Bathroom Mirror (Arthur Fleck X Reader)

Bathroom Mirror (Arthur Fleck x Reader)

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Daryl Dixon x f!Reader: Together Apart Ch.5

Warnings/Mentions: History of abuse, neglect, strong language, mentions of character death, alcohol and drug abuse, ptsd, shared trauma, reader is cold, angst, fluff, eventual smut, slowburn, angst

Summary: You and Daryl grow closer due to feeling out of place in Alexandria. Just when you think you have the old Daryl back, he leaves.

Notes: I think the chapter after this one will be the last chapter, and finally have some cheesy old fashion love making :D Sorry Daryl vanishes at the end tho ):

It never seemed to end for him. In front of everyone else he was silent, emotionless, an empty body on autopilot. But when you'd walk off into the trees to search for water, it always hit him, no matter how many times he'd thought he'd cried out all out and was done with it.

He clung to you after her death like never before, constantly walking in your shadow and wordlessly begging for some sort of comfort, reassurance, anything. You did the best you could, which ended up being more than either of you expected. You seamlessly morphed into the familiar elder sister role, mirroring the ways you would comfort your bruised baby brother.

He put a cigarette out on his hand the one time he went off by himself, and not following him was something you came to regret.

“Daryl,” the whisper of your voice had him cringing, the sound too empathetic and full of concern, he had to fight to keep himself from cracking when your comfort washed over him.

“I know… I'm not good with words, or shit like this.” You sighed, maintaining a quiet tone, low enough for the sound of rain and the crackle of fire to cover.

Daryl remained silent as you spoke. He picked at the skin around his fingers, looking down at his hands in his lap, and the sight of your smaller hand lightly touching his wrist makes him jerk.

“I can't take away your pain, God knows I'd kill every goddamn piece of shit alive to make you feel better.” Your voice turned shaky, and the urge to cry was becoming overwhelming for the both of you. “But... I can promise you, you'll never have to worry about losing me. I just want you to know, I'm that one thing you don't need to worry about. I always will be.”

Daryl slowly inhaled through his stuffy nose and nodded, the noise dry and shaky, his eyes burning and unblinking from their gaze on your hand.

“I know.” He finally spoke and nodded again, as if that would magically set it in stone. “Me too.”

Slipping back into your place in the group dynamic was unpleasant after being alone with Gabriel for that long. It wasn't just one person you had to make an effort for anymore, and deep down you despised it. It was almost comparable to going back to school after summer break. You had to play by the rules again, fit into their perfect perception or risk repercussions.

The discovery of Eugenes lies was all but a surprise to you. You didn't have some wild sense of intuition, you were just a pessimistic person. Although you kept your opinions to yourself, you didn't predict the extent of how deep his lies had been. The cure was a given, obviously, but the fact he lied about being a scientist as well? Lied about the safe place in Washington too? It took everything you had in you not to cave his face in when you saw the look of disappointment on Daryl's face. That's another reason why you hated being in a group. People didn't deserve to be able to let you down, and sure as hell not the one person you gave a shit about.

People love to parrot that same ‘it has to get worse before it can get better’ bullshit you'd been told by concerned and empathetic authority figures all throughout your childhood. Safe to say it had lost its meaning to you, even when Daryl tried to lift your spirits.

Well, it sure got better for everyone else.

You weren't alone in your suspicions about Aaron. For once Rick and you agreed on something, it was a bad idea to go to Alexandria. But the group convinced him to take a chance, that the rewards greatly outweigh the risks, and you watched with a disapproving glare as Aaron led you all past the gates.

“I'm just going to ask you a few simple questions, get to know you. You don't mind if I record this, do you?”

You had a feeling your answer wouldn't make any difference, no matter what you said. You shook your head as you watched Deanna turn her video camera on, the big black lens feeling like an intimidating pit waiting to swallow you up if you gave an answer she didn't like. She rounded the couch and sat down, a tight and professional smile on her lips.

“Let's start with your name.”

You told her your name, trying to behave despite your stomach growling and the sudden awareness that you smelled and looked awful.

“Where are you from,” She repeated your name.

“Georgia. Up North.”

“Did you work?”

“No.”

“What were you before the outbreak?” When you didn't answer, she elaborated. “Were you a student in school, staying at home, traveling…?”

“After high school I stayed home for a couple years. Took care of my mom.”

“I understand you're close with Daryl, is that right?”

You must've visibly reacted to that question, because even after you answered, she pressed for more information.

“Did you grow up together?”

“Kind of, we weren't really friends or anything. He lived nearby and I'd see him around.”

Deanna nodded as if she was your therapist listening to some deep-seated trauma.

“Did you ask anyone else these questions?” You scratched the back of your arm, beginning to feel uncomfortable.

