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arlecchno · 1 year

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mission accomplished [ scaramouche x reader ]

twenty-two | the story of us

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the aftermath of everything.

warnings: swearing, use of scara's real name, use of signora's real name, mentions of injuries, signora calls you sweetheart lol, just a bit of angst at the start, not exactly proofread

a/n: this is pretty much a filler chapter cuz it's just you trying to avoid scara lmao. title and overall chapter is heavily inspired by the story of us by taylor swift. happy reading!

grammatical errors may occur so please let me know if i've made any mistakes!

you feel like absolute shit.

yun jin eyed you worryingly from the kitchen as she prepared you a drink. walking to the living room with a mug in hand, she carefully placed it on the coffee table in front of you.

“you should have something to drink.”

you didn't reply, opting to only stare at the beverage instead. the hot mist of the steam was still floating around, and the strong aroma of the famous steeped liyuean tea waft through the room.

“do you think i'm a bad person?”

yun jin arched an eyebrow, placing herself next to you on the small couch. “what do you mean by that?” she asked, looking at you.

still staring at the mug, you speak up. “i always sacrifice myself for others, albeit a little too much, you could say.” you chuckled to yourself. “i thought that if i were the one who ended up hurt instead of others, it would be for a good cause. i never see myself fit being saved, because honestly, i don't deserve it.” you said as yun jin eyed your head along with your damp hair, wrapped up in a soaked gauze roll.

you looked out to the small window of yun jin's dorm, taking in the dull view of the still heavy rain. how long has it been? over an hour now? the rain still hasn't stopped.

“yet i made the person who i treasure the most hate me in just one night, just because i was too busy wanting to be the hero.” you turned your head towards yun jin, eyes puffy from the short breakdown you had earlier. “does that even make me a good person at all?”

yun jin sighed, grabbing ahold of your hands. your hands were as cold as ice, not surprising, she thought to herself. you showed up at her door still clad in your soaked dress from last night, and an unknown black blazer draped over your shoulders. you may be smart in yun jin's eyes, but archons, you couldn't even bring an umbrella along?

“there's nothing wrong with putting others first, luna. but you should also know that you deserve just as much help as others do, you know.” she said, hands smoothing along yours in reassurance. “is this about ivan?” she questioned, and you slowly nodded.

eyes tearing up again, you looked down to your lap. “we were doing so good, yun jin, so, so, good. but i just had to ruin everything, i'm so awful, archons, i shouldn't have stormed off on him.” you sniffled, tears falling down to yours and yun jin's hands.

you recalled back to the things you did with scaramouche before it all went wrong. the dance, the balcony, the night before, everything. looking at it now, you felt like that was all just a fever dream, because none of it could explain why you were breaking down over a heated fight with scaramouche.

how did things get so wrong?

you thought after the grad ball, you would've found leads and close up this case after getting enough evidence, and would continue on your life with a blooming relationship with scaramouche. but now, you're not sure if you could even go on with this case given your situation.

it was your fault, really. if it wasn't for your actions, you would've saved both you and scaramouche, with no one hurt. but you just had to be the saviour and risk your life, only to end up sabotaging your own relationship with him.

it was entirely your fault, even from the start.

maybe you should've never agreed on working undercover for this case.

“i really am a horrible person, huh?” you chuckled, averting your gaze back to yun jin. she had a sympathetic expression plastered on her face, feeling sorry for what you're going through right now.

yun jin engulfed you in a hug, hands rubbing your back. “don't say that, luna. you're just having a hard time. don't beat yourself up for it.” she said, pulling you closer.

you stayed still for a second, in yun jin's arms, before finally breaking down fully, drowning your tears on yun jin's shirt.

the rain was still pouring heavily, with bolts of lightning shattering across the sky, just like how everything was shattering your heart into millions of pieces right now.

“what in the world happened to you?”

signora stared at you through her computer screen, referring to your very obvious bandaged head.

you looked away, avoiding her sharp gaze. even though it was merely a video call, you can't help but get scared of her. from the tone of her voice, you could already tell that she's worried as hell.

huffing, you replied. “it's a long story.”

“that's not your room.” signora pointed out, looking at the background. “it isn't scaramouche's either.”

“i'm at yun jin's.”

“and why are your eyes red and puffy? did you just finish crying?”

you groaned, grabbing a pillow to bury your face in it. “you ask so many questions.” you complained, voice slightly muffled.

“of course i'm gonna be throwing out a lot of questions, i'm a cop.” she tried joking around, though stopped when you don't respond.

signora sighed, looking at your slouched form with your face deeply buried in a pillow, body slightly shaking.

she's never been like this, she thought. even during stressful days at the precint, or during finals back in uni, you were never one to show such vulnerable emotions to someone, let alone to her, your closest friend.

it must be that bad.

“are you okay?” she finally asked, voice soft, contrary to what it was a moment ago.

chuckling, you perked your head up from the pillow, tears already threatening to fall. signora's face turned even more worried at the sight.

“no. i feel like absolute shit.”

signora didn't reply, looking at you in worry through the screen, waiting for you to continue.

“i had a fight with him.”

the blonde-haired woman raised a brow. “don't you guys always do that?”

you heave out a huff. “this was different.” you muttered, looking down on your laptop keyboard. “we were getting along really damn well for the past week, but everything fell apart when last night happened.”

“i did remember that gremlin texting me that you got in the hospital, which was the main reason why i called you.” signora shrugged. “but i didn't expect for the story to be this complicated. you're gonna have to tell me all about it, y/n.” she said, hands making gestures.

sighing, you averted your attention back to her. “fine. i'll tell you.”

after what felt like forever, you finally finished telling signora about what had happened, from the past few weeks, all the way to yesterday's fight. even though the information were rather a bit too much for one to listen, signora was still able to catch up quickly on the story, humming at your sentences in acknowledgement.

“well, that's about it.” you finished, voice cracking.

“do you like him?”

“what?” you asked, dumbfounded.

signora brought up her hand to look at her nails. “the way you talk about him makes it seem like you have feelings for him.”

widening your eyes, you stared at your friend in disbelief. “wha– no!” you denied almost immediately. you wiped the tears in your eyes with your sleeve, and continued on rambling on how you have absolutely no feelings for the ravenette.

you went on for a couple of minutes, looking elsewhere to avoid signora peering at your flustered state. but when she never replied to any of your retorts, you snapped your head back to your laptop screen, just to see signora smiling mischievously at you.

you pursed your lips in a thin line. what is she smiling about?

oh.

oh. this woman.

“you're just trying to distract me from being sad now are you?” you deadpanned, and signora's smile grew even wider.

she let out a laugh. “ah, y/n, what a great detective you are, always catching onto stuff in a heartbeat.”

narrowing your eyes at her, you frowned. “not cool, rosalyne.” you said, crossing your arms. “you always do this.”

“i just don't want you to be sad, sweetheart. surely you two could work this out, no? the balladeer may seem like a bit of a douche, but i doubt he'd be this big of a jerk.” the blonde-haired woman raised her two hands and made gestures as to how big she was referring to, making it a point.

you chuckled. “sure.”

“have you went back to your dorm after the fight?” signora questioned after a moment of silence.

“yeah, kuni would've been in class this morning so i went back to get my stuff.”

signora raised a brow. “kuni? is that a new weird nickname you have for him?”

your eyes widened for the second time, and you quickly fumbled for a reply. “uh–n-no! no, it's um, nothing. just a uh– inside joke, yeah.”

no way in hell would you ever reveal scaramouche's real name to her, even if she was your closest friend. it's not like you wanted to be the only one who knew, but scaramouche had trusted you, and only you, for him to reveal a sliver of his background.

there's no way you would ever go behind his back to expose such a thing.

signora eyed you suspiciously, but didn't question further. clearing up her throat, she speaks up. “are you really going to be okay? if there's anything i could help then i'd be–”

“no.” you cut her off, cracking up a small smile. “it's okay, rosalyne. this'll be over in no time.” you reassured.

oh how you were so wrong.

the past two weeks have been hell for you.

you've never thought how hard it would be to avoid scaramouche in campus, and given how you only have one class together, you thought it would've been rather easy to not bump into him.

but you were proven wrong. so many times.

the first day without him was the hardest. you both had criminology that day, and you were stupid to think brushing him off would be that easy.

sure, yun jin was in criminology too, but it didn't mean it wasn't easy to not spot the ravenette in a lecture hall full of students with that obnoxious hair of his. you sat with yun jin quite far from your usual seat, which was a few rows back.

the bandage on your head was long gone now. after your last trip to the doctor's, he's informed you that you were free to take it off, which you immediately did right after your got home, cursing about how the thing's been such a hassle for you.

scaramouche still sat at the same place, not even sparing a glance at you, seemingly like he doesn't even know you at all.

but you couldn't take your eyes off his purple head, staring at the way he focused in class, the way he takes notes, everything. there wasn't even any reason for him to be acting like a student when you two were just working undercover, yet he blended in with everyone, listening intently on what the lecturer was talking about.

you, however, could not be subtle at all. yun jin had to keep pinching at you every time you glanced towards scaramouche's seat, which was every single second. it was impossible for you to focus in class when he's just sitting a few rows in front of you, you were practically itching to get over there and apologize for that night.

but you didn't, and would never do that, not even over your dead body. you could never let your pride down and just waltzed right back into his life, not after everything.

so you held your head high, pretending like all of this could be avoided.

you're convinced that the universe hates you.

“you've gotta be fucking kidding me.” you mumbled under your breath, watching as the bell to the campus cafe chimed, the guy you were trying to avoid for weeks from walking in.

out of all times he could've been here, you thought to yourself. this is gonna kill you.

you were just sitting in the campus cafe with your laptop on the table, trying to continue on the case, but he just had to come here. it was inevitable, no matter how hard you try. scaramouche would always appear in the corner of your eye, wherever you are. oh how you want to dig yourself into a big hole and just bury yourself in it.

covering half of your face with your hand, you turned your head to the window in hopes of scaramouche not noticing you.

maybe you should leave this place, and go somewhere else to focus back on your work. if scaramouche was here, there was no way in hell you'd be able to continue on working.

slowly turning your head back to the busy counter, you watched as scaramouche ordered his drink, with him solely focusing on the menu.

this should be it, you think. this was the perfect opportunity to escape!

you closed your laptop and quickly packed your stuff in your bag on the empty seat beside you. taking a deep breath, you grabbed your bag and drink, heading for the door.

you had your eyes plastered to the floor and head hanging low as you quickly head for the exit, hoping that scaramouche wouldn't turn his head back and notice you.

what you didn't realize was scaramouche trying to find a seat while waiting for his drink, and he was heading towards your direction, as you were heading towards his.

luck really wasn't at your side at all.

next thing you knew, you bumped into scaramouche harshly, the impact making your drink spill. luckily for the ravenette, your drink didn't land a single drop on him. unfortunately for you, your drink spilled all over your clothes.

“shit!” you whisper-shouted, caressing your head that bumped into a stranger's chest. slowly widening your eyes, you snapped your head up, wanting to apologise to the random person you just head-bumped, just to see that scaramouche was the one in front of you, eyes as wide as yours.

oh archons, this is awkward.

“y/n?” scaramouche mumbled in shock. his eyes darted towards your clothes that were now stained from your spilled drink, making him tug you closer by the arm.

he stared at your shirt for a couple of seconds before looking up at you, bringing up a hand to hastily check your face and head for any injuries.

his breath was fanning your face, and heat quickly rushed up to your cheeks from the close distance. you haven't been this close to scaramouche ever since the grad ball, which was around two weeks ago.

his touch felt foreign, but also something that you've longed for.

“are you okay? you didn't hurt yourself, did you? was the drink hot? did you get any burns?”

blinking for a couple of times, you brushed off those thoughts out of your head. this is not the time to be thinking about the past, y/n.

you grabbed his shoulders to push him away slightly, just enough to give you two an appropriate space. “it– it's fine! i'm fine.” you turned your head sideways, avoiding his gaze.

scaramouche furrowed his brows, not used to the idea of you pushing him away, when you've always been the one to pull him close.

“i uh– i actuallly need to get going.” you said sheepishly, rubbing the back of your head. brushing past him, you headed for the door, the bell making a sound as you opened it.

“wait–” turning back, scaramouche tried chasing after you, but stopped when you already left the cafe.

the ravenette frowned, retracting his hand back to his side. were you still mad at him? he asked himself. he pursed his lips into a thin line. maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh on you.

the few weeks without you has been hard for him. before, he'd always come home to your presence, whether it be you watching tv, eating at the kitchen island, or you doing work on the couch. but now, he comes home to an empty dorm, with only silence engulfing the place at all times.

scaramouche hates to admit it, but he missed you. more than anything.

“order for ivan!” a barista called out to him, making him turn his head to the counter. his drink was ready to be picked up, with the fake name of his written on the cup.

he sighed, running a hand through his hair as he headed for the counter. grabbing his drink, he left the campus cafe, the chilly wind automatically nipping his skin.

scaramouche took a sip of his drink, the hot beverage hitting his throat just nicely. he sighed once again, looking to his surroundings to see if you were anywhere in sight, which unfortunately, you weren't. goodness, how fast were you even walking? were you that willing to avoid him?

shaking the thoughts out of his head, scaramouche watched as the wind blows through the trees. he shouldn't be dwelling on such trivial matters. he doesn't need to see you right now. none of this bothers him. he's doing fine.

oh how he wished any of those words were true.

“you know, you can just go to him if you want to make up so bad.” yun jin remarked, watching as you stare at scaramouche's back.

one hand resting on your chin, you turned your head towards your friend. “hm? did'ya say somethin'?”

“you're unbelievable.” yun jin glared at you, flicking your forehead, which earned a whine from you. the young woman paid no mind as she continued on complaining. “you should go up to him and reconcile. i doubt he'd reject you.”

rubbing the spot she flicked at, you groaned. “no way. he's the one who should come to me and apologize. i'm not gonna just give up and let him win this argument.”

“is this really just about winning your petty fights?”

“...what do you mean?” you asked confusedly, giving her a perplexed look.

“i feel like there's more to it than just that reason.” yun jin crossed her arms. “otherwise you wouldn't be avoiding him for this long.”

you huffed, turning away from her dramatically. “it's only been two and a half weeks. i can go much longer without him.”

“doesn't seem like it to me.”

snapping your head back to her, you arched a brow. “what?” you questioned.

“don't think i've never noticed how your gaze on him lingers longer and longer in each class, how you keep stabbing and staring at your meals, and how you always save a seat at every single place we've been to, because his place was always a spot next to you.” yun jin pointed out, every single fact being shot right to your head like a missile.

not waiting on your response, she continued further. “there's even an empty seat next to you right now!” she pointed her finger at the unoccupied seat to prove her statement.

“that's just coincidence!” you fought.

she rolled her eyes at you, causing you to frown even more. “stop being in denial, luna.”

“'m not in denial.”

“then go and sit next to him right now.”

“wha– no!” you quickly turned down, bringing up both of your arms to make an 'x' sign.

you love your friend dearly, but archons is she annoying the hell out of you right now. you wished she could just keep her mouth shut, even if everything she's said were true. partially.

but then again, you're not gonna just tell her that.

yun jin narrowed her eyes at you for a moment, before sighing. she turned her head back to her laptop, which was opened to the topic you were gonna learn in criminology today. “viktor told me a couple of things about how ivan's been acting these days.”

you accidentally slammed your hands harshly on the table, which earned a lot of stares from other students in the lecture hall, scaramouche included. rubbing your neck sheepishly, you slouched on your seat in embarrassment, avoiding the stares you were receiving. yun jin merely chuckled at your actions.

“what did viktor tell you?” you asked almost immediately, figure still slouching. “did he mention something about me?”

yun jin smirked, finding it amusing how you were so eager to know about what's been going on with scaramouche, when you were the one who kept denying about the fact that you missed him.

catching onto her act, you pouted. “i'm only asking because you were the one who talked about it first.”

“sure, you are.”

“just– just get to the point!”

yun jin laughed, but obliged to your demand. “well, in terms of emotions, ivan is now pretty much emotionless. which is not surprising considering how he wasn't that much of an emotional person anyways. he's like a brick or something.” the black-haired woman said, eyeing the lecture hall doors to see if the professor has arrived.

seeing that he hasn't, yun jin continued. “viktor also told me that ivan's been hanging out at the campus library as of late. no idea why though, he's already gotten the dorms all to himself, he doesn't need to go to the library to get away from roommates anymore.”

“yun jin.” you cleared your throat after she finished her sentence, placing your hands on her shoulder as you turned her to your direction. “i love you, but that's just how ivan is. he's an emotionless prick who likes to do whatever he pleases. i've known that for over five years now.”

“...five? i thought you guys met at your old college?” yun jin asked confusedly, making you widened your eyes at your slip up. “five years ago would be when we're around seventeen. did you meet him back in highschool?”

releasing your hands from her, you scratched your temple awkwardly. “well– i uh, i guess so?”

“what do you even mean by that?”

“we– i um, met him in highschool, yeah, but we didn't really get to know each other until college.” you quickly fumbled for a lie, causing yun jin to eye you suspiciously. “stop looking at me like that!” you complained, avoiding her gaze.

yun jin stared at you for a couple of seconds, and you sweat, silently hoping she doesn't catch on your made up story. who would even believe that a 26 year old was making up a lie that they were 4 years younger?

the young woman huffed, about to say something before the professor suddenly barged through the doors.

you sighed in relief. maybe you were lucky after all.

or not.

“what do you mean you can't come with me to the library?! you promised to accompany me!”

the black-haired woman sighed, busying herself with her hair. “sorry, luna. viktor made a last minute decision to meet me, said he needs to talk about something.” she turned her head to your direction by the door.

groaning, you pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance. “viktor has the same assignment as me! can't you two just have your little date at the library?”

“i'm afraid not, y'know that viktor has always been a last minute person.”

