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nyyrami · 28 days

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WHEN THEY HAVE A NIGHTMARE . . . synopsis. sleep was meant to be a break from the terrors of the normal day world. but even sleep is not escape for your lover and nightmares plague the crevices of their mind…

tags. satoru gojo x reader, nanami kento x reader, toji fushiguro x reader. angst. hurt/comfort. nightmares. mentions of wounds and battles.death duh.

a/n. i love this trope sm i genuinely don’t know why lol. if you enjoyed a like or reblog would greatly be appreciated ty <3 dk why gojos one is so long, sorry I got carried away with it… this is not proofread so don’t come for me sfter spelling errors this was rotting in my drafts.

GOJO SATORU was no stranger to nightmares. as much as he would like to say he was unaffected by his battles. he was human at the end of the day and like a human he would suffer trauma from it. it was only when he’d met you and he first slept in the same bed as you that the nightmares ceased. wrapped in your warm, soft arms. it was as if he were being protected by some unknown force and the horrid dreams were driven away. but they were never gone always and some days his mind would recollect what occurred during the day—or even what happened years ago…

‘‘—suguru, stop—wait.’’

satoru runs through the crowd pushing past mindless civilians. they all have the same look on their face. that they have somewhere to be, and that this pesky boy pushing them was dreadfully annoying. he wouldn’t have cared. only that suguru wore the same face as them. he doesn’t know why he ran after his criminal friend. maybe he wanted an answer? or a reason on why he would leave behind everything. leave him, Y/N, shoko. he couldn’t fathom a reason on why he would do such a heinous crime—

‘‘what satoru? what’s done is done, we can’t turn back time and change it. im done trying to.’’

the world fades to black like spilled ink on parchment, his dear friend with it but sugurus purple eyes remain. a stark light in the darkness he can only hope to hold on to. but like sand it slips through his fingers and away and he curses. at himself or suguru? he doesn’t know. only that he wishes he were so much stronger. he knows he will never be.

satoru is somewhere else again. this time a familiar alley. the sun is setting the distance casting a beautiful glow. satoru has grown. he is no longer the boy he was years ago. he’s a man now and he has a family. one he can call his own and cherish and love. but now looking at the person sitting infront of him, he doesn’t feel like a man.

suguru sits on the alley flaw, clutching his now lost arm. blood is everywhere. his robe is torn to shreds leaving his chest bare and exposed but satoru can care less about that now. now he’s focused on his dying friend who he wishes to say a million things to but he doesn’t know where to start.

should he tell him he’s now married? that he’s so happy now? that he misses him? that he wishes he could come back? satoru cant bring himself to say anything.

‘‘…at least curse me a little at the end..’’ his purple eyes are twinkling in the low light and satoru realises he’s never realised how beautiful sugurus eyes were until now. how ironic in that moment he remembers you commenting on them one summer evening. saying how they were prettier than even gojos blue eyes. how they speak a million things in no words. the world slips away and all turns white for a split moment and satoru is suspended in time. he is everywhere and nowhere.

he is seeing all his memories at once rushing past him like birds in flight. he wishes to hold onto the good ones but they escape his reach.

soon he is another place again. this time it is unfamiliar. he sees you. standing in a train station, your back is turned to him but satoru can sense something is wrong. he could sense your problems a mile away no matter how hard you try to hide them. he calls your name and you turn.

slowly but surely you look at him and your eyes widen, arm stretching out to touch him. to feel him. he walks toward you, like a magnet. a bang echoed a throughout the quiet hall and it takes him so long to realise the bang is from you.

it happens so quickly satoru doesn’t even react in time. he stand frozen in his step arms reaching out to touch your saying figure, but the light has gone out in your eyes for some reason and your looking at him but your aren’t.

you fall to the ground with a loud thud and you can’t help but remind satoru of a dead body. he hopes you aren’t one but the hole in the back of your head suggests otherwise. your fingers twitch for a second and satoru holds onto the hope that you may well still be alive but it dies with you too.

he cries out, screaming your name to no avail. shaking your shoulders in an attempt to wake you up from your sleep. ‘‘—‘toru.’’ satoru is blinded by grief, his blindfold off and his blue eyes out he takes in the world with hyper awareness but it does nothing but reaffirm that your—

‘‘satoru—’’

satoru is shooting up. the covers of his bed falling to his waist revealing his bare chest to the cold but he couldn’t care less. his body is trembling and for the first time in what seems to be forever, he’s scared—

‘‘satoru, darling—its okay, I’m here.’’ yes you are. you are untouched snd unhurt. satorus six eyes confirms but the lingering feeling of believing you were dead haunts him. your arms are around him in seconds, his head now laying on your chest.

for the next few minutes, for the first in time in what seems to be forever, satoru cries. his arms wrapping around your waist he digs his head deeper into your chest, his grip turning hard but you couldn’t care less. your attention was on your husband.

for a few minutes you sit there. satoru relying on your heartbeat to keep him calm, he slowly regains his composure but the dull tremble in his limbs is still there and no matter how much he tries to breathe in and out it remains. you rub soothing circles into his back and he looks up at you from where he lays, you finally see the whites of his eyeballs have gone red from crying and the blue seems to be shining even more than usual.

‘‘’toru. wanna talk about it?’’ he shakes his head. later. you would speak about it later when he was more comfortable but now he would rest. after what happened it seems the energy has finally left his body and he yawns. despite what had just happened you can’t help but find your lover cute. sliding back under the covers, he once again wraps his arms around you. this time entangling his legs with yours. his feet are dreadfully cold. ‘‘i love you, satoru.’’ you whisper into his hair. you can practically feel his smile through your shirt.

‘‘’m love you too.’’

NANAMI KENTO was a busy man. during his time as a normal working person he didn’t encounter things he would say were, traumatising. it was only when he returned to the jujutsu world that the nightmares returned. the last time he’d ever had them were following the death of his friend, haibara.

nanami walked through the streets of Tokyo. eyes roaming the many people and shops. nothing seemed out of the ordinary. everyone was on their way either to work, school or some place else. it was the perfect day. the sun was out and the cloud was littered with bright white clouds.

summer had always been the best season in his opinion. not for the great feeling it brought or even the great weather. but the fact that it reminded him of his long gone friend. haibara. he’d died back in his jujutsu days. hat’s why when nanami stopped in the middle of a bustling crowd, eyes hooking on a familiar figure, he couldn’t believe his eyes.

haibara stood a few feet away from him. in his usual jujutsu uniform he wore all those years ago. he looks unchanged. still the young boy at school. unawares of his fate. nanami swallows the lump in his throat away and he wants to say something.

say what exactly? he thinks, say that he was sorry? for not saving him? for not finding some way to save him? for not being strong enough? he knows what happened wasn’t his fault in the slightest but survivors guilt stands strong.

haibara speaks and his voice is surprisingly the same. the passage of time brighter dulling it not evolving it with growth. it’s a haunting reminder that in-fact he is dead. he always will be.

‘‘…why didn’t you save me, nanami?' you could’ve. you should’ve.'’ yes he should’ve. no, he couldn’t. but the guilt is a never ending well and nanami has fallen down it once again and he can’t find his way out. he runs to his friend but he can’t be stopped. he falls like water to the ground and the scene switches.

this time nanami is standing infront of haibaras body. or what’s left of it at least. his friend is cut in half, a thin trail of blood leaking out of his mouth and sliding down his chin. in another world he would’ve scolded him for his mess. in another world it would’ve been drool, but the bright red is obviously blood.

the pain is a dull throb this time. he has felt this pain already before, the feeling is nothing new.

the body changes and to his shock, it becomes you. your staring at the sky, eyes dull and unresponsive. you looked beautiful. with the way your hair spilled around your shoulders like pools or maybe it’s the slight upturn of your lips that hint a smile is coming.

what were you laughing about? he wouldn’t ever know. maybe that’s why he’s calling your same, begging for an answer. begging you not to leave him like haibara. he can’t afford to lose you too. the one who’s laid claim on his once broken heart. sown together the broken fabrics of his heart. with you he felt complete. the only person since haibara who ever elicited the feeling out of him. nanami opens his eyes and he is no longer looking at your dead body.

instead he is on his bed, in his home. throwing the covers off his sweating skin, he sits on the side. head in his hands in order to calm his breathing.

minutes pass before he hears the rustling of the duvet and your warm arms wrap around him from behind. he can tell you’d just woken up from your sluggish movements

‘‘—kento.’’

you take in his slightly trembling form and all sleep leaves you. you proceed to sit next to him quiet but a reassuring figure. you don’t ask him what caused him such distress but you can guess by the way his hands hover above the scars he gained all those years ago.

nanami finally relaxes. his heart calming, he lens into your touch. featherlight and soft. it doesn’t take him long before he’s in your arms, lying on your chest and sleeping once more.

TOJI FUSHIGURO had a hard job. one many would definitely die on but he was different. and as cliché as it sounded, he was built different. for all those years he lived with the zeni’in clan he acquired a cold heart of stone.

a defense mechanism to stop himself from getting hurt. that was until he met you of course. it seemed for the first time in his life he wasn’t living on his feet all the time. he relaxed in your presence. laughed and even cracked jokes.

he didn’t know how much of a lover man he was before he met you. he thought he wasn’t capable of such love. how you turned his life around, he didnt know.

hed just come back from a mission one he’d gained a few injuries in but nothing bad. you still fretted over him. making a hassle when you saw his blood soaked shirt. he wouldn’t deny it, he did love you hassling him about his safety, it was quite endearing. you’d went to sleep not long after, toji following suite.

toji stood in a familiar house of tradition Japanese architecture. everything screamed, money, wealth and power. something the zen’in clan prided themselves on. power brought you more money and wealth in the jujutsu world, toji was no stranger to it. ‘‘—you don’t even have any cursed energy, you mistake.''

toji had not seen the members of his clan in years. their faces now blurred in his memory’s so much he believed he had gotten over what they did to him, but now their voices always made little toji stiff backed and immediately sweating.

the man behind him had white hair and a pointed moustache but his face was a blur of colour. it seemed he’d forgotten what exactly they looked like but their voices were as clear as the day.

the harsh slap through toji off his feet and to the ground with a loud thud. a few specks off blood flying out of his now bruised lip. he’d also apparently forgotten that they beat him on the regular. ‘‘—you stupid monkey. look how weak you are—cant even fight back.’’ the man’s harsh words were followed with a brutal assault of kicks. toji cursed himself, he’d never be strong enough to fight back against these demons of the zen’in clan, no matter what he did so he took the abuse. the man kicked for what felt like hours, only stopping when he was breathless and toji was bruised all over.

‘‘you should’ve died in the womb.’’

he should’ve, he thought. he should’ve died as an infant rather than face the shame of having no cursed energy. he’d never amount to anything in there eyes other than a filthy monkey. suddenly, the man became enraged. he yanked toji up by the collar of his robe, bringing him close to his blur of a face.

‘‘your no son of mine—’’

the world faded to black and toji opened his eyes to a quiet room. he wasn’t in the zen’in estate. he wasn’t in the—

he shot up. arm reaching for the knife he kept in a daw on the bedside table. unbeknownst to him, the movement stirred you from your sleep. you awoke, groggy eyed and confused, the space where toji was once sleeping was empt, him now standing by the balcony of your apartment.

‘‘toji, what happened—’’

your words cut off when you saw the glint of something sharp in his hand. a knife. he was holding a weapons, but why— had someone come? questions flew around your brain score your eyes caught the glint of clear liquid on his cheek. you pieced two and two together and came to the conclusion he’d woken from a bad dream.

sliding out of bed. you walked up to toji, making sure not to startle the tensed man before you laid a warm hand on the expanse of his back. toji still didn’t turn, his face dutifully turned away from you. to hide what you already knew, you guessed.

trailing your hand down his arm, you hovered over his rock hard grip on the handle of the knife. coaxing him to let the weapon go. it didn’t take long before the muscles relaxed and he allowed you to take it away.

you didn’t speak for a few minutes before toji turned to fully face you. dried streaks of tears on his cheeks. he wasted no time in gathering you in his arms. his head hiding in the crook of your neck. you rubbed soothing circles into his bare back and before long you guided him back to bed whispering sweet nothing into his mop of dark hair.

©SATURVUE do not copy, repost or plagiarise my work. likes and reblog sre greatly appreciated <3

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru angst #nanami kento x reader #nanami angst #toji x reader #toji fushiguro #toji fushigro x reader #toji angst #honkai star rail #genshin impact

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saberlight1 · 5 months

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can’t help fallin’ in love — coriolanus snow

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

warnings: slight tbosas spoilers, mentions of trauma, depression, standard ballad of songbirds and snakes warnings.

authors note: another one!! i am a goddamn writing machine these days lmao. i wanted to write something lovey dovey about my boy, i think i may have gone a lil overboard but this app is seriously lacking coryo fluff fics. i hope you enjoy soft coryo as much as i do! <3

masterlist

Coriolanus sat with an emotionless look on his face as he sat on the rocky train that was taking him to his worst nightmare. He was being shipped off to District 12 for cheating to help you win the games. He didn’t regret that, he never would.

But this was not the ideal outcome he’d imagined.

At least he wouldn’t be completely alone— after all, he was going to your district. He just wished it was under different circumstances.

“You know, I thought I might find you here,” Sejanus’ words caused him to turn around immediately, breaking him from his thoughts. “Sitting all by yourself.” He teased, walking into the train cart Coriolanus was currently in.

“Sejanus, what’re you doing—” He stood up, his eyebrows knitted together in concern and annoyance.

“What do you think?” He cut him off with a scoff. “After what I did in the arena? My father had to buy me the Academy a brand new gym just so I could get my diploma.” He put his bag down. “He begged me to stay, but once I found out where they were sending you, I couldn’t get out fast enough.” He admitted with a sigh, moving to sit down. “Barely made the train ‘cause of this stupid knee, but it’s okay, they gave me some morphling for the pain.”

Coriolanus looked at him with judgment. “You volunteered for this?”

“I figured if I get through basic and then maybe I’d become a medic.” He beamed. “Maybe make a real difference out here… just like you said.” Sejanus’ gaze turned downward. “They never told us what you did,”

“I cheated.” He answered, shamelessly. “To save Y/N from the snakes.” Sejanus’ nodded slowly, understanding where his friend was coming from. After a beat of silence, Coriolanus’ tearful eyes met his. “Do you think they killed her?”

“Why would they risk it?” Sejanus questioned with furrowed brows. “She was a big hit, if there is a games next year, they’re probably gonna invite her to sing at the opening ceremony.” He joked with a smile.

Coriolanus didn’t laugh. “You know, when you came in, I was weighing the merits of suicide.” He half-joked, his smile not meeting his eyes.

“When we’re about to be free?” Sejanus shot back. “When the girl you risked everything for might be waiting for you at the end of this track?” At his words, Coriolanus’ throat ran dry, the tears returning to his eyes. The possibility that you might be waiting not even crossing his mind. Sejanus looked at him with a knowing glint in his eye. “My friend, don’t give them the satisfaction. Your life has just begun. You’re gonna do great— We’re both gonna do great.”

Sejanus’ words still rung in his ears, even if they were spoken all those months ago.

Even now, when you were delicately tucked under his arm, your head buried in his neck as you slept soundly. That conversation seemed to take home in his mind, never leaving.

You were, in-fact, waiting for him, and the moment you saw him you ran into his arms, and he cherished you every day from that moment. The pair of you spent as much time together as you could, and you loved every second of it. As did he.

You were like a star of brightness in his darkness— lighting up places he didn’t even know existed and granting them with your warmth. And now that you weren’t fighting for your life, he got to learn so much about you.

He learned about your quirks, your personality, your smile, all of it. You learned the same about him.

But nights like these where he couldn’t find sleep and was left up alone, the silence and ringing of the bugs outside consumed him, the man getting caught up in the ropes that was his thoughts.

He often didn’t believe he deserved you, that you were too pure for him. You were gifted to him by mistake, but he was too selfish to let you go.

And, God, you never wanted him too.

Coriolanus had a bad habit of not speaking his mind, and bottling his emotions until they bubbled over, everything coming out in one out burst of rage and sadness. You didn’t blame him, you never did. Instead, you picked him up from the floor and held him until he calmed down.

He had never experienced the type of love you gave him, and it scared the shit out of him. He didn’t know how to return it, he wasn’t good with kind of stuff. You taught him things everyday, though.

You snuggled deeper into his neck, his uneven breathing causing you, a light sleeper, to wake up. Or, according to your theories, you were so interlinked with Coryo that you could sense when he was overthinking.

You left a small patch of kisses on his throat, cracking your sleepy eyes open to confirm your suspicions— the boy was staring off into space, not a drop of sleep in his eyes.

“Coryo,” You whispered, leaning up to kiss his jaw softly. He turned at your acts, his eyes meeting yours as his previous frown was replaced with that lovey smile you adored. “Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head, temporarily pushing you off of him in order for him to turn on his side to properly look at you. Once he got situated, he pulled you back into his chest, a giggle leaving your lips.

Your fingers came up to knead through his messy platinum locks. “What’s on your mind, baby?”

His eyes fluttered closed for a moment. “Nothing.. it’s just, sometimes I think you may be too good for me.” He admitted slowly.

Your eyebrows shot up. “Coryo, if anything, you’re too good for me. Remember, honey, I’m ‘District Trash’.” You laughed, repeating the words Lucky Flickermen had said about you before wrapping your arms around his neck and leaving kisses all over his face. “You must be a fool if you can’t see how in love I am with you. You are more than good to me, I couldn’t imagine my life with anyone else.” You promised, continuing to leave kisses on your lover’s smiling face with every word you spoke.

His arms wrapped around your waist, hugging you closer to him. “I love you,” He whispered in your ear, beginning to leave his own kisses on your neck and jaw.

Butterflies creeped up your spine at his confession, a love-sick smile tugging on your lips as you leaned up to really kiss him.

His hands came up to cup your face as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, the kiss only being further fueled with your burning passion for each other. Your hands slipped back into his locks for purchase as the kiss grew more needy. You let out a whimper against his mouth when he began to kiss you harder, angling your body back to deepen it further.

He smirked against your lips at your noises, before pulling back for air. His thumb swiped back and forth across your cheekbone as you both stared at each other, love strong in the both of your eyes.

“I love you, Coryo.” You whispered back, before taking your spot back in his arms. “Get some sleep, my love.” You left another kiss on his throat, the boy hugging you somehow closer, leaving a kiss on your forehead.

“Thank you,” He softly spoke, leaning up to blow out the candle you had lit earlier.

“Always,”

#coryo snow #coriolanus my bae #coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #coryo x reader #coryolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow fluff #coriolanus x you #corio snow #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #coriolanus fanfiction

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brownskinlemon · 3 months

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can you write aaaa… dominic fike x reader/gf surprises him after a show overseas and they have sum great ‘i mmissed u’ sex ? 💋✨

pairings: dom/fem!reader gf

word count: 2,047

warnings: smut, multiple 0rg@sms, fluff, swearing

authors not: this was super fun to write! ty for the requests <3

Bass boosted through the venue, an electric guitar riffing in the distance as you watched your boyfriend through a small tv in the green room. You were sitting on the couch, excitedly toying your fingers against the worn leather as you waited for Reed to give you the okay to head to Dominic’s hotel. It was 9pm already, you had been here for an hour, all without Dom’s knowledge. You had to see him perform before heading there to surprise him.

It started with the expected loneliness that filled your apartment when he left for tour, and then a not-so-silly idea as he joked on the phone.

“I wish you could come see me in New Zealand.” He chuckled, you two talked for a bit more until you decided to pretend to head to bed. As he headed to sound check somewhere in Europe, you stayed up late, searching for the nearest ticket to meet him in New Zealand. It had taken some sneaky conversations with Reed and some planning but you had formulated a plan to surprise him in NZ.

Now, here you were, pulled out of your trance by Reed poking his head into the green room.

“He’ll be off in about 25. Driver’s outside and it’s about a 15 minute drive away.” He smiled softly.

You hopped up, following him down a dark hallway and exiting out through a side door, swiveling your head around as you headed to a blacked out SUV, surprised to find no fans waiting outside the venue.

“They’re on the other side.” Reed chuckled, reading your mind. “Here’s the hotel key. Now shoo!” He joked, urging you into the car.

The ride to the hotel was calm and beautiful, the sights of Auckland keeping you in awe. You arrived at the Sofitel hotel, trying to maintain your composure at how grand and pristine the building was. The lifestyle that Dom had created for you was still too much to take in at times.

After checking in, you headed to the bar to pass time, wanting to give Dominic time to shower. You knew how hard we went at shows, and you figured he’d want to be clean and refreshed to be surprised. The sexual tension that had been laced in you two’s recent texts hinted to you what tonight could look like.

While waiting, you got a text from Reed:

“He headed up to the room about 15 ago, you should be all good to go. Good luck xx.” You were suddenly overcome with nervousness as you made your way to the elevator. You two had been together for about 2 years and you still couldn’t help the nervousness that overcame you when you were reunited with him. You chewed gently on your bottom lip, tapping your foot as the elevator made its way to the penthouse suite. After tapping your key, you gently opened the door, closing it behind you and crossing your fingers in hope that he was still in the shower. As you made your way through the suite, you were met with ever growing sounds of music echoing in the bathroom, paired with the steady pour of the shower. You tiptoed past the bathroom door, making your way to the bedroom, gently closing the door behind you.

You kicked off your shoes, eyes catching yourself in the mirror, eyes scanning over the tight sundress you had decided on for today. Your eyes scanned over the room, suddenly met with a view that couldn’t be described as anything less than stunning. It was a top floor view, overlooking the whole city, the colorful lights gently illuminating the dim room.

You were taken out of your trance by a sudden deep voice behind you.

“What the fuck”

You turned on your heels, eyes caught onto Dom in the doorway, clad only in pajama pants and his jaw agape as he tried to register that you were here, right in front of him.

“Surprise…” You said breathlessly with a shy smile, heart racing in your chest as if you were seeing him for the first time.

He strided over to you silently, lifting you up into his large arms, engulfing you in his scent. He dug his face into your neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing each other tighter than ever. After a few moments, he placed you on your feet gently, hands laced behind the small of your back as he ogled down at you like a schoolboy with a crush.

“You are fucking insane! How did you pull this off?” His voice slightly raspy from his concert earlier in the night.

“Blame Reed. He’s sneaky and an enabler. I came to him as a joke and he helped me figure it out.” You chuckled, smiling up at him.

“I missed you so much today you have no idea.” He sighed contently. He leaned forward, kissing you slowly, leaning back a moment later to leave his forehead on yours.

“Is that so? Wanna show me how much?” You slyly remarked, suddenly hyper aware of the desire pooling your insides and raising your temperature.

His eyes shifted between yours, a darkness began to circle them as he realized what you meant. He nodded silently, grabbing your face with his hands and kissing you fervently, almost making your knees buckle. Your tongues danced together and he pulled you up into his arms again, finding the desk near the window to sit you on.

He pulled himself to stand between your legs, grabbing your neck gently and tilting it back for easy access to mark you. He switched between lightly ghosting over your most sensitive spots to littering marks all over your neck, driven on by the whines that left your throat.

He pulled back to scan over your body, hands running up and down your inner thighs..

“This dress looks, really fucking good on you. And it's…” His hand ghosted lightly over your clothed clit, making you gasp. “Easy access.” He smirked innocently at your reaction.

You whined at the loss of contact, hands gripping onto his biceps and eyes pleading up at him. He understood what those whines meant, cueing you to lift up as he gently pulled your panties off, throwing them somewhere in the large room. Your breath stalled in your chest at how he lowered himself onto his knees, keeping eye contact with you as he teased between your inner thighs, extremely close to where you needed him most.

“Dom please I-” You were suddenly cut off by his pink lips wrapping around your clit, making you let out a high pitched sound at the sudden surge of pleasure, arching up into arms and leaning your head back onto the window behind you.

You couldn’t help the way your hips grinded up into his tongue that circled you so skillfully, one hand laced in his curls, the other dug into the edges of the desk, desperate to find anything to hold onto. He hummed into you from contentment, enjoying the sounds spilling from your mouth, as you became a babbling mess of moans and echoes of his name. Your eyes rolled back as he slowly and gently worked one, and then two of his long fingers into you, pressing deeply at your g-spot not losing his rhythm between your legs.

Your legs tensed as a coil in your abdomen began twisting and alerting you and him to the way you were about to become undone.

“Cmon baby...look at me..” He cooed gently, not stalling his pace. You forcefully looked down at him through squinted eyes that were threatening to close at any moment. “Give it to me, pretty girl.” Your breath ran ragged, the way the lights danced across him, the innocent look in his eyes despite what he was currently doing sent you over the edge. Your eyes squeezed together as you thrashed in his arms, coming undone with a series of ragged moans, riding out your high as he began to draw back on his torture between your legs.

Your head stayed laid back and eyes stayed closed as you attempted to catch your breath. You heard Dominic shuffle to stand up. Your head snapped up and eyes caught onto his as the tip of his length gently rubbed the entrance of the ache between your legs. One hand held the small of your back up while the other held the base of his length. He groaned quietly at the sight of your wetness that had pooled between your legs. He gently let you adjust to his size, working into you inch by inch, eyes trained onto your face to watch for your reactions. You both moaned in unison as his hips met yours, his hands leaning over to the window behind you, hiking your leg up.

“You feel so amazing my god “ he groaned. His thrusts began gently, rocking into you at a steady pace. You looked up at him, mouth agape, as he coaxed you through it gently. “So p-pretty. Good girl.”

“Harder Dom- please baby, please.” You begged. He didn’t stall, picking up his pace, the sound of his hips colliding with yours and your increasingly loud moans filled the room. You clung to him, hands around his back as he pounded into you. His lips collided with yours suddenly, the kiss filled with passion.

“I love you..i love you..i love you..” He mumbled desperately against your lips, moving deeper than before.

“I l-love you” You managed to get out through your moans.

He kissed you deeply again, leaning back to gently pull out and flip you to stand on your feet facing the window. You felt his breath ghost over your ear as he whispered gently.

“The view is almost as pretty as you. Wanted you to see it too..” He said, gently smirking at the way your body shivered from the kisses he traced down your neck and back, gently teasing the tip at your entrance again before sliding back into you, leaving your mouth agape. He gently pressed down on your back, queuing you to relax over the desk. He resumed his earlier pace into you, kneading at your ass that was positioned up to him. One hand made its way around you to grip the sides on your neck, the other finding its way between your legs.

The combination of the delicious pressure on your neck coupled with the circling of your clit left you feeling dizzy and your knees buckling.

“Holy shittt” You whined, tears pooling in the corners of your eyes. If he kept going the way he was, you weren’t going to last for long. Your hand went up to cup his hand around your throat gently.

