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#at least i have enough to finish his other talents but MAN
dreamsontheirway · 11 months
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It’s Not Your Fault | S.R.
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Summary: You leave work late one night and someone follows you. Spencer x reader. Warnings: stalker, sexual assault/unwanted touch Word Count: 1.7k
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Spencer hated it when you had to work late nights. You were also an agent at the BAU, but sometimes you had to stay late to complete paperwork. He would stay late with you on occasion, but you hated inconveniencing him. Of course, he would never consider it an inconvenience.
He had offered to stay late with you again tonight, but you refused. He had such a long day and you knew he needed rest. Besides, you wouldn’t be too long.
It was only around 9 pm when you were finishing up your work. You heard the shrill beep of your phone, indicating a notification.
Hi darling. Almost finished?
You smiled at his message. You quickly sent a reply, letting him know that you would be leaving imminently. Almost immediately, he replied with a thumbs up and a heart.
You began compiling all your papers and files, now completed, and placed them in the filing cabinet at your desk. You stood up, grabbed your satchel bag, and admired the look of your tidy desk before turning on your heel and walking towards the door.
You normally parked in the parking garage attached to the building, but earlier today it had been massively full due to a conference. You were forced to park in the garage down the street a ways. This wasn’t so bad; the early fall weather was the perfect kind to walk in.
You began your short trek from your building to the parking garage, adjusting your satchel bag on your shoulder. It made you a bit nervous how dark it was already, but it wasn’t a far walk by any means.
You were about halfway there when you heard the light scraping of shoes on concrete behind you. You snuck a glance and saw a dark figure about fifty feet away. Most of the time men on the street were harmless, but you were an agent, and you had a bad feeling about this. There had been a few cases recently about women being assaulted in this area.
You assumed you were just being a bit paranoid. It had been a long day of looking at horrible case notes, after all. You decided to walk diagonally across the street as a short cut, and to see if the figure behind you did the same. Your stomach twisted tightly when the figure followed your path exactly. The figure had gotten closer, too, by at least ten feet.
Your hand instinctively went to your hip. Shit. You had left your gun locked up in the office. Shit.
You could hold your own in a fight, but you had absolutely no clue what you were up against here, and no back up.
You scrambled and fumbled your phone out of your pocket, and clicked the most recent contact on your call list. He picked up on the second ring.
“Y/N, are you on your way home y—“
“Spencer,” you whispered, with an intensity that resulted in a thick silence on the other end. You typically called him Spence. He knew something was wrong. “Someone’s following me. I left my gun in my desk.”
“Shit,” Spencer exclaimed, frantically. “Shit. Where are you?” You heard rustling on the other end.
You were a talented agent, and Spencer knew you wouldn’t call him unless you thought there was something seriously wrong. Unless you thought you couldn’t handle it. The thought sent a shiver down Spencer’s back.
“I’m almost to the parking garage, but there’s no one around. Spencer, I don’t know anything about who’s behind me. I don’t know what to do.”
The person behind you was getting closer, but you were talking quietly enough so they couldn’t hear you. You were growing increasingly frightened. You knew you were trained for this, but you were still a relatively new agent, especially in comparison to Spencer and the rest of the team. You’ve had your fair share of creepy men come on to you, but you had the advantage of analyzing them and knowing what you were dealing with. You didn’t have that advantage this time around. You could assume the figure behind you was a man by the heavy steps, but that’s about it.
“Keep walking, quickly. I’m on my way. I’m texting the others. Stay on the line with me, please.” His voice was desperate; you could tell he was just as terrified as you. You knew one of his biggest fears was losing you. Your mind briefly flickered to the realization he’d probably never let you work late without him again. The thought seemed comforting in the moment, and you found yourself wishing he was here.
The hairs on the back of your neck stood up stiffly.
“Hey baby,” a deep, slimy voice spoke, a few feet behind you.
Damn it, you thought. You had been preoccupied talking to Spencer, you hadn’t realized how much closer he’d gotten.
You ignored the voice, and continued to walk quickly. You were unsure about how to handle the situation. You just wanted to get to your car. You could see it shining in the distance, the beams of light dancing on the windows from the lights in the parking garage. Luckily, you had parked on the lower level so it would be easy to access.
“Hey, I’m talkin’ to ya,” the deep voice continued.
You could hear Spencer frantic on the phone, asking who the voice belonged to. You ignored him; you had to focus on making it to your car.
“Hey!” The voice bellowed, and a strong hand clutched your arm tightly, and you knew it would bruise.
You yanked it away, turning around. “Do not touch me.” You demanded, releasing a shaky breath.
Spencer was losing his mind. “Y/N,” he gasped. “I’m almost there. Hold on.”
You just breathed out in response. You slipped your phone into your back pocket, still on the call with Spencer.
“What’s a pretty lady like you doing alone out here on a night like this?” The man questioned. He smirked, his teeth crooked and his eyes a piercing blue, so different from Spencer’s soft and comforting hazel.
“I’m going home,” you stated, continuing towards your car, but angled so you could continue to watch the man.
“Come on,” he smirked. “Aren’t you up for a little fun?”
He lunged then, grabbing the sides of your arms and pushing you against the concrete wall right next to the parking garage. You struggled against his grip. He had caught you off guard, and he was much stronger than you.
“Let me go,” you spoke deeply, as venomously as you could muster, although the slight crack at the end wasn’t very intimidating.
He just hummed in response, and let his hand travel down your arm and rest against your hip. You squirmed against him, but his grip was far too tight. You felt bile rising up your esophagus at the touch of the vile creature in front of you.
You whimpered, tears pricking your eyes. You couldn’t move. You had no part of your body free to even attempt to utilize the years of training you’ve had. The bastard knew what he was doing, and it terrified you.
The man’s large and sweaty hand traveled further, and squeezed at the fabric of your ass. Against your wishes, your let out a light sob.
All of a sudden, the man was torn away from you, his tight grip causing you to stumble forward onto the grass. It all happened so fast and you looked in the direction of where the man had been pulled to.
You saw a familiar head of brown, wavy hair. Spencer was clad in a Caltech sweatshirt and jeans. He really had left the house as soon as you called. He always preferred to wear a combination of slacks and a button down or sweater.
Spencer had the man pinned against the wall, one arm against his throat and the other — oh my god. Spencer’s right hand had his gun pressed to the man’s side.
“Don’t fucking touch her. What gave you the idea you could touch her?” Spencer growled, his left arm adding pressure to the man’s throat. Spencer rarely cursed; you knew he was pissed. The last time you saw him like this was during the whole events with Emily. But even then… this was different. The veins in his neck were popping out so much it looked like they might burst. Spencer was often protective of you, knowing the dangers out there in the world, but you hadn’t ever seen him like this.
“FBI, put your hands up!” A loud voice boomed to the left of you and you quickly looked towards it, breathing out when you saw Morgan, his gun pointed towards the man and Spencer.
Despite Morgan being here now and you being safe, Spencer didn’t budge from his position against the man.
“Agent Reid,” Morgan boomed, harshly, knowingly. He knew how much Spencer cared for you, and how quickly his emotions could escalate when something he cared about was threatened.
Spencer loosened his grip slightly, and the vile man against the wall lifted his hands up in defense. Spencer hesitated, then finally released him, but pushed the man against the wall as he let go.
Morgan rushed forward and took Spencer’s place, twisting the man so his front was against the wall. He grabbed his wrists and placed them in cuffs.
You were sat, watching the scene in front of you. You felt helpless, vulnerable, stupid. You were an agent of the FBI, how could you have let this happen? You choked back a sob, but a whimper left your lips against your will.
At the soft and solemn sound, Spencer’s gaze dashed to you and his eyes were filled with worry. He rushed to you then, cursing himself for not attending to you earlier. He lifted you from the grass, clutching your shaking form against his own.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He asked, his hot breath against your ear.
“Just my pride,” you choked, laughing grimly. “I’m so sorry I let this happen.”
His grip on you tightened, his strong hand pulling the small of your back towards him. “Don’t say that. It’s not your fault. We’re pretty sure he’s the unsub the local police department has been looking into.”
You shuttered at the thought. You felt like one of the victims whose smiling face was on the board in the conference room. You felt weak.
As if Spencer could hear your very thoughts, he whispered against your hair, “It’s not your fault.”
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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I Never Missed You 2/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)
Word count: 7.3 k
Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)
Summary: You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.
A/N: A three part fic based on this request. Smutty smut ahead in this chapter. Brace yourselves for impact.
Part 1
You have to admit that you look dashing tonight. 
And not because you want to turn people's heads at the party… But because you want him to look at you like you're the most forbidden snack he will never have.
It's selfish and petty, and you're just seeking attention. But at least you have the balls to admit it: you want Simon Riley to drool after you. You want this man on his knees. And nothing else has worked except that bra.
So you turn to the world's oldest weapon. A woman's weapon. Seduction.
"I'd suggest you keep a low profile until we're done."
He looks at you through the mirror while you finish your hair. Uses the word we instead of I. It makes your heart ache… And you take even that lecturing comment as a compliment. So he does think you look nice, or at least nice enough to stand out. You read into every look, every little tone of voice he gives you.
"I thought we were supposed to lure him in," you say while you neaten your necklace. Of course you look nice. You have done everything you can to look ravishing tonight: a deep-cut, thigh-revealing dress, cat eye makeup, red lipstick...
"Yeah but not like this."
"I'm not locking myself inside the house because of this," you announce pointedly. "I'm not afraid to live my life." 
You turn and look him up and down, give him a little tilt of the head. "Don't you have anything else to wear?"
He doesn't shrink, doesn't bat an eyelash. Just looks down on you from that ivory tower of masculine prowess and makes you feel like a fool for being so dolled up.
"There's a difference between courage and foolhardiness," he states, not falling for your attempts to make him feel small in your world. You suspect there is so much more to this man, but you don't care to know about the circumstances he grew up in, the situations that gave him that broken nose and lip. You don't want to know about his broken soul.
Or perhaps you do...
"I suppose you know everything about that," you say while looking straight at the uneven scar on his jugular.
"I do."
"Tragic past?"
"You could say that."
You feel even more silly, standing before him in all your glory, pearls in your ears and silver around your neck. You pay this man for his services; he's supposed to protect you. But something in his eyes told you from the start that there lies an abyss inside this man. And you didn't pay for that: a peek inside his heart. But a door is open a creak now, and what's inside is pure darkness.
"Well, whatever it is, I'm sorry you had to deal with that."
Your cultured attempt to dance around his chasm makes those brown pools melt. Finally, he melts. But not to compassion, or mercy, or anything that would make you believe that you two understand each other. 
He looks at you like you're a stranger from another planet. He's intrigued but doesn't quite understand how a creature like yourself has come to be. You're not only a child in his eyes but a coward as well for not daring to open that door to hell.
"What do you think," you hurry to change the subject. "Will I do tonight?"
He’s always so hyper-vigilant, his stare fixed on everything else but you. It feels childish, to be jealous of his attention when all he’s trying to do is protect you. 
But now… Now that alert darkness bores straight into you.
"You look good in everything, ma'am."
A breeze of arctic wind goes through your scalp, and a fainting warmth settles in your belly.
You tiptoed your way to the fridge yesterday morning, before official breakfast, in your knickers and an old band merch from your youth - the one you still slept in sometimes because it was far more comfier than your silk pajamas. He walked in fully dressed and mighty while you were sneaking back upstairs with a glass of apple juice. The humiliation was overwhelming, especially when he dared to look you up and down in your state of underdress.
"Goodness… Sorry."
It should’ve been he who was supposed to say those words. But you felt like an intruder in your own house. It was a dangerous slip: to look so homely, with no brush stroke gone through your hair, with no toner on your skin. With no makeup and standing there before him in all your…you.
"No harm done."
He had never looked at you like that, and you swore right then and there that you would only descend those stairs with your full battledress from now on.
"Even in an old t-shirt…?" You ask with a tight voice. Desperate. Longing…
"Especially then."
Simon Riley strips you from your weapons and charades in a second. Your tight, seductive smile slowly falls off your face, and from behind it, a fragile, naked hope arises to gape at him. He clears his throat as if he just offered you an entire bowl full of ice cream when he was supposed to give you only a little scoop.
"I'm gonna go take a shower," he says, calm and adamant, like a statue you would go to see at a gallery.
"I'm afraid we should be going already."
"Takes 5 minutes."
You purse your lips, and he's on his way to the bathroom before you can even give him your nod. The guy is used to military showers, then, and perhaps it's for the better that he puts on at least some effort.
When he comes out, you're sitting in the hallway, and he's only wearing a towel. It's the one you gave him when he arrived, the softest you could find from your closets. You remember how the first odd thought you had upon seeing this man is that he probably isn't used to softness.
And now you see why.
You can see the prominent veins and the sketchy forearm ink, his muscles are magnificent to the point of unholy, he has a delicious, thin layer of fat on top of his belly, and the eyelashes aren't the only breath of hair that's pale on this man… But he looks like he has gone through an inferno.
His back is full of scars, and half of his shoulder looks like it has been dipped into a deep fryer. You catch a hollow dent between his ribs, and there's more, but he walks to his room before you see the rest of it.
The taxi drive to the party is filled with silence as you try to digest what you just saw. You want to call your lawyer and demand him to tell you where the hell did he find this man and who Simon Riley truly is. Who exactly does he work for when he's not taking bodyguard jobs? 
But the first thing you do when you arrive at the large party held in a small palace is to go to the punch bowl and down a glassful in one go.
He's on your heels the whole night, eyes everyone with a hawk stare, and does his job perfectly. He grabs your arm occasionally and whispers in your ear if someone seems suspicious. After one and a half hours, he comes to you and practically demands that you two leave. Normally, you would start an argument, but not tonight.
You kind of want to go back home, too. The people at the party seem tedious, and his scars have reminded you that even if you live in a world where violence is not the norm, it doesn't mean that other worlds don't exist. Otherworlds - where people get shot, stabbed, and blown apart. Whipped and cut and deep-fried. You're in danger, and it took his suffering to see that.
You have been so stupid that you just about wish someone would slap you.
Simon has been so patient with you that you nearly apologize on the ride back home. You want to beg his forgiveness and confess you have been a spoiled little idiot.
But again, that's not an easy thing to do. You turn to look at your forbearing bodyguard, ever silent in the taxi, and turn your voice to silk.
"You really should smile more," you suggest. He doesn't answer, just looks out your window as if there were perils there too. You suddenly realize anyone could shoot through the glass or the door at any given time. With a proper caliber, a bullet could pierce that window and coat his black shirt with the insides of your skull.
No. No. I'm not ducking my head.
There's no one there.
"Have you ever tried?"
You turn to humor and flirt to drive those intrusive thoughts from your head. He doesn't yet know that you're afraid, that you have been afraid this whole time. You should have bought that armored car.
"Am I your most annoying client ever…?" There's a smile on your lips, a little pardon for being so infuriating. His eyes drop there, then lift back up to your eyes with surprising seriousness.
"You're my first client ever."
Well… This was news.
"Oh. Why did you accept this job?"
His stare sails away from you and back to the London night. You stifle the urge to grab his hand, a fistful of his shirt, to draw his attention back to you. Every time he's around, you feel safe; every time he looks at you, everything else ceases to exist. 
You want him so badly you could cry.
"They don't teach you manners at the SAS…?"
"No. They teach us how to kill."
You scoff and turn to look through the window, too. 
"Brute."
"You're entitled to your opinion, ma'am."
When you reach your house, he uses that term again. You're 110 % sure he's only trying to annoy you. 
"Good night, ma'am."
"Stop it," you nearly slam your purse on the table in the hallway.
"What?"
"The ma'am thing…!"
You sound like a wife who's looking for an argument after putting on a charade all evening. When the door to your home closes, volcanoes erupt, and bombs drop, your husband-like bodyguard gets the blunt of your fear and frustration.
But how do you argue with someone who never argues back? He's calm like the Pacific during a stormless season, always, always gets calmer when you're going berserk. He walks to the armchair in your living room like he owns the whole goddamn place and sits down with a sigh. 
And there is a smile playing on his lips.
"What should I call you then?"
You look at him, dumbstruck, on that chair, spreading his legs like there's no tomorrow, arms comfortably on the armrests, and mouth drawn into a genuine, peaceful, thoroughly naughty smile.
"Oh, now you're smiling," you huff. The unbelievable audacity of this man… "Some ideas on what to call me popped into your head?"
"Verily."
"Go on then."
"Nah. You should go to sleep."
"I'm not going until you tell me."
You cross your arms over your chest to underline that ruling. His smile only widens. He looks wickedly delicious in that seat with his legs spread, and the chair doesn't swallow him like it swallows you. Actually, his shoulders are wider than the back panel of this enormous chair.
"Well," he begins, "’princess' came up first."
You try to catch what he just said through the stupor of wanting to climb on that wide lap.
"Truly? How original."
"Or spoiled brat."
You stop breathing for a second, then reel straight toward a spiral of–
"How dare you?"
You notice his eyes dropping to your heaving breasts again. This man is so different from a dinner-offering, cunning man in a suit. He has no pretenses whatsoever. He looks at you with that little smile, eyes burning, legs drifting apart even more, probably his cock stirring from how you are trying to chastise him. If you had pearls around your neck, you would clutch them. Or throw them at him.
"You son of a–"
"Pretty."
His next choice renders you speechless; it cuts through your insult before it even flees your mouth. You gape at him, jaw open, breathing and cheeks burning, pussy throbbing - soaked so thoroughly now that you feel a tiny droplet cascade down your thigh.
"Yeah. That's better," the man says as if he's also blessed with a Superman stare, knowing you're seconds away from drenched. "Better than brat or princess, anyway."
The darkness conceals most of him as he settles inside that massive chair he dwarfs. You are falling, or at least that's what it feels like. A tumble, a slip inside his Styx. But there's no bottom, and the water is warm ink, despite the fact that he's so blanched.
"Pretty…?" You whisper into that water, breathe onto the surface of his depths. The darkness answers immediately.
"Very."
Your swallow is a wet, nervous roll inside your throat when you sink into that river of lust and smoke. 
You take your jewels off first, because you know he doesn't care for them. Money's not his chief interest, even if he's being paid. And fat, at that. But he's not here for riches, he’s not here for the jewels – or that's what you desperately wish.
The necklace and pearls are gone soon, tucked away on the table with your trembling digits, and he's sitting there like a statue.
You have no trouble with this dress: the zipper seems to cascade down on its own as you reach behind your back. He's motionless as you slip out of the straps that keep the dark velvet up. You feel like you're the Styx: but the darkness of the river pools at your feet as you let go of the gown, let go of everything and continue your freefall.
He doesn't move, doesn't give evidence that he's even breathing; he just sits there like a long-forgotten king.
The panic snares you with a drool-wet throat: you salivate not because of him but because of your nerves. 
Are you… harassing him?
Does he want this…?
At least he thinks you're pretty – and you could laugh out loud; your thoughts are vain and petty, even when you're baring yourself before him in more ways than just one. Your breaths are audible distress inside that darkness, and he's still: everything's still.
But he moves when you reach for your bra.
It's just a hand that soars through the darkness, an involuntary reach for support and gathering of composure as his fingers find his jaw. They swipe across imagined stubble before he leans his head on that hand, just an ounce's worth of weight placed on his thumb and pointer as if he's simply in his thoughts. But the hawk stare is fixed on the lace covering your breasts as it falls on the floor too.
You hear his breaths now. Quicker on the inhale, heavy on the exhale. Your thumbs slide under the hem of the last piece of your veil, something you got from the store when you were feeling down. Now the underwear makes you feel better than ever - who would’ve guessed it's the moment you slither it off? Slowly, too: you’re being a tease, hip bones giving a two-second dance for him as he continues to watch you strip before him like the queen of the night.
You breathe in sync now, and your nipples perk up – he hasn't even touched you yet and you're more aroused than ever with a man.
Not a word spoken, and you fear you’re being delusional – if you've just imagined the heat between you two, but then those legs flare a hair's breadth more. His voice is the softest whip as it crackles through the void.
"Yeah... You're pretty. Now what?"
You breathe in gusts now. It's exhilaration, damnation.
"Jesus Christ, Simon."
The chair gives a creak as he rises, like an ancient shadow. Intimidating – intense, always, always, and you've been trying to coat him with soft towels and feed him toast. You wonder if he prefers black tea simply because it tastes more bitter than coffee rounded with milk.
Does he want this? Silly softness and toast and–
You get all your answers as he bends just enough to match your height, just enough to sweep you off your feet. Your hands go around his neck on instinct as he lifts you up from your rich, opulent Styx and into his sea.
You're quiet all the way upstairs – he can't fuck you downstairs, then, has to intrude on your luxury and privacy. You don't mind, especially when the steps give a desperate wail under your combined weight. He lets it sing its music to the night: your ruining already makes so much noise.
He reaches for his gun right after he’s placed you on the mattress. The sound of it is heavy when he sets it on the nightstand that has only seen glasses of water and apple juice and perhaps a few books. 
He undresses with soldierly sharpness, no seduction there. But he doesn't have to seduce you: his stare and heavy-cold demeanor have already done that.
He's so, so different from the others… Looks at you on the bed like you're both a piece of tender sirloin and something akin to garbage. That's an accurate depiction of a princess, perhaps. You know wasps gather around both honey and bloodied meat. 
He looks at you like that because you know nothing. And he's not here to ruin you… he's here to insert himself inside you like you're a foe that needs to be infiltrated, plundered and burned until you understand. 
He's big. Daunting. A brute while you’re the princess, could be the sleeping beauty, the way you stay immobile and try to take in this man's sheer power. You saw him half naked already when he came from the shower, but it's nothing compared to seeing all that taut, scarred flesh up close, soon about to fall upon you like a broken mountain. 
And what's between his legs is wholly proportional to the rest of him. That thing is a menace, and it's not even fully erect - hanging thick between thick thighs, foreskin revealing a fat, sloping tip, and he's veined all over… 
Finally, your mouth goes dry.
His gaze sweeps your beauty, and that cock gives a throb – a good, hard pull that stretches out into the open air, and your eyes go wide. Then he prowls, like the king of the jungle, moving with a fluidity that must be scary to those who meet their end by this big brute’s violence.
You are able to take in air only when his hand falls next to your head. The other claims you by the middle as if to soothe you - but the truth is you're caged in like a tiny, quivering animal.
The hand is heavy as it slopes across your stomach and scales your mound. It doesn't cup or probe, only rests there over your most sacred place, like an enemy surrounding a city. Your thighs part slowly, hoping he would just sweep right in.
"This wasn't in the deal," he rasps as he looks down at you: heavy iron judging a diamond.
"Oh shut up," you breathe, thoroughly thrilled and shy. If you weren't lying down, his intensity would buckle your knees.
"Nor do I take orders from you, ma'am."
"I'm not- Don't call me a-"
His eyes spark as the hand dips down like a deep diver into the blue. You gasp a stunned whiff when he's met with a mortifying amount of slickness. Your arousal sings a pretty song as he draws a finger over your slit, the moist sounds followed by another stuttering sigh. 
"Look at you all wet," he remarks, and you grit your teeth.
“Shut…up…”
"You know why I accepted this job?"
He wrecks you with one thick finger, rough skin lathering you with your own juice like he's trying to make a point here. And he is making a point: it comes across perfectly. The princess is a filthy mess for brutes…
And of course he was given a file on you too. With more than just one photo.
"Yeah," he rasps when you only look back at him with your felled deer helplessness. You could swear that he just heard your thoughts. "I think you know."
"You're–ah– a brute," you whisper, eyes shining. Your thighs part even more, feel yourself leaking over his fingers that stroke you agonizingly slow. You swallow with hunger, the need pangs on your cheeks. Your whole body is throbbing for him.
“Sticks and stones, love.”
He's so infuriating that you could slap him. Claw him, rip him apart. But you nearly laugh instead… It's far better an option to let him claw and rip you apart. He's tearing you apart right now, with those eyes and his hand, exploring you like you're the first course and he's here for the whole dinner. How can he be so calm?
"Could you…" You start, then realize you've never begged for this man.
"Hm? Talk to me," he commands. "Whatever ya want."
You whimper – from bliss or relief, you can't tell. The frantic need to serve is fully fleshed out in his tone. It surprises you. You thought he was here for his own pleasure. 
You try to think through the bliss of his fingers. You've had all kinds of things... All you could ever want, most would say. But that's not entirely true. No man has ever promised to please you however you want.
"Could you go…"
"Go down on you?" He places a thumb, broad and hard, on your clit. Teases it with the slightest pressure and a circle.  "Lick your cunt?"
Fuck…
He has no trouble saying it as it is, and you nod, still helpless.
"Sure. 'N after that I'll fuck you nice and good."
He's never, ever sounded like that before. Dark, and rich, the baritone reaching a level that speaks of hunger – no, need.
A brute, a pussy-drunk brute, the blood in your veins sing as he goes down. Nothing can prepare you for the way with which he manhandles his way between your thighs like they're only a petty distraction in the way. They're forced wide apart with a tight grip that speaks of urgency, but he takes his time to admire the sight bared before him. He’s drinking you in like ambrosia, towering above you while you’re being held open for him to just observe you like you’re a center-spread girl in a filthy magazine. 
"You're fucking pretty down here, did ya know that?"
You don't even know what to say - his tone, his observation is base, and still, they're the most beautiful words anyone has ever said to you.
"No…?"
"Well now ya know."
He steals a final glance at you, and the fire in his eyes already makes your legs feel weak. He dives between your parted legs, right into your leaking, glistening folds, and you're suddenly glad that you've done all that yoga… Those shoulders are so broad they force your thighs even further apart as he makes himself home there between your legs. 
A hot mouth presses against you like this man has been starving, even if you've fed him the best delicacies for days. An even, fat stroke is the first thing you feel before your toes curl and your head falls back.
"Goodness, Simon..." You try to keep yourself from stuttering as his mouth opens you like a flower. You should be quiet, for once, and let him do the job. He seems like an expert, even and especially there between your legs. "Do you-ah, always shag your clients?" 
"Told you you're my first," he rasps a husky sigh on your folds. He could ruin you with that voice alone.... He gives you another sweep of his tongue, full and ample, and your fingers curl around the sheets, your hips buck; your ass drives up on instinct, trying to both escape his mouth and rub your pussy against those thin but eager lips. 
"Don't worry," he tells your pussy with a warm chuckle. "This is free of charge."
You sigh, the first laugh of many up into the air. You're supposed to get angry, but you can't. You can't. 
"Have… no words for you."
"Good. It's about time you stopped talking, love."
He grabs your hips to punctuate it that you should indeed shut up. Fingers sink into your flesh like you're a whole goddamn feast - no more fucking toast and teasing. His hands look so huge as they dig into your skin - so different from the hands of men who work in offices or wait for people to serve them. You upvoted those hands to be the best part of this man long ago.
And that bulk of muscle… Some of those men in suits might go to the gym, but they couldn't forge a body like his in a million years: that breathtaking mass built to work and endure harsh conditions. It's not a flex or a sculptured piece of art: it's simply survival - ancient and primal.
He's got darkness, and you got diamonds, but something tells you his depths are infinitely more valuable. You couldn't buy his intensity even if they sold it in the streets. The skull mask was self-made, everything in this man is self-made, and he's sampling what diamonds taste like, and you wonder… Does he think you're cheap, some fake piece of worthless junk? Does he laugh at how easy you are? That under your manners, you're only a spoiled brat and a promiscuous maneater…? Or that he couldn't care less, as long as he can push his cock inside you?
He gives you his best, that's for sure. A working man, with you as his assigned mission, and the feeling of being a spoiled little princess only increases. And how are you supposed to stay still if he's slow and attentive like that? You might be his first client, but you're not his first shag…
His lips seal tightly around your nub, suck it, lap it, sigh on it - he's already breathless from the need to make you moan and cum. A purpose-driven, ravenous man, and when he dips his tongue inside your cunt, your mind finally goes blessedly blank. Your legs shake and stretch, and you can’t prevent your hand from skimming down to grab his hair when he gives you deep, unhurried plunges with his tongue, huffing against you from the mad want to make you feel good. 
You would never have guessed that Simon Riley would get such pleasure from licking a woman.
One hand disappears from around your thigh, and you guess it's one of his fingers that arrives, wide and thick, to tease your entrance. You can feel the smile on your folds as he slips it in, making you nearly jolt on the sheets. Your fingers instantly curl to tug that pale hair, to grab hold of something, and it makes him rumble inside you. 
He doesn’t even wait for you to catch your breath as he adds another finger. Goes shallow at first, then pushes those fingers in to the knuckle. The feeling of being filled - and not being filled enough - is going to drive you crazy any second now.
"Simon…"  
"Yeah?"
“I want you to… want you to…" you hear yourself choking on your beg as he works those fingers in and out of you while his lips are tight around your clit. He knows exactly what you're trying to ask.
And suddenly, it's he who breaks… 
"Right. 'M gonna fuck you now, yeah?"
The spread is gone, and you're being moved - on your belly, and you briefly think whether it's because he can't bear to look into your eyes when he takes you. You don’t even have time to whimper from the loss of his fingers and mouth before heavy thighs force your legs aside. You’re being spread again, crudely, obscenely, like it’s just a procedure that has to be done. He’s both methodical and impatient, and you wonder - has he wanted to rail you like this ever since he saw you? Force you to lie down on your belly while he takes you from behind like a helpless damsel?
His hands come to your hips as if to make sure that you won’t run away from under him. As if you ever wanted to… 
Something far fatter forces its way between your folds and straight onto your opening. He glides over your folds a few times, spreads your wetness all over his tip. Methodical still, but it makes you moan and swallow.
"Jesus…"
The lathering stops, the jutting cock settles right where your depths lie, and he chuckles. "Not quite, love."
Fuck… 
Fuck this man's cheek and audacity. Fuck his size and pride, the way he knows what he's doing all the fucking time. 
“Desperate for it?” 
That stupidly fat cock just resides there, teasing your aching, leaking hole without going in. But it’s like he answers his own question because you feel the thick of him give a notch against your folds. So impatient. Thoroughly needy. It sends you further down the whirpool of desire, a searing white, fathomless deep..
“Yes..”
When he goes in with a leaden grunt, your muscles go into a spasm - he's too big, he hasn't prepared you right, and still, you force yourself to relax.
"Not what you expected?" 
"It's… too much," you admit. He stops, realizing that for once in his life, he might've been an impatient man. Then he crawls forward, and you feel like you're about to be buried under a boulder as his weight bears down on you. Hands sink into the mattress on both sides of you, forcing you further up against him - you're floating, almost, to where you belong.
"Yeah? C'mon… You can take it."
You shudder. It's not even fully in yet?
He speaks too softly for it to be a demand, even when he's hovering on the brink of wanting to simply ram himself into your cunt. It's an encouragement. He’s cheering you on, like a coach. Or a leader... It’s leadership. 
When you don't object, he starts to feed more of himself in. You try to remember how to breathe because you were wrong, you were so, so wrong - it was barely just the tip, and now you're stretched wide and tight. He's endless, and sinking in deeper, deeper….
And you want it so much - all of him- you want to grip him and never let go. One hand comes to sweep over your hip again, it caresses the swell of your ass, and you know he's looking down at how well you can take him after all.
"How are we doin'?"
Your lips are swollen, and your brows are creased tight. It's still not in…? 
You’re fucked. Literally. But you can take him... You must.
You whimper when he slows down almost to a halt.
"Love. Tell me to stop 'n I'll stop."
"Just–gently," you whisper, brittle and shivering from joy.
"Don't worry. I got you."
Slowly, he arrives to the end of him and you. Hips flesh against yours, he’s out of breath before he even starts the thrusts. His length caresses places unfathomable in this position, and his weight is crushing you, even when he's supporting himself. It only feels like the safest place to be. Trapped there between your safe, soft bed and his safe, hard body. 
The first thrust punches the air out of your lungs. It doesn’t hurt, and it’s not uncomfortable; it’s just too much to take. You’ve never been so filled. 
"Fuck…" He swears, somewhere between the third or fourth thrust. "You're…"
"Good…?" You offer him when he doesn't continue. You know he was possibly going to say tight or something crude like that and corrected himself before it spilled. He merely grunts as an answer - a barbarian through and through, you decree. And then the brute speaks…
"The best."
God. You feel like a diamond after all, but you've never been under so much pressure, fearing you might break.
"You-too…" It's a sad little mewl. You sound like a child trying to make friends. Latching a hook on him, no matter how tiny it is. One shake, one ripple from the behemoth, and it will fall loose.
"Don't go lying with that pretty little mouth," he warns.
"I'm not lying."
"Yeah…? Keep squeezing me like that and perhaps I'll believe you."
It's a strange feeling, to meet your mistrust and jealousy on him. He has no pretenses, but he has secrets, camouflage, and flash grenades that blind you from the truth. But even he can't hide it all when he's moving inside you, so close, so terribly close.
You melt into a pool of heat and want, trying to meet him midway by offering your cunt, arching your spine, driving yourself up to give him better access. What was possibly meant as a desperate fuck turns into a sweet, weightless rocking, a rhythm of him and you. The hands on your hip start to gain weight as he holds you still for him, at times even pulls you against his cock.
"C'mon… wanna hear you," he huffs, then slides one hand to your butt and gives it a fond squeeze when you won't instantly make noise. "You're always givin' me that cheek and now you're silent?"
It's a warm question, a thick baritone that settles into your stomach, then shoots downwards and makes you clench. 