“please?” you pleaded.

“no.”

“pretty please?”

yun jin rolled her eyes, heading to the fridge to get a drink. “that's not gonna work on me, luna, i'm not like your dear boyfriend.” she muttered. “why do you even want me to accompany you so bad? you like going places alone.” she asked, gulping down a cup of water whilst waiting for you to answer.

“first things first, he is not my boyfriend.” you denied rather quickly. “and secondly, you said he always goes to the library now, what if he's gonna be there?!”

“i doubt the library is going to be full, you'll be fine. just sit somewhere else if you see him or something.”

you eyed her sceptically. “i'll kill you if you're wrong.”

looks like she's gonna heave her last breath after all.

you have no idea why, or how, a library this humongous would be filled to the brim, students filling up the place like an ant's nest.

it was painfully unbelievable how much of bad luck you have for the past few weeks (you like to think otherwise), and it'd be the death of you if these things were gonna keep on happening. there was no way you'd be able to finish up this case in time.

peering over the many tables, you attempt on finding an empty seat with your arms full of books, which in your case, seemed to be impossible. you walked around the whole library, in hopes of finding a spot to do your work at, but to no avail.

grumbling, you silently cursed to the students that came to the library today. really, out of all days this library would be full, it just had to be the day you need to get your work done.

after what felt like forever, you finally found yourself a nice and empty seat a few feet away from you, even if the long table was full with other students. you'd accept any kinds of spot at this point, as long as you get to sit and do your work comfortably.

smiling, you walked up happily to the table like a baby duck following its mother, until you stopped halfway when you caught glimpse of the very familiar bundle of violet hair, your smile faltering almost immediately.

no.

this cannot be happening.

absolutely not.

“this has got to be the worst fucking month of my life.” you mumbled under your breath, the thought of your incident actually being the worst month for you suddenly thrown out the window.

this is seriously killing you.

slowly backing away, you turned around and walked over to the nearest bookshelf, hiding behind it.

what in the world are you gonna do now?

you slightly peeked your head to the side of the bookshelf, just enough to see scaramouche doing his work on the table, a few seats away from the empty chair you've been eyeing on. holding onto your books tightly, you quickly think of a plan.

should you just go back?

no, you want to finish up this assignment as soon as possible, you don't want to be late in submitting your work. just because you weren't exactly a student here doesn't mean that you can slack off on work, that's quite literally the only priority you have in life.

should you just look up the topics on the internet?

no, the internet is not the most reliable source, and you'd much rather gather up and use books, they're much more informative and useful. there's no way you'd fully rely on the web. and to add, you already have the books here in your arms anyways, it'd be a hassle to put them all back after everything.

should you just sit there?

it probably won't be that bad, right?

clenching your jaw, you finally decided that, fuck it, you're going there, whether you like it or not. ignoring him won't be that hard, you've basically been doing the same thing for the past two weeks, surely this'd be nothing.

you finally worked up the courage to walk back there and snatch the empty seat, just in time before anyone else could claim it. sighing in relief, you placed the heavy books down on the table and got ready to work as you pulled out your laptop.

after setting up your small work space, you cracked your fingers and did a bit of stretching, the thought of scaramouche being present barely bothering you anymore.

it's fine, just a couple of hours and you'd be out of here, there was no need for you to pay attention to that annoyingly purple headed guy.

speaking of which, maybe taking a teeny tiny peek at him won't hurt...

taking one of the borrowed books, you opened it up to a random page and act it as a shield for you to ogle your eyes at him, slightly peeking your head out to the side of the book to look at what he's doing.

scaramouche was busy working up something on his laptop, occasionally looking at a notebook to his left. you let out a huff at his annoyingly and frustratingly attractive face. why does he have to look this good in such a boring library?

the ravenette raked a hand through his hair, slightly knocking his glasses out of the way. you furrowed your brows, questioning yourself. when has he ever gone to public with his glasses on? you thought to yourself. that's fairly new, you think as you duck your head back down, just enough to hide behind your book.

pondering on the thought, you hadn't realised that, the guy you were thinking of, snapped his head right to your direction, and when you finally looked back at him to take a more closer look, he was already staring at you with a blank expression.

you widened your eyes, quickly hiding your head back behind the book you're holding upwards with heat running up your cheeks. what the hell?! why is he looking at me?! you fought with the demons in your head, cursing yourself over and over for your actions.

maybe this was a bad idea after all, because once you peeked back to his seat, he was still looking at you, with that stupidly forsaken nonchalant look of his.

fuck, you think to yourself.

at this point, you just wanted the ground to open up and swallow you, bringing you the very core of earth, in hopes of avoiding being in a sticky situation like this.

you two held eye contact for a moment, seemingly like time has stopped, everyone and everything stopping in a motion except for you and scaramouche.

it was funny, you thought. you only ever see these kind of things happening in tv shows and movies, yet the same exact thing is happening to you right now, which is fairly weird. is your life just some sort of entertainment?

the one to break the continuous eye contact was scaramouche, as he suddenly turned away to pack up his stuff, slamming his laptop down and shoving it in his bag. you continued staring at him with a confused expression, as you watch him standing up and leaving.

scratching your head, you thought to yourself at what you could've done for him to leave all of the sudden. did you have something on your face? you silently pondered, rubbing your face to see if there was anything there.

after a few seconds of no answer, you shrugged, and continued on doing your work like nothing happened.

maybe he just needed to take a shit.

how scaramouche wished you knew how crazy you're making him right now, suddenly leaving him with a rapidly beating heart, sweaty palms, and flushed cheeks. he thinks you're utterly insane, because he has no idea why the most subtle things you do is making him feel like this, his chest tightening up every time you were in his presence.

scaramouche shook his head as he left the library, slinging his bag properly onto his shoulder.

maybe he should ask childe about this, if he was even available that is. that shithead, he thinks, he always has to go missing at these times.

maybe pierro? or pulcinella, he guessed, the guy's one of the only few people he could actually tolerate, unlike dottore.

he sighed, cursing to himself over and over again for the whole walk back to his dorm.

you're fucking crazy. absolutely batshit insane for making him feel this way.

did you really think i was gonna make them reconcile this early

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angel-inrealtime · 1 year

Text

November F1c Prompts Day 5

A/N: Let's just not pay attention to the number on the days okay? okay.

Day 5 - Sight (Sky)

You love so many things about Perth, which isn’t what you were expecting. You gravitated to big cities as soon as you could travel on your own, lived in Rome and New York as naturally as a fish in water.

But from the very first time (in the in between time, when you were just a friend who had the flexibility to be able to travel and mentioned off-hand that you were at a loose end for Christmas – Daniel had found it so inconceivable, that someone could end up alone on Christmas and be okay with it) you’d found things to love in the big-country-town masquerading as a city.

In the time between the first Christmas and the next you’d moved from friends to seeing each other (still more situationship than anything else, then) and you looked at Perth through a different lens; then it turned into the faraway fond look in his eyes when he said ‘home’, the golden tan of his skin after a trip back there, and the comforting noises of his family on their twice a week FaceTimes.

The one that surprised you the least was the night sky on the farm. For all you love big cities, the light pollution blocks the stars, and the moon doesn’t look like it shines quite as bright, and if there are two things you’ve always loved it’s the moon and stars (from glow in the dark plastic meticulously arranged into mostly correct constellations on your ceiling as a kid to tracing them into the moles and freckles on his back as an adult).

The week between Christmas and New Year’s Eve stretched like molasses in the heat, even slower once everyone went back to their own houses.

(“To give you kids some privacy.” His sister said with a wink, followed by laughter from the other side of the door he shut in her face. He opened it less than five seconds later to say a proper goodbye to the kids, promised to have them for a sleepover soon)

“Can I show you something?” He asked, almost shy.

It was the shyness that threw you off. He’s not a shy person by nature. Careful, maybe, but not shy. And you’d expect that sentence to come steeped in innuendo, accompanied by a raised eyebrow and a smirk – especially that late, when you were curled on the huge couch with the book you were reading, tv on low in the background.

You thought he’d been puttering around after his shower, doing all the little homely things he didn’t normally get to do.

You shut your book. “Yeah, of course.”

He held out a hand from the doorway, waiting patiently for your fingers to find his. “Shoes.” He instructed, let you go so you could both slip on a pair of Vans from next to the door (it made you laugh in a stupid little fond way, that you preferred the same shoes). He picked up your hand again easily, like a habit.

“Is this the bit where you take me into the bush and it’s actually a horror movie? Nobody around for miles...”

He grinned, teeth flashing white in the porch light. “You left alive last year.”

“So that nobody would get suspicious, clearly.”

“Well, shit. There goes that plan.” He couldn’t even finish the sentence with a straight face.

You jostled him, shoulders bumping as you walked down the porch steps and into the warm night. “So, where are we going?”

“If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise.” He squeezed your hand before you could say anything. “I know, you don’t love surprises. But I think this one will get a pass.” He laughed, just a little self-deprecating huff. “Or, I hope it will anyway.”

In the end it was only the other side of the field next to the house, not even a 5 minute walk and the soft glow of light from the windows still just visible. There was a picnic blanket spread out and a bottle of wine, two glasses, next to it.

“Daniel...” You couldn’t stop the warmth seeping into your voice, soft in the warm night.

“Sit.” He nudged you, and then settled next to you. He made a pleased noise when he sipped the wine, and then lay down. “Come here?” It came out more like a question.

You savoured the red wine, fruity and pillowy in your mouth and just cool enough on the way down once you sipped. You were sure if you looked it would be the one you said you liked when you went on the tour with him and his friends. You settled down next to him, tucked yourself into the space between his arm and his body easily.

“Look up.” He whispered, breath stirring the hair on the top of your head.

The nights in Perth weren’t oppressive, except for the heat sometimes. They just settled around you like a weighted blanket, draped, and if you let them, the night sounds come right up to you - even if they’re far away.

You looked up and your breath caught in your throat, just for a second. Nothing interrupted the inky night sky except the bright splash of the galaxy running through it like a twinkling work of art.

“Oh my god.”

He sounded pleased. “It’s different out here, hey?”

“You can see so much...”

He squeezed his arm tighter for a second, long fingers almost caressing your arm. “Tell me?”

You felt self-consciousness creep onto your cheeks (but at least he couldn’t see it, in the beautiful, dark night). “Ah...it’s silly. I don’t...”

“You know all the constellations and all the stories.” He knew. Whether he’d worked it out or you told him about your fascination as a kid that never really went away, he already knew. “Tell me them.” His voice was soft and rumbly in his chest, right near your ear.

You started talking and he just listened, fingers still soft on your bare arm, and eyes following eagerly when you pointed out different constellations. You kept talking when you sat up for more wine, and on and on, almost through the whole bottle.

It must have been after midnight, when he looked over at you and you smiled tentatively back. “Sorry. I should have said...there’s a lot, I didn’t realise how much I remembered.”

He shook his head. “Why would you be sorry? Its amazing.” He leaned against you, kissed your cheek. “You’re amazing.” Daniel rested his head on your shoulder. “I really...” He hesitated, and you heard him swallow. “I really like you, you know?”

It came out soft, almost fragile. The night sounds moved around it to make space.

It had been coming, for almost a year. You found it didn’t scare you as much as it did in the beginning, the idea of it (of you, collective). You draped your arm over his shoulders to feel some of the tension drain from his body, felt the rest of it go when you kissed the side of his head. “I really like you too.”

“Okay,” he kissed your neck, turning his head just enough. “Okay, good.”

You knew there were bigger conversations to come (and they had), but it was enough then just to sit there in the still, warm night, feel the promise of it (of you, together) radiate up to the stars.

#f1 fanfic #daniel ricciardo fanfic #November f1c prompts #daniel ricciardo x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo imagine #f1blr #daniel ricciardo fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 driver x reader #f1 driver x you #formula 1 x reader

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nat-seal-well · 2 years

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WIP snippet!

Title: a cooldown, or a warmup?

When this is done it’ll be explicit and 18+, but as always, there’s also lots of fluff too. This snippet is some of that fluff.

I didn’t intend to write a sort-of sequel to let your guard down; this was supposed to be something just on its own but I started typing and it ended up being one anyway. You know how it goes with writing. Anyway, enjoy some Huxley/Damien 💙

(Also, if you want to blame anyone for this, blame @taelonsamada)

“Dami?” Huxley’s voice calls from the living room. He sounds tired. “I’m home.”

Damien leaves his book open and facedown on the table to greet him. Huxley looks tired too, but there’s a smile on his face when Damien enters his line of sight. Two large, warm hands cup the sides of Damien’s face and Huxley leans down to press his lips against Damien’s own. It’s a familiar sensation at this point, but it still fills him with electricity.

“How was the gym?” Damien asks when he eventually pulls away. Huxley lets one of his hands linger against his cheek, and he has to resist the urge to lean into it.

“Lost track of time. I didn’t mean to take so long, I’m sorry.” He’s dressed in a Huxley-typical outfit: hoodie and joggers and a tanktop–Damien can see the steep cut of the collar with how low his hoodie is zipped. It shows off a very generous amount of collarbone and chest that Damien tries not to stare at, but he doesn’t pull it off very well.

He says, “You don’t have to be sorry. You’re allowed to do things on your own. But you look exhausted.”

The grin Huxley offers him only makes it more obvious. “Might’ve pushed myself harder than I should have,” he admits. “Since I didn’t go earlier this week, I figured I’d stay a little longer this time, but I guess I didn’t pace myself very well or something. I’m just a little sore, s’all.”

Now that he’s mentioned it, Damien notices the way he’s holding himself. Huxley is anything but tense, but he looks tense now: shoulders hunched in and head bowed, every line and plane of his body yells discomfort.

Damien fiddles with the zipper of Huxley’s hoodie, unsure if he wants to zip it up the rest of the way or stare like a kid in a candy store for a little longer. The metal bit jingles like a bell. “Go change, Hux. Actually, wait–shower first.”

One half of Huxley’s smile quirks up just a little bit more. Damien likes it when Huxley smiles; his nose wrinkles just a fraction, and the corners of his eyes crease the slightest bit. It’s nice. “You trying to imply something? I mean, I know I just got back from the gym, but–”

“A hot shower,” Damien interrupts. “For your muscles. To help them relax. Come on, you should know this by now. I thought you were the king of self-care?”

“I… what? I’m not a king of anything.”

The rest of the group says differently. But that’s a discussion for another time. He smacks Huxley’s shoulder with less force than the flutter a butterfly’s wing and sends his boyfriend–his boyfriend!–on his way down the hall.

“Don’t make me get in there with you,” Damien warns.

Huxley pauses to glance over his shoulder with an expression that looks positively shit-eating. “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Dami.”

The heat burning in his face, right under the skin, has absolutely nothing to do with Huxley’s teasing. Nope. Not at all. Damien doesn’t want to call it manifesting, but he’s a firm believer that if you say something often enough and convincingly enough, eventually you’ll begin to believe it. Sometimes it actually works.

#redacted asmr #redacted fanfic #redacted huxley #redacted damien #huxdami #fic wip #wip excerpt

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herehavesomeheadcanons · 1 year

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On the 7th day of Christmas, my true love gave to me… 7 Winter Sports!

Ya know what... Y'all just gonna have to be patient and bear with me with these. I don't have the motivation to write them ahead of time.

Freed Justine

❤️🎄Freed’s favorite winter sport is ice skating. It’s smooth, elegant, and requires some degree of talent. He’s also pretty damn good at it! It isn’t something he usually brags about, because when Bickslow found out about it he teased Freed mercilessly.

❤️🎄Like the gentleman he is, Freed will take the time to teach you how to ice skate. He's a very patient teacher, and he'll let you hold on to him until you're comfortable.

❤️🎄He might try to show off for you. Just a little bit.

Tamaki Amajiki

💙🐱The only winter sport this poor baby can do is sledding, and that is because Mirio and Nejire drag him sledding with them every year. He's scared out of his mind, and usually sits in between them, clinging to whoever is in front of him. Honestly, he'd rather be at home curled up in a blanket!

💙🐱You're going to be going sledding as a group with Mirio and Nejire! Mirio will definitely suggest a race. You and Tamaki vs him and Nejire! Tamaki is terrified and clings to you the entire way down, shaking like a leaf in a hurricane.

💙🐱After subjecting him to such trauma, the least you could do is cuddle him when you get home!

Doppo Kunikida

📔👓Kunikida definitely has more important things to do than play in the snow. But if you can get him to take a day off to spend time with you, he'd like to learn ice skating. He's never done it before, it just sounds cool.

📔👓So either you're going to be teaching him while he's wobbling around like a drunk penguin, or both of you are going to be absolute disasters. Either way it's sure to prove entertaining (and mildly painful)!

📔👓Dazai probably shows up and glides around perfectly just to annoy Kunikida. What a little shit.

Rogue Cheney

🖤🐉Being the overprotective mom friend he is, Rogue is likely a sledding kind of guy. Never on dangerous hills, though! Frosch could get hurt!

🖤🐉Frosch loves sledding, so Rogue takes him every year. And now you get to tag along! It's super cute to watch him fret over Frosch's safety! And, if you happen to be small and delicate, he'll fret over you as well!

🖤🐉After sledding it's always time to warm up by the fire with some hot chocolate. He can't have you catching a cold!

Hitoshi Shinso

💜🐱Hitoshi doesn't have a preference for any winter sports, but he's likely been dragged along to go sledding with either class A or B. So, that's probably what he's most comfortable with.

💜🐱Honestly he'd rather be inside cuddling, but you begged him to come sledding with you until he relented. He'll sit behind you on the sled and hold you. He's like your seatbelt!

💜🐱Once he gets into it, he might want to try something a little more exciting. That really steep hill with all the trees looks fun! Yeah, he can be a little bit of a daredevil sometimes.

Alphonse Elric

💛🐱Al absolutely loves sledding. He has lots of good memories of his mother and brother going sledding with him! He'd love to make more wonderful memories with you!

