fact that there was a thread connecting him to you.

He should’ve known this would only make it worse.

Dottore didn’t dare look back, no matter how much his body ached for one last look, he needed to retain some semblance of control over himself and he knew that if he looked back now, he would not like what he saw. His teeth ground together at the thought, scraping against his tongue. He imagined the aristocrat’s hand inching down your back, his fingers intertwined with yours. He imagined your body pressed close to his—a slower song was playing, a more intimate one, one that he should be dancing with you to.

As soon as the final thought crossed his mind, he nearly rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he made his way toward the other Harbingers.

“You looked like you enjoyed yourself,” one said, voice cold and mocking, Dottore’s eyes lifted to Arlecchino.

“Thoroughly,” Dottore replied, dry and sarcastic to mask the fact that yes, he had enjoyed his dance with you.

You were not what he expected. Your tongue was sharp and violent whereas he had thought you to be a docile noble girl, sheltered in the palace of Fontaine City. He could still see that part of you, thinly veiled behind the anger in your eyes; the part of you that longed for the sanctity of the bond between a fated pair, the part of you that still had hope things could work out. He wondered if that was the part of you that you showed to everyone else, the gentleness and the kindness. He thought so, if the way you looked at Artem Melnyk had anything to say about it.

Then, he wondered if your violence was reserved only for him—for some reason, the thought left him pleased, smothering the way the corner of his lips twitched up.

“Well?” Sandrone said sharply, garnering the attention of the Harbingers in the area. To Dottore’s absolute displeasure, he noticed that both the Balladeer and the Friar had come closer to listen in, two wolves drawn in by the scent of blood.

You could keep up with him too, every attempt he had made to make you stumble, you caught and readjusted. He had never met anyone that could keep up with him the way you were able to—most didn’t even dare to try, backing down at the mere sight of him, and those that did tended to not be able to hold their bravado for long—even if it was just boldness because you knew that as your soulmate, it’d be unlikely he would do anything to put you at risk.

“A fawn,” Dottore told her coolly, “just as I said. You wasted my time, and my patience. You can explain to the Jester why I decided to leave the event early.”

Dottore thought you were closer to a wolf pup than a fawn, bearing your teeth against greater predators instead of fleeing because you thought yourself more dangerous than you really were—he wasn’t going to tell them that though.

Sandrone did not look convinced at his words. “Perhaps I should go talk to her,” she said doubtfully.

Unamused, Dottore turned his full attention onto her. “You doubt me?” he asked, an edge to his tone that he dared her to push further. Sandrone looked at him but didn’t respond, he continued: “All she cared for was her first dance with her fiancé being interrupted. Air-headed and dimwitted—whatever you think that girl is, she is not.”

Dottore studied Sandrone from beneath his mask, wondering if she would push even further, but she only shook her head and walked away in the direction of the Captain, clearly unhappy but dropping it, for now at least.

Perhaps the Hydro Archon is not the only god blind to threats, your words ran through his head again as Sandrone pushed past him. What did you mean? It was a dig at the Tsaritsa, that much was certain but what threat was the Fatui missing that was within their own walls? Could it be the aristocrats? If so, you were a fool to think that they weren’t addressing the more hostile families already… but somehow, Dottore knew that you were talking about something else, something far more worrisome.

… and that begged the question of how you even knew of it when they, clearly, did not.

Finally, Dottore’s gaze drew back to the dance floor where you were dancing slowly with the dark-haired aristocrat, arms draped around his shoulders as you swayed to the slow music. You were talking quietly to him, hushed, heads leaned into each other so no one could overhear the two of you. You looked far more at ease with him than you had been with Dottore, your shoulders lax instead of tense, your body loose instead of stiff. That feeling from before—ugly and green—resurfaced.

“Sandrone,” Dottore finally said, stopping the lower-ranked Harbinger in her tracks, “if you’re so suspicious of her, then why don’t we keep her in the palace for a few days under observation? That way, we can figure out whether or not Fontaine is declaring war or not and handle it duly.”

A risk, Dottore noted, they’re going to wonder why he cares so much, but he thought it was a worthy one. He could knock two birds with one stone: separate his soulmate from her apparent fiancé and try to figure out what the cryptic comment meant. He couldn’t help but notice the long look exchanged by Arlecchino and Brighella, as if they knew something that he did not.

Sandrone hesitated, eyes narrowing for a moment before she nodded, “I think that’s a good idea.”

“And who, exactly, is going to care for this girl?” Brighella, voice high and reedy, interjected himself into the conversation. “Heh… if you’d like-”

“I’ll do it,” another voice interrupted as fury knotted Dottore’s insides so intensely that he thought he might lash out at the vulture. Pantalone was the one to step forward, eyes turned upward and a thin smile pulled tight across his lips, “I’d like to pick at her brains for her thoughts on the aristocrats anyway. I’m sure she’ll have some sort of insight.”

Dottore watched Pantalone carefully, trying to figure out what sort of game he was playing. He made sure that she wasn’t killed on the spot before—not that Dottore would have let that happen, but he would’ve been forced to reveal who exactly you were to him and he didn’t want to open up that weakness. He wanted something and from the way his smile fell and his violet eyes went cold, looking at Dottore as the Harbingers began talking amongst each other, he knew it was nothing good.

Irritated, Dottore cast a cold look in your direction—one way or another, he was constantly being backed into a corner because of you. But looking at you was a mistake, evidently, because the annoyance swelled as he watched the aristocrat smile at you as you swooped under his arm in a dramatic spin.

Dottore shook his head as he looked away, rolling his eyes beneath his mask as he stifled the vile emotions rearing their head at the sight. As he turned his attention back to the discussion at hand, listening to them talk about the approaching missions, Dottore wondered if he should try to make his exit now, leave Pantalone to deal with her now that he had kindly offered to—the less interaction with her, the better, he thought, even though his body shrieked in protest—and he wanted to get back to the lab anyway. The Theta segment was down there alone and quite frankly, he didn’t trust him around his stuff.

Alas, he did not get the chance to slip away. As he moved to turn, he noticed that Pantalone was nodding for him to follow.

Dottore bit back a sigh—you, Pantalone, the other Harbingers—this was all going to cut into his research, he had a feeling that he wasn’t going to get anything done for quite a bit.

“What was that all about?” Artem asked you quietly as the music began to pick up again, masking your voices—it was a slower dance, one that was far less demanding than the waltz with the Doctor, who had you struggling to keep up mentally and physically.

You were lucky that Miss Elyna had been so strict with your dancing lessons, not only did she prepare you by teaching you all of the popular dances amongst aristocrats across the seven nations but she also forced you to know how to dance with an incompetent partner so that the you were not made to look like a fool in public.

Dottore was not an incompetent partner by any means, but he surely was a malicious one.

“They’re suspicious of me,” you said softly, watching his expression twist into one that bordered between shocked and horrified, confirming what you already knew—you were not in a good place.

But he didn’t know that you weren’t in the worst place, you couldn’t tell him about your relationship to Dottore. You didn’t know how he would react and you needed him on your side for the duration of this event. You figured that Dottore wouldn’t let them kill you, at least for his own sake, but there were fates worse than death and the thought of that made your skin crawl.

“After this song, we’ll head over to my father, I’ll ask him what to do,” Artem said, nodding to himself. “They can’t do anything, not without risking our support and our support is the only support they have amongst all of the Snezhnayan nobles. So unless they want every single aristocratic family against them…”

Your eyes drew across the room briefly, at the captains and the elite members of the Fatui lingering around the floor and dancing with their partners, at the Harbingers still lurking on the outskirts of the room, some still looking in your direction. There were so many of them and you didn’t have to face them in combat to know that they were all strong, the Harbingers alone reeked of power.

“... if you tell your father, he’ll be upset,” you finally said, voice low—you hadn’t phrased it as a question but you supposed it was one.

“He’ll be livid,” Artem confirmed, jaw tightening. “They… they all think that I’m going to propose to you soon—they were upset that I hadn’t introduced you sooner but they’ve been waiting for me to get married for three years now. If the Fatui try to do something to you…”

Maybe you shouldn’t say anything then, you wanted to say, but the words were stuck in your mouth. The Fatui were strong, you thought again. Artem had claimed that they host these events as a show of power, to force the aristocrats to understand just who they were dealing with, and even from this glimpse you knew that the threat the Fatui posed was beyond anything that the elites of the Fontaine court and the Hydro Archon imagined.

You wondered, then, why did they not take control of Snezhnaya through sheer force alone? They could do it, surely, the Harbingers themselves could probably handle it on their own. You figured that the aristocrats held a lot of sway amongst the common people—if it was anything like the structure of the Fontaine countryside where each town was centered around one of the aristocrats' estates—and from there, you could assume that the Fatui did not want to rule their own people through fear.

But you feared that if push came to shove, the Fatui would have no issue slamming their iron fist down upon the people of Snezhnaya and if that was the case, you didn’t want that blood on your hands because Artem had rushed to the defense of a girl he barely knows… especially because you thought if he knew who exactly your soulmate was, he wouldn’t be so quick to help you.

“Don’t tell them,” you finally said, mouth dry, glancing away as you continued, “whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. Don’t risk pissing the Fatui off even more.”

Artem’s brows knit together. “What?” he asked, voice hushed. “You have no idea what they’re capable of, what they’ll do to you and if the Doctor of all Harbingers is interested in you then-”

“I’m not a helpless girl, Artem,” you said sharply, careful to keep your voice low. “I will do what I must to survive, you need to focus on…”

Your family, the other nobles, this organization that’s pulling all of the strings. Let me deal with this, it’s my mission.

Artem didn’t look happy, shaking his head again. “I didn’t say you were helpless,” he said, lowering his voice even more as he leaned his head down to you. To all others, you thought it probably looked romantic, but you could feel his arms tense around you, “but you can’t do this alone. They’ll find you out and-and you don’t want to know what they’ll do when they do.”

There was a haunted expression on his face, as if he had personal experience with the Fatui and what they would do to the people that actively worked against them. There was a pit in your stomach as you looked away—guilt, anxiety, maybe something else or a combination of both, knowing who your soulmate was and how even though Artem was terrified of him, he still was trying to defend you against him.

“I need to use the restroom to freshen up,” you said, changing the subject abruptly—you didn’t want to talk about this anymore, if the Fatui were already onto you, you were running out of time to do what you needed to do.

You didn’t want to rely on Dottore, not if you didn’t have to.

Artem stared at you for a long moment before sighing, arm slipping around your waist as he guided you back to the front of the room toward the wide double doors that led to the entrance hall, “There’s only two ways in and out of here, the only other way…”

You glanced backward to another door on the opposite side of the room—the only way to get to it would be to walk past several Harbingers and that was simply not going to happen, not when a few of them were clearly suspicious of you already. You could only hope that they missed you slipping out of the hall but somehow, you doubted they would.

Reaching the doors, you raised your eyebrows when neither of the Fatui subordinates moved out of your way. Artem stepped forward, slightly in front of you.

“Is there an issue?” Artem asked coldly, motioning to the door. “Are the hinges not working properly? They seemed just fine before. My lady needs to freshen up.”

The two men exchanged a long look with one another before shifting out of the way, albeit a bit reluctantly. You looked back at Artem, squeezing his arm, “I’ll be right back.”

And if I’m not, don’t come looking.

“They’re a lovely couple, hm?” Pantalone smiled as the two of them walked the length of the ballroom. Dottore’s jaw clenched, irritation skyrocketing when he continued, “They look very happy together, don’t they?”

“Very,” Dottore agreed dryly, not letting the man get a rise out of him like he wanted, but unlike Pantalone, he did not look in your direction.

Instead, he kept his gaze trained forward, mind-racing as he tried to figure out what Pantalone might want from him. If he had to guess, it was going to be something with the residue research and creating a stronger delusion for him but the man was as unpredictable as the wind—there was no telling what demands would spew from his mouth.

“Do you think that’s why she was ignoring you?” Pantalone asked, trying to gossip like a pair of old wives as if they weren’t talking about his soulmate. “She finally found someone better and doesn’t want anything to do with you?”

Dottore didn’t think that was the case. He finally looked back over to where you were dancing with the aristocrat. You looked comfortable with him, but not happy, and you looked safe with him, but not hopeful—not the way you had been with him, at least. You had been tense and stressed but there was no denying that lingering hope that swam behind your eyes, as much as you tried to hide it with your sharp tongue and harsh jabs.

Dottore had never been able to read people well—he compensated with intimidation—but it came naturally when looking at you, probably because of the bond. He didn’t know whether or not to be appreciative of it or to resent it because you could clearly read him as well as he could read you and the thought of that left him uncomfortable.

“No,” Dottore finally said after a few moments of silence. “I think she was ignoring me to be petty.”

It appears you’re not fond of being ignored. How fascinating.

He had recognized the underlying message, calling him a hypocrite—he wouldn’t put it past you to have spent the past two weeks ignoring him after he finally reached out to you just to be spiteful.

“Not quite the air-headed and dimwitted fawn you described to the others then,” Pantalone drawled, smile widening as he finally looked at Dottore. “Oh, don’t worry. I won’t say anything… but there’s no way the others will fall for the facade once they realize who she is to you. Anyone fated to you is bound to be closer to monster than man.”

That was unacceptable. His chest tightened at his words, a foul feeling swirling his insides. It was not about the implied insult to him, nor was it about the subtle threat of the other Harbingers finding out who you were to him—it was the insult to you, the mocking comment Pantalone made calling you closer to monster than man. That was not acceptable.

And then he realized what he was doing, getting defensive over you for no reason at all. Careful, he told himself, this was what he hadn’t wanted.

He pushed it away, again, focusing on the issue at hand.

“Was she everything you hoped?” Pantalone pressed, a sardonic smile twisting his lips as he watched you.

More, Dottore answered silently. You were beyond anything he had imagined, but he kept his answer to himself, “What do you want, Regrator?”

“Fair exchange,” Pantalone spoke of the policy he had lived by since the day Dottore met him and Dottore knew that he wasn’t going to like this. Pantalone’s eyes gleamed at the prospect of it, that thin thread of control waning as it always did when he got the upperhand on someone. “I am owed. Our previous exchange has been fulfilled—you brought me into the Fatui and helped me obtain my position, I gave you better funding and support in meetings. This is the start of a new exchange. Twice now, I’ve protected her and now, I’ve brought her in so that you weren’t exposed. I am owed.”

“What do you want?” Dottore repeated again, unperturbed by Pantalone’s demeanor, wanting to get this conversation over with. “The residue research? One of my segments to help with your missions?”

“The prototype for the new delusion,” Pantalone said. Dottore raised his eyebrows—it’s a prototype for a reason, on his lips but he decided against it. If the Regrator wanted to use the prototype, all the better for Dottore: he would be able to study how he reacts to it, and how it reacts to him. “And a branch of the Northland Bank in Fontaine City.”

Dottore tilted his head, “How exactly do you expect me to help with that? Just take one of the segments and tell them what to do.”

Pantalone smiled again but this time, it was colder—the same smile he directed at the other Harbingers when they pissed him off. His head turned in the direction of where you were dancing with the aristocrat and then he asked, voice amused: “You didn’t think I was helping her for your sake, did you?”

There it is.

Dottore stared at Pantalone emptily from beneath his mask. He had expected this from the moment he had initially offered his help in finding you, he knew there would be a catch but he did not think it would have to do with you.

A branch of the Northland Bank set up in Fontaine City. What would that entail from you? Information on the court that only the upper echelon of aristocrats would know? Weaknesses and holes in their defenses? Either way, it would entail betraying your nation and he had a feeling you wouldn’t do that… which meant he would somehow have to get the information from you to pass it on to Pantalone, which meant he would have to betray you. For some reason, the thought left him feeling uneasy.

“Very well,” he agreed. “Consider it done.”

Pleased, Pantalone looked back out to the ballroom floor.