"Wh-what do you want me to say?"
"Want you to sing."
Of course the man who never talks won't shut up in bed. But he's not bullying you into submission, nor is he being mean. If anything, he sounds like he's finally on his knees. 
And you don't want to be mean either. Not anymore. But you just can't help yourself from having a little fun now that he's finally desperate and inside you. 
"Make me," you whisper, delivering your cheek with a wicked little smile.
The response is immediate: he dares to land a flat palm on your ass. Like you're a broodmare, a sirloin steak for him to feast on. And it does the job: you almost shriek, or at least that's how it sounds like when a parched little whine pushes through your vocal chords with violence.
"That's better," he barks, pleased with his work.
"You're horrible," you gasp. You're glad he put you face down on a pillow: you can only hope he doesn't see how happy you are in the darkness of his night.
"Yeah? And you're sweet." 
It's said with gravel wrapped in silk. It hits you and ignites, starts a flame inside you without permission.
You want him in ways you shouldn't. You want… more breakfasts, him carrying you up the stairs, taking in the way you tip-toe around the house in an old t-shirt. You want to serve him back rubs and tea and see who he is when he's not being paid. You don't want a lap dog or a guard dog, you simply want... 
Simon.
"I'm– I'm sorry that I've been such a bitch," you whisper. He sinks back on top of you until his nose nuzzles the back of your ear. He leans on his elbows, trying not to break you into too many little pieces, but the feeling of being confined couldn't be more blissful.
"Cock's that good?" He drags the following thrust, sparking your nerves aflame as he hits your core. But it's not brutal; if it is, it's the sweetest wrecking you could ever have imagined. 
"Don't make me take my words back," your lips pull to a smile and a silent, inner laugh. 
"Wouldn't dream of it." 
He's smiling too. Inwardly, perhaps, but you can hear the mirth. His weight on top of you while you're lying under him on your belly, unable to move, unable to do anything other than take the full brunt of his cock as it spreads you open, is pure heaven.
"Want you to cum when I'm inside you," he rasps in your ear, lips brushing the underside of your jaw. "Think you can do that, princess?"
Being told to cum on command is a bit ridiculous, you think. But not when it comes from that Cockney mouth. Not when he asks so nicely. Your cunt pulls, claws at him. 
"... I'll show you princess," you sigh, but it's only a second away from laughter. His fingers dig into your skin, the flush flesh of your ass. It feels possessive… Fond.
"Yeah. Show me. C'mon."
The camouflage gets slightly torn off by a wind of a smile. You can hear it on his lips. Sex should be fun, one of your friends always says. You had never thought about it like that. Bed is not the place for laughter and humor, you had thought. But now you are both on the brink of bursting with it.
"You're a fucking pretty one…" He grunts: a breathless, silent joy. "Know you want this as much as I do. Ain't that right?"
"Yes." 
"That's what I thought. So cum for me. Wanna hear the sounds you make."
You dance on the precipice already, and his voice causes your hand to shoot out to his. You drag that heated palm across your hips and your ribs, curl it next to you as if you were drawing a blanket over youself. It's a lover's caress, and his fingers slip between yours as he wraps around you like the protector that he is. 
Your walls flutter, the thickness inside you makes you swell with every thrust. His hips are relentless as he buries himself into you with blunt force, his flesh clapping against yours and making your cunt clamp down on him. Sweet, sweet, sweet, your blood sings as your lids drift closed. The wave is coming, the final tsunami that will sweep you with it, and you will only succumb with joy.
"Don't-stop," you hear yourself beg through the heavy pants he's grunting on your neck.
"'M not gonna stop," he grunts into your ear, serious now.
"Fuh–Fuck me good and… hard," you're hiccuping through dry tears. It feels like there's a hammer and an anvil placed between your ribs. "I need you hard-"
"Shit…"
You barely grasp that he's about to lose his precious control before the midnight sea takes you under. The world fades into a tight know of blue and white and black, electric, ambient, something soft and hot at the same time. You're choking on your tears, moaning into the pillow like a poor, broken, tortured cat. 
"That's fucking pretty," he swears on your neck as you cum. All humor is gone now, but he's not mocking you. He's just… emotional. The bulk of him rides you through the wave, but the rhythm of his hips becomes erratic. 
"That's it, pretty… I'm gonna…Fuck," he huffs on your skin, a mist of want, and the cockhead rubs something profound inside you and makes you jolt in the middle of your molten euphoria. He grunts, swears, and does it again - bludgeons so deep it forces out a sob, just before he breaks too with a choked, wet swallow and a groan. A trembling colossus, you think, as he thickens and bursts inside you.
You're an aching mess when he comes, his thighs pressing over yours and forcing them far and wide as he buries himself into you to the hilt. He's a behemoth, spasming and crumbling right above you. The broad abs bunch against your back while his hips pin you down and spread you open. The cock pulses inside you, and you are barely able to think how it's a miracle that both his thick flesh and the pool of cum, all of it, just somehow fits there inside you…
A gentle brute until the end, he swallows again, thick and breathless, before giving a few tight rolls of his hips, emptying himself to the last drop. Slowly, you both still inside your bubble of warm, dark blue, something akin to a sea between a tropical storm and a calm sunrise, a drowsy reef shifting with the waves. 
He's broken into a light sweat from the toil when he finally untangles your fingers. Your hips are kept in place with one hand as he slowly pulls out. You feel like you're left emptier than before, even if you feel the cum welling up inside, about to spill over.
Your bodyguard - your late-night fuck - collapses beside you, then reaches to pull you close again. Still back against his chest, still unable to look into your eyes when you're both vulnerable. 
"I'm gonna get you a towel," his fingers tremble as he caresses your arm with the most delicate touch. 
"No–don't, don't go," you whisper, then grab his hand and bring it back over you. You almost squeeze yourself with it. "Please?"
The tension behind your back decreases as he slowly falls back into bed.
"Alright love. I'll stay right here."
It's so peculiar how he reminds you of large water masses. A night sea under a pale moonlight. Not a stormy, roiling one, just a vast depth in an ever-swelling motion.
"I want… I need you to keep me safe," you whisper inside that swelling sea. You never want to come to the surface. You want to learn to breathe underwater. The heavy arm is draped over you; it covers nearly half of your chest as he sighs.
"Then let me do that."
His plea is not humble - nothing in this man is. He's not on one knee, swearing his allegiance and vowing to always protect you. He's not your Lancelot.
But in a way, his plea comes far too close to a beg. You feel a sting near your heart. It's electric, pure pain - the sweet kind, though, as you realize he doesn't only want to do his job… He wants to protect you. He has already tried his best to protect you while you run around like nothing is wrong. 
"Simon… I'm sorry."
"I already forgave you," he hums on your skin, evidently glad that you two finally understand each other. It should send you laughing, the thought that you needed his scars and his…treatment to find common ground. And free of charge, no less.
"Do you still wish you were somewhere warmer…?"
He bows his head against the nape of your neck, and the gush of air from his nose is warm and jovial. "No."
It's hours till dawn, but you wish it would never come. The beauty of the night is only now unfolding before you. It feels far more safe than the violent dawn. You wonder how he would react if you moaned his name as you cum. If he would shudder. You wonder what the hell is wrong with you that you didn't already do it...
"Simon…?"
"Mm..?"
"What happens now?"
There's a pause, but he doesn't shift for more comfort. Still, the bullet vests and battle gears are back on; you just sense it.
"We're gonna get some sleep."
"No, I meant… What does this mean for us?"
"What do you think it means?"
Now he shifts, but only to draw you closer. You feel like jello as he pulls your scent deep into his lungs, then exhales the grace on your skin like you're the only tobacco he needs after a good round of sex.
"Don't worry about it, princess," he murmurs on your skin. So delicately that you could claim this man has never even seen the army, never barked and shouted and smoked his throat dry. "We'll talk in the morning."
You settle into his sea, an embrace full of gentle, heavy safety. It's the sweetest oblivion to slip in as you begin a dreamless sleep, soft and snug. But it's not merciful enough to make you forget that you two… 
You never even kissed.
............................................
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love4thetinas · 3 months
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INKED ( Pt. 1 ) - a jake webber story
summary: jake is in need of a new tattoo artist, and he thanked his lucky stars to be blessed with such a beautiful one.
WARNINGS: slight spiciness, mentions of needles, idk just a bunch of flirting
4.4k words
┌──────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────────┐
Jake was an addict.
Well, a tattoo addict. He would get at least one new tattoo pretty much every week. He loved looking at himself in the mirror after a shower, admiring the myriad of small colourful drawings along his arms. His roommate, Johnnie, even walked in on him doing this the other day and saw him flexing in the mirror - a story they both agreed would stay strictly between them.
But unfortunately, his usual artist closed up shop in the last month, and he was craving another fix of ink on his skin. So he searched around for a new one to fulfil these needs of his.
He opened up Google on his phone - ‘tattoo artists near me’ - and checked the first few results and their reviews.
The first two looked pretty decent, however, there were some mixed reviews about either the cleanliness and/or hospitality. Jake figured that if he was going to get stabbed a few thousand times, it might as well be in a nice enough place.
So he checked the third one.
It was close (only about a 10-minute drive), the photos on their website and Instagram looked awesome, and it had almost perfect reviews:
‘Brilliant work! Will definitely come back’
‘Incredibly talented artist, well done’
‘Friendly, hospitable environment 5/5’
“Hm,” he hummed to himself, going to check their prices which turned out to be reasonable as well.
DM FOR SAME DAY BOOKINGS
‘Perfect!’ He thought as he followed the link on their website to the shop’s Instagram, crafting a message to send.
Hi there, I want to get a couple of tattoos done and was wondering if you had any slots free today ?
He sat with the chat open for about a minute, crossing his fingers as he waited.
But soon he saw three dots appear by his keyboard.
Manager here, of course! We’d love to take your booking,
But just a couple of things before i put you down, can you give a rough idea of what tattoos you’d like and where you would like them?
“Yes!” Jake cheered for himself in a whisper, punching the air in front of him triumphantly before he replied.
I was thinking just some red and black stars on my lower lower stomach? Maybe like 3 on each side if that’s alright?
Jake responded hesitantly, hoping there would be enough time for him available since he didn’t want to have to come back on another day. But his fears were settled promptly,
Perfect. That’s all fine to go ahead, I actually have a slot for you myself at 3:15 this afternoon if that works for you? You’ll have to put down a small deposit and then you pay the rest in full once it’s all done :)
They sent over the transfer details.
He checked the time at the top of his screen, 11:42, he had plenty of time to get ready and he didn’t have plans for the rest of the day. Looks like he would be coming home with yet another colourful trophy on his skin to show off to all his friends and fans.
Awesome, that sounds great thanks a lot man! I’ll pay you now
He replied happily as he walked up to his room, watching as they typed on the other end.
No problem, see you later :)
He huffed a breath out of his nose at the little emoticon smiley face; who would’ve thought a tattoo artist would text so cutesy?
Later that day Jake got in his car, ready to drive over to the studio, quickly fixing his hair in the rearview mirror and chucking on one of his Spotify playlists before he set off. The address was on their website and he put it in his phone for directions.
After roughly 3 songs had finished he spotted the shop, going to park up on the curb across the street. But as he went to open his door he noticed that it was still only 3’o’clock and he had maybe been a little bit eager with the time he left the house, so he went and got himself a coffee at the Starbucks across the street and had a cig outside while he waited.
But as soon as the time on his phone ticked over to 3:15, he was up there.
He looked around the room where there were three other people he could see getting tattooed. The walls were covered in posters and graffiti, loud music playing over the noise of the tattoo guns and artist/client chatter - it was like some sort of vintage, punk hangout, except it was most likely a lot more sterile and visibly a lot cleaner.
Jake walked up to the counter where he figured he was supposed to wait for the guy he spoke to on Instagram to come meet him.
His foot tapped nervously on the ground as he waited. Tattoos didn’t usually scare him, but it was more the fact that he wasn’t used to this new environment and artist. But he was sure it would be fine, they sounded nice enough over text.
A door opened up towards the back of the space from what he assumed was one of the private rooms and a guy and a girl came out, both covered in tattoos, chatting as they made their way to the front of the store.
But to Jake’s surprise, it was the girl who came up to the desk to greet him.
“Hiya,” she said with a closed-lipped, pierced smile, “How can I help you?”
“Uh…” Jake stuttered, he was always prone to that, but especially now, talking to her. “I’m Jake? I messaged your guys’ manager earlier for an appointment at 3:15?” he confirmed as she looked up at him from over the desk.
“Oh perfect!” she exclaimed, “I’m Y/n, the manager.” she clarified.
“Now, we don’t have any more space out here so we’ll have to be in one of the private rooms towards the back, is that alright?” she asked, gesturing to where she had just come from as she started to walk back out from behind the counter, but Jake didn’t hear a word she said.
He felt bad for even thinking it, but he expected some sweaty, bearded biker-dude to be the manager of this place. He was taken back as soon as she had told him otherwise; not in a sexist way or anything, but the image he conjured up in his head beforehand could not have been more different to the woman before him.
She was quite frankly gorgeous. Dare he say it the most gorgeous girl he’d ever met. And she was so… cool, you know?
With black hair, a few piercings, and some tattoos visible on her forearms and collarbone, and as she turned around to lead him away he noticed the small one behind her ear. Not to mention her fashion sense. But it was the way she carried herself that really drew Jake in.
Not once did she break his eye contact, not once did she walk without a strut in her step. Not once did she falter in any way.
“Uh- Sorry, what did you say?” he laughed nervously, having been too distracted, reaching up to scratch the back of his neck as she turned back to face him.
She laughed as well, only for a second, but that was enough for Jake to decide that it was the prettiest laugh he had heard in his life. But he forced himself to snap out of it this time for he could not ask her to repeat herself for the second time.
“I said we’re gonna have to go in one of the private rooms at the back ‘cause there’s no space out here,” she motioned to all the occupied seats. “Are you okay with that?”
“Oh!” he managed to hear her this time and nodded. “Oh, yeah, of course,” he smiled widely.
And gosh, was Y/n just trying to stay professional.
She hoped that her client didn’t pick up on the way her eyes scanned his body when she walked up to him, or how her stomach flipped as he ran up beside her and she saw how tall he was, or hell, how good he smelt.
“So,” she started to make conversation as she led him towards the door to the private tattoo room, “how’s your day been so far?”
Jake's ears perked up at the sound of her voice once again, snapping himself out of a daydream to answer the question, “Alright. Yeah, it’s pretty good.”
His smile. Fuck, his smile.
“And you?” he returned as they got up to the door which was slightly ajar so he skipped in front of her and held it open, like a proper gentleman, waving a hand for her to go inside as if to say ‘after you.’
Y/n giggled to herself under her breath as she followed him through the door, taking over to close it behind them, turning back to face him as he stood awkwardly in the middle of the room. “Same old same old,” she answered his question with a shrug, “but it’s not too bad.” she smiled.
“Take a seat in my office,” she laughed and gestured towards the tattoo bed as she sat down in her own chair beside it.
“Cozy office,” he matched her energy after looking around the room and taking note of the decor, picking up the pillow that lay at the head of the bed and fluffing it a bit, then holding it on his lap.
“Thank you,” Y/n said quickly as she took the iPad from off the table next to her, along with the stylus, and opened up a drawing pad. “So, you said you wanted some stars, yeah?” she looked up at him.
He nodded as he peeked over to see her screen.
“Sick. Alright, can you show me where?” she asked while once again making the same eye contact, tilting her head to the side and resting the end of the stylus on her teeth, making Jake’s brain go blank.
“Oh- yeah sure,” he tilted his head down, flicking some hair from his fringe out of his face as he lifted up his black tank top. “Just like, three stars on each side,” he traced along his pronounced V-line, even bunching up the waistband of his jeans to reveal more skin. “I was thinking they could be bigger at the bottom and get smaller at the top? And like alternate between black and red with a black outline.” he described in detail what and where he wanted them, but all Y/n could see were his slender fingers running over the prominent trails leading to his pelvis.
All she could hear was his deep, deep voice, with that Southern twang that could lull even the most chronic insomniac into a peaceful sleep.
Of course she was still listening, in fact, it only made her pay even closer attention to what he was saying. She watched very intently as he described the size and placement of it all.
Once he was done explaining he looked back up again, “Yeah, that’s about it,” he shrugged.
However, she was still looking at where his hands had just been - it was only when he dropped his shirt back down that her head flicked back up for her to meet his gaze again, one corner of his mouth being upturned to the slightest degree, but it was enough to catch her attention.
She got to sketching on the iPad, and because it was a relatively simple design it didn’t take long. Soon the template was printed out and she brought it back to Jake who was still sitting patiently on the bed, swinging his legs off the edge but stopped as soon as she came in, leaving her no choice but to stifle her giggles.
“Okay, I’m gonna need you to bunch up your shirt a bit and loosen your belt as much as you can so I have some room to work with, alright?” she asked him as she walked back to the table beside him, putting on some black latex gloves from the drawer.
“Alrighty,” he sang as he did exactly that, standing up briefly and turning around as he adjusted the tightness of his belt and the height of his underwear. “No peaking,” he teased with his back towards her.
She scoffed at his words, but she could not help thinking, ‘You think he saw me staring?’ Because where usually she didn’t care about such a thing, she felt the need to keep everything strictly business.
After he was done he sat back down in his previous spot.
“Could you lay back for me?” she asked politely as he gave her a little salute as he followed her command.
“Yes, ma’am,” he joked as he followed her orders once again. She scoffed to hide her smirk at the nickname - she knew he knew what he was doing.
She moved her chair over and placed the stencil over where he wanted it, then asked him to sit up and check if the placement was all right and he assured her that it was perfect.
So without another word, she started to print the stencil onto his lower stomach.
“Tss-” Jake hissed slightly as she rubbed the drawing onto his skin which made her head flick up to him.
“Cold?” she chuckled, assuming his noise was due to the gel used to transfer the image.
However, Jake cursed himself internally for his reaction. “Nah, it’s all good,” he replied honestly. He thanked God he managed to play it off because he truly didn’t know what caused it - perhaps it was her hands touching him so delicately…
“Okay, you ready?” she asked as she picked up the gun, dipping it in the ink and moving it closer to where she would start.
“As I’ll ever be,” he said cockily as he put his hands behind his head.
So she counted down from three and got to work. But something she noticed was that when the needle pierced his skin his breath hitched.
And he was typically good with pain, but this was something different.
“Does it hurt?” she chuckled, not stopping as she angled her head to the side to look up at him, making him deny it quickly.
As she continued tattooing she tried her best to tune out the slight huffs and groans coming from the man below her hands, and instead focussed on asking him questions.
“So, what do you do for a living?” she asked casually as she stared only at her work.
This gave him the opportunity to look at her instead, watching her skilled hands draw such perfect lines. “Oh,” he wondered how in-depth he should go with his answer, “I do YouTube, I make some music too.”
“Yo, what? Awesome!” she said excitedly, “You’ve gotta be pretty good to live out here in the Hills.”
He laughed slightly, “I’m alright,” he stayed humble as to not come off cocky. “What about you-” he started but kicked himself immediately after he said it.
She laughed this time, looking up to meet his eyes, “What do you think?” she held up the gun.
“But you’d think this would be easier by now,” she mentioned, “you chose the most awkward angle in the world for me to work with.” She was half-joking, but she also tried to readjust her arm positioning on his torso to make it easier.
“Sorry,” he chuckled as he watched her struggle, he was going to suggest something to make it easier, but he decided against it.
As she kept going he had to keep telling him to stop fidgeting because he would squirm and move practically every two seconds, but he swore it wasn’t hurting that bad.
As he kept apologising and they kept making small talk she butted in with another question, “You’re not from around here, are you?” She didn’t want to sound rude, but she could not focus on anything else but that hint of country in this alt boy’s accent.
“Nicely noticed,” he praised with a hum, “I’m from Kansas in the midwest, out in the sticks and the mud!” he put on a heavy country-boy voice as he said it, making her cough out a laugh.
“What about you?” he flipped the question back on her.
“Born and raised,” she smiled sarcastically. She’d always wished to go somewhere else but never had the chance. “I’ve lived in this same area my whole life. Still live in a house just down the road,” she shrugged and nodded in the direction she meant, returning to focus on her work.
“Oh yeah? D’ya live with your boyfriend…?” he asked slyly, slightly hesitant but he figured it could just be an innocent question. And while she wasn’t looking at his face she could practically sense the smirk on his beautifully plump lips.
She bit the inside of her cheek as she tilted her head and replied, “I don’t have a boyfriend, I live alone.” she clarified.
“Hm,” he replied simply as he laid his head back again.
“What about you then?” she started the conversation back up, “Live alone?”
“Nope,” as soon as he spoke her heart dropped, shit. Was she misreading all of this?
“I’ve got two roommates, but no girlfriend,” he said confidently, making Y/n’s heart rate go back to normal.
God, he was good.
“Hm,” she mimicked his response in him same tone and carried on.
But after a couple minutes of surprisingly comfortable silence, while they both listened to the music playing through the speakers, she piped up again. “Ugh,” she exclaimed, making Jake open his eyes and look back down at her as she moved her chair back and forth, “you really did choose the most awkward place for me to tattoo! You know that?” she complained light-heartedly with a laugh at her inability to find the right position. “It’s hard for me to reach across like this,” she demonstrated the tricky angle for him to see.
“You keep saying that,” he laughed deeply and then went quiet once more, but when she looked up at him she saw that the cogs in his brain were spinning rapidly.
“You know,” he started, making Y/n turn her attention back to him as he spoke, “you could always just sit here,” he nodded his head down to his legs and her eyes followed.
He said it. He finally said what he had been thinking for the past 30 or so minutes.
“Uh… what?” Y/n said nervously.
There was no going back now.
“You heard me,” he smiled, trying his best to stop his lips from curling up into more of a smirk so as to not intimidate her, but he definitely knew he wasn’t alone in feeling like he was. “Listen, it doesn’t have to be weird, it just might be easier for you, yeah?”
She thought about it, she really really did, but she knew she couldn’t.
“I’m sorry, it would be unprofessional of me,” she said, still trying to convince herself not to just straddle his lap right there and then, having to look away from him because she knew that if he looked at her one more time with those puppy-eyes it would be a whole different story.
“I assure you it doesn’t have to be,” he persuaded. That voice of his smooth like silk - the most enchanting, compelling silk ever spun.
She bit her lip and took a deep breath in, then she looked at the camera in the corner of the room. No one else saw the footage but her, it’s not like she would lose her job.
Fuck it.
“Fuck it,” she said as she climbed on, carefully placing a knee on either side of his long legs and leaning forward to test how the new angle worked for her.
“Better?” he responded in a ‘told-you-so’ type of way - he was getting cockier by the second now he had gotten what he wanted.
She got back to work and looked up at him this time through her lashes, flicking some hair out of her face, “It is, actually.”
She noticed the way he looked down at her every now and again and recognised what went on behind his dark brown eyes - but she paid no attention. Y/n figured that the best course of action was to act as if this was a perfectly normal day and that she did this with every client.
She didn’t.
Her best efforts were put into ignoring his burning stare, and his gorgeous hair, and his perfect nose, and his sexy smile; his arms, his revealed torso that she was constantly touching; him.
But he, on the other hand, used her beauty as a way to distract from the pain of the relentless needle piercing his skin. Her face, her eyes, the expression she made when she concentrated, her body on him.
And time flew, meaning that in what felt like too soon, it was done.
Y/n wiped away the final bit of ink and admired her work, scootching back so Jake could sit up a bit and see for himself, “What do you think?” she asked nervously, as it was always a bit scary showing clients what you’ve etched into their bodies for life.
He shuffled up to have a good look at it, then at her, then back at his stomach. “It’s…” he drew it out, “Perfect!”
A wave of relief washed over Y/n as she sighed, noticing Jake’s line of sight had been aimed at her again.
“Thank you, Y/n,” he said sincerely.
She just smiled, listening to the way her name fell off his lips like it had been waiting on the edge for a lifetime. But then she looked down and realised that she was still practically sitting on his guy’s lap, so she quickly scrambled off and stood next to the bed again, going to fetch a ‘second skin’ from her drawer.
Jake could not help but feel a little disappointed when she seemed so desperate to get it all over with. The last thing he wanted was to have made her at all uncomfortable.
But she wasn’t. As soon as she came back and put the protective layer over his tattoo she looked up at him again from her chair, “You’re very welcome.”
They both made their way back into the main room, smiling and laughing with each other as they continued talking, but in the cold outside room, the burning hot rope of tension that tied them together became even more astoundingly apparent.
She tried to break the tie by going behind the till, leaving him on the other side.
His total appeared on the screen and he paid. He actually paid a lot more than he should have, not taking his eyes off her even once as he did so.
“It was nice meeting you, Y/n,” he said somewhat solemnly. He knew he was most likely going to see her again, this definitely wouldn’t be his last tattoo, but it felt akin to saying goodbye to a loved one, even though they had only been in each other's presence for less than a few hours.
“Have a good rest of your day, Jake,” she returned, a similar feeling rising within her, but she couldn’t let that through to the surface.
And just like that, he was turning around and walking out of the store, walking away from her as she watched him from the back as he left.
Both of their stomachs turned as they suddenly felt incomplete, like there was something left to do but now they’ll never have the chance to do it. It was crazy how before today they had never realised there was a hole in both of their lives to fill until it had been satisfied for the first time. Yet, their time together had been so brief in the bigger scheme of things.
Jake would not let that slide.
As he was halfway down the stairs something in his brain set off an alarm and she shot back up the stairs and back up to the desk, catching her just before she walked away.
What’s the worst that can happen?
What’s the best?
“Oh,” she turned and saw him again, slightly surprised, “did you leave something?”
“Yes,” he said very quickly. “No,” he threw in shortly after, shaking his head rather frantically, leaving her slightly confused and letting out a chuckle.
“Do you think I could…” he clenched his teeth and decided that he would regret not shooting his shot if he left now, so he told himself to just come out and say it.
“Do you think I could get your number?” he blurted out, a hopeful glint in his eyes that made her body react with a physical response.
But she couldn’t, this was her job, and she could get in a lot of trouble, even as the manager. “I-” she stuttered, not knowing what to say, and then took a breath. “I’m sorry but it would be wrong, I’m at work,” she sighed, and he could clearly see that’s not what she truly wanted either.
At least he had done it now and he wouldn’t have to live his life in wonder. “That’s alright,” he said half-heartedly, but trying his best to play it cool.
But he decided to try just once more.
“Uh,” he started again, making her gaze fix back on him. God, those eyes of hers - he had the feeling they could settle wars with just a glance if they let her. “What if I asked you after your shift?” he proposed, crossing his fingers behind his back, praying to whatever was out there that she would just say yes.
And as he asked again something within her screamed at her, ‘Just say yes!’, a doubt inside her was settled and happiness took its place, but she remained collected. She tried to stop the smile from rising on her lips, but as she spoke it was audible in her voice, “It would still be unprofessional,” she started and watched as his face dropped, so she quickly finished her sentence, “But… I get off at 7.”
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my first ever fic ! hope you guys enjoyed, comment if you wanna see part 2 i’ve already got it all planned out.
all requests taken in my bio !! xx
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fatuismooches · 4 months
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omg i just read a bunch of your work and it’s all so good???? it’s so rare to find imagines fanfic writers that are so clearly passionate about their work and it’s so awesome anyways i have a request !! i absolutely love your frail reader stuff… my health is kinda shit too so it’s really nice to read !! could i ask for dottore trying to attach an IV or help them but they’re scared of needles? dottore realizing they’re not scared of *him* but of just . the needle . and also being really really sweet and gentle while checking everything like vitals and whatnot since being checked up by a doctor puts them on edge usually . BASICALLY i’d looove to see dottore being sweet while working with a patient as opposed to . how he usually is 😭
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Dottore is a man who finds himself fascinated by many things. Most obviously, his research. His experiments. The limits of a human being, the stars of this world, the truth of Teyvat. How far he could push himself and others to satiate his curiosity. 
And last but certainly not least, you, his darling.
…Who was now huddled in the corner of his lab, refusing to move. Why? Because it was time for you to receive your first shot. You had only recently woken up from sleeping for four hundred years, so he stuck to other forms of medicine rather than needles in the beginning. But it had gotten to the point where needle injections were necessary for your health. However, you certainly didn’t find this new information pleasing. 
You’d peek out, see him with that large pointy grin with a needle in hand, and then try to inch even closer to the wall as if you were trying to disappear into it as you whimpered. Now, Dottore finds you predictable and unpredictable at the same time. Predictable because being with you for centuries has certainly allowed his mind to adapt and memorize all of your little quirks and possible reactions. Unpredictable because there are always times he finds himself surprised and then mildly exasperated at your behavior. But that’s what he likes about you. You’re not a boring doll like his other test subjects.
But this reaction… once again, he supposes he expected it but he didn’t at the same time. Funnily enough, Dottore is no stranger to your little tantrums when it comes to taking care of your health. Some kind of bizarre reaction from you wasn’t out of the question because he remembers the first time you ran away from taking your medicine.
When you realized your life would consist of daily checkups, your body constantly being hooked up to a lot of different things you really didn’t understand, and a whole bunch of other changes, you thought you could do it. You really did. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it was scary and confusing and you cried at how different you were now but, you were getting through every day and that was what mattered.
However, ironically, your greatest enemy in life became medicine.
You should be grateful really, to have Dottore as your doctor. Although he certainly wasn’t a doctor to his other “patients”, he most definitely was to you. And he was a terrific one - attentive beyond human capability (not even including his segments), skilled, knowledgeable, adaptable, and attractive was also a good bonus. Hell, if it were anyone else besides him, you’d long be dead.
But one thing you absolutely despise is his talent for making the hardest-to-swallow medicine known to mankind.
Dottore had given you lots of different types of medicine since you woke up, experimenting with which was the most efficient. Although he did study how other bodies reacted to it before it entered your own system, it really didn’t spare you any pain because you always ended up dreading it. It wasn’t fun, no, but you had accepted it as your routine. 
Pills weren’t fun, but at least they were a quick swallow after you finished hyping yourself up to drink it. And, they were small or medium-sized. No biggie, right? But then came one time when you were utterly tricked. When Dottore presented you with medicine that you could drink easily rather than a pill, you were ecstatic.  
The syrup medicine was a nice color and looked like it would taste fine! But no, you should have known that the Doctor was a deceiving son of a- you get the point. The medicine tasted absolutely horrible, violating your taste buds. You would have spat it out, but it was already almost down your throat. You were genuinely thankful that medicine ended up being unhelpful to you because you don’t think you could have managed to swallow that every day.
Despite how every time you moaned and whined about it, you would steel yourself and take it anyway because you didn’t want to make Dottore’s life any harder, with how diligently he was working on these medicines solely for your sake.
But at one point, you just couldn’t take it anymore. What caused you to snap?
A pill that Dottore presented to you, that looked big even on his large hand. He had looked at you expectantly, while you looked at him incredulously, as your lover then placed it in your hand and set the glass of water to the side for you.
Okay [Name], you’ve endured all these trials so far. Surely you can handle this? You took a deep breath, slowly working up the courage to swallow it as Dottore waited, curiously looking at you. With a burst of energy, you brought it to your mouth, intent on gulping it, but stopped last minute. Your bravery had left you, as you brought the pill back to the table again. There was no way, just no way that was going in your throat without getting stuck. Just the thought of it was making you feel sick and anxious.
“I’m not doing it.” Dottore sighed.
“We’ve been through this countless times, [Name],” he shook his head as he walked to his desk, prepared to gather some things to work on because he was familiar with your agonizing long waits of trying to force yourself to drink your medicine. “Either you take it yourself, or I will be more than happy to help you myself.” The methods Dottore takes to “help” you take your medicine can be left up to the imagination.
“You won’t need to help me… because I’m not drinking that!” In a flash, you had bolted out the door, leaving the doctor alone in the room, blinking and processing what just happened before he rubbed his temples. Never, not once have you run away from taking medicine. Yes, you whined and begged him to let you skip it, just for one day (which he never indulged you in) but in the end, you’d always give in to your fate. Dottore walked over and picked up the pill, examining it. Was it really that bad?
Well, no matter. You’ll end up taking it anyway. His harshness comes from a good place at least, it is for your own sake after all.
Although you did put up a good fight, you never really had any chance of escaping in the first place, considering your rather poor health and stamina (and this is Dottore after all, no one gets away from him). But you just needed to put off that blasted medicine for a while longer, which was why you found yourself in your current situation.
In a stand-off with Omega, who had come to collect you and bring you back to Prime’s office, so you could finally take the pill. Beta was there too, as he was supposed to be helping, but he looked to be amused by the whole thing. Pointy teeth showed through as he watched the whole show, hands in his pockets. 
The “show” in question was how you were hiding behind a random Fatui agent, using the poor man as a shield, his soul definitely having left his body by now. Every time the segment tried to come closer, you’d physically move the agent’s body to block him from you. And well, even they couldn’t just kill the man like that. It would be quite funny, were it not for the fact that Omega was beginning to grow impatient and mildly annoyed that the other Fatuis were watching this go down. Not to mention the back and forth you two were having about how important it was for you to take the pill, versus your numerous arguments as to why you weren’t. Beta was just there cackling at the older segment’s predicament. But then all of a sudden, Omega backed off with a smile, giving you a chance to escape once again. Yes, you turned around, ready to dash for it, and then ran right into a solid wall.