💛🐱He really isn't too much of a risk taker, and he's too much of a sweetheart to put you in any uncomfortable position, so he'll make sure to pick out the safest hill. He'll also try to make sure the sled doesn't go too fast, and he'll hold you from behind to make sure you feel safe. He's such a dear, honestly!

💛🐱Meanwhile, Ed and Winery are racing past you at mach speed, screaming the whole time!

Gaara

❤️🏜️Gaara and snow don't mix well, so hear me out: sand sledding. It's just like regular sledding, but with sand instead of snow.

❤️🏜️Being the awesome badass he is, Gaara can use his magical sand powers to make sure that you both have maximum fun while minimizing injuries. It is so much safer than regular sledding, but still a blast!

❤️🏜️Naturally, afterwards it's time to head inside for a cold drink. Heat stroke is not fun!

❤️🏜️If you happen to be friends with Naruto (which is more than likely, let's be honest) and tell him about the trip, he'll demand to come along next time.

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nuked126 · 1 year

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Chapter 2 - Pon, The Sicilian Dragon!

Days have passed on our journey towards North City. Our heroes walk through the steep, snowy mountains, When suddenly this green bipedal dragon quickly descends in front of them, putting fear into Maze’s soul.

“Well, this is a nice surprise. I wasn’t expecting my food delivery to be so soon.” the dragon exclaims mockingly. The dragon shoots flames from his mouth that Cliver quickly wards off using his shield. Then he quickly rolls in front of him and slashes him with his sword. The dragon is faster though, and quickly away from reach. “Humph! The insolence! Do you even know who I am?!” The dragon exclaims. “Not really.” both of them say. “My name is Pon, I am one of the six Sicilian Dragons! Be grateful that your names will be added to my kill list.” The dragon shouts proudly. “But how would you know our names when we die?” Maze asks. “We are not going to die!” shouts Cliver at Maze.

Pon prepares to shoot his flames again, but as he sees that Cliver raises his shield, he quickly feints as he backflips to dive into Cliver. “I got you!” Pon says. He clashes fangs first into the shield and takes it off as he flies upward. “We don’t need this cumbersome thing getting in the way of your death.” he says as he rips the shield in half. Cliver and Maze gasp seeing this. “Let’s see you parry this then.” He begins heating his mouth, looking like a furnace that’s just been fed coal. Then suddenly, a bang is heard. It was Mace, who shot one Pon in the chest. He feels not only a sharp pain but also a great imbalance in his flying, which makes him fall into the ground face first. Cliver runs to execute him as Maze keeps his sights on him.

“Shit, I forgot the other guy was there. I could’ve stopped that bullet normally but he took me by surprise and I couldn’t protect against the blow. I only wanted to give them a good scare.”

“Wait, stop! I give up” Pon screams. “It’s a trap, don't listen to him,” Maze says. “If you keep me alive, I can help you.” Pon says, hurt. “How?” Asks Cliver. “You may have been able to defeat me, but there are a lot of dangerous things out there. You might benefit from some teaching to improve your strength and techniques. And I know someone that could teach you.” Pon pleads

The guys look at each other, and they sigh as they holster their weapons. “Fine.” Cliver says. Maze runs towards Pon to stop the bleeding using the medical kit he has in his backpack. Pon laughs. “You are too trusting” Pon snarks. “And you’re too arrogant for someone that’s just been shot.” Cliver replies.

Pon leads them through the mountains. “So, you're some type of dragon right? So that means you must be related to the Dragon balls.” Cliver says. “You can’t say that, it’s rude to make such generalizations!” Maze replies upset as he elbows Cliver on the arm. “The Sicilian Dragons are not directly related to the divine dragon shenron. However, My old man brought us into life in his image by the use of the Dragon Balls, as he was the sole survivor caused by a mass extinction we suffered” Pon replies. Maze pulls some beef jerky out and offers it to Pon. “Are you hungry?” He asks. Pon accepts it, a bit bewildered. “T-thanks.” Pon says to Maze. “So that means it’s true; the Dragon Balls can grant any wish.” Cliver thinks. “A lone survivor…I’m sorry to hear that, I understand how it feels to be isolated in such a way.” Maze says to Pon.

They Arrive at a cave and enter inside. The cave goes into a bridge as we find ourselves in a cozy home made of stone. With a portable TV, a sofa, and what it seems to be a stove and a fridge, currently being used by an older bluish green bipedal dragon. “I’m home.” Pon tells the other dragon. “Pon, Your constant disrespect towards my advice will lead you to getting hurt someday.” The dragon says disappointed in Pon. “And he did get hurt, he should probably listen to you more.” Cliver says sarcastically. The dragon turns around, seeing two humans in his house. Just from this image, he quickly assumes a fighting position as both of them raise their hands. “I understand that you’re not on good terms with humans, but we promise we don’t wish you any harm.” Cliver tells the dragon.

“Why are you humans here?” he determinedly asks while keeping his stance. “Pon told us that you could help us train us.” Maze replies. The dragon lowers his stance into a more comfortable one. “And why would you offer that, Pon?” He asks Pon with a cold stare. “Well…” Pon says. “Well I can’t tell him that I was trying to terrorize humans, he will have me doing heavy training for weeks!” he thinks while trying to come up with an answer. “You see, they saved my life! I was going outside when this dinosaur caught me by surprise. I could’ve been done if it wasn’t for these guys. I understand that I did wrong, and I’m willing to take 4 days of hard training as punishment.” Pon says bowing to the dragon as hard as he can. “You’re too reckless. You should not leave the cave unless it is something necessary, let alone if you’re unfocused to danger. You need to train more and concentrate on your senses.” The dragon says with a cold demeanor. “However, I’m glad that you’re ok thanks to these men. I’m sorry if I startled you, my instincts came first. Greetings, My name is King. I can sense that you have a kind heart.“ King says. “That’s ok, we understand. We are Maze and Cliver, please don’t write them on any list.” he says.” Maze says as he introduces himself. “you’re the old man who can train us?” Cliver asks. “Perhaps. I am a master of martials arts, and possibly one of the few that can understand the control of Ki. However, to master your ki, you need to train your body, your mind, and your spirit. I shall train you both alongside Pon'' King tells them.

An opportunity to reach greater power from an unlikely friendship has been given to our heroes that will help on their journey to collect the Dragon Balls.

Next Chapter

Previous chapter

#oc tag #my ocs #oc stuff #original character #creative writing #original writing #writing #dragon ball z #dragon ball #dbz #fanfic #Dragon Knights

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jamiceofcourse · 2 years

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Mango Tamarind Damiana agua fresca - loose recipe

1/3 cup Tamarind paste (guestimating like shit, when in actuality I eyeballed some chunks and dropped it in)

4-6 tablespoons of sugar, I started with 4 and added two more for my personal taste

1 mango blended with a little bit of water

1 lemon, juice

a small piece of ginger (length of your middle finger) skinned, chopped in big pieces

4 cups of water

2 and half table spoons of Damiana, dried leaves

2 cups of water (steeping Damiana)

procedure:

Boil 2 cups of water for steeping Damiana, I usually steep for hours so put on the 4-6 hours before desired drinking time. or overnight.

I filled up a medium saucepot with 1 cup of water (i believe).

Blended the bits of mango with some water and added to the pot

also added tamarind paste, lemon juice, and ginger, and sugar

bring to a boil and then let simmer for 30 minutes

take off heat and you can choose to blend the hot mixture, cool it and then blend or not blend at all.

add Damiana tea, rest of water, and mango-tamarind juice to desired container. stir. serve over ice or put to cool.*

*will update to let you know how it tastes the next day.

#loose recipes #mago #tamarind #agua frescas #agua fresca #recipes #drinks #by Jamice M #portfolio

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katoktm6 · 2 years

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June 18 Money Blowin’ in the Wind

We were sad to leave our Hostal Casa Baba oasis this morning, but off we went at 5:45…after I chugged a cafe con Lethe that I bought last night. Walked to the marina and sat down for 1/2 our cheese and tomato sandwich that we bough5 yesterday..a bit stale, but fuel. Then, of course, the first part of our half day hike was straight up to the top of a cliff. Sunrise and already sweating profusely. We opted (see photos) for the dangerous, rocky, steep coastal route rather than the route every man told us to take because of our packs which was I

An inland road route. Steps, stairs. Tree roots, rocks, steps stairs…etc..but the odd thing was today there was an abundance of runners, speed walkers, joggers…insane amounts. We called it “Sports mode” see why on Elyse’s blog post…it was so strange, and this went on for miles..as we were turtle pacing along…beautiful beautiful walk…a bit precarious but did well… Elyse says she felt like she was walking through mud for most of the day, and her speech sounded like she was eating mud…mumbling and not opening her lips…haha…

We walked for 5 hours to our lunch/beach stop. This was to be our end of hiking for the day..but in order to catch a bus, we had to hike into the city which was at least another 3 miles along a highwayish type road following the nice walking path under the mid day sun and heat. But first we had lunch on the beach. We decided that enough sandwiches, we needed protein. So Elyse got. Beautiful a press salad and added grilled chicken and I got my beloved grilled sardines..see before and after photos.

Walked to city to find bus station..it is Saturday and everything is closed in town and no people around…siesta time even on Saturday. Finally get to empty bus station, try to read schedule…unclear, but we think there is a bus to a town near where we are heading at 3:00…it is 2:00, I need a bathroom. We go to a backer where Elyse buys these beautiful bite sized desserts…see photos…I go to the bathroom….

Back to the bus station to dink around and wait…close hiking poles, change shoes and tie on bag, find change and mask for bus, look at map, basically dinking around…as Elyse had her “shit” in her hand counting change, she let go of her money and it started blowing around the train station….as she jumped up to grab the blowing bills, she dropped her credit card…knowing it wouldn’t blow, she scampered around under the bench and the platform gathering euros…then her credit card…I just watched in disbelief…omg

Bus comes 30 minutes late and we board ..but at the same moment my mask breaks and is dangling from my face. I clamp the nose and board…explaining to the bus driver our final destination…he was concerned for us, understandably…because we needed to connect to a different bus from ours, but we would have to wait for 1 or two more hours for a 14 minute trip. We get dropped off at bus station and the driver gets off the bus to show us the schedule and I have this understanding how we were doing. At the same time Man I was at the station asking if the bus went to where we were going, L’Estartit. It wasn’t..he had already called a taxi and offered to share it. We waited 20 minutes and hitched a ride to our hotel..talked the whole way with both our new friend and the taxi driver…

To hotel…it is fine, clean, old and worn, but only option available in town. Did our chores, walked around town and now drinking wine and ordering tapas at 2.50 each. Ordered sandwiches from the hotel so they will be ready when we check out. 22 km tomorrow no water or food the entire way our bags will be so heavy filled with food and water…what will I leave behind?

Walked by lots of tiny cove fishing villages today ❤️

Also, I learned of my no dogs react to me when I say “bueno Perro” because in the Catalonian language, dog is “gossa” not “perro”. More good dogs all day long. Beaches, jogging, swimming, walking..all good dogs…..

The photo of the square of water is the public was basin in the city center where we took the bus! In use…

Strange day..good day for me…unclear for the mud walker…

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uvobreakmylegs · 3 years

Text

Right Place, Right Time

wanted to write something with a little more humor in it but there’s still dark shit because phantom troupe

Warnings: mentions of death

“There's trouble, boss.”

Phinks' voice cut through the chatter of the busy casino. Chrollo didn't look up at first, relaying a few more instructions to Shalnark via text. 'Trouble' wasn't unexpected; as much as Chrollo could plan ahead, human nature could be unpredictable and would usually cause a few bumps in the road when it came to their heists.

“What sort of trouble?” Chrollo asked as he pocketed the cellphone.

“A Zoldyck.”

Ah.... That was a bit more trouble than usual.

Chrollo's gaze followed that of Phinks and Shizuku. Looking down at them from a second balcony stood Illumi, his face devoid of emotion as the black void within his eyes took in the group.

The second Chrollo made eye contact with him, Illumi gestured to his left with a sharp jerk of his head before walking off in the same direction.

“Does he want to fight away from the guests?” Shizuku asked.

“Maybe,” said Chrollo. He began to walk in the direction Illumi had gone, signaling for Shizuku and Phinks to follow. The three of them walked up one of the staircases located to the side. Phinks pulled on the collar of his suit every so often, while Shizuku walked slightly slower due to the heels that she wasn't used to wearing. But Chrollo could sense that the two were anticipating a fight (Phinks likely ready to use it as an excuse to get out of the fancy suit he hated so much).

“But it may not come to a fight with him,” Chrollo told them.

“Don't the Zoldycks hate us?” Phinks asked.

“Silva hates me specifically,” Chrollo corrected, “but Illumi can be reasoned with.”

Phinks snorted a bit at that, but didn't say anything else. Shizuku then asked what Silva Zoldyck had done to the troupe, to which Phinks gave a brief summary of the incident that had happened years prior. A very brief summary, but he knew there was no point in getting into details since Shizuku would forget almost immediately; this wasn't even the first time she had asked.

Perhaps he should have expected that one of the Zoldycks would be present – it was the opening night for this particular high-end gambling hall. But with how stingy the owner had been rumored to be, he would have thought that the price of a Zoldyck assassin as a security guard would have been more than she was willing to spend.

If it was Zeno or Silva there would be no chance of ending things amicably: Zeno was dedicated to his work and wouldn't be moved by a bribe or any words that Chrollo could offer. And Chrollo and Silva shared a very mutual hatred of one another, so a fight would have been inevitable in that case.

But Illumi, while also just as dedicated to his family as his father and grandfather, could be convinced to stand down if Chrollo could name a good enough price and ensure that the Zoldyck name wouldn't be tarnished in any way. The Zoldycks successfully completed every job they took on, but they couldn't be held accountable if their client terminated the contract before they could complete it. It had happened once before, in an instance where a man had hired Illumi to assassinate Pakunoda. Illumi agreed to hold off on going through with the hit for a short while in exchange for twice the amount the man had paid him for and to allow the troupe the time needed to get to the client and release him from the contract.

Though it would be nicer to just get to Illumi's client and kill her off, there was no chance Illumi would allow them to do that while still under his contract. And Illumi would be happier if he was able to leave with twice the amount of jenny he had been promised.

Illumi was waiting at the end of a hall that had fewer people in it, pointedly looking at him before entering into what looked to be a darkened room. Chrollo pulled out his phone to text an order for the troupe to wait as he spoke to Phinks and Shizuku.

“You two wait out here,” he ordered.

Phinks looked as though he wanted to question him on that, but he held his tongue, crossing his arms as he gave a sharp nod in acknowledgment. If Shizuku felt that his actions were questionable, she didn't betray that fact to him.

Leaving the two of them behind, Chrollo made his way to the door Illumi had entered and pulled it open.

This room was darker than the rest of the casino, and without the electric lights that brightened the building and the bodies of the customers that increased the temperature with their own body heat, it was much cooler in the room as well.

It took a few moments for his eyes to adjust to the lack of light, but when they did, he saw that Illumi was leaning against a smaller circular table, toying with one of his needles as he watched Chrollo enter.

“I thought you didn't like the body-guarding jobs,” Chrollo said as the door behind him slowly swung shut.

“I owed my brother for his assistance on my last assignment,” Illumi explained, “so I'm filling in for him.”

Chrollo nodded, though he didn't particularly care all that much. Whatever the reason, the presence of a Zoldyck would hinder things. Best to get straight to the point.

“How much are you being paid for this job?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi's eyebrows raised slightly.

“You think you can pay me off?”

“It worked once before.”

“So it did,” Illumi conceded, “but it would start to look suspicious if I accepted your offer too many times, no? It would be a problem if people thought the Zoldycks could be bought out. Our reputation is everything.”

“Well, you can't help it if your client decides that your services aren't needed and lets you go, now can you?”

“Another inexplicable 'termination' with a job that involved the Phantom Troupe?” Illumi asked, “father was annoyed that I did that last time, though he was more annoyed that I took the job in the first place.”

Illumi sighed.

“But again, doing that too often would look strange, and I will not do anything to harm our business reputation.”

“Very few people knew about the previous hit on Pakunoda,” said Chrollo, “there would be few who would notice a particular pattern, and I think the two of us are both inclined to avoid an unnecessary fight if possible.”

“True. Killing you and the rest of your group would take some time. And it wouldn't be worth the amount that woman is offering. Really, she's low-balling us. I don't know what Milluki was thinking when he took this job. Didn't even make her pay upfront.”

“Then we can come to an agreement?” Chrollo asked.

Illumi closed his eyes in thought, his fingers still twirling around that needle. He was considering it.

Chrollo waited in silence. Trying to push Illumi to do one thing was unproductive and could possibly make him decide to fight after all, though he was certain that Illumi was already willing to take him up on the offer since the assassin hadn't sent his needles flying the second Chrollo walked in. Pulling out his phone, Chrollo checked the time: 8:54 PM. He had planned for this particular operation to begin at 9:15. The owner was part of a group that had begun to throttle the livelihood of Meteor City, and tonight she was the host of a party for that group that was taking place in the upper floors while celebrating the successful opening night of her casino. The main purpose was to send a message: kill the group and anyone else in the building so the rest of the world knew not to interfere with the business of his Meteor City. Whatever valuables they collected would just be bonuses for the troupe to divide amongst themselves.

Though Chrollo rarely went back to the city these days, it was beneficial for him if the city still existed. And though he would never admit it out loud, there was of that sentimental feeling of wanting to protect his old home, as harsh and cruel as it had been for him growing up.

Illumi opened his eyes and looked to Chrollo.

“3 billion and I'll leave.”

“That's quite a lot,” said Chrollo, “much more than I paid last time. Why such a steep increase?”

“So it's worth my while.”