“Oh?” he noted. “She’s on the move.”

Dottore’s head snapped to the side, eyes searching the floor until they landed on where the aristocrat was leading you through the hall and to the entrance of the room.

What were you doing? He had a bad feeling, exhaling as he waited. Were you really going to go out and try to find the evidence you wanted now? Right after he had told you that the Harbingers have their eye on you? You couldn’t be that stupid… unless you were trying to rush to do it before he could get involved but that would be ridiculous.

Dottore’s eyes followed you until the doors of the ballroom shut behind you and you were gone from sight. He didn’t bother explaining to Pantalone where he was going, turning on his heel and made his way to the door on the opposite side of the room, closer to where he and Pantalone were standing.

The Fatui subordinates scattered at his approach, allowing an easy exit for him. Pantalone followed, much to his distaste, but he supposed this way it didn’t look as suspicious. As soon as he pushed the door open, a rush of cold air met him—a welcome escape from the stuffiness of the ballroom and the endless chatter of the aristocrats and the music and all of the overwhelming noise.

The hall was dimly lit by candles mounted on the walls, there was no one in the hall besides them—Dottore assumed that you had turned down the hall on the right instead, heading to the washroom.

Was that what you were doing? Faking going to the washroom so you could slip away and search? Why weren’t their subordinates lining the halls to make sure people couldn’t do that?

“Are you going after her?” Pantalone asked, amused, slinking up beside him. Dottore gave him a cold look from the corner of his eye. “Relax, I won’t interfere.”

Dottore wasn’t sure how much he believed that but he didn’t have time to call him out for it. He wanted to get to you before you did something stupid. He gave Pantalone one last look before making his way down the hall in the direction of the washroom, turning left down two different halls until he was on the opposite side of the ballroom—just as he came to a stop outside of the door, it opened.

“There you are.”

REBLOGS APPRECIATED

#dottore x reader #dottore x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #dottore smut #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x you

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ginnsbaker · 8 months

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Bulletproof (5/?)

Part Summary: Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game... The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you.

Chapter word count: 3.2k+ | Tags: Light Angst, Still Unresolved Sexual Tension, Still Gay Disasters, Wanda is in denial, So are you

Ship: Wanda Maximoff x Gender Neutral Reader

Next Part | Series Masterlist

Daisy's fingers intertwined with yours isn't a sign of a budding romance, but rather the result of a game.

On the flight back to the compound, you, Daisy, Vision, and Natasha, played a card game to kill time. You and Daisy, unfortunately, were on the losing side. Natasha, with her ever-sly grin and penchant for mischief, came up with a penalty—whichever team lost had to hold hands for the rest of the day.

The explanation has been long overdue, but in the days since your return, Wanda has made it abundantly clear that she wants nothing to do with you. Initially, you thought getting out of her way would give her the space she needs after you revealed to her that you willingly participated in her sex dream—something you still constantly beat yourself up over.

But it has become evident that she requires more than just physical distance; she wants you completely out of her life.

On top of this, despite Daisy having moved out to her own room a week after she put in the requisition, your sleep hasn't improved much. Every time you close your eyes, memories flood in: Wanda's voice, her warmth, even her distinct scent, all haunting your dreams just as vividly as they do during your waking hours.

The lack of sleep begins to take its toll, especially during training sessions. You're off your game, your reactions slowed, and your focus wavering. It's hard to stay sharp when your brain feels like it's swimming in a haze.

Natasha, always direct, just told you straight up that you look like hell and that you should get more sleep.

Easier said than done.

One evening, after another training mishap, you finally decide it's time to face the root of your sleeplessness. Clearing matters with Wanda isn't just for your peace of mind now; it's essential for the team's safety.

Taking a deep breath and gathering your thoughts, you make your way to Wanda's quarters. In your hand, a small olive branch: her favorite snacks, hoping it might soften the forthcoming confrontation. As you near her door, the muffled sound of laughter stops you. It's her voice, paired with another's—a voice you don't recognize.

As you inch closer, discreetly peeking into the slightly ajar door, the scene before you sharpens. The unfamiliar man stands closer to Wanda than anyone has in recent memory. Their laughter, her bright eyes, the casual touch of her hand on his arm—it's evident she's enjoying his company.

But it's not just any company, it looks like a date. And to make matters more intimate (and worse), they're headed into her quarters. The man holds a bottle of wine in one hand, suggesting a night in, and she's leading him, her fingers lightly grazing his as they move.

The snacks in your hand suddenly feel out of place, almost childish in the face of the mature, romantic scene unfolding before you. You spin on your heel, a new mission in mind, and beeline straight for Steve's office. Pushing through the door without knocking, you find him hunched over some paperwork.

“Steve,” you start, your voice edged with urgency. “What's the protocol for late-night visitors?”

He looks up, surprised by the sudden interruption, and takes a moment to process your question. “Well,” he begins, scratching his head, “As long as they're not on any criminal or watch lists, they're allowed in the compound.”

“Even this late?”

Steve's eyes dart away from yours for a moment, his cheeks tinting a soft pink. “We're all adults here,” he mumbles, the tips of his ears turning red. “As long as they're... respectful and discreet.”

Feeling the sting of frustration boiling over, you grit your teeth, barely getting out a terse “Fine,” before making your way out of his office.

On the way out, your gaze lands on a bottle of wine perched on a shelf, an apparent relic from a past era given the thick dust on its label. Without a second thought, you snatch it up.

“Hey!” Steve calls out, rising abruptly from his chair. “That's been aging for decades!”

But you're already gone, the echo of your footsteps a testament to your swift departure. Steve stands still for a moment, listening to the diminishing sound. Shaking his head, he mutters an exasperated, “Kids these days,” before turning back to his desk with a sigh.

–

Draining the entire bottle solo does little to coax sleep. Your healing powers, frustratingly, tend to neutralize the effects of intoxication almost immediately.

Still, you appreciate the brief, fleeting buzz. Lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, the shadows morph and play tricks on your eyes. You consider maybe you should've joined Sam on his night flight practices. At least then you'd be physically tired enough to drown out the noise in your head.

Shifting in your bed with a sigh, your thoughts drift to the first time you saw Wanda Maximoff.

Rogers had you cornered, your back on the cold ground, his knee pressing firmly into your chest. The skirmish had been intense, your side versus theirs, and one by one, your allies had been captured or incapacitated. You were the last holdout, defiant to the end.

With Rogers' weight pinning you down, and your arms restrained, you could only tilt your head to the side, ears picking up the sharp, rhythmic clicks of boots against concrete.

Wanda Maximoff made her entrance, and even in your vulnerable position, her presence commanded attention. Those signature boots, the flow of her skirt, the cascade of mahogany hair—all of it painted a picture of power and poise. But it was her eyes that held you—a deep, entrancing gaze that seemed to see right through you.

And now it’s those same eyes that keep you up at night. The same ones that used to lazily open each morning, taking a moment to adjust before locking onto yours, almost lighting up when they did.

And fuck it—you really want to see those eyes right now.

With a sudden surge of boldness, you spring from the bed, with every intention to barge into Wanda’s room and throw out the man from earlier.

But as you violently yank the door open, you're met with the most unexpected sight: Wanda.

She's standing there, fist raised, poised to knock. The proximity is startling. You can sense the faintest heat coming from her, so intimate it's almost intrusive. Her eyes widen in surprise, but you're too entranced to even process it. Your breath hitches, time seems to slow, and a million thoughts race through your mind.

Before any words can leave your lips, she closes the distance, her hands finding your face as she pulls you into a searing kiss.

Thrown off by the intensity of her kiss, you stagger back a few steps. On instinct, your hands slide down to the back of her thighs, lifting her with ease. She responds instantly, her legs wrapping around your waist, her grip on you tightening. The world blurs for a moment as your focus narrows down to the sensation of her against you.

With a swift kick, the door to your room slams shut, and you quickly reach behind to lock it. Your steps falter when the back of your knees hit the bed, causing both of you to tumble onto the soft mattress. The sudden change in elevation doesn't deter Wanda; she swiftly positions herself, straddling your hips, her hands exploring the contours of your face and neck.

Drawn to the warmth of her skin, your lips meander down her throat, eliciting soft sounds with every touch. The moment you nip at her pulse point, a deep moan escapes her, its vibrations going straight to your own core.

The sound causes you to pull back slightly. “Wait, Wanda–”

Wanda's brow furrows in annoyance, her crimson lips parting in a soft pout. “Why are you stopping?” she huffs, her tone sultry but also slightly slurred.

That's when you realize it—the faint but unmistakable scent of alcohol on her breath, the slight glossiness of her eyes, and the way her movements, while passionate, are also a tad uncoordinated.

“Wanda, have you been drinking?”

Her head tilts slightly, as if trying to understand the question, her lips parting in a lopsided smile. “Just a little,” she admits, her fingers playing with the collar of your shirt.

You gently cup her face, thumbing away a stray strand of hair. “We shouldn't do this if you're not sober, Wanda.”

“Me being unconscious didn't stop you before,” she hisses, a dark undertone to her voice. The air in the room suddenly grows thick and heavy. Wanda's words, stinging like a slap.

Your stomach drops, guilt and regret flooding through you. Carefully, you slip from Wanda's hold, swinging your legs off the bed to sit with your back turned to her. That night was something you'd replayed in your mind over and over again, beating yourself up for crossing a line you never should have. The hurt in Wanda's voice only exacerbates the pain.

“Wanda, I—” you start, risking a glance over your shoulder.

“I shouldn't have said that,” Wanda whispers, looking as if she's on the verge of tears. “I'm sorry.”

“No,” you quickly counter, a lump forming in your throat, “You meant that. And you have every right to. It's something we should've confronted a long time ago. Whatever happens next, I'll accept any consequences for my actions.”

Wanda reaches out to place a hand on your shoulder, her voice shaky, “If you're ready, then I'm ready too. I'm not innocent in all of this. I took advantage of the situation as well.”

You shake your head firmly, turning to face her and then grabbing her chin gently, making her eyes meet yours, “No, Wanda. You weren't aware. I was. I knew better. That's on me, not you.”

In response, Wanda dithers, then gently kisses the fingers you have placed under her chin. But she doesn’t stop there. A fire still kindling in her veins, she surges forward to claim your lips once again.

You kiss her back for a fleeting second, getting lost in the softness of her lips. But then you pull back, placing a palm against her chest. “Wanda, you need to sleep. You’re not…We'll talk. I promise, in the morning.”

She sighs, her fight melting away as the weight of the alcohol and exhaustion take over. Relenting, she nods, and you help her get situated under the covers.

You start to arrange some pillows on the floor, intending to make a bed for yourself. But as you're about to lie down, Wanda's sleepy voice stops you.

“Stay with me,” she mumbles. “I've been having trouble sleeping without you. I just... I want you near.”

Drunk Wanda feels like a whole other person, wearing her heart on her sleeve in a way that just makes you want to wrap her up and protect her.

After all that's transpired tonight, you're wary. But seeing her there, curled up and looking so small in that big bed, it's hard to resist. You exhale, "Just for tonight," you murmur, more to yourself than to her.

Climbing into the bed, you maintain a respectful distance at first. But, as minutes tick by, you find Wanda inching closer, until her head is nestled into the crook of your neck. Her warm breath tickles your skin, and you can't help but wrap an arm around her, pulling her close.

With everything that went down tonight, you'd think sleep would be impossible. But with the bed being so comfy and Wanda so close, you feel your eyelids getting heavy. It’s strange how having someone next to you can make things feel a bit better. Even with all that’s happened between you two, Wanda’s still your calm in the storm.

And you hope, deep down, you're that for her too.

The next morning dawns, and you find the space beside you empty.

It's not entirely unexpected.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you notice the other side of the bed is empty. It’s quiet, and the room feels a bit colder than before. Splashing cold water on your face helps you wake up a bit more, but it also makes everything from last night crash back into your mind.

Alright, deep breath. You've got this.

For now, giving Wanda her space feels like the right move. You can't even begin to imagine what's going on in her head. But you–

You've got a pretty clear picture of what you want, and if that means waiting a bit longer for her to figure things out, so be it.

Pulling on some clothes, you decide to bury yourself in work and maybe hit the gym later. A distraction is just what you need right now. But as you leave the room, you can't help but hope that once everything cools down, you and Wanda can finally sort things out.

Whatever that might look like.

The timing couldn't have been worse. Of all the moments for disaster to strike.

The piercing shriek of alarms tears through the compound right before dinner.

It is quickly followed by an earth-shaking rumble.

The compound is under siege, and this isn't a regular assault. It's planned, strategic, and designed for maximum devastation. The ground quivers beneath you as you scramble to your feet.

Missiles rain down from all directions, their impacts causing blinding explosions and sending shockwaves that rattle the building's foundation. Dust and debris cloud the air, limiting visibility. The familiar hum of the building's defenses rises, but it's evident they're struggling against the barrage.

Steve's voice, steady yet urgent, sounds over the intercom. “All hands on deck! Secure the compound. Natasha, Clint, get the personnel out now.”

You grab your gear and rush out, adrenaline surging. The corridors are chaos—agents, staff, and superheroes all trying to restore order while dodging blasts and the intruders now inside.

You take a sharp turn, making a beeline for Wanda's quarters. As you approach, your heart sinks. The area is a mess of crumbled concrete, twisted metal, and shattered ceilings. The sight is gut-wrenching, and a cold dread fills your chest.

“Wanda!” you shout, your voice raw with fear. Debris crunches under your boots as you race towards the wreckage of her room, trying to find any sign of her.

Distant explosions and shouts echo down the corridor, but they're just background noise to the panic tightening in your chest. You start to dig through the rubble, tossing aside chunks of wall and broken furniture.

“Wanda!” you yell again.

Suddenly, a muffled groan reaches your ears, and you zero in on its source. Frantically clearing away the debris, your hands finally find the familiar fabric of her jacket. Pulling with all your might, you manage to free her from the wreckage.

Her face is smudged with dust, a small cut bleeding on her forehead, but her eyes—those eyes you had lost sleep over—flutter open, meeting yours with a mixture of relief and pain.

“Hey,” she coughs weakly, a small smile forming on her lips despite the situation.

As you reach to help her up, she lets out a sharp, agonized scream that stops you dead in your tracks. Your gaze shifts down, and horror sets in as you spot a length of steel rebar protruding from her side, clearly having pierced through her abdomen. Blood seeps around the intrusion, staining her clothes a dark, foreboding shade of crimson.

“Wanda!” The name escapes your lips in a choked whisper, panic overtaking your every thought. Dropping to your knees beside her, your hands hover above the injury, unsure of what to do. Removing the rebar might cause more damage, but leaving it could be just as lethal.

The anguish in Wanda's eyes is almost too much to bear, tears spilling down her face as she clutches weakly at the protruding metal. “I–It hurts,” she manages to gasp out, her voice trembling.

Distant footsteps grow louder, echoing through the shattered hallways. The approach is too rapid, too relentless. Friend or foe, you can't determine. You don’t have the luxury of time to find out.

With urgency mounting, your eyes, stinging with tears of your own, dart around the destroyed corridor, searching for an exit, a hiding spot, any kind of advantage. But every moment counts. “Hold on, Wanda,” you whisper, your voice thick with desperation. “Just hold on.”

But she's weakening fast. You know you need to act, and quickly. Taking a deep, steadying breath, you place one hand above the wound and the other below. “I'm going to pull it out, okay? I need you to stay with me.”

With a nod from Wanda, albeit a weak one, you summon all your strength, both physical and emotional, and in one swift motion, you remove the metal. Blood flows more freely now, and Wanda's scream fills the corridor, echoing off the walls.

Using your powers, you immediately start to heal the wound, the warm glow surrounding your hands as they work their magic on her injured torso. Wanda's once steady heartbeat is now all over the place under your touch.