There Prime Dottore stood, looking down at you with an unamused expression, at this little cat and mouse game. He didn’t really want to show this level of affection to you in front of the other agents, but he had no choice but to grab you and pick you up in his arms so you couldn’t run away anymore.
The other Fatuis could only stare at the scene, you kicking and flailing your arms, vehemently repeating how you weren’t going to drink that blasted thing, and about how evil and cruel he was. Eventually, he was able to make you swallow the pill, with the help of his other segments holding you down.
In the end, he had to ditch that pill because the struggle and tears you put up after that just weren’t worth it when there were better alternatives.
However, at least this time you didn’t run away. Instead, perhaps you thought holing up miserably in the corner would somehow make him sympathize with you and that he wouldn’t give you the needle. Unfortunately, you were incorrect. Dottore’s patients are to receive whatever treatment he deems necessary, even if it is you. Nevertheless, you are indeed a special patient. A special patient who receives special treatment, both medically and emotionally. So, it does make him feel a tiny bit sorry for you, seeing how scared you were. 
Though a part of him wonders, are you truly that afraid of a mere needle? Perhaps because he works with it every day, he cannot see how it could cause that much nervousness. Was it because of how he used it on others? Of course, you were no stranger to his less-than-ethical experiments on other people. But surely you knew that you wouldn’t be subjected to such conduct? Dottore ponders for a little while as you continue to crouch in fear. He wonders if he taught Zandy how to use the needle if that would make it less scary for you. But on second thought, you would probably get mad at him for trying to do that to his child segment.
But regardless of what either of you thought, you were getting that injection.
“[Name],” For once, his voice isn’t the normal tone that he takes on when you’re being difficult. So you lift your head and your eyes peek out from your knees as you pout at him. Dottore had set the needle to the side and walked closer to you, reaching his hand out to you, expecting you to get up and take it. With a sigh, you acquiesce and clasp your hand with his as he pulls you from the ground. Though you keep your eyes on the floor and your shoulders drooped, because you know that your fate is imminent. But Dottore tilts your chin so you’re forced to look up at him anyway.
“Why are you so insistent on acting like this?” Your partner questions.
“Because needles are scary,” you whine.
“But I am the one administering it. Nothing will happen.”
“Well, obviously I trust you,” you sigh in defeat. “I know you’d never hurt me. But that doesn’t make needles any less scary. And no matter what you say, I know I’ll still feel that prick of pain! I really don’t want it, Zandik!” You look up at him with pleading eyes. His fingers stroking your hair feels nice but it does little to relieve you of your anxiety. At that, Dottore merely stares for a few seconds before he pulls you to the operating table and helps you up. Well, at least you attempted to change his mind, you thought as you resigned yourself to the pain. You squeeze your eyes and tense your body, preparing for the inevitable prick, but instead, you feel hands slipping down your shirt and cool metal being pressed against your chest. Your eyes pop open as you turn to narrow your eyebrows at Dottore.
“What about the needle?”
“Forget about it. I will handle it another day,” Dottore waves off your concern, and all the stiffness in your body releases. Oh, you were so, so grateful. 
“Now breathe in for me,” Dottore requested. “And out. In. Out.” You did what he asked and he hummed as he recorded your heart rate or whatever he usually does, before moving to your back and repeating the same process. You liked how his hands felt on your body. They weren’t rough, uncharacteristically gentle even. Even though right now it was just professional procedures, it felt comforting. His hands always felt comforting.
Now that you think about it, although it sounds entirely untrue, Dottore was… the only doctor you had good experiences with. When you were a kid, you really didn’t like them. They usually… put you on edge. Unlike most children, the promise of candy did little to stop you from getting antsy during a check-up, and even the nicest doctors had their patience tested. But Dottore and the segments, well, despite their… tendencies, they did make you feel a lot better with your condition and all. It was really nice, to have people who wouldn’t give up on you or your health since you’ve been given up on in the past.
“I’ve heard that Alpha has been showing you the collection of Khaenri’ahn machines lately,” Dottore’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. He was fiddling with the variety of tools he used for the check-up.
“Hm? Oh yeah, we have!” Dottore moved to examine both ears as you spoke. “I mean, studying Teyvat’s new language all the time gets so boring. So I just make him show me the cool stuff during breaks!” Although Zandik’s fascination with the machines was much greater than yours in the Akademiya, his enthusiasm had rubbed off on you too and you found yourself intrigued as well. One thing that had never changed though, was his habit of dumping all his thoughts on you. Seriously, once you got Alpha talking, he wouldn’t stop until every detail of his research had been covered. It was cute. It reminded you of how Zandik used to do the same thing late at night.
“Is that so?” Dottore had moved to check your eye, shining the light at it.
“Mhm! You know, seeing all the things you know now, makes me think back to how much you searched for answers all those years ago. Pushing and pulling me all those places,” you smiled, thinking about how you were always dragged to all parts of Sumeru for him to quench his thirst by hopefully obtaining fruitful results from the expeditions. It was tiring, but good times. You wished you could go back. Dottore then tapped your lips and you opened your mouth as he briefly examined it before returning to his clipboard. For some reason, you feel as though this check-up is dragging on a lot more than usual, but you didn’t really question it because why would you question spending more time with your beloved?
“Yes, and you never failed to complain, did you? You grumbled more than you spoke about the data,” Dottore replied as he continued to do whatever other tests on you before he pulled up your sleeve to wrap the cuff around your arm to check your blood pressure. You rolled your eyes.
“You’re lying! I always engaged in conversation with our research,” you stuck your tongue out at him. “I always pulled my weight! Maybe you were too busy mumbling to yourself and spilling ink everywhere instead of listening to me.” Zandik had a habit of that. Getting too lost in his thoughts and leaving you to babble like an idiot when he wasn’t even paying attention. Dottore only chuckled as he continued to work, pumping the device. You didn’t even notice that he was also preparing a needle with his other hand, because you continued to ramble on.
“And you know what, you were always far worse. In the beginning, you were either talking about research all the time, or complaining about others, or complaining about me.” Just because Dottore was all suave and smooth and poised now didn’t mean you forgot about how much he was not anything of those things back then! The more you reminisced about it, the memories of being slightly infuriated by his attitude came rushing back. So much so that you didn’t register the cuff being swiftly removed from your arm, nor the feeling of Dottore adjusting your arm and the prick of something being injected into you. 
“And!! Pantalone always tells me how much you complain to him about not only the budget but also a wide variety of things! And Bina too, I’ve heard numerous stories of those poor agents falling victim to you, hmph,” you awaited a response but Dottore didn’t humor you like he usually did. So you turned to look at him, but instead, he was carefully placing a bandage on you. You blinked once at the sight, then at him, and then at the empty needle on the tray, the contents empty. It didn’t take long for your brain to process what happened.
“You… you tricked me! You said I wasn’t going to get the needle!” You fussed but Dottore only smirked, his sharp shark-like teeth on display.
“Yes, I did. But it doesn’t matter now, does it? Did you feel any pain?”
“Well…” He was right, you didn’t feel a thing. With all the conversation and his quick yet efficient fingers, the needle didn’t hurt. Ugh, so that was Dottore’s plan… getting you all riled up and distracted so he could finish the job. It was sneaky… but as you tenderly brushed the injection site that was a little sore, you were oddly touched… it was sweet. He didn’t need to go out of his way to do this. Really, another large pill situation could have happened.
“No, you didn’t,” Dottore finished the sentence for you before rolling down your sleeve and cleaning up the area. “There was no need for such drama in the first place. I told you that it would be fine.” You pouted at his bluntness. It was a bit mean, but he lived up to his word. You should have expected that. He always does, when it comes to you. “You have to stay here for a bit. I need to see if the shot will have any immediate adverse effects on you.”
“O-Okay,” you replied, still a bit dazed by how Dottore managed to do that. You wondered, just… how quick were his hands?? Then he placed a kiss on your lips, catching you off guard once again, but he pulled away before you could reciprocate. Ah, it was probably his way of saying ‘well done.’
“H-Hey, don’t just walk away! I deserve more kisses for the ordeal I just went through! Come back here!”
Dottore ended up giving you lots of kisses everywhere as he pinned you down on the operating table. If all check-ups ended like this one did, well, you’d look forward to them a lot more…
Bonus:
“Dottore?”
“Yes, [Name]?”
“Can you make them… gummy?”
“Make what gummy?” A few seconds of staring at you makes it click in his head. “No.”
“Please!!” Immediately you pull out your best pleading eyes with a pouting lip, having no shame in dropping to your knees and wrapping your arm around his leg in the tightest grip you could muster. “Please, if it were gummies instead of actual pills or needles, I’d never complain!” Dottore sighs, trying to shake you off but to no avail. It seems you’re dead set on this. 
“At least some of them, please, I’ll do anything.” By this point, your face is buried into his leg, all but begging for him to make medicine that is gummy. It was so ridiculous it would make him laugh, but the idea of him and his segments having to not go through the unthinkable in order for you to take your medicine is honestly quite appealing to the doctor.
“Alright,” he complies, which causes you to shoot up from the ground and grasp his hands with glee. “I will experiment to see what I can do.” You smile widely before thanking him profusely and kissing his cheeks and then his lips. Although he enjoys your affection, Dottore finds himself wondering if you’re okay yourself, because who gets this excited over gummies for medicine? And then he hears your next question.
“Can you make them different flavors too? And oh, gummy bear-shaped too! By the way, my favorite flavor is-”
“[Name].”
“I’m sorry.”
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moonlight-prose · 25 days
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KISS ME ONCE
a/n: i am so late with even starting this and i don't expect to finish, but i still wanted to contribute something. so this is the first fic for the moon knight bingo hosted by @moonknight-events. some of the prompts really captured my attention and i wanted to write what i could for them. i based this off yes the long long, long time, but some other jazz songs were played as i wrote. and honestly i'm obsessed with how it turned out. the divider is by the ever talented @saradika-graphics.
prompt used: butterflies
summary: dating steven grant came with its challenges. between being a superhero, sharing the body with a man you hardly knew, and his forgetfulness, you felt dizzy. so when your date goes awry, you take matters into your own hands.
word count: 1.7k+
pairing: marc spector x reader
warnings: not explicit, some soft fluff, romance, the blossoming of a relationship, flustered marc.
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Candlelight flooded the darkened flat, flickering a soft orange glow along the walls and stacks of books. It would be romantic if the frustrated bangs of a man trying to fix it wasn’t the only sound that echoed back to you. The evening had started out as a date. An attempt between you and Steven to rejoin together after weeks apart. But life continually managed to get in the way.
Problems arose one after the other. But nevertheless this is where you found yourselves. Sitting at the small table, candles scattered throughout the space, and the soft sound of jazz coming from the record player in the corner. And just as he poured you a glass of red wine—the power went out.
“It’s alright. Really.”
“I’ve almost got it.” A very American voice called back to you.
Steven—the man you adored—had no clue what the fuck to do in a situation such as a this. The radiator should have been easy enough to turn back on, but by the sounds it seemed that there was nothing but difficulty. Which is how Marc—the man you barely spoke to—wound up crashing your date.
It’s not that you didn’t want to speak to him. Get to know him. You just rarely found yourself with the chance. Between him and Steven being whisked away consistently, you barely had time to speak to Steven. Yet there you were, in your best outfit, candlelight illuminating the flat, and wine poured into two separate glasses. And Marc was acting as if you weren’t there.
He was helping. You knew that, but there was nothing that could be done. At least not right now.
“Are you hungry?”
The question must have thrown him off guard; his head peeking out from the bottom of the radiator. His eyes quickly caught sight of you standing there—hope shimmering in your eyes. A look that was usually only reserved for Steven. A look he’d longed to see directed at him one day. But Marc—ever the stubborn man Steven made him out to be—looked away as fast as he started.
“No I’m alright honey.” His eyes flicked back to you briefly before settling on the mirror. A quick sigh, the tensing of his shoulders, and you knew enough.
He wanted this.
You couldn’t deny the endearment didn’t have an effect on you. In fact, it was quite surprising how your entire stomach erupted into a flurry of butterflies. They normally only arose when Steven was near. How he smiled so bright it nearly killed you, how his entire heart was worn like an accessory on his sleeve. He looked at you in awe. As if you were the very light of his life, but Marc faced you with hesitancy. With reluctance and the darkened shine of anguish in his brown eyes.
What he wanted, he could never have.
That’s what he believed. Or at least that’s what you came to understand in the short time you’d known about him. That he gave everything—all he could spare—to Steven. He sacrificed a normal life to the man who already had it; to the person he could never be.
It broke your heart in a way.
Why would he believe he could never have you too? That his life wouldn’t be intertwined with yours. Like it or not you chose Steven, and whether he knew it or not…you also chose Marc. Even if he wouldn’t allow himself to be chosen.
“We ordered dinner. Thankfully. I love Steven, but I don’t trust him in a kitchen.” Smiling, you moved to grab the container you had yet to take the food out of.
Marc flinched at the word love falling so freely from your mouth. He acted as if he’d never heard the word before. And maybe he hadn’t. Maybe someone never looked at him the way Steven looked at you. Although something told you that tonight might in fact change that. You never saw yourself falling for Steven—for anyone really—but Marc was a welcomed surprise.
“I don’t want to take Steven’s food.”
You shrugged. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind—”
“You don’t know Steven honey.”
There was that fucking word again. A rush of flutters overtook your stomach, your heart racing with the glint of annoyance in his eyes as he stared at the mirror behind you. You could practically see Steven trying to reason with him. Trying to keep Marc from ruining this night. If only the both of them could see in your mind—how you longed to get closer to Marc, to see if you could make him feel the same as you did now.
So you did.
He looked startled, stepping back a bit with his hand outstretched. The sight brought a smile to your lips.
“I want to have dinner with you Marc.”
“You’re on a date with Steven.” He sighed, eyebrows pulling together. Strange how it was so different to Steven’s frustration, so unlike the soft man you knew. “Lemme fix the radiator and you can have him back,” he muttered.
“Marc—”
“Just need a tool. Which is somewhere around here.”
“Wait—”
“And I’ll be—”
With a quick lunge, you grabbed hold of Marc’s (Steven’s) button down, pulling him close enough to feel his breath on your chin. He froze, hands hovering over your waist as you kept him there and fixed him with a look that made his heart thump loudly against his chest. That glimmer—the want—was suddenly on him. And he felt as if the breath would fly out of his lungs if he tried to make a move. He was afraid he’d scare you off.
“Eat with me.” You smiled sweet and honey like he could practically taste it on his tongue. “Don’t make me tie you to the chair just to join me.”
He huffed, his throat bobbing as he swallowed roughly. “You don’t have to do that.”
“Then you’ll stay?”
He nodded. “I’ll stay.”
“The food’s cold.” You sighed, twisting in his hold to catch a glimpse of the darkened street. “And it looks like the whole street is down.”
You never saw how his eyes lingered on your lips, how he drank you in with ease. His own tongue swiping along his bottom lip quickly, chest stuttering as he sucked in a breath. If there’s one thing Marc knew it was this—you were the most beautiful person he’d seen. He wasn’t sure how Steven found you, but suddenly he found himself thanking every god he knew of that he did.
Perhaps that’s why he relinquished control so often. Solely to keep you around. Marc ruined things. He knew this. He understood that whatever he touched came away broken, but Steven…he fixed things. He brought light to the darkness and made sure it burned bright—he saved what Marc destroyed. And Marc couldn’t destroy you.
He’d die before he broke the one thing that made everything good.
“I have an idea,” you said, joy lighting up the room.
“Hm?”
You smiled, digging into your purse for your phone, the small screen lighting up your face. It was harsh to look at after nothing but candlelight for an hour, but you managed. At least long enough to find a good playlist, a jazz one Steven made for you in the first week of dating. Songs you’d danced to time and time again. It sounded echoey and small in the flat, but you played it regardless, setting the phone on the table as you reached for Marc.
“Dance with me?”
He stuttered this time. “W-What?”
“Dance with me.”
“Baby I’m not much of a dancer…”
Sighing, you pulled him close, your hand sliding into his. “That’s okay.” You felt him shudder slightly at the way your hand slid on his shoulder, your body pressed against his. “I’m not either.”
Marc knew that was a lie. He’d caught glimpses of moments between you and Steven. The soft love you both shared. It made him ache in ways he couldn’t describe with words, and maybe this was going too far. Maybe Steven would be pissed when he finally came back, but Marc refused to feel sorry for this. He wouldn’t apologize for loving you. Because there was nothing to apologize for—not when you felt so right in his arms.
He managed to sway gently with you, his feet shuffling—albeit a bit clumsily—along the hardwood floor. You didn’t notice. At least if you did, you never said anything. The music hummed a soft tune behind you, the yellow glow of the candles casting shadows across your supple skin. And Marc felt the ground vanish from beneath him.
How could someone be as perfect as you?
“I’m thinking we should go to the Italian restaurant on Friday.”
Flutters overtook his entire body. “Friday sounds good.”
You smiled, resting your head on his shoulder gently. As if you were entirely at ease, planning dates with him like this had happened before. Marc did what he could to be the same. This was normal. This life, this flat, this…relationship. It belonged to him in a way; he just hadn’t seen it.
“We can go walking afterwards,” you said, your words soft—your breath washing across his neck and causing goosebumps to form. “See the moon.”
He smiled. “I see too much of the moon.”
“Then we go during the day.” Marc wrapped his arm tighter around your waist, daring to rest his hand a bit lower. You shivered at the touch. “See the sun instead.”
Marc realized then why Steven loved you, why he fought to keep you in his life. You gave all of yourself in a way he might never be able to. You jumped in wholeheartedly, with a smile on your face. Consequences be damned. And like the lights finally came back on in the apartment, he realized why he loved you. Steven—the man meant to protect him for his entire life—was an exact reflection of you.
You wore your heart on your sleeve just as he did.
You loved fiercely, hoped endlessly, and gave your entire soul to the one you chose.
Whether he liked it or not…you chose him too. Even if he couldn’t give over all of himself. Yet.
“Okay,” he murmured, resting his head gently against yours. “We’ll see the sun.”
216 notes · View notes
zuyoo · 1 month
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linger, one-shot. ﹙ nagi & gn!reader ﹚ 비애
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CONTENT WARNING — clueless nagi, (open-ended) angst, misleading actions, images used are not face claims but rather used as a reference to visualize a scenario. enjoy reading !!!! :D
SYNOPSIS — you’re in love with your best friend, nagi seishiro, who is oblivious of your feelings but treats you well more than just a friend
ZUYOO’S NOTES — noOOoO 10 images limit on tumblr mobile app ( ꒦ິ ཀ ꒦ິ ) word count is probably a little over 1000 if not more than that.. ok ily enjoy reading MWAAA
p.s. i love u, everyone who leaves feedback and/or reactions with all my life :DD it just makes me feel so motivated in writing, thank you all sm!!
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it started with one message, which lead to another… then another… then more. you two instantly clicked right after being attending the same club in your university. you’ve seen him before, and thought that he looked hard to approach—since he’s always on his phone, barely talks, and is always either practicing, in class, or out of reach (in his dorm)
you two grew close after talking about similar interests, and it didn’t take too long for you to develop feelings for him. i mean… how could you not when he has treated you way better than any other man who’s walked out of you life?
he messages you on a daily basis, doesn’t hesitate to come over and take care of you when you tell him that you aren’t feeling well, treats you to meals, drives you home, tries new hobbies because you told him you like those.
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nagi has the looks, the talent, the brain, the skill, the body that a girl could ask for. you’re simply lucky enough to be near his presence—and oh boy how all the girls that see you two together makes you feel it.
their glares and side glances sharp as a knife, it gave you goosebumps all over. but you eventually paid no mind to their stares, the only thing that mattered at the moment is how you’d spend your day with nagi!
it’s been three years since your first interaction with him, and you two haven’t changed a thing. take it with a grain of salt. yes, you two still teach each other the way you think, and no, he is not your anything—just a friend.
he’s such a fish to catch that you’re surprised why he’s still not seeing anyone at this point. maybe there was some point that you’ve thought about how there could be possibility that he could like you the way you like him, which is stopping him from seeing anyone else.
or maybe his actions has raised your hopes up and made you delusional. how could you know? you’ve been friends for three whole years now, yet you still can’t read him.
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he left you on delivered? that’s new. well- it was bound to happen. it’s not like he’s obligated to reply or at least leave a reaction… right? right. you’re his best friend. nothing more, nothing less.
but what could he be doing? it’s a sunday. he doesn’t have practice, and the term just started. he couldn’t have had any assessments he needed to finish.
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your questions were quickly answered once you’ve opened up your twitter app and found someone unfamiliar in your timeline.
“pfft—this happens all the time.” you say. “and they’re always fake.”
and how you wished you were right.
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“oh.” was everything you could let out, as if that one tweet didn’t break your heart into pieces. you were glad he’s finally seeing someone—but at the same time, you had hoped that it was just a misunderstanding, that he’s actually maggy’s cousin… or something! just not her suitor. even though the signs are as clear a day.
it was petty, and this- this will hurt you, and it’ll hurt bad. so you had no other choice but to try and distance yourself away from him as much as possible, to save yourself and to respect who he’s been seeing. it was for the better… but—he was making it hard.
nagi’s completely clueless!
you didn’t know whether to laugh it out because of how oblivious he is. does he not realize what he’s doing to you?
at this point, you start to realize how none of it was your fault in the first place. you couldn’t control you feelings, and it certainly didn’t help that nagi treats you way too well.
even so, you could never blame him. it could just be in his nature, to be kind, lovable, and to be the pinnacle of a girl’s dream. and you were the one at fault because you’re taking advantage of his kindness to satisfy your curiosity regarding what it felt like being handled with genuine care, only for it to backfire—seeing that you actually fell for him big time.
still, that wasn’t your first train of thought when you met him. you genuinely wanted to be friends because he seemed like a cool guy. it just so happens that your heart begun to agitate more and more everyday when you’re with him.
or maybe it was maggy’s fau—oh my god, make up your mind, yn!!
“let’s not put the blame on everyone. whatever happened, happened. none of it matters now. i just have to get myself out of this mess… then i’ll be back to same, old me. right.” you thought to yourself.
you have been ignoring nagi for the past three days, leaving him on delivered, and practically scrambling away when you see him in the hallways—or everywhere, actually.
did you tell him why you’re doing this? no, why would you?
does he care? a lot, as a friend, most likely.
he’s been trying to reach you for the past 3 days, while you were off running everywhere but to the places you and nagi went to together, which is hard because you’ve both been to every cafe, every movie theater, every arcade, every mall your city could offer.
there was this one place you two haven’t been in yet. it was perfect for admiring the view below, or simply a place to just clear your mind.
you planned on going there after classes were over, and it made you quite excited. you were supposed to go here with nagi but… you know, things happened. nonetheless, you wanted to enjoy this, even if it meant not being able to bring nagi with you.
after class ended, you bid your farewell to your friends before getting into a cab and going to the rooftop lounge that recently just opened.
you opened the door that leads to the lounge and was surprised by what greeted you at the door.
it was nagi, with maggy. their hands intertwined as they admire the city.
ouch. seeing them like that felt like ten thousand trains running me over.
you were about to leave when you heard her call for your name. you froze on the spot, a course of thoughts ran through your brain on whether to run for it, or play a good face and not ignore her calls.
“y/n! come join us.”
you made the decision to turn around and approach them instead… she waved and smiled at you. god—how can you make such a lovely woman?!
it was too late to run anyways, you felt their eyes on you when you froze by the door, it would be far too embarrassing to just leave with them knowing that you heard maggy call for you.
“hey, i couldn’t reach you.”
nagi greeted. you briefly glanced into his eyes and gave him a smile before breaking eye contact. you could barely look into his eyes—you might burst out crying if you stare any longer.
“i was busy.”
you replied, dryly. you really were busy; busy with assessments, busy distracting yourself from your feelings, busy doing whatever it takes to forget about nagi… but if you two keep meeting like this—and if he keeps trying to talk to you, it will pose a challenge for you to fully move on.
why do you have to let it linger? you ask him in your mind as if he could read it. his constant concern for your wellbeing, his actions towards you, his daily messages checking up on whether you’ve eaten your meals yet—why does he have to let your feelings for him linger?
unknowingly, sure. but has he have not a single clue on why you’ve been distancing yourself? on why you haven’t been hanging around much?
you missed him, really. but this was the perfect distance for you both. he can keep reaching out until the day he gets sick of it; but as much as you want to respond to him, you can’t—you shouldn’t.
the following months were practically the hell. you’ve completely cut off contact with him (you ghosted him, basically) and was buried in a never-ending cycle of homework and projects, leaving no time for anything else.
when the semester ended, your friend, bachira, invited you to his party. he noticed that you were completely restless and said that you needed to loosen up a little.
it was 12 in the evening but the party has just begun—you could consider yourself a fan of staying at home in my comfy pajamas and old indie movies, rather than a party ‘til sunrise & drink ‘til you drop type of person… which lead you to excusing yourself out of the room with flashing lights and booming music to find somewhere else more peaceful to drink.
you found yourself on a huge balcony with a red cup on your hand. thank the gods that the doors muffles out the noise coming from the inside.
this was just right. and honestly what you needed. all that workload from the past few weeks has been killing you.
what you didn’t expect was for someone to break the silence you gave yourself.
“it was about time i saw you again. and out of all the places i thought i would see you in, a party was not one of them.”
nagi spoke nonchalantly. his sudden interjection jolted you out of your own thoughts. it’s been about six months since you’ve broke off contact with him. hell, you could barely remember his voice.
“oh fuc-… ah. i’m sorry- i should find another place.”
“no. stay. you owe me an explanation.”
maybe it was just you, but given where this conversation is headed… he sounded intimidating. his voice didn’t change much, perhaps it didn’t change at all, but you heard the sharpness of his words and felt the need to comply to whatever he says.
“sorry.”
“sorry doesn’t cut it, y’know?”
he lightly chuckled before mixing his drink around his own red cup that he brought.
“right… sorry. but, how are you? how’s maggy?”
“ah. it didn’t work out. she’s nice but it really isn’t working out for us.”
“oh. sorry.”
that was a surprise. you thought they’d still be all lovey-dovey with each other. maggy is a lovely girl, what could’ve gotten wrong?
“another apology and i’ll keep bothering you. you wouldn’t like that won’t you? considering how you’ve completely ghosted me for 6 months without an explanation or even a subtle hint of why you did it? right?”
“hey-!”
okay… maybe he hasn’t changed that much. he still holds his grudges. nagi broke eye contact and looked up to the moon with this… yearning look on his face—he looked so pretty, it was pathetic!!
a sigh left your lips before nervously starting to explain you side, since you felt like he really needed to know why. plus, it was a good chance to let go of that burden.
maybe a confession was nagi’s needed closure, and your way of letting go of the guilt of knowing you’ve randomly disappeared in his life without him even knowing anything.
“i like… liked. you, nagi. more than a friend should’ve.”
“what?”
his actions came to a halt. oh, he was THAT clueless
“aha—yeah… but then there came maggy. she was such a lovely person, and i know you deserved to be loved like that. i should’ve been happy for you, but i really couldn’t bring myself to. it hurts seeing my best friend whom i’ve liked for the longest time smile because of a person they’re romantically involved with, y’know?”
you weren’t able to find the strength to look at him as you explained, but it felt like a weight was lifted off of your shoulders after.
“i-”
“no, don’t say anything. i just really needed to let that out… for your sake, and mine. i also wanted to thank you. y’know—for everything. you’ve been a great best friend, nagi.”
“okay but-”
he didn’t get to say whatever he wanted to say because the door that leads to the party suddenly opened, revealing a tipsy bachira.
“y/n!! here you are~ and nagi too!!”
bachira gleefully said before dragging y/n back inside, leaving nagi alone in the balcony.
he watched your figure get lost in the crowd of people partying without end, saying:
“ah-… i liked you…too?”
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© zuyoo — do not copy, plagiarize, or translate my work without my permission. i only upload my work in tumblr.
315 notes · View notes
italianlobster · 3 months
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This Love pt. 2
Requested by: catiwinky
Matías Recalt x Reader x Enzo Vogrincic
Summary: You swore to yourself that you'd never fall in love again. Matías is the only man you have on your mind, but he's gone now. A Uruguayan man in his 30s sets your heart on fire and makes you want to take that risk of falling in love again.
This is more of an Enzo fanfic than Matías. =)
--
You sighed to yourself as you were busy picking up all the makeup items scattered across the tables. The filming of LSDLN was finally completed, and all that was left was editing the entire movie. Everyone cheered when the last scene was finished. You were happy too. The extensive work you put in paid off. But deep down inside, you were struggling with your love life. You would see photos of Matías and Malena together online. People had mixed feelings about the couple in the comment section, and you read all of them. You wanted to be happy for them, but you couldn't. You felt selfish for only thinking about your happiness.
Matías was happy, and so was Malena. She's not you. Why would you ruin that? You didn't want to seem like a bad friend to both. You sighed once more as these intrusive thoughts came back. You were doing well so far in the day of not thinking about the couple and just focusing on other things. A makeup brush fell off the table, and you bent down to pick it up, but another hand already picked it up. You looked up, and it was Enzo. His soft, chocolate eyes looked into yours, and he had a little smile on his face. "Oh, thank you." He handed you the makeup brush, and you took it.
You didn't know for sure if Enzo liked you or not. He always gave you special treatment compared to others. Whenever he was sad or angry and you walked into the room, it was like a cloudy sky turned into a bright sky. He immediately cheered up. He was always there for you, too. He'd give you his arm for anything, like if you need something to hold on to while crying or if you wanted to hold someone in a friendly way, he was available. You both talked on the phone for what felt like hours. You talked about anything from life to family. You ignored these suspicions because you believed you weren't good enough for him. Enzo was a very handsome, talented, and kind man who was completely out of your league. He was also much older, too. There were people of all genders practically throwing themselves at him. He could pick any person to be with. Someone more good-looking. Someone who wasn't an emotional mess like you. Why would he choose you?
"You're welcome." His hand went back into his pocket. He stood there with his powerful frame while watching you pick up the mess. There was an awkward silence as you focused on cleaning, and Enzo focused on you. "..So, uh, what are you doing later?" Enzo said after clearing his throat. He seemed a little shy asking you this question. "Well, nothing besides moping around my apartment." You jokingly said, and you let out a small laugh at your misery. "..right.." Enzo didn't respond in the way you wanted. He didn't laugh or at least chuckled. He was now looking away from you, his head down and smile now disappeared. He waited a few minutes before adding on, "Would you like to come over to my place?" His head still down, but you could see his cheeks reddened with blush.
You were finished cleaning at this point. "Oh, um, okay." You hesitated at first before accepting his offer. You smiled, and Enzo finally looked up. His smile appeared again. That was a lovely sight. "Okay. Come to my place after you're off work. I have a surprise for you." You stopped dead in your tracks and wondered what he could mean by surprise. Again, you hesitated before responding, "Okay." Enzo smiled again and then exited the room. Now that he was gone, you processed what just happened. Did Enzo just ask you out on a date? Will the surprise be him confessing his love for you? His love.. love.. you hated that word. Love. You couldn't bear to think about that word again or say it. So you referred to love as that word.
You had a crush on Enzo Vogrincic. There, you admitted it. But the thing is, you didn't want to go through a breakup again. You weren't sure how to handle it. Just look at how you're handling things now. You lost all faith in that word. That word made you feel bad inside. It was beginning to affect your outside, too. You had lost some hair and began to break out due to the stress. Your sleeping schedule was messed up, too, and it showed. You had bags on your eyes. Normally, you wouldn't care about your appearance, but ever since the breakup, you did. Now back to Enzo.. you were certain that he would just leave you like Matías did, so you tried your best to avoid him at all times to protect your heart. It was hard because at the same time, you wanted to see him. To be with him. To show Matías that you've moved on. To show Matías what he's been missing out on.
Some time has passed, and you're now in your car. Outside Enzo's place. Deciding whether if you should go in or not. Just text him and say that you're busy with something else. After thinking through this, you have come to the conclusion to just go in. You didn't want to disappoint Enzo or make him feel like he's been rejected. You're now in front of his door. You hesitated before ringing the doorbell. Footsteps were heard, and the door swung open. There he was, looking handsome as usual. He had that signature smile on his face. You loved his smile. It was your favorite sight. You returned the smile and greeted him. You were let in, and he took your jacket and bag to hang them. You sat on the couch in the living room. He wanted to show you something. A book he made for you, he said.
Enzo returned after a while with a book in his hands. Maybe he was going to show you pictures of himself when he was younger. You didn't know. He sat down close to you. You noticed his hands were shaky. He was nervous. "I'm ready to show you this. Here we go." He looked away from you to focus on his book. It had a leather, black cover which had the word "someday" written on it, and a rubber band around it. He took off the rubber band, and the book was finally open.
First page
It was a couple of pictures of your side profiles. Your hair in your face (or not, if you have short hair). You were looking down and sitting on a bench outside. On that day, you didn't remember seeing Enzo. You realized he was secretly taking photos of you. There was also a flower used as a book mark too, a daffodil specifically. He had decorated the page with hearts and stickers. A note on the top of the page said, "Today, I met Y/N. They're gorgeous. Just look at these pictures of them. I think I'm in love. But they have a boyfriend and my heart is already broken. I'm glad they're happy, though. Maybe someday, I guess." The page was made when you and Enzo both met for the first time. A few months ago when you were hired to work as the makeup stylist for LSDLN.