“Can you give me one more baby? I know you can..c'mon..” He cooed in your ear,relishing in the way that his words made you clench down on him.One particular thrust made you finally come undone for the second time, forcing you up on your tippy toes, eyes rolling back as you cried out Dominic’s name like a mantra.

He finished soon after, pulling out with a gasp, and finishing on the curve of your ass. He leaned over you, placing his head on your shoulder as you stood shivering, trying to come back to reality.

“Good job baby.” He smiled as he kissed your cheek.

You smiled gently as you came to, opening your eyes to fully take in the view in front of you.

“What happened to your fear of heights?” You toyed, turning in his arms.

“Fear of heights can’t beat the orgasm I just had not gonna lie.” He deadpanned, making you weakly laugh. He scooped you up, forcing you to pee while he ran you two a bath, shortly making both of your ways to relax in the water with your back against his chest.

“I feel lucky, so many girls wish they could have.. that but only got an autograph.” You smiled lazily

“Oh trust me you got a few signatures of your own” He smirked, pointing at your neck “Seven to be exact.”

You jokingly rolled your eyes. Relaxing against him, you were just grateful to be back in his arms again.

#dominic fike #dom fike #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike smut #nz

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ghost-proofbaby · 1 year

Text

twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR SEVEN

in which you come to a few realizations while remembering the very first night you'd met eddie. a phone call with steve leaves you with more questions than answers.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, heavier angst this chapter but all will be well soon, two uses of y/n, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ word count: 4.4k+

→ a/n: shorter chapter today but the focus here is the memory! finally making some progress haha. also trying out something new with formatting/the summary situation. if i hate it, i'll probably change it. <3 also, italicized portion is a memory.

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

7:00 ────ㅇ────────────── 24:00

DINGUS: [image attachment]

DINGUS: y/n just texted me this. we’re not getting an update this hour.

BIRDIE: what the hell happened?

DINGUS: she hasn’t said yet, as you can see in the photo, robs.

ARGYLE 😎: what do we THINK happened?

BIRDIE: my best bet is fighting?

ARGYLE 😎: lover’s quarrel? Makes sense.

BIRDIE: i’m adding nance back into the chat

BIRDIE added NANCE to the groupchat.

BIRDIE: @NANCE explain what you meant earlier please. we’re having a code red. the bad kind.

DINGUS: there’s a good kind of code red?

NANCE: Oh God, what happened?

DINGUS: y/n texted me saying she fucked up, and we’re assuming either she’s finally murdered eddie, or they’re fighting again.

NANCE: I can call Eddie, if you guys want?

JOHNNY: So does this mean we’re all $500 richer?

BIRDIE: @JOHNNY if you still think this is about the money, you’re a fucking idiot

—

HOUR SEVEN - 10:00 PM

There had been a time in your life where you believed you didn’t hold a single mean bone in your body. A time where you were soft-spoken, a time where you overflowed with kindness and dotted out compliments to random strangers. There was once a version of you in this lifetime that worked so fervently to be the type of person people liked and enjoyed the company of. You always swore to always treat others with the same grace as you would prefer to receive as well.

A year ago, that version of you had been sidetracked.

You stare at the wooden frame of Eddie’s door with blank eyes. He wasn’t going to open it any time soon. You’d tried knocking multiple times, calling out to him in a soft voice, begging and pleading and begging and pleading. His response continued to be silence.

“All I’ve ever done is hurt you.”

With the haze clearing, in the midst of the aftermath and sour clarity, you wish you would have corrected him. Eddie and you had surely hurt each other countless times, but it is not all he’s ever done.

You can remember the better moments clearly now. The time you’d tripped walking up the steps of one of the bars on Main Street, and Eddie had been the only person in your friend group to stop completely, reflectively reaching out to catch you from embarrassing yourself. The night of your birthday, in which he hadn’t come to the party due to “work” as Steve had explained, but had sent a card along with your friends that contained a gift card to your favorite coffee shop. You hadn’t even realized he knew your favorite coffee shop, and you’d come to find out that he didn’t even ask a single one of your mutual friends for it. You’d brushed it off as a lucky guess. And there was the time you’d forgotten your wallet during a brunch with the group, and he hadn’t hesitated to pick up your bill with his own. He didn’t even give Robin the chance to argue; he’d simply snatched your bill from across the table when you’d paled as you dug through your bag, and didn’t say a word about you paying him back.

Small moments. Glimpses of kindness, bandages on wounds that you’d been ignoring to keep up a war between the two of you that you’d always assumed he’d started.

Eddie Munson wasn’t the enemy, and the first night you two met was never a red herring; it was a glimpse into who he actually was. A clear look past the armor he hadn’t formed yet when it came to you.

—

A YEAR AGO

“They’re going to love you!” Robin insists as she continues to shove you from behind through the entrance of the bar. Steve is ahead of you, guiding you through the rough crowd to the table the rest of the group had already snagged.

You turn your head over your shoulder, reaching up and grabbing the hand that Robin rested on you, “You don't know that. What if they hate me? What if they think I’m the worst person they’ve ever met?”

Even as you wore a smile, there was a truth to the fear in your words. You were petrified that these strangers, strangers who meant so much to your only friends on campus, would turn their noses to you. There was nothing Robin or Steve could do to extinguish the fear. It was already a terrible knot in the pit of your stomach, tying and untying itself like a nuisance as Steve started to wave at a brunette who had been scanning the bar as if waiting for someone.

She’s pretty. Wavy hair barely brushing her shoulders, sharp features accentuated in the shadows of the busy location. The moment her blue eyes locked on Steve, all the concentration on her face faded to be replaced with an excited smile.

She returns the wave, and the boys surrounding her at the table all glance in your direction.

You’re still half-hidden behind Steve as the three of you approach the group. Robin bounds out from behind you, scooping the woman you assumed was the famous Nancy into a barrelling hug. Your eyes flickered to the boy sat to Nancy’s right, shaggy hair flopping against his forehead and smile creases exposed as he nods to Steve and holds up his drink in greeting. Beside him, another man sits, long and shiny hair flowing over an outrageous Hawaiian print shirt and topped off with a baseball cap that looked to be the merchandise of a pizza shop. His smile is welcoming – something comforting in the relaxation of it.

You’re almost completely captivated by the warmth that bled from the group when Steve and Robin are suddenly taking their seats. Robin sits beside Nancy, while Steve takes the seat across from the man with long hair.

The only seat left open was between Steve and a man who’s back was turned to you.

His hair is in a loose bun, unraveling against the nape of his neck. You could see each and every defined curl. His broad shoulders stiffen beneath a leather jacket and denim vest, and his ring-clad hand cradles a short glass of something dark, something fizzy.

“Alright, everyone!” Steve announces, turning and beckoning you to take this seat. Your stomach twists again, realizing you’d be sitting beside a stranger. One who had yet to even spare you a glance, “This is Y/N.”

There’s rounds of greetings and introductions as you brush shoulders with the stranger to take your seat, and try as you might to keep up, all you can focus on is not looking at him.

You’re guess was correct – the pretty girl that Robin had hugged was Nancy. The boy with floppy hair at her side was Jonathan, and the man with long hair told you his name is Argyle. His tone of casualty matches the comfort of his smile as he holds a hand out to you across the table, both your elbow and his brushing against empty baskets once filled with bar food as you shake.

Finally, you turn to look at the stranger beside you, Steve reaching around to clasp his shoulder.

“And mister oh-so-welcoming here is Eddie.”

Eddie. He finally turns to look at you, with doleful eyes and a tight-lipped grin, and you almost forget how to breathe.

He was intimidating. All broodish glances and stand-offish energy. But then Argyle cracks a joke, and suddenly, it all fades. The air in the room crackles frantically as you watch him chuckle slowly at first, until he finally descends into cackles with Steve and Jonathan alike.

That’s when the first vine sprouts.

The second one does when the conversation becomes overwhelming, and you find yourself lost amongst the sea of new friends. They’re nothing but friendly, trying to learn more about you but easily falling into well-established inside jokes at times. When you descend into silence as you watch them recount a story of a time that Argyle snuck them into his job after hours, you suddenly feel Eddie lean in closer to you.

“I think they tell this story every time they get drunk,” he whispers, tilting his head so that the words only reach your ears, “I’ve probably heard it a hundred times by now.”

You bite back a smile, “Just tonight, or the entire time you’ve known them?”

“Both.”

You have to fight hard to swallow down giggles, Eddie hiding his with a sip of his drink. A waiter who had taken your order nearly ten minutes ago arrives with your own drink. An amaretto sour.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” he says as you taste the drink. Its citrus bursts across your tongue and you nod.

“So Steve mentioned.”

“Yeah, but I felt bad for not introducing myself,” he shrugs. You were facing him fully now, no longer trying to stick vehemently to Steve’s side. “I didn’t want to seem like a dick, just… had a long week.”

You knew all about long weeks.

“I get it,” you assure him, “Are you in school, too?”

“Night classes,” he supplies with a wave of his hand, “Midterms are a bitch, especially after working all day.”

“Tell me about it. I think I’m about ten seconds away from getting fired at my current gig,” you joke, and Eddie laughs. It occurs to you that you’d probably do just about anything to hear his laugh more, and already begin to conjure up terrible jokes to pull that sound from him once more. It’s even more comforting than Argyle’s friendly cadence, than Steve’s elbow knocking yours to remind you he’s still there.

“Why would you think that?” Eddie’s nose scrunches, more curls falling against his cheek. Your drink is immediately forgotten.

“He caught me talking shit,” another laugh falls from Eddie’s lips at your deadpan, more reserved than the previous but just as melodic, “I give it a week. He was already looking for a reason to send me to the chopping block. Says I talk too much to customers.”

“Is that even possible?”

“Apparently.”

For a moment, in the smoky bar, it’s just you and Eddie. All knotting nerves have been replaced by the weight of the vines that surge higher and higher in your chest, growing at impossible rates. They don’t strangle you like your fears of the night had; their weight is a comforting hold, something solid to reach out for in the unfamiliar territory of new socialization. Without the mask of intimidation, Eddie feels like an old friend.

You assume that everyone else is distracted by their own conversation, but Robin catches the way you lean into him as the two of you joke. She nudges Nancy subtly, and they both share a look when Eddie blushes at you being impressed as he tells you that his battle vest is hand-sewn.

Your vines are not as hidden as you assume they are, certainly not when the first bud of hopefulness begins to grow.

“So how long have you known Steve?” you ask him quietly, still under the guise of the two of you having created your own small bubble of a moment.

Eddie downs the last of his Jack & Coke, something you caught onto by smelling it on his breath when he had gotten particularly close to you during conversation, “Too long. We all met in high school, actually.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that,” you groan, and your forehead dramatically falls into his shoulder without second-thought. He stiffens beneath the connection, “I’m infiltrating a friend group that’s stood the test of times? I’m doomed.”

You nearly lift your head from his still stiff shoulder, afraid to make him uncomfortable, when he brings a hesitant hand to pat your back jokingly, “There, there. I think you’re fitting in fine.”

“Just fine? Ouch,” you finally lift your head as you had planned to, just as Eddie had begun to relax into your touch. His hand doesn’t fall too far from your back, resting on the back of your chair. His shy grin is impossibly charming, “You could have just said I’m crashing and burning, you know?”

The night carries on like that, you and Eddie lost in private conversations only to be occasionally dragged back in on whatever debate the group is having. It’s a spring reaction; once one or both of you have given your two cents, you return to one another, finding solitude in joking and Eddie updating you on the group’s ‘lore’, as he puts it. Steve shoots several glances in your direction, always prepared to offer comfort in what should be an overwhelming situation, but he never has to. Every time he glances at you, Eddie is already taking the lead of entertaining you, qualming all your anxieties into non-existence.

Your vines decorate with buds of hope. Every laugh you pull from Eddie, every fleeting touch that passes between the two of you, every new inside joke he decides to make with you rather than indulging in ones set in stone already with old friends - they all whisper of new friendship. They whisper in potential, in new beginnings and coming home after long weeks.

By the time Nancy announces she has to go to the restroom and invites you and Robin, you’re in full bloom. You’re convinced that Eddie is a friend. And you can see it in his eyes – he’s convinced of it too, looking nervous when you stand and agree to go with Nancy. He looks like a child about to lose their social crutch, and it has potential to be devastating.

It’s almost enough to make you ignore your bladder, but you need to pee, and you need to socialize with more than just Eddie tonight.

You’re not sure what happens at the table during your trip to the bathroom. But something surely does happen as you giggle with the girls under the humming lights of the restroom, as you all stand in the mirror side by side and fiddle with your hair and makeup and Robin makes a comment about how terribly cliche the moment is. Nancy slaps her on the arm, mutters something about the importance of girls bonding, and when you return to the table, you see it immediately – Eddie’s mask of indifference has returned.

His cheeks are flushed, and all the boys are sharing nervous glances between one another as you all sit down again.

There’s no more fleeting touches. You sip on your now watered down drink, and you try and pull Eddie out from wherever he’s ventured in your absence, but it’s no use. A conversation was had while you girls had been in the restroom, and it left Eddie in his head, out of reach. The buds of hopefulness quiver on their vines, and you try to reassure yourself that it’s nothing personal. It’s nothing personal when he clearly holds back any laughs at your jokes you lean into his space to whisper to only him, it’s nothing personal when his arm never rests on the back of your chair again, it’s nothing personal when he won’t meet your eyes the rest of the night.

It’s nothing personal, but it’s sorely disappointing.

You end the night, everyone splitting up, Eddie heading off towards his motorcycle. He hadn’t even mentioned driving a motorcycle during the night, and you curse the way you watch him straddle the seat as he secures his helmet over his tied-back hair. You desperately wish to know what was said while you were in the bathroom, what had happened to make him retreat so far from you after spending the entirety of the night tending to the greenery that had grown attached to your ribcage.

“You like him, don’t you?” Robin teases at your side, bumping shoulders.

Something aches in you. The thrill of meeting someone new, of getting along, of finding them cute and endearing, is beyond your grasp.

He didn’t even say goodbye.

“I did,” you whisper softly. A reverberation of past-tense, an exhale of worry.

You did. But he didn’t even say goodbye.

—

Eddie still hasn’t opened the door. But to his defense, you haven’t tried knocking again.

That ache from that night, the feeling of a delicate rush of possibility taunting you from a distance, still remains. Even amongst now rotted vines, even as petals fall from your hopeful buds. It never really went away. With each group hangout that followed, it echoed louder and louder, demanding to be heard and demanding to be felt as Eddie grew colder. You were an idiot the first few times; you’d still gravitated to him, falling right into his orbit and begging for his attention. You’d still seek him out in every room, craving to find the warmth that had once sparked in his eyes only to find them averted from you entirely. And when you couldn’t take the hint, when you wouldn’t leave him alone when Steve and Robin left you to your own devices at the hangouts, he became mean.

You took it as a joke at first, but six months ago, something inside of you finally wisened up – it wasn’t a joke. Eddie Munson hated you. Somehow, he hated you, and yet he also swore to protect you. He hated you, and yet he would still pay for you without you asking him to. He hated you, and yet he still remembered your birthday. He hated you, and yet, he still knew your favorite coffee shop.

He hated you and yet.

You stand, unable to take your racing thoughts anymore, moving to pound on the door again, “Eddie. Open the door.”

You’re not asking anymore.

You don’t care for answers any more. In this moment, you truly believe you could let it all be water under the bridge. Right this second, if you looked into honey brown eyes and goddamn dimples, you’d forgive him.

“Eddie,” your voice cracks, and you scorn yourself.

All I ever do is hurt you.

Even in locking himself away, he’s hurting you. Putting that distance, choosing to not work this out like adults, is hurting you.

“Can you- I don’t know, at least let me know that… that…” you trail off, huffing in frustration and finally smacking a flat palm against wood, watching the door shake on its hinges from your force, “Just let me know you’re alive, Jesus Christ, Eddie. We still have to take the stupid fucking photo for this hour, and we-”

Mid-tirade, the door swings open to reveal Eddie. He doesn’t look irritated, he doesn’t look mad. He looks tired.

The war between you two has weighed heavy on him, too. He doesn’t look like the same person you met a year ago. The battles raged, the fights lost, the victories celebrated through bloody teeth – they all show on the shadows of his face, a clear mirror image to your own.

“Take the photo,” he says in monotone, hardly leaving the door cracked enough to catch a proper glimpse of him.

“What?”

“The photo. Take it. For the chat, so you can get your money when it’s all over.”

You’re stunned for a second. The money hadn’t even crossed your mind; you had just been rambling, hoping to find the right thing to say to get him to unlock the barrier between you two.

Who the fuck even cares about the money anymore?

You do. You’re supposed to. And so is he.

You sigh and pull your phone from your back pocket, and turn your back to him before lifting the camera to capture the two of you. The door creaks open an inch more.

There’s no fun pose. There’s no smiles. There’s nothing. It’s even more lifeless than the first photo taken. You can’t stand to look at it longer than necessary as you send it off to the group.

Just as you turn around to face him again, to try and talk to him, the door shuts again. You can hear the soft click of a lock. The ache is heard, the ache is felt, as you refuse to look back at the wood that still separates you physically, at the emotions that separate you mentally.

You don’t really know why you do it. But you walk out to the living room, deciding against sitting outside the door any longer and continuing to make yourself miserable. Your feet carry you straight to the sliding door of his balcony, and you press outside into the cooler night air, shutting the door behind you.

What happened when I was in the bathroom that night?

The thought haunts you, a new ghost that had been lingering and gathering dust since that night. You never asked anyone, certainly not Eddie, and refuse to overthink it until now. But after tonight, after practically reliving your first encounter with Eddie all over again, the deja vu and the curiosity are winning over.

You dial Steve’s number.

“Hell-”

“Why do me and Eddie hate each other?” you blurt out, cutting off Steve’s greeting.

“I- What?” Steve’s confused, understandably so, “How should I know? I don’t keep a list of every time you rant about him to me.”

“What about him?”

“Okay, you know I love you, but I’m not a mind-read-”

“What about a list of every time he rants about me?”

Silence buzzes through the line, and you glance up at the night sky. It’s a cloudy black. The city pollution hides most of the stars, and from Eddie’s balcony, you can’t locate the moon.

“I also don’t have one of those.”

“Why not? Because, Jesus Christ, Harrington, I have questions-”

“Because he doesn’t rant about you. Especially not to me, but Nancy says he never talks about you usually either,” Steve explains in an even tone, still not sure how his answer should be helping you. You are the one, afterall, with Eddie right now.

Even if he is locked away in his room right now, refusing to speak to you.

“That makes no sense,” you sigh, exasperation creeping its way into your bones, “I rant about him all the time. I’ve bitched to you and Robin more times than I can count about him. He should be doing the same.”

Steve says your name softly, “Why are you asking me this?”

You laugh humorlessly and shake your head, even knowing Steve can’t see you, “It’s stupid. Forget it,” It’s not stupid to you, and you can’t forget it, but this doesn’t concern Steve, “Can I ask you one last question, though?”

“Shoot, babydoll,” you can’t help but grin at that nickname. Steve pulls it out at random, every time he’s trying to make you feel bad. He knows that neither of you can take it seriously.

“Um, that night you introduced me to everyone,” you begin, stepping up to wrap your free hand around the iron railing of Eddie’s balcony, letting the cold seep into your palm, “At the bar, you know?”

“Right…” he encourages, “What about it?”

“Me and Eddie got along,” you spit it out, letting it tear from your chest and score your throat on its way out, “We… we were getting along at first, and then I went to the bathroom, and when I came back, he…. He…”

He was gone. The Eddie I’d first met had vanished. Where’d he go? Why’d he go?

“Shit, your memory is way better than mine,” Steve chuckles, sounding nervous, “But, I mean, I kind of remember that. You two getting along, at least. Guess that’s why we all were really confused when you started hating each other. But I’m still not understanding the question - are you asking if I remember the night? Or if he’s ever talked about it? I was a jock, you’re gonna have to spell it out for my pea brain.”

“Stop insinuating you’re stupid,” you scold on instinct, scowl settling along your features as you lean onto the railing and glance down. It’s only two stories, but the ground feels impossibly far as you ask, “What happened when all us girls went to the bathroom? When we came back, he acted differently. Did he mention hating me that night? Did I leave a bad first impression? Was it all just a joke to hi-”

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down. One question, remember?” you’re sure Steve can hear the panting in your breath over the line, the way your chest heaves in the memory, “I’ve gotta be honest - I don’t remember. I know that’s probably not the answer you’re looking for, and I don’t know what’s going on with you two right now, but I was already well on my way to drunk. I think Jonathan and Argyle poked some fun at Eddie, maybe teased him about something, but I really can’t recall what it was about. Maybe his hair? Who knows?”

The answer isn’t helpful. It’s only more confusing, more hurtful.

He stopped joking with you because someone made fun of his hair? You lost access to the warmth buried beneath his surface because his friends teased him?

“Okay,” you sound defeated. You feel defeated – defeated by the weight of still feeling like an outsider, defeated by the barrier of some measly wooden door, defeated by the hurt in Eddie’s eyes as you admitted that he only ever hurts you, “Okay, thanks, Steve.”

You hang up before either of you say goodbye. When you pull your phone down from your cheek and ear, you see your phone still open to the photo of Eddie and you that you’d sent to the group.

You were wrong. There wasn’t only nothing. Your face may have been void of all emotions, but now looking at it, you can see Eddie’s isn’t.

He’s looking at you and not the camera during the shot, face crestfallen, eyes nearly teary as the corners of his mouth tucked downward.

He’s looking at you with regret, with sadness. He’s looking at you as if he can see the vines he’d planted in you, all rotted and dusting away, and he’s mourning them just as you had.

It’s bullshit, or your imagination, or your innate need for Eddie to bleed the same way as you have over your entire situation with each other. You lock your phone and don’t bother to look at the photo again as you enter the living room, as you toss your phone onto the loveseat, as you curl up on the couch and don’t even bother to go to ask for a pillow or blanket. He probably wouldn’t answer the door, anyway.

You don’t say goodnight to Eddie, just as he never said goodbye to you the first night, and wonder if he notices the absence of your salutation.

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#eddie munson #twenty four hours #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x y/n #feels so short of a chapter haha #angsty babes

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garfunklefield · 6 days

Note

Could you do cult leader! geto I’m so feral for this like he doesn’t care about his followers but reader is just so pretty and he wants to make her his lover for the whole cult to see PLS IM FERAL N I LOVE YOUR WRITING <3

Red Ink

18+ viewer discretion is advised

fem!reader/cult leader!Suguru Geto Warnings: angst, pining, slowish burn not really, selling and technically kidnapping, the reader has a sad backstory KAY [implied physical abuse], age gap [Geto is 37 and reader is 24], forbidden romance, im gonna make the reader sassy dx, alternate AU where Geto is a cult leader but it's set in more of an ancient time YOULL SEE [kind of like my happy marriage], bathtub masturbation, bathtub sex, sexual tension, cumshot [breasts], masochist!Suguru Geto, hair pulling, Word count: 7221 DESC: Suguru Geto never thought about giving a monkey who couldn't wield jujutsu a chance ... until he met you.

Hiii!!! I just got sick so please be patient my posts might get spaced out for a bit until I recover but I really like this! I took a few [A LOT] creative liberties when writing :3

If you want a guarantee I will write and post your request in a timely fashion head over to my Ko-Fi!

Every morning it was the same routine. Suguru would wake up at 7:45 AM every morning to an empty bed, with the lights a dull orange color. They hung from the room's corners and lit up just enough to let him peer around. He slowly forced himself off the squeaky mattress, becoming accustomed to the sensation of the cold wood against his bare feet. A breath of air flowed through his nose as his hand lazily trailed through his robes, hanging in his large closet. There were so many to choose from, all almost the same. Although, some details were different. Blue trim vs yellow, or a red pattern vs green. In all honesty, he never cared much about his appearance. As long as he wouldn’t have to leave, he didn’t mind his daughters or servants doing the shopping for him. Maybe that’s why the leader's hair was too long to manage, so he would lazily put half of it up in a semi-orderly bun.

All of these people, and Suguru Geto was completely and utterly alone. He had no one who understood why he decided to become the leader of the Star Religious group so young, almost twenty years ago, at the ripe age of seventeen. All of his innocence was lost at such an age that he could feel a bitter taste rising on the back of his tongue. Bile. The taste of regret. Sometimes he looked out the window to some of the convent’s children playing in the courtyard, and he wished he had found a partner to aid him on his journey. No one ever caught his eye, no one ever piqued his interest. No one like …

Suguru shook his head and blinked a few times, sending himself out of an impending spiral and instead leaving it for another day. He looked over to his robes, where his hand clung to his signature robe, yellow trim with a green pattern sewn to the front. There was something so comforting about this robe. Maybe because it was the first one ever made for him by his monkey servants, the only monkeys he’d ever let near his person without choosing to disinfect himself afterward. They knew their place in society and acted accordingly. The only monkeys he could tolerate.

Another sound took him out of his thoughts, a knock on the door. He turned his head, “Come in,” was all he had to rasp. His voice was naturally soft, as he didn’t typically raise it past a whisper to most. Only when Suguru was truly enraged would he begin to scream and yell at those useless monkeys… but that was becoming rare now.

A tuft of pink hair appeared from the door as it opened, showing his secretary Manami. She strolled in as if she owned the room, opting to close the door with a push to her hip. The male watched her with an indifferent gaze as she tapped the rickety clipboard in her hand, “I found you a personal servant.”

“Personal servant? Why would I need that? I’m capable of dressing myself, you know,” as Suguru spoke he began to pull at his sheer robe, the one he slept in. His secretary looked up to the ceiling, avoiding any and all contact with his body as she possibly could.

She tapped a pen along the rim of the clipboard as she continued, “Someone to make the bed and cut your hair. It’s getting too long, sir.” Manami swiftly raised her hand and pointed to him with the pen, still avoiding his body with her eyes up. He raised an eyebrow at her, shrugging off the robe and setting it neatly on his bed. His jaw flexed as he clenched it, in thought. Would the leader of the Star Religious group need a personal maid to do every little thing he needed? I mean, it sounded appealing to have a monkey fetch him any useless thing he requested. Watching them spread themselves thin trying to appease him. His lips pulled together in a silent smile at that thought.

“What’s this servant's credentials?” Suguru pulled his robe off the hanger and blew on it lightly, ridding it of the dust it had collected throughout the week it had been since he wore it.

“Well she’s about 24, so past any good age to get married off,” she listed off, looking down at her clipboard as she spoke, “She’s worked in several different houses as a housekeeper and nanny, but she’s been let go for differing reasons.”