The process is agonizingly slow, and every second feels like an eternity. You literally feel your powers leaving your body, as you concentrate on focusing all your energy on the gaping hole on Wanda’s stomach. You dig deep, pulling out energy you didn't even know you had. It's like trying to stay afloat when every wave tries to drag you under. But bit by bit, you watch the wound start to close, the bleeding halting, and the raw edges of her skin fusing back together.

Wanda's shaky breaths slowly stabilize, but her complexion remains worryingly pale. By the time you've healed the wound to just a scar, you're on the brink of passing out, every bit of energy sapped from you.

“Y/N…” Wanda weakly squeezes your hand. “You... you saved me again,” she says, her voice a raspy whisper.

Your head leans into hers, and you muster a faint smile. “Always for you,” you whisper back.

You both start leaning in, faces just a few inches away, when–

When suddenly, a sharp pain lances through your chest, quickly followed by another agonizing jolt in your stomach. Not so long ago, you shrugged off a sniper's bullet like it was nothing. But now, these bullets burn, and the shock of not being invincible all the time hits you harder than the actual shots.

Wanda's eyes, previously filled with gratitude, are now wide with horror. The transition from relief to shock to rising fury is evident. Her eyes blaze a menacing shade of red, her powers swelling with her emotions.

“You... you were bulletproof,” she stammers, a trembling hand reaching out to you.

“I thought I was,” you choke out, blood pooling in your mouth and trickling down the side of your lips.

Your strength is fading fast, and everything's starting to go fuzzy. All around, the place is falling apart, but there's this sudden burst of red energy.

Wanda.

She's letting it all out, and the power's intense.

The last thing you hear, right before everything goes black, is Wanda's voice, raw and choked with emotion, screaming your name. “Y/N!”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff x you #wanda x you #wanda maximoff #unbetad #my writing #my fic #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff #captain america civil war #the avengers #oneshots #steve rogers #daisy johnson

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dud5tiny · 5 months

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Intertwined Fates | K. Akabane

✶Pairing: Karma Akabane X reader

✶Summary: Where you find yourself in a complicated situation, and the redhead comes to your aid, or where Karma cares more about you than he lets on.

✶Contains: Physical violence and bullying, Emotionally intense content, Scenes of confrontation and aggression, Karma being Karma.

A/n: English isn't my first language, so forgive any mistakes. My account is new, so I'm still tweaking it to my liking, but I'm accepting requests！

You and Karma always got along well, which is peculiar given his arrogant and proud personality.

You met before he joined class 3-E. Your personalities were distinct, with you being reserved and having few friends, while Karma was, well, Karma, with his teasing and sometimes tasteless jokes. To be honest, he didn't even notice you at first, as your reserved nature didn't make you stand out among the students.

Until one day, Karma overheard you arguing with a student from your class. From the context, this student was humiliating a 3-E student, and without hesitation, you defended them. Since that day, Karma started paying more attention to you.

He was somewhat pleased that you seemed to disdain the educational system as much as he did. He kept an eye on you during class, discreetly. You never exchanged words until the teacher assigned pair work.

Actually, the teacher allowed students to choose their partners. As you didn't talk to anyone and Karma had a reputation for violence (and honestly, students were afraid to team up with him), you didn't have much choice but to work together.

Initially, you felt uncomfortable, maybe unsure how to start a conversation or simply because his presence seemed intimidating. Karma understood he had to take the first step, initiating a discussion about the assignment and how you'd tackle the problem given by the teacher.

The project went well, with Karma doing most of the work, and you providing comments and help whenever you could. You didn't want to be dead weight and let Karma take all the credit. By the end of the class, the work was finished, and you felt more at ease around Karma, engaging in conversation about books and shared interests.

You genuinely thought you'd never interact with the redhead again. Before, you hadn't spoken, so why would it be different now? It was a surprise when, the next day, he sat near your place, which was previously unoccupied.

After that, you became friends, of sorts. No one in the class seemed interested enough to pursue friendship with you, and Karma scared off other students, preventing them from getting close due to his mischievous temperament. The outcast students got along.

Karma noticed that, behind your reserved nature, you talked quite a bit, especially when discussing things you enjoyed, like books or movies. You had to admit (to yourself, because honestly, this guy's ego is already too big), your mornings became more enjoyable because of the interaction with him.

So, it was a huge surprise when you received the terrible news that Karma Akabane would finally be transferred to 3-E for beating up a high-ranking student. You were aware of his violent reputation, and you had seen him in fights before, but the principal had never made a big deal about it until now.

You hadn't had any contact with him since then, and your days returned to being as monotonous as before, which didn't go unnoticed by a group of students who, for fun, decided to pick on you.

You had never been bullied, and initially, you defended yourself against the boys' insults by simply ignoring them. This continued until things escalated; insults worsened, and the turning point was when one of them pushed you during PE, claiming it was an accident.

You returned home with a bleeding knee that day, with a strong desire to punch all of them in the face. But honestly, you were outnumbered, and you didn't want to risk being transferred to 3-E, so you did nothing.

Until one day, things changed. Today was a student assembly, where everyone gathered in the main hall to hear announcements from teachers and sometimes the principal. Students lined up according to their classes; you were in 3-C.

Mockery against 3-E started early, and you decided to ignore it and not join the malicious gossip about them. During the assembly, you occasionally looked towards the 3-E line, searching for a red-haired head among the students, but he wasn't there.

Knowing him, he must be somewhere far away from here, which left you feeling somewhat sad because these days you felt lonelier than usual. Despite enjoying his company, with the constant teasing from the boys, your days were terrible.

After what felt like endless minutes, the assembly ended, and students began heading to their respective classes. You looked around, determined to go buy something to drink from the standard vending machines scattered around the school. You walked to a machine near the court and pressed the button for your favorite juice. It took a while to drop, and you were so focused on your thoughts that you didn't notice a group of boys approaching until one of them quickly grabbed your juice.

You looked startled by the sudden action, but soon anger started to replace the surprise.

"Funny," you said in an ironic tone. "Now give me the juice."

I'm not in the mood," replied the blond, who seemed to be the leader of the group. He opened the juice and drank it. "Horrible, how can you drink such disgusting stuff?"

The boys behind him laughed, and you tried to find humor in the whole situation. The blond made a face at your lack of reaction and poured the juice on the ground.

"You know, I really hoped you'd defend yourself, scream, or even resort to aggression, but you do nothing. Playing with you is not as fun anymore."

"Great, how about leaving me alone?" The blond finished pouring the juice on the ground before crushing the can.

"No, I think it's time to step up the game."

You didn't understand his words at first until the can was thrown forcefully at your head, making you take a few steps back from the impact. Laughter increased when the blond grabbed your wrist and pushed you with all his force into the juice puddle.

You felt your knees scraping on the ground, and you were sure they would be bleeding again. You tried to stand up, but the blond pushed you even more, making you fall completely face-first on the ground.

You tried with all your might to get up, but the boy's strength was superior to yours. You had never felt so weak and humiliated before. You hated crying, especially in front of others, but in this situation, you couldn't prevent tears from forming.

You suppressed them; you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of crying in front of them.

"Going to cry?" The blond laughed, pushing his weight even more on you. "Hey, Yaru, take a picture for me."

"Ah, man, I left my phone in my bag, hold on, I'll be right back."

You watched Yaru go towards the corridors. This blond had to be a complete sadist to act so maliciously. You had never harmed anyone, always keeping to yourself, just existing. You wondered if this was some kind of punishment for something you did in the past.

You didn't believe much in karma, but you started to doubt it now.

"Yaru is taking too long, don't tell me he chickened out and ran away?" One of the boys laughed.

"Hope not, the bitch here isn't a very comfortable pillow."

The boys laughed again, and you just wished all of it would end. Maybe if you were stronger and smarter, you could have asked for help and avoided these incidents, but nothing could be done now.

Soon, footsteps could be heard, and you just wished this Yaru guy hadn't found his phone. The boys were distracted, so it was a surprise when Yaru fellto the ground, injured and bruised. Suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tense air.

"What the hell is going on here?"

You felt relieved recognizing that voice, one that belonged to someone more imposing than all those boys. Honestly, anyone could see the relief on your face for seeing the redhead there.

The sudden presence of Karma made the laughter cease instantly. The boys stepped back, and you looked at the redhead, who stood before them with a furious expression.

"Oh, look who showed up," the blond said, trying to act nonchalant, but his eyes showed nervousness.

Karma advanced towards them with surprising speed, grabbing the blond by his shirt collar and pulling him off you.

"You filthy pigs don't even pick targets that can defend themselves. How pathetic can you get?" Karma's voice was low and threatening.

The other boys began to retreat, realizing that the situation had drastically changed. Karma's sharp gaze passed through each of them before returning to the group's leader.

"Come on, pour juice on my head now," Karma challenged, with a sarcastic smile.

The blond stuttered, unsure how to react. At that moment, Karma let him go, but not before giving him a shove that made him fall on his butt. Karma crouched down, eye level with the blond, and held his chin firmly, forcing him to stare into his golden eyes.

"I could kill you right now, you know, but I don't want to do it in front of my friend," his grip tightened, "This is my first and only warning. If I find out that you and your shitty gang laid a finger on her again, know that a punch from me will be a caress compared to the beating I'll give."

Karma finally let go of the blond, who looked at him in fear. He stood up and stared menacingly at all of them.

"Get out of here before I change my mind."

The boys needed no further encouragement. Hurriedly, they distanced themselves, leaving you and Karma in the tense silence of the corridor.

Karma approached you, observing the contained tears on your face. His severe expression turned into genuine concern.

"Are you okay?" he asked, gently touching your shoulder.

You nodded, unable to contain the gratitude in your eyes. He smiled sideways, as if the situation wasn't a big deal.

"By the way, if you ever need help dealing with those idiots again, I'm here," he reassured with a comforting smile, "Have they been bothering you for a while?"

He sat on the ground, not caring whether it was dirty or not. You felt like you couldn't form any words without letting the tears roll, so you just nodded.

"You should have talked to me as soon as the teasing started. We may not be in the same class anymore, but I'm still your friend."

Karma looked at you, and he couldn't help feeling a bit guilty for distancing himself. He liked 3-E; the people were much friendlier, and he even made one or two friends. But he missed the long conversations with you, and how the chat never seemed to end when it was just the two of you.

When the assembly was over, he was looking for you because he wanted to invite you out, watch a movie, go to a café, anything. He just wanted to spend quality time with you.

You'll never know how much self-control he had to not beat those boys to a pulp and send them all to the hospital because he didn't want your perception of him to change. And despite his reputation following him, you didn't seem to mind.

Karma snapped out of his thoughts when he realized his uniform was wet. He took off his blazer and put it over your shoulders.

You thanked him as he extended his hand.

"Let's go," He said, taking his hand and pulling him up.

"Where are we going?" Your voice was still a bit shaky, but your desire to cry was fading. The presence of the redhead was reassuring to you.

"Anywhere. Let me kidnap you from this terrible school for a morning," he said with his typical mischievous smile, and you chuckled, looking towards the school gates.

Unnoticed by you, if you had paid attention to the redhead, you would have noticed how much his smile widened just by making you laugh.

Maybe everything would be okay as long as you were with him.

A/n: Aaaa just Karma Akabane, hope I managed to capture the essence of our mischievous redhead. Don't forget to like because it helps a lot with engagement. Thanks for reading!

#karma akabane x reader #karma akabane #karma #karma's a bitch #karma x reader #akabane karma #assassination classroom #karma assassination classroom #Karma Akabane x you

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ackermanbloodline · 9 months

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Paperwork (Part II) - Levi Ackerman x Female Reader

Word Count: 5.3k

Warning: Sexual content ahead. 18+, MDNI.

Read Part I

* * *

"What are you doing?"

“Something I’ve always wanted to do.”

With that, his fingers tighten their grip on your waist and pull up, now hips to hips. Something distinct brushes up against your inner thigh. Another blow to your lungs. Holy fuck. Your breathing speeds up, trying to find the ability to speak.

“Tell me you want this.”

The breath is knocked out of you as he looks at you with such determination and interest. His steel gaze penetrates yours. If looks could kill, you would be long fucking dead.

This is so wrong! a voice screams at the back of your mind. We are both captains. We have attended war meetings together. Why are we allowing lust to mix with the important work we do? If Commander Erwin finds out about this, who knows what will happen. One of us needs to stop this before it’s too late. Now!

“Words. Use them.”

You close your eyes for a moment and remember the buzzing of the wine in your veins. Fuck it. Without another word, you grab Captain Levi by the shirt and shift your weight against his, pushing him backward into his office doors. He let out a slight groan as his body slammed up against them. When he looks at you, his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly agape.

You flash a smile, “I want this."

Your hand slides up his shoulder to his undercut, fingernails softly scratching at the hair there. His jaw tenses tightly when he caresses your face, causing you to tilt your head to lean into his warm touch. He continues to stare at you as his thumb gently brushes over your chin, tugging your lower lip downward in the process.

His touch is electrifying. Your whole body is dependent on it. You want more. No, you need more.

Something about you looking at him with your innocent doe eyes causes him to break. He wraps an arm around your waist and suddenly switches positions with you so you’re the one who’s pinned. The wood behind you paired with Captain Levi’s body is suffocating from his urgency. The doors rattle loudly and you slightly worry if anyone will hear what’s going on.

But the concern vanishes as quickly as it came when something hard presses up against your leg again. Your body rolls forward to brush onto it. His eyes darken several shades, now looking at you through lidded eyes. He takes a deep breath and sighs, placing his forehead on yours gently. Your hands find their way to the sides of his neck and the beat of his heart throbbed against your palms.

Delicately but urgently, you lean forward and place your lips to his. He’s… warm, smooth. You don’t know what you were expecting, but his personality was always so void of emotion. A certain type of coldness. Whiplash courses through your brain as thumbs gently stroke your cheeks, the rest of his fingers gently occasionally scratching the base of your scalp. He pulls away and looks at you again, looking for some type of permission to kiss you more.

His usually gray eyes are now sparked with a slight tinge of blue, like the spark of a giant wildfire about to happen.

“Please kiss me, Captain.”

He clarifies, “Just Levi.”

You lean into him and softly moan when he takes your bottom one in between his teeth and pulls gently. After he lets go, his movements become more hasty. His tongue brushes against your lips and the next kiss deepens. The leftover taste of wine and accents of mint play upon your tongues. It’s borderline euphoric. While his lips are urgent and demanding, there’s a certain intimacy and softness to them.

Your fingers find their way to his hair, intertwining strands in between them. His hand drops to the back of your thigh, nails slightly dragging across the skin there, and lifts up. It opens your pelvis to him as your leg now sits on his hip.

Cap— Levi pushes himself up against you, your spine pressing up against the doors behind you and the hard object brushing against the area in between your legs. It must be him. Your mouth drops open at the thought, breaking the kiss from Levi and looking down at your connected pelvises. Your forehead drops to his shoulder and his lips go to your ear again.

“You feel that?” Levi calls your name, low and breathy. Goosebumps rise on your skin and your heart feels like it’s about to explode. “You did that. You do this to me.”

A strangled moan escapes you and your eyes squeeze shut, your hips involuntarily bucking against his. Levi’s grip trails up your back and into your hair, reaching for your scalp and contracting his fingers together. With his grip on the roots of your hair, he forces your eyes upward to meet his again. He kisses you again. This time a little too briskly.

“It’s been quite the day for the both of us,” he mutters, stepping away and letting your hoisted leg drop to the floor. “Why don’t we shower, hm?”

He steps back from you and begins to walk away as panic floods your entire body. Levi must’ve noticed because his gaze shifted, looking at you with slight concern. His eyebrows furrow together.

“What is it?”

“Uh,” you shift uncomfortably. “Like… shower together?”

“If you want you can shower alone, but I would like for us to both be clean.”

Behold: A bigger wave of panic.