Second Page
It was pictures of a flower cycle. From a seed to its full form. He had planted a flower. A sunflower, specifically. A note on the top of the page said, "I planted this sunflower and gave it to Y/N. I said it was from a friend of mine. I couldn't say it was from me, or else they would get suspicious, and I am shy. Maybe someday." It had warmed your heart that Enzo put in the time and effort to plant a sunflower for you rather than buy one. The page was decorated with leaves, and there was also another flower, a tulip.
Third Page
It was a calendar. Your birthday month. Enzo had drawn a heart next to the day you were born. On the top of the page, it said, "On this day, the love of my life was born. I'll make sure to give them a gift they won't ever forget. Someday." The page was decorated with confetti as well as another flower, a daisy. He had a list of things he wanted to give you. Jewelry, flowers, even a car! You chuckled when you read that he wanted to buy you a car. Another note, "I want to give them the world." Your heart melted.
Fourth page
It was a picture of you and Matías. The both of you were kissing. On the top of the page, it read, "Today, Matías broke up with Y/N. I hope they're okay and what a bastard Matías is. I have a chance with them now, but I hope they get back together because I don't want to see Y/N this way. Someday." You loved how selfless Enzo was. How he put your happiness over his. He wanted you and Matías to make up so you would be happy. Another note said, "Get better, Y/N!" There was a smiley face next to the words. The rest of the page was decorated with sad faces. The page was colored grey. It represented sorrow. This page stuck out compared to the others, which were colored in bright colors that represented happiness and euphoria.
Enzo closed the book. There were more pages, but it was too much for him. You looked at him, and there were tears running down his flushed cheeks. He refused to look at you as he was embarrassed. He couldn't hold in his feelings anymore. "I.." Before Enzo could continue speaking, you cut him off, "I love you." His eyes widened, and more tears came out. His mind went blank, too. "I've been heartbroken before, and I'm terrified of love. I swore to myself that I'd never fall in love again.. but I'm going to take that risk again because of you. I love you so much, Enzo Vogrincic." You could hear your heartbeat. Your heart was pounding out of your chest. You could explode at any moment now.
Enzo hugged you. His eyes were red from crying. You put your hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat. The rhythm of his heartbeat was fast. You smiled, and he did, too. "I love you too, Y/N." He plays with your hair with one hand and the other one caressing your cheek. "I think we should start off small." He said, you agreed. You wiped the tears off his face. Someday, Enzo would always repeatedly write that word in his book, meaning that maybe someday he'll be with you. Someday is today.
You were shocked to find out someone loves you. You went from a cold and dark place to a warm and bright one. You got out of something horrible, and therefore, you were eternally grateful for the love of your life, Enzo Vogrincic.
--
157 notes · View notes
99hook · 9 months
Text
Chaotic Collaborations
Synopsis: The whirlwind of two polar opposites, a story line and unmistakable tensions in between
Warnings: pining, cursing, injury, depictions of blood, protective!hook, jealous!hook, angst, fluff eventually
A/N: welllll after who knows how long I’ve finally managed to conjure up the sunshine!reader x coldhearted hook fic! This was actually so fun to write I got carried away and it takes a drastic turn lmao I hope you love it babesss, enjoy!
(Takes place during the Hook and Jack rivalry)
(Also this shit is extremely long and I’m finishing it at 2am so bare with me if there’s grammatical errors, I’m sleepy lmao)
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You were originally ecstatic over the shot at your very first story line when Tony pitched the idea to you. You’d been in AEW for a little over a year and had been hoping that you’d get a little more substantial tv time outside of your typical matches sometime soon, so when Tony called you to his office with an idea that was brought up to him, you couldn’t agree quick enough.
That was until the person you’d be doing the storyline with walked through the door.
The coldhearted handsome devil, as he frequently gets called. Someone you were somewhat familiar with due to seeing his matches in the viewing room from time to time, or him sitting alone in catering every so often, typically with a hatred look towards the whole world on his face.
A man you never considered approaching for the simple fact that he gave the impression that he was not to be fucked with, or even smiled at, for that matter. He was the last person you’d expected Tony to bring in.
“Hook, glad you’re here again. I know we’ve already been over this but now that we have your future partner here, I wanted to give you both the rundown. Have a seat.” Tony points to the chair next to you. He steps in, a hoodie over his head shadowing his eyes that glance at you before he silently takes a seat.
He brought a sudden energy to the room with his presence, one that made you feel a tad bit uneasy. Intimidated, more so.
“Y/N, Hook is who I’m pairing you with for this storyline. It’s come to my attention that the two of you are both crowd favorites and apparently a lot of fans want to see you two together. It would be great for the ratings and for both of your character developments.”
You nodded along, wanting to look over at the man next to you to see what he thought of this, though you kept your eyes on Tony. You knew that fans liked to talk about how you and some of the talent should pair up together, and there were a lot of edits on instagram of you and certain wrestlers that they shipped, but Hook was the least of your expectations.
“I’ll be putting you both in a group chat where I’ll send you segment and promo schedules and concepts, so keep your eyes out for that. Next week, during your match with Anna, Jack Perry is going to come out with the FTW title and hand it to her, and that’s when Hook will be coming out after him. The fans will think it’s all part of their feud until he comes to your aid when Anna hits you with the title while Jack and Hook are fighting on the ramp. That’s going to be the start of the entire storyline leading up to a tagteam match between the four of you.”
You listened intently, not wanting to miss a beat of the instruction. The storyline made a lot of sense since you and Anna did have some on screen animosity to begin with, and hook and jack have been at each others throats for some time now, so you could see the relevance to having Hook as your alliance.
“I’ll be sending you both a text soon on more details.” Tony said before he excused you both from his office. Hook silently got out of his chair and headed through the door without sparing you a glance. You weren’t sure if that meant that he was displeased about the storyline or if he just collected the information and went on his way.
You decided to try to talk to him when you both got into the hallway, but quickly wished you would’ve let him keep walking.
“Hey!” You jog up to him, reaching his side. He glanced over at you for a split second before he fixated his sights ahead. He didn’t greet you back, and that alone made you feel a little uneasy, but you still attempted to make conversation.
“I know we’ve never talked before, but since we’re about to do this whole storyline together, I guess I should introduce myself and all.” You managed a nervous chuckle, but he kept a straight face.
“I’m Y/N.” You continued on, feeling your nerves start to get the better of you, which is when you start rambling, usually.
“I mean, obviously you know that now since Tony said it, but, anyway, i just wanted to break the ice a little. This is all pretty new to me. I’ve never done a story line before so-“
That’s when Hook stops in his tracks, turning to face you. His stare was cold and jaw set. He showed no emotion, nothing at all, really. The way he looked straight into your eyes made you immediately shy away from that gaze. Your eyes dropped to the gold cross sitting over his chest similar to the one you had tucked underneath your shirt that you wore as a good luck charm.
You wanted to pull it out and show him that you had one too but something told you he wouldn’t care about that at all.
You glanced back up into his eyes, the ones that were strongly fixated on you, managing to push past the nervousness he made you feel until you heard him say, “Let’s save the talking for the scripts.”
He held his eyes on you for a second longer before he turned on his heel and headed down the hallway. You didn’t bother to follow. It was clear that Hook didn’t care to make conversation with you, and he wanted to make sure you understood that.
———
You were sitting in catering with Skye and Willow, oblivious to their conversation due to the thoughts that kept swirling around in your brain. It had been a week since that very first interaction with Hook and tonight you were going to be starting the whole storyline.
Skye noticed how you barely paid attention to the conversation and decided to ask you what was going on. You had yet to tell them about the storyline since talking to Hook, or attempting to, didn’t go over so well.
“What’s going on with you?” Skye’s voice reached you, snapping you out of your thoughts.
You could’ve said it was nothing to save yourself the conversation but they were going to know about the whole storyline tonight, so you decided to spill it all.
“Tony’s giving me my first storyline.” You say, watching as a smile spreads across both of their faces before the confusion sets in.
“You don’t seem too excited?” Willow commented.
“I mean, I am, but… Well, okay, so you know how Hook and Jack Perry have that whole rivalry going on right now?”
The girls nod slowly, clearly they were still a bit confused.
“And me and Anna have a match tonight, so Jack’s going to come out and hand her the FTW title so she can knock my ass out with it,-“
“So then Hook is going to come out to save you.” Skye figured. “So is it like, an on screen dating kind of thing?”
“I don’t think so. Tony said we’ll end up teaming up against them, so I’m pretty sure it’s just alliances.”
Willow’s lips spread into a smirk before she looked down.
“Are you nervous about it or something? You’re the one who said you wished you’d get your shot at a story line and now you’re talking like you don’t want to do it.” Skye said, but you hardly heard her when the man who’s been racing through your mind came walking through the catering doors.
Willow noticed your eyes immediately finding him, following him as he headed around the perimeter of the room to take his seat in the very back.
“I think she’s nervous.” Willow grinned, clearly with insinuation but that’s when you quickly tore your eyes away from the man in question and back to them.
“No, it’s the fact that I tried to talk to him after we left Tony’s office, y’know, introduce myself and break the ice since we’re going to be working together, and he literally looked me dead in my face and told me to save the talking for the scripts.”
Both of their jaw’s dropped and Willow’s eyes cut over to the man, shooting him a look he didn’t see since he was on his phone.
“That’s fucking rude.” She said.
“Yeah, and we haven’t spoke since.”
“I mean, he kind of does look like that type of guy. He’s always by himself, always looks like someone pissed in his cheerios, maybe he’s just a dick. I’d just stick to the storyline and don’t bother with him outside of that if he’s going to have that kind of an attitude.” Skye says before she grabs her phone and stands up from the table.
“Anyway, I gotta go. I’ll be watching your match from the viewing room tonight though. You’re gonna do amazing.” She smiles before she heads out, leaving you and willow at the table.
“I agree with Skye. Just try to enjoy your first storyline despite his negative attitude.”
You nodded, then your eyes adverted over to the back of the room, for some reason you felt strongly compelled to steal a glance of him, only to find his eyes locked on you.
You felt your stomach twist suddenly and looked away immediately, but you could still feel the powerful gaze he possessed burning a hole through you, and you weren’t sure if that meant you should look back again, maybe try to go talk to him, or leave the room all together.
“Oh my God, he’s staring at me. Don’t you fucking look, Willow. Don’t make it obvious.”
Willow didn’t, but it was clear she wanted to. You could practically feel his dark eyes on you from way across the room, and you couldn’t help the way it made the pace of your heart quicken, out of the sheer nervousness that his presence hasn’t failed to make you feel.
“He’s leaving now.” Willow whispered as her eyes followed him around the room before she dropped them to the table. “He’s gone.”
————
You couldn’t help but to be nervous but you attempted to put it all aside as you clutched you ribs, lying on the canvas after Anna kicked into your side, probably a little harder than she should have. You knew what was coming as soon as Jack’s music hit and he came running down the ramp with the FTW title in hand.
You grabbed Anna’s feet before she could reach him, swiftly making her fall flat against the canvas in an attempt to protect yourself from the inevitable. That’s when Hook’s music hit and a sudden pop from the crowd made your ears ring.
He didn’t run down the ramp like Jack did, but it took him only a few seconds to get his hands on the man. Hook snatched the title and threw it to the floor before he threw a series of punches to Jack’s chest, while you and Anna were throwing punches to each other’s jaws. She was hitting you with a force that felt a little more personal than just entertainment purposes. You wondered if she meant that or not.
She grabbed your wrist and slung you against the turnbuckles, hitting your back so hard you sprung foward and fell to your knees. It was all planned, but you were taking one hell of a beating.
That’s when Hook and Jack had the referee distracted enough for Anna to grab the belt. Just as you were getting on your feet, you felt the impact against the side of your head knocking you down flat, staring up at the bright lights of the arena as she pinned you.
The three count came fast and her music rang through your ears. You laid there like you were dazed and confused and thankfully she didn’t actually hit you with it too hard. You had a little pain but nothing like it would’ve been if she would’ve intended to knock you out cold.
The crowd was booing jack and Anna both, but they roared with cheers when Hook slid under the ropes. You felt a warm hand sneak beneath your shoulder before he helped you sit up. There was no script to go off of so you weren’t sure if anything should’ve been said, but nobody would’ve heard over the thousands of screams piercing your ears.
Taz was on commentary hyping the interaction up for the added affect of the viewers watching on tv.
“I don’t know when those two became friends, but I’ll tell you one thing, Y/N has a good one in her corner. If Hook has your back, you know you’re gonna be alright. Jack and Anna better watch out now boys.”
Hook leaned down and grabbed your hand, pulling you up to your feet. The crowd was absolutely wild, and it was a reaction you really didn’t expect. He silently nodded towards the ramp as he let go of your hand. You walked ahead of him, slipping out of the ropes and making your way towards the tunnels, clutching your side and your head for the added affect.
You looked over your shoulder to find hook close behind, his eyes locked on you the second you spared a glance. Just before you reached the tunnels, you heard his voice, somehow over all the commotion around the arena.
“Wait” he caused you to turn around, now inches apart from you. Your eyes widened when you realized the closeness, before you felt his hand grab yours again and hold it up in the air, turning you towards the crowd that was on the verge of losing their minds.
He pointed at you, nodding as he took in the reactions. You were trying to soak it all in but it all had you confused. Assuming he was really good at selling, you tried to ignore the fact that his harsh words had been running through your mind for the past week, but due to that, you didn’t expect all of this.
He dropped your hand and nodded towards the tunnel, letting you lead the way. As soon as you got away from the chaos in the arena, you turned around to face him. Part of you wanted to ask why he was so rude to you last week but the other part of you was screaming for you not to.
Hook’s brows knitted together when you looked up at him. The last thing you probably should’ve been thinking about was the first one that came to mind simply because your brain did that sometimes.
He was wearing a black hoodie, black pants and looked like the walking depiction of darkness with the way his hair casted over nearly half of his face. Meanwhile you had on all white ring gear coupled with white nails and the comparison must have looked nothing less than polar opposites when you stood side by side.
But then you heard him say, “Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me?”
That’s when you realized you’d just been staring up at him, feeling your cheeks immediately burn beneath your skin when he called you out for it. Hook saw the way your face flushed and a rosy tint dusted over. Then he noticed a gold cross sitting against your chest much like his own. He didn’t comment on it, obviously.
You wanted to redeem yourself but couldn’t muster words at that point and he stared down at you awaiting a response or simply for you to move out of his way, which is exactly what you did.
The second you stepped to the side, he slipped past you, brushing your shoulder on his way down the hall. You stood there with a bit of a dumbfounded look on your face as you watched him leave without sparing you another glance.
———
Another week passed by and again, you and hook hadn’t spoke, but your tagged photos on instagram were nothing but you and him from Dynamite the week prior. It was funny how many fans were going crazy for a duo that was anything but when you weren’t on cameras.
You’d looked down at your phone when it buzzed and a text from Tony came through. You were put in the group chat with a 363 area code and debated whether or not you should save him in your contacts.
The text was the instructions for a segment later on. You and hook were going to be spotted talking in the hallway. He sent the full script and with only an hour to memorize and apologized for the last minute scheduling.
You were typing back when another message popped up. It was from hook, nothing but a short and simple reply saying, “All good” meanwhile you’d typed almost a whole paragraph about how it was okay, don’t apologize and you were going to get to memorizing right now. Needless to say, you deleted that and typed back, “No problem, I’ll have them memorized.”
You then scrolled up the long message, unsure if you could actually sell this with such a short amount of study time. You didn’t want to screw up on live tv.
Your lips moved as you read over the lines. It would’ve been way easier if you could actually rehearse them with someone but clearly hook wasn’t going to be down for that and Skye and Willow both had the night off, which was the reason you were sitting alone in catering.
You tried to focus but you felt that feeling again. Eyes on you, unavailable. He was somewhere in the room and you could feel it. He was staring at you again, and you didn’t even have to find him to be able to tell that.
You couldn’t keep your mind on the script now that you knew you were being watched. You wondered why he was staring in the first place. What was his problem with you after all?
The temptations got the better of you and you finally tore your eyes from your phone, only to find him sitting directly across from you at the next table over. Like you already knew, staring.
He didn’t bother to snatch his gaze off of you. He was shameless about the way he watched you. You couldn’t help it when your nerves grabbed strong hold of you and out blurted, “Are you just gonna sit there and stare?”, loud enough for the people around to hear, earning their attention.
Hook didn’t acknowledge them. He didn’t even blink. Didn’t move a single muscle and that’s when you decided to get up and walk over to him, despite the way his dark eyes made you want to take off running.
You approached his table and took a seat directly across from him. He tilted his head back slightly and crossed his arms over his chest. His brows raised in an expectant manner and you could feel the eyes of talent all around focused on the two of you.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” You called him out the same way he did to you last week in the tunnel. He kept a stoic expression as his eyes dropped down to your phone in hand on top of the table. He decided to avoid your question to ask one of his own.
“You think you can sell that segment later?”
Caught off guard, you felt your brows knit together, looking down at your phone which served as a reminder that you needed to be studying those lines.
“I’m gonna do my best.” You answered honestly, looking back at him. “Are you not going to go over your lines?”
“I already know them.”
“The text just came in like five minutes ago.” You pointed out.
“And I already know them, and yours.” He coolly states before he grabs the bookbag from the seat next to him and stands up. “Don’t mess up.” He says before he tries to leave.
“Wait!” Your voice didn’t do you any favors when it came out a little squeakier than you intended, but it kept him there. “Can you help me go over them?”
He stared down at you, face unreadable as always. There was a pause before he said, “If I didn’t have to get ready for my match, maybe I’d consider.” Then he headed out of catering, leaving you alone at the table.
———
You headed down the hallway where you were supposed to shoot the segment. Hook was already there, leaning against the wall with his phone in hand. He had his ring gear on, a couple red marks on his chest and sweat glistening off his skin. He must have just came back from his match.
Nobody else was around yet. You slowly walked over to him and stood against the opposite wall in front of him. He finished typing something before he picked his head up and looked down at you. You did your best not to spare him a glance as you continued going over your lines.
“It’s a little late to be trying to memorize them now.” You heard him mutter.
“I think I have them memorized, actually.” You look up at him, now leaning back with arms crossed. His hair was absolutely unruly and you couldn’t help but stifle a laugh when you saw it up close. The way it was standing straight up over his head reminded you of Chicken Little.
“What?” His brows knit when he catches your reaction.
“Sorry” you shake your head and wipe the smirk off your face. “It’s your hair.”
“What about my hair?”
“It’s like, standing straight up.” You point out, watching his eyes squint at you.
“It’s hair. It does that.” He deadpanned.
“Mine never does.”
“That’s ‘cause Anna’s always pulling yours out.” He bantered back, and for the first time you thought maybe you saw his lips tip up in a smirk, but as soon as you caught it, he wiped it away.
“She is not always pulling it out. That was one time. And that was so long ago, how do you even know that?”
Silence suddenly filled the hallway. He didn’t have an answer for that and thankfully for him, the cameraman made his way around the corner just in time.
“Alright, ready?” He calls out to the both of you. You take one more quick glance at your phone before shoving it in your pocket and taking in a deep breath.
Hook pushed himself off the wall and whispered, “Don’t mess up.” Before he stood behind you, close enough that when you turned around, you had to put a little space between you.
“Action.”
“Y/N.” Hook suddenly spoke. “You can’t let anyone walk all over you in this company. It’s time for you to take control. You need to start fighting fire with fire.”
He was right when he said he had his parts memorized. It was so effortless to him. He went from one persona to the next in a matter of seconds.
You tried to hide the surprise on your face and snap into character. He eyed you skeptically, you could clearly tell he was expecting you to mess up.
“I don’t want to play dirty, Hook. That’s gonna be my karma when it comes back to bite me.” First line down, you didn’t think it was too bad.
“Or maybe Anna Jay and Jack Perry’s karma is us. Did you ever think about that?” He raised his voice and took a step foward unexpectedly, backing you against the wall. You were suddenly flustered but knew you had to force that away.
“Jack knocked me out with the same title Anna hit you with. My FTW title. They’re cornering you and you’re allowing it! What’s gonna happen when you’re in the hospital with a concussion next time and I can’t save you?”
His chest started heaving as hot breaths fanned against your skin. He was way too good at this.
“What do you want me to do, Hook? You want me to be evil like they are? That’s not me!”
A second passed and you saw the way his eyes dropped down to some other part of your face, suddenly making you self conscious about whatever caught his attention. Then, he leaned in even closer, his chest brushing against yours when he inhaled.
“If you’re gonna be with me, you have to be tougher than this. That sweet, innocent personality of yours isn’t going to get us anywhere, and I’m not gonna stand by while you let yourself get assaulted every week. It’s time to start fighting back, Y/N.”
Half of that line, you didn’t recall memorizing. It threw you off a little bit, and thanks to that, you couldn’t remember your final line. You suddenly got anxious, mouth falling open with no words coming out. Hook picked up on this, not letting too much time pass before he tried to jog your memory.
“You don’t have anything to say? You’re okay with these people tormenting us? You want them to take everything from us?”
You hoped he could hear you silently thanking him. You knew that wasn’t a line but he kept it going for the sake of embarrassing yourself.
“If you want me to fight back, then let me do it my way.” You recited, shooting him your best glare for the dramatics. “I’m not turning cold for you, but that doesn’t mean I can’t beat her ass so bad she’ll wish she never stepped foot in a ring with me.”
His lips turned upwards in the faintest hint of a smirk and this time you were certain on it before he quickly brought that straight face back for the camera and nodded his head saying his last line.
“I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Cut”
The camera man left you and hook in the hallway. As soon as the camera wasn’t on you an enormous weight was lifted off of your shoulders, finally able to take a deep breath, but the air around quickly got suffocating all over again.
Hook didn’t move. He was still standing close enough to you that you felt pinned to the wall. He held those infamously dark eyes on you for a moment, studying you. In his mind, he didn’t see the value of having you as a partner. He couldn’t understand why he got paired with someone who looks like they’d cry the minute someone raised their voice.
You just appeared to him as a sweet, innocent person and not in the way that he intended for it to be a compliment. Sweet and innocent wasn’t his thing. He needed someone just as coldhearted and vengeful as him.
Nevertheless, he was with you now until this storyline ends and his dad told him during a conversation they had a few days prior, that he needs to look at things a little bit differently. Taz seemed to think that he needed someone like you by his side. The coldhearted handsome devil needed a conscious and in his dad’s mind, a babyface with the reputation of being a walking ray of sunshine was the angel on Hook’s shoulder.
He carefully considered his dad’s perspective, but then aroused ideas of his own. A concept that he pitched to Tony that you had no idea what was coming. Plans to take your squeaky clean image and transform it into something greater, something more complimentary to himself.
You eyed him, swallowing past a thick lump accumulating in your throat before you managed to speak in a voice almost weary.
“Why are you staring at me like that?”
Hook’s head tilted to the side, as if he was intrigued by the simple question. Your wide eyes reminded him of a skittish puppy ready to bolt, and he was surprised you haven’t yet.
“I thought you had your lines memorized?” He countered your question.
“I did, until you decided to improvise.” You quickly blurted, feeling like you exaggerated that defense. His brows raised slightly from beneath the thick hair against his forehead before he took a step back, putting space between you for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
“See you next week.” He muttered before he disappeared around the corner.
———
Two nights later, as you got cozy in bed, just about to doze off, your phone buzzed with a text from that same area code you recognized as Hook.
“been talking to my dad. you need to learn redrum. im in the hotel gym”
You glanced at the time, nearly baffled when you realized it was one-thirty in the morning. You texted back a quick reply.
“Right now? This can’t wait until tomorrow? And why do I need to learn your moves? I have moves of my own.”
You stared at the message until the delivered turned into read at 1:32 and locked your phone until he texted back.
“im going to bed at 2”
You stared at that simple little message and knew it was basically him not giving much of an option. You huffed as you slid out of bed, never minding to change out of your sweatpants or do anything with yourself for that matter. It was almost two in the morning. You should be asleep.
The elevators brought you down to the first floor. You headed across the lobby towards the gym. You could hear the sound of a punching bag being hit three times each even through the closed door.
You walked in, to your surprise finding Hook and Taz both. Taz was keeping the punching bag steady while Hook threw his fists into it, but that came to an abrupt halt when taz spotted you first.
“Ah, there she is.” His voice echoed through the empty room. “Didn’t think you’d actually show.” He chuckled, turning to his son. “Tyler and I have been talking about that upcoming tagteam match between you and the goofballs, we think if the crowd saw a double redrum they’d go nuts.”
You glanced at hook, now with the new knowledge that his name was actually Tyler, and for some reason that’s all that registered in that moment. He was looking at his dad, not even sparing a glance in your direction until Taz gave him a strong pat on his bare back and said, “I’ll leave you to it son. Your mother’s waiting for me.”
You held the door open to let him through, offering a faint smile. Taz stopped before he left the room, looking over his shoulder at his son, “Polite too” he commented, and you weren’t sure what that was supposed to mean but didn’t ask either. “Don’t hurt him too bad.” He muttered with an amused grin before he headed out.
You closed the door and stepped a little farther in the room. Taz seemed to have taken that lighthearted energy with him when he left because once again, the air was thick. It felt hot and heavy in your lungs and it made no sense to you why that was always the case when you were around him.
He stood at the front of the room with his hands on his hips. He looked like he’d been at it for hours what with the way his cheeks were bright red and sweat was covering every visible inch of his body, and drenching his hair.
“Do you always work out at two in the morning?” You asked as you drew a little closer, feeling like you were physically walking on eggshells.
“I go to sleep at two.” He replied, rather breathlessly. His eyes adverted down to your t-shirt and sweats, and the fuzzy slippers you put on before you left the hotel room. “Apparently you do too.”
“I was almost asleep when you texted.” You defended yourself and your cozy loungewear. “I’m not going to throw on a whole outfit just to come down to the gym.”
“Real shoes either.” He countered.
You looked down at the slippers and then back up at him. “They’re comfy. I don’t care.”
“Clearly.” He nodded. “Doesn’t matter. You familiar with any of my moves at all?”
You could’ve told him that you’d watched some of his matches in the viewing room before but something told you that he would think you were weird for that, so you simply shrugged and said, “kind of, not really.”
The way he eyed you made you think he knew you were lying.
“Never seen me do redrum?” He questioned, raising his brows.
“Maybe like one time.” You lied again, and that’s when his eyes narrowed, as if he was reading right through the bullshit.
He pushed his hair back and let his hand fall to his side with a smack to his hip before he stepped away from the punching bag and over to a bench, grabbing an almost empty water bottle and chugging the rest.
He crumbled the plastic before tossing it in the trash can halfway across the room and walking back over. He stood in front of you. It seemed to you like the man didn’t know the definition of personal space.
“Are you familiar with a half nelson at least?”
You shot him a questionable look, feeling the sarcasm dripping from his question.
“Pretty sure everyone is.” You crossed your arms, deadpanning on him in an attempt to dish it right back. His lips fold in and that’s when you couldn’t help but notice a dimple on his right cheek.
“Alright then-“ he held his arms out to his sides. “Put me in one.”
You shot him another look, wondering if that was a serious request or not. He stared at you, clearly waiting. It didn’t seem probable since the man towered over you.
“How do I do that when you’re like, six foot tall?” You asked, holding your own arms out. “I’m obviously too short to reach.”
“Size doesn’t matter. It’s the way you utilize your body. Anna’s taller than you, how do you expect to put her in a choke? Wait for her to get down?”
“I wasn’t planning to until you said I needed to learn your moves. I have a couple of my own.”
“And clearly they don’t work too well.” He counters comebacks quickly, you realize.
“If you can’t reach, use your legs first.” He instructed, suddenly having a more serious edge to his voice. “If that means you have to jump on their back, then do that. I’ve had to a time or two.” He shrugged before he waved you foward.
You dropped your arms and eyed him skeptically. An uneasy feeling was trying to take over simply because the thought of wrestling around with a man twice your size didn’t seem like the smartest idea.
“You’re not gonna sling me over your shoulder or something, are you?”
You caught the brief flash of confusion that crossed through his eyes before they returned to that cold stare he perfected.
“No, Y/N.” He huffed in annoyance. “I’m not gonna do anything but let you take me down. I’m gonna fall foward though, not back, so if you go flying off of me that’s on you.”
In his mind he was wondering why you were so apprehensive about this. Did you really think he was going to hurt you? He might not be all that friendly but he didn’t have intentions to harm you. Either way, he pushed past those thoughts and focused on the task at hand.
You nodded in understanding before you circled around him, taking a step back for more momentum when you sprung foward. Your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, knees locking in underneath his ribs and you heard a low grunt reverberate through his throat.
“Am I hurting you?” You loosened your legs but felt his hands grab them, keeping you wrapped tightly around him.
“Nope, always keep your legs tight. I’m good. Lock it in.”
You did as you were told, snaking one arm beneath his jaw and the other under his arm, bringing it up and pushing his head down until you felt him falling foward with a low, “Fuck” beneath his breath.
You held on tight as his knees hit the floor and he tapped on your arm quickly. You unwrapped yourself and stood back up, offering your hand to help him to his feet, but he ignored it.
“Was that right?” You asked, feeling somewhat prideful about the way you just brought a six foot tall, two hundred pound man down to his knees with his own finisher.
He nodded, rubbing his neck. “Yeah, that was right.” He cleared his throat. He then eyed you with a somewhat unreadable look on his face, eyes slightly narrowed.
“What?” You asked.
“You’ve never seen that before?” He resorted back to his previous question from earlier.
“I told you I have once.” You reminded him, but again, human lie detector comes out of him and it was evident.
“Most people don’t get it right the first time after seeing me do it more than once.”
“Well I did.” You shrugged, watching as he peered those eyes at you, reading straight through the bullshit once more just to hum in response.
“Not very believable but alright.” He muttered before he walked over to the bench and sat down, grabbing his hoodie and tossing it over his shoulder. You felt your clothes sticking to your body with sweat that wasn’t your own and peeled the fabric from your skin, just for it to stick right back.
Hook noticed this. “You got a little sweat on you.” He comments obviously.
“Do I? I didn’t notice.” You sarcastically replied, and another unreadable expression played on his face, one that had you wondering what he was thinking, but you didn’t ask. It returned back to that blank, emotionless look moments after.
“I have a match Wednesday.” He said as he ran his hand through his unruly hair. “You should probably be ringside.”
“Did Tony say that? I haven’t heard anything.”
“I’m saying that.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, looking up at you. Your mouth clamped shut with that response. He clearly saw the mixed reaction playing on your face and made it a point to clarify.
“The more we’re together, the more we’ll sell.”
But something told you otherwise and you weren’t sure what. Something was nagging at you about his actual motives. If you remember correctly, he didn’t seem too pleased about being paired up with you to begin with.
“I didn’t think you cared so much about this storyline.” You tested. “You seemed really unhappy about it when we were in Tony’s office. And after, especially.” You referred to the first little conversation, or lack there of, in the hallway.
He looked down at his knuckles and a few scars on them before he looked back up at you.
“If we have to do it, I want to at least make it good.” He said, ignoring basically everything you just said. “That means we need to sell it. So we need to be seen together a lot more. Nobody’s gonna believe it if we’re only shot on segments and nowhere else.”
You nodded, understanding that fact.
“So when I have a match, you be there. When you have a match, I’ll be there.” He then stood up and threw on the black hoodie you always saw him wear at work before he walked past you, muttering a low, “see you Wednesday” under his breath before the gym doors shut behind him.
———
“Sounds like he wants to fuck you.” Willow bluntly stated after you told her and Skye all about what’s been going on lately. You felt your cheeks practically burn your skin but looked away in an attempt to hide it.
“Agreed.” Skye adds in. “Looks like someone’s not so coldhearted after all.”
“No, he definitely is.” You affirm with a quick nod. “He’s just good at selling a storyline. He’s a different person on camera than he is elsewhere.”
“He looks pretty angry all the time to me. On camera and every time I pass his grumpy ass in the halls” Willow chuckled and you couldn’t help but do the same. “And if he’s trying to sell the story purely, I don’t think he’d bother getting you down to the gym at almost two in the morning.”
“Well it was to teach me his finisher for when we have that tagteam match.” You justified, but they didn’t buy it.
“That could’ve waited for a day time hour, Y/N.” Skye tried to convince you, but there was no use in that. You looked at the time and realized his match was starting soon. You got up from the seat, thankful for an excuse to leave the conversation.
“I’m needed ringside.” You tell them, noting the smirks on their face before you left.
Hook was already in the gorilla waiting for his music to hit when you finally got there. His back was turned and head hung as he pushed himself back and to against the bars.
“Hey.” You breathlessly said, due to nearly racing to be in time. He turned his head, looking over his shoulder as he kept doing what looked to you like mid air push ups, assuming it was just something he did to get amped up.
His eyes adverted down to your shirt. You didn’t have a match tonight so you didn’t bother throwing on your ring gear. He was wearing all black this time, and you were wearing a bright yellow top and black shorts.
“Hey sunshine.” He said with a condescending, mocking tone as he eyed your apparel.
“Sunshine? Why? Because of my shirt?” You asked. “Was I supposed to match you or something?”
He shook his head and dropped it, exposing that dimple again. He pushed himself off the rails to stand up straight, looking down at you rather dramatically with the way he dropped his head.
