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chokepoet · 9 months

Text

Cruelty & Empathy 18+

gif by @romulussy

Summary | A night alone in the office has Roman and his assistant escalating their tension past a point of no return. The aftermath of which leads to confessions that will change the trajectory of their relationship forever.

Genre | Angst, Fluff, Porn With Plot

Content | anxiety, biting, blood, bondage, choking, crying, dom/sub tones, degradation, dirty talk, mentions of past physical abuse, power struggles, thigh riding, sadomasochism, slapping, spitting

Word Count | 8.5k

A/N: Y’all this fic is fuckin’ filthyyyy… but like in a romantic way??? I wasn’t going to share it but my best friend insisted. If y’all hate this I volunteer as tribute for boar on the floor lmao

Roman Roy’s Office | 10:33 pm

He was sprawled out across the couch as if this were his family’s private estate. It might as well have been. The building’s climate control always seemed to be blowing a peculiar air. One that felt like his father breathing down the back of his neck at all times. Left calf draped over the backrest, right hand cradling a whiskey, and head tilted back over the armrest. His once-slick hair now hung limp, with loose strands reaching for the carpet below. His upside-down gaze willed me to stop my attempts at meeting our deadline and to focus solely on him instead.

My bank account's dwindling had my morals emaciated. They’d weakly played tug of war with my last braincell when I'd accepted Roman’s job offer nearly two years prior. About 6 months into being his assistant, I found myself earning another role: his best friend. His only friend. My typing picks up speed as I contemplate what level of fucked-up I had to be in order to actually enjoy this job. I decide it must have been top-tier when my thoughts drift to the one Roy that had me feeling this way.

In the past 22 months, I came to understand Roman better than anyone else ever had. He somehow wormed his way into gaining just as much insight into me as well. It made me feel strangely protective over him. Oddly enough, he seemed to reciprocate. We still rarely aloud ourselves vulnerability in the presence of the other. We much preferred self-immolation. I don’t think he ever intended to grow so attached to me. He certainly would never admit to it. If you had asked me if the feeling was mutual, I’d lie through my teeth.

I loved him madly.

I don’t exactly know when or how it happened. I do, however, vividly remember when I first realized he held something soft for me.

Siena, Italy | 4:21 am

He was drunk off his ass, his head resting on my shoulder. He had been leaning into my frame for support long before he even needed it. Roman mumbled something about liking me because I was the only “sad sack of shit” in the office who could make him laugh. I asked him why I was a sad sack and not just a regular sack. He blew out a huff of air, causing his lips to trill. The sound was quickly preceded by the flipping of his wrists in a few circles.

“Isn't it obvious?” I nudged my shoulder against his head.

“Because I work for your sorry ass?”

He clumsily tapped the tip of my nose with his right pointer finger, nearly blinded my left eye in the process.

“Bingo, bongo, banjo.” The nonsensical words tumbled out and the rest of his drink tumbled in. “Itstheeyes.” I’d been unable to make out the slurred syllables mumbled just under his breath. For all I knew, they could’ve been Latin for ‘bastard’.

“What?” He dropped his now-empty glass into a historic fountain as we passed. I stopped to try and fish it out, but he dragged me away. I remember wondering if he had made a wish on it in his drunken haze. Rich and careless enough to pretend it was a penny. Maybe that had been why he was so adamant about me not retrieving it. My mind wandered as I pondered what Roman could have possibly wished for. His father's approval? An endless supply of luxurious Korean face creams? A pair of stunning Italian supermodels to lean into instead of me?

Tripping over his own two feet, I instinctively gripped his bicep. Stubborn as ever, he shoved me and muttered something along the lines of 'fuck off'. God forbid he’d take my help. Throwing my hands up, I left him to walk alone a few steps ahead of me. He weaved for a while before slowing his pace until he could lay his head back on my shoulder.

A beat passed, where the only sound was the soft crunch of our shoes against the weathered cobblestone. I caught one of his bleary eyes peeking over at my face. Content with whatever it was he found, he nodded to himself.

“Yep.” He popped his lips on the 'p' and absentmindedly kicked a pebble from our path. “It's the eyes. Sad sack of shit eyes. You've got 'em.” The laugh that had left me seemed much too loud as it ricocheted off every crumbling brick ahead of us. Roman smiled proudly for a moment. “I love your laugh.” The words were said mostly to himself. My cheeks warmed considerably.

“Really? It's obnoxious as all hell.” His brows furrowed, and he shook his head.

“No, it's fuckin’—fuck off. No, it's not.” He kicked another stone. “It's pretty. Pretty like… like your face.” Pretty. “Nothin’ like a hyena.” Hyena? “I think I'm gonna puke.”

He did.

Roman’s Office | 10:47 pm

“Hi.” A small voice lounging across from me pulls my attention. I look up from the computer and rest my head in my hand, my elbow propped on his desk.

“Hi.” I smile softly with a raised brow.“Need somethin’?” The grin that breaks across his features is almost childlike. His big brown eyes could even be mistaken for innocent; I knew better.

“As a matter of fact…” Extremely happy to have garnered my attention, he pulls himself to a sitting position. “Yes!” With a swift motion, he slams his whiskey onto the coffee table. The sharp sound of glass on glass reverberates throughout the room.

“Yes?”

“Yes?” His voice drops into a cartoonish impersonation of my own. His hand was still clasped around his drink for some reason. Flipping his face up to me with a saccharine simper, he adds, “Will you kindly suck my cock?”

“Will you kindly go fuck yourself?” My impression of him was just as cartoonish as his of me. The hand holding my head returns to typing. Groaning loudly, he lets go of his glass to dramatically fall back into the couch.

“Will you? ‘Cause I’m fuckin’ bored!” He drags out his words until they turn to whine. “This is fucking boring. Aren’t you bored?”

“Yes, you’re extremely boring.”

“Hurr-hurr.” He mocks while crinkling his nose. “I’ll have you know I’m anything but and am widely known as delightful company.” A snort escapes my nose and Roman smiles.

“Really? I thought you were widely known as a terrible person.” He rolls his eyes as I quote his cousin.

“Yeah, yeah fuck you.” He gives me the finger. I flip him off in return. “The fuck does Nosferatu fuckin’ know anyways?” The nickname makes me chuckle and has Roman mimicking Greg. “Oh, I—I couldn’t help but—couldn’t help but notice that my gargantuan height may be alarm—alarming the schoolchildren. I—is that why Iverson is um c—crying? Or is he like, I—I mean, is he… y—ya know… special?”

The laughter still bubbled up uncontrollably even as I tried maintaining focus on the task at hand. My passive interest towards Roman was annoying him to no end.

“Come on! I want entertainment! Entertain me, woman!” I roll my eyes. A cinnamon tinted stare was steady burning apertures into my features, willing me to stop ignoring him. “Come—Come on…” His hands outstretch in my direction, middle and index finger beckoning quickly. “Come show big daddy watcha got.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, my typing stops and I fully turn my attention towards him. His face contorts in a grimace already knowing what was to come. My brows raise as I slowly repeat his words back to him.

“Come show big daddy what I got?” Roman’s hands drag down his face and he groans loudly as soon as big leaves my mouth.

“Oh, fuck y—shut the fuck up.” He sinks lower into the couch with high hopes of it swallowing him whole. The smile that breaks across my features is downright malevolent. I couldn’t recall having ever seen him this embarrassed. Surprising, considering all the lewd shit he spews at me daily. There was something sick inside me that enjoyed it. The urge to play cat rather than mouse overtakes me.

“No, no, no. I just want to understand you clearly, Mr. Roy.” Our dynamic had never been much of a professional one. I couldn’t recall the last time I had addressed him so formally but I wanted to really get under his skin. Oddly enjoying my place in its prickled embrace. Rising from my chair, I place both palms on the desk and lean forward with a pout. “Are you saying you wanna shut me up with your cock, big daddy?”

“I’m going to fucking kill myself.” He was pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Aw! Weawwy, Daddy? Jus' 'cause I won't suwck yo big thick cock?” At that, a cushion flies towards my head. I narrowly catch it as I’m doubling over in laughter. He’s standing now, hands overtly animated.

“I swear to GOD, I’m going to fucking—fuck! Fuck you! Out the window!” He’s angrily pointing towards the giant window panes beside him. “I’m going to throw you out the fucking window!”

“Oh wow, you’re gonna fuck me out the window?” His face was the deepest shade of crimson I had ever seen it.

“If you don’t shut the fuck up, I swear to Christ I’ll—“

“You’ll what?” I was doing a piss-poor job at stifling my laughter.

“I just fucking told you. Ass through glass.” He dismissively waves a hand in the air.

“Bullshit.” Finally looking at me, I cross my arms. His eyes flicker to my chest. “You don’t have the balls.”

“Are you saying I don’t have the balls to murder you?” The words come out in a bemused laugh. “I could murder the fuckin’—murder the shit out of you. Easily.”

“Okay.” With a shrug of my shoulders, I feel a dark coil in the back of my mind start to twist. “Prove it.”

“Prove it? You want me to—to what? Throw you through the goddamn window right now?”

I smirk back at him with a shrug, an inkling I had about him spilling to the forefront of my mind. It colors my vision and stains my tongue. If there was ever a time to find out if my suspicions held true, for some reason, I decided that now was the time. The office was definitely empty at this hour, and the privacy blinds were drawn, so no cameras. Risky as all hell, but if things go south, maybe I could play it off as riffing. I could be quite the convincing liar when I needed to be. My mother saw to that.

“See? I knew it.” With hands on my hips, I tilt my head to size him up. My tone shifts into something silky as sin. “You won’t do shit.” The air begins filling with static causing Roman’s lips to twitch. “You and I both know it. Don’t we…” I slide out from behind the desk, feeling taller as I grow closer. Feeling bolder seeing him swallow. “Romulus?” Using his father’s nickname for him causes his nostrils to flare. A clench in the jaw, a quick exhale. I fucking knew it. “So why don’t you just…” Fully standing in front of him now, I look down with a smirk “sit the fuck down and shut the fuck up for once in your life.”

The air was now overcome with static. Thick and heavy. The subjugated desire etched into his features felt so familiar to me. While I had never seen him this way, or anyone else for that matter, I myself had given that look many a time. That inkling I had was no longer an inkling. It had grown roots that smiled with wicked teeth; I was right.

The electric silence between us started to prick at my skin. My bottom lip twitches as it fought against every instinct to fill the silence with some form of an apology. To try and turn my sudden shift from dominance back into normalcy. His eyes dart to my mouth immediately; he knows.

“Make me.” His head slowly tilts upwards, as do the corners of his lips. The heat that had been slowly brewing between us for well over a year licks up my thighs. He was sneering up at me as we stood toe to toe. His burnt espresso eyes had my mind spiraling in their steam. The look on his face said everything. He saw me, he had me, he called my bluff, he won.

No.

My hand wound itself in the silky hair at the nape of his neck and I use it to jerk his head back. His jaw immediately goes slack. Something akin to a whimper escapes his throat. Surprise has my brows raising and Roman feeling embarrassed. His heavy lids fall and he turns himself away. Reaching up with my free hand, I grip his jaw until he’s facing me once again.

“Look at me.” He does in an instant and I’m flooded by a mixture of emotions. Relief, power, love. I never want to forget how he looks beneath my hands. The way his pupils eclipse the hazel of his eyes. The way his freckles scatter under the pinkish hue of a blush. The way his lips part slightly as his breath shakes out across them. Just as my eyes dance across his every feature, his do mine. Is he etching my features into his own memory?

He attempts to lean forward but I hold him steady. Roman wanted to kiss me but I wanted to tease. I press my lips beside his mouth before trailing them along the smooth path of skin leading to his ear. Sucking his skin into my mouth, I bit gently. A soft sound of content slips from his lips, so I trace up the shell of his ear with my tongue. Upon my return, I bite down once more; harder this time. Just as my teeth release him, the fist tangled in his hair gives a sharp tug. His hum bleeds into a moan that has me squeezing my thighs together. A cool plume of air billows past my lips along the now damp skin; goosebumps erupt immediately. I slide my hand from his jaw until my fingers wrap around his throat to hold him.

“Do you like this, Rome?” The soft whisper has him murmuring his satisfaction. “Come on…” I lightly squeeze his throat. “Be a good boy and use your words.” When I pull away to look at his face, I find his lids are nearly shut.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows in an attempt to steady himself. It doesn’t. “Y-yes, I like it.” He could barely look me in the eyes and it made my stomach flip in the best way possible.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ pretty like this.” The words slip out before I have the chance to stop them. He inhales sharply, and the air seems to rattle through his skull. His eyes quickly leave mine as his face warms considerably. My heart beats as if it were trying to rip itself from my chest and collide with his. The blood rushing in my ears was chanting 'I love you' over and over again. My teeth dig into my cheek until the taste of blood envelops my tongue. I'm raging a war with my own body in silence. This newfound power was locking talons with my own subjugated nature and death spiraling through the emotion in my chest.

His pulse was racing underneath my thumb. My voice cascades over his flushed skin as I let feather light kisses rain upon him. His first name glides along the tip of his right cheek, his last over the tip of his left. Hovering just out of his reach, I whisper into his open mouth.

“Tell me what you need.” He desperately tries to press his lips into mine but I just pull back. He grunts in frustration.

“Just fuckin’ kiss me already.”

“No.” Releasing my grip, I shove him into the couch. He trips backwards, gracelessly collapsing into the cushions. I climb onto his lap with my knees pressed to either side of his hips. With one hand, I weave my fist around his tie and pull him to me. My other grips his jaw tightly. “You wanna try that again?” His jaw clenches beneath my fingers. His eyes were wild as they flared up at me. Suddenly, his hands lock onto my hips, hard. He pushes his face into my fingers until the tips of our noses bump together.

“I said, just fucking kiss me and I meant do it now.” His words were caught somewhere between a hiss and a growl. He never could handle the word no, so his response shouldn’t have surprised me, but it did. The power I’d been holding over him was now leaking through the lace under my skirt. My thighs instinctively flex around him and it has him digging his fingers in harder. A liquid heat spreads through my chest at the thought of later seeing the bruises he was surely leaving behind.

“Well?” My teeth clench and the hand holding his jaw twitches. The attitude lacing his voice drug it’s nails up my spine as I’m reminded of how entitled he could be. He wasn’t supposed to be the one making demands anymore. His smile twitches as a darkness blooms behind his glee. “You wanna hit me don’t you?” My grip loosened; my lungs suddenly feeling like he held them in his fist.

“W-what?” I didn’t want to hit him. Did I? He was selfish, he was arrogant, and he could be so goddamn cruel. Still, the urge to physically harm him was something I had never once encountered. Knowing the history of his childhood and having bared witness to his father’s present day violence against him had made me hyper aware of the constant pain pulsing below his surface. My eyes rapidly blink as they search past his burning stare and into the darkened crevices of his soul.

Oh—he wanted me to hurt him.

His need for it radiating from the blackened pits to scald me. It scared me. It scared me because it felt dark. It felt wrong. But it scared me the most of all because suddenly in this moment, I wanted to. “I-I don’t-“

“Shut the fuck up.” Again, my teeth clench and my grip retightens on his jaw. His smile grew. Mother fucker knew what he was doing. He was basking in it.

He reaches for my hand wound in his tie, quickly unraveling before bringing it to his throat. His own then slide towards my ass. Gripping tightly, he pushes me down against his length to make sure I felt how badly he wanted this. He throbbed against my center; he wanted it bad. “Listen to me. You’re gonna let go of my jaw and you’re gonna fuckin’ slap me, aright?” I nod and release him. “Fuckin’ hit me.” As I draw back my palm, his tongue peaks out to wet his bottom lip.

Slap.

My palm makes contact and brushes across his cheek. It was a sad attempt really. Weak. Even though I knew he wanted it, needed it, something inside held me back.

I was still scared of harming him.

“Are you fucking kidding me? Come on!” He roughly digs his fingers into my ass, significantly harder than before. “I said fucking slap me!”

Crack.

I slapped him. Hard. His face jerks to the side. My hand stung as it instinctively goes to cover my mouth in shock of myself. His lips twitch before slowly turning up in a demented grin. A bloom of red seeps out from his bottom lip and his tongue slides across it. With the taste of his own blood, his smile widens. He laughs softly to himself and I slowly lower my hand.

“There she is.” His voice low, a rumbling purr. “You fuckin’ bitch.” The hand I had just used to strike instantly flies into the mess of his hair; our lips collide. A groan escapes, but from which of us—I didn’t know. The metallic taste of him fueled me. It felt frantic, bruising, needy. We pushed ourselves into each other as if we were feral creatures, held captive and starved. Feeding on something we had buried deep inside only to be found behind the teeth of the other. Sucking his tongue into my mouth causes him to moan and set me ablaze.

I force our mouths apart with a pull of his hair; desperately needing to catch my breath and clear my head. Panting heavily, we stare into the depths of the other in quiet disbelief. This was really happening.

“You sure you want this?” I needed to hear him confirm that he did, in-fact, want to go where we were obviously heading. I knew Roman long enough to know he had serious intimacy issues. Their seeming lack of presence in this moment had me in a whirlwind. He pressed himself into my center once again, his nails bruising crescents into my skin.

“What do you fuckin’ think, dumbass?” I let go of his throat and dig my own nails into his jaw to grip him harshly. He openly smiles with swollen lips.

“Tell me then. Tell me exactly what you want.” His expression falters and his jaw tenses beneath my fingers, eyes flickering from mine.

“You know what I fuckin’ want.” His words seep through gritted teeth. I press my forehead to his. Ever so slowly, I begin rhythmically grinding my hips down upon him. The friction causing his eyes to slip shut. A loud groan escapes from somewhere deep within his chest.

“Roman, I swear to God I’ll stop.” He doesn’t say anything so I still my hips. Umber eyes shoot open and he tries to move me himself. I won’t budge. “I will get up and I will fucking leave you here like this. Pathetic and alone with nothing but your hand.” As the words leave my mouth, so do my hips leave his. His brows snap together and tries in vain to pull me back down again. Still, I don’t budge. “I will walk out this door and you will never fucking see me again. Is that what you want?” The threat was hollow but said with a bite that had shaken me. I was falling into this role a little too easily, a little too well.

He gapes up at me when I completely let go of him. Placing my hands on his shoulders, I attempt to push myself off. It’s him who doesn’t budge this time. He yanks me back down with every ounce of strength his small frame contained. The sudden action has all the air escaping my lungs. With a hand clasped to the back of my neck, he seizes me into a searing kiss.

“Whatever you want.” The words frantically rush into my mouth. “I don’t care.” Fighting against the grip on my neck, he finally gives. I pull back to contemplate his words. Tilting my head slightly, my gaze falls to his tie. An idea begins forming as I slowly untie the silk. My nimble fingers unbuttoning his shirt has him intently studying my face. Whatever I want.

Cupping his warm face in one hand, I smear the blood of his bottom lip with my thumb. He parts his mouth and sucks it in. With my other, I reach for Roman’s and slide his own thumb into my waiting mouth. As I swirl my tongue around him, Roman’s eyes darken and he sucks me harder.

Pulling from his lips with a pop, I rub my now wet thumb against his nipple. A soft moan is let loose. My tongue continuously plays with him inside me. He shudders as I pinch the bud beneath my fingers before doing the same to the other. Letting go of his hand, I reach forward to pinch both simultaneously and he groans loudly.

My cheeks hollow around his thumb as he slips it from me. He drags it down my bottom lip and stares intently. Transfixed by my spit glistening in the incandescent light. Cupping my jaw, he pulls me forward to replace his thumb with his tongue. That familiar groan returning when I suck him in. His other hand tangles itself into my staticky waves and he kisses me with everything he has.

“Give me your wrists.” The order was partially muffled against his mouth.

“Huh?” The question was mumbled into my lips.

“I said,” Threading my fingers into his own hair, I pull him back. “give me your fucking wrists.” With a dramatic tug, his tie is jerked from underneath his collar in a rush. He sat still, blinking up at me. The walnut shells of his eyes fall into my hands. There was a slight apprehension, a nervousness to them. “Do you trust me, Rome?”

“Y-yeah.” His voice was hushed as he presents his hands to me and I slowly start wrapping the silk around his wrists.

“We can stop at anytime. You know that, right? Just say the word and I’ll stop immediately.” My reassurance seems to irritate more than comfort. He rolls his eyes with a tilt of the head.

“Would you fuck off? I’m fine.” A crease digs itself into the bridge of his nose and my actions immediately still.

“I’m not going to fuck off unless I know that you know that you’re safe with me, okay?” This dominate role was far from the submissive one I was innately familiar with. We obviously had never discussed boundaries and I didn’t know where the lines were anymore. “I need you to know you can speak up. That I’ll stop the second you tell me to.” Roman looks like he’d rather get a root canal than continue this discussion, but I don’t care. This was far too important. “I need you to know that your comfort is important—that your feelings matter.”

“I fucking know it, alright?” He snapped before groaning and throwing his head back. “God, what the fuck else do you need to know before you just shut the fuck up and get on with it already?” My hand quickly finds its way to his throat with a squeeze. He seems more than pleased by this response.

“Do you wanna fucking cum?”

“Clearly I wanna fuckin’—“ My other hand slaps over his mouth and I can feel him smiling underneath my palm. Roman was gladly trying to piss me off. He was itching to see me lose control; yearned to meet the creature locked inside me. The wicked one I never acknowledged or came near; the demon only he could see. She bathes me in the blood of solidified suspicions.

Roman didn’t want my empathy.

Roman wanted my cruelty.

“Then are you fucking stupid? If you don’t shut the fuck up I’ll make damn sure to have you crying like a little bitch before I even think of letting you cum.” His eyes blackened as he watches my succubuss unhinge her jaw to swallow me whole. “Got it?” He nods quickly. Rapid bursts of air shoot from his nose across the back of my hand. “And lose the fuckin’ attitude.” Removing my hand, I slap him across the mouth; handing myself over to his desires completely.