“No,” you slightly jump, grabbing his arm. Levi arches an eyebrow, his amusement and lust now seemingly completely gone when he looks down at your grip. You immediately let go and an intense blush blossomed across your cheeks. “I… shit. Sorry. I’ve… I’ve never showered with anybody before.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Really?”

“Tch. Come on. We don’t have all night.”

* * *

Just like the rest of his living quarters, the shower is beautiful. Fresh eucalyptus hangs from the showerhead and his shower is made of transparent glass doors and dark yet shimmery tile flooring. The wall that the sink stands against is one giant mirror. There are no decorations. This is infinitely nicer than the shower room you had in your own quarters.

He lights a candle and sets it near the shower on a washcloth, causing a warm light to envelop the entire room. Levi stands back up and faces you and the anxiety you are experiencing worsens. He steps towards you, closing the space by wrapping his hand around your waist.

He pleads, “Talk to me.”

“I’m nervous.”

“I appreciate your candor,” Levi slightly chuckles, reiterating your words from earlier. “My eyes won’t leave yours if yours won’t leave mine.”

Your heart relaxes a little, “Yeah, okay.”

Levi’s fingers slowly work to undo the buttons that adorn your white shirt, exposing more and more skin as he makes his way down. His stare pierces yours. It makes you want to go into a corner and hide, but you stand your ground and bite the inside of your cheek. Eventually, his hands dive into the fabric and push it off your body, landing as a puddle of fabric on the floor. He picks it up, folds it, and places it on the sink.

“I find it a bit ironic,” he whispers when he finds the belt of your pants, slowly undoing it. His fingers are long and slender, hands accented with palened veins underneath skin.

“What?”

“You are so self-assured and confident in your abilities, more so than the rest of the Scouts,” he sets the belt down next to your shirt and begins to unbutton your pants. “Yet here you are, a nervous mess, just for me.”

Your eyes struggle not to flutter closed with his words, which add even more to the wetness gathering between your legs. You have to be, quite literally, dripping by now. The candlelight highlights the side of Levi’s face, accentuating his beautiful features with a glow. Something about seeing him in this needy, wanting state just makes him all the more attractive to you. If that’s even possible.

He’s keeping his promise so far. His eyes don't deviate from yours, even when he pulls down your pants. They settle into an uncomfortable pool at your ankles. While he’s down, balancing on the balls of his feet, he hooks two fingers into the sides of your underwear and slowly pulls them down. You feel like you’re going to pass out, seeing Levi at your feet as you are almost completely naked. While he’s down, he plants a few kisses to the soft skin of your thigh and mutters something unintelligible. The echo of his voice reverberates in soft waves across your skin.

After, he rises so he’s eye level with you again, gently dragging his fingers against the curvature of your spine before undoing your bra. He brings it down your shoulders. You now stand completely bare in front of him. You take a deep breath and muster a small smile at him.

“Your turn,” your voice slightly shakes.

Your eyes are glued to his as his body works to strip itself of clothing. You step forward, though, and begin to help. Levi lets you take off his shirt, making a conscious effort to not work too fast to undo the pearl buttons. The merciless eye contact is starting to become unbearable when the shirt falls to the floor, your hands ghosting over the warmth of his chest. His muscles are hard and strong. You close your eyes and note the number of scars that litter his body as you feel patches of rough skin under your fingertips.

A certain feeling of melancholy takes over you.

While Levi’s teaching techniques aren’t always the best, you couldn’t think of another person more deserving of peace and happiness. Petra always said he was brought to here by Commander Erwin “kicking and screaming,” but you often wondered if that was really true. He has quite literally lost everything. The Survey Corps is all he has left.

You fight the lump forming in your throat.

“Hey,” he calls. He grabs your chin, making you look at him. The redness of your watering eyes doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “I got the rest.”

You nod and step back again before he takes off everything else and places it into a hamper in the bathroom closet. After, he steps into the shower, now steaming and fogging up the glass.

You follow him in and he steps under the stream first. You’ve never seen him so relaxed when his fingertips run across his scalp and a quiet sigh releases itself from his throat, eyes closed. This causes you to break the deal first. Streams of hot water flow down his chest and abdomen, but you don’t dare go lower than that.

Levi calls your name, full of amusement.

“Weren’t you taught as a child that it’s impolite to stare? Switch positions with me.”

You shrug past him and stand under the stream of water. He grabs a bottle and squeezes it, causing a generous amount of silvery, glittery liquid to come out of it, and begins washing his hair. The water feels almost cool compared to your body, which was hot from the tension between you two. Nonetheless, you enjoy it and close your eyes, leaning your head back as Levi did.

You both assist one another in washing your bodies, Levi’s touch slipping across your skin effortlessly. The bathroom is dim enough that not a lot of you or him can be seen right now. Still, though, his touch stings in a good way and spreads throughout your body. He washes you from head to toe and you do the same to him.

Once you are both done showering up, with very little words exchanged during it, you stand under the stream together. His wet hair slightly covers his eyes as he looks at you, once again stroking your face with his thumb. He leans in slowly and connects his lips to yours, the wetness from the shower making your kiss even more arousing.

You feel Levi twitch against your leg and in a desperate effort to get some relief, you stand on your toes and slip it in between your thighs. Not entering you, but sliding up against your sex. You rock your hips on it. It brushes against your clit repeatedly and a strangled whimper drops from your lips. Levi buries his head in the crook of your shoulder, causing you to wrap your arms around his neck and push your chests together, needy for more skin-to-skin contact.

He steadied your hips against the shower wall and slowly thrusts into the soft, slippery space between your legs. The tip continued to brush against your clit again and again, causing sparks of pleasure to course through your pelvis. He began kissing, sucking, and biting at your neck harshly, a stark contradiction from the movements. Your mouth dropped open at the sensations and you wrap your arms around Levi tighter, breathing softly in his ear as he continues his assault on you.

“Levi…” you pleaded softly. He groaned quietly and wrapped a strong arm around your waist, pulling your hips in and pushing them away.

“Fuck, you feel too good,” he breathed and suddenly turns off the water, pulling out. “Come on.”

The withdrawal of pleasure is almost torture.

Levi grabbed two towels from the closet but doesn’t give you yours just yet. He quickly runs the towel through his hair a few times and brushes it briskly with his body before wrapping it around his hips. His V line, speckled with glistening droplets of water, disappears into the towel. You bite the inside of your lip.

He grabs your towel and begins to dry you off, softly patting the towel against your body. He drops down to the balls of his feet again to dry off your legs and lower abdomen. Once he gets around to your backside, he squeezes your ass through the towel and elicits a whimpered moan from your throat. You can swear you can see a small smirk in the candlelight.

He wraps the towel underneath your underarms and tucks one end into the towel, securing it in place. Once he has a candle in hand, he opens the door to the bathroom and takes your clothes with him.

Levi’s bedroom is dark, but you can distinctly make out a large bed with a dark comforter thanks to the large window next to his bed. Streaks of moonlight pours in from the outside and illuminates the room just enough to give it a cold, yet alluring aura. You can see the entire city, endless homes stretch beyond the horizon until the wall. You can’t even begin to comprehend how beautiful this sight would be in the evening during sundown.

You are ripped out of your thoughts when you hear Levi set your clothes down on his dresser nearby. Interestingly enough, he takes your knickers from the pile, sets them on the floor next to the bed, and turns to you once again. This time, you move towards him and close the space between you two. Your hands work smoothly to remove the towel from your body, throwing it to the floor. Levi is pushed backwards and he falls onto the bed. You climb on top, separating your legs to straddle him. His mouth drops in surprise at your dominance.

You are the first this time to initiate a kiss. Your tongues instantly find one another’s, breaths hitched in throats. His strong, wandering hands find their way to the curve of your lower back, tracing slow and tiny circles there. You hold yourself up using Levi’s chest to stabilize yourself.

“Wait, stop.”

You do what you're told and pause for a moment, waiting to hear what Levi has to say. You brush back some of his hair from his face.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

You say, completely honest, “I’ve never wanted to do anything more.”

Your lips lower themselves down, planting kisses on the side of his mouth, his chin, and finally, his neck. Levi lifts his hips up towards yours and squirms a little underneath you.

“This is so cute,” you tease lowly, dragging your tongue up from the base of his neck to his earlobe and sucking gently. You breathe and moan quietly in his ear, which causes him to lift his hips again and struggles to hold back a whimper. “Who knew Humanity’s Strongest could be broken down like this with so little effort?”

A growl rips from Levi’s throat and before you know it, a firm grip plants itself in your hair and rips you away from his neck. He slams his lips to yours and kisses you so hard that you are sure that your skin will be bruised tomorrow.

“This mouth of yours certainly does a lot of talking,” said Levi, pulling away and using his thumb to pull your bottom lip downward. “Why don’t you actually put it to good use?”

As a response, you open your mouth and take his thumb in. Being as seductive as you can muster, you slide your tongue up on the underside of his finger. His face is priceless as you softly bite down on his digit and flash a small smile at him. You reach up and grab his wrist, wrapping your lips fully around his index and middle fingers. You leisurely move up and down while sucking and utilizing your tongue to pin his fingers to the roof of your mouth.

You pull him out, “You mean like this?”

You guide the flat of your tongue against the side of his index finger, flicking your tongue upward once you stroke it in its entirety. He looks completely dumbfounded, messy wet hair tangling over his face in frustration.

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind.”

He grabs your hips and moves your body up towards his face and then flips you over, making you lean over by pushing on your back so your chest is flush against his torso. Your vagina is in his face and his dick in yours. You’ve never felt more vulnerable. Holy fuck.

Your cheeks heat, “Levi—”

“Let me make you feel good.”

Your cunt clenches at his words involuntarily. Your eyes widen as your fingers hesitantly find the fabric of the towel and open it up. Levi’s dick springs free from its restraints and Levi breathes a sigh of relief. It twitches slightly in the moonlight.

You confidently grab the shaft, causing a hiss to emit from Levi. The tip of your tongue traces along his length before you wrap your mouth around his tip. The certain, subtle flavor of his precum takes over your sense of taste.

Your actions stop when Levi plants a kiss against your cunt. Your body jumps in response as a jolt of slight satisfaction shoots through your legs. It’s not nearly enough, though. Still, your head falls against his thigh, eyes closed.

“Are you serious?” he groans. “I cannot believe you’re this wet already. So filthy.”

You don’t have the willpower to talk back to him anymore. The only thing you can do is take Levi’s dick in its entirety and express the effect he has on you that way. You wrap your hand around him and twist up and down to compensate for the inches you cannot reach. Levi buck into your mouth slightly and his arms wrap around your legs and spreads your lips open.

His tongue makes one big stripe from front to back.

“You taste so good,” he mutters. His palm raises and smacks down on your ass. “Mmm.”

A loud shriek rips through your chest and vibrates throughout Levi’s dick as he continues to eat you out. You decide to mirror his movements. When he makes you feel particularly good, you speed up the pacing of your sucking. And when he slows down, you do the same. The moans and sounds Levi makes against the skin of your inner thighs is almost intoxicating. At times, he even bites at the skin there and continues to leave marks on your ass. The mixture of pleasure and pain is almost too much to bear.

A finger traces your entrance, slowly and tantalizingly, before he thrusts it in and out. You can practically feel his gaze piercing your skin. He curls it just perfectly and hits your g-spot.

“Levi, oh,” you curse against his cock, eyelashes fluttering closed.

His finger, paired with his tongue, you are only left with strong waves of orgasmic pleasure. These waves course through your entire body and you can’t help but slightly bounce back onto him. You mirror his efforts when you suck him, coaxing many beautiful sounds from his mouth.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers into your thigh, kissing it softly when you pump his entire length with your mouth and hand working in a steady rhythm. He smacks your ass and grabs it, hard. “You’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that, fuck.”

You continue your rhythm, noticing how Levi’s legs are now slightly shaking and his breathing is louder than ever. A few moments later, he forces you off and spins you around then kisses you hard. Your flavor on his lips and him on your lips mix together, creating a unique sort of taste. Addicting.

He flips you over so you’re on bottom while he stabilizes between your legs. His cock sits on your pelvic bone. So close yet so far. Both of you are now completely naked, pressed against one another. How did we end up here? Everything is moving so slowly yet so fast at the same time.

“I’m not finished yet,” Levi said as he started kissing down your body. He cups one of your breasts with his large hand and he closes his mouth around your other nipple. You lean into his touch, wrapping an arm around his head and planting a kiss to the top of his head. He replies with taking a nipple in between his teeth gently, pulling slightly and letting go.

Levi does the same with the other breast, circling his tongue around it and sucking before moving further downward. Your back arches when his breath fans on your pussy, running a free hand through his hair and pulling softly. You don’t look down or make eye contact with him when his tongue runs up and down your slit, finding your clit with ease.

A gasp escapes your mouth when he starts sucking, making an obscene noise echo off Levi’s bedroom walls. You relish in the wonderful feeling as the flat of his tongue laps against you. He lifts one of your thighs and places it on his shoulder without stopping. He smoothly slips a finger inside and thrusts it in and out a few times and curls it upward. He interlaces your fingers with his and speeds up his movements.

Then he stops.

Your eyes shoot open to find Levi reaching for something next to the bed. He comes back up with a familiar fabric pooled in his hands. Your underwear. He bundles it up and wraps it with his fingers and grabs your jaw.

“Open.”

“Th—”

Before you can finish protesting, he opens your mouth and shoves the fabric in. And just like a lightning strike, he’s down and fingering you again. This time, he’s much more rough.

His actions become so relentless that your whole body starts to shake. Your moans became so loud that they also echoed in the room, endlessly chanting Levi's name despite having a gag. Your cunt clenches around his fingers and your legs stiffen. He adds another finger. You run your free hand through your hair and use the other to clench onto Levi’s hand for dear life as stars begin to prickle at your vision.

“Thaaat’s it,” Levi coaxes against you. “Does it feel good right there?”

He twitches his fingers with gentle force against your G-spot, causing you to yelp and nearly jump off the mattress. You nod fervently and whimper beneath him. Waves of pleasurable warmth spread through your pelvis and body, causing you to cry out.

“Come on, I want to hear those pathetic little moans of yours. Let go.”

His husky voice echoes in your ears and he doesn’t stop as your climax rips through your body. The room spins and your legs uncontrollably shake, noting that this is the strongest orgasm you’ve ever experienced. A series of muffled obscenities and Levi’s name fall from your lips as you slowly come down.

You feel his fingers slip out, causing your body to convulse a few times, and you hear him licking them clean. He comes up and removes your makeshift gag and throws it to the side. You hear him chuckle.

“You’re stunning when you cum, you know that?”

He plants soft kisses on the skin of your neck as you still come down from your high. Another ache grows inside of you though, something you can’t ignore. It wasn’t enough.

“I want you.”

The sudden confession makes Levi freeze in his tracks. For a second, you swear you see him stop breathing. He lifts himself up so his face is just inches from yours. His jaw tenses in the candlelight. You reach up and gently stroke his undercut, shifting uncomfortably underneath him as he doesn’t say anything.

“Do you want me?” you whispered, a stinging sensation starting to take over your eyes.

Levi lowers his hand down and rubs the tip of his dick against your cunt, sliding it up and down. Your eyes flutter closed and he almost does the same. You pull your bottom lip in between your teeth, looking up at him with lust. His eyes are completely blown out, black irises ridding them of the familiar silvery blue color you had been used to seeing all night.

He then grabs your hand, lowering it so it wraps around his length. It’s hard as a rock.

“Does it feel like I want you?”

Your heart nearly leaps in your mouth. You start slowly pumping, noticing the look on his face as it melts with your touch. His hips slightly roll forward to aid in your movements. Your eyes won't leave his face. Watching Humanity’s Strongest be so vulnerable and relaxed was alone a sight worth dying for. You line him up with your entrance and he begins to push forward into you.

That is, until a light began to rise on the horizon. Your gaze turns towards the window and your eyes widen in shock.

