#me being obsessed with a man's hands? must be a day that ends in y | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

redstarwriting · 11 months

Text

the clash | v. ever fallen in love

hobie brown x goth!reader

word count: 3.1k

genre: enemies to lovers

warnings: language, insults, hobie hating you, you hating hobie, mentions of death, demonic names, mentions of injuries, giving and receiving stitches, geniuses being dumbasses

a/n: these keep getting longer LMAO which is wild too bc i literally had an idea to make this chapter even longer, but i had to end up splitting it up. thank you to everyone who’s reading the series, i appreciate you all more than you will ever know. please enjoy this chapter, the next should be out either late tonight or tomorrow :)

previous chapter: iv. london calling

now reading: v. ever fallen in love

next chapter: vi. (with someone you shouldn’t’ve)

───────────────────────────────────

It’s been a few months since you’ve become a part of Spider Society, and much to everyone’s disappointment, you and Hobie still hate each other. Even though on any given day the two of you will be seen around each other, you’re always arguing. Yelling. There have been multiple times where the two of you almost fought, but someone always breaks it up before it gets to that point. “Ready to go, Hobie?” Gwen asks, and he scoffs. “Can’t believe ‘m bein’ forced to go to that dickhead’s world by you of all people,” he grumbles, and she rolls her eyes. “C’mon man, we all know that you’ve both been way more irritable towards everyone because you haven’t seen each other in what? Like two days?”

“I’ll be a lot worse when I see them, I can promise ya that, mate,” he snaps and Miles shakes his head. “Yeah, sure. Whatever, Hobie,” he says as Gwen pulls up the portal to your world. “Are you excited to see them? I haven’t seen you two apart for this long ever, you’re always together,” Pavitr says, side-eying Hobie. He keeps trying to tell Gwen and Miles the two of you only hate each other because you have strong feelings for one another and don’t know how to face them.

“I’m telling you, they’re obsessed with each other,” Pavitr says as he, Gwen, and Miles sit in his home, sipping some chai. “Obsessed with wanting to kill each other maybe, but that’s about it,” Miles says, and Pavitr groans. “No! You’ve got it all wrong! Neither of them knows how to express their feelings and that’s the only reason they act the way they do!” he tries to convince them, but Gwen and Miles just glance at each other. “I don’t know, Pav,” Gwen says. “I picked up on the romantic tension between the two of you immediately, why are you doubting my genius social cue reading now?”

“You need to stop being such a romantic, Pav. The two of them would rather eat glass than be romantically involved in any way,” Gwen responded, but Pavitr was not convinced.

He still isn’t. Hobie laughs. “Excited? You must be mental to think I’d be chuffed to see them,” he responds, and Pavitr sighs. One day. One day he will get Hobie to admit he cares for you.

Gwen was honestly a little nervous for this little meet-up. The two of you had a really bad fight recently, and trying to get the two of you back to talking level seems a little ambitious.

“You what?” he yelled, causing you to roll your eyes. “I’m being mentored by Miguel.” Hobie stares at you, not saying anything, with his mouth slightly open before he shakes his head. He’s very angry, but you simply don’t care. “He’s helping me, Hobie. We both have the venomous bite thing, so he’s trying to help me out with it and helping me adjust to–”

“Don’t you dare say adjust to fuckin’ Spider Society like I ain’t been here the whole time.”

“You never necessarily helped, Hobie. Unless you count constantly insulting me and–”

“Nah, don’t gimme that fuckin’ rubbish, (Y/n),” he growls, and you cross your arms. “Why are you so mad about it anyway?” He laughs. “Why am I mad? Seriously?! You’re the right fuckin’ hand of the pitch and toss!”

“The what?” you ask and he groans. “The fuckin’ boss, (Y/n)! The man!”

“So what, Hobart?! In case you forgot you’re a part of this society, you listen to Miguel too!”

“I fuckin’ don’t!”

“You fucking do!” By this point, you’d pulled attention from several other spiders, not only because of the yelling but because their senses were going off. The two of you were too focused on each other to realize they were all ready to pounce on the two of you. “Fuckin’ piss off before I do somethin’ we both regret,” he growls, and you laugh. “Make me.”

The two of you were separated after that and haven’t talked to each other since. Granted, it’s only been two days, but that is long for the two of you, honestly. And it’s been making everyone a target of Hobie’s rude remarks and your cynicism. The two of you need to talk because clearly, not talking just makes the two of you feel worse.

Even though Hobie’s acting like this is the worst thing his friends could possibly do to him, he does kind of sort of miss you. Which he hates. It’s been two days and he’s already missing you? Disgusting. He can’t wait to yell at you about it. He’s able to keep his cool and pretend like he really doesn’t want to go, but in reality, he’s so anxious to see you. “Alright, come on,” Gwen says, motioning for Hobie to enter the portal. He glances around at them. “Makin’ me go first?”

“Can’t have you run off at the last minute,” Gwen says and he sighs. “Whatever,” he says, walking a little too fast into the portal. He only stops when he’s enveloped in a familiar darkness. He feels something brush up against his leg, and he lets go of a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. “Good seein’ ya, Shadow,” he says, bending down to give your cat some attention. Shadow headbutts him and he scratches between his ears. Your cat loves Hobie, much to your disdain.

“You hurt him, I kill you,” you said to him the second time he was at your place. He picked up Shadow while you were in your room, and when you came out and saw him holding your baby, you were ready to fight. But you were ready to fight him at any given moment anyways. “I won’t hurt him. He’s much cooler than his owner anyways,” Hobie says, petting his head. You roll your eyes. “Yeah well– wait is he purring?” you say, and Hobie smirks at you. “Looks like he likes me better than his owner too.”

“Shut the fuck up. Shadow!” you call your cat, your voice going from a tone that screams ‘I hate you’ to one that screams ‘I love you.’ Of course, Shadow’s ears perk up and he hops out of Hobie’s arms and right over to yours. You stick your tongue out at Hobie, who rolls his eyes and looks away to cover up the dusting of a smile on his face. “What are you, 12?” he asks, and you scoff. “Can I hold Shadow?” Pavitr asks, and you hand him to him without a second thought. But no matter who you passed him to, he’d either end up in yours or Hobie’s lap.

He's so lost in the memory that he doesn’t even sense you approaching. “So, you decided to actually show up. I’m surprised,” he hears your voice and looks up at you. “Wasn’t exactly by choice, love. If I had it my way, I’d never be in this hellhole again,” he retorts, and you just shake your head and say nothing. That’s strange. You thought for sure you would mention something about him being forced to do something even though he always does what he wants. “What? Have you lost your spitfire after only two days of not talkin’ to me?” he asks, standing. You sigh. “I just… I don’t have the energy to fight today, Hobie. Okay?”

Don’t have the energy? You literally always have the energy to fight with him. Before he can say anything else, Pavitr comes through the portal.

“(Y/n)! How have you been?” he asks, excitedly, hugging you. Hobie doesn’t like that. But what he doesn’t like even more is the slight look of pain that spreads across your face for a split second. He observes silently as you play it off like nothing happened, and Pavitr is none the wiser to it. Gwen and Miles enter shortly after, and the dynamic you all had before yours and Hobie’s attempted murder of each other returns. Except for the constant bickering between you and Hobie. Instead, it’s just a lot of silent glaring, and subtle reactions. “Okay, hold on. What the hell is this?” Miles asks, and you both look at him. “What?” you say at the same time, ending in a side eye to each other. “That! That right there, why aren’t you two threatening to tear each other’s heads off because you said the same thing?” Miles asks, and Hobie shrugs. “I got nothin’ to say to them.”

“Ditto,” you say, and the three of them look at you two like your heads just got cut off. “Are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m havin’ a laugh, mate?” Hobie snaps at Miles and he puts his hands up in surrender. “This… is odd. I can’t recall the last time it was quiet between you two.”

“Because it never was. They always went for each other’s throats like their own lives depended on it,” Pavitr says to Gwen, and you clear your throat. “We’re right here, you know,” you say with a forced grin. “Yeah, care to save the talkin’ bout us til we aren’t around?” Hobie grumbles and the three glance at each other before nodding. “Sorry, you two…” Gwen says, and you shrug. “It’s whatever. Dealt with worse,” you say, and Hobie nods. He glances over at you again. How is no one else noticing how weird you’re acting? Is he the only one who pays attention to you or some shit?

This isn’t the first time he’s picked up on your odd behaviors. Within the time he knew you, he was able to notice your behaviors unlike anyone else.

He wasn’t necessarily looking for you. He’d never go out of his way to look for you in a million years, yet here he was. In your world because you didn’t show up at the allotted time everyone was gonna meet up at in his world. He webbed up to the tallest building, the Ember Stake Building. It resembled that of a wooden stake, except all black and metal instead of wood. Sure enough, you were there. “You’re late.”

You turn and look at him, but don’t say anything. Instead, you just turn away. He frowns. “What’s that all about, then?” he asks, plopping next to you. You sigh. “I think I’m just gonna stay here tonight.”

“What? Why? Because you’re too borin’ to do anythin’ fun? Gotta work late tonight?”

“No. Personal reasons,” you say and he cocks his head to the side. “Such as?”

“Fuck off, Hobie. I’m not telling you.”

“Yes, you are. What’s goin’ on in that empty head of yours?” he asks and you give him an unamused look. “It’s the anniversary of my Uncle Belial’s death,” you mumble. He frowns. “Ah. I see.”

“...Yeah.” The two of you sit in silence, the wind the only noise happening before he sighs. “Well then, you’re definitely comin’ tonight.” He stands. You look at him. “I just said-”

“And I don’t give a shit. Come on, your friends are waitin’ for you. Besides, they can help ya get your mind off of it. Chop-chop.” You ended up going because you were forced to. But you did have a good time. Hobie was right, it helped you get your mind off of things. And maybe you were reading into it, but he seemed just a tad bit nicer to you that night than normal.

And you could tell his.

“And what the hell is your problem today?” you appear behind Hobie who is angrily restringing his guitar in his common room at Spider Society. “Well now you’re a part of it,” he responds. You sit on the floor across from him. “As much as I’m happy just my presence can reduce you to a massive asshole, I don’t think I’m the only reason this time.”

“How could you even tell?”

You shrug. “You busy your mind and hands when you’ve got something on your mind,” you say, and he looks at you. He clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “Didn’t realize you were obsessed with me.”

“You wish,” you say. He sighs. “New group of fascist assholes showed up today,” he begrudgingly opens up and you nod. “Told you so.” He glares at you. “Had to say it,” you say, “But you’ll beat them. You always do.” He glances at you. “And if you can’t, I’ll just take care of it for you.” He laughs, unamused. “I’d like to see you try.”

He’s unsure why so many memories are flooding back to him at this moment in time. The answer is that he’s obsessed with you and Pavitr is right, but we don’t need to talk about that until he realizes it for himself. Maybe not seeing you has made him think about you more for some reason. He shakes his head, rejoining the conversation. Everything goes surprisingly well for the rest of the time you all are together. Unfortunately, Gwen gets a notice that something is happening in her world, and she has to go. Miles follows, and Pavitr is torn between going with them or staying with the two of you to make sure no one gets murdered. Or to see some romantic shit.

“We been behavin’, haven’t we?” Hobie says, a bit relieved they were leaving so he could find out what was up with you. You were close with the others, but even they’ve commented on you two only opening up with each other. “You actually have… and maybe it’d be good to leave them alone. Talk out whatever issues they’re having,” Miles says to Pavitr and Gwen, who look at each other but reluctantly agree. Miles and Pav rush into Gwen’s world before her. “I swear if you two kill each other I’m going to kill both of you,” Gwen says, walking backward into the portal to her world and pointing at the two of you. “We won’t.”

“Probably,” Hobie finishes, and Gwen rolls her eyes before disappearing. There’s a silent tension between the two of you before he speaks up. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you’re–”

“Don’t play dumb with me, now. What happened?” he pushes, and you frown at him. Shadow leaps up into your lap and nuzzles you. You sigh and gently pet him. Hobie stays silent, watching and waiting. “Just… bad day,” you mumble. “Bad day, how?”

“Bad spider day.” He hums. “That why you looked like Pav stabbed ya after that hug?” You look at him, surprised. “You saw that?”

“Course I did. ‘m not fuckin’ daft,” he responds, and you look at Shadow. “Yeah… it’s nothing, though. Just a few scratches, typical Spider-Person shit,” you say, and he nods. “Let me see, then.”

“What?”

“Let me see.”

“Why?”

“Cause you’re lyin’,” he shrugs, and you glare at him. “Have I told you I hated you?”

“Not recently, but yeah.” You glare at him but sigh. “Fuck you, Hobie,” you mumble, but shrug off your oversized cardigan. His eyes widen as he sees deep lacerations and bruises spread across your shoulder and onto your back. He stands up and approaches you without even realizing it. You watch him as he studies your injuries. “Who did this?” His voice sounds darker than you’ve ever heard it. You look away from him. “Does it matter?”

“Yes,” he responds immediately. You turn your head to look at him again, only to have him staring directly into your eyes. “Prowler,” you mumble, and he frowns. “The worst of the worst in your world,” he whispers to himself, recalling a conversation the two of you had months ago. He glances around. “Where’s your first aid kit?” he asks, and you look at him with a side-eye. “Why?”

“Cause I wanna get high off the painkillers in it, why do you think, you dolt?” he snaps, and you point to your bathroom. “Under the sink.” He gets up and walks into your bathroom, grabs the first aid kit, and walks back out to you on your couch. “Turn round and move a bit,” he says, and you do. He sits behind you, starting to clean and stitch to your injuries up. You wince slightly and he frowns. “Why haven’t you done this yet?”

“I can’t reach back there myself.”

“Then ask someone else to do it.”

“I don’t have anyone to ask anymore.”

“Yes, you do,” he says without missing a beat. You turn your head to say something snarky to him, but he looks at you at the same time. Your faces are closer than the two of you expected, causing you both to quickly look away. You can feel your face burning, and you’re grateful the injuries are mainly on your back and not close to your heart because you don’t want to hear his comments about how fast it’s beating. On an equal note, Hobie’s happy you aren’t looking at him because he has his jaw clenched and swallows hard. His heart is beating just as fast, but he pretends like it’s nothing, just like you. He finishes the stitches, placing bandages over top of them. “Done,” he says, and you mutter a quick ‘thank you’ as he tosses the first aid kit onto your coffee table. “Should be healed by tomorrow,” you mumble, and he nods. “When did that happen?”

“A few hours before you all got here,” you admit, and he frowns. “And you were just gonna pretend nothing happened?”

“Yes. I told you earlier, I’m too tired to deal with any bullshit today, okay?” you confess, and he frowns.

“He get ya that good cause you’re tired?”

“I guess.”

“When’s the last time you slept?”

“Dunno.”

“Stop lyin’ love,” he says, and the nickname you hate oh so much sounds just a little sweeter to you than it should. “Couple days ago.”

“You haven’t slept in two days?” You shake your head, and he sighs. “Go the fuck to sleep. Now.”

“But–”

“Go,” he demands, pointing to your bedroom. You groan, “You’re so fucking annoying,” you mumble, getting up and dragging yourself to your room. “Yeah, yeah whatever,” he says, following you. You flop onto your bed as he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed. “Come to tuck me in?”

“You wish,” he watches as Shadow hops up onto your bed, curling up against you. You immediately put your hand on him and pet him. Hobie frowns as he feels a pang of annoyance toward your cat. “Gonna stand there and watch me sleep or something?” your voice pulls him out of his ridiculous thoughts, and he scoffs. “Gonna stand here and make sure you don’t try to get up as soon as I go,” he says, and you sigh. “Fine,” you mutter, rolling away from him. He stands there until he’s sure you’re asleep. He glances at Shadow, who is still awake and staring at him. He puts his finger to his lips to say “shh” as he pulls his mask over his head.

He and the Prowler of this world need to have a bit of a chat.

───────────────────────────────

『 tag list 』

@444neapolitain @afraidofshrimp @arianalovescatss* @aroaceg @astrok1dz @baefy3764 @casmosmoon* @chill-guy-but-cooler @d1nne @dotheyevenknowmars @f1shb0nez @faerieluuv @fisshil @fukingsad @fushiguropleasesteponme* @friendly-reject @hisdarlingabsurdity @idk-i-draw @imarealfungi @imobsessedreader* @ineedsomeconfidence @inkthgoat @iwillrisefromthefire @j3st3r-13 @jingliuu @jjkclub @katiebug0603 @kenqki @khaleesihavilliard @kittekat420 @lacunaanonymoused @localbeidousimp @marshallowy @mistpx* @miwagila @naarra* @nikabearr @pookiesnatcher @queen-of-the-bored @queen-of-the-grapefruits @sadbitchhours400* @scoliobean @sillylittleguyinc @simplefools* @siriusly1 @sparklyphantom @stevenknightmarc @sxftiebee @thatweirdgirlsposts @valee1xoxo* @weyrrii* @wheeeelys @woahrin* @xoxobabe* @zero-boxes

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you asked to be on the taglist and i forgot, i’m sorry :( feel free to leave a comment on this or message me separately and i’ll get you right onto it!

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x y/n #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderverse x reader #hobie brown #hobie #spiderpunk #spider-punk #spiderverse #theclashofthespiderverse

2K notes · View notes

lovelyyandereaddictionpoint · 11 months

Text

The Yandere Student Council

You just needed to get your schedule officialized. Having gained special permissions to take a desired course you needed the student council’s collective stamps of approval to proceed. Normally all you would need to do was slip in the necessary documents. But something seems to keep happening to yours and it just works better for you to do it in person. Thus begins you’re journey of getting the obsessed student council’s approval.

The first one you go to is the one with the easiest access –the Secretary. Gill Hunter has an absolute poker face when his boyfriend isn’t around. So you’re pleasantly surprised when he’s actually willing to hear you out. Keeping his amber eyes on you he listens to your plea for his stamp, seemingly not reacting at all he promises to help you—for a price. You have to step in for him and his boyfriend from time to time. He says it's just a week as he demands you shadow him for the day. Calling to you in his monotone voice to join him in the student council lounge. Don’t bother bringing up you’re friends or your desire to eat your lunch alone. Even as the week comes to an end and you get your stamp he has you working closely with both him and his boyfriend very closely as an honorary assistant.

“Most if not all schedules go through me, you don’t want your schedule being messed up again. Do you?”

The next one is Gill’s beloved–the Historian. June Frimroar is a different kind of person you need to get a stamp from. Where Gill strings you along with his stone-cold face and hardly hidden intentions, June will do the exact opposite. With a smile that flirts with scheming and altruism, he’ll ask for the most innocent kind of help. Only to somehow become something far more intimate and demanding of you in the first place. How else would simply taking notes during student council meetings lead to you smushed in a locker with the historian and his boyfriend? Or how you’ll be forced to help undress June whose hands inexplicably might be sprained? He’s an enigma to loosely associate with trouble, easily put off by how kind he is to you and your friends as you start spending more time with him and the rest of the student council. Certainly, those rumors of him crippling classmates for fun are far from true, right?