Having finished binding his wrists and setting them behind his head, I rise from the couch. Standing between his ankles, I unzip my skirt and let it fall to my feet. The muscles in his forearms flex. His tongue peaks between his lips as he gawked at the damp lace between my thighs. Sliding my finger below his chin, I tilt his head until he meets my eyes.

“You know what I want, Roman?” My hand takes home around his throat once again. Now having his full attention, I feel him swallow as he shakes his head. His excitement was palpable. Settling my right knee between his thighs, I nudge it gently against his hard length. His nostrils flare with a sharp inhale. “I want you to watch me get myself off on your thigh.” He groans loudly. I couldn’t tell if it was out of desire, frustration, or a mixture of both but the response delighted me nonetheless. Placing my left knee to the other side of his thigh, I fully seat myself upon him. “Knowing there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

“Fuck.” Slowly grinding against the fabric of his thigh, my lashes flutter at the sensation. A soft moan escapes me before I can stop it. I was dripping wet and could already feel myself swiftly ruining his ostentatiously expensive pants.

“How does it feel Roman? To have me use you like this?“ A whimper meets my ears. His eyes transfixed on my clothed center sliding roughly against his thigh. There was a fire beneath his skin and he was entranced by the sight of kerosene being poured upon it. “To ruin you like this?” His smokey gaze flickers up to mine and I use the moment to grind myself harder against him. The rough friction elicits another moan from me, louder this time. “This is all you’re good for—” My final word comes out in a whine causing Roman to tear into his bottom lip hard enough to draw more blood. “Tell me. How does it feel?” I nudge my knee into his throbbing member once more and the deepest groan ripples through his teeth. His arms jerk against his binds as I use my free hand to sharply twist his nipple. “Answer me!”

“Good! It feels—Fuck.” The sentiment came out hoarse and husky. He shoves his head back into his tied wrists, thrusting himself against my knee. “Feels so f-fuckin’ good.” Digging my thumb into his pulse point, I slide my knee back. He whines; all hopes of friction dashing in an instant.

“No. You don’t get to cum until I say you do. Got it, you demented little fuck?” He’s a whimpering mess beneath me; eyes wide and watery. I wanted to drown myself in the sight and never touch the light of day again.

My thong bunches to the side from the aggression in my movements. Now fully bare against him, a shiver rushes through me as my clit kisses the luxurious fabric of his thigh. I wasn’t going to last much longer.

“If you don’t fucking behave I swear to God I’ll leave you like this—tied up and soaking for whoever to find.” The bite in my threats were losing their edge. My voice lost somewhere between a moan and sigh. An impending orgasm flicks it’s tongue at the base of my spine.

“Wouldn’t want it to be your father who finds you like this, would you?” A mangled whine shakes itself from his throat and has me smiling.

The blood seeping from his parted lips seem to glitter under the city light of his windows. I flatten my tongue across his jaw and drag it up his chin until my mouth fills with copper. The taste causes a sigh to slip from my mouth into his.

“You’re close. I-I can feel it.” His voice tight and high-pitched as he starts to slightly bounce his leg. “You’ve f-fucking drenched me.” The jolting of his thigh into my clit has my head falling into his shoulder; grinding harder and faster against him. The nails of my right hand embed themselves into the skin of his waist. A carnal mosaic of the flesh born below my grip. I was at the brink. “I-I wanna feel you cum.” He’s whining as he starts to bounce his leg faster; face buried in my hair. His shaking breath against my cheek has my entire body erupting in goosebumps. “P-please lemme f-feel you cum.” His beg hitches to an even higher pitch. His thigh nearly vibrating under me, desperate pleas rippling through me. Every nerve ending in my body felt ablaze.

It was all too much.

A scream rips from my lungs and I sink my teeth into the flesh of Roman’s shoulder. He tasted of salt and brimstone. My nails frenetically scratch into his skin as my thighs tremble and squeeze. Groans barrel up from his chest to mingle with my own. My release shatters through me with a blinding intensity I had never experienced before. I was overflowing; drenching his thigh to seep into his soul.

The heaving of our chests pressed tightly together slowly lulls me back down again. My fingertips absentmindedly painting shapes into his skin with the blood I’d drawn from his waist. Sparkles of light and voids of soot twirl across my vision. An indention of my teeth remained etched into his shoulder. He shudders when I press a soft kiss onto the bruised skin. My head falling heavy when it replaces my mouth to lean into him.

I’m suddenly reminded of Roman’s own much needed release upon finding his hips desperately grinding circles into empty air. He’s whimpering; body begging. My hand still cradled his throat so I languidly brush my thumb along his pulse point. His heart was racing.

“Do you need to cum, Roman?” A loud, high-pitched whine answers me.

“Please.” The word comes out in a choked sob. “I need—“ He was fighting against his binds, the silk digging painfully into his wrists. “Please.” He frantically presses open mouth kisses into any inch of my skin that he could reach; pleading with glassy eyes. “Please lemme cum.” I leave his throat to gently cup his cheek and smile softly before pulling back from him. “No—“ He stops himself when I thread one hand into his hair and place the other bloodied one atop his chest.

“You gonna cum your pants for me, Romie?” I take my sweet time sliding my palm towards where he needs it most. “Like the needy little slut that you are?” The whispered words were dripping in ghost pepper honey that had him swallowing. “Are you that desperate? That pathetic?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out in a quiet quick rush of air. “Y-yeah, I am.” My hand finally reaches his pulsing length and it twitches beneath my fingers. He immediately ruts against my palm and I squeeze him before jerking his head back.

“Stop.” He clenches his teeth but surprisingly does. Tensing beneath me, using every ounce of self control to still himself. He was trembling beneath my grasp. Frustrated tears caressed his lashes and began streaming down his flushed cheeks. His breath was coming out hard and shallow through flared nostrils.

A memory flashes through my mind: Roman’s captivated stare watching his glistening thumb press into my bottom lip.

“Open your mouth.” Again, he follows my orders instantly. Hovering my face above his, my lips purse with a drop of spit. He catches it with a moan that I immediately kiss into my mouth. “Cum.” My voice drops just above a whisper against his raw lips. “Make a mess of yourself.”

He instantly begins fucking himself roughly into my grip. The heat of his flesh searing me through the fabric. Grunting into my open mouth as I tug his hair into the cushions just below his wrists. His hands opening and closing before locking into tight fists. “Look at me.” His eyes shoot open. “Such a good boy for me.” A familiar emotion swirls through the sliver of hazel around his pupils. His lids flutter as he fought with everything in him to keep himself rooted in my gaze. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Roman.”

His hips shoot from the couch as he explodes and spreads me open across his thigh. The sensation causes my breath to catch in my throat. A gravely yell rips from the deepest parts of himself and tears apart every muscle in my body. He pours everything he has into the fabric beneath my hand with wide eyes never leaving mine. He collapses hard with shuttering breaths; body limp and twitching.

I release him to bring my palm to my lips; the slightest bit damp from him. My tongue paints his taste into my memory with pupils blown. Jaw slack, he watches intently through heavy wet lashes. His muddy eyes fill with that same emotion I had seen from him earlier.

“Lemme taste you.” The request was nearly silent but it rattled me like a wail. If I was any further from him I wouldn’t have heard it, but I did and couldn’t believe he had asked. Lifting my hips slightly, I run two fingers through my sensitive folds and shiver. He immediately takes notice and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips.

My fingers tremble as they rise towards his mouth. He inhales deeply before parting his lips for me. Slipping into the velvet of his mouth, his eyes flutter shut. His pointed tongue runs up between their gaps before flattening to drag back down. He was savoring every drop as if he were a starved man lost at sea. An involuntary hum reverberates from his throat into my skin and his cheeks seem to darken even more. He playfully bites down with sparkling eyes when I slip my fingers from his warm mouth.

The sight had the blood pounding in my ears beginning their familiar chant: ‘I love you, I love you, I love you.’ It overwhelmed me and I couldn’t help but pull him into one last searing kiss. Tasting myself on his tongue had my head spinning. Here on my knees, I prayed to a godless sky that he could taste my heart overflowing into his mouth. Cupping his cheeks in both hands, my thumbs brush away the damp paths left by his previous tears. His forehead suddenly creases beneath mine.

“You okay, Rome?” He shakes my hands from his face and turns away from me. My own brows knot together in worry.

“I’m fine.” His face further contorts upon hearing how his voice cracked. It might as well have cracked my ribs right along with it. He clenches his jaw before gnawing at the inside of his cheek. His hands form into tight fist behind his head. He was trying not to cry again.

My fingers twitch in my lap and it takes everything in me not to wrap him in my arms. Instead, I reach for his wrists and bring them forward. They felt heavy and limp in my hands. Right as I began my attempt at untying them, a small sniffle brings my attention back to Roman’s face.

“It’s okay if you’re not okay, you know?” I try to gently reassure him but it only deepens the tortured disgust in his features.

“I said I’m fucking fine.” The words are spit with a venom that eats through to my bones. Feeling me search his feature has him crumbling before me. Fresh tears immediately start spilling down his cheeks and into the pits of my soul. I couldn’t help but reach for him. He surprisingly lets me cup his cheek, so I gently turn him to face me. His eyes squeeze tighter below my lips as I lightly kiss their corners. The small gesture of affection has a mangled sob ripping from his chest. Fully burying his face into my hand, he lets himself weep into my palm.

Brushing back the strands of hair sticking to his sweat, I feel my own eyes filling with tears. Refusing to let myself cry, I leave his hair to clumsily attempt untying his wrists with one hand but the knot had grown significantly tighter. No doubt from Roman constantly pulling against it all this time.

“Hey, Rome?” He responds with a mangled sound in the back of his throat. A desperate need to comfort and free him started anxiously clawing at my throat. “Listen, I know you’re totally fine and everything but I’m actually not.” His watery eyes glance to me, not registering that I’m joking. “The she demon that possessed me, she—the bitch was a Girl Scout from hell. This knot’s tighter than a goddamn hangman’s noose.” Roman pulls his face from my hand while rapidly blinking. The sounds of grinding metal fill my ears and their smokey scent tickles my nose. I flash him a goofy, albeit nervous, smile and the gears inside his head finally click into place.

“You’re a fucking idiot.” There was no bite to his words, having spoke them through a bemused chuckle. He wipes his nose with back of his hand and inhales the remnants of his vulnerability. Grateful relief balms the scrapes at my neck left by worry’s desperate claws.

His smile falters when I suddenly get up and leave him; it's as if a burst of panic fills his chest. However, when he watches me pick up a pair of scissors and the joggers from his gym bag, I sense the tension in him ease slightly. It's only when I climb back atop his thigh that he appears fully relieved. The weight of my warmth sinking into him seems to ground him.

After tossing his change of pants onto the cushion beside us, I carefully slide the blade under his tie and free him. The silk had dug in painfully, leaving nearly raw indentions in it’s wake. I mentally make a note to check my purse for some soothing lotion later as my fingers lightly brush across his skin. My thumbs begin rubbing into the muscles of his forearms. Roman was studying my face intently.

“These feel okay?” Shaking out his wrists, he rotates them a few times before letting them fall limp in my lap. It was his way of silently asking me to continue with my actions. He had far too much pride to express his desire for such a tender expression.

“Feels fine.” He fights off a shy smile when my hands pick up where they left off, massaging him gently. “My side on the other hand feels like fuckin’ cruise papers with the way ya shredded me.” He chuckles but I could still hear the residual emotion behind it. I lift the corner of his shirt up to take a look. The sight has my stomach instantly dropping; tangled weeds of angry wounds imbedded deep into flesh. Needles of red hot guilt begin sewing threads of shame up my legs. Looking down, I’m greeted with his blood caked under my nails. Memories of violence and words of degradation take ownership of my lungs.

“Fuck Rome…” My voice cracks and I suddenly feel my own tears holding a knife to my throat. “I’m so fucking sorry.” Roman quickly tears the fabric from my grasp and yanks it down.

“Oh shit. No no no no no—fuck fuck fuck.” His panicked expression made me feel so much worse. The canines of an anxiety attack drag up the nape of my neck like a threat. “I—I was fucking kidding!”

“I shouldn’t have d—done that to you. I—I shouldn’t have hit you. I shouldn’t have said—I didn’t—Rome, I didn’t mean them! The words—I—I’m so sor—“

“Oh dear God, would you fuckin’ stop.” He quickly cut me off but I had already dove to the deep end of a molten lava shame spiral.

“I—I made you fucking bleed Roman!” He rolls his eyes. “Multiple times!” His hands slap themselves onto the sides of my face, pressing hard into my cheeks.

“Yeah and you licked it up and it was the sexiest fuckin’—” I couldn’t open my eyes to look at him. If I looked at him I’d most certainly start crying. “I mean, I’m literally fucking drenched in cum right now.” My mouth was set in a hard line but my bottom lip quivered. “Come on now…” Nope, didn’t have to look at him. Turns out his voice alone could send tears falling. “I was kidding! I liked the fuckin’—fuckin’ feral scratchy shit! It was hot! And—and I told you to hit me! I—I wanted it! I wanted you to say all that fuckin’ nasty shit!” His fingers press into my skin harder as if he could force his sentiments to penetrate my skull. “I…I fuckin’ loved it. Like a lot. Okay?” My head was shaking back and forth trying to gain some control over my emotions, shake free of my tears. Roman didn’t know that though. How could he? I wasn’t speaking. He probably thought my actions were just my way of rejecting him. “Please don’t fuckin’ do this.”

My eyes crack open as I remove Roman’s hands from my face. The knotted look of bewilderment etched into his features summons the childhood phantom of my mother. Taking her disembodied palm to slap me across the mouth and rattle me with shrill screams: ‘You need to pull yourself the fuck together!’ I follow suit, digging the heels of my palms into my eyes.

“Promise?” My question came out pathetic and small. I fucking hated it and I fucking hated crying. I’m being fucking ridiculous. Stupid.

“Again, and I can’t stress this enough, soaking in my own cum right now.” His reassurance comes with a laugh that tugs my frown up slightly.

“I just—I’m sorry. It was one thing in the moment but just like… I dunno. I’ve never done anything like that. I—I don’t know what came over me.” My face felt feverish as the backs of my hands wipe the shame staining my cheeks. “Seeing the aftermath just kinda, it just—The thought of actually hurting you makes me feel fucking sick, Rome.” I feel the back of Roman’s knuckle brush away the tears I had missed. Chancing a look at his face gifted me the softest expression I had ever seen from him. “I never want to cause you any real harm.” My voice sounded almost foreign, weak with emotion and vulnerability. Where did all my bravado go? Oh yeah, it’s dripping down my thighs.

“Well you didn’t, alright? I’m fine. Like completely. A-o-fuckin’-kay over here.” He throws me the okay symbol and tries offering me a reassuring smile but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“But you were crying, Rome.” The smile instantly drops.

“That? No, I wasn’t—“ He shakes his head before scratching at his jaw. “It—it wasn’t because of that.” My brows furrow, and he groans, hands dragging down his face. “Look, I didn’t—I don’t—fuck!” He shakes his fingers through his hair and looks as if he’s about to rip it out. Refusing to meet my eyes, his stare finally settles on my hands lying face up in my lap. “It was your fuckin’—your hands, okay? It was your fuckin’ hands.” My eyes fall from his face and focus on the blood staining my fingertips. So it really was because I hit him. “The way you—“ He sighs. “The way you held me.” Oh. His head falls back as a long frustrated groan escapes him, eyes searching for heaven in the ceiling. “I dunno, okay? It just felt—it felt—“ He couldn’t finish. His eyes fall shut before he continues, his voice even quieter than before. “All I could think about was how you had looked at me.” I swallow before whispering just as quietly as he.

“How did I look at you?”

“I don’t know.” His voice grew thick with emotion once again. He shakes his head and finally meets my eyes; looking so defeated and sad. His pain bled me. “You’re always fuckin’ lookin’ at me like—like—“ Again, he can’t finish. He clenches his jaw like a threat towards the words caught in his throat.

“Like I love you?” His eyes squeeze shut and he turns his face from me once again; hiding himself from my words. I watch him clench and unclench his jaw until courage clenches my own. “Because I do love you, Roman.” Every muscle in his body seemed to tense beneath me, but I couldn’t stop my feelings from shattering their shackles. They’d been locked up for so long that their first taste of freedom sends them sprinting. “I love you so fucking much.” He clenches his fists, still unable to open his eyes and look at me.

I let myself lean into him and lay my head onto his shoulder. His fist start to unfurl and he lets his head fall against mine. A shuddering breath leaves him and he buries his face into my hair, hands tentatively resting on my hips. We sit in silence as I listen to his breathing slowly steadying. Once it had nearly returned to normal, I feel his lips gently press into my temple.

“I love you too.” The words were murmured into me, a heavy sigh follows after them. “You have no fucking idea.” The wilted buds of my heart and mind begin to bloom. My arms wrap themselves around him and squeeze him to me tightly. He reluctantly wraps his arms around me as well; slowly tightening his embrace until he’s clinging to my soul. Turning my head I press a kiss into the side of his throat and hear him sigh once again; the weight between us was dissipating.

“I’m sorry for freaking out earlier.” The words he had stuttered out when trying to calm me drift to the forefront of my mind. “I—I liked it too.” The warmth of his skin embraces my shy confession. “What we did together, I mean.” I hear him snort and it has me smiling against him. The air was feeling lighter.

“I’d fuckin’ say so, ya fuckin’ banshee. You shoulda seen how fuckin’ hard you came. I mean—Jesus Christ, you were fuckin’ feral.” I hide my face further into his neck but can’t help the laughter that bubbles up from me. “And now you act all fuckin’ bashful and shit? How the fuck does that even work? You literally tied me up and road my thigh like a buckin’ bronco.” I bite his throat and my body shakes from his laughter vibrating through me.

“Fuck you! I’m complex.”

“Yeah, no shit.” He tangles his hands in my hair and pulls me back to face him. “You’re fuckin’ insane, you know that?” He was smiling as he said it. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“The feelings mutual.” His smile only widens and he bounces his leg. I yelp in surprise, frantically gripping at his arms to maintain balance. He’s giggling uncontrollably. “You’re a sick fuck, Roman Roy.”

“Ooo round two already, thigh master?” He bounces his leg again. I try to slap his chest but he catches my wrist with his freehand and pulls me into a kiss I’m never going to forget. It was different than all the ones we had shared prior. This one was so much softer, so much gentler. Our foreheads rest against one another. His smile against my lips illuminates every crevice once void of light; I was loved.

#this used to be 10k words lol #I’ve rewritten it soooo many times #Roman Roy #Succession #Succession HBO #roman roy smut #roman roy x reader #roman roy one shot #roman roy fanfic #roman roy imagine #succession smut #succession fanfic #succession imagine #succession one shot #mine #can’t believe I’m following up kittens & perverts w/ this filth lmao #it still doesn’t feel perfect but she’s about to confiscate the phone from me if I keep rewriting this lol #cruelty & empathy

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sempersirens · 10 months

Text

a bird in your teeth, I

masterlist

summary: since moving into the neighborhood a couple of years ago, you've become close with the miller family. as a young woman living alone joel is protective of you, and he intends to show you how much so

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, mdni, neighbour!joel, age gap: reader is early-mid 20s, joel early 30s. no break-out. no smut (yet)

word count: ~1k

"Okay, missy. Bedtime!" Slapping your knees, you rise from your armchair to eject the copy of Notting Hill from the Millers' VCR.

You check your watch and curse softly under your breath. 10:06 pm. Joel should be pulling into the driveway any minute.

"Are there really guys like Hugh Grant back in England?" Sarah asks, tossing her quilt over her shoulder and bundling the pillows under her arm.

"If there are, I could never find them."

"That why you moved all the way across the ocean?"

You turned to Sarah, clutching your chest in mock outrage.

"Maybe. I liked the idea of finding a cowboy. Like Clint Eastwood!" You giggled and clapped your hands together. "Anyway, get upstairs before your old man gets home and initiates a Mexican standoff because I let you stay up past nine on a school night."

Smoothing down Sarah's hair, you place a quick kiss on the top of her head before scurrying her up the stairs.

"Goodnight!" She shouted over her shoulder before her bedroom door closed behind her.

Sarah was definitely old enough to look after herself on evenings like these, but since you moved into the neighborhood a few years ago it became routine to watch the teenager whenever her dad was going to be home late. Neither of you minded, you had bonded like sisters over your time spent together, despite your ten year age gap. You got the impression that Joel liked knowing you were both under one roof while he was away.

Ain't no need f'a young woman to be alone too long he would say, always eliciting an eye roll from both you and Sarah.

Living alone wasn't something that bored or intimidated you. On the contrary; independence excited you. The thrill hadn't subsided in the slightest. Texas had been more than welcoming to you since you decided to leave North London for a new life. As soon as you received the scholarship letter to undertake a Ph.D. at UT Austin, your bags were packed and you hailed a cab to Heathrow Airport.

You had, however, been immediately put at ease when you pulled up to your new home and caught a glimpse of Joel and Sarah walking to the truck in their driveway, lost in conversation, wide-eyed and giddy on an inside joke. You watched over time as the two spent their days in a blissful world of their own making, soaking up each other's company as naturally as the sun burns into the tops of your shoulders on a hot afternoon.

It had been an exceptionally warm Friday evening when Joel first knocked on your front door.

"Evening, ma'am." He had spoken, tipping his head slightly with his hands tucked loosely in his jeans pockets. Your palms had instantly turned clammy, internally praying that he didn't reach a hand forward to introduce himself.

"Hey. What can I do for you?" You had just about managed a reply between mediating your quickened breathing and trying to actually speak words rather than babble.