“Oh shit!” you swear loudly, all of your lust disappearing almost instantaneously. “Sunrise!”

His head turns towards the window and he quickly gets up off of you, freeing you from his grasp. He pulls on a pair of boxer briefs as you run a frazzled hand through your hair before jumping up. You scramble to find your clothes on his dresser and pull them on your body. You hear a chuckle from Levi as he lays back down on the bed,

“This seriously isn’t funny,” you struggle to hold back a laugh yourself. “Levi, Commander Erwin will have my head if I’m not back in my office when he arrives.”

“Well, maybe being a captain is too much for you to handle.”

You quip back as you tie up your hair, “Or maybe you’re just a bad influence on me.”

You turn to leave and Levi calls your name. You have your hand on the handle of his bedroom door and turn your head around to wait for him to speak. He pauses, like he’s contemplating his words carefully. His gaze drops and he sighs.

“Good luck.”

You laugh, “Yeah, I have a feeling I’m gonna need it. Thanks again for the help.”

With that, you quickly rush out of Levi’s bedroom. You swear you can hear him curse underneath his breath but you’ve got more important matters to attend to.

* * *

Your worst fears are confirmed when you find your office doors open and Commander Erwin sitting at your desk. You should’ve known; the commander is never a second late to anything. The blazing orange sun comes in from the windows behind him and bleeds into the hallway where you’re standing.

You look presentable, sure, but he eyes you up and down with a cocked eyebrow when you come into his vision. If he asks, you think you can just blame it on the lack of sleep.

And not because you were getting laid.

When you’re in your own office doorway, you set down your briefcase and give a salute to your superior.

“Commander Erwin,” you say confidently and respectfully. “I sincerely apologize for my tardiness, sir. How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long,” he responds, putting down one of your pens that he had been toying with. A wave of relief floods your being. His eyes drop to your briefcase. “I entrust the paperwork deadline I assigned to you yesterday has been met?”

“Yes.”

“I looked over some of the work that was left on your desk already. Very nicely done, very thorough.”

“Thank you.”

You pick the briefcase back up and walk towards your desk, flipping the clips open with a slight squeak. You retrieve the giant mound of paperwork stashed away and set it on your desk in front of your commander.

He begins sifting through it and inspecting it, but you notice his eyebrows draw together.

“I see this is some of Levi’s handwriting.”

“Sir,” you affirm. “He assisted me in completing it.”

Commander Erwin sighs heavily, his head shaking, and your heartbeat begins to race. You feel a drop of sweat run along the curvature of your tensed spine.

“I understand that I didn’t give you much notice to complete your task and I know Levi’s work, so I will say this only once: do not let paperwork pile up like this again.”

Getting reprimanded by Levi and now Commander Erwin within a few hours, you think. Lucky me.

You salute again, “Very much understood, Commander.”

“Good. I know you and your squad had been preoccupied conducting various excursions and missions outside the wall before their deaths. You have notable leadership skills, great ideas, and other undeniable assets to bring to Scouts. If it was anyone else, this mishap would’ve had them demoted immediately. We can’t afford negligence.”

You nod.

“But I would like for you to join the Special Operations Squad.”

The room begins to spin. You become faint but your composure remains rigid. How will you ever face Levi after staying up with him all night? And… what you two did together. How you were so close to actually… his moans…

You clear your throat.

“Sir, may I ask why?”

“Right now, the squad includes Eld Gin, Oruo Bozad, Petra Rall, and Günther Schultz, all hand-picked by Levi himself. They are now responsible for bringing Eren to the old Scout Regiment headquarters. There, he will learn to control his titan powers under their supervision as a result of the military tribunal.”

“He hadn’t told me… Is he aware that I’m joining him?”

“He will soon. But I know you would make a very valuable addition. I’m sure he would be in agreement. It would also give you a break on paperwork. You and Levi would share that workload.”

“I see.”

“They are getting ready to depart shortly with Eren. Get cleaned up and follow up with the captain as soon as you can.”

“Sir.”

And with that, the commander gets up, walks out of your office, and closes the door behind him. You collapse on the nearby wall, sliding down to the floor and burying your face in your hands.

Commander Erwin… What the fuck are you thinking?

* * *

Read Part III

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tiesthatbind-tf · 11 months

Photo

If you’re on a desktop, please full-view these lads if possible! Tumblr compressed the hell out of the preview unfortunately, but so much love was poured into them that it’ll be a shame if y’all didn’’t full view for the goods ;u;b (click, then right-click and open image in new tab!)

I’ve always held a deep fascination of for the Lambros, though for whatever reason, media beyond G1 seem allergic to actually making them brothers, or at least brothers who LIVE till the end and have something resembling a healthy/active relationship, so it was something I wanted to explore with TTB’s version of The Lads--Serafino and Sergio Saverio--who, despite being Twins, are very distinct individuals (Sideswipe in particular has a narrative focused on self-realization after a past of being constantly second best/in Sunstreaker’s shadow, and establishing healthy boundaries, even with those closest to you) with their own occasionally intertwining stories

They’re the team’s Battlefield Hellions, a pair of Feral Elric Brothers willing to punch open multiple Gates of Truth for each other, and who despite their flaws---especially Avowed Bastard Sunstreaker, whose protectiveness and care for Sideswipe is, at times, seemingly his only saving grace---will never have anyone questioning their love for each other.

You can find their (2881 words, this one’s a doozy!) pre-war full story below the cut!

Born to a Manual Class couple in the Little Italy neighbourhood of Lower Manhattan, the Saverio Twins could have easily gone the path of Cain and Abel, and given the lopsided treatment they received from their parents as children, it was a miracle that they didn’t.

Serafino Saverio — hair kissed by the sun — was the much-welcomed firstborn upon whom their hopes were pinned on.

Sergio Saverio – hair tainted with blood – was the surprise second and didn’t even have a name until after a week of his birth (he could only assume they were hoping he didn’t make it that long, being the twin with ‘complications’) as the unplanned and unwanted spare mouth to feed in a household which had always been intended for a family of three, and not a day of his young life passed that he wasn’t reminded by his parents that they had kept him as a favor.

The favoritism was as blatant as it was malicious when it came to food, praises and gifts—all of which were afforded to Serafino, all of which were an afterthought for Sergio who always took everything with a smile, having been told to simply be thankful he had a family, and that Serafino had to come first.

However, Sergio’s treatment didn’t go unnoticed or ignored by Serafino—sharp and cunning for his age—who began to question why his brother had less than him, why his brother was beaten for doing the things which he himself would simply be given a stern talking to, why his mother’s tone fell and rose so drastically between her sons and why his father never had a kind word for a boy who constantly bent over backwards for a fraction of the love they afforded him.

The aching sadness the older twin saw in his brother’s eyes when they were seven and had received their birthday gifts—a beautiful hand-crafted wooden sword for him, a cheap gas station tin Lamborghini for Sergio—gave birth to childhood defiance as he exchanged his gift with Sergio to the surprised dismay of their parents who were stuck awkwardly trying to explain why he couldn’t do that and why they saw it fit to treat two brothers so differently on they day they were born together, only seconds apart.

It was here that the seed was planted of Serafino’s protectiveness over Sergio–his best friend, his playmate, his shadow—and Sergio’s near-unwavering loyalty to Serafino—his defender, his confidante and the only one of their family who truly cared for him.

They grew up tight as thieves as Serafino’s disgust at their parents’ attempts to drive a wedge in between them burned ever brighter, because if they would not treat his brother the same as he, then he would act out in defiance until they treated him the same way they treated Sergio out of sheer frustration.

They walked hand in hand in the streets, always looking out for each other, and sparred fist to fist on the apartment rooftop where they would learn to fight together because the world wasn’t kind to little Manuals—and they had the cuts and bruises to show for it—but from up here where that world seemed so small beneath them, they could dare to dream of a better one where Sergio could be the dashing fighter Serafino’s sword allowed him to see himself as, and where Serafino would be able to one day own and drive a car similar to the little model he had traded that sword for.

School was no more kind to them than the streets were—at twelve, Serafino had learned to read the people around him and kept an aloof and guarded presence, but Sergio — eager for warmth and connection — forged friendships openly and recklessly, class divisions be damned.

His perceived insolence to The Way Things Were earned him the ire of a group of law enforcement prodigy picks when he befriended a girl among their ranks, and they set out to teach him a vicious lesson about staying in his lane despite her protestations.

He fought back hard, but it was Serafino’s fury that was unmatched when the older twin came across the assault in progress and leapt into the fray to back him up.

When the dust had settled, the brothers stood tall among the twitching bodies of five prodigy picks, the leader of the group beaten up so severely by Serafino that their dislocated jaw had to be wired shut for a month.

Serafino earned the scar on his jaw from this altercation, and as the twin who had dealt the most damage, was suspended from schooling indefinitely and put to work to help pay off the medical bills forced upon his family despite open confirmation from the girl at the center of the fight that the brothers’ role in it was that of self-defense (and it was reasoned that if he was so quick with his hands, he best put them to a more productive use).

His reputation as a pugnacious, split-knuckled hellion preceded him among the rough-and-tumble warehouse workers he was stationed with, and, for better or worse, they accepted him into the fold as ‘one of the lads’ despite his youth.

Over beer and cigarette smoke—a vice he embraced too early—he became privy to how truly hopeless their lives were, born in the same class as their parents and their grandparents before them, destined to die in the same class no matter how hard they worked to climb a ladder whose rungs seemed to increase every year, and it made him all the more bitter to the world.

When he crossed paths with one Tulio Hoffman — a stag Beastman attempting to evade authorities in an alley — while on his way back to the workers’ hostel, he made a split-second decision to cover the man’s tracks and pointed the cops elsewhere out of spite for them. His chutzpah, as Tulio called it, earned him the Stagman’s respect, and having seen the calluses on his palms and the crowbar he wielded with unusual expertise for his age, Tulio—who revealed himself as the elusive Thunderhoof, an up and rising don— extended a hand to him with the promise of a better life, one that didn’t require him to slave away in a warehouse for an eternity.

He agreed, seeing a chance to wrest the life he wanted for himself—and by proxy his brother— by force, and pledged loyalty to Thunderhoof who initially employed him as a scout and informant. It was work Serafino excelled in — his relentlessness to get the job done won the Stagman over, and he was quickly promoted to Thunderhoof’s personal assistant, following the don on business deals and clandestine meetings across the city and helping the man keep his ledgers and income on track.

He experienced the High Life for the first time—fine clothes, good food, a fast car—and it was a lifestyle he grew an insatiable taste for and was desperate to keep for himself (attempts at sharing this life with Sergio were politely declined, and there was an understanding of their different approaches to climbing out of the dregs, even if they did not always agree with the others' methods)

The big money Thunderhoof made from taking part in illegal pitfights seemed like a natural progression given his prodigious skill with fisticuffs, and his first win when he was 18 was one the Stagman—who had taken on the role of a somewhat twisted adoptive father—celebrated and honored by gifting him the neck chain he wore, which also served as a symbolic gesture from Thunderhoof that the business would one day be passed to him. Serafino continued his career as a much-feared pitfighter with a rumored body count— the dreaded ‘Aureleone’ (Golden Lion) of the rings — all the while rising up the ranks of Thunderhoof’s mob until he was the man’s underboss, and keeping an eye out for Sergio like any good big brother worth their salt.

Sergio’s scar above his eyebrow remains a daily reminder of the day the system came for him and his brother, and while he was allowed to remain in school, he was transferred to a heavily-manual establishment which would ‘better suit those like him’.

The situation at home became even more unbearable than it already was, as his parents blamed Serafino’s downfall on his carelessness and stupidity—despite Serafino’s assertion that the bullies deserved everything that happened to them and he would reoffend on sight if they hurt Sergio again—and he began to spend more and more time outside, visiting Serafino at work whenever he could to repeat the day’s lesson during breaks so his brother still had access to education and sneaking into worker’s rallies by the docks.

It was here that he was drawn to the music and effortless charisma of a young dock worker and union figurehead, Jace Zayden (Jazz), which whom he struck up a friendship, and where Thunderhoof brought Serafino deeper into the underbelly of the city to escape the system, Jace gave him hope that change could happen on the surface, in the sun.

After a blowout with his parents when he was 16 where they’d made it clear he should never have been born, he finally left the house. Not wanting to burden Serafino who had already suffered enough for him in his eyes or be indebted to Thunderhoof (who he respected for taking care of his brother, but understood was a dangerous man with an agenda), he roomed with Jace who had taken on the role of his mentor and helped him find employment as a warehouse worker so he could save up to afford rent for his own place once he was old enough to sign a lease. His nights were divided between helping Serafino with supply runs and stock-checking for Thunderhoof’s contraband goods, and joining Jace at union meetings as well as helping the man with his activism and protest plans.

When Jace was arrested after a brutal crackdown on a workers’ rally and never came back to the neighborhood, Sergio feared the worst but wasted no time stepping into Jace’s position when their local union chapter began to flounder so he could continue their fight for a better life.

Like his brother, he had become intimately acquainted with the injustice perpetuated by the neverending cycle of poverty their class was intentionally, systematically trapped in, but rather than abandon it and the people in it as Serafino had chosen to do, he wanted to help break it so his community could rise above it with him.

As the most prominent figurehead of an unprecedented, rising tide of unionization in Manhattan which started from across the pond in the UK, he was marked out as a person of interest by local officials desperate to keep the status quo, and his increasing clashes with local cops tasked with bringing those behind these ‘public disturbances’ to heel brought him in contact with a face he remembered from his school days—the same upperclass girl he had tried to befriend, whose testimony had helped keep him and Serafino out of juvie and who was now a tough-as-nails rookie with a reputation for breaking ranks.

Stella Armstrong (Strongarm) was more than a little surprised to find out that the scrawny, bright-eyed Manual scrapper who had suddenly disappeared from her classroom after the Big Fight was now a feisty, quick-talking, hot-tempered rabble-rouser with a careless smirk and a witty comeback for every police warning lobbed at him.

Regardless of his teasing and her scoldings for the ‘trouble’ he made for her whenever they crossed paths, Sergio kept eye out for her on the streets—good cops didn’t last long in the ranks, he knew this much—and vouched for her being an ‘honest one’ whenever she was stonewalled for information regarding her cases.

In turn, Stella spoke out in defense of him whenever her colleagues brought him in and attempted to remand him for a period much longer than the minor infractions he was hauled in for could justify, and stopped any attempted violence on him and his community in lockup, making enemies among the force in the process.

When several prominent union supporters began turning up dead to the radio silence of the police, Sergio approached Stella for help in investigating the matter, and she agreed to do so after finding out that reports filed on the murders had been closed before any investigations had wrapped up.

She gave him a burner cell to keep their communications private after the two agreed that something about the situation smelled like a cover-up.

All of this was confirmed when Stella called him with a warning that the killings were tied to the current mayor who had pro-functionist ties, cops on payroll and was desperate for a re-election in the coming month.

She had also found documents approving the use of Mnemosurgery on a list of union figureheads to turn them into Trojan Horses on their own movement and communities—a list which Sergio’s name headed, which meant he had to go into hiding before the next minor infraction brought him back to lockup.

When she couldn't give him an answer on if the breach of classified information could be traced back to her, he feared for the worst again—the unsolved fate of Jace still hung heavy in his mind—more so when further calls he made to her went to voicemail.

The next call Sergio received from her sent him on a hunt for her in the winding alleys of Brooklyn, where he found her bleeding out from a through-and-through gunshot wound to the stomach she received from her own colleague, after it was revealed that the drug bust she was a part of was a front to get her in a vulnerable position so they could take her out.

Her refusal to back the thin blue line at all costs, newfound knowledge of wide-spread corruption in the ranks and growing friendship with a ‘target’ had made her a liability, one they had orders to get rid of.