Chrollo mulled it for a bit, checking his phone again: 8:57. He certainly had the funds to pay Illumi's price, but it did feel like he was being somewhat taken advantage of in this case. Still keeping an eye on Illumi, Chrollo couldn't help but notice that the assassin seemed to have something else on his mind that he was considering. Then, like he had come to a decision, he sat up a bit straighter as he addressed Chrollo again.

“There's one more thing,” Illumi said.

“Something more than 3 billion jenny, Illumi?”

“Just some time; give me four minutes before you start.”

Chrollo hummed. Illumi didn't need that much time to vacate a building like this. Was it an attempt to set some kind of trap? No, that was unlikely. It would be far too obvious and Illumi wouldn't go to such lengths unless he was being paid to do so. Still, he couldn't help but be a little curious as to what Illumi would need that time for.

“Why four minutes?”

“Personal reasons.”

Ah. He should have sensed something like that would be the answer.

“A lot can happen in even a single minute, Illumi. And you want four?”

“Four minutes is unreasonable?”

“Not enough to end this deal, but I may want you to lower your price a bit.”

“Are you trying to haggle with me?”

Illumi frowned a little when Chrollo smiled at him.

“Maybe just by 60 million or so,” Chrollo said.

“So you'd rather pay two billion, nine hundred and forty million?” Illumi asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It's still more than you'll get if you keep your current contract, correct?”

Chrollo saw the corners of Illumi's mouth turn upwards ever so slightly, a small smirk on his face as he closed his eyes again and considered the offer.

“That's true. Even taking that out I'd still be much better off.”

Chrollo checked the time and found it to be 9:01 PM. If Illumi came to a decision soon the troupe's operation could still go as planned.

“Very well,” Illumi said after a moment of thought, “transfer me the money first.”

With a nod, Chrollo accessed one of his bank accounts through his phone, bringing up the necessary amount and transferring it to the account number Illumi gave him. Within a few minutes, the transaction was completed. Illumi seemed rather pleased with himself, Chrollo noted.

“Perhaps you should stay in here for a moment,” Chrollo said, “Shalnark is upstairs. I can order him to take control of the owner and have her officially fire you. Then there won't be any issues with your family, correct?”

“That won't be necessary,” Illumi answered.

“Oh?”

“I got fired before you got here.”

“..... Excuse me?”

There was a flat tone to Chrollo's voice that made Illumi chuckle as the latter continued “that woman felt like she was wasting her money, but she was pressured to hire one of the Zoldycks at the behest of her guests. Seems to me like she was looking for an excuse to get out of paying the full fee. Apparently I was 'unprofessional'. But I'm glad I caught sight of you, otherwise this evening would have been more of a loss for me.”

Chrollo said nothing at first. Illumi had been careful with his wording, Chrollo realized, and it hadn't occurred to him to ask if Illumi was still under contract.

The funds weren't that important to Chrollo, but he couldn't help but feel rather miffed. Had he known that the assassin was currently out of a job, there wouldn't have been a reason to pay a higher price than normal; Illumi would have been left between going home empty-handed or with whatever Chrollo would have been willing to give him.

But then again, how could he have anticipated that a Zoldyck would have gotten fired?

Realizing that he had been played, Chrollo checked his phone again: 9:07. At least they'd still be able to start on time.

“Your four minutes start now,” he said.

Nodding, Illumi stood from where he'd been leaning against the table. He made his way through the room, past Chrollo and to the door that lead to the hall where Phinks and Shizuku waited.

“Perhaps you could humor me,” Chrollo said as he walked by, “it shouldn't take you four minutes to exit a place like this. What exactly are those personal reasons?”

Illumi chuckled a bit as he placed his hand on the knob.

“I suppose you can see for yourself if you decide to watch me leave.”

With that, Illumi left, the door swinging shut.

Standing alone in the dark room, Chrollo wasn't sure what to make of Illumi's behavior. He was used to the assassin being more straight-forward. He was secretive, yes, but there was something about the way he had acted just now that seemed a bit more.... Playful.

Illumi and Hisoka had known each other before Chrollo had met the long-haired man, and the two had seemed like they were in frequent contact. Perhaps, Chrollo mused, some of Hisoka's less-than-ideal qualities were rubbing off on Illumi.

Phinks and Shizuku approached him immediately after he also exited the room.

“It looked like he was leaving,” Shizuku said, “were you able to talk him down?”

“Yes. It was more expensive than it needed to be, but he'll be leaving shortly,” Chrollo answered as he nodded at her.

“He required four minutes before we began, so we'll be able to stay on schedule,” he continued as he looked at his phone again. 9:08.

The two spiders nodded (though Phinks seemed somewhat disappointed to not have a chance to fight Illumi) and Chrollo updated the rest of the troupe. The three of them slowly began to walk back to the main hall before coming to a stop at one of the balcony's. Below them the crowd had only managed to have grow larger as more people had entered to try their luck in the new gambling hall. For the majority of the crowd it seemed to be more of a pastime as they looked more well-to-do, but there were a few individuals who already appeared to be reaching a point of desperation, sweating nervously while they looked to the indifferent dealers.

A grand clock at the top of the hall showed the time to be nearing 9:10, and they had yet to see Illumi leave the building.

“Why did he want four minutes?” Shizuku asked.

“He wouldn't say,” Chrollo answered her.

“Hm. I wonder what it was,” Shizuku said.

“It seems he wanted to collect some woman before we got started,” Phinks suddenly said.

“Huh?”

Both Chrollo and Shizuku looked to where Phinks was looking. Within the crowd they saw Illumi walking through, accompanied by you. He held your hand as he lead you through the throng of guests, and you were giggling at something he had said while you intertwined your fingers with his. Illumi smiled back at you as he continued to pull you forward.

It was not a sight Chrollo had anticipated, nor was he expecting to see the darkened marks on your neck when he squinted. Marks that could've been made by Illumi's mouth.

Remembering that Illumi had said he'd been terminated for being unprofessional, and suddenly the reason for his firing became clear.

“That's just a civilian, right?” Phinks asked, “what does he want with her?”

“I guess he doesn't want to leave her here to die,” said Shizuku, “that's sweet.”

Chrollo continued to watch as the two of you made it to the other end of the hall. When you were finally out of the crowd, you went to wrap your arm around the one that had been leading you, smiling up at him as you two continued your way to the entrance. There weren't many who could touch one of the Zoldycks like that and live to tell the tale. Phinks was most likely right in his assessment; you weren't anything special. You probably had no idea who the person was that you were so happily walking off with or how dangerous he was.

Illumi said something and smiled at you before the two of you began walking again, but Chrollo didn't miss the little warning glance the assassin had sent in his direction.

As Shizuku and Phinks talked amongst themselves on what all that was about, Chrollo found himself unsure of what to think of this particular turn of events.

Evidently to Illumi, you were worth at least 60 million jenny.

You had come to this event on behalf of your friend Kiki, who had been invited by her cousin who had wanted to spend a milestone birthday at the casino. Places like this had never done much for you; the odds were always stacked in favor of the house and you didn't want to lose your hard-earned cash by gambling it away. You only came to do a favor for your friend, and yet about an hour into the evening, she had left you to chat up someone at the bar, leaving you with a group of people you only vaguely knew in an even bigger sea of strangers. Most ignored you, but there was the occasional middle-aged man who would eye you up and make you feel uncomfortable enough that you felt like you needed to leave the general area.

And then you ran into him.

The handsome man with long black hair and dark eyes who'd been walking about. He caught your attention like he'd caught the attention of most of the people around him, though they had seemed more content to watch him and gossip about him from afar. Maybe it was because no one else was going for it, maybe it was because you were slightly jealous that Kiki had managed to find an actual date for the night, or maybe you were just tired of the gross older men that kept ogling you and you wanted to be able to enjoy yourself with someone that you were actually in to. Regardless of whatever it was that made you do it, you approached the man and asked if he wanted to get a drink with you.

He hadn't wanted any drinks, but your boldness had impressed him enough that he wanted to talk with you. In private. Leading you away from the crowd and noise, he took you to a staff-only hallway where he introduced himself as Illumi. You introduced yourself to him, and the two of you managed to hit it off, having a lengthy conversation that ended when he kissed you suddenly. It seemed like something that had been spur-of-the-moment for him, and he pulled away from you to ask if you had liked it. Your answer was to pull him back onto your lips.

Your make-out session had culminated in him pushing you against the wall while he sucked hickeys into the skin of your neck.

And then you got caught.

You were expecting that you'd both get kicked out, but Illumi had been asked to accompany some of the casino staff while you were taken back to the main hall. Being that they were more concerned about Illumi, they left you there while you tried to hide the marks Illumi had left behind. You hadn't been sure if you would see him again; you didn't realize that he'd been working for the casino, and you were worried that you had cost him his job.

So it was unexpected when he appeared before you and asked you to leave with him.

But you said 'yes' without any hesitation.

You slid into the backseat of the car that had pulled up, Illumi coming in after you.

“The Palazzo,” Illumi instructed the driver.

Wait....

“Isn't that the really expensive hotel on the riverfront?” you asked Illumi.

“Yes. I've been staying there,” he answered.

You were amazed that he had the cash to be able to stay at a place like that. Then worry hit you.

“I got you fired, didn't I? Are you sure that isn't an issue?”

With that same small smile you had seen several times now since he'd opened up to you, Illumi smiled back at you.

“I got a better payout leaving like I did than if I had stayed. So don't worry, there's no issue.”

That eased your worries a bit, and you settled yourself into the seat as the car began to pull forward. You glanced back at the illuminated casino as you drove off, and another pang of guilt hit you.

“What's wrong?” Illumi asked.

“I left my friend without telling her anything,” you said as you pulled out your phone, “I should text her about where I'm going.”

“Mm. Yes, that would be a good idea.”

Illumi's tone was always rather flat, so you didn't notice that he seemed slightly displeased as you messaged Kiki to let her know you had left. It seemed like she'd found her own date, so hopefully she wouldn't be too mad at you. It wasn't like she'd been left alone.

The instant you hit 'send', you turned your attention back to Illumi.

“Think she'll get it in time? The reception was a little spotty in some places,” you said.

“It was fine, but don't worry about that.”

With that, Illumi pulled you into his lap while you yelped. You wanted to protest, seeing as you two were in a moving vehicle and the driver could tell what the two of you were doing. Illumi held you securely, however, and when you looked to the front of the car, you found that a sheet of tinted glass now separated the front from the back. The driver must have been able to read the mood.

“Don't worry about what's going on back there,” Illumi told you, “from this point on, all I want for you to focus on is me.”

His order made you blush, and you shyly answered with an “okay” before his lips were on you.

The casino and the people inside it were the last things on your mind that night.

#yandere x reader #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #yandere #yandere hxh #yandere illumi #chrollo lucilfer #reader insert #yandere hunter x hunter #chrollo gets scammed #hope its not too dumb

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janaem · 3 years

Text

tension

this is a mature scenario

requests are also open, go to my pinned post to learn more :)

(c/f) ;; crush’s friend

(y/f) - your friend

r/n - restaurant name

“___”- you or your crush’s name

[8:00 pm]

you looked out the open window feeling the breeze on your face. you closed your eyes and laughed at the ticklish feeling as you tilted your head back.

your friend, ___, was the one behind the wheel, chatting with your crush's friend, ___. the four of you decided to escape from reality for a while and just aimlessly drive around for a while. what a calming way to spend a summer night, you've longed to go on adventures like this. and the music in the background was absolutely perfect.

"i'm hungry." your crush said slightly slouching in his seat which was next to yours, his legs spread a bit. it was kind of awkward being in the backseat with him, considering the fact that the two of you only exchanged one short conversation.

you and your friend ___, were originally going to hang out together, but since they grew more fond of your crush's friend, they insisted on picking the two of them up.

"let's go somewhere that has a drive thru." you said closing the car window.

"oh, i was told that i can't eat food in this car." you friend replied looking around for places to eat.

"wait, why?" c/f asked, sitting up in their seat.

y/f sighed, keeping their eye out for any nearby places, "this is a new car, just got this two days ago."

c/f nodded, "so...do we just dine in?"

"or we could order pick up and eat outside the car by the lake or something." you imputed googling some restaurants near you.

"yeah, that's a good idea." ___ said turning his head to look right at you. it shouldn't be a surprise, but you felt your body slightly tense up and start to feel warm as you scrolled through the various options on your screen.

a few places caught your eye, and you started listing them.

"oooh i think that r/n is a perfect spot to get pick up!" c/f announced.

y/f nodded, "yeah, ___, what do you think?" they asked looking at the two of you in the back seat through the rearview mirror.

you absently nodded, scrolling through social media, your crush said yes.

"you two have been awfully quiet" c/f pointed out turning their body halfway to look at the two of you in the back seat.

"they're heavy on the sexual tension." y/f added making the frat boy face.

"bro..." your crush sighed in annoyance. you looked over at him, he immediately caught your gaze and you instantly looked away, pretending to scroll on your phone.

"guys, if you like each other just say that. It's so obvious." y/f suggested turning the corner, you were 2 minutes away from your destination, since it was a place pretty close by.

"we have more important things to worry about, like our orders for the food." you shot back looking up from your phone.

"and what we'll be having for dessert, isn't that right, ___?" c/f glanced at ___, them a wink.

"dude, shut up." ___ said dismissively, you felt your body become tense again. you looked over at ___, as he rested his elbow by the window, leaning his cheek into the palm of his hand. you only squeezed your legs tighter, why the fuck did they look so fine being careless? you looked at his legs, you honestly just wanted to sit on his lap and make out with him without a care in the world.

the throbbing down there suddenly caught you off guard, "can you guys stop, seriously. we don't like each other, it was just sudden that y/f decided to pick you two up. let it go." you sighed shifting uncomfortably in your seat, crossing your legs together. ___ saw this and raised their eyebrows. however, you refused to look at him again for the rest of the ride.

"shut your horny ass up, we know that's not true." c/f teased turning back around to face straight ahead. you just wanted to beat the shit out of this motherfucker with no mercy.

"we'll order inside, it's late and the line shouldn't be long at all." y/f sighed, ignoring the previous conversation that just took place.

"but, that doesn't make sense, we'll have to wait even longer for the food now." ____ imputed.

you adjusted yourself in your seat, taking a breath, "not if we call them now."

"we have one more minute until we arrive, it's pointless." y/f replied looking at the gps.

"that's plenty of time, just tell me what you guys want, and if we arrive sooner than expected, we can just park and finish our order." you said dialing in the number.

everyone else agreed, so you called r/n and told them your orders. you arrived just in time once you finished and hung up.

"see told ya." you smirked putting your phone down.

"c/f and i will go in to pick up the orders." y/f said unbuckling their seatbelt along with c/f.

"uhh...can i come?" __ asked sitting up a bit, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"no, you stay here with ___." c/f replied opening the car door and steeping, causing him to huff under his breath.

"they said it'll take 15 minutes. why can't y'all stay here until it's ready?" you argued furrowing your eyebrows.

"i don't know why you're complaining, you get some alone time with your boyfriend." y/f smiled as they exited the car, and before you could say anything else the door slammed shut.

the silence was way to loud in the backseat of the car, you held your phone firmly in your hands, fighting the urge to look at ___, who was on his phone. what were you thinking? he's not even thinking about you right now, so why bother...

you finally decided to break the silence after a while, "you know, you don't have to listen to c/f and y/f... you can just go in if you want to." you immediately regretted saying that, you hoped deep down that he wouldn't leave you.

"nah, i'm fine right here." ___ replied, scrolling through his phone mindlessly.

you nodded and went on your phone as well, texting someone to save the awkwardness.

suddenly, ___ scoots next to you, still looking down at his phone. you furrowed your eyebrows at the move. why was he doing this?

"Uhh..." you leaned towards the window, your heart started to race uncontrollably and the adrenaline in your body started to rise.

___ sighed, getting comfortable, "shut up, i got cold."

you gave him a skeptical look, "it's literally seventy nine degrees out, and you're wearing a hoodie and sweatpants."

"just shut up, okay?" ___ sighed, he was seated at least an inch away from you.

"you're so fucking weird." you muttered.

"i'll show you weird if you don't shut the fuck up and sit still."

this moment was making you heated, your face started to get hot and you ached with anticipation to either say something rude, or bold. maybe say both? you honestly didn't know what to do, and the throbbing down on your core started to intensify and it only made matters worse.

"and how the hell are you gonna do that, ___? right i though so, so move back to your fucking seat or i'll make you."

yeah, you shouldn't have said that.

"fuck." you whispered to yourself, your gaze on ___ softened due to realizing what you've just done.

"oh yeah?" ___ gave you a lazy smirk, slightly tilting his head back to show a bit of his adam's apple.

you didn't say anything after that, that was until you felt ___ knee on yours. that was when your stomach clenched.

"how are you gonna make me move acting like this, huh?" he scooted closer so that both of your shoulders were touching. you still remained silent, watching closely as ___'s hand reached down, gripped your thigh, and moved it on top of his leg. the throbbing intensified, you became even hotter than ever, and your heart raced at an astronomical pace. you don't think you were able to handle it any longer. one more move from him and you were sure to break.

he leaned over, his face inches from yours, "not so tough now, are we?"

fuck it.

you cupped ___'s face with both of your hands and collided your lips onto his. he leaned in so that he was slightly on top of you, causing you to lean back, the seatbelt restricting you to go any further. luckily, while kissing you, ___ reached back and undid the buckle with his one hand.

you were now able to lean back, your head rested on the window, allowing ___ to settle between your legs. your back arched at the feeling of his hand trailing up your thigh, his thumb brushing over your clit. his other hand, trailed up under your sweatshirt, squeezing your waist.

you both parted, ___ looked into your eyes, "is this okay?" he continued to faintly rub his thumb faintly over your sensitive area.

"yeah..." you panted ,leaning in and kissing him again. the feeling of his hands on your bare skin, and his other hand on the very spot you've always wanted him was overwhelming.