“I ask everyone all kinds of questions. I want to get to know you all, it's not an interrogation. You don't need to answer any that you don't want to.”

She finally changed the subject to your relationship with Rick's group. Not that you were eager to talk about it, but at least she wasn't grilling you on Daryl anymore.

“I've been here since before Rick came and took over. Back in Atlanta. Daryl and his brother Merle came to get me when it happened. I thought maybe they were having some bad trip or somethin'. Ran into my house yelling about dead folks coming back to life and eating people. If it wasn't for them, I'd probably be dead too, but, I think they mainly came to get me because they knew my mom had a stash of cigarettes and drugs.” You were chuckling as you spoke, not realizing you had given up so much information without her even asking. You instantly shut up, the amused smile leaving your face.

“How do you get along with other members of your group?”

You cringed at the phrasing. They weren't your group, they were Daryl's people, you were just a temporary guest without a set time to leave.

“Fine. Haven't heard any complaints. Have you?”

“No. But I have heard you don't work well with others.”

You shrugged.

“Do you want to be here?” The way she would use your name at the end of every few sentences was starting to get under your skin.

“I'm kinda stuck with wherever Daryl wants to be.”

Deanna ended the interview after a handful of other unimportant questions and you were allowed to leave, led to your new house by one of her son's.

You took the longest and hottest shower of your life, only getting out when Abraham started pounding on the door. It brought back that same feeling of anxiety you'd get when your mother would bang on your locked door in a fit of anger. You nearly ran him over when you burst out of the bathroom, making him drop his change of clothes and call out a disgruntled complaint.

“Who the hell is this?”

Daryl looked up from his bag to see you looking down at him, a teasing grin on your fresh face. The image of you being all cleaned up had him momentarily stunned. It had been a while since either of you had seen each other clean like that.

“Daryl? No way, where's your grease?” You toyed with his damp hair before sitting next to him on the floor near the fireplace, where he'd decided to sleep for the night.

“Nah, I don't know you. Ya don't smell like bloody rabbits.” He retorted, leaning in to dramatically sniff at you. “The hell is that? Shampoo?”

“Uh, it's shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, and toothpaste.” You replied, giving an exaggerated smile to show your clean teeth.

You shared a few chuckles and jokes as the rest of the group cleaned up and prepared for bed. Even though you couldn't stand the place or the new people in it, the prospect of having your own room with an actual bed had you buzzing with excitement.

Sleeping next to Daryl wasn't anything out of the ordinary for you. It was an arrangement that happened more nights than not. But sleeping next to Daryl in a safe house, wrapped in clean clothes, soft blankets, and not even the slightest whiff of the outdoors? It was overwhelming.

You turned on your side to face him, watching as he stared up at the ceiling, the dark room filled with the familiar ambiance of gentle snoring and breathing. Daryl always slept after everyone else, and that night was no exception.

Despite your instincts telling you not to, you wiggled on the blanket to move closer to him, nuzzling your face in his nearly dry hair, closing your eyes as you inhaled his clean scent.

He stiffened at first, an automatic reaction which soon faded and he relaxed, tilting his head until his cheek rested against your forehead. He could barely feel the warm tickle of your breath under his jaw, the feeling soliciting a subliminal relaxation. His eyes closed then, and he listened to the barely audible whistle of your nose. He listened as the whistle got softer, slower, and nearly disappeared altogether as you fell asleep.

Daryl made sure to untangle himself from you the next morning, before anyone else had the chance to wake up and witness your private bond. No one deserved to see that part of him or you, it was intended for the two of you alone, something deeper and more personal than anyone would understand.

Adjusting to being around people was a challenge that went all the way back to school. Even in Atlanta you struggled with it, going from being a hermit with your sick mother to an adult in a large group of people, it felt like your first day of school all over again.

That was all nothing compared to being in Alexandria. Not only were you surrounded by people that annoyed you, but another larger group of people you knew absolutely nothing about.

They bestowed heavy responsibilities on you as well. It wasn't just scraping by washing clothes and hunting, it was work. Hard work. Wall building, gardening, work inside Alexandria, work outside their walls, near constant supply runs, and cooking.

Parties. Pasta for dinner. A seemingly limitless flow of sparkling amber champagne. Some kid was walking their fucking pet dog on the sidewalk.

It felt insulting. Their first impression on you firmly implemented your personal views towards them. Spoiled, weak, wearing faces of false persona, wives chittering like hens with warm knowing smirks. Husbands and men who always smiled like the sun, going out of their way to do things they considered nice for you, then putting on a somber and humble face if anyone had praised their hard work, dedication, and sacrifices. Sacrifices that basically ensued going to the grocery store.

You hated it. You hated them, you hated their kids, you hated their houses that looked like mansions to you, and you hated the way Rick's group treated it like they'd walked through the bright pearly gates and not the glorified pretentious prison that it was.