He raced her to a back-alley clinic, unable to bring her to the local GH because of the real danger of the rest of the force coming over to finish the job.

Stella survived the ordeal with his help, and the two of them went into hiding together to plan their next move; As she had never turned off her body camera, she had damning evidence of the hit which she had immediately downloaded to the burner cell for safekeeping in case the footage was later remotely wiped, and she had taken pictures of the documents beforehand.

To Sergio’s surprise, help came from two unexpected places; Jace, who returned from self-exile in the UK after it was discovered that the same thing planned for Sergio had earlier been planned for him, and Serafino, who had broken the Mafia Code and put aside mob work and pitfighting the moment he caught wind of the target on his baby brother’s back. (When Thunderhoof had demanded that his loyalty to the mob come before his loyalty to his brother if he were to take over the mantle of Don, he balked at the idea)

As it turned out, Jace was part of the Resistance movement back in the UK which had branched out worldwide and inspired the rising workers’ protests in the States as well, and worked as a saboteur who had experience in exposing corrupt men in power for filth.

Stella’s near-death experience and the ongoing risk to her life made a strong case for her filming a dying confession which Sergio delivered along with her body cam footage to her father, who then passed both to an attorney whose services her family had employed to find justice for their ‘missing’ daughter.

The documents and list made it to the ACLU’s New York office, while Serafino and Jace both worked on a sting to catch the mayor red-handed, as they posed as bounty hunters looking to collect on Sergio’s head. As Sergio played his role as defiant captive and tactically bandied words with the mayor to lead the man to a full confession, Jace’s colleague, Brandon Shen (Blaster) hacked major digital billboards at Times Square to air the footage in real-time, destroying the man’s name and political career in the span of fifteen minutes.

Regardless of their victories however, both Sergio and Stella had become far too big of targets to remain where they were, and Jace offered to bring them all into the Resistance’s fold.

Sergio, for his own safety, had to hand over the reins of leadership to a new leader of the Manhattan Movement, though his community, knowing full well the risk he had put himself through for them, encouraged him to find safe harbor with Jace’s team mates who could afford him the protection he needed. .

He had carried on Jace’s work when Jace had to leave, and there would be others to continue the work here.

Serafino, chafing harder and harder against the control that Thunderhoof was rapidly losing on him, threw all caution against the wind, chose the codename Sunstreaker and joined his brother. --now codenamed Sideswipe -- as the new frontliners of the wider Resistance movement.

Whether he would come to regret the decision was still up in the air, but brothers stuck together, and the path ahead was one both of them would forge back to back with each other as fate damn well intended.

#maccadam #maccadams #humanformers #sunstreaker #sideswipe #Me: I love both twins equally #Earlier that day: Sideswipe is Best Boy #The Bugman in Sunny's sheet is the one and only Bob!

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koostarcandy · 1 year

Text

sweet thing

summary: a night where jungkook comes back to your sweet self, paired with long hugs and silencing kisses.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: fluff, there's nothing else you can expect here in star candy land ^^ slight mention of smut, should i mention jaykay has a bike here?

a/n: im putting out everything i can before i get busy again :// inspired by those eyes by new west :3 this is the same universe as the hold on couple but can be read as a stand-alone! oktybyeeee ilyyyyy <3!

sweetheart: found the bell peppers! we're making that pasta tonight 😤 see you tonight, love you ♡

jungkook re-reads your text, smiling wider each time. he shuts down his gadgets and grabs his helmet, rushing out so he could reach you faster. today was nothing short of long and draining, from half awake coffee making to zoning out at the big computer screen, it was all equally taxing, a routine he was slowly losing himself to.

he impatiently waits at a red light, looking out at pedestrians waddling on the rain soaked road infront of him. he sees worried mothers running after hyperactive children, teenagers sharing earphones and vibing, the elderly holding each other's hands to make sure they cross the road safely. these small things make him believe there's still hope in this world but his biggest reason for persisting will always be you.

you, with your fond smile and shimmery eyes when you see him at the end of a day.

with you all but jumping on him, trusting him to catch you. you try to hold him impossibly closer, landing kisses on every bit of skin of showing. you over him, bare chest to bare chest, heaving in breathlessness, stroking his tattoos and kissing your favourite ones. he gets ticklish when you do that, so you make it a point to kiss him all over, down to his fingers with boxing bruises. you sit up, scold him lightly for being too hard on his poor hands but sending him a proud gaze for progressing in his hobby.

jungkook plays his favourite memories of you in his head over like a broken record. times of you getting drunk and giggly over a bottle of peach soju and dragging him to every karaoke bar in sight. or when you made spicy cheese tteokbokki for 2 weeks straight, amazed that you never got bored of it. it could even be you snuggled into him at the crack of daylight, arms wrapping around him like the prettiest vines. you always press kisses on his chest, hands intertwining with his.

when he misses you deeply, like now, you are the only thing, the sweetest and most precious thing, on his mind.

"wow, immersion blenders are pretty fucking cool, huh?"

jungkook chuckles into your neck at your child-like enthusiasm, strong arms wrapping around you even tighter. the smell of roasted peppers, garlic and tomatoes are all over in your kitchen and the most distinct one in his sensitive nose, is you. his favourite jasmine lulls him into a sense of calm, ears tuned to your mid-cooking commentary and occasional humming.

"are we done yet? i wanna eat and sleep and watch wednesday with you," jungkook whines for the nth time into your neck, suddenly feeling the full effects of yesterday's leg day. you turn and kiss him, effectively shutting him up. your hands settle on the back of his neck, playing with the nape of his hair. he steadies himself with his hands on your hips, recognizing your foolproof tactic of keeping him quiet.

"patience, my dearest," you smile into his lips, "good things come to those who wait, you know that better than anyone else, koo."

"this pasta better be really freaking good, sweetheart."

"oh my god, this is the best thing that has ever been in my mouth."

"ugh, stop moaning, koo, your cute lil eyebrows are more than enough and are you sure about that? it's high praise."

"oh, my bad. you'll always be the number one when it comes to-"

"shut up and eat, there's a child here!"

jungkook laughs his elmo laugh, eyes immediately shifting to his beloved doberman. said child is half asleep, tired from playing around with his appa. your pink cheeks are full from the pasta you've made, your eyes becoming happy crescents when it falls on him. he keeps his empty plate aside, scooting closer to you. you take the hint and keep everything aside, sipping your soju-yakult-soda drink for a palate cleanse.

"oh, my big baby," you coo, cupping jungkook's cheeks and rubbing the apples of them. you place kisses on his head, recognizing your favourite vanilla shampoo on him. he curls into you, burying his face in your neck. you wrap him up with the fluffy blanket you've kept on the sofa for nights like these.

bunched up and tensed shoulders finally go down, breathing becoming even and scrunched forehead smoothing over. the jaunty music from the show you're both watching fade into the background, holding your lover as close as possible.

you love the fact that you're one of the first people in jungkook's mind to turn to for comfort because you'd give it to him anytime and any day. this is one of your favourite parts of your late nights together, wrapped in each other and drifting to dreamland and mind full of sweet things.

pt time: @armys-dna ; @junsai-tree ; @soobhyun ; @shatzkrinslinzki ; @jinsquishes ; @cherishoshi ; @fragmentof-indifference ; @indgio ; @jjkeverlast ; @parkdatjimin

#jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jungkook imagines #bts jungkook #bts fluff #bts x reader

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blue-slxt · 9 months

Text

Our Song Cord: Nobody Gets Out of Love Alive

(Chapter 4)

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

A/N: Time to finally get to the plot point that inspired this whole fic for me lol. This idea just came smack outta nowhere and it wouldn't leave my brain until I got it down so I hope you guys enjoy it. Every chapter title is a song reference, so if you know the song, you get a cookie. I really really appreciate feedback so comments and reblogs are heavily encouraged. All characters are aged up.

Series Masterlist

Previous Part | Next Part

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Omatikaya!Reader

Warnings: Reader Making Poor Life Decisions, Kiri Being the Best, Mentions of Smut, Cheating? (If you squint), Friends to Lovers, Angst, Misunderstandings, Mentions of Pregnancy

Word Count: 5.2k

Summary: Consequences and misunderstandings.

There’s a distinct shift in you and Neteyam’s relationship over the next week or so. In public, you both give the appearance of best friends. Partners in crime that do everything together just like everyone had always known you to. But in private, you more often than not spent your time as a sweaty, heaving pile of intertwined limbs. Even after the end of your heat, the two of you still couldn’t seem to keep your hands off of each other.

Neteyam, in particular, was getting bolder with his affection. It would be a small brush of his tail against yours, his hand lingering on the small of your back during actual training sessions, or even a quick sneaky kiss he’d press against your cheek when no one was looking. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely adore all the attention he showered you with. Your heart called out for him in a way that was unfamiliar to you, but it hit you with a force strong enough to make the blood all rush to your head. Your body craved him deeply as if he was the very air you needed to fill your lungs. But the revelation of all these feelings did complicate things.

The reality was, Neteyam didn’t belong to you. And soon, he was going to belong to someone else. You felt ashamed every time you would see Layao shoot him a smile or let her hands trail over his arms and you would feel your gut twist with nausea.

You knew that this arrangement you had with Neteyam was going to be coming to an end soon as his ceremony was coming in just a couple days. But it was the fact that your time was running out that made you want him that much more. To steal these small moments with him more often. Build more memories to hold on to like a security blanket. She would have him for the rest of their lives, you should be allowed these last few days.

And what an eventful few days it was. The two of you would see each other every single night. You would spend hours experimenting with new positions and possible kinks. You’ve both discovered a lot about each other and yourselves. You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve had him spit in your mouth. The thought of such a thing before would have disgusted you, but when you hold your head back and mouth open still holding some of his cum on your tongue and you watch that steady stream roll from his tongue to yours, you swear you’ve never tasted anything more delicious in your life. And Neteyam loves having you on top. He loves being able to watch your head fall back and release so many sweet, dirty sounds while your tits bounce with your every move.

And as much as you loved fucking him, you equally loved the tender way he’d hold you afterwards. You’d lay your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat and he’d kiss the top of your head while cooing sweet words to you. On several nights, the two of you would lose track of time and have to scramble to make it back home before everyone else woke up. It was a risky arrangement, but that just added to the thrill of it all.

But now, Neteyam’s ceremony is in 2 days and you can’t help the deep sense of dread you feel lurking just under the surface. It causes your vision to go unsteady and your stomach churn when you wake up in the morning. Suddenly, you’re rushing out of your home and to a nearby bush coughing up your stomach contents. It burns your throat and leaves a disgusting taste in your mouth. Your body feels weak trying to walk back to your home. You quickly rinse your mouth out with some water you have and decide it’s probably smart to go to the healing tent and be checked just to be totally sure that you’re not coming down with a cold. Hopefully, they have something that will settle your stomach.

When you walk into the healing tent you look around for any familiar face. “Kiri? Tsahik?” Footsteps shuffle over to you and it’s Layao. “Oh, sorry, I was just looking for Kiri or Mo’at.”

“Oh, they’re out gathering herbs. Are you alright? Is it something I can help you with?” Her voice is sweet and her expression is gentle. Another churn of your stomach plagues you as you fight to swallow back down the bile building in your throat.

“W-well, I woke up not feeling very well. I just wanted to be sure I wasn’t getting sick.”

“I can definitely help you. Mo’at has been training me more in these kinds of things. Come, sit.” She gently holds your wrist and leads you to sit on a mat nearby. You try to take deep breaths to help ease the erratic beating of your heart. Your eyes study her as she pulls out a small, sharp bone similar to the one that Mo’at keeps with her. Her voice is still gentle when she approaches you.

“It’s just going to be a little prick.” She pokes just barely through your skin and brings the tip of the bone up to her lips and lets her eyes close while she listens for Eywa.

After only a few seconds, her eyes shoot open and she smiles brightly at you. “You are with child. You have been blessed.”

A ringing in your ears starts. “I’m sorry, that must be a mistake. A child?” “It is no mistake. I have done this several times now. Eywa is going to bless you and your mate with a precious baby.” She clasps her hands together showing her genuine excitement for you.

Your chest tightens with a mix of emotions.

“I did not know that you had a mate already. I’m sure he will be overjoyed to know!” she places a hand on your shoulder and you do your best to not recoil from her touch.

“This is big news. I should go so I can rest. Uh, thank you.” You say starting to stand up.

“Oh, wait.” She turns to fidget with a myriad of different bowls and herbs and things behind her. “Here. These should help with the nausea and weakness.” She says as she places a small sack of herbs in your hands.

“Thank you. I should get going.”

The walk back to your home feels like it passes by in a blur. Your mind can’t process anything properly right now. A baby…you were going to have a baby. Neteyam’s baby.

‘Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!’ is your initial reaction. You flop down on your sleep mat and stare blankly ahead. What are you supposed to do?

You look down at your stomach and, all of a sudden, you’re hit with a wave of overwhelming affection. You hold a hand lightly just under your navel and let it sink in that there’s a little manifestation of your love growing inside of you.

But how are you supposed to tell Neteyam? This would completely derail his arrangement with Layao. You don’t want to cause any trouble or embarrassment for anyone.

While you’re lost in thought, there’s a knock on the post outside the entrance to your home. You jump at the sound, but relax a little when you see that it’s only Kiri. “Hey, Kiri.”

“Hey, Layao told us you came by the tent.”

“Oh, yeah. I wasn’t feeling good when I woke up so I just came to get checked.” The apprehension is written all over your face and Kiri can sense it.

“She told us about…” she doesn’t finish her sentence but gestures to your stomach.

“Ah, I see.”

Kiri comes closer to you and crouches next to you. “Don’t look so excited.” She jokes. You know she’s trying to cheer you up, but there’s too much anxiety storming in your mind right now.

“So, who is the lucky guy? Is it Aykxo? I saw you talking with him a while ago. He’s quite the catch.”

You try to quickly compose yourself when you turn your head away from her, but the quiver in your lip shakes your voice as it comes out. “No. It is not Aykxo. But I can’t say.”

Her eyebrows furrow in confusion. “If it’s not Aykxo, then who else would it be? The only other person I ever see you with is Net—“, she cuts her own sentence short when the circuits connect. When she goes silent, all you can do is look at her. Her expression shifts from shock to pity. “Oh no.”

“You can’t tell him, Kiri.”

“You’re joking. Please tell me you’re not serious. How did this happen? When? Is that why you’ve been out so late together every night? And all the marks on you? Oh, Eywa, I think I’m going to be sick!” You can barely register Kiri’s rambling when your head falls into your hands and the tears start to well in your eyes.

She pauses and takes a breath when she notices your small sniffles. She places an arm around your shoulders. “What are you planning to do?”

“I can’t tell him. It would ruin everything for him. I can’t do that to him.”

“But this is his baby. He’ll want to be there for you. He has to know. Besides, what are you going to tell him when your belly starts growing?”

She’s right. And you know she is. Of course, Neteyam deserves to know and you know that he would want to be there, but the fear of what this could do to your relationship is too great in your heart. It’s one thing for him to reject you, but to turn away you and your baby would utterly crush you.

“I haven’t thought that far ahead, but I can’t tell him, Kiri. I can’t. And you can’t either. Nobody can know.”

“Fine. I won’t say anything. But he should know. This baby is as much his as it is yours.”

You huff out a breath trying to decide on the best course of action.

“Do you need anything?” she asks still holding onto you.

“Just time.” You say plainly.

“Alright. Consider it done.” She responds in a very matter-of-fact tone.

You watch her in confusion as she stands and makes her way out of your home before you even have the chance to ask her what she means. Instead, you fall on to your back on your sleep mat and stare up at the sky musing to yourself about your situation.

…

This might be a mistake. When Neteyam asked you earlier if the two of you were still meeting tonight, every logical part of you screamed at you to make up some kind of excuse to say no. But seeing his hopeful eyes and that damned smile that defied all logic, you couldn’t find it in you to turn him down.