___ slid his hand into your pants, using his middle finger to slide up and down to toy with your covered area. your breathing started to get heavier as you bucked your hips to meet his finger.

"does this feel good?" ___ asked placing a kiss on your jaw.

you were melting under his touch, "yeah..." you quivered, suddenly hissing once you felt ___ add a few more fingers and rubbing circles on your clit. his other hand, which was originally on your waist, slowly snaked up to fondle your breast.

"___...oh my--" you let out a gasp feeling him go a bit faster. the wetness started to build up on your core, a shockwave of pleasure erupts within you.

you two went at it again with the kissing, ___ slipped his tongue into your mouth, resulting in the kiss to become sloppier than before. ___ also took the opportunity to pull your underwear down, proceeding the act of rubbing your core. he let out a small hum in ecstasy, feeling how warm you were.

"fuck, you drive me crazy, ___" he groaned in between kisses, "you're so wet, too"

you simply couldn't talk, the feeling in your stomach built up every few seconds. you parted from ___ to let out a whimper, biting your lip and rolling your eyes back. you arched again at the feeling of his hand toying with your breast. unfortunately, he stopped and placed his hand from your breast to your back. ___ then started to place kisses on your jaw and neck, you closed your eyes in pleasure, feeling every inch of him touching you, you didn't want him to stop no matter what.

___ stopped kissing you after a while, and took a good look at you. he couldn't take his eyes off of you beautiful expression. he didn't think he would make you feel this way, and it filled him with pride that he is. he looked from your parted lips, to your heaving chest. just looking at you drove him to the edge, he'll never know how and why you were so breathtaking, especially in this state.

your eyes opened slightly, seeing that ___ was staring at you, a series of moans and whimpers continued to come out of you.

you started to squirm, and he liked that. so he went faster, assuming that you were about to reach your high.

"you like that, huh?" he whispered against your lips as he continued to rub his fingers on your clit. the overwhelming feeling that sent shockwaves through your core began to build up more and more the harder and faster he rubbed.

"oh my god..." you sighed, rolling your eyes back in relief. your back arched feeling the sudden wave of pleasure, which was stronger than the last. it was all so unexplainable, all you knew is that you felt so good.

___ placed a slow kiss on your lips, pulling away once you let out another moan. he chuckled and went faster. and the faster he went, the more frequent your whimpers became. you never really admitted it, but you enjoyed the build up before a good orgasm. and it would seem that___ knew just how to maintain this feeling inside you. it was almost hard to believe that this was his first time touching you.

___ moved his hand from your back, to the window to support himself, leaning into you more. all you could do was pant, feeling your abdominal muscles clench, the feeling of pleasure was even greater, allowing your mouth to fall open.

___'s hand started to flex, "you gonna cum for me?" he said going faster than before, "yeah?" he gripped your waist even tighter, watching your expression intensely. ___ wanted to make sure that you felt everything.

"oh fuck, yes." you moaned, looking up at the ceiling. all you were focused on, were ___'s fingers and the intense release you were having.

"you look so hot cuming for me." ___ said, your foreheads were inches away.

you couldn't respond, the orgasm you just had had taken it's toll on you. your legs shook a bit as you rode out your last high. small sighs and pants escaped your lips, the very same lips that your crush leaned over and placed a kiss on.

you kissed back and your crush pulls your bottoms back up, the feeling of the fabric touching your sensitive area made you squirm a bit.

"i made you cum that hard?" ___ teased, giving you a smirk.

"yeah ..." you said slyly, wrapping your arms around his neck. you tangled your fingers into his hair, taking in how beautiful his eyes were. your infatuation for each other grew just then, and the two of you leaned in and kissed each other again.

suddenly, the car door opened and in entered your two chatty friends. they were so caught up in their conversation that both you and ___ took this time to immediately get situated again.___ slid all the way back to his original spot as you got out your phone and started typing and scrolling.

"damn, it's hot in here..." y/f said starting the car again and turning on the air conditioning.

"Yeah," c/f looked suspiciously at you and ___, "y'all fucked or sum?"

"i'd rather die." you said bluntly, not looking up from your phone. ___ just let out an indifferent grunt.

"well, anyways, to the lake we go! i'm starving." y/f announced reversing out of the parking lot.

#crush x reader #crush imagines #crush scenarios #boy x girl #mature #crush series

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ncitygirls · 3 years

Text

dance - jeno x f reader

fluff, smut, 2.1k

jeno knows it’s bad, but he can’t help but reminisce on how this all began. he likes to torture himself by reliving the first night over and over. it always starts with the drunken taunts from his teammates, sullied further by his dismissal. ‘no way,’ he’d said. ‘i can’t go there.’ he remembers seeing your roommates hyping you up, followed closely by your misguided steps. even after his earlier reluctance, he still regrets not beating you to the jump, his friends’ clearing their throats, trying to act natural as you approached their booth.

he hated the setting: a grotty sports bar a town over from his college campus. it sold stale, cheap beer, triple vodka sours and served well past three am. this may not sound like the typical start to a love story, but it was a start all the same.

‘do you wanna dance?’ you asked in a painfully small voice, your emboldened strut paling in complete contrast to your timid yet gleaming gaze. jeno still can’t say where he found the courage to agree, but agree he did, nodding behind his beer before following you up to the sticky floor. somewhere along the way you had taken his hand in yours, in fear of losing him in the sea of sweaty bodies. in the musty wave of noughties hits with tacky modern spins, jeno managed to lose himself anyway. he hadn’t a clue where to put his hands, his eyes searching yours as you giggled up at him, cooing at his bewilderment.

so you led. placing his hand on your exposed waist, your top riding up as it hugged the skin beneath your rib. he felt you shiver under his touch, his fingers clenching minutely at the feeling. ‘is this okay?’ he’d yelled, though it came through as more of a whisper under the music. you didn’t respond, instead reaching for his other hand, squeezing it over the denim on your hip. jeno was spinning. not from dancing, and not from the amount he’d drank. he knew it wasn’t down to that, nor the dizzying motion of the lights, the thickness of the air or the pounding of the music. jeno knew it was you. your chest pressed flush to his, your eyes boring into his. he didn’t know when you’d started swaying, his body leaning, moving in time with the music and the others on the floor. he could hear the songs changing, feel the bass beneath his feet. there wasn’t much he could do but enjoy it.

much like he still does. as he drags you close to him, the rosie organza pleated around your chest pressed right up to his satin lapel. his confidence then pales in comparison to now. it only took a few months to see the change, one you nurtured in all the ways a man like jeno needed. in soft assurances and gentle praise. in delicate touches and the softest embraces. in ardent exchanges and steamy quickies.

but the trouble began this past winter. well, technically well before. as a child, jeno had spent his summers visiting his cousin jaemin in his hometown from before he could remember. there the two had fortified a friendship, a real brotherhood that jeno never would have gotten to experience without being cast away to the country every solstice. it was there he met his cousin’s neighbour, mark lee. mark lee, a kind kid with wide eyes and a wider smile, was the kind of kid everyone looked up to. he embodied what jeno typically thought to be an older brother. and he was. to his step sister and cousins, to kids in his neighbourhood, to jeno’s cousin jaemin and eventually to jeno. it’s why, this christmas just gone, when mark had approached jeno, with giddy eyes and a giddier smile, to ask him to be one of his groomsmen - not just due to the refusal of a painfully introverted jaemin - but because of a genuine brotherhood formed between the two, jeno’s big hearted self could not refuse.. bringing us back to where the trouble began.

‘so, are you bringing her to the wedding?’ mark questioned suddenly, his arm pushing through the sleeve of his tux. ‘you definitely shou- it’s a bit tight at the elbow, can you see?’

jeno still curses jaemin for opting out of being a groomsman, leaving jeno to deal with the trivialities of wedding prep. not that he has a real problem with it all. it’s just a fitting, he thought as he walked in, his eyes landing on the black silk hanging off the changing room door. it wasn’t until he realised it was just he and mark - the rest of the groomsmen opting to come on a later date - that he was regretting the decision. because even though no one would admit it to his face, mark was a bit of a groomzilla. less for the usual reasons. he wasn’t rude, short or angered by little inconveniences. he was just a man of superstition, faith, and insurmountable dubiety. he wanted everything to be perfect. he wanted to do as much of his part as he could for his wedding day. jeno thinks his fiancée had been right to leave him the task of the guest list. mark easily knew more people, so was naturally inundated with acquaintances. it was a great idea, jeno thought.. until mark kept- on- pushing- ‘i’ll even relieve you of your duties early, let you go off with her-’

‘thanks man,’ the younger tried, watching the tailor pinch the jacket at his waist. ‘but really, i don’t think i will. i’ll just bring my mom or something.’

‘your mom’s already invited man, you know that.’ jeno huffed at that. of course she is. mark did take his duties seriously after all. ‘couldn’t have her going off on me like jaemin did-’

‘are you comparing my mom to jaemin?’

‘i’m just saying-’ mark paused to thank the attendant, slipping back out of his jacket as he walked up to jeno, squeezing his shoulder. ‘you’ve got nothing to be nervous about, jen. you’re like a brother to me. you should bring her, i’d love to meet her.’

jeno flinches just thinking about it, his spine straightening as mark turned to him fully. jeno manages a shrug, turning back to the mirror just for a second before deciding that, no. no, it wouldn’t be a good idea to introduce his girl to his best friend on his wedding day.

because the issue wasn’t that he wouldn’t invite you.

‘you met her at college, right?’

the issue was that he couldn’t.

‘maybe y/n knows her?’

the issue is that you’re already going.

‘you know what my sister’s like, she gets on with everyone.’

“jen?” you pant, his name falling off your tongue as he bounces you quickly in his lap. “come back to me.” he smiles at your sweet call, your teeth catching his lip between them before slipping your tongue into his mouth.

the ceremony starts in ten minutes, though guests are still pouring into the church. it’s what actually convinced him. that and you, your manicured hand stuffing your damp panties into the pocket of his fitted tux. it had been his undoing, your sweeping frame gliding into a small side door a few feet from the altar.

the clock is ticking but you pay it no mind, your hips halting their rise and fall as you dig your heels into the masoned floor, grinding your hips back and forth as you ride him. you feel his nails dig painfully into your skin, his tongue wrapping around yours, swallowing your gasps as his other hand gathers your dress, the layers of delicate organza billowing over his knee. when your nails find his nape, careful not to mess up his perfectly styled do, you suck on his ear lobe, forcing him to thrust up into you.

“fuck-”

“shh!” you hiss, rushing to stuff the same panties you gifted him in his mouth. you hear his muffled groans, his cheeks hollowing as he sucks the essence of you onto his waiting tongue. he feels you clench harder around him, his eyes smiling in place of his occupied lips. he lifts a brow when your rocking falters, your eyes darting around his perfect face, incapable of taking in anything but him and how he makes you feel. there’s a question in his gaze, forcing your head to bob. “yeah- i’m close-”

he abandons your dress then, letting the material pool around you two as he presses his palm to your neck, bringing your mouth to his. it’s a quick and steep descent to your release, your thighs burning as he slams you up and down on his cock, your skin clapping against his as he abandons all reason. he’s kept it quiet for so long, at times he thinks it might consume him from the inside out, all this love he has for you. all jeno really wants is to scream it out from the highest mountain top, tattoo it to his forehead, paint it on the fucking moon. hell, he would pay anyone to listen. he didn’t care who. he’d tell anyone who’d listen that he, lee jeno, was in love with y/n y/l/n.

“i love you too,” you almost cry, jaw unhinged as you feel the effects of his thrusts and affection rip through you. it spreads through you like wildfire, setting every nerve in you alight before it finally consumes him. your heat pumps and pushes him past his release, his heavy load pouring out into you. you milk him through it, your temple pressed to the crown of his head.

it’s the church bells that rip you apart, your whole body cringing as realisation hits. you cringe further as his flushed face fills your vision, his hands gathering your dress again before further staining your panties as he wipes between your legs. “don’t look at me like that.”

“like what?”

“like it’s worse for you than it is for me.” you’re about to ask how when he moves away from you, closing his eyes as he wraps it up before shoving it back in his pocket. “i said don’t.”

“fine, i won’t-” your surrender is cut short when knuckles strike the door three times, jaemin’s sign to wrap it up. “shit, let’s go-” you try to leave but can’t. because suddenly he’s stopping you, his warm hand loosely wrapped around your wrist.

“let’s tell him.”

“tell who what-”

“mark.” jeno used to hate acknowledging the striking similarities between you and your step brother. much like the unwon battle of the chicken and the egg: which came first? which of you taught the other that when your eyes enlarge, rounding into porcelain saucers, two full moons nearly eclipsing him, that he’d give you anything?

“today?” when he nods, you want to laugh. but he looks so confident. so sure. “jen, are you sure?”

“i am,” his affirmation makes your heart swell, even before he continues. “i’m sure about you.”

he knows where your uncertainties lie. but you affirm it too. “i’m sure about you too.” you both seem to forget the wedding in that moment, both neglecting the importance of your bridal party roles in favour of basking in one another for even a second longer. “only if you save me a dance?”

“always.” so much so, you don’t register the sound of the confessional door swinging open when jeno leans in to kiss to your forehead, his bitten lips pressing to the skin as his eyes land on a pair not too dissimilar to the ones he’d just poured his heart out to.

mark seems to short circuit for a second that seems to last hours. “mom’s looking for you,” he announces, spluttering around the words as you immediately grab jeno by the hand and drag him out the confessional. you both duck your heads as you shuffle past jaemin, who looks beyond pissed you didn’t heed his earlier warning.

when you both disappear, your brother turns on jaemin, eyes wide as full moons. “you knew!” it only angers him more when jaemin nods, unflinching when mark starts slapping his arm. “he told you and you didn’t tell me?”

“nuh-uh,” the younger defends, straightening out the groom’s lapel as he reverently shuts the confessional door. “i figured it out.” mark looks bewildered at the notion it had been so obvious. jaemin has to remind himself it’s mark’s day and not to be too harsh. “come on, hyung. he wouldn’t tell us her name, wouldn’t let us meet her.” mark still looks stunned. “don’t get me started on how many times they pulled this shit last christmas-”

and to think. it all started with a dance.

#jeno #nct jeno #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct smut #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #jeno fluff #jeno smut #nct au #ncitygirls

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hpalways · 3 years

Text

Radiating || Albedo

SNOW was very pretty, light to the touch and made of a color so pure that it was almost unbelievable. However, it was a double edge sword, for its beauty came with a price. It was dangerous. As an aspect of nature, a touch of it could freeze a human to death if there was no heat source available, or the slip of ice beneath the fluffy matter could cause a steep fall. This came from experience and a trusted source: you. Because you were currently struggling with the exact problem.

"Shit!" you exclaimed, losing your balance from the black ice beneath your soles. Skidding through the surfaces, you clumsily held your hands out in case you were to bump into anything. Bumping into something, you did... but it was in the least expected way.

Your toe stubbed by a rock on the ground, the external force of it sent you flying into the cool, biting air. Letting out a silent scream, you tumbled through the hills. Continuously getting hit by your surroundings, your body burst with pain. It only ended when you reached a cliff, where you tried to latch onto something to prevent your fall. Despite your panicked attempts, you were tipped over and fell for a good few seconds.

The impact was great, knocking the oxygen out of you. Gasping and coughing from it, you laid there in the snow for a while, exhausted. You wished you could just flutter your eyes shut and sleep the stress away, but the cold was beginning to make its way back to you after all that excitement. Fingers growing numb and a cold sweat breaking out on your forehead, it was about time you find a warm source.

Pushing yourself up, you groaned to yourself and brushed yourself off. It was painful at first, but it didn't take too long for it to fade. That was the advantage for having so much strength. Strength didn't mean you were invisible to the cold though, thus why you needed to hurry up and get out of here.

Before you could start running with your impressive speed, a monster appeared from the shadows. Lumbering towards you, it was a frostarm lawachurl. It didn't look too happy to see you, considering you must've woken them up with your ruckus. The blue, huge creature let out a snarl, ready to kill.

Compared to you, it was slow as a slug, so you could easily outrun it. Preparing the kickstart, you were about to run a mile when a voice stilled you. "[Y/N]? Where are you?" It was a calm, low voice, soothing and steady to the ears. Coming from the cliff you were on earlier, footsteps were approaching the edge. Craning your neck back, your [e/c] eyes met teal-blue ones. Ashy blond locks laying upon his shoulders, looking winded as if he ran into trouble coming here. It was none other than Albedo, the known Alchemist of Mondstadt. The man was gorgeous; you had to rub your hues the first time you saw him.

"Down here!" you called out. In the momentary distraction, you were nearly slashed by the monster's claws in front of you.

"You were thinking of running away earlier, weren't you," he stated, his analytical gaze haunting you. "You need to fight them. How else am I supposed to study you?"

He knew you too well. At the start of his research, you were full-on board, since he was of use to you. But as time went on, the lazier you got. He promised that he would do the best of his abilities to find out the phenomenon of you coming from another world. That was right; you were from another world. You used to live in a place where there were powers of strength and speed, but no elemental powers. Sleeping and waking up to find yourself here at Dragonspine, you were at a lost of words when Albedo magically formed Geo crystals in front of you.

Sighing in defeat, you approached the ferocious beast. Clenching your fists, you readied your stance and rushed towards it. Your knuckles jagged, you pounded them against the monster's hard chest. With a few hits, the monster was knocked into the air, before crashing to the ground with a flat thud. It was already dead.

”I will always be in awe of this,” he murmured in the distance. You whirled around to see him furiously scribbling something on his notepad. As he did that, you hugged your arms around yourself, shivering in place. It was only then when he was finished with his journaling did he notice your predicament. Slight worry tinged his expression and he quickly beckoned you with his hand. “Let’s head back to my workshop.”