To your relief Daryl didn't quite like it either.

“They invited us to what?” You didn't believe him when he said it to you as he stared around your new room.

“Said it was a welcoming party.” He grunted, fingers picking at the edges of a tacky poster of a puppy on the wall.

“A party? What do you mean a party?”

“Dunno.” He sighed, throwing his hands up in muted exasperation. “S’jus what she said.” She being Deanna, the same woman who took away your guns, which yours had grown to be quite the impressive collection. But you being your hardened and sneaky self, you'd managed to smuggle two of your handguns into your room. Daryl got to keep his crossbow, of course, and you your own recurve bow, it was the bare minimum aside from your knives, which the others were allowed to keep as well. Sadly, you'd end up breaking that bow a few days later by slinging it at Pete's head.

“And everyone's going?” You pressed on from your seat on the bedroom dresser.

“Dunno. Goddamn, told you what she told me, you know s’much as I do.”

You went to the party. Of fucking course you would, they had full on meals with all the food groups, they had alcohol, they had little appetizers and finger foods you'd only ever seen on tv and in magazines, you'd be an idiot not to. The only con was the house was stuffed with people. You could barely make it two steps without bumping into a new face.

You didn't stay long at all, leaving the second your stomach felt full, and you had a decent buzz going on. You snuck out the back door and snagged the half empty bottle of champagne on your way out.

“Ya went?” Daryl was surprised to see you walking down the sidewalk in new clothes. The black button up hung a little loose on you, the sleeves bunched up around your elbows, the hem falling all the way past your ass.

“I may not like those people, but they make some damn good casserole.” You snickered, popping out the metal reusable cork and taking a deep drink.

Daryl grabbed the bottle from your outstretched hand and downed nearly the whole damn thing in three gulps.

“Yeah yeah. Go on, help yourself.”

He gave a weak grin at your playful scoff before handing the bottle back to you.

“You remember what I said back in Atlanta.”

You looked to your side at Daryl as the two of you walked down the dimly lit path back to your new residence. “Gotta be more specific.”

“Bout takin’ their shit an’ hauling ass outta there.”

“Yeah. One of my biggest regrets is talking you out of it.” You sighed, your tone no longer playful and lighthearted. “We could be all the way across the country by now. Would still have Merle bitching out ears off and ranting about some racist conspiracy theory.”

Daryl suddenly chuckled. “You ‘member that time he was tryin’ to come up with slurs for walkers?” His amused grin spread further when you erupted into laughter at the memory. “What was it he called ‘em? Rotters? Pus-suckers?”

“Yeah, those were some of the tamer ones.” At the time you'd been annoyed by Merle's constant need to remind you that the three of you were better and more superior than anything and anyone around you, but all this time without him and his humorous outlook on life, you missed it. You even missed when he'd belittle you, at the end of the day he still was sexist, despite the obvious care he held for you.

“Why'd you ask though?”

“Dunno.”

“Daryl.”

“Everyone's safe now, ain't gotta worry about ‘em anymore.”

You kept quiet as he fought for the words to convey his thoughts. It was obvious he felt like the odd man out again, it was impossible not to, in a place as nice as Alexandria. The rest of the group had effortlessly slipped into their places in the new environment, if you were an onlooker, it would look as if time had frozen in place for the small neighborhood and its citizens.

But Daryl, and you, it wasn't easy like that. You never had a normal life like this, so you had no default state to regress to. Daryl had only changed a little since the start, and you hadn't changed much at all. Your skin felt like it was burning with electricity at the insinuation in his words.

“I'll go wherever you go, you know that.” You nodded firmly. “Just say the word.”

He ended up going to Carol with his vague plan, and then Rick. You don't know what they said to him, but the next morning he told you he wanted to give it a few days before he made his decision.

You should've just made the decision for him. You should have grabbed your stuff, packed your bags, and stole one of their cars and left. Because a few days turned into a hell of a lot longer.

It wasn't all bad, the two of you grew even closer due to his feelings of being an outcast once again surfacing. It was the same for you, which caused you to cling onto him tighter than before. You slept on the same ratty mattress in your room, sometimes cuddling, but most of the time on separate ends.

You watched more people die around you, which was something you'd become bitterly accustomed to. Aiden, one of Deanna’s sons, and Noah, who you'd never spoken to before. Rick made some trouble for himself getting wrapped up in the wife of the town surgeon, and all hell broke loose after that. Pete lost his shit and accidentally killed Deanna's husband, and Rick killed Pete. As if there hadn't been enough blood shed, a hoard of walkers became an issue just as things started to calm down.

You didn't like the role that'd been assigned to you. You were being seen and tasked as a protector, sent out by Rick with Abraham and a handful of others to build strategic walls for his master plan of relocating the hoard.