“Don’t you trust me, (Y/n)? Just listen to me and I’m sure everything will work out…even if that blackmail situation with your friend is completely separate.”

Like clockwork, you fall into being the student council’s lackey suddenly trusted with helping the seemingly overwhelmed Treasurer. Min Su is an odd fellow who’s been dignified a living legend with his accounting possibilities; rumored to casually be hired by the government a couple of times. So it's odd that he suddenly must have you spending your club hours documenting receipts. He’s so apologetic and jumpy that you don’t feel right questioning him. So it's normal that he has a fierce blush on his face as you take the records from his hand. Or the little noises of excitement pleasure he seems to have when you lean over him to admire his speed as he’s calculating the books. He’s likely to forget that you needed to get his stamp until you off-handedly mention how you’re going to miss him when you get that stamp.

“Oh, you wanted that? I-I’m happy to give it to you, n-no problem! But you’ll still visit me right?”

At this point, your presence is much more normalized in the student council quarters, and naturally, the Sergeant of Arms or more well known as the student council’s hype man is happy to welcome you. Popular beyond belief Roman Ferris arguably has the largest fan and friend base in the entire council. Knowing everything about everyone he already knows what you’re asking for and he’s cheekily telling you he’s already prepared how you’re going to get it. If you thought Gill was forward then you’d be mistaken Roman straight-up demands every weekend that you come with him on a date. Movies, restaurants, ice cream, trips to the park, he’s doing it all with you. Demanding you dress up for these ‘definitely not dates’, hold his hand while you walk, and smile at him only him when you pose for the camera. It's odd how he knows your every like and dislike, always ordering for you and smiling ominously when you ask. But he’s definitely not giving you this stamp if you suddenly stop coming to his dates hangouts, even if he promised he would. It’d be bad if the whole student body considered you a harlot for playing with the golden boy’s feelings. So just smile while you eat your favorites and keep your mouth sealed about your suspicions.

“Don’t worry about it babe, I already know just how you like it! Don’t worry how I know~ You’re so cute when you're well-fed!”

Practically cemented to your unwritten obligation the Vice President is well aware of what you’re after. Spencer Lyle will wait until the end of the day mindlessly stamping your document as he scrambles through his hefty pile of paperwork. Bags under his eyes and his lids dropping dangerously you figure you’ll help him, already familiar with the kind of work he was doing anyway. He thanks you when you eventually wake him up and from then on something sinister a friendship is born. Suddenly he’s coming up to you in your classes, during lunches keeping you talking casually as he leads you to the student council room. You were going there anyway, right? He’s just the perfect friend for you. Great at warding off bullying fans or teachers that get a little too snippy, he becomes your go-to friend. Not too popular but well-respected feared by the student body; totally perfect for relying on him to be relatable. Completely complacent with letting him into your life and it feels so normal now that he rings your dorm bell for an early morning. You know him so well so it's natural he does the same.

“Hey, you ready to go cupcake? Bags under my eyes? Yeah, I was up all night protecting you doing council stuff, you know how I work.”

Last but certainly not least the Student Council President: Lucoa Grander the college’s prodigy cryptid. Known to be a living genius and prominent underground business personality it seems only natural that he gets such a powerful, prestigious position. He is such a celebrity you go to Spencer to deliver your schedule confirmation only to receive a disappointing answer. Apparently, the president’s only willing to stamp yours personally, and thus your witchhunt for the illusive president begins. Searching high and low, stringing on his fan base’s own timeline and the other council members’ accounts you try to find him. But after a while, you give up fully prepared to abandon your desired course to have the blue-haired pierced-up president mysteriously showing up. He greets you so casually, sitting next to you as he asks mundane questions. When you finally ask for his stamp he gives it to you…on a major condition.

“We’ve been looking to widen our ranks and I’ve we’ve been keeping a close eye on you. And we’re thinking of making you an honorary member–it's a new position to diversify our team. You’ll get your stamp this way and we get you our beloved a new member that’s fair enough isn’t it?”

3K notes · View notes

ooffmlsorry · 6 months

Text

Bringing Law Home for a Family Holiday

Readers' Note: Reader has a large and generally good but overbearing family. Only happy things in this, little to no angst!

A/N: Every holiday I get struck with the desire to write my latest blorbo coming home with their s/o for the holidays. I don't have time to crack out 10-15k words so this is probs gonna be more stream of consciousness but it'll get the point across.

I've been imagining how tense the travel to Law's s/o's house is because God forbid y'all be late because Law wants to make a good impression no matter how many times you explain it's a very loose 4 p.m. arrival time.

You've been dating for long enough that you think it's reasonable for him to meet your family (that was enough to make Law's heart flutter and then start hammering...could it be you're just as serious about him as he is about you?)

"My aunt showed up at noon and my cousin's probably not going to be here until after dark, really it's fine!" You'd insist. "Besides, the people that show up on time are the ones that end up having to go back out because someone forgot something!"

And of course Law would say "that's fine." With a such a stubborn and determined tone. Being on time or a few minutes early is better than being late! Suddenly your man is a rule follower! 🤭Suddenly you can picture Law as he was a kid studious and button-ed up in his little doctor's uniform. It's almost kind of cute if he wasn't so nervous.

The closest thing to family Law has is Bepo, Shachi and Penguin. Not since the Donquixote family has Law had anything to do with that word and he's so nervous he feels sick. For Law this translate to acting like he has the world's biggest cactus shoved up his ass, and you know that so you try not to take his coolness personally.

Holding his hand helps a little though. You ignore how shaky and sweaty it is.

He's feeling a lot of big feelings right now, poor guy.

He insisted on you giving him a "family tree" when he realized how big your family is and a list of things not to accidentally mention or do. He's been studying it for days, re-reading it over and over obsessively.

The fact that he's a pirate is fine, which takes a lot of pressure off. You come from a family full of pirates, so you swear Law will fit right in. Although you warn him your grandfather's probably going to start reminiscing about how he knew Gol D. Roger as a kid (which no one knows if that's actually true) and ranting about the young pirates these days.

You'd walk up to your family home high on a hill over looking the sea. From several yards away you can already hear music. You realize as you get closer it's more like you're dragging Law more than he's walking with you.

It's subconscious lol. I promise you he's not doing it on purpose. As soon as you notice it he speaks, "I'm fine."

Poor Traffy is so pale!

His tone dares you to question him, almost as if to actually say "I'm fine, if I wasn't I wouldn't be here Y/N. Please trust me to be honest with you about how I'm feeling." But that's a lot of words for someone who's mouth is cotton dry. He's trying his best, so you give him a quick kiss on the cheek for courage and walk up to the house together.

The first thing your family comments on when you open the door is how early you are despite the fact that it's three minutes to 4:00.

"We weren't expecting Y/N for another hour!" Your aunt winks at Law and nudges him, no introduction, no nothing, and says "you must really be something special if you can get them here to early!"

Despite Law's best efforts, having one of your family members immediately point out his supposed specialness to you makes blush and stutter.

It doesn't matter how awkward his no response of blinking at your aunt was because she's already gone flitting around with an arm full of what your family calls "the good plates."

You pull Law down to whisper in his ear, "told you we'd be early," you giggle.

It's not the nicest house, but it is big, and warm, and festive. Just standing in the doorway taking it in Law's struck with the remembrance of home. He tries to only focus on the present, not Swallow Island, Spider Miles, or even Flevance, your home is good..for today. But tomorrow he'll back at his home: the Polar Tang.

You introduce him to what little family is already there. Your heart squeezes at the way Law awkwardly waves at the baby your cousin's bouncing on his lap and the surprise that quickly turns into a soft smile that spreads across his lips when the baby coos back.

He meets your grandpa, who appraises him very officially. You swear to God Law's holding his breath as the stout man with a peg leg circles him with his arms behind his back. "Trafalgar Law, hmm..." he says very seriously. "You know back in my day pirates didn't all these tattoos to prove they were tough."

"I heard your day was quite a long time ago," Law says almost automatically. In for a penny, in for a pound, he doubles down, adding "sir" at the end.

That would be your boyfriend hehe. Too sharp for his own good.

Of course that's what your grandfather likes. He shakes Law's hand and pulls him into a crushing hug. Your grandpa promises later he's got words for him (ie. the shovel talk). It's a little disturbing how comfortable Law feels knowing he'll be threatened with an unspeakably awful death later. That's the most familiar thing that has happened all day. lol

But he knows the person he needs to impart the best impression on is your grandmother. You don't think you've ever seen Law so perfectly polite in your life....which makes your grandmother howl with laughter! "My ass whooping days are over, boy! Relax!" Her frail hands clutch her stomach as she laughs. She wipes a tear from her eyes, "I thought you said he was a pirate?!" She pats Law on the cheek like he's a sweet little boy (because at her old age 26 is a little boy) and gives it a squeeze. And because it's your grandma, he lets her.

You have to hide your laughter behind your hand.

"He's a sweet boy, Y/N," she says to you. "And so handsome! Where were all the good-looking men like him when I was at sea?"

"I killed 'em all!" Your grandpa yells across the house.

And just like that, Law's in your grandmother's good graces. Of course you knew he would be.

True to your word earlier, you get sent in to town to pick up a short list of last minute things. It's a nice moment to breathe. As soon as you're far enough from the house you wrap your arms around him and kiss him deeply.

"I'm so happy they like you," you say quietly once you come up for air. You don't tease him about how strange it is to see him hoping for someone's approval like you would in most circumstances. Instead you feel yourself melt, "I knew they would, but now you believe me?"

"They like me for now," he says because god forbid he go easy on himself.

"You're not as hard to love as you think you are, Law." You press another kiss to his lips.

(A/N: ooh chile lemme tell you, for saying that right there that man is going to romantically rail you within an inch of your life when y'all get back to the ship. That is the only way I can convey to you how much you saying that means to him. He's speechless.)

By time y'all get back there are a lot more people here and it's a lot louder. Your brother asks Law about a rash on elbow (at the dinner table no less, but hey these are pirates!) and he actually gives him advice.

Law meets your little cousins, who ask him a million questions including but not limited to:

"Why do you wears that funny looking hat?"

"Are you actually a surgeon?"

"Does getting a tattoo hurt?"

"Can you give me a tattoo?"

"How many Marines have you killed?"

"Are the Straw Hat Pirates really that strong?"

"Do you really have a polar bear on your ship?"

"Are you and Y/N ever gonna have a baby?"

To which Law responds:

"Who said it was funny looking?"

"Yeah."

"I don't know. I don't feel pain." you thought this man would take their questions seriously?

"Surgeons aren't allowed to do that. My hands will fall off if I do."

"Definitely more than you."

"As strong as they are stupid."

"Yeah, he's our navigator."

".........I think I heard someone calling you from the kitchen."

Your little cousins think "he's weird funny." He does "surgery" on the dolls your cousins offer up to him and thoroughly enjoy the weird monstrosities he creates. And Your moody teenage nephew deems Law "cool."

Your mom insists Law's too skinny for his own good and piles more food on his plate. "If you're going to survive out there you need some meat on your bones! I wanna see you here next year, Trafalgar."

Law almost chokes. Your mom already wants him back next year. He was expecting to have to get her approval somehow too, but she's accepted him immediately. "All I needed to know is if you make my little Y/N happy!" Your mom explains while hugging you, "And look how happy they are!"

And your old man, a pirate captain in his own right, several beers deep, slings his arm over Law's shoulder. "You're the one that's got that big ol' bounty, huh?" Before Law can fully answer, he continues on drunkenly, "that means you probably looted enough to cover your own wedding, right? Cause I'm sure's shit not." God bless Law for taking it with a grain of salt and taking him over to a couch. "That means you can marry 'em if ya want, as'long as I don' havta pay none. But if you break their heart I'll turn ya in myself...goddamn Marines...making me a traitor..." he says until his words turn into drunk muttering.

"That's your blessing in case you were wondering," your mom sighs. "I know you didn't ask but that was it. That man is fine with anything as long as he doesn't have to pay for it."

"You get my blessing because you helped clean up!" Your grandma pipes in. "Nothing more valuable than a man that knows how clean up after himself!"

I don't know how many times Law is rendered speechless for a moment. Was it that easy or was your family truly that accepting? In a handful of hours he's been completely welcomed and they want him to come back next year, to marry you? It's dizzying, but in a...hopeful way? Because...he wants it to happen too...if he's lucky enough to come back next year as your husband.

At the end of the night, you and Law are sent on your way with tons of food to bring back to Heart Pirates, and whether he likes it or not your mom and your grandma each press a kiss to Law's cheek.

You walk back down the hill together.

"It was good to see them again," you say. "Was that too much?"

"No," Law says. "I'm happy."

A/N: so yeah, I just had that bumbling around in my head today. I hope it was fluffy enough for ya! 😘

#one piece fluff #one piece x you #law x reader #trafalgar law x reader #one piece #trafalgar law

334 notes · View notes

sugaimhome · 1 year

Text

country house setting - kth - part one

pairing: 19th century taehyung x reader

minors do not interact!!!

warnings (this part): age gap (10 years, readers 18, he’s 28), masturbation (v brief), loads of smut in the next chapter hold ye horses, yandere (? he’s very obsessed with her and her innocence lol), hints towards previous abuse, distant father figure, the messed up society of 19th century britain, biscuits.

part summary: taehyung wasn't looking forward to the isolation of his fathers manor, when you knock his door, that isolation is shattered, he has a new obsession. When taehyung visits your father to introduce himself as his a new neighbor, he makes you an offer you just can not decline.

words: 4.4k

series summary: your isolated manor house has nothing interesting going on. but when the abandoned manor near to yours has a new occupant, things change. taehyung is obsessed with you from the day you first knock his door. he’d do anything for you, even if it meant going against your father’s wishes, even if it meant you losing something very important to your future marriage on the way, something that would force your fathers hand.

part one part two part three masterlist

explanation of the title: a literacy genre where fictional characters are often isolated and alone living in a country house.

A/N: i’ve been so excited to post this, then suddenly, min yoongi decides to post a picture with the same vibes... least to say I changed some names around to better suit next chapters 😫😫 he will be appearing more than once in this story. this hasn’t been proof read by anyone but me so sorry about that 😶‍🌫️ i love reader so much i just want to protect her 🥺 also the writing on the banner is jane austens writing, what a queen. I did try and copy the speaking of the time a little but I think I failed 😀

“A ball?” you ask, hope filling every inch of your heart, you’d never been to a ball, you were dying to go “Oh, father, we must go” It had been over two months since you’d properly left the house, and that had only been to the local market. You could only paint the garden so many times before going mad.

“We won’t be going to Min Yoongi’s ball” he replies, not looking up from the letter he’s holding. He sounds so resigned you wonder if he even heard you.

“But father-” you begin, hoping to say your piece to him.

“No Y/N” his answer is blunt, you know it was final; there's no point arguing with him when he’s in one of these moods, it will only end with you getting hurt.

“Okay”. This had been the third ball invitation this week and the third rejection from your father. You sigh. How were you ever to find a husband if you didn’t socialise? All the rich men would have found young brides now, and you, at the age of 18 would be seen as too old. The two of you stand in awkward silence for a while as he flips through his letters.

“Someone is making residence in the manor beyond the brook.” he tells you, licking his finger to separate two pieces of paper from each other.

“Really?” you ask. “I hope it’s a family, I would love a friend so close!”

“It’s a single man, according to the Park family, they are acquaintances with him in London.”

“London!?” you exclaim, you had been disappointed by the lack of friends the move in would bring but a new excitement had begun with the aspect of the man being from London. You had so many questions about the place. It was another world to you. “When does he move in?”

“You must not bombard him with your incessant questions.” he complains, wiggling a finger at you without looking up at you.

“I only wish to make him a cake, or maybe some biscuits” you admit, trying to lace honesty into your voice.

Your father sighs, putting down his papers and turning to you. “The 10th”

“But father, that is today!” you think he’s playing with you. “Don’t be mean”

“Read the letter if you do not believe your own father.”

The letter did in fact say the 10th. You’re almost jumping on your feet, but that would be impolite so instead you pull the letter, signed by the park jimin your father had always spoken about to your chest. “What great news” you say, trying to hide the excitement in your voice. “If you don’t mind, father, I will begin to make biscuits for him now”

“Do as you please” he replies, not really listening, still flicking through the pages in front of him. Curtsying you leave the room, the letter balled up in your fist. You make a bee-line for the kitchen, you’d get Annie to put the oven on straight away.

***

Taehyung had been hesitant to move back to the country. When his father had died 4 years ago he’d left his childhood home in his inheritance. Taehyung had decided that after so long it was time to return home after nearly 10 years in London. Home was a loose term. The manor had been miss kept, the garden overgrown, the surfaces dusty. Upon his early morning entrance to the house he had been ushered in by an elderly maid, Victoria was her name, he only vaguely remembered her. Apparently, he'd been paying her a monthly wage to maintain the place since his father had died. She hadn't been doing a too-great job. Though he was grateful that the house wasn't entirely empty when he arrived. Victoria had made him tea, lit his fire and explained to him that she was happy someone was living in the house again. She left, explaining she lived in the town across and had a family now. He granted her a smile as she went.

With the door locked shut and Victoria gone the only sound the house offered was the low snapping and crackling of the flames. It was so different to London, there was always something going on, someone coming to visit him, a servant cleaning or, even in the silent moments, the sound of the street at the end of his carriage-way. He missed it already.

Yet the quiet of the house offered an odd privacy and an odd tranquility that he had missed. It dawned on him that he could do anything here and the only witness would be the flames of this fire and the wildflowers that had overtaken the garden. It gave him a sense of freedom.

Leaning back in his chair, cup of tea in one hand the other lying across his thigh. He relaxed in the blissful, slightly creepy, silence until the door knocked. He sighs. Maybe he wasn't as isolated as he thought. Nearly forgetting that no one is here to open the door for him as he had been so used to in London he quickly shoots from his chair. For a moment he struggled to open the front door, Victoria had locked him in it seemed.

"Give me a moment!" he shouts, hoping his visitor hasn't already left.

He finds a key hanging from one of the plant pots. What an odd place. The door unlocks with relative ease and as he pulls it open he peeks his head around the door.

A teenager. He has opened the door to an unaccompanied female teenager who seems to have a box of biscuits. "Good Evening" she curtsies, the too small corset she's wearing almost over spilling her breasts. He gulps. "I live in the manor across the brook" she explains to him, he can hear the unease in her voice. The naivety and innocence. "I brought you biscuits."

She extends the box to him at arms length, squeezing her breasts together in the process. Was she doing this on purpose? "Thank you," he smiles, taking the box from her. "Would you like to come in?" When she nods he pulls the door open entirely, displaying the very dusty entryway. "Do excuse the disorder, as you can imagine it hasn't been well looked after"

"I wouldn't have noticed if you hadn't said" she admits, purposely keeping her eyes away from the dust. He appreciates the small action. She scans the reception hall, obviously waiting for him to lead her through to a social area. "My name is Y/N" she tells him as he leads her into the living area. When he doesn’t immediately reply she asks, "Would it be impolite to ask yours?"

