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blondeboyfriend · 1 year

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𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] DIO x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] This is for @cherrykamado's Scumbags Collab. Thank you so much for letting me join and giving me an excuse to write a morally reprehensible insert! I mean... she's not that bad. (Yes, this is a repost.) [ SYNOPSIS ] A strange man has an even stranger proposition. [ WORD COUNT ] 6.5k [ CONTENT ] Canon AU, y/n is a stand user, innocent people get killed, size kink (y/n is implied to be on the taller side though), fingering, finger sucking, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, blood, knifeplay, creampie.

“I think we’re being followed,” your date said nervously.

It was just past midnight, a brisk night in your city. You had spent most of it languishing in various bars with some guy, one whose name you didn’t bother to remember. He was a momentary meal ticket, one to be tossed aside the second you were bored.

So far he had proven to be overwhelmingly uninteresting, talking mainly about his job as a security guard and being a single father to four children. Under any other circumstances you would have ditched his ass, but you were plagued with hunger. You planned on goading him into buying you some street food once he shut the fuck up.

“I think you’re tripping,” you replied, voice full of smug confidence.

There was no way you were being followed. Earlier that evening you deployed your stand, A Deal With God, to keep watch while you made your way through the city streets. The extra layer of security allowed you to relax in the absence of surprises. It was like having an extra set of eyes to see through… Sometimes even more than that, as your stand’s true form was a glowing cluster of iridescent black wings with three indigo eyes at the center.

“I’m serious. Some jacked blonde guy.”

“You sound insane,” you said as your palms began to sweat. “C’mon. Let’s go eat something.”

He shook his head. “I’m not hungry. Why don’t we go dancing?”

You frowned, but decided to play along. You stepped into a high-end nightclub, and immediately got assaulted by flashing lights and the indecipherable, mechanical squelches of some acid house remix.

“Oh my god, I love this song,” your date cheered.

You rolled your eyes and mumbled something about going to the bar. A complete lie as you were actually going to the bathroom to figure out a new game plan. You brushed past a few people before glancing out the window, spotting a tall, foreboding figure leering at you from the other side of the street.

You briefly glared and slipped away into the bathroom, shutting yourself away in a stall. You took a seat on the toilet and held your head in your hands.

“Head’s killing me. Just wanna eat,” you whined, snapping your fingers.

A Deal With God appeared in the cramped stall, its large eyes fixed on you. It looked about as weary as you did.

“Figure out if that weird guy in the street was actually following us. I don’t think he was but… fuck it. Might as well be sure. Not like you got anything better to do, right?”

“Veeerrrrry trrrruuuue,” it drawled after turning into a mirror image of you.

You very well could have sent your stand out in its true form, but you worried that one day you’d come across someone that could actually see them when they were a mass of wings and eyes.

A Deal With God turned around and kicked the bathroom stall door open, and marched back out into the club. You carefully shut the door and resumed your previous position, trying to relax. You thought about your empty fridge and bare cupboards, cursing yourself for not going grocery shopping earlier that week. Paying for your own food was always an option, but you preferred to spend your money on things that lasted, that were more tangible.

You groaned. “Fuck it. I’ll go buy my own damn—”

Before you could even finish your sentence A Deal With God kicked the stall door in, making it fly off its hinges. The door hit you square in the nose.

“What the fuck?!” You said, wiping away the stream of crimson blood dripping from your nostril.

“Th—there—I—I saw.”

“You saw what?!”

“Th—th–the man.” You could barely understand a word it was saying as its teeth chattered away. “He found me. One second he was outside, the next h—he was behind me.”

The poor thing dropped its human facade before simply disappearing into the ether.

“Shit,” you said, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Shit!”

You stumbled out of the stall and scanned the crowd for your date and the strange man. They were nowhere in sight and you made a beeline for the exit. You ran down the street, still pinching your nose even though it didn’t help in the least. The cold breeze stung your skin and heightened your anxiety. Everything around you felt like a threat.

The vast nature of the street made you uneasy so you sought refuge in a more sequestered area, ultimately settling on an alley. Your eyes darted around, checking for any unwanted presences, before slipping into the darkness.

“How did he sneak up on me?” You asked no one in particular.

You snapped your fingers and A Deal With God appeared before you. Its numerous eyes looked terrified and wet.

“Stop being scared,” you said, knowing full well your stand’s demeanor was your own doing.

But what could you do? You were utterly spooked. You didn’t have a lot of enemies, but you weren’t exactly a magnet for pleasant people. There was no way the man following you held good intentions. And the more you thought about it, the less safe you felt in a poorly lit alley. Who would’ve thought?

A Deal With God fluttered about before peering out into the street. It turned to you and used one of its wings to gesture towards a nearby nightclub. It seemed like a decent enough place to disappear.

You tore across the street as fast as you could and barrelled through the club’s entrance. You were surrounded by a thick haze of tobacco and cloves, and you could feel the rumbling bass emanating from the large speakers positioned throughout the space. It wasn’t nearly as abrasive as the first one.

Before you could even sigh in relief you spotted the strange man across the room. Initially you felt paralyzed with fear, like your legs were going to give out from under you. Every hair was standing on end. Your stomach was eating itself, churning away into nothing.

The man smirked.

Of course he was positioned by the only exit, essentially cornering you inside the club. You found it in you to move and bolted up the stairs, hoping you could lose yourself in the crowd and make your way out a window.

You were disappointed to see the upper floor wasn’t nearly as populated as the other. Suddenly you felt a chill climb your spine and a pair of large, cold hands on your shoulders.

“There’s no point in running from me,” the man whispered in your ear.

His hushed tone was like a siren’s song, dragging you out to sea.

“I just want to talk. That’s all.”

He spoke to you like you were a child, though considering how scared you were it wasn’t a bad course of action.

He whispered. “You seem smart. You’re capable of having a little talk, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said shakily. “What do you want to talk about?”

Your words were stilted and it left you feeling powerless.

“I’m interested in your special ability.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He dug his talon-like nails into the flesh of your shoulders. “I’m certain you do.”

“And what if I don’t want to talk about my special ability?”

“Trust me. You will.”

His tone was threatening. Your eyes darted around, hoping someone was showing some form of concern for you and your current situation. But not a soul seemed to care. You swallowed hard, it was like a rock had wedged itself in your throat.

“I wanna talk here. I’m not letting you drag me off somewhere.”

If you weren’t so scared, you might have laughed at your remark. Depending on his intentions you would not have minded if the beautiful stranger dragged you off into the night.

He released you from his grasp and walked ahead of you towards the corner of the room furthest from the stairs. You followed after, staring at his statuesque shoulders, muscles barely contained by his cropped black shirt made of indeterminate mesh material.

“Okay, what?” You asked, desperately trying to hide your nerves.

The man leaned against the wall. “Tell me about it.”

“Can you give me, like, a prompt? A question? Some direction? What do you want to know?” You sneered, putting your hands on your hips.

The man was growing frustrated with your attitude. You could tell and you weren’t sure if you wanted to maintain your faux bravado. Was rousing the weird man for your own sick pleasure worth potentially dying by his hand? You didn’t know what he was capable of. And it’s not as if you were having much fun.

“Why are you being so hostile? It’s unbecoming.”

You exploded. “You were following me around like a fuckin’ creep! Tell me you wouldn’t be a little on edge if you were following yourself around!”

He raised an eyebrow in amusement. “I suppose you have a point.” He stood closer to you effectively boxing you in. “Funny you mention that considering you’re capable of following yourself around.”

You backed up, bumping into the wall. The man seemed to have no concept of personal space. Though you had to admit it wasn’t completely unwelcomed. The longer you looked at him, the more you felt yourself craving his touch.

His golden blonde hair seemed to move on its own, ebbing on incomprehensible breezes. You noticed not a window was open nor was any fan blowing the hot air around the room. There was no way what you were seeing was real.

“Yeah, and?” You asked, trying to shove your racing thoughts out of your mind.

“How long have you—”

“Ever since I was a kid. Can I ask why you care?”

He brushed a few errant strands of hair from your face, his fingers were soft and the color of fresh cream.

You felt like his red eyes were staring right through you. “Go ahead.”

You smacked his hand away. “Why do you care?!”

“I already told you.”

“I don’t remember.”

“How could you not remember? I literally just told you.”

“I don’t know. You’re not very memorable,” you lied.

He narrowed his eyes and exhaled. “I said I was interested in your special ability. I could use someone like you.”

“For what? Something fucked up?” You taunted, anticipating some disgusting act. “You gonna force me into depravity?”

His annoyance was palpable, filling the room and drowning you in it.

“If that was my intention, I wouldn’t have wasted my time talking to you.”

You felt like a coyote with its paw rotting in a trap.

“Good point. M—may I ask what you need me for?” You asked, forcing a smile.

“I’d rather not discuss that here. Come with me to my suite.”

He spoke so plainly and with such confidence. He annihilated any defense mechanism you had, rendering them useless. If any other person dared to be so bold, you would have kicked them in the taint. But he was different, otherworldly even. The longer you looked at him, the more you felt compelled to stick around. You had never encountered someone so alluring, someone capable of bewitching you with ease.

“I promise I won’t hurt you,” he said.

Apparently the trepidation in your face wasn’t something you could mask.

“Nah, like… I know.”

His lips curled into a foreboding smile.

“Let’s go,” he purred, placing his hand on your back and guiding you out of the nightclub.

His hand was cold, the chill traveling through your jacket. Once outside you tried to get the attention of a cab driver with little luck. Much to your chagrin a drunkard positioned right next to you managed to hail one with a simple wave of his limp hand.

The blonde seemed to take personal offense and grabbed the man by the back of his collar and tossed him aside like he was a mere rag doll. The drunk’s limbs flailed as he was sent through the window of the nightclub. It all happened so fast and you nearly got lost in the chaos. If it weren’t for the blonde pulling you into the cab you likely would have stood there in shock, mouth agape, until the cops showed up.

“Whoa, whoa!” The frightened driver cried out. “What the actual fuck was that?”

You looked expectantly at the strange man, curious as to how he would explain away his behavior.

“Drive.”

“Wh—what? Dude! You can’t just do some shit like that and expect me to be okay with it!”

“Why not?” He laughed.

“Because it’s fucked up! You could've killed the guy,” the driver said, pointing at the bleeding body hanging halfway out the nightclub window.

“And? Was he important to you?”

“No. I don’t know him. But I don’t have to know someone to think what you pulled was rude!”

“It was more than rude,” you said matter-of-factly. “Not that I’m complaining. I’m just happy to be out of the cold.”

The blonde smirked and scooted closer to you, eschewing his seatbelt.

He redirected his attention to the terrified cab driver. “Drive or I’ll kill you.”

“Dude, can you at least tell me where?!”

The blonde clenched his fist. “... I guess.”

The drive was spent in relative silence. The nervous cab driver flapped his jaws on occasion, posing benign questions. He quickly clammed up after receiving a few glares from the strange man through the rear view mirror. Paying attention to their tension made your stomach hurt so you focused on the barren trees that lined the city streets, their leaves rotting in rusted gutters.

“I feel like fall came faster than usual,” you pondered aloud.

Neither of the men responded, too wrapped up in their own bullshit.

The barren trees ceased, soon replaced by evergreen ones unnatural to the concrete cityscape. You sighed, unsurprised by the fact your stalker was posted up in a ritzy area. However you were still wowed by the luxurious hotel and its sprawling design as the cab pulled up to the curb. The alabaster facade glimmered under the everpresent streetlights. You contemplated getting the strange man drunk and robbing him once he passed out in a haze of whiskey.

“That’ll be forty bucks,” the cab driver said, craning his neck around to look at the two of you.

Rather than pay the driver, the blonde jammed two of his slender fingers into the man’s neck and sucked the life out of him. You stared wide-eyed and mentally begged your body to move, to jump out of the car and run back to your boring date.

“Let’s go,” the blonde murmured, exiting the cab.

You stepped out and whined as the autumnal breeze chilled your bones. Despite the blonde’s apparent cruelty, he wrapped an arm around you. It didn’t do much considering his body was cold to the touch, but you appreciated that he hadn’t opted to kill you for shivering.

“Aren’t you cold?” You asked.

“Not really,” he responded, not bothering to look at you.

He led you inside the hotel and into a gilded elevator. The interior was mirrored, forcing you to confront your situation. You looked positively miniscule next to the hulking blonde. You weren’t a tiny person by any means, but the strange man was just that big.

“You never told me your name.”

“I didn’t, did I?” He said coolly.

“Yeah. It feels, um, weird not knowing it.”

“There’s a subset of people that delight in lacking that kind of information.”

You gazed up at him and grimaced. His red eyes met yours. The elevator pinged, alerting you of your arrival, and the doors slid open.

“It’s Dio.”

The suite was beautiful with floor-to-ceiling windows, giving a breathtaking view of the city. You only knew this because you peaked behind the thick, ornate curtains that shielded the room.

Everything was concealed in darkness, the only light coming from the world beyond the window through the little crack you created. Dio was quick to slink around, lighting candles, to give the suite a warmer touch.

“You got a migraine or something? A hangover?” You asked, coming out from behind the curtains.

“Sure.”

You inhaled the cloying scent of sandalwood. “Liar.”

He smirked and took a seat on a chaise-lounge, essentially draping himself over it like a fancy throw blanket. He beckoned you near. You sat on the very edge, keeping some distance.

“Do you know anything about Anubis?”

“That dog god guy?”

“In a sense.”

“Yeah, uh, I don’t know a damn thing about him.”

“Hmph. What about art theft?”

“... Again, not a damn thing.”

“Are you much of a reader?” He said, sitting up.

“Depends.”

He got up and returned with two books: Rogues in the Gallery: The Modern Plague of Art Thefts and Teach Yourself Egyptian Mythology.

He stood over you smugly. “Read these and we’ll talk once you’ve finished them.”

“You want me to read two books right now?”

He yawned and stretched his arms over his head. Your eyes lingered on his chiseled abdomen.

“You can do it,” he said, walking away. “I believe in you.”

His words did little to inspire you, especially because he punctuated them by closing the door to his bedroom. You felt shut out and vulnerable. How were you supposed to read two books come morning?

Lucky for you Dio slept through the day, giving you ample time. He traipsed out of his room as you scanned the final pages of the required reading. He was in a pair of burnt umber-colored silk shorts that left little to the imagination.

“You must have been tired,” you said as you closed the book about art theft. “This book was boring as shit, by the way.”

“I know. I didn’t even bother finishing it.”

“Then why have me read it?!”

Dio’s expression practically screamed, Because I fucking could. He smiled and resumed his place next to you on the chaise.

“Hush,” he said, holding a finger to your lips. You thought about biting it off. “I’m trying to steal a shamshir.”

“A what?”

“It’s a type of sword.”

“Should have made me read about swords then,” you muttered.

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Is it like… your swor–I mean, shamshir?”

“Absolutely not, but it should be,” he said, his voice sickly sweet. “I’ve heard a great power is bound to it.”

“I see.”

“And I’d like to possess that.”

“Uh-huh.”

You were barely paying attention to his words. All you could focus on was your throbbing clit and the wet spot blooming in your underwear. Everything about him exuded sensuality. The simplest movements, things that were not inherently sexy, sent you spiraling. You wanted to please him, to crawl into his arms and melt into him. You were completely at his will and you hoped he didn’t realize that.

“And I find it to be aesthetically pleasing.”

“An aesthetically pleasing shamshir for an aesthetically pleasing man. How quaint.”

“Oh, you find me to be aesthetically pleasing?”

“Why else would I come over?”

“How naive of me to think you came because you wanted to help me.”

“I never said I wouldn’t help.”

“So you are helping me,” he seemed to command.

Dio dragged his fingertips down his chest and along his abs before slipping them underneath his shorts.

“I also never said I’d do it for free.”

“Hmph.”

Dio stared into your eyes.

“You have,” he lazily held up two of his elegant fingers, “two options. I either pay you or I fuck you.”

“What about both?”

“No. It’s one or the other.”

“Are you really that good in bed?”

He gave a coquettish pout. “I’ll never tell. You’ll just have to take a chance, won’t you?”

Money was a fleeting notion in your life, more of a concept than something tangible. You usually kept yourself afloat by living off of eager to please boyfriends and rich women that thought you had a nice ass. A steady job was out of the question; you could never allow yourself to be tied down. Nothing could beat the high of being free. It came at a price though. Your rootless life wasn’t stable and frequently left you out in the cold.

You knew taking the money was the right decision, the smart one, the good one.

But you were never one to make good decisions, sound ones doused in logic. No, you were a idiotic hedonist deep down in your black hole of a soul. You sought out ecstasy in the shadows, always looking for an opportunity to submerge yourself in murky waters of desire.

Dio interrupted your minor moral dilemma. “Usually when they take this long it’s because they want to fuck me.”

He briefly tugged down his shorts, revealing a few wisps of dark pubic hair at the base of his cock.

“There’s no need to be shy,” he said, pulling you into his lap.

He had one hand on the small of your back and the other gripping your nape. He brought his face close to yours, his gaze hungry and expectant. Your stomach was fluttering; no one had made you feel like this before. You could barely form a coherent thought, too distracted by his touch. His hand slid down your back before settling on the crest of your ass.

Your eyes were trained on his lips as he spoke. “Why don’t I give you more time to think about it, hm?”

Words tried to fight their way out of your mouth, ones that begged him to act now. But you were silent, only giving Dio a slight nod.

He abruptly stood up, causing your body to collide with the floor. Your limbs a mere jumbled heap at his feet.

“We’ll break in tonight,” he said, staring down at you. “I’ll pay you once Anubis is in my hands.”

Dio’s suite wasn’t far from the museum. It was a short walk, a few blocks at most. There was little fanfare which left you vaguely disappointed. You had hoped it’d be a bit more exciting, more sexy. In your mind robbing a museum seemed like the sexiest crime, but the experience thus far was… pedestrian.

Even your inconspicuous outfits were yawn-worthy. You thought a man with such luxe taste would have more flourish, but no. He wore black 501s with a tasteful hole in the left knee and a tight black turtleneck. A ski mask rested on the crown of his head like a beanie. You had to admit it was practical and he wore it well.

“We’re close. Pull your balaclava down.”

You quickly yanked yours down, obscuring everything but your eyes. It smelled like Dio. You borrowed one from him along with a chunky black cashmere sweater that looked more like a dress on you. You had the sleeves folded up countless times so you could actually use your hands freely.

He pulled his down and let out a little sneeze as the fabric covered his nose.

“Bless you,” you giggled.

“... Thank you.”

The two of you took shelter behind a tree and scope out the employee entrance which sat at the back of the drab building.

“Kinda unimpressive. I didn’t even know this was a place, and I was born and raised here.”

“They don’t have anything of much importance.”

“Except that funky sword you want.”

He sighed. “Yes.”

The plan was to slip in through the back of the building. You would be going in alone, but only far enough to have Anubis’s location within your stand’s range. Dio didn’t mention where he would be exactly, but you assumed he’d be skulking around the entrance and keeping watch.

As the two you broached the museum’s parking lot a wave of nausea enveloped you.

“You’re not gonna leave me out to dry, if I get caught in there… Right?”

“You won’t get caught.”

His distinct lack of an answer did little to set you at ease. Your legs were shaking as he picked the shoddy lock. It was almost comical how easy everything seemed to be. The absurdity of it all wasn’t lost on you.

Once inside the situation didn’t feel as precarious. You deployed A Deal With God, letting your double stalk around the museum.

When seeing through your stand’s eyes you were rendered somewhat immobile, or at the very least distracted and sitting down. Invoking auto-pilot was an option, but standing around and doing nothing would have done nothing for your nerves. You decided to find a corner and take a seat.

The layout of the museum was a breeze to navigate. Dio hadn’t been lying when he reassured you how simple a task robbing the place would be. There wasn’t anything cool on display. Just poorly maintained antiquities and depressingly dusty tapestries that should have been under glass. The halls were dead quiet, disturbingly so. Every step you took felt like it carried the weight of the world.

“Oh thank fuck,” you whispered when you spotted a series of swords mounted on a wall.

You fast-walked to the display only to be greeted by the distinct lack of a shamshir.

“No.”

You stepped closer and carefully eyed each sword on the wall.

“C’mon…”

None of the blades were even slightly curved. You panicked and called off your stand, your consciousness returning to your physical body. You slowly pushed the door open and looked for any sign of Dio. Surely he would know what to do.

“Did that bitch leave me?” You whispered, unnerved by zero signs of the blonde.

But then you heard a familiar voice.

“Uh, sir, the museum is closed right now. I’m going to have to ask you to vacate the premises.”

Your eyes darted in the direction of the voice. You saw your date, the one from the night before, the father of four, lover of acid house, clad in a beige security uniform.

“Hey, wait. I’ve seen you bef—”

Before he could spit out his sentence Dio punched his jaw clean off. Your throat dried up, almost like you swallowed a bunch of cotton. You could barely remember how to breathe. You weren’t the biggest fan of your date, but he didn’t deserve to die.

A small squeak fought up your throat and alerted the blonde of your presence. He turned to you, red eyes seeming to glow from the slit in his balaclava. He cocked his head to the right, before asking, “What?” with a soft tone of voice. If he hadn’t done something so ghastly seconds before it would have been cute.

“Anubis isn’t there. It’s gone.”

“Oh,” he said. “Did you check the storage?”

You hated how casual he said it, how he made it sound like such an obvious thing to do even though you hadn’t discussed it previously.

“... No.”

He shooed you away and dragged your date's body out of view.

“What the fuck,” you whined as you shut yourself back inside the museum. “What the fuck am I doing.” You couldn’t even manage to say it like a question.

You resumed sitting in your previous spot and sent out your stand. The storage room was in the depths of the building down a spiral staircase. It was rusted and the metal squealed with every step. Once down you flipped a lightswitch and hoped there wasn’t a closed-circuit camera running somewhere.

You opened various cabinets and peered under plastic tarps covering poorly maintained sculptures. You felt a jolt of electricity when you finally came across Anubis. It was beautiful in its scabbard with its gold hilt and red jewels.

You sighed in relief and decided to let A Deal With God handle the rest, again returning your consciousness to your body. You could have cried when your stand presented the shamshir to you.

“Nice,” you said, admiring it.

You stood up and took it from your stand’s hands. You knew the right thing to do was to hand it right over to Dio, but you wanted to sneak a peek at the blade unsheathed. You pulled off the scabbard and marveled at its double-edge.

“... Is it ringing?”

You held the sword close to your ear and heard a distinct hum emanating from it. It didn’t take long for it to sound like it was calling out your name. You found yourself transfixed by your reflection in the blade.

I am the god of the stand Anubis, he who is upon his mountain. Lord of the sacred land. You have unsheathed me and now you will wield me.

You rubbed your forehead. There was no way the sword was talking to you.

You are now my body. In return I will make you a master swordsman.

Becoming a master of the sword never crossed your mind, but suddenly it felt like it had been a lifelong goal.

Not a soul will be stronger than you! Use me and kill!

You felt yourself swelling with pride, with validation, with incomprehensible joy. You felt like electricity was running through your veins, like you were unstoppable. You thought of your poor date and how Dio maimed his flesh without a care.

It enraged you, his entitlement. Why did he think he deserved to wield such power? He wasn’t fit to even gaze upon Anubis. Only you were worthy enough to slaughter with its exalted blade. To bathe in the blessed blood that would weep from your victims’ wounds.

You returned Anubis to its scabbard and set out to take down Dio. You found him outside, looking up at the sky. He turned his attention towards you.

“Ah, so you found it then?” Dio said, adjusting his balaclava.

You stared at him, eyes transfixed on his neck. You couldn’t wait to swing the blade through his skin and watch his pretty little head fall to the floor unceremoniously. You unsheathed Anubis and admired its blade.

Kill him. He is nothing in comparison to you. You’ll slice through his flesh like a hot knife through a pat of butter. Slaughter him! Do it now!

You raised the blade and went to slice Dio’s head off. However in a blink of an eye it was as if you were never holding Anubis in the first place.

“Tsk, tsk,” Dio said, returning the blade to its scabbard.

“Huh?” You said, looking down at your empty hands. “Wait…”

“I should have told you to keep it in its scabbard. My apologies.”

You tried to remember what had happened, why you felt a hint of vexation, but your mind was tabula rasa. “Di—did… Was I doing something?”

He placed his hand on your shoulder. “Don’t worry about it.”

You were thankful Dio’s suite wasn’t far from the museum. The whole experience left you exhausted. Once inside the hotel he took it upon himself to carry you up to his suite. He laid you down on his bed, giving you permission to sleep beside him. You started to undress yourself as he reflected on the night’s events.

“I didn’t realize how formidable Anubis was at possessing people,” he said, pulling his shirt over his head.

You yawned. “Is that why I tried to kill you?”

He nodded and unzipped his jeans before kicking them off, revealing that he skipped wearing underwear.

“Damn.” You exhaled to regain composure. “Well, fuck. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to apologize. It’s not like you would have been able to defeat me,” he teased, stroking his flaccid cock.

You looked up at him, his appearance like that of a god. He looked so handsome illuminated by candlelight.

It was true you stood no chance against him in a fight. He could crush your skull with his bare hands if he willed it. It left you a confusing mess of fear and passion. You wanted to be by his side even if it guaranteed you an early death or prison time. There was no need for self preservation so long as he remained ethereal.

He caught you staring at him and simpered. Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. He leaned over you and left you shrinking in his shadow. He ran his thumb along your jaw, his cold touch a welcome sensation.

“You’re so cute.”

He rubbed your bottom lip with the pad of his thumb before forcing it into your mouth.

“Suck.”

You rolled your tongue along the underside of his thumb.

“Good girl,” he cooed while stroking his cock.

It was girthy and of considerable length. The skin was smooth and pale, almost as if it was made of porcelain. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, completely overwhelmed by its presence.

He pulled his thumb from your mouth and got on top of you. He rubbed your clit through your underwear. The muscles in your thighs contracted. A small whine fell from your lips. You could feel his erection brushing up against your body. His dominance lorded over you, engulfing you and holding you hostage. He pushed your underwear to the side and slid two fingers inside you. He curled them, pressing up against the walls of your cunt.

Dio pressed his lips against your ear and purred, “It’s like you were always meant to be beneath me.”

You laughed nervously. “I guess.”

He let out a pleased hum and kissed your neck.

“There’s no need to be nervous,” he said as he sat up.

Dio licked his fingers clean before pulling off your underwear. He stared down at your aching cunt with pity. He lowered himself and positioned his face in between your legs. With a single swipe of his tongue you were utterly mesmerized. He gave your clit slow licks with a soft tongue. You felt like your heart was pounding against your chest.

You watched as he arched his back while he ran his tongue between your folds. His ass was magnificent.

You threaded your fingers through his blonde hair and rubbed his head, letting your hand rest on the base of his skull.

“Feels good,” you babbled.

He looked up at you, gaze radiating warmth. It was the first time he’d ever granted you such softness. It quelled your anxiety and you were able to let yourself relax, something you had not done since Dio came into your life.

You felt weightless, like you were floating above the clouds. The pleasure was insurmountable as he sucked on your clit, lapping up the sweetness of your arousal. He began to rut against the bed, driving his cock into the mattress. He moaned, his vocalizations vibrating against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he flicked the tip of his tongue against your throbbing clit.

Dio chuckled before giving your clit a kiss. He got back on top of you and grabbed ahold of your chin, forcing you to look him dead in the eye.

He smirked and asked, “Do you think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” you said in a rather pathetic tone of voice.

You were desperate and there was no hiding it.

He sank his cock down into your cunt. You wrapped your arms around him and held onto his upper back as he began to thrust. You could hardly catch your breath as he drove his cock deeper inside. Gone was the brief bout of tenderness, it was as if he couldn’t stop himself once his pleasure came into the picture.

“Ah—i—it’s too much,” you said, eyebrows knitted together.

“You can take it,” he grunted.

You clenched your jaw and tried to breath through the pain. It wasn’t that you didn’t like it, you just weren’t expecting it. No one had ever been so rough with you before. Most of your partners treated you like you were made of thin glass, but Dio manhandled you like you were made of diamonds.

He pulled down your bra revealing your breasts. He grabbed a hold of one, pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“Dio!”

He shushed you and began to suck on your neck, grazing it with his inhumanely sharp teeth. You yelped and all he did was chuckle. He started to fuck you harder, groaning as he bottomed out. You locked your legs around him, holding onto him like your life depended on it. You dug your nails into his back as his thrusts became more urgent. You gazed up at him, falling apart at the seams. He stared at you, almost as if he was plotting something.

Dio groaned. “Hold on,” he said, pulling his cock out of you.

He reached for something under the bed. You couldn’t imagine what he was searching for. Maybe a vibrator. Maybe a last minute condom. You really didn’t care. You were so close to coming all you wanted was him to be fucking your limp body into the mattress.

You were shocked when he pulled out a dagger. His eyes held a devilish gleam. You swallowed hard, trying to come to terms with your impending demise. You must have looked terrified because Dio started explaining himself.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m going to cut you.”

“Th—that sounds like it’ll hurt.”

He slid his cock back inside you. “You won’t feel a thing, my pet. It’ll be quick. I just need you to bleed for me.”

You nodded and focused on the sensation of his cock kissing your cervix. He bit down on the inside of his bottom lip and slashed you across the chest with the knife, leaving behind a superficial cut. Warm blood beaded out from the thin cut, sitting on your chest like tiny jewels. He let the knife drop to the floor.

Dio lapped up the blood flowing from the cut, moaning as he savored the taste. He was right. You felt no pain. It wasn’t anything close to that. It was ecstasy; you couldn’t register it as anything but delight.

You held his head close to your body as he continued to drive his cock into your glistening cunt. You felt like every cell in your body was singing, screaming out in euphoria. Your breathing grew laborious, and you caught yourself almost laughing as you ascended further and further into the heavens.

When you finally came you couldn’t help but think every moment in your life led up to this very one, that this pleasure, this rapture, was the end of it all. Nothing would top this, no one would ever make you feel this incredible again.

Dio gave your wound one last lick. “You’re mine now, you realize that don’t you?”

He tossed his head back as he filled your cunt with his cum. He collapsed on top of you and buried his face into the crook of your neck.

“You’re coming with me to Cairo. You’ll be of great use to me there.”

“What will I get out of it?”

“Me,” he replied proudly. “All you’ll ever need is me.”

Egypt didn’t sound so bad. You didn’t have any friends or family around. Nothing tied you to this place; you couldn’t even think of a single reason why you stuck around so long. You would have been lost without Dio. You never would have realized your power. Through his greatness you saw your own.

“All I’ll ever need is you,” you quietly repeated to yourself.

#dio brando x reader #dio x reader #jjba x reader #jjba smut #jojo's bizarre adventure smut #dio brando smut #dio smut #x reader #reader insert #.fics #.jjba #.dio

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tnystrk-exe · 3 years

Text

Estocolmo 3

Hannibal x Reader

Masterpost

First Chapter

Warnings: 18+ thigh riding, in a public setting, degration, cockwarming

Word count: 6k

Chapter Three

Maybe you hadn’t thought through about going to Hannibal’s dinner party. In the moment you had just missed the sound of his voice. His touch… Okay, you were motivated by other things than how much fun you would have at this little dinner party of his.

However you had to pull a lot of strings and work extra shifts, just so your bosses would even consider letting you off for a couple days. You were a valuable worker, one that would damage them to lose, but pettiness didn’t know any bounds. The stress was adding up. Still you trudged through it all. Not one to ever want to end up on Hannibal’s bad side.

You didn’t like making the perfect, polite ones angry. Loud anger you could handle. You were used to it. Quiet anger was just upsetting. He’d be upset you let him down, but he wouldn’t say it right. A soft sigh followed by a half meant it’s okay would probably be the most he’d give you. Disappointing him was a no go.

“I can’t wait for you to leave.”

“You’re so good at making me feel loved.”

“You know I do!” She laid back in your bed, arm’s comfortably behind her head, “But since you planned yourself a date. I did too.”

You grabbed clothes and threw them into a small duffel bag. “The chick from work?”

“God I wish. Can't work up the courage.”

“Don’t tell me you called up Reggie,” you laughed.

“Don’t tell me you got called up by Hannibal,” she mocked your voice. “Look! We’re a team! You can get dicked by someone that doesn’t deserve you. And I’ll romance a very pretty woman the entire weekend.”

“When is she getting here?”

“I’m shooting the text the second you’re out that door.”

You sighed, “You replace me so easily.”

“Oh baby,” she cooed, “Remember who’s leaving who.”

“A couple of days. You could be lonely for a few days.”

Alex walked you out. Stressing that you had to text her throughout your drive. It was only a three hour drive, but a lot could happen within that time.

All in all it wasn’t a bad trip. Monotonous without your usual partner in the passenger seat, but not bad. Your nerves bit at you. Hannibal’s social presence really was everything to him. Your head ran though countless ways you could mess up the night. Ultimately you wouldn’t, you knew that, but your brain sure did like to torture you with the idea.

“Everything will be fine,” you told yourself as you parked alongside the manor. Staying in the car for a moment you built yourself up. It was Hannibal. He knew about your home life. How you took your coffee. The things you’ve allowed him to do to you. Probably some understanding of things that he hadn’t done to you yet. A knock on your window pulled you out of your thoughts.

Opening the door you got out of the car.

“You weren’t thinking of running away, I hope,” Hannibal greeted.

“I wasn’t. Nerves,” you admitted. “It’s usually just the two of us, y’know…”

“Darling,” he scoffed, adjusting a piece of your hair, “I have no doubt in my mind that my companions wouldn’t adore you as much as I do.”

You moved to grab your bag, only for Hannibal to immediately take it from you. “You say that now, but that’s only because you’ve become accustomed to that certain charm I have at three in the morning after a night of studying. I’m not sure I can be as adorable to all of your friends.”