Another thing you didn't like was the way people's views towards you changed. People who once never even spared you a second thought were speaking to you, making an effort to get to know you, and it was just as unsettling as that time Rick invited you over for dinner.

“Too pretty to be so sad all the time.” Abraham had said once as you dug a hole for the wooden pillar.

“I'm not sad.” You muttered, stepping back as three men lifted the wood into the hole. You poured in the instant concrete and took your gloves off to get a drink of water.

“So you just always have that sour look on your face then, huh?”

“Only when I'm around people I don't know.” Or like, you thought to yourself.

“I've known you for how long now? Course you know me. And Sasha, and Rosita, and-”

“You're people I'm stuck with. Doesn't mean I know you.”

“Tsh.” He snorted, folding his massive arms across his equally massive chest. “So you're just a bitch then?”

“Yeah.”

One would think that conversation would've been enough to get the point across. No, sadly, it only made things worse. Rick ended up giving you jobs with more people, and you quickly caught onto the convenient way Daryl was almost never in those assigned groups.

Rick was in charge, that was undebatable, but he wasn't in charge of your free will. You did your work as he asked, most of the time faster than expected, and spent every second of your free time with Daryl, even if it meant pulling four different jobs a day.

It worked like that for a while, and eventually you did begin to change. Not you exactly, moreso your attitude had changed. You became less closed off, no longer baring teeth and claws as a constant warning. You actually enjoyed spending time with Abraham, as he was one of the only people that called you out for being shitty, he wasn't scared of your mean mug or the harsh bite of your words. It wasn't just Abraham you started to like. Maggie, Carol, Rosita, Michonne, and sometimes Tara, the small group shifted from strangers to acquaintances, some would call you their friend. They'd eventually worn down your hard exterior and you experimented a little with conversation and generosity. Carol was the exception, it was you who had to pursue her. Trying to become genuine friends with her was hard, it made you realize how hard everyone else had been trying with you.

You even started decorating your room a bit. Nothing fancy, just a few homemade shelves and displays for your numerous weapons. You made a special one above your futon, the only object it held was the small gold tinted shell of a used bullet.

All good things must come to an end.

You sat alone in your shared room for the third night in a row, silent on your lumpy mattress, your eyes burning in effort to hold back tears.

He hadn't even told you he was leaving.

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams @my1fx @jinx-nanami

Cranberry Vodka, Arthur Fleck x Reader

Prompt: “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?”

Warnings: Cursing, drinking.

Pairing: Arthur Fleck/Reader

A/N: I wrote this for the #arthurfleckjokerwritingchallenge hosted by @arthurfleckjoker2019, I thought it was a cute fluffy one-shot and I hope you all enjoy!

***

You have a history of getting a little out of hand when you drank. Nothing crazy like getting into fights at the bar or parading naked through the streets, but you were a little… enthusiastic about things. Like when your neighbors brought over peach cobbler to welcome you to the neighborhood you cried and called them beautiful and told them you loved them.

And when you met Arthur, you were a little more than tipsy. You were at a comedy club with your friends and sat down at the only table available, which was his. After a few more dirty martinis you were chatting up a storm, asking him every question you could think of.

When the show ended you gave him his number and that started a beautiful friendship, and you tried not to drink around him after that.

You and Arthur had a very interesting friendship. It was quite obvious he had a little crush on you, you could tell because of the way he looked at you. He snuck glances at you when he thought you didn’t notice, with this look in his eyes. Like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.

It would be far from the truth to say you didn’t feel the same way. Maybe not in the way he was so deeply enthralled by you, but you did think of him as more than a friend. How could you not? He was so kind, so sweet, he would do anything for you and you knew it.

Arthur never had a friend. Sure, he had ‘friends’, but none of them were in it selflessly. At work, they’d call him their friend, but only to butter him up for favors. Other people that he saw often in his life were in no way considered his friends. His social worker, the woman at the pharmacy who would give him his prescriptions, the manager of his apartment, they were all just side characters in his own sad novel.

But you. He adored you. You were his only true friend. The only person to help him when he needed help, the only one to check up on him out of the blue and make sure he was okay, the only one that didn’t get uncomfortable when he laughed.

So, you tried not to ruin it with your drinking.

One night though, your neighbors brought over a bottle of vodka, assuming from their first meeting with you that you enjoyed alcohol. You very much loved alcohol, you loved to drink, but hard drinks like vodka were one of the worst things you could consume. You always got lonely and invited people over, and if you were with people you became way too flirty.

It just so happened, you were alone on a Friday night and opened the bottle. The cork popped open and you made yourself a Cape Cod, your favorite mixed drink. Cranberry juice and vodka, with a lime on the edge.

After your first two drinks, you reached the lonely stage and called up Arthur.