Geto slid on his robe and adjusted it until it fell across his muscular body, “Fired? Was she unruly or perhaps a pain in the ass?” A humorous tone took to his voice and Manami laughed in response, handing him the clipboard so he could see for himself. In a subtle sprawl, it wrote your name. It was interesting as he perused down the paper, stopping at the section where it detailed how you were let go: “Fired for talking back” and “Inappropriate conduct” happened to be recurring on the list, making the leader quirk an eyebrow. The last time he had anyone with some sense of personality was ages ago, as I previously stated my guy doesn’t raise his voice often. “What does she look like?” He asked, handing the clipboard back to the woman.

“I dunno. Why? Finally over your ex, Sugruuuuuuu?” Manami teased, a grin appearing on her face. However, it quickly disappeared as soon as he shot her a warning glare. Never bring up that name. Even edging around the subject, do not bring it up. Every servant and every secretary knew the leader’s past was a delicate subject. Never bring it up.

She cleared her throat and continued, “Her parents are the ones using her for labor money. We can undercharge them for an old hag and get full labor! ‘Course, she’d have to live here… but I can situate that,” she waved a hand in the air to dismiss that train of thought, “I think it’ll be good for you, sir. Maybe you can get some release.”

She did it that time. Suguru’s eyes shot up to hers and gave her a look that would have sent anyone running. Manami apologized instantly, bowing her head. Everyone also knew of their Emperor’s lack of sexual lovers, and his constant sexual frustrations. He had never been able to fully relieve himself, for well over twelve years. There was a pent-up hunger burning inside him and no one could satiate it no matter how much he tried.

“Hire her. I wish to get acquainted with my new personal servant.”

Your personality had always bounced back even in the face of adversity, maybe that’s why every household you’ve ever worked for had fired you. Life wasn’t easy for someone like you, in a family who didn’t prioritize you. All they wanted were sons and they were blessed with a daughter who couldn’t even marry, you were a disgrace. So they decided they would use you for money if they could, milking you for every cent you were worth. However, you couldn’t keep a job.

You started well-behaved and quiet, but soon the snippy comments would start. Then soon, you’d be making a scene, disrespectfully calling out your bosses for their treatment in a very public manner. Then they’d fire you instantly, making your family angry once more. It was a vicious cycle they couldn’t snap you from. You were never going to change until your father had announced you had been sold.

The Star Religious group had agreed to your purchase, giving your family a sum of money they hadn’t seen in their entire lifetime. It was enough for them to skip town and leave you in your own abandoned house. Rough. Of course, that money wouldn’t hold them afloat forever, but they didn’t realize it at the time. All you could think about was the fact you had been abandoned by the people you had been blessed to, the people who said they loved you.

You were never going to change until that day.

There was no use in fighting, because what happened after this? You’d have no one to back you up or a roof to sleep under. This time… you weren’t going to fuck it up. A carriage arrived at your vacant lot a day after your parents announced you were sold, leaving you alone with your thoughts. In a side bag were two kimonos, a compact, and a hair clip. You opened your rickety front door and peered over at the carriage with wide eyes. Normally a comment would fly out of your mouth, but you couldn’t even will yourself to speak. You didn’t have the will or energy to do anything more than sit and stare like a rock before a woman came out of it.

She was beautiful, with short pink hair and a purple dress. She shouted your name and clasped her hands together in front of her stomach, “Oh he’s going to like you very well. Sir Geto has a thing for submissive women.”

You couldn’t even bring yourself to laugh in her face and contradict her statement, nodding lifelessly, “I am grateful for this opportunity, Ms.”

“Ms. Manami Suda to you!” She grinned, stepping aside to let you walk inside the carriage. It was a dull red on the outside and the same interior-wise, nothing special. You didn’t note the patterns on the inner walls or how the cushion felt. In all honesty, you didn’t care. Even though it was mid-day, you found yourself fantasizing about sleeping in a cot that wasn’t made of pure shit material, maybe even with a pillow.

The carriage ride was quiet, aside from the occasional comment from Manami about how you didn’t have the monkey smell. Oh, that’s right… they were Jujutsu Sorcerers. You or anyone in your family for that matter were not blessed with the sorcerer gene, so you truly didn’t understand what it meant. Instead of speaking you nodded politely and let a fake small smile grace your lips, as if you were actually listening to her. The countryside was beautiful, the ride taking you deep into the middle of nowhere. Then you saw it, large buildings all coupled together to create a convent. They were tan with brown bamboo roofs, slanted to a point on the top. Incredibly gorgeous. You had always fantasized about building your own buildings one day, admiring from afar. But you weren’t built for that lifestyle.

It was only ever going to be a fantasy for you it seemed.

The two of you entered the convent in silence, taking in the architecture. It was gorgeous, something you had seen from far away but never dared to venture to up close. You resisted so many urges to run your hand along the columns of the outdoor hallways that lined the outdoor courtyard in the center, where many of the children played. They all looked happy and free, something you found yourself envying.

“Lord Geto is right this way,” Manami spoke eagerly, walking ahead of you and motioning around, “Get used to it kid, you’ll be spending a lot of time here,” she then glanced back at you, a smile branding her lips, “Don’t get smart.” To her, she didn’t think that you were the same girl with the smart mouth that had been let go so many times. In some ways, you weren’t the same. You were so completely and utterly done with your life you couldn’t bring yourself to even have an ounce of personality you once did.

The rest of the walk was quiet before she turned on her heels to the right and motioned to a large door. It was red, with golden trim around the edges. You couldn’t see inside but you knew exactly what lay behind those doors. Manami took your bag from you politely and knocked a few times on the door, hearing some shuffling and seeing them open. Two guards opened the door, their faces stone-cold and stoic. They were almost scary looking, but nothing prepared you for the man who was behind them. He sat on a mound of pillows, head resting in his palm, and his eyes glued to you. In every sense of the word he was gorgeous, you had never seen anyone that beautiful. And he could say the same about you.

Suguru’s eyes widened just a tad as he took in your person. You were beautiful, looking hand-carved from a cloud by the finest god, wine drunk on nothing but your beauty alone. How could this be? No non-sorcerer should have ever made him stare for longer than a few seconds. Manami noticed, hell, everyone but you noticed. He blinked once, then twice, pulling him out of the trace you had put over him, a delicate smile gracing his lips. He spoke your name and used his free hand to beckon you over.

You did as you were told, walking into the room silently. But you hadn’t seen the rug placed before you or the corner of that small table. You found yourself hitting the side of the table with your right ankle, then tripping forward, completely slipping due to the rug. It was within seconds you were face down to the ground, letting out an astonished gasp. That was it. You had done it. You had tripped in front of the most notorious non-sorcerer-hating Sorcerer in the entire country. You had made a complete and utter fool of yourself and that was going to be the end of your life. A sad and embarrassed blush filled your cheeks and hollowed out your temples, waiting for your punishment.

“I’m… so very sorry,” you managed to mumble, lifting your head from your crouched position. You didn’t hear Suguru lean forward, changing his position to kneel in front of you, and you didn’t expect him to be leaning over you so closely. His face looked down at you with a different kind of softness, raven strands of hair falling over his ears.

“Nonsense. It happens to the best of us… sit up,” he purred, whispering a magical tune in your ear. In any other person, this caring persona would have elicited a feeling of trust and safety. But you found this to be resulting in a different kind of reaction. Suguru’s brow furrowed ever so slightly when you sat up, moving to sit on your knees in front of him, and stared at him with … fuck me eyes?? No one had ever lusted after him so obviously and that quickly too! I mean he was Suguru fucking Geto, for crying out loud- he was supposed to be scary, not sexy! Well… maybe both.

He blinked slowly to reset his thoughts, letting a gentle hand swipe past her cheek and softly hold her chin. Geto spoke your name lowly as he tilted your head to one side, taking in your features. It was nothing more than a pass over to see you fully, but you had completely soaked your underwear. Yeah, that’s right, you weren’t scared of him you were aroused. It felt even more embarrassing because it was incredibly obvious your fear-torn stare had turned into something more objectifiying.

You were just picturing him leaning in and whispering sweet nothings as his voice broke your thoughts, “Your name is very pretty.” His voice brushed against your ears and once he retracted his hand back, a small frown parted your lips. His touch was warm and soft, contrasting the devilish stare Suguru typically wore. You wanted to relish in it for a few more moments, but you couldn’t live in a fantasy, now could you?

“Thank you, sir,” you replied, looking down to your lap. You just felt your wetness create an uncomfortable pool in your underwear, making it hard not to squirm. Especially with those naturally beautiful eyes staring at you with a hidden curiosity.

Aside from the obvious lust radiating off of your person, you were a hard individual to read. Geto was getting mixed signal after mixed signal from your face he decided to sigh and ignore whatever he was feeling at that moment, opting to go over the business side of things. “You will become my personal servant, focussing on cooking, cleaning, and fulfilling my everyday needs. Understood?”

You nodded as he continued, “I would let Manami show you to your room… but it appears she’s wandered off,” he motioned to the slightly open door behind you, “I don’t mind showing you.” With that, the emperor stood up and cleared his throat, brushing his big hands against his robe. You watched with wide eyes as it flowed around him, making him appear more majestic than he actually was. You found yourself standing up and following your new boss, opting not to speak or do anything to draw more attention to yourself.

As the two of you walked, the columns lining the walls took hold of your mind. The patterns in the wallpaper were one thing in itself, but the structure of the clearly customized columns made your heart flutter. It was gorgeous. Dragon scales dipped into the wall before coming out, in the middle of every door that lined the long indoor hallway. Your feet slowed to a stop, staring at the gold dragon trim. Your hand inched toward it slowly, just one touch to see the type of material. Suguru hadn’t noticed you wandered off until he turned and in the corner of his eye, he saw you stroke the wall. At first, he wanted to do the dick thing and clear his throat, embarrassing you. But something stopped him. You were as pretty as that dragon, the gold reflecting off your skin and making you practically glow in the dim light. You were gorgeous. Stunning even. It was strange, he had never felt himself this attracted to anyone in his life. Aside from- never mind.

The leader slowly walked back, making his way behind you. You were tolerable to be around, tolerable for a monkey. That was something he had to remind himself about. You were still a non-sorcerer. You were still inferior to him in every sense of the word. Whatever feelings were creeping into his chest and making his heart sing had to get shut away in that instant, so he did the dick move and cleared his throat.

Your hand was on one of the scales and you froze, turning your head with the speed of light to meet his gaze. “Lord… Please forgive me,” you blurted out, turning on your heel and pressing both hands to your chest, “I’m very sorry. I should never have gotten distracted. I’m sorry,” you squeaked, shutting your eyes tight. You knew what was bound to come… either a physical punishment or your letter of unemployment. Before Suguru could even respond, you lifted your head and tilted it to the side, motioning to your cheek.

His eyebrow quirked up. He had never seen a servant ask for a punishment for their own wrongdoings, especially when it wasn’t that severe. A strange pang hit his chest, causing a weight to form across his own heart. What had happened in your sad life that made you so prone to letting people do things like that to you? This wasn’t the woman he was expecting. When you walked in, terrified and shy, then … horny, he thought he had gotten the wrong girl. Something must have happened for you to change like that. Maybe your obvious attraction was a hint of the personality you were hiding. Then Suguru had another question: why were you hiding your personality? The first duh answer was so you wouldn’t get fired right away, right? But he felt like there was something more.

Something he shouldn’t have cared about. You were a non-sorcerer, a monkey! It was forbidden on all accords.

Suguru blinked a few times, taking himself out of his weird spiral of thoughts to look at your face, contorted with worry, “It’s … alright. I wasn’t aware you liked architecture,” he motioned to the dragon’s golden bodice on the wall, “That was custom made from…” You let your boss explain how the dragon was made and imported, listening to every word. You didn’t want to speak and ruin your only chance at a new life. This was the one and only time you had ever held your breath, stopping any words from coming out.

After a moment, the male paused and looked over you once more. Something was turning over inside his head and he so desperately wanted an answer. What was going on inside your head and what had deflated your personality so? What had made you turn yourself into a shell of the person he knew was still in there? …And why was he longing to see this? But he said nothing. The moment had passed and as quickly as you wandered off, you were shown to your room. If Geto had let himself unravel any further he would have requested her to accept a binding vow of pure honesty, with the promise of his protection. Why? Why was she pulling at his mind and making him lose it?

That night, he set himself a bath. The water splashed and made small waves as he dipped his feet into it, before submerging his large body. There was something so very calming about a bath to clear his mind… but he couldn’t rid it of you. Of your face, of your monkey smell, or your body. Even though the kimono you were wearing was a size too big, he still made sure to look you over subtly. He took in your large curves and bit his lip, thinking about them as he sat by himself. He was completely and utterly alone, in spirit and in a literal sense. Of course, he’d get a morning erection every now and then, but it had been a long time since something had turned him on just from the thought of it.

One of Suguru’s hands dipped into the water and grabbed ahold of his meaty cock, dragging a hand up and down his length. It was foreign, but coming back to him like muscle memory. He didn’t want to savor this orgasm to the thought of a lowly monkey, he wanted to get it over with then pretend it never even happened. He wanted to pretend this was all some strange dream he was forced into… not at all something that was going to be plaguing him. He inhaled sharply and leaned his head back, resting his back against the edge of the bathtub. The water was coming up to his mid stomach, warming up his lower half. His pleasure was a gradual build, but he was trying his hardest to rush it. The leader wanted nothing more than to cum and then forget it. His hand tightened around his shaft, stroking upwards to find any sense of release. It was a few seconds before he came, rolling his hips a few times at the new sensation. It was a build of pure warmth before he felt his fluids ooze out of his tip with heavy force. It sprung into the water and contaminated it with his filthy seed.

It was enough to make him grimace. A non-sorcerer made him so hot and bothered he was forced to spill all over himself, in the bath no less! First, he felt an odd sense of attraction to you… now he wanted nothing to do with it. If it was going to keep him feeling this way, Suguru wanted nothing to do with you. Even if you were beautiful, and you smelt good, and your skin was soft. He could feel it on his fingertips, a psychosomatic warmth radiating off of his hands.

This was not going to be good for him. You were not going to be good for him.

You woke up at 9 AM sharp, not by choice. Manami shook you a few times, forced you out of your comforting dream, and made you sit up on the small cot you had gotten as your bed. It was more than you could have ever asked for, even if it was made for someone a bit smaller than you. So was your new kimono. They had a dress code for servants to differentiate them, and clearly whoever was the last servant didn’t have a very large … bust. You stared at yourself in the mirror, seeing your form ache to be freed from the tight clothing. The buttons didn’t go all the way down, exposing a bit of cleavage, and it tore a bit at the small of your back. Manami wasn’t much help either, opting to snicker at you and roll her eyes. You wanted to bite back and say something to get her riled up, but you never found your strength. Instead, you took it and nodded.

“Okay so, Sir Geto’s room is the one to your left. Go ahead and start his bath. Don’t try to wake him up, though. He’ll be all grumpy if you do,” she explained, motioning wildly with her hands. She was a very extroverted person. Someone you would’ve gotten along with if you didn’t feel like absolute dog shit at that very moment. You nodded your head politely and exited the room, opening your bosses.

It was neat, with barely any decor. Gas lanterns hung from the walls dimly, always keeping the room somewhat illuminated. You tried your hardest not to look at his sleeping form, but you caved. He was so gorgeous it made you pussy throb just from looking at him. His face was resting peacefully against his pillow, some black hairs sprawled against his forehead. His hair was long, longer than you expected, flowing behind him on his bed. And he was wearing what appeared to be a sheer robe. You swallowed and made your way into his bathroom, almost slipping on the excess water left behind from his previous night's bath. You were innocent enough not to question the pile of tissues on the counter, pushing them into the small garbage pail. Then it was a matter of setting up his bath.

In a cabinet hidden by a curve in the wall, you noticed some aromatic bath salts and other essential oils. One of the households you worked for was very into the essential thing, so you had an idea of what scents went together. You didn’t want Geto to smell like a whole mixture of things, but rather one family of scents. You chose a vial of rosemary, lavender, and peppermint oil, hoping it would go together. The bath turned on with a single turn of the knob. Your hands rested on the base of the tub, feeling the water to make sure it wasn’t too hot. It got to the perfect temperature and you put the stopper on the drain, letting it fill up. In the meantime, you sat on the edge of the bathtub and peered around the bathroom. It was again, tidy and austere. He didn’t have an eye for decorating or he didn’t enjoy it.

You heard a faint groan in the bedroom, signaling Suguru was waking. You inhaled the smell of rosemary and turned on your side to watch as it spilled one drop at a time from the vial. Then fell the peppermint, followed by the lavender. The scent filled the bathroom in an aromatic fashion, filling your senses with a sudden calm. Was it some kind of drug concoction? It was a smell that made you lean back and sigh, filling you with a sense of safety in your surroundings.

“Good morning,” Suguru spoke, a raspy edge to his voice. Your eyes shot open from their closed state and you stood up, clasping your hands on your chest to hide your cleavage. But you hadn’t seen him staring at you from the bathroom door. He leaned against the doorframe, in only his thin nighttime robe, and stared at your thick breasts. The fabric was so tight, it pulled gaps between each button. He had to admit it, it was hot. Even if you were a filthy monkey, you were a hot filthy monkey. A hot filthy monkey with a banging body.

“Lord Geto, I was preparing your bath,” you stepped to the side and motioned to the filling water. He caught a glimpse of your back as you turned to turn the knob to the water down to a stop. He saw the tear and the bit of your lacey underwear peeking out from underneath it. Was he that much of a monster that the first time a beautiful non-sorcerer appeared, he’d cave and melt?

It was starting to feel that way as something came out of his mouth, “How do you feel about me? …Honestly.”

You opened your mouth to respond, on autopilot, before you closed it as quickly as you opened it. What could you say? You found him attractive and you wanted him to breed you? You couldn’t exactly say that, so instead you opted for something more generic, “I think you’re a very respectable leader and emperor to your coven.”

Bull. Shit. Suguru knew it was a lie and he knew you knew it as well. He didn’t have a reputation for being respectable in any sense of the word. He was a cold-blooded killer who’d murder anyone who wronged him in any way. A cold-blooded killer who was beginning to have a strange soft spot for you…

“Tell me this,” he took a step forward, “if you vow to never lie to me again … I vow to protect you from getting fired, no matter what.” Was he seriously going to bindingly vow himself to some non-sorcerer? Was he seriously going to do this because he wanted to know how he was perceived?

“...Really?” You asked, your mouth opening slightly. All he wanted was honesty?? You could do that! You could do that so well!!

“Really,” Geto took another step forward and began to undo the tie holding together his robe. You had made it a point to stare at his face, but you were aching to quickly glance down below his belt. Just for a second.

“Okay. I swear…” You looked away and bit your bottom lip for a moment. You’d have to be honest now. You looked back at the man and let a smile appear on your face, “I think you’re more hot than you are scary.”

Suguru’s eyes widened. That’s not at all the kind of tonal shift he had expected from you. He expected you to admit some kind of vague attraction and perhaps that he was a terrifyingly charismatic leader. But… he got a response which made an embarrassed blush fill his temples.

“I’m .. hot?” He raised an eyebrow, pulling off the robe and letting it fall to the floor. Your eyes didn’t shy away now, making direct eye contact with his flaccid cock. It was beautiful even in that state, making your mouth hang open just a bit more. It was huge too. Thoughts of his girth stretching out your tiny pussy flooded into your thoughts. He could fuck you so good with that thing. And his voice… it was perfect.

“A lot of you is hot,” you looked back at his face, which was an excruciatingly bright shade of red. No one had ever felt this comfortable to objectify Suguru this way to his face. He couldn’t deny the fact he was growing to enjoy it. And grow in other ways. He took a few more steps forward, hands reaching out and pulling you closer to his front.

“You’re being filthy, not honest,” a small smirk graced his lips as he stared down at you with half-lidded eyes, beaming with lust.

“I can do both,” you returned a smile. A weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had complete and utter job security. That’s all you could have ever wanted in your entire life, just a place to stay. Even if it meant working with this hot guy for the rest of your life, you didn’t mind. Although, he thought of you as inferior, you didn’t care. That’s what did it. Your personality had been led out of its cage and shown to Suguru’s perverted gaze. He realized what kind of person you were from your few sentences. You were just as much of a pervert as he was. The tonal shift was enough to make you realize what his next plans were, especially when he let his big hands snake around your waist.

“This is,” Suguru let out a breath and craned his head down, brushing his lips past your ear, “Very wrong… But I can’t help but imagine what it would be like to kiss you, pretty girl,” he cooed, using his free hand to tilt your chin up to face him as he pulled his face back. You both looked at each other’s features for a moment without anything. What was there to say? You could feel him throbbing between your legs with that massive log he had attached to his front. It was hot. You just wanted to trail your hand down his chest and watch him shiver when you got to his v-line.

“You can’t fire me… so I don’t care,” two hands found themselves placed on his bare chest, running up and down his pectorals, “Am I too lowly for you, sir?” You purred, looking back up at him with a lustful expression. It was all you had to say before he proved you wrong. Devastatingly slow, he brought your lips together. The hand on your chin disappeared, moving to rest upon your ass. You sighed into the kiss, molding your lips together in perfect synchronization. It was as if his mouth was made for you, pulling you into sensations you had never felt before. The kiss didn’t last long before he pulled back and looked down at you with an unmistakable expression. He was going to fuck the living shit out of you. It was written on his face from the way he was clearly thinking about how to go about it. There was a bathtub full of aromatic water, waiting to be used… You looked down at the tub and looked back at him. You two didn’t have to say anything as his hands grabbed at the hole from the back of your kimono and ripped it. It made a loud tearing sound and he continued to pull, until little to no fabric hung from your breasts.

You gasped and looked down at the mess he had made, moving to undo your underwear, then you looked at his cock. It was just aching to be touched in some way. Your hand found his tip and started to stroke down his shaft, then up. Who knew a non-sorcerer's hands would feel phenomenal compared to his own? Suguru let out a faint groan, leaning into your touch. He had never let himself take pleasure in things, ever since his breakup [at KFC] twenty years ago… but now it felt different. He felt like he had one chance to do this and he wasn’t going to spoil it. Your hands were so warm, he could just imagine how warm your mouth would be, gagging on his length.

Large hands cupped your ass and lifted your body, causing you to exclaim loudly and wrap your arms around his neck for stability. He was so strong, you could hardly believe it. It was pure talent and genetics that made him perfect on every level. His face was godly and his body was sculpted from the heavens just for your perverted stare. The male set you down gently in the tub, being mindful to make sure you didn’t land too hard on your plush backside. He wanted to save the bruising on your skin for when it was from him. He wanted his hands to be the ones leaving imprint after imprint on your skin, slapping and grabbing without a care for what would be left behind. He plopped down into the water, not caring if he got water to spill from the sides. He didn’t care about anything, because his hands and eyes were glued to you. His hands hooked around your hips and pulled you onto his lap, still being mindful not to hurt you.

You grinned and leaned forward, pushing strands of ebony-colored hair across his forehead and away from his beautiful eyes. Purple, they stared back at you gently. “This… is nice,” you spoke softly, pressing your lips first on his forehead, then his nose, before landing on his lips. It was chaste, as the first kiss had been. But it didn’t stay that way for long. Suguru’s tongue slipped its way into your mouth and took over with a dominating force, making you bite back a whimper. It felt so good. He knew exactly how to move it to elicit whatever reaction he pleased. Your hands raked through his hair, before grabbing fistfuls at the root and moaning into his mouth. He liked that, moaning with you.

“...Harder,” he mumbled against your open mouth, kissing back for more.

“What a pretty little masochist,” you smiled, running your hands through the roots of his hair before clenching them down and yanking up another fistful, hearing him whine in his low gravelly voice. Fuck… it just made you so wet. You clenched your thighs together as you kissed up his face, pulling his hair just to hear the ardor-esc moans fill the room. This was even better than sex, just hearing him get a little bit of pleasure out of this hair-pulling would’ve been satisfactory. But as you did this, you felt his hands fondle your ass, squeezing and palming your skin. It wasn’t long before he lifted you and had you position his throbbing dick against your folds.

You had never felt a dick this good penetrate you in your life. Something about the way it curved to the left and the bulbous head, touched areas you didn’t even know you had, just on the way down. You threw your head back in a breathy whine, rocking your hips back and forth once you felt yourself hit the base of his cock. Suguru used his two hands to help you slide up his length, then down again. He had you trapped in a rhythm of fucking your tight cunt with his member, making you his fuck toy. The male had never felt himself slip into such a trace over a monkey of all people. Non-sorcerers should have not had this hold on him, but you were different. You gasped and bit down on your hand to stop a loud groan escaping your mouth, with your breasts bouncing with each thrust.

“Dirty slut,” Suguru uttered, biting on his bottom lip to stop his own noises from getting too loud. No one could figure out this was happening. It was wrong. It was against everything he had ever stood for. But …god it felt so good. Your walls clenched around him every time he forced you down on his length, taking the time to feel up your hips and ass. You were so soft, inside and out. The perfect toy he could use.

It didn’t take him long to feel close, a familiar pang of desire creeping up the shaft of his cock. You were beyond ready to cum, with this log inside you it wouldn’t take long. You bit down on your fingertips and cried out, not having time to muffle your wails of pleasure. It was a warmth you hadn’t felt in such a long time wash over your whole vagina, flushing out through your body next. You convulsed, grinding your hips back and forth to continue to elongate your high for as much as possible, causing a second orgasm on your way down. No one had ever made you cum like that, making you dumbfounded by the sheer will of their dick.

The cult leader felt himself throbbing for release, but as much as he wanted to, he couldn’t do it inside you. There couldn’t be any evidence of your joint mistake running around in nine months, not here. Instead, he pulled you off his cock and pressed his lips together, “Press your…” He motioned to your breasts then his cock, “So I can…” You nodded and pressed your tits together, pushing them up against the length of his dick. That was all he needed, using his left hand to finish the job. He focused his energy on the swollen tip, leaking precum and begging to release all over your mounds of perfect flesh. Mounds he wanted so desperately to put in his mouth and suck.

Then he came, splattering out of his cock and messily coating your tits. Most of the cum was on your skin, although half of it also found its way into the water. You bit your lip as he came and thrust into the air, into nothing. It was like volt after volt of pure pleasure was shot through his urethra and forced out in one big release, a release he didn’t know he was even capable of. Your cunt had felt so good it made Suguru’s dick completely sensitive to any kind of touches, including his own. So when he came, he let out a loud whine, in his devilishly low voice, “F-fuck… mmm shit.. This was.. Hah.. a mis-mistake,” he breathed out, trying to regulate himself after he had just felt an explosive orgasm run through his penis.

You nodded and looked down at your breasts, coated in his cum. How were you going to explain to Manami that all of your clothes mysteriously wound up torn in Lord Geto’s bathroom? And how were you going to explain the fact you were also covered in Lord Geto’s cum?