“Anyone that thinks otherwise has no place in my home.” Hannibal grabbed your hand in his own, leading you to the manor.

Once the front door closed, he wasted no time pulling you close. The kiss was long and rough. Both attempting to make up for lost time in the limited minutes you had. A soft moan from you made him press you against the door, the bag that had been in his hand long forgotten. His hand pressed lightly against your throat as he pushed a knee in between yours.

It was a long while before he pulled away. He rested his forehead against yours. “I’ve missed my favorite plaything,” He spoke into the shared air, “You’ve been away so long.”

“Your favorite?” You asked, looking at him dazed.

He smiled, mischief in his eyes. “I’d wager they couldn’t kiss you so well you’d look at them like they hung the stars after.”

“I do not!”

“Of course you don’t, darling.” He picked up your bag. “Come, we should start getting dressed.” You followed Hannibal up the stairs to his room. Apparently yours too, at least for the next couple of nights, since he emptied the contents of your bag into an empty dresser drawer. “You’re more than welcome to explore if you do get uncomfortable. I know meeting a sea of people can feel overwhelming.”

“I’m just afraid I’ll be out of place.”

“You’re exactly where I want you to be,” he disappeared into the walk-in closet, “The other’s are decent enough people. However, it makes sense that such divine beauty doesn’t fit in amongst commoners. I’d never dream of you finding yourself their equal.”

You walked over to examine the drawings he had hung on the wall next to his bed. “I’m not sure I’m worthy of such high thought.”

He came back, placing the suit and dress onto the bed. Standing behind you, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his head on your shoulder. “I really do mean it, beloved. You’re strong and intelligent. As much as I’d like to, you won’t allow me to pull strings and help you. That’s more than most of the crowd coming over tonight. They haven’t faced hardships like yourself and I. Don’t allow yourself to be treated less than and, please, tell me if anyone makes you feel that way.”

You turned your head, kissing his cheek. “I’m not sure I believe it, but I’m grateful for the thought.”

“I simply must make it my mission to prove it.” He inhaled deeply, “You’ve changed your perfume?”

“I liked the one you bought,” you said simply, getting out of his arms, you looked at the dress he had gotten you. The piece of fabric was easily the most expensive thing you owned now. It didn’t match his suit, but the two certainly complimented each other. “You really didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” he went to open another dresser drawer, pulling out a small box, “Consider it all a graduation present. You worked hard and deserve a reward for it. We didn’t get a chance to see one another before you left.”

“You’ve had these since then?” You asked.

“Of course. How could I resist an opportunity to find you a gift? And with Alex so graciously allowing me to buy you a dress, I figured tonight would be a wonderful time to give you your gift.” He opened the jewelry box.

“Hannibal,” you gasped quietly, the jewelry glimmered brightly, “It’s beautiful.” Usually you weren’t one for objects, but this was also the most thoughtful thing you’ve ever received. Hannibal had taken the small bits he knew of you and picked out the perfect pieces of jewelry for you. It was the feeling of being known so well that made it special.

“The second I saw this set I couldn’t help but think of my darling girl. Would you like me to put the necklace on you now?”

You quickly shook your head, “After I get dressed, please. I wouldn’t want to risk dirtying it while I’m getting ready.”

“In that case, I’ll show you where you can get ready.”

You grabbed the things you needed to make yourself look presentable and followed Hannibal to the bathroom. To your surprise he started to undress after he hung up his suit and your dress. You shrugged it off and set your stuff on the counter, you were more than comfortable with him and you and Alex had taken to doing similar in your cramped bathroom early mornings. The shower turned on while you took out your makeup. His humming filled the otherwise quiet room.

When you were pleased with how your makeup looked, you moved on to fussing with your hair. The shower shut off and your eyes wandered briefly in the mirror. You watched the show as he dried off his chest and followed the towel up as he dried his hair. He caught your eye, brow raised, you shrugged and sent a wink his way.

You got undressed, tossing your clothes in the hamper as you did. Walking over to the dress you felt the fabric between your fingers, studying the intricate pattern that was sown on to it.

“You don’t like it, darling?” Hannibal asked as he buttoned his shirt. “There’s another in the closet, but I was hopeful you’d like this one. You'd look stunning.”

“Admiring,” you stated simply, “Wait there’s another?”

“There’s a show, I’d like to see tomorrow. I figured it could be an outing for us.” He checked himself over before styling his hair. “This is ‘Making it worth my while’ as Alex said.”

“Han, you know better than to listen to Al.” You sighed, “I’m grateful, I honestly am. It’s just embarrassing. I really can’t give you anything in return.”

Hannibal came over to you, holding one of your hands in his. “They’re simple trinkets of my affection. In the end they all mean nothing. YN, you grace me with your presence and time, which is something that can never be repaid in form. I hold you dearly, your time is more than I deserve.”

You stood on the tips of your toes kissing him gently. There was all the time later for a rougher touch. Now you just wanted to feel him pressed close against yourself. A brief flick of thought asked if you really wanted this to just be a fleeting thing between friends. Pulling away, you gave him one final kiss to the side of his mouth.

“You’re allowed to give me one gift a month,” you teased, as you grabbed his tie and set to work on tying it for him. “You’re not my sugar daddy, as much as Alex wishes you were.”

“And you’re welcome to set as many rules as you’d like when it comes to this. However, what’s forcing me to follow them?” His hands grazed along your sides, “We both understand who makes the rules, don’t we little one?”

The part of you that had become accustomed to that particular tone, faltered slightly. “Hannibal, we’re not always in sessions,” you reminded him as you tightened the tie, “You can’t just have your way.”

“Why not?”

You shook your head, annoyed, “Or you can do what you’d like. It’s your wallet after all.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized immediately, “I don’t want to offend you.”

You let it go, there was no use to fight over this. “It’s okay, you’re only teasing right?”

“May I please see you in the dress?” He asked, lightening the mood.

You turned, returning to the piece of elegant fabric. Carefully you pulled it on. He really was excellent when it came to fashion. The dress hugged the right places and accentuated everything wonderfully. Hannibal stepped behind you once again. Zipping the back for you, his fingers trailing up as he did. Carefully, he moved your hair to the side as he fixed the necklace in place. Dipping his head down, he kissed that spot on your neck he had quickly learned turned you to putty in his hands. You leaned against him, angling your neck to give him better access as a soft moan escaped. His teeth grazed gently against your neck, he seemed to toy with the idea of making a mark before backing away. As much as he’d enjoy to see it blossom, he knew you had many first impressions to make.

You whimpered at the loss of contact. Suddenly realizing just how much you had missed him.

“I know, little one,” he sighed, pressing a kiss on the side of your ear, “but we have a night to get through. After this, I belong to you. We will have all tomorrow for each other.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

The dinner party was beautifully done. Of course it was. Hannibal never spared any expense, let alone when he was trying to impress. He had introduced you to a couple people, they were nice enough, but you just couldn’t find a connection with them. You definitely steered clear of Bedelia. That woman was intimidating to a whole other degree. Definitely someone you could actually see Hannibal going after. You wondered why he didn’t.

An hour into the dinner party, you slipped away. He had said you could explore and honestly, without him you weren’t much for conversation. You had already gotten a snide look for saying you worked at a bar on nights, but they didn’t hold much interest for you either. All the conversations you had heard were meaningless droning. People constantly trying to one up another or bragging about something new they acquired or some business deal.

So it was safe to say no one noticed your absence. Well maybe one extremely observant man.

You found yourself in his library, taking residence in a nook next to a window. Hannibal’s sketch book in your lap as you looked over his drawings. Each drawing looked like he must have spent hours on it. You marveled at his talent, watching the range go from almost romantic to grouesome. Some things could be recognized as his take on art pieces, and landscapes, while others seemed to be originals. The originals were darker in nature, but you supposed it made sense. He saw death as something comforting and could be considered beautiful. Of course it would translate into his pieces.

The door opened, revealing the man that occupied your thoughts at the moment. “Is everything alright, darling? No one bothered you, I hope.”

You smiled up at him. “I’m fine. I just wanted a break, I’m getting a little bit of a headache.”

“Oh?” He touched your forehead with the back of his hand, “Are you feeling well?”

“I’ll go back in a moment,” you promised himas you brought his hand down to press a peck onto it, “Go enjoy your party.”

“They can keep themselves entertained for a while.” He took a seat next to you, pulling you to rest against him. “I could use a moment too.”

You couldn’t stave off the smile that played on your lips to get to have him to yourself. He made you feel comfortable and honestly you were out of your element at this party. Hannibal rested his head against the wall. That left his neck vulnerable and you couldn’t resist placing a kiss on it.

“Why must you insist on acting up when we are alone, darling girl?” He hummed quietly, his hand entertained itself absentmindedly drawing things on your thigh.

“I missed you,” you insisted. “Not just like that. We used to spend a lot of time together.”

“It has been a long time. I’m sorry about that.”

“I had your number too. I’m not completely out of blame.”

“Well, you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” He tugged you closer, “You’re too far.”

You straddled one of his thighs, placing your hand on his shoulders. “I’m sure you have a couple ideas of how.”

“A couple.”

Leaning in you caught him in a kiss. His hand started to trail lower, you caught him by the wrist before he got to his destination, placing his hand back on your hip. With his original plan voided, he bounced his thigh against you, the hands on your hips helping you grind down. You couldn’t help the moan you let out. Letting him continue until you remembered the party happening not so far away.

“Hannibal,” you whined against his lips, “Not right now.”

“But you sound so sweet, darling, don’t mind them.” He continued his earlier assault on your neck, this time not thinking twice before sucking his mark onto it. “You look so beautiful tonight. I know you can give me one before we’re missed, you’re always so good for me. Don’t you want to be good?”

The growing lust clouded your judgement. Hannibal’s soft words and the gentle but perfect rhythm he was working on made it hard to find any reason to argue.

“Yes, daddy,” you sighed softly, “I want to be good for you.”

The door opened again, followed by a dramatic gasp, “Hannibal, having dessert before the rest of us?” The strange man eyed you, “Plan on sharing?”

Hannibal had been quick to tug down the dress that had rode up, keeping you safe from prying eyes. “Unfortunately, I’m not one for sharing. If you don’t mind waiting in the hall. I’ll meet with you in a second.”

“Oh, I’d much prefer to stay. Hello, what’s your name? Is Hannibal keeping you entertained?”

You hid your face against Hannibal’s shoulder, your face burning to the touch.

“Shy thing isn’t she, daddy?”

“I really must insist you leave now,” Hannibal said, the anger evident in his voice.

“Fine, killjoy.” You heard retreating steps and the door closed again.

“Of course out of everyone to find us it was the gossip,” he sighed to himself, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, “I’m sorry about that, love.”

“I told you not now,” you said, pulling away and going back to your seat beside him.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he kissed the back of your hand, “I thought we’d have a couple more minutes before someone looked for us, let alone find us. Let me handle this and then you’ll never see him again.”

You nodded. “Can I go to the room for the night? He made me feel… strange.”

“Darling,” he cupped your cheek, a sad look in his eyes, “this is your home more than anyone else out there. Don’t let him ruin the night for us. I’ll make sure he’s gone and stay by you the rest of the night. Does that sound okay?”

And true to his word he was, he had escorted the man out quickly once he found him. However the Gossip was apparently a fast worker, because a couple people did give you lingering looks. Though they were quick to save face if they so much as thought Hannibal noticed. Whatever they thought didn’t matter. You were two grown, consenting adults that enjoyed each other’s company, be damned what others thought. Throughout the night you kept telling yourself that, hoping to cut the embarrassment short. A couple times you caught yourself, thoughtlessly intertwining your fingers with Hannibal’s when you were less than sturdy. Each time he squeezed your fingers gently, quiet reassurance that he was there for you.

You woke up the following morning. Hannibal was still asleep beside you, it must have been early. He looked sweet in the mornings. Relaxed, not as stiff as he usually was, his hair sticking up in places he’d immediately flatten out once he woke as he greeted you with that deeper more accented voice that accompanied the mornings. You pressed a kiss to his chest, before carefully removing the arm that was sprawled across your stomach.

Looking at the clock, you considered the time. There was enough if you worked quickly. Standing up, you grabbed one of your shirts and shorts. After freshening up, you made your way down to the kitchen.

It was different. You hadn’t toured much of the home, let alone know where anything was, but you gathered your bearings fast enough. The things you needed had been placed somewhat similarly to his old home and you set everything onto the counter. Protein scramble, fruit, and pancakes seemed like a good option today. The pancakes, he had taught you to make when you asked where the box mix was and obviously he wouldn’t stand for you not knowing how to make something so simple from scratch.

Your phone played music as you set to work, washing the used dishes along the way so there wasn’t too much of a mess.

As you were plating the food, you heard Hannibal call out your name.

“Kitchen!” You called out.

He was quick to meet you, “Darling, I could have made you breakfast. You should have stayed in bed with me.”

“I couldn’t sleep any more and you looked too sweet to wake,” you poured two cups of coffee and prepared them to both of your liking, “Figured why not play domestic for a while.”

“How did you like it?” He asked, walking over to take the cup from you.

“Eh well you know, the domestic life,” you shrugged, feeding him a cut strawberry, “I like to let my partner sleep in on Saturday’s and make them comfort breakfasts. Sometimes they ruin breakfast in bed by coming down too early, but what can you do?”

He chuckled around the bite of strawberry, “I’m sorry, beloved. I’ll stay put next time.”

“Yes, you will.” You stood on the tips of your toes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “But I’m not too angry at you. I enjoy your company.”

His fingers toyed with the hem of your shirt. “Aren’t you usually sporting my shirts on these mornings?”

“I didn’t want to ruin one of them.”

“You couldn’t ruin a thing if you tried. I’ve got more than enough for you to steal away when you go back home too.”

“I only took them, because someone made a habit of messing up my shirts.”

“And your reasoning for keeping them, little one?” He grabbed the plates, “Come along, the mornings have been wonderful recently.”

You grabbed the cups. “You should’ve come and picked them up the same way I had. It’s your own fault they aren’t back where they belong.”

The afternoon was spent in each other’s company. Hannibal had insisted he’d wash the remaining dishes and asked you to pick up his sketchbook and pencils from the library since you were going to find yourself something to read. You did as asked, before returning outside. Setting his things on the table, you went to go sit in a sunny spot of grass.

It wasn’t long until Hannibal rejoined you outside and took a seat.

You glanced up curiously after a while, he was sketching away.

“Anything I can do for you, beloved?” He asked, not looking up from his work.

“Just watching.”

He hummed in response.

Some unease settled in your stomach when you remembered why exactly you were over here. What was the harm in voicing it? “Hannibal?” You waited until he looked up at you, “You’re okay that we haven’t slept together yet? I mean… I know that’s why I am here.”

It was true, the lingering looks you had gotten at dinner, paired with the small embarrassment of realizing one of Hannibal’s love bites got to bloom in front of them all threw you off at night. You had tried to let yourself go, let him have control of you for a while, but you couldn’t go past taking off some clothes and letting your hands feel the other. He didn’t mind when you didn’t want to do more. Always the gentleman. Instead he settled you against his chest, an arm keeping you close, quiet conversation and long breathtaking kisses filled the night.

“I’m not one of those little boys you’ve found,” he stated, seeming to be mildly offended, “I enjoy our quiet moments just as much, if not more. Sex is something else we could do together, nothing more. It’s not everything, little one. You’re not here for that purpose. What I enjoy is your company and I’ll take it any way you give it.”

You tilted your head looking at him closely, he mimicked you, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. That made you laugh softly, you decided he was being honest and not covering up his disappointment with sweet words. Patting the grass next to you, “Sit with me.”

“YN…”

“Please?” You asked, sweetening the pot with a pout.

He shook his head but gathered his things, soon joining you. Resting your head on his shoulder you looked at what he was sketching. The scene was you at the present moment. Half faced toward him, book in hand, completely relaxed, and more perfect than you ever dreamed of being.

“That’s an exaggeration, I’m not that beautiful.”

“That’s where we must differ, my love,” he kissed your temple, “Try as I might I’ll never be able to draw you with the dignity you deserve. It’s a poor imitation of the way I perceive you.”

“You’re a ridiculous man,” you said fondly, “Though I suppose I’d like to keep you around a while longer.”

“Suppose” he scoffed, “ You’d be lost without me.”

You stuck your tongue out at him childishly and went back to your book.

“Darling, I do adore when you take care of yourself, but we’ll be late if you don’t hurry,” Hannibal said, leaning on the bathroom’s door frame already dressed for the outing.

“It’s not my fault you always manage to get the bath perfect,” you groaned, getting out of the bathtub.

Hannibal walked over, grabbing a towel on his way. “I’ll run you another later.”

You took the towel, drying yourself off. It was nice to see a rare impatient Hannibal. There was more to that calm and collected demeanor he usually had. “You’re cute when you’re excited about something. Where are we going?”

“I got us tickets to the opera.”

“Really!” You lit up at that. When he talked about the shows he had seen before, he’d get so much more animated. It would be nice to experience one with him. “Which one?”

“Die Entführung aus dem Serail,” he answered, taking you in with a smile, “but darling, your excitement may go to waste, I’m afraid.”

“I’ll be quick!”

With you keeping your promise and Hannibal’s quick driving, it didn’t take anytime to make it to the opera house. There was time to spare and Hannibal socialized a bit, introducing you to other regulars. You exchanged pleasantries and let Hannibal control the conversation as you looked around the place. Some people you recognized from last night. One person you saw nod towards you whispering something to his companion.

“I didn’t think he’d be one for cradle robbing,” you caught the man say, as he eyed you up, “Lucky man. Reckon I could steal that little piece away?”

You subtly moved closer to Hannibal, feeling the heat rise to your face.

Hannibal turned his attention to you when the others started talking amongst themselves. “Are you alright?” He asked quietly, tucking away a strand of your hair that fell out of place.

“Yeah. I’m great,” you lied, knowing he’d probably take offense to any minute comment made about whatever kind of relationship the two of you had.

“Are you certain?” The tone of voice saying he knew you were hiding something. He always seemed to read you so easily. In that he knew you’d continue to deny anything. “Would you like to go to our seats now? The show should start in a couple of minutes.”

“Yes, please.”

Hannibal grabbed your hand in his, leading you away from the crowd. To your surprise he took you to a private balcony above the rest of the audience seating. “Since, it’s your first time, I figured privacy would do us well. No distractions,” he paused for a moment, “No one to get into that pretty little head of yours.”

“I just don’t enjoy all the looks and comments,” you sighed, allowing him to pull you down onto the seat with him. “I love spending time with you. It’s just soured by people that don’t mind their own.”

“It’s not ideal, but we mustn’t let them ruin our nights. With this kind of community, people make assumptions and talk. Darling, I really do insist you tell me when someone makes you upset.”

“I know, I know. Guess I should have braced for it more. I’m just not used to these kinds of things. When we’re alone it’s easy to just exist together. Just us.”

“I understand completely. However, I do enjoy that we finally got to leave the house. You look absolutely breathtaking tonight.”

You smiled at that, “Well, you do seem to have an eye for what suits me.”

“That, I do.”

Leaning your head on his shoulder, you breathed the comforting scent of his cologne, “I’m sorry I let them get to me when we're supposed to be enjoying our time together. It’s not fair to you.”

“They get annoying,” he gave your thigh a gentle squeeze, “Of course you’d take offense for us. There isn’t much we can do besides understand that we’re here for the right reasons. Though, it does get under my skin to see you affected so under my care.”

Soon the crowd made their way to the seats and the lights dimmed to near black. When the music started Hannibal whispered translations into your ear. You got caught up in the story between watching the characters go through their woes and Hannibal’s gentle voice guiding you through every detail. It was easy to see what Hannibal saw at these events. They really were thrilling to watch. Still it wasn’t so much the show, but getting to know another side of the man in question.

You looked at the man beside you, a happy smile plastered on your face. “Thank you for bringing me, Hannibal.”

“Anything for you, my love.”

“Your love?” You challenged teasingly.

A couple times he had thrown around the pet name. You didn’t take it for much. He was a sweet, old fashioned man, you had decided to believe. A sweet nothing that neither of you minded. Still you couldn’t deny the slight softness you felt from the moniker.

“You’ve promised yourself as all mine before,” he reminded you, “and I take no issue in claiming what’s mine.”

“That was said when I was drunk on you.”

“Deny all you’d like, sweet girl, you’re still mine.”

Hannibal tilted your head up slightly to kiss you. You couldn’t find it in yourself to care about why the music crescendoed in that moment. Not when he was kissing you with more passion than you had ever felt. He had a way of making it feel like you were the only beings in existence. Hannibal bit at your lip, asking for more, and you gave it to him without a thought. You’d do whatever he wanted at that moment. Still you couldn’t help grabbing his wrist when his hand found it’s way up your dress. He swallowed the helpless moan that slipped past your lips greedily.

You pulled away from him, your hips grinding onto his hand on their own accord. “Hannibal, I-“

He hushed you, “You’re missing a very important part of the show.” His hand didn’t let up from its ministrations as he continued to translate for you.

You went to cover your mouth with your hand, but Hannibal stopped you short, placing it back at your side. A quick mummer of be good was all he offered, not once stopping the pace he had set. You choked back the moan when he pressed against a spot that had been long neglected since the last time you paid him a visit. The music being so loud was your only safe haven, still, you pressed yourself further into Hannibal, hoping to hide yourself further from any wandering eyes that might look away from the show. Embarrassment and lust built with every thrust of Hannibal’s fingers. The former was getting increasingly easier to ignore as Hannibal pulled you closer and closer to your end. Pressing your face against his neck, you bit at the skin there in a cheap attempt at revenge for what he was putting you through.

Hannibal’s fingers stilled. A quiet chuckle met your ear when he heard your whimper of protest, stopping your hips as you attempted to help yourself. “Such an easy thing to toy with, you're nothing more than my own personal whore.” He didn’t miss the throb around his fingers at those words. “You’d let me use you however I’d like wouldn’t you?”

You gave a lazy nod as he brought his fingers up to your mouth. Eager to please him, hoping he’d let you finish, you opened your mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Behind your back, you felt him working himself out of his pants. Taking his hand away he adjusted your dress higher before pulling you on to his lap. With his other hand the head of his cock teased your clit, you forced yourself not to complain, knowing he’d go on longer if you did. When he finally pushed into you, you couldn’t fight off the moan of contentment as he filled you completely. Turning your head, you caught him in a languid kiss, caught up in only him despite the performance going on.

“Please?”

“What do you need?”

“You.” You shifted your hips slightly, “May I please move?”

“I’m sorry, little one,” you caught the slight upward twitch of his lip when you looked at him in disbelief, “I’d rather use you at my leisure.”

You whined in frustration, leaning against him knowing he’d play a cruel game. This time he offered no translations, keeping you entirely focused on the feeling of him buried deep inside of you doing nothing to help relieve your need for him. When you did manage to distract yourself, he circled your clit and gave a few sharp thrust, just enough to bring you back where he wanted you. His hand continued, changing the rhythm every so often so you’d stay aware of your position.

“I’ll be so good,” you begged helplessly.

“And yesterday you had been so against it despite having our privacy in the library,” he reminded you, pushing in and out of you in a too slow pace, but at least he was moving, “What was it that was missing, hm? The audience that could look up and see me using what’s mine?”

You didn’t know what had changed. Not truely. Maybe it was the couple of glasses of wine you had drunk throughout the day. Perhaps it was just finally getting what you had wanted for so long. Honestly, you couldn’t find yourself to be curious enough to find out.

“I wanna cum,” you told him, swallowing the embarrassment.

“I don’t know, darling, you’ve tried to find comfort with others. I really can’t say I approve of the notion. Suppose, I could just use you for your worth and leave you dry.” He groaned into your ear as you clenched around him, he sped up his thrust, “There’s my good girl, you like the sound of that?”

“Hannibal, please,” you whimpered, “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

“Beg for it.”

“I’ll never look for anyone else again. It was so stupid to think anyone else could make me feel as good as you.” Your breath hitched when he struck deeper, “I've been so desperate for you.”

“That’s all so very sweet, but that’s not exactly what I want to hear.”

You whined quietly as you tried to figure out the right combination of words to get you what you wanted. “I’m just yours… No one else’s… You’re the only one, I’m so sorry…”

“See? Was it so hard to apologize for your misconduct?”

You shook your head.

He pinched your thigh. “Words, darling.”

“No, daddy,” you moaned, as his hands guided your hips to move with him, “But I’ll be good for you now.”

“I still don’t think you deserve to cum, you pathetic thing.”

“You’ll let me?”

Hannibal’s hand grabbed your jaw roughly, making you look at him. “Next time I won’t be so generous. Understood?”

You swallowed down the slight twinge of fear that had worked its way into your system. “Yes, sir.”

He pushed your face away. “Work for it yourself.”

Tag list: @charc0al-grey @songofcosplay

#Hannibal #nbc hannibal #hannibal x reader #slasher x reader #hannibal lecter x reader #slasher imagines #smut

727 notes · View notes

doubleleoenergy · 3 years

Text

V. Off to the Races, Lolita Series

My old man is a tough man, but he got a soul as sweet as blood-red jam. And he shows me, he knows me. Every inch of my tar-black soul.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: bestfriendsdad!Andy Barber x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, mentions of alcohol, mentions of relationship violence, rape, and murder, pet names, passionate sex,

Words: 4025 (I am SO sorry for this)

Summary: Andy takes y/n on a weekend getaway while Jacob and his friends are out of town.

Two weeks had dragged on since Andy had gotten a taste of y/n’s sweet nectar, and since then nothing. It wasn’t like they really had the chance to be alone, Jacob and the other boys weren’t going out late at night or on the weekends as they usually did. Andy had to settle for his hand every night, reminiscing on their oral escapades.

It didn’t help that Andy had been swamped with cases, court appearances, and tons of paperwork. He had spent every night of those two weeks at the office until his eyes physically couldn’t stare at the cases in front of him anymore. Andy even showed up on the weekend to fit in a little extra work, hoping it would help take care of some of the load but to no avail. He was completely and thoroughly exhausted, and he could tell that y/n was as well.

She had worked directly with him on a few late-night cases, the rest of the time being spent shadowing Neal fucking Loguidice. It was great for her internship to do so, getting new perspectives of different attorneys in the office, but it was not as good for his jealousy.

By Thursday evening the heavy load of cases and paperwork had seemed to disappear, and Andy was grateful for being able to leave the office at a decent hour. With y/n in tow, he ducked into his Audi, waiting for y/n to get comfortable in the passenger seat before roaring the vehicle to life.

“Is it just me, or have these past two weeks been exhausting?” He asked, glancing out of the corner of his eyes at y/n as he drove. Andy knew her answer before she even opened her mouth, a loud groan leaving her lips as she rested her head back against the seat.

“You’re telling me, if I have to hear Neal mention one more time about his new kickboxing class, I’m going to gouge my eyes out. He really fucking sucks.” Her words elicit a chuckle from Andy’s lips, a smile of pride seeping onto his face. It was good to know she didn’t have any interest in Neal.

“We should do something fun this weekend, just the two of us. Maybe you’ll let me finally take you on a date” He suggested, lulling his car to a stop at the next red light. Y/N raised an eyebrow in his direction, cocking her head to the side. “Andy, I already told you, I don’t do relationships.”

Andy rolled his eyes, shifting in his seat to look at her. “Yeah, you said that, but I’m in it for the long game, y/n. You have to admit there’s something between us.”

“Andy…” She sighs, watching the sun setting out the passenger window. Sure, there was definitely something between him. Was he different from all the other guys before that she had hooked up with? Yes, of course. First off, she had never been with a man his age, someone with a career, a house, and a car of his own. He even had a pension and a life insurance policy; she hadn’t hooked up with any men who had those.

The car is silent as they pull into the garage, Andy immediately shutting off the car and sitting back in his seat. Y/N looked down at her lap awkwardly, reaching for the door but Andy stopped her with a tug to her wrist, getting her to look up at him.

“You want to be an attorney, right?” The question has her furrowing her brows, looking at him as if he had said ‘You know the sky is blue, right?’

“Of course, you know that, but what does that have to do with-” Andy cuts her off by holding up his index finger, loosening his grip on her wrist. “Attorneys defend their cases in court to a judge or jury, who then ultimately decide the fate of their clients. Their job is to convince someone that their claim is right.” Andy rests one hand on the steering wheel, a smug smirk crossing his lips.

“Saturday morning we’ll leave for a weekend getaway, planned by yours truly. This will all be part of my case as to why we should be together, no more games, officially together. You as the judge will examine the weekend's evidence and conclude on whether we should be together. If you decide after the weekend that you don’t think so, I’ll leave it alone and we won’t have to discuss it ever again. But I’m hoping for it to change your mind.” Before she can protest, Andy holds his hand up. “And I’ll even get us a room with two beds, no funny business, promise. So...will you hear my case out?”

Y/N had to admit, she had never been chased by a guy so ferociously, but what was the harm in seeing the evidence and getting a free weekend vacation out of it? She stuck her hand out for him to shake, a professional gesture for their arrangement. “Alright, I will gladly hear your case out.”

Andy had arranged it all down to the last detail, including lying to Jacob and the boys about an important conference for work that they both had to attend that weekend. Of course, he didn’t suspect a thing, he went out of town for conferences all the time, and thus his plan was set.

When Saturday morning finally arrived, Andy was feeling great. He had gone for an early morning jog, took a long shower, and even trimmed his hair and beard. Andy dressed in a plain white t-shirt and dark denim jeans, packing his bag with his essentials for the evening before walking out into the kitchen. As usual, the boys were all still asleep, hungover from their late-night game of shot roulette, which left the house extremely quiet.

Andy couldn’t help the smile creeping onto his face as he walked into the kitchen and saw y/n waiting at the counter, a familiar plate of breakfast and coffee next to her. “It’s a Saturday, you know that right? Thought breakfast was for workdays.” He stated, moving to sit at his usual spot beside her.

“Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” She responded, taking a swig from her coffee mug. Andy’s eyes wandered along her body; her outfit of the day effortlessly beautiful. She wore a tight white bodysuit tucked into a pair of figure-hugging mint shorts; a pair of matching wedges slipped onto her dainty feet to complete the look.

“You’re right, it is.” Andy’s silverware moved to cut into his meal, chewing thoughtfully as he thought about the day ahead. “You’d think that by making me breakfast you were trying to plead your own case.” He teased, engulfing another bite of his food.

Y/N rolled her eyes at him, moving to set her now empty coffee mug in the sink. “I’ve got nothing to plead, you on the other hand, do.” She waits with her back to the counter, playing on her phone until he finishes his meal, setting his plate in the sink behind her.

“Are you ready to go?” He questioned, grabbing his duffel bag off the floor. Y/N followed suit, grabbing her tiny black suitcase and following him out into the garage. Andy grabbed the suitcase from her, setting it with his own bag in the trunk before they both got into the car, backing slowly out of the driveway.

It was a beautiful day out, the sun was shining, and there wasn’t a cloud in sight. “Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Y/N asks, crossing her legs.

“Would it matter? You’re not familiar with the state anyhow.” He retorted, pulling up the address on his GPS as they started on their journey.

“True, I just want to know what I’m getting into.” Her eyes locked on the GPS, noticing the destination was an hour away. “Rockport? What’s in Rockport?” She asked, raising a shapely brow in Andy’s direction.

“Well for starters, it’s along the ocean, which guarantees a good view. It also has great shopping, beaches, and restaurants. It’s a nice little getaway.” Andy turns on the radio as the car goes silent, y/n admiring the view as they drive.

The silence in the car was comfortable, both of them enjoying each other’s company, and before they knew it, they had arrived at their home for the weekend. They were staying at the Cove at Rockport, a beautiful inn right along the ocean. It was even more classy than the photos online, and Andy made quick working of getting them checked into their room.

Andy and y/n walked together down the long hallway to their room, room one on the first floor. Unlocking the door with the key provided, Andy pushed it open, allowing y/n to step in and take in their living arrangements.

The main room was huge, donning a cute little breakfast nook adjacent to the kitchen, a living room, two separate bedrooms, and a bathroom. The decor was all beach themed, of course, shades of blues and beiges filling their sights.

“This definitely deserves a point towards your case.” Y/N admitted, chewing on her bottom lip. It was honestly the nicest place she’d ever stayed at, more luxurious than what she had expected. Walking further into the space, y/n pushed open the sliding door, the sound of waves hitting the shore bursting through her ears as she took in the view. It truly was gorgeous, much different from shitty life in Ohio.

“So, I did alright with my first piece of evidence?” He chortled, leaning back against the cool wall. Y/N continues to take in the view outside, a light breeze picking up and blowing her hair off her shoulders.

“I’d say so.” She shuts the sliding doors and walks back to investigate the sleeping spaces, setting her bags in the room with a large picture of a beach umbrella over the bed, the smaller of the two. “Well, what else do you have planned for your case? Because if this is it, I can come to a decision right away.”

Andy moved his own bag into the opposite room before walking into y/n’s and sitting down on the plush comforter. “I wanted to start the trip with a walk downtown, explore some of the shops before we get ready for our dinner reservations at six.”

Ah, he even sprung for reservations, what a smart man. “Sounds good, let’s explore.” Y/N got up from the bed, grabbing her purse before Andy followed her out, walking out of their room towards the lobby.

Downtown was only about a five-minute walk from the inn, an enjoyable stroll filled with laughter from a group of teens on the sidewalk, birds chirping in the trees, and the smell of fresh muffins wafting from the window of a bakery on the street. “Well, where should we look first?” He asked, turning to look at y/n for guidance on where she’d like to go.

They had spent about two full hours downtown, walking in and out of all the little shops, picking up a blueberry donut to share from one of the bakeries, and taking photos of each other along the Rockport streets. Most of the photos Andy took of y/n were very Instagram appropriate photos, staring down the camera and moving from angle to angle. On a few photos though, Andy would say something to make her laugh, snapping away at her genuine reaction.