It took a few rings, but he picked up.

“Hello?” He answered, sounding as if he didn’t expect a call. You looked at your watch and realized it was nine P.M. You hoped you didn’t wake him or his mother.

“Hi, Arthur. It’s (Y/N).” You smiled into the receiver, laying back against your couch while you took a sip of your drink. It was smooth, sweet, with a little surprising tang.

“Oh, (Y/N).” His tone brightened and you felt your heart warm at the change in his voice. “How are you, how was work?”

“Work was fine, boring, as usual.” You found yourself twirling the phone cord around your finger, grinning like you were a high-school girl talking to her boyfriend late at night. “How was your day?”

“Uh, fine. It was fine.”

“Are you busy? Or anything?”

“Uhm, no. No, I’m not busy. Why, is something wrong?” The sudden concern in his voice was evident, new nervous thoughts running through his head.

“No, not at all. I was wondering if you uh, if you weren’t busy maybe you could come over?” Your mind raced to think of an excuse, normally when you asked him over at night it was for dinner or if you had a funny story about your day. But your day was uneventful and you had eaten dinner in town. You didn’t even have left-overs to offer.

“Sure!” He said before you could lie your way out of awkwardness. “My mother, she just went to bed. So sure, I can come over.”

“Okay!” You breathed out a shaky laugh, taking another sip of your drink in an attempt to calm yourself down. “Okay, well, I’ll see you soon!”

The two of you hung up and you went to freshen up your makeup and pour yourself another drink. He took a while to get to your place since he walked, and you would have offered to pick him up if you hadn’t been drinking.

Arthur rang your doorbell shortly after you prettied yourself up and drank two more cocktails.

“Arthur, hi!” You beamed as you opened the door, welcoming him into your house.

“Hey.” He smiled sheepishly and walked past you, taking his coat off and hanging it by the door. “I saw a cat on the way over.”

“Aw, a kitty?” You swooned over the thought and closed the door behind him.

He raised a brow at your strange dreamy attitude but said nothing about it, only nodding. “Yeah, a brown cat. Looked old.”

You led him to your living room and quickly picked up your empty glass, not wanting him to know you were drunk. In your state of oblivion you had no idea that it was painfully obvious how drunk you were. Not to mention the sweet smell on your breath and the way the cranberry juice had stained your lips. He gave you the benefit of the doubt though, since you weren’t acting nearly as out of control as the night he met you.

“So, how was your day?” You drew out your words, which of course, didn’t go by Arthur unnoticed.

“You already asked me that. On the phone.” He was amused by the way you were acting. The way you slurred your speech and stumbled around the room was funny to him, you acted much different than his coworkers when they drank. Randall invited him out once to drink with them. Accepting his invitation was a decision he regretted almost immediately.

You were much nicer, though, much more warm and comfortable.

“Oh, right.” Your laughter, oh how he could melt just listening to it. “Well, do you wanna watch a movie? Halloween is coming on soon.”

Arthur was a bit confused as to why he was there, every time he had come over to your house, it was for a specific reason. No one had ever invited Arthur over to just ‘hang out’. It would be a lie to say he wasn’t happy, though, it meant you enjoyed his company enough to have him over for no other reason than to just be with him.

“Yeah, sure.” He shrugged, not even trying to keep the bashful smile from his face.

You sat close to him on the couch, maybe too close to him, judging by how stiff he sat. Every time your arm would accidentally brush against his, he would tense up for a few seconds. It was adorable. And the fact that you were well past drunk only made him more appealing to you.

“Ease up, Arthur.” You said after a while of him doing this over and over. “It’s just me.”

The way you spoke only made him more nervous. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something, but his throat felt far too dry to speak. He barely managed to croak out an ‘I’ before he choked on his own words.

Did you truly make his that nervous so easily? You could have toyed with him a bit, been cruel and made it worse for him, but you couldn’t bare do something like that, not when you were in the state you were in.

You didn’t see your next action as malicious. Really, you didn’t think much of it at all. You only wanted to be closer to him. But if your goal had been to relax Arthur, you had done the complete opposite. You leaned in closer to him, resting your head in the crook of his neck. He smelt so good, aside from the smell of old cigarettes. You could barely put up with that.

Arthur fucking froze.

“What cologne do you wear?” You asked, turning your head so you could smell him better. Doing so, your nose brushed against his earlobe, sending sinful chills down his spine. He had no fucking idea what cologne he used. It was the same bottle his mother had bought him for Christmas all those years ago.

“It smells so good.” You continued when he didn’t answer, only nuzzling your face further in his neck.

He had no idea what to say. He was a thousand miles beyond nervous, his heart was slamming 200bpm against his chest, and his right leg bounced uncontrollably. He’d never felt his heart beat like that before. He imagined this was what cocaine felt like.