The rest of the encounter felt like it had flown by. Joel had invited you to a barbecue, too many burgers for jus' two people, he had reasoned. No such thing, you'd replied. Like you had needed any incentive to accept his invitation. You spent the evening with your ankles dipped in their paddling pool, belly laughing and wiping ketchup from the corners of your mouth. You'd be lying if you said your stomach didn't flutter every time Joel directed a question or comment solely toward you, or that your breath didn't hitch when you accidentally brushed fingers passing him the bottle opener. But that had been then, and you promised yourself you wouldn't get so Pride and Prejudice about a man you had just met. A single father, no less. As time passed, you spent most weekends together along with Joel's brother Tommy. Barbecues, family get-togethers, birthday parties; you were invited to them all. Weekends bled into weeknights, and you became an extension of their little family, let into their secret language of exchanged glances and inside jokes.

Lines were never crossed between you and Joel, but that knot in your stomach never seemed to fade either. You knew it was just an unreciprocated crush; misplaced gratitude for all the kindness he had shown you. Southern hospitality and charm had that effect.

Pulling you from your thoughts, Joel's truck headlights illuminated the living room. You quickly cleared the bowls of popcorn and bags of M&Ms from the coffee table before heading into the kitchen to refill your glass of water.

Joel's keys turned in the door and you heard his shoes wiping on the doormat. He called your name softly.

"In here." You responded in just above a whisper.

He walked in wearing a smart button-up, the top two undone, rubbing a hand over his stubble.

"Pint?"

"If you'd be so kind, darlin'." Joel sighed, pulling out a stool before tapping the one next to him for you to perch on.

"Date not go so well?"

"Do they ever?" He laughed as you handed him a cold bottle of beer. "Not having one f'yourself?"

"They won't if you keep expecting them to be a disaster. None for me, I need to head out soon. Meeting some friends for a few at a bar in the city."

"They're all fine women. Just got nothin' in common. S'probably me."

It made you feel dirty when Joel came back tipsy. With his guard down and inhibitions numbed, he was so open. It felt like you were taking advantage of him. You had to fight everything inside of you to argue with his self-deprecation. Of course it wasn't him. He was the perfect man. You tried to not show too much pleasure at his string of failed first dates.

"Should've told me y'had plans, sugar. I would've come back earlier so you could get goin'."

You waved his statement away. "It's no problem, the less time I'm there the better. I should probably head off, though." Before you could move to grab your keys, Joel's hand hovered over yours resting on the table.

"Thank you, by the way. I doubt I say it enough." Eye contact with Joel always stirred something inside of you. Those damn brown eyes. You smiled at him, softly.

"You don't need to thank me, Joel. I like spending time with Sarah. You know that."

He shook his head slightly. "S'not just that. I mean for everythin'. If you ever need me, you call. You know that, right? Hate thinkin' 'bout you in that house all alone."

It's not the first time he had said something of the sort. You always assumed it was the over-protective father inside of him, bursting out at the seams. Or maybe his Southern chivalry finding its feet after a couple of beers.

"Thank you, Joel. I appreciate it." You turned your hand in his and squeezed once before making your way to the door. You felt his eyes on you as you walked. You always felt his eyes on you. Sometimes you would be changing in front of your window and be sure you could feel Joel's gaze from across the street burning into you. But whenever you turned around, he was never there.

"I'm sorry your date didn't go well." You said, lingering in the doorway.

Joel scrunched his nose slightly and shook his head.

"I'm not."

a/n: hi guys! this is my first fic uploaded to tumblr lol kind of nervy but hope you guys enjoy. i plan on writing a couple more parts to this! message me for taglist for part two!

dee x

#joel miller x reader #tlou hbo #joel tlou #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #my fic #fanfiction #neighbour!joel #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedrostories #pedro pascal #breakfastatjoels #a bird in your teeth fic #a bird in your teeth

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suugarbabe · 4 months

Text

[Chapter 10]

Word count: ~3.5k

Warnings: panic attack, flashbacks, anxiety, torture, mentions of blood, mentions of violence

Turning around you did your best to avoid the big brown eyes that were following you around the bar at the club. You settled your elbows down on the bar top with a huff, Blaise giving you a puppy dog frown. His eyes reminded you of old brick libraries and vintage books, which was fitting since he was definitely reading you like one at the moment. You stood once more, trying to keep yourself busy and distracted with stocking tasks before the club officially opened for the night. It was your first day back at work since the incident and admittedly you were a little nervous. It wasn’t that you thought Damiano or any of his minions could get you while at the club, you fully understood that the name of the club itself worked as a protection charm against anyone who seeked harm against the family and as all of them had put it over the last several weeks, you were family.

You set the bottle in your hands down harshly, the class clinking on the bartop causing Blaise to jolt out of his trance. “Okay, B, out with it,” you plastered on your own annoyed grimace as he leaned back in his chair. “Dunno what y’mean, luv,” he took the cigarette from behind his ear, using the tip of his wand to light it before taking a deep inhale. Turning his head he blew the smoke away from you both before meeting your eyes once more, a saccharine smile on his face. You rolled your eyes, “I’m serious, B. I can’t take you looking at me like that all bloody night, w’drive me insane.” His smile dropped instantly, shoulders slumping slightly, “M’just worried bout ya Birdie.”

Groaning you leaned your elbows on the bar, “What is there to worry about? This is the second safest place for me to be besides the manor.” Blaise took another long drag, smoke billowing from his mouth as he responded, “Physical safety is not the only thing to worry about, sweetheart. What you went through could break even the strongest of witches, and I know how bloody strong you are.” You walked round the bar, pulling out the seat next to him, “I really appreciate your concern, B, but I promise, I’m fine.” He gave you a look that told you he definitely did not believe you, but he wasn’t going to argue with you. Instead, he stubbed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray in front of him, standing up and smoothing out his blazer.

“Think you’ll be able to manage the bar by yourself tonight?” You looked at him quizzically, “Is Enzo not working tonight? Was kind of hoping he’d be here. I miss bantering with him on bar nights.” Blaise gave a shake of his head, “On business tonight, the lot of them.” You raised an eyebrow in question and Blaise let out an annoyed huff, “I know you know who I mean, but just to be clear I do mean Enzo, Theo and Mattheo.” You nodded your head in thanks with a cheeky smile. You grabbed one of the rags from behind the bar, giving the top a final cleaning before the club was set to open, “Draco left in charge then?”

“Yes, I am. So that means no mucking about,” Draco was strolling up behind Blaise, giving you a playful glare with his words. You rolled your eyes, “And what if I do? Think we all know who’d win in a duel between you and I, Malfoy.” You gave your eyebrows a teasing wiggle. “I’d tell Mattheo, let him deal with you, obviously you listen to him,” there was a double meaning in his words by the smirk adorning his face. Blaise came to your rescue though, “So you’d be a rat, then?” Draco scoffed, “I’m not a rat, Zabini.” Your mouth upturned into a devilish smirk, “Ferrets are part of the rat family, aren't they?” Draco glowered at you, “Fuck you, Birdie. That was like twelve years ago!” You shrugged your shoulders, shouting back at him as he walked towards the office, “People don’t forget!”

Blaise helped you with the final bits of set up for the bar, taking on the responsibilities Enzo usually did, grabbing the kegs and setting them up, testing the taps, flipping down the rest of the chairs, etc. He reminded you again that he was there if you needed to talk about anything and you assured him that you’d be just fine, but appreciated the gesture nonetheless. Patrons started to file in per usual. A few of your regulars came up to the bar first, letting you know how much they missed you. You did as Mattheo had instructed and told them you had ‘been on vacation’ and ‘yes you had such a great time’ and ‘yes the south of France is so lovely’.

Surprisingly you were managing the bar alone pretty well. You weren’t sure if the regulars just missed you, or if you were just really getting into the work today as a means of a distraction. You may not have been completely honest with Blaise earlier. Yes, you were fine, relatively, but thoughts still creeped into your mind, still tried to sneak into your memory. Ever since Theo got hurt, you were pretty good at pushing all the bad aside. His getting injured really put into perspective how needed you were, how important you were to the family. Draco is a good healer, Narcissa taught him well. He was able to heal all of your wounds with minimal to no scarring, except for the one.

Your fingers traced the slightly raised skin just below your hip, your brain going back to what Draco had whispered to Mattheo after assessing the damage done to you when you were captured. “There’s no healing I can do to take that away from her”. You wished you could erase it, just obliviate it all without risk of losing everything. But you knew it wasn’t possible, you knew you had to be strong, had to push through it. And you were doing so, quite successfully if anyone had thought to ask you. You weren’t sure if the others would be proud or scared of how easily you could keep yourself distracted by mindless tasks and work behind the bar. Hell, you were even doing bar service, bringing drinks and bottles to different tables. If the boys could see you now.

The night was essentially moving flawlessly. The closer you got to closing, the more excited you got to tell Mattheo how well you did your first night back. You knew he was worried, they all were, but you were doing just fine. And that’s what you kept telling yourself. That you were just fine. That everything was going to be fine. And then you started to hear it. At first it was just like everything else in the background, something that was sort of going in one ear and out the other. But the rhythm caught your attention. The more you recognized it the more you felt your chest start to tighten. Each time you breathed out it seemed like you were getting less in with your next breath, like a python was wrapped around your chest and squeezing you.

Your skin felt like it was on fire, sweat beading along your neck and down your back. Your peripheral started to become blurry. Each flash of light from the stages had glimpses of Pansy dancing in front of you at the club in London. Your heart rate seemed like it was increasing quickly, each pump and rhythm like it was trying to beat right through your ribcage. You did your best to smile through it, to ignore every raging signal your body was giving you to walk away, find someplace quiet to calm down, to force yourself to forget. You were almost to the table anyway, one of the club’s most expensive bottles in your hand when the lights began flashing on the stage again, and then they flashed red.

Everything was moving so slowly but so quickly at the same time. You didn’t even notice the bottle slip from your grip until you heard the glass shatter on the ground. Mindless babbles and apologies were all fell from your mouth as you bent down to start picking up the pieces, not even realizing you were kneeling in the shards. You nearly jumped out of your skin when a pair of hands enveloped your shoulders. “Shh, luv, s’just me. It’s Blaise, c’mon. Come with me.” His hands gently but quickly lifted you under your arms, leading you towards the back hall and into the office. He led you to one of the bigger chairs, leaning down in front of you.

Your eyes darted around the room, internally knowing there was no real danger around you but not being able to slow your mind down enough to actually convince it that you were safe. Blaise locked his hands on either side of your face, forcing your eyes to meet his, “Birdie, look at me, luv, eyes on me. I’m gonna place my hand on your chest okay?” You nodded, eyes never leaving his. Blaise took one of your hands, placing it on his own chest in a similar manner. Blaise took a deep breath, a massive opposition to your short and shallow ones. “Just like me, Birdie, you can do it.” He took another long breath. You could feel the movement of his chest. The slow rise and fall, the fullness when he took a breath that fully filled his lungs and the small concave when he let it all the way out.

In a short while your breathing started to mimic Blaise’s. “I’m so sorry, B, I just…I don’t know what happened.” He shook his head, “Sweetheart, no. No, no, no, no, s’not your fault. Talk to me, tell me what happened. What’s going on in that brain of yours, hmm?” You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands. Blaise ducked down, forcing your eyes to meet his. A small frown formed on your lips, pulling at his heartstrings. “Once you get it out it’ll hold less power over you.” Your eyes shot to the ceiling, teeth gnawing on your bottom lip. You let out another shaky breath before trying your best to explain the knots in your brain.

“I r-really thought it’d be fine. I just, when that song came on it was like…it was like I was there all over again. Flashbacks blurring my vision until I couldn’t focus and then I couldn’t breathe and I dropped the bottle and…I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, B, I’m-”

Blaise immediately pulled you into a hug, you reciprocating and holding on to him tightly, not able to control the tears that started to fall. “Shh. It’s okay, Birdie. It’s okay. They’re gonna find him. You’re safe now. He can’t sneak in here or the manor and that’s the only two places you’re gonna be until he’s dead.” He held you until you calmed again, asking if you wanted to go home, promising he could find someone else to finish your shift.

You shook your head, telling him you wanted needed to finish it. If anything for your own pride. Blaise used his wand to clean the shards from your knees, you brain having blocked out the wound until it started to be worked on. With a simple wave of his wand the glass and wounds were gone, as was the physical pain. Afterwards, he went back to his booth, striking the song from all playlists and casting a spell to ban it from the establishment.

After the shift Blaise apparated with you back to the manor. You had assured him you were fine by then but he insisted you go together, even waiting at the bar while you finished cleaning the glasses. In the foyer, Blaise checked on you one last time. “I’m fine, B. Really. Thank you for…everything. Do you think we could, ya know, not tell Teo about it?” Blaise looked at you with a sorry excuse for a smile. You rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that meant.

“Birdie. My office. Now.” Mattheo’s voice seemed to reverberate off the marble floors. You glared at Blaise as you turned towards Mattheo. Not satisfied with your pace Mattheo’s voice boomed again, “Faster.” You moved quicker, Mattheo grabbing hold of your wrist and all but dragging you into his office until your arse hit the edge of his desk. As soon as the door to his office closed he turned to you. Walking up both hands cupped your face, brows furrowing, “I knew it was too soon.”

You shook your head, “No, no it wasn’t it was just-just an accident. I’ll be fine for another shift. I promise. Please don’t take it away from me, Matty. I need the distraction.” Mattheo frowned, thumb rubbing gently over the apple of your cheek, “You’re so strong, Princess. But don’t push yourself too far. It’s okay if you’re not like the rest of us. It’s okay that you still…feel things sometimes.” Using your fingertips you swiped the tears brimming your waterline. “M’fine. Really, Teo. But it’s sweet of you to check on me.”

Mattheo leaned in closer, his lips catching yours in a gentle kiss. His lips seemed to convey what he lacked in words, how much he truly loved and cared for you, how much he wanted to protect you. As he pulled away his thumb traced your bottom lip, pulling it down and watching it fall back into place. He placed his hands on either side of your face once more, “I have something to tell you, Princess, but…you’ve got to promise me you’ll stay calm.” You looked into his eyes, the usual onyx color lightened to a deep brown displaying how worried he was to tell you what was on his mind.

You grasped both of his wrists, thumb rubbing the inside at his pulse point. “You can tell me anything, Teo. You know that. Staying calm, I’ll do my best, but I’m not sure what you’d have to tell me that I would freak out about. Not unless you have Damiano locked under the house or something.” You punctuated the end of your statement with a half hearted laugh but the look on Mattheo’s face had it quickly dying on your lips. You felt your face drop, not even attempting to hide the reaction from him as you started speaking quickly, “Matty is he here? Is he here in the manor right now? I need to see him. Let me see him Teo, is he with Enzo? He’ll kill him, you promised not to kill him until I got to see him! Bring me down there, wherever he is, bring me down there right. Now!”

Mattheo grasped each arm tightly, gritting his teeth, “Birdie, you need to calm down. I won’t take you until you’re calm.” Your gaze never left his as you did your best to steady your breathing. Once Mattheo deemed it even and steady he slid his hands down your arms until his fingers locked with yours. “Enzo is with him now with strict instructions not to kill and Theo is there to make sure Enz doesn’t get carried away.” You nodded, assuring Mattheo you were calm and you were ready. In a whirl he apparated the two of you to a space you had never seen before.

You were still at the manor. You’d lived there long enough you could sense when you’d left the grounds and when you hadn’t. The room you were taken to was large, like a hidden room at the end of an underground tunnel or something. The room was made of brick, of which looked centuries old. There were dark colored stains that painted many parts of the room; walls, floors and ceiling. Each wall had a series of different chains and cuffs attached to them, what appeared like rust on nearly all of them.

To the average person it would all seem alarming, but you knew this is probably where Enzo did his best work. Your assumption is proved correct by the scene in the center of the room. Enzo essentially stopped whatever pain he was inflicting at the sound of your arrival, turning to the two of you and seemingly having a silent argument with Mattheo. His movement allowed you to get a full view of the center of the room. In a strong metal chair that was bolted to the ground sat Damiano, or at least you knew that’s who it was.

His face was nearly unrecognizable, one eye swollen shut and black. There were too many nicks and cuts on his face to count, each either red or bleeding. You assumed the shirt he arrived in was originally white but the top half was all scarlet. His ankles were chained to the chair, each wrist chained to the floor. There was little slack, but enough that the chains rattled when his head finally lifted and his good eye locked with yours. You walked closer to him, until you stood right in front of him. Before you even realized what was happening you reared your fist back before launching it forward, the crack of his already broken nose breaking more like music to your ears.

Before you could do it again a pair of arms were wrapped around you, pulling you back a few feet before setting you down. Setting you down was a mistake. In a flash your wand was in your hand, the word leaving your mouth with zero remorse, “Crucio.” Damiano’s head reared back, mouth agape as a blood curdling screech left his throat. The veins in his neck looked like they were near bursting, his arms contorting and straining against the chains on the floor. You broke the spell, the red light disappearing back into the tip of your wand.

Damiano lifted his head once more, making eye contact with you as he spoke, blood falling from lips with each word, “I’ve been wondering when you’d show up, Sunshine.” He licked his lips, the mix of saliva and blood shining against the muscle, “Glad to see our little rendezvous didn’t diminish that fire inside yo-”

“Sectumsempra,” through gritted teeth you landed another spell, lashes and cuts scattering his body. With another flick of your wrist the majority of the cuts were healed. Damiano gasped for breath, the three family members standing behind you all wore matching confused expressions before they heard you speak the curse again, blood flowing heavily from Damiano’s body before you healed the majority of them once more. Theo leaned closer to the two boys next to him, “What is she doing, why is she healing him after inflicting wounds.” Mattheo shook his head, but Enzo knew the answer. “She’s prolonging the torture.”

It was Enzo who eventually pulled you back, handing you over to Theo who held a hand to the back of your neck as you watched Enzo and Mattheo. You watched them continue Damiano’s torture. Watched him continue to bleed. Watched his body slump lower with each spell, each punch. Watched his head roll and muscles twitch and strain as he was hit with the cruciatus curse again, and again. When it seemed like he was finally spent you knew there was only one thing left to do.

“You started something you couldn’t finish, but now it’s finally over. I hope you enjoyed tonight, Damiano. Because it’s going to be your last. You watched as Mattheo took a few steps back, raising his wand and pointing it straight towards Damiano’s chest. Walking up you wrapped your hand around Mattheo’s forearm. His head turned, locking eyes with you, eyebrows raising. The look in your eyes seemed to convey everything you needed, Mattheo nodding. He lowered his wand, stepping back.

In his place is where you stood, hand now gripping your wand tighter than you ever had before. Raising your arm you position mirrored Mattheo’s earlier one, though for everyone in the room the view seemed to hold more intensity. Damiano’s head lulled, seemingly not having the ability to hold it up any longer. The hand that didn’t hold your wand lifted two fingers into the air, Damiano’s head mirroring the action, his swollen and bloodied face now facing yours. You took a deep breath, relishing in the moment you had waited for for the last year, the moment you had dreamt about, had yearned for whenever thinking about your past and what you endured. You spoke steady, and slowly. The calmness in your tone eliciting a chill up even Enzo’s spine.

“Avada Kedavra.”

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star-girl69 · 4 months

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OMG THE LITTLE FAMILY STUFF IS SO CUTE now imagine ivy like accidentally calling the reader amd clarisse mom for the first time OR OR someone (percy) like coming over and being like "hey I don't think this parenthood is a good idea here" (bc just imagine clarisse junior in the future) and ivy is wtf so she starts defending them and being like THOSE ARE MY PARENTS (10 yo vs 12 yo standoff go!!)

LETS GO I LOVE THIS I LOVE THIS FAMILY I LOVE EVERYTHING

the first time ivy calls you mom it’s not on purpose

you just basically are her mom

all she knows is you treat her how a mom is supposed to treat their daughter

you’re probably like dropping her off at arts and crafts class and she casually goes

“ok bye mom see you later!”

cue the tears

you’re screaming and crying and hyperventilating and RUNNING straight to clarisse who is training and she’s like OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED ARE YOU OKAY

and you’re like

“i-i-i-ivy oh my god clar ivy-”

“SOMETHING HAPPENED TO IVY?!?!??!?” protective mom mode activated

“NO SHE CALLED ME MOM”

“oh. OH. SHE CALLED YOU MOM?????”

“I KNOW” 😭😭😭😭😭😭

clarisse is so happy she’s like aw omg she’s a little jealous on the inside but she’s fine she’s fine she’s fine

she’s not fine if you couldn’t tell

but clarisse doesn’t have to wait too long bc the next day clarisse wakes up at like 3am and has to go to the bathroom and little adorable baby ivy sits up too rubbing her eyes and is like

“mom? where are you going?”

she’s about to LOSE. HER. SHIT.

but it’s late and she doesn’t want to overwhelm ivy so she keeps it cool and just says she’s going to the bathroom she’ll be back soon

anyways later you both sit ivy down and ivy is like WOAH WOAH WOAH WHATS HAPPENING

and you’re trying to be professional and adult about it

but you’re like “YOU CALLED ME MOM!!!! YOU CALLED CLAR MOM!!!!!! AND ITS OK!!!!! WE LOVE YOU AND WE ARE YOUR MOMS BASICALLY!!!!!”

ivy is like “I DIDNT EVEN NOTICE BUT I LOVE YOU MOMS”

happy family ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

just to clarify y’all PERCY DOES NOT ACTUALLY THINK CLARISSE AND Y/N ARE BAD FOR IVY ITS JUST THERES TWO OF THEM CAN WE ATTACH A LEASH TO THE LITTLE ONE MAYBE

so let’s pretend it’s just another random rude ass 12 year old who’s name will be…. hm…… mark!

so mark and ivy are like chilling around at the training grounds waiting for their turn and then mark is like “oh my god you’re so bad you can even hold the sword correctly”

ivy is ????? she’s holding it the way clarisse taught her to hold it so what…….

“um? idk…. this is how you hold it dude…..”

and then you come over innocently and you’re like “hi ivy baby you forgot your water i’m gonna leave it right here!” and she’s like “ok mom!” bc you’re her mom and she loves you

so then mark is like “NO WAYYYYY YOU CALL HER MOM????”