Before long they were walking back into the room to get ready for their dinner reservations. Andy was pulling out all the stops, dressing up in one of his nicest black suits, a matching black tie situated atop a crisp white button down. He spritzed on some of his favorite Versace Eros cologne, adjusting the laces of his dress shoes before walking out into the living room. Andy had ordered a dozen red roses to be delivered to the suite, arriving shortly after he had finished getting ready, sitting on the couch with the flowers and waiting for y/n to walk out. God, he hoped this wasn’t too cheesy.

After about five minutes of waiting anxiously, the door to y/n’s room opened, noticing her delicate silver peep toe heels first. His eyes roamed up her toned and tanned legs, settling on her baby blue dress, off the shoulder with slightly puffy sleeves, a tie in the front revealing just a bit of cleavage. The ruffles on the hem swayed as she moved, her eyes taking in the sight of him as well with the flowers.

Suddenly Andy stood up, holding out the flowers to her. “You look incredible, Lolita.” There went the pet name again, though it was always so fitting for her. “Shall we go?” Y/N silently thanked him for the flowers, taking a whiff of their sweet aroma before setting them down on the counter near the door. She followed Andy to his car, waving him off when he tried to open her door for her. Her expression stayed on Andy the entire drive, inhaling his intoxicating cologne, licking her lips. Y/N had to admit, he always looked great in a suit.

The restaurant was only a ten-minute drive from the inn, a little classy seafood restaurant along the ocean coast. It was packed with people, a quartet playing Sinatra’s finest hits off in the far-right corner of the room. Some people were dancing, some were sitting along the bar against the left wall, while most were diners enjoying their meals at their table.

Y/N and Andy were led to a table near the back wall facing the ocean view. Andy started off by ordering a bottle of chardonnay for the table, taking in the sight of y/n lit up by the candlelight provided.

“This is beautiful, Andy.” She exclaimed, her eyes scanning the room and all the happy couples around them. Andy smiled before opening his menu, mulling over what to order. “I told you, I’m great at pleading my case. And as you know, I almost always win.” Y/N rolled her eyes, opening her own menu. “Key word, almost.”

After deciding on what to eat, Andy getting the seafood gnocchi and y/n ordering the lobster bisque, Andy poured them each a glass of wine, holding his up towards hers. “Cheers to an unforgettable night.” He exclaimed, clinking their glasses together before they each took a sip of their respective glasses.

As they wait for their food, Andy and y/n sit and talk more about their likes and dislikes, what they want in the future, and the day they had downtown. Their food arrives during the conversation and they continue to talk while they indulge in their meals, all the food just as incredible as the atmosphere.

About thirty minutes later Andy and y/n take in their last bites of food, sitting back and enjoying the liveliness around them. As they waited for their check to arrive, the sound of Sinatra’s hit ‘It Had to Be You’ started drifting from the quartet. Andy smiles, holding out his hand towards y/n as he stares down at her. “Dance with me?” He asks, taking in her surprised expression before she scoots herself out of her seat, grabbing his hand as he led her over to where the other couples were dancing. Andy places his hands on the small of her back, y/n wrapping her own around his neck as they sway to the tune.

“This is definitely not as good as dancing together at the club.” She joked, making Andy laugh. “Well, technically I wouldn’t call that dancing. More like...gyrating, or maybe dry humping? Definitely not the same.” Her smile brightened; his eyes locked on her as they moved. It was as if they were the only people there, like the whole world stopped to see them dance.

“For nobody else gave me a thrill. With all your faults, I love you still. It had to be you...Wonderful you...It had to be you…” The quartet crooned, the song ending and a few of the couples clapping in response. Andy’s eyes bore into y/n’s, licking his lips before leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to her lips, holding it for a moment before y/n pulled away, clearing her throat and letting go of his neck.

“M’sure the bill is on the table.” She stated, walking back towards their chairs. Andy let out a huff of disappointment, following her over to the table and paying for their meal before they walked in silence back to their car.

The car ride felt riddled with tension, the tension continuing to build as they got back to the room. “We need to talk, y/n.” He admitted as the door of their suite shut behind them, crossing his arms against his broad chest. Y/N leaned her weight against the wall between their bedrooms, tilting her head up to look at him.

“Andy…” She started, becoming silent again and chewing on her bottom lip. Andy’s stance becomes more tense, taking a step closer to her. “I want you, y/n. And not because of how mind-blowingly attractive you are. You are intelligent, thoughtful, and selfless. You’re not stuck up or fussy about material items. You make me feel like I’m in my twenties again, you make me feel like I’ve never felt with another woman.”

He takes another step closer to her, hovering above her due to his height. She puts her hands on his chest to stop him from moving, swallowing the lump in her throat.

“I’m terrified of this, Andy. How do I know you won’t turn out just like my piece of shit father, huh?” She leans her body weight against the wall, peering up at him.

“Look, I know how you feel, alright?” He moves away from her again, his back turned towards her as his hand ruffles through his hair. “I know firsthand, my father...he’s also in prison. He went to prison when I was young for raping and murdering a 19-year old woman. I vowed to myself to never ever treat a woman without kindness and respect. Though my marriage with Laurie wasn’t perfect, I’m sure she’d say that I was nothing like my father, and nothing like yours for that matter.”

He turns back to look at her, arms outstretched. “I promise I will never hurt you; you can trust me. I’m all in, y/n. And I meant everything I said.”

She processes his story of his father, realizing they had a lot more in common than she once thought. Her heart is beating so fast she thought it might splatter in her chest, closing the distance between the two quickly. Her hand came up to grip his jaw, leaning up and kissing him lovingly. They continue to kiss, y/n parting her lips to allow Andy’s tongue to slip inside, exploring her mouth and causing her to moan. After a moment they both pull away breathless, her hands playing with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Okay...I’m all in too, with you.” Her words are all Andy had been wanting to hear, gripping her waist and kissing her lustfully this time, pushing them backwards until they both hit the wall again with a groan. His lips trailed a line of kisses down her neck and along her collarbone, shrugging off his suit jacket and making quick work at the buttons on his shirt, practically ripping the buttons off completely.

Y/N is tilting her head back against the wall, helping to push off his now open shirt to expose his God-like torso. This was her first time seeing his chest, running her cool fingers against his abs as he kissed back up her neck and into her mouth.

He plays with the fabric on sleeves of her dress, pushing them down so that she can fully shimmy out of the pale blue fabric. Her breasts are on full display, no bra to pull down, and Andy growled at the sight of them. They were just as perky as they had been while peeking through her outfits.

He nudged her body in the direction of his bed, hands making quick work of his belt and pulling down his trousers, kicking them into a pile as he walked into the bedroom after her in only his Calvin Klein briefs. Andy moved forward to kiss her again, knocking them both over onto the bed, a breathy laugh escaping her throat.

“God, you’re so fucking beautiful, my little Lolia.” He purred, his hands coming up between them to knead over her delectable breasts. Y/N cried out from the touch, grinding her hips up into Andy’s to evoke a similar noise from him. “Andy, need you…” She whined, her back arching off the bed, her panties rolling against his clearly clothed hard cock.

He slipped his hands lower, teasing his fingertips along her folds, already slick with her desire. “Need what, Lolita? Need you to tell me exactly what you want.” Her hands rub his cock through the thin fabric, a whine of impatience leaving her lips.

“Need you inside me, Andy. Please, fuck my pussy.” Her words ignite an animalistic groan from his lips, pulling off her and scooting her up further onto the bed until her head touched the pillows. He quickly tugged off his boxers, stepping out of them before shimmying her out of her panties, tossing them aside.

His eyes grew dark as he took in her naked form in front of him, stroking his cock. She really was the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid eyes on, and she was all his. Andy moved onto the bed, hovering over y/n with his cock dragging against her glistening folds. He was bigger than the guys she’d been with before, and the thought alone excited and terrified her. Her fingers land on the skin of his shoulder blades, pressing in lightly as she locks eyes with him.

“Andy, please.” She begs again. Andy keeps his eyes on hers as he pushes in slowly, giving her time to adjust as he moves inch by inch into her cunt. Her nails dig a bit deeper into his skin, mewling as he continues to press into her until he finally bottoms out, holding himself in place.

“God, my little Lolita, you’re so fucking tight...you’re milking my cock and I haven’t even moved yet. Do you want me to move?” He leant down and pressed a passionate kiss to her lips, waiting for her mumbled ‘mhm’ against him before he rolled his hips into hers.

The pace started slowly, building up speed with every little noise y/n’s mouth made, coming undone underneath him with each thrust. They continued to share soft kisses, moaning into each other’s mouths, y/n’s hands locking around his neck.

“Andy.” She breathed, her walls tightening and releasing around him. “Wanna cum for you.”

Andy quickened his pace, kissing along her pulse point on her neck. “Cum for me, Lolita. Want to feel you cum on my cock.” It doesn’t take her long after his sentence before she’s tightening her walls again, crying out as her orgasm rips through her. Her eyesight is full of stars, and it takes a second for her to regain her vision, focusing on Andy’s face once she does.

“M’gonna cum in this pretty cunt, fill you up to the brim.” He states, thrusting a few more times before coating her walls with his release. He stills inside of her for a moment before pulling out slowly and plopping down with his back on the bed next to her.

They both lie in silence, staring up at the ceiling, panting. The sex was incredible, better than they both could’ve imagined. Andy’s arm wraps loosely around y/n’s shoulder, tugging her into his chest and pressing a loving kiss to her forehead.

“You’re mine now, it’s official.” He looked down at her with a lazy smile, watching as her fingers began to trail up and down his chest. “Guess you could say I won yet another case.”

“Shut up, Andy.”

Tagging those who may be interested. Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list: @my-divine-death @blackwiddows @sokovianheadtilt @fuckandfluff @rattlemyb0nes @rootcrop @turtoix @sylvielaufeydottirr @jeremyrennermakesmesmile @ccmarvelxx @rebelemilu @tenaciousperfectionunknown @agentofbarnes @serendipityrogers

#doubleleoenergyseries: lolita #DLE Series: Lolita #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x female reader #andy barber smut #andy barber x reader smut

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courageous-she · 3 years

Text

Extracurricular- Charlie Gillespie

Teacher!Reader x MusicTeacher!Charlie

Word Count: 2707

Author’s Note: Hi everyone! Just wanted to say thank you for all the love on “Needing You”! I wrote this up, a little self-indulgently, but hope that some of you will find some enjoyment from it!

It had always been your dream to be an elementary school teacher. For as long as you could remember, you would play school with your American Girl Dolls or stuffed animals as your students. When the time came for college, you’d picked a program that would allow you to get your Master’s quickly. After student teaching and some substituting, you finally had your own fourth grade classroom.

You hadn’t been at your school long, seeing as it was only October, but you’d been there long enough to meet some of the other teachers. You got along well with your team teachers, and even made a few teacher friends you could hang out outside of school with.

It was a Wednesday and for some reason your students had more energy than normal, and it was taking a toll on you. Luckily, they had Music in a few minutes, so you decided to end the lesson early and have them start getting ready for the special. They were quiet in the hallway, giving you a quick break before dropping them off at the music room.

“Hey, fourth grade!” the music teacher, Mr. G said with enthusiasm as your class approached. You students began to file into the classroom, high-fiving or fist bumping Mr. G as they passed. “Hey Ms. Y/L/N.” Mr. G said more softly to you.

“Hi Mr. G. They’re a little more energetic than normal today.” You said, providing a well needed update on the class. Mr. G smiled, chuckling lightly at the statement.

“Nothing I can’t handle I’m sure.” There was a short pause before he continued, “Got any plans this weekend?” he asked you. This weekend was Halloween and you wanted nothing more than to spend it on your couch with a bottle of wine.

“I was just going to drink some wine and watch a movie.” You replied honestly, “Why? Have something in mind?” It wasn’t unusual for Mr. G, or you could probably call him Charlie, to ask you about your plans. A little harmless flirting was normal between the two of you seeing as you were the only two 20 something teachers in the school.

“I had about the same idea in mind. Would you maybe want to drink wine and watch a movie together?” He asked, a smirk playing on his face. As you were about to respond, one of your students came over and grabbed Charlie by the hand, tugging him into the classroom. You smiled and let him know that you would text him before letting him go to teach the class.

You: 7:00 my place?

You sent the text to Charlie, having had his number from staff meetings. The two of you liked to text during the meetings instead of actually paying attention. You didn’t expect a response right away anyway considering he was teaching your students. You took the 40 minutes your kids were at music to sit in the quiet and grade some classwork.

When you went to pick your class up, Charlie was waiting by the door, your class lined up behind him.

“7:00 sounds perfect. I’ll bring the refreshments” he said quiet enough so the class didn’t hear.

“I’ll text you my address” you said, smiling, “Alright friends, what do you say to Mr. G?” you asked, addressing your class.

“Thank you, Mr. G!” rang out in unison by your students.

“Bye guys! See you later!” Charlie waved, again high-fiving some kids on their way out. You turned around as your class walked to the end of the hall and Charlie shot you a quick wink before heading back into his classroom. Friday night couldn’t come soon enough.

*****

When Friday night finally did come, Charlie texted you around dismissal to make sure your plans were still on.

You: Definitely! But I hope you know I will be in my baggiest of sweatpants

Charlie: Glad we’re on the same page, I don’t wear real clothes outside of school, its sacrilegious

You chuckled at the text, making sure to send Charlie your address and apartment number. Your students filed out one-by-one until it was only you left in the classroom. You made sure to shut down everything and turn off the lights before making the quick trip to your car.

Once home, you threw your work clothes into your hamper and got into your designated sweatpants. Knowing that you were having company later encouraged you to give your apartment a good clean, something you hadn’t been motivated to do recently. You lived alone, but you preferred it that way. Sometimes after a long day of school it was just easier to come home and not have to talk to anyone about your day.

Soon enough, the buzzer in your apartment was ringing signaling that Charlie was downstairs waiting to be let up. You pressed the button to unlock the main door and waited by your front door for his knock. When it came, you opened the door to see Charlie carrying a large pizza, a bottle of wine, and bag of Halloween candy.

“You came prepared Gillespie” you said, taking some of the items from his hands. He kicked his shoes off by the door before following you into the small living room. You set the items down on the coffee table before getting comfortable on the couch, Charlie following suit next to you.

“I told you I’d bring the refreshments, didn’t I?” He asked, pulling a corner of your blanket over his legs. You laughed, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Once the Netflix screen showed, you passed the remote to Charlie who gave you a confused look.

“I can’t decide on movies for the life of me, so this one’s on you” you said, opening the pizza box and grabbing a slice. You ate and watched as Charlie flipped through the movies, settling on a horror film. “Should have guessed you’d try to kill me tonight” you laughed.

“Hey, when you put me in charge of the movie, you can’t complain about what I pick” Charlie laughed, opening the bottle of wine.

“Oh! Let me get us some glasses,” you said, starting to remove the blanket from your lap. Charlie’s hand stopped you from getting any further.

“I’m fine with drinking out of the bottle if you are…” he suggested. You shrugged, not really caring about sharing the bottle with him. The two of you settled into the couch, eating pizza and sharing the bottle of wine. You definitely jumped at some parts in the movie and Charlie laughed at you each time.

About halfway through the movie, the both of you had finished eating and were now resting comfortably on the couch. However, the movie only began to get scarier as a really gory part showed on the screen. You jolted with surprise and shoved your face into Charlie’s neck, hand gripping the shirt material on his chest.

“You can’t really be scared of this!” Charlie laughed.

“Of course, I’m scared!” you replied, voice muffled by his skin. Charlie only chuckled and wrapped his arms around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

“Don’t go in there!” you shouted a few moments later to the girl in the movie.

“Of course, she’s going to go in there!” Charlie retorted, “it’d be no fun if she didn’t”

“Who said any of this was fun” you replied, getting ready to hide your face against Charlie again, “I can’t watch.” Again, Charlie pulled you closer, protecting you from the demons on the screen.

As the movie ended, you let out a sigh of relief. You quickly stood and made your way over to your fridge, pulling out another bottle of wine.

“After that movie, I need more of this, and a new movie to forget that one”

“I’m down for another movie. But you’re choosing it this time” Charlie said, grabbing the bottle from you and taking a sip. As you scrolled through the choices, you landed on one that had made you cry the first time you watched it.

“Okay, Gillespie.” You said, selecting the movie and hitting play, “Time to see you cry”

“Oh, I don’t cry” Charlie said, a smirk on his face. You made a “let’s see about that” face and the two of you settled in to watch the movie.

As the sad part began to get more intense, you stole a glance over at Charlie. You could see tears slowly cascading down his cheeks.

“I thought you said you didn’t cry” you joked, pushing on his shoulder with your own. Taken aback by the fact that you’d noticed him, Charlie quickly began to wipe the tears from his face.

“I’m not crying, my eyes are sweating.” He replied.

“Sure, tough guy. Don’t worry about it, crying is manly” you said, leaning into his side. He chuckled at you before pulling you closer to finish the movie.

*****

Two movies and two bottles of wine later, you stood to throw out the empty pizza box and candy wrappers.

“Shit, I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going” Charlie said, looking at the time on his phone.

“You’ve been drinking, Charlie, probably not the best idea to drive right now” you said, holding up the two empty wine bottles. Charlie gave you a knowing look.

“Let me see if my roommate is still awake, maybe he can come grab me” But before you could even let Charlie unlock his phone to text his roommate, you blurted out a proposition.

“Or you could just spend the night here” You stared at Charlie, shocked the sentence even left your mouth. It was probably the alcohol that helped. Charlie looked at you, making sure he heard correctly.

“I mean, if you’re cool with me crashing on your couch…” he spoke slowly.

“Oh no, you can’t sleep on that. It may be good for sitting but if you sleep on it, you’ll wake up with a broken back. My bed is big enough, we can share…. If you’re okay with that” you quickly added. Charlie mumbled a quiet ‘yeah’ before helping you clean up the rest of the mess. As you made your way into your room, you turned on your bathroom light. “I have an extra toothbrush you can use,” you said, handing Charlie the blue toothbrush.

The two of you stood side by side in the bathroom, looking at each other in the mirror while brushing your teeth. As Charlie finished, he made his way back into your room while you took a moment to wash your face. When you walked back into your room, Charlie was sitting on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“You didn’t have to wait for me to get in bed” you laughed. Charlie sheepishly looked up at you, locking his phone and putting in on the end table.

“Wasn’t sure what side of the bed you normally slept on” he replied. You went over to your side of the bed and got under the covers. Charlie followed suit on the opposite side of the bed. You clicked off your side lamp and turned to face Charlie.

“Sorry in advance if I kick you in my sleep” you said.

“If you kick me, we’re going to have a problem” Charlie laughed. It wasn’t long before the two of you dozed off comfortably facing each other.

*****

You woke up the next morning to your head resting on Charlie’s chest and his arms wrapped tightly around you. You laughed at the sleeping boy, noticing that he was no longer wearing a shirt. You tried to get out of bed without waking him, failing as his arm only wrapped tighter around you and a low groan came from the boy.

“Where’re you going?” he asked, voice low and eyes still closed.

“I was going to go make us some breakfast” you said. Charlie turned so his body was now facing yours, eyes still closed, and arms remaining around you.

“Five more minutes” he grumbled. “If you leave, I’ll be cold” he whined. You could only laugh.

“If I don’t get up, then you won’t have anything to eat in five minutes”

“I’ll buy us breakfast if you promise not to move” he said, voice low and soft. You replied with a quiet ‘okay’ and began to get comfortable.

“One thing though” you said, Charlie hummed in response, “When did you take your shirt off?”

“’mm like 2? Not sure, does it matter?” he asked. You mumbled a small ‘no’ not wanting to admit that you liked the feel of his warm skin against yours. You snuggled into him, hands reaching around and lightly dragging up and down his back. When you thought he’d fallen asleep, you let your hands stop, but when Charlie’s hand reached around to grab yours, mimicking your earlier motion, you continued.

You hadn’t realized that you’d fallen asleep, but you woke up in the same position, only this time Charlie’s fingers were lightly grazing up and down your back.

“Mornin’” he hummed, “Didn’t think you’d fall back asleep, did ya?” he teased. You lifted your eyes to meet his, taking in his bed head as well.

“Well, if you’d have let me get up the first time, I could have had breakfast ready for you” you mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“Breakfast is ten minutes away” Charlie said, brushing your hair away from your face. You looked up at him, a little shocked he’d woken up and ordered breakfast. Your eyes met his and you watched as his fell to your lips. Your breath hitched and before you knew it, Charlie’s soft lips were on yours.

It was gentle and quick, too quick if you were honest. But having kissed him once already now, you worked up the courage to kiss him again, this time taking the lead. You moved so that you were straddling him, his hands quickly finding a home on your hips, rubbing small circles on the skin under your shirt.

A moment later, you found yourself lying on your back, Charlie hovering over you. He only pulled away when his phone buzzed from next to you. He quickly checked his phone, looked at you, and placed a quick kiss on your cheek before getting up and pulling his sweatshirt on. Just as quickly as Charlie had gotten on top of you, he was off and out the door.

Sliding out of bed, you threw on your sweatshirt and padded out to the kitchen. The front door opened and Charlie came in carrying two bags of food.

“What the hell did you order, Char?” you asked, grabbing a bag and beginning to open it. All kinds of breakfast foods laid out in front of you. Two arms landed their way on either side of you, locking you between him and the counter.

“Char?” he asked, voice low in your ear. Your face was warm as you turned around in the small space you had, noticing the smirk on the boy’s face. You weren’t sure how to respond, the nickname just kind of slipped out. But before you could respond, Charlie’s hand gently held your chin and his lips met yours once again. “Don’t worry” he said against your lips, “I like it”

He quickly lifted you onto the counter, slipping in between your legs and placing another kiss against your lips. The two of you stayed like that for a bit, tasting each of the foods that Charlie had ordered.

*****

As the two of you cleaned up the kitchen a little while later you asked, “So, am I going to have to compete for your attention at school?” Charlie gave you a confused look, not sure what you meant by that statement. “Considering how all the fourth and fifth grade girls have the biggest crushes on you?” you asked, a smile playing at your lips.

Charlie chuckled, coming over to rest his hands on your hips, forehead resting against your own. “You’re the only one who gets this kind of attention” he quietly said before placing a kiss on your lips. You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in for more.

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crazy4dragons · 3 years

Text

Family Vacation

HTTYD Creative Week 2021

Day 5: AU

Hiccup brings Astrid on a Haddock family vacation. Like Heaven AU. Rating: G.

“You know, Hiccup, if I never went to your house, and never came on this trip, I wouldn’t have guessed that your family was loaded.” Astrid gazed around the hotel suite room. “You don’t act like a rich kid at all.” She peeked into the bathroom. “But my Thor, this place is nice.”

It was the summer before freshman year of high school, and Stoick and Valka had allowed Hiccup to invite Astrid on a family vacation to Switzerland. He was getting older, and since he didn’t have any siblings, they thought it would be nice for him to have someone his age to hang out with.

Laughing, Hiccup opened his luggage and began unpacking. “I’m glad you don’t think I act like a rich kid. And yeah, it is nice.”

“I’ve never been on a vacation where I get my own bedroom and bathroom. Well, obviously we’re sharing, but you get what I mean.”

“I’m glad you’re here. My parents always get a two-bedroom suite when we go away, but if I’m being honest, I don’t like always sleeping in a room by myself. It gets lonely.”

“Well, now I’ll be around to keep you company.” Astrid unzipped her travel bag and started sorting her things. “Damn,” she groaned as she rummaged through her clothes. “I didn’t bring pajamas.”

“I have extra t-shirts and sweats if you want to borrow some,” offered Hiccup.

“I have some t-shirts, too.” Astrid said. “I’m just missing pants.”

“Wear your t-shirts, borrow my sweats. It’s an easy fix.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.” He tossed her a pair of sweats.

“Thanks.” She piled the pants on top of her denim shorts. After organizing the rest of her clothes, she placed them in the dresser stationed against the wall. “Hiccup, do you know what time your parents were planning to get dinner? I’m starving.”

“Well, it’s already late, so we’ll probably just order room service. I can go ask Mom and Dad to call now if you want.”

“I don’t want to hurry them if they’re not ready. I’m your guest, remember? I shouldn’t be making unnecessary work for your family.”

“You’re not. My parents love having you around. I’m sure they’d be happy to order dinner.” After putting his toothbrush away, Hiccup stepped into the living room and made his way to Stoick and Valka’s bedroom. “Mom, Dad?” he said, pushing the cracked door open the rest of the way. “Can we get something to eat?”

“Of course, son,” Stoick replied. “What are you and the lass hungry for?”

“Astrid!” Hiccup shouted. “What do you want to eat?”

“Coming!” In a moment, Astrid was seated on the living room couch between Hiccup and Stoick while Valka continued to unpack. After looking at the room service menu and making a selection, Stoick placed the order.

“See? I told you that you wouldn’t be making unnecessary work,” said Hiccup as he and Astrid finished sorting their belongings.

“Sorry for trying to be a polite guest,” Astrid retorted playfully.

By the time they were finished putting everything away, the food had arrived. After joining Stoick and Valka for the meal, the two friends headed back to their bedroom, ready for a good night’s sleep.

“Do you want to take the first shower?” asked Hiccup.

“Sure,” Astrid shrugged. She trudged into the bathroom, emerging in a towel twenty minutes later. “I’ll get dressed in here while you have your turn,” she said with a yawn.

“That works for me.” Hiccup took his shower quickly, struggling to keep his eyes open long enough to dry off, get into pajamas, and brush his teeth. When he finally finished, he crawled into bed, where Astrid was already lying, and curled up beside her.

“You know, hotel beds always feel weird,” Astrid remarked.

“Weird? How?” Hiccup asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “They just are. And the covers are never thick and cozy like regular duvet sets usually are.”

“If you’re cold, you can turn up the heat,” mumbled Hiccup, reaching to turn off his bedside lamp.

“I’m fine,” Astrid replied with a sleepy sigh. Rolling over, she snuggled against her friend’s back. “I’ll just cuddle with you. If it’s okay.”

“Do I really have a choice?” Hiccup playfully squeezed Astrid’s hand as she draped an arm over him.

“You could’ve told your dad you wanted him to ask for two small beds instead of this big one, but you said you were fine sharing.”

“I like sharing with you.” Hiccup closed his eyes. “At least, I like sharing with you when you’re not talking my ears off while I’m exhausted.”

“Shut up.” She gently punched his bicep.

“I could say the same to you,” teased Hiccup.

“Gods, I hate you so much,” Astrid mumbled, tightening her arms around Hiccup’s middle and burying her nose in his shoulder.

“Mmm-hmm, that’s why you’re all over me right now.”

“Hey, I don’t have any other cuddle buddies, okay?”

A rap at the door interrupted their banter.

“Come in,” called Hiccup.

“I thought I heard you two still up,” Valka said as she entered the room. “I just wanted to say goodnight.” She shuffled over to the bed and kissed both Hiccup and Astrid on the forehead. “Sleep well, loves. And remember, your door needs to stay open. Just because we’re not at home doesn’t mean we don’t still have rules.”

“Got it,” yawned Hiccup.

“Good. Now, I’ll let you two get some rest.”

“Goodnight, Mom,” Hiccup said. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, dear. Dad and I will be right next door if either of you need anything.”

“Mmm-kay.” After Valka left, Hiccup turned his head to look at Astrid. “You alright?”

She nodded against his shoulder.

“Do you miss Berk?”

She nodded again.

“Me, too,” Hiccup yawned. “But we’ll have a good time here, even though you don’t like this hotel bed.” He said the last part teasingly.

“Are you making fun of your only friend?”

“Are you making fun of me for only having one friend?”

“I’m just kidding,” Astrid assured. “But you should join a club or something, get to know more people.”

Yawning again, Hiccup closed his eyes. “Yeah, right. I can join the nerdy book club that everyone laughs at,” he mumbled.

“Wait until high school this fall. New clubs, new people, new school. It’ll be a fresh start. For both of us.”

“Maybe,” Hiccup shrugged. “But Astrid?”

“Yeah?”

“Promise me we won’t stop being friends.”

The blonde wrapped her arms around him in a hug. “I promise.”

#fanfic #my writing #httyd #modern au #like heaven universe #hiccstrid #teenage hiccstrid #httydcweek2021 #dayfiveau

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everlarkficexchange · 3 years

Text

The Barrier

Author: @hutchhitched

Prompt 77: Married Everlark are coworkers and their marriage is on the rocks. They’ve been sleeping in separate rooms. Divorce looks inevitable. On a business trip, there is *dramatic pause* only one bed. Does the forced closeness lead them to really talk for the first time in months or does it drive them further apart? Smut not required. [submitted by @katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Ratings/Warnings: M; allusions to infertility, divorce, self-loathing

“What do you mean there’s only one bed?” Katniss hissed at her husband. “We were supposed to have our own rooms, and now you’re telling me we have to share a bed? Did you do this on purpose?”

Peeta glared at her, fury flaring in his blue eyes. If she weren’t so furious herself, she’d push a little harder, but the flint-like nature of his glower convinced her that she needed to steer clear, if only by shutting her mouth once she’d voiced her opinions.

“What kind of idiot do you think I am?” he practically spat at her. “It’s not like I want to spend time with you. I get enough of that at home.”

“A big one.”

“A big one, what?”

“You asked what kind of idiot I think you are. I think you’re a big idiot.”

“Enjoy sleeping on the street,” he said with unnatural calm and turned sharply on his heel. He’d only taken three steps before she crumbled. She had no interest in sharing a bed or a room with the man she’d married a decade ago, but she definitely didn’t have any desire to sleep in the hotel lobby, or worse.

“Oh, come on!” She called after him and hurried to catch up before he made it to the elevator. “You’re not going to leave me hanging. We’re here for work, and neither of us can afford a bad performance review this year.”

“It’d be worth it,” he groused.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Peeta stood to the side so those inside the elevator could clear out and then stepped into the box with his suitcase. He punched the button for their floor and leaned against the wall without bothering to glance her way as she struggled to get inside with her bag.

“Can we not?” he asked tiredly. “You can yell at me all you want in the hotel room, but it’s unseemly in public.”

“Unseemly?” She almost said more, but bit the inside of her cheek instead. She could wait until they reached their room to see how bad the situation was going to be before she said anything else. This whole thing probably wasn’t fair in any way, but she couldn’t help but feel like this was somehow all his fault.

The elevator ride concluded in silence, as did the walk from the elevator to their room. Peeta fiddled with the lock for a full minute and cursed as the red light flashed several times before finally figuring out how it worked and popping the door open to allow them to enter. He flipped on the lights as he entered, and she almost smiled at the familiarity of him scanning the corners for someone hiding in the shadows. He’d started that habit on their honeymoon when they’d not bothered to look before going at it against the door as soon as they closed it behind them. An errant cleaning lady who’d only been dropping off extra towels and pillows had gotten quite a show, very likely one she’d had absolutely no interest in viewing.

The honeymoon was a long, long time ago. So long, in fact, that Katniss wasn’t even sure if she even liked her husband anymore, let alone loved him. They hadn’t been intimate in forever, it seemed, and she hadn’t missed it at all. Well, that wasn’t true. She did miss it. She just wasn’t interested in doing anything with him. All the sexual tension, passion, and lust that had existed between them had simply dried up as real life got in the way. They’d taken out their frustrations and irritations on each other instead of looking for comfort in the other’s arms.

“Do you want to use the bathroom first?” Peeta asked as he set his bag on the edge of the bed and unzipped it.

“First, yes. If it’s okay with you.”

“I don’t care. Knock yourself out.”

He turned his back on her and stripped off his tie before unbuttoning his shirt. He got it over his shoulders and was working on his belt before she shook herself out of her daze and closed the door to the bathroom behind her. Taking her time, she showered and re-braided her hair before brushing her teeth and applying moisturizer. She was just about to pluck her eyebrows when a pounding sounded on the door.

“Can you hurry it up? I’d like to go to sleep sometime tonight.”

Irritated, she jammed her beauty products back in her toiletry bag and ripped open the door. Haughtily, she glared at him and swept by to head to the bed. When she saw what he’d done, she froze.

“What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“Why are all these pillows in the middle of the bed?”

“They’re making a barrier.”

“Yes, I can see that, jackass. Why is there a barrier of pillows in the middle of the bed?”

“To separate us.”

“But you’re sleeping on the floor.”

“Why the hell would I sleep on the floor?”

“Because we’re not sharing a bed right now. We don’t even sleep in the same room at home anymore. Why would you think we’d do that here?”

Peeta gaped at her, completely dumbstruck. It took a while for him to put words together, but when he did, she wanted to smack him.

“Katniss, I don’t know how to tell you this, but you’re crazy if you think I’m going to sleep on the floor of a hotel just because you decided you don’t want to be married to me anymore. I’ve tried to be understanding, but this is bullshit. I’m not a puppy you can kick.” Peeta shook his head and squeezed his eyes closed and his lips together. She knew that expression because it was one he’d shown much too often in the past several months. That was the look he made when he was about to lose his temper. “Now, I’m going to shower. If you have shit to do, I’d suggest taking care of it while I’m in there because I’m tired, and I’m going to sleep once I’m done.”

She waited until he’d closed the door to the bathroom before ripping the pillows off the middle of the bed. Hell if she was going to sleep in the same bed with him. He’d made a mistake to leave her alone if he thought that was going to happen. She piled the pillows back up against the headboard and then climbed into bed. Once she was directly in the middle, she pulled the covers over herself, set an alarm, and turned off the lights. If she tried, she might actually be asleep before he came back out, and then he’d have to take the floor. They’d barely seen each other in the past few weeks, let alone touched. She certainly didn’t want to start that the night before a big meeting.