“...Can I call you Suguru now?” You asked after a moment, tilting your head to the man who looked as though he had just run a marathon.

There was something utterly interesting about your personality now that you had freed it from your nervous shackles. Suguru didn’t want to extinguish this new fire in your eyes, he wanted to foster it and let it burn. There was no way he was developing some kind of feelings for you other than lust… there was no way. But there were going to be dramatic changes now. After that day, you were treated as one of the regular Sorcerers, which infuriated Manami to no end. You were the most prized possession of Suguru Geto and everyone knew not to anger or upset you because he would get wind of it. Then… there’d be trouble. You were his prized possession. The possession he wanted to see smile and laugh in the sunlight, rather than stay inside and do mindless chores. The possession he wanted to have slept next to him in his bed at night and wrapped his large arms around.

The possession he was growing to… love.

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spacecowboyhotch · 4 months

Text

In Plain Sight, Ch 1: Docile Pyre

summary: nathan tries his best to wade through the sea of feelings you’ve brought up in him. he’s kinda shitty to you while doing it.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: this entire series is 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, nathan is a pining asshole, reader is so competent and cool

wc: 2,200

AN: BE NICE TO ME PLEASE GOD. i don’t know where this came from. on christmas eve morning, nathan bateman himself walked into my apartment and made me write this. who am i to argue with a man who looks like oscar issac?

in plain sight masterlist | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan learned quickly that his usual backhanded compliments and intelligent snarkiness don’t work for you. You don’t care enough to let him get under your skin, don’t care enough to be baited into an argument. It gets under his skin.

You make him sick. Sick in a way he’d never felt before. He thought he was the epitome of unbothered and unchanged until he met you. He feels like a fucking teenage boy, wiping his sweaty palms and reminding himself that he’s in control. He’s the boss. So why does his heart flutter when you look him in the eyes so intently as he gives you task after task to do?

You never complain. You never say much at all. He wishes that you would say something. That you would lash out or fight back— give him something. He wants to see you.

But you’re prim and perfect. All “yes sir” and “no sir”. Mr. Bateman this and Mr. Bateman that. No one calls him Mr. Bateman. It’s fucking silly, the way it affects him when you do. You handle each task he gives you with ease— even when he has you calling the most difficult of his colleagues. In meetings, they mention how charming you are, sweet and charismatic. Nathan doesn’t even get that. For someone who’s all about AI, blank stares, and obedient droids, your likeness to them is driving him crazy. He knows that you’re a person with emotions, desires, and opinions. So he picks and picks and picks, hoping that one day you’ll break.

Why won’t you show him? Why does he care so much? Why is he completely enamored with you anyway?

Being around you starts to confuse him. Nathan hates that feeling. He likes to be the smartest in the room— he needs it or he starts to feel small. Like he’s that little boy he was all those years ago, staring up into the angry eyes of his parents as they spew insults at him. But, he can’t seem to find a balance when he’s around you, he hates the feelings you invoke but can’t seem to work himself out of the tangled mess in his heart. Before you, he was sure that he didn’t have one anymore.

“Can you work overtime tonight? I need all of this sorted and filed,” He gestures to stack upon stack of paperwork in the corner of his lab.

“I just need to make a call, sir.”

Nathan knows that you have a life outside of him and this job— any normal person would. But, he’s not normal, is he? It reminds him that despite these harbored feelings, he’s not compatible with you. You deserve someone normal. Maybe that’s who you need to call, maybe you already have someone. Jealousy courses through his veins.

He raises a brow at you, his voice cool, “A call? You have something more important to do than your job?”

You give him no information. Just a polite smile as you head towards the door, “I’ll just be a moment, sir.”

Nathan pretends to tinker around with his synthetic brains and limbs and skin until you’re finished filing. He thought it’d take longer, but you finish in a couple of hours. He’s always impressed with you and your performance but it goes sour the moment you reach for your bag.

“If that’s all Mr. Bateman, I’ll see you at 9 a.m.”

“Wait,” He says, trying to prolong your time together, trying to see if you’ll give him any sort of reaction if he gives you more work. But no. You turn to him with ease, a polite and expectant look on your face. He gives up. “I’ll send you a grocery list. You can be here at 10 a.m.”

“10 a.m.,” You repeat with a soft nod.

Then Nathan’s all alone again. He heads into his bedroom, opening one of the closets. He needs to get lost for a while. He needs you off his mind.

—

Nathan tries. He really tries not to watch you so closely. He tries to distance himself from you. He stops giving you the tasks he used to give you just to hopefully piss you off. His attempts are useless though. The only thing that could keep him from watching you is firing you. He doesn’t have control, he feels powerless in the face of your docile stare.

He starts to notice things. That your hair is a little out of place. That your clothes aren’t as crisp and clean as usual. He sees the bags under your eyes. He sees you sleeping during your lunch break instead of eating. Your work doesn’t suffer and neither does your attitude but the subtle light in your eyes gets dimmer and dimmer as time wanes on.

Nathan had wanted to see you, sure, but he didn’t want to see you like this. Something’s wrong. He’s not sure has the courage to ask you about it. He feels guilty when he has to ask you to work late on a Thursday afternoon. It feels like it’s festering inside him and he almost forgoes asking. It gets what he’s wanted for months and months on end. You finally crack.

“Hey, I need you to work late tonight,” He murmurs, more gently than he’s spoken to anyone…ever. Fuck, you make him soft. It’s disgusting. It’s unfair. It’s blasphemy.

You continue to type when you respond, “I can’t, sir.”

Nathan freezes, unsure if he’s just heard you correctly. “Excuse me?”

You inhale a soft breath, your gaze airing on slightly apologetic, “I said that I can’t. I can’t work late tonight, Mr. Bateman, I’m sorry.”

“And why not?”

“I’m not sure that that’s any of your business. Sir,” You add respectfully.

“Any of my business?” He repeats, incredulous.

“Yes, sir.”

He stares at you for a handful of seconds, weighing his options. The tasks he wants to give you could wait until more— he’s simply impatient. But, he’s got buy-in now with your disagreement and secrecy. He could push…and he does. “I didn’t ask, I ordered. I need you here for a few more hours.”

It works. For the first time since you started working for him a little under a year ago, you finally show him something. You’re angry, he can tell by the way your brows knit together and your mouth twists. It thrills him.

You stew for a few beats, no doubt deciding if you should voice your rebuttal or go on as usual. Nathan watches you eagerly, hoping of course for the latter. It doesn’t come. Instead—

You close your eyes, growing statuesque. Nathan can only tell you’re still breathing because of how close he is, and how intensely he’s watching you. You open your eyes after a moment and say easily, “Then I need to make a call. It’ll just be a moment, sir.

You work diligently that night, finishing up in just half the time he suggested. He’s almost tempted to give you more, but he knows that would just make things worse. Despite your cool collected manner, the air in the room feels heavier, the energy shifted. He knows he’s fucked up. And if he wasn’t sure, he is when you get up to leave without your usual goodbye or so much of a glance at him.

It’s only after you’ve gone that Nathan takes a good look at his calendar. It’s New Year's Eve. He’d made you stay late on New Year's Eve. That guilt from before rears its ugly head, more gut-wrenching than before. He makes his way to the kitchen to drink it away. It’s replaced with alcohol, hot jealousy, and a hint of sadness. You’d had plans for New Year's Eve. You weren’t going to be lonely like him, if you still made it to those.

Fuck and who were they with? Some guy? Some woman? Did it matter? Not really. The only thing that mattered is that you opened up to them. You show them who you are. Nathan sits hunched over on the couch, bottle in hand staring into the fire.

No, I’m not sorry, he thinks drunkenly to himself. If keeping you late kept you with him and away from whoever was in your life then he wasn’t sorry. He was selfish and unkind, but not sorry. Assholes like him don’t get to be sorry. He’d be a monster that would keep you as long as he could in any way that he could.

—

When you come in on the second, you look exhausted despite the day off. It almost sets him off, but he’d spent most of yesterday thinking about you. The drinking had taken away his guilt, his jealousy, or that unworthy feeling he’s been running from all his life. You…well you make him want to face. Dig to the root of it and cast it out of himself, but he knows he’s not strong enough. The most he can do right is an apology.

Nathan comes to sit on the edge of your desk, blocking the screen so you have to look up at him. “Hey.”

You look up at him with those soft, tired eyes. “Yes?”

He shifts, scratching the bare patch atop his head awkwardly, “I uh— the other night, it was shitty of me to make you work late on New Year’s Eve.”

“I made it work, sir.”

Fuck him, you’re making this hard. His silly little anger about your disposition isn’t justified, he realized that when he sobered up yesterday but he feels ready to explode with it. Spending New Year’s Day alone had never bothered him until yesterday. He had never himself alone, given his bots, until you. You’re screwing with his head, making it all fucky.

“Mr. Bateman?”

A small shiver runs down his spine. He nods, clapping his hands together before hopping off your desk. He needs space and air. “It won’t happen again. On any holiday.”

You fix him with a polite smile, nodding, “Sure.”

Nathan avoids you as much as he can for the rest of the day. Maybe that’s his only option now. He knows that there’s no point in fighting this. Once he feels a certain way it might as well be set in stone. It’s hard to accept that. Even if it wasn’t, he doesn’t want to.

He runs into you on his way out, and before he can think better of it, he’s talking, “Hey, wait up one second.”

“I can stay late, it’s not a problem,” You say mechanically.

“No, I’m not— fuck I’m not asking you to stay late again. I’m an asshole but Jesus fucking Christ.”

“Did I make a mistake then, sir?”

He can’t help himself— he laughs. It dissolves into a maniacal giggle, his hands rubbing at his eyes. “Fuck’s sake. No, sweetheart, you didn’t make a mistake. What I meant to say earlier was I shouldn’t have made you work late on New Year’s Eve. I shouldn’t make you work so late any day, I don’t know your life, I don’t know you.”

“Alright.”

“And what I mean by that is— you know that this is me saying sorry? Right?”

“Yes, Mr. Bateman, I understand what you’re saying completely.”

“Great. Well?”

You tilt your head at him— it’s almost unsettling. “Well?”

“Usually someone apologizes, says it won’t happen again, and then the other thanks them. Accepts the apology. All that jazz. That’s how it works in the movies at least if I’m not mistaken,” He grins, leaning up against the wall with his arms crossed.

“Yes, sir, I know how apologies work.”

He nods his head at you expectantly, “Then it’s your turn.”

You do that thing again from the other night, where you go so still you could be made from stone. He watches you with curious eyes, and when your gaze meets his, he can see it— the fire. He’s cracked you again. This time he hopes for a better result.

Shoulders squared, clutching your bag tightly over your shoulder you say, “With all due respect and complete honesty, Mr. Bateman, I don’t accept. I don’t care to. While I appreciate your attempt, none of what you said was a true apology. That almost means that well, there was nothing for me to accept. I’ll see you at 7 a.m., sir.”

Nathan watches you leave, his mouth slightly agape. You had just, so politely and succinctly told him off. He feels like his world has been turned upside down like he’s been bitten by a snake he was told wasn’t poisonous. And he wants to be bitten again. Again and again, he wants to stoke that fire in you until it’s an uncontrollable rage. A forest fire with no end in sight. He wants to be engulfed in it, willing and ready to suffer the burns of handling you. Where he’d been prepared to give up on you after apologizing— okay with sacrificing you to someone who might actually have a chance at deserving you— he refuses to now.

This feels like a challenge. You want him to be better? He’ll do it. He’d do anything for you. And he will.

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @faretheeoscar, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue, @nova-ivy541, @kotaropuppy

#im impatient and posting this todayyyyy #nathan bateman x reader #nathan bateman x f!reader #nathan bateman x fem!reader #nathan bateman fanfiction #ex machina fanfiction #nathan bateman #ex machina #in plain sight #not sfw #arson writes

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icequeenbae · 3 months

Text

Boy Next Door (m) Ch.1 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings [whole story]: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 4.5k (pt.1)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: This has taken me so, SO long to write and edit that I cannot believe the time has come to post it lmao I just wanted to write something simple with the classic boy-next-door vibe but as usual, the story ended up being much longer than planned and I am going to post it as a mini-series. Please keep in mind that your feedback is what motivates me to write and post more <3 And biiig thanks to the lovely @beomcoups for taking on the beta duties on this whole story~

Network Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

PART 1

In the lobby or on your floor – those were the two locations where you’d been bumping into Baekhyun most often. Which wasn’t that strange, considering that you were neighbors. But it somehow always caught you off guard and left you flustered.

Just like the first time.

It happened almost a year ago when you were waiting for the elevator on the first floor of your building with your best friend Yuki, who came early to help you with preparations. A guy in a loose white dress shirt and jeans stepped into the elevator with you, politely greeting you before pressing his floor number.

‘Oh, you live on the 13th as well? So, you and our Y/N are neighbors!’ Yuki exclaimed.

‘Nice to meet you,’ you muttered and bowed, shy from the sudden introduction. He reciprocated, chocolate hair falling into his eyes charmingly.

‘You should come to her housewarming party! It’s in a couple hours,’ Yuki chimed in again. ‘You don’t need to bring anything, it’s just a small thing with a couple friends and neighbors. We’re making sure Y/N-ie settles in nicely here. So please come, we have tons of food!’

If anyone could ever say no to your friend… Well, you had never met such a person. You guessed that Baekhyun was simply too stunned by her enthusiasm, so he said he’d swing by for sure. In a way, you were thankful that she’d asked him – you’d have never had the guts to invite someone like that; especially not anyone as good-looking and cool as Baekhyun.

You regretted letting your bestie invite him the following evening when your party was in full swing for several hours. Most of the food was devoured, so now you were all drinking, crunching on snacks, and conversing; or trying to while jumping from one topic to another.

‘I wish we could gather more often. We all like to hang out with you, you know?’

As always, Yuki nagged at you for being too ‘stay-at-home’ of a friend.

‘I like to hang out too. But home is home. You know parties aren’t really my… favorite pastime.’

‘What is your favorite pastime, lying in bed cuddling your blanket?’ Chanyeol joked insensitively.

He should’ve known better since you were the most troubled in your group of friends regarding relationships. It was super tough for you to find a match, even when you made an effort to get out of the house and meet new people, mostly because of your history of failed relationships where your partners gained interest in someone else. It seemed like you were too plain to hold someone’s attention for long. So, you’d been ‘that single friend’ for several lonely years now. And at this time, you were actually in the very beginning of a new, promising relationship. You were still pretty insecure about it; thus, Yeol’s comment really did make you flinch. He was drunk, so that was understandable, but you still sulked at his words, mainly because they were true.

‘Hey, it doesn’t have to be a blanket.’ You frowned, pressing the straw to your lips in frustration.

‘I’m kinda sad that guy you’ve been talking to couldn’t come,’ Yuki interjected. ‘I wanted to find out what he’s like.’

‘Minho had work-related travel, so he’s resting up.’ You shrugged, sipping your drink timidly.

‘I’m sure the guy made this excuse just to avoid meeting your friends. How long have you known him for, like, two days?’ Chanyeol interjected.

‘It’s been a few weeks, actually,’ you corrected, and Hoseok, Yuki’s boyfriend, muttered a reproaching ‘hyung’ in his direction.

‘Gosh, you’re really this stupid while drunk,’ Yuki shook her head disapprovingly at your friend, who simply shrugged.

Baekhyun was pretty silent during the latest exchange, so when you briefly made eye contact, it reminded you that he could also hear all of that chatter. Which made you want to choke on your drink from humiliation. Thankfully, one of your friends still had some tact left that night, so they quickly changed the direction of the conversation. Still… you’d been mortified for weeks after the event, doing your best to avoid bumping into Baekhyun when leaving for work.

***

The next time you met, Baekhyun was also in the lobby of your apartment building. And once again, before a gathering at your place. Just days prior you had lost it and left your resignation letter at your boss's desk. Working such long hours under the constant pressure of absolutely unrealistic deadlines was taking its toll on you for sure. But when you found out they promoted a person, who was obviously less experienced and capable than you in working (but more capable in flirting with your manager), instead of you… It became the last straw.

Baekhyun appeared right on time as you struggled to push the elevator button with a whole case of beer in your hands.

‘Y/N,’ you heard his velvety voice call. ‘Nice to see you.’

‘Oh- Hi, Baekhyun.’ You greeted awkwardly, puffing from the weight you had to balance.

‘Let me help you with that?’ His suggestion sounded like a question, yet he instantly scooped the case from your hands.

‘You don’t need- thank you,’ you said, and he shook his head to indicate that it wasn’t a big deal.

‘So… having a party again?’ He asked as the elevator doors closed.

‘I wouldn’t call it a party,’ you hummed, looking at your feet. ‘I kinda had to quit my horrible job of 4 years, so my friends are making me celebrate it. Not that becoming unemployed calls for a celebration…’

You trailed off, not wanting to be a nuisance to your neighbor. He was just making small talk.

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Are you taking a break now or looking for something else?’

‘I’ll start looking next week. It’s Friday, my friends are coming… So I’ll try to just clear my mind and rest for one full weekend before I start stressing about a new job. Hopefully, my friends wouldn’t talk my ear off about it – that’s what the beer’s for. My little trick,’ you chuckled sheepishly.

‘Aren’t your friends supposed to treat you in this situation?’ Baekhyun huffed, shaking his head to rearrange his hair and better see you.

‘They should… bring more alcohol with them, I think. I couldn’t have them over for nothing, though.’

The doors opened after a robotic voice announced your floor.

‘Well, anyhow. Thanks a lot for your help!’ You tried taking the beer from Baekhyun, but he didn’t let you.

‘Open the door first; you can’t do it while holding this.’

‘Right. Thanks,’ you fussed, pressing your password in.

Baekhyun quickly placed the case on the floor of your hallway.

‘You should come!’ You blurted out, instantly getting flustered. ‘If you want.’

‘I might drop by if I’m free,’ he smiled softly. ‘My family wanted to have a video call later. That may take long.’

‘Of course. Have fun!’ You nodded, beating yourself up in your mind for being so weird suddenly.

‘You have fun,’ he chuckled, stepping towards his apartment. ‘Oh, and Y/N?’

Looking up at him as he called your name, you were met with his warm yet serious eyes.

‘If you need anything… You know where to find me.’

That made you strangely sentimental.

‘T-thank you.’

He sent you a message later on and let you know he couldn’t make it to your party. But in a way, he was there – on your mind.

***

It was about three weeks after you’d broken things off with Minho. If you could even consider it one, the relationship wasn’t long, only a couple months. At first, you thought it could be something, realizing later that it was only wishful thinking. There was no way the two of you could make it work; you were just not compatible with each other. The more you got to know him, the more you were reassured of that. Your life goals were different, your outlook on relationships was different… even your ideas of quality time with a significant other didn’t match. This time, the initial infatuation wore off rather quickly – probably because you didn’t go out of your way to appease him. You knew it was probably for the better. Pretty much all of your relationships ended the same way, with your boyfriends telling you they found someone else. Someone… more exciting.

This was the case for your first relationship halfway in your first year of university.

‘I’m sorry, Y/N. I just don’t feel the spark, you know? You’re so… domestic,’ your then-boyfriend said in his breakup speech. ‘I’m young, I want to experience stuff, be bold, and have fun. And there are people that I can do this with, who’ll also enjoy it.’

It repeated less than two years later when you’d barely worked up the courage to try and start something with another person. When it happened the third time, you decided you weren’t really made for relationships. It was ironic since you always wanted to be in one. You were very affectionate and were keen on taking care of people. Yes, you weren’t that into big gatherings and parties, and maybe it was a little too difficult to drag you anywhere when you were stressing about the upcoming tests and stuff… But you weren’t completely closed off! Even with those limitations, you were very sociable and had many friends. Was it so bad that you didn’t say yes to every suggestion? Did your inclination to stay at home and have cozy dates instead of outdoorsy stuff make you a non-relationship material? It seemed like every time someone else appeared, your boyfriends easily decided to move on.

And even though you weren’t in love with Minho, this breakup still made you sour. What made this particular day suck was that you’d found out that he was already in a new relationship; happily broadcasting it everywhere.

You weren’t jealous of him for being with someone else. You envied him for being able to find another partner in mere days after you parted ways, while for you, it felt like you’d never find or be able to retain anyone. Ever. Never ever.

‘Earth to Y/N!’ You jumped from someone’s voice ringing in your ears.

Looking up, you saw that the elevator doors were held open by your dashing neighbor, who was staring directly at you.

‘Sorry, I spaced out,’ you quickly entered. ‘Hi.’

‘Hey,’ Baekhyun smiled, pressing the button for your floor. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Um, yeah. No. I mean-’ You sighed. ‘I’m just a bit out of sorts.’

‘Trouble at work?’

‘No, my new job is great. A huge improvement on the previous one. It’s just… everything else is not nearly as great?’

Yeah, because you pushed yourself to get back on the market to finally not be alone, and here you were. Back to square one.The sniffling you produced startled even your own self.

‘Oh god, I’m sorry.’

‘It’s okay. There’s nothing to be sorry about,’ he replied, his voice gentle. ‘Do you want to talk?’

‘Oh no, I wouldn’t dream about boring you with my stupid problems.’

‘I’m sure they aren’t stupid,’ he said. ‘And I have ice cream. Almost any flavor you could think of.’

You looked at him silently, and he smiled again reassuringly.

‘It’s not mandatory for you to tell me anything. But I can treat my favorite neighbor with some ice cream, can I not?’

‘Am I your favorite just because you don’t know anyone else?’ You snickered gawkily.

‘No. Not just-’

He was interrupted by the usual announcement of your floor.

‘So, what do you think? You can change first and then come, no hurry. I’m free tonight.’

You puckered your lips, genuinely intrigued by his offer. Ice cream sounded perfect right about now. Although agreeing just because of the promised treats was pretty childish, you couldn’t help but be seduced by his suggestion. So, you gave him a shy nod.

‘Okay. Throw on something comfy and come over.’

You entered your respective apartments, and only after the door behind you locked… you realized that your heart was racing.

‘Damn you, Y/N, why did you agree to do this??’ You whined, catching a glimpse of your scrunched-up face in the mirror.

Fishing your phone out of your handbag quickly, you messaged Yuki.

You | I fucked up, Yu!!

You | Idk what to do now…. ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | What happened?? Did you like a pic on Minho’s new gf’s SNS??

Ki-yaah | I’m so dumb for telling you about this… I’m so sorry Y/N ㅠㅠ

You | No, not that

You | Who cares about Minho and his girlfriend??

You | I mean, I was a bit salty about this… But I met Baekhyun again!

Ki-yaah | Baekhyun? Your cute as fuck neighbor Baekhyun??

You | No

You | Yes?

You | My neighbor Baekhyun. I blurted out that I wasn’t in the greatest mood, and he invited me to his place for ice cream!

Ki-yaah | WHAT

Ki-yaah | YAH

Ki-yaah | THAT SLEEK BASTARD

Ki-yaah | I hope you’re texting me from his couch

Ki-yaah | Or kitchen counter

Ki-yaah | Or wherever you kids decide to do it

A bunch of obscene emojis appeared on your screen, making you blush on the spot.

You | Do it?? We’re not doing anything. I’m home!

Ki-yaah | So, you’ve already done it?? HOW WAS IT??

Ki-yaah | Waaah, you’re quick these days, Y/N-ah! Finally, you’re learning your lessons

Ki-yaah | I hope you wrapped it up though

Ki-yaah | I wouldn’t blame you if you skipped it, though, I can imagine how starved you are on good sex.. Still, safety first!

Ki-yaah | Wait, so was he?? Any good??

Ki-yaah | You’re silent!

She typed so fast that you didn’t even have a second to write back, mostly from shock – your friend wasn’t always this shameless, actually.

Then she started calling.

‘Yah, why aren’t you spilling the beans?? Too worn out to type, bestie?’ She smirked on the phone, making you cringe.

‘Because there’s nothing to spill! I haven’t even gone over yet.’

There was a second of silence.

‘… What?!’

‘I have to change; I just came from work, you know? My makeup needs fixing too…’

Your phone instantly started vibrating as a video call request came in, which you begrudgingly accepted.

‘Damn, you can’t go like this. It’s not seductive at all!’ She exclaimed.

‘I’m not going over to seduce anyone! And he told me to wear something comfy…’

‘What?? Hm, actually…’ She tapped her index finger on her chin, deep in thought. ‘He does look like the type to be into that.’

‘I-into what?’

‘Cute girls! I told you already, he was probably crushing on you since the time he came to your housewarming party!’

‘Pfft, that’s ridiculous. And don’t bring up him allegedly glaring at Yeol for his stupid comments again, I beg of you!’

‘Alright. But he’s always so nice to you! Oh-Em-Gee, you’d look so cute together,’ she squealed.

‘I don’t have time for this. I can’t have him waiting for much longer, and I need to shower…’

‘Yes! And remove your makeup while you’re at it.’

‘Huh?? If I redo my makeup… isn’t it gonna look strange? Like I’m trying too hard?’

‘You won’t have to redo it. You’ll have only very basic nude makeup on. Looking all natural and cute.’

‘I swear, if you say ‘cute’ one more time-’

‘Can’t a girl dream?? I can already imagine how cute your children would be…’ Your friend kept musing.

‘I’m hanging up.’

‘Yah, take this seriously. Clean up nicely, and let your hair down. Also, shave your-’

‘Yuki!!’

‘You never know!! One second, he’s licking ice cream off his spoon; the other, he’s l-’

Quickly tapping on your phone screen, you canceled this embarrassing call. The vivid images didn’t leave your mind as fast, though, so you shivered, shaking your head to get rid of the obscenities.

‘She’s a bad influence, for sure,’ you muttered, still ashamed of yourself for imagining your neighbor in such a context.

The time was ticking, so you decided that Yuki was somewhat right and needed to clean up. You also needed to hurry the heck up; you didn’t want to make Baekhyun wait too long. Thirty minutes later, you were in front of his door.

‘Come in, come in,’ he ushered you inside, having you change your footwear for the pink house slippers.

Why did he have those again?

‘Cute, right? I ordered them for my niece and got the size completely wrong, but they fit you perfectly. I guess I wasn’t wrong after all.’

He looked at your feet for another second before blinking and clearing his throat.

‘Let’s not waste any more time, everything’s ready. Come on!’

Everything? Did he prepare a whole reception?

You took a good look at the back of his head as he walked you to his kitchen, noticing that his hair was slightly wet. Did he also shower? You swallowed at the thought. He probably didn’t invest as much time into the preparations as you did, though. You blamed your best friend for the inappropriate thought she planted in your head!

‘Here, take a look.’

He opened his freezer, and you gasped.

There was an entire collection of ice cream. Cones, popsicles, buckets… All different flavors and manufacturers.

‘I see you’re impressed,’ he smirked. ‘I have a niece and a nephew, you know? Kids aren’t easy to please these days.’