So, here you stood near the shack waiting. You beat him here tonight since your anxiety was running too high for you to just sit at home.

When you hear a rustling in the nearby bushes, your body tenses feeling him get closer. When Neteyam finally emerges, he’s clearly surprised to see you here first, but happy all the same.

“You’re already here. That excited to see me?” he jokes walking straight to you and wrapping his arms around your middle. He nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck and presses feather light kisses to your shoulder.

By Eywa, how are you not supposed to just soften under his gentle hold? “Teyam?”

“Hm?” he hums in response without moving his face away from your neck.

“Can we just sit together for a while? It’s been kind of a rough day and I just really need you.” Your voice is hesitant and small. But when he pulls back, there’s not even a hint of disappointment there.

“Of course, sevin.”

He’s gotten much more comfortable with things like that too lately. Every now and then, Neteyam will drop in a pet name for you. It makes your heart pound every time, even if you feel like it shouldn’t.

He sits on the ground cross legged and opens his arms out for you in waiting. You smile to yourself before slotting yourself right into his lap facing him and crossing your legs behind his back. You rest your head on his shoulder and he mimics you while rubbing his hand up and down the expanse of your back.

“What is bothering you, syulang?”

If there was ever a time to tell him the truth, this would be it. It should be. And yet, your mouth just opens and closes repeatedly searching for the right string of words.

“I just woke up not feeling really good…” not technically a lie. “And I just keep thinking about this. Soon, you are going to have your mating ceremony and we’ll have to stop this.” It sounds needier to your ears than you’d like for it to. “I mean, you won’t need my help anymore, you know?”

Your attempt at a recovery is unconvincing at best and you just pray that Neteyam won’t pick up on the underlying context. He’d never tell you whether he did or didn’t, though. Neteyam is a smart man. But still, it doesn’t take much more than half a brain and a pair of working eyes to figure out that you had it bad for him. He found it nothing short of adorable how your face would flush when he’d kiss your cheek or how you would stutter and stumble over your words when you’d ask for him to touch you.

“Well, if that is worrying you, then you’ll be happy to know that the ceremony has been postponed.” He says still just mindlessly rubbing his fingertips in shapes on your back.

Instead of happiness, your first emotion is surprise. You pull your face back to be able to look at him to make sure he was being serious. “What? Why?”

He just shrugs his shoulders, “I’m not sure. Apparently, grandmother had a change of opinion and suggested to my parents that we put the whole thing on hold.” “For how long?” “They didn’t say. Just until she is sure again, I guess.”

Your brain tries to figure out what reason Mo’at could possibly have for changing her mind. That was something she rarely ever did. Once she had an idea set in her mind, there was usually no talking her out of it. And, for some reason, your mind keeps flashing back to your conversation with Kiri from earlier.

“Do you need anything?”

“Just time.”

“Alright. Consider it done.”

There’s no way. You thought her demeanor was a little odd, but there’s no way that she managed to pull this off. You try to suppress the small smile that makes its way onto your face. You mentally file away a note to make her the best bracelet your amateur fingers could manage.

Neteyam notices the lift in your expression and it clearly pleases him to see you happy.

“I will always need you. We’ve spent our whole lives together. How could I ever not need you?” The hint of love in his voice and eyes is disarming. How are you supposed to not be completely in love with this man? You place your hands on either side of his face and brush your nose against his with a small giggle. “You are too sweet to me, Teyam.”

For the rest of the night, you both pass your time with just casual conversation. Neteyam tells you what kind of trouble Lo’ak has gotten himself mixed up in lately and you fill him in on the latest gossip among the people. Neteyam isn’t really one for gossip, but he loves seeing how enthusiastic you are with your vivid retellings. Neither of you can keep your hands to yourselves the whole time. You always have to be touching in some kind of way. Sometimes Neteyam has you sit in his lap, sometimes your back is pressed against his chest while you sit between his legs, hand holding, playing with each other’s braids, stolen kisses, longing looks, it’s more intimate than some mated couples.

It’s enough to make you temporarily forget about the tiny truth hiding in your womb behind your still flat stomach.

Once daylight starts threatening to creep in, you both decide to call it a night and sneak back home. Since it’s still so early, you actually accept Neteyam’s offer to walk you home this time. It’s far too early for even the earliest risers to be stirring around so there should be no real harm in it. All the while, your mind is trying to work out the best way to break the news to him. And then comes the fear. You don’t want to lose this. It’s so comfortable and pure and you don’t want to ruin that. But you won’t be able to keep this under wraps for long.

“Thank you for walking me, Teyam. You really didn’t have to.” You say turning to him once you reach your home.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to. I want to make sure you’re safe. Besides, it gives me an excuse to spend an extra few minutes with you.” His slanted grin exposes one of his fangs and you want to roll your eyes at him, but your smile gives you away. You go to turn and walk in, but you stop when he grabs your hand and turns you back to him. His eyes roam up and down your body and his voice is low. “Will I see you later?”

Fuck, he can’t look at you like that and talk like that. You literally can’t say no to him when he looks at you like that. You have to bite your lip just to keep from screaming. “Sure, Nete.” You say his name in a singsong voice teasing him.

He may laugh, but you know that he not-so-secretly loves it. He steps forward to peck your lips one quick time before finally letting go of your hand and watching you walk inside.

Neteyam knows that he’s in a tricky spot. On the one hand, he feels a deep sense of duty to his family, to his people, and to Layao. But on the other hand, he’d be lying if said he was upset about the arrangement being postponed because that means that he gets to hold on to this fantasy a little longer. He gets to fulfill his duty to his own heart. But which one should take precedent? It’s true he doesn’t want to disappoint his parents or his intended mate, but he can’t picture his future without you. Loving you, mating with you, having you bare his children. Not to mention how you not-so-secretly loved him back. It should be just as simple as that, shouldn’t it? He decided that he needs to have a talk with his father.

…

Rays of light beaming through the spaces of your kelku wake you late in the morning. Your stomach flips and threatens to make you spill, but you choke it back down just barely. This nausea feels like it will be the death of you. But you have daily chores to attend to. With a couple of deep breaths and a couple swigs of water, you settle your stomach enough to make it out of bed and out into the village. Today would be the perfect day to help weave some baskets. You can sit still and you can practice your weaving skills. You take a seat near the other women working on their baskets and use your fingers to slowly form the right intertwining pattern.

It’s tricky for you to say the least. Weaving has never really been your strong suit. Trying to understand the way the patterns and lines all come together to form one cohesive object was beyond you, but you give it your best effort regardless.

You get a little distracted by the feeling of eyes on you. When you look up, you can notice some of the other girls looking at you and whispering amongst themselves. That’s a little odd, but you figure it’s nothing worth worrying about.

“What ya working on?” a familiar voice appears right behind you and makes you jump. When you look, a smiling Kiri is crouched behind you.

“Kiri, you nearly made my heart stop!”

She hides her laugh behind her hand, “Sorry, I couldn’t help myself. You were just focusing so hard.” She moves around so that she’s sitting next to you now. “So, how did things go?”

You swallow hard trying to find the right words yet again.

“It went fine. We talked…a lot…about a lot of…stuff” you couldn’t sound more unconvincing if you tried.

“You didn’t tell him yet, did you?” you flinch a bit at her deadpan expression and tone.

“It just wasn’t the right time.” “Well, I’ve made sure that you have plenty of that.”

“So it was you!” your voice gets a little louder before you can really catch it.

“Shhhh, keep your voice down! You said you needed time so I bought you some time. But you only have so long before you’re not going to be able to hide it anymore. Plus, I have no clue how long before my grandmother actually makes up her mind. So, whatever you do, you better do it quickly.”

She’s not wrong. And you’re grateful for her help, but what are you supposed to do? How do you break news like this?

“But what am I supposed to say to him, Kiri? ‘Hey Neteyam, I know you’re supposed to be with Layao but, I’m pregnant with your baby’? How well do you really think that will go?” you ask with all the sarcasm you can muster.

“Very well, actually! Even the blind can see how much my brother loves you. And I mean love loves you. Don’t act like you haven’t noticed.”

Your cheeks get hot and you can only look away from her. “The timing just still feels off. I’ll tell him. I will. I just need to find the right time.”

Kiri sighs deeply next to you, “Fine, but just don’t let it get away from you.”

“Alright.”

…

When Neteyam arrives back at his family’s kelku, only his mother and Tuk are there. Neytiri was prepping meat for their dinner and Tuk was working on weaving a small basket for herself. Neytiri smiles at Neteyam when he walks in. “Welcome home ma’itan. Food will be ready soon.” She says barely taking her eyes off her working hands.

“Where is dad? I need to speak with him about something important.”

“Your father is in a strategy meeting.” She says and finally looks at Neteyam to see the apprehension written all over him. “What is it that’s troubling you?” She finally sets down the meat and her knife while she watches him shift his weight from one foot to the other.

Neteyam considers brushing it off as nothing and coming up with some kind of excuse so he could avoid this conversation with his mother. But then he thinks about it a little deeper. Maybe his mom was the right person to start with after all. While she was always strong and firm, she was also incredibly empathetic when it came to her family. She was often the more level-headed one and more willing to hear them out. He relents with a sigh and walks over to help her with prepping the food for dinner while he talks.

“It is about the arrangement with Layao…I am having some doubts about the whole thing. I understand that she is who you and dad and grandmother have chosen and she is a nice girl, but—”

“But you hold someone else in your heart.” She finishes the thought for him. She was always good at that kind of thing.

He finds himself unable to speak and opts to simply nod his head instead while he continues to work on his slicing. Neytiri places a hand on Neteyam’s face and makes him look at her.

“Layao is a good girl and the two of you together is good for the clan.” Neteyam’s stomach drops hearing this. “But, at the end of the day, you need to do what is good for yourself and if it is this other girl, then Eywa will find a way to make it so.” A small glimmer of hope reappears in Neteyam’s eyes.

“It would not be the first time something like this has happened. It’s how I ended up with your father.” She casually drops in.

Neteyam laughs a little to himself remembering all the times his parents would recall their love story to him and his siblings when they were little. It gave him hope that if things could work out for them this well, then maybe Eywa could make something work out for him too.

Neytiri takes the knife and food from Neteyam, “Go, find your father. It sounds like you need to speak to him.” A ghost of a smile sits on her face and Neteyam perks up a bit feeling a new wave of surety. He offers his mother a kiss on the cheek before jumping up from his spot and heading out to search for Jake.

The clan is alive with the hustle and bustle of everyone going about their day and getting their duties done. In the midst of his search for his father, Neteyam hears a call through the crowd of people.

“Neteyam! There you are!”

When he turns around, Layao is already making her way over to him. He sighs a bit because he doesn’t have time for this right now, but he doesn’t want to be rude to the poor girl. It was already bad enough that he was on his way to call off their arrangement. No need to twist the knife by ignoring her too.

“Layao. Were you looking for me?” he asks putting on his best, most casual smile he can right now.

“Yes, I wanted to give you this. I heard that you like yovo fruit and I figured you could use a snack while you’re going about your day. I’m sure you’re very busy.” Her hand rubs at the back of her neck trying to calm her nerves. Neteyam’s heart breaks for her. She’s truly a sweet girl and she is a catch in her own right, but she just isn’t the one that his heart calls for.

“Thank you. That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“It’s nothing. Have you heard the good news?”

“What news?”

“About your friend. She and her mate are being blessed with a child.” Her excitement is evident, but Neteyam feels like his brain just short-circuited.

“She and her mate? A child?” he reiterates to ensure he heard her correctly.

“Yes! She came to me the other day because she was feeling ill and I received the message from Eywa. Isn’t it exciting? But I didn’t know she was mated already. I wonder if it’s Aykxo. Remember when we saw them talking that one day? And then they disappeared off into the forest together after eclipse. It has to be, right? That’s what everyone else is saying.” her smile grows wider while she theorizes about the origin of your unborn baby and the secret of your lover.

Now, Neteyam is the one who’s feeling ill. This couldn’t possibly be true, could it? You would have told him…wouldn’t you?

…

Nerves consume you as you lean against the tree near the shack. Neteyam is late. He usually would be here by now and Neteyam is never one for being late. Maybe he got caught by someone trying to sneak off and he needs more time to get away. Your foot is involuntarily tapping the ground trying to release some of the tension in your body. Suddenly, you hear rustling through the bushes and can faintly make out dramatically swaying braids in the dark.

“Teyam! I was starting to worry that you weren’t coming tonight.” You greet him with a smile and walk towards him as he breaks through the foliage. When you approach him, he takes a step back from you. Your face falls. Neteyam has never avoided your touch before. Especially not recently. Usually, his hands are drawn to you like moths to a flame the second he lays eyes on you.

“What’s wrong?”

His jaw clenches and he’s avoiding looking you in the eye. This isn’t like him at all.

“Neteyam!” your voice gets a little louder urging him to finally look at you and say something. When he does look at you, the sight makes your heart break. His eyes are red and filling with tears and there’s a deep sadness tainting his otherwise flawless face.

“Teyam?” your voice is just above a whisper stepping towards him. Your hand is about to rise to touch his face, but his hand gently stops yours by your wrist.

“Is it true?”

You almost can’t even hear the question with how low his voice is.

“Is what true?” “Are you pregnant?”

Silence. Your entire body stills. It feels like even your lungs have frozen in place and stopped your breath all together. His eyes study your face waiting for some kind of sign or an answer. But, in truth, your silence says it all.

“Is it Aykxo’s?” his voice wavers ever so slightly when he speaks.

“Who did you hear that from?”

“That’s what everyone is saying. And I know you went off with him that night you went into heat.” The hurt in his voice is evident. You want nothing more than to deny it; to tell him the truth. But when your mouth falls open to speak, you can’t seem to find words.

“What’s worse is that you didn’t even tell me. I had to hear it from someone else.”

“Who did you hear it from?” “What does that matter? The point is that it should have come from you.” His voice is more firm with the hurt giving way to agitation.

“Teyam, I wanted to tell you, but it’s complicated…” tears start to well in your eyes ready to spill at a moment’s notice.

“No kidding. And to think, I thought you might actually…” a small sob breaks his sentence and he has to pause to take a breath and recompose himself. “Never mind. I don’t know what I expected. This whole thing was always supposed to be just temporary anyways so why don’t we just cut it here? We’ve got all we needed out of each other so no need to continue anymore.”

“Tey, please don’t do this. Just let me explain—”

“Congratulations on your child.” He turns and walks back through the dense bushes and branches and disappears right before your eyes.

The shock finally subsides and the despair flows through you. Your knees give out and you fall to the ground with tears cascading down your face. Sobs rack your body as you hold your stomach. It’s your worst nightmare come true. The man you love has renounced you and your baby. The baby that you didn’t have the courage to tell him belonged to him. That you belonged to him. Looking down at your belly, you quietly promise your baby that the two of you will make it through this…somehow.

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#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #atwow #atwow neteyam #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan #avatar smut

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gay-dorito-dust · 7 months

Note

Can we get a Bihan and m!reader mini fic(what do you call those?) where the reader is really touchy but only with bihan, and he only finds this out when reader comes to him for a hug in front of his brothers , where they act surprised at the reader’s actions.

Also I love love your work!🫶

Mini fics are often called drabbles or drabs for short :)

This isn’t going to have much -if any- dialogue at all, so be prepared for that. But thank you for enjoying my works, it’s much appreciated. 🦦

Bi-Han had been gone for a lengthy period of time on an intense mission he had easily summarised as a mission of high importance for the Lin Kuei. And all the while you were clinging onto his bare muscular back, your face firmly resting within the space between his shoulder blades that you would occasionally kiss, listening intently to every word that left his mouth; just as you practiced multitasking by having your hands gingerly stroke the scars that you knew were located on his abdomen.