It felt like she’d hardly closed her eyes when Peeta exited the bathroom and walked over to the bed. Smirking to herself, she rejoiced in her petty victory. Except… The mattress dipped under her, and she jumped as her husband climbed in behind her. With a shriek, she sprang from the bed and stood clutching the sheets in front of her.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Indignant, she wanted to smack his face. His eyes shone wide and blue with faux innocence that quickly shifted to a self-satisfied sneer.

“I’m going to bed. I told you that before I went into the bathroom. Really, Katniss. You should pay closer attention when I tell you what I’m planning. Someone might think you don’t listen. Not very good for a relationship, you know.”

“I was there!”

“And I put up a barrier, which you demolished. Seemed like an invitation.”

“You are such an asshole,” she sputtered. “Get out the bed.”

“And you’re being a total bitch. Get back in bed, and we’ll stick the pillows back between us. I’m not sleeping on the goddamn floor because you’re too stubborn to actually talk about what’s wrong between us.”

“I’m not sleeping in the bed with you!”

“Then, have fun on the floor.”

Infuriated, she fumed at him with a slack mouth and a hollowed out chest. He knew exactly what to say to hurt her, and maybe that was the problem. He knew her too well, knew all her vulnerabilities and insecurities and disappointments. Because of that, she could hardly look him in the face. If she did, she’d have to admit all the flaws she had, and if she did that, he’d know the same way she does that she doesn’t deserve him. Not in a million lifetimes.

Gutted, she ducked her head as tears pricked at her eyes. He reached for her, but she flinched away from him. She couldn’t handle his compassion, which he offered even when they were at their worst.

“Don’t touch me,” she ordered as strongly as she could, which was a pathetic attempt at regaining control. “Don’t touch me. Just put the pillows back. Please.”

He nodded, and it was almost her undoing. Turning her back, she waited until the rustling stopped before climbing back under the covers and settling on her side. The silence was louder than any noise she’d ever heard. It was matched only by the rush of blood in her ears. She stifled a sob and squeezed her eyes closed as tightly as she could. It wasn’t until she was almost asleep that she heard him.

“Goodnight, Katniss.”

She didn’t bother to answer.

****

Katniss woke to a streak of sunlight on her face and a warm fuzzy feeling that stretched from the pit of her stomach to the tips of her fingers and toes. Safe and warm, she nuzzled into the pillow, only to realize it was hard muscle covered in soft cotton, and there was something stiff poking into her thigh.

She didn’t want to move, didn’t want to risk losing the feeling of being loved and protected and cherished. There’s been so little of that in her life. Since her father died, the only person outside of her family who loved her was Peeta. Peeta Mellark, her childhood sweetheart turned fiancé who became her husband way too young, loved her. Maybe he still did, but it was hard to cling to the possibility. More likely, he wanted a divorce. She’d probably face the rest of her life alone.

She closed her eyes and floated in the sensation of being cared for by someone who didn’t have to want her. The press of muscular thighs and cut hips and…hell, she wanted that. She needed it. Desperate, she ground against the thick shaft and moaned low in her throat. It was matched by one just as frantic and eager.

“Katniss,” he whispered, and she tipped her head back to accept his kiss. He’s a dream, someone who could see past everything she couldn’t accomplish, every failure, every disappointment. “Sweetheart, you feel so good.”

He rolled on top of her and hitched her legs around his waist. They rutted against each other, groaning and whimpering at the pleasure they received from their connection. He made her feel so much better. He made her feel like she wasn’t a failure. He made her feel worthy.

“I’ve missed you so much. Missed you so much.”

Hands scrabbled at her sleep shorts. Heat flooded between them and deep in her gut. She wanted him, craved him inside her, longed for acceptance. Something about him—

“Stop!”

Peeta froze on top of her. His reaction was immediate, which only made her feel worse. She’d lost herself, forgotten who it was in bed with her. She’d led him on and allowed him to think their marriage could survive this when he’d be a million times better off leaving than staying with someone who couldn’t give him what he wanted.

“Katniss?”

“Don’t,” she warned. “Don’t talk to me like you can fix things if you only talk slowly and calmly enough. I’m not a child.”

“Sweetheart, please. Please let me in. I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered fiercely. “Please don’t do this to us.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“Tell me what’s wrong. Tell me what I did. Why did you pull away from me? What did I do that was so terrible?”

She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to breathe evenly, but sobs choked her. He hadn’t done anything. He’d only ever been a wonderful husband, and all that did was remind her that she couldn’t ever live up to what he should have. He was loved and respected and admired by everyone, and she was suspicious of the world. He could make anyone laugh, while she stood by awkwardly with an uncomfortable expression on her face. There were a million things like that, but the worst was what she couldn’t quite process enough to allow herself to embrace what he wanted to give her.

He wanted children, and she couldn’t give them to him.

She burst into tears, which she knew was the only guaranteed way to get him to back down from the brewing confrontation. He wasn’t so much of a masochist that he’d purposefully provoke a weeping woman, particularly not his wife, no matter how strained their relationship. Like she knew he would, Peeta released her and flopped onto his back on the mattress next to her. He didn’t try to comfort her. Instead, he allowed her to sob as her tears quickly converted from fake cries to full-fledged howling.

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed, and he accepted her apology without even demanding to know anything else. She knew he was frustrated, but he held the space for her, without pushing, as she worked through her outburst. Finally, she quieted, and he rolled onto his side and tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

“Better?” he asked with such gentleness in his eyes and voice and touch that she broke again.

“No!” she wailed. “It’s not better. It’s never going to be better.”

Exasperated, he sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. Without a word, he stalked to the bathroom, and she heard the shower turn on and the unmistakable sound of him stepping into it. Embarrassed, she closed her eyes and tried to still her rapidly beating heart. Nowhere in her plan for this trip did she anticipate break down in front of her husband, but she also hadn’t foreseen that they’d have to share a bed. It wasn’t like they’d been doing that at home. Not for months.

“Shower’s free,” he announced as he re-entered the room with a towel slung low on his waist.

His hair, usually ashy blonde and wavy when it was dry, clung to his head as water droplets traced down his chest. A jolt of lust shot through her, something she hadn’t felt for a long time. Without a word, she passed by him to get ready. When she was done, he’d already left for their meeting. The day passed quickly, and too soon they were back in the room together with an awkward silence hanging between them. Peeta didn’t even bother to talk. He simply got ready for bed and curled up on his side with his back to the wall of pillows between them.

Katniss attempted to fall asleep for what felt like ages, but the only thing she could do was listen to the steady in and out of Peeta’s breath. The sound was so familiar to her, and it was even more dear than that. She missed him so much, and, if the morning was any indication, he wanted her as much as she needed him.

“Peeta,” she hissed. When he merely grunted, she moved one of the pillows that separated them and reached across the barrier. “Peeta, wake up.”

“What do you want?” he grumbled without turning toward her. “Sleeping.”

“I want you.”

Peeta rolled over, but he didn’t make any effort to touch her. Pillows still separated them, but the wall they’d built between them was much worse than the temporary barrier. They needed to talk, but she didn’t intend to. She could distract him, she knew. She’d always been able to with a smile and a kiss and her body.

“Talk to me first.”

“Why? What good will it do?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe it would fix everything. Maybe, just maybe, we could save our marriage. If nothing else, it might make me think you want me and not just a night of meaningless sex. It’s not like we’ve exactly been jumping each other for the past several months.”

She sniffed at his sarcasm, although she couldn’t blame him. He’d put up with a lot from her, but he’d been kind of awful, too. His kindness earlier in the day didn’t make up for some of the cutting remarks and nasty actions he’d resorted to when he was frustrated. Still, his desperate plea for her to let him in struck at her heart, and she didn’t want to lie to him anymore. If she could just get started, the barrier between them could be dismantled.

“You wanted a baby.”

Her voice waved, but it was out there now. She knew it wasn’t her fault, had gone over the medical issues repeatedly, had processed all of it. Still, she felt like a failure. Knowing and feeling were almost never the same thing when it came to pain and disappointment.

“So did you.”

“It’s not the same.”

He signed loudly. Shifting away from him, she curled into herself at his irritation.

“Sweetheart, I love you. I’ve always loved you. Yes, I wanted a baby, but I want you more.”

“You don’t mean that,” she protested.

“I really, really do.”

“How am I supposed to believe it?”

Peeta sat up and grabbed the pillows between them and tossed them to the floor before grabbing her arm and tugging her toward him. He put his mouth next to her ear and hissed, “I want you more than anything else in the world. Do you feel that? Can’t you tell how much I crave being inside you?”

She shivered at the feel of him hard and plastered against her thigh. How he’d gotten there so quickly, she had no idea, but it gave her ideas, especially since she did some quick math in her head and realized it had been over six months since she’d slept with her husband. They still had a million things to talk about, a thousand misunderstandings to navigate, and a ton of baggage, but the removal of the barrier had begun.

“Peeta?”

When he hummed, she leaned in to kiss him. They had one more night in their shared hotel room. Katniss decided to take full advantage of it, and it didn’t take long before Peeta let her know how enthusiastically he agreed with her plan. Maybe they couldn’t fix what was between them, but it couldn’t hurt to try.

#hutchhitched #katnissdoesnotfollowback #prompt 77 #Springtime Edition 2021 #submission

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pearl-blue-musings · 3 years

Note

Hiii how are you 💖 I'm so excited your requests are open you're an amazing writer 💖 Can I please request a medium well steak (Katsuki Bakugou) with a side of mashed potatoes and peas please 👉👈💖

Babe staaahhp but I gotchu

College AU and also quirkless AU i have no self control

I ended up, as per usual, getting carried away with this hope you don’t mind!

Warnings: 18+, smut, some tooth rotting fluff, oral fem receiving, penetration, some dirty talk, pretty soft bakubabe

Enjoy your meal~

~~~~~~~~~~~

When you had started at U.A. university, you weren’t thinking of whirlwind romances or anything cliché like that. You wanted to graduate, hopefully in four years, debate about getting a masters’ degree, and then make a living doing what you love. Of course you had time for friends, going to different sporting events and clubs.

But nothing prepared you for meeting Bakugou Katsuki.

It was at a party, where else? You had finished your midterms and one of your apartment roommates wanted to go out and celebrate. Your roommate, Mina Ashido, knew of a smaller party at one of her friends places downtown. You needed the relaxation badly and just wanted to let it all out. Midterms had been extra tough this time around, but this was your second year of college so having some surprises weren’t unwarranted.

Dressed in your favorite outfit, you and Mina headed out, leaving your other roommate at home to sleep instead of party. The ride there had been filled with fun conversation about Mina’s group of friends and how chaotic they are.

“Our personalities don’t always mesh one on one, but together well we’re still crazy but we work!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, as the music pumped you up for what was to come. Once your ride dropped you off, Mina leads you to the aforementioned apartment. When the two of you walk up to the door and open it, you’re greeted by a tall and lanky man.

“Mina you made it! Just in time, I was about to rip into some of my stash. Light up?”

Mina nods eagerly and then gestures between the two of you. “Sero! This is (Y/n). The roommate and bestie I’ve been talking about?”

The three of you walk further into the apartment so you can remove your jackets in a safe room. The guy, Sero you learn, looks to you and sticks out his hand, taking it. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.” His attention turns back to the pink haired young lady, “Mi amor, ready to go?”

You notice Mina’s cheeks redden at the affectionate term and nods. You give her a questioning but sly look as you watch them head to the back of the apartment hand in hand. You find it absolutely adorable. Mina had been gushing on and on about how much she liked this one guy in her friend group. You muse to yourself that you’d be going home alone, and you were content with that.

Making your way into the kitchen, you notice a keg and a large bin filled with Jungle Juice. You can smell the alcohol from where you stand, enticing you even more. You walk up and grab yourself a cup and talk to the faux bartender. “A cup of your finest jungle juice please.”

The blond behind the tub smirks at you and fills your cup. “I’ve never seen you here,” he comments, a little louder because of the music. “Are you Mina’s friend?”

You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I guess word about me travels fast. Yeah, I’m (Y/n).”

“The name’s Denki Kaminari. Let me guess, smoking with Sero?”

The two of you share a laugh at the mutual understanding. He further explains that those two have been pining for each other ever since they met and it was getting sickening. You ended up spending more time with the cute blond, bonding over funny stories of your shared instruments over a few cups of jungle juice.

Forty-five minutes later and the two of you make your way to a couch, where others were sitting if they weren’t dancing. Your mind and head were in a state of euphoria. You were relaxed, the alcohol in your system taking you to another level of satisfaction. You liked chatting with Denki, he was very witty and funny. Suddenly, nature called.

“Hey, you don’t mind if I go to the bathroom do you? I didn’t think I’d had that much,” Denki slurred/spoke. You nod rather heavily and watch him go. You stare at the contents of your half full cup and wonder if you should pour it out or finish it. As you’re about to stand, some super drunk couple dancing bumped into you and ceremoniously spilling your drink on you and the person next to you. You scoff and whine, a mutter of curses leaving your lips as your outfit is now ruined. You’re about to stand again when you hear to your left,

“Hey you extras! Watch where the fuck you’re going!”

How long had this guy been there? Probably the whole time considering you were immersed in conversation. You finally get a good look at him and see that some of your drink had spilled on him too.

Shit

“Oh my god,” you breathe, “I’m so sorry! They bumped into me and…”

“Oi, shut up,” your stranger scolds. “Come with me, I’ll get you cleaned up and a new cup.”

Shrugging, you walk with him and notice he bumps into the offending couple. He hears them yell back but he just smirks and walks on. You realize you’re walking in the direction where Mina and Sero went a couple hours ago. You put two and two together and realize you messed up the shirt of someone who lives here. If it had been some random person, yeah whatever, but he lived here, with your best friends lover.

You start to panic.

“Oh god, you live here? Now I feel worse.”

The man turns around to face you and rolls his eyes. “Please, I’ve had worse fall on me and my floor. You were talking to Denki, right? Fuckin’ idiot.”

You can’t help but smile at that, feeling some of the uneasiness melt away. You’re then tugged into this room and notice how nice it smells. It’s kept up awfully nice for some college boys, but that’s a comment you keep to yourself. You see him take off his stained shirt and you almost fall over, tripping over nothing.

“Jesus!” You screech, “you should warn someone before you decide to Magic Mike them.” You stay turned around and keep your attention to the door. Yes the door, the wonderful door that has nothing on it but the wood paneling, it’s quite nice-

“You can turn around now, dumbass.”

You take a deep breath and slowly turn around. He’s in a dry shirt that’s black with what looks like a skull on it. In his hand is a hoodie and a pair of shorts looking insanely comfy. “Here, put this on. I’ll, uh, turn around so you can change.”

You nod hesitantly and wait for him to be completely turned around before you undress. Your body feels cold from where the cool drink had spilled onto you. Once your clothes are off you put on the clothes your nice stranger have given you. You don’t mean to, but you inhale the scent of his hoodie which surprisingly smells of sweet caramel and his cologne. That was almost enough to sober you up.

“I’m done, so you can turn around.” You hadn’t noticed how tired you sounded until you spoke. Your stranger turns around and promptly blushes lightly. You do your best to hide your smile, but it pokes out.

“Bakugou.”

“What?”

“My name, stupid. It’s Bakugou.” It’s quiet as he does his best to avoid staring at you for too long.

“(Y/n).”

He had driven you back to your apartment that night, letting you know that he’d text you once your clothes were clean, exchanging numbers at your doorstep. You had insisted it wasn’t a problem for you to do it, but he stubbornly put his foot down. If you weren’t so exhausted, you would have snapped back at him but refrained. It was cute, really. No guy had ever wanted to fix your clothes after someone else spilled something on it. But since it happened in his place right next to him, he couldn’t help himself.

The two of you continued to keep in touch after that. Eventually you became a regular member of their squad. Denki and Sero were happy to have you around the apartment, and Mina moreso. It all came so easily, your friendship with him, your friendship with the group; it was amazing that you went through most of college without them. You couldn’t imagine it all changing.

Until obviously it did.

Your new squad was chilling at you and Mina’s new place for your third year, getting buzzed off of either marijuana or alcohol. Your couch was the place to sit with Denki on one side and Bakugou on the other. Mina and Sero were snuggled into each other on a shared bean bag, passing a joint between the two of them. Kirishima sat on the ground by your feet, his head resting in between yours and Bakugou’s legs. The lofi music filling the room with the perfect ambiance; it was an ideal night. Kirishima rested his head against your thigh and felt your phone buzz.

“You gonna get that? It’s making your leg uncomfortable,” he breathes.

Bakugou flicks his friends shoulder, “Idiot, you can just move off of her leg,” hissing at the red head. You wave him off and get your phone out of your pocket. The caller I.D. makes you frown and you consider letting it go to voicemail, knowing full well he’ll just keep calling until he gets his answer.

Vermillion eyes peak over your shoulder and catch who it is that’s calling you. Turns out to be your scumbag of an ex, knowing that this isn’t the first time he’s tried calling you. Bakugou sees you start to shrink in on yourself as the phone keeps buzzing. “Give it here, dumbass.”

“Bakugou, it’s fine. I’ll just see what he has to say…”

“Fuck that,” his voice booming over the music as he snatches your phone and promptly answers it. “Listen dipshit, (Y/n) wants nothing to do with you. You broke her heart, you cheated, so stop fucking calling her! And if you call her again or even bother her again, I will beat your ass.”

Your eyes are blown wide at the ashy blond sticking up for you. Said ex had been harassing you nonstop since your break up two months ago and Bakugou had had enough. You didn’t think he would answer the phone for you, but he and Mina are the only ones who knew just how manipulative your ex had been so is this really that surprising? You hear the voice of your exasperated ex yell out over the phone. “And just who the fuck are you to tell me this? Her bodyguard?” You weren’t ready for how Bakugou would respond, eyes alight with a strong energy.

“Better, I’m her boyfriend.”

And he hung up.

When he returned the phone to you, your jaw was practically on the floor. All eyes in the apartment were on him as he lays back on the couch with his eyes closed. Then all eyes turn to you, equally surprised. Did he just say what you thought he said? Boyfriend? But you two hadn’t been on a date yet or even discussed it or…

“That should solve your problem.”

“Bakugou what the fuck!?” You yelled and punched his arm. “We’re not dating, why did you tell him that?”

He exhales softly and turns his attention to you, eyeing you all over. “Princess, you really can’t be that dense.” As he finishes speaking in a low tone, his arm wraps around your shoulders. You meet his gaze as if his eyes are asking for approval. “Is this,” he asks softly, “okay?”

Completely forgetting about everyone else in the room, you nod slowly. You close and lick your lips as you start to recall and remember every interaction you’ve had with the blond. How caring and attentive he’s been in his own way, how he would go above and beyond for you in the subtle ways. It all made sense, maybe you were super dense but it’s better late than never.

To further confirm your thoughts and feelings, you lean into him and lightly place your lips over his in a chaste kiss.

“It’s very okay, Katsuki.”

“Ew oh my god I’m right here. Get a room!”

“Shut up Dunce Face!”

That was a year ago, marking today as your anniversary. You had told him to come to your apartment after he had finished up at the gym with the guys. Luckily, Mina had made plans with Sero so you had the whole place to yourself. It was exciting to finally have some quality alone time with him before finals overwhelmed you all.

It was also a wonderful excuse for the two of you to be as loud as you wanted.

You wore a dress he really liked and underneath, a special surprise set of lingerie in some of his favorite colors: green, black, and orange. You were too ecstatic for him to see it, and better yet to take it off. You had felt a little uncomfortable because of your curves but he had always assured you that he loves you no matter your body shape.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the front door of your apartment open up. You pause your food making in the kitchen to go greet your boyfriend. As you approach the doorway, you see him and smell how fresh he is from the gym; it seems he showered at the gym. In his right hand is a bouquet of your favorite flowers and his left a gift bag.

“Hey sweetcheeks,” a growing smirk on his lips as he looks you up and down. You don’t miss the way his pupils dilate at your dress, knowing it’s his favorite. Since taking off his shoes, he steps up to you and sweetly kisses your lips. “Happy anniversary.”

“’Suki, you didn’t have to get me anything.” You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. “I’m fine with just having you.”

“Tch, dumbass. I know you got me something, you didn’t think I noticed that box that came in a couple days ago?”

You pout at him and take your gifts out of his hands and place them on the couch. “How’d you know?” You whine about the ruined surprise but you should’ve known your boyfriend better. “Do you know what it is?”

He runs his hand through his freshly washed hair and bites his bottom lip, “I think I have an idea, babe. Whatcha makin’?”

You twirl around in your dress, knowing damn well it’s an amazing and easy distraction to him. “Just your favorite. Everything should be ready in about 30 or so minutes?”

Suddenly you feel yourself being pushed up against the hallway wall, face to face with your gorgeous boyfriend. “Good,” he whispers huskily, “that’s enough time to enjoy my gift and dessert early.”

His voice went straight to your, now, damp panties.

You feel his hands grip your thighs to have your legs wrap around his torso. His hot breath fans over your awaiting lips, as he then kisses you hungrily. You feel his hard on against your stomach and you moan at the feel. Bakugou breaks the kiss to whisper in your ear, the heat touching your ear making you melt. “I wanna see what you got me, princess.”

“Anything for you, baby.”

With his hold on you secure, he takes you to your room blindly already knowing the way. With your door closed he latches his lips to your neck, sucking and licking all over. He places your feet on the ground as he grinds his hips into yours. Your breathing increases as you scratch at the back of his shirt. “Katsuki,” you whine.

“Mmm?”

“I want you to take off my dress.”

He hears your request and leaves your neck. He turns you around to find the zipper at the back, and slowly unzips your dress. You can feel his warm calloused fingers trailing down your spine and down to your tail bone. The fabric is now bunched down on the ground around your feet and you step out, swaying your hips as you turn around.

“Fuck baby,” he huffs, “for me?”

He had felt some of the satin as he unzipped your dress but it didn’t prepare him for what he saw before his lust blazed eyes. His colors look amazing on you and so does lace and satin. The flowered lace covering your breasts and nipples are begging for him to delve his tongue on them, admiring the extra fabric going across them. Your stomach is covered in a crisscross pattern that makes your skin look divine. And the garters on your legs, and lace thong? Bakugou is in heaven.

You nod at him and gesture for him to come closer. Bakugou gets to you post haste and starts touching you everywhere. His fingers trace all along your body and sneaking underneath your lingerie. He then trails his fingers up to your lace covered breasts and starts to pinch the hardening nub. A little squeal leaves your lips.

“That’s a new sound, do you like the feel of the lace against your nipple, baby?”

He pinches and pulls at them again, getting the same reaction that went right to his gardening dick. He groans and starts to knead your other breast, enjoying the feel of it in his hand. “Fuck,” he quickly kisses your lips, sticking his tongue in and lapping at yours, “I just wanna rip you out of this.”

“Hah, you will do no such thing. I paid a lot of money for this!”

“I’ll get you a new one, princess.”

“You are not ripping this one!”

He rolls his eyes and concedes, taking his delicate time to free your upper half from the sexy lingerie. You make a mental note to buy more lace related items. Immediately his lips go to your hardened bud and sucks viciously. You moan loudly as he releases you with a pop, going to your other breast. God, you wish he wasn’t so good with his hands and tongue, but the way he’s treating you and your reactions say otherwise.

Bakugou slowly moves you two toward your bed, in order to lay you down for what he wants to do next. You feel the back of your legs hit the edge and he places your body underneath his. Throughout all of this his lips never left your body. His lips trail closer and closer to your hips, as they wiggle in anticipation. “Do you,” you pant, “want the bottoms off?”

He takes the lining into his fingers and snaps it onto your unaware skin making you yelp. “No, your legs look hella sexy like this.” His hands are warm against your things, outlining the garter that leads up to your now soaked through thong. His nose brushes against the fabric covering your heat and he feels you shudder at the touch. He tentatively licks at your wetness and he groans in pleasure at how wet you are for him. Fuck he really loves you.

He doesn’t wait any longer and pushes the fabric aside and inserts his tongue into your awaiting heat. You whimper at the intrusion and a hand automatically goes to his hair, pulling lightly. He keeps moving his tongue up and down your slit tantalizingly slow as his fingers play and mess with your outer lips. Your breaths become erratic at your boyfriends ministrations. Before you can say anything, he moves his lips to your clit and sucks at it harshly. Your back arches off the mattress as you curse that the pleasure being given to you.

Two fingers have already entered your heat and scissor and stretch you open. Your hips have a mind of their own as they gyrate on their own accord. “Don’t make me force you to stay down, princess,” he hums against your heat. Just him saying that sends you into a frenzy, forcing him to plant his arm against your pelvis to limit your movements. He can feel the deep coil inside you that wants to come undone. And it’s all because of him and for him. His actions start to speed up and then suddenly he pulls away, making you whine at the loss of contact and friction.

“What the hell? I was so close!”

Bakugou snickers and wipes at his chin and sucks his fingers of some of your juices. The only word to describe him licking you off of him: erotic. “I want you to cum all over my cock, baby girl. Can you be a good girl for me, yeah?”

You bite your bottom lip and nod. As he stands to put himself on your bed, you notice his raging hard on straining against pants. Damn, it was hot. His pre was already leaving a stain and you wanted more than nothing than to have his dick in your mouth. Ruby eyes follow yours and he clicks in on what has your mouth watering. “If I wasn’t so eager to be inside you right now, I’d let you suck me dry. But all I want to is to be in your fucking pussy, you riding me.”

After he makes his declaration, Bakugou discards his pants and boxers and throws them somewhere in your room. He crawls up to you in between your legs and meets you with a fiery kiss. You taste yourself on his lips and tongue as he entangles you with his scent and flavor. It’s incredibly sexy and it only makes you want him more. You take a leg and turn the two of you over, with you hovering over his tight and toned body. You know he wants this to be special because you’re on top and you’re face to face. Usually if it’s just fucking you’ll do a plethora of positions. But right now you know that you want to enjoy each others presence and make sweet love. Sitting back on your legs, you lean over to your nightstand and grab a condom. You take the wrapper in your mouth, easily tearing it to reveal the rubber. A naughty idea enters your head.

“What are you doing, baby?”

All you do is lift your eyebrows and scoot back. You take the condom in your mouth and bend over close to his aching cock. You can feel his eyes on you as you lower your mouth onto him, slowly putting the condom over his hard dick. “Ah fuck, princess! Shit feels good. Now get on top of me. Now.”

You giggle at his impatience and make your way to his covered member. You grip it lightly as you line it up with your wet slit, teasing the head of his sensitive cock. His moans are heavenly in your ears as you don’t sink on him yet completely.

Bakugous hands go to your waist, as little whimpers leave his lips at your agonizing teasing. “Shit princess, just put it in already- Hah fuck!”

It’s not everyday you catch the ashy blond of guard but when you it’s glorious. You slam yourself down on his dick, euphoria filling your senses. You loll your head back as you begin to ride him, keeping a hand on his pelvis. The two of you find a hypnotic rhythm of him pumping up into you, and you grinding down on him.

His eyes can’t help but be locked onto where you’re connected, enjoying the sounds of your slick cunt on his cock. He moves his hands from your hips to grip your bouncing breasts, adding extra pleasure to this experience. Whines and moans leave yours and his mouths as you both chase ecstasy together.

“Fuck, baby girl, it’s like your extra tight and wet for me today.”

“Hah, it’s cause I love you,” you pants your hips gyrate faster as you feel your orgasm coming closer. “I’m so close now, daddy. I wanna cum, please.” You’re begging more than usual and it feels oh so good.

You feel your clit being abused and you shout at the overwhelming pleasure rocking through you as your pace falters. “You wanna cum for me? Show me you’ve earned it.” Bakugou sits up, making your legs wrap around his waist, still pumping into you. Your arms find purchase around his neck as you lay your head on his chest, ignoring the sweat between the two of you. “Come on, show me you’ve earned it baby.”

“I’ve earned it, I’ve earned it!”

“Then come with me baby,” he pauses when he feels your fingers dig into his back. “Shit, ah right there baby, fuck, fuck!”

Your hold on him tightens as your coil comes undone and your spill all over his cock, and you feel the way his cum fills up the rubber. You two start to slow down your movements, helping each other through your orgasms. You stay there for a little bit, just enjoying the moment and to let your heartbeats come back to normal.

You roll off of him and lay down next to your spent boyfriend. He looks at you with the most love and adoration that you feel like you’re meeting him for the first time. His palm goes to your cheek to pull you in to a soft and loving kiss. It doesn’t last long as you hear the timer on the oven and the rice maker go off around the same time. Your boyfriend grumbles and rolls to stand. He carefully takes off the used up condom, ties it up and disposes it in the trashcan.

“I’ll turn off the timer, anything else you need while I’m up?”

“Some water, and my favorite post coitus snacks.”

His eyes roll, “Idiot, you made a whole meal we’re not gonna waste it because you got sex munchies.”

“’Suki!”

He throws a towel at you, ignoring your pleas. As he walks away stark naked, you lay back in your bed. You can deal with the sheets later. A feeling of love runs over you and you realize that this is something you could get used to for a long time to come.

The diner is open

#answered #the diner #katsukichu #my writing #i did the thing #bnha x reader #bnha smut #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x y/n #bnha bakugou #mha x reader #mha bakugo x reader #bakugou smut

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mypoisonedvine · 4 years

Note

ok but what if the whole week y/n’s mom has been hovering over them and tagging along to their car rides. not because she suspects something but she’s just in a good mood and “want to spend time with my family” all the while she’s cockblocking them. reader finally snaps and goes to the bathroom where lee is showering or the garage where he’s working on the car and is like “i need you to fuck me” which he absolutely does, but the fact that this time around the mom can walk in at any moment not only makes them be extra careful, but it also makes it that much hotter

The three Bodeckers all had vastly different ideas on the meaning of ‘family bonding time.’

To you, it meant casual activities surrounding shared interests, like an afternoon spent fishing or a morning preparing breakfast together. To your mother, it meant long road trips and weekend vacations and dinners without TV, radio, or newspapers to distract from each other; constant togetherness, with barely enough privacy to breathe. To your stepfather, it meant coming up with some excuse to be alone with you so he could rail you like it was the end of the world.

A week of your mother’s idea of ‘family bonding’ had you warming up to Lee’s interpretation.

See, you’d gotten a bit spoiled by Lee’s sexual appetite, rarely ever having to get yourself off to relieve tension since he was always just around the corner and more than willing to relentlessly pleasure you. But since Monday you’d been stuck in either the back of the patrol car or the twin bed in a motel room, which meant no time or place for either. Not only that, but the backseat of the patrol car only brought back memories that made it harder than ever to keep your hands to yourself (or rather, off of yourself); sleeping in a small room with him just a few feet away was so tempting, despite the impossibility of anything happening with your mother sleeping beside him. Still, you couldn’t help but fantasize about just crawling into bed and riding that thick cock, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you down, his stubble scratching your face as he whispered all kinds of filthy praise in your ear...

“Hello? Are you listening to me?” your mother whined, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Huh?” you mumbled, sitting up from where you had been resting your head on the inside of the window.

“I said we’re about to get to our hotel for the night,” she repeated, “and tomorrow we’re going on a hike.”

“Mama, I don’t wanna hike tomorrow,” you groaned. “I thought this vacation was supposed to be about relaxing, not exercising.”

“Walking is good for your figure,” she defended.

“We didn’t need to drive all the way out here to walk!” you announced, gesturing out as if to evoke the general environment that you were currently riding through. “There’s plenty of walking to do at home!”

“But now we’re immersed in nature!”

“Nature...?” you repeated, furrowing your brow in confusion. “Mama, are you under the impression that Knockemstiff is some kind of urban environment? We live in the fucking woods!”

Lee laughed, but stopped when his wife shot him a glare.

“I don’t like that tone or that language,” she frowned. “I hope your attitude has improved by the morning or you might miss out on all the fun I have planned.”

You rolled your eyes but she seemed to relent, and you kicked your legs up onto the seats beside you to rest your eyes for the rest of the drive. You were jostled from your nap some time later when the car stopped; opening your eyes, you sat up and looked out the window and the hotel in front of you. It was actually sort of cute, in a dilapidated sort of way, but you’d seen worse so far on this nightmare of a family vacation.

Lee unloaded everyone’s bags (and by everyone’s bags, I mean your one bag, Lee’s one bag, and your mother’s six bags) while you and your mother went to the front desk to get the key. You would’ve killed even just for those few moments alone with him, but she had a sixth sense for keeping you two apart lately; it didn’t feel so much like she wanted you away from him, though, and more like she was trying to get to know you better herself. You weren’t sure what was motivating this sudden desire for a fun mother-daughter relationship after a lifetime of her treating you mostly like a nuisance, but the gestures of friendship were wholly unwelcome.

“Did you get all the bags, honey?” she asked Lee as she stepped back him to start unlocking the door. He just looked exhausted as you began to giggle at the absurdity of her asking him that when he was standing among a comically-large pile of suitcases and travel bags.

“Dear god let’s hope so,” Lee grumbled, but she didn’t seem to notice as she became preoccupied with the room in front of her once the door had swung open.

“Oh, this won’t do!” she frowned.

“It’s got a bed, doesn’t it?” Lee rolled his eyes. “And a shower, right? I need a shower.”

“We paid for a lakeview room, but all I can see out this window is trees! We’re changing rooms,” she announced.

“No no, I can see the lake,” you protested, desperate to not have to do this process all over again.

“I can’t see it,” she maintained, leaning in closer to the window and squinting.

“No, look, Ma, it’s right there! It’s behind the trees... you just have to look through the trees.”

“I can’t see through trees,” she shook her head. “I’m going to get us a new room.”

You sighed, knowing you couldn’t change her mind.

“Can I at least take my shower first?” Lee requested.

“Sure, you shower while I go sort this out. Darling,” she turned her attention to you, “would you look on this map and pick out a hiking trail for us to go on tomorrow?”

Your eyes widened a bit at that. “You mean I’m staying here?”

“Unless you would rather come with me to the front desk—”

“No,” you interrupted quickly, “no, I’ll stay here and pick a trail.”

She waved as she stepped out, shutting the door behind her. You were on Lee like white on rice, throwing yourself into his arms and kissing him aggressively.

“How long do you think she’s gonna be gone?” he mumbled against your lips as his hands roamed over your back and grabbed your ass.

“Long enough for you to fuck me,” you decided. “Let’s get in the shower.”

“You need to pick a trail—”

You glanced at the map in your hand for a moment, picking out the first one you saw before tossing it aside. “We’re doing the Yellow Springs trail.”

“But that says it’s expert difficulty,” Lee began to protest before being distracted but your hand reaching down and rubbing his cock through his slacks. He was already half-hard and growing quickly in your palm. “Fuck, you’re insatiable,” he growled.

The two of you stumbled to the bathroom and stripped with lightning speed, hopping into the shower’s stream of water before it was even hot. It wasn’t quite big enough for two people, but you fit just fine with him pressing you against the cold tiled wall as he fucked you.

“Daddy,” you whimpered as you wrapped your arms around his neck, “harder, please, I need to come.”

“She could be back any minute,” he reminded you with a gravelly voice.

“Then we’d better make it quick,” you smiled. He pushed your legs up a little higher and it made his cock push even deeper into you— so deep you nearly screamed. His hand clamped down over your mouth as he continued, only hitting deeper and harder even as tears pricked the corners of your eyes from the intensity.

“Is this what you wanted, princess? Is this what you were thinking about all day?”

You nodded, and he growled approvingly.

“Me too,” he grinned, “wanted to touch ya so bad I thought I’d die. But nothin’ can keep me away from you for very long— fuck, ‘m close.”

You were close, too, but you figured he knew that with the way your walls were tightening and rippling as pangs of intense pleasure wracked your body. The water was hot but it was nothing compared to the heat of him inside you, especially as he came, coating your walls with his thick seed and making your eyes roll back into your head.

“Fuck,” he groaned deeply, “been waitin’ so long to do that.”

He relaxed the grip of his hand on your mouth, giving you a better chance to catch your breath. He slowly pulled out and allowed you to lower your legs, though he didn’t let you go until you were sure you wouldn’t fall over. You moaned softly as you felt his come leak out and run down your thighs, instantly washed away by the water.

Slipping out of the shower wordlessly, you dried off and dressed with a few minutes to spare before your mother returned. When he emerged in a towel while you felt yourself blushing uncontrollably, she explained to both of you that she couldn’t get a new room but was able to get some of her money (also known as Lee’s money) back.

“How was your shower, honey?” she asked him once she’d finished her tangent.

“Best I’ve ever had,” he answered simply.

#twi!lee #lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x y/n #lee bodecker headcanon #stepdad!lee bodecker #Anonymous

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thewickedkings · 3 years

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Between the Two of Us ~ Chapter 10

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Summary: Jurdan High school AU. Rivals Jude and Cardan are forced to partner up for a history project, and drama ensues. Filled with banter, pranks, an unhealthy amount of pining, and Jude being clueless as usual.

Trigger Warnings: Mild cursing. Please let me know if there’s anything I missed!