Apparently, leaning your head on his shoulder wasn’t close enough for you, so you looped your arms around his waist and curled into his form.

Okay, it was time for Arthur to start asking questions. “(Y/N),” His voice trembled as he spoke. “What are you doing?”

What were you doing? Wasn’t it obvious? “Do you not like it?” You asked, ready to move if he so wished, but for the moment you remained where you were.

He answered immediately, tripping over his own words. “No! I mean, I like it just fine, I just, don’t know why you’re… being like this with me.”

“Uhm,” You laughed, looking up at him. “Because I like you. And I want to.”

His heart jumped to his throat. “What did you just say?”

“I said… what did I say?” You giggled, trying to play with him a little. You’d always been a playful drunk.

But Arthur was having none of it. “(Y/N), please,”

The tone of his voice was enough to make you understand the seriousness of the situation for him. “Okay, I’m sorry.” Leaning up so you could look him in the eyes, you smiled. “I said I liked you.”

If you could burn one image into your head for the rest of your life, it would have been the look on his face when you said those words. His features went slack, all but his lips, they twitched into a smile of disbelief. Seeing him go through a range of emotions at once was an experience all on its own.

“Wait,” Suddenly, he didn’t look so happy anymore. “You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?” He furrowed his brows, glancing down at your cranberry reddened lips.

“A little.” You admitted, biting your bottom lip. “But, a drunk mind speaks a sober heart.”

His eyes scanned over your face, searching for anything he could use to help him understand what the fuck was going on. You were drunk, he had known that since he walked in your house. So what did that mean? Were you lying? Was it the alcohol talking?

“Arthur, you’re thinking too much.” You sighed and reached up to brush a stray brown curl from his face. “It’s not hard to believe, is it? I mean, I invite you over for dinner all the time, we go out together every weekend-”

Arthur leaned forward, his heart racing, and kissed you.

You hadn’t expected him to be so bold. You kissed back, boy, did you kiss back. You ran your fingers through his soft hair and sighed, thankful he had made the next move.

When you pulled back from his lips he was silent for a moment, only to lick his bottom lip and chuckle. “You taste sweet.” Before he even realized what he was saying he had said it. For a split second he panicked, but when you giggled and leaned in to kiss him again his fear subsided.

“I’m actually really glad I’ve been drinking.” You admitted once the second kiss was broken. Arthur listened intently as you sat back in the couch, resuming your position of cuddling him. “I don’t think I would have told you that if I was sober.”

Arthur smiled to himself as he felt you relax against him. Yeah, well, in that case, he was really glad too.

Kylo Ren’s Spy (Kylo Ren x Reader Smut)

Summary: You're a spy for the First Order, and Kylo Ren isn't pleased with your progress.

Warnings: Cursing, smut, dub-con smut.

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Reader

Your day had been unbearably long. All of your hours of daylight had been spent faking everything from emotions to information, you were exhausted. You’d planned on having a relaxing evening, you had a bath, bought a new nightdress, and settled down on the couch in front of your fireplace. You were working on your second glass of wine when you were rudely snapped out of your relaxed daze.

“Do you have it?”

Working as a spy for Kylo Ren wasn't an easy job. Not when he would harass you constantly, showing up in your bedroom every night to fuss at you for not getting the information he needed quickly enough. It takes time to gain the trust of people, and he couldn't seem to understand that.

At this point, you were beginning to become angry. Had he no sense of privacy? Did he not respect you enough for that? You didn’t bother moving from the couch, not even looking away from the fire. He didn’t deserve it. If he couldn’t respect your privacy you wouldn’t give him common decency.

“I’ll send word when I do.” You answered dryly, taking the last sip of wine from your cup.

“I don’t pay you to sit around all day.”

“You think I’m sitting around all day?” You scoffed, a bit insulted. You’d spend all fucking day being his rat. And now he had the nerve to call you lazy. “I’m doing my job.”

“Maybe I should redact your pay, maybe that will give you the motivation you need.” After that, he took his helmet off, something he had a habit of doing when he planned on taunting you.

“And what good will that do you?” You looked up at him and shook your head, sneering. “Calm down. I’ll get your information.”

The muscles in his jaws flexed and for a split second, he looked like a spoiled little boy. But he relaxed, so quickly it disturbed you.

“You don’t need to come every day. I don’t need to be watched. I’ll get your information.” You felt like a broken record at that point and you reached over to the small wooden table beside your chair, grabbing the fancy glass bottle of wine and refilling your cup. “You could use some as well.” You muttered and took a sip, nearly choking when it was thrown from your hand.

You’d had enough. You stood up and got so close to him you could feel his breath on your face. “What is wrong with you? I’m doing the job you’re paying me for. It takes time, Kylo, I can’t get the information you need in a day! You need to control your temper!”