She's oddly quiet, he probably wouldn't have heard her voice if he were in the hustle of London "Taehyung" he replies. "My father used to own this manor. He died four years ago, would you have known him?"

"I would have been 14 then, with little consideration of what was going on around me" Y/N replies. "I am sorry for your loss"

She was 18. Many questions filled his head. "Is your father a respectable man?" He asks her. "Is that whom you live with?"

"Oh, yes, as respectable as yours once was I should imagine" she replies, he turns to look at her, a little blush covers her cheeks.

"Then you would have been in London for the season this year" he asks, wondering if he had ever crossed paths with her.

"I have never been to London," she replies. "Though, I have heard it is exquisite."

An Eighteen year-old who has never seen London. "Then you must have an arranged marriage with a local man. I hope that is going well for you"

There is a pause between his statement and her reply. "My father does not have time to threat over my marital arrangements"

He is shocked, he had not heard of such a scandalous thing in his life. He feels sorry for her. Puzzled, he leads her into the living room where she gently sits down on a sofa he desperately hopes is not dusty. When no little particles rise to meet the sun he assumes he is safe. "I assume you'd like one of these biscuits" he asks her, turning around to place them on the small, delicately decorated table. When he turned around she'd moved, as quietly as a mouse, to the fireplace. Her dress was so close to the flames. Y/N's attention does not seem to be upon the fire though but more towards the painting placed above him.

"This is not an appropriate place for such a lovely painting." she turns to him. Instinctively he walks up beside her, looking at the painting. "The heat will ruin the watercolour"

There's a pout on her lips, this was obviously something she was very passionate about. "This is Thomas Girtin" she comments, reaching out and ghosting the frame of the painting with her fingers, above her finger is the signature of this Thomas Girtin. "It is a rare and expensive piece."

Taehyung is no longer staring at the painting but rather at her. He was surprised at her confidence to come into a strangers house and advise them on both the placement of their paintings and the stupidly of it. He smirks. "I'll have it moved at soon as possible, Miss Y/N. I am sure it will look a lot nicer in your premises"

"No, sir" she exclaims, stepping back from the painting and turning to look at him. "That is not what my intentions were when telling you about this piece."

"Perhaps it will persuade you to bring me more of those biscuits," Taehyung replies. He thought of his moment on the chair earlier, when he had the small epiphany of the freedom this house would bring him, how he could get away with anything. He places a hand on the small of her back and leads her back towards the front door. Grabbing two biscuits on his way past and passing one to her. With the hand on her back, she seems to have silenced a bit. "It's nearly dark, I would like to walk you back across the brook."

"You do too much, Sir. I grew up here. I know quite well my way across the brook" Y/N defends. Taehyung is adamant as he places his boots on, and his overcoat.

"So did I. I insist" he replies. "I left only 10 years ago, at your age. I'm sure I will find my way back quite safely." She doesn't reply, just stands in front of him with her arms crossed. "If you'd had a season in London you'd know well this is what a true gentleman is supposed to do."

She blushes at the mention of a season in London. It only gives Taehyung an inflated feeling of power. It is clear that this young woman had no idea how to navigate herself around men, or perhaps other humans. She was as isolated as he was when he had lived in this place. He felt an unwelcome feeling of wanting to show her everything.

***

Taehyung had, clearly, known his way around the grounds of both his and your land. As he left you at the bottom of the steps to your mansion, offering you a little smile and a wave as you climbed the steps, he had mentioned something about the biscuits running out soon, his maid had family and once he had shared with them, he'd need more in at least two days' time. You reached the top, turning to see if he'd moved away, he had not. He bows and you curtsy before you slip into the warmth of your home.

As soon as you close the door you place your back against it, as if to block him out. That was not what you had imagined him to look like, you had expected a man in his early forties, perhaps a similar age to your father. You had not expected a young man, a man who's waistcoat fit snugly around his figure, a man who had beautiful fluffy hair. With eyes as dark as the chocolate you so rarely had. Your heart had been beating too fast the whole time you were there, that's what happened to all the women in the books you read when they loved someone, but surely that was over dramatic? Too soon? You wished you had someone to ask but it was just you and your father here now and you doubted he had the answer to this.

The real problem did not lie in your beating heart, nor in the new strange emotion you felt but rather in the fact that when he had asked you if you'd bring more biscuits, you'd said you could bring some the very next day. And after all of that, you hadn't asked him a single question about London. Sighing, you make sure your door is locked before heading up to your chamber. The rest of the house is dead quiet, you can’t bring yourself to care anyways. You didn’t particularly want to see your father. You'd get up early in the morning and make more biscuits.

***

When Taehyung woke up the next morning he realised two things.

that it would be rude of him to not go introduce himself to Y/N's father, they were neighbors now after all.

that he had some very interesting dreams last night and the majority of them involved Y/N. He had woken up with a very prominent erection. He would need to see her again and soon.

He sat up in bed, having disregarded the bedclothes last night. He was alone, it wasn't like there was a risk of being indecent, plus he'd needed to touch himself. Taehyung could see his reflection in the mirror opposite the bed. Whilst looking at himself he wonders if she'd be able to handle the size of him. He places his hand around his dick, dragging it up and down in a loose grip- pretending his hand is Y/N. He assumes she is a virgin - only tightening his grip with this thought. He tries to imagine how she'd sound, but that's something he won't be able to tell until the moment comes, he would make that moment happen, he'd do anything to insure it. What would he have to do, and to what extent, to make Y/N his? The movement of his hand along his dick is almost painful now. Balls tightening more and more with every thrust his hips make into his hand. He cums, shooting white liquid up his stomach. It runs through the valley of his abdominal muscles like a river between two mountains. He would never look at Y/N the same again. In less than an hour he would be introducing himself to her father with the traces of his cum on his stomach the thought of it oddly turned him on. Instead, he headed for the bathroom where he would wash it off. There were times for such things and they weren't for when he was introducing himself to an elder.

***

An hour after you'd baked the biscuits you were standing in your chamber, paintbrush between your teeth, painting a figure into one of your old landscape photos of the house across the brook. You hated to admit that the figure was Taehyung, but it only made sense, you hadn't stopped thinking of him.

You step back from the painting, wondering what it was that was missing exactly. There was Taehyung in his blue overcoat as he had been yesterday. It doesn’t seem enough. You can hardly tell it's him in the picture but if you had studied his figure, as you had plenty of times in the hour you had with him, you would know it was him.

There's a knocking at the door downstairs, it echoes around the whole mansion like the chiming of bells. Climbing over the pots and brushes you have thrown across your room, you hang your head from the open window. From this angle you can't see the front door but you can see the carriage drive. It's empty. Who would visit who didn't have a carriage?

Not caring much about your paint splattered dress you step from your room. Vaguely aware of the paint on your face, you choose to ignore it as you race down the stairs. At the door is your father, who is just opening it as you make it to the landing. However you're much more interested in what's behind the door. Your father obviously doesn't connect the dots as he sees the young man standing at the top of your steps. You, however, become much more worried about the current state of your appearance. "Good morning sir, I'm Kim Taehyung"

Your father stares at him blankly as Taehyung offers his hand to shake. "The new gentleman across the brook?" He asks. Nodding Taehyung smiles at your father, perfectly white teeth on show. From where you're standing he can't seem to see you. You debate running back upstairs before your father lets him in. But you're too late, your father's shaking his hand and pulling him through the door at the same time. There's no hiding now. "My God Y/N!" your father exclaims at seeing you. "I told you not to wear such disgraceful garments out of your room! you'll have to excuse her" he turns to Taehyung, "she's not very well socialised."

You blush, Taehyung must notice you backing away. "It's really not a worry sir, I am already acquaintances with your daughter, she brought me biscuits yesterday evening, I suppose under your instructions"

If your father was to take credit for your ideas, you would have cried, instead your father explodes "I did not advise such an act! I apologise for her rogue mannerisms." You knew he had not been listening to you yesterday. As the pair walk past the bottom of the stairs, therefore past you, Taehyung rolls his eyes and then winks at you.

"I very much enjoyed the biscuits" he announces, it's a response to your father, but he's looking at you as he says it. Tickling erupts on the inside of your stomach. You place a hand on it, having never felt this feeling before. Taehyung watches your hand as it lands on your abdomen. You don't understand why but he's smirking as he follows your father into the study. It dawns upon you that you do not have a great understanding of the outside world nor the feelings that Taehyung has brung with it. The two men disappear behind the study door, and you run over to place your ear to the key-hole.

“Does she paint?” he asks your father, why this isn’t a question he can just ask you is unbeknownst to you.

“I believe so” your father mumbles, the topic of his daughter seems to put him in a foul mood.

“You believe so?” Taehyung sounds upset, as if the response he had received wasn’t enough.

“There becomes a stage in a man's life when he stops caring about the women around him. He stops caring about silly things like paintings. You understand me don’t you.”

“I don’t believe I do, sir,” Taehyung replies. There's a harshness to his voice you had yet to have heard. You bring a hand up to cover the huff of surprise your mouth admits. If you were to talk back to your father like that you’d be slapped and denied food for a day. When your father doesn’t reply Taehyung continues. “I would like to view her paintings if you would permit it.”

“Of course,” Your father replies, annoyed. Then he asks Taehyung a question using so many business words you give up trying to listen to their conversation and focus more, or panic more, on the fact Taehyung was coming to view your paintings. There seems to be no other option than to sprint up the stairs and at least try to tidy it up a little.

You’re in the middle of stuffing an old awful painting under your bed when the door knocks. “Give me a moment father and I’ll be out!” you shout, trying to be oblivious after eavesdropping.

“It’s Taehyung,” he replies. “May I come in”

You pause before answering. You could probably tell him to go away and he would. “Oh! Come in!” You’re up from under your bed now. Currently the main painting on display was the one with him in, you figured that he wouldn’t have looked in a mirror long enough to tell that it was his figure anyway. It was still slightly embarrassing. The door knob twisted and he filled the doorway with his figure.

“This is your chamber and workroom?!” was the first thing he asked, you blush, embarrassed both with the fact he was in the only place you stood naked each night, and that he was judging your way of life.

“It’s not ideal.” you reply, deciding to go for the truth. “I tried painting in the parlor but father was not best pleased.”

He nods his head but doesn’t reply to you, beginning to walk around your room of paintings. Wildflowers. Your father at his desk. A deer in snow. The view of the fields beyond from your window. You're shaking. Stopping at the painting you were most dreading, he tilts his head.

“Are they...” he pauses and his lip curves to the side, “kissing?”

"Um" you begin. "Is it off?" no longer caring that it's him and more concerned with your painting. "Her neck is at the wrong angle isn't it!" you exclaim, you're next to him now contemplating the painting together, as you had done with the portrait over his fireplace. This had been one of your very first paintings of people, you’d read from a men's guide to kissing that you had brought from one of the second hand stores in the town. It was the best you could do, you’d never seen two people kiss before.

Taehyung moves on from that painting to the next, your most recent painting, the one with him in it. You daren’t look at him to see his reaction, instead you wipe a little paint off the bottom of the frame, hoping to distract him from, well, himself.

“I like this one” he smiles, “though I think it's missing something”

You’re too scared to reply to him so instead you just nod your head. It’s funny how he thought the same as you. “You capture the house really well, and the blue of my coat.”

Hands shaking you go to apologise to him. It wasn’t fair of you to paint him without his permission, but he’s moving back to the kissing scene again. Following behind him like a shadow you both end up staring at the painting. You’re aware of him looking at you from the corner of his eye. Your breath catches in your throat. Down the stairs you can hear your father moving about in his study. The rest of the house seems to be in an anxious science, holding its breath, as if it expects something to happen. Do you expect something to happen? He fully turns to you, his focus no longer on the painting, placing one of his hands on your shoulder. Your body freezes, though warmth spreads down your arm and into your body where his hand touches your dress. “Taehyung?” you're aware that your voice sounds so quiet in the greatness of the room.

He pushes your shoulder slightly so you’re facing him. The whole room blurs and it's only him that you can see. He's like an angel sent from God, his bright light blinds you. “I could show you, Y/N”

Show you what? There's so much in this world that you want to see, want to experience. “Show me what?” you ask him, your brain is too innocent, too behind to pick up on what Taehyung really means.

“How to kiss, then after that” he pauses, looking at his small figure in the picture behind you. “I could show you anything” lessening the grip he has on your shoulders. You feel no pressure in your answer, you could say no, he’s so close to you.

“I’d like that” you reply, your mouth staying slightly agape at the eagerness in your tone, you hadn’t realised you were so keen. Smiling, Taehyung brings his thumb up to his mouth, he runs it between his lips, as if to wet them with his spit, then he’s bringing it to your face. This wasn’t how you imagined a kiss to be and, instinctively, step back.

“Don’t worry Y/N, this isn’t a kiss, I am wiping paint off your cheek” his thumb makes contact with your skin and a blush rushes up to your cheeks. Why were you so responsive to his touch? “I won’t kiss you today”

Your lip sticks out in immediate disappointment, “I want you to think on it more” he admits. “You only get one first kiss.”

“How long do I have to think about it?” you ask, you were hit by the insufferable feeling of being so naïve, so behind where you should be in the experience of your life, that it was embarrassing. You’re sure a kiss will solve this. You’re sure Taehyung will solve this.

“Tomorrow” he has removed his thumb from your cheek now, but his other hand is caressing your face. He runs slow circles between your eye and your hair and, nature guiding you, you lean into his touch further. This, you realise, is what intimacy was. You had once read the definition in a dictionary

close familiarity or friendship.

When you had first read it, you had realised that you had never had any intimacy with anyone. It was as foreign to you as flying was to a dog, or walking was to a baby. Your eyes are wide in shock, your legs only just holding your weight up. Taehyung is smiling at you softly when he removes his hand. Your body is as attached to this area of your floor as a tree to soil. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow” he steps over a paint brush and pot, you want to stop him but your tongue has been stolen from you. He’s at your door now, pulling it shut behind him. He’s hidden behind the near closed door when he softly says “I’ll show you everything, Y/N”

Then he’s gone.

You hear the front door shut.

Without his biscuits.

thank you for reading!

#kim taehyung #kim taehyung smut #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts #bts smut #bts kth #kth smut

1K notes · View notes

velvetcloxds · 9 months

Note

Looking for somebody =

+ could you pls make the reader chubby cus am chubby girl and it would be a comfort for me after today 😅❤ but only if you want to ofc anyways i hope you had a good day ♡♡<3

A FEW CENTURIES | C.C.

word count: 0.7k

warnings: chubby!reader, not specified anywhere but it's chubby-reader-friendly as always, I also have not read the vampire diaries books, just watched the show

summary: carlisle and edward find your obsession with the vampire diaries books a little ridiculous, especially when you've got your own house of vampires right there in the real world

It was a dangerous thing, reading around Edward, whatever you were reading was bound to count as entertainment for him as well, even if he was busing himself with his own thing which he always was. Lately, you'd been getting into a silly little series of books you'd been gifted as a joke at first, the writing wasn't really something to rave about but the characters had stolen your interest and you were deadset on finishing the whole series despite the mind reader's distain.

"Edward, I can't focus with all that ruckus," you noted with an overly dramatic sigh, expecting that very look to rest on his face as he caught you telling him off for doing something in his own home. He lifted his hands from the ivory keys of the piano with a sigh of his own. "Must you play while I'm reading?" you huffed and stuffed the faded receipt into your book to hold your place.

"Must you read while I'm playing?" he demanded in return and you heard the softest scoff from the kitchen where Carlisle was making you dinner, his favorite pastime as of late, making the most of his fancy kitchen on your behalf.

"Carlisle, your son is being insufferable," you noted with a delicate smirk, tilting your head back to see a similar look on his face as he met your gaze. "His irritation with my book has turned to actual sabotage."

"You truly think I spend my days planning ways to disrupt your reading?" Edward played a few notes, it wasn't half as bad as you'd expect from your words but it was untimely. How were you to focus on the current villain taking his shot to kill Elena if you were distracted by Edward's rendition of Mozart? "Burning those books of yours would take up much less of my time, this-" he pushed down onto a lower key, humming at the sound and chuckling lightly at your frown. "This is merely to help me endure it."

"You know, you may look like a teenager, Edward, but you can't hide the fact that you're really just a bitter old man," you informed him, and when he chuckled you did too, wanting to get back to your book. Still, you weren't all that bothered that you couldn't when Carlisle sat down on the couch next to you, giving the two of you a familiar look before taking the book from your hands and scanning the page.

"Bitter old men, she says," he mused, very perfectly landed on a page where Elena was stuck right in the middle of some vampire crisis having to be saved by a vampire named Damon who by the looks of it seemed more popular for his appearance than his actions based on Elena's reaction which didn't at all match her description of him. "Seems you have a type," he concluded and was sure to take note of the page you were on before closing the book and chucking it onto the coffee table.

"You jealous, my love?" you teased and he was happy to play along if it meant you'd draw closer to him, leaning onto his chest and brushing a hand around his neck.

"Should I be?" he furrowed his brows in mock concern, shamelessly dragging a hand to cup your waist, the other lifting your palm to steal a kiss, at the ever-disgusted expense of Edward who had gone back to playing as loud as he could.

"Never," you replied earnestly, kissing the tip of his nose before brushing against it with your own. "You're the only dead man I have eyes for," he pinched your waist at that, leaning in for a kiss of his own satisfaction only pleased when you smiled against his lips to end it. "Plus," you hummed, tugging lightly at the hair settled in the nape of his neck to keep his focus. "He's far too young for my liking, you got a good two or three centuries on him."

"Watch it, trouble," he laughed, smacking lightly at your behind when you jumped off him to taste whatever he'd concocted for your dinner.