“I didn’t say anything about your clothes.”
“You insinuated by the way you looked at my yellow shirt, then called me sunshine.” You pointed out, watching an amused grin spread across his lips before he dropped his head to cover it. You know you weren’t mistaking.
It was then that his music hit and the pop of the arena was already ringing your ears. He headed through the tunnel and you followed, unsure what you were actually supposed to do now that you were here.
The crowd went crazy when hook came out, but nearly insane when you popped out right behind him. He stopped at the top of the ramp to look amongst the sea of faces, and you endured it all next to him. You turned to look at him, only to find him staring down at you.
He nodded towards the ring, signaling for you to take the lead, so you did. On commentary once again, Taz was hyping it up for the viewers at home.
“That’s hook right there folks. The coldhearted handsome devil. He’s being accompanied by one of AEW’s crowd favorites, Y/N for this match. These two have been joined at the hip ever since Anna Jay knocked her upside the head with the FTW title. They’ve got each others backs, I’ll tell you that much.”
If you could hear commentary it would probably make you laugh just how much his dad sells the storyline.
You stopped at the end of the ramp and waited for hook to walk down. He stopped next to you for a moment, the cameraman panning in on the two of you taking in the crowd reactions before he nodded towards where you would be standing, signaling for you to take your place while he rounds the ring.
When the bell rings and the match gets started, you watch on from where you stood leaning against the canvas. You’ve seen a few of his matches but never up close. It was clear exactly why he was favored in this industry. His quickness and agility was otherworldly. He was fast thinking and cleverly destructive.
He made quick work of getting his opponent down. It had only taken about three and a half minutes and the redrum was locked in, and seconds after, his music boomed through the arena.
You clapped genuinely, watching as he got to his feet and slipped out the ring on your side. He nodded towards the tunnels and by this point you already knew to take the lead while he walks behind you. No idea why he prefers it that way, but you didn’t question.
When you reached the stage, you stopped and turned to face the crowd. He got up next to you and looked at you questionably when you grabbed his wrist, even though he already knew what you were going to do.
You raised his hand in the air and listened to the crowd explode. The pop was unlike anything you’d witnessed yourself, and it was doing a pretty good job at bringing your confidence level way up.
“Probably one of AEW’s most unlikely duos. The coldhearted handsome devil and Y/N look like night and day standing next to each other.” Excalibur mentions on commentary.
“Their appearances may be complete opposites but don’t let that fool you my guy. These two are a force to be reckoned with.” Taz adds.
You get halfway through the tunnel when you look over your shoulder to find hook trailing closely behind you.
“Good job.” You smile at him, though he doesn’t return the smile back. You didn’t expect him to, anyway. He hummed in response and dropped his head, ruffling his hair.
Just then, a text came through to your phone. You pulled it out of your pocket and read the group chat message.
“It’s Tony.” You tell hook. “He said me being ringside was a nice touch for whoever’s idea that was. Want me to tell him it was yours?”
“Nah.” He shortly replied. “Did he say anything else?” He asked, seeming a little curious.
“No.” You told him, watching as he nods once. “What do you think we’ll be doing next? Another segment? When even is this tagteam match happening?”
“Ask him.” He mutters.
He wasn’t saying much all of the sudden which confused you. It was like he retreated into a shell after he decided he didn’t like the outside world for the two minutes he experienced it.
“Are you tired?” You asked, noticing the questioning glance he gave you.
“No?”
“Oh. You sound tired.” You added as you headed down the hall with him, unsure where you were actually going since you just got caught up in talking to him.
“Not tired” he sighed, giving you the impression that he didn’t want to talk at all anymore. Or maybe he never even did in the first place.
“Alright well, I’ll see you next week then.” Your voice was far weaker than his was. He slowed down but didn’t stop, muttering “alright” before he kept walking down the hallway, leaving you standing in the middle of it for what felt like the hundredth time watching him leave.
———
A text from Tony came through two days later. It was a graph with the ratings for Wednesday night’s show and apparently the interactions with you and Hook brought a lot of attention on.
You were typing a reply when another message came through. It was next weeks plans for the two of you. Reading over it, you couldn’t help but to be confused. Apparently you were supposed to interfere in one of Anna’s matches that Jack was going to be standing ringside for. This time, you were going to be the one using the belt against her after hook takes it from jack.
Sounded like heel work in your opinion.
You didn’t reply due to the fact that you weren’t sure what to say, but hook did. His message came through a few minutes after the text was sent and was nothing but a simple okay emoji.
That night, you received a text from hook. It was short and simple like all the other ones had been.
“you own any black clothes?”
You felt like you could feel the sarcasm through the screen. What kind of question was that?
“Why?” You replied, not having much time to close your phone before another one came through.
“so we can match”
You understood the reasoning but weren’t super thrilled about black of all colors.
“Do you own anything other than black clothes?” You retorted. This time there was a pause between messages.
“what color do you want to wear, y/n” if you were standing in front of him having this conversation you just knew he’d have that bored look on his face. You thought for a minute about a reasonable color. Then decided on one he probably would glare at you for.
“Got anything yellow?” You grinned to yourself knowing that he was probably going to roll his eyes at that one.
“no.”
“Fine… Blue?”
“no.”
“Red?”
“no. wear black wednesday”
You stared down at that message for a moment debating on what to say back. You looked across the room at your suitcase overflowing with clothes but you already knew the only article of clothing you brought with you that was all black was a dress you wore to go out in. Nothing reasonable for the show.
“I don’t have anything black suitable for tv.”
“how would something not be suitable? just wear it”
You sighed deeply as you walked over to your suitcase and pulled out the dress that you only wore once simply because it rode up way too high all night long. You threw it on the bed and snapped a picture, sending it to him.
“This is it and I’m not wearing it.”
There was a couple moments that passed before you received a message back.
“i don’t see the issue”
“It’s revealing.”
“so is your ring gear but you still wear it?” You stared at that message wondering why you were standing in the middle of the room arguing with that man right now. And still, you continue to do so.
“That’s ring gear. That’s different.”
This time, a good five minutes pass by before he replies. You had just tossed your phone on the bed when you figured he was done texting only to grab it almost as quickly as you tossed it when your phone buzzed again.
“ill bring one of my hoodies then”
On the other end of the phone, Tyler was sitting at a restaurant table with his dad going over the next couple of weeks.
Taz was the one who told him that the two of you should match and it would probably do good at winning over the crowd and the viewers, but he was thinking more along the lines of his son wearing something other than the typical black attire he exhausts.
“It’s funny seeing you two up on that stage” taz chuckles as he digs his fork into his pasta. “You’re like the moon and she’s the sun, for now at least”
Tyler’s eyes lifted from his phone. He was staring at the three little dots while he awaited your response. He said he’d bring you one of his hoodies and for some reason he was apprehensive about sending that message. It felt like odd territory to him to be letting you wear his clothes, but apparently all you had was a little black dress you didn’t feel comfortable wearing.
“And I’ll tell you another thing, when you two team up in that ring, the fans are gonna lose their freakin’ minds”
Just then, a text came through and for some reason a slight smile landed on tyler’s lips, until his dad called it out.
“Who’s that?” He questioned, trying to lean foward to steal a glance at his son’s phone. He was quick to lock it and stuff it in his pocket.
“Y/N.” He muttered before he dug his own fork into his food.
“Have you talked to her about the turn yet?” Taz asked, and Tyler froze for a second.
“Nah, not yet.”
“She doesn’t know?” He questioned, looking a bit taken back. “What does she think the plans for you two are? You have to tell her, son.”
“I’m pretty sure she’ll figure it out on her own.” He grumbled, leaning back in his seat and dropping the fork against his plate.
“Tyler” taz shot him a look, “It was your idea. You need to be the one to tell her straight.”
And it was his idea. He approached Tony shortly after he left you in the hallway that first time the two of you talked, and pitched the idea that you should have a heel run by his side. Tony wasn’t apprehensive at all. To him, and to Hook, the idea of an America’s Sweetheart type of personality completely doing a 180 with the coldhearted handsome devil was golden.
It was just that he told Tony that he’d talk to you about it and never did. Plans had changed from the originality of the first idea and you had no clue about it.
“What’s gonna happen when she’s supposed to go out in front of thousands of people as a heel, and she’s thinking she’s still this babyface character?” Taz reasons, making Tyler drop his eyes to the table.
“She needs time to prepare. It’s not easy going a complete 180 son. Especially not if you wait until last minute to tell her.”
He retrieved his phone from his pocket and read your message back.
“Thank you” was all you said. His thumbs hovered over the screen before he finally managed a response. It was hard to put it into words for some reason and when he realized what it sounded like, he had to send a double text for clarification.
“can you come to my room later”
“to talk. it’s kinda important”
———
Later meant way later than you expected when Hook sent you the text letting you know what room number he was in at midnight.
Regardless of how tired you were, you were way more anxious than anything to figure out what was so important. You reached room 235 and knocked on his door. You heard some shuffling around before he opened it, hair even messier than usual and eyes low, like he was on the verge of passing out himself.
He stepped back and waved you in. You walked in and eyed him as he walked around you. He didn’t sit down anywhere and you didn’t make yourself comfy either. This was awkward. Probably the most awkward encounter you’ve had with him yet.
Truth was that he was a little nervous. He didn’t know how you were going to take the fact that this entire time, you were working on a heel turn without even knowing it. And he was the one behind it all.
He looked down at you, leaning against the wall as he contemplated the best way to go about the conversation. He never really got nervous about anything so this was fairly new and rather uncomfortable for him.
“Did you get that message from Tony about Wednesday?” He started off by asking, and you slowly nodded. You eyed him, trying to read an unreadable man.
“What did you think about it?” He was doing a good job at reading you though. Wasn’t hard since you had a tendency to wear your emotions on your face. He could tell you were skeptical of him in that moment by the way you stared at him solely. He’s seen that look from you a couple dozen times already and the only other one he can recognize that easily is the look you give when he makes a smart comment to you.
“You mean about me using the title to hit Anna? It sounded like heel work to me.” You told him, watching as he nodded.
“Cause it is.”
You blinked twice. “I’m not a heel.”
“I talked to Tony about this storyline a while back. We agreed it’s a better idea if you have a heel run with me.”
You stared up at him, a bit lost. The original idea was for the babyfaces to win in the end, since jack and Anna were already heels. Now it turns out that you had a whole new character transition coming you didn’t even know about in the first place and frankly, you were unsure how to feel.
“Wait so this whole time I’ve been working on turning heel? And you knew that and didn’t tell me?” You peered your eyes at him, glaring. “Why not?”
“Never had the chance, I guess.” He shrugged.
“Never had the chance?” You felt your eyes form into small slits. “You had plenty. How come you got to decide what I do with my gimmick and I didn’t even get the chance to give my opinion?”
Just then, a voice popped into his head, belonging to his dad. Women don’t like when you lie to them, son.
He didn’t intend to lie. It just happened that way. He kind of assumed you’d catch on with the whole heel turn thing and not ask questions but now that he knows you a little better, he knows better than that.
“Your goody two shoes persona wasn’t working well for you anyway, Y/N. We knew it wouldn’t sell for a storyline like this so we came up with something better. If Tony pitched the idea you wouldn’t be getting all fired up at him”
“It’s not the fact that I’ll be turning heel, it’s the fact that nobody told me. Especially you.” You pointed out. You weren’t even mad about the new plans. You would’ve agreed to it anyway if that was the first idea Tony pitched, but you were walking around with no idea what was coming for you and that alone made you more nervous than you needed to be.
“Maybe you didn’t realize, but this is my very first storyline. The last thing I want to do is blow my chance at another one and I’ve been going around absolutely oblivious to the fact that I’m expected to do a whole heel turn in who knows how soon, and you just let me look stupid when you were the one who unrightfully came up with the idea in the first place!”
You rarely yelled at people and he rarely ever got yelled at. It was heightening the tensions between both of you and he expected as much, but didn’t foresee you chewing him out this bad.
“You’re not going around looking stupid! Tony gives you the rundown every week. You know what’s coming and if you didn’t by now you would’ve figured it out.”
You were somewhat baffled by his defensiveness. There was no true justification to what he omitted and he probably knew that full well and just didn’t want to admit he was wrong.
“Yeah, like last minute!” You shout, not meaning to be as loud as you were but you couldn’t help it. “This means something to me, Tyler!”
The use of his name took him back a little and you didn’t mean for that to slip in the first place but for some reason Hook wasn’t the first name to come out in that moment.
Just then, there was a knock on his door that caught both of your attentions.
“Go away” he shouted, but that’s when his dad’s voice reached both of you.
“Open the door, son.”
He rolled his eyes as he walked over. Opening the door and taking a step back so taz could walk in. It was strange to see him wearing pajamas but you ignored that.
“I can hear you two across the hall. What is going on in here?”
Tyler looked at you for a second before he looked back at his dad. “She’s not happy about the heel run.”
“No-“ you stepped forward, correcting him. “I’m not happy about being lied to.”
Taz gave his son a look. A stern I told you so kind of glance.
“Alright” taz held his hands up, “I get that, Y/N. I told this man that he needed to let you know what was going on and not at the very last minute. He doesn’t listen to nobody but himself and half the time that steers him wrong.”
“Clearly.” You huffed out, crossing your arms.
He turned to Tyler and shrugged. “This one’s on you bud. Make it right but keep it down. We don’t need to draw attention.”
You nodded and taz made his way back out, leaving you and Tyler alone once again. He dropped his head and ran his hands through his hair, thinking.
“I’m not happy about this.” You state.
“Couldn’t tell.” He muttered under his breath. The fact that he had the audacity to be sarcastic was mind blowing to you. It made you actually want to scream at him but the last thing you wanted was Taz to come back and give you both some sort of lecture or something.
Tyler picked his head up, tired eyes landing on you. “I’m sorry for not telling you sooner.” He said, shrugging his shoulders. It was a half ass apology but the only one he’d ever given. He never really cared to give anyone that type of respect, or what he thinks is respect in his mind.
“There was no reason why you kept it from me.” You remind him, watching him nod.
“I know.” He sighed.
“And I have a right to be mad right now because my whole entire image is about to change dramatically and I haven’t even been prepared for it.”
“Yeah, but you’re not doing it all on your own. You’re doing it with me. I’m turning too.”
“Yeah, but you had time to prepare for that.” You pointedly state. “How much time do I have? Literally I’m about to start at the next show and I didn’t even realize it.”
“It’s not something you really have to prepare for, Y/N. You just go out there and put on a show. It’s not much different than what we do right now.” He walked around you and made his way to the bed, sitting down on the edge.
“It’s different for me. I’m not mean in general. I need to practice.”
You watched a weird look cross over his face, bringing his lips up in a faint smirk. “You’re not mean?” He quirked a brow. “Not even a little bit?”
“No?” You shrugged.
You heard a low chuckle before he looked down at his phone in hand. You sighed when you realized that this conversation was probably going nowhere fast and the best thing you could do was accept the reality of the situation and work with what you’re dealing with.
“Since you seem to think it’s easy becoming a whole different person, tell me where to start.” You plopped down on the chair awkwardly positioned halfway across the room. His eyes lifted from his phone before he tossed it to the side.
“It’s just acting, Y/N. It’s not like you’re becoming a different person all together. It’s literally one day out of the week that you put on a tough face and sell a gimmick. There’s nothing complicated about it. You’re complicating it yourself.”
You glared at him and the annoyance that was so evident in his tone. He sighed and leaned back on his hands, his eyes lowering by the second.
“I guess just start acting like you hate the world. Go out there and give everyone the biggest eat shit look. Be a little more aggressive in the ring and more no fucks given outside of it.” He advised, watching you nod before you stood up from the chair.
“So basically, be more like you.” You pointed out. Before he could respond to that, you held up your hand to silence him. “Got it.” You said before you left his room.
———
“Doesn’t make sense why he didn’t tell you.” Skye says as you and her head down the hall towards catering. “It’s literally your gimmick changing.”
“I know.” You roll your eyes. You were sick and tired of thinking on it. At this point you’d decided to stop wishing you would’ve known beforehand, since clearly there was no changing that, and take the bull by the horns.
Even though Tyler told you that nothing really changes, everything was about to. Your persona, your ring gear, especially your attitude. You had a lot of winning over to do and you were determined to use this transformation to the best of your ability. No matter how bitter you might feel about the fact that he kept the whole thing from you for weeks.
“Doesn’t matter. I’m gonna be a good heel. I’ve been thinking about all of it. I have tons of ideas and I’m starting to actually get excited about it.” You told her, rounding the corner.
“Speak of the devil.” Skye muttered. “Want me to wait up for you or are you good?”
“I’m good.” You nod as you watch him slowly approach with a black hoodie on and one draped across his shoulder.
He got a look from Skye as she passed by but he didn’t pay attention. He pulled that hoodie off of his shoulder and handed it to you wordlessly. You eyed him as you took it from his hand and threw it over your own shoulder. You hadn’t spoke since that night in his room and he’d been meaning to ask you if you were still mad but never ended up doing so.
The look you were giving him was telling him the answer is definitely yes, you’re still mad.
“I’m going out tomorrow to get some different clothes for my heel era so Ill give this back to you after we’re done tonight.”
“Alright.” He nodded, watching as you pull the hoodie off and hold it up to see it better. Clearly it was going to swallow you whole.
“This might as well be a baggy dress on me.” You pointed out as you held it against your body, showing that it falls nearly to your knees. He noticed the same thing.
“You can cut it if you need to.” He shrugged. “To make it fit decently.”
Your brows knitted together as you looked back up at him. “If I’m giving it back why would I cut it?”
He shrugged again, looking down at the large hoodie covering you whole.
“You can keep it. I don’t really care. Might need to match again sometime later.”
For some reason he was being nice and it was strange to you. You’d chalked it up to the fact that he feels guilty for lying to you. As he should. You tossed the hoodie back over your shoulder.
“I’ll deal with it. You can have it back later.” You say before you brush past him and head down to catering to meet up with Skye.
“What happened?” She asked when you took a seat. Her eyes adverted to your shoulder. “Is that his hoodie he was just wearing?!” You could see the thoughts rolling around in her mind and quickly shut them down. You slung the hoodie down on the table.
“No, not the one he was just wearing, Skye. Just one of them.”
“You’re wearing his clothes? What did I miss in the last five minutes?”
“Nothing.” You shake your head. “He texted me a few days ago telling me I needed to wear black so we could match and I told him I didn’t have anything. So he brought me his hoodie. I’m giving it back right after our interference and getting some new clothes tomorrow.”
She held a weird grin on her face before she looked down at her phone. “Mmkay.” She chuckled.
“What?” You peered your eyes at her.
“Nothing it’s just- it’s funny.” She shrugged.
“What is?”
“The fact that you pretend to be so annoyed by him but you’re willingly going to wear his hoodie.” She pointed at the clothing on the table. “It’s funny.”
“I don’t pretend to be so annoyed by him. He actually does annoy me. I tried to be his friend but he’s so hot and cold all the time. He will be a decent person one minute and an asshole the next, it’s exhausting.” You rambled, making sure she got the point but judging by the smirk on her face, she didn’t buy it.
“Right.” She nodded. “Well it’s almost nine. You should be meeting up with lover boy for your interference in a few minutes.” She teased, earning another roll of your eyes as you stood up from the table with a huff. “Don’t forget his hoodie.” She said before you snatched it up and headed out of catering.
He wasn’t there when you got to the gorilla but you knew he’d show soon. The directors were standing by, seemingly waiting for Hook so they could send you both out at the right time.
You took that time to toss the hoodie on, and it did nothing at all for your figure. It was far baggier than you expected, so much that the sleeves swallowed your hands.
You heard footsteps behind you tracking fast and turned to face the man in question. He took one look at you and his lips turned up in a smirk he was clearly trying to hide.
“This thing is huge on me.” You deadpan.
“I told you to cut it.” He reminds you. Then he reaches down to the ends of the sleeves and rolls them up so your hands are exposed. “Can’t fight if you don’t have fists.”
You stared at him while he rolled the other sleeve up. When your hands were exposed you pulled your hair out of the hood and did your best to make yourself decent before the music hit. As much as you could given the circumstances, at least.
Tyler held his gaze on you for a moment longer before he tore it away the moment your eyes connected, looking down at the floor and fluffing his hair. For once, you matched. You’d noticed his gold cross pendant he was wearing and remembered the one you had on yourself.
“Funny.” You said dryly. “I have one too.”
You pulled the necklace out from under the hoodie and laid it against your chest. He looked down and nodded. “I noticed.” He said, just as your music hit.
You turned around and got ready for your first appearance leading up to a heel turn. You didn’t want to psych yourself out about it, but you felt a little nervous.
“Never thought I’d be coming out to this type of song.” He commented from behind you.
“It’ll be changing soon, evidently.” You muttered before heading down the tunnel.
Anna was staring at the stage when you and Hook came through the tunnel. He threw on his best scowl and it made it a little easier for you to mimick him. Jack came racing up the ramp, hook moving you to the side before he lunged towards Perry.
He snatched the belt clean from jacks hands and tossed it over to you. The crowd went completely and utterly insane as the boys backed down the ramp, throwing punches everywhere they could visibly see of each other’s bodies.
You raced towards the ring as anna was sliding out of it, calling jacks name over and over in an attempt to get him away from hook, and as soon as she had noticed you getting close, she turned around and you slammed the title into the side of her head like she’d done to you weeks prior.
She fell to the floor and Jack immediately rushed to her aid, screaming and cursing you and Hook as you held up the title and shouted back, “This is gonna be his. You just wait! It was always his!”
A proud smirk from hook was caught on camera but you didn’t get to see it. He knew that there were no lines to this. You just came up with something and the fast thinking was what really got him.
Jack then got up to his feet and raced towards you both, but hook stepped in front of you and held his arm out, blocking Perry from getting any closer.
On commentary, everyone was eating the whole situation up.
“Looks like the coldhearted handsome devil has made quite an impact on Y/N!” Excalibur shouted through his headpiece. “This is wild!”
“That it is my friend. I said it from the start. Those two are an absolute force to be reckoned with. God help jack and Anna. Wouldn’t wanna be those clowns right now.” Taz chuckled.
You and hook walked back up to the stage and just before you were about to head through the face tunnel, he grabbed your wrist and nodded his head to the left.
You looked up at him, realizing it was happening this soon. You heard the commotion from thousands around the second you let him lead you through to the heel side, in your mind, you made it official. You were no longer the babyface you’d been for over a year. The transition was starting faster than you’d expected but, it felt a tad bit easier to have someone doing it with you.
“That’s not a shock to me. I could see that coming with those two. Bonnie and Clyde of AEW.” tony announced from commentary.
“Y/N and Hook have made their impression here tonight, and they’re just getting started boys.”
You couldn’t deny that you had an adrenaline rush running ramped. He turned around to let you catch up to him before you entered the hallway.
“How’d it feel?” He asked.
At that moment you almost felt thankful to him for pitching the heel turn idea to Tony in the first place but then you remembered how he kept it from you for weeks. Either way you were able to not let that bother you for the time being.
“Kind of exhilarating. Did you hear that crowd?” You say as you round the corner. There’s looks being sent your way from multiple talent. In your mind it’s judgement but in all actuality they’re wondering how long you and Hook have been hooking up on the low.
“Yeah, they loved it.” He says. He walked a little slower than usual. Usually he was ready to get to the shower but he didn’t mind talking to you a little before that today. He wouldn’t tell you that though.
“I didn’t expect it.” You say. Just then someone calls your name. You turn around and find that it’s Ricky. He reaches his hand out to dap hook up but his eyes stay on you.
“That was fucking crazy what you did out there.” He tells you, making a grin spread across your lips. “I never expected you to turn heel, especially not with my man Hook.” He throws his arm around hooks shoulders, and he stiffens them immediately.
“Next time you’re on I need a heads up so I can watch in the viewing room. Both of you.” He looks at Hook who suddenly has a stiff jaw. He picked up on a vibe Ricky was emitting and he didn’t like it. He didn’t know why but he wanted to get you away from him.
“Thanks Ricky.” You smiled before he nodded his head and gave Hook a pat on his back. “Good choice man.”
You didn’t miss the way hooks eyes followed him all the way down the hall. He suddenly looked like he reverted right back to the version of him you had an unfortunate encounter with weeks ago.
“You okay?” You asked, but he didn’t look at you until Ricky was out of his sights. Then he turned back started walking. You followed close behind, reaching for his arm when you realize you were being ignored.
“Hey” you stopped him. He turned to face you but kept his head down, staring at the floor. “Why do you suddenly look so mad? What just happened?”
“I’m not.” He picked his head up. You could see it on his face. It was clear as day whether he wanted it to be or not.
“You are though.” You attested. “Did he do something to you? I thought you were friends.”
“Can you drop it?” He quickly cut in with a sharp tone. You took a step back, almost feeling like his words forcefully pushed you away. He noticed the distance you put in and his eyes seemed to have softened, but only for a mere second.
He turned back towards the hall and muttered, “see you next week, Y/N.” Before, once again, he left you there watching him go.
———-
“Clearly jealous.” Willow nods dramatically.
“Obviously.” Skye agrees.
“That’s hard for me to believe.” You tell them as you adjust your ring gear. You had a segment to shoot tonight in the ring. It was going to be the first time you actually talked in front of the crowd and you were beyond anxious about it. Tyler was going to be in the ring with you but he wasn’t going to say anything and the fact that you hadn’t spoken to him since that last conversation made you even more nervous.
“Because he wants you.” Willow smirked. “And if you haven’t already heard, everyone is talking about it.”
“Who’s everyone?” You asked as you strapped the laces on your new shoes. It was going to be a little difficult to break in another pair but you assumed that was the price you pay when you turn heel and can’t wear bright, glorious colors anymore.
That was the whole reason you donned an all black attire tonight. Black nails to match. It was never something you expected to wear but if you were going to be a heel you were going to rock it.
“Everyone as in everyone in this building right now.” Willow says. “People keep wondering how long you’ve been secretly hooking up under everyone’s nose.”
“But we’re not.”
“Not yet.” Skye points. “I give it two more weeks and you’re going to send us a picture from his room.”
“I give it one and a half.”
You rolled your eyes and stood up from the bench. “It’s not gonna happen. It’s nothing like that.”
“Then why did he suddenly get all weird when Ricky came up to you?” Willow raised her brows. “Skye, please tell me, why would a man do that?”
“Because he’s jealous. Because he wants you.” She answered, and you shook your head back.
“Whatever. I have to go. I have a segment in the ring in about ten minutes.”
“Good luck. We’ll be watching from the viewing room.” Willow calls out as you head through the door.
To your surprise, Tyler was already waiting for you when you reached the gorilla. To his surprise, you looked like a certified heel. The new attire and dark makeup, it looked way too natural on you.
He had on that signature black hoodie which reminded you of the one you had laying across your bed that you forgot to give back to him.
“Shit, I forgot I still have your hoodie.” You blurted, watching his dark eyes linger down to your attire before they made their way back to your face.
“Told you to keep it.” He said. It was clear he was in another one of his moods again tonight. It was really starting to bother you how he switches so fast, but right now the last thing you needed was to get in an argument and forget your lines. This time you knew you had them memorized thanks to staying up until three am studying them.
“I’ll give it back next time I see you.” You mumbled before music started playing and a song he recognized, but not as your own reached his ears.
“You changed the music?” He asked as he stepped to the side to let you lead.
“I’m a heel now, remember?”
You slid past him and made your way out. It was strange knowing you could no longer interact with the fans. Usually you’d blow a kiss or tag their hands but now you practically ignored them. At least they were engaged and supportive of this new you, so it seemed. Or maybe they were just going crazy over the two of you. Either way, you weren’t the ones getting boo’d.
You plastered a scowling look on your face and tried to keep it there as you made your way to the ring. Hook followed closely behind you, trying not to bob his head to your music.
You slid under the ropes and he took the steps, but you both met back in the middle. You took a minute to take in the reactions from the crowd. It was something you had to try hard not to smile about. Which was going to take some work.
Tony Schiavone handed you a mic and you snatched it from his hand, all for the dramatics, of course.
“Ladies and gentlemen, if you haven’t already noticed, you’re looking at two of the absolute best AEW has ever had to offer you.” You pointed at Hook who nodded his head, stepping side to side on his feet.
You weren’t being boo’d, which came as a thrill to you. If they were eating it up you just wanted to give them more.
“When Anna Jay and Jack Perry made the unfortunate decision to target us, we made the decision to fight back, and what you saw last week when I knocked that bitch out with Hook’s FTW title-“ you paused to make sure the fans were taking it all in, “It was just the beginning.”
You looked over at Hook who continued to nod, chewing on a piece of gum as his eyes scanned the crowd.
“And when Anna recovers from that blow to the head she took from me, I’ll be waiting. And as for Jack, well” you chuckled darkly as you nodded towards your partner, “Let’s just say Hook was some fun things planned for him.”
He looked over at you, and you could see a faint smile on his face before he ran his hand over his lips.
“You see, I realized something a little while ago. You know, after Anna smashed the FTW title into my head?” You reminded the crowd of weeks ago.
“It’s that being nice gets you used and abused. All the times I’ve let that bitch get away with attacking me, I regret it. I really do, but it’s alright, because it will never happen again.”
The crowd popped when you took a pause, but you had to keep that cold expression on your face.
“So Anna Jay, Jungleboy, if you’re watching from the hospital, I just want to say, get well soon. Please.” The camera panned on you and you shot a mischievous grin before you dropped the mic and heard the crowd scream their lungs out.
Your music hit and Hook walked over to the ropes, holding one up for you to slip through.
You headed towards the stage, trying not to let a smile break out. You felt his arm brush yours as he walked alongside you.
When you disappeared through the tunnel you huffed out a deep breath. “Fuck that was exciting.” You chuckled as you placed your hand over your racing heart.
“Fun isn’t it?” He asked as he squeezed into the space next to you.
“Yeah, really fun.” You said before rounding the corner to find Skye standing there. Her match was next but you’d forgotten that in the mix of everything. Her eyes lingered to the man next to you before they fell to you with a smirk plastering her face.
“That was hot.” She remarked as she walked up to you. Tyler stopped when you did, to your surprise and Skye’s.
“You think it was good?” You asked.
“It was perfect. You are doing the damn thing, isn’t she hook?”
You could see what she was doing and tried to send her a look but her eyes were on him instead.
“Yeah, she did real good.” He nodded. That’s when she looked at you again and caught the look you sent.
“You two are a good duo. Can’t wait to see what comes next.” She ran her hand over your arm before she brushed past you.
Tyler looked back down at you and you hoped he didn’t pick up on Skye’s insinuations. He did, but he didn’t mention it.
He started walking when you did, and again, you saw all the people around with their eyes on the two of you. You wondered if Skye and Willow were right. Did everyone think you and Tyler were hooking up? And if so, why? You didn’t think you gave that impression at all. It was just acting, like Tyler told you.
Truth is that Tyler had been approached quite a few times, being asked about you more often than not. He never gave anyone a straight answer, which obviously left them to make their own assumptions.
“Everyone keeps staring.” You whispered.
“They’ll do that.” He muttered back.
You were heading towards the locker room when Jeff Hardy came around a corner, a smile brought to his and Hook’s face when they saw each other.
“What’s up man.” Jeff greeted, “And ma’am.”
“What’s up” hook nodded.
Jeff’s eyes adverted between the two of you, then landed back on Hook. “When are we gonna see this duo beat some ass?” He asked, “I’m ready for it.”
“Whenever Tony calls the shot.” Hook shrugged. “I’m ready too. I think we both are.” He glanced at you. Jeff brought a full fledged smile to Hook’s face pretty easily. One you hadn’t seen from him in all the weeks you’d been around him.
“It’s highly anticipated. From a lot of people, actually.” Jeff chuckles and hook drops his head, seeming to try to hide that smile that you evidently caught.
“We can tell.” He says.
Jeff’s eyes switch back to you again before he looks back at Hook. Both men were grinning from ear to ear as if they had some sort of secret telepathy going on.
“Alright well I’ll see you around brother, and you maam.” He nodded his head and you nodded back.
“Alright bro.” Hook said before Jeff walked around the two of you.
“Best friend?” You teased, watching as he brought his hand to his mouth, physically wiping away that smile.
“Something like that, yeah.” He said as the two of you made your way towards your respected rooms.
“Kind of cool how everyone likes our heel turn. I thought we’d get hate for it.”
“We still might, but it’ll be alright.” He shrugged. You reached the end of the hall that branches off into two opposing directions and it hit you that this was the first time he hadn’t left you standing in the middle of it.
He stopped and turned to face you, adjusting the collar of his hoodie.
“You did good out there.” He tells you, surprisingly. “You should think so too.”
You were somewhat dumbfounded at the fact that he actually complimented you without underlying sarcasm. You smiled even though you didn’t mean to, assuming your lips had a mind of their own.
“Thanks.” You say as you suddenly feel the air getting thick, but not as suffocating as usual.
Hook nodded before his eyes adverted to the empty hall behind you. He didn’t have anywhere to really be, but he told you he did.
“I’m gonna go shower.” He lied for no reason. You just nodded. You felt your hands clamming up, sweat spreading across your palms and didn’t like it.
“Alright well, see you next week?” You didn’t know why you asked. Of course you’d see him next week. It’s been like that for a while now.
“Yeah.” He nodded before he brushed past you, heading one way while you headed the other.
————
A text from Tony at eleven in the morning got your attention that following Saturday.