Kylo grabbed your throat, turning the both of you and slamming you against the wall next to your fireplace. You looked at him with wide eyes, instantly regretting your decision. What the hell were you thinking? Did you think you were invincible? You were a spy, not a soldier!

“Watch your tone with me.” He hissed, eyes scanning over your face. You were so close, if it wasn’t Kylo’s hand around your throat you would have been aroused. His upper lip curled in what looked like disgust. “I can read your thoughts, I suggest you stop thinking so filthy.”

Your heart jumped to your throat and you swallowed hard, looking anywhere but his eyes. “Please,” It was becoming hard to breathe.

“You say that word often. Do you beg for other men as well?” How dare he? You bared your teeth and grabbed at his hand, fighting to get him off of you. He knew just the right buttons to push. “Do you? I bet you do. I bet you sound sinful when you beg.”

What the hell was he doing? You couldn’t pinpoint his motive until you felt the hand that wasn’t choking you reach under your nightgown. You gasped and fought harder against him, kicking and shoving, but it was no use.

“You’re still fighting me?” He mused darkly and you felt his gloved hand run up your bare thigh, his breath hot and humid against your cheek. “I can feel what you feel, don’t forget that. I know how lonely you are. How long it’s been.”

“Kylo,” You warned, and you tried to deny it, you tried to pretend he was wrong, but from the moment he had grabbed your throat you’d been set ablaze. And now with his hand between your legs, it was impossible to block him from your thoughts.

“You’re weak.” He spat, his hand retreating from your legs only for him to pull his leather glove off with his teeth. Oh god. How did he look so irresistible doing that?

Then he was squeezing the inside of your thigh so hard you thought he’d pull your skin off, his hand hot against your flesh. “And too defiant. You need to learn to respect me.”

And he thought this was the way to earn your respect? Normally, you were quick to retort, but with his fingers around your neck and his hand bruising your thigh, you couldn’t think of a damn thing to say. You wanted to kill him right then and there, but at the same time, he was right. You had been so lonely and it had been so long. Years since you’d been with someone. And humans had their needs.

He snorted at your thoughts and released his grip on your thigh, his hand reaching up to your panties. You sucked in another gasp and felt your legs grow weak when his fingers looped through the hem of your fabric. “Stop it, let go of me, don’t touch me!” You choked out the words but he ignored them, moving his hand from your neck to grab a fistful of your hair. You were turned around and slammed back against the wall by his grip alone, your cheekbone hitting the hard surface.

“I’ve been lonely too.” He breathed on the back of your neck, using the force to hold you in place as he pulled down your panties. “Stop lying to yourself, you want it just as badly as I do.” His voice was barely a whisper now, needy and rushed, his hands pulling up your nightgown to your hips. He sounded much more genuine, his mocking had come to an end for the moment.

“I don’t, I don’t want you.” You gritted your teeth, still keeping up the lie. He had worked you into a mess with his aggression, you’d never been treated like this, and you fucking loved it. You wanted him to fuck you against that wall. You wanted him to choke you and bite you so hard you’d be left with blood blisters on your skin.

“Your thoughts say otherwise.” His hands left you for a moment, only long enough to free himself from his uniform. “Keep denying it. We both know the truth, why won’t you give in? Let yourself feel good.” His words calmed you slightly, but only for a few seconds. Then you felt his cock rest against your inner thigh, hot, heavy and the tip of it sticky with arousal.

A bolt of electricity went through your body, and if not for the Force holding you in place, you’d be climbing up the wall to get away from him. You gave one last attempt, straining so hard against the Force before giving up.

Why fight? You wanted it. He was right. Just give in.

You relaxed and slumped against the wall, closing your eyes and letting him push inside you. Kylo shuddered and swallowed, his mouth incredibly dry. “(Y/N).” He breathed out, the puff of air from his lungs blowing a lock of hair off of your shoulder.

He had to go in slow, for his sake and yours. It had been so long for you, the only thing that had been inside you for years being your fingers. You were so damn tight.

You both moaned together, sounding sinfully beautiful, Kylo’s forehead resting on the top of your head as he tried to regain his bearings. He pushed in deeper, stretching you impossibly wide, the sensation of you squeezing the life out of his cock almost too much. He groaned, long and drawn out, his lips trembling when he was fully inside you.

“Oh, yes, oh my, Kylo,” You slurred, bracing your hands against the wall. He was no longer using the Force to hold you in place, you were willingly staying in place and letting him fuck you. He would have said something snarky about it, but you had left him breathless.

Kylo hadn’t expected to react to you this way, he thought he would have more control over himself. At this point, you could do anything you wanted to him. And he would beg for it.

He stilled for a moment, getting used to the tightness and allowing you to get used to the size of him. The room was quiet and still, save for the sound of your breathing. Both of you. Soft little gasps and sighs.