#carlisle cullen #carlisle x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x you #carlisle cullen x yn #carlisle cullen x y/n #carlisle cullen fluff #carlisle cullen imagine #carlisle cullen blurb #carlisle cullen drabble #carlisle cullen fanfiction #carlisle cullen fanfic #carlisle cullen fic #monique's writing event days #monique's event days

292 notes · View notes

uhohwhathaveidone · 1 year

Note

Dude I’m obsessed with your writing I’m so glad I came across your page omg 😭🙏 I Hope you don’t mind me requesting a Omnis gaunt x reader fic that would be about the reader being a pureblood like omnis being arranged to marry each other and the both don’t get along and then later on they both start warming up to each other and also start caring about each other one day the reader catches a slytherin girl flirting with omnis which makes her jealous to the point the reader is tempted to transform the girl into a damn chicken and Omnis immediately knows the reader is there so after the girl goes away Ominis starts teasing the reader which causes her to be flustered and then out of nowhere the reader quickly gives him a kiss (I’m so sorry if this sounds cringe but I’m a sucker for enemies to lovers and I can’t help but imagine omnis and the reader be like that at first)

"You're supposed to be my husband you idiot <(‵^′)>"

Marriage? (O.G)

hehe OG. Anyway, this is pretty long, if I do say so myself. I listened to a classical music playlist so I kind of got into it. Also, I think my nose ring got infected and now the tip of my nose hurst really bad, so I have to deal with that for a bit. Apparently you shouldn't use rubbing alcohol and stuff and only like saline solution but....my old college friend stole my solution and I keep forgetting to buy more. Anyway, no warnings, fem!reader, whose also in Slytherin. Its just the good old angst/fluff enemies to lovers trope. I've never written for Ominis before, and let me tell you, I kept typing Seb on accident before correcting myself. And thank you so much for all your requests, im still chipping away at them! Anyway, Enjoy <3 pt2, Marry Me

You stood beside your mother, grasping onto her dress as you stood, watching your father talk with another man. Beside him sat a strange-looking boy. You noticed how his eyes were very different, unsure how to describe them if anyone ever asked, but his hair was laid nicely, done by his mother, no doubt. He was dressed in a rather fancy attire, one you would normally see at one of the many high-end parties your parents would hold, at it seemed to match the dress you wore perfectly. Your mother held a glare as she looked at your father, who shook hands with the other and walked over to you, kneeling down to your height. “Darling, I want you to meet Ominis Gaunt, the boy over there.” He pointed to the boy, who you now know was named Ominis, who didn’t wave or even acknowledge you. You huffed, crossing your arms. “Why must I meet him? He doesn’t look very friendly.” You complained, sending a childish glare his way. Your father sighed, placing a hand on your small shoulder. “You’ll be married to him in the future, so it’d be best if you met now and got along beforehand.”

“Marry him? That’s stupid! I don’t want to get married!” You shouted, running to hide behind your mother. She only sighed as she turned to you, patting your head. “Just go say hi to him, ok darling?” You puffed your cheeks as she ushered you towards him, leaving you there to go make small talk with his parents. You stood there, glaring at the strange boy. His eyes were creepy, and they only seemed to get creepier the more you looked at him. He didn’t speak a word, staring off into a corner of the room the two had been left in. You took a breath and brought your hand out, outstretched to shake his own. “Hello, my name is y/n. You’re Ominis?” He nodded, turning his head in your direction. He didn’t take your hand, nor even look at it. You grew impatient, feeling like a fool. “Well? Aren’t you going to shake my hand?” You asked, gesturing to him. “Right, sorry.” He said, and stretched his own hand out, moving it around in the air. “Seriously? Come on.” You sighed, grabbing his hand, and shaking it once. “You act like your blind, or something.”

“I am…blind.” Ominis said, furrowing his brows. You glared at him, still upset about the embarrassing handshake. “Clearly.” You turned to walk away, looking in the direction of your mother. “How boring, I refuse to marry someone as boring as you are.” Ominis glared in your direction, beginning to dread the arraignment your parents had set up. “I wouldn’t want to marry someone as spoiled as you, either.” Your cheeks heated up in anger as you turned to him. “I am not spoiled!” Ominis shrugged, “Could have fooled me.” You huffed as you stomped over to your mother, grabbing her hand. “Let’s go, mother. I refuse to marry someone like him, he’s boring and rude.” She sighed, looking over to your father as he narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have a choice, sweetie. Your father already set it up.” “Well then Father is a fool, I wish to go home and never see him again.”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible, little lady.” Your father scowled, crossing his arms. “It has already been set that you will marry Ominis, and even if you wanted to avoid him, it would be impossible.” You stomped a foot onto the cobbled ground, pouting. “And why is that?” You asked, glaring over at Ominis, who had made his way over, somehow. “You’ll be attending Hogwarts next year, same as him. No doubt you’ll be in the same house as well. You must get used to it.” Your father placed his cup onto the table, bowing his head to Mr. Gaunt. “I refuse!” Your mother grabbed your hand and began to walk you out, promising to let you out into the garden when you made it home. You smiled; finally being told something you like to hear. Your father only sighed as he stepped into the carriage behind you, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She’s only ten, it’s quite the age to be set up for marriage.” Your mother reasoned, still holding your hand. You looked out the window, focusing on the world going by instead of your parents’ voices. “It doesn’t matter, we were the same age when we were told that we would marry.” He looked over at his wife, who refused to make eye contact with him. “And I resented you for a long while before we got to that point. All I’m saying is to give them time. Children their age don’t want to get married, they want to see the world.” “She has no choice, one way or the other.”

You stood amongst the crowd, watching as students were called up and placed into their houses. You fiddled with the ring your mother gave you, looking around anxiously. You watched a girl walk up to the front, sitting on the stool. You let out a shaky breath as you watched her smile and run to where the other Ravenclaws were. “Nervous?” You groaned, turning to Ominis. “Not one bit, but I would mind some personal space, you know.” Ominis shook his head, “You can’t lie to me. I can hear your breathing.” You glared at him, knowing he couldn’t see the anger that had made its home in your features. “Keep your ears away, just because you can’t see doesn’t mean you can use your hearing to spy on me.” Ominis shook his head, backing away slightly. “Still as rotten as always. Remind me to never try and help you with anything.” You scoffed, “As if anything I need help with would use your assistance.” Your name was called then, and you gave Ominis one last glare as you made your way through, sitting on the stool.

“You have great wit, you do. Bit of a temper… but not to everyone. I see. A rival already, perhaps? Your mind is strong, but there are other parts…yes.” You sighed as the hat rambled to itself, looking around. “I’d say… Slytherin!” You released the breath you had begun to hold, heading to the table where your father had sat many years ago. A girl waved her hand to you, patting the seat beside her. “Come sit here!” You nodded as you made your way over, taking a seat beside the brunette. “Hello! I’m Anne, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” She offered to shake your hand, and you gladly took it. “My name is y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” Anne smiled at you and pointed into the crowd. “You see that boy, the one with the brown hair near the front?” You shook your head, noticing that there were a long of boys in the assembly with brown hair, including Ominis. “There’s quite a few of them, Anne. You’d have to be more specific.” She sighed, trying to find an easier way to show you. “Oh! He’s standing by the other boy with brown hair, I saw him earlier, blind I believe?” You sighed, knowing she meant Ominis, and quickly spotted him. Beside his stood a taller boy, brown hair, just like Anne said. “I believe I see him now.” Anne smiled, “Good! That’s my twin brother, Sebastian!” You nodded, watching as the two boys got closer to the front of the group. “He’ll definitely be in the same house, I’m sure of it.” You could only nod, watching as Ominis was called up to the stool. Your father’s words replayed in your head, “No doubt you’ll be in the same house.” You shuddered, glaring as Ominis was, indeed, sorted into Slytherin as well.

You thought that would be the end of it, you’d be sorted in the same house, but otherwise not have to deal with each other. You were wrong. You shared many classes with Ominis in your first year, second too. Your friend, Anne, had also become his friend, along with her twin brother Sebastian. You felt your insides bubble in anger as you realized that you had to share friends now, unable to get away from the boring boy you were cursed to marry. Anne had come up to ask you once why you were sort of rude to Ominis, but kind to everyone else. You brushed it off, replying that you just didn’t get along with him. Ominis had let it slip once, though, in front of Anne and Sebastian.

You watched Ominis become more aware of his surroundings, able to navigate around furniture with ease now thanks to all the practice. He was annoying you, always bringing up the marriage situation whenever he tried to help you with something. You thought that maybe you hung out with Imelda too much, as you dragged some of the furniture around a bit, just barely noticeable to anyone. You then sat back, talking with Anne and Sebastian, eyes trailing to Ominis as he walked into the common room. You watched as he took his normal route, around tables and chairs, but his route was disrupted. You watched in glee as he ran his side into the arm of a chair, hissing in pain as he grabbed it. Sebastian quickly stood up, moving to help Ominis.

“Pretty clumsy, are you?” You teased, placing your arms behind your head. Ominis glared in your direction, already on to your plan. “I do hope you lose the habit of moving furniture before we get married, I’ll be dead before we even reach the wedding.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Perhaps that was the plan, my dear.” Anne and Sebastian looked between the two of you, confused. “Wait!” Anne spoke up, “Is that why you don’t like Ominis? You’re forced to marry him?” You nodded, gesturing to Ominis, “He called me spoiled when we first met.” Anne looked at Ominis, seemingly offended for you. Quickly, Ominis retorted. “You called me boring and rude! And said to “stop acting like I’m blind.”” You held back a laugh, “To be fair, no one told me you were blind before-hand.” Ominis sighed, exhausted. “Could have asked, you know.” “Be pretty rude to walk up to a boy I just met and go “Hello, I’m going to be your wife! By any chance, are you blind?” Although, that would be pretty funny.” Ominis shook his head.

By the time you made it to your third year, Anne had been pestering you constantly to try and be nice with Ominis. You could only sigh, telling her that she sounded like your mother. You continued to banter with Ominis day after day, insulting each other and pranking each other. The fourth year arrived, and Sebastian came along, informing you that Anne was unwell and unable to come back. Down a friend, you were stuck with Ominis and Sebastian, and you began to grow tired of making fun of your soon-to-be husband.

You walked into the potion’s classroom, taking your seat next to Ominis. He looked over at you, and you blew air from your nose. “Rough night last night?” Ominis asked, stating the obvious, but you could no longer fault him. He was unable to see the dark circles that had formed under your eyes from the study session you had last night, flipping through the chapter you would be going over today. You had always been anxious during Potions, the fear that one wrong ingredient would possibly cause an explosion was the key element that made you study so hard. “Yeah, you could say that.” You responded, grabbing your book, and opening to the page you were on before you finally surrendered to sleep. “You know, not every potions class is going to end up in flames.” You scoffed, shaking your head. “You never fully know until it happens.” “Of course.”

Sharp began the class with the description of the potion they would be making, lecturing for about five minutes before letting the students begin. You sighed, reading off the measurements as you placed them in your pot. You had it memorized, thanks to the night before. You read how the potion was supposed to react, and how it reacted when ingredients were placed when they weren’t supposed to. The potion would blow up, and you refused to let that happen. You took a quick glance at Ominis, checking up on him, only to quickly look back at his hand in horror. He had grabbed the wrong ingredient, of course, and was seconds away from placing it into the cauldron. Quickly, you grabbed his hand, pulling it away. “Ominis! You really must double check before you start adding ingredients!” Ominis looked at you, surprised. “What do you mean?” You sighed, taking the moss out of his hand and placing it away from the rest of the ingredients, replacing it with milkweed. “You were about to blow yourself up, is what I mean. If you’re unsure, please check with me first. Imagine what I’d have to tell your parents if you blew yourself up.” Ominis listened to you ramble, a soft smile on his lips. You had started to become kind to him as you made it to your fifth year. Sebastian joked and said you were finally maturing. Ominis swore that, sometimes, you had been looking out for him as the three of you walked down the hall. Who else would tug on his sleeve and pull him slightly over before he bumped into a statue?

You had stopped talking, returning to your own potion. Ominis placed the milkweed into the cauldron, giving it a quick stir. “Thank you, by the way.” He said quietly, reaching for another ingredient. “Don’t mention it, you probably would have blown me up too, honestly. Here,” You said, grabbing his paper with the instructions on it. You had learned a spell a while ago that changed writing on parchment, and had tweaked it to turn words into brail. Waving your wand quickly, the ink turned to raised dots, and you quickly labeled the ingredients he was using. “So, you don’t blow us up again.” Curious, Ominis grabbed the paper you placed in front of him, running his fingers down it. He smiled and felt a slight warmth in his cheeks. You ignored him and continued to work.

It became a habit in potions now, where you would watch Ominis as he worked with his potions, making sure he was using the right ones. In other classes, you began to help each other, slightly. There was still the teasing and slight insult, but otherwise the two of you were rather tame. You began to walk with Ominis around the grounds, describing things to him when you didn’t have classes to get to. Ominis enjoyed the walks the two of you shared, enjoying the descriptions you made. Sometimes, you would purposefully describe something in a weird way, waiting for Ominis to catch on and tell you how crazy that would be, but sometimes he didn’t. Sometimes, Ominis would become engrossed in your voice, it always had a calm tone to it, even if you were acting out against him. It was one of the first things he noticed when you first met six year prior; the soft voice you used when addressing your mother, how it sounded annoyed when you asked if he was going to shake your hand, the stern tone you used when you told your father that he was boring and rude.

You grabbed his sleeve, shaking him from his thoughts. “No, no, no, where is it?” Your voice was panicked this time, one that Ominis never really heard much. “What’s happened?” You dropped to the ground, searching through the grass. “My mother’s ring! It must have slipped off my finger! I can’t find it.” Your voice cracked, and Ominis knelt down and found your shoulder. “Are you sure you didn’t take it off and leave it by your bed?” You shook your head frantically, tears swelling in your eyes. “Never! I never take it off, not anymore.” Ominis could hear you begin to cry. You had worn the ring to your first day of Hogwarts, a gift from your mother. You told him once about it, how its silver band curled around a pale yellow stone, Hufflepuff, the house your mother was in. You had taken it off every now and then if you were planning on dueling Sebastian or caring for creatures, but during the break between fourth and fifth year, your mother had passed suddenly, and you refused to take it off after that.

“I don’t know where it could be! I can’t remember when I had it last,” You wept, and Ominis found you once again and offered his hand. “I may not be the best help, but I can help us retrace our steps.” You looked at him, confused. “How?” “Well, you’ve been describing our walk this whole time, so if we go back along the same route and give it a good look-over, I’m sure you’ll spot it.” You nodded, taking his hand as he pulled you up, taking your hand and recounting the path you took. “I believe we left off at the tree with the pink flowers?” You nodded, moving back to the tree, guiding Ominis behind you. You scanned the ground as you walked, not seeing any sign of it. “Not here…” Ominis thought back again, “We visited the fence with the strange mushrooms growing on it, yes?” “That’s right!” The ring wasn’t there either, but Ominis refused to let your hopes down. “I remember you talking about the small pond where those giant toads lived, perhaps it’s there?” The two of you made your way back to the pond, and you searched through the grass. Ominis joined in, sifting through with his fingers, coming up to a round metal object with what felt like a gemstone attached to it. “Here it is!”

“Ominis! You’re a genius!” You shouted, running up to him. Ominis smiled, stretching his hand out. You looked at him, puzzled, not reaching for it as you tried to figure out what he was doing. “Give me your hand, I know you’re not blind.” You chuckled, placing your hand in his. Slowly, he guided the ring back onto your finger, closing your hand with his own. “There, best that we don’t lose it again, yeah?” “Right, thank you so much, Ominis. I have no idea what I would do without you.”

A few weeks had gone by, and the two of you had seemingly gotten closer. You helped each other in class, point out if one of your favourite food was at supper, and take the usual walks, which did not lead to you losing your ring a second time. Ominis had made sure that you wouldn’t, taking your hand with the ring in his as you walked, “A precaution,” Ominis said. You were unsure where you stood with Ominis at that point, unable to tell if you were getting along because you had to, or because you wanted to. You didn’t even know if you actually liked him, thanks to the arraignment; you felt conflicted, unsure if your feelings were real or made up to save face for your families. You weren’t going to ask Ominis how he felt, of course. You pushed the thoughts aside as you walked into the common room, ready to collect Ominis and head to the dining hall.

You looked over to the couch, eyeing where Ominis sat. Beside him sat another student, who had begun to play with her hair as she talked with him. Your eyes narrowed as you walked closer, disgust painting your face as you listened to her awful attempts at flirting. “So, I was thinking. Maybe we could go by the lake? It’s quiet there.” She said, and you glared daggers into the back of her head. Shameless fliting was one thing, shameless flirting with Ominis? A death sentence. Hexes ran through your head, the idea of turning her into a chicken and leaving her in one of the pens stuck out, another, turning her into a toad and leaving her to live with the other toads in the crowded pond. Ominis heard the small noise you made when she tried to get closer, and he smirked. He knew you were there, probably standing behind her as you glared at her, something Sebastian had described to him anytime Poppy would get picked on. You had made it your habit to stand behind your “victims” until they turned around and met your dagger-like gaze, threatening to hex them if they didn’t get out of your sight. Ominis could only imagine what scene was playing out before him, and he broke into a smile. The student took that as a good sign, “I’ll meet you there then.” She got up and turned to grab the book she had placed down, gasping as your presence startled her. “You have to stop sneaking up on people like that, y/n!” Your gaze never broke, “My apologies.”

The girl left, leaving you to huff in annoyance as you waited for Ominis to stand. His smile never left as he slowly got up and walked to you. “It’s quiet there? That’s so stupid! She needs to work on her flirting skills.” You crossed your arms, turning to walk to the door. “Is someone jealous?” You scoffed, as you exited the room, “Why would I?” “We’re supposed to get married, I’m basically your husband already.” You shook your head, pouting. “We’re not married yet, so why should I care?” You walked along the empty hall, the sound of your shoes hitting the cobble echoing around you. Ominis chuckled, “So I can…go to the lake with her tonight, then?” Your cheeks heated up and you began to stutter. “The- the lake? Absolutely not! Why would you-“ You took a breath in and sighed. “Go on then, go have your fun.” You stopped walking, turning to Ominis and crossing your arms. Still smiling, Ominis shrugged his shoulders and turned to walk away, and you huffed in annoyance as your face turned bright red. You quickly grabbed his arm to stop him, “You’re not…actually going to go, are you?” You asked, hanging your head and looking down at your feet. You heard him chuckle, as he turned, guiding his hand up to find your face. “I wouldn’t need to if my wife-to-be would stop being so stubborn.” He felt your cheek burn as you looked up at him, debating what to do.

Without a second thought, you quickly brought your lips together in a quick kiss, hoping that Ominis would understand. You pulled back just as quickly, watching his face heat up just as yours did, a sheepish smile playing on his lips. “There she is.” “Shut up.”

#I like making jokes in the writing #obviously #ominis x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x reader #enemies to lovers #hogwarts legacy imagine #hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt angst #ominis gaunt fluff

898 notes · View notes

munsonthings86 · 1 year

Text

angels and demons

pairing: modern!eddie munson x fem!reader [also rockstar!eddie munson]

summary: who knew corroded coffin's eddie munson had a thing for his publicist's best friend? and who knew she felt the same way toward him?

warnings: "feminine" terms used, a bit of a slow burn, cursing, alcohol, marijuana, mutual pining, strangers to lovers, dirty smut, public sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetration, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, degradation, praise, switch!eddie, switch!reader, no protection (use protection pls)

an: haven't written a fic in over four years but it's 2023 and this man still has a hold on me. so naturally, I decided to revamp and finish this fic that was collecting dust in my drafts. don't copy my shit seeing as it literally took me years to finish. minors dni. everyone else, enjoy.

wc: 11.6k [whoops]

Brushing through the ends of my hair, weeding out the remaining tangles, I kept my attention fixed on my close companion, Avery, as she yammered and rambled on, mainly pertaining to her exhilaration at her birthday ultimately making its arrival after enduring a seemingly endless year.