“This is it. Big match Wednesday.” Was all it said.
It felt like you’d anticipated this whole thing for so long and now that it was coming you weren’t sure how to feel. You stared down at the message until another one came through, but not on the group chat.
“you ready?” He asked, clearly referring to Tony’s previous message.
“No lol” you replied back, but you were being honest.
“you’re ready” he quickly responded, and all you did was stare at those words for a minute to long.
Why it was making you nervous, you weren’t sure. Probably because it was your biggest match to date and held a lot of value to your current heel run but, what happens next? What happens when you and Hook beat Jack and Anna? Is there even going to be a you and Hook anymore?
Lots of questions were left unanswered because you were too hesitant to ask them. You just decided to play it by ear, but the thought of a heel run all on your own wasn’t very appealing to you. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, having Hook alongside you, sort of paving the way for all your antics made things less worrisome and a lot more fun for you.
You truly couldn’t picture doing it without him and that alone was something you never expected.
Another text came through and you were surprised to find that it was Skye. She sent you the picture from AEW’s instagram account when they announced the tagteam match on Wednesday.
“This is your biggest match yet girl. I’m so proud of you. You’re gonna kill it!”
You smiled down at your phone and typed a couple hearts back. The support you had made things a little easier but your nerves were still trying to get the best of you, and you assumed it was going to be that way until the match was over.
————
It was anticipated and highly talked about all over the internet. You were constantly being tagged on twitter, instagram and TikTok. It seemed like the whole world was awaiting this match and the time had finally come.
You were heading towards the gorilla with a racing heart. You kept trying to tell yourself that this was just like any other match, any other opponent but it wasn’t. It was your first match as a heel, first match as a tagteam and longest tv time to date. You had a couple moves you were expected to pull that you never had before and there was very little familiarity around the entire situation.
“Hey” you heard a deep voice from behind you. You turned around to find Ricky standing there.
“Hey” you smiled, adjusting your black wristbands.
“Good luck on your match tonight. Just wanted to say that.” He grinned, and it was then that you picked up on a vibe that you weren’t all that into. You took a small step back but kept your politeness.
“Thanks, I appreciate it.” You say. Before you can turn back, he asks another question. One that catches you off guard.
“Hey, are you and hook like, a thing?”
Your brows knitted together but you wiped that look away quickly. You were about to respond when you felt eyes on you, and just like all the times before, you knew Hook was around.
Ricky’s eyes adverted above your head and that’s when you felt warmth radiating against your back.
“Y/N, you ready?” His deep voice reached you, making your heart flutter for some reason.
He held his eyes on Ricky as you turned around to face him. You could see that familiar expression like before. Jaw set and teeth clenched. It was then that you realized Skye and Willow were right. Hook was jealous. He didn’t get that way at all when Jeff approached the two of you. It was just Ricky.
You spared the man a glance over your shoulder and caught the disappointment on his face, but you couldn’t take enough time to think about it when you had a match in a few minutes.
“What was he talking to you about?” Hook muttered next to you.
You felt a little nervous to say it, but when his eyes landed on you, it urged you to tell him.
“He wished me luck on the match and… he asked if we were a thing.”
His jaw throbbed and you caught it, but by the time that happened you were already reaching the gorilla.
What you didn’t know was that Ricky had been coming up to him asking the same thing, and at one point he expressed that he wanted to ask you to go out with him. He thought he made it clear when he glared the man down but evidently he didn’t make it clear enough. Either that or Ricky just didn’t care, which was what Hook was now figuring on.
He knew he couldn’t get distracted. A lot was riding on this match for you and he didn’t want to ruin that. He pushed the thoughts out of his head and turned to face you instead.
“Ready?” He asked, but he could tell that you were anxious. You still had those wide, round eyes that reminded him of a puppy and as much as you might be good at playing a heel, you just weren’t that person on the inside.
“Ready as I can be.” You nodded, attempting to collect yourself.
Jack’s music was almost finished and you knew that meant it was time for you and Hook to come out. You took in a deep breath and he noticed that it was shaky.
“Something that helps me when I feel under pressure is thinking about the look on the faces of all the people who ever doubted me when they have to watch me prove them wrong.” He blurted, shrugging a shoulder.
You thought on that. Remembering back when you first came to AEW and had no foothold in the industry. All the mean, offensive things you’d heard about yourself start replaying over and over again in your mind and to your surprise, you felt a little bit of adrenaline surge.
“That’s helpful, actually” you tell him, noticing the right side of his mouth tipping upwards.
Just then, the intro of Chairman’s Intent boomed through the speakers and Hook nodded. “Remember that if you get nervous.”
You nodded back before he stepped to the side, as he usually did, to let you lead the way.
You headed out with him trailing right behind you and held your eyes on both Anna and Jack standing in the ring, amping each other up.
The glares being shared between the four of you was making for great tensions arising in the arena and the crowd was intensely engaged in all of it, which made you happy, of course, but you couldn’t show that.
You headed in one direction and he headed in the other, you both circling the ring with eyes on your opponents.
When you passed each other, he held his hand out. You tagged it as you walked past and that simple interaction had the crowd bursting with cheers.
You met up at the steel steps and he stepped back, waving you to go first. You stepped up onto the canvas and slipped between the ropes, Hook following. He didn’t lean against the turnbuckles like he usually did but you assumed that was because this wasn’t one of his typical matches. He stayed at your side and shot daggers to jack and Anna.
You and Anna were going first. You walked up to her, showing no signs of intimidation as you stood toe to toe. She smirked down at you before forcefully pushing you a foot back, making you stumble before you caught your footing.
You wiped that grin off of her face when you delivered a harsh slap to her cheek and from that point on, the two of you were rolling around the ring, throwing fists and kneeing ribs until Paul said it was enough.
You put some separation between you two and that’s when she tagged Jack, so you went to your corner where hook was waiting with an extended hand, eyeing you as you approached.
“You good?”
“I’m good” you slapped his hand and he hopped over the top rope, lunging towards back with a force that knocked him off his feet.
The crowd went wild at his explosiveness and the energy in the arena was absolutely riveting. It could’ve given you a high at that point.
You watched as Hook clotheslined jack right over the ropes, and when he hit the floor, Anna hopped off of the canvas. Hook jumped down and grabbed jack by his hair, but that’s when Anna came behind him and jabbed her elbow into the side of his neck, bringing him down to his knees.
You hopped down and raced over, grabbing her from behind and spinning her until she slammed into the barricades. Hook watched for a moment before he returned his attention to jack.
The two of them were back in the ring while you and Anna threw punches on the outside.
She was way more aggressive than you were, making you feel the urge to hit a little harder. You heard Hook shouting and you both looked up, finding that Jack had used Hook’s redrum against him, but Hook was trying to fight it, and failing.
You kicked Anna back and created enough space to slide under the ropes and break the hold. Hook fell to his knees and jack rose to his feet, walking you back towards the turnbuckles before you felt annas hands around your ankles and your face crashed into the canvas.
You lifted your head to see blood stains dripping from your mouth. Your tongue slid over your teeth to see if one was broken but all you tasted was metallic.
You glanced up to see Hook’s eyes on you. He was in the middle of getting jack ready for a German Suplex when he got distracted by the blood pouring from your busted lip.
He snapped back into it and slung jack over, then got back to his feet like he didn’t take a harsh landing himself and walked over to you.
Kneeling down, he scanned every inch of your face. This wasn’t planned and you both knew that. There was concern in his eyes that quickly turned into undoubted rage when jack grabbed Hook’s shoulders from behind and slammed him down to the canvas.
It was only then that he realized you were bleeding but by that time, it was too late for him.
Hook rose up quickly and threw his fists into jacks jaw. He stumbled back, falling against the turnbuckles and hook just didn’t stop.
Paul had to separate the two, and you when he did, Jack shouted out, “I didn’t know she was bleeding man!”
You got back up and saw the look on Anna’s face when she noticed all the blood leaving a trail from your lip to your chin. She didn’t mean it, and you weren’t mad. Accidents happened all the time, it’s a part of the business.
Hook’s eyes followed you as you walked around the ring back over to your corner, and tensions seemed to have died down when he saw that you were okay.
You held your hand out for him, knowing you and Anna were the ones finishing the match and he hesitated a little bit before he tagged you in.
“You alright?” He asked, and you nodded before you hopped over the top rope.
Anna lunged foward and you stepped to the side, letting her slam into the turnbuckle. Hook smirked at this, it was a classic move.
You grabbed her by the back of her head and slammed her down on her back, watching as she clutched her neck and rolled around, before you pulled her back up.
You knew what was next and had to remember what Hook said that night that you learned you’d be using his finisher to end this match.
Anna was a good bit taller but since you brought a six foot man to his knees, you knew size wasn’t an obstacle.
She turned her back in an attempt to create some distance and you quickly sprung forward and hopped on her. Jack immediately slid under the ropes but that’s when hook raced in and wrapped his arm under his jaw, immediately making him wobbly at the knees.
“Lock it in!” Hook shouted at you as he hopped up and wrapped his legs around jacks waist, effectively bringing him down to the canvas.
You dug your knees into Anna’s sides and reared back, holding on tight when your back hit the canvas and within only seconds, they both tapped out and Hook’s music bursted through the arena, though it wasn’t too easy to hear over the eruption of the crowd.
You kicked Anna’s limp body off of you and looked up to see Hook’s extended hand. You took it, helping you to your feet before he held both your hands in the air.
His eyes would’ve been scanning the arena but they were focused on the blood smearing your skin instead. He nodded towards the tunnels and you lead the way, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, and feeling the sting of an open wound.
“That was a hell of a match right there boys” taz exclaimed from commentary.
“That it was, taz, those two know how to bring the energy to an arena” tony chipped in.
“I’ll tell you what, I wasn’t too thrilled about the new attitude from Y/N at first, but she’s toughened up a lot since her and Hook teamed up.” Excalibur adds.
“He’s coldhearted and she’s following in his footsteps I guess” tony chuckled
“No, I’ll tell you this much. I’ve had many, many conversations with the coldhearted handsome devil and with Y/N myself and those two simply have like minds, like-personalities and like-spirits. We should’ve seen this one coming boys, it was bound to happen.”
As soon as the arena was behind you, you felt his hand on your shoulder, turning you to face him. His eyes were trained on the laceration but you quickly covered it with your hand.
“It’s fine” you tell him. You wanted to continue feeling the rush that the big win gave you, wondering why he didn’t seem excited at all.
“I don’t care about the cut, I’m too pumped up right now” you tell him as you head through the tunnel with a little pep in your step.
“It’s deep.” He says as he catches up. “I think you should go make sure you don’t need stitches”
“It’s just a cut, it’s fine Tyler.”
Accidentally once again, you said his real name. Once again, he felt a little taken back by it, but tried not to show it.
“It’s bleeding a lot.” He keeps on, like it hasn’t stopped at all.
You wiped the blood with the back of your hand and he grabbed your wrist to show you the crimson covering your skin. “That is a lot.”
“I’ve had worse, seriously. I’ll just go wash my face and hold a gauze to it for a couple minutes and it’ll stop.”
Before he could object again, Skye and Willow were both racing up to you. Their arms engulfed you and you felt the giddiness arising within you again. You glanced over at Tyler who was watching the whole group hug with an evident, proud looking smile.
“You are the baddest fucking bitch” Skye says when they unwrap their arms. “That shit was so good I would watch it a hundred times!”
You couldn’t contain the smile breaking out, and that’s when Willow asks, “Does your mouth hurt? That was a nasty fall.”
“Yeah but she got up and kept fighting cause she’s a bad fucking bitch” Skye grins.
“It’s fine, I don’t even feel it I’m too happy right now” you say as you glance back over to see that Tyler was no longer there. Your eyes adverted all around but he had disappeared elsewhere.
“C’mon, we’re gonna get you cleaned up.” Willow grabs your hand and pulls you along. “Oh, and we’re going out tonight to celebrate you.”
————
You stumbled through the hotel doors at one in the morning, wobbly on your feet with willow and Skye by your side. You’d went out to a bar on the north side of town and downed way too many drinks that you could actually remember but you were still on a high from your match that you didn’t even realize how drunk you actually were.
You were all three laughing amongst yourselves about nothing in particular when you caught sight of Taz coming out of the hotel gym.
He had an amused smirk on his face when he approached the three of you.
“Ladies, looks like you had a good time tonight.” He said as he eyed all three of you before focusing on you specifically.
“You took a nasty fall, Y/N, my son was just telling me about how you were too stubborn to get it checked out.” He chucked. That’s when your eyes lingered over to the gym doors.
“Yeah but it’s fine” you slurred. “I was so pumped I didn’t even feel a thing.”
“Be careful about that adrenaline rush, it can sneak up on you sometimes” he said.
“Okay. Is he in there?” You pointed to the gym, stumbling a little bit.
“Tyler? Yeah, he always does his workouts at this ungodly hour.”
When you heard that, that’s all your attention was focused on. You looked over and Skye and Willow who already knew what you were thinking, but they didn’t say anything except, “Well see you tomorrow girl”
Taz eyed you before a smirk came to his face and he shook his head with a low laugh. “Alright, I’m off to my room. Tell my son he needs to stop calling me down to the gym at anytime past midnight and call his tagteam partner from now on instead.”
You nodded, a smile willingly spreading across your lips before you headed towards the gym. You opened the door to find him sitting on the weight bench staring down at his phone, and right as you saw that, your phone buzzed in your pocket.
He looked up at you, brows knitted but with amusement in his eyes.
“That’s weird, I just texted you. Do you teleport now?” He asked, then cringed to himself. That was stupid, why did he say that?
You chuckle nonetheless as you stumbled in, thinking you weren’t noticeably drunk but it was way more obvious than you thought.
“Have fun?” He asked as he watched you head over to the bench across from his and sit down.
“I did” you grinned sheepishly. “It’s been such a good day, actually.”
He nodded back, eyes lingering to the laceration on your bottom lip that was already healing.
“I just ran into your dad” you tell him, swaying side to side.
“Did you?” He smirks, and you wished your vision wasn’t so blurry.
“Yeah, said to tell you stop calling him down here so late and call your tag team partner instead” you hiccuped.
He dropped his head. “Of course he did” he said as he shook it. You watched as he ran his hand through his hair and fluffed it out.
“Hey” you catch his attention.
“Hey” he says back.
“What’s coming next?” You asked the question that’s been running through your mind for a couple of days leading up to the match. “You know, we won tonight. The rivalry doesn’t really have anywhere else to go. So what does that mean for us? Are we done being partners now that we’ve beat them? I mean I know you still have the FTW title to win back, and I can be there ringside for it… if you wanted”
His eyes dropped to your fingers fidgeting over your lap.
“I don’t really know. What do you want to happen?” He asked, knowing already that he has thought about this same exact thing and the idea of the two of you no longer being a duo didn’t sit right with him, but he hadn’t mentioned anything to Tony and Tony hasn’t said anything else either.
“I want things to stay like they are” you admitted with another hiccup. “We have fun, don’t we?”
He had to keep in mind that you were drunk and now probably wasn’t the best time to take anything you said to heart, but it was hard for him not to.
“Yeah, we do.” He nods.
“So let’s call Tony and tell him we’re going to keep doing this heel run together” you pulled out your phone and read the text that was floating on your screen from Tyler earlier.
“can you come to the gym, i want to talk to you about something”
“Wait, what did want to talk about?” You asked. He shifted around and straightened his posture as he rubbed his palms over his sweats.
Before he texted you that, he was having a talk with his dad about you. It wasn’t often that Tyler came to him for advice on women but he didn’t really know who else he could trust.
He admitted that even though he tried to fight against it, he’d fallen pretty hard for you and it was starting to eat away at him. He didn’t have the impression that you would feel the same way, even though Taz completely disagreed with him on that.
He told his son that he would bet a million bucks that the feeling was mutual, claiming that a connection like the two of you have is undeniable and if he’s ever listened to anything taz told him, it needed to be that.
“You two remind me of myself and your mother when we were young” he recalls his dad saying. “We were too stubborn to admit we had feelings until we got drunk one night and it all spilled out”
“Tyler?” Your voice broke him out of his own thoughts. “What did you want to talk to me about?”
He never had to have a conversation like this before. He never really wanted anyone for more than just a fun night before. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly and tried to keep his nerves under control.
“I- uh-“ he rubbed the back of his neck as he inhaled deeply. Letting it all out in a quick huff.
“I been thinking a lot about me and you, and I don’t want to stop what we’ve been doing, but I do want to start doing more” he danced around the confession and you couldn’t quite piece it together.
“Like… how?” You asked, a little lost.
“I want to be with you.” He blurted, feeling his cheeks burn the minute the words flew from his mouth. His eyes scanned your face, studying it, searching for a reaction but you were blank faced and for once he couldn’t read you.
“You want to be with me? Like, be with me?” You were sure you weren’t hearing him right. Maybe everyone else thought you and Tyler were a thing but you never thought it was actually going to be an option.
“Yes, I do” he boldly stated, holding his eyes on you, watching as all the conversations you, Willow and Skye had over the last couple of weeks flashed through your mind and you couldn’t believe they were right the entire time.
“But if you don’t feel the same way, it’s okay, I’ll still do the heel run with you and we can forget I ever said anything.” He lowly muttered, waiting for what felt like an eternity for you to say anything back.
“Or if you’re already into someone else, like Ricky or something-“
“I’m not” you blurted out. “I’m not into anyone else.”
You couldn’t ignore the way your heart was beginning to race and your skin felt like it was engulfed in a million small fires. You stared back at him, your eyes lingering to his lips when his tongue slid over them.
A bunch of feelings you’d suppressed out of sheer denial suddenly came rushing in and it was now impossible to force them back again. All the tensions between the two of you, the anger and the confusion over the last few weeks was quickly diminished by an even stronger feeling of pure anticipation and desire.
The space between the two of you was too much and it was if Tyler had that same thought when he stood up from the weight bench and extended his hand. You took it, and he helped you to your feet.
You were unsure what to do with your hands when he let go but it became easy to find a place for them to rest on his waist when his finger curled beneath your chin, angling your head up, lips would’ve been brushing against each other if you were just a little taller.
His eyes were soft and a sprinkle of hazel appeared against the dark brown, and you realized you never noticed that before now.
He took in every inch of your face with a slow and meaningful gaze before an easy smile spread across his lips and a dimple soon followed.
You felt butterflies erupt in your stomach and spread through your whole body when he leaned in. You rose to you tip toes and your lips met gently, slowly, and tenderly. The way they fit like two pieces of a puzzle, moving in sync and pure harmony had your head spinning.
The taste of mint lingered on your tongue long after his lips were no longer on yours and you didn’t want it to vanish anytime soon.
He looked at you with eyes of adoration, his fingers slipping from your chin and pulling you into his chest. You buried your face into the fabric of his t-shirt, taking in the scent of cologne that you recognized from his hoodie you never gave back to him, and that’s when you remembered it.
“I still have your hoodie.” You chuckled, feeling his chest rise and fall with a low chuckle of his own.
“Keep it. It’s yours. It’s been yours since I gave it to you.”
———-
From that night in the hotel room gym on, you and Tyler were always together at the arena and outside of it. Your heel run was going strong. You were an undefeated tagteam that nobody wanted to step in the ring with.
After two weeks of keeping your love life on the low, he decided he wanted everyone to know. You were walking back from another successful match, standing on the stage when he grabbed your hand and spun you to him, placing a kiss to your lips that made the whole arena erupt in screams and chants of your conjoined names the fans came up with.
“Bet nobody saw that coming” Tony sarcastically remarked from commentary. “AEW’s modern day Bonnie and Clyde”
“Looks like you need to set an extra plate at the table when the holidays roll around, Taz.”
“I’ll gladly do that my friend.” Taz grinned as he watched you and hook exit through the tunnel.
“We’ve never seen the coldhearted handsome devil show any sort of emotion whatsoever… except with her!” Excalibur exclaims.
“Guess he’s not so coldhearted after all” Tony chips in.
“Oh no, he’s coldhearted son, but not towards her. Everyone else including myself gets the cold shoulder from my man, but she’s something special to him.”
Tyler walked you to the locker room and leaned against the wall. A soft smile stays on his face whenever the cameras aren’t around now.
“You looked gorgeous slamming Britt’s head into the canvas.” He taunts, earning a laugh from you.
“Thanks, I didn’t really try” you bantered back.
“Never have to.” He grins as he leans in and brushes his lips against yours before they fully connect.
“Everyone knows now” he says when you pull apart.
“They probably already did. We’ve been caught making out a lot” you remind him, earning that dimple you love so much to appear.
“True. I’m glad we don’t have to hide it anymore. I can officially call you mine.” He grins.
You place another gentle kiss to his lips before you whisper against them, “I’ve been yours this whole time”
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milaisreading · 5 months
Text
Some words of encouragement
🌱🩷: Wrote this while taking a break from studying earlier today. Hope u like it :3
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. No other warnings need tbh. Plays out in the Manager!Yn AU. Requests are open
⚽️Blue Lock belongs to Muneyuki Kaneshiro and Yusuke Nomura ⚽️
The day everyone at Blue Lock has been waiting for had finally arrived. The famous Blue Lock vs Japan U-20 was finally about to happen. It was quite a big event. Not only in Japan did it get attention, but internationally, too. (Y/n) sweatdropped as Anri and Ego forced her to sit next to the president of the JFA, who looked pretty much out of place when answering different questions.
'Does this man even know what a striker is?' (Y/n) thought, quietly looking around. Hoping this pre-game press conference will end soon.
'Did I bring enough water bottles? Does everyone have extra towels? Wait, did Gagamaru bring his uniform even?!'  She felt anxiety rise in her stomach as she thought of everything that could go wrong. They only had this one chance. If they lose now, their dreams will be over.
"And I am confident in team Japan's abilities to defeat the Blue Lock team today. With all the respect I have for Teieri and Ego, their team isn't up on our level." The words caused (Y/n) to look back at the old man, her anxiety slowly fading as she fought back a scowl. Next to her, Anri had a similar expression as Ego kept his face neutral.
"What makes you say that, Buratsuta-san?"
"Well, out boys are pro-players for a reason. Blue Lock is just a child's dream of what football is."
'A child's dream?! Blue Lock?! That place is hell on earth. Half of those players would not survive a day there!' (Y/n) clenched her fists as her eye twitched, but it went unnoticed by the adults. She looked back at the cameras filming them. (Y/n) got reminded that the whole World was watching them, including the boys who were in the locker room.
"Today dreams will definitely be crushed." Teh older man ended his boasting and (Y/n) felt her cheeks flare up in anger. She wasn't going to let this slide.
'Nobody will put them down. Not on my watch.'
As Anri was about to take the microphone away from Buratsuta to talk to the interviewers, (Y/n) quickly took it, getting up from her seat.
"(Y/n)?" Anri raised an eyebrow, the girl's glare melting as she looked at her and Ego.
"I am sorry, Teieri-san, but can I say something? I won't take too much of your time." She said, looking between the two and the reporters. The said people quite surprised by the girl's action. Ego and Anri looked at each other for a moment, then slowly nodded their heads.
"Sure."
"I give you 5 minutes."
Smiling softly, (Y/n) nodded her head and turned to look at the reporters. Her heart beating crazy, her mind telling her she was stupid for this, but she couldn't keep her mouth shut. The least she could do for the guys is protect their efforts.
"Japan... Japan was never known as being this big football country like Argentina, Brazil, France, or Germany. Before entering this project, I didn't believe we had one, let alone a whole team of players who had the talent, the endurance, and the sheer will to play and play until they are the number 1 player. But I am glad I was proven wrong." (Y/n) smiled at one of the cameras, grabbing tightly onto the microphone.
"Blue Lock is a team that is a force to be reckoned with. They won't go down without q fight and they are not scared of anyone. The match with Japan's team will be finished quite quickly with a clear winner. The Blue Lock team. The players in that team are the ones who will bring Japan the highly anticipated World Cup." (Y/n) finally finished, feeling 10 times lighter after.
"And what makes you think that Blue Lock will be the ones to win this match? And the World Cup?" A man asked.
"Easy. Because they are the best players our country has to offer. And they will be the best ones in the World."
(Y/n) answered without hesitation, handingvthe microphone to Anri as she sat down.
'I believe in you guys.' She thought, looking directly at the camera from before.
'Crap... this is being aired internationally, too..' (Y/n)'s cheeks turned red in embarrassment now.
'Oh, whatever. I hope the guys aren't embarrassed by what I said.'
And the boys definitely did hear everything, but they definitely weren't embarrassed.
"Hah! Did you hear that?! She thinks I am the best!" Karasu exclaimed proudly while pointing at the TV. Kurona kept quiet as he blushed more, (Y/n)'s words repeating over and over in his head.
'She trust us so much.' His heartbeat quickened a little.
"It's not just you, gel head. She said this about everyone." Rin rolled his eyes, but it was obvious that he was as affected by her words as the rest.
"It's clear that she had mostly me in mind when she said that." Karasu said with a smug look, earning him disapproving looks from Yukimiya and Barou.
"(Y/n) clearly meant all of us, idiot... but mostly me."
"And why you, Barou?" Yukimiya challenged.
"Because I am the king here, and she knows me longer than you guys."
"If that's the criteria, then I count in that, too. Besides, she always told me she admired how fast my reflexes are." Gagamaru announced as Chigiri and Bachira chimed in.
"Don't forget us! She was always impressed with my speed. I am sure she mostly dedicated this speech to me."
"Not so fast, princess. (Y/n) always said that my dribbling skills are out of this world. And she most probably meant me on the talented part of the speech." Bachira gave the two former Team Z members a cheeky smile.
"She knows me just as long as the rest of you guys." Niko cleared his throat, causing the rest to look at him.
"And she would say stuff similar to this to me. So that speech was definitely dedicated to me."
"Hold it! Out of everyone in Building 5 I was the best one. The one who stood out the most. It's only logical that she meant me." Nagi added in, now more awake than ever.
"I am sure she meant me. After all, I was the best one in my building. And (Y/n) always liked my game play skills." Hiori smiled menacingly at the rest.
"Maybe she really did mean the whole team... it's very sweet of her. She is a great manager. Her words made me less anxious too." Tokimitsu smiled softly at the TV as Ego talked about something. Aryu and Otoya sighed in delight, nodding along with Tokimitsu.
"Such a fabulous manager. We are so lucky to have (Y/n)." Aryu smiled, just happy about the compliments she was giving them.
"Ha~ an angel! I will make sure to do a better job on the field than usually." Otoya giggled.
"Wait, guys. Calm down." Reo suddenly spoke up, causing the arguing group to look at him and Isagi, who had serious expressions on their faces.
"What?" Barou raised an eyebrow.
"Regardless of who (Y/n) was talking about, we need to stay focused. (Y/n) basically declared to the whole world that we would win." Isagi continued, causing the rest to look at each other.
"And?" Rin raised an eyebrow.
"We can't let her down. (Y/n) has a lot of trust in us to say all that. We need to stay focused on winning." Reo continued.
"And, when we win, we will get even more praises from her." Isagi finished. The last part pretty much sealed the deal for the team.
"Alright then!"
"We are so winning this!"
"You used your lukewarm brains for once."
"Let's win this thing as soon as possible!"
"It seems like they are as motivated as always." Anri giggled as she, (Y/n), and Ego stood outside of the locker room, listening to the team.
"Nothing less to be expected from them" (Y/n) smiled softly as Ego nodded in agreement.
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linddzz · 4 months
Text
In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon
Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"
I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.
No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.
EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid
********
In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.
It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.
The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.
Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.
The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.
“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”
Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.
The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.
With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.
“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”
Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.
The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.
“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.
It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.
Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.
The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.
Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.
Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.
“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.
“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”
Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.
“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”
“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.
He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.
That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.
“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.
Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.
“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”
Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.
“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”
Hob should hope so, all things considered.
“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.
Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”
The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.
Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.
“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.
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hobie-enthusiast · 10 months
Note
hiii !! if it’s not too much trouble, could i request a comfort one-shot for hobes ? basically reader is at a pub watch one of hobies friends play, and there’s just too many people around and they start to have a panic attack, hobie pulls them to a quiet spot and helps them calm down. it’s okay if not, i’m just such a sucker for comfort things, especially w my bf, it’s ok if not tho !! hope ur having an amazing day/night :D
FIVE COLOURS !
— hobie brown x anxious!gn!reader
— comfort, panic attacks, implications of drinking, implications of injury, petnames, hobie being the best bf in the world, anxiety and mentions
— you truly thought you could make it, so you asked hobie to take you to a concert
— happily! this is based off my experience (i have anxiety with crowded public spaces), so apologies if it doesnt match what u had in mind 🫶
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Hobie carefully led and maneuvered the two of you inside the pub, right by the stage. The lights were colourful shades of blue and purple as the band onstage set up. Hobie called out to one of them, prompting the singer to come over to him.
You look around the venue instead of listening to the conversation. Everyone seemed happily relaxed before the show started. More continued flowing in, greeting each other like old friends.
More.. and more people..
No. You told yourself and Hobie you would be fine tonight. You assured him that you wanted to go, wanted to support his friends and hang with them. This was something you wanted to do.
“Yea, ‘s my partner.” Hobie’s voice suddenly brings you back as he slings an arm around your waist. “[Name]. Brought ‘em out tonight t’ see th’ group.”
The friend turned to you, eyes lighting up. “Righ’, heard ya talking about them. Nice t’ meet you.”
You give a small wave before turning back to analyze your surroundings. Hobie glanced at you before dismissing his friend to finish setting up.
“Aye, we can go t’ the back if ya want.” He says once you face him again.
You quickly shake your head. “No. I said I could do this. We’re here to support your friend, don’t worry for me, okay?”
As much as Hobie wanted to protest, the lights started to flicker in the pub. He sighed and gave you a nod, yet never letting his hand off of your waist.
He wouldn’t tell you, but Hobie was very worried about you. He knew what your needs were; you were someone who needed personal space and hated when strangers touched you. It was something that spiked your anxiety, leading to pretty bad panic attacks.
Hence why he was so hesitant to bring you here. But he knows. He knows how guilty you feel about it. He knows that you feel like you owe him something.
So when you asked him to bring you tonight, he reluctantly agreed.
Before he could think further into it, the band finished setting up, announcing they were starting. The music began playing and everyone around followed; singing and dancing with each other.
Hobie smiled down on you, taking your hand and twirling you in a circle gently to the music. His friend wasn’t in a heavy punk band, but rather a more mellow rock type. Hobie thought it was perfect to take you to for your first time.
A laugh escapes your lips as you spin into him, his arms encircling your waist. “Doin’ alright, sweetheart?” He whispers in your ear, loud enough so you can hear.
You nod as the two of you dance to the music together, smiles etched on your faces. You both were enjoying yourself, song after song, listening to the talented band.
At least, you were.
As the night went on, more people continued to shuffle in the pub. There was less room, and honestly you wouldn’t have noticed. But then a guy roughly shoved into you, causing you to trip right into Hobie.
He immediately sent a glare the guy’s way. “Aye, the hell’s wrong with ya?”
The man, clearly to have been drinking, responded with something about you being fine, but you couldn’t hear. You were suddenly becoming very aware of the amount of people, and how many were close to you.
Your eyes widen as you feel that all familiar feeling of the air leaving your lungs. You gasp, turning yourself to be able to reach Hobie’s hand, tugging at his fingers.
Hobie’s mind wants to immediately talk down whoever had the audacity to touch you like that. But his anger dissipated when he felt your hands tugging on his fingers and rings.
He requested that the two of you have some kind of non-verbal signal that your nerves were rising. Something he can use to easily identify the panic. And you both settled for tugging his hand, pulling in a one-two motion so he knows.
He knows you’re about to have a panic attack.
His hand immediately moves to shove the guy out of the way, tightening his hold around your waist. He quickly ushers you through the people to try and get to the door. It’s not practical, but he can’t get out otherwise.
The more people that touch you the more you spiral. It’s disgusting you. The way they all just slam into you makes you wanna scratch your arms till there’s nothing left. Just to get rid of their lingering touch you feel.
Finally Hobie makes it to the door, shoving it open and you out. You’re hyperventilating at this point, breathing erratic as you grasp onto Hobie’s vest with your free hand in tears.
Hobie leads you to the back alley behind the venue. “Shh, I know I know.. give me a second, please darlin’.”
Glancing around, he ensures the coast is clear before shooting up towards the roof of the next building, taking you both up there. He knew it was quieter than the back alley, perfect to try and help you best he can.
“Alright alright..” He whispers, keeping his tone quiet. “‘m ‘ere with ya, okay?”
Hobie’s words were there, but not quite there. You were off in your own world of panic, breathing heavy with jumbled thoughts. You instinctively fall to sit on the rooftop, hands harshly rubbing your arms to try and get the disgusting feeling away.
“No no.. aye..” Hobie speaks, taking a seat next to you and gently placing his hands on yours. “Can’t do that.. gonna hurt ‘urself ‘f ya do..” He pries them away from your arms to hold them.
You shake your head, more tears coming to your eyes. God you hated this. More importantly you hated how weak you were. Couldn’t go a single night without freaking out.
Hobie uses his hold to pull you forward, right into his lap. “Shh, ma’ch m’ breathin’.. ‘u’re safe, yeah? Safe up ‘ere.” He assures continuously.
“Aye, ‘member our game?” He whispers, hugging you close.