‘Can’t deny that I am. How many do you have here?’

‘No idea… I just keep buying them. Which one’s to your liking? You can try different ones. I’m in the mood for mint choco and lemon.’

‘Those are my favorites!’ You jumped up like a kid.

‘Really? Both?’

‘Yeah! I haven’t seen a lemon ice cream anywhere, only sorbets! Where did you find it?’ You closed the freezer as he got the two buckets out.

Baekhyun suddenly seemed pleased with himself.

‘You think I give away trade secrets just like that…’ He replied mysteriously.

‘I wanna buy some too,’ you pouted, circling around him while he took the lids off. ‘If you don’t tell me… I’ll eat all of yours!’

‘Ha, go ahead. There’s more where that came from,’ he teased right back, hovering slightly over you.

Lowering your gaze to avoid staring directly at him, you noticed something.

‘What’s this?’

Baekhyun turned back to the counter.

‘Ah, this old thing? You know how ice cream scoops are sold in paper cups or cones? This thing,’ he picked it up. ‘Is to make those. Watch.’

He dipped the instrument in water and shook it slightly, then scooped the mint ice cream, creating a smooth green ball with tiny pieces of chocolate adding to its hue.

‘Cool,’ you muttered, genuinely finding that fascinating.

‘Right? It’s awesome!’

‘Let me guess: the kids don’t appreciate it enough?’ You asked.

‘Those little- Here, you try with lemon.’ He pressed on a small lever and dropped the green globe into a bowl.

You shook your head.

‘I’ll mess it up; you do it.’

‘Come on, Y/N. You can’t mess it up; it’s just ice cream.’

‘Just ice cream? You don’t deserve to know the secret selling spots for this!’

He snorted, moving to the side to give you more space to try and repeat his previous actions.

You dipped it in water like he did and shook it before moving the lemon ice cream bucket closer. Spending about twenty seconds taking aim, you huffed.

‘I can’t do it! Yours is so round and pretty; I am not that professional.’

‘I’ll help,’ he chuckled at your meltdown, holding your wrist and softly pressing down on your hand to guide it. ‘Scoop it this way to make it full and round.’

You did as you were told, yet your mind was far away from the scooping technique. The entire focus of your being was now set on the unprecedented proximity you were in. He held your hand, his chest so close to your shoulder that you could feel the heat radiating off him. When you dropped a yellow ball of lemon ice cream into the bowl, you could only pray that he didn’t notice the goosebumps littering your arms.

‘See? Yours is even better-shaped than mine,’ he hummed close to your ear.

‘Y-yeah.’

As if sensing your perturbation, Baekhyun suddenly stepped back.

‘Trying just two flavors is a waste of an evening. Let’s get more.’

Ten minutes later, you were sitting in his living room at the small table in front of his couch. The bowl with at least a dozen different ice creams sat atop another one, which was filled with ice.

‘No one likes melted goo, right?’ Baekhyun chuckled while constructing this mobile freezer.

You tried all of them one by one, gushing about each flavor.

‘The grape one isn’t tickling my fancy,’ he said, nudging the oddly-colored glob away.

‘Really?’ You reached for it with your spoon.

‘Don’t even try it. That’s bad,’ he scrunched his nose. ‘I can taste every chemical they used to make this grape flavor.’

You laughed, trying it despite his protests.

‘It tastes like… very cheap jelly,’ you said.

‘Exactly! Such a strange texture. Hmm, I shall look for a better option then. My nephew Siwoo loves grapes.’

You smiled at his concern for his youngest family member’s preferences.

‘Your nephews must be the happiest kids in town with an uncle like that,’ you murmured, stealing a bite from the rest of the lemon ball that he subtly nudged your way earlier.

‘They’re pretty lucky, aren’t they?’ He agreed easily, earning a snicker from you.

As you savored the last of the lemon flavor on your tongue, he leaned in, eyes focused on your lips.

‘You eat just like Siwoo,’ he instinctively wiped your lower lip with his thumb.

Looking up at him, you caught the moment he realized what he was doing and retreated.

‘Sorry,’ he muttered awkwardly. ‘It’s a habit.’

Pressing your finger to your lower lip, which was now burning, you shook your head neutrally.

‘It’s okay. You must spend a lot of time with them,’ you scooped more in your spoon to somehow soothe the burn on your lips.

‘Not as much as I’d like. Most of the time, our schedules don’t match up, especially with them living in a different city. I try to have them over or visit them as much as possible.’

Baekhyun’s voice became warmer as he reminisced.

‘I get scolded by hyung a lot for spoiling them. But what can I do? At least they’ll have those pleasant memories and presents to remember me by while we’re apart.’

‘Are they close in age?’

‘About four years apart. Seoyul is pretty grown already; I can’t believe her little brother is going to school soon as well.’ He smiled, remembering something. ‘When she started her first grade, he was so upset. He cried every time she left the house.’

‘Aw, that’s so cute,’ you cooed. ‘So they’re getting along well?’

‘Yeah, apart from the occasional bickering. Siwoo is… a boy.’

‘A little daredevil?’

‘He’s driving his noona insane sometimes. To be honest, I was exactly the same at his age. We’re both lucky to have siblings several years older.’

‘Ah, so your hyung is much older than you?’

‘Seven years. He was almost like a father,’ Baekhyun chuckled. ‘But had he been even a couple of years younger… Pretty sure he would’ve given me a piece of his mind back then.’

‘I wouldn’t ever imagine that you were a maknae of your family.’

‘Why? I had so much aegyo as a child! Yes, my mom had to exercise lots of patience, but I was cute as hell.’

‘I’m sure that’s how it was,’ you hummed.

‘I’m still in the top-3 cutest of our family list. Might even be cuter than Seoyul at times; she’s way too serious these days.’

‘Wow, going over your nephews’ heads after the title… How mature of you.’

‘Hey, don’t blame me for being extremely cute.’

‘Show me some aegyo then,’ you challenged him with a smile.

‘Huh, you wish. You’re not ready for my aegyo, Y/N-ie.’ He responded sassily.

‘Is that so?’ You smirked, holding his gaze up until the chime of your phone provided an interruption.

Your bestie found a great time to pry into your business, which was evident from the message previews on the screen.

Ki-yaah | You’re not texting me back…

Ki-yaah | Which either means that you chickened out…

Ki-yaah | …or his stamina is REALLY freaking impressive

Ki-yaah | Which one is it??? I hope it’s the latter!

You inhaled sharply and started coughing, barely managing to swipe those messages off the screen before Baekhyun could see them.

‘Are you okay?’ He patted you on the back to help you overcome your coughing fit.

‘Yeah, I’m fine. I didn’t realize it was so late… It was so rude of me to keep you up. Let me help you clean this up.’

‘Leave it,’ he shook his head, catching you by the wrist. ‘I’ll put this away later.’

‘I’ll… get going then,’ you stood so abruptly that your legs couldn’t keep up with you, completely numb from being in the same position for so long.

‘Y/N!’ Baekhyun rose to catch you by the arms. ‘Take a second, sit on the couch. Your legs must’ve fallen asleep.’

You swatted at your legs with your palms, urging the blood flow to restore quicker.

‘Sorry…’

‘Why are you sorry? I’m not in a hurry to get rid of you.’ He stated simply.

‘It’s just so late… and… you must have stuff to do.’

‘Nope. I actually had fun. I rarely get to sit around at home munching on ice cream and enjoying another grownup’s company.’

You bit your lip shyly at his words, and he suddenly tsked.

‘Although I feel like we were mostly talking about me. That’s a shame. I want to hear about you as well,’ Baekhyun mused, walking you to the door. ‘Well, let’s save it for next time.’

Next time, he said.

Next time??

You turned your back on him to conceal the shade of your cheeks and pretended to fidget with the doorknob.

‘Let me,’ he reached over you, pressing his warm chest to your back for a second to unlock the door.

But before you could step outside, his fingers wrapped around your forearm in a lax hold.

‘And Y/N… If you ever find yourself craving some lemon ice cream… I’m ready to provide it.’

With that, he pushed the door open and allowed you to leave his apartment.

Masterlist

A/N: Thank you for reading! Another BBH mini-series started 💫 I hope you enjoyed part 1~ Pls let me know what you think via comments, asks and reblogs, my darlings 💜 Also, I am very curious if you are picturing anyone in particular as Hoseok hehe 🙃

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backtothefanfiction · 4 months

Text

Done| tasm!peter imagine

Warnings: angsty, fighting, break up

A/N: it’s been a little moment, I need to give my boy some love but I also just feel angsty so….

“PETER, LOOK AT ME!” You screamed at him from the kitchen doorway.

You’d been arguing for the last 10 minutes. You wish you could say this was something new, but this fight had been going on ever since you first met. Peter was in love with you, has always been in love with you, but would rather punish himself than go through what he did with Gwen again. But he could never stay away. He always came running back. Crawling back down into that web that he carefully constructed and built just to trap you and keep you there. But every time that web shook just a little, he’d get cold feet. Instead of staying and facing what came head on or fixing the string that broke, he runs, only to realise he can’t let you go- he needs you. And so he always comes back.

Tonight- tonight was a running night… and you’ve had enough.

He can’t look at you, won’t look at you because he knows he will break.

“I can’t do this again.” You say as you sigh, your hands rubbing away the tears streaking down your face as you turn into the kitchen. “I can’t,” you repeat, more for yourself to keep your conviction than for his benefit. “I can’t.”

You turn and notice the fresh flowers you’d put in a vase not 2 hours ago when he turned up for dinner. You saw them for what they truly were now, apology flowers. You didn’t want them. Before you could fully process the action you had picked up the glass, stormed back into the doorway between the kitchen and living room and thrown them at the wall, just above his head. His head swerved to the side out the way, but still he didn’t get up, he didn’t look at you, he didn’t say anything. He knew there was nothing he could say to make this any better and knew you just needed to get things out of your system.

“We’re done, Peter, okay? We’re done.” You reiterated as you picked up your keys off the counter and started making your way to the front door, you really needed some air before you burnt down the whole apartment with your rage. “Pack up all your shit. I want you gone by the time I come back.” You said, putting on your coat. “And leave your key on the coffee table.”

He just nodded. No final words, no more excuses or apologies. No goodbye. Just a nod of acknowledgment. Is that all you had become- is that all you would be the next time you ran into him.

You’d slammed the door and taken 5 steps down the hall when you froze. No- you realised. You weren’t done. But this fight was.

When you walked back into the apartment Peter was picking up the flowers off of the floor. He places the bunch down onto the coffee table and stuffs his hands into his pockets as you slowly walk towards him.

“I thought you said you were done.”

“I’m not done.” You say quietly, “but this, this is done.” You say to him. “This argument, is done. Peter I’m not Gwen. If I see you swinging towards danger, first thing I do is start running the other way. Why do you keep coming back?” You ask him. You’ve gone so soft, like talking to a toddler. He wants a fight, it’s easier if he has the fight. Then you can paint him as the bad guy and walk away. He can continue to punish himself for something that was never his fault, it was hers. And for him to keep taking that out on you, his anger, his grief, it was wrong. To keep taking it out on himself. It’s wrong.

He’s silent, so you continue, “I’m not your punching bag Peter, I’m your girlfriend- and I have been for 3 years now, whether you like to acknowledge that or not. Peter, look at me,” you ask again, reaching out for him, your hands wrapping around his wrists and pulling his hands from his pockets. “Peter, touch me.” You say softly, guiding his hands to your body. It’s a slow process, but he slowly moves them to the tops of your arms, finally finding a home on your cheeks when he finally looks at you. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere… and we both know neither are you…. This fight is done now. It’s time to move on. It’s time to let her go.”

You watch as his eyes soften, his own fight leaving him because he knows you’re right.

“You’ll never overcome fear of you keep running away.” You remind him. “You’re Spider-Man…” you say, leaving the sentence open for him to finish.

“And Spider-Man never runs away.” He concedes.

“Tell me it’s done. Tell me this fight is done.” You say one last time.

You feel his whole body sigh as he finally concedes, released that control, that power and just begins to float, to survive. “It’s done.” He agrees.

His arms wrap around you and he kisses the top of your head as he holds you tight. “I’m sorry.” He murmurs into your hair.

“I know.” You coo. “I know.”

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #andrew!peter parker #peter parker imagine #spider-man #andrew!peter x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm peter parker x reader #peter Parker angst #andrew!peter imagine #andrew peter x reader

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hornedqueenofhell · 4 months

Text

Holiday in... Handcuffs? Pt. 3

Pt 2

Steve woke up on the 24th to Eddie scrubbing the sleep from his eyes before blinking owlishly at him. They were both bundled under a heavy quilt and a few blankets scattered over them, a quick flex of his fingers shows that his hand is still tangled up with Eddie’s.

“Morning,” Eddie offered softly after stretching out like a cat with a yawn, fingers curling in Steve’s because he still refuses to let go.

“Morning sleepyhead.” Steve reaches out to tuck some the wild, sleep ruffle curls behind Eddie’s ear. Eddie places his hand over Steve’s and nuzzles into the touch, kissing his palm tenderly and looking at him with hooded eyes.

“I wish Hector had better timing for breaking up with me, then I could have woken you up in the way I really fucking want to.” He nips at Steve’s fingers, soothing the small nips with openmouthed kisses that make Steve want to whimper and pull Eddie over him.

But he’s a glutton for punishment so instead he asks, “I get it’s easy to say stuff like that now that you know he’s an ass but you were going to bring him here to meet your family, I’m guessing that means you felt pretty seriously about him.”

Eddie sighs and shifts to sit up in the bed, plucking at Steve’s fingers because he still refuses to release his hold on the other man. “I definitely felt more serious about it than he did. I wanted commitment and he apparently wanted an easy lay. I was the one talking about leaving things at each other’s places, wanting to do double dates with our friends and he’d always skirt around it or change the subject or kiss me. I’d hoped that this trip would make him realize how serious I was about us. And instead I found out how serious he wasn’t.”

He scrubs his hand through his hair before folding his arms over his knees and laying his head on them. “So I guess the short answer to your question is sort of. I was more serious about wanting a real relationship than I was about wanting him I think. Because I’m feeling really hard pressed to find anything even remotely warm and fuzzy feeling about him anymore.”

“That makes sense, I went through the same thing a while ago. And it was hard getting partners to understand why I wake up so early to start at the bakery or thinking I’m a workaholic because I live above my job. It’s been about two years since my last relationship because of that.”

Eddie props his chin up on his arms, looking over at Steve, “Is that why you volunteered to come? You’ve only really known me for a few hours as someone besides another customer at your shop. Then I offer you my big sob story and you saw …a kindred spirit? Was it just to not be alone on Christmas? You just got into a stranger's truck and let me drive you two hours out of the city to meet my family who you know nothing about and now we’re sharing a bed. How did you end up here?”

Steve folds his hands behind his head and stares up at the ceiling with a sigh, chewing on his lip. “Besides the fact that I know I could take you in a fight easily? Well, I feel the same way around you that I did when I met Robin. I feel like even if we don’t work out romantically, I just know that you’re supposed to be part of the rest of my life.”

“Hey now I’m scrappy!” Eddie protests petulantly before his expression melts into something contemplative, “But on the same level as your platonic soulmate huh? I think I can live with that.”

Steve’s hand wraps around his ankle and tugs him back down to the bed, bullying him into his arms until Eddie is tucked under Steve’s chin. “You were saying? I haul bags of flour darling, you’re like air to me.”

“Oh am I, you sure about that?” Eddie strains against Steve’s hold, wiggling around until he manages to get one arm free. Which Steve just grabs and uses to flip Eddie onto his back, straddling him and pinning his arms above his head.

“What now pretty boy?” Steve coos meanly. Eddie whines in response, legs trying to buck Steve off but only turning himself on more. Steve leans down to nibble along his jaw, up to his ear. “Come make cinnamon rolls with me and maybe I’ll give you a little extra sugar after.” And then he slides from the bed, dragging Eddie to the edge of the bed with him.

“You’re taking advantage of meeee.” Eddie groans as he’s manhandled about so easily.

“It only counts as taking advantage if I can’t tell how much you like it.” Steve says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “We can cuddle on the couch while the dough proofs, come on.”

~O~

Hopper went by the bodega first thing in the morning to ask about their footage. They only had a camera towards the parking lot so he still couldn’t see the kidnappers face clearly, but it was enough to get a plate from the guy's car.

Dustin had texted him updates whenever he could from Steve’s phone, it looks like the kidnappers had stopped for the night near a couple of very isolated cabins. It was the start of a location though, hopefully the plate would be able to lead him to a specific one before anything could happen to Steve.

Hopper pours himself a cup of black coffee and immediately updates the tracking board before starting to run a check on the plates. The waiting is harder than ever, knowing it’s his kid he’s trying to find. What if they’re too late? What if Steve is gone without ever knowing how much he means to the party? What if Hopper never gets to tell Steve that he thinks of him as his son?

The results come in a few hours later which is both great and terrible. Great because he’s one step closer to finding Steve, terrible because it means the kidnapper already has a record. Hopper clicks to open the file and now he has a name. Edward Munson.

His rap sheet is mostly petty stuff from a few years ago, possession of marijuana, loitering, a parking ticket he’d paid off. Nothing here even remotely hints at a jump to kidnapping but the curly haired figure scowling from the booking mugshot looks similar enough to the guy he saw tackling Steve that he feels comfortable with his conclusion. He prints out the mugshot and tacks it up to the board as well, resisting the urge to shoot the image and pretend it’s the man responsible. Before he can get too lost in the emotions threatening to bubble up inside him his phone rings, it’s Dustin.

“Hey Dust-”

“He’s moved again.” Dustin cuts him off abruptly. Hopper feels a chill run down his spine.

“Where?”

Dustin sends him another screenshot that shows the blip of Steve’s phone deep in the woods. Hopper swears violently when he realizes there’s an abandoned quarry nearby.

“Do you think he’s still…”

“We can only keep hoping Dustin. I just got a bead on who the kidnapper might be. Has Steve ever mentioned an Edward Munson?” On a whim Hopper types the man’s name into their database search bar.

“Umm, there’s an Eddie who comes by the bakery occasionally. Do you think he was stalking Steve, he’d seemed nice according to him.”

A handful of results pop up and Hopper finds himself absently saying goodbye to Dustin as he starts reading. Edward Munson’s mother died in a fire when he was six, his father Al Munson was currently serving 15 years for vehicular manslaughter and child endangerment. Eleven year old Eddie had been in the car when his drunk father crashed and killed two other people. Custody of the kid fell to his uncle Wayne Munson, Al’s brother. Forget kidnapping, this guy had budding serial killer written all over him. And now he was heading into the woods with Steve.

Hopper files a request for housing records for the Munson family and a search warrant for the apartment on Munson’s license.

~O~

Wayne loved the bourbon pecan cinnamon rolls that Steve made. Loved seeing Steve curled up on his nephew’s chest, Eddie reading softly to him, even more. The record player in the corner had some classic Christmas songs playing while a fire crackled in the hearth. Wanting to preserve this sweet moment, Wayne couldn’t resist pulling his phone out and taking a picture of them. The shutter sound caused both of their heads to snap up as they realized they weren’t alone.

“You taking pictures of us old man? You perv.” Eddie teases and Wayne flips him off before going to get another cup of coffee.

“Maybe Steve needs to take you outside and let you run around, burn off some of that attitude of yours.” He calls back out to them, Steve flushes as Eddie shouts back, eyebrows bouncing salaciously.

“He doesn’t need to take me outside for that.”

Wayne rolls his eyes before settling into his armchair and taking a deep drink of his coffee. “Okay, it’s time for you to go wear yourself out. Go take your boy and find us a Christmas tree. And if you’re lucky I won’t lock you outside after you animal.”

Eddie cackles but does encourage them to get up with a soft kiss to Steve’s hair. Steve nuzzles their cheeks together before complying, helping Eddie up off the couch. The two of them are disgustingly cute as they help each other into their jackets, using scarfs and hats as excuses to casually touch each other and pull the other close. Wayne just hopes they can keep it down tonight, an old man needs his beauty sleep.

They gather up an axe, a tarp, and rope from the shed before tromping out into the forest. It only takes about an hour of wandering before they find a suitable tree, Eddie teaching Steve how to make the proper cuts so that the tree falls over safely.

“How did you learn to do that?” Steve asks as they get the tree loaded up on the tarp.

“Wayne, he taught me a lot of this stuff to help me find better outlets for my emotions after my father got put away. Best thing he ever did though was teach me to play guitar.” Eddie threads the ropes through so they don’t rip the branches off the tree before handing one hand off to Steve and keeping the other. Their free hands thread together sticky and smelling heavily of pine but neither seem to mind the idea of being stuck together.

“Will you play for me sometime?”

“Of course sweetheart,” He presses their sides together and squeezes their fingers, “I’d love to.”

Wayne has already started unpacking the bins when they get back, the tree stand ready to go as the excess needles are shaken off and any broken branches are trimmed. Wayne directs Steve on which way to tilt the tree while Eddie grabs water for the base and then tightens the holding screws.

“She’s a fine tree boys, now let's get her dressed up.”

They decide on the lights and Eddie pulls out a lot of garland that he starts winding around banisters and the fireplace and even around Steve to peck him on the nose. Wayne huffs at them and swats Eddie away to stop distracting Steve unless he plans on actually doing anything about it.

Steve laughs and blushes, he’s never seen a parent be so blase about relationships with their child but considering what Eddie’s mentioned about his childhood he gets the feeling that Eddie and Wayne are a very unique case. They all hang the ornaments on the tree together, weaving in and out of each other’s spaces as they find the perfect spot on the tree.

Once the tree is decorated Eddie hauls the last two bins outside and get Steve to bring out the ladder as he starts untangling.

“We have clips drilled in along the frame of the house to make this easier so hopefully this won’t take too long. It’s gonna be getting dark in a few hours.” Untangling the lights probably takes longer than putting them up, true to Eddie’s word the clips do make things easier. And getting to watch Eddie’s thighs work as he moves up and down the ladder while Steve holds it steady really is the gift that keeps on giving.

Eddie feels worn out by the time all the lights are in place, he does not go to the gym often for a reason. Seeing the shine in Steve’s eyes though as he takes in the beautiful colors and warm glow of the tree through the window tells him it was worth it though.

“Merry Christmas Steve.” Eddie whispers, hugging the other man from behind as the brunette snaps a picture of all their hard work, and after a few tries, gets it sent off to Dustin.

“Thank you for bringing me with you Eddie, and Merry Christmas.” They stand there together, admiring their hard work until Wayne calls them in for dinner.

~O~

The warrant falls through. The judge refuses to sign due to a lack of evidence, he’s also frankly pissed that Hopper yanked him away on Christmas Eve to try and harass a guy whose record has been clean for years. And the request for residence records is still processing.

Before Hopper can start shouting or seeing if there’s any other judge who owes him a favor he can call in Dustin calls again.

“Steve sent me a picture. I think it’s where he’s been taken; there’s no caption, no call, nothing.” The boy has been beside himself with panic and grief but this, this is proof that Steve is alive. At least for now. It’s a breath of air for the party, knowing that all is not lost yet.

“Send it to me now.”

He rushes back to the station and pulls up the cabins on the map, trying to use the picture to figure out which one it is. He thinks he’s got it nailed down to two and one the second search he hits paydirt. A cabin owned by one Wayne Munson. He scribbles down the address and texts Dustin to have everyone meet at the Hopper-Byers place tonight. They’re going to get Steve back.

Pt 4

#stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dustin henderson #jim hopper #wayne munson #baker!steve #mechanic!eddie #modern au #no upside down au #comedy of errors #accidental kidnapping #steddiefic chronicles

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healmydesires · 1 year

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enchanted (s.h) - teaser

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: prince!steve harrington x fem!servant reader

❥ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: “You’ve been in love with the prince for god knows how long. For the longest time you were content with admiring him from afar, knowing your adoration for your favourite prince could never be revealed. Until one day, everything changed.” royal!au. childhood best friends to lovers. fools/idiots to lovers. forbidden romance.

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff + angst + smut (18+ mdni)

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 3,5k so far (it’s gonna be a big BOI)

⟶ A/N: I know for a fact that this will be a big fic. I have so many ideas that it’s driving me insane and I have to have this finished!!! NOW!!! anyways pls anticipate this fic with me 🫶

let me know if you wanna be added to the tag list or if you wanna ramble in my inbox about this with me! <3

You had worked at the palace of the kingdom Pagrarus for as long as you could remember. You knew every nook and cranny—every secret passage and hidden room in that palace. It was practically your home. You took care of it, making sure that it was clean and pretty every day. Your childhood wish was to work for the royal family, just like your parents did. Your family had served the royal family as maids and whatnot for generations, so it only made sense that you grew up around them, and subsequently, their child.

Steve Harrington.

You don’t regret it. Working for royalty.

In fact, if anything, you’re grateful. Because if not for your position now, how could have you crossed paths with a soul like him?

You still remember the day you met him. Clear as day.

Such a sweet sweet day it was. The memory is still fresh in your mind, like the scent of your childhood room. A scent you never quite forgot. It faded over time, sure. But if you strained your memory even now, you can still smell it. The scent of comfort.

—

Decidedly, there have been many days in your life. Some happy, some sad. Some you remember better than others while others fade away into the back of your mind. Some are ingrained so deep in your mind that when you close your eyes, you can see every detail as if it’s currently happening. None, however, do you remember more clearly than the day you met Steve. It had been almost two decades ago; when you were five, and he was six.

You remember being nervous - your parents had brought you along to the castle, to introduce you to the royal family - you used to be a very lonely child, not being able to make friends easily. You were in awe as you walked through the luxurious castle with wide eyes, seeing it for the first time, it was truly a beautiful place.

As a reward for your family’s many generations of loyalty, they got the honour of working directly for the royal family. Your parents were close to the royal family despite that they were working for them. When you were very young, your mother was a personal attendant to the young prince.

It had all been incredibly overwhelming back then, and you’d only hidden further behind your mother’s legs. Until - you’d spotted a boy, looking just as lonely and nervous as you, also behind his mothers legs. The prince.

A fond smile curls on your face as you remember Steve’s little frame. With cute round cheeks, curious brown eyes, long brown hair, dressed in fine fabrics that were only made for royal people. He had sparked your curiosity, his intriguing eyes looking at you as if he longed for your friendship already.

Your parents pushed you into his direction, you’d approached him hesitantly. Immediately, he’d give you the brightest smile once you were in front of him. And that one action - that one smile - had sealed it between the two of you. Ever since then, Steve has been your best friend. He’d stick out his hand for you to take and would tug you along with him down the hall, showing you around the palace as you both giggled.

Nostalgia cascades through you as you continue mulling over your relationship with prince Steve. You’ve lived twenty-five years, and throughout the vast majority of it - he has been your only constant.