Working as a well-trusted publicist (doubling as a musician in her downtime), she spent the better part of her days ensuring and upholding the positive reputation of some even the most questionable celebrities.

Though she only entered the field due to her long-lived obsession with the enigmatic, fast-paced celebrity lifestyle, Avery had a deep desire to be the best at her job, rarely delegating time off to care for herself. This was the one time of the year she was free to loosen up, let her hair down, and be the wild spirit she truly was.

She’d exhausted much of her time and patience into planning the celebration, ensuring that no detail was left overlooked.

Perched beside me, she gently caressed a small makeup brush dusted with powder of a petal pink hue across her eyelid. She subconsciously bounced her leg high and low, and an obvious bearing of anxiety painted an unpleasant expression along her features. I soon took notice, resting a comforting hand against her shoulder. “Don’t be so nervous, everything will go as planned. We’ll have tons of fun,” I assured, offering a small smile.

“Thanks, [Y/N]. I just always get nervous about these things. But, yes, we will have tons of fun. Especially you, baby,” she smirks at her own sneakiness. Avery quickly glances at me, throwing a side eye to observe my reaction.

She’d been making sly comments since we’d begun getting ready together, about my impending enjoyment at the party. “Why do you keep doing that? Making those comments? You’re not telling me something, I can tell. You’ve been a bad liar since we were kids,” I reply, returning a face of suspicion.

“Me? Up to something? I don’t think so. Maybe you’re just reading into it too much.” Avery’s eyelids meet quickly before she sprays a mist of setting spray across the surface of her face, using a folding fan to dry her skin of any excess fluid. She runs her slender fingers through her highlighted locks, taking final looks at herself before leaving.

Truthfully, it was nearing two hours since the party actually commenced, but with Avery being who she was, she felt as though being fashionably late was a complete must.

And with me being her right hand, I was compelled to be unreasonably tardy with her.

Avery and I strolled over to the full body mirror mounted on the bedroom’s door, gussying ourselves up, adjusting anything that seemed to be out of place with our appearances.

Avery had a monochromatic outfit of white; a white leather top adorned with a matching skirt covering very little of her body, with white thigh-high boots protecting most of her legs, and a pale lengthy jacket draping her shoulders. She occupied her hand with a small purse, throwing thin black shades over her eyes.

I wore the same style of monochromacy, sporting a candy red velvet cropped tank top, with bellbottom pants of the same material and hue to match. Red chunky platform heels failed to cover much of my feet and my hair sat in place with the help of red hair pins as accessories.

Avery chose the theme of her party to be ‘angels and demons’, urging her invitees to dress in either red or white, depending on which they wanted to be.

She captures multiple pictures of us posing in the mirror for her social media to post later on into the night, avoiding a premature reveal of our outfits for those attending the party, who were still awaiting our arrival. “Come on, babes. Let’s not keep them waiting anymore,” she spoke after saving the images and shoving her phone into her purse.

“You’re telling me,” I rolled my eyes, following her out the entrance. I tread behind Avery down the walkway of the house, carefully, considering my unfamiliarity with wearing heels.

Entering the colossal, midnight-colored Cadillac Escapade Avery rented for the special night, we gave the incredibly patient chauffeur a signal to navigate us to the nightclub. The car slightly shakes after he turns the key in the ignition, switching on the engine.

I wrap the material of the seatbelt around myself, securing my frame to the seat. Avery mimics my actions, peering at me with a sly grin, subsequently. “Oh my gosh, Avery, what are you hiding? You have that look on your face,” I spoke, staring at her doubtfully.

An over-exaggerated expression of dismay morphs her features in reaction to my utterance. “Why do you keep thinking I’m hiding something from you? I’m just doing me,” she laughs, scrolling through her phone, before replying to a text.

“Who’s that,” I ask jokingly, using my fingers to form imaginary binoculars around my eyes, slightly leaning closer. She hurriedly jerks her phone away, out of my sight. “See! I knew you were lying. I always know when you’re plotting something. Now tell me, what is it,” I asked, not letting up on my intense glare.

“Fine, you caught me! But I’m still not saying a word. You’ll just have to find out when we get there,” she replies, maintaining secrecy. “I hate you,” I retort, shaking my head, starting to explore my phone as well.

“Oh, trust me. You’ll be loving me in a minute,” she smiles a wide toothy grin, returning to her phone as I roll my eyes.

The car ride to the hotspot was a rather brief one at the expense of Avery living not too far out from the city, where all the popular clubs of the area were based. Fans and tourists began to congest the streets, jumping in eagerness upon witnessing the immense luxury vehicle arrive. Nearly everyone had their phones glued to their hands, ready to snap pictures and record videos of the birthday girl’s emergence.

The chauffeur was the first to exit the vehicle, unlocking the car door to the right, where I was seated, in order for Avery to crawl out behind me to create suspense.

The door opens as warm air noticeably invades the rather brisk draft in the vehicle, and I step out causing a majority of the crowd to hoot and holler due to their familiarity with me. I politely wave and smile at everyone, still not accustomed to the vast amount of attention I’d received.

The screams of elation and adoration are nothing less than amplified when Avery appears, beaming from one ear to the other. She walks closer to the gathering, leaving them with hugs and kisses in thank you for their support. Meanwhile, I gave my best attempt in avoiding eye contact with the mob, as the bright lights from their cameras made it difficult for my eyes to focus.

“Thank you for the birthday wishes, everyone,” Avery yelled for everyone to be able to hear, blowing kisses to the rest of the crowd who she didn’t have the opportunity to meet with.

It was a mystery how this many people, who didn’t receive a formal invitation, discovered the location of Avery’s celebration, seeing as it was never disclosed on social media by either of us. Or anyone on the invite list, for that matter.

Avery always believed I was only teasing when I theorized that her supporters would excel being undercover detectives based on just how instantaneously they were able to piece things together, but maybe now she’d start actually believing it herself.

I tapped Avery lightly, signaling to her that it was time for us to go inside. She says her final goodbyes to the sea of people outside, locking her arm through mine, the both of us striding inside the already electric building.

[Eddie’s POV]

Gareth, my close friend, and I sat at the bar of the nightclub our publicist, Avery, invited us to, to celebrate her highly anticipated birthday. We, more so I, had ordered drinks to loosen ourselves up considering how apprehensive we normally became attending parties. If I was being utterly transparent, I’d admit that I was only accompanying Gareth along with the rest of Corroded Coffin, simply to meet Avery’s close friend, [Y/N].

Never was I capable of deciphering my infatuation with her, but that’s exactly what was drawing me closer to her. Her mystery, her nature, her mannerisms, her attitude, her body, was a drug in disguise and each time that I looked at or even thought about her, I became more addicted. And the only rehabilitation was to get my first dose.

I was aware of how improper it was to feel such emotions towards someone that I’d never formally met, but like I said, I’m incapable of controlling or explaining it.

The sound of thunderous applause and shouts make it difficult for my thoughts to not be disrupted, somewhat making me displeased, but that was abruptly reformed into ample pleasure at the sight of her. My brain configured an illusion of everyone and everything in the room becoming blurry but keeping her so distinct, so clear.

The way her hips moved with every step she took. The way her clothes clung onto her silky, glowing skin. Even the way she slightly bit her lip as she smiled. Everything about her was so enticing.

My forearm jerked forward at the contact of Gareth’s elbow nudging mine, attaining my attention. Quickly glancing at him, then at the rest of the applauding attendees, I follow suit and cheer Avery on, but keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N]. She shyly smiled and waved at those who took the time to acknowledge her, letting Avery consume the spotlight.

As she began closing the distance between us, greeting those around her, her eyes met my brown ones before I felt a rush of heat proliferate within me. She seemed to have been staggered upon noticing my presence, but my subconscious gave the impression to be ignorant to it, as I sensed the tension in my body heighten.

She looked frantic as she stumbled her way back to Avery’s side, agitatedly whispering in her ear about what seemed to be my attendance. Her fingers moved analogous to that she was playing a piano that wasn’t there, a nervous tendency I’d observed she had. Avery scanned her eyes across the herd of people in my proximity until her pupils landed on me before a smirk crept onto her face in satisfaction.

She messaged me earlier, nearly begging me to attend the party, to which I denied on multiple occasions. Upon putting full thought on the subject, I inquired about [Y/N]’s possible appearance, deciding that I’d only go if she would as well. And already, before the night has even had the chance to begin, I was enjoying myself.

“You’ve got to stop looking at her like that, Eddie,” Gareth commented, shaking his head, almost disappointedly at me. I softly chuckled at him and took another swig of the beer in the glass cup before replying. “Looking at her like what?”

He returns my questions with a knowing look, “Like you want to eat her.”

“I kinda do.”

[Y/N]’s POV]

A sudden wave of uneasiness washes over me, as butterflies in my stomach began to flutter about, upon my eyes meeting his own. Only Avery knew of my slight obsession with him and taking into consideration just how much Eddie was reluctant to attend parties, I conspired that this had to have been Avery’s doing. I stumbled my way over to her side, pulling her closer to me to avoid bystanders possibly eavesdropping.

“Avery, why is Eddie Munson here? And more importantly, why didn’t you tell me about it? You said none of your clients were gonna be here,” I whispered, agitatedly.

Her eyes scanned through the cluster of people in our area, until they landed on Eddie, a smirk crawling its way onto her face. My fingers wiggle about, as it was a nervous mannerism of mine before I used them to poke Avery to get her to stop drawing Eddie’s attention our way, though I seemed to be doing that all on my own. Through the corner of my eye, I noticed his attentiveness shift to his bandmate who’d begun conversing with him.

“Oh, come on, don’t act mad. You’ve been practically obsessed with him for so long now. Even before he became one of my clients. This may seem bad to you, but trust me, this is a blessing in disguise. Actually, it isn’t in disguise at all, I mean do you see him? That man is so pretty. You better get him before I do,” Avery teased, taking a sip of whatever drink it was she had in her cup.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve dressed way better,” I said, wistfully, lowering my eyes to my feet.

“Girl, you look amazing. With you looking like that, he’ll be all over you tonight,” she winked at me before her eyes grew wide. “Alright, be cool. He’s coming over here.”

“Bitch, what,” I whispered forcefully as full-fledged panic invaded my body, running from my head down to my painted toes. Smoothing out the non-existent wrinkles on my pants, I let out a short breath, giving Avery a nervous smile, turning to meet Eddie.

Words escape my brain as I nearly bump into him, drunk partygoers’ uncoordinated stumbling along to the loud music nudging our bodies closer together. His warm, glossy brown eyes bore into mine, eyelids low from what I presume is caused by marijuana and alcohol intoxication. His wild curly hair drapes over his shoulders, perfectly framing his face as he stares at me, lips slightly parted. Fiddling with the bulky silver rings consuming his fingers, which I soon become distracted by, he flashes a smile, extending a friendly hand.

“Hi, I’m Eddie,” his calloused fingers softly scratch against mine as he shakes my hand. “You must be [Y/N].” I furrow my eyebrows, perplexed as to how he knew my name and general existence. I was more than aware of the fact that Eddie had a dislike for social media and had no known public accounts; information that I later thanked Avery for acquiring. Unless Avery had been in Eddie’s ear acting as my wing-woman, there really was no other explanation as to how he knew of me.

Looking back at Avery tight-lipped, knowing that my theory of her attempting to play cupid was not just merely suspicions but instead reality, she shrugs, smiling before taking a sip of her drink. “Yeah,” I awkwardly smile, dusting my hands off on my clothes.

Normally, conversation came easily to me. Rarely did I ever find myself speechless. But with Eddie standing inches away from me, wavy bangs curtaining his eyes, red leather jacket thrown over a white shirt that left his happy trail exposed, and a prodigious belt holding up tight black pants that left little to the imagination, it was practically impossible to conjure up a coherent sentence.

My eyes trail from his doe eyes to the short stubble growing on his chin, down to the pearl necklace clasped firmly around his slender neck along with several other lower hanging silver necklaces, one that held a black guitar pick with white lettering, ‘CC’. Corroded Coffin, I presume. There, a conversation starter. “You play for Corroded Coffin, right?”

“Yeah, for my whole life basically. Feels like yesterday we were playing for our middle school talent show. I play lead guitar, sing a few of our songs,” he smiles, crossing his arms across his chest. I know, trust me I know is what I’m desperate to say. I definitely was not ignorant of Eddie or his talents.

“I’ve heard some of you guys’ music before. Good stuff. Great stuff,” I blink, evading eye contact as if Eddie was Medusa himself. Truthfully, that’s who he might as well be. The moment my eyes meet his, I’ll freeze, forgetting how to function, essentially turning into stone.

From what the corner of my eye is able to make out, Eddie’s features only brighten at my compliment, yelling over the music, “Thanks, I didn’t take you for a metalhead.”

“Oh, yeah. You know. Big fan,” I mentally slap my forehead, wanting needing nothing more than to be put out of my misery. God, could I be more awkward? I need a drink. ASAP.

My body is now at the mercy of the crowd, the tempo of the music increasing, causing everyone to pick up their pace as well, shoving whoever wasn’t dancing out of the way. A visible look of frustration and discomfort contorts my face, the dead middle of the dance floor being my least favorite spot at parties.

“Hey, do you wanna come meet the guys? It’s a little quieter in our section,” Eddie points over to the lounge area, recognizing my distress at the position I found myself in. I peer over my shoulder towards Avery who I notice has wandered off to greet some of her guests. Closing my eyes, I muster up the courage to accept his offer before turning to face him again.

“Sure.”

He smiles contentedly, extending his hand once again, though this time, it’s not for me to shake. It’s to hold as he navigates us through the busy crowd. Though I hesitate at first only because I know my hands are sweaty, I lay my hand in his own. It’s a warm and firm grip, a safe and almost familiar feeling, like a good hug on a bad day. Sweaty bodies crash into ours as we cut through the mob, the sight of the lounge looking like a haven in this chaotic atmosphere.

“Boys, this is [Y/N]. [Y/N] meet Gareth our drummer, Jeff, electric guitarist, and Grant, he plays electric bass,” Eddie points them out, leading me up the stairs to the seating area, security guards lining the perimeter.

Politely waving at the men who were either busy rolling blunts or sipping their drinks, I smile, mildly starstruck, “Hi. I was telling Eddie I’m a fan of you guys’ music.”

Mumbles of gratitude are barely heard over the thumping music but nonetheless well received. Already nervous with Eddie’s presence alone, I was predominantly satisfied that his bandmates were too intoxicated to conduct a conversation themselves.

Perching on the black, plush sectional couch, I cross my legs as Eddie plops himself down next to me, our knees slightly grazing each other.

[Eddie’s POV]

The bare skin of my knee peeking out from my ripped jeans kisses the soft velvet material of the flared pants perfectly hugging her legs. The accidental touch somehow creates more tension in my body, if that were even possible. Clouds of smoke from the multiple joints going in rotation fill the air, blurring her features as the vapor crawls its way in our direction, causing me to slightly frown.

I wave a hand, banishing the smoke from near her before speaking, “Sorry about that. My bandmates seem to forget their manners when we’re out.” A disapproving side eye is all I throw their way prior to diverting my gaze back to her as she lets out a small laugh. “It’s okay, I don’t mind.”

A smile tugs at the corners of my lips relieved that my uncouth friends weren’t a bother to her. Running my hands over my knees, I watch the lights from the oscillating ceiling lamps ghost over her, illuminating her delicate skin.

She surveyed the party, eyes smiling from her cheeks once she spotted her friend dancing wildly near the bar where I previously sat. Her long eyelashes fanned her cheeks with each slow blink she made, pupils lit brighter than any light in the room. While watching Avery enjoy herself, her plump, glossed lips were caught in a wide, unfaltering smile that made my chest tight. She was truly beautiful.

Catching myself staring at her, shamelessly indulging in her unfair beauty, I quickly lick my lips upon finding that they’ve run dry. “She talks about you a lot, you know. Avery,” I nod my head back in her direction, keeping my eyes fixed on [Y/N].

“Yeah?” she questions, shifting her warm gaze back to me; a gaze so warm it makes me melt. I furrow my eyebrows, grinning, “Hell yeah! She’s like a proud mom showin’ off her kids’ art projects. Has pictures of you two in her office and everything.”

[Y/N] glances down at her feet, a shy yet amused expression pulling at her visage. “Does that surprise you?”

"No,” she responds, shaking her head hurriedly. “I mean, I guess it doesn’t. We’ve been friends for what feels like forever. We’re sisters, basically, attached at the hip.” I chuckle, recalling Avery saying something very similar to that in the text messages she sent earlier.

She’s my sister, Munson. If you mess this up, that’ll be the end of you.

Sitting so close to [Y/N] now, listening to her talk, breathing in her fruity perfume that purified the air every time she made the slightest movement, I’ll do everything in my power to not mess this up. I’ll be damned if I do.

“Do you have someone like that?” she asks, carefully adjusting her body to properly face me. Following suit, I rest my elbow on the back of the couch, anchoring my leg in the space between us, clasping my fingers. “Uh,” I begin, poking my cheek with my tongue, beginning to laugh.

“There’s this kid, met him in high school. Total butthead,” I chuckle, toying with my rings.

“His name’s Dustin, we played a lot of D&D together. Since I’ve kinda had to move around with the band in recent years and he’s in his second year of college, we haven’t been able to hang out like we used to. But I always joke that he’s basically my kid. He actually called me a few nights ago asking me and the guys to come perform at his school.”

Listening attentively, she raises her eyebrows, “Yeah? Are you gonna do it?”

“I actually told him no, just to mess with him,” I joke, earning a laugh from her, the sound filling my ears and body with great fervor. Cute laugh. “But yeah, I’m definitely gonna do it, try to surprise him or somethin’.”

“That’s great,” she smiles. “Sounds like you two are close. It must be hard not being able to be with some of your friends and having to tour constantly, but I’m sure there are upsides.”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Ever since I picked up a guitar for the first time, I knew that just playing music every night in front of thousands of people was what I wanted to do,” I reply happily, finally being able to talk about my passion and those who were important to me with someone I was interested in.

Being in the limelight, it was too easy to get used to groupies and opportunists who weren’t truly interested in who I was as a person. All it ever felt like was what pleasure could I bring to them. What they could take advantage of. How they could manipulate me. [Y/N] was the breath of fresh air I’ve been craving in this polluted Hollywood lifestyle.

“Now your dream's a reality,” she reassures.

“That it is. Now tell me about you; I heard you’re a fashion designer,” I poke at her arm, beaming down at her. Her cheeks flush as she breaks eye contact, pulling at the fabric of her clothes.

“I’d hardly call it that. I just make and sell clothes for whoever’s crazy enough to buy them,” she chuckles shyly. Stray hairs find asylum against the skin of her cheek, and I have to fight the urge to tuck them away. They almost distract me before she continues.

“It took me forever just to make Avery and I’s outfits for tonight. Had it been someone else asking me to design it, I probably would have given up. Donatella Versace, Christian Dior- they are fashion designers. And I am not them.” A rather serious expression calls for my face to distort.