You’re too far out of it to form actually words right now, so you nod. Of course you remember. Accordingly he used it on anyone he helps, if they truly need it.
“Alrigh’ good.. I need ya t’ play with me.. name five things ya see, ‘kay?”
Your vision was oh so blurry, you couldn’t see anything. This made you panic more. You shook your head, sobbing into Hobie’s vest as you cried out.
He mentally slaps himself. “righ’, ‘m sorry.. ‘ow ‘bout we try..” He thinks for a minute, trying to figure out a way to ground you. “Give me.. five colours you see, ‘mm? Can ya do that, darlin’?”
Now that was more achievable. Blinking rapidly, you peek out from your closed eyes, forcing words to come out.
“Black..” You start, latching onto the colour of Hobie’s vest-jacket first. “Uhm.. B-blue? Wait no.. I..”
You feel yourself start to slip but Hobie is quick to catch you with his voice. “Stay wit’ me, mmkay..?” He whispers, hands moving to gently rub on your arms. “Three more, please sweethear’. ‘ur doin’ amazin’.”
Soon enough, you manage to get out three more colours, Hobie praising your efforts like there was no tomorrow. He moved on to the other senses; four things to hear, three things to feel, two things to smell, and finally one to taste.
The longer this went on, the better you felt. You managed to match Hobie’s breathing pattern before going back to your own. The blur in your eyes faded and you could start making out the thoughts going through your head.
“I’m so-”
“No.”
You glance up in confusion, yet sighing after. “Darling, please.. I-”
“Said no.” He responds, looking down at you with a gentle expression. “Never ‘pologize for ‘ur feelin’s. ‘m serious.”
This was the routine after each one; attempted apologies and stops, lots of quiet time, then eventually sleep. And you were both okay with that. After such an overwhelming situation it was exactly what you needed.
“We can go back in.. or you can and I can go home.” You compromise, looking down on the venue. “You shouldn’t miss out because of my stupid-”
Hobie shakes his head, again cutting you off. “‘s not stupid. And no. We’ll head out toge’er.” He assures you, standing and offering a hand to help you up.
You stare up at him for a minute before smiling. You take his hand and wrap yourself in a hug. He smiles and ruffles your hair before shooting a web, swinging back to your shared apartment. His eyes stay trained on where he swings, yet every now and then he takes peeks down to check on you.
Once you managed to make it back home, Hobie was insanely attentive to you. He told you to go shower (because everyone knows pubs and panic attacks don’t exactly leave you the cleanest). While you did that, he fixed up the room to suite your needs. He darkened it, grabbing comfortable blankets, cleaning it up, anything you need.
After you shower and settle down, he’s got you entrapped in his arms in bed, letting you lie to where your head can lie comfortably in his chest. Though the night didn’t go as he planned, he wouldn’t trade spending the end like this for anything else.
A selfish part of Hobie wishes that this part of you was non-existent. That the two of you could enjoy being out together without this ball of anxiety prodding at you. But Hobie knew that he had to help you through this. That this was hurting you more than him.
“Thank you, Hobes..” You whisper, planting a soft kiss to his jaw.
Yeah, thank-yous and kisses like that from you are his motivation to always protect you, even from yourself.
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cursedvida · 7 months
Text
SAD EYES, BROKEN SMILE III (Buggy x F!Reader)
PART II // PART IV
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WARNINGS: violence, swearing, Buggy being angry.
N/A: thirth part of this series, it's not gonna be so much longer. I hope you enjoy!
After revealing your ability to knock a guy down with just a couple of blows, your pretensions of going unnoticed within the crew have become quite impossible. You have caught the attention of Buggy, who on the one hand seems quite interested in your skills, but on the other is somewhat suspicious of you. And no wonder, in his eyes you have gone from being a helpless young girl to a killing machine, that has to confuse anyone. 
The day after what happened in the tavern he calls you to his cabin. It's the first time you've been alone with him since you found him that night in the ship's hold. You are very nervous, not because he might blow your cover but because he is so close to you. Buggy is not an overly muscular man but he is very tall, at least two feet taller than you. It was something you hadn't paid much attention to until now. Having him so close to you makes your chest tighten, making you feel ridiculous. 
"So tell me, Y/N.... why hadn't it occurred to you to tell me that you can finish a man off in half a minute?"
Buggy's voice sounds soft, almost seductive. He's using a patronizing tone. You've been watching him long enough over the past few months to know it's his way of hiding an impending anger.
"Do you think i'm an idiot?" There he is, he's just pulled out the genie. He abruptly turns to you and approaches, positioning himself dangerously close. "Tell me, do i look like a joke to you?"
You should be nervous about having to come up with some excuse but actually all you can think about is that you see him as a very kissable person. Obviously, you can't say that. 
"Did you really think I'm gonna believe the story of you not minding important to tell me about your fighting skills?"
"I..."
"Tell me the truth, Y/N. Now."
Buggy comes dangerously close to your face, his nose almost brushing against yours. He must think your nervousness is because he's caught you, but the truth is your heart is going so fast because you're holding him so close and it feels like a sin not to eat his mouth. Every day that passes your desire for him grows and at times like this you find it hard to control yourself.
"Well?" he insists, getting impatient. 
You snap back to reality, you must answer something. You sigh, perhaps the best thing to do is to tell the truth.
"Okay..." you nod, pulling away from him a little. You can't center your head holding him so close, his scent clouding your sense. "I had foster parents, they were Marines. They were working as undercover agents, but they ended up in prison for treason or something. When they were arrested my sister and I escaped, but we ended up as slaves and were bought by a horrible guy who was in the business of training children to sell them as mercenaries in the future. I was one of the best, escaped from there, got my own life and blah, blah, blah..."
You were not good at telling stories but that time you have excelled, you have told it with such reluctance that anyone would say that you are summarizing a very boring novel. Buggy stares at you for a few seconds before bursting out laughing. You don't understand what's so funny, maybe you don't like to make a big deal out of it because your personal traumas have turned you into a kind of emotional robot, but it's not to make fun of other people's misfortunes either. 
"Do you really expect me to believe something like that?" 
Wow, so that's what it is, the truth has seemed too far-fetched for him. Well, good for you. 
"I have to admit, you're a good storyteller. You could use that talent for some show." You stifle a smile, one of the things you like most about that fool is how sometimes he doesn't know anything. "But I want the truth, Y/N, or we'll have a problem."
You sigh. Fuck, that's lazy, now you'll have to make something up. 
"My father was a former marine" you lie "I was trained by him." 
Buggy grimaces.
"Yes, of course the earlier story was much more interesting, it had more drama."
"I thought if I told that my father had been in the Navy you wouldn't want me in your crew" you shrug. Well, in the end a boring, simple excuse was the most convincing. 
Buggy stares at you, weighing whether to buy your excuses or not. 
"Okay, I believe you" he nods. He folds his arms and leans slightly towards you, speaking menacingly "But I hate it when people try to make a fool out of me." 
"I never have ever intended anything like that" Actually at first you did. 
"Are you sure?"
"Fuck, of course yes!" You exclaim, exasperated, stepping completely out of your role. 
Buggy pulls back, confused by your reaction. 
"What, you're offended?" he asks, incredulous "I'm the one who has the right to be angry here!"
"For God's sake, Buggy, stop thinking the whole fucking world wants to fucking laugh at you."
You've never said swear words in front of him before, nor spoken in such a rude manner. It's the first time you show him your true personality and he seems quite surprised. And a bit angry, to be honest. 
"You're obsessed with what fucking people think. Fuck it, people are bullshit." 
"How dare you talk to me like that, don't you know who I am?"
"Of course I know, everyone knows. You love make everyone know" you reply, a bit fed up now "I'm just telling you the truth."
"You don't seem very enthusiastic, maybe you don't like being on this crew anymore."
You fold your arms, he's not the only one who can be proud and stubborn, you've always been known for that too. 
"Maybe not."
Buggy's gaze seems to be on fire with rage. He's really furious. 
"Well, get the hell out then."
"No!"
That really knocks him off his feet.
"No?"
Your tone has dropped considerably, regaining your composure. 
"I'm not leaving." 
"May I ask what the hell is wrong with you?"
At this point in the conversation, and considering that you've already discovered too many cards to give up the game, perhaps it's time to tell the truth. But the one that matters. The stuff about you working as a bounty hunter or that your goal was to kidnap him is not something that seems relevant to you.
You take a breath, take a deep breath and stare at him. 
"I like you" you reply matter-of-factly.
Buggy stares at you as if he has just seen a ghost. He's speechless, that's quite a feat coming from someone who is incapable of shutting his mouth for more than two minutes. He opens his mouth slightly to say something but he can't, he gets stuck. Your confession has completely thrown him off, right now so many things are going through his head that he is unable to manage. 
"I don't care about being a pirate" since you confess, you decide to confess completely "but I like you and I don't want to leave the ship. So stop accusing me like that, it doesn't sit well with me."
Not that it feels too good to your self-esteem to see the horrified look on Buggy's face at this point, but it feels genuinely good. You've finally let it out, you've been holding it inside for so long that it's been a lump in your throat.
"Your .... Eh.... Me?" It's the only thing Buggy finds himself able to utter. 
The idea being liked by someone is not something that crosses his mind often. Buggy can brag about all his exploits and constantly bravado about his abilities, but he has always felt considerably inferior than many of his peers. He knows he inspires fear, terror even, that some of his disciples look up to him but... liking him? Why would you like him? You're quite a bit younger and very pretty. In fact you don't know it, but more than one member of the crew has commented to him once or twice that they finds you very attractive. He's sure it's a ruse or something to confuse him, there's no way you really could like him. 
"Look, I'm not going waste more time, this is a childish conversation" You tell him, once you've made your confession it's like all the nerves and fear have disappeared. You are you again. "When you calm down you look for me"
And then you make the decision to do something you've been wanting to do for weeks. You were taught that if you decide something you have to go all the way, that has always been your character. So you approach Buggy, stand on tiptoe and give him a light kiss on the lips. He stands still, motionless, like a statue. You look into those eyes that enchant you and say:
"I really wanted to do that, I'm sorry." 
And with that said you leave, returning to the deck. Buggy stares at you, static, unable to react. 
What the hell just happened?
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undoing-anobrains · 9 months
Text
bartender *
minors dni
wordcount: 2.4K
warnings: smut, oral (m receiving)
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You felt very much out of place backstage surrounded by talented musicians, some of which you'd idolised for years, even if it was just from behind the bar. You wouldn't have been in the position if it weren't for your best friend who had convinced you to sign up to work for this company with her for a laugh, thinking you'd only be pulling pints for the crowd who were too pissed to comment on the size of the heads on said pints and turning away rowdy teenage lads hoping to use their fakes. Until you both arrived earlier that day and discovered that she had been assigned to that area but you were being sent alongside a few others to man the bar backstage which only the performers had access to.
It was quieter than you expected but you supposed that made sense given the constantly busy stages. A crowd of people would come in and order drinks after their performance and eventually filter out after a few minutes leaving the place dead again. Trying to make yourself  look busy you polished the same spot on the counter with a cloth and chatted idly to the three others who'd gotten roped into serving backstage.
Glancing up at the clock you realised that the headliners of the night would be finishing up momentarily and once they had been taken care of and left, you guys could close up the bar and go home for the night. And sure enough there was an influx of people into the previously empty space. Unlike the prior customers they were a large group seemingly including the band's entire team.
You hadn't looked into the line-up for the festival since it was so last minute when your best friend signed you both up to work at it so you were trying to peer into the crowd of faces in an attempt at subtly recognising one of them and determining who they were. Unfortunately though you were struggling to place any of them and instead busied yourself with pouring beers from the taps and measuring out glasses of wine and other spirits as requested.
There were a few cocktails here and there too which you were internally screaming at because the most experience you had with cocktails was drinking them so you were fairly clueless as to what the actual ingredients were for most of them. You'd never bartended before this as well so it was a recipe for disaster. Luckily your co-workers seemed to know what they were doing, or at least they did more than you, so you let them handle the more complex drinks.
Once the bar was calming down and everyone who had already been served their drinks moved out of the way to go sit at the tables dotted around the space you realised who had been playing. Mainly because the very identifiable frontman had wandered up to the counter and taken a seat on one of the stools directly opposite you.
Trying your best to remain composed you greet him warmly as he settles at the bar. Matty looked a bit exhausted but still had that magnetic charm about him. You were more of a casual listener but you knew your best friend would be going absolutely insane if she knew who you were going to be serving. He leaned against the bar and smiled, making eye contact with you "So..." he started and his voice was way more captivating than you expected "is there a reason everyone is queuing for the other bartenders that I'm missing or are they just intimidated by pretty girls?"
You're taken aback by how forward he is but at the same time this seems very in character for him based on the videos your best friend constantly sends you of their latest concert "I wish I could say it was the latter," you find yourself admitting "but this is my first time bartending and I don't really know what I'm doing so it's probably for the best."
"Oh," he raised an eyebrow, intrigued by your honesty "you could've fooled me love. Think you can handle me?"
Oh fuck. Your brain was going haywire because of the stupid pet name. It had already been reeling from him calling you pretty just moments ago but this was so much worse. Especially with the addition of his question - could you handle him? In that moment you come to the conclusion that you'd really like to try. So you tell him just that "Of course," with a challenging "do your worst."
His eyes are firmly fixated on you now and he almost seems amused by your response. Nevertheless, he gives in to your bait "get me a bottle of malbec will you...an old fashioned and two pints."
"The whole bottle?" You echo, albeit teasingly "good thing you've already performed...wouldn't want it to make your finger work sloppy."
Now Matty appeared even more interested by you "cute," he hums thoughtfully "but I can assure you darling that even with it, my finger work is more than adequate."
It shouldn't be this easy for his words to affect you but the insinuation has you thoroughly flustered even if you started it. "Good to know," is all you can manage to say in response as you finish fixing the drinks he ordered.
Then you pull a rather impulsive move and find yourself scribbling a note on the paper in the pocket of your apron and ripping it off, folding it up as small as you can but hopefully large enough that he realises what you've done. You pass him his drinks and he makes two journeys over towards one of the tables in the back where you can now see the rest of the band sitting down.
Just then you feel a gentle touch on your hand. Startled you look up and find Matty standing there with a faint smirk on his face. His fingers wrapped gently around yours and he slips something to you out of view of the other staff behind the bar. The sheer contact was enough to send a tingling sensation down your spine. "Thanks love," he says casually before letting go of your hand and returning to his friends.
When he's out of view and nobody's looking in your direction you open the palm of your hand to find a fifty dollar bill in it and the tiny piece of paper you had previously given him returned with a barely legible 'yes' scrawled below your much neater 'meet me after?'
Although your mind is anywhere but where it should be, you help the others wipe down the bar and start to close. Polishing glasses is dull work but it gives you the best view of Matty so you do your job dutifully and try to focus so you finish faster. The band and their crew slowly start to filter out of the bar, chatter spilling from their lips as they loudly talk of an after party happening else where. Matty is the last of them to leave, slowly striding out of the room and sending you a purposeful look before he’s out of sight.
There was no way of misinterpreting that look Matty had sent you though. Dark eyes clouded over with lust, soft peach skin and a lip bite that could be described as nothing less than seductive. You couldn’t walk fast enough away from the empty bar once you’ve finished cleaning up after them.
The bathroom in question was just a left turn and three doors down from the bar and once you arrive at the door you force yourself to take a couple of deep breaths. It was beyond fathomable that just behind this door coated with chipped white paint was Matty. Matty, waiting for you.
Pulling down on the handle gently, you tug it open, ignoring the tentative shake of your knuckles and the anticipation creeping up your spine. Leaning nonchalantly against the edge of the sink, ever present smirk spread across his cheeks was Matty, He ran as hand through his slicked back hair and sent a teasing smile in your direction.
“I’m surprised you came this quickly pretty girl,” he comments letting the nickname drip smoothly from his lips “so eager already.”
A light blush travels down your neck at Matty calling you pretty again. God was it addicting, you were already craving to hear him utter those words in that sultry tone again.
“Shy?” Matty quirks an eyebrow before you even have time to respond to his original remark “didn’t seem like it when you were making jokes about my fingers and giving me the eyes baby.”
“I’m not.”
“What was that?” He sends you a teasing glance “I didn’t quite hear you there.”
You repeat yourself embarrassingly quick at his command and seeing how quickly you obey brings a wide grin to his face.
“Tell me something darling are you going to be a good slut and make this worth my while or are you going to stay over there like a shy little thing.”
Your fingers loop into the belt holes of his trousers and you undo the belt before pulling them carefully, sliding gently until they pool around his ankles. The outline of Matty’s hardening cock was enough to make you pause and stare for a moment, already practically drooling and you hadn’t even seen it yet. Then you drop to your knees before him, your hands finding a home on his surprisingly firm thighs.
You pull Matty’s boxers down his thighs, exposing his dick which was becoming increasingly hard. He was breathtaking: veiny and bigger than you expected and you have to stifle the moan that nearly escapes your mouth at the mere sight of it. But of course it was beautiful, it was his.
Lapping your tongue experimentally at the tip of Matty’s cock you lick the drop of precum glistening at the surface. This had to be heaven, sure you were on your knees in a dirty bathroom still in your work uniform but being there with him was transformative. You move on to lick from the tip all the way down to the base of his cock multiple times, slathering it in your spit and pure desire. Matty glances down at your with an expression you can’t quite read as you look up through your lashes at him and take the head of his cock into your mouth once more and hollow your cheeks.
“Oh fuck baby, you’re doing so good for me. Fucking made to suck my cock weren’t you.”
You blush at the praise and the feeling of his cock brushing against the back of your throat repeatedly. You move further down, taking more and more into your mouth. Bobbing your head you feel strong hands grip into your hair and tug it roughly.
Upon glancing up you notice how dark his eyes have gone and before you know it he’s guiding your head until your nose is pressed against the skin just above his balls and held there. You gag around it at first but eventually became accustomed to the feeling of the obstruction in your throat and swallow it further and further.
"Take it all the way in slut,” Matty commands you “swallow around it baby, go on. I know you can do that, can’t you.”
You do just that, wanting to do anything to please him and as you do you hear a deep groan come from the throat of the man above you and you can tell by the shaky breaths and gasps he was letting out the longer you kept him there that he was growing close to his release. Just as you feel him twitch, Matty yanks your hair harsher than before and thrusts into your mouth, pounding against the back of your throat rapidly to the point where you feel a stream of salty tears trickle down your cheeks because of the intensity and speed your face is getting fucked at.
Matty smirks in satisfaction at how you shake, body convulsing as your eyes shine with tears and the little water marks on your cheeks from previous tears glisten in the dim light. You truly look beautiful there he thinks, on your knees and just taking everything he has to give you.
“That’s my good little slut,” Matty mumbles, sweetness dripping from his tone despite the obvious juxtaposition between his words and voice “you look so, so pretty crying like this for me.”
“Can’t take it much longer,” you all but whine when you come up for air “I know you’re close baby, cum for me.”
A final teasing lick of the tip of his cock and a few meaningful pumps of his shaft cause Matty to cum, leaving ropes of the salty white substance in your mouth. To which you swallow with a smirk before taking Matty’s dick fully back into your mouth to lick it clean.
“Such a good girl for me,” Matty beams “you took such good care of me darling.”
You look away bashfully, unsure what else to say but “thank you.”
A calloused hand from years of playing guitar then cups your chin and tilts it upwards so you’re forced to make eye contact with Matty. “I think you deserve a little reward darling.”
It would have been embarrassing to observe how you perk up with eagerness at the idea of Matty giving you a reward if you weren’t so fucking horny. You’d been growing restless and needy while getting him off and you could only hope he’d reciprocate the favour.
“What exactly did you have in mind?” You dare to ask.
Matty grins “you’ll have to wait and see love, think you can hang on until we get back to my hotel?”
The thought of waiting even longer for him to return the pleasure you were so desperately craving seemed torturous in that moment but you were also dying to leave the grimy bathroom so you nod and slowly stand up on your shaky knees. Matty looks more pleased than he should be as you slightly wobble and have to place one hand on the sink and another on his thigh to get up.
“Let’s go,” you say with an air of confidence and you can’t wait to see where the night will take you.
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msnanu · 11 months
Text
Life Twist 01 | JJK
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⏤banner by the talented and sweet: @archivedkookie ❣
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⏤summary ❧ After an enormous loss in your life and breaking a long relationship with your now ex boyfriend, you decided you needed a life twist. So you move into a new country to try restart your life and seek for your happiness. What you weren't expecting was someone like Jungkook entering into your life as soon as you got to Seoul.
⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 ❧ jungkook x female reader
⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦 ❧ fluff, angst, smut, slow burn, 4 years age gap (reader is JK's noona)
⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 ❧ mature language
⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵 ❧ 5k+
⏤ author's note❧ I just wanted to state that this is the first time I write a fic - so bear with me, please 😌 - also just as an FYI, I don't have an specific schedule to update since you know.. adult life hahaha but I'm already working on next chapter. I love this story and I hope you get to love it as much as I do 💜
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You were finishing unpacking your clothes when your phone started to ring, you smiled seeing that your screen was flashing with Chris’s name on it. Christian – aka Chris – has been your best friend since you were 15, you met him during your high school years through acquaintances and you clicked immediately.
You both feel like you’re each other’s soulmate but of course only in a platonic way, although a lot of people tend to misinterpret and think that there’s more to your friendship. It’s hard for people to understand that a woman and a man can be just friends without any sexual desires but to be honest at this point of your life you don’t care about what others might think of your relationship with your best friend.
‘Hey y/n, finished unpacking yet?’ asks your best friend with his chirpy tone as soon as you pick up the call
‘Hey Chris, ughhhhh no... still working on it, but I promise I’m making progress, I finished with almost every room of the apartment, I’m cleaning up in my bedroom right now. I think by tomorrow I might have everything in order’ you say while biting your lip and looking at your clothes scattered all over the new assembled bed, I mean... at least it doesn’t look any more like a tornado came through your window
‘I told you I could’ve helped you; you can be so stubborn sometimes’ you hear your friend sigh and although you can’t see him you know he’s shaking his head at you
‘No no…You’ve already helped me enough, if it wasn’t for you, I would never had the balls to move to another country – so take a rest of me, bestie’ And that is totally true, he had helped you with all the immigration bureaucracy, he also basically got your new apartment. While you were still at your native country, he went on apartment hunting and showed you the different options you had through videocalls, gave you tons of tips so you wouldn't miss anything while moving to another country since he had experience in that area. After all, he had moved to Seoul 2 years prior to you.
‘You would’ve done the same for me, we both know that!’ you smile while hearing your friend because you know that’s also true, you both would do anything for each other without hesitating.
He doesn’t give you the chance to respond anything and keeps going: ‘Anyways, I was actually calling you to invite you to a birthday party tonight – it’s Jackson’s birthday, remember I told you about him? He’s that friend that works at my gym. We were talking today, and I might have slipped that you moved to Seoul recently and he told me to invite you, he really wants to meet you’
‘Me? Why would he want to meet me?’ you respond with a surprised tone
‘According to Jackson’s words and I quote: he is really curious to get to know the only girl I’ve retained in my life without sleeping with her’ he says with amusing tone
He cackles when he hears you snorting ‘Wow, now that’s a good way to convince me to go to a birthday party of someone that I don’t even know’
‘It might not be the best invitation but at least is a chance to meet new people and make some friends’ he says that since he knows you struggle when it comes to meeting new people
‘Um..I have friends, I have you’ you respond almost immediately
‘You’re a sweetheart but I’m talking about other people than me, although you know how I love all your attention on me, babe’he says while chuckling because he’s already imagining how you’re rolling your eyes at him after you heard that pet name
‘Oh my god you’re so full of yourself – ughh, okay you’re right, I should get to know new people. New country, new life… new friends I guess’, you say a little insure knowing you’re not the most sociable person in the world but it would be kind of nice to have people to hang out other than Chris
‘And maybe you can get some action too, it’s been what? A year without any proper activity?’ he talks without any filter like he usually does
‘Wha- Okay, I’m hanging up on you. I’m not in the mood to talk about my sex life right now’ you respond acting offended though you both know that you're just teasing each other
‘Or the lack of –’ When Chris hears your gasp he chuckles and says immediately ‘Sorry sorry, just kidding bestie, I’ll pick you up around 9PM, don’t make me wait pleaseeee, byeeeee byeeeeee see ya. I love you’
You can’t even get mad at him for calling you out on your sadly lack of sex, it’s not like he’s wrong. So, you just laugh it off and respond by saying ‘Fuck off - You’re unbelievable. K, don’t worry I’ll be ready when you get here. See u later, love you too” 
Once you end your call with Chris, you grab some of the last items left in the moving boxes. You come upon a frame, it's a picture of you and your dad when you were 4 years old on your summer vacations at a swimming pool where he was teaching you how to swim. One of the many things that your dad taught you in life. Your eyes start to feel watery at the sight of your dad's sweet smile and with a deep sigh you give a kiss to the picture. You place the frame on your nightstand and while cleaning a few tears that dropped on your cheeks you can only whisper - "I really hope I'm making you proud dad, I'm finally looking for my happiness ".
°•○•°●♤♡◇♧•°○•°□▪︎☆♤
You look at yourself in the mirror, thinking you did a decent work with your make up and cleaned yourself up pretty good after a long day of putting everything in order at your new apartment. You weren't so sure on what to wear for Jackson's birthday party, so you just went for an all-black outfit: leather jacket, mini leather skirt, a Ramones shirt that you love and combat boots.
After looking at your reflection in the mirror one last time, you took a selfie and sent it over to Chris to ask him if you were dressed properly for the occasion, which he replied with: 'You look gorgeous babe, almost too perfect for the occasion! I'll pick you up in about half an hour ;)' – you can’t help but smile at his compliment. You know he's nothing but honest with you, whenever he had to tell you that you looked like shit, he would do it. And of course, it goes both ways.
Your best friend is punctual as always, 9PM sharp he was at your building entry texting you that he was outside your home. Jackson’s place wasn’t that far away from yours, only about 10 minutes on a car drive. While Chris was driving, you chit chatted about your exhausting day, and he told you that this girl – Hani was her name you wanna say? - that he’s been hooking up for the past month asked him the golden question ‘What are we? Where is our relationship going?’ and that’s where Chris decided to put an end to the hooking up. He just doesn’t want anything serious right now and is totally understandable.
From what your friend has told you, Hani got really upset at his response, although to be fare... he did warn her when they started hooking up that he wasn't looking for anything serious, he’s not an asshole that goes around giving false hopes to any girl.
It’s been like this with Chris for a while now, he did had a girlfriend a few years ago and they dated for about 3 years until he found out that she was cheating him with her boss – pretty shitty move if you ask me – she broke his heart and after that he hasn’t been in a serious relationship with anyone, just hook ups until the girl finally gets tired of being just ‘friends with benefits’, that’s how it usually goes.
When you finally arrive at Jackson’s you start to feel slightly nervous, it’s been a while since you got to meet new people and it’s in a total new environment, new country... totally different cultures, a lot to take in. Chris knowing you, holds your hand tightly for a moment and before entering to his friend’s house tells you ‘Don’t worry, he and his friends are all pretty cool people, they’ll love you - now come on, let’s go and start socializing!’. You chuckle at his enthusiasm and as soon as you enter, you’re greeted by Jackson holding a red cup with beer on it.
Jackson smiles at you and your friend and says ‘You’re y/n, right? Wow, you’re even hotter that what I imagined – sorry I don’t mean to be unrespectful, but you know how weird is to see that this guy over here has a female friend and didn’t sleep with her yet? Anyways, it’s so nice to meet you finally, I’m Jackson’ and he immediately gives you a hug which it honestly startled you.
You chuckle and once he’s finished with the hug, you respond ‘I know, it’s always amusing to see how people get surprised that we’re really just best friends. Um, it’s nice to meet you too and happy birthday! Thanks for inviting me over’ you say shily
He keeps smiling at you while he also hugs your best friend (apparently, he’s a hugger) and says ‘Chris’s friends are also my friends, so please make yourself at home – I haven’t invited a lot of people because I actually have a small group of friends, come with me and I’ll introduced them’ and you both follow him to the living room going through a large hall – which by the way, is so freaking beautiful, you can’t stop staring the marble floors and beautiful art works hanging on the walls and you think to yourself how amazing this apartment looks – your thoughts are interrupted by the group of people who’s now in front of you having a discussion about who was the largest hands in the group - though you're not sure you heard right -
And then Jackson speaks getting everyone’s attention ‘Guys, this is y/n, Chris’s best friend – yes, she’s really his friend and she is a woman, I know!! How crazy it sounds, huh? She just moved to Seoul from basically the other side of the world so be nice to her’
One of the guys with a boxy smile says to Jackson ‘Hey! –  we are always nothing but nice, she’ll think poorly of us if you say it like that!’ and Jackson just laughs it off and starts to introduce each and one of them. There’s 10 people right in from of you – which to you, it sounds like a lot of friends, you never had more than 3 o 4 friends (one of them always being Chris of course) so 10 sounds like a lot of people – you learn that the guy with the boxy smile is called Taehyung, then there’s Namjoon, Seokjin – though he told you to call him Jin -, Jimin, Yoongi, Hoseok – or Hobi how he introduced himself - , Aria – which you learn is Hobi’s girlfriend -, Joey, Emma – Joey’s girlfriend – , and last but not least Jungkook who smiled you shily and waved his hand to greet you from afar – you almost gasp at how this last guy seemed like he was built by the God’s themselves, you felt like you wanted to look up to the sky and say ‘WOW, well done!’ – to be honest, they were all insanely attractive but there was something that caught your attention straight to Jungkook and you couldn’t quite wrap on your finger what was it.
The night went smoothly, they all seem to be really friendly and made you feel comfortable as if you were one of them already. You spent most of the time hearing their stories about the last trip they went to last year – Hobi’s parents own a lake house in Chuncheon, which you learn is about an hour away from Seoul – and they’re planning to go again in the next month or so – and you’ve been invited to go with them by Hobi himself which you gladly accepted and thanked him for including you even when you just exchanged a few words with him throughout the night.
Your red cup was empty for the third time by now, so you got up and approached to the table were all the drinks were placed and poured yourself some Soju, while you were at it you feel someone approaching you and then a sweet voice sounds saying ‘Are you having a good time so far?’, you look up and realize that is Jungkook who’s now besides you also pouring himself a drink while he smiles at you.
You also smile at him and respond ‘Yes, I really am. Honestly you guys made me feel really comfortable, I tend to be a lot shier when I meet new people, but I don’t feel that way at all with you’
‘I’m glad you feel that way, sometimes these guys can get loud, me myself included, and people look at us like we’re weirdos’ he chuckles and sees you just nodding while you giggle at him and then he continues ‘Mmh, mind if I ask you what made you move in all across the other side of the world? I don’t wanna intrude, I’m just curious’  
Although you feel comfortable talking to him, you don’t want to get into much detail... at least not yet, telling your whole story about how after your dad’s passing last year you felt like you needed to work in your happiness because you knew that’s all your dad wanted, for you to be happy. You don’t dwell on how you realized that you needed to break up your 9-year-old relationship with your boyfriend – now ex-boyfriend – because you really didn’t share anything in common anymore, you grew out towards different paths, and neither of you wanted to accept it.
So you go with a simple response while Jungkook watches you attentively with those beautiful doe eyes where you feel like you can get lost so easily : ‘You’re not intruding at all’ –  you give him a comforting smile and continue – ‘I always wanted to live somewhere abroad, to have that experience at least once in a lifetime, plus Chris had moved here and he used to say to me how much he loved Seoul and how the people here always treated him so nicely. To be honest, he was a great influence on me moving in here. He’s pretty much like a brother to me so it was easier to decide on moving to another country knowing that he was going to be by my side and I was really missing him back home – though please don’t tell him that I said that, because it will just inflate his ego more’ you both snicker once you’ve finished explaining him part of the reasons why you decided to move to Seoul. Is not like you’re lying but you’re leaving a few big details out of the conversation, maybe some other day you’ll have the opportunity to tell him.
‘Well, I hope you really enjoy being in Seoul, I’m sure I’m enjoying you being here’ he admits shily to you. Your cheeks start to feel like burning and you can’t help but to feel hypnotized by him, God did he have to be this fucking gorgeous?
Before you can respond anything back, Taehyung’s loud voice interrupts the moment that you two were having - ‘Hey you two, what’s with the chit chatting? You better not be talking behind our backs’ while the others laugh because they know he just loves gossiping and wants to be included in any of it.
So, you both just laugh it off while you share a look and go back to the others
About 4AM, the night ended for all of you. Chris was insanely wasted, and you were cursing under your breath because you two got here on Chris’s car and you also had drunk a fairly amount of alcohol and weren’t in the best state to drive yourselves home.
Jackson takes a few steps towards you and your best friend - who almost couldn’t stand on his own feet without swaying – it was quite obvious that Chris wasn’t okay to drive so he offered ‘Do you want me to call an Uber for you? I would drive you myself but I’m a little bit tipsy honestly’ and just when you were about to accept on his offer, another voice interrupts ‘I could drive you both home if you want to, I don’t mind at all and I’m okay to drive’, it was Jungkook that was watching the whole scene of drunk Chris holding himself to you from afar
You felt bad for dragging him along with you and Chris’s drunk ass so you said to him ‘I don’t wanna impose you, we could just call an Uber really’, whilst he came closer to you and helped you lifting Chris from yourself as if he weighted nothing and responded sweetly ‘I’m not taking a no for an answer, and you’re not imposing, I offered myself, come on let’s go’. So, you said your goodbyes from a far to all the other guys that were also getting ready to leave and thanked Jackson for inviting you one more time before finally following Jungkook and Chris over to JK’s car.