And for as long as you could remember, you’ve had an intense and hopeless crush on the prince, Steve Harrington.

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rorywritesjunk · 5 months

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I can’t tell where the journey will end But I know where to start

Prequel to my Kid Buggy fic, set about 11-ish years before that story.

Buggy meets you by chance when he needs his buttons sewn back onto his jacket. He’s young, up and coming, and he thinks everyone should cower before him wherever he goes, but all you do is smile at him.

Rating: PG-13ish just for some swearing. Warning: Buggy’s in his early 20s. He’s an asshole. He just is because I wanted to write him loud, demanding, everything. There’s 3 new characters thrown in because why not? Future Wife gets a name as well! A/N: I have no idea when Buggy became a Captain, so he’s a fresh faced captain in this. No clue how long this fic will be. I just started on the 4th chapter but I’m excited to write it out! I had fun with the original fic and decided to write the prequel to how they met. Enjoy!

Title comes from “Wake Me Up” by Avicii.

TAGLIST: @lostfirefly @ane5e @kingofthemfingpirates @the-angriest-angel @tiredemomama @valen-yamyam16 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @plethora-of-fickleness

Chapter 1 + Chapter 2 + Chapter 3 + Chapter 4 + Chapter 5 + Chapter 6 + Chapter 7 + Chapter 8 + Chapter 9 + Chapter 10 + Chapter 11 + Chapter 12 + Chapter 13 + Chapter 14 + Chapter 15 + Chapter 16 + Chapter 17 + Chapter 18 + Epilogue

Chapter 4

The girls refused to speak to you because of how you defended Buggy. They still thought he was rude and didn’t like him, and they didn’t understand why you’d defend him. They were also mad because not only did they have to clean the kitchen twice that night, but Miss Pins had them sort fabric scraps by color before organizing all the threads the same way over the last few weeks. The final act of punishment was organizing all the pins and needles by length and gauge.

They didn’t think it was fair.

Had you been in charge you would have dismissed them from their apprenticeships entirely.

Yes, Buggy was loud, had been rude each visit to you and Miss Pins but he was a pirate and all the shop’s customers were pirates. A lot of them were rude to you and Miss Pins, some even threatening, but he was also becoming a repeat customer and overpaid you each time, and when you brought it to the attention of Miss Pins, she let you keep the extra amount because you took on helping him.

Honestly, and you didn’t want to admit it to your boss just yet, but you liked Buggy. So far he hadn’t tried to flirt with you, act inappropriately, or threaten you. Countless others had since the day you started as an apprentice. Miss Pins was protective of her girls, having no problem pointing a gun at any pirate creeps should they make her apprentices uncomfortable. Buggy was loud, demanding, but he wasn’t a creep.

It had been a month since you last saw Buggy and you figured that you weren’t going to see him again. Why would he return to the shop after what the girls had said? You felt bad about it and wished you could have talked with him a bit more, but he took off so fast that you didn’t get a chance to.

You still had his socks that you fixed for him and even secured him an extra pair. Maybe he’d stop by to pick them up? You weren’t going to hold out a lot of hope. No doubt he would be on his ship, sailing for treasure or adventure, forgetting about the incident a month ago.

Hopefully.

The shop was closed for the evening but you were still working when you saw him again. You wanted to get extra work done before taking a few days for yourself to celebrate your birthday. The girls originally wanted to do something with you but now that they weren’t talking to you, you got to do whatever you wanted.

You were going to go to a nearby lake and feed the ducks while enjoying a packed lunch.

The pounding at the door startled you. You grabbed a broom to protect yourself as you approached it and looked through the peephole. You saw the bright red nose and immediately relaxed as you opened the door, smiling at him as he stood on the doorstep.

“We’re closed, you know.” You told him teasingly. “We’re not a clinic where you can stop by whenever you need me to fix something.”

He looked flustered as he tried to think of a response, but you grabbed his hand and pulled him into the shop, closing the door behind him as you headed back to your work. He followed after you, looking around at the different bolts of fabric on shelves, the trays of thread, and several dresses that hung on a rack behind the counter. You took a seat and gestured to the other chair as you picked your sewing back up.

“You left your socks, you know.” You said as you passed the needle through the fabric. You were finishing up another dress for a customer, attaching the bodice and skirt together with piping along where the two pieces met. “I was worried you wouldn’t come back for them.”

Buggy sat down and crossed his arms, turning his attention to what you were doing. Your fingers were careful as you worked, your fingernails guiding along the piping to keep it in place as you sewed. He didn’t think you actually made things, just repaired them, so he watched you for a moment before responding.

“I had other socks.” He mumbled as you removed a pin and stuck it into your little pin cushion. “I… was going to come back.” He glanced up at your face, seeing the look of concentration, and looked back down at your work. “Why are you up so late?”

“Why are you at the shop late?” You countered as you stuck a pin in your mouth before repositioning the fabric. He hesitated and looked away. “Surely not for your socks, Buggy.”

“I… was out on a walk.” He replied as he clenched his jaw. “And I saw the light on and thought maybe you were being robbed.”

You took the pin out of your mouth and stuck it back through the layers of fabric. “And you knocked so kindly.”

“I don’t have-”

He stopped himself and took a deep breath, trying not to overreact. You were just teasing him, trying to rile him up, but there was no malice in your voice. He looked back at you and saw you were smiling at him and his heart skipped a beat and his face was warm. He cleared his throat and tried again.

“I just wanted to stop by and… say hi. I didn’t realize how late it was.”

“Well, hello and good evening then.” You chuckled. “What would you have done if Miss Pins answered the door with her shotgun?”

“I’m not scared of her!” Buggy shot back. You looked over his shoulder and grinned.

“Good evening, boss.”

Buggy spun around, eyes wide, but you laughed. There was no one there. Oh, you were cruel. He turned back around and glared at you. You were still laughing as you set your sewing down. Buggy huffed and looked away from you with a glare on his face.

“Sorry, sorry.” You giggled as you wiped the tears from your eyes. “As for your question about why I’m up so late… My birthday is in two days so I want to get as much work done as possible so I can relax.”

“Oh, birthday?” He repeated. Girls liked getting gifts. Should he get you a gift? Why would he get you one? He looked back at you as you picked your sewing back up now that you had calmed down from laughing. What kind of gift would he get you if he was to get you something? He was a pirate, he could go find some treasure and give half to you, but would that be weird? Why was he even considering that?

“Mhm.” You nodded. “I’m going to go feed and watch the ducks and have lunch.”

“Ducks?” Buggy laughed. Ducks were not exciting, but if you liked them, he would take you all around to show you all the ducks in the world if you wanted. “Just duck watching, that’s it?”

“Yea.” You frowned when he laughed. It wasn’t really anything to laugh about. You didn’t need to do something exciting to enjoy yourself, just sitting and taking it easy was enough. “It’s something I like to do, Buggy.”

“It’s your birthday, though! You should be going out and doing something fun!” He said. “Drinking, having a party, something like that! Go on a raid or something!”

“I’m not a pirate, Buggy.” You reminded him as you looked back at your sewing. “I’d rather do something quiet.”

He leaned back in his seat and watched you with a frown. You lived in a town frequented by pirates, you had to be used to what they got up to, so why would you want to do something as boring as watching ducks? Maybe you were just never given the opportunity to do something fun. Buggy would change that.

“How about we-”

He didn’t get to finish that sentence because he saw you look up, eyes widening at something behind him. He wasn’t going to fall for that again so he rolled his eyes. “The old hag’s not there, so don’t try and trick me again.”

THWACK

“Get the hell out of my shop!” Miss Pins barked as she raised the broom up again. “Do you realize how late it is?!”

Buggy fell out of the chair and dodged the blows from her broom. He almost made it to the door before she threw it at his feet, tripping him up as he scrambled. She stormed over to him and grabbed the door, pulling it open before pointing out.

“It’s too late for you to be coming around!” She snapped as he hurried out the door, but not before he looked back at you for a split second. You were still in your chair, looking rather amused by the whole exchange. At least you weren’t frowning at him anymore. Maybe he could sneak back around for your birthday. He just needed to find out where the ducks would be.

Miss Pins slammed the door behind him before rounding on you. “Stop encouraging him!”

“I haven’t done anything!” You exclaimed. “I’m just being nice to him!”

“That’s encouraging him! I don’t need another lovesick pirate after you, Sunny! He’s as bad as the last one!” Miss Pins snapped. “I can’t keep chasing these pirates off!”

“He’s not like the last one!” You shot back. “And he’s not lovesick, he just needs a friend, Miss Pins. It’s not like he’s asking me to marry him every time he sees me!”

Your boss glared at you as she locked the door and picked up the broom. The last one wasn’t like that until the fifth visit, where he had demanded you to marry him while you were fixing his coat. You were only 19, the man was almost ten years your senior and if your boss hadn’t been there, who knows where you would have ended up. She wasn’t going to lose you then to that man and she wasn’t about to lose you to some nobody pirate.

“He’s not welcome here anymore.” Miss Pins told you. “And next time you see him you tell him that.”

She left after that, returning upstairs without another word, leaving you alone to think about what she said.

#buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x reader #buggy x you #buggy the clown x you #opla buggy the clown #opla buggy the clown x reader #opla buggy x reader #opla buggy the clown x you #buggy the clown x oc #buggy x oc #opla buggy the clown x oc #opla buggy x oc #sunny x buggy #one piece #one piece oc #one piece fanfiction

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angelst4re · 2 years

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So It Goes- Jace Wayland x Reader

୨♡୧ this is the first (and longest) Jamie fic i ever wrote, jace literally owns me. i wanted to post it when my tags started working again but i don't think that's gonna happen :( so reblogs are very much appreciated!! :) <3 UPDATE: MY TAGS WORK AGAIN!!!!

୨♡୧ warnings: NSFW!! smut, oral (f and m recieveing), praise and degradation, jace being jace, spitting, shower sex?, inexperienced reader, experienced jace (ofc), innocence kink?, possibly breeding kink? p0rn with a bit of plot, i could add to this forever, enemies to lovers?, based on a taylor swift song (so it goes IS jace's song, just listen to it!!)

—————————♡—————————

From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he knew you were going to have an impact on his life. He would never say he believed in love at first sight, but it would explain a lot. The way he got excited when you entered the room, he felt himself blush when you’d speak to him, anything you’d do would make him wish for a chance to be yours. But he knew that could never happen, to love is to destroy.

The first time you met Jace, you could tell instantly that he hated you- despised you, even. You could hear him sigh whenever you entered the room, as if he was already bored by your presence, he’d look the other way when you tried to talk to him. Isabelle had told you he was like this, but you refused to believe this was his normal behaviour.

You arrived at the Institute a couple of months ago, your family had been friends with the Lightwoods for years, so when you were made to leave your hometown you were told to go there. It was rather nice, but it wasn’t home. Jace made it obvious that it wasn’t your home.

When the Institute was informed of a large-scale demon attack down in the city, Jace had demanded you stay here ‘she’s too young, she’s not as well-trained as us. She’ll make us fuck it up.’ Oh, how you hated him- but a part of you could never hate him, you were intrigued by everything he did, everything he said, how he fought like he had a death wish, there was a part of you that admired him, maybe even loved him. But he would never feel the same way.

Once, when it was Jace’s turn to train with you, you had tripped and almost knocked him down with you, but he had caught you by the waist. There was something about the way he touched you that day that told you he may not hate you, maybe it was just more of a dislike. But his hands lingered on your waist for longer than they should have, and as you turned around it took everything inside him, all his strength and self control, to stop himself from kissing you.

“What do you mean? I’ve fought before-”

“And you almost got yourself killed, y/n.” Jace stated, picking all the blades he would need for this fight, “I don’t want to risk that- risk you getting us all killed, okay? Just stay here. Leave it to us.”

“But she’s been training with us for months now! I’m sure she has it in her!” Isabelle said, grinning as she handed you some weapons.

“No.” Jace demanded again, taking the weapons from you, what is his problem, you thought.

“Jace, Isabelle’s right. She’s been trained now, she knows what to do.” Alec added.

Jace sighed, it looked like he was deep in thought. His eyes met yours and you quickly looked away.

“Fine.” He said, handing you another blade, “but if she gets us killed-”

“I won’t!” You groan, loading your belt up with weapons.

—————————♡—————————

The fight ended pretty badly. Shadowhunters from all over the country had come to help, it was believed that this was another attack from Valentine. So far, the death count was at 6. Alec was leaning over Isabelle, drawing the healing rune on her as quickly as possible. Her entire left arm was covered in blood, but selfishly all Jace could think of was you. Where were you? Were they going to find you dead or alive? He knew he should never have let you come with him.

With Isabelle now healed, Alec helped her up and they wandered over to Jace who was sat on the ground, covered in dirt and blood.

“We should head back,” Alec began, “the suns rising, they won’t come back-”

“Where’s y/n?” Isabelle interrupted, turning to look around. But you were nowhere to be found.

“Probably dead.” Jace murmured, rising to his feet, “I said she shouldn’t have come with us.”

“We’re going back to the Institute, I need to get Isabelle to the infirmary, why don’t you stay and look for her?”

“Why should I?” Jace huffed, “she’s not my probl-”

“Jace, she may not be your problem, but if she’s dead that will be our problem.” Alec said, sternly, “and also, if you wouldn’t be so arrogant all the time, you would’ve noticed the way she looks at you.”

And they were gone.

Jace stayed for longer than he would want to admit, looking for you. Holding his breath as he came to a pile of dead bodies, he prayed that one of them wouldn’t be you. And they weren’t. He had been searching for almost half an hour, and there was no sign of you. His heart dropped and he felt a lump in his throat. He told you to stay behind. He didn’t want you to get hurt, knowing how much that would hurt him.

Soon enough, he gave up looking. He just accepted that you had been killed and possibly turned to dust, or something along those lines. Why didn’t you listen to him? Maybe because he’s always such a dick, of course you won’t do as he tells you. As he walked back to the Institute he was filled with regret, it became overwhelming. He wished he hadn’t gave the impression that he disliked you, as it was far from the truth. The truth was that he was just scared. He had never felt the way he feels about you with any other girl before, it terrified him. He would do anything for you, but you wouldn’t do the same.

Once he got back to the Institute, he checked on Izzy in the infirmary. Alec had informed Jace that Magnus Bane would be paying her a visit, as the runes didn’t have enough power to heal her fully. Jace knew how Alec felt about Magnus, along with how Magnus felt about Alec. He simply nodded and left, making his way to his room.

As he approached his room, he noticed his door was slightly open. Flooded with panic- which always turned into adrenaline for Jace- he grabbed a blade from his belt and slowly pushed the door open. His eyes widened as he saw who was waiting for him.

“Y/n?” The blade fell to the floor and he rushed over to you, you had a similar problem to Isabelle, yet yours was less severe. Your arm had been caught, possibly clawed by a demon. “What are you doing here?”

“Alec didn’t want me seeing Isabelle’s-”

“When did you get here?”

“Just after the others… Jace I need your help,” you motioned towards your arm, “I didn’t want to ask Alec and I can’t draw runes very well with my other hand-”

Wasting no time, Jace reached for his stele and gently held onto the underside of your arm as he drew the mark on your injury. He felt you suck in your breath as he drew over the wound.

“It’s okay,” he comforted you, “you’re doing so well for me, such a good girl.”

He barely had time to realise what he had just said, too busy trying to not screw up the mark, as a slight whimper left your mouth, causing his body to stiffen.

The air in the room had seemed to have thickened. As Jace finished the rune, he looked up at you with a gentle smile as if to say ‘all done.’ This was the first time he had ever smiled at you.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your hand reaching up to his face to wipe off some of the dirt, “Jace, you're filthy!”

He was going to something back, maybe along the lines of ‘i can be if you want’, but instead he leaned in towards you. The feeling of your skin on his drove him crazy, he had been craving it for months and now he finally had it he couldn’t hold back. Your lips brushed against each other, and you felt him swallow hard before tangling his hand into your hair and pulling you close, kissing you as if he would never kiss again.

Neither of you could quite believe what was happening, and neither of you wanted to stop. It was as if your prayers had been answered, you could not ask for anything more than this, than him.

“Jace,” you whisper as he pulls back for air. You were going to say something but he cut you off.

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he confesses, “when I couldn’t find you after the battle in the city I assumed you…” he couldn’t seem to say it, the one simple word. As if saying it would make it become true, “and it made me regret everything, I should’ve told you sooner, I shouldn’t have been such a dick towards you. I’m sorry, y/n.”

You couldn’t believe what he had said, he didn’t hate you and he even apologised? Jace wasn’t one to apologise very often, Alec had mentioned once. He’d always be so honest, even if it meant being mean.

Without replying to him, you pulled him back towards you again, already missing the feeling of his lips on yours. His tongue swiped on your bottom lip as he tugged on your hair, causing you to gasp, your mouth opening enough for him to slip his tongue in, deepening the kiss. Everything about this felt so intimate, you had never been kissed this way before. It had even caused tingles in your lower belly, and you knew there was only one way to relieve yourself of them.

As Jace’s hands slipped under your t-shirt, you knew how this was going to go. Thinking quickly, you pulled back from the kiss and smirked, running your fingers through his hair.

“Why don’t we take a shower?” Your tone was very suggestive, there was no way in hell that Jace would turn you down.

“Sounds great, I was going to mention how you smell like pond water- Hey!” You smacked his shoulder playfully, standing up from his bed and taking his hand, leading him into his bathroom.

Once you shut the door, you pushed Jace against it, making sure to lock it before wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him down to your level and crashing your lips together once more. This time was a lot more heated, as Jace played with the hem of your shirt, before lifting it up and over your head, breaking the kiss briefly and throwing it to the floor. You could tell he was quite experienced by the way he easily unclasped your bra, making you feel slightly worried- you had only slept with one boy, and he only lasted two minutes.

As your bra fell to the floor, Jace pulled back from the kiss, his mouth now kissing down your chest, to your breasts and finally your nipples. They quickly hardened with arousal as Jace’s lips wrapped around them, your hands stroking his hair as your mouth fell open. You had never been so turned on. You needed him, now.

“Jace,” you whimpered, “I thought we were gonna take a shower?”

“We will, darling. But you want this, right?” He checks, you tell him how you’ve never wanted anything else more in your entire life, only boosting his ego- in the moment, you couldn’t care less.

As Jace pulled away again, you felt cold at the lack of his touch. He started undressing, leaving both your clothes a messy pile on the tiled floor. As you began to undo your belt and slide your jeans down your legs, his hands stopped you. He took your hands and lifted them away as his hands slipped into your jeans, pulling them down along with your underwear, throwing them to the side.

As he went to turn on the water, you noticed that you were both bare, exposed in front of each other. He motioned his finger ‘come here’, and so you followed him. He took your hand as he pulled you into the shower with him. You couldn’t help but giggle as the water fell on the both of you, it was rather cold- Jace noticed this and reached over you, as he pulled back the water started to become warmer.

You both stood and admired each other, you took in the scars on his skin, old wounds that would have possibly been fatal for any ordinary human. As he looked at you, he was also drawn to your scars, but also your curves. He couldn’t help but rest his hand on your hip, then his eyes betrayed him and you caught him staring between your legs.

Slightly flushed in embarrassment, you picked up his shampoo bottle. Pouring some into your left hand, you spun around him, so he was now under the water, facing the wall as you ran your fingers through his hair, working the shampoo in and washing out the dirt and blood that had dried in his blonde locks. As it washed out in the water, you couldn’t help but watch in awe as his hands ran through his hair, the way he always did.

Then it was your turn. After pouring the shampoo into his hands, Jace pulled you close against him as his fingers ran through your hair, he massaged your scalp as he worked in the shampoo. It felt too good. As he accidently caught a knot in your hair, you let out a small gasp and he chuckled, wanting to tug on your hair again- but he decided to save that for later.

He took the bottle of body wash from the small shelf in his shower and worked it into his hands, before rubbing it across your body.

“Sorry, love, but you’re going to have to smell like me.” He couldn’t help but start at your breasts, massaging them with the bubbles, before working down your arms, neck, stomach, back- and finally, your legs. As he washed your legs, he got down on his knees. You almost moaned at the sight of it. He poured out some more body wash and began washing your left thigh, moving down to your knee, then your calf, your ankle, and foot. He then repeated this on your other leg. As he washed you, he couldn’t help but catch a glimpse of your pussy, you were practically dripping.

He quickly finishes, standing again as you now start to wash him. You feel as his body eases under your touch, your hands move from his back to his arms, making sure to clean all the dirt from his skin. You’d never imagine Jace being this vulnerable with someone, but this wasn’t anyone, this was you. You moved down, now to his legs, you try your hardest not to look between his legs, knowing how it’ll make you feel, so you carry on down his legs.

Despite your inexperience in bed physically, you had come up with many scenarios in your mind. One of them was riding Jace’s thigh, and as your hand rubbed the bubbles into his skin, your mouth was practically watering at the thought all over again.

“All done,” you smile, standing back up again. Saying no more, Jace pushes you against the wall, his hands on your waist as the water continues to fall on you both. He connects your lips once more, the last time had been more desperate, now this was full of love, passion, want.

You bring your arms to wrap around his neck again, partially for balance. His kisses trail from your lips to your jaw and down your neck, where you feel him begin to nibble the skin, sure to leave some bruising for tomorrow.

“Can I go down on you?” He asks against your neck, his kisses now moving down to your collarbone, “please?”

This completely threw you off, Jace was asking to go down on you?

“Please. Nobody’s ever done that before.” You confess. He lifts his head back up, giving you a look that says ‘seriously?’.

“Then I’ll be the first, darling. You’ll never forget it.” He says, smirk spreading across his face as he kisses down your chest to your tummy, and gets back down on his knees again. You feel those familiar tingles as he spreads your legs, placing one of them up on his shoulder. “If you don’t like it, tell me to stop, sweetheart. Okay?”

“Okay.” You nod your head, biting down on your lip as you feel his fingers begin to spread your folds, his mouth placing a delicate kiss on your clit. His tongue then began to lick around the nub, gently flicking it up and down as you groaned, your hand coming down to his head. His mouth wrapped around your clit and sucked slowly, stopping for a moment and then sucking again. You felt your core clenching down on nothing, you wished he’d slip a finger into you, but one of his hands was wrapped around your thigh, holding you in place, and the other was holding your hand.

You were left gasping for air as you felt his teeth graze your clit, the new sensation clouded your brain, it seemed the only words you were now capable of saying were ‘Jace’ and ‘please’. This only encouraged him to tease you further. He wanted to ruin you for any other man, make sure that nothing could ever compare to the pleasure he gave you.

As he started sucking on your clit again, you began grinding down on his face. Then you felt your stomach tighten, this was more intense than any orgasm you had ever given yourself with just your fingers. You hadn’t yet realised you were holding your breath, but as you came on his face you let out a loud, almost pornographic moan.

“Holy shit,” you heard Jace say from between your thighs. His fingers now toying with your clit, causing you to squirm from the overstimulation. “I’ve never made anyone squirt before, that was insane!” He grins, wiping his face as he rises to his feet again. He notices you burying your face in your hands. “Baby, don’t be embarrassed. That was so fucking hot.” He says, moving your hands away from your face, cupping your cheek as he places a kiss on your lips, causing you to taste yourself. As he pulled you closer to him, in attempt to deepen the kiss, you slightly pushed him back, plucking up the courage to ask him-

“Can I go down on you?”

He eagerly nodded his head.

“Only if you want to, of course.” He says.

“I want to try it. I’ve never done it before.” You say, settling yourself on your knees in front of him. Before you reach your hand out to touch him, he stops you- you worry that you’ve already done something wrong and look up at him.

“What have you done before, darling?” He asks, not a single hint of judgement in his voice as he strokes your cheek again.

“Only the actual… act.” You explain, “it didn’t last very long, either.”

He frowns, looking down at you sympathetically.

“Poor baby,” if this was in any other situation, you would’ve smacked him. But right now wasn’t the time, “it’s okay, I’ll teach you.” He says, removing his hands from you. You take his cock in your hand, although it was too big for just one hand. You begin pumping it in your fist, but you worried this wouldn’t be enough, “if you want, you could use your mouth,” Jace says between pants. Like him, just the sight of you on your knees for him was enough to make him cum. You take the tip of him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around it, tasting the pre-cum that had leaked out. You hear him moan your name, knowing you must be doing something right, you continue your actions.

Soon, deciding you wanted to change it up again, you attempt to take his entire length in your mouth, although you ended up gagging after taking just over half of him. His hand comes down to your wet hair, stroking your head, telling you to only do what you’re comfortable with- but after giving you the best orgasm of your life, you feel like you owed him this.

So you try again, hollowing your cheeks and you manage to take more of him down your throat. His hand comes down to hold you in place, forgetting in the moment that this is your first time and that he should be gentle, but you didn’t want him to hold back. You gagged around him again, and he quickly removed his hand, cursing himself and apologising to you. But all you did was take his hand again, putting it back where it was and looking up at him as if to say ‘it’s okay.’

You suspected he was close, words fell from his mouth such as ‘good girl, taking my cock like this’, ‘your mouth feels like heaven’, ‘look at you, with my cock stuffed down your throat’, ‘my pretty little slut’. You loved hearing the words that came from his mouth, they only pushed you into taking him further, desperate for him to cum in your mouth.

“I’m gonna cum, darling.” He warns you, but to his surprise you only suck harder on him, needing to taste him.

He was pushed over the edge when you looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded, he had never seen anything like it. The way you took his cock, every last inch, into your mouth. You felt his cum start to leak out into your mouth- to your surprise it tasted quite pleasant, unlike what your friends described it as, but maybe it was just because it was Jace.

You swallowed every last drop, taking him out of your mouth when you knew you’d worked him through his high. You opened your mouth for him, showing him how you had taken his seed. All he could do was moan, and smile down at you.

You stood back up, holding onto him for support as your knees ached. You were so desperate for him to fuck you now, you felt your hips grinding into his without you even realising it.

“I need you,” you whisper against his neck, peppering him with kisses, “I need you to show me what it’s like to get fucked properly.”

Your words seemed to have the same effect on him as his did on you, as you heard his breath hitch and his hands grabbed your hips.

“Then I don’t think we should do it in the shower, baby.” He says before he turns the water off and helps you step out of the shower. He reaches for a couple towels, wrapping you up in one and him in the other as he leads you back to his room. You begin to dry yourself as he goes to double lock the door- you guess that he had been walked in on before. You try not to think too hard about Jace’s love life.

Once you were dried, you didn’t bother getting dressed, you just laid back on Jace’s bed like he instructed you to do. He smirked when he came back and saw you doing what he had asked.

When he was dry, he joined you on the bed. Leaning on top of you as he connects your lips again, his hand coming down to cup your heat.