“Hey, go easy. Comparing yourself to people has never worked out well for anyone. I haven’t known you for more than an hour but I’m sure you’re great at what you do. I mean, the proof is there,” I point at her. “If you’re serious about making the outfits, you did a damn good job.”

“Yeah?” she smiles.

“Definitely. I mean, I dig the all red. You look like a little Hellfire demon,” I bite my lip, surprising myself with how loud I was talking, as Grant and Jeff laugh knowingly.

However, [Y/N] remained adorably clueless, “What’s Hellfire?”

“Eh, another story for another day. But I’m serious. I might have to hire you to design some of our threads for our gigs coming up. Lord knows these fashionistas need your help,” I laugh, mumbling the last bit to her, causing the sweetest giggle to pass her lips. Cute laugh.

“Cute laugh,” my brain thinks, and my lips speak all at once. The filter between thought and actual verbalization had come crashing down in that very moment, unapologetically.

I curse myself mentally, afraid that she’d think I was being too forward, though I’d be in no position to blame her if she did. Much to my surprise, like earlier, her smile is unfaltering as she responds, “You think so?”

I return that same smile, nodding, eyes squinted in delight, “Cute everything.”

[Y/N’s POV]

Just like that, I’m sure my face is as red, if not, even redder than a tomato. Eddie was not at all what I thought he’d be.

With him being a well-known rockstar whose popularity was only increasing by the minute, I had no reservations he’d be an egotistical nightmare, expecting everything and everyone to fall at his feet. Surprisingly he’s done nothing but be agonizingly sweet and a perfect gentleman, adding to his attractiveness.

Constantly dealing with arrogant people who were famous, or worse, thought they were famous, had led to some degree of emotional damage. Eddie was refreshing.

“Thanks,” I hum, trapping a small part of my bottom lip between my teeth, once again avoiding eye contact at all costs. The little bit of courage I’d built up over the course of our conversation crumbled at his compliment, words ultimately escaping me though many thoughts were circulating in my mind haphazardly.

I’m again at his mercy, silently begging him to stop being so alluring but also needing him to continue doing just that.

Before I realize I’m sitting silently, deep in thought, Eddie chimes in, “You doin’ alright there, princess?”

God. Why’d you have to say that?

Princess. I could practically feel my features soften at the term of endearment, the name sounding so heavenly and warm falling from Eddie’s lips. I shamelessly yearn to hear him say it again.

“Uh, yeah, sorry. I’m glad you like the red.”

“Yeah, I couldn’t help but notice you chose to go as a devil tonight,” he smirks, eyes scanning over my body. “Didn’t take you as anything other than angelic.” I’m not sure if it’s a pickup line, but it does a well enough job of sparking the tiniest bit of bravery in me. “I’m full of surprises,” returning his smirk, I gesture to his clothes.

“But I see you have on red and white.”

“Oh, would you look at that,” he teases, lifting the sides of his jacket, examining his attire. The action lures my eyes to fixate on his toned stomach, the white shirt that appeared to be cut with a pair of scissors hid much of his chest but little of his lower torso.

Eddie wasn’t ripped, as he played guitar for a living. He didn’t have a six-pack or a chiseled ‘v’ line, but his stomach was rather firm and tight, sprinkled with small tattoos.

“Can’t be both an angel and a devil,” I resume.

“No?”

“Nope. So, which one are you?” I implore, crossing my arms. He leans in impossibly closer, his breath, an aroma of beer and spearmint, fans the shell of my ear, “You’ll just have to find out, won't you?” He returns his head to its original position, sending a devilish grin my way, precious dimples making the loveliest indentations on his face.

With my lips fallen open, goosebumps erupt along my arms and neck at his suggestive comment. He seems to take notice of the way my body reacts to cheekiness; the charming smirk plastered on his face triggers the butterflies in my stomach. Was Eddie Munson flirting with me? Or is he this flirtatious with everyone he came in contact with?

Deep in the unruly mob, I spot Avery shoving through drunk and high individuals, some being both, gravitating towards the bar presumably to get herself another shot of her favorite liquor. A light bulb goes off in my mind.

“I’m gonna take a shot with the birthday girl. Do you want anything from the bar?” I ask, uncrossing my legs.

“I should be the one buying you drinks, don't you think? Chivalry isn’t quite dead yet,” Eddie retorts, leaning over in his seat to reach the glass table before us. He grabs rolling papers along with a grinder for his weed, beginning to roll himself a spliff.

Rising from the couch, I laugh, beginning to descend the stairs leading to the main level, “Like I said, full of surprises. Besides I get free drinks tonight, being the birthday girl’s best friend and all.”

Elbows resting on his knees, he hides the tip of the joint between his lips before igniting the other end with a chrome vintage lighter, seemingly engraved with his initials. It’s an effortless yet immensely captivating action, his eyebrows pulled together as he takes a slow pull. It takes everything in me to defeat the temptation to throw myself at him.

“Well, aren't you a lucky girl,” he exhales, a trail of smoke escaping his lips.

“So, what do you say? Drink? No drink?”

“Nah, I’m alright, sweetheart. Don’t be gone too long,” he jokes, dusting off the building-up ash on his joint. Out of courtesy, he passes it to Jeff who blindly accepts.

“Why? You gonna miss me?” I smirk, heels landing on the final step before strolling to where the alcohol resides. “Somethin’ like that,” he mutters under his breath, though Gareth hears this, snickering at how smitten his bandmate was.

“Let me get a double shot of tequila,” I hear Avery yell over the bassy dance music thumping through the speakers. The bartender gives her a stiff nod, placing a large shot glass in front of her.

“Make that two shots,” I add, sitting down next to her as she turns to face me. Her eyes grow wide as she anticipates all the gossip I have to offer. She looks over to where Eddie is sat, though she quickly diverts her eyes back to me, to which I assume is due to him already looking in our direction.

I open my mouth, ready to unload everything that’s been said between me and Eddie during the time that’s elapsed. She stops me momentarily, however, picking up the tequila-harboring glasses that the bartender left for our indulgence.

Throwing my head back, the alcohol burns the back of my throat to which I make a face as I’m not that much of a drinker. Avery on the other hand, takes the shot like a pro, barely flinching as she swallows, “Alright, hit me.”

“Where do I begin?” I sigh, smiling nervously, “I mean, I don’t know, he seems sweet. Definitely not an asshole like some guys I’ve met, that’s for sure. I just can’t tell if he’s flirting with me because he likes me or if he’s flirting because that’s how he makes conversation.”

“Well, he doesn’t flirt with me. I can tell you that much,” she counters, raising a hand, signaling for another drink.

“That’s different, you’re his publicist,” I frown, swinging my legs that dangled from the stool I was perched on. The people I found myself dating in the past few months were either draining or deceitful, some a distasteful mixture of both and then some. I couldn’t imagine that a famous rockstar with the world at his fingertips was interested in me.

Letting out a lingering sigh, Avery slides another shot my way, some alcohol flying out the glass and crashing onto the wood. She places both of her hands on my shoulders, forcing me to meet her gaze.

I know she’s reading my mind, so easily being able to tell that insecurities were invading my brain, stopping me from going after something I wanted. “Listen, I’ve been in every setting imaginable with that guy, okay? And I’ve never seen him smile as much as he has while talking with you. He likes you. You like him. Now take that shot and let’s go dance.”

Her sentiment draws my lips into a smile. She was truly my cheerleader whenever I needed the motivation. Furrowing my brows, I down my second shot, the warmth scattering through my chest. “Go dance? Shouldn’t I get back to Eddie?” I ask, silently thanking the bartender as I stand up.

“You’ll reunite with your man soon, don’t worry. He’s been staring at you since you got over here. Let’s give him a show, yeah?” she smirks devilishly, wiping the dripping liquor from her pigmented lips. Catching her drift, I nod, grabbing her hand as I walk us to the dance floor.

At the sight of Avery, people make room for us to migrate freely, as we find a comfortable, open spot to park ourselves and begin grooving to the music. Letting go of Avery’s hand, I move my head, slowly starting to feel the music. The warmth in my chest from the consecutive shots loosens my body, elevating my confidence.

Though I tended to be a wallflower at parties, dancing with my best friend, liquid courage flowing through me, and oh-so-enticing Eddie Munson eyeing me, I’ve never felt more inclined to become possessed by the rhythm.

The beat flows down into my shoulders as they begin to subconsciously move side to side, my hips following suit. I close my eyes, completely wallowing in the melody of the song blaring through the amplifiers.

Give him a show. Avery’s words loiter in my head as I run my hands along my sides until they’re in the air, minds of their own. My body sways smoothly similar to a snake slithering its way to its prey. In this moment, Eddie Munson was my prey.

I spin around, carefully, as I’m tipsy and in five-inch heels. Believe me, I would’ve chosen better shoes had I known that I’d be in this position, dancing my little heart out. Bodies collide with mine as everyone’s movements become wilder, the song transitioning to one of a higher pace.

My hips compliment the music, rocking steadily before I feel someone else’s hip press against mine. I don’t even have to turn around before I know who it is; the satisfied look on Avery's face and the feeling of long, soft hair pressing against my skin serves as a good enough clue.

“Miss me already?” my hips don’t stop moving, if anything, their movements deepen, grinding against him.

“Hi angel,” he responds, the scent of the weed he just smoked staining his clothes. His hands rest just above my waist, testing the waters. Feeling the music too, he follows my rhythm swaying behind me.

“No, I’m a devil, remember? See,” I point to my ensemble. “Hellfire demon,” I recall, giggling.

He chuckles, amused, as his hands lower. I feel something firm prodding at the curve of my backside, the tightness of Eddie’s jeans not doing much to conceal his arousal. “You are right about one thing. You, little missy, are full of surprises.”

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” he nods slowly, resting his head on my shoulder, craning his neck to look into my eyes, weakening my knees. Though the lighting in the club is borderline nonexistent, Eddie’s eyes were close enough to mine that I could see his pupils were blown, eyes dark with desire.

“You got any surprises for me?” I turn around to face him, immediately missing the way his hips felt against mine. Wrapping my arms around his neck, feeling his hair blanket my hands, he bites his lip, grinning before speaking. “A few.”

“Show me,” the smile on my face drops, the need to be alone with him becoming overwhelming. The alcohol running through my veins did nothing to steady my increasing heart rate. The heat that was once in my chest traveled down between my thighs, as the arousal that Eddie was experiencing was more than reciprocated.

Instead of a verbal response, his hands trail up my arm to my hand as he grasps it, pulling me to where the bathrooms were. I look back at Avery to alert her that I’d be gone for a bit, though she’s already well aware, giving me a thumbs up and sending me a wink.

The hallways leading to the bathroom are lit brighter than any other area in the club, causing me to squint my eyes, trying to adjust to the light. The floors are a shiny, coal-black tile with walls of the same color, covered with intricate designs and patterns.

“Shit,” he pauses, hitting a fork in the road.

“What?”

“Which one should we go in?” he asks, gesturing between the men’s and women’s bathrooms, stumped. Rolling my eyes and letting out a small chuckle, I push open the door to the women’s bathroom, expecting that it’s cleaner than the men's bathroom, which was almost always the case in any public establishment.

Eddie follows closely behind me, shoving the door shut subsequently. His sneakers squeak against the tile floor as he hurriedly grips my waist, hoisting me onto the edge of the sink. It’s wet to the touch from people drunkenly washing their hands not too long ago, but I’m too captivated in the scene moment care. Flinging my arms around Eddie’s neck, ready to crash my lips against his own, he pulls away faintly.

“Wait. Are you sure you wanna do this? I know you had a bit to drink,” he mentions, resting his hands on either side of me. His forehead is almost pressed against mine as my thumb strokes at the nape of his neck, at which his eyes flutter closed.

Beaming up at him, I sweep his hair out of his face and over his shoulder. He allows my hand to linger on his cheek as I speak, “I promise, I’m okay. I’m a little tipsy, but I swear I want this. I want you.”

I have for a while now is what my mouth wants to add as some sort of cherry on top, but not even the tequila or the heat of the moment could pull that out of me.

I didn’t want to admit to Eddie that the thought of him had been wandering in my mind since I’d randomly come across his music about a few years ago. He had to deal with overzealous, obsessive fans on a regular basis and I didn't want to give him the impression that I was no different from them.

“Do you wanna do this?” I whisper, lightly scratching at his scalp under my fingertips. He breathes out before fully allowing his forehead to fall onto mine.

He finally opens his eyes, the gates of his eyelids slowly unveiling the tender and sultry pool of chocolate brown. “Of course, I do, I just wanna make sure you really want this,” he sighs as I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer.

Eyes lowering, I notice Eddie’s lips are chapped. Not the kind of chapped that was uninviting and distasteful. The kind of chapped that was endearing; the kind that made me want to do nothing more than to wet them with my own.

“I do,” I mumble against his mouth hurriedly, before drawing his head towards mine, our lips colliding. Eddie doesn’t hesitate, attacking my puckered lips with his ravenous ones. His head moves wildly, repeatedly switching sides to devour my lips from all angles, almost making it hard to keep up with him. My fingers get tangled in his jungle of hair while his tongue begins to nudge at mine.

As our hands begin to mindlessly explore each other’s chests and stomachs, quiet moans escape our throats. My heels dig further into the back of Eddie’s thighs as his warm hands settle onto my neck, lightly squeezing.

A deep groan rumbles from his chest at my hand snaking down his body, fingers dangerously lingering by his belt buckle. Much to my dismay, his lips abandon mine that are still starved, however, my disappointment is short-lived, as he peppers kisses along my cheek, venturing down to my neck. “You wanna know somethin’?” he mutters onto my skin, hand nor lips leaving the pulsing area.

“What?” I sigh, as he begins gently tugging at the skin with his teeth, wrapping his lips around it shortly after. “You were turning me on so much dancing out there like that,” he answers, voice low.

He kisses me again, this time with slow and calculated movements. His lips are still eager as are mine, but his actions are more sensual this time. More passionate. I take the risk, lowering my fingers to his growing erection if it could even grow any more-- how big it was. Responding just the way I wanted him to, he moans into my mouth, slightly grinding his hips into my hand. “Yeah?” I whisper, breathlessly.

“Mhm,” he hums, slowly nodding his head while running his hands up and down my legs, kindling small shocks through me. His touch was so simple but so intimate, paying attention to every curve and crevice that made up my body. The beautiful sounds of pleasure leaving his glossy lips egg me on, encouraging me to speed up the work my hand was giving him. “Turning me on so much now,” he finishes, dropping his head back in rapture.

Like a moth to a flame, I take advantage of the opportunity to sprinkle both small, soft pecks and heated, open-mouth kisses along one of the many prominent veins decorating his neck. His body reacts instinctively, as he groans, beginning to trace along the waistband of my pants. As if his body was a magnet, my hips chase him at the ticklish sensation, begging for some sort of relief.

Feeling his erection throbbing in his jeans, my hands yank at his belt unapprovingly. I give his neck a break from my lips only to look down at his waist, desperately trying to free him from the constraints. His nose bumps mine harshly when he chases my lips, slipping his tongue into my mouth.

Undoing the latch, he gets bored of walking the tightrope of my waistband, ultimately hooking his fingers over my pants, pulling them down to my ankles and over my heels. Goosebumps disrupt the smoothness of my skin as the crisp air filling the bathroom settles onto my bare legs. His belt falls with a soft clank, my discarded pants being a cushion for its soft landing.

He smirks, amused at my black lace underwear, running a curious finger along the slit of my heat. It’s such a gentle, almost ghost-like touch that I would’ve missed had I not been intently watching him the way I was now. Unbuttoning and lowering the zipper to his pants, I grab him by one of the many loops along the waist of his pants, forcing his hips against mine.

Tightening my legs that clung together just below his torso, I grind my pelvis onto his erection, begging for some sort of friction.

“Such a dirty fucking girl,” he smiles, hands blanketing my ass, guiding my hips that were shamelessly helping me relieve the tension I felt in my body. My moans are hard to suppress as his eyes don’t leave mine, mumbling quiet coaxes.

“God, I can feel how wet you are,” he groans, “need to taste you, princess.” After I whisper a soft “please”, he stops my hips in place, ridding my needy core of my underwear, nearly tearing the flimsy fabric.

Freeing himself from the restraints of my legs, he kneels down, eyes meeting the place I needed him most. He wraps his strong arms around my thighs, throwing them over his shoulders. I can feel his hair tickling my inner thighs as he bites his lips hungrily, adjusting himself between my legs.

My fingers find his scalp and tug lightly on the roots of his tresses when he starts planting quick pecks around my heat, teasing me. “I love how wet you are for me. Can’t wait to taste that pretty fucking pussy,” he smiles, eyes never leaving my sex. He wets his lips one more time until his eyes rest on mine, licking a solid stripe along the slit of my entrance.

Pulling harder at his hair at the sudden sensation, I let out a loud moan as my eyes screwed shut. His tongue easily finds my clit, gently teasing and sucking at the small bud. With the way he squeezes tighter on my thighs, securing me in place, I’m sure bruises are to be left behind. I don’t mind though as I knew it would serve as a visual reminder of the way he could make me feel with only his tongue.

As his movements against my clit begin to quicken, my thighs begin shaking and my moans are nothing but intensified. In any other given situation, I’d be more cautious of bystanders who had to listen to my sounds of pleasure, but with the breathtaking feeling of Eddie’s wet tongue devouring all of my most sensitive spots, it was incredibly hard to think straight.

He pushes my legs back against my chest wanting to get a better angle at me. He nearly dedicates his entire face to pleasuring my core, nose poking at my clit, while his lips and tongue flick at my pussy. The only part of his face he leaves for my eyes to feast upon are his brown-turned-black lust-filled pupils. I yearn to keep our eyes connected but it's damn near impossible with the feeling of a knot building up in my stomach.

“That feel good princess?” I nod my head urgently, feeling the vibrations from his speaking tickling my clit. I want to speak so that he could hear just how good he was making me feel, but I figure my moans could suffice. He smirks once I whine at his lips leaving my wetness.

His fingers replace where his mouth once was, rubbing slow circles along my clit, watching my face morph back into one of complete ecstasy. He trails his digits down to my hole, slipping them in without warning.

As my thighs squeeze around his head as he repeatedly hits my G-spot with curled fingers, pushing me further to the edge. Eddie, Eddie, Eddie are the only words my lips are able to utter. His rings are cold but gradually warming up as he fucks me deep with his fingers. “You gonna cum for me, pretty girl?” he snickers, upon feeling my walls clenching around his fingers.

“Yes, yes. Please let me cum. Please let me cum,” I beg, sensing the amount of pleasure I'm able to take being at its peak. He watches me intently as he slows his fingers down, leisurely dragging them from out of me. Frustrated, I drop my head back against the mirror, letting out a heavy sigh. I let go of his hair as he rises from the tiled ground, smiling apologetically, yet, mischievously at me.