~~~

A/N: This chapter is even longer than the last one, at 4k words. Also, you’re welcome in advance.

That Sunday was one of the busiest at the café. Students were streaming in to work on all their assignments before Thanksgiving break, and by the time they caught a break, Jude was out of breath.

“Damn, I don’t think it’s ever been this busy,” Lili said, wiping her forehead.

“No wonder no one else wanted this shift.”

Lili groaned. “I have to go home and write not two, but three essays. I know I shouldn’t have procrastinated, but it was my birthday week.”

“I’ll help you edit them if you want,” Jude offered. For some reason, she actually enjoyed editing essays, and Lili had definitely taken advantage of that in the past. “And you know it’s called birthday, not birth week,” Jude snarked.

“Shut up, Ms. I-made-googly-eyes-with-Cardan-all-night.”

“I did not.”

“Yes you did. Now please tell me what happened, because I know something did. The sexual tension when you guys came back down was disgusting.”

Thankfully, Jude was saved by a customer who had walked in. But Lili was stubborn, and after Jude took her order, she pressed, “Nope. Spill.”

Jude grimaced before recounting the incident, which she now referred to in her head as ‘the bathroom incident.’

Lili gasped comically. “Oh my God. Cardan has more game than I expected. Kissing your thumb after band aiding it? Hold on.” She called out the customer’s name, leaving the drink on the counter, before returning. “Damn, that’s smooth.”

Jude groaned. “I know.”

“Wait, did anything happen when he drove you home?”

“No.”

“Liar.”

Jude blushed even more as she remembered the drive. They had been bickering as usual, as if that could stop them both from thinking about the increasing tension between them.

And then the silence they’d both been avoiding like cowards descended. The painful, awkward as hell silence.

By the time they got to her house, Jude was anxious to get out of the car. She reached for the door handle right as Cardan spoke, staring straight ahead. “So we’re really not going to talk about it?”

She froze, not expecting them to address it. “Talk about what?”

“Jude.”

“Cardan,” she mimicked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Fine then.” He pushed his door open at the same time as Jude.

“What are you doing?” “Walking you to your door.”

“I can walk to my door by myself.” Her foot caught on the edge of the sidewalk, and she’d stumbled before righting herself.

“Righttt,” Cardan drawled and followed her up the sidewalk.

She ignored him, pulling out her keys and unlocking the front door. “Okay, you can go now, loser.”

“Weirdo,” Cardan said.

“You’re a weirdo.”

Cardan snickered. “Nice comeback.”

“Shut up.” She felt his gaze on her back and was thankful for the dark, because she was blushing for no reason.

“You shut up.”

They both snickered like the immature idiots they were, and Jude knew she had steered clear of the conversation for now.

When Cardan reached his car, he hollered. “We’re going to talk about it.”

“There’s nothing to talk about,” she hollered right back.

Cardan just grinned. “See you tomorrow, Duarte.”

Her expression must have been doing something weird at the memory, because Lili snorted. “You’re in deep shit.”

“What am I supposed to do?”

“Um, maybe first off, actually admit you like him?”

“I do not.”

The Bomb raised her eyebrows.

Jude groaned. “I can’t like him. Not him of all people.”

“But you doooo,” the Bomb sing songed. “You and Cardan are in-”

“Lili, I will not help you edit your essay if you don’t shut up right now.”

She went silent immediately. “That’s just cruel.”

Jude grinned. “So… how’s Van?”

Lili glared. “You’re not subtle at all.”

“I wasn’t trying to be.”

She wiped down the counter, silent for a beat before she sighed. “Fine. He’s just- I think I need to move on.” Jude opened her mouth to interrupt, but the Bomb continued. “I know what you’re thinking. Yeah, I think he likes me like that, but I don’t know… he’s always so skittish when I try to take things further. And I don’t want to ruin things between us.”

Jude knew there was more to the story, but before she could say anything, a group of girls entered the café, and Jude had to take their orders. She dismissed it, figuring she’d bring it up later.

~~~

Jude didn’t see Cardan at school the next two days. Meeting her college application deadlines took up most of her time, and before she knew it, it was Thanksgiving Break. Vivi came home from college, and suddenly their house was much more lively than usual.

Before Thanksgiving dinner, Vivi stomped into Jude’s room and shut the door behind her. “I know I haven’t visited much, but what’s going on between you and Taryn?”

Jude pulled out her headphones from her ears. “Why don’t you ask her?”

“That’s what she said too!”

“Viv, just leave it.”

“Well, you’re going to have to figure it out, because even Oak’s annoyed at this point.”

“He is?”

“You are all idiots,” Vivi mumbled on her way out of the room, before popping back in. “Oh, by the way, I think your mac n cheese is burning.”

“Shit! Why didn’t you say that first?”

Throughout dinner, Vivi proceeded to force Jude and Taryn into conversation. The ease at which Vivi slipped back into their dynamic was uncanny after so many months away, but Jude supposed that was the way with family.

Madoc and Oriana carried the turkey to the table while Jude prepared for the grand reveal. Oak bounced in his seat in anticipation of what had becomes Jude Thanksgiving tradition. When Jude pulled back the foil to reveal her mac n cheese, it looked perfectly fine. Except for unmistakably charred edges

Taryn snorted. “It’s definitely better than last year’s.”

Jude cracked a grin. Maybe there was something to say about Thanksgiving in bringing the family together.

~~~

Jude spent the end of the break hanging out with Lili, Van, and Garrett. The weird energy between Lili and Van was palpable, and Jude instinctively looked for Cardan to raise her eyebrows at before realizing he wasn’t there. Cardan had texted that he was busy with family stuff on the group chat, and Jude couldn’t help but wonder if he was avoiding her. Logically, she knew she was being self-centered and he probably was busy, but the thought stung more than it should have.

Monday came far too quickly, and Jude rubbed her eyes as she walked to her first class, bumping into the last person she expected to see: Locke. For the past few weeks, she’d been messing with him, but not too obviously that he would suspect she knew about what he did. Her revenge plan was still brewing, but until then, she could have some fun.

She and Lili made a game out of replying to his texts with the weirdest responses, just to see how much he could take. Her favorite was when she had ‘accidentally’ sent him a picture of two tampon boxes, asking which one she should get. When he had responded with a ‘whichever one fits??’ Jude had exploded with laughter before clarifying that it wasn’t meant for him, except that it definitely was.

When she’d asked him if he wanted to come to dinner to meet her sister and her parents, with an emphasis on her dad, he had avoided her for the next two weeks.

Which made it even harder to control her laugh when his face paled when he saw her. “Sorry, I’d better get going. I’m going to be late.”

“Right. Let me know if you can make it to dinner. My dad really wants to meet you.”

Locke practically tripped as he ran away from her.

“Damn, Duarte, what did you say to scare him?” Cardan’s familiar voice drawled out from behind her, and a grin escaped her lips, a small part of her relieved that he sought her out. She hadn’t realized how ingrained he was into her routine until she hadn’t seen him for a week.

His pace matched with hers until they were walking side by side, falling into their familiar groove.

“Just mentioned how much my dad wanted to meet him for dinner.”

Cardan grinned and handed her a cup full of coffee.

“What’s this for?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. It’s black. I don’t know why you would willingly drink that, but you do you.”

“Yes, okay, but why’d you get me coffee?”

“Consider it me paying you back for accidentally spilling your coffee that one time.”

“Accidentally, my ass.” She frowned at her cup. “It’s not poisoned is it?”

“Fine. If you don’t want it, I’ll find some other psychopath who likes black coffee.”

Jude hugged her coffee protectively to her chest. “No. Mine.”

“I figured. Also, we need to finish our project. It’s due…“

“Next week, I know,” Jude cut off. “We still haven’t bought a poster.”

Cardan groaned. “We should have gotten one from Dollar Tree.”

“Well maybe you could’ve gotten that instead of a tiara,” she said, grinning up at him as they stopped in front of her class.

Cardan rolled his eyes. “So are you free Thursday night?”

“Yeah. Text me when later.”

“Good. We’ll talk then,” he said, with an extra emphasis on the word talk. His eyes dropped shamelessly to her lips, long enough that it was anything but unintentional, before he smirked and strode away.

Jude called after him, unwilling to let him get the last word. “About the project!”

“Of course. What did you think I was talking about?” He disappeared before she could respond.

Kissing. She was thinking about kissing him. Ugh.

She grumbled angrily to herself as she placed her bag next to her desk. When she caught Taryn staring at her, she snapped, “What?”

Taryn opened her mouth to speak, but the bell interrupted her. “Nothing.”

~~~

After soccer practice on Thursday, Jude went home to take a shower. While blow drying her hair she texted Cardan to figure out when they were meeting up. He immediately responded with ‘can’t do my place,” and Jude frowned. After a couple messages, they ended up deciding to go to the library at Cardan’s suggestion.

Oak was throwing a fit over something or another as she headed out the door, and Oriana paused their argument to place a hand on Jude’s shoulder. “Heading out?” It wasn’t in an overbearing tone, just gentle.

“Yeah. To the library.” Jude hesitated, battling the urge to say something more. Oriana might not have been her real mother, but Jude realized what a blessing it was to have someone that checked up on her and cared the way Oriana did. She swallowed and said, “I’ll be back soon,” and headed out.

By the time she got to the library, Cardan had already texted that he was there. Seconds after she turned off her car, a knock sounded on her window, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Cardan grinned sheepishly when she opened her door. “Sorry.”

She shrugged it off and handed him the poster she from the passenger seat. She glanced around the parking lot for his car. “Where’s your car?”

“I walked.” At the shock on her face, Cardan added, “Don’t look at me like that. Just because we live in a suburb doesn’t mean I have to drive everywhere. Plus, it’s only a fifteen minute walk.”

“Okay, but… car. Fast. Walk. Slow.”

Cardan rolled his eyes and tugged her wrist impatiently. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

They walked through the archway that opened up into the entry area of the library, ‘welcome’ inscribed into the stone. The wall behind the front desk was patterned with hexagons of different pastel colors, and the librarian behind the desk gave them a friendly smile. Her dark brown hair was tied up into a ponytail, strands of gray beginning to appear.

“Cardan, nice to see you. I see you’ve brought a friend,” she said to Cardan. Her honey-colored eyes glanced at Jude with curiosity.

“Um, yeah. Mel, this is Jude. We’re doing a project together.”

Jude introduced herself, trying to hide her own curiosity.

Mel smiled at Jude warmly. “It’s nice to meet one of Cardan’s friends.” Turning to Cardan, she added, “The back room is empty, if you two want to head there.”

Cardan thanked her and gestured Jude to follow him. They passed the kid’s section, which was littered with bright signs and seating, and when they were out of hearing distance, Jude asked. “So… you come here a lot?”

“Um, I guess. I came a lot when I was a kid, so sometimes I stop by.” The tips of his ears turned pink, and damn, Jude felt something squeeze in her chest at the sight.

“Cool.”

His head jerked up at her response, and whatever he saw in her expression had him reaching for her hand and twining their fingers together. He tugged her hand, and she followed him through the stacks, the only sound their footsteps and the comforting hum of the library.

She grinned at the floor. This boy never ceased to surprise her.

They stopped in front of a room divided from the rest of the library by a wall of glass, and Cardan pushed open the door. The opposite end of the room was also completely glass, and the window looked out over the lake behind the library. A table with four chairs was on the left, and a cozy armchair sat on the right.

Cardan let go of her hand, and she ached to pull it back to hers, feel the warm callouses of his palm against hers. Instead she put the poster on the table and pulled out her laptop. “This is nice. I’m surprised no one else took it.”

“Mel saves it for me sometimes.”

Jude snorted. “You really do charm everyone, don’t you?”

Cardan sat down across her, humming in agreement. “It’s only a matter of time before I charm you too.”

“Keep waiting.”

Cardan kicked her leg under the table, and she bit back a smile. If his leg stayed there, pressed against the side of hers while they worked, neither of them mentioned it.

~~~

“Not bad, if I do say so myself,” Jude said, as she looked down at their poster. Yes, it did feel like a fifth grade science fair project, but Jude was still proud of it. Something about cutting and gluing things together made it seem so much more satisfying.

“Not bad? This is fucking gorgeous.” Cardan pushed his curls off his forehead, his silver rings catching the light. Jude’s brain automatically snagged on how unfair it was that guys could have such attractive hands. Like how did that even make sense?

Her gaze caught on them now, eyes tracing the veins and the flex of his fingers where they tapped against the edge of the table. She’d noticed that Cardan always seemed to fidget with his hands, unable to keep them unoccupied.

“Jude?”

“Hm?” She pushed her thoughts away and tried to focus. “Yes, gorgeous,” she agreed.

He gave her a strange look, and she felt a flush creeping up her neck. She started hastily picking up the scraps of paper and tidying up the table. When she dared to meet his gaze, he looked like he was battling himself with something.

“What’s up with you and Locke?” Cardan blurted a few seconds later.

“What do you mean?”

This time, his words were a little more deliberate. “I know you’re messing with him, but does he think you’re… dating?”

“I don’t know. We only went on one date, and I pretty much scared him off when I mentioned my dad.” She shrugged, confused as to why he was bringing up Locke. “Does it matter?”

His hand stilled. “I guess not.”

Silently, the two of them worked until they had finished gluing on all the information. They cleared up the excess papers and started cleaning up.

“So when are you going to break it off with him?”

“Well, I was planning to do a whole revenge prank thing, but I haven’t fully planned it out yet,” she said contemplatively, scraping off the dried glue from her fingers.

When she looked up, Cardan was looking at her with a devious smile. “What?”

“I have an idea.”

~~~

The sky was dark when they arrived at the grocery store. As they placed their items on the counter to check out, the cashier gave them a strange look. Jude simply smiled and said, “Isn’t it such a wonderful night?”

At Cardan’s direction, Jude drove to a neighborhood a few minutes from Cardan’s, and they parked in a darkened spot on the side of the street.

Jude’s nerves thrummed in anticipation. She hadn’t been this excited in so long, probably since the last time she had pranked Cardan. She had to admit that scheming with someone made it all the more fun.

Cardan pulled on a black sweatshirt, and his eyes met hers as he pulled up the hood to cover his curls. The wicked grin he sent her made her stomach squeeze.

“You take the right, and I’ll cover the left?”

She nodded, and silently opened the door and stepped out as Cardan did the same.

They crouched on the sidewalk next to some trees and silently made their way towards the lone house at the end of the street. Thankfully, Locke’s car was parked out front. They hadn’t exactly planned for it if his car had been in the garage.

A car door slammed across the street and Jude looked at Cardan. “Where-”

He clapped his hand over her mouth before she could finish, and he pointed across the street. A car was reversing out of the house next to Locke’s, its headlights nearly passing over them. Her heart beat furiously against her chest.

The car drove away, and Cardan suddenly dropped his hand from her mouth. Her lips burned from the ghost of his hand, and her heart sped up for a completely different reason.

“That was close,” she whispered breathlessly, and Cardan nodded, his eyes darting away from hers.

They crept up his driveway, and Cardan passed her three rolls of plastic wrap from his backpack. Slowly, Jude unfurled the plastic wrap, and pushed it over the top of his car until Cardan caught it. He wrapped it over his side before rolling it under the car back to Jude. She hadn’t realized how painstaking the process would be, but they kept at it. The sound of the unfurling wrap seemed too loud against the silent night.

Twenty long minutes later, Jude passed the last of the last of the final roll of wrap to Cardan. She waited for Cardan to secure it into place, shifting impatiently on the balls of her feet.

A gentle whirring sound cut through the night, and Jude’s eyes flew to Cardan, who was tip-toeing back towards her from around the car.

“Run,” he whispered urgently.

She grabbed Cardan’s backpack from the ground right as a spray of water hit her arm, drenching her and the side of the car. She glanced behind her and almost laughed, realizing the sprinklers had turned on, not some sort of security device like she had thought in her panic.

Cardan looked at her, his eyes glinting with laughter. “Come on, let’s go.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled him with her.

They ran across the sidewalk like criminals fleeing from a crime scene, narrowly avoiding the sprinklers, and Jude felt giggles breaking out of her chest. Her heart pounded against her chest, her breath coming out in pants. The cold water pressed into the skin of her arm, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Cardan’s hand in hers.

They ran all the way back to her car, and they finally stopped to catch their breath. Jude leaned back into the car, panting, her hands braced on her chest to hold her heart in.

Her eyes met Cardan’s, who was panting as if he had just been in a police chase, and a giggle escaped her mouth. And then another. And then both of them were laughing like maniacs.

“Who the fuck-” she laughed, “turns on their sprinklers-” another fit of giggles overtook her. “-at midnight?”

Cardan laughed harder, leaning into her, a palm bracing himself on the car behind her. “Your face,” he wheezed, “when the sprinklers turned on-”

She could barely breathe in. “The way you said run, oh my god.” She broke into another fit of uncontrollable laughter, clutching her stomach. Cardan wiped tears from his eyes as he tried to regain his composure.

Eventually, Jude’s laughter slowed. The sound of crickets chirping and cars whizzing by on the street behind the neighborhood settled into the air as they caught their breaths. Jude leaned back against the car, tipping her head back up to the night sky.

Cardan was still leaning into her, the moonlight casting a faint glow over his face. When she met his eyes, his lips tipped up in a little smile that sent warmth to her stomach.

With a will of its own, her hand reached up to push back his hoodie, cradling his jaw, and he swallowed, his expression sobering.

A breeze blew over them, lifted a strand of her hair from her face. Her heartbeat thudded against her chest, a different type of adrenaline shooting through her body as his eyes darted to her lips.

In an unspoken agreement, Jude leaned up, and Cardan’s head bent down to reach hers.

Their lips brushed hesitantly, a barely-there kiss, before Cardan pulled back slightly.

Oh. Oh.

“Jude.” His voice was hoarse, a question, a plea exhaled across her lips, and she silenced it with her mouth.

Their resolve snapped, and Cardan’s hand slipped to cradle the back of her head as his head dipped and his lips pressed into hers, again and again and again, warm and soft and desperate. Jude buried her hands in his hair, pulling him closer, until she was pressed against the car, his forearms caging her in.

She had never been kissed like this.

It felt as though they were running past the sprinklers again, a rush of adrenaline running through her body. Her lips parted under his, and he made a noise in the back of his throat that set her blood on fire. Her thoughts fizzled into nothing, everything except the two of them fading away.

When they pulled back for air, Cardan’s lips were swollen, and both of them were panting. He rested his forehead against hers, one hand still tangled in her hair, and Jude‘s eyes finally fluttered open.

“That,” Cardan rasped, “was worth waiting for.”

“Shut up.” Her voice was a little too breathless for her liking.

“Jude, Jude, Jude,” he murmured as he nuzzled the side of her face, and she felt goosebumps erupt on her arm. “Now you know exactly how to make me shut up.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head, barely close enough for another kiss, before shoving him back, hoping distance would help her regain her composure. “You wish. There are other ways to shut you up.”

He stumbled back with a breathless laugh. “I do wish.” He glanced around at the street, as if just remembering where they were. “We should probably go.”

“We should. Wouldn’t want to get caught.”

“Okay, right.” His hands spazzed at his side for a moment before he spurred into motion, opening her door for her with a roguish grin.

Jude didn’t exactly know what she was getting herself into, but she couldn’t bring herself to put an end to it.

~~~

A/N: And there you have it, the scene that inspired this whole thing. It’s the first scene I even wrote, and everything else was just fun to write to lead up to it. I was about to cut this chapter off before the last scene, but I decided to keep it in because it takes me forever to update. Like I said at the beginning, you’re welcome 😌 I hope it’s as good as it was in my head 😭

Okay, but the fact that this is the tenth chapter and people are still reading?!! Thank you all so much for reading this and supporting this!! I probably would have abandoned this if not for you <3

As usual, let me know what you think in the comments!! Reblogs are appreciated :)

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#between the two of us #chapter 10 #my writing #wow i actually wrote something #jurdan #tfota fanfic #tfota fanfiction #the cruel prince #the wicked king #the queen of nothing #literally one of my favorite tfota fics #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan fanfiction

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arcticguk · 3 years

Text

santa baby | knj

❅ pairing, au, warnings: kim namjoon x reader, fluff, allusions to smut, angst, emotionally and verbally abusive parents, swearing, fake dating au, best friends to lovers au, christmas au

❅ précis: you ask namjoon to be your pretend boyfriend for the holidays.

❅ word count: 4,667

❅ part of my holiday drabble series

❅ a/n: pls lmk if u need me to tag anything extra! i put stuff in the warnings, but do not hesitate to tell me if it’s not enough. also we’re gonna ignore the fact that this fic is so much longer than any of my other xmas ones :)

“Namjoon, please?”

“No.” He says firmly, shoving another spoonful of noodles into his mouth. “If this is the only reason you invited me to dinner, I’ll stop coming.”

You snort, loudly. “Like that’ll ever happen. You can’t cook for shit.”

He frowns, setting his fork down beside his near-empty bowl. “And if I do this for you, what will I get in return?”

“Besides my lovely friendship?” You smirk, earning a glare from Namjoon. “I’ll make you dinner every night for a month.”

He presses his lips together, contemplating. “Sold!”

You roll your eyes playfully, flicking his forehead.

“Hey now!” He scolds. “Is that any way to treat your fake boyfriend?”

Your family was very big on appearance. They didn’t care that you sister and her husband practically hated each other, as long as they plastered on fake smiles and put on a good show in front of everyone. They didn’t care that your little brother and his boyfriend had been broken up for two months, they paid the boyfriend to come to a family event and pretend to be infatuated with your brother for one night.

You’d showed up solo to Christmas in the past, but according to your parents, this year was important. They were throwing a huge Christmas Eve party with all of their friends, coworkers, and extended family. They’d made it very clear that if you weren’t going to show up with someone, then you might as well just not show up at all.

And you knew you should just say fuck it and not go. That’s what your brother was doing, but deep down, as much as you hate to admit it, you still crave your parents’ validation and praise.

Namjoon knows how rocky your relationship with your parents is, that’s why he was so against the idea in the first place, but here you were, packing for a trip home with your ‘boyfriend’.

“Okay, we need a backstory.” Namjoon says from the passenger seat. Reaching for the coffee in your cupholder to steal a sip. “Like how we met and started dating.”

“Wait!” He perks up. “Do your parents know that we’re friends? Because then we could say we were friends and then fell for each other or—”

You cut him off with a sharp shake of your head. “No, they don’t know. I don’t tell them very much about what goes on in my life.”

“Okay.” He says softly.

You crack a smile, biting your lip to keep tears at bay, ones you didn’t even realize had formed.

“So, this backstory huh?”

Namjoon grabs both his duffel and yours, helping you shoulder your backpack as he does the same. You take a shaky breath before slamming the car door shut. Namjoon reaches for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Five days,” He breathes in your ear. “You’ve got this.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks, pocketing your keys with your other hand. “Let’s go then?”

You and Namjoon make your way up the front walk, observing the perfectly decorated façade of the house, something you know your parents paid good money for. Before you can ring the bell, the door is yanked open, both your mother and father standing there to greet you.

“___!” Your mother chirps, pulling you in for a hug. She squeezes for a second before letting you go, prompting your father to do the same.

“And who is this handsome young man?” Your mother wonders.

“This is Namjoon.” You swallow. “My boyfriend.”

Your mother smiles, clasping her hands together underneath her chin. “Oh, how wonderful!” She squeaks. “You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.”

You shrug helplessly. “I wanted to surprise you!”

“And what a lovely surprise it is.”

“So, tell me again why we have to change for dinner?” Namjoon wonders, buttoning his grey shirt. You fluff your hair once more before turning to smirk at Namjoon.

“Because, everything in this family is an event.” You say sarcastically, giggling. He laughs, wiping his palms on his dress pants.

“You did great by the way,” You comment, sliding silver hoops into your ears. “I think they love you already.”

He looks at you, admiring the way your chiffon jumpsuit fits you, how great the black material looks against your skin.

“Joon?” You wonder, ripping him out of his daze.

“What? Oh, thanks.” He smiles.

“Hmm.” You grin, reaching up to fix a piece of his hair. He’d recently dyed it black and you were obsessed, you can’t get over how good it looks on him.

“You ready for dinner?” You wonder, reaching for his hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He sighs, pasting on a smile, gripping your hand tightly with his own.

As you make your way down the grand staircase, leading Namjoon, you smile with ease, surprised at the calm in your being. Family dinners always filled you with dread but having your best friend by your side seemed different, less scary.

When everyone is seated at the large, mahogany table, you start on your salad, taking a sip of water. For most of the meal, your parents focus their attention on Namjoon, peppering him with questions about his job, his education, and childhood.

Namjoon smoothly transitions the conversation back to your parents, wondering; “If ___ told you about her big promotion at work?”

Your mother’s gaze shifts to you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “That’s great sweetheart, congratulations.” You smile at the praise, your face warming bashfully.

After dinner and dessert, you and Namjoon bid a goodnight to your parents, sister, and your brother-in-law, before heading up to your bedroom.

“Are family dinners,” Namjoon starts, tugging his shoes off, once your door is shut, “usually that tense?”

You nod solemnly, removing all your jewelry and pulling out the elastic from your hair. “You really impressed them though!” You exclaim. “And that’s not easy to do.” You mumble, looking down at your feet.

“I’m sure it is for you.” He laughs. How could your parents not be impressed by his beautiful, intelligent, kind, and brilliant best friend.

You shrug, pulling some clothes to sleep in from your bag. “I’m gonna change then the bathroom’s all yours.”

He nods, taking the opportunity to change into his own sleepwear, setting his watch on the dresser, and setting his phone on the charger.

When you emerge from the bathroom, clad in a hoodie and matching sweatpants, Namjoon smiles softly, switching with you so he can wash his face and brush his teeth.

When he exits the bathroom, you’re working your dinner outfit onto a hanger before placing it in the closet.

You flick the overhead lights off, turning on one of the bedside lamps to cast the room with a warm glow. Namjoon awkwardly stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He speaks up. You give him a look, arching an eyebrow.

“Joon, don’t be silly,” You comment. “It’s a king size bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He smiles, gingerly sliding into the bed, tugging the covers over his lap. You smile, doing the same, pulling out your phone to watch something while Namjoon opens a thick novel from his bag. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, each doing something separate while together. It’s not awkward, in fact just the opposite. The space surrounding you and Namjoon is comfortable, calm, and it feels nice.

Namjoon learns that breakfast is the only meal where it is acceptable to dress down. After informing him that pajamas, are in fact, allowed when he’d gone to get dressed. After you slide into your slippers, he wraps an arm around your waist, letting you drag him down the stairs just as you had the night before.

You and Namjoon are the first people to arrive at the table, so you scoot your chair extra close to his, giggling when he stumbles getting into his chair. His smile dimples his pink cheeks, a sight that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Your head is nestled in the crook of his neck, cheeks warm with laughter, giggles escaping your lips at the story Namjoon finished telling you. Namjoon’s lips are parted in a wide grin, one arm flung loosely around the back of your chair, the other one resting on your thigh. When your laughter has subsided, you nuzzle further into his neck, sighing heavily. Namjoon’s hand cradles the back of your head, lips near your ear.

“You doin’ okay?” He wonders softly. You nod against his neck. You reach for his free hand, squeezing it tightly with your own.

“I’m fine.” You breathe. “Just a little on edge.”

He nods in understanding, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

It was not unusual for you and Namjoon to be affectionate with each other, but this morning, butterflies were flapping in your stomach, the way Namjoon is treating you borders on couple territory.

“Well look who’s up!”

The warm, soft atmosphere Namjoon had created for you, vanishes when you hear your mother’s voice, your shoulder’s tensing, head whipping around.

“Hi, hey, good morning.” You stumble, moving you chair back to its normal spot, putting some space between you and Namjoon.

“Good morning.” Namjoon greets with a dimpled smile. He reaches for your hand underneath the table, giving it a big squeeze.

You smile at the small show of affection and squeeze back.

Your parents wait until your sister and her husband have joined at the table, taking their seats directly across from Namjoon and you.

“Orchid!” Your mother says, speaking directly to your older sister. “You should’ve seen Namjoon and ___, when we first came down.” She smiles motioning at the two of you. “They were all over each other.”

Your sister looks to you, eyebrows raised.

“We weren’t, I don’t—” You flounder for words in your haste, Namjoon smoothly cutting you off as he puts his arm around the back of your chair.

“It’s hard not to be when you’re with someone as wonderful as ___.” Namjoon chirps. You step on his foot under the table.

“Cheesy much?” You wonder, quiet, but still loud enough for the other members of the table to hear you.

“Only for you honey.” He produces a megawatt smile before pecking a kiss to your temple.

Your mother practically falls out of her seat swooning, but not before giving a pointed look to Orchid and her husband, Sungmin.

That was what your mother did. She pitted the two of you against each other, pulled out your insecurities and served them out on a silver platter. Orchid and Sungmin were on the brink of divorce, of course they aren’t affection with each other. You were just waiting for your mother to sink her claws into you.

“Oh but ___, did you hear about Orchid’s big case?” She wonders, a vile smile creeping up her face. “It’s very important and her boss has entrusted her with handling it. I have no doubts she’ll win.”

“That’s great Orchid.” You smile. “Congratulations.” You feel genuine warm feelings towards your sister, your shitty childhood making your relationship stronger. Orchid had often held you when you cried and let you sleep in her bed when you were really upset after something your mother had said.

“And ___,” Your mother shifts her attention fast enough to make your head spin. “How’s work?”

“It’s great.” You manage through gritted teeth.

“She actually just got a promotion.” Namjoon smiles. “Like I said last night, its super exciting.” You don’t miss the little dig at your mother, and you suppress the urge to laugh. He grins proudly and you can’t help but smile a little. Namjoon had been the most supportive person in your life ever since he came into, overwhelmingly proud when you became got your degree and again when you got your first serious job.

“I’ve never understood how people can find joy in accounting.” Your mother spits. “It seems boring and there’s so many numbers.”

“Actually,” You pipe up. “It’s very interesting and you can really—”

“Still, I could never do it.” She cuts you off sharply.

“___ is incredibly intelligent.” Namjoon speaks again, eyes locking right on your mother’s. “It’s not boring for her. Although I could see how it could be for those who don’t understand numbers as well.”

Your mother’s jaw drops just the slightest, before she shuts her mouth, arms falling helplessly to her lap. You could kiss Namjoon right there, no one’s ever gotten your mother to shut up like that and you revel in it.

Once your mother has composed herself, she clears her throat, gaining the attention of everyone, yet again.

“So Namjoon, what do you do?”

“I’m a writer.” He answers, posture tall and confident, his eyes right on hers again.

“That’s lovely.” She comments. “Did you know that Sungmin is a doctor?”

“I did not.” He says politely. “That’s a very admirable job.”

“So is writing!” Sungmin pipes up. “I’ve always wished I had a talent with words like that. I used to pay my friends in university to write papers for me.”