It made you uncomfortable.

“Fuck me,” You spat, getting impatient. “If you’re going to do it, fucking do it, or I’ll-”

Kylo cut your sentence short and grabbed your hair again, at the same time withdrawing and slamming back into you at a brutal pace. You cried out and felt your knees give in to their growing weakness, causing your body to fall down onto his cock. Kylo gasped sharply at the sensation of being completely inside you, then groaned and pulled your hair harder.

The pain of your weight forcing his tip against your cervix caused you to scream and you shot back upright, only for him to slap his other hand on your mouth and pull you back down on him.

He fucked into you fast, pulling you tight against his body by the grip in your hair and his hand over your mouth. Your back arched almost painfully in that position, your ass pressed into his hips with no space between your skin.

You came fast. And as soon as you did, you were angry again.

Gritting your teeth, you caught him off guard by whirling around and shoving him backward, causing him to trip over a chair and onto the floor. He hadn’t expected you to fight back anymore.

“I’m the weak one?” You were on him in a second, darting forward towards him before he could move.

You relished the look on his face. He gazed up at you with wide eyes and parted lips, completely at your mercy. You crawled on his lap and used your hand to push him flat on his back, slowly sliding your palm up his chest, over his dark clothes to wrap around his throat. “Look at you,” You hissed with a smug grin and rolled your hips down against his cock, hot and wet with your cum, feeling his length slide between your slick folds. “ Commander. ”

The sound Kylo let out was animalistic. He groaned deeply and let his head fall back against the marble floor, his hips thrusting up against your own in hopes of slipping back into your warmth.

He looked beautiful. His face flushed, his eyes blown with lust, his black curls sticking to his sweaty face and neck. “I’d make you beg for it, but I’m not patient.” You reached between the two of you and grabbed his cock, giving him a firm squeeze and making him grunt before you angled him at your entrance.

Ever so slowly you sank down on his length and sighed, tilting your head back and closing your eyes, feeling his abdominal muscles tense through his clothing under your flattened palms. It felt amazing having him fill you back up again, and at this angle it was phenomenal.

You’d never hate fucked anyone in your life, but if this is what it was like, you could definitely get used to it.

His eyes fluttered shut when he was back inside you. You slowly rose and fell, feeling his head rub against that perfect spot in your walls. He let you set the pace for a few strokes before taking control again, grabbing your hips and holding you in place while he fucked you. His thrusts were the same as before, hard, fast, and rough, demanding and merciless, making your hair bounce around your head and your moans come out as choppy ‘oh, oh, oh’s.

Since he was supporting your body you used both of your hands to squeeze around his throat.

Oh. He liked that. Being the one choked was something completely new to Kylo Ren.

He tried not to let on to the fact that he loved the feeling, especially when you were choking his cock as well. But it was painfully obvious because as soon as your fingers tightened around his throat you felt his cock twitch excitedly. He fought to breathe as you used your upper body weight to press down on his neck, still thrusting up into you with that aggressive pace.

“How do you like it?” You panted as your body was bounced on his cock. His eyes fluttered open and his attention was on your face as you spoke, flickering from your lips to your eyes. “How do you like the feeling of blood being cut off from your brain? The pressure in your head, Commander ?” Each time you teased him with his title, he came closer and closer to his climax.

With the help of your words, his orgasm came fast, swelling inside him before he let out a deep groan and sat up, looping his arms around your back to pull you down onto him. He held you firmly in place as his hips rolled against yours, spilling all of his cum into you.

He was panting hard now, gulping in fast and shallow breaths.

The feeling of your clit being pressed down so tightly on his skin set off your second orgasm and you sank your teeth into his neck, biting down hard as you rode out your waves of pleasure. The streams of white-hot bliss surged through your body, from your clit to your organs, all the way to the surface of your skin.

Fuck. What had you done?

You came down from your high and swallowed hard, opening your eyes. Kylo was still holding you tight against him so you couldn’t see his face. What was he thinking? You could feel his heart thumping against your chest, just as fast as your own, his heavy breathing rocking your bodies.

You glanced down at the damp skin of his neck under your lips, seeing that you had been the one to leave blood blisters. A deep red mark in the shape of your teeth stood out angrily against his pale skin, the bruise harsh and prominent, raised up slightly. That would be there for weeks.

No words were said for a while. The silence was finally broken when you slid off of him, out of his lap, the cum inside of you immediately leaking out of you. You placed your hand between your legs to stop the flow, but it still trickled around your fingers and down your thighs.

“You know,” You panted, walking to your panties that had been left on the floor near your fireplace. Once you slipped them back on you turned to see he had pulled himself together and was leaning against the couch. “If you fuck me like that every time you come to get information, I won’t mind you coming every night.”