“I know, baby, I know. But I promise,” he kneads my thighs, pressing his lips onto mine, letting me taste myself on his lips. “I’m gonna take such good care of you,” he finishes, bringing his arousal-soaked fingers up to his mouth and licking them clean.

Momentarily, my eyes fixate on the bathroom door that was carelessly unlocked, not much of a barrier between this impromptu dalliance and the unsuspecting clubgoers just a few feet away. Had it not been for the thumping music blaring from the speakers, people within a mile radius would have been able to detect my needy whimpers.

I’m not too Eddie-drunk for it to click in my head that a person of Eddie’s status being caught in a moment like this could instantly be plastered on the internet and every news blog. If it were just me and some random guy, anyone would just turn heel and carry on, but Eddie being who he was, it wasn’t immediately obvious whether to take the risk or not. “Someone could see us,” I point with a limp finger, body still weak from being on the verge of release.

Content with just how easy it was to practically ruin me with only his mouth and fingers, he grins before uttering, “I know. I don’t care. If I have to be seen like this, I wanna be seen like this with you.”

A rush of heat goes to my cheeks at his words that seem genuine. I was accustomed to guys saying whatever they believed I wanted to hear just to get something they wanted out of me. But there was something so different about Eddie. His eyes glimmered with a golden light of sincerity and awe that even the darkest parts of my cynical heart couldn’t help but be illuminated by.

“I can stop if you really-”

Hooking my arm around his neck, I pull his head down to press my puckered lips against his own that were still mid-sentence. He couldn’t be more alluring like this. Being the perfect gentleman, easing the worries floating in my head, and treating me so well, was just the icing on the cake that was his personality and looks. Right now, the one thing on my mind was to treat him just as good.

My hands rush to push his pants down and over his erection, leaving merely his ankles to be clothed by the black denim. His print is so obvious, so taunting that it leads me to palm his hard-on through his deliciously tight boxers, moaning into our passionate kiss as I feel how big he is.

His cock twitches at my fingers grazing over the covered skin of his tip which also lures a hearty groan out of Eddie’s lips. A dull cloud passes Eddie’s pupils as the golden light previously lighting up his eye dims, and he becomes blinded by a dark hue of lust.

His arms work to rid themselves of his form-fitting leather jacket, letting it to the floor thoughtlessly, his shirt follows soon after. Hiking up my small crop top, his hands waste no time in cupping my breasts, perfectly squeezing and massaging its flesh. An amused expression befalls my flushed face at the way his moans and grunts of pleasure fall so heavily from his lips as my hand steadily rubs long, slow strokes at his length.

“Oh, you like teasing me, huh?”

Letting out a small laugh, I nod, responding, “Yeah.” His mouth latching onto one of my nipples interrupts me, my breath hitching in my throat at the sudden contact. “Turns me on s-so much hearing you moan like that,” I manage to choke out while two of his fingers toy with my lonely nipple that couldn’t yet feel the wonders of his tongue.

“Yeah?” he takes my hands, placing them over my head and against the mirror, using his free hand to tug his boxers down. He groans, cock no longer being restricted by his underwear, and it's only then I notice the precum threatening to spill from his tip. It requires an immense amount of self-control to not reach down and spread it over the smoothness of his tip and shaft, but I manage.

“I want you so bad, princess. Fuck,” he mumbles, taking a hold of himself to tap against my clit. My entrance begins to throb as if it could sense Eddie was near, so close to stretching me in all the best ways. “You want my cock to fill up your slutty little pussy?”

I shake my head a desperate yes, whimpering. Snaking my legs around his waist in hopes of pulling him right into me, he clicks his tongue, tilting his head disapprovingly. “I’m sorry but I’m gonna have to hear you say it. Tell me you want my cock to stretch you so good until you can’t think of anything except me and what my cock is doin’ to you,” he drawls slipping only his tip inside of me, but just as fast as it enters, is just how fast it’s gone again.

He does this repeatedly as he patiently waits for my mind and lips to conjure something up.

With the way the snarky grin tugging on his lips was unwavering, I could tell he got a rise out of teasing me. There was a way his voice deepened when he spoke such untamed things. A way his usual pleasant expression turned to that of a stoic one. It was such a stark difference from what I’d seen of his normal personality. This side of Eddie was just another side I was more than excited to explore and indulge in.

“Please, Eddie. I want you s-so bad. Want your cock inside me. Please, I wanna cum all over that cock. Pl-”

My mouth is still rambling, begging Eddie for some degree of relief before the words soon melt into loud whines of satisfaction at Eddie finally slipping into me fully, in all his length and girth glory. Eddie’s mouth falls open as his breath catches in his throat, feeling his cock slide in with ease. He traps his tongue in between his teeth hoping to conceal his moans but that ultimately fails him as I clench around him, inviting him in.

Groaning, he rests his forehead against mine, never letting his eyes depart from mine that were struggling to stay open. He sighs, shaking his head before breathing out, “God, you’re so fucking wet, I just slip right in. Such a good little whore for me.”

I let out a moan, though I’m not sure whether it was from his words or the slow, yet hard thrusts he was giving me. Nonetheless, it felt too good to keep quiet. Eddie takes his time with his movements, unhurriedly dragging his length out of my warmth before slamming his pelvis back into mine. It was toe-curling.

Above me, Eddie was babbling a string of curse words, tattoo-adorned chest heaving.

Each drive made his muscles flex, evoking the pads of my fingers to trace his freckled skin. Beads of sweat began to build a film on our skin, but as we kept bumping and rubbing and caressing, it grew difficult to tell whether it was my sweat or his making my skin slick.

He traps one of my nipples between his teeth, delicately nibbling and sucking on the sensitive bud. I cup his head firmly against my chest as my vision blurs, eyelids sailing down. He curled his hips up in a way that made it too easy for him to hit my G-spot with every stroke.

Echoes of our moans and eager bodies recklessly colliding were the only sounds I could hear anymore. Up in the heaven of bliss, anything that wasn’t Eddie faded into the void of my subconscious, seizing to exist. There was nothing outside of this moment.

Eddie grips the side of my cheek, thumb pressed on the soft skin under my eye, peppering kisses on the bone of my jaw. As he nears the lobe of my ear, lips nudging my earrings, he stutters yes yes yes yes, plunging achingly deeper. Whimpers and mewls spill uncontrollably at the feeling of him stretching me so wide and deep.

“You take my cock so well, baby,” he sighs, words scattered by his restless motions. “Such a slut for me, aren’t you?”

“Fuck, fuck, fu-, fuck yes, yes, Eddie yes,” words stumble gracelessly past my lips as I become a dumb moaning mess on Eddie’s cock. His toasty hand exposes my cheek to the chillness of the air, as his fingers take the liberty of rubbing my clit. He uses two, maybe three (who cares it felt good all the same), of his digits to massage my core soothingly; a pace that was a wild contrast to the pace his hips were going.

The mixture of pleasures makes the knot in my stomach unbearable as I grew desperate for a release.

Doing my best to roll my hips against his, hoping to meet his thrusts, he looks at me smirking, well aware of what I was trying to do. “’M gonna cum soon. Please let me cum,” I plead, eyebrows furrowing. Eddie dives in for a kiss, lips salty with perspiration.

“Yeah? You wanna cum, princess? You wanna cum all over my dick?” he asks, using both hands to grip my sides, slamming into me.

Yes, yes. Please let me cum, Eddie.

His glossy cock, drenched in my arousal throbbed and twitched as it brushed perfectly against my walls faithfully. He looked down at where our bodies connected, loving the way we made a mess out of each other. My arms wrap around his neck to pull him unavailingly nearer. Gripping the flesh of my ass and thighs, he lifts me slightly off the sink, rocking my hips along the length of his shaft, humping into me simultaneously.

My moans turn into short gasps as I feel my descent into a pool of euphoria nearing. “That feels so fucking good. That feels so fuckin’ good,” I whine, running my nails across his back. With Eddie's hands sprawling my body, I became fully consumed by him. There was nothing that I could touch except Eddie, smell except Eddie, see, hear, and taste except Eddie.

“Yeah?” he asks, voice wobbling. “God, you’re such a good fucking girl. Gonna cum so deep inside you. You deserve it, princess,” he rambles, palming one of my breasts as he uses his other hand to keep me steady once I regain control of my hips. We’re absolutely feral as our bodies grind and slam against each other, pathetically needy.

Feeling my orgasm approach, I tighten around him, sleek walls squeezing him impossibly tighter. Eddie’s thrusts grow increasingly impatient, if that were even possible, as his strokes become shorter and less calculated. His body stutters and contracts from what I presume is his nearing release.

“That pussy’s so wet and so tight for me. Fuck. I want you to cum. I need you to cum. Cum for me, baby,” he moans, fighting off his orgasm so he could watch mine, undistracted by his own. He gets a few more strokes in before my thighs start shaking, piercing moans flying out of my mouth.

Fuck, Eddie. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, please. I’m gonna cum. I’m gonn- I’m cumming. Don’t stop. Fuck. It’s all just word vomit at this point. The only form of punctuation was my moans.

“No, I won’t stop, baby. You’re doing so good for me. Cumming all over my cock so fucking pretty like that,” he replies, head falling into the crook of my neck. I feel like I’m floating as I start getting light-headed, riding out my peak. My mind’s foggy. The knot in my stomach is fully pulled undone much to Eddie’s amusement, as he kisses my neck, humming.

His body becomes weak as he feels his climax approaching, “Oh, fuck. You feel so good. Fuck. I’m gonna cum, baby.” He grunts, white ropes of thick, warm cum painting my stomach as he pulls out. Covered in my arousal, his cock is shiny like a trophy, giving a whole new meaning to the term ‘afterglow’. Exclaiming a plethora of swear words, Eddie’s face is drawn into an expression of pure bliss, a wide smile, making him look especially kissable.

He’s breathing heavily as he slips himself back in, the euphoric sensation still lingering in his bones. Keen on devouring another one of his loads, my entrance contracts, as if it was panting hungrily, waiting to swallow him up again. He pulls air between clenched teeth as his sensitive shaft drags in and out, overstimulating the both of us. He’s greedy for another orgasm just as I am.

“Oh, princess, you’re such a good girl for me. Fuck, I wanna cum again.” His thrusts speed up, rock-hard erection poking inside me at all the right spots. Mouth drying from all his rambling, he pants as his mind goes blank.

“I wanna cum again, I wanna cum again, please. Please, please let me cum again,” he whines, greedy for another orgasm. It’s a complete 180 from how he was behaving just a few moments ago. Instead of grunting, he was whimpering. Instead of ramming into me, he was savoring me. Completely relishing at this moment.

Please, please, please, fuck.

His eyes shut as he rambled, begging and whispering the naughtiest things, aching for his second release. All while his head was blocking an overhead lamp, casting a blond light around the perimeter of his mane, similar to that of a halo. I blinked up at him, pupils drinking him in. He looked so angelic like this. So perfect.

Pulling him in by his pearl necklace, I smirk at him, loving the way he sounded begging me to allow him to cum. “So horny you wanna cum twice, huh? You need my pussy that bad?”

“Yes, baby, I need your pussy. I need your pussy so bad. Let me cum again for you, please,” he asks, breath fanning my cheeks. His moans are soft and desperate, only quieting when he frowns at his cock slipping out. The warm and sticky composition of my arousal and cum proved to be better than any brand of lube. His mouth falls open, no sound emitting as he feels his climax approaching quicker than before.

“Cum for me, baby. Yeah, cum for me,” I coo, as he pulls himself out, rapidly jerking his cock, a loud wet sound following his every stroke. His entire body reacts, twitching and shaking, as this orgasm is seemingly stronger than the one before. Sweat runs from his forehead, around the wrinkles of his shut eyes, before falling into another droplet of sweat drowning his tattoos.

“Fuccck,” he strains, milking every last drop of cum from his tip. He chokes out a laugh, content. “Shit,” he grunts, eyes tracing my body, stopping at my core that was dripping in his load.

He bites his lower lip, lugging his softening cock across my clit. “You’re so pretty like this. All fucked out and covered in my cum,” he sighs, hand moving down to my hips. He lowers himself down, back on his knees, pushing my legs up so that the face of my thigh met my nipple. “You gonna let me clean you up, baby?”

“Yes, please, Eddie,” I breathe, gripping his hair as his tongue goes to work on my clit. Slurping on the sensitive button, he hums while he tastes his cum mixed with my own, presumably enjoying the elixir. He spreads me open, revealing my leaking core, plunging his tongue into my hole, and curling it when he got deep enough.

His fingers find my clit and play with it, drawing out the most pornographic moans from me. His eyes pierce mine, gawking at the way my body squirmed and reacted so easily to him. He switches gears, using his tongue to lap up my juices while his fingers stir up the remaining wetness in me. I grind my waist to meet with his fingers, which causes the tip of his bulbous nose to be added to the equation.

I whimper at my second climax calling. My body stutters as I clench his fingers. Gathering up his abandoned cum on my stomach, I suck on my fingers fancying in his flavor.

“You’re so good, baby. I love the way moan for me.” His hands caress my body, tugging at my skin. I feel the vibration of the music rattling through my chest though I’m too engulfed in Eddie’s touch to be disturbed by it.

“That’s it, yes. Just like that, baby. Cum for me,” he teases, noticing the way I tensed, and moans amplified. His fingers hit my G-spot perfectly into my orgasm as if they had maps telling them exactly where to go. My hips follow his tongue shamelessly as I ride the wave out, not wanting the feeling to end quite yet. My breasts quivering as I try to catch my breath, Eddie smiles bright and wide, lips glossy and swollen.

“You did so good, princess, holy fuck,” he grins, planting his wet mouth on mine, letting me taste myself on him. I smile drowsily, mind empty yet so full of Eddie, “You too. I really liked that.”

“Yeah?” he asks, picking up my pants and underwear, helping me get them back on, and breathing heavily. “I’m glad you did.”

He smiles down at me, hair a wild mess thanks to my fingers constantly exploring it, sweat, and the natural high of sex, giving Eddie a look of pure satisfaction. I pull my clothes over me, afraid of the possibility of some drunk person stumbling in, though just a few seconds ago, that was the least of my worries.

Looping the belt back into his pants as he threw them over his legs, Eddie slows his movements, an inner debate playing out in his head. “I meant what I said, you know.”

My legs shake as I lower myself back onto the ground, knees wobbling like an infant learning how to walk for the first time. Redirecting the strands of my hair back into their rightful place, I glance over at him. “About?”

“About wanting to be seen with you. After hanging out with you tonight, and you know, doing what we just did,” he laughs quickly, gesturing to the sink, before continuing, “I really like you, [Y/N].”

I can’t help but smile at his shyness. He hides himself in his hair, distracting his hands by shrugging on his jacket, though I know with the way he was sweating, there was no chance he was cold. It baffled me how a person who exuded so much confidence in everything he did, got so timid around little old me. “I really like you too, Eddie,” I state, reaching to grab his hand.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah,” I giggle.

A sigh of relief and a hand squeeze is what I get in return before he says, “Let me take you on a date, then. A real one. Please.” Is this even real life? It made me frown seeing how unsure of himself he was when he asked.

“I’d love to,” I press my lips against his, kissing any lingering doubts away. He smiles into the kiss, taking a hold of my head between his two hands. It’s such a warm, comforting embrace. I could drift off to another land much more safe and happier, just like this. He places a peck on the tip of my nose as we separate.

“Come on, let’s go dance,” I laugh, pulling him towards the door. “After you, m’lady,” he chuckles, opening the door for me. A perfect gentleman.

We saunter down the hallway, the sound of the music unmuffling as we rejoin the celebration. I do my best to not obviously look like I just experienced two of my best orgasms ever. It was easy enough, though I knew had traces of Eddie still lingering on the skin of my tummy somewhere my eyes couldn’t see.

I catch a glimpse of Avery at her favorite spot: the bar. Tapping Eddie’s shoulder, I let him know I’ll be back in a second, leaving him on the dancefloor as I make a path through the crowd toward my partner in crime.

“Howdy,” I smile, widely. Avery clocks it immediately.

“How was it?” she smirks, tapping her nails on the wood of the edge of her bar stool. Pretending to zip my lips with an imaginary zipper, she slaps my leg playfully, though she already knows keeping things from her was something I wasn’t capable of doing. She was my sister. Of course, I had to tell her.

“I’ll tell you when we leave outta here,” I promise, calming her nosy nerves. “Oh, one thing that did come up though,” I begin. She perks up like a dog who just heard a noise.

“What?”

“Apparently, you have pictures of us all over your office,” I smirk. The color in her skin runs pale as she realizes she’s been caught. There’s been a running gag between us that we didn’t like each other as much as we let on. Though we both knew that wasn’t true and that we’d most likely end up staying in each other's lives until the end of time, it still was hilarious to tease each other.

“Wanna tell me what that’s about?”

She scans the crowd to find Eddie, scowling once she spots his conspicuous hair in the crowd. “I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch.”

502 notes · View notes

xiao-come-home · 1 year

Text

Genshin men's favorite part of your body;

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓

✰ Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Xiao, Zhongli, Ayato, Itto, Alhaitham, Dainsleif, Thoma.

✰ Words: 2,6k.

✰ N/SFW blurbs, fem!reader. MINORS, AGELESS AND BLANK BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED. Warnings below.

Warning: mentions of lingerie, public groping kinda, implied fucking in the bathroom, itto needs a leash, nipple sucking, reader touching themselves for a character, neck kisses, marking, cock kissing, thigh fucking, pussy eating and grinding, msg me to add more.

A/N: i tried to make it chrismas-y but failed and horny took over at the end. (fingerg/uns). mobile formatting has failed me.

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

Kaeya:

i think we all agree that he's an ass man. he'll stare at your ass with no shame whatsoever, even if he's caught. "that's a whole buffet right there, babe," he says, as he slaps your ass and giggles. speaking of, he always has to keep a hand on your ass if he's drinking in a bar - it just gently rests in the back pocket of your jeans. might actually cum a bucket if you reverse cow-girl him, and the said position gives him a bit of contemplation, whether he wants to rip your panties apart or leave them, hmm, it's the third one this week, but you won't mind, right? Kaeya is surely big on lingerie, and if you combine it with his obsession with ass - especially one that defines your cheeks - you might want to take a day off.. oh! also, he'll purposely drop ANYTHING to make you bend down.

the cavalry captain observes you as you hastily serve drinks in Angel's Share - you've promised Diluc to help during the Christmas party that the tavern runs every year. his sapphire eyes follow your figure right and left, as he finishes yet another shot of the holiday special - glaring at the drunkards that blatantly stare at your adorable, Santas-adorned skirt, which seemed way too short for this type of celebration. feeling his patience running out, he stands up from his seat and approaches you, wrapping his hands around your waist and bringing you closer. "oh my, who do we have here?" kaeya giggles, pushing one, lonely strand of hair behind your ear, "why must you tease me so much, snowflake? and during christmas, out of all holidays?" he pouts, the hand sliding from your waist to grab a handful of your plush ass roughly. feeling his breath closer and closer and his fingers slipping past your panties, a certain redhead attempts to de-escalate the situation, nudging his brother with an elbow and nodding his head - red eyes focused on the bathroom, "don't make too much noise."