Finally! After climbing up the cliff carefully, you followed the young man back to the safety of his cozy cave. Contrary to your previous beliefs, the space was much more disorganized than you expected it to be. Vials of potions were hung up, while scatters of papers decorated his desk. His creations were laid around the place and a bookshelf sat on one side. Strewn boxes filled of who knew what laid there and in the way.

The most important part was the fire, of course.

Pushing passed the blond male and crouching near the fire, a breath of relief left your lips. The red, fiery thing blazed like a living thing, allowing you to be able to feel your fingers once more. While you sat there, Albedo proceeded to business. At his desk, he put down additional notes, attentative to his task. It was silent for a good amount of time, but it felt right.

You were getting quite comfortable with him.

His hawk-like vision suddenly noticed something about you. He got out of his seat and made his way to you. Peering down at your legs, he was in deep thought. Confused by his actions, you looked down to see what he was staring at. It was a cut — one out of the many cuts you must’ve recieved during your fall.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” you brushed it off. “It was just a small fall I had.”

He ignored your words, rolling your sleeves and pants up to reveal multiple dark gashes made on your [s/c] skin. “Yes. A small fall,” he said sarcastically. “I’ll go fetch a concoction for your wounds and some bandages.”

“There’s no need for that. Nothing hurts at all,” you protested. He didn’t respond, marching forward to the shelf filled of clear bottles of bubbling substance. In dismay, you had no choice but to watch him find the materials. He was so stubborn, dammit.

He returned with the promised materials in hand and sat himself down. Carefully pulling his dark gloves out, tender, pale hands were shown afterwards. Your eyes widened. It was rare to see him without his gloves... they were as pretty as he was. Wait. This meant that he would apply it then.

“H-Hold up! I can do this myself. You don’t need to waste time on me,” you argued.

“Concoctions are different from regular ointment,” he explained. “Anyway, I don’t mind at all. My precious subject got hurt because of me. It is only right for me to do this.”

Subject? Ouch. That stung a lot more than you thought it would. Were the two of you not friends by now? Keeping quiet with disappointment, you eventually allowed him the opportunity to heal you up. Hard at work, he began to coat the liquid over your wounds. His soft skin gingerly spread it over your arms and legs, leaving tingles in its wake. Heart pounding against your chest, you averted your eyes away from him. What was this feeling you were having?

He ended it by wrapping the bandages professionally, securing the products in place. Looking proud of himself, he nodded. “That should do it.”

“Thank you for this,” you told him softly as you rolled your sleeves back down. “Hey, Albedo. Does your name have a meaning to it?”

He blinked at you for a few seconds, surprise painting his features. “It does. Why the sudden question?”

You fiddled with your hands in embarrassment. “Well, it’s just that you know so much about me through our researches, but when it comes to you, you remain a mystery to me. I want to get to know you a bit better.”

He looked shocked to hear this, as if this was the first time he heard someone say this to him. Despite having a popular reputation in Mondstadt, you knew his hidden side. He was a reserved person who didn’t form many relationships. Instead, he delved himself into the world of alchemy, seeking truth nonstop. It led you to think he was lonely... so you wanted to be by his side — there to always support him. Unfortunately, if you were to return to your world, your time with him was not going to be permanent. Nothing was permanent.

“Well?” you said. “What’s the meaning of it?”

”Whiteness,” he replied, snapping out of his daze. “The measure of the diffuse reflector of solar radiation. Does it fit me?”

You could barely understand the jumble of words he uttered out. It sounded like he was speaking another language. Yet, the sentence sounded very bright, beautiful, strong, hard-working, intelligent, and amiable. It certainly sounded like him. Albedo was so radiating, you sometimes had to shut your eyes because it hurt.

“Yes, it does.”

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itsrayyyyyyyyyy · 3 years

Text

Depths of Devotion (Yandere!Hellhound x GN!Reader)

TW: Stalking?? Kinda?, Kidnapping Wordcount: 2k

You had never seen something so beautiful in your life. You breathed in the crisp and clean air of the forest while your lips curled in a small smile.

You had decided it would be a good idea to escape home for a while and enter the spectacular landscape of Southern Germany. You exited the cab and paid the man for the fair before looking forward into the dark woods of the Black Forest. With high hopes, you walked forward in the direction of your cabin.

---

You hummed a light tune as you admired the towering trees and the wildflowers surrounding you. A small hum left your throat as you bent down, and picked up a flower, and the closer you inspected it, it turned out to be a tiny violet. You fiddled with the petals for a moment, before tucking the violet behind your ears.

The journey towards the campsite wasn't too long, but it took you longer since you stopped numerous times to admire the beauty that surrounded you. A huff escaped your lips as you approached the cabin, sitting on a log and digging in your bag for your keys. The silver of the keys gleamed in the sunlight, before being used to open the cabin door.

The first thing you noticed was that it was cold and damp. The cabin looked as though it hadn't been used in years. You groaned as you set your bag down at the door, and placing your hands on your hips. 'No wonder this place was so cheap; it's a dump!' Your eye twitched slightly in annoyance, but you still shrugged off your windbreaker and placing on the bed. The cabin was relatively small; just enough space for about two people. The wooden planks beneath you creaked with every step; along with the furniture. The furniture had a light layer of dust and when you swiped your hand against the table, the dust particles roaming the still air of the cabin. You let out a few coughs while swiping at the air, trying to clear your lungs of the irritation from the dust. An old broom sat still against the single kitchen cabinet, which was even dustier than the rest of the cabin. You reached out and held the broom in your hand, and slowly rubbed your thumb against the handle, which felt smooth and cold against your skin. You began to sweep the furniture with newfound vigor, hoping to make your home for the week easier to live.

With the furniture and floor cleaned, you set the broom back in its original spot and sat down on the small bed, which let out a groan under the weight of you and your bag. A sigh left your lips as you heard the calling of birds outside one of the open windows, warmth from the light of the sun pooling into the cabin. The cool air and somewhat comfortable bed brought you comfort and helped relaxed your aching bones. You reached down and untied your heavy hiking boots, before dropping them on the floor with a loud 'thump'. The bed squeaked as you laid back against the red comforter and with a yawn, you closed your weary eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep.

---

As soon as you groggily opened your eyes, you were surprised to find yourself in an entirely new place. You were sitting on the ground and were surrounded by complete darkness, except the small flurries of red and orange embers flying around you, and a light orange glow far up ahead. "Where am I?" You whispered as you stood and wiped the dirt and ashes from your hiking outfit. You slowly began to walk towards the light ahead, then a feeling of sudden uneasiness washes over you. "Hello? Is someone else here?" You yelled into the endless void, but it was no use. The sneaky feeling of someone watching you never left as you walked closer to the light.

The smell of ashes burned the inside of your nostrils and entered your lungs, causing a series of coughs to leave your throat as you walked onward, the feeling of someone watching you never truly left you. A feeling of immense fear invaded your senses when you heard the barking of what you hoped was a dog and its footsteps coming closer. You began to walk faster towards the light, only for the steps to walk faster towards you, causing you to go in a panic. You broke out into a sprint towards the warm orange light ahead, with the thundering steps getting closer to you. A heavy feeling began to weigh you down as you had pushed forward as fast as you could to be rid yourself of the thing behind you.

You looked back as you ran, only to let out a scream at what you saw. You saw what seemed to be a wolf-like creature lung forward, its jaw snapping and its red eyes staring into your soul. But just before it reached you, Your eyes opened.

---

You sat up quickly with ragged breaths and clutching your shirt in fear. You looked around with tears blurring your vision, only to see the cabin dark with the only light was the silver moon shining through the window. Images of the creature raced through your mind and you tried to calm your breathing. "Never in my life have I ever had a nightmare that realistic..." Your voice softly spoke as you rose from the bed and turned on the lights. Your hands reached out for your bag and pulled out a can of soup, before pulling out a pot from the kitchen cabinet and heating the stovetop.

After you ate your dinner and cleaned up after yourself, you quickly changed into your nightwear and got ready for bed, or rather to relax. You knew you wouldn't be able to sleep for a while after that hellish nightmare so you settled on reading a book while waiting for the need to sleep to take over your sore body. You closed the book and let out a stifled yawn while stretching your arms. You placed the book carefully on the nightstand before turning off the lights and climbing into the bed, and enjoying the silence.

But that silence didn't last long.

---

Unbeknownst to your sleeping form, the moon shifted until it was shining on your sleeping face, giving the figure outside a perfect few of you swaddled in the warm blankets; a peaceful look on your face. The figure moved from the window and crept towards the door before it opens on its own with its hinges squeaking. Heavy but quiet footsteps approached you as you slept until the figure hovered over you. You stirred in your sleep, the smell of ash filling your nose as you let out a small moan of discomfort at the feeling of something touching your cheek. Your eyes opened slowly, only to register the large and imposing figure looming over you. It took you a second to realize what was going on, before letting out a screech and scrambled off the other side of the bed. Your body hit the floor with a thump before scrambling on your feet and making a break for the open door. You pushed through the door frame and ran further into the woods, a feeling of dread overwhelming your senses as you heard heavy and thundering footsteps following close behind you.

Your lungs burned as you pushed forward away from the cabin and deeper into the dark woods with pure fear coursing through your veins. You had never been more scared in your entire life. The dream from before was scary sure but this wasn't a dream; it was happening, and you needed to get away as fast as possible. You looked back into the winding darkness of the forest and heard a howl causing you to let a squeal; not noticing the steep hill ahead of you, causing you to fall with a gasp. You were no longer focused on the figure following you but on the searing pain all around your body as you rolled further down, before reaching the bottom of the hill and hitting your head on a rock. You lay against the rock with your vision spinning and your ears ringing. Something trickled down the side of your face, but you paid no mind to it. But just before you fell into unconsciousness, the figure stood in front of you, leaning in closer to you before your vision went black.

---

Your head was pounding wildly as you woke. You sat up slowly, rubbing your head only to touch something wet. You retracted your hand only to see a bit of blood on your fingertips. "Shit what happened..." You exclaimed only to wince in pain, your brain seemingly pounding against your skull harder than before. You took in your surroundings only to realize you weren't in the cabin, but a cave of some sort. The cave walls and roof towered over you, and the sound of water dripping from the roof brought you to your senses. The figure, the hill. You desperately looked around only to find no entry to the cave, only darkness aside from the moon shining through a hole in the roof. You looked up at the moon with a sour expression. "Why must you tempt me so, the moon?" You whispered as you turned your head at the sound of footsteps nearing. You began to panic, but knew you couldn't get up, your body was worn from hours of hiking, running, and rolling down a steep hill.

You curled into yourself as the footsteps drew nearer, a strained whimper left your lips as you shook in fear. The figure stopped right in front of the light of the moon, before stepping into the light. Your eyes widened at the sight. A large, muscular man stood before you. He was incredibly handsome; He had tan skin and short hair black as ebony; his face structure was sharp and square, with many scars littering his face and body. But the most captivating about him were his blood-red eyes hooded by his long, dark lashes. He looked down at your balled-up form and knelt in front of you. "Are you feeling any better, meine Geliebte?" The man spoke gently. His voice was incredibly deep and saccharine, like honey. You gave the man a confused look before backing away at his large, scarred hand that reached for you. His calloused hand took your right cheek in his hand before wiping away the hot tears that rolled down your face. You hadn't even realized you were crying, just like how you didn't realize how much you were trembling before this broad man. "Who are you? Where am I?" Your voice trembled as he retracted his hand and gave you a sharp-toothed smile. "My name is Brenner, meine Geliebte. And I have taken you to our home." Your eyebrows raised in confusion at his words. "Our home?" You said with curiosity laced in your voice. "Yes, our home. Now, come here." His voice rumbled before reaching over resting one hand on your upper back while the other reached under your legs to lift you. "NO!" You screamed as you struggled in his arms, trying desperately to escape this large man's grasp.

Brenner was unaffected by your attempts to escape and continued to walk further into the cave, away from the silver moon's light. "WHY HAVE YOU TAKEN ME YOU-YOU BRUTE?" You screeched beating at his broad chest as he continued walking. "meine Geliebte, don't you remember me? You were walking towards the fire, and I was behind you! I saw you and I knew you were the mate I was destined to have, so I took you far from the horrors of this world." You stopped struggling as your blood ran cold. "The dog? No, that couldn't be...But how did he know about your dream?" You thought to yourself as you stared at Brenner. "That couldn't be...It was only a dream." You spoke fearfully as he looked down at you with a big smile. "Wait. His teeth..." Your eyes widened in fear at his teeth. They were sharp like a dog; or rather a wolfs.

An ear-piercing scream left your mouth as you struggled again in his hold, tears streaming down your face. "Don't worry, meine Geliebte! I will take good care of you!"

"I love you, meine Geliebte!"

#yandere #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere x reader #male yandere x reader #yandere boy #yandere monster #gn reader #gender neutral reader

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coreychick · 3 years

Text

Chapter 3: When it Rains

Part of the In the Dark Series: 18+ Smut & Story /

Din X Fem Reader Insert

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter / All Chapters

It’s chilly out. The sun will start peeking over the hills soon and warm the air and the ground, but right now, baby goose bumps break out all over your skin. You rub your hands up and down along your arms, trying to get a little friction heat going. Mando is still sleeping, his arms bent under the back of his head like a pillow and his legs casually crossed at the ankle. With all the armor on, it’s hard to tell if he is breathing at all. His head and body lie perfectly still. You’d almost think he was dead if it weren’t for the relaxed positioning of his body. You slowly lean in closer to him, trying to see if you can glimpse the rise and fall of his chest.

“Been awake long?” comes his modulated voice, causing you to jump.

“...Not long, you?” Now you wonder if he was actually awake and watching you watch him. How embarrassing.

“I’ll never tell.” he says with the slightest hint of humor behind it. Yep, he was definitely awake.

He gets up with a little bit of a groan and gathers what few supplies are out. It doesn’t escape your notice that he left the lantern on all night and you wonder if it was for your benefit or if he fell asleep before remembering to turn it off. You unwrap his cloak from around your body, sorry to have to give it back. You’ll miss the warmth and the smell. You hold it out to him.

“Thanks for the cloak, it was a lot more comfortable sleeping last night with it.”

Maybe he notices your gooseflesh because he tells you, “Why don’t you hang on to it for a little while longer.”

You smile, “Just until the sun is up then.”

You rewrap the cloak around you turning away to sneak a quick inhale as you secure it around your neck.

“If we head that way, we should reach the Crest in a few hours.” He indicates with a nod of his head.

“Let’s get to it then.”

The walk this morning isn’t nearly as daunting as yesterday. After a decent night’s sleep and a steady flow of water and energy gel, you’re feeling reenergized. You do your best to keep up though you're certain that you’re slowing Mando down. His strides are easily double yours and you’re sure he has slowed his pace for your benefit. He never says a word about it though and even offers his hand in assistance when you reach a particularly steep climb.

“Crest should be just over this ridge.” he says, and you feel excited at the prospect of no longer walking and the potential of a padded seat….maybe even dehydrated food.

As you reach the peak, he drops your hand and stops abruptly. Down the slope at the valley floor sits a gargantuan sandcrawler. Dozens of Jawas are deep into the process of dismantling a ship piece by piece.

“Holy shit, was that your ship?” and yeah, you say was , because what’s left of it can only be considered scrap metal at this point.

Steel parts litter the ground, a trail of breadcrumbs leading into the giant sandcrawler. Entire panels are missing, sparks are sputtering and Jawas are celebrating what must be the best payday they’ve scored in a long time. Mando pulls out his rifle, bypasses the stun setting and goes straight for disintegration. He starts firing off shots, plucking shells from his ammo belt between each shot fired. One...two...three...four Jawas are turned into dust on impact. They scatter quickly, abandoning their endeavor. Mando’s sliding down the hill, yelling what you guess might be obscenities in Mando'a. You quickly follow behind, but the sandcrawler is already on the move, ramp closing before you reach the bottom. Mando takes off at a dead run after them and you're baffled at how he can be so fast with the weight of the armor on him.

You’re only a few yards behind, not really sure why you’re trying to keep up- it’s not as if you can take on an entire Jawa fortress. You don’t even have a blaster.

Mando yells back at you, “Stay with the ship.”

You don’t have to tell me twice.

You slow down, skidding to a stop and watch as Mando sprints even harder. Somehow he catches up with the sandcrawler and leaps onto the side of it just as it passes over the hill and disappears over the other side and out of view. You’ve never heard of anybody infiltrating an entire sandcrawler, especially on their own. It was likely armed with an entire clan of Jawas. What’s he going to do?

You turn back to the ship and decide to do a damage check. This beast of a ship looked bad from afar, but up close it’s much worse than you imagined. The Jawas have completely disassembled the ship. The armory is empty, cabinet doors hung ajar. Panels are missing, wires, hoses and belts are hanging precariously from the walls and the ceiling. Embers spark as various systems sputter in and out of power. You see the carbonation chamber and storage container. It gives you the heebie jeebies just thinking about it.

To be frozen in carbonite is probably your worst fear. It would be just like the hole, only you wouldn’t be able to move, frozen in place...in the dark…. but still aware. Inward shake .

The storage unit is empty. If Mando had any quarries in there, the Jawas had taken them too. You climb the ladder to the cockpit. The control panel is destroyed, lights flicker in and out.

We’re not flying out of here in this.

You retreat back down to the small space that appears to be Mando’s private quarters. It isn’t much- a small cot only big enough for one. Out of curiosity you pull open the drawer below the cot. It has several clothing items, but nothing you’d consider to be personal effects. The privy isn’t much to look at and appears to be about the only space as yet untouched by the miniature thieves. The cabinet still has a few hygienic items, probably only because Jawas have no use for them. You make a mental note of the bar of soap and decide you’ll become acquainted with it later. Though you’d desperately love a shower, it is highly likely that the Jawas have taken the clean holding tank water. Even if they haven't, attempting to turn on the water with all the power surging was probably a bad idea.