You weren’t a touchy, feely guy by any means. You didn’t actively sought out physical affection nor distributed physical affection out to anyone, not even to your closest friends, as you tended to keep your hands firmly to yourself and show your affection and appreciation through different means. After spending some time with Bi-Han however had brought a side out of you that you weren’t aware was you ever had, a side that was strictly reserved for Bi-Han and Bi-Han alone; One where you would always find yourself being the first to initiate physical contact between yourself and Bi-Han.

One such instance being holding hands where you would subtly brush your hand against the back of his hand, before slipping your hand comfortably into his, your fingers intertwining within his own and holding onto him as tightly; as you possibly could as though you were scared to let him go, for fear that you had actually made him up within your mind in means of satiating a hidden desire, rather then search for it out elsewhere.

Soon after Bi-Han’s departure for the mission, the days that followed afterwards felt like an eternity when strung together, back to back. It wasn’t until then that you realised how much you deeply missed and craved Bi-Han in all his entirety. You hadn’t came to this realisation until way later, when during nights you had been instinctively reaching out towards his side of the bed in your sleep -jolting awake in an instant when your hand felt only bedding- looking for his distinct figure through the darkness; Only to be reminded that he was out on a mission and wouldn’t be back for quite awhile yet before attempting in going back to sleep.

This routine would continue for many more nights afterwards before news broke of Bi-Han was coming home has reached your ears. On that particular night you could barely find it within yourself to commit to some proper sleep, you would only end up becoming more and more fitful, before ultimately waking yourself up from your own restlessness and excitement in getting to see Bi-Han again. It was almost embarrassing if you weren’t completely taken with the stoic man with the stupidly gorgeous pair of eyes.

So upon the day of Bi-Han coming home, you were stood alongside his brothers, Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada, with the impatience of a puppy dog awaiting at the door for it’s owner arrival. And it must’ve been easily notable as both Kuai Liang and Tomas Vrbada shared a knowing look, but out of respect for your relationship with their brother, they didn’t speak upon it nor point it out to you; for they awaited patiently to welcome their brother come home and congratulate him on the success of the mission. It wasn’t until you finally saw Bi-Han within your peripheral vision did you felt your body take over, as you found yourself breaking out into a full on sprint towards the cryomancer.

You honestly didn’t care how you came across to others, you were the one who suffered sleepless night without Bi-Han to cuddle up to, not them, so they couldn’t judge you for missing your attentive lover. When you had gotten close enough to touch Bi-Han, the first thing you did when within proximity was hug him as tightly as you physically could, burying your head within his neck and breathing him in deeply as your hands grasped at his waist desperately; feeling your soul become whole once more as you allowed your eyes to flutter shut and a content smile blossom across your lips, happy to finally feel Bi-Han against you and it not be within your dreams.

The twin looks of utter surprise upon Kuai Liang and Tomas’s faces went completely unnoticed by you but not by Bi-Han, who always assumed upon first meeting that you were naturally affectionate towards your friends but upon seeing his brothers reactions, that didn’t seem to be the whole case. He would’ve reprimanded you for hugging him -and in public no less- when he had a reputation to maintain, but Bi-Han did had to admit that he had missed you whilst he was away, wanting nothing more then to feel you cuddle him from behind and feel your hands trace his scars; as It had acted as his own personal motivator in getting the mission done as quickly and effectively as possible.

‘Welcome home Bi-Han.’ You muttered into his neck. ‘I missed you greatly.’

‘I missed you too, little bird.’ Bi-Han replied in a tone where only you were able to hear him clearly enough as your smile widened as your hold on him tightened, just happy to finally have him back in your arms.

#mortal kombat x male reader #mortal kombat 1 x male reader #mk1 #mortal kombat x y/n #mk x y/n #mk imagine #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #bi han imagines #bi han x y/n #bi han x you #bi han imagine #mk1 x male reader #mk x male reader #bi han x male reader #sub zero x male reader

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mastermindmiko · 7 months

Text

Potions Partner (Part Six)

Pairing: Draco Malfoy + fem!reader

word count: 2672

Summary: Draco gets his own Prefect's dorm, and you're the first to see it

Warnings: kissing?

Part 7

Hey! if you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist.

requests are open

Y/N was walking to the Defence Against the Dark Arts class with Ron to class because Harry and Hermione had already gone there together earlier. The corridors were very crowded, and it was hard to see Ron even with his distinctive red hair.

She saw his messy hair a few people in front of her in the middle of the crowd. She was about to call out his name when she found him, but she got pulled to the side of the corridor.

She had her back pressed against one of the colonnades in the hallway. She was about to scream when a hand pressed against her mouth. She looked and found that Draco was smiling at her.

“Oh my god, you can’t just do that! I thought I was going to get kidnapped.” She whispered, angrily after she pulled his hand from over her mouth. He looks exceedingly tired with his hair dishevelled and with dark circles under his eyes. Nevertheless, his smile is bright and he says, “Go out with me this Saturday.”

“That’s the first thing you say after kidnapping me!” She says, and Draco’s smile doesn’t fade at her angry tone. He wraps a hand around her waist and bends down to kiss her, when she suddenly remembers where they are. She puts a hand on his chest, keeping him a safe distance away. “We’re in the middle of a crowded hallway.”

“A hallway that is crowded enough that no one will notice us.” Draco counters, and she looks around to find that they were indeed invisible to the people rushing to get to class. She looks back at Draco who was looking at her, he leans down to kiss her and she slings her arms around his neck to pull him close.

“I have class,” She parts their lips to say, and he groans, resting his forehead on her shoulder. He grabs her waist tighter and she lets out a chuckle. He tilts his head and to the side and starts to kiss her jaw. Her face turns impossibly red, and he whispers, “I haven’t seen you in nearly three days and the only thing you want to do is to go to class.”

“I do have to pass, you know.” She says, but class is getting less and less appealing by the second as he continues to kiss her jaw. “One class won’t make you fail.” He says, and his breath fawns against her neck making goosebumps appear.

“Snape will kill me.” She says, breathlessly when he returns to her lips. He pulls from her lips and rests his forehead against hers. “I’ll take care of Snape.”

She lets out a sigh, and she’d be lying if she said that she didn’t want to spend time with him. It would also be the perfect time since everyone will be in class, and as far as anyone’s concerned Draco’s still outside of Hogwarts. She sighs, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Thank you for the wonderful compliment, love. Now, let’s go.” He says and pulls her hand. They move against the sea of people and it’s a marvel how everyone else is so occupied with their own lives that they don’t notice Y/N Potter and Draco Malfoy sneaking off together.

Once they’re past the large group of people, and they realise that no one’s there anymore because classes have started, they slow down. They walk beside each other at the same pace and Draco holds her hand. She asks, “How was your mom?”

“Fine, just a tiny cold.” Draco answers, avoiding her gaze completely. He gulps, and she decides to drop the subject. They reach a secluded corridor and she asks, “Where are we going?”

They went down a couple flights of stairs and it’s getting chilly as they go down there. He answers, “The Slytherin common room, I have to show you something.”

“Are you taking me there to kill me?” She asks, and he swings their intertwined hands together and he replies, “If I was taking you there to kill you, I definitely wouldn’t tell you.”

“Fair enough.” she says, with a smile on her face. They keep going down until they reach the dungeons, and she remembers it’s location of the common room from when she had used the polyjuice potion when they were in their second year.

“Snape gave me a gift.” Draco says, and he says the password to the common room. It was completely empty inside. She rolled her eyes at his words, and let out a scoff, “It’s a wonder why he favours you.”

“You can’t insult me anymore.” He says with a smile on his face. They walked up the stairs and she never noticed how similar the dorm format was to the Gryffindor common room. She asks, “Why’s that?”

“You can’t insult your boyfriend.” He replied as if it was the most obvious thing. She raised an eyebrow at this new piece of information and she asked, “So you’re my boyfriend now.”

“Don’t I get a say in that?” she asks, and he shakes his head. She could see the gear shifting in his head then after a second he adds, “Unless you don’t want to?”

“I never said that.” She replied far too quickly for her liking and fast enough that a cocky smirk spread on his lips. All of a sudden, she realised where they were going, the boys dormitory. Her face flushed and she asked, “What’d you wanna show me?”

“It’s a surprise.” He answered not noticing her flustered state. She started to panic, because he wanted to have sex with her. She wasn’t ready, so she brought herself to a stop. “Is it your dick?”

He stops as well and he bursts out laughing. He hunches over and holds a hand over his stomach as he continues to laugh. Mid-way through his laughter, she realised that he probably didn’t want to have sex. The panic settled, but then the embarrassment arose. He wipes away a tear and says, “No, that’s not the surprise.”

He leads her inside a room where she can only see one bed. It’s completely green and it’s a very nice room. On the side, she sees another door, and Draco says, “Ta da!”

“It’s a room.” She says, after looking around once more to see if there’s anything worth the secrecy. He grabs her hand and brings her to the centre of the room. Draco says, “It’s not just any room, it’s my room.”

“Yeah, your dorm room.” She adds, still not understanding what is going on. Draco leads her to sit down on the bed, that was very bouncy she concluded as soon as she sat on it. “No, it’s my room. Only for me, Snape made it for me.”

“You spoiled rich white man.” She says after a moment, and he opens his mouth in surprise. He blinks a few times before saying, “I- excuse me- what?”

“You get a whole room to yourself, and the rest of Hogwarts have to share with a minimum of four other people.” she says and folds her arms. She visibly grimaces, remembering the state of her own dorm room, sharing a room with three other girls wasn’t easy. Draco frowns, “I thought you’d be happy.”

“Why?” she asks, confused looking at him. He rubs his thumb over her hand, and he notices the ring still on her hand which brings a smile to his face. Draco answers, “Because then we’d be able to spend time somewhere, and no one can find us.”

“I guess that part is nice.” she says, and Draco beams from beside her. He stands up and heads to his desk. He brings out a small emerald stone from the drawer and then walks back to her. “Here, if you tap it three times, it’ll get you inside the room, and if you press it two times it’ll get you outside the room.”

He puts the stone in her hand, and she’s impressed about how far he’s thought this through. It makes a smile want to grace her face because it shows that he does care. She looks at it again and she starts to look at it in disgust. Draco rolls his eyes and says, “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s green.” She says, shortly.

“So?”

“I can’t walk around with so many Slytherin green things, people will get suspicious.” She says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. He mumbles a few words she can’t recognise, and he grabs his wand. He tries a spell and the stone turns purple.

“You know what colour I want.” She says, pointedly. He rolls his eyes, and he reluctantly turns the stone into crimson red. She jumps to her feet and presses a kiss to his cheek, “Thanks, ferret.”

Just as she’s about to leave he grasps her wrist, “Ferret?” he asks, unamused. She smiles, and tilts her head to the side, feigning innocence, “What? You don’t like the nickname, I thought it suited you.”

“You can’t insult your boyfriend.” Draco says, and she grabs his tie to bring him down to kiss him, she gives him a quick peck and a few taps on the cheek, “That was your rule, not mine. I do whatever I like.”

“Well then, when will you be doing me?” Draco smirks, getting his revenge, knowing how flustered she gets when he makes dirty innuendos. She turns red, and her eyes widen. He lets out a laugh at her expression, and leans in to kiss her. He pulls away and asks, “You know that Hogsmeade weekend is this Saturday, right?”

She sighs at the loss in contact between their lips and nods her head. He cups her cheek, and says, “We’re going on a date.”

“Aww, it’s cute how you’ve planned it and everything, but that’s not possible.” she says, patting his cheek, sympathetically. He frowns and his eyebrows furrow. “No, it will be possible, we’ll just go very very early. We’ll be there at nine, everyone gets there at 2 we’ll be good to go. As soon as people start to pile up, we’ll part ways.”

“You really did think this through.” She says, impressed. He took her hand and he led her to his sofa that was on the opposite side of his desk. He sat down and spread his legs to cover the couch, and then he led her to sit between his legs, while her head was on his chest.

He notices a frown on her face, and he panics thinking that she’s uncomfortable with the way they’re sitting. Maybe he’s making them go too fast, he didn’t ask if she was even okay with this. “Are you alright?”

“You have a sofa too.” she pouts, and he can’t help the way a fond smile spreads over his face. He brushes a streak of her hair away from her face, and she smiles back at him too. “Are you comfortable with this?”

“Yeah, you have a nice chest.” she replies before registering her words in her head first. She blushes and he smirks at her words. He chuckles, “I know that, you couldn’t stop staring at it in the prefect’s bathroom.”

She blushes even more and buries her face in his chest, so he wouldn’t be able to see her. He chuckles a bit more and then she turns around to have her back against his chest with his arm over her stomach. “This is much more comfortable.”

“Tell me, what do you want to do at Hogsmeade?” He asks, and halfway through his sentence she notices that his left hand is decorated with three rings. She grabs it and starts playing with his fingers. “First, I want to go to Honeydukes because I want some sugar quills, then I want to go to the three broomsticks to say hi to rosie and have some butterbeer.”

“That sounds perfect, let’s just stay in the three broomsticks after.” Draco says, watching the way she’s toying with his fingers. For the first time in the past few days, he felt at peace. He presses a kiss to her head and says, “Let’s stay here for the rest of the day.”

“I can’t miss any more classes, and Harry will notice if I’m gone for too long.” she explains with a hint of disappointment in her tone as well. Draco takes the opportunity of her mentioning Harry and asks, “What’s he been doing this year?”

“Who? Harry? Why do you care? If this is the part where you tell me that you’re in love with my brother, I will kill you.” she rambles, and he laughs then expertly hides, “I’m not in love with him, just trying to take an interest in your life, the way boyfriends do.”

“Nothing much, this year’s been relatively calm. He’s just obsessed with his book and proving that you’re a death eater, but I know he’s insane.” She says and nuzzles back further into his chest. He uses all of his power over his body to not show any reaction to her statement. He laughs, “He has gone insane.”

“You need to stop mentioning my brother, it ruins the mood.” She says and he mumbles a quiet agreement even though he knows that he won’t be able to do that. He starts to play with her hair and she drops his hands quickly. He thinks that something’s wrong and he stops. She groans, “No, keep going, it feels good.”

He chuckles, but continues to play with her hair. She intertwines their hands and snuggles closer to him, if possible. He keeps on playing with her hair till her breath becomes even and her eyes close. He keeps playing with her hair as he’s overcome but tremendous amounts of guilt.

For some absurd reason, she trusts him enough to fall asleep with him. He doesn’t deserve it in the slightest. Not with what he’s planning to do after they part ways in Hogsmeade, and surely not when he’s been ordered to get information out of her.

He’s working for the man that killed her parents, the one that hurt her most, and the one that wants her and her brother dead. He rubs his hands over his face, and she mumbles, “Draco, are you okay?”

He smiles, and nods his head. She looks at him confused because of the wide smile on his face. “What?” She asked, he grinned even wider at her confused expression. He shook his head while saying, “I love hearing you say my name.”

She blushes at his words, and then she notices this is the first time she’s ever called him by his name. It’s an odd thing. He kisses her head, and she looks over at his room. There wasn’t a single item in that room that wasn’t either black or green. It looked very Slytherin, but nevertheless seductive.

She notices the clock over his desk and she registers the time. She jumps up and he does the same, startled. She finds her bag right beside the door and grabs it. “I’m late for class.” she explains, and he frowns.

“You could- never mind, forget it.” She says. She wanted him to walk her to class, but they could never do that, the thought makes her visibly deflated. This was only the beginning of their relationship and she was already getting annoyed because of hiding it.

He notices and walks towards her, giving her a sympathetic smile. “I’ll see on Saturday.” he says, and she nods her head. He pecks her lips as a goodbye and she taps the stone twice to exit the room. She finds herself right outside the dungeons, she’s far enough from the Slytherin common room that no one notices her.

She puts the stone in her pocket, and she walks to her next class, already thinking of what excuse she could tell her friends when they ask why she wasn’t in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

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