“YES BC SHE IS MY MOM DO YOU HAVE A DAMN PROBLEM!?!?!?”

“i just feel sorry for you like your own parents didn’t want you so the best you could get was two random teen girls??? LMAOOOO i bet they’re horrible ‘parents’ too ”

“BITCH IM GONNA-”

ivy may be tiny but she uses that to her advantage and jumps on top of people

so she starts scratching and kicking and hitting screaming “TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK TAKE IT BACK”

bro mark is crying

one of mark’s friends drag ivy off of him and then you and clarisse run over at the commotion

and all you see is this kid crying, another kid holding ivy back- her hairs all messy and she’s kicking and screaming still

the kid very quickly drops ivy when he sees you

you have to THROW yourself in front of her so she won’t attack him again

clarisse just presses the tip of her spear into mark’s armor and he’s like “IM SORRY IM SORRY WAHHHHH WAHHHHHHHH”

ivy is laughing hysterically “THATS WHAT I THOUGHT THATS WHAT I FREAKING THOUGHT YOU LOSER!!!!!!!”

you’re in such shock WHAT HAPPENED TO YOUR PRECIOUS BABY

clarisse is proud but confused

ivy is hugging you, her face pressed in your stomach when clarisse crouches down next to her

“you wanna tell me what happened?”

“well first he said i was holding my sword wrong but I WASNT i was holding it like this the way you taught me and then mom came over and then he started laughing when i called her mom and then he said you guys were probably horrible parents and i was SO MAD so i started attacking him”

ivy rn: 🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

you’re horrified shocked and angry like it’s not an idea situation but ivy is loved and safe what more do they want from you?

you feel kinda shitty bc you love ivy so much but if you’re not what’s best for her than you’ll do anything

clarisse hugs her and kisses her head “good job protecting this family little warrior”

and you’re like “yes ivy you did an amazing job but remember violence is not always the answer”

(clarisse and ivy share their secret look again)

but later that night while ivy is getting ready for bed you’re telling clarisse that you’re concerned, maybe everyone who throws you the dirty looks are right, maybe you’re not what’s best for ivy

clarisse is ???

“ivy…. baby….. uh…. equals…. mine??? ….confused..”

but ivy overhears you and then SHE starts yelling at YOU

“EVERYONE IS SO SAD AND MAD AND I HATE IT LETS JUST BE HAPPY AND YOU GUYS STOP BEING MEAN”

ok 🫡

eventually clarisse expresses it more articulately to you than ivy can, “who cares about what anyone else thinks? i’m happy, your happy and ivy’s happy. everyone else can get punched in the face!”

IVY IS EXCITED

anyways happy family again ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

—-

taglist:

@lvrue @t-wylia @laughingcheese037 @kroumi @urdeadpoet @colezb @rey26 @harmzilla @elliewilliamsbae @amberfreemansburntface @kyuupidwrites @neverwaakeme-up @shark1008 @liballer @heyimadison @nvirskies @pnsteblnme @mar2ss @restellsss @ravisinghs-wife @marsconer @evangelinexo @randomhoex @luvrrish

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue x you #pjo tv show #pjo x reader #clarisse and ivy and y/n: the perfect family

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duckytree · 1 year

Text

current bat games au lore

ok so here is part of what we have so far:

jason is no longer from district 2, he was originally a scrappy orphan from 12; he changed his name to "RED" after lazrus therapy and becoming a gladiator

Nightwing has a notorious reputation in the capitol as vain and bitchy. he constantly gets procedures done to look as young and beautiful as possible and will actively sabotage the new tributes' relationships with the capitol citizens. in reality, he is trying to protect the younger victors from being sexually exploited by putting himself on the front lines as the sex symbol

tim is the newest victor of the games. his mentor was barbara and they are both secretly working for the anti-capitol resistence.

damian is the political baby of a strategic union between talia and bruce to unite their clans without drawing suspicion from the government on why they're working closely. his parents are both big players in the capitol.

the al ghuls are the tinfoil hat conspiracy theorists of the capitol who believe the revolution is nigh. but instead of underground bunkers they prepare for the apocalypse by training their children in several warrior arts

bruce's alter ego is batman, political terrorist who is working behind the scenes to take down capitol corruption (good luck buddy)

the capitol has a capped maximum on how much wealthy citizens can donate as sponsorship because otherwise bruce wayne would sponsor all the kids in an effort for them to live

when jason was thrown into the arena, he had no living mentor and had to fend for himself. batman secretly helped him with tips and advice on how to survive

Nightwing tried to talk bruce out of sponsoring jason in the arena. it wasn't out of cruelty; he just thought it would be a better investment to sponsor a child who is more likely to live instead of a starving little boy from the weakest district bound to die. bruce sponsored jason anyway

bruce's parents were assassinated for the treasonous act of believing district citizens deserved human rights

jason's abundance of sponsorships made him a target in the arena. he got really messed up and had to go through a brutal, traumatic, and experimental rehabilitation called the lazarus project. he came out of it brain damaged and now most of his body consists of lab-grown flesh or robotic parts. (notice his fake eyes and how most of his body is covered up)

the hunger games are like the annual SuperBowl. for the rest of the year the capitol citizens enjoy entertainment like celebrity escorts (Nightwing) or gladiator games, which is basically the WWE but more deadly and no predetermined winner (RED)

gladiators all have a number that is worn by players and fans alike. most gladiators wear theirs on their armour but RED wears his as a corpse identification tag on his ear

tim purposefully makes himself seem boring and unlikable so that the capitol will allow him to go home rather than stay at the capitol like nightwing and RED.

tim is probably on like 10 different government watchlists

damian keeps nightwing around as a friend/babysitter, since he gave every other one he had a mental breakdown

damian keeps jason around as a personal weaponsmith/arms instructor (hired by talia)

talia and bruce have split custody of damian

nightwing and RED are top-celebs in their fields

bruce's name is brucellosis I'm sorry that's just the way it is

bruce stopped sponsoring for a while after jason's injury cause he blamed himself

hunger games sponsors are like gambling or horse race betting. if your sponsored victor lives you get more money back. but it is so costly with such high stakes that most people don't do it

nightwing volunteered for some random kid who he had no connection with because he has no self-preservation and is kinda self sacrificing like that

nightwing's mentor was starfire. he had a massive crush on her and she'd pat his head

RED has a tense relationship with bruce and Nightwing but also trusts them more than anyone else

there are more but they require more context and characters so hang tight. suggestions welcome! just dm me in my inbox

#nightwing #red hood #red robin #robin #batman #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #brucellosis wayne #batfam #hunger games #hunger games au #asks #duckytree

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atom-writings · 7 months

Note

What do you HC England as height wise? I’m pretty happy with 5’9 since that’s the perfect height for me at 5’0 😈 otherwise can I request England with a gn short reader?

hetalia england with a short s/o

0.7k words ~ gender neutral scenarios

tw: none!

a/n: arthur is starting to grow on me so much :sob:

I personally see him as something between 5' 9“ and 5' 10”, so just around what you think!

He's actually quite average, but compared to a lot of other nations, it's easy for him to be teased for being short. So, being with a short S/O would be a big confidence boost for him.

He pretends that he doesn't care about his S/O's height, but it'll be obvious to you that he does. Just through the little things.

Nearly every morning, he greets you with a tight hug from behind as he rests his chin on the top of your head. If he's wearing one of his robes, he'll also wrap that around you.

He's also ALWAYS the big spoon. Regardless of what he wants, he just finds it awkward to be held like that when you're so... small compared to him.

Whenever you're out, he offers you his jacket. He just adores how big it looks on you!

Depending on where you live, he can get a little protective. When you're in a crowd, he always makes sure to hold you close. He doesn't trust others to respect your personal space as much as they should.

“Right, you shut up right now or you're gonna learn to regret-”

“Arthur, it's fine!” You plead, grabbing his shoulder and holding him back, “Let's just leave, okay?”

“I- You want to just let this prick get away with-”

“Yes!”

He turns around to meet your eyes for a moment, his gaze softening as he sees your worried expression. Arthur could only sigh, brushing your hand off his shoulder and taking it in his own.

“You're right, this isn't worth our time. Let's go, darling.”

The two of you began to walk towards the exit of the bar. But before you could get out of earshot, you heard your harasser whistle at you. In an instant, Arthur broke away from you, grabbing the nearest glass off a table and hurling it at the man.

He isn't above teasing you for being short, but he won't push it. It's always little snide remarks that probably you didn't even notice in the moment.

A couple of times he's tried to see if you could wear his clothes from a teenager (AKA THE 12TH DAMN CENTURY!) It didn't work, obviously, but he did laugh a lot at you... so there's that.

But, he'd still never infantilize you. No matter how you look, he loves and respects you all the same. And he expects everyone to do the exact same. You're his darling, after all <3

It wasn't supposed to rain today. At least, that was what the weather app said today. But here you stood, underneath the archway to leave, watching the rain pound the sidewalk.

“Perhaps... I should not have parked so far away.” Arthur breaks the tension.

“Yeah, perhaps.”

“Did you bring an umbrella?”

“Nope. Did you?“

”Not today, no.“

You sighed, but Arthur just chuckled. When you turned to the side to see his face, he looked just absolutely pleased with himself.

”What's so funny?“

”I have a plan.“ He says resolutely, scrambling out of his trench coat. He poured a few things out of the pockets, then turned to you.

He manoeuvred the jacket so it held out like a tarp over himself, “Get under here with me, it'll be dry.”

You guffawed, “It will not be dry.”

“Trust me, it's better than nothing.”

What other choice did you have? You shuffled underneath his arms, pressing up close to him. It was an uncomfortable arrangement, but safe. Like always, with him.

“Alright, are we running, or what?”

He shook his head, ”In a moment, but first...“

”First what?“

”You have to give me a good luck kiss.“

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you turned away, ”That's stupid, and like- people will see!“

”Come on, I won't keep you dry unless you give me a good luck kiss.“

”Ugh, you can't be serious-“ You stuttered out for a moment, ”F-Fine!“

Hurriedly, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek as you stood on the tips of your toes.

”See, now we'll be all good!“

”That was so dumb-“

”Doesn't matter, we're going!“ He laughed, before breaking out into a full sprint, dragging you along with him.

”SLOW DOW- I WASN'T READY!“

#heta tag #hetalia x reader #hetalia imagines #arthur tag #aph england x reader #hws england x reader

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whatudowhennooneseesyou · 1 year

Text

First!Time February: Day 9

Soft!Dom Jeongin x Sub!fem reader

Requested by: @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

Content Includes: praise (so much of it), this is the fluffiest, most cheesiest love-making fic in this series, Jeongin is just being the amazing soft-hearted dom that he is, protected sex (the best sex to have), kissing, dirty talk, banter, teasing, fluff, more of a focus on aftercare.

Word Count: 1.2 K

‘I’m going to go in now okay?’

You felt Jeongin’s lips pressed against your forehead as he hovered over you with your legs hitched around his hips and his hands caging your sides.

‘You sure you’re wet enough?’

The question made you nod eagerly as you adjusted yourself while you’re under him, reassuring him as you do so.

‘You made me cum twice Jeongin, I’m sure I’m wet enough’ You teased and this caused Jeongin to beam at you with a closed smile.

‘Well, it’s your first time you know? I gotta make sure it’s a good one, otherwise you’d never let me hear the end of it’.

You smiled back at the humour and lightheartedness of the situation that Jeongin was creating for you, he knew that the teasing and kind banter would cause your body and mind to relax.

‘True, you got a lot of pressure here babe, you have to rock my world’

Jeongin laughed softly at that remark, his hand rubbing your hip as the corners of his eyes crinkled up in a way that always made you smile.

You jolted slightly as you felt Jeongin swipe his cock in-between your folds, he looked down to collect as much lube and cum as he could, the tip brushing against your clit and causing you to moan lightly.

‘You sound so pretty baby, are you going to moan like that when my cock is inside of you?’

The remark caused you to become mischievous and you raised an eyebrow and smirked.

‘Why don’t you try and find out?’

The comment caused Jeongin to hum slightly and he reached down to place the tip at your entrance, spreading your legs a bit wider around his hips.

‘Ready?’

You nodded and gave him an affirmative smile, lightly holding onto his arms.

‘Ready’.

A loud gasp left your mouth as Jeongin pushed in and your grip on his biceps tightened, your thighs clenching around his hips.

‘You’re doing so good, I’m almost there baby’

The praise followed by the gentle kiss on your mouth eased the tension and your body began to relax slightly and was allowing Jeongin to enter into you further with less resistance.

A deep groan left Jeongin’s chest as he bottomed out completely, his mouth open and lashes fluttering and looking beautiful as ever.

‘Fuck, you sound so sexy’ You told him, ‘I’ve never heard you make that noise before’.

Jeongin let out a shaky exhale as the comment caused him to become distracted slightly,

‘I could say the same for you, you don’t know how beautiful you look right now under me’.

The comment caused your heart to swell and your eyes to soften at his compliment, the energy shifting from banter to something more intimate.

‘You don’t know how beautiful you look on top of me’ You answered back, leaning up to kiss Jeongin passionately and moans from both of you filled the room as he rocked his hips forward, sinking into you further.

‘Fuck, even through the condom you feel so tight and warm’ Jeongin panted against you, his elbows framing your face as he supported himself.

‘You feel so big inside of me baby’

Your head hit the pillow as you closed your eyes and just embraced the feeling of having the love of your life so close with you, around you and inside of you.

The first few thrusts were silent except for a few pants and groans, it wasn’t comfortable but it wasn’t painful and Jeongin’s slow pace allowed your body to adjust.

It wasn’t until about 10 thrusts in that it started to feel good and you moaned loudly, your head tilting back as you started to feel the pleasure.

‘That’s right, moan for me baby. I want to hear how good I make you feel’

Jeongin snapped his hips just a little bit more firmly but you were surprised at the effect it had on you, a shocked gasp filled the air as you held onto Jeongin more tightly.

‘Am I making you feel good baby? Is this what you wanted for your first time?’

You gave Jeongin the reassurance he needed by kissing him feverishly and intertwining your body closer around him.

‘It’s so goood, you make me feel so good, it’s better than I was expecting’

The comment made Jeongin stutter in his pace as the praise hit him like a ton of bricks, his heart clenched with desire at how you trusted him to experience this moment, for him to be your first.

‘You’re taking me so well, I could be buried inside of you all the time, I’ve never felt anything like this before’.

Now Jeongin wasn’t a virgin by any means, he was actually quite experienced but this was the closest he ever came to love-making and it felt so personal and so special.

‘Can’t wait to feel more of this baby, I’m so happy my first time is with you’ You moaned out as you reached up to cup Jeongin’s face, your foreheads touching each other’s.

‘And I’ll be the last person you sleep with because I love you too much for you to leave me, I want you under me-hah! On top of me…anywhere, I’ll fuck you anywhere because you’re mine’.

‘Yes, Jeongin. I’m yours’

‘Always mine, baby’.

The moment ended minutes later as Jeongin released into the condom with a whine of your name, his face buried in your neck and his hand on your hip.

You stroked Jeongin’s sweaty hair as he laid on top of you, the warmth of him felt like a security blanket and you stared up at the ceiling, beaming with joy at how you just had your first time with a man you love and it was enjoyable, it felt good.

‘You okay?’ You heard Jeongin’s muffled words into your neck, pulling himself up so he could look at you.

‘Yeah, I’m okay. I just feel a little bit sore’

He looked down at you with concern in his eyes, his eyes showing genuine care for your well-being.

‘Do you want me to run you a bath?’

You smiled at the suggestion and nodded with a sweet smile,

‘Yeah, I’d love that’.

Jeongin pressed a quick kiss to your mouth before responding ‘Okay’ and pulled his cock out from inside you and removed his condom, tying it into a knot and throwing it out in the bathroom bin.

You closed your eyes as you heard the water run, a warm glow of euphoria rushed over you and your mind felt empty, it was just filled with how much you felt Jeongin’s care for you and how you experienced something that was definitely worth waiting for.

‘Baby, you ready?’

You opened your eyes to see Jeongin standing in the doorway, he was shirtless but had pyjama pants on.

‘Mmmm’ You hummed out, making grabby hands at Jeongin so he could come over to you.

When he was in front of you, he held both hands out and you grabbed onto them and let him pull you up, your body collapsing lightly as you leaned against Jeongin’s chest.

‘Whoa..what was that?’ Jeongin exclaimed as his hands steadied you.

‘I don’t know, my legs feel a bit funny’ You laughed awkwardly.

Jeongin smiled at you with that foxy grin and so you knew he was about to say something cheeky.

‘Yeah, that’s when you know the sex feels really good’.

Thank you @creativechaoticloner for the banner and I enjoyed writing this fluffball and I was like 'awww' as I wrote it.

If you would like to be included in the taglist, comment down below.

Taglist: @destiny-fics @stardragongalaxy @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @kodzukein @destiny-fics @umbralhelwolf @starsareseen @hipster-shiz @creativechaoticloner @cherry-0420 @lino-jagiyaa @mischiefsmind @scuzmunkie @mrcarrots @reighlee-greaves @junieshohoho @partywithgyu

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finn8yblak3xo · 10 months

Text

what they would do if they found out you were sh

hey guys sorry i haven’t been active, i was unmotivated and got logged out for a while so hopefully u can forgive me but pls give me ideas and i will certainly make it for you! also please please don’t read this is u are sensitive about this topic and if you ever need someone to talk to my instagram is @finn8yblak3xo

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robin

“IM SORRY” i yelled protecting my head as my dad smacked me with that fucking worn out belt. “NO UR NOT BECAUSE IF YOU WERE THEN THIS WOULDNT HAPPEN AGAIN” i cried stupidly it was all over beer, i told him that was the last bottle when he asked for another one. he said i should’ve brought another pack yesterday when he gave me money but he didn’t feed me often so i brought it for food and brought one beer for him.

“no ice on that back slut” he said dropping the belt on the chair trying to sip the last drops of beer. i don’t do this anymore and i won’t because i had thought about what if robin found out.i remember what it felt like to sh since i did it 4 days ago because of this exact same problem. i picked up the phone that hung near the kitchen, i dialled robins number looking back over my shoulder only to see my dad sleeping on his ‘special’ chair. finally it connected “hey, robin can u come over?” i asked him “of course is everything ok?” he replied having a worried tone on, “ye i’m fine just come over” “ok be there in 10”

i saw his through my window and ran down stairs silently, i opened the door before he could knock. “omg amor are you ok?” he asked hugging you while seeing tears in your eyes, “ i’m fine come upstairs” i said holding his hand tip toeing up to my room. “ok something is clearly wrong what’s up” he said placing you on his lap, you straddled him as you cuddled. he knew your dad was abusive, so he asked softly “was it ur dad?..”as i nodded, he never thought i would sh, he did notice a few months ago that hide ur self from everyone for a while so he did suspect u but didn’t want to bring up the subject again. he held ur hands and noticed some slightly old scars. he immediately knew what u did, he didn’t say anything and just hugged u and kissed the top of your head. “why…” “just why..”

(so sorry if some of it didn’t make sense)

Finney

my teacher was up my ass all fucking day! “yn hurry up” “YN UR GRADES ARE DROPPING” “u need to work harder!” fuck her, school has been stressful and i have been struggling.

i got sent home for fucking back talking to the bitch. it’s not my fault that i have a short attention span! everyone knew i was struggling and everyone was talking about how i might have to stay back a year. ugh fuck, i knew i shouldn’t do this since i haven’t for a while but, i did. as i held the blade in my shaky hand i look down at my wrist, two fresh lines of blood dripped down onto the floor. i then heard a door open, it couldn’t be my dad, wait, SHIT I FORGOT FINNEY WAS COMING OVER. “yn?..” he basically whispered “Yn” he said again softly, i didn’t say anything. i felt a warm pair of arms wrapped around me tightly, i started sobbing in his arms. “my love, why would u do this.. you can talk to me we’ve been together for 1 year and you can trust me.” he said looking you right in the eyes. my eyes started watering as i vented to him. He also helped me with my homework.

#finn8yblak3x #finney blake #finney blake x reader #robin arellano #robin arellano x reader #the black phone #tbp #the black phone fandom #the black phone imagine #bruce yamada

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aussiepineapple1st · 1 year

Text

What is Happening to Me (Part 3)

Leon x F!Reader

Words: 2,171

Contains: Fluff, Injury, Comfort.

Part 1 | Previous | Next

You stayed another week in the hospital, having tests run on you to see if your brain injury might be fixable, but most of the results were hard to say and the doctors decided maybe going home would be the best way for you to heal. Leon was with you every day, coming early in the morning before you would wake up and leaving once he knew you were comfortable and asleep for the night. Once you were able to go home Leon wanted you to be safer as you were still injured and moving slowly, so riding on his bike probably wasn't the best idea. Chris had decided he would take you home in his car with Leon, Claire wanting to tag along.

The three of them coming into your room to help you pack everything up and leave the hospital, Getting the front seat beside Chris who was driving his own car, you look around and smile after strapping yourself in. You had time to think about everything and how you were going to deal with and handle trying to remember everything, for their sake, especially Leon's. But to be honest you were very excited to make new memories and discover who you were and what life you led to ended you up in the hospital with such serious injuries. Must be some exciting life if you have a brain injury so bad you can't even remember yourself. maybe you were some spy? A cool badass who can fight? You had realised your body was in tip top condition and you were fairly strong for your size.