Namjoon chuckles at that, smiling.

“Namjoon writes for a magazine in our city and he does some freelance stuff for big companies too.” You say proudly and he grins at you.

“That’s awesome man,” Sangmin comments. “I’d love to read some of your stuff sometime.”

“Yeah, I can—”

“But surely writing can’t be as fulfilling as a doctor. Nothing can beat saving lives.”

Everyone straightens grimly, all smiles disappearing.

“Remember I’m a general care physician, I don’t perform major surgeries.” Sungmin smiles awkwardly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t save lives baby.” Orchid coos, setting her hand on his forearm. “But no career is better than another.” She comments, looking directly at your mother. “Every job is important, and everyone has different things they’re passionate about.” She looks at Namjoon now. “And I think writing is wonderful. You must be really smart.” You smile at your sister in thanks and she winks.

Your mother just scoffs, finally deciding to be quiet and eat her breakfast.

That was really…intense.” Namjoon sighs, tugging a clean crewneck over his head. You look up from the mirror where you’re rubbing moisturizer into your skin.

“Hmm.” You hum in agreement. “I’m so sorry by the way. The way my mother treated you was unacceptable.”

“It’s okay.” He answers honestly. When he sees your frown deepen, he sets his hands on your cheeks.

“___. I promise you it’s fine.”

“I just feel bad. It’s bad enough you had to come here and do this but now my mother is insulting your career and—”

His thumb nudges your chin, prompting you to stop talking. “First of all, I didn’t have to come here okay? I chose to be here. And second, you are not accountable for the things that mother says. She’s not nice to you either.” He reminds you with a soft smile.

“Thank you.” You say simply. He kisses the top of your head before scrounging his suitcase for his Converse. “Okay, I’m making an executive decision for us.” You state, flopping down onto the bed. His eyebrow quirks in curiosity, smiling, encouraging you to go on.

“We’re going out.” You announce. “I can show you my hometown, we can go shopping, get food. And if we time it right, we won’t have to be here for lunch or dinner.”

“I like the way you think.” He smirks, winking as he laces up his sneakers.

You’re a little buzzed from the spiced cider you had at dinner, giggling when Namjoon helps you out of the car, one arm already full of bags from the purchases you’d both made that day.

One of the things you loved about coming home, was getting to visit all the little shops and restaurants that were set up in town. You and Namjoon spent the day supporting your local small businesses and you couldn’t have been happier. It was a great way to spend time with your best friend—and get away from your parents.

You lean into him as you make your way up the front walk, giggling again when he trips on the cobblestone, his stature pitching forward before he catches himself.

Your parents and sister are lounging in the front room, your parents seated on the large sofa, your sister and Sungmin across from them on the loveseat.

“___, Namjoon, come join us!” Your mom suggests cheerfully, a glass of red wine resting in her hand.

“Okay,” Namjoon nods. “Let us take these bags upstairs and we’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you up the staircase, hand on your lower back.

“We probably should hang out for a bit,” You comment. “We haven’t seen them all day.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, taking the bags from your hands, setting them in the closet alongside his suitcase.

“Lemme just change,” You say, peeling your sweater over your head, eliciting a blush on Namjoon’s cheeks, his head ducking down.

You trade your sweater and jeans for a hoodie and Christmas-themed pajama pants, heading into the bathroom to scrub off your makeup while Namjoon changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Your parents look up when you reenter, smiling softly when they see the way you’ve nuzzled yourself into Namjoon’s side.

“Oh! Look what we put up earlier!” Orchid comments, pointing to the doorframe right above you and Namjoon.

Mistletoe.

“Oh, ha ha.” Namjoon chuckles awkwardly, his face heating up once again.

“Come on lovebirds,” Your sister laughs. “Give us a little show.”

“Gross Orchid.” You mumble, glaring right at her.

“You have to!” Your mother giggles. “It’s the rules.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to melt into the floor, scratching the back of his neck.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s lingering in your body, or how cute your best friend looks with his red cheeks, but something fills you with confidence, and you squish his warm cheeks with your hands, pressing a hard kiss to his pouted lips.

Your parents laugh and cheer, Orchid clapping good-naturedly. When you pull away from Namjoon, his eyes are wide, puffy lips parted in astonishment.

“So, this is it huh?” Namjoon wonders, straightening the red tie around his neck, which not-so-coincidentally matched the exact shade of your cocktail dress. “The big party.”

“Yup.” You nod, double checking your makeup in the mirror.

To say Namjoon was nervous about the Christmas Eve party, was an understatement. He was freaking out. He wants to make a good impression on everyone, in hopes that he can sell the lie the two of you have been living the past few days.

“You’ll be fine.”

He nods, swallowing harshly. He doesn’t admit it to you, but the party isn’t the only thing making him uneasy. You had never talked about last night, after you had kissed him, everything went on as usual, as if it never happened.

You slip into your heels, giving him a small smile.

“Alright,” You sigh softly, taking his arm. “Party time.”

You swallow another sip of champagne, gripping tightly to Namjoon’s arm. He had survived all of the introductions, and unsurprisingly, everyone loved him.

Dinner had already been served, and everyone was mingling, upbeat holiday music filtering through the speaker system, champagne and wine flowing easily.

Your parents were talking to some clients from your mother’s interior design firm, and you know without listening that she’s talking about you and Orchid.

That’s the thing about your mom—she’ll criticize every decision you make, but in front of everyone else she plays the proud, devoted parent, bragging about all of your accomplishments, as if she had anything to do with them.

Namjoon senses your discomfort and he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head. The wine he’d been drinking had earlier served as liquid courage, but now that he was relaxed, he was just sleepier and cuddlier than usual.

“You okay?” He murmurs, lips at your ear. You nod robotically, leaning against his shoulder. Obviously, you’re not okay and he knows that, so he takes your hand, leading you outside to the back patio for a moment of fresh air.

Noticing the chill on your skin and the shiver in your movements, he drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, wrapping an arm around you.

“You’re not okay.” He whispers. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just,” You sigh, leaning into his embrace. “My mother. She’s so critical and finds fault in everything we do, yet when it comes to appearances and other people, she has nothing but good things to say.” You bite your lip to hold back the tears that fill your eyes, looking out into the wooded backyard. “If she really is proud, then why can’t she ever tell us?”

“Oh honey,” Namjoon frowns.

“It just feels like nothing I ever do is good enough. I work hard, I did well in school, but it’s like it’s not good enough. Why do I care so much about my parents’ approval, why can’t I just be proud of myself because I’ve done well?”

You don’t stop the tears from falling, splattering onto your cheeks and no doubt making tracks in your carefully applied makeup.

“I’m sorry.” Namjoon whispers. “I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I’m insanely proud of you and I wish you could see how wonderful you are, so deserving of love and praise.”

“I love you.” You blurt, the words spilling so easily from your lips, with a little help from the champagne in your system.

“Oh,” He smiles. “I love you too, you know th—”

“No Namjoon, I love you.” You murmur.

Something sparks in his eyes, you don’t see the way his demeanor changes, as he realizes what these feelings were—are. Spending all this time with you has made him feel different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the feeling. But now, he knows, he loves you too.

“Can we go upstairs?” You wonder. “I’m so tired, I can’t be down here anymore, I just want—”

He cuts you off with a nod, taking your hand and letting you lead him to the back staircase, so you can escape without anyone seeing you.

Once the door is closed—and locked, you fling off your heels, flopping onto the bed. You drag your ring finger under your eyes, in attempt to collect the mascara clumps that washed off your eyelashes with the tears you’d shed.

“I love you too.” Namjoon announces, throwing his tie and shoes in a pile before standing over you. “God, I love you so much. I never realized how I feel, but now I know and—”

You cut him off with a press of your lips on his, hands grabbing for his shoulders and pulling him down. His lips melt into yours, returning the kiss with more fervor, mouth warm and soft.

You’re gripping on his shirt, clawing at the buttons when he pulls back slightly, running a hand through his damp locks, slicking it up onto his head.

“H-honey,” He starts, stumbling over his words a little. “I don’t know if we should be doing this right now.”

“What?” You pout, sitting up. “Why not? Do you not—”

“No, no, no, trust me I want to.” He sighs. “But you’re upset, we’ve been drinking…” He trails off and you whine.

“Joon please, I want this, I want you, I love you.” You frown, setting a hand on his cheek.

He looks into your eyes, searching for an ounce of hesitation. When he doesn’t find any, he you pull him back down, hovering above your form.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Positive.” With your affirmation, he presses his lips to your own, lightly tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

He breathes in the groan that passes through your lips, sighing deliciously. After Namjoon’s tie is crumpled on the floor and a failed attempt at the buttons on his shirt, you tug on each side until it releases, the fabric literally ripping before you toss it away.

Namjoon only chuckles, shifting positions so that you can straddle his lap. Your hands grip his hair, exhaling when his lips meet the skin on your neck.

“I love you.” He simpers, lips behind your ear. “I love you so damn much.”

When you wake up the next morning, something’s changed. Not only between you and Namjoon—who’s currently cuddled into your side—but also the way you feel about yourself.

“Joonie,” You coo, tousling his hair. “Joon wake up, it’s Christmas.”

“Mmm, morning Christmas,” He murmurs sleepily. He nuzzles his face into your neck, eyelids falling shut.

“Namjoon,” You whisper. “C’mon. Let’s get up.”

“Please?” He whines. “Can we please sleep for a little longer before we have to go down there?”

“No Joonie, we’re going home.” You push back the covers and climb out of the bed, cold air flushing your skin.

His head snaps up, eyes perking up. “What?!”

“We’re leaving.” You announce, sliding on his t-shirt from two nights ago. “Unless, you want to stay?” You tease, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll start packing now!” He gets out of bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek before grabbing some fresh clothes and entering the bathroom.

You dress and pack up your belongings, so that when Namjoon is ready, you are too.

The two of you hold hands down the stairs, leaving your bags by the doorway before venturing into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Your mother chirps. “Merry Christmas!”

“Hey guys.” You greet awkwardly.

“Come, sit down—have some breakfast, then we’ll open gifts.”

“Actually Mom,” You breathe. “We’re leaving.”

“What!?”

“Namjoon and I are going to go home.”

“Absolutely not, sit down.”

“No Mom. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I thought now that I’m grown up you would actually treat me with an ounce of respect, but I was wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Your mother snaps.

“Come on honey, let’s just go.” Namjoon urges, squeezing your hand tightly. You shake your head, squeezing his hand back.

“Before we leave I have something to say, and you’re going to listen to me.” You tell your mother, tone firm yet gentle. “For my entire life I’ve taken shit from you. The verbal abuse, emotional abuse, all the digs, all the criticism. Nothing I ever did was good enough for either of you and I’m done with it. I’m happy with who I am, what I do, and who I choose to spend time with. I’m done trying to impress you, this is my life, not yours. I am more than good enough and shame on you for not seeing it.”

You take a shaky breath wiping the single tear that fell down your face while you were speaking.

“And you Dad?” You add, redirecting your gaze. “You never did say anything. Never stood up for us, and God forbid you actually were proud of us without Mom telling you, you were allowed to be.”

Your parents sit there, dumbfounded. You take a moment to catch your breath before turning to look at Namjoon, who is trying very hard to bite back his grin. Orchid’s face is a mixture of admiration and pure joy, mouthing; I’ll call you later.

“Honey, I’m sorry you feel that way.” Your mother manages, thinking for her next words.

You swiftly shake your head.

“I love you both, but we’re leaving.” You smile. “We can work through this, only if you’re willing. But for now, I want to go home and spend Christmas with my boyfriend.”

You and Namjoon turn to leave, collecting your luggage before loading up the car.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon blurts. “That was fucking amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “It felt good.” He leans over to kiss you, hand cupping your cheek.

“It was also pretty fucking hot.”

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 3 years

Text

We've Got Tonight - Ch 5

Summary: “It’s not your job to do this, Andy. You make people happy. I was in the diner all of ten minutes, and you knew exactly how to get me to smile. You do normal, real things like garden and sing karaoke. Saving the world is my job, Sam’s job. Sometimes it’s even Cas’s job, but it’s not yours.”

Inspired by Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight”

Warnings: Major Character Death, More Major Character Deaths (sort of?), higher than show level violence, blood, light smutting, language, demons, apocalypse, inferred suicide, cult activity.

18+ ONLY, MINORS DO NOT PROCEED

Author’s Note: This story is set hazily around season 8. Just squint a little, and it’ll settle in somewhere. I wrote this story after certain big revelations in the show, but before other big ones; you’ll most likely be able to tell which. I play with time a bit in the story itself, so if things seem out of order, they are. Hopefully, by the end, all the pieces will fit together.

What the hell, let’s give it a shot.

Image and major edits by the incomparable @there-must-be-a-lock . Heavy editing and cheering by @thoughtslikeaminefield . Thank you both so much.

This chapter in particular is dedicated to @foxyjwls007 . If I'm going to torture you with something, it's not going to be a cliffhanger. I'm going out of town for two weeks, so you get an update early since I won't be able to post while I'm away. Thank you for the encouragement.

In case you missed it: Chapter 4 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

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We’ve Got Tonight

Chapter 5

“Miss? Miss? Hey, are you okay?”

A hand grips Andy’s arm, firm but polite, and she jerks to, almost losing her footing. It’s been a long day already, and she still has two hours before she can go home, shower, and put her feet up for a little while before karaoke at the Brass Monkey starts up.

Maybe I can even fit in a nap, she thinks excitedly. But first, gotta wake up and make it through the rest of my shift.

Of course, if she hadn’t been tossing and turning all night from a crazy dream, she wouldn’t be as tired as she is now, but that’s neither here nor there. And it doesn’t help that she can’t even remember the stupid dream. It was really long, though, and there was blood and books and…someone...

“Can I get a refill over here?”

One hour, forty-seven minutes, and twenty-two seconds to go. She can do this.

The minutes crawl, though, and it’s all she can do to stay on her feet and focus. The lunch crowd has long since thinned, and she’s about to ask if she can maybe take off a little early when the door chimes, and she catches the tail end of the entering customers’ conversation.

“Could you at least consider putting something green on your plate? Like, ever? Broccoli won’t kill you.”

“I’ve already told you, I’m getting breakfast since you didn’t wake me up early enough to eat a decent one this morning. Pancakes, bacon, and coffee, which, I might add, grows on a tree, so it counts as a plant. That’s balanced enough for me. You like broccoli; knock yourself out, Jolly Green.”

“Sam isn’t green, Dean. Is your vision faulty? Perhaps we should get your eyes examined. Or you could try carrots along with the broccoli. Carrots are supposed to improve vision.”

No. No, no, no, she thinks, her mind whirling frantically. It was a dream, they can’t be here. This is...this is how it started, and...

She turns, and there they are, Sam and Dean dolled up in their clean, pressed feds suits and Cas looking just as rumpled and bewildered as she suddenly remembers. They seat themselves at an empty table in her section, but any thoughts of leaving early evaporated the second she heard their voices.

Every moment of the dream, every minute of those four weeks comes screaming back, cramming each terror-laden, tension-ridden second into her mind so fast she actually does stumble and has to grab the back of a nearby booth to keep from hitting the worn-out linoleum.

“It...hasn’t happened yet.”

“I’m sorry, did you say something? Hey, hey, hold on there. Are you okay?”

Then Sam’s hand is supporting her elbow, helping her straighten up, and she looks up into his concerned eyes, unable to express how glad she is just to see him breathing. Behind him, Dean and Cas are arguing about something trivial, wonderfully animated and alive and completely unaware of her.

“I’m sorry, hun, it’s just been a long shift. Gimme a minute to grab some waters and menus, and I’ll be right over.” Sam accepts her flimsy excuse at face value, and why wouldn’t he? He hasn’t lived with her for the better part of a month, hasn’t saved her life once, hasn’t tried to save the world with her. He doesn’t know her at all.

Why should he question a strange waitress in a strange diner who says she’s had a long day? He’s met hundreds of women just like her, maybe thousands, and he’s got no reason to question a completely legitimate statement.

She rushes into the back to find the coldest water possible to splash on her face. Her reflection gapes back at her from the staff bathroom mirror as the enormity of her situation begins to dawn on her.

Why? Why is this happening? Either she actually lived through those weeks and is somehow getting a do-over, or she dreamed the whole thing and is getting a shot to fix things from this end. But why? And how?

How in the hell?

Think, Andrea, think. It was real. It will be real. It hasn’t happened yet. You haven’t screwed everything up yet. You have to fix this. But how? How can I fix it when I screwed everything up so very badly last time?

Just...think. Think. Start small. Try to stop it before it happens. But...the cult. Crowley said they were real. They found me before, they’ll find me again. I could talk to Sam and Dean and Cas about what's going to happen. They’ve been through enough insanity in their lives that I actually have a pretty good shot at convincing them.

She stares into the mirror, racking her brain for every helpful detail she learned during her time with the Winchesters.

They're already investigating all the break-ins hereabouts; those were the cultists looking for me in the first place. Then they find me, take me, bleed me, and start the apocalypse. The boys could stop the ritual before it even happens.

Her reflection in the mirror frowns, unconvinced the solution could possibly be that easy.

But the literature, the books, it’s all still out there. Someone else could find it, could come after me. My blood is the problem. I’m the key. As long as I’m around, someone could still use me to end everything. Crowley can still use me to get to them. Think. You’ve got to actually stop everything and save them this time.

Her eyes widen as realization dawns. The world can’t make it without the Winchesters. There’s only one way out of this.

Fifteen minutes later, she sets a fresh green salad in front of Sam before dropping a towering stack of steaming pancakes in front of Dean.

“Fresh pot of coffee coming off in two, be right back with your refills. Need any more butter or syrup, hun? How ‘bout a couple of extra pieces of bacon on the house?”

“Don’t encourage him, please,” Sam groans. Dean slaps his brother on the back of the head, sending Sam’s coiffed hair into a tizzy of disarray. Sam swipes back at his brother, who waves off Sam’s attempts at retaliation like he’s swatting a fly.

“You shut your pie hole. She said free bacon. That makes her a queen.” He turns his most charming smile on her, glancing down at her name tag then back up to meet her gaze squarely. The crinkles around his eyes deepen with his grin. “Andrea, is it?”

“Andy,” she corrects automatically, and she can’t help her answering smile. He throws her a wink that clearly says he knows he’s cheesy but it's all part of his irresistible charm.

She doesn’t disagree.

“You are a goddess, Andy. I love you, and you need to know that.”

“You don’t,” she says, only just managing to keep her voice and smile level, “but you could.” His answering laugh sends a twinge through her chest, and if she clenches her jaw a little around her smile, she figures she’s entitled.

When the men finally finish eating, she offers a slip of paper to Dean, while Sam pretends he isn’t rolling his eyes.

“There’s a karaoke competition at the Brass Monkey tonight. Winner gets tab on the house for a week. Interested in maybe meeting up there around ten or so? We could have a drink, sing a song, and see where the rest of the night takes us.”

He grins and takes the slip from her with sure fingers. She’s certain he has her number memorized before the paper even retains his prints, but he makes a special show of tucking it safely into his pocket.

“Dean, do you think it wise to allow yourself to be so distracted when we’re in the middle of an investigation?”

And without even realizing it, Cas gives her the perfect opening.

“Oh, you boys investigating all the break-ins hereabouts? Were they too much for our local boys to handle? Listen, hun, my friend was one of the ladies whose house got broken into. If you want to stick around for a few minutes, I can fill you in on what I know and send you her way. Would that help?”

Castiel’s eyebrows lift in surprise, and he is clearly pleased with his first-rate investigating skills. “That would help immensely, Miss Andrea. Thank you.”

She can’t believe her luck at such a perfect lead-in, and she runs with it.

“Now that I think about it, the shop next door mentioned something about their alarm getting tripped a few nights in a row. Maybe I could talk to your friend while you two check it out? And I’ll see you tonight, Dean? Ten o’clock?”

Dean’s grin softens, and she can see the faintest tinge of red along his cheeks. She didn’t notice it the first time around, and now she wishes she’d paid more attention. Then the brothers leave, and she’s alone with the angel. ...

Chapter 6

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thebadgerclan · 3 years

Text

Caught

Pairing: Harry Potter x reader

Requested by Anonymous

Summary: Sex in your parents’ house isn’t a good idea...

A little smut, but only like one paragraph

A/N: Lily and James live, no second war AU, takes place after Harry’s 6th year.

A smile was plastered on your face as you got off the Hogwarts Express. You were spending part of the summer at Harry’s in Godric’s Hollow as your parents were going away for a few weeks for an anniversary trip. Yes, you spent most of every day with Harry, but a few extra weeks with your boyfriend wasn’t something you were going to pass up. Lily and James pulled you into a hug when they saw you, so happy to have you as a houseguest for a few weeks.

They Apparated from Platform 9 ¾ straight into their living room, and James hauled your trunks into Harry’s room. That night, Lily prepared your favorite meal and you ate outside, real fairies fluttering overhead. “We’re so happy to have you here, Y/N,” she said, serving Harry’s favorite, treacle tart, for dessert. “I’m so happy to be here, thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Potter.” “Call me Lily, dear,” she said, patting your hand, and you smiled.

***

A week passed into summer break, and it had been the best week of your life. Playing pick up quidditch in the backyard: you and Harry against Lily and James, Harry showing you around his childhood neighborhood, or just spending time together. Tonight, as you did every night, you changed in the bathroom across the hall from Harry’s room and joined him in bed. You cuddled into his side, ready to go to sleep, but it appeared Harry had other ideas.

His hands slid from where they rested on your side to your ass, kneading the skin there. “Harry,” you said, your voice slightly warning. “We can’t, your parents-” “Won’t know if we’re quiet.” Neither of you were 17 yet, and thus couldn’t cast a silencing charm as you would at Hogwarts. You thought for a moment, but your need for your boyfriend overtook rational thought, and you nodded. “Merlin, I love you,” Harry breathed against your lips, kissing you as he straddled you.

As he slept shirtless, Harry wriggled out of his pajama pants and boxers, his hard cock bumping against your stomach. “Fuck,” he sighed, pulling your sleep shorts off, rucking your shirt above your breasts. “Please, Harry,” you whimpered, and he pressed his lips to yours as he slowly entered you. Harry began rolling his hips, sharp breaths leaving his mouth. “Oh shit, Y/N, you feel so good.”

“Harry, love, you left your- MERLIN’S BEARD!” Lily had opened the door, Harry’s quidditch gloves in hand. Harry grabbed the sheet and covered you, his face flushing Gryffindor red. Lily shut her eyes, breathing deeply. “Both of you, make yourselves decent and get into the living room.” She shut the door behind her, and you could hear her waking James. “Fuck,” Harry said, his hands in his face.

He handed you your shorts and your bathrobe while he dressed himself. Shamefully, he opened the door and made his way to the living room, you trailing in his wake. You sat on the opposite end of the couch from him, unable to look him in the eye from embarrassment. Lily and James entered, clearly upset. She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose while James stared at the floor.

“I’m not going to pretend that what I just saw hasn’t happened before,” she said, trying to keep her temper. “But that fact that you thought it was a good idea to do it right across the hall from your parents, Harry, that disappoints me.” She paused, but neither you nor Harry spoke. Lily nudged James, and he cleared his throat. “You’re away from home 9 months out of the year, we’d be stupid to assume that was the first time. But for Merlin’s sake, show a little respect, Harry.”

“Mum, Dad, I’m really sorry,” Harry said weakly. Lily then turned to you. “At least tell me you’re safe about this.” “Of course we are, Mrs. Potter,” you said, reverting to her title. “I’m on the potion and we’ve used the contraceptive charm.” “Good. I’m sorry, but Y/N, you’ll have to sleep out here for the rest of your stay.” “Of course,” you agreed. “I completely understand.” “No,” Harry interjected, and the rage in Lily’s eyes was, for a moment, terrifying. “I’ll stay out here, Y/N can take my bed.”

“That’s very kind of you, Harry,” Lily said, her temper cooling. She flicked her wand and the couch transformed into a twin sized bed. “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Potter,” you said, fidgeting with the tie on your robe. “I know you are, dear. Just don’t let it happen again.” “We won’t, Mum.” “Good.” You stood, and Harry did the same. You pulled him into a hug, kissing him briefly. “Night,” you said, kissing his forehead. “I love you.” “Love you too, Y/N.” You made your way back down the hall into Harry’s room, leaving the door open for good measure. Settling into his bed, you hugged one of his pillows to your chest as you fell asleep.

#harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter reader insert #semi-nsfw

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hurricanery · 3 years

Text

If You Went Away - pt. 4

A/N: Here’s part 4! You can read the previous parts here:

part 1 // part 2 // part 3

If you sent a different prompt, I will get to it/start posting stuff in between. Thank you if you sent a message encouraging to post this next, the feedback is very much appreciated <3 This chapter takes place starting the day after Halloween/the day after the last chapter’s events.

_______

(present day)

A groan leaves her lips the second she opens her eyes and a dull, familiar ache expands through her head. The type of subdued headache you wake up with when you’re five years old and your temper tantrum is what finally put you to sleep in the first place.

But she’s not five years old. She’s a full grown adult who apparently still cries herself to sleep sometimes.

Her first thought is that it’s way too bright in here.

It takes all of her strength to push herself up and stumble across the room in an attempt to shut the blinds.

She manages to fulfill the task, but she’s interrupted on her way to climb back into bed. Because she’s gracelessly tripping over her boots, and her jeans, and her jacket. All of the things she’d worn the night prior. She steadies herself, as the unwelcome realities of the morning catch up with her.

And then it all hits her. As she looks down, noting her attire, dressed in only Link’s Mariners sweatshirt.

Suddenly she needs support. Her legs feel like they might give out from under her as the sleep-induced drowsiness fades and the trainwreck situation that was the night before crashes down on her.

Her head starts to spin as she tries to shut out her own self awareness. The awareness that she’d shown up here last night, acting completely unhinged, and then in her post-surgery sleep-deprived state, she’d practically begged Link for contact. Begged him to touch her. She cringes. Because those were almost her exact words.

She glances at the clock. It reads 9am. Which means Link was definitely at work by now, and Scout was definitely still sleeping. She forgoes her desire to crawl back into bed, and instead, decides a shower will help wash away her faults.

She enters the bathroom that’s attached to their room, reaching her hand over to turn on the shower. She waits a few minutes for it to warm up before stripping the sweatshirt off and hauling her body into the tiled stall.

She sits. Because that’s all she feels her body will allow.

She sits huddled on the shower floor, knees pulled into her chest, as the steady stream of hot water hits her in the back.

She focuses on the sound of the shower, trying to let it soothe her. Somewhere in the back of her mind she registers the sound of her own breathing, trying to keep it steady. Her body feels numb as she focuses on the persistent sound of the water hitting the floor around her. It pounds in her ears, and if she focuses hard enough in her mind, she can trick herself into thinking she’s caught up in a thunderstorm. She likes that better. Pretending to be somewhere else. It’s easier than coming to terms with her own inconsistencies.

In her mind, it’s absolutely pouring. And when she concentrates deeply enough, she can hear the occasional crash of thunder. It’s quiet, but it’s there. Almost resembling the sound of her front door slamming shut with the wind. But more powerful than that.

However, it must be windy, because she feels the house creak with movement that she’s not making herself.

“Mommy….?” A familiar, timid, voice sounds from somewhere in the distance. And Amelia startles only a little.

“Mom?” This time it’s louder, closer.

And now she’s panicking a little. Because she knows Scout hates storms.

A knock against wood shakes her from her reverie and she lifts her head enough so that it meets the stream of water from above. And all of a sudden her head is stinging, because this water is absolutely freezing now.

“Mom?!” his voice is close now, and bordering on impatient. His tone brings her back to reality and she completely realizes where she is. How long had she been in here?

“…Scout?” Amelia finds her voice, perplexed. Scout usually sleeps in well past 10am when he isn’t woken up by her or Link.

There’s another faint knock against the bathroom door.

“I’ll be out in a second, Scout. Okay?” She tries to sound cheerful. “I’ll come make you breakfast.”

“Aunt Mer gave me breakfast.”

She frowns, standing up and shutting the water off. Meredith was here? She doesn’t know how to respond to that exactly. She feels numb, and confused, and out of her head.

“Can I go ride bikes with Bailey?!” Scout’s question pulls her attention back.

“Wait, hold on a minute,” she mumbles, pulling a towel around her body and moving towards the door. She peeks her head out and meets her son’s eyes. “Just wait for me to come downstairs.”

His hyperactive body language isn’t boding well for Amelia’s request. He’s practically jumping up and down from where he stands in their bedroom. “Please. Pleaseee. Bailey has his bike and he’s already out there! Please!!”

“Okay, okay,” she groans. And Scout immediately takes off, running towards the stairs. “Wait! Hold on there, buddy!”

She exits the bathroom fully, and Scout stops in the doorway, looking at his Mom anxiously, like she’s about to be the gatekeeper of all of his fun.

“Scout listen to me,” Amelia says pointedly. “Just because Bailey has a big kid bike, doesn’t mean we’re changing anything about your bike-”

“Mommmm!” Scout interrupts her with an exaggerated whine. “I know I know, please!”

“Hey! I asked you to listen.” She waits for his impatient demeanor to calm a bit before she continues. “Scout, you have extra wheels for a reason, okay? We’re not taking them off until Dad has time to teach you-” Amelia trails off bemusedly as she watches her son nod along with her words, focus elsewhere, his eyes darting back to the stairs every few seconds. She recognizes the distant sound of Bailey’s laugh from the driveway outside.

“Okay, go.” She laughs. And Scout immediately runs off. “But stay in the backyard!”

_______

After about twenty minutes of pulling herself together, Amelia finally rounds the corner into the kitchen. Meredith turns around from where she’s cleaning up some of the mess from breakfast.

She raises her eyebrows at Amelia briefly. “Long time, no see,” Meredith says, somewhat sarcastically.

“You say that like it’s my fault,” Amelia defends herself. “The phone works both ways.”

Meredith frowns, but then nods at her words, in a very ‘you got me there’ type of way. “Well anyway, you look exhausted,” Meredith says blatantly.

“Thanks,” Amelia laughs, reaching for the coffee-maker. “I actually slept really well last night.”

“Something tells me you didn’t.”

This was their typical banter. Amelia actually feels comfort in the layers of sarcasm and utter boldness of their dynamic. It’s sort of refreshing. Compared to Maggie, who often tells Amelia what she wants to hear, Meredith doesn’t beat around the bush.

“You want to talk about it?” Meredith offers, somewhat flimsily.

Amelia grimaces. Because no. She doesn't want to talk about it. But, she knows she has to. It will all come out anyway. And to Meredith, of all people, who was queen of telling her to stuff her feelings in instead of dealing with them.

Amelia clicks the coffee-maker on and listens to the familiar sounds of the machine coming to life. She peeks out the kitchen window, a smile waving across her features as she watches Scout show off his training wheels to Bailey. She turns back to Meredith, who’s still looking at her blankly. Then she decides to rip the bandaid off, putting it all out there.

“I basically begged Link for sex last night.” She leans back against the counter nonchalantly. As if the situation she’s confessing to is completely normal. “And then…” She laughs at the absurdity of her own words. “When he rejected me….? I cried myself to sleep.”

Meredith’s expression doesn’t even falter.

“In his arms!” Amelia raises her voice incredulously, still laughing bitterly. “I should add that. I cried myself to sleep….in his arms.”

Silence fills the kitchen momentarily, until the distinct sound of the coffee-maker clicking off catches Amelia’s attention. She moves toward the cupboards, rummaging for a mug, before pouring herself a cup.

“It could be worse.” Meredith finally says, after Amelia takes her first sip.

“Ah, shit!” Amelia exclaims, burning her mouth on the hot beverage, almost breaking the mug with the force she sets it down with.

She takes a moment to gather herself, closing her eyes and nodding at Meredith’s words. Because she’s right. In the grand scheme of things, it could be much, much worse.

And in an almost ironic turn of events, her thoughts are interrupted by the agonizing sound of her son’s cry from the backyard.

Amelia’s eyes spring open and she glances at Meredith briefly before they are both taking off, sprinting outside.

She feels like she’s having an out-of-body experience as her senses adjust to everything that’s happening around her.

She sees Scout. Sprawled out on the driveway, a bike abandoned about 10 feet away.

She hears him. His scream of a sob. It rattles her eardrums and covers her body in chills.

And she hears Bailey, too. His panicked tone as he explains how ‘Scout just wanted to try it, auntie Amelia, he just wanted to try my bike for a minute!’

“Shh, Bailey, shh,” Meredith murmurs somewhere behind Amelia. “What happened?”

“The...the bike tipped over,” Bailey cries. “He just wanted to go fast, Mom. He just wanted a little push. I’m sorry!”

“Okay, okay. It’s okay,” she hears Meredith whisper to Bailey.

Amelia approaches Scout, and just by the positioning of the fall, she can already tell that things are at the point of much, much worse.

“Meredith,” she breathes, as she kneels on the cement of the driveway. She hovers over Scout, pushing his hair back and resting a hand on his hot cheek, murmuring to him that everything is going to be fine. She turns back to Meredith. “His, his arm….look at his arm. Look at the angle of his arm.”

“I’ll get the car.”

_______

The ER is crowded when they arrive and Meredith decides it’s best to take Bailey home before things get too chaotic. She reaches for Amelia’s hand and squeezes gently as they both watch the resident on call guide Scout into a wheelchair.

“Thanks for driving us,” Amelia whispers, glassy eyes still glued to her son as they begin walking inside.

They get situated in one of the trauma rooms and Amelia hovers over Scout, who has finally stopped crying.

“Mommy,” his voice is still strained from his previous sobs. “It hurts.”

“I know, baby, I know.” She can’t help the tears that spring to her own eyes as she runs her fingers through his hair gently. “But you’re so brave.”