You’re no mechanic, but repairing the ship, at least to your eyes looks nearly impossible. You try to think of some way you can help the situation, at least until Mando gets back, but there isn’t much you can do. You decide to collect the scattered debris light enough to carry that is strewn around the ship in case any of it can be salvaged. You don’t know what most of the pieces are or where they go, but the few you do figure out, you place nearby it’s intended location. The rest, you sort into piles. After a few hours, the remaining pieces are too heavy to move on your own. You need to find some type of dolly or way to drag them across the ground. With dark clouds rolling in, you abandon that idea and decide that you’ve done all you can for the time being. You sit at the top of the ramp, hugging your knees and watch the horizon until a now familiar armored silhouette appears.

Mando walks up the ramp, right past you and neither of you says a word. It clearly didn’t go well with the Jawas and he looks a little more worn than when he left. His left vambrace appears damaged-tiny sparks and zapping noises come from it sporadically. You can hear him behind you, taking in all the damage, likely cataloguing the destruction in his mind. He stops at the armory first and seeing it completely empty, he slams the doors in frustration. You give him his space as he continues his inspection. You feel bad for him. There’s no doubt in your mind that this ship was not only his mode of transport, but it was likely his home too.

He makes his way into the cockpit last. You can hear each engine sputter and die out as he attempts to start them. You cringe as the last one groans and lets out a bellow of smoke. You hear Mando slam his fists down, likely on the console. The sky opens up then and rain begins to fall, hissing as it meets the heat on the engine.

When it rains, it pours.

Thunder sounds off in the distance and the sky lights up with a burst of light every so often. It’s several more minutes before Mando reappears. He takes a seat next to you. What can you even say? Sorry for your loss? Your brain goes another direction though as you watch the rain come down harder.

“You know, you’re much more likely to die of drowning than you are of dehydration in the desert.” It was a silly thing to say in the moment.

He looks out at the landscape.

“Flash floods?” he asks.

“Mmm Hmmm.”

It’s pouring now and the hull of the ship gets increasingly loud with the sound of falling water as the rain makes its way in through gaps in the missing fuselage panels. Mando sighs loudly.

“I’m really sorry about your ship.” You feel his gaze on you through the visor, though he doesn’t respond. He looks back out at the downfall of rain.

“Did you….did you pick up all those parts and organize them?”

You shrug your shoulders in nonchalance.

“What’s the plan now?” you ask lightly.

“I’m going to see if I can repair the comm. I know someone- he has an outpost not too far. Hopefully I can get a short-range communication out to him. If not, we’re walking again. Either way... “ he says, indicating the rain with a nod of his head, “we’re stuck here for tonight.”

You nod your head, happy he at least has a plan.

“While you’re doing that, I think I’ll take a shower.”

His helmet turns quickly, obviously surprised.

“A rain shower, I mean. I saw a bar of soap in the fresher, do you mind?”

He looks back out to the rain.

“Don’t be too long...and stay close to the ship.” he says before climbing back up to the cockpit.

At the top of the ramp you discard all of your clothing. Soap in hand, you scramble down the gangway in search of the perfect spot to bathe. The rain is cold and goosebumps break out all over your body, but the cool water feels deliciously refreshing too. You find a place alongside the ship where the rain is collecting and funneling off the top, creating a solid stream. The water feels exhilarating and the knowledge that you're bathing out in the open- where anyone could see- sends a thrill coursing through your body.

You decide to start with your hair, lathering up the soap in your hands and dispersing it through the tangled mess. You lean your head over, combing the soap through with your fingers as best you can. You decide not to rinse until the end, letting the soap sit there for as long as it can.

Next you wash your body, taking the time to lather up every square inch. The soap has a lovely natural scent to it, warm and spicy with a hint of something floral at the end. You inhale deeply and find yourself wondering if this is what the Mandalorian smells like underneath all that beskar. You work quickly and diligently to clean every nook and cranny, with the exception of your feet. As the water pours off the side of the ship, it’s beginning to form large mud puddles where you stand and there’s nothing you can do to prevent mud on your feet. Done cleaning, you decide it’s time to rinse. You step fully under the stream and relish the feeling as all the dirt and the grime is washed away. You rinse out your hair, pleasantly surprised at how well the soap handled the matting.

Soap in hand, you make your way back. Alighting on an idea, you grab a bowl like piece of metal from one of the piles you created earlier and bring it into the hull with you. You set the bowl down under a steady stream of water from a leak overhead. The makeshift bowl immediately starts filling with water. You turn back to your discarded pile of clothes and simply cannot stomach the idea of putting the dirty garments back on your freshly scrubbed body. Biting your lip, you decide to borrow one of the shirts you saw in Mando’s quarters earlier. You pad over to his bunk leaving a light trail of dirty footprints along the way. Reaching the drawer you pull out a long sleeved black linen shirt. It’ll do nicely until you can get your clothes washed.

There’s nothing to dry off with so you just throw the shirt over your head. It clings to you in places as it absorbs the water, but it billows enough that it’s not too bad. The sleeves are long and hang down well below your hands. It takes several maneuvers to roll them up high enough for your hands to get free. The hem of the shirt is long too, and thankfully hangs halfway down your thighs, effectively covering your generous ass. You swipe a pair of clean socks too and make your way back over to the bowl. It’s got a few inches of water in it now, making it perfect to rinse the mud off of your feet. You get the job done and officially feel cleaner than ever. Finding a dry corner to sit in, you put the Mandalorian’s oversized socks on. Again, they are way too large, coming up to just under your knees- but they are clean and warm, which is more than you can say for yours. The shirt is quite loose, but you decide that your belt and boots can still be put back on and that solves the problem. Your belt is made of brown leather, wraps around your waist twice and buckles at the side of the hip, effectively eliminating most of the bagginess. All in all, it’s not too bad.

You scoop up the remaining pile of your dirty clothes and return to the foot bowl. It’ll serve nicely as a wash basin. Using the same soap as you did before, you dunk the clothes in and do your best to clean them. After a lengthy amount of time spent scrubbing and ringing, you hang them up in the empty armory to dry. Hopefully the sun will come back out tomorrow and you can line dry them. You grab Mando’s cloak and head up to the cockpit.

You expect to find Mando in the pilot’s seat, but instead he’s sitting on the floor casually leaned against the wall. With the helmet on, you can’t read the expression on his face but his body language says It’s been a day. You take up the same position on the opposite wall, now facing each other. Despite the destruction of the ship, the cockpit appears to be the only space in the ship not breached by the rain. Everything appears to be dry and with the small space, the shared body heat makes it a little warmer in here.

“Any luck?” you ask, finger combing your wet hair.

“I was able to get a comm out, Kuiil will be here tomorrow. He’s going to take us to the Jawas. He thinks we can trade with them to get all my parts back.”

“You think that will work?”

“I don’t have much choice, I have to try.”

He seems much calmer now, so you decide to ask,

“What happened with the Jawas?”

He waits a beat before answering with a sigh,

“They electrocuted me.”

You have no idea why, but you can’t help but chuckle a little. The idea of those tiny, annoying little robed runts getting the best of Mando- well it’s just funny.

“Dank Farrik, I hate it when that happens.” you laughingly say.

He waits a few seconds.

“Then I fell off the top of the moving fortress.” he adds, and you start laughing even harder.

You pause for a second to bite your lip, trying not to laugh too hard at his expense- and fail.

You start laughing again and this time he chuckles with you. The sound of him laughing with you puts a warm spot in your belly...or maybe a little further down.

“Does your friend have a ship?” you ask, beginning to plait your hair across the top like a headband.

He waits a few seconds to answer and then replies, “blurrg,” and you lose it. The situation is so ridiculous. A tear of laughter falls from your eye as you down right belly laugh.

“A blurrg!?! I love riding blurrgs.” you say. It feels good to laugh again, but then you start to feel flush recalling your ride on the blurrg and how your body had responded to his.

It must be the close call with death. You had heard stories of people getting super horny after funerals and such. It seems so odd, but it kind of makes sense to you now. When you’re happy to be alive, your body wants to celebrate in ways that feel good. You suddenly feel an ache down below, and become aware of a wetness forming between your legs. You shift uncomfortably and change the position of your legs. Mando watches you, but he can’t possibly know what you're thinking.

You finish plaiting your braid and leave it to hang down on the side of your temple. You leave the rest of your hair to fall naturally and dry on it’s own.

"How was your shower?" He asks.

You moan with pleasure, "It was...divine."

He watches you for a moment. “Is that my shirt?”

You look down, having forgotten that you borrowed it without asking. The material clings to your breasts a little too much from being damp and you try to pull on it so it’s not so obvious.

“I hope you don’t mind. I washed my clothes...just need something until they are dry.”

You grab his cloak from where you had set it down next to you on the floor and hold it out to him.

“Hang on to it for another night, it’ll probably get cold in here tonight.”

“Thanks.” you say and spread the cloak out over your legs.

The sky is dark now and lightning flashes above the glass, temporarily reflecting off of parts of Mando’s armor. You take a moment to appraise it, noting the color and the wear. Though dull and faded now, you’d bet it was once a deep red.

“Is red your favorite color?” you ask.

Mando sighs a little.

“Every color signifies something different in Mandalorian armor. Green is for duty...gold is for vengeance.” he pauses. “....Red is to honor a parent.” There is a note of something else in his tone, but you decide not to pry. You know what it’s like to lose a parent- both in fact, and it happens to be your least favorite subject to talk about. You're not fooling yourself here. Mando isn’t your friend and he has shown no intentions of getting to know you on a personal level.

He hasn’t even asked for my name.

You notice the small amount of blue on the top of one shoulder pauldron. “And blue?”

“Reliability.” He says, and why does his tone sound like a bedroom voice to your ears?

You shift your legs again trying to ease the ache starting to bloom in your pussy, thankful to have the cloak covering you.

Think about something else.

“Well, I can certainly vouch for that.”

Now he seems to shift a little uncomfortably as well.

“What’s it like being a bounty hunter?”

“Probably not what you’d think. Most of my time is spent traveling, locating the quarry. Depending on the chain code, I may have to spend a lot of time staking out locations, studying my target’s patterns. The actual acquisition is usually quick.”

“Chain code?”

“Chain codes are the working profile- age, species, last known locations etc.”

You nod in understanding.

“Have you ever not found someone?”

“No.”

“No? Not ever?”

“I’ve had plenty go wrong. Found ones that are already dead or had another hunter locate them first, occasionally they can give me the slip - for a time - or hold up in a location that may take me weeks to crack, but eventually….I WILL find you.”

You swallow thickly at the certainty in his voice.

I believe it.

His words seem to hang in the air for awhile. I will find you.

You both sit in a comfortable silence for a time. The glass windshield begins to fog over as rain continues to pour until he says,

“You might want to try and get some rest, Kuiil should be here early.”

“Ok,” you agree before curling up on the floor with his cloak.

“ ’night Mando.” ….

“Goodnight.” he repeats back to you.

Thankfully, the rain stopped at some point during the night. You were setting your clothes out to dry in the sun while Mando rendezvoused with Kuiil up the road. The two took a few moments, probably going over the plan in private before the Ugnaught appeared to make introductions. You liked him immediately. He was to the point and matter of fact with everything he said. He also brought food.

You observe in silence, the entertaining banter between him and Mando as you journey on a sled being pulled behind the Ugnaught and his blurrg.

By late morning, you find the traveling Sandcrawler and the Jawas. They have pop up tents sent up in a makeshift marketplace- no doubt peddling Mando’s stolen ship parts. His mood shifts quickly at the sight. He is already irritable and becomes even more so when Kuiil suggests that he needs to take off his weapons in order to appear reasonable for negotiations.

“I’m a Mandalorian, weapons are my religion.”

Mando’s walking the Razor’s edge.

With a deep sigh, Mando acquiesces and sets the weapons down next to you.

“Stay here.” Mando says, as he and Kuiil attempt to sit and work something out with the Jawas.

The situation is tense, but Kuill does a superlative job of reining in both sides. He serves as both negotiator and translator when the Jawas begin giggling at Mando’s attempt to speak their language. Soon they come to some sort of bargain as the Jawas are all chanting with excitement, something about an egg.

Despite the intensity of the situation, their humor is catching. Several Jawas approach you, though you sense they are not dangerous- merely curious about you. One closely examines your belt while another plays with the hem of your shirt- Mando’s shirt.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” he shouts, and the curious Jawas scatter in fear.

You bite your lip and try not to smile.

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#the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian smut #mandalorian x female oc #din djarin #mando #din djarin x female oc #the mandalorian #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you

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dark128 · 4 years

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KNOCKOUT - CHAPTER 11

“Do you want me to?”

Bo nods down at the condom Harry’s stiffly holding onto. He’s coiled up so tight that it would be a bad idea to let her undress him. He’s having a difficult enough time as it is just toying with the inevitable of her touching him, let alone below the waist.

Bo had watched in fondness from her spot lounging on the bed as Harry moved from candle to candle, lighting as many as he could before the flame on the match got too low. She’d laughed at his explanation for not striking a second match, claiming there was a fine line between romantic and sacrificial.

But now in this soft, flickering room, she smiles at him and he almost loses his nerve.

“No, it’s alright, I’ve got it.” Kneeing closer to her across the mattress, “just lay back,” Harry encourages softly.

On second thought, that’s probably the worst thing he could of suggested because now Bo’s laid beneath him and he’s acquired an audience to a process that makes his hands shake. Hair splays on his pillows and it’s been so long since he’s had something so pretty occupy his bed.

She’ll linger on his sheets. The smell of her perfume and the fleeting heat of her body which escapes once the covers are peeled back, both temporary, both are not enough. He craves so much more. But the memory will be permanent.

Harry doesn’t think he’ll ever forget the way she’s looking at him now, like he hung the moon and every star in the sky.

He swallows before going through the motions of unbuttoning his jeans and sliding the zip. The full weight of her gaze lands on his stomach as the bottom of his t-shirt is taken between his teeth to hold it up and out of the way. Fingertips unwittingly tickle as Bo traces his hip and on towards his belly button. And he sort of hopes she misses the goosebumps it raises on his skin.

As Harry gently presses to widen her legs, the winsome charm she led with earlier seems to escape her. He’s left feeling fully endeared by her absent fiddling of his belt loop.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

There’s a smile but it lacks prowess and so Harry removes himself from looming over her and comes to lay beside her. Bo shifts into him.

“We’ve had sex before.”

It’s quiet because he doesn’t want to disturb the delicacy they’ve slipped into. Facing each other, it’s still a little difficult to comprehend that he’s with her now. She’s in his tiny basement flat where the hot water is temperamental and the floorboards creak in odd places along the hall.

“I know. But it feels new,” she softly smiles, thumb lightly rubbing at the tattoo on his hip.

Her beauty has become more refined in the five years they’ve known each other, more of a classic look that has Harry pinned every time she holds his eye contact. Despite her wishes for a growth spurt, Bo stands at the same height against Harry’s shoulder. But now there’s a confidence in the way she holds herself, filled with achievements and future aspirations.

He can’t really imagine what she’s seeing. He’s been greeted by this image of tattoos and damaged eye every morning for years whilst he brushes his teeth in the bathroom mirror. So perhaps this intimacy does feel new to her now.

He’s pliantly patient as he waits for Bo to initiate further contact between them. They talk quietly, muffling laughter into the pillow as Harry recounts one of his mishaps in the kitchen. It’s not long before she’s bashfully rubbing her nose to his and Harry’s sighing into the sweet kiss they share.

He welcomes the palm warming his side and it’s when she gets a little more handsy that Harry encourages Bo to seat herself upon his lap. Sat with his back to the coolness of the wall, there’s a heavy clash in temperature between the brickwork and the woman he holds close. And whether wilfully calculated or involuntary, Bo’s hip movements are progressing the thoughts in Harry’s one-track mind. The longing of experiencing another person so intimately is finally being quelled, soft mouths and testing fingertips reaffirming to the both of them.

But it’s the tug to Bo’s hair that sharply clears the heavenly ascent, lacking in any sort of lustful passion and is instead leaning more towards unintentional pain. She breaks the kiss, fingers wrapping Harry’s wrist.

“AaaaAA,” Bo’s pitch escalates as he attempts to remove the hand riddled with silver rings from her hair.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Harry fusses.

She’s instructed to hold still, huffing out a sigh, whilst Harry sorts the situation out with a commentary of swears. Looking like she’s sucking on a lemon, Bo obediently follows Harry’s lead as he adjusts so he’s not working in his own shadow. Once she's free, her hair is tangled enough to make drawing her fingers through it bit of a pain.

Harry twists the rings off his fingers, throwing them in irritation to the bedside. Another colourful curse falls from his mouth as he shuffles them both down the bed before flopping backwards onto the mattress. Bo watches as he rubs his eyes with tightly clenched fists.

“I’m sorry,” Harry sighs through his hands that are currently covering his face.

“Don’t be silly.”

“I cocked that up.”

Still currently residing in Harry’s lap, she’s not quite sure if she should remove herself given that the mood has taken bit of a nosedive. Bo’s answer is given moments later as Harry’s knees come up behind her and palms splay out on her thighs.

“Don’t. Feels good.”

“You ok?”

“I’m fine, are you alright?” he tightly replies.

“You just seem a little tense,” she warily suggests.

“It hasn’t exactly gone as smoothly as I’d hoped.”

He doesn’t quite meet her eyes, the action weighing heavy on her chest.

“You been thinking about this a lot then?” Bo teases, eyebrows suggestively raising as she tries to lighten the tone.

“‘Bout what?” he fires back, palms softly squeezing where they’ve remained.

Harry loves the flirting, and is more than thrilled to have it reciprocated, to have her play with him in this back and forth. Suggestive tones that are made even more fun because he knows there’s a depth to it.

But he sort of also wants to hear her explain their situation. Explicitly.

“What do you think?”

“Couldn’t say,” he goads.

“About having me under you,” Bo simply replies, not missing a beat.