"Ready to head home?" Chris asked looking to you with a smile as he puts the car in reverse and takes the 4 of you out of the underground carpark under the hospital, making your way back home. Leon had talked about the house you both had, and how it was your favourite place to be after a long job, once again fueling so many questions in your head about what your job was and getting you excited to see where you lived. Was it a big 2 story house? Or some lovely little place big enough for the two of you in the forest away from the rest of the city? Your heart would leap as you notice Chris was taking you out of the city and into the green hills, covered with greenery and driving over a few bridges above rushing streams. Leon was watching you the entire way, smiling at the expressions of wonder, pure joy and awe with everything you would look at, he was feeling better about taking you home, knowing you loved where they lived and suspected it wouldn't have changed just because you couldn't remember it, your likes and dislikes were still the exact same. Looking around the car as you wait very impatiently something catches your eye beside Chris' foot on the ground under his seat. Was that a gun? You try to hide it, but suddenly become extremely tense and still. Leon frowning as he had looked over to you and noticed this. "Everything okay, (Y/N)?" He askes causing you to flinch and turn around to face him quickly. "Mhmm..!" You reply with wide eyes and a closed mouth before turning back around to look out of the window. Calm down... These people were your friends, It's probably for protection.. Yeah.. There are probably wild animals out here that are dangerous. You try to convince yourself.

After another 10 minutes of silence and sweaty palms you notice Chris turning off the road and onto a dirt one, in front of you a beautiful, 2 story house surrounded by forest, a large green field of colourful, wild flowers decorating the perfect White house. It looked modern and new, but at the same time had this homely feel of comfort and relaxation, there was no one else around and you had plenty of area to explore flora and fauna of all kinds. Once again that look of awe took over your stiffened features and smile back at Leon. "This is where we live?!" You asked with a slight squeak. Leon gives a nod with an amused smile lifting the sides of his mouth as the car stops, your seatbelt was already undone. Quickly opening the door you wanted to get inside to see what it looked like as fast as possible, but moving too quickly sent a sharp pain through your entire left side where your mysterious wound was. Leon had tried to hurry seeing you moving fast and raced around to your door opening it a little more before placing a hand on your shoulder. "Maybe slow down? I know you're excited, but we have plenty of time for you to look around while you're healing. Okay?" He says calmly, getting a pout and sigh from you as you nod your head, sliding out of the vehicle with his help.

Chris and Claire helped Leon with your things, luckily there wasn't much, only a few clothes and some crafts you had done when Leon would bring something for you to do while staying in bed. Following Leon as he held a hand on your back making sure you didn't trip as you walk, finally making it to the front door, Leon pulling out some keys from a back pocket of his jeans and unlocks the double doors, pushing open one side letting you walk in. You were met immediately with the smell of fresh lily, the interior was bright, mixes of pastel blue furniture complimenting the white walls and light wooden flooring. The second level was on a loft, overlooking the open living, dining and kitchen area, most of the walls leading to the backyard were windows, letting in the bright natural sunlight as it looked out into a beautiful valley. There was so much to take in you felt dizzy. "I need to sit down." You alert Leon who was looking around with you, making sure everything was in order. "Right.. Here let's get you on the couch." He said leading you over to the fabric lounge, a fluffy blanket resting over the back as comfy pillows sat on each end of the lounge, it was a decent size, big enough for the both of you to lay side by side on knowing you both probably fell asleep cuddled up together more than a few times.

Chris and Claire made sure everything was out of the car and come to say goodbye to the both of you, wanting to leave Leon with you and have some quality time together as he looks after you. He walks Chris and Claire back to the car, Chris turning to Leon and placing a hand on his shoulder. "If you need help with anything... anything at all, don't hesitate to call either Claire or myself, we are here for you." He assures and gives Leon a nod as he saw Leon accepting the offer given to him. "Take care!" Claire calls from the passenger seat to Leon as she smiles with a wave, both of them leaving and Leon made his way back inside, closing the door and turning the lock behind him as he lets out a sigh. Turning to face the couch he had left you on he becomes alert as it was empty, looking around the open space to try and find where you had gone. He then hears a drawer opening from above his head on the second floor, making his way upstairs to the loft where your shared bedroom was, you were on your knees looking through one of the cupboards and pulling out a hand gun on your side of the bed. Turning to Leon with wide eyes, you remember the gun at Chris' feet in his car. "Are we assassins?" You ask shakily, Leon only smiles with a chuckle and walks over to you, gently taking the gun from your hands checking to make sure the safety was on. "What if I said we are?" He teased placing the gun back in your drawer and helping you back up to your feet. "But we aren't, you don't need to worry about what we do right now. You need to rest, did you want tea?" He asks leading you back down the stairs and to the lounge he had placed you on before. "Yeah... tea sounds good." You say trying to sound unfazed, BUT WHY DID YOU HAVE A GUN!?

The more you looked around the more weapons you saw. In a cabinet were old but very well taken care of rifles, a few combat knives hung as decoration around them, over on a table were some very beautiful Katanas, and as Leon removed his leather jacket he had a handgun in a holster connected to the back of his belt holding up his jeans. What the hell was going on? Did you all really like weapons this much? this couldn't have been a coincidence..

-----*That Night*-----

You settled into your surroundings very nicely, even though it was new to your brain, your body and soul felt calm and at peace being here, even though there were all those weapons around the place. Leon said you weren't assassins and you trusted his words to be the truth, so other options here running through your head. But night came and the both of you were in bed and asleep just after the sun had set, it had been a long day and you both were exhausted. Laying side by side Leon had fallen asleep much faster than he had since you were in the hospital, falling asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow. Yourself finding a position on your back you had found comfortable enough in the hospital to be able to fall asleep, normally you would fall asleep on your stomach or side so sleeping on your back took some getting used to. After a few hours of sleep you suddenly shoot awake with a gasp, sitting up you wince and grunt, holding your left side in pain from the sudden movement and use of your stomach muscles. Leon had woken quickly to your gasp and movement, his own heart racing from being frightened awake. "What's wrong?" He asked turning on the lamp beside him, lighting up the loft dimly so he could see what was going on. Placing a hand on your back he could see you hunched over and grasping at your side, gently touching your forehead he could feel how clammy you were and your breathing was hastened. "A Nightmare?" He asked as he got up out of bed and made his way around to your side of the bad, kneeling down and pulling your hand away from your dressings to take a look and make sure you hadn't opened anything up.

"Y... Yeah..." You stutter as you try taking deep breaths to calm yourself down as best you could. "I was being chased by some horrifying creature, I think I've just watched too many horror movies or something." You chuckle trying to brush it off, not knowing that in fact you hated watching horror movies as you deal with enough of it in your daily job, unbeknownst to you though. "Right... Horror movies." Leon repeated quietly to himself. "Can you remember what it looked like? That was chasing you?" He asked now seeing you weren't in as much pain and climbs back in bed, helping you lay down before laying on his side looking up to you. "Um... It was big... Bigger than a normal human, it's hands and feet were large and it had no skin... No eyes and the head was just a mouth and a brain." You say trying to recall what it was that had chased you in your dream. "It sounds so stupid now that I say it aloud." You chuckle and look over to Leon who didn't even have a slight inkling of amusement on his features. His eyes nothing like you had ever seen before, cold and like steel, void of any sign of happiness. "Leon?" You say noticing his gaze as he stared at your arm deep in thought.

He says nothing before lifting said arm up and scooting against your side as he rest his head on your chest, laying your arm over his back gently resting his arm over your hips wanting to hold you close as he was starting to feel sleep take him once again. "I'm fine.. You just watch too many horror movies." He lies and exhales heavily before falling back asleep. You only could look down at him, reaching up and gently running your fingers through his hair as the action starts to lull you back into your own slumber, the lamp on now giving you a sense of comfort as you could see your surroundings. Little did you know, this was just the beginning of your memories returning in snippets.

#what is happening to me #leon x reader #leon x female reader #leon x fem!reader #leon x f!reader #injury #nightmare #fic #fanfic #resident evil #comfort #fluff

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livyjh · 1 year

Text

This is the Way (Home)

Chapter 4

Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: EXPLICIT 18+

Word count: 5.4k

Entire work can be found on ao3 here

Chapter links listed at top of first chapter

A/N: thank you for reading! Requests are now open! Please check my pinned post for details.

Chapter warnings: p-in-v sex, oral (fem receiving), marathoning, somnophilia, marathoning low key, fingering, squirting, reader being called “girl”. (Let me know if I missed anything)

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The next morning came far too quickly. You were awoken by the feeling of Mando shifting under your arm. He was now turned towards you, arms around your shoulders. His helmet was so close you could feel it tickling the peach fuzz on your cheek. Feel the cold of the beskar.

You smiled and rested your head against his, soaking in the feeling. You felt safe and protected, heart beating a little faster as you realized your bodies were pressed flush against one another.

Your legs were slotted together, one of your arms around his waist to keep him close. He felt so solid and strong against you, his armor helping solidify that.

“Are you awake?” You whisper.

“Mhm.” He hums tiredly, voice gravelly.

You shift your hips a little and he groans. You realize he’s hard. Of course he is. It’s you… and it’s morning.

But last night, both of you agreed that that was the last time. You didn’t mind breaking that promise, but you didn’t know how strict about it he felt. So you didn’t try to antagonize him.

“We should go soon.” Mando glances at the clock.

You follow his eyes, it reads 10:41am. Yeah, it was already late morning, you should probably get going.

“It’ll take us till tomorrow night to get you home.” He explains as he moves out of your grasp.

You frown at this but let him go anyways. You get up and throw your things into the canvas bag that the Mandalorian had brought back with your new clothes the other day.

He grabs your hand and leads you out of the room, out of the inn, past a couple cantinas and to the hangar where the ship was. You smiled the whole time as he held your hand. It was a small gesture to keep you safe, but this way if you were grabbed, he’d know without having to look over his shoulder the entire way to the ship.

You arrive at the hangar to find Peli half passed out on the gate of the ship, tools still in hand.

“Peli.” Mando calls to her.

“I’m up!” She shouts, sitting up quickly. “Was just fixing the hydraulics on this baby.” She pats the gate and gets up, setting her tools down and walking over to you two.

“It’s all ready.” She nods to the Mandalorian.

“Thanks.” He nods and hands her a few credits as an extra tip.

“See you later!” She calls as she retires into a back room.

You and Mando load up on the ship, he shows you where everything is before you both head up to the cockpit. You buckle in as Mando lifts the ship off the ground and into the sky.

This time, you’re able to get into space without being shot down. The stars are beautiful, light from the suns disappearing behind Tatooine as you fly away.

“Brace yourself. This’ll be a bit bumpy.” He says, turning his head to you just as he speaks.

You hold onto the arms of your chair, pressing your back into it and tensing your stomach muscles. He pulls a lever and you’re not sure what’s happening but the ship shakes and the stars blur above you into long shafts of light spinning around you. It’s beautiful.

“What is this?” You ask.

“Hyperspace.” Mando says. He clicks a button and unbuckles himself, turning to you.

“Wow.” You look out at the clouds of light whooshing past, then down to him as you unbuckle.

Your stomach grumbles and you’re glad he showed you his supply of food earlier. “I’m gonna eat something.” You smile at him and head down the ladder to the cargo hold.

You open a compartment and look at the different options. There was some spiceloaf, rice, another type of bread, and a blue fruit you didn’t recognize. You grabbed a couple slices of spiceloaf and a fruit, taking them back up to the cockpit so you could sit in someone’s company.

“You hungry?” You ask Mando as you sit in your chair.

He turns to you. “I’m alright. Thanks.”

“Okay.” You shrug and bite into the fruit, some of it dripping down your chin and onto your chest. You pull the front of your shirt down and wipe at the liquid between your breasts and you hear a puff of air come out of the Mandalorian.

It takes everything in you not to smirk at him. You didn’t mean to entice him like that, but you apparently had. You give him an innocent smile as you pull your shirt back up to cover yourself better.

You wipe the liquid off your chin and then off your hand onto your black pants. You’re betting he couldn’t last the day without touching you.

He turns back around to the controls of the ship, trying to pretend he had something important to do turned away from you.

You saw right through it.

You finished eating and then relaxed back into your chair, watching the blur of stars for a few hours. Every once in awhile you’d ask Mando a random question.

“How long have you been a Mandalorian?”

“A long time.”

And then, “Is it hard to breathe in your helmet?”

“Not really.” He shrugs.

Later, “You ever fuck a princess before me?” You ask in a cocky tone.

He hesitates this time.

“No.” He finally says.

You hum in response and don’t say anything else for the next few hours, almost dozing off a couple times.

Your boredom was beginning to take over once you got your second wind. “Is there anything to do?” You ask, trying not to whine. “I mean I have a couple ideas but I don’t know how you’d feel about them.” You smile and look away from him as he turns to you.

He shakes his head. “I don’t typically entertain people on the ship.” He laughs a little.

“Yeah, I get it. You don’t have cards or dice or anything? I’m just so fucking bored.” You whine the last few words.

“Quit.” Mando ordered.

You couldn’t tell if he was actually annoyed with you or just trying to keep you from getting him riled up. You sigh, making sure he hears it as you get up. “I’m gonna go sleep then.”

“Alright.” His voice comes out strained as you head down the ladder.

You get into the bed compartment and lay down, closing your eyes as you pull a blanket over you.

***

You’re not sure how long you sleep, but when you wake up you hear breathing.

You open your eyes, lifting your head to see Mando standing at the edge of the compartment.

“I promised myself I’d at least wait until morning to have you again.” He breathes out, chest heaving. He’s gotten himself quite worked up.

“Is it morning?” You ask.

“Yes.” He whispers.

“Then get in here.” You toss the blanket aside, rolling onto your back and spreading your legs to make room for him. He climbs into the compartment, looming over you. He clicks a button next to your head and the door closes, encompassing you both in darkness.

“I can’t see.” You laugh.

“Good.” He says, you hear his helmet come off and feel it get set down next to your head.

“Mando, what’re you-“

And then his lips are on yours. You let out a loud whine, wrapping your arms around his neck. You run your fingers through his short but fluffy hair, pulling lightly to ground yourself.

He groans into your mouth and presses his crotch against your heat, sucking your bottom lip into his mouth.

You whined as he bit gently on it, letting it go after a second. He kissed you again, harder this time, nearly crashing your teeth together. He was animalistic, breathing hard and groaning with each roll of his hips against yours.

“I’ve been wanting to taste you so bad.” He growls into your ear, licking along its shell. You shiver with want, feeling yourself getting wetter by the moment.

He scoots down and you try to scoot up to give him a little more room. His hands feel for your hips, pulling your pants down your legs and off of them.

You feel him get down on his elbows between your legs, you can feel his breath on your pussy. “P- please.” You pant.

“Patience, princess.” He shushes you and one of his hands moves between up your thighs, dragging a finger through your folds.

“Fuck.” Your hips buck involuntarily.

“Breathe, baby.” He coos, trying to calm you.

You nod, even though you know he can’t see you. He hums, pushing a finger into you and leaning his face closer, breathing hot air against your center.

You clench around his finger and it makes him moan, his mouth suddenly attaching to your clit.

“Ohh, Maker.” You reach down and tug at his hair.

He groans against you, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine. He sucks your clit like a professional, swirling his tongue in circles around it as he fingered you. He finally pushed a second finger in, rubbing against your g-spot.

“Please don’t stop.” You whine, tightening your grip just slightly.

He hums an affirmative against you and your thighs twitch around his head, closing in towards it for a second before you relaxed again. You push your hips up against his mouth, his nose pressing into your vulva as you did so.

You were panting, on the verge of sweating, and so fucking close. Your whines got higher pitched as he continued, and finally, you tipped over the edge. “Mando!” You gasp, pushing his face hard against your pussy as you came.

He pulls his fingers out slowly, your cunt clenching around them as if trying to keep them there. You hear him slurping and sucking his fingers before he’s down again licking your heat and cleaning you up. “Taste so good.” He moans and crawls up the bed, leaning in to kiss you.

You moan as you taste yourself on his tongue as it pushes into your mouth. You swirl yours with his, kissing him again as you reach down for the front of his pants.

You feel his length, gripping it through his pants and making him grunt. He sits up on his knees just long enough to undo his pants before he was teasing your entrance with the head of his cock.

“Maker, fuck.” He curses as he pushes into you, your body arching up against his.

“Please.” You whine, not even sure what you’re asking for.

“Ahh…” he lets out a quiet moan once he pushes all the way inside of you. He doesn’t waste any time pulling back out just to slam back inside you.

“M- Mando-“ you cry out for him, toes curling and head tipping back.

He pushes your shirt up, mouth finding a nipple and sucking on it. “Please, please, oh fuck.” You gasp and pull at his hair.

He’s fucking you at a fast pace already, one hand supporting himself over you, the other snaking down between you to rub your clit. You were almost at the point of feeling overstimulated, pussy aching in the best way.

Your clit was swollen from him sucking on it and the way he rubbed it was nearly too much. Your second orgasm hit you without warning, making you scream and claw at his chest plate.

“You’re okay, baby. I got you.” He breathes against your neck, ceasing the movements of his fingers. He continued to thrust into you, chasing his own release.

“Think you can cum again for me?” He asks sweetly.

“F- fuck… don’t know.” You moan.

“I bet you can.” He slows down while he talks to you, dragging the head of his cock over your g-spot slowly enough to let your body catch up while staying incredibly turned on.

“For you, I can.” You breathe.

“Good girl.” He moves up to kiss your lips, moaning into your mouth as he speeds up again.

You whine against him, kissing him hard and using your arms around his shoulders to keep him close.

He fucked down into you, planting open mouthed kisses along your jaw and neck and collarbone.

“T- touch me.” You stutter.

He hums, reaching down to press his thumb against your clit, just putting pressure there as he thrusted his hardness in and out. He soon started rubbing it, back and forth in tune with his movements.

“Need to cum soon.” You sigh, almost a sob. You’re so fucking sensitive and on edge and fuck if it didn’t feel like the best thing in the galaxy.

“I’ve got you.” He repeats from earlier, panting.

Tears threaten to prick your eyes as your vision blurs and your body feels like it catches fire. “I’m cumming.” You mutter under your breath, gasping as you pull him up to kiss you again. You cry out against his mouth, your juices spreading over his cock as you cum.

He’s fucking you quickly until his hips falter and he’s filling you up, shooting into you. “Look so g- good, princess.”

You can only whimper in response, thighs dropping from around his hips and resting on the mattress. You both come down, he slows and pulls out of you, kissing your forehead. He’s then kissing down your body, making his way down to your leaking cunt.

“Can I clean you up?” He asks softly.

“Yeah.” You reply weakly, feeling exhausted.

He kisses your vulva before leaning down to lick between your folds. He circles his tongue around your clit a couple times before moving south to lick at his own cum coming out of you.

The thought of the action alone nearly made you cum again, but him actually doing it was another story. Your thighs squeezed his head just slightly as his tongue pushed into you.

He nearly purrs against you, pushing your thighs further apart again so he can continue.

“I’m- oh, Maker- Mando I might fall asleep. I’m sorry.” You apologize.

“Is it okay if I keep going?” He asks, sheepish.

You laugh softly, only out of surprise. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

You run your fingers through his hair and relax your body, letting yourself drift.

You swear you were only asleep for a couple minutes before he had you cumming again, the orgasm waking you up.

“Fuck.” You mumble, one hand reaching down to lazily rest on the back of his head.

“What…” you start. “What’s your name…?” You ask tiredly, still half asleep.

“Why?” He responds from between your legs.

“So I know what…” you snore for a second. “Know what- what to scream when I cum.”

He fucking laughs. It’s sweet yet gritty, rough in his throat. “Din, princess.”

“Din princess?” You giggle.

“No. Just Din.” He hums with a smile in his tone.

“Okay, just Din.” You snort.

You feel him shake his head and laugh again before you pass out once more.

You dream of exactly what’s happening, Din eating you out for hours on end. You could remember two more orgasms, everything else was a blur.

When you do finally wake up for good this time, Din is nowhere to be found. The compartment is open, he was kind enough to cover you with a blanket before he left. You get up and locate all your clothing, getting dressed again and heading up into the cockpit.

“Hey, how long was I out?” You yawn as you sit in the chair behind Din and to his left.

“Oh, hey.” He turns around. “I just came up maybe twenty minutes ago. I think you were in and out for about two hours.”

“Lovely.” You smile, pussy almost numb but still tingling with pleasure. You were totally blissed out, high on the feeling.

You fold your hands across your stomach as you lean back in your chair and look at Din.

“We’ll be there in a few hours.” He says, glancing at the control board and then back to you.

“Wow. That was… faster than I expected.”

“By a few, I mean 5.” He explains.

“Ah.” You nod with a small laugh.

“Wonder what we could do to pass the time…” Din trails off.

You laugh softly, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “I thought the other night was supposed to be the last time.”

“I think we should make the most of the time we have left.” He shrugs. “Only if you want to.”

“I want to.” You say too quickly, then bite your lip.

He takes his gloves off and sets them aside, patting his lap. “Come here.”

You sit on one of his thighs and he turns you both around in the chair to face hyperspace out the big glass portion of the cockpit.

He pushes your shirt up and helps you take it off. You then lift your hips, feet on the ground for a moment so you can wiggle out of your pants.

He undoes his belt and zipper, pulling his cock out before he turns you to face away from him. One of your legs sat on the outside of each of his, his legs widening to spread your thighs further. One of his hands came from behind you to cup your breast, the other coming around to tease your pussy.

He had you totally spread open for him, you leaned your head back on his shoulder and braced yourself by holding each of his wrists.

He pushed two fingers into you and scissored you open, stretching you deliciously. You were panting, chest moving up and down quickly as he brought you to your first orgasm of this round.

“Yes-!” You gasp, hips bucking wildly as you cum on his fingers, squirting.

“Fuck.” He breathes, hand now soaked. “Made a mess, didn’t you?”

“Mhm.” You whine, fucking yourself down on his fingers still.

He pulled his hand away from your cunt, reaching to guide your hips back closer above his. He guides his cock to your entrance and lowers your body down onto his.

“Din-“ you choke out as he fills you up.

“That’s it, princess. Say my name.” He groans.

“Fuck, Din. Feel s- so good.” You breathe out shakily.

He turns his hands so his palms are facing you, fingers pointing down as he holds the backs of your hips and lifts you each time he thrusts.

Soon, you switch up on him and start using your legs to bounce up and down on his cock, the angle making you clench with pleasure.