An intern that Amelia doesn’t quite recognize walks into the room and she turns to him. “No,” she says, dismissively. “No, I told them to page Atticus Lincoln.”

“Uhhhh,” the intern looks around, confused. “Well, we did page him but-”

“Go find him,” Amelia interrupts. “On foot.”

The intern stares at her blankly.

“Now.”

The harshness of her tone has him turning on his feet instantly.

_______

“It looks like….the impact of the fall definitely caused a tear in his rotator cuff,” Link murmurs, as he examines his own son carefully. “His shoulder is dislocated. We’re going to have to….reset it.” Link outwardly cringes at the last thought.

Amelia sighs. She stands on the opposite side of the bed from Link. She can’t take her eyes off of Scout.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah, bud?” Link gently responds as finishes his examination.

“Did I break my arm?”

“No, no. Not quite.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah,” Link laughs, half-heartedly. “Yeah it is.”

“It doesn’t really hurt anymore.”

Amelia’s gaze snaps quickly to Link, out of concern. But Link’s tone provides an instant sense of calmness to the room.

“Well, that’s actually good,” he explains. “Because, you see, your arm isn’t broken. It would hurt a lot lot more if it was broken. It’s more like….your bone is in the wrong place.”

“And….you gonna….put it back where it goes?” Scout wonders out loud, causing both parents to smile despite their joint concern.

“Yeah, bud,” Link murmurs, watching as Amelia brings her own hand up, biting at her thumbnail anxiously. “We’re gonna put it back in the right place.”

“Mkay,” Scout murmurs quietly. “I’m tired now….” He blinks, eyes shifting between both parents on either side of the bed.

Amelia smiles sweetly, tears threatening to make another appearance. She gazes at Link.

“That’s okay, Scout,” Link whispers, eyes shifting from Amelia to his overtired five-year-old. “You can close your eyes….that’s actually better, while we wait….to not have him moving around much….” The last part is directed more towards Amelia, who nods solemnly at this information.

“What do you mean ‘while we wait’?” Amelia whispers, noticing how quickly Scout had drifted off.

Link sighs heavily. He moves towards one of the two plastic chairs in the corner of the trauma room and motions for her to join him.

Amelia bites her lip anxiously. The anticipation of sitting so closely to him, mixed in with the regret of her actions last night, causes her to panic. With the chaos of the morning, Amelia barely even had time to dwell on how their first conversation would go after last night. These weren’t the circumstances she imagined at all.

What immediately registers for her, despite her own nerves, is just how overwhelmed Link looks, too. And that revelation is what allows her to cross the room and take the seat next to him. Because despite what had happened between them, they were in this moment, processing together.

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” she murmurs as she sits down. “It all happened so fast….we just had to get here. I completely forgot to grab my phone-”

“Amelia, that’s not what I’m worried about,” Link interrupts, the tone of his strained voice perplexes Amelia and she turns to him, studying his face.

“What then?”

“I, uh….we’re waiting….because I paged Nico.”

Amelia just frowns. “You’re here now, though. I don’t understand why-”

“I can’t do it,” he says simply. Eyes glued to the floor as he zones out slightly. “I can’t be the one to pop his shoulder back in place.”

“You’re….” Amelia trails off, her eyebrows pulling together as she tries to understand. “You’re head of ortho….why would you not be the one to do this….”

“It’s gonna hurt like hell, Amelia!” Link’s voice raises harshly and they both turn to Scout, checking to see if he’s woken up from the slight outburst.

“Sorry…” Link murmurs, much quieter. “I can’t….I won’t let him associate that kind of pain with me. I won’t do it….”

Link’s getting worked up now and Amelia absentmindedly reaches forward, squeezing his knee. When she realizes what she’s done, she quickly pulls her hand away.

“Okay, I get it.”

Link finally looks at her, and for the first time Amelia sees the panic in his eyes. It mirrors her own.

“He’s going to be okay.” Amelia adds. And when she reaches for his knee this time, it’s not absentmindedly.

Link glances down, eyes focusing on her hand. He inhales deeply, and then hesitantly rests his own hand on top of hers, giving it a small squeeze.

The moment is interrupted when Nico walks into the room, and they quickly pull apart.

They both stand. And Amelia exhales shakily as she moves towards Scout, gently reaching forward to wake him up.

_______

“You did so good, baby,” Amelia murmurs, ruffling Scout’s hair as she once again feels her eyes sting with moisture. This time it’s out of gratitude.

“Do I get anything I want now?” Scout wonders, as Link and Nico carefully help Scout up from the bed.

Amelia laughs. Because she had promised that. When the panic set in just before Nico began the process of re-setting Scout’s arm. Scout had lost his cool completely. Breathing rapidly as his eyes darted between his parents in total fear.

‘I’ll get you anything you want after this’ Amelia had pleaded with him.

And Nico had stepped forward, resuming the task at hand.

‘Look at me Scout, look at me and scream as loud as you can. Don’t hold back, I want to hear it.’ Link had instructed.

“Cuz I know it.” Scout chimes in again. “I wanna ice cream sundae. With sprinkles.”

Amelia laughs again, reaching for the hand on his good side as they walk out of the trauma room and towards the ambulance bay. Scout’s injured arm now resting in a sling.

“I can make that happen,” Amelia smiles as they walk outside.

“No, dad too,” Scout whines, pulling his hand free from her grasp. Amelia frowns. “You both have to come!”

“Dad’s working, Scout,” She mutters, “Sorry, you’re stuck with just me.”

“Noooo,” he whines. And the realization dawns on Amelia that it must be closing in on late afternoon. This was Scout’s usual naptime. He was only going to get more irritable.

“Sorry, Scout,” she tries not to sound too defensive, attempting to hide the ego bruise developing at his sudden refusal to be with just her. “That’s just the way it is…”

“Then why's Daddy walking over here?”

“Huh?”

Link catches up with them a moment later. Jacket on. Holding his car keys.

“Hey! I wrapped up early. You guys probably need a ride home, right?” He looks at Amelia. He can’t quite determine the expression she gives back to him. Somewhere between hurt and frustrated.

He looks between the pair, perplexed.

“What’s up?” he mutters in question.

“We’re getting ice cream!” Scout excitedly announces.

“Oh?” Link trails off, glancing back at Amelia, whose appearance doesn’t at all match Scout’s enthusiasm.

She rolls her eyes.

“I can drop you guys off somewhere and pick you up?” Link offers quietly, muttering to Amelia.

“No, no!” Scout interrupts. “No, Dad! You have to come! You have to come, too!” He stomps his foot and Link almost wants to laugh at the impatience. He doesn’t laugh, though. He holds back at Amelia’s demeanor.

Scout looks up at Amelia, and she sighs, weighing her options.

“Okay, let’s just go,” she breathes, glancing at Link. Who frowns slightly at her. But she just nods her head, suddenly indifferent.

Scout squeals with excitement, taking off quickly towards the parking lot. And Link catches up with him. “Wait, buddy, Slow down! Try to keep that arm still.”

Amelia trails behind them a bit further back, mentally preparing herself. Because now that the major crisis of the day was resolved, there was suddenly way more room to process the events of last night. And what their new normal was, going forward.

#amelink #amelink fanfic #amelinkfic #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #amelia x link #greys anatomy fanfic #greys anatomy fic #grey's anatomy fanfic #grey's anatomy fic #my writing #meredith grey #nico kim

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well-lets-go-write · 3 years

Text

A grand ol’ time

Part 1

Rated: SFW - language

Word count: 4061

Hope ya enjoy.

(Y/N) an SOA for the BSAA has recently returned home from a grueling extensive mission in the jungles of South America. The mission was routine and went smoothly with no casualties, something rare for the BSAA. Her partner and long time friend Joseph were stuck in the office going over each individual report from the mission and compiling them for the derector, the night dragged on late into the early hours of the morning. Both Y/n and Joseph had called it a night when the motion sensitive lights flickered off for the umpteenth time, reminding them of the late hours and lack of people. Joseph left first after some convincing, tiredly trudging out to the elevator. Y/n let a long almost roaring yawn roll out with a large stretch before standing from her desk. Grabbing up the loose paperwork and scattered files, neatly stacking them together and tucking them under her arm Y/n turns on her heel and swiftly grabs up her overly large ‘purse’ before heading for the elevator at the end of the corridor.

Y/n had decided to head not to her apartment downtown, almost an hour drive away, but to the small spare apartment at the top floor of the BASS headquarters. There only to remind Y/n that she, like many others, is permanently married to her work. During the slow elevator ride up Y/n pondered giving up her apartment for living here, it would make things easier on her when she does get off time, but she quickly reminded herself of why she stopped using the spare apartment, her mind wandering back to him. Violently she shook her head of the thoughts, forcing them back for another time. Luckily the elevator came to a stop snapping Y/n of her self induced trance. The hall was dimly lit with small light fixtures mounted in between the other apartment doors. Y/n sighed again, the sight an all too familiar one, a reminder of better times from years past, but now a reminder of her endless loneliness.

Huffing in tired frustration Y/n made her way down the hall to the welcoming red door to her apartment. Rifling through her purse Y/n found her large obnoxious key ring, noting the amount had become ridiculous. It took her a good minute to locate the correct key for the door and deadbolt, a small gold key with the number 86 engraved into the grip, she examined it for a moment, running her calloused thumb over the number a few times, fondly remembering the day she got it, her eyes drifting to the matching key still hanging on the ring, a slightly larger key, silver with the letters C.R engraved into the metal. Another sigh forces its way out at the sight of it in her hand, knowing it shouldn’t be with her. A low growl leaves Y/n lips as she roughly jams the key into the locks and throws the door open, the force sending it into the wall with a slam. Y/n didn’t flinch as the sound echoed through the small apartment and out into the hall, instead welcoming the intrusive noise, welcoming anything really. With her foot she clumsily kicks her leg to close the door with another loud slam, almost falling to the floor in the same instant. Catching herself at the last moment on her brown leather recliner, doubling over the back into the seat of the cushion face first, her legs swinging over from the momentum flipping her out of the chair onto the floor.

“Yep.” Y/n commented aloud to herself with an extra popping of the ‘p’ before standing back up in front of her recliner. Y/n threw her purse onto the small loveseat across from her and the files down on the oak coffee table. The small sounds of her moving about her apartment filled the area with almost obnoxious echoes, the silence that clung to her was deafening, irritating her to her core. Y/n shook her head of the thought and moved to her bedroom, pulling out years old pajamas she’d forgotten she owned and headed for the adjoining bathroom.

The hot steaming water washed away her worries and frustrations, Y/n was finally able to let her muscles relax and sink into the water. She didn’t linger in the bath however, opting to get into bed as fast as she could. Lying there for hours staring up at the cracking popcorn ceiling, the desire to sleep gripped her mind, but the pent up energy was reaching its peak, now forcing her to stay awake. There in the dark of her bedroom, in the middle of the night she hears the smallest kock on her front door, a peculiar time for visitors was her first thought. If it had been any kind of adversary they wouldn’t have been so kind as to knock first.

Tired and sluggish Y/n stumble to the door, nearly tripping over the corner of the coffee table on her way. But outside the door was no one and nothing, nothing except a small green envelope with fancy raised gold letter reading her name. Stranger yet there was no evidence other than the envelope that anyone had been in the hall. Peaking out of the door she saw that there were no other envelopes left and the elevator was shut, along with the single door to the stairway. Locking every lock on the door Y/n flops down onto the obnoxiously large loveseat and examines the letter thoroughly before reading it. But there was nothing too strange about it. The letter read simply,

Dear Y/n,

You have been invited to the masquerade ball of the century. Please do join us for a night of anonymous celebration.

Rules. You must wear the colors given. No taking your mask off. Attendance is required.

We do hope you have fun. Please be prepared the night of June 25th.

Y/n initially paid no mind to the letter, believing it was nothing more than another prank. But her suspicions were quickly swayed by Joseph the next afternoon.

-------

Outside the cafeteria Y/n walked alongside Joseph down the many halls to their shared office. Y/n explaining the previous night's events, but her partner was quiet the whole way, this fact confused and frustrated her. “Why aren't you saying anything?” Frustrated, she roughly pulls the envelope and letter from her bag, the small parchment becoming even more folded and scrunched up in Y/n fist. “I have proof see.” Y/n barely got the sentence out before Joseph grabbed her wrists and the letter and pulled them into their office, Joseph gesturing to be quiet the whole time.

Nearly slamming the door shut Joseph throws his things onto his desk before retrieving an identical envelope and letter from inside his briefcase. The only difference was the name and color of the envelope, Joseph’s was an off navy blue with silver lettering. Y/n examined the letter the same as she did hers, and it was identical.

“What the fuck dose it mean ‘attendance is required’? Under the authority of who?” Y/n questioned. Her annoyance at the situation was growing. Joseph sat beside Y/n on the small office couch, a look of contemplation and pleading overtook him.

“Look it’s a weird thing the financial backers like to put on every few years, it’s mandatory that the invited SOA’s, Captines, and their lieutenants attend.” Joseph paused to survey the room a moment then whisper, “Technically we’re not supposed to be sharing this information.” The severity of the situation finally dawned on Y/n. She could only nod in response.

“What’s with the whole color thing?” She whispered out, her face contorted in confusion. Joseph looked over Y/n’s envelope.

“Easy, green and gold. Go with a green dress, the mask they provide will probably be gold.” Joseph explained while gesturing to his own envelope, "I'll be in some kind of blue and silver." Y/n though frustrated understood, but was more annoyed that from this point on they couldn't talk about it, the 25th nearing in only two days.

----------

Y/n during the evening had slipped out of the BSAA's perimeter and into the city. At first she was shocked by the changes the metropolis had undergone. Y/n was lost in the world of light. But eventually she found a small clothing store with beautiful red, black,and pink dresses on display that pulled her in. Y/n found a simple yet elegant emerald green dress with an evenest green lace wrapped deletitly around the bodice, the skirt was long loose and wavy. A simple guarantee she'd be able to move freely. Y/n stored the dress in a long black clothing bag before rushing back to the BSAA. She tried it on only once, and in spite of how she felt about this event, she felt pretty.

---------

When the night arrived Y/n felt nervous. Of what, she wasn’t sure, she knew she could always find Joseph, but it was something else, in her youth Y/n had never really participated in the norms of teens, so this is new territory. As she sat on the loveseat in her small apartment waiting for some mysterious weirdos to escort her to the ‘fundraiser’ she all but wished to be suddenly thrown into the middle of a war zone. But here she sat, dolled up to the best of her abilities and dressed to the nines waiting. Another surprise were the men who picked her up, dressed in well tailored tuxedos and full face covering white mouthless masks. Before she took a signal step out the door they handed her a beautiful white mask with gold trim and white gold jewels. Y/n got the hint and secured the mask before they left for the secret hall. The windows of the van they rode in were blacked out, and she was the only other in the vehicle with them. If she had not been reassured this was the norm, things would have gone very differently.

25 minutes later they had arrived at an underground parking garage, from there she was led to an elevator, a short ride later and Y/n was standing before a grand ballroom suited for royalty. The hall itself was at least four stories high, pillars supporting the ceiling were lined with lavish gold, chandeliers hanging to match the beauty of polished white marble and glittering gold. It was stunning. The hall was filled with attendees, beautiful dresses swaying together on the dance floor, groups of men huddling together in the far corners while the younger agents enjoyed the event with glasses in hand. The festivities were in full swing and Y/n had never felt more out of place, everything about this atmosphere was forigne to her. Hesitantly Y/n moved over to one of the pillars and watched on in awe at the pure, anonymous joy the countless others were partaking in. Many paired off couples were dancing rymithly to the somewhat dated music. Y/n was in a way envyus of their uncaring amusement. Finally able to gather her thoughts Y/n began to search the clumps of groups for Joseph.

But so far there was no sign of him, blue or silver were the only two words running through Y/n mind. When out of the corner of her eye the smallest reflection, a glint of chrome shining in the light caught her eye. To her left stood a broad shouldered man, tall weaning a navy blue suit, a dark metallic gray tie and an almost mirroring shining silver mask with a deep velvet blue trim. Y/n wasn’t positive if he was in fact Joseph, but all the identifiers they had discussed lined up with the man before her. Who was now eyeing Y/n with a matching smirk.

“Something wrong with my suit?” He asked Y/n while also successfully gaining her attention. Y/n couldn’t pinpoint his voice, but she was oddly calmed by it.

A bit flustered Y/n rushed out, “No. Not at all, y-you look good is what I mean.” If it wasn’t obvious before that Y/n was out of practice in social gatherings, it was now. The gentleman laughed a warm low laugh, his covered face lighting up, a smile growing over his lips.

“Thank you.” The man in blue stated first. “You look pretty good too.” He commented seconds after, sliding the flirtatious compliment in smoothly. Y/n thought her knees were going to buckle at the man's pleasant remark. She was able to stable herself on a small champagne table, but she overestimated her own weight and fell forward into the man's arms. Who gladly caught her, wrapping an arm around her waist and the other stabilizing her by the shoulder. "Fallin` for me already?" The man in blue asked coolie. Y/n was now a flustered mess, all the while still held securely in the looming man's arms.

She all but jumped from the man's hold, wiggling away, but not far. "Sorry about that, lost my footing there." She rushed out in a signal breath. Y/n was now searching for another distraction from this situation, but for some unknown reason she didn't want to leave this man in blue's side, she enjoyed talking to him. In spite of herself she commented, "Ya know this sorta thing ain't really my scene but I do see why some people would enjoy it." Y/n admitted, almost immediately regretting it.

But the man’s welcoming warm smile never faltered. “I’m right there with ya, especially with dancing.” He then admitted. The man scrunched up his nose causing the mask to shift up ever so slightly before awkwardly chuckling out, “But- uh, what is your scene then?” The question was innocent, but now it was his turn to be tongue tied. Y/n was at a loss for words, forgetting what she even did during her rare off time.

"Oh nothing special, I enjoy astronomy, especially violet stars and exoplanets. Actually they've made a recent discovery of an extraordinary exoplanet, it's very angelic in appearance." Y/n was now on a rumbling spree, space and the stars captured her soul years ago, and something about this man in blue caused her to feel so carefree, able to speak her mind, to imagine. "I sometimes dream of seeing them for myself." She commented finally.

The man in blue couldn't and didn't take his eyes off of her, even with her face hidden behind the doll-like mask he could see the passion and joy light up her whole being. In that small moment he could see her, smiling staring up into space, seeing things he could never imagine. But for him her eyes held the universe. Turning abruptly the man grabbed up two glasses of champagne, handing one to Y/n and sipping off the other. Y/n was apprehensive but gladly drank the single glass of champagne. Feeling the tension slowly dissipate, Y/n loosened up enough to keep her anxieties at bay. But the silver masked man interjected "I know someone else who also loves space. She used to tell me all about the celestial bodies." The man spoke fondly of this person, his eyes lighting up with a far off passionate memory.

"What happened to her?" Y/n asked assuming this woman was or had been lost during a past mission. But the man dispelled the thought with a wave of his hand.

"Nothing tragic." He paused, becoming lost in another memory, "I fucked up any relationship I might’ve had with her." He explained simply.

Y/n understood. simple mistakes imploding years old relationships. Hesitantly she placed a hand on the man's shoulder, "People are far more forgiving then you're letting yourself believe." He smiled at the thought.

"Sounds like something she would have said, but the thing is, I agree with her." The man paused and a far off lock overcame him, "I don't deserve to be forgiven" His demeanor changed, becoming curt about the topic. Suddenly becoming solum and detached. But Y/n wasn't accepting that. Grabbing his hand with her own, pulling him down to eye level.

"I won't accept that, everyone deserves another chance." Y/n spoke proudly, but her confidence was swayed when the man suddenly pulled back, but a ghost of a smile played on his lips.

Another strange look overcame him, a look of sudden realization and understanding. "You sound a lot like her. But you wouldn't be saying this if you knew what I did." He explained in a sudden but painad manner.

"What did you do?" Y/n asked, her body language and tone now matching his. The man turned away for a moment contemplating what to say.

"I left them when they needed me most, I ran to the arms of another woman in the guise of being in love, when in reality I was scared to fall for her and in the end I hurt her and a once close friend of mine. She hasn't spoken to me since." The man in blue explained woefully, his mind and heart burdened by this. Y/n clearly saw this, but she stood firm in her opinion.

Returning her hand to his shoulder a gesture of reassurance, "If it makes you feel any better I'm sorta in the same boat." Y/n was hesitant to share, but she wanted clouser all the same.

"How do ya mean?" He questioned in return. Y/n cupped both of her hands together over her chest, a clear sign that she was apprehensive, but following a long sigh she explained.

"Well I sorta have this odd rivalry with another agent, and at some point we became friends," Y/n paused to inhale a shaky breath, "Then I fell in love with him." To Y/n the sentence couldn't be voiced fast enough, the shaky breath coming out rushed, a heavy weight resting on Y/n's heart. “When I finally worked up the courage to tell him, he fell in love with someone else." Now it felt as if it was taking all of her strength not to cry. The man in blue could feel this and in the softest voice he could muster reassured her.

“He’ll come around, they always do.” Pausing the man pulled away to blatantly look Y/n over, “And if not, I’d say there's lots of people who want you.” The smallest bit of pink was dusting the man’s cheeks, but his confidence roars more than his words, the thought causing Y/n to blush furiously. But before Y/n could mutter a replay of objection he cut in another surprise. “Would you like to dance?”

This nearly floored Y/n, “Didn’t you say, ‘you don’t dance’?” She then questioned immediately after. With another wavy of his hand he dispelled the idea.

“Yes, but I want to dance with you, isn’t that worth the exception?” He remarked cooly. Flustered Y/n accepted his hand as he began to lead them to the dance floor.

But Y/n interjected, “Do you even know how to dance?” The question came off with far more nervous energy then she would have preferred. But as if on cue when the man in blue pulled Y/n flush to his chest a personal favorite song came on.

I am not the only traveler

Who has not repaid his debt

I've been searching for a trail to follow again

Take me back to the night we met

It had been well over a year since she heard this song last, and it was with him. Just the two of them lost in the colors of the setting sun atop the roof of the BSAA headquarters, then and there when they held each other close and swayed to the music encaptivating them. The last night she spoke to him, the last time she lingered in the feelings of love and happiness.

Now she stands here with another, slowly swaying to the same music, her mind losing itself to the once pleasant memory. But the man in blue pulled her back to the here and now by twirling her out around then back in, now with her back flush against his front.

And then I can tell myself

What the hell I'm supposed to do

And then I can tell myself

Not to ride along with you

The hot breath kissing the back of her neck, the man in blue was quietly singing along, singing just for Y/n. At first she believed she was imagining his voice, imagining she was back in that moment again. The silver masked man spun her back out, but then pulled her close, now mask to mask he was singing to her all the while staring into her deep e/c eyes.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Tears threatened to fall from Y/n eyes, this just couldn’t be real. And yet there she was dancing with the man in blue, spinning and swaying to a rhythm only her and another soul could know.

When the night was full of terrors

Gently, as they moved with the music, becoming lost to the world around them, the man in blue raised his hand to softly cup Y/n cheek.

And your eyes were filled with tears

Without lifting the mask he swiped his thumb over her teary cheek before gently gliding down her face and neck, resting atop her shoulder. Still the two move as one, dancing in a round all over the ballroom, earning gawking expressions and looks of awe from other women.

When you had not touched me yet

Oh, take me back to the night we met

Softly he grabbed her hand and moved it to rest above his heart, his voice growing louder as he sang on to her.

I had all and then most of you

Some and now none of you

Take me back to the night we met

I don't know what I'm supposed to do

Haunted by the ghost of you

Take me back to the night we met

Y/n couldn’t form words, she couldn’t only follow his lead and time, but when the song came to an end she was dipped briefly and suddenly before being pulled eye to eye again. Deep chocolate eyes stared into her, eyes she’d never forget.

“Chris.”

(End of part 1)

#My writing #fanfic #fanfiction #oneshot #resident evil #chris redfield x reader

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dwaynepride · 4 years

Text

baby, it’s cold outside

summary: a snowstorm would put a damper on most people’s vacations. but you, pride, and gibbs find a way to make the most of it.

words: 9,122

warnings: smut, PWP, female reader, light cumplay, slight OOC

tags: @stanathanxoox @pageofultron @fairytale07 @jrenn10 @f4nboi @purplestarsr5 @ladyzombiielove @littlemiss3ma @minikate--24-05 @consultingdoctorwholock @6adb0y @thegoodlonelydalek @dressed-up-just-like-z1ggy @ms-allenbrown @ikbenplant @dylpickles1267 @diaryofafan17 @specialagentlokitty @starryrevelations @thebeckyjolene

author’s note: it’s finally here!! thank you all for your patience and support while i finished this monster of a fic, and i really hope it lives up to the hype

Red and orange flames, small as they were, flickered from the charred remains of the fire that Gibbs had started upon arrival. And you were sitting as close to the fireplace as you could, without the risk of going up in flames. The heat it provided was a necessity to the frigid cold in the rest of the cabin.

Even the cup of coffee gripped in your hands, which had once been a lifesaver, was starting to lose its heat.

It was difficult to believe that, just last week, you and Pride were excited for this vacation. Coming up to Virginia for a weekend of solitude in the woods. Three old friends enjoying each other’s company; reflecting on old times and taking the much needed time away from the stress of work. It’s been much too long since the three of you have had actual time together.

That was before a snowstorm rolled in the night before. Froze up half the state.

You set the coffee mug aside, blowing into your numb fingers. Just as you were starting to mentally complain about the lack of a good fire, the door to Jethro’s cabin was kicked open. He and Dwayne stumble inside, snow clinging to their clothes, arms full of wood. The wind is loud and bitterly cold and blows in a fresh icy breeze before Pride kicks the door shut behind him, and both men drop their loads by the door.

Though, you were keenly aware that the firewood they’d collected wouldn’t last long. Not with how cold it is. “That’s all you got?” You ask them, eyeing the logs before looking to Gibbs.

“Snow started coming sooner than we thought. We’ll just have to make it last,” he answers simply while toeing off his soaked boots.

“Will it be enough?”

“Hopefully.”

Hopefully?

You huff at his answer, but your attention wavers away from Gibbs picking out the driest logs of the bunch to look at Pride, who had plopped down next to you by the fire. He scoots closer to the last lickings of the flames, hands reaching out in hopes of warming them up. And it occurs to you that the man has lived in Louisiana his entire life. He’s traded swamps for snow, and the weather must be killing him.

So you move a little closer until your shoulder nudges his. And when Pride glances over, you offer a little smirk. “You okay?”

He lets out a shivery exhale, mimicking your smile. “Cold,” Dwayne answers simply. His shaky voice proves that.

There’s still snowflakes clinging to his hair, which you reach up and brush away before motioning toward the bathroom. “You might wanna change into something drier. You’ll catch your death.”

Dwayne’s reluctant to leave the warmth of the fire, but he knows you’re right. He can feel his clothes sticking to his numb skin, further sapping away his own body heat. So, with another shivering sigh, Pride stands, grabs his bag, and quickly enters the bathroom to change.

You turn back to the flickering flames in the fireplace - happy, at least, that the two men were able to bring back some amount of wood for the duration of the snowstorm. In the silence, you can heard the wind pick up outside. It’ll probably get stronger. The walls of the cabin may creak, and you’ll be wishing you were somewhere much warmer.

A tap on your shoulder brings you out of your thoughts. Glancing up, you meet eyes with Gibbs, who’s handing you a mug. That’s when you show him yours. “I got coffee,” you tell him. And you leave out the fact that it’s lukewarm.

“It’s not coffee.”

He gives no other explanation, only motions the mug closer until curiosity prompts you to take it. The contents are hard to make out in the lowlight, so taking a sip is the only way to find out what it is. The taste of the mystery liquid burns and you didn’t expect just how strong it’ll be; strong enough to make you gag and glance over your shoulder to Gibbs as he chuckles and takes a seat beside you. “What the hell is this?”

“Whiskey,” he answers simply. “Found it in the cupboard. It’ll help keep you warm.”

Gibbs takes a sip from his own mug, and there’s no hint that the strong whiskey affects him in any way. So you scoff. “I got my coffee. And the fire,” you tell him. Though, his eyes don’t leave the orange light. Gibbs simply shrugs, and you end up taking another sip of the whiskey.

Pride comes out of the bathroom moments later, looking much more comfortable in a dry pair of jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. He thanks Gibbs when the Marine hands him a mug and, like you, Pride’s nose wrinkles harshly when he gets a taste of the whiskey. The sight makes you smirk before turning back to the fire.

A comfortable silence settles between the three of you. All huddled around the fire, quietly sipping at the harsh liquor and listening to the groan of the wind outside. It reminds you why you’d been so excited to take this trip; the moment reminds you of old times. Sure, you’re all older now. More worn out. Been through hell and back so many times and it’s left you all scarred. But this was like better times, and the sentiment of it all brings a soft smile to your face.

It takes Pride all but a few seconds to notice, and his eyes narrow curiously. “What’chu smilin’ at?” He asks, voice much more lively than it was just minutes ago.

You shrug at him, both hands clutching the whiskey mug tightly. “Nothing. I’m just glad we’re here. Even if we’re snowed in and facing hypothermia.” you answer, playful eyes glancing over when both men start laughing.

Then the night devolves into nostalgia. Bringing up old cases and old memories that haven’t seen the light of day in years.

Remembering Pride’s first winter in Virginia - when he fell into a snowbank and had a cold for damn near two weeks.

Remembering when Gibbs had a pistol leveled at his crotch by a very angry woman because she didn’t appreciate his little joke about blondes.

Despite the nip in the air, Gibbs was right; the whiskey was warming you right up. Made your face blush to chase away the numbness of your nose. Plus, it made your head light in a way that had the three of you laughing your asses off. Even Gibbs had a dopey grin on his face.

Time passed damn quickly. It was Pride who settled down first; his face squished against his pillows, which thankfully muffled his soft snores. And you follow not long after, sighing once you hit the middle bedroll. Gibbs was the last to go, after throwing in another log so the fire doesn’t go out while you slept.

The three of you had decided to sleep close together, by the fire. Straying too far would mean waking up shivering, and the warm glowing light was too good to leave. Still, even on your bedroll with two grown men sleeping on either side, it’s pretty chilly. You have to pull the blankets up to your chin and curl up into yourself, wondering how you’ll get to sleep when it’s so cold. But eventually, it’s the whiskey that puts you to sleep.

Along with the snores of the men beside you.

The next time you open your eyes, it’s considerably darker.

But that was only the second thing you noticed. The first was the fierce, bone-chilling cold that cut right through your blanket. You wouldn’t have been surprised if the frigid air is what pulled you from your slumber. Instantly, you let out a shaky exhale, breathing into your fingers so they weren’t so numb.

Your warm breath alleviates the numbness for just a moment, but it gives you a chance to focus on the sounds bouncing off the wooden walls of the cabin. Shuffling around and frantic whispers. Whispers that you recognize as belonging to your old friends - Pride and Gibbs were awake, as well. And it sounds like they’ve been for a while; Gibbs’ hushed voice rises a little in frustration, while Pride’s stays low. Shushing him before he can wake you.

Despite the little warmth that the blanket provides, you pull your face away from the shelter. It’s propped up on the pillow, squinting through the darkness toward the hushed whispers. And you quickly find out why Gibbs sounds so frustrated; the fire had gone out during the night. Burned right through the wood he set in there and left faint embers behind.

Gibbs and Pride were trying to cultivate those embers with more wood. Trying to grow a new fire to chase away the cold, but it doesn’t seem like they’re succeeding.

With a huff, Gibbs tosses his old lighter on the floor and glances to your bedroll. Likely to check if you’re still asleep, but he sees your groggy eyes blink at him questioningly. He huffs again. “Yeah, I know it’s cold. We’re getting the fire started up again.”

Pride’s head whips up, blinking to Gibbs before noticing you’re awake. Even in the dark, you can see his hands clenching and unclenching. And it reminds you of your own numbed extremities. “Well, hurry up. I can’t feel my hands,” you respond, sinking back into the warmer shelter of your blanket.

Gibbs just grumbles something, but he remains by the fireplace while Pride returns to his bedroll next to yours. With him much closer, you can see his breath lightly billowing, reflecting the pale moonlight. It was fucking cold. “Hey,” he greets lightly.

“Hey.”

He’s quiet for just a moment, sitting on his bedroll before shrugging his broad shoulders. “Ya know, until the fire’s back up, you outta use my blanket,” Pride says. And just as the sentence ends, he’s tugging the fleece cover from his bed to yours.

It covers your legs, and honestly, the thought of having an extra layer was tempting.

But not tempting enough to fall back asleep to the thought of Dwayne freezing his ass off in a dark cabin. Despite the chill in the air, you sit up and toss his blanket back at him. “No, you need it,” you tell him firmly.

Dwayne tries to give it back. “Oh, I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not stealing your blanket, Dwayne.”

“It ain’t stealing if I’m handing it over.”

“Quit it. We’ll all need our blankets,” Gibbs cuts in. And when the two of you look over, the Marine is moving back to his bed. There’s a small fire going, thankfully. But not enough to give off any real warmth or light. “It’ll still be a little while until the fire’s back up.”

He’s moving back under his covers, seemingly unaffected by the bitter cold, but you can also see his breath. Notice how his nose and cheeks are just a little more pink than usual. And beside you, Dwayne shudders and exhales into his numbed fingers. It prompts an idea - perhaps a little silly, but damn better than freezing all by yourself. “We should share blankets,” you blurt out.

From his bedroll, Gibbs turns his head and squints at you. “What?”

“We’d be warmer. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to try to fall asleep when I’m shivering cold.”

“I agree,” Pride chimes in. Though, judging by the shudder in his voice, he’d be down for just about anything that would provide some warmth. “Sharin’ body heat and all that.”