Prayers answers.

“Maybe, but it’s mostly been about the cuddling and kisses on the cheek.”

“Liar,” she accuses, lightly pinching at his side.

“Ok, ok!” he jostles her as Bo’s fingers find a particularly ticklish spot under his arm. “I might have thought once or twice about getting you in that window seat.”

“You said you were kidding about that,” she implores, batting him across the arm.

“A guy can dream.”

“Well, you’ll be dreaming for an eternity.”

“Shame, any thoughts about the same activity in the shower?”

Bo laughs, rearranging herself out of Harry’s lap.

“Maybe we should concentrate on the current situation,” she motions, “lay back."

Harry’s on his back and he feels like a fucking lemon because his hands don’t know how to play it cool and his heart is hammering like it’s his first time. He can’t be sure what Bo is doing until she appears with her hair tied back from her face. She’s assumed the odd position of straddling his knees. And Harry watches her crawl up his body before a kiss between them only has four inches to make contact.

“Hey,” Bo hushes with a smile. “How ya doing?”

“Fine.”

“Just fine?” Bo lightly tests, her fingernails running across his stomach.

Harry lays with his brain between his legs and his bottom lip between his teeth. He enjoys the lingering tingle as nails drag just that little bit too deep; done it to himself when the occasion arises and he’s in the mood to get off. But this is different because for the first time in a while it’s not Harry’s own hand palming over the seam of his jeans. And it’s the partially choked sound he makes that sets her smile.

Her touch is gentle, easing his jeans down until another tattoo is uncovered. She gives it some consideration, thumbing over the patch of inked skin.

“Is this a tiger?” she asks, grinning up at Harry.

“Thiger.”

Bo snorts before clamping her hand to his thigh to lean in for a kiss, which ends up being a clumsy kiss to his chin when Harry moves his head at the last second. They laugh again.

“Please tell me you didn’t just get that tattoo so you could make that joke,” she scorns him whilst edging his underwear down.

“It did make you laugh thou-“

The sentence is choked off as Bo takes him into her mouth. All thoughts evaporate from his mind, only ones of pleasure and utter desperation remain as she licks around the tip.

“You’re gunna have to bear with me, it’s a steep learning curve.”

And Harry thinks she almost looks smug as her index traces the curve of him from base to head. Even more so as his cock is laden with chaste kisses, an innocent gesture for such an erotic setting. And apparently mirroring his dilemma between either wanting to take Bo sweetly or just nail her into the mattress.

He only realises how pent up he is when his fists loosen in the sheets once she’s finished with her little display. He’s hardened fully and he’s having trouble with digesting the image of her laid between his legs.

Even with a mouth full of cock she’s trying hard not to smile.

“You’re gunna kill me,” he pants, eyes rolling back.

She huffs a laugh around him which proves to visibly tighten the muscles in his thighs. And it’s only now that Harry thinks, she tied her hair back to suck me off. He may have transcended to a higher plain of existence as her hand begins to work him over - deliberate with her strokes and squeezing just slightly to keep him coiled up.

Harry’s own hands have returned to the sheets, balling them in fists as he endures what’s panning out to be the most long-awaited oral of his life. He’s a little embarrassed to say that he can already feel the muscles in his stomach tightening. It’s a hot clench that only burns warmer by the second. Harry’s approach is a little haphazard, but the hand he brushes to Bo’s cheek hurriedly catches her shoulder to encourage her away.

“I-I think I’ll be alright now.”

Or maybe not, Harry swallows as Bo passes the back of her hand over the corner of her mouth.

“Spoilsport,” she teases.

***

“I always loved your thighs,” Harry comments, warming his palms to the inside of Bo’s legs.

He’s going to satisfy that heavy ache she feels low in her belly. It only intensifies as Harry looks up at her through his eyelashes. He’s going to bewitch her senses and leave her wanting him again and again. It’s been so long, Bo would forgo sleep and forfeit any sort of productiveness the next day just roll in the serenity of candlelight and a lover’s warmth.

She’s still sporting her bee-saving t shirt as she watches the muscles in his chest and shoulders transform with his movement. An ungainly squeak is produced on account of Harry sharply dragging her a little further down the mattress. Something which he finds highly amusing judging by the crinkle to his nose.

“Brute.”

Harry laughs.

He murmurs a quick apology, brushing his fingers to her cheek before retrieving a condom. The process is smoother as his hands refuse to quake and now Bo’s onlooking makes his blood rush in electric excitement. He’s practically thrumming with it as his touch leisurely slips between the apex of her thighs. She clamps his hand there with the forgotten feeling of someone else’s kind fingers. Harry’s treated to a series of spectacular little sounds, whisperings and then small startles that are muffled into Bo’s arm as she hides her face. He’s being brazen with it, not just the fact that his fingers play but knowing that this is what she wants, she wants him.

There’s a look of wild revelation as his fingers dip into wet warmth. The couple hold eye contact, Harry’s movements gentle and without haste in the knowledge of acts to follow. There’s an actual throbbing between Bo’s thighs, making them shake in the effort to keep them from falling completely open. It’s barely a whisper, but Harry hears it, the “please” that tells him she’s barely keeping it together.

She’s ethereal laying below him, all soft features and devout gaze as he lines up and finally pushes in. It’s almost jarring the way she feels around him again, giving him that pliant smile, the one he recognises, the one that means she’s not completely with him. That is until he starts to move and it’s like she’s a drowning woman breaching the surface. Her back arches from the bed, arms around his neck as she pants into his, clinging to him like he’s her saviour.

“Harry.’

His name is spoken in a raging half whisper.

“I know,” he replies because he can feel it too.

Rapture. She’ll be his undoing and his sexual reawakening. Harry welcomes that warm pull in his belly as he angles his hips to draw new, breathy sounds from his lover’s lips.

Bo’s an honest delight beneath him. The way he can feel her toes curling against his calf, her fingers gripping his nape to encourage him further on top. As if he could get any closer, they’re already sharing breath and fumbling kisses.

Harry’s pretty sure a bottom corner of the fitted sheet has sprung loose with the way they’re contorting to keep damp skin close. His skimming hands have pushed her t shirt up, deft fingers hooking the right cup from her bra down so he can kiss at her breast.

She’s more fussy than he remembers, especially when he leans away and takes a heady breather. Her huffing is a tad undue but Harry thrives in it, noting her disgruntled expression as he slips from her entirely. There’s a flash of an unpleasant second when Harry’s mind tells him he’s going to be booted in the face.

But Bo’s brought her feet up to lightly drum against his chest and Harry can’t help but laugh at the playfulness, grabbing at her ankles before she has a chance patter against him again.

“Come on,” she almost whines.

His hands move of their own accord, sliding down her calfs to press his thumbs into the back of her knees.

“Impatient little thing, aren’t you,” Harry replies, leaning into her whilst spreading and gently bearing down on the back of her thighs.

There’s pink blooming on her cheeks, and Harry can’t be sure if it’s the temperature in their duvet fort, or the fact that Bo’s ankles are now resting on his shoulders.

“You promised me a whole evening.”

Harry thinks her chide lacks the lustre needed to fully penalise him, especially when he can feel her wriggling to meet his hips.

“And I wouldn’t want to go back on my promise.”

He lightly kisses at her ear, unworried about hiding his smile.

“Because that would make you a shitty person.”

He’s not expecting the pinch to his hip, so the growl he produces in response is a surprise to both of them.

“I don’t remember you being so boisterous.”

“Maybe it’s because you’re practically bending me in half.”

Harry lets Bo unfurl, her legs slipping down to rest beside his hips once more.

“You’ll have to forewarn me next time so I can stretch beforehand.”

“Next time?” Harry curiously enquires.

“I’m not just having you once,” Bo breathily promises in his ear, the tone making it seem like that fact was obvious.

Harry plays along with their distracted conversation, leaning over her with an elbow propped and his thigh between hers.

“Tonight?”

He’s not ready for the shove to his shoulder or the dominating role reversal, so when Bo’s sat astride him Harry’s sure she feels him twitch. She doesn’t play at coy, but there’s definitely something more bashful in her movements as she delights in the feel of him again.

“Forever.”

That promise sets his heart soaring.

She reaches behind for him, shuffling back to seat herself fully down with a flutter of eyelashes and somewhat of a startled whimper. And Harry can’t help but grunt at this all-consuming feeling; this time with the added pressure of hands splayed on his chest as he’s halfheartedly held down.

“Was that a bit cheesy?” Bo asks once she’s chased her breath. “It sounded romantic in my head.”

“A bit, but I think it worked in the moment.”

“Good, because I meant it."

He doesn’t want it to sound insincere whilst she’s riding him, so Harry bottles up the ‘I love you’, and saves it for when he can confess with a clearer mind. Instead, he grabs at her hips, eyes devouring the way her body moves against his and he’s delighted with the repeat image of her bouncing, slack jawed. And because he’s a tease, Harry delights further in the sounds she creates when his hips come up to meet hers.

She wants him every way she can, but that wish may have to wait.

“Lean forward,” he pleads.

Bo’s forehead comes to rest on Harry’s as his feet plant to the mattress and his knees come up behind her. With the strength of his tattooed hips, he meets hers at a toe-curling rate. Bo succumbs, allowing Harry to take the lead and guide them both, her face finding the crook of his neck and his arms wrapping around her back. He cradles her into completion, hearts hammering as Harry chases the rapture that Bo blissfully makes peace with. It’s only with the last few stuttering thrusts that Bo pushes up, taking his face between her hands to kiss away the curses that slip free from his smile.

***

“I like them,” Bo admires, fingers running over twin inked dates on his shoulders.

She shifts a little to sit back on his thighs, taking his forearm with her as she intently inspects all the splashes of black ink she’s unfamiliar with. It’s all Harry can do to give Bo a soppy smile whilst she carries on, giving each design her attention. They’re partially dressed again, Harry only decent enough to have taken delivery of their pizza before returning to the bedroom.

“Who’s this?”

Harry’s arm is raised as Bo taps a finger to the tattoo in question. It’s a delicate gesture that challenges her comical disapproval.

“My mermaid.”

“She’s cute,” Bo says, finger following the swish of dark hair. “Why’d you get her?”

“Dunno, I’ve always liked swimming.”

He’s met with a surprised laugh.

“So, of course, logically you got a mermaid permanently tattooed on your body,” she chides, shaking her head.

There’s a small “B” inked just below the inside crease of his elbow. She tilts her head, smoothing over the skin with her thumb.

“That one’s yours,” he says simply, like it couldn’t be anything else.

“Mine?” she asks, eyebrows shooting up.

Harry presses a kiss to her forehead.

“Yep, “B” for Bo,” Harry tells her quietly. “Beautiful.”

She licks her thumb, rubbing at the letter.

“You really got it tattooed?”

“Yeah,” he laughs.

“That’s permanent.”

“I’m aware,” Harry smirks, biting at her neck. “Just like my mermaid.”

“Yeah, just like her,” Bo thoughtfully rephrases.

It’s a few moments before she replies, still rubbing at the small letter.

“Why’d you get it?”

“You’re important to me, you’ve helped me through so much, it just felt right.”

She doesn’t say anything in return, not sure that she actually can. Pouting in contemplation, Bo shifts a little in Harry’s lap.

“Maybe I should get your name tattooed on me.”

“Oh, really?” Harry smirks. “Where? Hopefully somewhere only I get to see?”

“Hmmm, I was thinking more of a chest piece,” she leans away, gesturing to a band of skin above her breasts.

Harry appears a little horrified for a moment but his composure cracks before laughing and grabbing for her hands.

“I’m not sure that’s your best idea.”

She slumps back to be cradled into Harry’s side.

“Or maybe I’ll just get a ‘H’ here,” she hushes, voice more sincere as fingers point to the exact spot on her arm where he has her inked. “So we can match.”

Bo’s treated to a kiss to the tip of her nose. She sighs before further squirming away to continue the inspection of body art.

“Roll over then.”

She makes herself comfortable, sitting astride his lower back as delicate fingers trace more tattoos curving around his side.

“Oh God, that one’s awful.”

Harry huffs a laugh into the pillow in response to her brash opinion and feathery touch.

***

Harry wakes to the heart wrenching feeling of an empty bed. He sits up rather abruptly, hands skimming bed-warm sheets as the duvet slips to pool at his waist. He swallows twice, mind reeling to kickstart foggy memories from hours before.

The bedroom door has been left ajar, just enough for a thin strip of light to hollow out the darkened room. Soft footsteps follow and Harry’s heart climbs back down his throat for it to thud against his ribcage.

His body flops back against the pillows before the door is nudged just enough for Bo to slip back through. She doesn’t think anything of Harry now sprawled out on his back, but she knows he’s awake because of the subtle inclination when she draws back the confusion of sheets.

“Your hot tap is broken,” Bo hushes whilst climbing back into bed on the floor.

She receives a rough hum, Harry’s arm draping her waist.

“Did you hear me?”

Instead of moving himself closer, he opts for coercing Bo until the length of her body is flush to his, like he’s seeking the cool side of the pillow.

“Broken,” he grunts.

“And you don’t have a bath mat, my feet got cold. I can go out and get you one tomorrow. Or today?” she adds, trying to lean over Harry to confirm the time on one of their phones.

He mumbles something incoherent into her shoulder, lips forming words like kisses upon her skin. With her on her back and Harry now on his side, he’s almost perfected the art of blurring the lines between them and creating one warm entity under the covers.

“Repeat that.”

She gently catches under his chin with the tips of her fingers, prising him from the nook in her neck.

“Don’t need one.”

The raspy words catch in his throat.

“Everyone needs a bathmat. Where will you dry your feet? You’ll just track wet footprints through your room.”

“I’ll think about it.”

No, he won’t.

“Of course you won’t, I’ll just go and get you one,” she pauses. “It’ll be a fluffy orange monstrosity because you’re being difficult about it. Probably a matching toilet cover as well - if they still even sell those?”

The arm banding her middle squeezes tighter which Bo thinks is Harry’s silent way of getting her to hush..

“I love you.”

Oh.

Bo stills in his arms.

It’s something she’d insinuated hours before. That she would still be his in the morning, and every other morning of her promised ‘forever’. But for him to utter the words into their lengthy, soft post-sex haze - Bo was just about ready to settle into the cradle of sleep. But now she’s fully awake.

He’s still pressed against the length of her, his hair brushing her cheek as the urgency to gauge her reaction grows.

“I’m in love with you - still.”

Still. Like he’d never stopped. And that’s a little terrifying to know, especially in the knowledge of their separation and the years between then and their reunion.

“I’m still in love with you,” he rephrases. “Got there in the end.”

His lips catch a soft smile which diminishes as his words rest into silence. Harry feels Bo draw in a grounding breath as though she’s trying to compose herself. Unsure as to whether this conversation should be illuminated, Harry decides against turning on the lamp. Partly because he frightened to disturb her but mostly because he can’t bear the thought of seeing Bo’s face if it’s rejection that awaits him.

“If you’re not ready then I - well, I understand -“

“I’d like to take you out,” Bo interrupts.

“What?”

“Not fatally,” she hurriedly explains, “like on a date?”

“Oh - ok.”

“Yeah? We could go out to dinner or have cake at a cafe in one of the parks? Or there’s that cinema experience that looks quite fun.”

*** 4 Months Later ***

Harry can hear it in her voice, that she’s not prepared for his confession of undying love just yet and she certainly isn’t ready to say it back. But this is the start that they both deserve, a calm, normal beginning to their new relationship. It’s a chance to get to know each other again and to see where it progresses. And Harry’s happy with that as they lay and bounce date ideas between them, all the while Bo’s fingers have found his own.

“Why must everything be so high up?” Bo grumbles.

Her complaint is voiced to the glasses on the top shelf in Harry’s kitchen cupboard. Despite her irritation, he’s pleased to see her emerge minutes later with two drinks in hand and his socks pulled up nearly to her knees over leggings.

“I see you were successful,” he grins as Bo sorts out coasters.

“Well, I did nearly pull everything off the worktop in my struggle, but it’s fine.”

Her words are accompanied with a sugar-sweet smile that can only mean trouble for Harry. He hopes he’s forgiven with the choice of Tuesday night Bake-Off on the telly. And it’s as Bo’s laughing at some awful bread pun that the question just feels right.

“Bo, do you wanna move in?”

She smiles, pressing into his side and rearranging his arm so it curls around her back.

“No,” he huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to her hairline. “I mean move into the flat - with me.”

“Really?”

Bake-Off forgotten, Bo swivels to face him. There’s joy dancing in her eyes as the bun atop her head bobs with her excited wriggle to move closer. The TV is set on mute and Harry becomes confused at the sharpness in her eyes.

“I want the left side of the bed, permanently,” she negotiates.

“It’s yours. Even when you’re not here.”

“And you’ll leave space in the bathroom for my things?”

“I mean, there’s quite a lot of your stuff in there already - but of course.”

Bo kisses his cheek.

“I just got my first pay from work,” Bo happily states. “I’m gunna buy some proper glasses, so we don’t have to drink wine out of mugs.”

“What’s the point?” Harry laughs. “The fact that you stick a straw in everything sort of lowers the tone of a proper wine glass anyway.’

The remark earns him a sore shoulder.

“And we can always get you a step for the kitchen.”

She rounds on him so fast he nearly spills the drink he’s just picked up from the coffee table.

“We will not be doing that. You’ll help me move everything down so I can reach it myself.”

“No problem.”

“I’m gunna phone my mum,” she rambles, untangling from Harry and tripping over a charging cable.

“Should I set up a direct debit? Or do you just want me to transfer my half to you each month? What would be easier?”

“Don’t worry,” he laughs. “We can sort it out later.”

“I love you!” she calls from where she’s peeking around the doorframe.

It’s such a casual gesture but Harry’s settling into the knowledge that the love he’s bursting with is reciprocated by the woman he adores.

“I love you, too,” he smiles.

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