“G- good girl.” He pants through his modulator, fucking you from behind.

After a few minutes he’s moaning with each thrust down. “Gonna cum, baby.” He breathes.

“Me too.” You whine, fucking him as fast as you can. Your legs are shaking when you cum, your hips stuttering as you keep going.

He orgasms soon after you, spurting hot cum inside your cunt. You whimper in pain from your sore leg muscles as you slow to a stop.

Din is rubbing your thighs as you calm down and lean back against him. Your breathing soon evens out as he continues ghosting his hands over your naked body.

You shiver with want as his fingers graze over your nipples, arching your back.

“What do you need?” He coos.

“Need your mouth again.” You sigh softly.

“Yeah?” He taunts. “I think we can arrange that. Get up, come with me.”

You stand and follow him as he goes down to the cargo hold. He shuffles through some items in a bin before pulling out a long, thick piece of fabric. “You can wear this… as a blindfold. Or I can turn off the vision in my helmet and you can wear it.”

“Blindfold. I want to be able to kiss you.” You smile at him. He hands you the fabric and you wrap it tight around your head, making sure your vision was totally blocked off.

You hear his helmet get taken off and set on the ground before his hands ghost up from your wrists to your elbows. He wraps his arms around your waist as he pulls you in and kisses you like you were the only woman in the galaxy.

You kiss him back eagerly, your hands running up his arms to rest on his shoulders. He holds your waist and walks you backwards until your knees buckle and you sit down on the edge of the bed compartment. He’s leaning over you, grabbing your breasts now as he kisses you.

“I-“ he starts but then silences again.

“What?” You ask. “I’ll do anything.” You breathe.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He admits.

“Fuck.” You pant against his lips. “Yeah. I- I’d like to. It might be hard if I can’t see.” You reason.

“I have an idea. Get on your knees and move up a bit, face away from me.” He guides you with his hands as you do as he says.

You move up the bed and get on your knees before turning around.

“Legs wider.” He taps the insides of your thighs until you’re spread nice and wide.

You hear him get on the bed behind you until you feel him slide between your legs, breath hitting your center.

“Go ahead.” He reaches up to grab your ass.

“Like, sit, all the way?” You ask nervously.

“Yes.” He laughs softly. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” He says, even though he knows he’s going to enjoy it, even if he does suffocate.

You lower yourself down and rest your cunt on his chin, his nose poking into your clit as he starts licking into you.

“Maker-“ you gasp, reaching down to put a hand in his hair and pull softly.

You feel his teeth a couple times as he licks at you and it sends jolts through your body. You grind down onto his nose, trying not to add more pressure than needed. Maker forbid you break his nose.

He groans between your legs, moving up to suckle your clit, making it swollen and sensitive. “Fuckfuckfuck.” You curse as Din sucks harder and swirls his tongue over your sensitive bud.

“Gonna cum, baby.” You cry out as you pull his hair harder.

He moans against you and the vibrations send you past your limit. You cum hard, squirting over his chin and no doubt other places. He licks at your release, trying to get what he can out of you.

You’re amazed at his oral abilities, considering he was never supposed to take off his helmet. He was either a natural or had broken the rules a number of times. Either way, you’re careless as you come down from your high.

He taps your leg and you lift off of him immediately. He’s gasping for air as soon as you do.

“Fuck, s- sorry.” You stutter.

Between gasps, “It’s okay.” He says. “Felt good.”

He pushes your legs apart as far as they can go before they hit the walls of the compartment. He squeezes up between them, resting his back against the compartment wall, his hips now positioned between your legs. “C’mere.” He breathes, pulling you in.

Your lips crash against his in a needy kiss, moaning as you taste yourself. He moans back, hand reaching down between your legs. He cups your pussy, making you gasp softly.

He then spreads his fingers slightly before pushing his two middle ones into you. You can feel his eyes on you as you thrust down onto his fingers, feel him watching you closely and imagining what he wants to do with you.

You make sure he knows. “You can do anything you want with me.” You breathe.

“Noted.” He has a grin in his voice as you fuck yourself on his hand.

His thumb pushes against your clit and you go from thrusting to rolling your hips forward and back, focusing the pressure on his thumb.

“So needy.” He breathes. “Made you cum 8 times earlier when I was eating you.”

“Fuck.” You moan as you get yourself closer to orgasm.

“Ever been fucked this good by anyone else?”

You shake your head.

“Didn’t think so.” He hums. “Want you to remember how my fingers feel inside you. How my cock feels, filling you up.”

You whine and nod, eyebrows drawing up and jaw dropping. His mouth was fucking filthy and you couldn’t get enough of it. You kissed him hard, biting his lower lip when you came.

He whined in slight pain but it was all worth it when he felt you pulsing around his fingers. You almost swear you taste blood as you release his lip.

“Shit, are you bleeding?” You ask.

You feel him reach up to touch his lip before he examines his finger. “Nope.”

“Okay, good.” You sigh, still coming down from your high. You rest your forehead against his, reaching down to feel that he was almost fully hard again. “Hello…” you tease.

You blindly undo his pants and release his cock, aligning with him before sinking down onto it. “Yes, Din…” you breathe out slowly, shaky.

“Fuck me, princess.” He sighs softly once he’s completely inside of you.

“Trust me, I will.” You take a deep breath before lifting your hips and slamming them back down. Your head tilted back with pleasure and he took the opportunity to kiss your neck with a hot, wet, open mouth.

You started out moving slow, but it was only a few minutes before you were thrusting up and down quickly, bouncing on his dick. You ran a hand through his hair before resting it on the back of his head, your other hand on his shoulder.

Din brought out a side of you that you hadn’t seen in a long time. Something feral and exciting. You wanted him so bad you could hardly stand it. You felt like somehow you were meant to be here with him.

Your legs started to shake, your thigh muscles still a bit tired from the sex in the cockpit.

“Come on, baby… Need me to fuck you?” He breathes.

“Y- yeah.” You moan and in a second he’s flipping you over onto your back.

You gasp, his cock staying inside you the whole time. It felt so fucking good, you needed him to fuck you senseless.

“Please, just-“ you pant. “Fuck me good.”

He kisses you and starts slapping his hips against your ass as he fucks you hard, pushing you up the bed just a millimeter with each thrust.

“Din!” You sob his name, gasping for air with how euphoric you felt.

“Come on. You can cum again for me. I know you can.” He encourages you.

“Yeah.” You breathe out, legs wrapping around his body.

“Need me to touch you, baby?”

“Please, Din. Please.” You whimper.

“I know. Know you need it.” He hums, reaching down to rub circles on your clit at a fast pace.

You’re breathing fast, gripping the wrist of his attached to the hand that was touching you. You knew you might’ve been hurting him with how tight you held on, but you were so fucking close.

“Fu- fuck.” You moan, “Yeah, baby. Yes!” You gasp and arch your back as you cum around his hardness. He groans low in his chest as you squeeze around him. He twitches and then releases inside you as he kisses you.

You take his face between your hands, holding him close to kiss him as long as you could before you were both out of breath.

He pulls back enough to breathe, panting as he buries his face in your neck. You run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, wishing he was as completely naked as you were.

“Need to feel you.” You mumble.

“Where, baby?” He coos.

“All of you. Your skin.” You whine.

“Okay.” He kisses your collarbone and you feel him scoot back until he’s standing outside the compartment.

You hear him take his armor off one piece at a time, setting it all in a pile on the floor. Then it’s the shuffle of clothing. And after a minute, he’s crawling up next to you and pulling you back against his chest so you were his little spoon.

His body was so amazingly warm, strong, toned, firm. All you’d thought it would be. He leans his head forward to kiss the side of your neck, making you shiver slightly.

He was already half hard against your ass again and you didn’t know how he did it. But you truly didn’t mind. You just needed a couple more minutes.

Like he’s read your mind, he waits five or six minutes before even saying anything. “What if you didn’t go home?”

“What?” You perk up a little.

“What if you stayed with me? Traveled with me?” He breathed against the back of your neck.

“I don’t know if I can. There’s people depending on me at home.” You sigh sadly.

“Think about it.” He says, rubbing a hand down your chest to rest on your belly.

“Okay.” You smile.

You think he’s about to come onto you again, was going to touch you some more, but you both ended up falling asleep there.

***

Two hours later, an alarm starts going off in the cockpit.

“Don’t worry. I set it.” Din shushes you as you start to wake up.

He goes up to the cockpit to turn the alarm off before coming back down. You still had the blindfold on, knowing he hadn’t put his helmet back on yet.

“Give me a minute.” He says in a rough, gravelly voice. It was sexy.

You hear clothes, then armor plates, and finally his helmet puffing air when he put it on. “Okay.” He gives you the go-ahead.

You take off the blindfold and look at him, wishing you could’ve seen his naked body. But to feel it, for now, was enough.

“We’re almost there, princess. You should get dressed.” He hands you the large canvas bag full of your clothes.

“Thanks.” You smile up at him and dig through the bag as he goes back into the cockpit.

You feel the ship jostle a little and you assume he’s slowing it down. You get dressed in a summer dress that Din had picked out for you. It was rather flattering. It was clean too, which was the best part right now.

You went up the ladder and sat down behind Din, buckling in as he brought the ship into Corellia’s atmosphere.

You soon landed near your family’s small palace and Din turned around to look at you. “Mesh’la.” He says.

“What?”

“It is Mando’a for ‘beautiful’.” He explains.

“Oh.” You smile and blush softly.

You know you have to act normal, not too familiar with the Mandalorian in front of your parents.

You both exit the ship, your parents running towards you until they’re hugging you. They’re both crying tears of joy as they hold onto you for a few minutes. It had only been a handful of days since you’d seen them, but you had missed them.

“I love you guys.” You smile at your parents.

They smile back. “We love you.”

“Can I talk with Mando for a minute? Just wanna thank him again. I’ll be right behind you.” You smile at them and they nod, handing the Mandalorian a pouch of credits before walking with their security detail back towards the palace.

You and Din stare at each other for a minute, you smiling like a goof, feeling butterflies in your stomach.

“Have you thought about it?” He asks shyly.

“I want to come with you, Din. But… I can’t. I have responsibilities here, my parents just got me back. I can’t leave them again so soon.” You sigh.

He nods, “I understand.”

“I’m sorry.” You frown.

“You don’t need to be.” He hooks a finger underneath your chin. “Thank you for everything, princess.”

“Thanks for saving my life.” You laugh a little, feeling silly for him thanking you.

You look at each other another long moment before you lean in to hug him. “Goodbye.” You hum.

He hugs you back for a long moment before pulling away. “Goodbye.”

You walk away from him, only turning to look back once you heard the ship lifting off the ground. You watch him disappear into the sunset, happily remembering your days with him.

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selfrinsert · 3 months

Note

💤 + weiss? 👁👁

THE PINING BEGINS HEHE

Timeline: Volume 7, Episode 5

Ris threw up another shield, just in time as Weiss’ knight summon brought its sword down on it. The yellow color shield shimmered and cracked, and Ris somersaulted out of the way before it could shatter on top of them.

They were out of color energy, they could feel it, but between Weiss darting in with her rapier and her summon swinging around its sword, they didn’t have time to absorb more.

Ris steeled themself, angling their broadsword to protect their torso. They *had* to get rid of that summon! They loosened up, stepping around, doing a pretty damn good job of dodging and blocking, Weiss’ sword clanging off of their own. They spotted their opportunity as the summon stepped forward, and swung their weapon in a powerful, wide arc. Once the knight’s leg buckled and began to disappear, they plunged their sword upwards into its chest, the momentum of it falling making the blow even more effective.

“Hah!” Ris panted triumphantly as the knight turned to glittering dust around them. They spun, ready to end this duel, ready to *win,* but felt their feet go out from under them, and were swiftly met with the tip of Weiss’ rapier at their throat. She smirked down at them, tilting her head ever so slightly.

They stared at each other in a brief stalemate, before Ris rolled their eyes, propping themself up on their elbows. “Alright, alright, you win.”

“Hah!” Weiss taunted with her hands on her hips, before straightening up and sheathing her rapier. “I told you I could beat you.” She offered Ris a hand.

Two years ago, Ris would’ve scoffed and denied. But today, they smiled and took it, allowing the ex-heiress to help pull them to their feet. “Right, right…what is that, 5 to 1?” they grinned.

“3 to 1, at best! And it won’t be long until I’ve caught up to you.” Weiss folded her arms. She was so easy to rile up, and Ris had to admit they enjoyed it just a little bit.

“Oh, we’ll see about that,” they checked their scroll, 10 o’ clock already? “Yeesh, it’s late.”

“How did the time go by so fast?” Weiss said, also pulling out her scroll.

Penny and the rest of team RWBY *had* left the Atlas training room awhile ago. Ris pocketed their scroll, shifting their weight from one foot to the other. They watched Weiss check her messages, tucking a bit of white hair behind her ear. They were suddenly…nervous, being alone with her. Not at all a bad feeling, but their stomach doing somersaults couldn’t be a good thing. Right?

“How about…” Ris bit their tongue, but pressed forward, “how about I walk you back to your room?” They thought she would’ve scoffed, said she could handle herself just fine, but instead she smiled.

“Thank you.”

The two walked in silence, Weiss’ hand resting on the hilt of her sword, Ris’ hands held behind their head.

“You’re a pretty good sparring partner, you know.” Ris blurted out. “I mean, I know you said you haven’t had the best track record one on one, but you’ve got a lot of tricks up your sleeve. Keeps me on my toes.”

Weiss laughed, “Well, you’ve been pretty good practice. I think I’ve learned how to keep a single target occupied now, so they can’t deal as much damage to me.”

They arrived at team RWBY’s door, all too soon.

“Uh, have a good night,” Ris waved, unable to wipe the goofy smile off their face.

Weiss brought a hand up to her mouth, stifling a giggle. “Sleep well, Ris.”

“You too,” Ris called before Weiss shut the door.

*Agh, dummy! You were too earnest!* Ris pressed their palms to their eyes.

They lay awake in their bed, the sight of Weiss tucking her hair behind her ear playing in their head over and over.

________

Weiss hardly noticed, but she was smiling at the floor, and let out a contented sigh after the door closed behind her.

“Well, well, well!” Ruby grinned, chin in her hands as she lay on the top bunk.

Blake and Yang had matching grins, the former propped up in bed with a book and the latter brushing her teeth.

“Late night with Ris, huh?” Yang teased.

“Wha-” Weiss looked up, immediately flushed, “Not like that! We just lost track of time sparring, that’s all.”

“Suuure,” Ruby giggled. Blake laughed, holding her book up so only her eyes were showing.

“I- I can’t believe you three!” All ganging up on her like that! “Me? And Ris? You’ve *got* to be joking,” Weiss tossed her head, striding to the bathroom.

Yang just smiled, shook her head, and put her toothbrush away, joining the other two in the room.

Weiss stared at herself in the mirror for a moment. Her and Ris?

No, she doubted Ris felt the same sort of butterflies…and besides, she had other things to worry about.

#rambles #Weiss: I think I’m in love but my awful father is running for council and my sister is gonna have to kill an old lady so idc about that rn #I LOVEEEEE writing fight scenes they’re my most favorite #ty Rion!! <3 #kodiak #riswriting

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fawnandshadows · 1 year

Text

How You Get The Girl

Chapter 10

Chapter 9

AO3

Warnings: Sexual content

Azriel blinked.

“Come again?”

“I’d like to,” Elain muttered, her cheeks scorching as she took in his stunned expression. She didn’t even want to think about the fact that in the years she’s known Azriel he had never once looked this surprised. “I’m sorry. It was stupid and I made you uncomfortable. I’ll just go,” Elain quickly scrambled to her feet, eager to leave her embarrassment behind. “I’m so sorry. So—”

“Elain,” Azriel said softly, his hand gently closing around her wrist. “I’m not uncomfortable,” He tugged her back towards him. “I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right.”

Azriel let go of her wrist and placed his large hands on her bare shoulders — her tank top doing absolutely nothing to protect her from his warm skin.

Their eyes met and Elain felt her heart flip in her chest.

“Tell me what you want Elain.” Azriel said in a tight, even voice. His handsome face impressively stoic once again.

“I want,” Elain started, her tongue coming out to wet her lips. She saw Azriel’s eyes dip before meeting hers again. “You to go down on me. Please.”

His grip tightened on her shoulders, his fingers digging into her soft flesh.

“And that’s all you want?” His gaze intensified, and Elain felt the warmth exuding from his hands spread through the rest of her body.

“For now? If that’s ok?” Elain asked, unsure and not wanting to pressure him anymore.

He tipped his face closer to hers.

“Elain,” Azriel said in a strained voice. “Just so you know, what you’re offering me right now is the fantasy of most men in America. Probably in the entire fucking world,” His thumb rubbed along the length of her collar bone. “But they don’t know you,” Azriel muttered, his fingers moving to massage some of the tension from her shoulder. “And with your level of fame it would be hard for anyone to see you as more than just a fantasy.” Elain sucked in a sharp breath.

She nodded, confirming his words.

“You’re different,” Elain said, head flaring in her cheeks. “You treat me differently. In a good way. Like a friend,” Azriels hands gave her shoulders a small squeeze. “But you can say no. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, especially because of your job and we never have to do it again—”

“I’ll do it,” Azriel confirmed, his eyes soft and warm and they took in the relief skittering across her features. “We can start with it this once,” He swallowed. “And see how it goes.”

Elain nodded, her heart beating faster as he slowly backed her towards his room. Their gazes locked on each other, intense and heated, but Elain never looked away. Didn’t shy away from the passion in his eyes and didn’t buckle from the fierce arousal simmering in her core like lava.

He had only touched her shoulders and she already felt more pleasure with Azriel than anything she felt with Graysen.

They walked into the room and Azriel kicked the door shut behind him — Her eyes left his to take in the place he called home.

Her lips turned up as she took in the band posters on the wall and the desk littered with sketch pads, pens, and colored pencils. No laundry scattered on the floor, but neatly put away. It was cozy. A TV sat on a dresser facing his bed, and Elain saw herself wrapped in Azriel’s arms watching their favorite show. A movie. She wasn’t picky.

“I like your room.” Elain said, turning back to him with a smile.

“I’ve started a few designs for your next tattoo,” Azriel said, his voice casual as he nodded to his desk. “Want to see them?”

“Yes, please.” Elain smiled, giddy as they walked the short distance to the desk. The thought of Azriel sitting at this wooden desk and sketching something for her made little butterflies flap their wings deep within her heart.

She had only asked him a few days ago for the tattoo, and he wasted no time in preparing it for her. Some small part of her wanted to say that he prioritized something she asked him to do. Something he refused to take monetary payment for — and Elain knew how much he worked between now and then, so some small part of her rejoiced at his efforts.

He pushed his desk chair off to the side and grabbed his sketchbook before taking her hand pulling her towards his bed.

Elain allowed herself to bounce on the mattress and lean into his side, shucking her shoes off before bringing her feet onto the mattress.

Azriel opened the sketchbook so that it laid on both of their laps, his head tilted close to hers as they bent down to look at the pages — his intoxicating scent lulling her senses and spreading a warm, fuzzy feeling to invade her consciousness.

She watched as his large hand flipped through the pages, the seconds everlasting as they sat together. Maybe it was due to the fact that Elain intentionally slowed her own breathing and tried to take in every detail to cement this moment in her mind for as long as possible.

He turned the pages slowly, as if offering Elain a glimpse into something more, something deeper. She noted how most of his sketches were done in pen, but he used colored pencils if he wanted to color anything in. She noticed that he tended to use thick, bolder strokes that were different from the dainty tattoo that he had inked on her hip.

“My tattoos aren’t your usual style.” Elain noted, daring to glance up at him to see him already looking down at her through black lashes.

“But they’re your style,” Azriel said, tilting his head slightly. “And that’s what matters.” He smiled softly down at her.

Elain contemplated what she wanted to say next, weighing the words on her tongue before saying, “Thank you for noticing,” Her eyes dipped back to the sketches. “What my style is.”

He brought a hand up and moved her golden brown hair to one shoulder, exposing the heated skin on the back of her neck, and using his fingers to ease any lingering tension.

“I love your hands,” Elain said in a soft sigh, letting her head relax and bob to the side. His fingers stilled on neck. She blinked away her cloudy thoughts and looked up at him. “I’ve always thought they were beautiful,” Elain admitted with hesitant vulnerability. “And they create such lovely art, and they feel very…pleasant.”

In a thick voice Azriel said, “Thank you.”

He dropped his hand from her neck and they turned back to the book. He flipped faster, searching for her designs before finally finding his destination towards the back of the pages — Elain wondered if all of these were for commissions, or if he ever drew just for himself.

As soon as he found the page, Azriel twisted the spiral bound book in half so that just the page of heart designs were showing. Her lips involuntarily turned themselves upwards as she thought about intense and intimidating Azriel scribbling hearts on a page for her — would he have the same intensity that he normally wore? That he had when he was sketching on the tour bus?

“I love them all,” Elain said, taking in all the different designs. None of them were wider than an inch, which Elain didn’t want it to be, but he somehow knew that without Elain having to tell him. She peered up at him with her brown eyes. “Do you have a favorite?”

His eyes were intently focused on her face and Elain could see the effort it took for him to move his eyes to the page.

“Honestly, I like this one,” Elain looked down to Azriel pointing a long, elegant finger at the simplest design. It wasn’t colored in like some of the other ones, and the line work was the thinnest of all the designs. It was simple, almost as if Azriel had just decided to draw a heart on a whim without thinking — it was in his handwriting. “It’s not overpowering or flashing, but simple and understanded.”

Elain nodded along, absorbing every word he said.

“I like it…” She trailed off, looking up at him. “Should we look a little closer as to where we should draw it? Or, well, where you should draw it.”

An impish grin formed on Azriel’s lips.

“Should I grab my pen?” Azriel teased and a slow smile took root on Elain’s face as she nodded.