“You touch yourself, right?” He asks, to which you nod your head. Afraid that opening your mouth will cause you to moan out loudly again, “of course you do,” he smirks, “I’ve heard you late at night. Such a dirty girl… show me.” He whispers, leaning back, his eyes on you.

You try to catch your breath, but it was impossible in this situation. Your right hand moves down your body, reaching where you need him the most. You rubbed your clit with your middle finger in tight circles, small gasps leaving your mouth as Jace just chuckled.

“You can do better than that.” Jace states, and you begin to go faster, feeling as your stomach tightens, you bite down on your free hand to stop the moans and whimpers spilling out, but he moved it, “I need to hear you, love.” He says.

As you were on the edge on another orgasm, Jace takes your hand in his, making you whine beneath him. He just continues to smirk, enjoying the sounds you make for him. Sounds you’ve made only for him.

“Jace,” you whisper, your hand tangling in his damp hair as his mouth comes down to your nipples again, “I need you.”

“Where, darling?”

“Inside me. Need to feel you here.” You say, taking one of his hands and placing it on your belly. It’s as if you flipped a switch, he licks over your hardened bud once more before spreading your legs apart for him as far as they could go, his cock pressing against you as his hand holds your hip.

“You ready?” He asks, his thumb stroking where he held your hip.

“Yes,” you moan, wanting to just take him and shove him inside you already.

You knew it would hurt, the size of him and your experience wouldn’t go well together, but you seemed to forget he was also rather experienced. As he begins to push himself into you, he whispers praises into your ear and he kisses down your neck.

“Taking me so well, good girl. I know you can do it.” He says, your eyes were screwed shut as you ran your fingers through his hair, tugging on it when you were in discomfort. But once he was fully in, he paused for a moment, kissing you on the lips before telling you, “I’ll move when you’re ready, okay? Just let me know when.”

You were so grateful for how caring he had become in this moment, the thought of losing you had made him appreciate you more. He was so careful with you, but once you were both comfortable enough, you wanted that to change.

“You can move.” You whisper into his ear, and he begins to move his hips, thrusting himself in and out of you. Rubbing against your walls deliciously, each time you clenched around him you heard him groan slightly.

As his pace quickened, you let go of his hair and flopped against his mattress, the pleasure becoming overwhelming. You had truly never felt anything like it. The way he angled his hips caused him to brush against the special spot inside of you, causing your vision to blur and your mind to become fuzzy.

“Feels good?” Jace asks, knowing it clearly felt wonderful. “You’re doing so well for me, baby. Taking me so well.”

Just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, you feel a sudden pressure on your lower stomach and you look up to see Jace pressing down with his hand. Each time he thrusted into you, you felt like you were going to explode.

Drunk off the feeling of his cock, you look into his eyes. It was such an innocent thing to do, but the words that were about to leave your mouth were far from it.

“Jace,” you said between breaths, “I need you to cum inside me, please, please, need you to fill me up, all the way…” You trail off as he lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, reaching deeper into you than you thought was possible.

“Look at you beginning for my cum,” he chuckles, his voice dripping in lust, “sweet little whore, wanting me to show her how it feels to get fucked right, now wanting me to fill her up.” His words only made you worse, you couldn’t think straight as you clenched around him even more, “so desperate, aren’t you, darling? But you asked so nicely. Make a mess on my cock for me, and I’ll give you what you want, okay?”

You nod your head, not knowing what you had agreed to exactly, but if Jace was offering something who were you to turn it down?

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.” He says, leaning over you again, his arm beside you, supporting him. You do as you're told, and he spits into your mouth. You hold it there for a moment before swallowing, opening your mouth again to show him you had indeed swallowed it.

Eager to make you finish before him, he pushes himself back up and begins toying with your clit again, knowing how sensitive it had now become, pinching it, rubbing it between his fingers, rubbing it in tight circles, trying to figure out what you like best.

“Jace!” You gasp, “I’m gonna…”

“Do it. Cum around my cock for me, and I’ll give you what you want, darling.” He pants.

And before you know it, your body begins to squirm underneath him as you see white. You can only moan out his name and profanities. Your head was thrown back, your arms coming up lay on the pillows beside you. Jace lifts you by the hips, holding you as close as he possibly can before letting himself go inside of you. He holds you there for a moment whilst he comes undone, as if you’ll disappear if he lets go of you.

“Jace,” you whisper, his body collapsing beside yours.

“Holy shit.” He gasps, he couldn’t believe what had just happened. “Y/n, I love you. I have done since I first met you, I was just… scared. Scared you wouldn’t like me back. I know this is a lot to take in but-”

“I love you too,” you giggle, still coming down from the pure ecstasy he had gave to you, “I… I can’t think straight right now, baby. Let’s talk about it later. Right now I just want to cuddle.” You say, snuggling up to his chest.

“I guess I quite literally fucked your brains out.” Jace said, earning a half-hearted slap on the shoulder from you. “Sorry.” He added, his fingers playing with your damp hair as you fell asleep on his chest.

#jace wayland smut #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell bower smut #jace herondale smut #jamie bower #jace wayland #jamie bower smut #jamie bower x reader

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heresthestorymorningglory · 5 months

Text

Hello Nurse

Summary: When hospitals are a big fat no, you find yourself a nurse friend

A/N: Listen y'all this NSFW 18+ should be par for the course at this point. So like....just don't okay?

As always, the inspo is thanks to the Goosecord and my beautiful partner in crime @ken-dom for keeping me from going completely off the deep end. (I have a Six problem)

This definitely will not be the last you see of him

Enjoy my loves! <3

The incessant pounding only got louder as you cautiously made your way down the dark stairs into the darkened front hall. It was two thirty in the morning, whoever had the gaul to be this insistent had a death wish.

You flipped the light on and yanked the door open, not bothering to check who was on the other side first; in retrospect probably not the smartest idea, but you were too tired and too annoyed to care.

“What?!” you nearly shrieked “Do you have any idea-” you stopped abruptly when you realized who was standing…leaning was probably more accurate, on your front porch.

“Six..” you breathed “Jesus you look like hell”

“I need your help” he strained, pushing himself off the door frame with a grunt just long enough to stumble inside. You were the only one he trusted, the only one he could come to.

You closed the door, turning to look at him in the light. He was covered in dirt, bruises and blood, someone else’s you had hoped, but based on the way he was swaying on his feet just standing in front of you, you wagered not. He was soaked from head to toe.

“What the hell happened?!” you tried to keep your composure, ushering him to the living room and sitting him down on the couch

“Got loud,” he whispered, “Went sideways.” He didn’t want to give you the grisly details, you didn’t need to know although he knew you were smart enough to figure it out on your own.

“Hey,” you snapped your fingers in front of his nose “Eyes open, no sleeping”

Your own sleep forgotten as you flip into nurse mode, digging the first aid kit out of the hall closet and kneeling on the floor in front of the couch.

This wasn’t the first time he had stumbled to your front door battered and bloody; no hospitals, that was his number one rule. Lucky for both of you, you worked in one…

Upon closer inspection, you noticed Six had stab wounds, all over. His arms, his thighs, his shoulders, through his hand.

“Jesus Christ” you breathed realizing this was going to take more than your first aid kit. “I know I asked what the hell happened, but don’t tell me, I don’t want to know.”

You pulled yourself up from the floor and went to find clean towels and washcloths from the bathroom before hanging your robe on the back of the bathroom door and pulling your scrubs from earlier back on. You grabbed your sewing kit and the bottle of bourbon you kept in the kitchen before setting it all down on the coffee table across from the couch.

He watched you flit around the room collecting things and then you disappeared down the hall, and when you came back you were in your nurse’s scrubs. He had never admitted it to anyone, but there was just something about a woman in scrubs that did it for him; hospitals were a hard no, especially in his line of work, but in finding you all those years ago he had lucked out ...but he had never told you either…

It had been almost six months since he’d seen you last, he almost considered not coming at all; he hated just barging into your life, typically in the dead of night and in need of some form of care. You never seemed to mind though, on multiple occasions he had offered apologies for doing exactly what he had tonight and every time you dismissed it with a wave of your hand before sending him on his way with a kiss on the cheek.

He had told you when you had first met that he didn’t do relationships, couldn’t, it was too risky. You had agreed, your schedule at the hospital didn’t allow for much of a personal life regardless but fate had kept putting you in the other’s path consistently since then. He found solace in the fact that no matter the time on the clock, he could show up on your front porch and you would help, no questions, no judgment, no hesitation.

“Clothes off,” you said simply and Six blinked slightly taken aback making you laugh “Unless you want me to sew you into those?”

You stood, pulling out what you needed to patch him up watching him struggle to move. You rounded the coffee table moving to stand in front of him. “Can I help?”

You had known him for years, and patching him up was never a big deal, but you had never seen him this mangled before, usually it was a cracked rib, a broken nose, or a bullet in the shoulder; nothing that required him to strip down to nothing but boxers in your living room in the middle of the night. The thought made your stomach flutter as he nodded silently.

His stomach clenched feeling your warm fingers curl against his sides, sending shooting pains all over, his heart slamming in his chest, he was amazed it had blood to pump still. You were gentle, careful not to touch any of the wounds hidden under the fabric, but he could see the worry in your face slip through your concentration but only briefly.

Six lifted his arms, just high enough as you grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, lifting it gently over his head and tossing it out of the way. Looking down at your hands, they were stained red and you realized what you had initially thought to be water making his shirt damp was actually blood.

You wiped your hands on the front of your scrub top before rinsing them off with the rubbing alcohol from the first aid kit.

He stood just long enough to kick his boots and pants off before flopping heavily back on the couch. You gave him the once over, fingers brushing gently over his shoulder blades as you climbed on the couch to examine his back and sides.

He had to remind himself to breathe properly as the soft material of your scrub top brushed against his bare arm, your breath warm on his shoulder, your fingertips warm on his back as you surveyed his wounds.

“Good news is, most of these I can just Steri-Strip closed” you smiled, using his broad shoulder for leverage to push yourself up off the couch “Your hand needs stitches though”

He nodded just grateful for a place to sit and breathe for a minute; not having to have his guard up or watch his back. This was safe, you were safe.

“Were you shot?” you asked, eyes wandering over his bare chest he noticed as you took his injured hand, wiping it clean as gently as you could manage. You asked the question so cavalierly it almost made him laugh

You looked up at him when he didn’t answer immediately and he quickly dropped his gaze to his lap with a shake of his head “No, just stabbed”

“How many times?” You asked, putting the cloth aside and sanitizing your needle

“A bunch”

You rolled your eyes as you thread your needle before handing him the bottle of bourbon “You know, I have half a mind to make you go to the hospital”

“Guess I’ll just bleed out on your couch then”

"That would be a scarier threat if you didn't make it every time you stumbled through my door"

He liked the rapport he had with you, being able to joke with you made him forget about the pain for a few minutes. Nearly six months had passed and yet, you talked like he had just seen you yesterday.

“Haven’t lost your sense of humor I see” you muttered pulling his hand into the light “How did you manage not to sever something?” you asked, more to yourself than to him; focused on moving his fingers until he winced “Sorry” you smiled apologetically “This isn’t going to be a fun night for you”

He nodded, eyes closed, taking a slow breath as he leaned forward, his head dropping between his knees.

“Still with me?” you asked, hand reaching instinctively to push the hair that had fallen forward back.

He nodded slowly, swallowing hard “Don’t like blood” he said softly, but had been very aware of your fingers pushed through his hair.

You couldn’t help chuckling to yourself with a shake of your head as he sat back up. “I think you got in the wrong line of work to be afraid of blood”

“I’m not afraid of blood,” he pouted and you wondered if he knew “I just don’t like it”

“My mistake” you bit back another small laugh “You just look a little pale, do you want a bucket?”

“Ha ha” he rolled his eyes “Couldn’t possibly be pale from all the blood loss” he quipped

“Nah,” you agreed with a shake of your head “Especially with it gushing out of your hand like that…”

All the colour drained from his face then, your hand immediately snapping across the coffee table, grabbing the empty popcorn bowl you had left there earlier in the evening, sliding it in Six’s lap just in time for him to empty the contents of his stomach.

You opted to grab the trash can from the kitchen where Six threw the bowl out as you slid it next to him.

“You did that on purpose” he glared

“Maybe, wouldn’t have been the first time I’ve caught puke in my hands though”

He frowned “Ew..”

“Just another Thursday” you smiled, a line you frequently traded back and forth “But you’re probably going to get sick again, this is going to hurt”

You sat cross legged on the floor, pulling over a small end table with the reading light tilted so you could see what you were doing.

He sat and watched you examine the damage to his palm absolutely enamored with the way you worked.

“Hand first, then the worst part will be over, okay?”

He didn’t answer, just simply took a deep swig from the bourbon bottle in his good hand. You looked up at him, then set to your task, needle and thread in hand.

First poke through skin and he let out a hard breath through his nose, flinching slightly. You didn’t look up, just held his hand to the table more firmly trying to work as fast as you could manage. “I know it sucks, but you can’t move”

He didn’t answer, just continued to take slow deep breaths through his nose, grunting in pain occasionally as the needle pierced bruised flesh. As you suspected, you got about a quarter of the way through before the pain became too much, even for Six, and you had to stop so he could be sick. The middle section of the wound was the worst, but all he could manage at that point were dry heaves and bile.

“We’re almost done” you reassured him softly, he was sickly white and sweaty, but nodded with his eyes closed, trying to focus on anything but the hot stab of pain in his tendons.

It took longer than he would have liked and his pride was somewhere at the bottom of your kitchen trash can along with his dinner, but he knew you were good at your job, and he only felt like passing out once or twice but had managed to stay awake as you stitched the top of his hand.

His calloused palm was at least easier to handle once you had flipped his hand over, although he was sure, more difficult for you.

He watched intently while you worked, once you were done stitching, you held it open in yours, cleaning the closure and checking your work.

You leaned forward over the small end table, his eyes glancing down the front of your scrub top, you were naked underneath, before diverting his attention elsewhere if only to avoid getting caught.

“Hard part is done” you sat up, again cleaning the blood from your hands and stretching your back from your place on the floor. “The rest will be easy”

You shifted to sit on your feet, knelt in front of him, cleaning the biggest wound on his thigh before closing it with a strip. You couldn’t help chuckling to yourself as you stood up on your knees and he looked at you curiously

“Whoever stabbed you didn’t do a very good job”

This made him snort “I beg to differ”

“Well they’re not very deep” you noted “You’ve had worse”

He nodded, he couldn’t disagree with you there. You pulled yourself to your feet and disappeared into the kitchen coming back with a chair, setting it in front of him “Sit” you pointed “Burlesque”

He scoffed with a laugh “Absolutely not”

You sighed with hands on your hips “If you want me to patch you up and fix the knife block that is your back, sit your ass down”

He got to his feet and did as you asked, straddling the chair resting against the back. “You’re grumpy when you’re tired”

“You should see me when I’m mad” You leaned to whisper in his ear making his body prickle with goosebumps.

“I’ll pass,” he muttered, as you circled back around him; strips and alcohol in hand as his forehead rested on his arms; he was exhausted.

You instinctively reached touching his shoulder gently, hoping to provide some form of comfort.

“When was the last time you slept?” you asked softly, gently washing away the dried blood around the first gash on his shoulder

He groaned, head still resting on his forearms “What day is it?”

You bit your lip, but kept quiet; who were you to judge his sleeping habits when yours weren’t much better?

“Friday morning” you answered and he flinched as you touched the alcohol dampened pad to the cut

His eyes were closed, as he leaned against the back of the chair he straddled; alcohol biting at the first of many fresh cuts as he considered your answer, Friday morning.”Two days ago” he answered, voice amplified in the space between his chest and folded arms.

You didn’t say anything, but your concern for him was becoming more palpable by the minute. He didn’t have to be looking at you to see your face.

He breathed deeply through his nose, it hurt less somehow than through his mouth; focusing his attention on your soft touches, everything stung or throbbed or pounded except for you, your touch was soft; he wondered if you had realized you had started humming. He didn’t recognize the tune, assuming it had been one at all, but it soothed him and he felt his muscles finally start to relax.

You watched his shoulders drop, finally releasing the tension across his back that had been there since he stumbled through the door a few hours ago. You wondered if he had drifted off to sleep as you closed the last cut on his lower back before kneeling next to the chair to do the ones along his ribcage.

You didn’t want to disturb him, but were surprised to see his eyes open, studying the floor before he glanced over where you knelt. You didn’t say anything, just offered a smile, adding another dirtied pad to the pile that had accumulated on the coffee table.

You had turned back to your task at hand, but could still feel his eyes watching you; studying your movements as you closed up another cut.

Feeling his eyes on you stirred the heat in your core; you ran your tongue between your lips, you had to focus, focus on what you were doing. You closed the last gash on that side of his ribcage and moved to the other side, careful to avoid eye contact; somehow you felt like he knew, like he could read your mind, see your thoughts like a little movie projected on your forehead, exposing you and your true feelings.

Six was an attractive man, you would have to be blind not to see that, but this wasn’t supposed to be like that; you were supposed to keep it professional, do your job; at least that was the silent agreement you had made with yourself. He didn’t have girlfriends, didn’t do relationships, you reminded yourself; today he was here, tomorrow he could be dead. And a relationship with your work schedule? Please.

Who said anything about a relationship? The little voice in the back of your mind whispered Maybe it’s just some casual sex

You tried pushing the thought to the back of your mind and failed miserably.

Just let him bend you over the arm of the couch and-

“Hey, I think I have enough holes, don’t you?”

His voice snapped you out of your head and you realized you had unintentionally buried your nails into his side leaving behind little crescent welts.

“Sorry hon” you let out a slow breath collecting yourself and cleaning the next cut

The new stinging sensation of your nails digging into his skin had snapped him out of his own fantasy; a fantasy that made his cock twitch between his legs as he straddled your kitchen chair, as you knelt a mere foot away.

He turned his head away from you, stretching his arms out over the back of the chair in front of him, biting into his bicep, squeezing his eyes shut.

Usually he could control himself, keep his intrusive thoughts about you at bay until you had finished fixing him up; usually.

Tonight, it was like you were personally torturing him; like Lloyd Hansen had taught you himself.

First you had changed in to scrubs, turning yourself into his personal nurse, stoking that fantasy that he usually lived out on his own where you were in his imagination, not where he could feel your fingertips in real time, couldn’t feel your steady breathing in and out against his skin as you focused on cleaning out the next stab wound.

Then he had stripped down to barely nothing, the logical part of his brain knew this made sense, the part of his brain driven by lust was screaming at him to just take you, here and now, on the coffee table, on the floor it really didn’t fucking matter. There’s no way you weren’t going to notice if you carried on much longer…boxers didn’t do much for concealment.

“Hey,” he looked up, feeling your hand push through his unkempt hair “You okay?”

You were standing now, he hadn’t even heard you get up but he nodded. “Are you done?”

You scoffed with a laugh “Sweetie, somebody turned you into a human pin cushion and they did a really bad job about it. “I’m trying to keep you from turning into a walking infection”

“And is it working?” his voice was hoarse with exhaustion and he could tell you were tired too, but you just offered him a smile, your beautiful smile

“It will once you turn around so I can finish the front”

His heart skipped a beat and he immediately shook his head “You’ve done enough, I can do the rest”

You cocked your head to the side with a raised eyebrow, one had on your hip “Can you?” you asked, feigning surprise

“Yes,” he mocked sitting up a little straighter

“Really?” you asked sarcastically, shifting on your bare feet. “Lift your arms above your head”

Any hint of humor had dropped from his features “What?”

“Do it,” you coaxed “If you can lift your arms over your head for thirty seconds, I’ll let you finish yourself”

“I’m not-”

That had backfired spectacularly and he knew you knew it. “I don’t-” he started and you immediately interrupted.

“I swear to god, Six” you rolled your eyes “If the next words out of your mouth aren’t ‘I’d be happy too’ I’m pulling all those strips off and I will let you bleed out on my living room floor”

“And undo all your handy work?” he muttered before pulling himself up and turning to sit in the chair properly. He would just have to deal with the consequences if you did notice. Maybe you wouldn’t say anything at all; you had tact; he could hope.

“Good boy”

He couldn’t see you but he could hear the smile in your voice. You came around the back of the chair and knelt in front of him; his knees practically touching his legs were closed so tight. From his vantage point he didn’t even have to try to see down the v of your scrub top, streaks of dried blood, his dried blood down the front of your chest where you had either brushed against him or accidently wiped your dirty hands

“What do I look like, a paper doll?” you asked, your eyes meeting his, before your hands pushed his knees apart so you could scoot closer.

He closed his eyes, trying to will any semblance of his arousal away; he thanked the powers that be that he had only had a couple gashes on his chest.

He looked down, watching your hands move over his scarred flesh.

“It’s creepy when you do that” you spoke quietly, sealing the first cut closed before you looked up

He had been close enough for your noses to almost touch; your heart slammed in your chest under his blue eyed scrutiny; he was unreadable. Part of his training at some point you assumed, never crack, never show emotion.

He cleared his throat breaking eye contact before he apologized

“It’s fine, but last time I was watched that closely I was being graded”

“And did you pass?” He asked fingers flexing against his thighs as he kept a flinch at bay; he thought by now he’d be used to the sting, but apparently not.

“Eh,” you shrugged “I got by…stitched a guys fingers together once”

He could see the smile playing on your lips as you looked up at him from under your lashes.

“You’re lying” he laughed a little, but stopped almost as quickly, it hurt his ribs

“Am I?” you smiled “You’ve never seen me in a hospital, I just told you I was a nurse, maybe I lied”

His eyes narrowed slightly and he tipped his head, amused.

“Maybe I’m just some unhinged woman who has a care fetish”

“How very Annie Wilkes of you” he mused

“My sledgehammer is in the basement” you smirked “And Annie didn’t have a care fetish, she was just obsessed with the guy”

“You saying you're obsessed with me?”

You shrugged “You’re a hot mysterious man who just keeps coming back to me, you make it so easy”

You bit the inside of your cheek when you realized what you had said;out loud. The words just hung between you in the air before you cleared your throat and shook your head changing the subject.

You mentally kicked yourself for letting something so stupid slip out.

“I’ll tell you one thing, you’ve got somebody looking out for you; this many stab wounds and not one of them anything life threatening.” you paused for a beat “Twenty six, by the way; I counted, in case you wanted to break a record when you come back”

You got up on your knees, pulling his face closer to examine the cut on his forehead above his eye. “Now I know that’s not a stab”

“Fell out a window” he spoke, and the words sounded muffled in his own ears as your hands cupped his face for a moment longer before you busied them again.

He hadn’t missed the hard line you pressed your lips into as you put what was seemingly an endless supply of alcohol onto a new cotton pad.

You watched his eyes flicker from your lap watching your wrist as you reached to dab the cut on his forehead.

He jumped pulling back with a sharp hiss through his teeth “Ow”

You dropped your shoulders with a sigh, shifting yourself closer, touching the cut again. Again, he hissed with pain “Ow”

You rolled your eyes “Oh ow, you big baby,” You took his face in your hands, pulling him closer blowing gently. “I’ve never met someone who can manage two dozen stab wounds and not a scrape”

You leaned back slightly, still holding his face “Better?”

He didn’t answer, you noticed he wasn’t looking into your eyes this time, he was watching your lips. You ran your tongue between them before you bit down on your bottom lip, pulling it against your teeth.

The impressive hard on tenting his boxers caught your attention and you pressed your lips together.

God he wanted nothing more than to kiss you right now; he wasn’t tired anymore, or at least he hadn’t felt tired at the current moment.

“Court…” you whispered and the name sounded foreign to his ears, but it was enough for him to look up, your cheeks were flushed; the same burn of desire he felt in the pit of his stomach was reflected in your eyes and something inside him snapped then.

He stood from the chair, pulling you to your feet in one swift movement and with two large strides, you were pinned against the wall, your scrub top being pulled over your head and unceremoniously tossed to the floor before his lips moved against yours, hungry and unrelenting.

Your brain finally able to process that you weren’t on your knees in front of him anymore, you returned his kiss with your own frantic need, quite certain you would wake up at any second like any other time.

His hands made quick work of the scrub pants you had still been wearing followed soon after by his own boxers.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, his tongue pushing past your lips, exploring every inch of your mouth. A strong hand on your thigh, lifting your leg to wrap around his waist as he ground his hips against yours; his hard cock unmistakable.

He broke your kiss, both of you panting heavily as you leaned your head back against the wall, his mouth sucking harshly on your neck as he dropped his head into your shoulder.

Your chest heaved as your head swam trying to get your bearings. You curled your fingers against his broad shoulder blades and he growled, actually growled against your neck, making you shiver; a shaky moan tumbling from your lips.

This wasn’t a dream, not this time, this was real.

“Jesus Christ,” you panted, swallowing hard

He pulled back to look at you, lips red and swollen, panting just as hard. “What?”

“You…I-” you stammered trying to form the words “We’re gonna-” you panted with a laugh “We’re gonna fuck aren’t we?” Not being able to think of a less crude way of putting it in the moment.

He laughed as much his injuries would allow, pushing his hair back out of his face “Well, not if you don’t want-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence” you breathed, cutting him off with a bruising kiss; taking all your strength to push yourself and him off the wall.

He guided your other leg around his waist as he stumbled backwards, adjusting to the weight, narrowly missing the coffee table as he landed hard on the couch, his heel digging into the wood floor as the couch tipped backwards, on two legs before crashing back down on all four.

You pulled back, breathing hard toward the ceiling as he left harsh bites down the length of your neck.

“Up-” you panted, hips grinding against his “Upstairs”

You wrapped yourself around him tightly, burying your face in his neck as his hands slid up your bare back, before wrapping around your middle as he heaved himself back up to his feet. He rounded the corner, groaning as your teeth sank into the tender flesh of his collarbone.

He clamored halfway up the small flight before he stopped, sinking to his knees, mouth and hands devouring every inch of you he could touch; you spread your legs to accommodate his massive frame before he thrust hard, burying himself inside you to the hilt. You arched off the staircase, your moan of pleasure echoing off the walls around you.

He thrust harder, moaning into your shoulder as he braced himself on the step, giving himself leverage as you tangled one hand is his hair, the other wrapping around his waist, your fingers careful to avoid cuts, as his back muscles flexed with the effort; Your feet had no chance of finding purchase on the staircase; your entire body jerking with the power behind each one of his thrusts. You gasped letting his body swallow you whole; desperate, needy, pathetic moans tumbling from your own lips. His grunts of effort and moans only edging you on.

“Oh god…” your whole body shuddered as you felt your orgasm creep closer “Don’t…stop” you paused trying to catch your breath “Court p-please d-don’t”

“Again,” his voice was hoarse, his breath hot against your ear “Say it, again” he panted and you melted into the stairs

“C-Court” your voice broke with effort as you couldn’t keep your orgasm at bay any longer. You clung to him as if your life had depended on it.