Gibbs doesn’t reply. You barely make out his expression, with only the faint moon and firelight to see him by. But he must be thinking it over, so you just have to nudge him a bit more. “What? Afraid to share blankets with two of your oldest friends?” You ask him teasingly. Then you glance back to Pride, whose eyes are crinkled with amusement.

The teasing worked, evidently. Gibbs breaks his silence with a cross huff, disbelieving that you got to him too easily. But, he concedes - you do know him pretty damn well.

He pushes his bedroll over until it connects with yours, and Dwayne does the same. And with that, the three of you maneuver the precious blankets until they’re spread out to cover each person. In the end, you’re basically all huddled in a big blanket pile, with Gibbs’ shoulder pressing against your spine and your knees touching Pride’s.

And yeah, at first, it’s a bit awkward. You’re facing Dwayne and the only way to quit the eye contact is to close your eyes and push your face into the pillow. And you’ve gotta be careful how you move, lest you press your ass back against Gibbs.

But despite the awkwardness, you’re already getting much warmer than you would’ve been sleeping alone. With the whiskey still swimming in your system, and the body heat of two grown men, you’re quickly growing groggy and heading back towards sleep. Though, Gibbs mumbles something from behind, low and deep, that makes you smile into the pillow:

“Something tells me you got the sweeter end of this deal.”

The next time you’re pulled from sleep, it’s not cold.

On the contrary, you’re almost hot.

Other than the snores of the two men beside you, the cabin is silent. The storm outside has calmed down, in comparison to earlier. But wind and ice still beat against the windows and makes you thankful for the warm glow of the fire.

But it doesn’t take you long at all to realize that it isn’t the fire that’s making you so damn hot. Yeah, you feel its heat, but it isn’t as all-encompassing as the big, solid body pressing against your back. The muscled arm around your waist keeps you close, and if it hadn’t been for the knowledge that your head is resting against Gibbs’ shoulder, you’d have to concentrate damn hard on which of the men was currently cuddling up to you.

Jethro’s earthy scent was all you could smell, but it was Dwayne’s strong heartbeat that you felt beating against your back.

Somehow, even while laying down, you felt a little lightheaded. Because it doesn’t take long for your body to tell you that this feels damn good.

You think about moving. Shuffling just out of Dwayne’s grasp, but with he and Gibbs so close, would you wake them? Could you even move? While you’re strategizing, Pride’s snores are interrupted by a soft sigh that billows your hair slightly. Then he hums, and his arm moves up from your hip, and the movement makes your head go blank. His hand is dangerously nestled under your chest.

To make matters worse, his body shifts to get more comfortable. It wouldn’t have even been so bad, but his hips roll just a little. Barely even noticeable, but through the intense heat and the blurred lines, you could feel something press against your ass. Half-hard. Trapped in denim.

Some small part of you was mortified. Embarrassed, because this was your close friend and if Pride were awake, he’d be blushing and apologizing as if this were all his fault and then Gibbs would find out, too.

But the deep, hot wave of arousal makes it difficult to care about the embarrassment. C’mon, this was Dwayne Pride. Broad-shouldered agent of The Big Easy. You’d have to be blind not to notice his handsome laugh lines or muscled body and not think about them from time to time over the years of your friendship.

Even still, he was a friend. That’s all he’s ever been.

So, carefully, you pull your legs up closer to your chest. Use your arms to drag your body just a couple inches away from Dwayne. Away from his heat and his body and the little noises he makes every time you move against him.

Away from him, and towards Gibbs.

You hadn’t even noticed how close you were getting to the Marine until he sighed in his sleep. The messy silver hair on his head reflects the orange firelight - turns it amber, but you barely notice because Gibbs smells like whiskey and lumber and it becomes painfully obvious you’re stuck between a handsome rock and a gorgeous hard place.

Gibbs almost pulls you in, as if he has his own gravity. But you’re able to shift back with an unsteady breath. What to do....what to do.....

The sleep and the last lickings of the whiskey has your mind running at a snail’s pace. Unable to just decide on a single course of action that doesn’t involve cuddling up to either Gibbs or Pride. But that option is taken away from you when Dwayne’s breathing starts picking up.

All your moving around must’ve woken him. The arm he has resting on your flank, unfortunately, doesn’t pull away. Only half-awake, evidently, but his hips do that light roll again. The gentle grin of his hips against your ass prompts a moan from Dwayne. Right in your fucking ear and the sound goes right between your legs and you almost can’t stop yourself from rubbing your thighs together because as fucked as this situation is, he sounds so good.

Though, that brief moment of arousal is over quickly. Because from behind, you feel Dwayne’s muscles twitch and tighten up. Hear his breath lodge in his throat, and you know he’s finally woken up enough to realize what’s going on.

Is he in shock? Is he mad that you didn’t do enough to separate the two of you?

The questions linger in your mind until curiosity forces your head to turn. Eyes carefully peering over your shoulder, and they instantly meet Pride’s wide, green, terrified gaze. Blurry with sleep, but still clear with understanding. “I, uh-” he mumbles out, voice hoarse and choked back. “Sorry.”

Simple. Straight-forward. Maybe if he pulls away now, the two of you can wake up in the morning and pretend this never happened.

His arm starts retreating. His body shifts so Dwayne can turn around and try to go back to sleep facing the other side of the cabin.

“Don’t be.”

That makes him freeze. Hand now settled on your hip and unmoving.

The seconds that pass during this time feel like minutes. Dwayne’s eyes blink once at your two surprising words. Confusion was the first emotion that flickered in his gaze before another one followed it. Something darker and hotter and you readily fall into the smoldering look in his eyes because it’s just so damn easy to.

You both are leaning toward each other in a heartbeat. Lips crashing together in a clumsy first kiss but neither of you care because it just feels good. Dwayne lets out a small noise in the back of his throat and you have to stop yourself from gasping against his lips. It’s hot and passionate and needy because your head is swimming in heat and, judging by the light rocks of his hips, Dwayne is damn horny.

His hand squeezes your hip, wanting to move it under the blanket and touch your warm, soft skin - and you want him to. Need to feel the calloused skin of his palm more than you’ve ever needed anything.

So you flipped on your back (carefully, to not wake Gibbs) and tangled your fingers in his hair to pull Dwayne in closer. The change in position is all the permission he needs; his hands all but fumble to push past the thick blanket until he finally just throws it off you to give himself the room.

Your hips arch upward. Legs spread just a little. Pride’s hand reaches the waistband of your jeans, and as he starts to unbuckle it, there’s a brief moment of clarity. Probably brought upon by the noise of Gibbs sighing in his sleep right next to you.

The sound makes you think about what’s to come. About Dwayne tugging your jeans down. Kissing you hard while fucking you with his fingers and making you cum...all while Gibbs is quite literally right there.

And it would have been a reality, if Dwayne were able to get your belt unbuckled.

His soft, frustrated swearing draws your attention away from the sleeping Marine. Dwayne’s attempts at undoing your belt with a single hand aren’t going so well, and despite the need, you find yourself laughing quietly.

He notices. “What the hell kinda belt is this?” Dwayne whispers loudly.

“The normal kind.”

“You sure? I can get the normal kind.”

His raspy, annoyed complaints keep the amused smile plastered on your face. And your fingers lightly comb through his hair. “Want some help?” You offer lowly.

Pride’s head shakes once. “Nah. I got it.”

“I’m not really in the mood for waiting, Dwayne.”

“Trust me, sweetheart, neither am I.”

“Can you two bozos be any louder?”‘

In an instant, Dwayne’s hand stops its attempts at opening your belt. A breath stuck itself in your throat, threatening to completely cut off your breathing but in that moment, you thought that might be preferable to facing Gibbs, like this.

Regardless, your eyes finally flicker sideways. Part of you was terrified of looking up and seeing disgust in the Marine’s gaze. But seeing his bleary eyes and wild bedhead did nothing to calm your nerves. Serves you right for thinking you’d be able to tell how Gibbs is feeling so easily.

Dwayne’s hand is instantly pulled away from your half-open belt, leaning back into his own bedroll as Gibbs slowly brings himself up to lean on his elbows. And you’re frozen there; laying on your back and watching as he looks down and seems to inspect you. The usual icy-blue of his eyes is much darker, despite the golden firelight. Narrowed and unreadable and so, so different than the open door of raw emotion that were Dwayne’s eyes.

Gibbs gives a small tilt of his head before glancing up to his old friend. And to your utter shock, he fucking smirks. The devious, mischievous little smirk that you’ve never trusted before in your life. “Nah, you need some help, King,” is the only thing he says. Voice hoarse and deep with sleep and sends an involuntary shiver down your spine.

You don’t see the perplexed, and defensive, look on Pride’s face.

Instead, your eyes are all focused on Gibbs and the hand that he brings to your belt. There’s ample time to move away or find the words to speak out, but you just stare at his hand. His big, muscled, scarred hand that reaches your belt and has it open in a fraction of the time that Dwayne did.

Beside you, Pride gives a light huff. But you can’t will yourself to look at him. Gibbs and his hand and his eyes are much too captivating, in the moment. They lock onto yours and keep the connection, even as Gibbs pops the button of your jeans, pulls the zipper, and simply lets his fingertips graze the skin below your navel.

In reaction, your hips shift upward. Not so much the raw, visceral arch of your hips that Dwayne elicited, but its enough of a sign that prompts Gibbs to know what you need from him.

He’s merciful. Gibbs pushes his fingers past the waistband of your jeans. Though, your underwear serves as a barrier between you and his fingers. Even still, the friction and the pressure is enough to make you whimper. To instantly clasp Pride’s arm because it’s the closest thing and if you didn’t hold onto something, you’d start grinding against his hand - and you didn’t want to give Gibbs that satisfaction.

But it gets so much harder to keep from keening up once he starts moving his hand up and down, even curling his fingers just a little. Teasing you. Making you want him and if that bastard knows how to do anything, it’s how to get under people’s skin.

Your fingernails dig into Pride’s arm when you finally whimper out Jethro’s name.

The small sound has Gibbs leaning in a little closer. Arousal flickers in his eyes, brighter than even the orange flames in the fireplace because it’s so raw and real and for you. “Are you sure?” Gibbs prompts lowly, his voice rough. “Seems like you wanted King just a minute ago.” At that, his eyes move up to his friend.

Pride had been motionless, admittedly frozen and not quite knowing what he should do. His cock is still hard and pressing against the zipper of his jeans; that much hasn’t changed. In fact, seeing you so desperate has only turned him on that much more.

But Gibbs and his words surprised him. He’s torn - there’s nothing he’d rather do than climb over you and continue where you’d left off. But if you decided you’d rather fuck Gibbs, then Dwayne will just have to accept that. He’s not sure how, but he’ll get over it.

Pride leans away, almost as if he’s trying to pull himself out of the picture. But the hand you have gripping his arm tightens to keep him from straying too far.

“Both. Both of you.”

You’re looking at him, now. Eyes half-open and hazy. Chest panting and hair all astray and looking damn gorgeous.

But even the picture you present doesn’t stop both men from looking shocked. They both were expecting you to choose one or the other, but both? A third option had never crossed their minds.

Had the circumstances been different, they might’ve thought a bit more logically about this. But neither man was so keen to ignore your breathy pleas. Pride was panting, too. And Gibbs felt that familiar stirring in the pit of his stomach that only got worse when your hips started moving in tandem with his fingers.

So even if Gibbs is the one with his hand down your pants, Pride is the first to truly act.

He’s leaning back in, resuming the hot kisses. But this time, you’re so much more hot and needy and wound up, you’re moaning into his mouth. Opening your lips to taste more of Dwayne while your thighs squeeze together, hoping to just selfishly ride Gibbs’ hand.

He has to pry your legs apart to pull his hand free

Your body instantly reacts to the loss of his touch, huffing into Dwayne’s mouth and wishing you could break the kiss to yell at him - even though Gibbs is currently tugging your trousers down your legs and throwing them off somewhere in the darkness of the cabin.

It’s fucking cold, even through the rush of heat that leaves you gasping.

Dwayne’s hand is equally cold when it ventures up your shirt.

But really, it’s the chill of Jethro’s fingers as they trail up your inner thigh that really makes you shiver.

Or maybe it’s not at all the cold that elicits the shiver. Maybe it’s the realization that this isn’t some fucked up dream you’re having. That Gibbs and Pride really are seeing and touching so much of you, and it’s overwhelming. They’re two of your oldest friends, and yet, it was scarily easy to forget all that for a little while and just revel in their attention.

Like when Dwayne finally pushes your shirt up, revealing your belly and breasts that seem to glow like embers in the firelight. His breath is hot against the goosebumps. “You’re damn beautiful, honey,” Dwayne mumbles. It’s the first time he’s spoken in a while, and he sounds absolutely wrecked.

You want to hear more of that crackly voice, but his lips are creating a trail of kisses up your belly, across your sternum and into the valley of your breasts. The sensation is hot and electrifying and you tangle your fingers in his hair to keep him there.

Though, unfortunately for him, Gibbs once again steals the show.

Because this time, he doesn’t tease. Doesn’t make you seek out the pleasure: he readily gives it. Sinks his middle finger in with one fluid motion, and grinds the heel of his hand against you until your nails dig into Dwayne’s scalp with a harsh gasp.

Dwayne makes some kind of noise to the pain - you can feel the vibration, but he keeps on course.

“Dwayne’s right, ya know,” Gibbs comments. And from above, you can clearly see the light smirk playing on his lips. “You do look beautiful - especially right now.”

Cocky bastard.

Your mouth drops open, and you’re intent on telling him just that. But it seems like Pride and Gibbs are somehow working together. As if they know what the other is doing. Because in the same moment that Jethro curls his finger, Dwayne reaches his goal. His mouth is hot and wet, latching onto your nipple and flicking his tongue over the hard bud and the combination of the two makes your head tilt back in a loud, drawn-out moan.

As if Dwayne’s mouth weren’t enough stimulation, Gibbs thinks it’s a good idea to push in a second finger. It’s a tight, delicious stretch; damn near knocks the wind out of you. And as he pumps his fingers slowly, your hips start to writhe, seeking the friction you need to cum because it’s already so damn close.

Pride can hear your hard, panting breath. Can feel it against his hair and under his lips.

And it only gets harder and louder as time passes. Whatever Gibbs is doing, however he’s pleasuring you, must be fucking working. Because just seconds after he pulls off the first breast to pay attention to the second, your moans are so much louder. More desperate and keening and Dwayne can feel your body tighten up beneath him and it all makes him unbearably hard.

Your climax passes, and once your body goes slack, that’s when Pride lifts his head. His eyes are instantly locked on your face; cheeks pink in your exhilaration, hair mussed up and lips parted as you pant hard. And he wants you to lift your head to look at him. Pride wants to see that dazed look in your eye.

But he leaves you to rest. Presses a kiss to your heaving sternum, and then makes a new trail of wet kisses back down your body.

Pride can feel your muscles quiver, but Gibbs can see it.

Especially when he pulls his fingers free, and your body seems to miss them instantly. Your thighs squeeze together and you whimper softly, but Gibbs is far from done.

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

Slowly, your eyes blink open. Jethro is leaning into view, blue eyes blown dark and his own lips are parted and panting because he’s just as turned on as Pride is (if the hurried kisses on your hips and thighs are anything to go by).

Gibbs watches you for a moment. Takes in your tired, but wanting, expression before he finally came in for a kiss. And his kisses are so different than Dwayne’s. Where his were sweet and allowed you to explore him, Jethro simply takes initiative and makes you keep up with him. Though, maybe you can blame his demanding lips on that fact that you just came hard on his fingers - but it’s enough to make your toes curl nonetheless.

His tongue teased your lips open, and just as you’re allowed a taste of him, Gibbs pulls away. His hot breath over your mouth, but before you could initiate another dizzying kiss, his fingers brush over your lips. Purposeful and wet, your mouth instinctively drops open. Gibbs slides them in, pressing down against your tongue, and you taste yourself between two thick fingers.

A moan rose from you, and as your tongue starts swirling between his fingers, his eyes go darker. His chest inflates in his careful breath to keep control.

You want to push him further. Make him lose control the way he did to you. But the feeling of two large hands pushing apart your thighs breaks the spell. In the time it takes for Jethro to pull his fingers free, slick in your saliva, those hands are replaced with two broad shoulders. Keeping your thighs apart while Dwayne gets himself comfortable, and the sensation of him there makes you gasp.

Your body is still receptive from the treatment of Jethro’s fingers; buzzing and sensitive and it only heightened the heat of Pride’s kisses across your inner thighs. It’s a light flutter against your skin, and you’re not positive if it’s his lips or the cold cabin air that gives you such vicious goosebumps. Maybe a little bit of both.

Either way, you know you’d just about die if Dwayne holds off on touching you.

Breaking your gaze from Gibbs, you look down to the man knelt between your knees - eyes turning a dark mossy green in the firelight, and it reflects off his messy hair. The contrast of light makes the sharp angles of his face pop.

The sight of Dwayne looking so raw, you can’t help but stare for a moment. But only a moment, because as soon as he pushes in two long fingers, your head tilts back again. Moaning out in the dark cabin and unwittingly giving Gibbs the perfect opportunity to suck a hickey into your neck.

Fuck it, let him. You’re much more interested in how Pride’s fingers are slowly pumping in and out.

Pleased with your reaction, you’re finally granted his mouth.

“Oh my fucking god, Dwayne,” you cry out, eyes screwed shut tight.

You can’t help it; his tongue is doing some magical things. Enough to make your back arch, toes curl, hips tilt up because the thing you need most in the world is to ride his face into another spectacular climax. Your fingers tangle into Dwayne’s hair, keeping him in place - as if he’d pull away when your noises are this fucking beautiful.

Gibbs doesn’t allow you to fall into the abyss that is Dwayne’s talented tongue. With a new hickey successfully inked into your skin, his lips move up to your ear, breath hot and hard as he whispers, “You the only one who’s gonna have all the fun?”

Your eyes blink open at his question. He should know you don’t have nearly enough brainpower for ask-and-tell. But seeing that familiar cocky look on his face, you figure it’s a question that doesn’t need an answer. Thank God.

Still, you can’t suss out what he meant. So you watch him, confused, until your eyes drop down the length of his body. And there it is; Jethro is using a single hand to undo his belt and jeans. Even from here, in the lowlight of the fire, you can see the hard outline of his cock press against the denim.

Instantly, your mouth waters just a bit. You blame it on the mental image of sucking Jethro off; of him fucking your mouth.

A noise comes up, somewhere between a moan and a whimper and it’s impossible to figure out the cause; Dwayne thrusting his fingers a little harder, or Gibbs coming up to his knees and crawling closer. Either way, you’re not thinking too hard about that. Not thinking too hard about anything other than pushing yourself up to your elbows and leaning towards Gibbs.

Your tongue comes out to wet your lips, and that only makes the Marine give a short chuckle. “Gonna be a good girl? You’ve been doing an awful lot of taking, sweetheart. Not doing a whole lot of giving.” he says in a rough voice.

“Then shut the fuck up and let me give,” you respond. And even to your ears, the words were much more solid and confident than you felt.

In reality, you should’ve sounded shaky and whiny and downright filthy. Because as your hand comes up to rest on his hip, helping Gibbs tug down his jeans, you want nothing more than to suck him off. To find out how he tastes and how he how he sounds.

His pants are tugged low, along with his boxers, until there’s finally enough room for his cock to spring out. Gibbs is hard and veiny and his head shines with smeared pre-cum. His hand wraps around it in a loose fist, strokes it slowly and the head just happens to brush against your lips. The contact - however brief and teasing it is - alights your body in a rush of hot desire that not even Dwayne’s talented tongue can really sate.

And the only real way to be sated is to suck him dry.

With your hand still on his hip, you pull him closer. Your tongue finally peeks out, running up under the head of Jethro’s cock and it makes him hiss in the most delicious way. And despite everything, you can’t help but feel just the smallest inkling of pride at the sound. Makes you wonder just how fucking cocky you’ll get when you make him cum.

That thought is motivation enough to drop your hand from Jethro’s hip, replacing the hand he has stroking his cock to continue the rhythm yourself.

And he’s much thicker than you thought. Hard and heavy in your hand, with a certain softness that prompts you to lean your head in and run your tongue up the length of his cock. Gibbs shivers, and he’s just wound up enough to arch his hips closer and let you work him up.

You’re getting bolder, with all these little reactions from Jethro. Twisting your fist around the head of his cock. Sinking half of him down your throat, just to try and draw out more. To try and turn the stubborn, hard-headed Marine into sawdust-scented putty in your hands.

But Dwayne chooses the worst time to start rubbing the pad of his thumb over your clit.

It’s a firm motion, with his tongue delving ever deeper, and you can’t stop yourself from outright moaning with Jethro’s cock still halfway down your throat. And you’re not too sure if it’s even considered a moan - it’s really only a series of stunted noises and vibrations.

Whatever the hell it was, Gibbs sure seems to have liked it. Pride’s little stunt that almost had you cumming on the spot was equally beneficial for Jethro, who gasped hard and suddenly had his fingers gripping your hair tight. His hips even give a very light rock, but you can tell he was really holding back.

“Your mouth feels good, honey,” Gibbs exhales. His voice is tighter than it was; like he’s fighting hard as hell to keep his control. You don’t see, but his eyes flicker down to Pride. “King, make her moan again.”

God. What a fucking bastard.

Before you can pull off and tell him that, Dwayne obliges. His fingers curl inside you, hitting a certain spot that would’ve been toe-curling alone. But this time, instead of his thumb, his lips are on your clit. Tonguing and even sucking it, and you’d be damned if you didn’t moan louder, this time. Hips angling to try and grind on his tongue, but your movements are awkward when Gibbs grips your hair even tighter.

He pulls his cock out, letting you suck in a lungful of air, before he sinks it deep.

Gibbs continues that pattern, reaping the benefits of Dwayne trying his hardest to get you to cum. He feels every little vibration on his cock, and even when he pulls back, you waste the chance to breathe because you just have to push a loud moan out into the air.

Eventually, the pleasure just builds to a point where even Gibbs can see you’re about to go over the edge.

He does grant the small courtesy of pulling back a bit to where you could breathe through your nose. But when Dwayne’s assault finally breaks you, he’s still in your mouth. Still feels your tongue glide against the head of his cock as you cum. Hard. Crying out and gasping as you ride Pride’s face and the vibrations of your moans still feel fucking heavenly. Gibbs is almost disappointed when you stop, and he only feels your hot panting against his cock. So he pulls it out and leans back against his feet.

The second orgasm really did take a lot out of you. Or maybe it’s because of the attack on two fronts and it’s all just a little much, right now. But your eyes are closed, readily falling into the satisfied afterglow that Dwayne had provided. You want to talk; tell him how fucking good he is with his mouth. But words don’t come easy, right now. Not with his hands stroking your thighs, and Jethro’s fingers lightly moving through your hair. Somehow, the combination of the two feels even better than the orgasm.

The sound of somebody moving, and the warm body heat that follows, prompts your heavy eyes open. Dwayne’s gaze, turned mossy green by the firelight, captures your eyes instantly. You scarcely notice his flushed face, or swollen lips, or messy hair because his eyes are so damn soft.

And then he’s kissing you, making you taste yourself on his tongue. When your teeth brush against his lower lip, Dwayne lets out a noise. Quiet, keening, more desperate than you’d expect from one of the most solid men you know.

Though, once his hips roll against yours and you can feel how hard his cock is straining against his jeans, you start to understand what’s got him so needy.

You hum softly. Wrap a leg over his hip and pull him closer, and the closeness has Dwayne hitching his breath. He pulls back from the kiss, blinking a couple times to see you through the horny haze he’s in.

“Your turn, Dwayne,” you tell him softly. And along with your hand slowly moving down the expanse of his chest, it just makes him shiver.

And he’s much too eager to take his turn. There’s even a light smirk on his face when Dwayne pushes himself up to his knees. After pulling his shirt off over his head, he undoes the button and zipper of his jeans to push them and his boxers down, revealing the deep V of his hips. His cock, sensitive after being locked away for so long, is long and hard. Longer than Jethro’s, and there’s a sudden small urge to derail Dwayne’s plans. To flip him over and give him the same treatment you provided to Gibbs.

But one of his hands grips your hip, the other working over his cock. Slowly, as to not get himself too close to the edge before he’s actually inside you. But as patient a man as Dwayne is, you can tell by the way he pants how much he needed this. Needed you.

So when he positions your hips in the right way, your spine arches to help. Granted, the help with nullified once Dwayne gently pushed the first inch inside - because you made a noise so fucking sweet, he could’ve came on the spot.

He doesn’t, though. It’s that famous self-restraint.

Dwayne does groan and screw his eyes shut when he gives a light thrust, pushing half his cock in. He wants more, but your gasp stills him. His cock is much thicker than his or Jethro’s fingers. It’s a stinging, delicious stretch that makes you grateful you have a leg around his hip; you tug him closer. Nearly all the way in, and that’s finally enough to make him swear.

His fingers will leave raisin-colored marks on your skin, that much is certain. But they still feel good - grounding, because the slow glide of his cock in and out surely would’ve made you forget how to breathe.

You’re more than willing to fall into the sensation of Dwayne, but suddenly, there’s a calloused hand on your cheek. Warm and strong and it prompts your eyes open. Dwayne and his gaping mouth and half-lidded eyes are visible for only a moment before your head is tilted to the side. And fire-lit golden skin is replaced with darkened cobalt eyes.

Jethro says not a word. You feel his breath on your lips, but he’s kissing you earnestly before you could babble out anything. A long moan - shamelessly wanton - rang against his lips because you’re too far gone with pleasure to even think, much less care.

Noses smush together. Tongues dancing and Jethro’s teeth nipped at your bottom lip, just to tease. And along the way, you wonder why the hell he keeps smirking. It doesn’t occur to you that Jethro finds it amusing that you whimper every time Dwayne hits a sweet spot.

Disappointingly, he breaks the kiss. Your eyes blink open, fighting to make out the blue in his eyes in the golden light of the fire. But Gibbs motions his head, silently beckoning your attention back to Dwayne. So you mindlessly follow his order and turn your head back. Your eyes meet Pride’s for just a moment, and it’s him who breaks the contact. Hanging his head to concentrate on keeping the (albeit sloppy) rhythm.

It’s still a fucking beautiful sight.

That’s when Jethro brushes his lips against the shell of your ear, his voice low and breath hot. “You like the way he’s fucking you?” He asks. “Like how it feels?”

Your brain isn’t in the state to be talking right now, so the most you can do is nod.

“You want me to fuck you like that?”

Again, you nod. More desperate, this time, as you keep watching Dwayne. His hips are going faster, harder, keeping less of a rhythm and more just chasing his orgasm.

Jethro pressing a soft kiss against the hinge of your jaw. “Can’t wait to hear you moan like that for me, honey.”

“Fuck!” Dwayne suddenly yelps. It’s loud, and you hadn’t been expecting a noise like that to come from him. And because of it, your attention wavers away from Jethro whispers things in your ear. Focus instead on Dwayne; his hips giving a few more sharp thrusts before he pulls out. His hand is instantly wrapped around his cock, pumping until streams of his cum shoot across your belly. Dwayne is breathing heavy with his eyes squeezed shut, moaning deep in the back of his throat until the orgasm passes. And his hand slows, languidly stroking his cock until he just stops altogether.

You hadn’t even noticed you were staring until Dwayne raises his head. Locks eyes with you and offers a small, shy smile. He’s still catching his breath, and the exertion makes his movements slow and wobbly. But after casting a brief glance to Gibbs, Dwayne moves away from between your legs. Collapses back on his bedroll next to you with a contented sigh.

“You really made a mess of things, King,” Jethro comments, moving to take his spot between your thighs. And a trail of goosebumps follow his hands when he moves them across your skin - you’re not yet so numb as to not feel the heat of his palms.

Dwayne lets out a small, almost disinterested hum. That’s when you shift slightly; throwing a smile up to Jethro as he uses his grip on your thighs to pull you closer. “I don’t mind the mess,” you tell him. Voice all hoarse and rough and the sound of it is enough to attract Dwayne’s attention. Make him just a little less groggy.

Jethro just huffed before his attention dropped between your legs. And you take advantage of the small moment of peace by looking sideways to Dwayne. He’s watching you, eyes heavy but bright with his half-smile - that post-orgasm affection. The tips of his fingers gently run over the skin of your arm. A feather-light touch that would’ve tickled, had you not been so fucked out.

The hitch of your breath didn’t come from Dwayne’s soft caress. It wasn’t anything so innocent; the blunt head of Jethro’s cock was the culprit, pushing through and stretching you back out with little warning.

The hitch became a gasp when Jethro gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Testing just how well you take him and gauging his speed. But by now, you were so wet and fucked open, it really didn’t take him much time to bottom out. Fingers tightly gripping your thighs, it didn’t matter to him that he was going second. Jethro’s sharp breath showcased his pleasure.

“God- fuck...”

So he did swear.

The air pushed from your lungs with each slow, deep thrust he took. And when Jethro found a quick rhythm, it didn’t help. He pushed your thighs up, knees apart, making ample room for himself to drive in over and over. And he knew he wouldn’t last too long; the memory of your hot mouth on his cock was still too fresh. But he was going to make you cum for a third time before he was done.

Past the blind pleasure and the weight of Jethro slamming against yours, there’s a pair of lips on your cheek. The soft fingers that had been stroking your arm now resting against your ribs, hand blossomed out like an orchid in bloom.

“You doin’ okay?” A low voice murmured in your ear. His nose nuzzled lightly against your temple; soft and affectionate.

Immediately, you turn your head to face him. And in that moment, you never needed Dwayne more than you did right now. Jethro was hitting all the best spots, but somehow, you needed more. “Dwayne,” you manage to whimper his name. Unable to say much more and praying he understood.

He’s known you for such a long time. Of course he caught on.

The way he kissed you wasn’t as rough and desperate as all the others have been. And in a way, that made it so much more intense. Dwayne’s tongue ran along your bottom lip, taking his time, letting you taste him and allowing himself to breathe you in. His hand stroked over your abdomen, further spreading his cum into your skin but not giving a damn about it.

And when Dwayne breaks the kiss to move down, his mouth once again latching onto your tits, your fingers instantly move to run through his hair.

Maybe because Jethro was getting rougher in his thrusts. Forcing you to climb up toward your third orgasm with him, and you just needed something to hang onto. Dwayne was the closest thing.

Case in point, when Gibbs slightly changed his position. His cock hammered in differently - better - and you cried out. Fingers tugging hard on Dwayne’s hair and making the poor man yelp into your soft skin. His head instinctively pulls away and, despite the pain, he’s wearing a sly smirk.

“S-sorry,” you manage weakly.

“Nah, you pull as hard you want,” Dwayne replies. And the soft, yet wrecked, sound of his voice is enough to give you goosebumps.

And with his mouth coming back to sucking hickeys into your skin, you’re well aware how fucking close you are to cumming again. Release so painfully near; a literal breath away. And from the look of Jethro, he’s in a similar state.

His thrusts have grown sloppy, large hands branding your thighs with fingerprint bruises; gripping them so hard to give himself leverage. Jaw dropped to catch his breath because you can tell the Marine is exerting a massive amount of self-control to keep himself from cumming. But even Leroy Jethro Gibbs has his limits, and it would be cruel to ask him to hold off much longer.

You angle your hips up just a little. “Jethro,” you call softly. His eyes rise to meet yours; hazy and dark in his pleasure. “Need you. Please. Please- fuck...make me cum again.” You’re not above pleading. Putting that extra edge in your voice to wind him up a bit more.

He swears; low and deep in his chest. Nearly sounding like a growl as one of his hands leaves your thigh, dropping in between your legs. And once Jethro quickly starts rubbing hard, tight circles around your clit, that’s when he starts falling over the edge. It’s not really his fault; you tightened up around him and cried out into the dark cabin and Jethro noticed how your fingers once again curled into Dwayne’s hair.

His body acts on its own - giving one, two more desperate thrusts before pulling out. The hand he used to help you cum instantly wraps around his cock, and Jethro even lets out a tight groan as his cum hits the inside of your thighs. It trickled down your leg slowly as he came down from his high, leaning back to sit on his feet. And yeah, he selfishly enjoys the image you lay out for him; panting and fucked out, painted with cum.

While Gibbs recuperated, Dwayne is actually the first to move. His eyes drag themselves away from you, glancing around the fire-lit cabin to find the shirt he’d so desperately tossed away. And when he spots the familiar fabric, he uses it to wipe away the mess he left behind on your belly.

Dwayne handed the shirt to Jethro, and he does the same with your thighs.

You listen as both men finally settle in on their respective bedrolls; their breathing still heavy, but slowly evening out. That’s when your eyes open, blinking up at the ceiling of Jethro’s cabin. The firelight flickers against the old wood; a strangely serene image. So starkly different from the images of hazy eyes and eager lips.

With things slowing down, it would be so easy to just close your eyes again. Your body feels weightless and it’s warm and you could so effortlessly fall asleep.

But Dwayne speaks up, cutting through the sound of crackling wood and howling wind. “Hey, Jethro?”

There’s a slight hesitance from Gibbs. “....Yeah?”

“I reckon we outta come out here more often.”

Maybe it’s you. All those endorphins still flew around in your head. Or maybe what Dwayne said was legitimately funny. But you burst out laughing, and Dwayne followed shortly after. And through it all, you even hear Jethro’s deep chuckles.

Your laughs had devolved into light giggles by the time Gibbs is pulling a blanket over you. It’s hard to tell whose blanket it is, actually, but it doesn’t really matter. It’s warm and comes with a soft caress over your hair from Jethro as you turn away from him.

Dwayne’s shoulder does make a damn fine pillow. And just in case it gets cold in the night again, the press of Jethro’s body against your back will assure you won’t freeze.

#ncis x reader #ncis new orleans x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #dwayne pride x reader #ncis nola x reader #ncis reader insert

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