After the impossible task of getting Chris’s drunk ass in Jungkook’s car, you went into the passenger seat while you heard your best friend from the back mumbling nonsenses that only he could understand. Jungkook asked where to go and you told him your address, you couldn’t leave your best friend alone in that state so that’s where you headed to.
As soon as he started to drive, Jungkook asked ‘How long have you two met?’ hinting on the drunk man that was now singing - or at least he thought that he was doing that - Jason Derulo ‘Swalla’ while lying in the backseat.
‘Too long if you ask me’ you both start laughing and you continue ‘Mmh, it’s been like...15 years since we met. We went to the same high school but didn’t shared classes together because we were on different programs. One day when we were both at recess, there was this guy who was a senior that kept insisting on me dating him and I would always say no. Until that day it got up to the point that he pushed me against a locker’ - Jungkook’s eyes widened while he was letting you continue your story –‘And afterwards the idiot tried to kiss me even when I was pretty clear saying that I didn’t want anything to do with him. That’s when out of nowhere, Chris grabbed the guy and punched him right on the face and told him to fuck off and leave me alone’, you can’t help but smile remembering how your best friend stud up for you even when he didn’t even know you.
‘Wow, well done Chris! From the very first day you were already protecting y/n’ Jungkook said smiling while checking on your best friend through the rearview mirror
‘Yesssssss, I saved noona from that asshole’ you hear from the backseat
‘Noona?’ Jungkook widened eyes look over to you, ‘Wait, are you older than Chris, y/n?’
‘Yes… well only 3 months older than him, my birthday is in May and Chris’s birthday is in August’ - Now that you think of, he only calls you noona when he’s insanely drunk -
You start remembering how one morning you got up seeing that you had 10 voice messages from your best friend, you got so freaking scared for a moment thinking that something bad had happened.
That was until you started playing all the audios and it was clear that he was wasted while he was sending those audios, some of them you couldn’t even understand what language he was speaking, there was another one where he was singing ‘You’re my best friend! No, I didn't stutter till the day end. Through heaven and high water oooooohhhhhhh, it kills me not to tell you, you're my best friend’ and finally the one where he screamed ‘Noona I love you, you’re my bff’ and that was it.
Seeing JK’s still surprised look, you ask ‘What? You thought I was younger? I don’t know why people tend to think that Chris is older than me but no, we’re both 93 liners’
‘I actually did think you were younger; you certainly look like you’re. I didn’t think that you were my noona too’
That’s when your eyes almost pop out of you head and you say ‘Wait, are you telling me you’re younger than me too? I thought all of you in Jackson’s home were about the same age as us’
‘Yes, noona’ says Jungkook while wiggling his eyebrows to you. ‘I’m a 97 liner’, he laughs at your wide eyes
‘Oh my god you’re a baby’ – you can’t help to think that you were almost salivating because of this Adonis that you’re talking to and now that you learn he’s 4 years younger than you, it somehow feels weird.
You've never felt attraction for a guy younger than you, maybe is the prejudice... You used to notice how guys - not all of them but the majority, at least in your experience - would take more time to mature than girls, so you never dated anyone younger than you, not even someone of your same age. You always aimed for guys older than you.
Although, to be fair, last time you were single you were 19 years old so anyone at that point would be immature probably.
Maybe now that you’re almost 30 it wouldn’t be a bad thing to be open to date younger guys, you could find someone that's younger than you and still have a good time, right?
‘Don’t call me a baby, please’ you notice how Jungkook’s tone changed to a serious one
‘Sorry, I promise I won’t call you like that again’- you can't help snickering seeing how serious he got just because you called him a baby - ‘It’s just that you surprised me, maybe it’s because you’re all muscle and give such a masculine vibe that I thought that you were pretty much the same age as me’
– Oh for fucks sake, that freaking Soju made your tongue start to loosen up, you start panicking once you have finished the last sentence because you realize that you said everything you were thinking out loud, you shouldn’t drink when there’s a guy this hot near you –
You feel Jungkook’s burning gaze and as soon as you look at him you see him smirking at you. Then he opens that beautiful mouth he has and says ‘So…you think I’m pretty masculine, noona?’
‘Isn’t that what I just said?’ you mumble, not even knowing how to divert the conversation because you’re about to pee yourself, he’s so gorgeous you feel like you’ll start stuttering any time soon if he keeps looking at you with those doe eyes
Before he could open again his mouth and make you blush again, you see your building entry and you almost scream interrupting him ‘We’re here!!’
Fuck, why am I getting this nervous around him? I feel like a teenager. Jeez, you must keep it together y/n! - you think to yourself -  
He then stops the car, and you open the door getting out not even waiting a second because you were starting to panic in there. You feel like the Soju has taken all your filters down and you could say almost anything to Jungkook. You just met the guy, you can't start telling him how hot he looks with those cargo pants or how insanely good that sleeve of tatts looks on him…God, maybe it’s just that it’s been so long since you had sex, yes... yes, it must be that!! That explains why you’re just a horny mess.
Jungkook gets out of the car quickly after you and waves you off when he sees you trying to get Chris out of the car, who by the way, is totally passed out by now and once again Jungkook lifts him up like a bag of potatoes and lets you guide him towards your apartment.
The wait for the elevator almost felt eternal but once it arrived you pushed the 7th floor button while you feel JK’s burning gaze on you but neither of you said anything. Once you got to your floor, you quickly open your apartment door because poor JK has been putting up with Chris’s weight for a while.
You guide him through your living room and tell him to drop Chris on the sofa while you place a bucket right next to him in case he wants to throw up at any point. You feel relieved that you finished cleaning up your apartment earlier since you see JK already analyzing everything around the apartment while he says ‘Nice place’ then his doe eyes set on one special picture on your desk next to your laptop while you’re putting a pillow under Chris’s head ‘Who’s this in the picture? Your dad? You look so much like him’
You freeze for a second and respond shortly ‘Yes, that’s my dad’ while you come close to where he is standing watching the photograph, he says ‘You have a tight relationship with him, huh?’
‘Yeah, I did’ you say almost whispering with an unexpected sad tone. JK's eyes widen and realizes that you used the past to refer to your dad and starts cursing himself in his mind for his big mouth ‘I’m so so sorry y/n, I’m such an idiot If I kne- ‘
‘Hey’ - you interrupt and put a hand on his shoulder to make him understand that he didn’t do anything wrong, and you’re not upset at him at all - ‘There’s nothing to be sorry for, how would you know? Besides, it’s not like I can’t talk about it, it’s a sensitive topic for me… yes but it is what it is’ – he looks at you with a look that you got used to see on other people every time they found out that your dad passed away, it’s maybe pity? – ‘He passed away from bones cancer last year, such a fucking painful disease... you see how your loved ones are shutting down little by little while you can’t do anything to help them. We were really close to each other and we used to talk every single day. Even though I miss him like crazy, I know he’s not suffering anymore, and I held his hand until his very last breath. He was a great person but even more a greater dad and I’m proud to be able to say that I’m his daughter’ once you finish saying that you look down and take a deep breath because you know you’re about to cry – well, so long to not sharing your sad stories on the first day of meeting him
And then JK turns you to him and hugs you tightly while saying ‘The ones we love are always in our hearts’ then he grabs you by your cheeks and makes you look at him straight in his eyes while he cleans some of the tears in your face ‘I’m sure your dad is by your side all the time’
You nod at him, and you start to feel like an idiot crying in front of someone you met today, that’s not you – even Chris who was met you for 15 years only saw you crying two times, so you say ‘I’m sorry I’m such a cry baby, I always get really sensitive talking about my dad’
‘Now who’s the one apologizing for no reason noona, huh?’
You both share a look and start laughing while he’s still cupping your face. That’s when you both realize that you’re standing insanely close to each other’s faces, you clear your throat and JK’s hands leave your face. You swear you saw him blushing, but you don’t comment on that. In fact, you don’t say anything at all because you’re spacing out thinking how close you were from each other just moments ago.
You got back to earth once you listen to him saying ‘Um, so… do you need help with anything else? If not, I think I’ll head home, it’s been a long night’
‘It’s been a long night indeed’ you said smiling at him ‘but no, you already helped a lot, this moron is already sleeping so I’m just gonna have a nice long shower and head to bed’
You walk him to your door and meanwhile you’re debating in your mind whether you should ask him his cellphone or not. You feel like you’ll look desperate but since when do you care what people thinks about you? Ughhhhhh your mind is driving you crazy right now
So before saying your goodbyes, you settle on saying ‘Thanks for driving us here and for dragging Chris to the sofa, that was very sweet of you’
He smiles with that pair of lips that could knock someone over in a second and says ‘No worries, I’m glad that I helped. I had a great night being by your side. Sweet dreams, noona’ and he waves goodbye to you while heading to the elevator.
You feel like you’re about to melt thinking how sweet his voice sounds and before closing the door you hear him calling your name once again
‘Yeah?’ you manage to mumble
‘I was wondering if you could give me your cellphone number?’
‘Sure’ – and you can’t help feeling like a thousand butterflies were freed on your belly
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navybrat817 · 10 months
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It's a Ginger Thing
Pairing: Soft Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader Summary: Feeling a bit stir crazy from your daily routine, you share an idea with Nick that may be good for the other wives. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied smut, noncon/dubcon elements (you have been warned), gaps in memory, gaslighting, coercion, creepy vibes, Nick Fowler (yep, he's a warning) A/N: Nick and Ginger's Intro for my Disturbia AU! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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Nick took you to the gym at the same time each day before he went to work. Exercising was your favorite part of your daily routine. It gave you a chance to get out of the house, stay in shape, and have some time with your husband before he went on his way and you got to work on your chores. It was also a good way to get some of your frustrations out of your system, which you could only do so much through cleaning.
A good wife keeps a tidy home for her husband.
You pinched the bridge of your nose as you stopped in mid stretch. It was difficult to pinpoint why you weren’t overly fond of cleaning. It wasn’t that you didn’t like a put together home and you would never look down on anyone who thrived on being a stay-at-home spouse. But it wasn’t a way for you to flourish. It was as if one day you just decided to give up on your wants without a second thought.
What did I want to do before we moved to The Haven? I had goals, didn’t I? Ambition?
You sometimes liked to imagine that you wanted something more beyond the duties of a housewife. Something exciting or a job that could help people in some way. It was possible to support Nick in the ways he needed while having something of our own. Was that too much to ask?
Yes. Because Nick helps so many with his job, along with taking care of me. Supporting him should be enough.
“What’s wrong?” Nick asked when you quickly finished stretching.
“Nothing,” you said, putting your hands on your hips as his bright blue eyes focused on you. Seeing him in his workout clothes, the taut muscles defined through the fabric, made it difficult to concentrate. “Just don’t really think I’m up for doing any housework today.”
“Your head bothering you?” he asked, taking a sip of water with an unwavering gaze.
Nick was a little different from some of the men you knew in the neighborhood. From what you observed, Steve ruled his home with an iron fist and he expected Cherry to fall in line. You had to bite back a retort more than once when you saw how he treated her, especially since she was so kind. Scott was one of the nicest guys on the block, but traditional in that he expected Rose to find fulfillment as a homemaker and future mother. Andy and Ruby, you still weren’t quite sure how they fit together, but they at least seemed happy.
But Nick? It didn’t bother him if you skipped cooking one night to order takeout or if you let laundry go for a day. The last time you snapped at him to put his own plate in the dishwasher, he laughed and bent you over the kitchen table until you were a drooling mess. All while telling you he loved the fire inside you. Because at the end of the day, he wanted you by his side and in his bed.
That was the only true rule he enforced: Don’t ever leave him.
And why would I? Nick Fowler is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with.
“I think you went away there for a second,” he said.
“Sorry. Guess my head is bothering me,” you replied, graciously accepting the other bottle as he handed it over.
You never expected to crave fruit infused water, but it soothed the aches in your body. You once asked if he put muscle relaxers or something in your drinks since you always seemed to feel better once you had them. He said “yes” with the most serious expression before he winked. And you promptly dumped your drink out. He had to make them in front of you for a week straight before you took them again without question. It didn’t matter that it was a joke to him because you took it seriously.
Nick wouldn’t hurt me though. He loves me with his entire being.
“So, I was thinking,” you began, pausing to take a large sip.
“That can’t be good,” he joked, chuckling when you grabbed his towel to toss it at him. “Kidding! I was kidding. What’s going on in that beautiful brain of yours?”
I don’t know half the time and that scares me.
“I was thinking that it might be good if I taught the girls a little bit of self-defense. Maybe we can rent out a spot here? Or I can even teach it in our backyard?” You told him, giving him a pleading smile. “What do you think?”
“Why would you want to do that?” he asked, motioning for you to follow him to one of the sparring mats.
Where Nick goes, I’ll follow him.
“It would be good for me to break up my routine a little bit. I love our time here at the gym and it’s fun hanging out with the girls, but I think it might be good for all of us. I know that we live in a safe neighborhood, but you never know what'll happen.”
“I'm sure Ruby can defend herself just fine,” he joked, running a hand through his short hair. You could tell he was trying to get your attention on him and not the topic at hand.
“And what about Cherry and Rose?” you asked. “And didn’t you say someone is living with Bucky now? What about her?”
“Plum. We haven’t met her yet,” Nick shrugged a little. “I understand that you don’t want to stay home all the time, but I really don't see the need for a self-defense class. The others will probably feel the same way.”
“Of course, you don't see the need for it,” you snapped before you could stop yourself. “You know why? Because you're not here. Day in and day out, you get to leave and go to work. The other husbands get to leave. And the wives? We’re stuck here. It’s enough to drive me crazy.”
Don’t raise your voice at your husband.
A shuddering breath left your lungs when Nick clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes. It reminded you of a nightmare you had before you moved into the neighborhood. Of him chasing you down and catching you with that same terrifying look before he fucked you into submission. There was an ache between your thighs when you woke up, but he assured you it was nothing more than a vivid, terrible dream.
You felt so bad about it that you ended up apologizing to him.
A good wife knows when to concede to her husband and chooses her battles wisely.
“Whatever it is that you're feeling, you don't need to take it out on me. I'm on your side,” he reminded you before he took a deep breath. “Look. I can’t make any promises that anyone will be okay with a self-defense class, but I’ll at least ask.”
“You will?” you asked in a softer voice, bringing your water to your lips and deflating a bit as the cool liquid flowed through your body.
“I will,” he promised, taking the drink away from you when you gave a smile. “May I offer a compromise in case they say no? An aerobics class? This way you can still get quality time with the girls here.”
That didn’t seem like a fair compromise to you. How would aerobics help the girls, besides staying in shape? But the smile Nick gave you was enough to back down the rising words in your throat.
Nick knows the best course of action.
“I’ll consider that,” you said, gasping when he kicked your feet out from under you. Luckily, you didn’t get the wind knocked out of you as you landed on your back. “Nick!”
“Always be aware of your surroundings, Ginger,” he smirked, joining you on the ground. He easily caught your wrists and pinned them above your head. The position left you vulnerable. “If you’re going to help these girls, you need to be able to help yourself.”
“I can,” you said through your teeth.
I’m not weak. I’m stronger than he thinks I am.
“Yeah? Then get out from under me or stay there and let me get you off,” he said, bending down to brush his lips against yours. “Or maybe I should leave you hanging for snapping at me.”
You moaned when he dipped his hips against yours. Was it the control he had that made him hard or the fact that anyone could walk into the gym and catch you? It wouldn’t be the first time. He liked it when others caught him fucking you.
He’s a proud husband and there’s nothing wrong with that.
“Sorry I snapped,” you whispered, arching your back when he tightened his grip on your wrists.
“Why don’t you let your pussy show me how sorry you are? Then I’ll believe you.”
Whatever Nick wants, he gets. And I’ll be happy to give it to him.
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Good life with Nick, right? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️
Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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bookshelf-dust · 1 year
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easy as pie
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ghostface!eddie munson x fem!reader
word count: 3,475
warnings: swearing, drug and alcohol use, allusions to and mentions of sex, murders and violent kills, use of a knife, blood, loads of blood, this is a slasher okay? slightly mean!eddie, a teeny possessive!eddie, there’s a lot of problems here man, not a conventional ending
a/n: surprise!! this is dedicated to the lovely and talented @rogueharrington !!! thank you for supporting my sick, sick mind. i’ve been working on this for a while, and i’m pretty damn proud of it. i think i had more fun than i should’ve. this is based loosely around scream 2, mostly just the college setting, and there is one kill that is based on a specific kill from that movie, though it is slightly different. i really hope you like this, my dearest, and i hope that some of you might like it too!! i know it’s not for everyone, and that’s totally okay, but i’m pretty fucking excited about it. love you!!!! <333
————
The music is so loud that the boy doesn’t really hear the bathroom door open. At least that’s why he’s telling himself he doesn’t hear it. His fingers shake as he lowers his head, dragging the rolled up bill in his hand down the line of white powder he’s spread out on the counter. 
He’s halfway through the line when he sees someone and looks up. “Hey, man, bathroom’s ocupado, yeah?”
His vision blurs and he dips his face again, quickly snorting up the rest of the coke he’s got. He vaguely registers that it might be the last of his stash. 
The figure he saw earlier is now close enough that it’s bothering him. He rubs his nose, sniffing hard. “Shit, man, didn’t you hear me? I said the bathroom is–”
He would’ve finished his sentence if it weren’t for the knife breaching the soft skin of his back, the tip of the blade nicking his spine. The end closest to the hilt, the bit not buried in the boy, glints in the shitty bathroom lighting.
The knife glides down his back, and the boy chokes. It’s really deep, the blade. He grabs for the edge of the counter, but it doesn’t matter because his body is already shutting down. He falls, his head banging the granite and the dollar bill slipping to the floor. 
He doesn’t have time to beg. To plead. To whine. Quick and easy. 
Eddie yanks the knife out, kicking the boy under the edge of the countertop, the muscles in his thigh straining. 
Ryan, he thinks his name was. 
Eddie lifts the shiny metal blade, swiping it along the edge of his robe to get it clean. He spots the last of the cocaine on the counter and lifts the edge of his mask. He licks his thumb to ensure it’s sticky, moving to pick up the remainder and rub it along his gums. 
And then he’s gone. 
————
“You know anyone going to this party tonight?” Eddie’s voice sounds tired over the phone. “I’ve got to deal some, but I won’t be gone long, promise.”
You think for a moment, and Eddie can hear you scratching your head. It makes him chuckle, a low and breathy sound. 
“No, I don’t think I do. I think that party’s a little too far away for the kids without cars.” Eddie pictures the smile he knows is on your face, and then you’re continuing. “You get gas today, baby? Because I’m not driving to pick you up in the middle of the night again. I have an exam tomorrow.”
Eddie rubs his arm, trying to smooth the goosebumps he’s now got because you called him baby. It’s like you’ve put him in a fucking trance. 
“Good. And yeah, you little shit, I did get gas. That was one time. One fucking time.”
Your giggle makes him blush. But he really had run out of gas late a couple months ago. You’d driven half an hour away in your Disney princess pajamas to get him. 
The sound of your laughter fades away, and Eddie feels like he can hear you thinking. 
“What is it?” He asks, shifting the receiver from one shoulder to the other, the plastic having started to dig into his skin. 
“How come it’s good? You said ‘good’ about there not being anyone I knew tonight.”
Eddie’s brow furrows as he tries to think of a response. You called him baby. His mind was fuzzy. 
“I just meant that I really don’t want to be out late tonight. It’s supposed to get pretty cold. Sometimes when your friends buy from me shit loads of other kids try and haggle for a discount. Friend of a friend stuff. That’s all.”
“Oh. Don’t be mean, okay, Eddie?”
Eddie laughs. It’s low and drawn out, a taunting chuckle. 
“Me? Mean? Sweetheart, you wound me.”
“Eddie, come on. I know how you get sometimes. Especially at parties. They’re all just trying to get by too, you know.” 
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. He looks around for one of the ties you left in his room. He needs to keep it up tonight.
He’d twist his hair up now, but the phone cord isn’t long enough for that. 
“Thought you liked it when I got a little mean?” His voice is teasing, dropping that little bit lower, and suddenly you’re thinking about his hands. You can feel them running over your back, feel his thighs bracketing yours. You shake your head. 
“Jesus, Eddie can you just not for like five minutes—”
“Lose the attitude, princess.”
You quirk a brow at his tone. “Fuck you, Munson.”   
His mouth stretches into a grin. Eddie surely likes it when you’re mean, even if you are dead serious right now. “Wish you would,” he says.
You rest your head against the wall that the phone is attached to. You don’t want to play this game tonight.
“Goodnight, Eddie.” You move the phone away from your ear, but it’s still close enough that you can hear him. 
“Don’t you hang up on me!”
You position the speaker in front of your mouth. “Don’t fucking tell me what to do, asshole.”
Eddie sighs. He’s standing now, looking for his keys now that he’s finished lacing his shoes. He knows better than to mess with you like this. Sometimes he’s just so petulant that he can’t help it. But he really doesn’t like having you be upset with him. 
“Shit, I’m sorry, okay? I promise I won’t be an ass tonight. I know it’s midterms and everything, and people are ready for break. I’ll be sweet Eddie, I swear to you honey.” 
“Yeah, okay. I trust you.” And you do. Eddie’s never broken a promise he’s made to you. You’re not sure that kind of thing is in his nature. 
“I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Ed.”
————
The mattress is much too stiff, Liz thinks. Like it’s not the kind of bed anyone actually sleeps in, like it’s just for decoration. 
The room has a balcony, though. She wants to go outside. 
He’s obviously not coming up here after all. But maybe she should wait a few more minutes. 
Casey isn’t here tonight, which means she won’t know if her best friend sleeps with her boyfriend. It’s not Liz’s fault that Casey just happens to have something Liz wants. And she always gets what she wants.
Liz glances at her watch again. She’s never been a very patient woman. Seems to be a side effect of swimming in daddy’s money all her life. 
Fuck this.  
Upon standing, Liz finds a packet of cigarettes on the bedside table. She’s opening it, taking one from the box, when the phone rings. 
It makes her jump, but she answers it anyway. Maybe it’s Ryan? He was supposed to be here tonight. Maybe someone gave him the number? 
“Hello?”
“Hey, pretty girl.”
“Ryan, is that you? Where the hell are you? I have to be home at some point, you know.” 
“Take a chill pill, babe. Wanna hand me one of those?”
Liz’s brows shoot up. “Huh?” she asks, more than confused. 
“A cig, hon’.” 
Liz spins around, but Ryan isn’t who’s standing in the doorway, tucking a phone into the pocket of his jeans. Her heart starts to pound when she takes in what the person is wearing. “This isn’t a costume party, dipshit.”
The masked figure cocks his head, teasing. 
Eddie steps further into the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. The wood slams in the quiet of the room, muffling the music spilling down the hallway. 
“Ryan, stop acting like a child. This is a major waste of my time, asshole.”
When the person speaks, a chill runs down Liz’s spine, as if someone were dragging a single fingernail across her skin, trying to rile her up and most definitely succeeding. That is not what Ryan sounds like. 
“Guess all that private school education didn’t really help much, did it, Lizzie?”
Lizzie. The only person who’s ever called her that is Ryan. “Take that stupid mask off, would you?”
He dodges the question, just as she had his. Usually he doesn’t chat this much, but he feels like being a cocky bastard tonight. After all, what’s the point if he doesn’t let himself have a little fun? 
“Ryan was so easy, you know. Didn’t really even have to try.”
Her heart is pounding now. It’s starting to hurt. This isn’t right. “W-what are you talking about?” She takes a step backwards, thinking maybe she can get to the balcony door. 
Eddie takes the very same step. He knows where she’s headed. Seems she’s gonna make it real simple for him too. He almost wants to laugh about it. 
“He’s not coming tonight, babydoll. Sent me instead.”
Liz turns suddenly, reaching for the glass door. Eddie lets her think she’ll get away with it. He pretends like he couldn’t get to her in two quick strides, considering how much shorter than him she is. The lock clicks, and she’s pulling it open. 
Eddie’s quick though.
He grabs her wrist hard enough to bruise, hard enough that he can feel her bones. He slams the woman up against the door, her head smacking against the glass. Liz lets out a wail, though it’s nothing like the cry she lets out when Eddie’s blade meets the flesh of her stomach. 
The knife plunges into her abdomen once, twice. Swift little movements. Calculated. She screams, but it doesn’t matter because the music radiating from the lower floor of the fraternity drowns out everything. It had given Eddie such an easy in. 
He moves away from her just long enough to push the door open the rest of the way. Liz drops to the floor, tears dripping onto the carpet, blood smearing against the glass behind her and seeping into the silky top she’d put on. 
She starts to crawl over the threshold to the balcony. This time Eddie does laugh, though the sound is so different from his usual chuckle, the little voice box in his waistband fixing it up for him. “Where you goin’ blondie?”
Eddie yanks her up by the sides, hand grazing the wounds he’s just given her. He’s gonna have to wash this robe extra well tonight. 
He squeezes her, just to be mean. Liz screams. 
He’s pushing her now, because she’s losing too much blood too fast, and can’t really keep herself upright anymore. 
Eddie heaves her up just a little bit further, and then he’s shoving her over the balcony railing where she flips and falls, crying until there’s a deafening thud, and then she goes quiet. He looks over the edge at where her figure is splayed out on the concrete, a dark puddle growing around her skull. 
Eddie wipes the blade of his knife against the shimmery black fabric covering his thigh and heads back inside. 
He grabs the cigarette she’d dropped, and leans back outside to strike a match against the brick wall of the building. He lights it, lifting his mask a smidge to take a drag, and then he hops over the other side of the balcony, sneaking off across the roof and down the gutter on the other side of the frat house.
————
He’s late. Forty-five minutes late.
You finished with your midterms, and he said he’d take you to dinner. 
You haven’t seen Eddie much this week, and he’s missed several of your goodnight calls, chalking it up to being out late. You don’t care what Eddie gets up to. It’s not like you’re in charge of him—but it still hurts when he knows you like to hear his voice before bed. 
You decide to call him, but only after it’s been ringing and ringing do you remember he was coming from another fucking party. 
When it’s been an hour, you get your keys, trying your best to remember the address of this fucking house. 
————
Eddie never really dealt at parties in high school. No one would’ve let a guy like him just roam around. But college parties are so much more open. Everyone’s so oblivious. 
There’s a patio light on in the backyard. He stalks across the garden, a little giddy. He shouldn’t be having this much fun, but he is. 
Eddie drags the tip of his knife across the siding of the house. The blade leaves a fine scratch in the paint. 
The boy sitting in the wicker chair, back poorly bent over the tabletop, doesn’t hear shit as Eddie creeps up. 
Keith shakes the baggie he’s been assembling and compares the weight to the others he’s finished. It’s even enough. He scrapes a little of this and a little more of that into a few more and decides that should be enough for the rest of the night. 
Eddie recognizes the song coming from the kids headphones. Good soundtrack to go out to he supposes. 
He reaches for the cord attached to the guy’s walkman, and pulls it upwards in one swift motion, quick enough that Keith doesn’t even realize it’s happening until the wire is wrapped around his neck. 
He starts to splutter, dropping the credit card he’d been using to separate the drugs. He’s caught off guard, and Eddie uses this to his advantage, yanking the boy from his chair and into a standing position. 
The chair falls backwards onto the gravelly patio. The boy scrambles for purchase, legs kicking in fear, though it only fucks his chances up more, because he’s practically throwing a tantrum.
Eddie doesn’t like this. 
He tugs the headphone cord once, as hard as he can, cutting off the kid’s air supply. It straightens him out. 
“Come on, don’t you want to make this simple?” Eddie taunts.
He pushes the boy to the ground. Keith winces as the rocks scrape against the skin of his back where his shirt has ridden up. 
Eddie laughs because it’s like the guy thinks this is the worst pain he’s going to feel tonight. And then he laughs some more because of how sick it sounds with the voice modulator.
The boy tries to get up, and Eddie lets him. He glances at the table and shakes his head. Eddie might deal, but he knows better than that shit. 
Keith gets to his knees, and Eddie raises his leg. His boot meets the other boys chest with an audible thud, enough to knock the wind out of him. 
Keith falls again, smacking his head against the wooden fence post behind him. He hits a nail, and his scalp starts to bleed. He lets out a whine. It’s almost childlike.
With a grunt, Eddie heaves the boy up by the collar. He throws him backwards, and goes to pull out his knife.
There’s a noise, though, that stops him. This sick, fleshy noise and a garbled scream. 
Keith is impaled on a wind spinner. His body sinks into it, the sharp feathers that make up the contraction sinking into the top of his back. He’s crying now, and Eddie is annoyed by the sound. 
He shakes his arms out and slits the boy’s throat. A perfectly straight line, just deep enough for him to shut the fuck up. 
Eddie drags his hand along the blade, cleaning the blood off, and turns to where the walkman lays fallen on the ground. 
He takes the tape out, and tucks it in his back pocket. 
————
“Mindy? Hey, have you seen Eddie?”
The girl from your English class slurs her words. You’re not entirely sure she’s all there.
“Hey! So glad you’re here, honey.” She drops off, staring at the table full of liquor bottles.
She looks back up at you when you don’t go away. “Sorry, what did you ask?”
You fight the urge to roll your eyes. “Eddie? Have you seen him?”
She’s quiet a moment, and you can tell she’s struggling to sort through her alcohol-muddled thoughts. 
“Uh, y-yeah.” The lightbulb. “He was towards the back of the house, I think?”
“Thanks, Mindy,” you say, and you’re gone before she can even comprehend your appearance fully. 
Eddie isn’t in the kitchen, or the living room where it looks like two kids are about to start going at it in a La-Z-Boy.  
You spot the patio doors and think it wouldn’t hurt to check. The lights are on, after all. 
You pull the door open, and it screeches on its hinges. You shut it behind you.
The backyard is bigger than you expected, expansive and fenced in, and the patio itself has obviously been worked on quite a bit. 
Something in the corner catches your eye. You step closer, though you have this sick feeling that you shouldn’t. That this is none of your business. That you shouldn’t have come out here. 
The broken body of a kid your age lays before you, blood spilling down his front and into the gravel below. He’s bent so oddly that it makes you shiver—half of him on the ground, half slumped against and in the wind spinner. It’s morbid, seeing it like this.
You take in a sharp breath of air, and then suddenly there’s a gloved hand against your mouth.
The figure rushes you backwards until you’re pressed against the side of the house. The mask takes you off guard, but you don’t need him to take it off. You know exactly who’s under the flimsy covering. 
All at once, everything clicks. 
You reach for the hand covering his mouth, his hand, and pull it away from your face. The look in your eye, the fact that you’re not trying to run, makes him let you do it. 
He looks down, and tugs the glove off his other hand, the one covered in blood. He shoves the glove into his pocket and lifts his hand, slipping it into your hair, fingers gentle against the nape of your neck. 
He waits. He’s going to let you do it. 
You contemplate not doing it at all. 
But you do. 
You pull on the chin of the mask, lifting it up over his forehead. He smiles at you, cheeks flushed. 
He’s still my boy, you think. But you’re angry. His brow furrows as he realizes this. 
You spare at glance at the dead kid. “God dammit, Eddie, no!” you exclaim, your heart pounding as all of this seeps into your veins.
Something flashes across his face. He cocks his head at you. 
“Don’t raise your voice at me.”
You look at him in shock that he’s talking to you like this, and he mocks the look like you’re a child. 
You go to say something, anything, and he cuts you off. 
You chance looking at the kid again, but he places two fingers on your cheek, keeping your eyes on his. 
“I didn’t hurt anyone you care about, baby. I promised you I’d keep you safe, didn’t I? Huh?” Eddie is looking at you like you’re the only person in the world who matters.
You blink, grabbing hold of the hand now cupping your face. You play with the sleeve of his costume. 
“Answer me.”
“Yes. You promised me.”
Your eyes start to fill with tears because of how overwhelmed you are, how sudden this is. You try and will them away, and Eddie senses that. 
He has both hands in your hair now, using the leverage to tilt your head back and keep the tears from flowing. 
“None of that, okay?” 
You nod as best as you can. Eddie leans down and presses a kiss to the center of your throat. 
He gives you a second, and then moves your head back so you’re level with one another. You look into his eyes and he’s still in there. Your baby. 
“Need a kiss,” you say. 
His lips are on yours immediately, warm and full. He puts everything into it. Everything he’s feeling for you. 
When he pulls away, you look much more serious.
“Not gonna get caught, are you?”
He laughs. That low, sultry one. “Not plannin’ on it, honey.”
“Why?” You ask. He knows what you mean.
“They deserved it. Every last one of ‘em. Never hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it, sweetheart.”
You suck in a breath, keeping your eyes on his. 
“Mad at me?” Eddie questions.
“No.”
He nods this time. “Thought so. Listen, go ahead and drive to the restaurant for me, yeah? I’ll meet you there. Gonna take real good care of you tonight, okay?”
“Okay, Eddie.” 
“That’s my good girl.”
When he walks away, and you round the house to get in your car, there’s a little part of you that likes how he looks in the outfit. And you can’t believe that’s what you’re thinking about right now.
Eddie fucking Munson.
————
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