He kissed you needy, desperate and passionate; spilling inside you with a deep moan that got lost in your kiss. No one had ever called him by his name, not anymore, but you; you were special; and now, you were his.

You collapsed on the stairs, lungs burning with the effort it was taking just simply to breathe; shaky and shallow. Six leaned over you, catching this breath, sticky with sweat. Forehead resting against yours, arms quivering holding up his own weight. He leaned forward, kissing you gently, a stark contrast to moments ago.

He leaned back, blue eyes searching your face before he spoke “This can’t-we can’t-”

“Shh” you whispered, leaning up to kiss his forehead as you pushed his matted hair back before your hand came to rest on his shoulder “Don’t worry about it”

“But-” He sat up, allowing you room to do the same.

You shook your head pressing your fingers to his lips “Let’s just go to bed” you whispered as he pulled you to your feet.

You turned on the narrow staircase, threading your fingers through his as you pulled him behind you to your bedroom; your queen size bed had never looked so small; you could see the sun starting to peek through the drawn curtains as you climbed under the covers and he slid in behind you. His chest warm against your bare back as his arms wrapped around you.

He let out a heavy sigh; this wasn’t supposed to have happened; not like this, not ever. He squeezed you gently, breathing in your scent. His eyes heavy as he started to drift off, finally able to sleep. Nothing was ever going to happen to you, he would make damn sure of that; he would keep you safe, and kill anyone who even thought to try to jeopardize that.

#fic #six x reader #sierra six #ryan gosling #n sfw #hellllooo nurse

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sabo-has-my-heart · 4 months

Note

It's two part again. Happy thanksgiving!

Dang, moving is always such a hassle :') I wish things go well for you. *sends love*

It's been a while so I can't really give a detailed story, but to sum up, this is what I literally dreamt of. Y/N works as an Oiran in a busy district in Wano, and Ace once visited it when he was still in the Spade pirates. They had an intense night, and Ace could not forgot the sensation and basically fell in love at first sight. He saved up money to buy Y/N out (not really buying a slave but actually freeing Y/N from the place) However, when he came back for Y/N, he was told that they escaped and the place no longer know Y/N's location.

Ace was disappointed, but that was a story in the past, Ace is now part of the WB pirates. He was secretly still searching for Y/N, though. Then, he recognized a familiar face among one of the member in the nurse crew of WB pirates ship. It was Y/N. The man was over the moon, until he realized, he couldn't possibly come to her and start a conversation with "Have we met? I think I've had s3x with you before". It turned into a cute story between Ace who is now very awkward but is trying his best to start a conversation with the person of his dream. And Y/N who is obvious. Until Y/N finally recognized Ace, and started teasing/flirting him which end up with another heated night for the two of them.

It's a miracle how I can dream of Ace lol, but it was a third person view point dream so I couldn't enjoy much either. It's not the first time I have a weird dream though, for some reasons I keep dreaming of a strange blonde who I have established a romantic relationship with. Well that's way too off topic, I only want to share my ideas with you for fun. I do hope that you prioritize your personal stuff before starting to write again (even tho I miss your write, a lots :'))

Aight that's it for now. Have a great day, have a great thanksgiving week. Best wishes.

- two part

TWO PART ANON! I had a pretty boring Thanksgiving, our oven was broken so we weren't really able to do anything special, that's okay though. Plus I had covid. I'm... mostly better now, still have a cough, but I'm covid negative and raring to go once more! Here's, lol, PART 1!!! All the smut will be in part 2, I hope you enjoy it!

Part 2, Part 3

Warnings: mentions of previous sex, no actual sex yet though (that’s for part 2)

Word Count: 1680

It felt like it had been an eternity ago since he’d last seen you. In truth, it had only been a couple of years, but with how his heart yearned for you, it felt like longer. Ace hadn’t been one to believe in fairytales, no ‘happily ever after’, no ‘peasant becomes the prince/princess’, and no ‘love at first sight’. At least, not until he’d met you. A courtesan in Wano, no, an Oiran, on par with the greatest of them, with even the great Komurasaki. The first time he had laid eyes on you, he knew he needed to talk to you, the first time he heard your voice, he knew he needed to spend the night with you, and from the first night with you, knew that he needed you in his life. Not just for one night, but for all of them, forever. A passionate night, more passionate than any you had previously known, more loving and caring. One where he couldn’t stop every desire from pouring out of his mouth. His desires for you, to have you, to be with you; and the shocking part, the part that made his heart stop, that shook him to his core, was when you reciprocated it. When you told him you wanted him in your life too. You shared things you’d never told anybody else, told him your past, your desires, and your dreams, and he knew that he’d do anything to make sure you saw them realized. A promise, one to find enough treasure to ‘buy’ you. To pay your debt to the man who held your fate, to take you away from such a life. But he’d been too late, you couldn’t take it after that night with him.

Pretending that you enjoyed the company of other men, giggling at dumb jokes and ‘enjoying’ fine food and drink sitting next to men who weren’t Ace. It didn’t matter how rich or good looking they were, you only wanted Ace. So you ran away. In the dead of the night, you gathered all your most precious belongings, every cent you could carry, everything of worth, and disappeared into the night. When Ace had asked about you, stating that he wanted to pay your debt, to ‘buy’ you, the man had merely scoffed, saying that you had run and despite his best efforts, he hadn’t found you, that you still owed him so much money. Ace had paid your debt to the man, whether or not you were there. Should the man ever stumble across you again, you could still be free. Eventually, he’d learned that you’d escaped Wano, somehow managing to break the biggest law of the strange land and escaping to sea.

From that day, he searched for you. He never told anybody, never said a word, made it seem like he was simply living his life, but any time he was at an island, his eyes were searching the crowds for your familiar form. The man was certain he could never forget the shape of your body, the color of your hair, or your scent; not the scent of the perfume that you had been forced to wear as an oiran, but your natural scent lingering just beneath that. Every detail was carved into the backs of his eyelids, teasing him each time he closed his eyes with your beautiful smile. Your real smile. Not the one you had given him upon first being introduced to that night’s company, but the smile you gave him the next morning as you placed a soft kiss to his lips. Only a few people knew of his secret, of his love. Deuce, his first mate, his friend, his second-in-command. Whitebeard, his captain, his adopted father, the man who accepted him for him. And Izou, the Wano man had been by accident. He’d wanted to learn how to make your favorite so that if he ever found you, he could make it for you. Except the man wasn’t dumb, he noticed the concentration on Ace’s face as he worked to perfect the food, noticed the soft smile when Ace thought about when he’d first tried the food, saw the pain when asked about why it was so important. He’d confronted Ace about it, smiling as he listened to Ace’s tale about the beautiful oiran who’d stolen his heart. Izou kept an eye out for any Wanoan women after that, he never said anything, but as a favor to his friend, fellow commander, and brother-in-arms, he always kept an eye out as well.

Sighing, Ace leaned back in his chair, taking a large gulp from his mug. Pops was docked at another island to restock, giving his men shore leave once they were properly restocked, allowing his sons to enjoy themselves, whether it be in food, drink, or women. Women, ha! No woman would ever compare to you, to the beautiful tennyo who’d stolen his heart. He chuckled to himself at the thought, tennyo, so many things you’d taught him in his short time with you. He missed you so much right now, missed the strange terms of endearment you used for him, so strange to him, but never failed to make his heart skip a beat.

Ace’s brow furrowed as he took his feet off the table to sit up straight. His ears strained to catch the voice that had caught his attention just a moment ago. The accent, the lilt, it rang so familiarly in his head. Looking around, he only saw the familiar faces, tattoos, and clothing of the crew. His division knocking back drinks as they laughed, a few Whitebeard nurses dispersed amongst them. Still, his eyes scanned the crowd frantically, searching for the familiar face that filled his dreams. Finally, it landed on one of the nurses. Ace didn’t know all of the nurses that tended to Pops, the man’s deteriorating health requiring near constant care. Yet this one, he was certain, or almost certain.

Swallowing hard, he mentally shouted for the nurse to turn around fully, to give him a proper view of her, rather than just the small glances at her. Finally, she turned, looking to one of the other nurses, stopping Ace’s heart. Your hair was different and the layers of make-up were gone and the kimono replaced with a pink dress, but he was sure it was you. The young man almost shot up in his seat, wanting to run over to you and pull you close, to bury his head into the crook of your neck, hesitating when a thought hit him. Would you even recognize him? You might be forever engraved in his mind, but was he similarly engraved in yours? It had been a few years ago and it had only been a couple of nights together. Did he mean as much to you and you had meant to him? How would he even talk to you, how would he strike a conversation? ‘Hey, this sounds crazy, but I spent a passionate night with you a few years ago. Wanna go have dinner with me?’ No, absolutely not! He’d sound deranged! There was no way you’d recognize him after all this time. You’d been an oiran, he was probably just another paying man spending a night with you, getting too caught up in your act. To you, he must have just been an overly passionate man who was drawn into the fake little world you created for all your customers. Slouching into his chair, he stared at you in longing, he wanted so badly to go over to you, to pick you up and spin you around, to pull you into the most mind blowing kiss, but he couldn’t risk freaking you out.

You’d heard tales of the new second division commander, but had yet to find the time to go see him yourself. Whitebeard’s health took priority and the other nurses had come to rely on you a great deal, leaving you with little time to yourself. On top of your work as a nurse, you were kept busy with a million other things. The young man from years prior always lingered in your mind, his smile like the sun seared into your mind, as if forever branding your mind, heart, and soul as his. Freckles that dotted his cheeks like the stars in the sky, making you think of him every night when you stared up at the twinkling lights, he burned so brightly, as if he were made of sunshine and stardust. During the few daylight hours in which you weren’t caring for Whitebeard, your thoughts were taken up by this man. His voice and name still rang in your ears late at night when things were quiet and still. Ace. Portgas D. Ace. Still, you were on shore leave and the other nurses, as thanks for always taking their shifts, had given you the night off, you’d earned it. So you’d come here, hearing that the second division, and its commander, was here. So far, you’d yet to spot the young man who’d caused such a stir. Talking with one of the second division men, a flit of bright orange caught your eye. Turning, you noticed a familiar orange hat being pressed down on a lowered head before the owner stood up to head out of the bar.

“Who’s that?” You asked, pointing to the young man who’s back was turned to you. Despite the tattoo that covered a good portion of his back, you were almost certain you recognized his form. How could you forget that physique, the back that had sported the evidence of your night together in the form of long red scratches, the shoulders that you’d held so tightly, as if your life depended on it.

“Hm? Oh, right! You haven’t met the new division commander have you? That’s him, FireFist Ace! Kid’s crazy, but he’s strong.” the man you’d been talking to said with a grin, proud of his new commander. You smiled as you watched him leave, Ace, you’d finally found him.

#one piece #one piece ace #portgas d ace #ace portgas #fire fist ace #second division commander ace #op ace #ace x fem reader #ace x reader #fire fist ace fluff #fire fist ace x reader #second division commander ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader

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fayes-fics · 10 months

Text

It Had To Be You: Chapter 4 - You've Got A Friend

Masterpost PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU

Summary: Set a couple of months after Chapter 3, Benedict and you are becoming best friends.

artwork credit @colettebronte

Warnings: discussions of sex, swearing, publically faked orgasm

Word Count: 3.1k

Authors Note: Unbetaed. A multi-chapter modern rom-com retelling of When Harry Met Sally. In this chapter, we see vignettes of Benedict and reader's growing friendship. And well... this ends with a twist on the famous scene. Yep. You know the one. Enjoy <3

21 months ago (3 months later)

Benedict Bridgerton is one of your best friends.

If you had uttered that sentence to yourself ten, even five, years ago, you would have laughed your head off. But it's funny how life turns out. In the months after you reconnect, you start to meet up regularly, at least once a week, sometimes more, and you text almost constantly. Becoming each other’s crutch as you rebuild your lives as single people.

On the surface, you couldn’t be more opposites, but he’s matured, and you find his company the most soothing and the most fun. Be it while having dim sum in Chinatown, wandering Victoria Park or helping him set up his new warehouse flat. There's always a tiny frisson, an undercurrent of something between you that, to be honest, makes it more appealing. A pilot light of heat that could, maybe one day, become a bonfire if the timing were right. You are not sure it ever would be, but it would be stupid to deny to yourself that it's there. There is certainly no one you like to verbally spar with more.

He FaceTimes you as you lay in bed on a regular Tuesday in September; it's become a habit. Just jabbering away until one of you falls asleep. Talking about everything, anything, and something nothing, watching a show or film together in digital silence. A comforting presence.

“What are you watching?” he hums, scratching his beard.

“Don't judge me,” is your instant response, and he chuckles.

“Tell me,” his voice drops an octave in a way you are sure he knows has an effect on you. Physically. A little shiver down your spine. Bastard.

“Titanic,” you mutter as he bursts out laughing.

“You hate that film!” he exclaims, and you wish you could throw a pillow through the screen.

“That doesn’t sound like not judging!” you bemoan but concede he is right.

“Channel?” he asks, still giggling.

“Four… wait, are you going to watch too?”

“Of course, then we can argue about it in real-time,” something in that offer makes you feel comforted. “It's near the end!” he decries after briefly pausing to change channels.

“How would you know?” you lobby, and he fixes you with a pointed stare.

“Please. This was Gen’s favourite; I had to sit through it five bloody times.”

“How is she?”

“No idea. She didn't speak to me after the breakup. Besides, wasn't she your friend?!”

“Yeah, but we lost touch,” you sigh, “sometime about seven or eight years ago, she moved to Bristol, and then we sort of drifted.”

He hums noncommittally, watching the movie, “So you’re saying Rose should not have saved him by sharing that door,” he states as the final scenes unfold onscreen before you both.

“I never said that!” you argue.

“Yes, you did! In the car on the way from uni!” he smirks.

“No, I didn’t!” you volley back indignantly.

“Fine, okay, you didn’t.” He rolls his eyes.

“I mean, that dick was so good, they fucked one time, and she returned to the ocean to say goodbye to it 70 years later,” you point out drolly.

He tosses his head back and laughs so hard you can’t help but join in.

“Fuck that’s the funniest take on this film I’ve ever heard,” he wheezes.

“Right?! I can’t take credit; it's a comedy routine; I’ll send you a Spotify link,” you offer.

“Look forward to it,” he giggles.

The urge to ask him if he’s ever had sex so good he’d go to the spot it happened to commemorate it is on the tip of your tongue. You’re almost surprised he doesn’t use the opportunity himself. He’s definitely grown up.

“Are you sleeping okay?” he asks, rubbing his eye wearily.

“Doing better,” you admit, “not completely there, but better than I was.”

“Do you still sleep on ‘your’ side of the bed?” he inquires with air quotes.

“No. I’ve taken to sleeping wherever now,” you answer truthfully.

“Wow, you’re doing so well,” he sighs. “I feel weird if even a leg wanders over to ‘her’ side… and this isn’t even a bed we shared.”

“Yours was a marriage, mine merely a long-term relationship,” you try to justify why he might still be more impacted than you.

“Same difference, except you don’t have a lawyer bleeding you dry arguing about shit…. Urghh, I need a drink.”

“No, you don’t,” you argue, “stay in bed and drink your water.”

“You can be very bossy sometimes, you know?” he opines but reaches for his glass of water on his bedside table as he says it, doing exactly what you suggest.

“It’s for your own good,” you point out.

“I know, I know. I suppose I should thank you. You’d be surprised how little men give a shit about their friends' well-being, even their best friends.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” you fire back. “You’re all clueless idiots with the EQ of a shrimp.”

“Wowwww, okay,” he mimes being shot in the chest, “please don’t take out your Dr Tom issues on the rest of us unsuspecting shrimps.” It’s in jest, but you can hear the underlying argument and know he’s right.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. You don’t have the EQ of a shrimp. I’ll give you, hmmm, a crawfish,” you offer with a giggle.

“Oh great, thanks,” he deadpans, “Could you not at least give me lobster?”

“Okay, fine. I hear lobsters are very smart, so you flatter yourself there, but yes, okay, lobster Ben. Please go get some sleep.”

“Alright,” he yawns, “can I call you my lobster too?”

“Why?” you frown sleepily, bemused.

“Some lobster thought it could predict the World Cup winning team—always thought it was right. That’s very you,” he stares pointedly down the phone camera at you.

“Fine, I’m your lobster too,” you stick out your tongue a little.

He chuckles as you settle deeper into your pillow, flicking off the TV as the credits scroll. Even you can acknowledge having a person to talk to is so comforting right before sleep.

“Goodnight, lobster Ben,” you yawn, your eyes drooping.

“Goodnight, my little blue lobster,” he murmurs.

“Why blue? Cos I’m sad?” you hum, eyes closed.

“No,” he chuckles gently, “I have my reasons,” he says quietly, and you pass out as the call drops off.

——

“So I had that dream again,” you mention offhand as you wander down the Southbank from Waterloo a few weeks later. It’s a crisp October day; you’ve taken the afternoon off work to visit the Tate Modern—there’s some exhibit he wants to see.

“The sex dream?” he verifies, weaving around an old lady who shoots him a disapproving look.

“Yup,” you confirm, kicking through the colourful pile of leaves under one of the trees. “So we are going at it up on this roof terrace, and this time he flies away just before I orgasm. I mean, what the fuck is that!?”

“Let me get this straight: you’re having sex with some mythical half-man half-dragon creature?” he seems completely bamboozled by the idea. “And just before you can come, he flies off?”

“Yeah. What do you think it means?” you ponder.

“I think it means you need to get laid,” he laughs.

“Great fucking insight Sherlock Holmes,” body-checking him with your shoulder. “What about you? What’s your latest sex dream?”

“It’s always the same one. There’s this woman. She walks in, just wordlessly strips off my jeans and climbs onboard,” his cheeks have a high dot of pink that looks adorable, almost as if he’s embarrassed to say it.

“What does she look like? Are we talking Halle Berry? Helen Mirren? Florence Pugh?”

“I dunno… she’s just sort of faceless,” he gestures vaguely.

“Hmmm. Unusual. So then what happens?”

“I always wake up,” he sighs, staring into the middle distance, over to the Millennium Bridge.

“Wait….,” you stop walking and grab his arm, “...a faceless woman strips off your jeans and sits on you, and that’s the only sex dream you’ve had… ever?!” You can scarcely believe it.

“Yeah, it’s ridiculous, I know. I’d like to state for the record that I’ve had a much more varied actual sex life. And daydreams? Top fucking notch. But my unconscious, sleeping dreams? Very not sexy or just this one recurring one.”

“Does it ever change? At all?”

“I mean, sometimes I’m wearing trousers, not jeans?” he offers, looking nonplussed as to what else to add.

You cannot think of anything to say to that, so you just shoot him an exasperated look and walk away towards the entrance. How on earth can he get to sleep at night if that’s all he’s got to look forward to?

“Dinner after this?” he offers as you stare up at the giant sculpture suspended in the main Turbine Hall. It's been a fun few hours of wandering the exhibits.

“Oh, I’d love to, but I can’t,” you obfuscate, feeling sheepish as you bring your gaze to him.

“Hooking up?” he inquires with a comedy eyebrow wiggle.

“Maybe,” you deflect, tucking your hair behind an ear, somehow bashful to talk with him about your first date in six years. “I’ll have to see how the date goes first.”

“A date? That’s wonderful!” He seems genuinely enthused, a big smile claiming his whole face.

“Yeah, I mean… I hope so? Let’s see. It’s been a bloody long time,” and saying that, nerves flare in your belly. “Not sure what I should wear, to be honest,” you admit, glancing down, self-conscious of your jeans and simple black top. “You think this is okay?”

“Of course it is,” he dismisses casually. “You look as beautiful as you always do,” the compliment just falls from his lips as if you asked about the weather. It still gives you that slightly gooey sensation under your ribs. Bastard.

——

The next evening you’re three cocktails down at Bar Americain on a night out with some work friends when your phone buzzes.

BB: How was the date?

Y/N: He cried about his custody arrangement at the table.

BB: Divorced dad, eh? How fast did you scarper?!

BB: Guess it will be a while until you can get that orgasm, lol.

Y/N: ... I err, didn't?

Y/N: Oh, I got one.

BB: You slept with him?!?

You always love to push it with him when you are tipsy, be a little daring with what you say. So you have your tongue in your cheek, wishing you could see his face when he reads what you are about to reply.

Y/N: Yeah, I mean, to be clear, the crying didn't turn me on. Not one of my kinks. But he had these nice hands, and I could tell from his jeans something good was going on down there. I was right. 8 out of 10, very nice.

Y/N: And he didn't grow wings to fly off before I had an orgasm, either… so win!

BB: How does one hang up on a text….?

Y/N: 😜

Five minutes later, your phone buzzes again.

BB: Wait. Do all women rate the dicks of the men they sleep with?

Y/N: I don't know all the women in the world, Ben…

BB: How is that an answer?

Y/N: 🤷‍♀️

“Ant…” Benedict calls, tossing his phone aside on his kitchen island and going to consult his brother across the room. He’s pretty sure that can't be all women, can it?

——

“I don't understand this at all,” Kate frowns, resting her weapon on her shoulder like a lumberjack.

“What don’t you understand?” you reply, staring at the target at the other end of the cage. You've decided this is an excellent cathartic way to do girls' night—just flinging axes at Whistle Punks after a hard work day in early November.

“You think he's attractive?” she pauses to applaud your throw as it smacks just below the bullseye.

“Yup.”

“You get on really well and Facetime and text every day?”

“Yup.”

“He’s straight?”

“Yup.”

“But you’re NOT fucking?” Kate quizzes, shooting you a look as she steps up to the plate.

“Nope.”

“I literally don't understand,” brow creasing as she takes her aim.

“Why can't you be proud of me? Not just crawling into bed with him on the rebound. He’s become a really close friend. Plus, I get the straight man’s perspective on things. It's really helpful now that I’m back on the market again. I can talk to him about sex stuff, and he's honest,” you argue.

“Sounds wrong to me…”

“Kate, you are fucking a married man,” you point out her hypocrisy archly.

“Yeah… and that's the point! I'm actually fucking him. What sort of Bert and Ernie shit do you and this Ben have going on?!”

“Please. Bert and Ernie are lovers,” you answer scornfully.

“Well, if they were, all the more reason you guys should be?!” she practically yells, hurling her axe with such gusto the manager comes to check on you.

——

Benedict takes you for dinner in the run-up to Christmas at some place so trendy it doesn't even appear to have a name. It's also where something transpires that haunts your spicier dreams for weeks.

As usual, it starts with you both squabbling.

“Oh please, women fake them all the time,” you dismiss, stirring your soup.

“I don't doubt it,” he agrees, “but men can do it too.”

You shoot him a withering look. “Please. Half of men can't even fake enthusiasm; there's no way a man could fake an orgasm,” you argue with finality.

His eyebrows shoot up briefly as you take a triumphant sip. He puts his fork down and wipes his face with a napkin. Then he makes a low rumbling noise. Perhaps the food doesn't agree with him. When he does it again a second later, you get concerned.

“You okay?”

He doesn't answer; he just makes the noise again. It's a low growl that almost reverberates around in his chest cavity, and something about it makes every hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

“Is your food bad?” you ask, a frown flitting over your face.

Again no answer. Benedict just makes another noise, louder this time. It’s definitely closer to a moan, and he takes a deep breath rolling his head to one side as if he's stretching his neck and really enjoying the sensation. Somehow you can't look away; you just stare at him, spoon in hand. Wondering what the hell he is doing, but captivated at the same time.

“Mmmm, that's it, baby,” he groans, and your insides are suddenly aflame. You've never heard his voice go into that register, it's low and throaty, and you feel a flush creeping up your chest.

“Don't stop,” he moans and throws his head back with a gasp, his Adam’s Apple bobbing hard, and it's then you realise what he is doing. He is faking an orgasm. Right here. In public. In a bloody restaurant.

“Okay, Ben,” you hiss, “fine, you win the argument,” attempting to get him to stop.

But it doesn't work. His head tips back down, and two dilated pupils bore into yours, a hazy ring of blue around black.

“Do you like that?” He’s staring you down as he says it, panting slightly, his jaw firm, challenging, goading.

You want to crawl into a ball and disappear. How much of that is because your fellow diners are starting to look over versus how much your body is rioting is undetermined.

“Yesssss,” he hisses, closing his eyes and biting his lip.

“Ben,” you warn, but again it falls on deaf ears. There is nothing you can do to stop this. Mortification routes you to the spot—that and the pounding in your ears and the little frisson of static running down your spine.

“You feel so good, baby,” he groans with a tiny tilt of his body; it's enough to make your imagination run wild—places it shouldn't. Dear god, this isn't right. He is your friend, one of your best friends; you can't be thinking such things.

To distract yourself, you look around at your fellow diners apologetically, shrugging as if you don't understand what he is doing. Thankful there are no kids in sight.

“Look at me,” he commands gruffly, and without thought, you obey; your eyes tear back to his. He is doing this deliberately, goading a response from you, from your body. And something in your snaps, you won't let him win like this.

“Go ahead, do it,” you mutter through slightly clenched teeth, so quiet only he can hear it. If he is going to do this, damn him, let him.

His hands wrap around the edges of the small table separating you, long fingers splaying out, and then his short blunt nails scratch down the wood. You don't think about those big, shapely hands doing the same thing on your body, no, definitely not. He is groaning and panting hard now, and it's utterly convincing. You can just picture him on top of….. STOP IT! You screech your mind to a halt. Don't go there.

“Come with me,” he snarls softly, just for you, and part of you wants to whisper back: yes, please, but instead, you bite the corner of your tongue to prevent a sound from escaping.

Then he turns theatrical, open hands thumping the table, grunting hard and rhythmically, and you just have to sit there and take it, so to speak. Just endure this weird mix of utter embarrassment and confusing arousal. Knowing you are flushed from head to toe. You daren't look around at the rest of the place, the buzz of conversation mostly dying out as they watch this formidable reenactment.

“Yessss, yesss, yessss,” he chants, and with a few convulsive body jerks and a long groan, his head lolls back, and he exhales a ragged breath loudly.

There are a few seconds of silence, and then he clears his throat, straightens up in his chair, shoots you a shit-eating grin, picks up his forks and jubilantly takes a bite of his dinner. He doesn't even bother to say anything; he knows he has won that argument, fair and square. You are still too shocked and disconcerted to speak.

“Sir, Ma’am,” the maître d' is suddenly at your table, “we would like you to leave, please.” his tone is decidedly stern. After a brief exchange of glances, you both burst into spontaneous giggles.

As you are bundled out of the door unceremoniously, not even being asked to pay, you hear a man ask a waiter a question that makes you laugh even louder.

“Did he have the daily special?”

Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n #it had to be you fic

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