When Azriel got up to get his pen Elain quickly slipped out of her tank top, tossing it to the foot of the bed — and she tried her best to remain as casual as possible in her lace, unlined bra. She was a model, and even though she never did lingerie or bikini shoots, plenty of people had seen more of her when she changed for the runway. She was posing, something she did all the time, but for some reason she was acutely aware of every detail of the way she was sitting.

He turned on his heels and the pen in his grasp nearly fell to the floor.

Hazel eyes latched onto her breasts.

“Do you think I need to take my bra off?” Elain asked in an unintentionally breathy voice.

Azriel tilted his head and said, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.”

After a beat Elain reached behind her back and unclasped her bra, slowly dragging the straps off of her shoulder and tossing the scrap of lace at the foot of the bed with her shirt.

Her chest heaving up and down as Azriel devoured her breasts with his eyes.

“Lay down.” Azriel commanded, and Elain instantly dropped back to her elbows, but still strained her neck to look at him as he approached, uncapping his pen.

He stood over her and placed a hand at her collarbone, gently pressing her back into the bed.

It wasn’t the first time his hands were on her, but she still marveled at how large it was. However, his left hand moved from her collarbone and settled underneath her heavy left breast, almost cupping it but not quite. Curving over her rib cage.

“You have freckles here,” Azriel said in a heavy voice. “So, I think we should let those beauties be, but,” He brought his right thumb up to brush the skin underneath her right breast. “On the right you have a blank canvas. What do you think?”

“The right sounds good to me.” Elain urged, shuddering as Azriel drew the heart on her skin — the tip of the pen scrapping over her sensitive skin, electrifying her to the point of gasping. All too soon the pen left her skin.

Elain leaned up again and tried to look at the drawing, but her breast obscured her vision.

“I can’t see it.” She pouted, her brow dipping.

“You’ll be able to see it when you stand up.”

Elain’s pout deepened.

“I know we really aren’t supposed to — for security reasons, but could you take a picture? So I can see? My face doesn’t have to be in it.”

“Elain.” Azriel warned.

“Sorry, it was a bad idea.”

Elain saw something in Azriel crumble because he reached towards his night stand and grabbed his phone.

“Here,” Azriel said, grasping her hands and placing them on her chest. “Just in case, right?” Azriel shook his head and sighed. “This is a bad fucking idea.”

Elain looked to the camera, and Azriel must have liked what he was seeing because he tilted the camera up to capture her face.

After snapping the picture, he tilted the screen towards her.

Elain looked…sexy.

Her golden hair spread out around her as if she had been thoroughly ravished right before the picture was taken, and her hands were inadvertently pushing her breasts up, making them look larger and fuller than they were.

And Azriel made it look incredibly artistic.

“I—” Elain started, cutting herself off as she tried to figure out what to say. “It would be a shame,” She said slowly. “For such a pretty picture to be erased.”

Azriel looked at her intently.

“I can’t send it to you, Elain,” He said gently. “It already shouldn’t exist, but your phone was already stolen once before…” He trailed off and Elain nodded.

“Maybe I like knowing that you’re the only one with the picture.”

A tense silence filled the room and after a moment, Azriel leaned over her, bracing one hand next to her head and using the other to take the phone away from her and tossing it to the foot of his bed. His t-shirt hanging off of his muscular frame.

“You still want to be eaten out?”

Elain gave an impish grin and nodded her head.

Azriel’s eyes darkened until they were almost as dark at Elain’s, and he used his free hand to nudge down her little flannel shorts.

He dipped his head towards her and for a moment Elain thought he was going to kiss her, but he just moved down her body until his face was level with her crotch and he tugged her shorts and panties off.

Elain wiggled her hips to help him.

“Fucking beautiful.” Azriel said, taking in the sight of her aroused sex. And then he opened her with his fingers and ran his tongue along the length of her folds.

Elain bucked her hips in response, her fingers digging into Azriel’s black curls and she panted as his tongue teased her hole. She forced her eyes open and looked down at him, their eyes crashing and locking as Azriel thrusted his tongue into her, causing Elain to cry out in surprise.

He backed off a bit, taking his tongue out and clasping his lips around her swollen clit.

Elain inadvertently pushed his head further into her.

“Please,” She whimpered. “Azriel.”

Azriel’s lips relaxed around her sensitive bud, and he tilted his head to start thrusting his tongue in and out of her — a low growl came from the back of his throat and she tightened around him.

Her eyes started to roll back into her head and her heavy lids drifted down and the tension between her legs started to mount. Her mouth hung open in pleasure.

“Hey, Azriel, do you—”

A surprised scream followed the interrupting words.

Elain jolted up and away from Azriel, trying to curl in on herself.

Azriel quickly shifted to block her from the intruder.

“Mor,” Azriel said between clenched teeth. “Get the fuck out.”

-------

tagging: @123moiaussi @fuckmelifesucks @thefangirlofhp@sakurakittypeach @nikethestatue @tswaney17 @impossiblescissorspeachpaper @feyredarlinq@duskwhisperer @nyxreads @rinadragomir @secretpuppyflower@captainbrucebanner @ultadverb @irisesforelain @shedoessoshedoes @magnolia-blossom87 @sheenabeene @nivem565 @casuallivi @rhysiedarling@elain99-blog @athena-85 @swankii-art-teacher @reverie-tales @jujugirlfrombookstore @shadowflorecita@shy-violet-soul @thisloveseternal

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ninjakk · 2 years

Text

WWX meeting LWJ post Burial Mounds escape

The chapters entitled "Evil" (or the more aptly named "ill winds" - 7s), is where we finally see the true extent of how traumatised WWX has become after escaping the Burial Mounds. In my opinion, it has some of the most heartbreaking scenes in the whole novel.

His lips trembled, saying something in silence. Jiang Cheng stood up almost immediately. It was Wei WuXian! However, apart from the face, from top to bottom, this person was nowhere like the past Wei WuXian. Wei WuXian had clearly been a bright, high-spirited boy. The tips of his eyes and eyebrows had always retained the hint of a grin, always refusing to walk properly. Yet, this person was entirely enveloped in a cold, dark energy. He was handsome, yet pale-faced, his smile eerie.

Chapter 62 ExR translations

In all honesty, the minute I read the description of WWX in this chapter, a tear rolled down my cheek. In fact, I continued to cry silently throughout this chapter as I read it. The difference in WWXs appearance and personality just broke my heart to read. To some extent, the fact we never fully find out what WWX went through during those three months trapped in the Burial Mounds, could almost be worse than knowing. With MXTX leaving it up to our own imaginations to fill in the gaps on his torturous time there, most of our minds probably go somewhere awfully dark and extremely unpleasant, very quickly.

Wen ZhuLiu couldn’t attend to both sides at the same time, blundering amid the chaos. As he looked to the side and saw Wei WuXian’s cold smile, he threw himself at him. Both of the two on the roof frowned. Lan WangJi smacked down. The tiles shattered and the roof collapsed. Through the roof, he descended into the second floor of the courier station and blocked Wen ZhuLiu from Wei WuXian.

In an effortlessly cool fashion, LWJ descends from the broken roof in a shower of tiles and a flutter of white robes, in order to protect WWX. If WWX had been his usual self at this point, I think he might have swooned! It was pretty epic. It's a 10 from me as far as dramatic entrances go! LWJ, falling with style.

WenZhuLiu’s large, heavy body had been lifted up by the surging whip and was now dangling in the air. Immediately, there came the crunching sounds of his neckbones cracked. At the same time, Wei WuXian’s pupils shrunk. He took out a flute from beside his waist and spun around, standing up. The ghoul child and blue-faced woman who had been tearing at Wen ZhuLiu quickly backed off to his side and stared with vigilance at the two strangers.

Meanwhile JC takes advantage of the sudden distraction and attacks WZL, using Zidian to garrote the man who murdered his mother and father. At the same time, the minute WWX sees LWJ and JC, he does not react the way he should. Even in the current circumstances, you would assume he would be happy to see JC, at the very least. And let's be honest, WWX is usually rather excited to see LWJ! But seeing them just now only evoked negative emotions, resulting in WWXs pupils contracting. Shrinking pupils usually indicates anger or anxiety - and I think it's safe to assume it's most likely anxiety here. From his reaction, we can see WWX seems almost nervous that he's been found out. He is somewhat uncomfortable that LWJ and JC have witnessed his behaviour - he wasn't expecting an audience!

The ghoul child snarled at Lan WangJi and Jiang Cheng, not at all hiding its enmity. Wei WuXian raised his hand slightly for it to withdraw its fangs. His gaze swept back and forth between Lan WangJi and Jiang Cheng. Among the three, nobody spoke up. A few moments later, Jiang Cheng waved his arm and tossed something over. Wei WuXian caught it without a second thought. Jiang Cheng, “Your sword!” Wei WuXian’s hand slowly dropped. He looked down at Suibian and only responded after a pause, “… Thank you.”

Again, if WWX is around things aren't usually that quiet! As such, there is an awkward moment where no one speaks. This is most likely because the two who fell with style only minutes ago, are probably in shock at what they have witnessed. WWX is uncharacteristically silent, possibly because he is worried they will judge him for the severity of his actions and the method he is using to extract such vicious revenge. In the end JC finally breaks the ice because he is simply not as concerned about the whole situation. He's relieved to see WWX is back and seems intrigued by his new cultivation method - but he doesn't seem concerned by the stark difference in WWXs personality and demeanor. If anything, JC seems positively delighted to see WWX so fixated on unspeakable revenge. The coldness around WWX starts to dissipate as he notices JC is not treating him any different from usual and he starts to open up a little more. Although he's still reluctant to fully address everything.

From the corner of his eye, Wei WuXian saw that Lan WangJi had always been looking at them.

WWX has been watching LWJ from the corner of his eye since they first appeared. The fact he has been purposefully avoiding his gaze shows us he's nervous and worried about how LWJ might perceive him now. WWX has always wanted LWJ's attention, now he has it under less than ideal circumstances - which is just so heartbreakingly poignant. Instead of having his assumptions confirmed, he chooses to ignore LWJ, which is something WWX has never done before.

Wei WuXian, “I just got out, hey? I heard that both shijie and you were fine, and you were rebuilding the YunmengJiang Sect and forming an alliance, so I went to kill a few Wen-dogs first to lighten up your burden, and do some contributions. In these three months, you’ve been working hard.”

WWX has somehow received information regarding JC and JYL. It's safe to surmise he would have been very anxious to find out if they were okay. Of course on a re-read, we can probably speculate WWX would have been keen to know how JC was doing post golden core transfer as well.

So from the above we can assume that over the past few days, since WWX escaped the Burial Mounds, he most likely asked around regarding the people he cares most about. In fact, it's probably the first thing he did alongside cleaning himself up and buying new clothes. There is a telling sign that WWX has also been enquiring (or at the very least, listening and taking interest in what people are saying) about LWJ as well. Which we'll get to in a minute. Just as WWX starts to thaw out and open up a little, LWJ finally calls out to him.

Lan WangJi suddenly spoke up, “Wei Ying.” He had been standing quietly at the side. As he spoke, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng turned to him. It was as though Wei WuXian finally remembered to greet him. He nodded slightly, “HanGuang-Jun.”

We know from earlier in the chapter, WWX is very well aware that LWJ is present, just as he always is whenever LWJ is nearby. So it's not that he forgot to greet LWJ, but more he's reluctant to do so. It's quite obvious WWX is nervous about LWJs inevitable reaction towards his new cultivation technique.

WWX calling LWJ by his title when greeting him in the above scene is actually rather significant. This is the first time he's ever done so in his first life thus far. From what we can gather, LWJ has only just obtained the title, presumably during the Sunshot Campaign. Although we aren't told this outright, it's the only conclusion we can arrive at due the information provided in the novel. So technically, WWX shouldn't know anything about his title yet. He's only been back a few days and the cultivation world is at the start of a war. As amazing as LWJ is, it's probably one of the least important facts that you would tell a random person enquiring about the war and the Jiang sect. Unless WWX specifically asked about Second Young Master Lan... because he was worried about him also.

Personally, I think it's pretty safe to assume that LWJ obtained his title during his most recent valiant efforts during the Sunshot Campaign. LWJ has not been addressed as HanGuang-Jun until this moment in time onwards. It's not until we read the second Incense Burner chapter from the extras, that we get more evidence that this is most likely the case.

The Lan WangJi of tonight’s dream still appeared to be young, but he was more like the one Wei WuXian saw in the Cave of the Xuanwu, about seventeen or eighteen.

Chapter 119

As we can see from the above, in one of the incense induced dreams, WWX meets a 17/18 year old LWJ. He mentions that LWJ looks around the age he was during their time together in the cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter. WWX then goes on to playfully call LWJ by his title HanGuang-Jun, while teasing and provoking him. But we find out that the 17/18 year old DreamJi doesn't understand this reference, because he has not received the title yet.

He didn’t have the spare energy to think about whom HanGuang-Jun was either, his voice harsh, “Wei Ying!!!”

With this in mind, it only gives us a short period of time for LWJ to have gained the title amid the nearly four months in between their time in the cave and the two meeting in the above chapter.

WWX addressing LWJ as 'HanGuang-Jun' during Chapter 62 holds so much meaning - even more than some might have noticed on a first read. WWX is already on the defensive with LWJ, because he knows how his sect feels about what they deem "improper" cultivating methods. As such, we could conclude he's drawing a line between them by using LWJ's formal title when he finally addresses him. It's a stark contrast to his usual casual way of addressing LWJ by his birth name. But WWX goes on to use his birth name after greeting him, so it seems this might not be the case.

As I said earlier, WWX using LWJ's title is also a telling sign he has been asking (or perhaps heard) about him post Burial Mounds escape. This could actually be quite a sweet little slip-up that shows us just how much he truly cares for LWJ. WWX literally escapes hell on earth and has to find out how LWJ is doing - which is just too cute! It's certainly very much in his character to worry about LWJ, as we've seen numerous times before. It's very interesting, because in the original version of MDZS, it seems WWX does not use his title during the chapter in question. MXTX seems to have added this small detail in when editing the novel - which means it is most likely there for a reason. Personally I think this is MXTX subtly hinting at WWXs feelings for LWJ, showing the reader he was not only thinking about him, but concerned for his welfare - just as he was with JC and JYL. Adding such a tiny detail to quite a sad and gory chapter is a beautifully delicate, creative way to show that underneath the trauma and thirst for revenge, WWX is still the same sweet natured person he has always been. LWJ is always on WWXs mind, even when his mind is in turmoil.

He walked one step forward, “What means do you use to control such dark creatures?” The curvature of Wei WuXian’s lips dropped slightly as he glanced at him. Jiang Cheng had also heard the dissonant tone, “Second Young Master Lan, what do you mean by this?” Lan WangJi’s eyes were glued to Wei WuXian, “Answer me.”

LWJ is worried about WWX and the technique he is using to control the ghosts that are currently present. But WWX is reluctant to explain how he is controlling them, because he has already guessed how LWJ is going to react.

“Lan Zhan, we’ve just met each other again after so long and you’re already trying to catch me. That’s not nice, is it?”

Although, WWX originally called LWJ by his new title, he has reverted back to using his birth name - even though there is some tension between them. Personally I think this shows WWX is showing he is hurt, rather than angry with LWJ at this moment in time. WWX is still clinging onto the familiarity he feels he has with LWJ, trying to reason with him and avoid conflict.

“I thought that we could be considered familiar with each other. You starting a fight with me without saying anything does sound a bit heartless, doesn’t it?”

Unfortunately although LWJ's questions come from a place of concern for him, WWX thinks LWJ is acting this way because he does not like the cultivation technique he is using. WWX is notably upset that LWJ seems to oppose his new method. Learning how to harness resentful energy and cultivating the ghostly path was the only way WWX could survive in such an awful place, doing so saved his life and allowed him to escape. So WWX is probably feeling very frustrated and rejected by LWJs attitude, because WWX had no choice but to cultivate this new path. Not that LWJ knows the reason behind any of this of course, but LWJ jumping to conclusions has clearly cut WWX rather deeply. It's quite sad to see WWX trying to reason with LWJ and appeal to any feelings of friendship he might harbor for him. To me, his reaction to LWJ's attitude shows us how much he truly values any relationship they might have. Rather than arguing or fighting him, he tries to diffuse the situation.

Wei WuXian crossed his flute in front of him, “That’s too much, isn’t it? Why so unfriendly? Lan Zhan, just what in the world do you want to do?” Lan WangJi spoke one word at a time, “Go back to Gusu with me.” Hearing this, both Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng were surprised. Quickly afterward, Wei WuXian laughed, “Go back to Gusu with you? To the Cloud Recesses? Why go there?” He immediately seemed to realize, “Oh. I forgot. Your uncle Lan QiRen hates crooked people like me. You’re his proudest disciple, so of course you’re the same as him, haha. I refuse.”

WWX is still using LWJ's birth name, even though tension is starting to soar. He's still trying to be as friendly as possible towards LWJ, making light of the situation as best he can. WWX even brushes off what he assumes is LWJ's insistence he accompanies him back to his sect, presumably for punishment. Of course although WWX stated he "forgot" about the Lan sects views on certain cultivation methods, we know this is simply not true. His body language and reluctance to acknowledge LWJ is enough proof he is lying. Not to mention less than four months ago, while stuck in the cave of the Xuanwu of Slaughter, WWX was very cautious mentioning anything about the iron sword he found. So we can see that he must remember quite clearly how LWJ's sect would react to his cultivation method.

He gazed at Wei WuXian, “Wei Ying, for cultivating an evil path you would eventually have to pay. Throughout time, there has not been a single exception.” Wei WuXian, “I can pay.” Seeing how unconcerned he seemed to be, Lan WangJi lowered his voice, “The path would not only damage your body, but your heart as well.” Wei WuXian, “Damage or not, how much damage, I know it the most. As for my heart, it’s my heart after all. I know what I’m doing.” Lan WangJi, “Some things you cannot be able to control at all.” Displeasure flashed across Wei WuXian’s face, “Of course I can control it.”

WWX is obviously losing patience with LWJ's insistence that this new cultivation method will harm him. He tries to reason with LWJ further, telling him that he knows this new method better than anyone (he developed it himself after all!) and he can control it.

Lan WangJi walked a step closer. He seemed to be about to speak again when Wei WuXian closed his eyes, “After all, on the topic of how my heart is, what could other people know about it? Why should other people care about it?” Lan WangJi paused. He had suddenly been angered, “… Wei WuXian!”

This sentence is just so heartbreaking to read. It's a rather cutting remark, especially considering we know how LWJ truly feels about WWX. The fact WWX shuts his eyes and is unable to meet LWJ's gaze as he said it is very telling as well. Shutting your eyes while talking to someone is an act of shutting them out. It's an unconscious gesture often called eye blocking, a reflexive movement from someone who is lying and anxious- which is definitely the case here. WWX wants others to care about him and his heart, especially when it comes to LWJ, on a subconscious level.

WWXs comment certainly struck a nerve with LWJ, so much so he lost his composure and called WWX by his courtesy name. LWJ is visibly distressed by WWX's apparent disregard for his own worth, which of course is a lie, hence him shutting his eyes. But he is also hurt by WWX using the comment to draw a line between them, to place LWJ as an "other" in his life. WWX doesn't mean this of course, right up until this very point he was still clinging to hope they were friends or at the very least, familiar with one another. It is only when he is so hurt and angered by LWJs attitude that he reminds LWJ he has always said they weren't close - so how would he know anything about WWX. LWJ pauses because his own previous reluctance to acknowledge they are acquainted has finally come back to bite him on that sexy ass of his.

Wei WuXian had been angered as well, “Lan WangJi! Do you really have to make this difficult at such a point in time? You want me to go to the Cloud Recesses for the GusuLan Sect’s confinement punishment? Who do you think you are, what do you think the GusuLan Sect is?! You really think that I won’t resist?!”

LWJ using his courtesy name is the final push WWX needed to get angry. He shouts LWJ's courtesy name back at him and rebukes his attempt to bring him back to his sect. The atmosphere in the room has become extremely belligerent, resulting in WWX and JC working in tandem to argue with LWJ. Finally JC takes a swipe at LWJ and verbally kicks him while he's down, with one of the harshest remarks I think is in the novel.

“Apologies for saying something so blunt, but even if we get to the bottom of this, Wei WuXian isn’t from your sect either. It’s not in the GusuLan Sect’s place to punish him. No matter whom he goes back with, it wouldn‟t be you.” Hearing this, Lan WangJi’s expression froze. He looked up at Wei WuXian, the lump at his throat trembling, “I…” Before he could continue, a thin scream came from Wen Chao at the corner. Wei WuXian and Jiang Cheng immediately turned around.

There's no other way to say this... When I read this comment from JC I literally swore. Out loud. Like a crazy person. Some will argue otherwise I'm sure, but as I've mentioned in my previous meta, I fully believe that JC suspects WX have unspoken feelings for each other. Granted he's probably not aware of their exact feelings, but he has certainly picked up on something. MXTX has confirmed as such herself as well. JC is definitely threatened by LWJ and his usual influence over WWX. Personally, I think the comment above goes on to prove all of this further. It all seems very personal and the last sentence comes across as deliberately harsh and hurtful. Why say that to him if he doesn't suspect it would hurt LWJ to hear such a cutting remark. JC is definitely his mother's son, with such a viciously sharp tongue. JC even witnessed LWJ's concern for WWX a few days prior, when he noticed JC carrying Suibian and asked about him. But now, he's leveraging the current situation to drive an even bigger wedge between WWX and LWJ.

What's even more upsetting is that LWJ starts to visibly shows his emotions at this point, obviously finally unable to hide the distress and worry for WWX. Under normal circumstances WWX would have noticed this instantly - because he's exceptionally good at reading people. He has even been able to read LWJ (at times) since their time together at the Cloud Recesses, he just refuses to accept it! If WWX was in the right frame of mind, he'd have been hit by LWJs sudden display of emotions and perhaps understood his true intentions weren't what he had first assumed. Sadly WWX is too traumatised and wrapped up in his current overwhelming thirst for revenge to notice anything other than the screams of his dying enemy. As WWX and JCs attention becomes focused elsewhere, preparing to kill WC and WZL, they "suggest" LWJ leave the room, his assistance no longer required.

A few moments later, Lan WangJi turned around and walked down the stairs. After he went out of the courier station, he stood before the door for a long time, but he never left. He didn’t know how long had passed when the silent nightwas ripped apart by a shrill wail. Lan WangJi looked up behind him, his white robes and forehead ribbon fluttering in the cold wind.

The night had passed. The sun in the sky was about to rise. And the sun on the ground was falling.

I think the fact LWJ leaves the building, but still stays nearby is symbolic of his resolve to stay near WWX and protect him no matter what. LWJ will not give up on WWX and he later proves he never does - even if he might lose his own life in doing so.

The final paragraph of this chapter is just so poetic. Personally I think this has a double meaning. Obviously it is symbolic of the fall of the Wen sect, the self-proclaimed sun of the cultivation world who lorded over the other sects from their lofty position. But I think this could also show the unspeakable emotions LWJ is feeling at this moment in time. WWX is a cheerful and vibrant person, he's very enigmatic and LWJ must absolutely adore this. He is the brightest person in LWJs life, so it wouldn't be much of a stretch to claim WWX is the light of his life - or in other words, the sun. As such, this could also symbolise LWJ's fear that WWX is also falling. That WWX is losing himself, darkening his heart and becoming something else, because of his thirst for revenge and the cultivation method he has created. Obviously we know that WWXs heart is not darkening and his method isn't harmful, which LWJ eventually realises as well.

Unfortunately the whole cultivation world begins to turn against WWX and this marks the start of his demis and LWJs sun finally setting. He tries everything in his power to protect it, to keep it shining and prevent it from descending. But sadly LWJ is unable to stop his beloved sun from burning out. Then, just as there is always sunshine after darkness, LWJ gets a second chance to protect his bright shining sun and this time he will not let it fall, because he will always be there to catch it.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mdzs novel #wei wuxian #lan wangji #wangxian #mdzs meta #mdzs analysis #long post #hanguang jun #sunshot campaign

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dispatchwithlove · 11 months

Text

Chapter Sneak Peek 👀

Well, it’s taking me a bit longer than I’d like to get the next chapter of The Boy posted, so I thought I’d throw up a little sneak peek. Hope you enjoy 😊 Chapter 10: Sensory Gratification

The thought of taking Jane to Palaven put warmth in Garrus’s heart. He thought of riding there on a shuttle together, taking her out in a skycar to see the countryside, taking her to his family’s villa.

“You’ll be fine in a little protective gear,” he told her. “And the courtyards and gardens at the country house have shielding, so you can walk around out there as much as you’d like.”

Trip already half planned in his head, he added, “You’ll have to watch out for my cousin’s baby, though, he’s running around now, and at the nibbly stage.”

She laughed, and held up her hand, a human gesture of promise. “I’ll be sure to wear thick socks at all times.”

“Better make it thick leather boots.”

Jane laughed, then her eyes landed on his mouth. “How sharp are your teeth?”

“Sharp enough to break skin.”

“Okay, but so are mine.”

“Sure, but my teeth would leave more of a mark on your skin, than your teeth on mine.”

Watching his mouth, she played at the center of her throat with her fingertips. “Not sure if that’s a warning, or you’re offering a good time.”

A sudden, large trill wedged in his throat. Any sort of reply was impossible, because words lodged just beneath the trill. She was in a very strange mood, had been all day, actually, considering how she acted at the range.

Jane's eyes shot to the top of his head. “Can I touch your fringe?”

“My fringe?”

“You always touch my hair.” Her soft features took on a sharp angle of curiosity.

“Sure,” he agreed, because that was a truth he couldn't deny. The idea that she’d want to touch him in a similar way never crossed his mind, though, maybe because he knew where his urge to get his hands on her came from, and it wasn’t friendly curiosity.

She didn’t take it as an agreement, though, she took it as permission. She scooted even closer, until her thigh pressed to his, tucked her legs up under her for a boost, and her hands landed on the very top of his head, her little groping fingers sailing over the smooth planes. The trill in his throat broke free, surfacing as a too-deep ripple that made her smile. He cleared his throat, and smiled too, thankful that the ripple sounded somewhat normal, and not the whorey thunder that he expected.

As her steady fingers dipped in the ridges in between each plane he followed every single freckle across her nose and cheeks, from one golden fleck to the next. He anchored his hands to his thighs to keep from running his fingertip over them, just to know what they felt like. He guessed they’d burn against his skin, like stars.

“This… is more like running my fingers over your scalp,” he said.

“Mm.”

Her eyes looped over his mouth, his nose, his eyes, his fringe, his eyes again. Following their path left him reeling. Had she ever been so close?

“I only touch the...tips of your hair.”

She sat up on her knees and her hands shot to the tips of his fringe, her face pressing in even closer. The greens of her eyes more vibrant, the curve of her cheek softer, her eyelashes flicking with each blink and a murmuring purr started in his chest; there was no stopping it.

“Is it more sensitive here?”

“Well, no.”

Her eyes connected to his and he swore there were shooting stars in her green irises. It wasn’t the spot that felt so good, every soft touch of a finger to any arch or groove of his fringe seared him in a way he’d never experienced before. Maybe because it had been so long since he’d been touched, maybe because all that time in sensory isolation, he’d been imagining what this would feel like. Her skin. On his body.

Her smile turned sly. “Would you like to run your hands over my scalp?”

Spirits yes. He dug his hand into his thigh so he wouldn’t. In a vid once, a turian gripped his lover’s hair, strands bound in his knotted fist. Despite trying very hard to forget, that image had burned into the most feral part of Garrus’s brain.

“Does this feel good?” Jane asked.

“Terrible,” he said on a hot breath, and she giggled.

#shakarian #shakarian fic #mass effect fanfiction #shepard x garrus #garrus x shepard #jane shepard #Garrus Vakarian #chapter sneak peek #the cases of shepard and vakarian

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tinyvesselhearts · 1 year

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Thing Is (Protective Egon x You)

It’s a part of a slightly larger collection of one-shots but I’m pretty proud of this one so here it comes:

Egon x Reader/You No Y/N Rating: Teen and Up Audiences (minor injuries)

Thing is, he’s become too observant.

Egon knows you come to the station around 10 A.M. There’s no jumpsuits, car or equipment to maintain so you start with the kitchen. It’s not exactly a part of your duties: the guys are fully capable of washing their own, especially since they barely eat in. Yes, okay— he’ll agree none of them is a dishwashing phenomenon and they hardly ever manage to finish breakfast before their first call— but you can just leave the plates there and nobody would bat an eye.

You do it though. Without a word.

On Tuesday, while showing you monochromic ectoplasm bonds Type IV (Egon prompts it himself these days, no bribe included), he notices the skin on your hands is chapped. He knows you work with nasty chemicals while taking care of Ecto- 1 but you’ve always worn latex gloves— he’s seen them hanging on the heater, next to whichever colorful apron you chose for the day. The only time you work with your bare hands is while cleaning the kitchen. Wiping the counters. Scrubbing the sink.

You’re busy looking at the molecules of Type IV, while he does some research on what he calls The Collective. The sight of your dry fingers keeps nagging him though— there’s no way a simple detergent affects the cells so much— so after replaying all possible scenarios in his head, he can’t take it anymore. He pauses.

“You don’t have to do the dishes”, he states out of the blue. “You know that, right?”

“Mhm.”

“Why, then?”

You swivel in your chair and look at him.

“I mean, why not? It’s like 20 minutes, tops. You come back to a tidy home and it costs me nothing.”

But it does cost you your hands, he wants to say. There’s no way it doesn’t sound creepy though, even by his standards, so he just acknowledges that with a hum and a thank you. Arguing is pointless. You’ll do whatever you want anyway. He’s not even here to make sure you take care of yourself while on duty.

What he does, however, is wait till the evening and inspect what that low- budget detergent is made of. He’s quick to spot the culprits. It’s a nasty fragrant and the artificial dye. No wonder your skin is irritated. That thing would be harmless if, instead of using your hands, you scrubbed the plates with a metal rod as a part of your morning routine.

Egon buys a new liquid— top shelf this time— and adds some stuff of his own. Some softeners. A nice scent. He pours it into the old bottle so that you don’t think twice. Just a precaution. In case you realized it wasn’t your soap and look for that terrible, skin- devouring slime. He places it near the tap. Then waits.

Over the following weeks he’ll diligently observe how your skin gets better every time you come down to the lab. He’ll see the rough edges get smooth. Fractured knuckles seal shut. Nails regain their shine.

He’ll notice how gentle your fingers are when you secure his slides under microscopic lens.

👻

On this particular Thursday everything goes wrong.

There’s a Class 2 Free- Floating Vapor who’s wildly attracted to funky shapes and vivid hues. It’s the ethereal kind: one whose molecular structure fluctuates. He pries on wallpapers, bedsheet and clothes, tears them up and snugs like an unhinged puppy. Catching him is comparable to squeezing slippery soap. What complicates things even more is that Peter has a clumsy day so even though they manage to trap the ghost, it slips out at the station because somebody forgot to follow a few basic safety tips. Cool. It’s all cool.

Egon knocks at the laundry room’s door. He enters. You’re inside, hanging freshly washed suits.

“We’ve got a situation”, he informs. “Please, wait in here for a few minutes.”

“Oh? You guys need help?”

“We’ll handle this. Venkman let the vapor out. It’s nothing.”

“Oh. Okay.” You straighten up and smooth your apron (it’s the yellow one, embroidered with bees— you wear it when you feel especially joyful and of course it’s got to be today). “I can help, if—”

“No. It’s all under relative control. Don’t worry about it.”

He waits for you to nod, then steps out and closes the door. Relative. Great phrasing, Doctor Spengler.

He powers up the proton pack. The faster they get rid of the ghost, the better. You won’t have time to get creative.

Peter’s pressing a gauze to his nose. It’s bleeding. Not from within though, looks like a cut and that’s relevant: if the vapor is capable of transferring molecules and strengthen bonds within different body parts at will, it could thicken its limbs enough to cause physical harm to humans. Class 2 are rarely aggressive— annoying, yes, destructive as well— but they aren’t interested in manhunt. Maybe this one’s been triggered enough to choose attack for defense.

“Who’s got the trap?”

“I do!” Winston kicks the pedal. “The stream won’t hold long enough though!”

Ray’s standing at the other side of the room, protecting their dear vehicle.

“We should stream it together from different angles! It won’t be able to wiggle out! Let’s try that and move him towards the trap in sync!”

“Baby, you’re lucky I’m a terrific dancer”, says Peter and aims at the ghost.

Egon assesses the situation. The vapor stays too close to the reception for their benefit— the massive wooden desk is going to be a great shield for the specter if they aren’t precise enough. The deeper they go within the station, the more damage they’ll cause. That’s not worth it. Too much precious stuff to risk.

They could try a bait. They’ll have to find some red herring and place it far away: ideally, further into the garage, near the door. Lots of space, no hiding spots. Relative damage control. Cheap repairs. No casualties, either.

He notices Janine’s scarf hanging over her chair: conspicuous, extravagant and frilled, covered in a cheetah pattern. A perfect lure for the ghost. It’s still Janine’s— and she’s upstairs, taking cover in Tully’s office— and once it’s all over she’ll absolutely hate them for destroying her garment. She’d cut their ears off for it, if she could. Luckily, she’s too small for that. Radical.

“Yo! How can I help you, boys?”

For the Mother of—

Egon turns his head. It’s you— standing right at the door in that silly, yellow apron— because of course you are. Hell, you’re an embodiment of what a perfect live bait looks like in this scenario. However, your position (from the strategic point of view) is the absolute worst. You should either take off that apron immediately or move away— and move fast.

“Gear up!” Winston shouts to you. “He’s actually dangerous! Scratched Peter in the face!”

“Guess I was just too pretty!”

The vapor dashes in your direction. It’s quick. You grunt, try to dodge and fail miserably: its slimy claws reach your neck and graze your shirt in a failed attempt to rip off the perky apron. You growl and crouch before Ray chases the ghost off with a stream.

“Ah. Funk. Shite.”, you grunt. “I’ll get the proton pack!”

Egon can’t fucking believe it.

He eases down the proton rod and appears in front of you in a few long strides. No questions, no warning, he picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack— then proceeds to literally carry you away from the scene.

“What the heck?!” You yelp. “Let me go!”

“Over my dead body.”

Ray and Winston struggle to aim, Peter does more talking than shooting— as usual— so the vapor dissipates and the streams slide off of its ethereal body. The moment isn’t ideal for being a knight in the shining armor but it’s as good as any. Your safety is more important than a burned wall or Peter’s personal opinion (he surely has one— he saw you two— he did a double take).

All of that is irrelevant. What matters though, is that Egon is aware.

You’re close. Locks brush against his ear and your breath is hot on the nape of his neck. The air tingles his tiny hairs. It tickles, it’s distracting and he tenses up, fingers finding their way into your hair. Then, the scent of soap he planted for you reaches his nostrils— and it’s good, it means you’re taken care of. Your hands clutch his jumpsuit— on his shoulder blades, on his chest— and pull at his damp undershirt just because it’s there, right underneath, warm and soaked with sweat.

You’re holding on to him for dear life. You’re around him, everywhere, all at once and it takes every ounce of his willpower to stay focused.

He lets you go in the far corner of the garage. You slide off. Your numb hands linger on his patch and under his collar. Eyes lock.

For a split second he fights an urge to lean in— to press his forehead to yours, to feel you’re right there, safe, away from danger. He almost does. Then he sees blood on your collarbone and his face turns stark.

“What’s that?”

“Um”, you look downwards and tap the stain with your finger. “I don’t know.”

“He scratched you.”

“ I mean, it doesn’t hurt now, so—”

“He scratched you.”

Something within him shifts. He’s all fire and smoke, jaw set, breath hot, eyes sharp and unrelenting. His fists clench, knuckles whiten, a wave of heat reaches his ears— and in this moment he barely recognizes himself.

“Egon…?”

“Winston!” He yells. “Set the trap!”

Your hands grab his sleeve but the grasp is weak, unsure— as if you wanted to anchor him before he does something stupid. Egon vaguely registers that. The fabric slips away from your grip and he strides away, gaze fixated on the ghost. He supports the proton gun on his arm and aims.

Ray picks up on this change of demeanor immediately.

“Ho, someone’s pissed!” He chants. “We’re shooting on three!”

Peter seems to come round as well. He tosses the bloody gauze on the floor (the wound he got is a sleek, clean line, it doesn’t seem deep) and clenches his teeth.

“You envied my pretty face, huh?”

What happens next is difficult to put in the correct order. There’s a loud shriek, a flash of streams coming from at least three proton packs, a loud zap and a warm glow. There’s also a burnt smudge on the ceiling, stretching all the way from garage door to the reception desk, an armchair on the first floor that’s set of fire and — for some inexplicable reason— two bulbs have just exploded.

Janine and Louis run out of the office. Everybody’s quiet. Thick smoke comes from the trap and the air is still until the red light on it switches on.

“…It’s inside.” Winston sighs. “Are you guys okay?”

Ray does a one over. The overall damage is considerable but Janine’s already prancing around the armchair with an extinguisher and the ceiling— well, it’s not like any client ever pays attention to the ceiling, right?— so everything’s taken care of. Peter extends a thumb in a weak attempt to show it is, in fact, alright.

“Yeah. I’ll go get changed. More than enough for today.”

Egon turns his head towards you. You’re still standing right where he put you: far away from the scene, unsure and anxious. His head is still burning. How stupid of you, how reckless not to listen to his request— how much unnecessary stress, how much disaster— what an idiotic move to ignore an explicit warning—

Ray is a perceptive guy.

“I’ll handle the trap”, he says and leaves the garage first.

👻

You take off the apron, blood splatter tainting a bee you embroidered yourself.

“…Oh. I doubt it’ll come off.”

Egon lets you into his lab and closes the door.

“It will”, he assures you. “Here, change. I won’t look.”

“Thank you.”

He lets you swap your ripped shirt for one of his sweaters while he skims over the first aid kit. There must be some ectoplasmic residue around the gash. If he gets a good quality sample, he could run a few tests and see how the molecular transfer works in reference to changing the ghost’s state of matter. It’s a first. If they could figure it out, that would be a real breakthrough.

“I’m, uh. I’m decent.”

Egon picks up a petri dish, a bottle of antiseptic spray and some gauze pads. He sits in a chair right in front of you, rolls up his sleeves and leans over to inspect the wound.

A long red line runs over your collarbone, up to your neck. It’s fresh, red splatters specked across your throat and chest but despite the impact, it doesn’t seem dangerous. He’s relieved to see the other end of the scratch— it’s right above your chest. The hem of his sweater hangs a little loose on you, allowing easy access. Thank God for small mercies.

The light is dim. It’s the blue glow he uses when he needs to focus. Crisp air wraps around him like a blanket. Drawers and tools are outlined by its faint radiance, particles of dust only fleeting in proximity— the specks move slowly, lazily, as if they had the whole time in the world.

Egon takes his time as well. He disinfects his hands, picks up a cotton stick and leans into your personal space. Your body radiates with heat. He chooses not to think about it: instead, he works around the wound and collect samples. The tip gathers some of the ectoplasm left by the attack. He’s careful to avoid pressing against the slit— only prods at its edges, makes sure none of the cotton fibers get into your wound. Fingers brush against your neck. Your skin is warm.

You look up.

“Are you mad at me?”

“I don’t know what I am at you”, he exhales, then puts away the sample. He takes a scrap of gauze and soaks it with spirits. “It may sting.”

The cloth touches your skin. It’s cold and it burns.

“Eesh. Oof.” You nod. “Yeah, that’s the feeling.”

“Familiar?”

“Ah. Scout camps. We’d get a lot of these. Scraping your way through the woods and all that.”

Egon frowns, meeting your gaze.

“Weren’t your uniforms designed to protect you from those?”

“A cotton button- down skirt? Knee- length? Seriously.”

“…Okay, I can see your point”, he snorts— and you chuckle too, glint in your eyes — and it’s warm in his chest.

He cleans the gash way longer than necessary. Your skin seems so fragile up close. Drops of liquid sanitizer glide against it, guiding him through the task. He runs over them with gentle pads again and again, smearing the antiseptic into an even coat. Delicate swipes leave smudges, which’s irregular lines shapes gleam on your skin. The wound looks a little better. It’s a cue. He doesn’t stop.

“Egon, I’d like to thank you for all of this”, you almost whisper. “I know I screwed up. I’m terribly sorry. I should have been wiser and stay where I was told.”

He frowns. He was mad at you before you came down to the lab. He should still be mad at you but hormones are like tides— they rise and retract, they take over, then dissipate— and he’s just not feeling it anymore.

“We’re good”, he murmurs. “I’ve neglected the issue myself. I should teach you how to use our equipment. Accidents will happen. It’s imperative you’re capable of defending yourself.”

“You’re the experts though. I keep forgetting my place.”

“You’re not bound to a place. You’re a person, not a pet.”

There’s a slight swift in your expression. He doesn’t look— doesn’t dare, really, his demeanor is all too bothering— but your whole body relaxes, as if dead weight just fell off your chest.

“It’s been a long day but at least you got the sample, right? A silver lining?”

Egon looks at you. He’s met with a smirk but— heck, it must be the adrenaline residue or some unusual distress (he’s gotten considerably better at reading your emotions as of late)— he can’t interpret whether you’re being honest or sarcastic. Thin ice. Better make sure.

“Um. Was it wrong of me?”

“Silly”, you let out a laugh. “Not at all. I’m glad, as stupid as it sounds.”

He shivers but manages a smile. It’s chemistry or biology, one of the two. Ridiculous.

Both of you fall into comfortable silence. He finishes patching you up, while you’re just sitting there, looking over the lab. Your neck is close. Breaths mingle. It’s soft and warm. He could stay like that for the rest of the evening but there’s only so much proximity he can go away with (or handle) at once so he leans back.

“That’s all. Keep it dry. Clean in again before you go to bed.”

“Thanks. I’ll go put your jumpsuits in the laundry.”

“Yes.”

He raises from the chair but feels a grasp on his hand. He looks at you and freezes. You seem to purposefully avoid his gaze but dare to lift his fingers to your lips in a gentle motion. He’s not prepared for this. His mind is blank. He—

“No. I mean it”, you press your cheek into his knuckles, eyes squeezed shut. “Thank you for taking care of me, Egon. I owe you again. At this rate, I’d better start paying it off or I’m going to be in debt for a long time, huh?”

No, he wants to say. You owe me nothing, but he can’t utter a word so he watches you stand up, offer a smile and leave, snugly wrapped in his sweater.

There are some noises upstairs. They’re foggy. Later, he’ll be pretty sure Ray called his name at some point but the only thing he registers tonight is loud white noise, an ache in his ribs and warmth in his temple. He carries it to the kitchen, where he eats eggs for supper— then bathroom, where he takes a long shower— then his bed when he goes to sleep. He leaves his flip- flops on the floor but the feeling slides with him under the covers.

It’s late. It should go away, dissipate, but it doesn’t. He counts sheep, tries meditating and stretches every breath to ridiculous extends. It doesn’t help though: it’s still there, strong, unrelenting, it keeps him awake for at least two more hours.

He’s not stupid. He recognizes the symptoms.

He just doesn’t recall struggling with them so damn much.

_____

For those who have already read it: SORRY for posting it again, I just wanted to make it easier for people who exclusively use Tumblr to get to know this piece of fanfiction ;__; Have a great day, thanks for putting up with my antics, I LOVE YOU ALL

#egon spengler #egon spengler imagines #imagines #writing prompts #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #ghostbusters #self insert #reader insert #egon spengler x you #egon spengler x reader #harold ramis #imagine #im a simp

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