Ayato:

this man is a LEG MAN and I do not accept anything else. His brain starts acting up as soon as you wear heels, show your legs or thighs in any way, just seeing how that thigh highs hug you so, so perfectly, he feels his cock twitch in his pants. Expect many secret leg touches under kotatsu or tables, to have you, his pretty wife all dolled up next to him during the important meetings, being the obedient little one and trying not to moan, as his hand plays a dangerous game near your core. Nothing works to make him pay attention to other parts of your body, say - you're wearing booty shorts? Oh, but would you look at how your legs seem way longer and more delicious? He's absolutely going to devour and worship your legs, even if you're wearing an innocent Santa costume with long, red dress. He's obsessed about buying you cute tights, thigh highs, especially on occasions like holidays - candy cane themed, raindeers, snowflakes - everything he lays his eyes on is going to your shared closet.

"Go ahead, love - try them on for me. Good, now sit on my lap," Ayato's eyes wander to your legs, eyeing them in their entirety, up from the thighs, all the way down to your ankles before you come closer, slowly riding up your crimson skirt, "We need to try them out, right?" His hand caresses your knee softly, the delicate material of the white tights decorated with gingerbread men feels too good against his palm, almost too good, but you can't miss his wide pupils and how his lower lip disappears between his teeth. not long after, you find yourself sprawled on the bed, your cunt clenching around his dick; ayato pounds into you while your legs are pressed to his chest and shoulders, kneading your breasts delicately.

Itto:

the one and oni could never fully decide - that's why he settled down with breasts and tummy. no matter what, if you wear a revealing t-shirt or dress, there is no way to prevent his eyes from shamelessly staring at your chest for at least solid 5 minutes. Itto never pressures you to wear something for him (that'd be a bit hypocritical lol), but if you decide to tease him - if your chest is on the bigger side and the oni notices the way your breasts are pressed together, it takes him (pinching hand emoji) this close to ripping the clothing off and start marking your tits with love bites. BUT! if you're on the smaller side - he absolutely doesn't mind! he actuallly encourages you to go braless! totally not because whenever he catches a glimpse of your hardened nipples, he's immediately about to start sucking on them, regardless if he's in public or not.. his fixation on your nipples might one day get him in trouble.

as you adjust the tinsel above the crackling fireplace, you feel large hands envelop your stomach - someone familiar approaches you from behind, "that's a nice sweater you have, lil bug," itto's massive palms rub your tummy gently, only to swiftly go under the warm, green knitwear with a snowman and graze your bare skin with his claws, "but there's somethin' about it," he bends down and latches his lips on your neck, sucking bruises and soothing them with his tongue. his hands make his way up to your bra, cutting the material in half with his sharp, inky nail, "it's in the goddamn way."

Xiao:

the yaksha has taken a strong liking to your hands, preferably bare, hungry for skin-to-skin contact after so many years of facing loneliness. though, each time his golden eyes follow your hand movements, even innocent ones - sinful thoughts begin to flood his mind - how your pretty hands stroke his cock each time you get intimate, the way your hands get lost in his hair when your tongues dance together. xiao's breath hitches in his throat as he watches your palm slide down his chest to get under his tight shirt, only to slide back up and tease his hard pe-- he shakes his head and sighs in defeat, clutching the jade spear. either way, there's no doubt xiao will become putty in your grasp as soon as you brush your thumb over his lower lip.

liyue has finally welcomed winter - the snow has fallen, along with the temperature. the frost clings tightly to the window, but xiao - he finds himself getting hotter and hotter with every minute that passes. he swallows harshly, observing you naked before him, lying on the bed with your legs spread - you tease him by gliding your hand over your breasts. xiao grips the sheets tightly as soon as you pinch one of your nipples and moan his name; his eyes immediately fall onto your wet pussy, malachite brows furrowing at the sight of your glistening folds. he watches as your hands roam around your body sensually touching yourself, the fairy lights reflecting various colors in your eyes... he's patient, but seeing you play lazily with your clit, smearing your juices all over your slit and finally, finally inserting them inside you seems like he cannot wait any longer.

Diluc:

he's truly addicted to your neck and will not deny it. i don't just mean only intimate sessions, no - he's so crazy about it, that to him neck kisses are the equivalent of cheek kisses. when you greet him, you don't turn your cheek to him, you tilt your head to the side only to feel his warm lips on your neck and vermilion hair tickling your shoulder. if diluc doesn't make new love bites, he absolutely presses gentle, wet kisses onto the already-existing ones, letting out quiet whimpers from time to time. he waits (im)patiently for them to heal, only to feel his mouth water at the sight of your now clean neck, staring at it for a bit too long and replaying the previous sessions of marking you in his mind. diluc goes overboard sometimes - and the only way to physically stop him from locking his lips on your neck is to wear turtlenecks.

the glass squeaks slightly as you carefully polish it with a cloth - it's currently rush hour at Angel's Share - the Christmas special sold out almost immediately, and the tavern is filled with loud laughs, chatter, and occasional yelling. you see Kaeya leaving his seat with a prominent blush and a slight scowl on his face, walking towards the new staff member. you shrug it off, picking up his empty shot glass to begin cleaning it, but the sudden hug from behind and the weight on your shoulder stop you. "it's cold today, isn't it?" diluc smirks and nuzzles into your neck - or rather the material that covers it - one of his hands travel to tug it down, to give him the access to the forbidden fruit he's been dying to bite since you arrived. his lips pepper small kisses on your hickeys, almost apologetically; you feel him push himself on you more, locking you between him and the counter. diluc's tongue traces the bruises he's made a few days prior, leaving a wet track of saliva and trying badly not to let out the moan he's been holding. "diluc," you say his name silently, earning only a hum from him, "your brother is about to have sex on that table."

Alhaitham:

he was the only one to genuinely and quite nonchalantly admit that your lips are his favorite, and then went back to casually reading his book. it makes sense now - all the subtle glances at your lips whenever you are near him, always kissing away the tiny bits of food stuck on them, noticing your new lip glosses or lipsticks. alhaitham is a private person - therefore, he only gives a few kisses in public, but at home - he loves making out with you as much as possible; he can't wait to feel your lips after spending a whole day at the akademiya. he can't wait to brush his thumb over your lips, to gently work his mouth over yours, to cradle your face and lick your lower lip and silently ask for permission to deepen the kiss. it doesn't matter if you're just doing the laundry or cooking - he WILL lick off that strawberry lip gloss you've bought. the scribe generally doesn't care much about where your lips are on his body - be it his neck, cheeks, or lips - his only weakness is seeing your pretty mouth near his cock.

it's hard to say what alhaitham likes more - your mouth sucking his cock, or straight up having it messily played with by your lips. he adores the way his stiff length disappears in your mouth, but also, he's trying his best not to cum while watching you kiss his cock. in fact, you don't have to suck him off to make him cum - the sheer view of you making out with his dick while whimpering against it might be just enough. he can't wait to return the favor - to smear your essence all over his lips and dive in for a kiss later. hopefully kaveh doesn't mind all that noises while decorating the chrismas tree.

Dainsleif:

oh my god. someone stop him before he passes out between your thighs. if dainsleif was about to die, that's the only acceptable place. but in a more serious tone, he ridiculously loves your thighs to the point that he cannot stop touching them when you're alone with him. though, he does like to keep his hand on your thigh if you're in public, perhaps in a tavern. he doesn't overstep but does like to tease you and rub his hand back and forth, slipping his hand toward your center occasionally, chuckling to himself after you seal his hand between the soft flesh of your legs. he could spend an eternity worshipping your thighs, in a way - he's very similar to diluc; ready to mark your thighs with his love bites, kiss them, lick them, bite the sweet skin lightly. dain religiously gives you oral on almost every occasion, hoping to feel your thighs squeeze his head tightly as you cum on his tongue.

if there's anything else that dain's mind goes blank almost immediately for - it's the thigh fucking. he feels his head spin as he fucks your thighs, using your cum as lube; you clench around nothing seeing his cock head peek and disappear as he thrusts into you. dainsleif tries to keep his composure, but his face betrays him: the furrowed brows, full-blown out pupils, his teeth gritting, hissing at the pleasure, desperately trying to enjoy the supple skin longer. little does he know, he's about to paint your thighs white.

Zhongli:

although it didn't seem as strange before, the geo archon has bought you many rings. his face always lights up and he extends his arm to gently caress the new rings with his thumb, before bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss on top of it, and then each finger. after countless innocent suggestions to stop wearing gloves, having his hand on top of yours and having him absentmindedly playing with your fingers - you've guessed right, zhongli does indeed like your fingers the most. he smiles sweetly as he compliments your new nail polish - but behind that smile, deep down, his brain imagines those pretty fingers trying to grip his fat dick and not being able to connect with each other due to his size. he can't wait to suck them and see your pussy flutter as you fuck yourself with his spit on your fingers.

he wouldn't have ever guessed that this is what truly makes gets him going; yet, Zhongli found himself playing with you like a toy. he has you sat on his lap with your back pressed to his chest; your entrance is soaked already, tiny beads of sweat on your naked body begin to appear. his immense geo-infused hand with gold veins envelops yours, and he can't help but adore the purity of your own. he slides both of your hands together past your breasts, stopping at your tummy to turn your head slightly and kiss you with his split tongue; he swallows your moan as he guides the hands again onto your slit, rubbing it affectionately. you intertwine your other hand with Zhongli's unoccupied one and gasp, feeling his hand circle your clit with your own fingers, shortly before letting go and entering your hot cunt with his.

Bonus blurb~!

Thoma:

this poor thing sees your pussy and is instantly gone. everything about it makes him stop in his tracks when dirty thoughts appear - thinking how prettily your panties outline your pussy, being able to see your pussy lips hidden in your underwear when you bend down because ayato just dropped something by complete accident... thoma can't take his eyes off you as he enters you, watching your hole take him entirely, his mind racing and hoping to hear the squelching sounds from your soaking cunt. he has a habit of gently slapping your pussy with his hard cock, grinding between your pussy lips - but he asked nicely, so please let him! thoma also worships your pussy and hopes you don't mind him making out with your clit and your tight hole, desperately trying to swallow your juices so nothing goes to waste. he tries to get some friction and grinds against the mattress, his face flushed as he laps at your pussy, holding your thighs harshly and moaning against your opening like a bitch in heat, silently urging you to pull his hair and bring his face even closer.

623 notes · View notes

comicglitterr0909 · 6 months

Note

As a community we NEED a fic where William actually gets arrested at the end, like imagine a romantic reader x Afton thing and he confesses his love and reveals his truths, and at the end it’s like, reader was actually a cop and your under arrest, and it ends w William saying I would have got away with it too if it wasn’t for you meddling- you get it. :)

I FELT REALLY BAD FOR NOT RESPONDING TO THIS FOR AWHILE, BUT IVE BEEN RLLY BUSY WITH WORK AND SCHOOL. SO THIS IS THE FIRST PART, IM MAKING THE SECOND PART RN AND I LEFT YOU ON A SMALL CLIFFHANGER RN ITS OKAY THOUGH. ALSO ITS ALREADY 2.9k+ WORDS SO I NEED A PART 2.

No because that's such a good idea though too and even though I’m a massive simp for William I think he definitely needs to be humbled. THE MANIPULATOR GETS MANIPULATED WHILE ALSO READER KINDA SIMPING FOR HIM IDK I COULDNT HELP IT it still ends the way u want though >:)

Also I'm naming this "Playing with Shadows" idk it feels right.

Stuff to know: Cursing, a lil obsessiveness, reader following “gaslight, gatekeep, girlboss” mentality, reader is an fbi agent cuz idk felt like it, kind of a more creepy tone to it, this is taken place before Freddy’s is abandoned and before any of Williams kids die, but his wife is gone cause shes not important >:D

Being an FBI agent, you get your fair share or surprising things that you see. And when I got assigned to go to a small town in Utah, investigating a pizzeria, I’d say it was surprising, but that would be the least of my concerns. After arriving there, I was finally informed on what my entire job would be for the next 3 to 4 months.

My boss takes me into a private room, I sit down in front of his desk, he grabs a file, his eyes graze over it until he sighs looking back at me. “Agent y/ln. Your job is complicated, I won't lie to you. It will be an extreme mental challenge, but you're the best to do this.”

“You must first get a job interview with a man named William Afton. He is the owner of a restaurant named Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. After you get the interview you must also get the job, as a waitress there. Simple enough, but then, you will have to seduce him. That's the tough part, we believe he is responsible for the murder of 6 or more kids. We chose you not only from your skill set, but also because you look very similar to his ex-wife. He has 3 children, if you start getting along with them it might seem more attractive to him, your main goal. Get him to fall so in love with you, that he confesses the murders.”

And with that the case that would affect me more than any other, starts.

The day of the interview, it's pouring down rain outside, there are only a few cars parked outside of Freddy’s, the sound of music can be heard from outside. I walk up to the door, opening it, my eyes scanning the room. There isn’t much, it is a tuesday though, the first things I see are two parents trying to get one of their kids to leave, and the second is the giant ass animatronics on stage, well 3 of them are on stage, another fox looking one is playing with a kid. Well it would have been nice if they told me about some creepy animatronics but whatever. After looking around for a few seconds a man approaches me, he’s tall, probably 6 '4 or 6' 5, with glasses. “William Afton, you must be y/n y/ln, here for the interview?” He says to me, offering his hand for me to shake. My boss never told me what he looked like, they tried not to tell me anything about him, they thought that it would be too suspicious for the highly intelligent serial killer if I accidentally slipped up and said something about something I “didn’t” know. Either way I return the smile, shaking his hand firmly.

“Yes that's correct, it’s a pleasure to meet you!” Y’know if you ignore the fact that he is probably a psychotic, narcissistic, serial killer, then he’s actually really hot. At least it wouldn’t be that repulsive seducing him. “Follow me then and we’ll get the interview started.” I take the chance to glance around the place once more, noticing his eldest son, Micheal, leaning against the wall rolling his eyes at his brother who was crying. The fbi showed me pictures of the children so I knew which ones to try and interact with. I followed him into his office, seeing only one family photo, it had his ex-wife in it, I do actually look a lot like her, huh.

He motions me to sit in the chair in front of his desk, while walking to sit on his own. “So y/n, tell me what brings you here for the interview? Why here?” Oh right, what was I supposed to say, shit I forgot, good thing I was in theater as a kid, improvise. “Well, I really love the atmosphere of this place, even though being a waitress isn’t everyone's dream job, I think for now it would be a safe and fun job to have. I also am really good with kids so it's a plus to have them around.” Hell yeah theater kids for the win. He nods at my answer, thinking for a bit then writing something in a notepad he has, I see his gaze focus on the picture of his wife and kids then back at me, he narrows his eyes. Oh he definitely caught onto the similarities in our looks.

“Y’know what y/n, I think I’m just getting a really good feeling about you, how soon can you start?” Either my improv is so good I should retire fbi and become an actor. Or the plan is working insanely well, and he misses his ex wife so much that having me around could take his mind off it. I really wish it was the first option, it's definitely the second. “Wow! Thank you so much sir! I can start tomorrow if that’d work?” He grins standing out of his chair, I do the same and shake his hand again. “Sounds perfect.” He walks me out of the building, his hand on my shoulder, to most it would be a friendly gesture. But when you know the blood that's been on his hands, you can’t help but have chills running down your spine.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, y/n” He says, his eyes looking straight at me, it was terrifying because when I looked back into his eyes I saw nothing, but it felt like he could see everything in my eyes. I force a smile, waving and quickly walking to my car, driving away to my little apartment. I could barely sleep, my mind kept returning to the same look in his eyes, the same way a lion looks at its prey. I’m an FBI agent, I shouldn’t be this shaken by another murderer, but it just felt different, almost out of this world in some weird way, I guess it just didn’t feel real. But it was. And that’s the scary part. The other scary part was the feeling of being watched, I knew that my FBI friends were watching on cameras, only checking on me with texts, just in case William was stalking me. And that's what it felt like, the feeling of someone watching me, but I couldn’t do anything about it, I was supposed to encourage it actually. This is my job anyways, I’m safe and I’m not going to let some ,oddly attractive now that i think about it, creep scare me. So after giving myself a pep talk I was finally able to get some needed sleep.

I woke up to the annoying ass alarm going crazy, I immediately shut it off, it was a mental battle to not just go back to sleep. When I got out of bed, the feeling of being watched was gone, which told me that William was most likely watching me last night, never gonna get used to that. After I get ready, put on the mini mic that records any conversations I have, and make myself look like a potential murderers ex wife, I head out the door, ready to start my “new job” at a totally wholesome children's place.

When I get there and walk through the doors I notice William was waiting for me, he smiles welcomely and pats my back. “y/n! So great to see you, are you ready to start your new job?” I smile back at him, at least it seems like he's in a good mood today, not a creepy kill all mood. No wait, he’s still probably in that mood. “Yeah, I’m really excited, thank you again for hiring me, I appreciate so, so much Mr Afton.” “Ah, you're welcome! I think you’ll be a great addition to have around.” He leads me towards the kitchen where a sleep deprived male teen who looks like he’s high, (he is) is lazily defrosting pizza dough and another worker, some 60 year old Betty is cutting and putting ingredients into containers. Basic pizza prep. When I walk into the kitchen, Williams hands still on my back, the 60 year old looks up and HARD glares at me. Bitch. I think Wiliam saw how hard Betty or whatever was glaring at me, so he tries to lift the mood. “Bethenny, Aaron, this is y/n, they are our new waitress so you don’t have to keep bringing the food out yourselves!” Bethenny, I was close enough. She looks more like the child murderer. “Hey.” Aaron says, even though he’s high, he looks pretty nice, he’s smiling at me. I wave at him politely while Bitcheny is still glaring at me, not saying a word. “Alright team! Well get to know each other cause y/n’s gonna be here awhile!” That's condescending, oh well. I try to be nice and smile at Bigassbetty and she has no reaction besides looking away and going back to chopping up vegetables. William finally takes his hands off my back and says good luck while walking back to his office. “Hey… guess I should introduce myself, my name is Aaron, it's nice to meet you.” Aaron says coming up to me with a friendly (high) smile. I greet him, trying to be friendly, and trying not to be repulsed by the strong smell of vape coming off of him. “Hey, i’m y/n, it's nice to see a *friendly* face.” I say, glaring at Betty while saying friendly. “Oh haha yeah, don’t mind her, she's just some grumpy bitch.” I laugh with him and Bethenny rolls her eyes. We keep talking for a bit while I try to help prep the kitchen before Freddy’s opens. Once it does, a surprising amount of kids come in, even more surprising because it's Wednesday.

Food quickly starts getting made, along with kids screaming and laughing and running around. I bring my first pizza order over to a table, smiling nicely at anyone who looks at me, getting mostly smiles back. A few hours pass and I finally get to hang out . It's not that hard, it's just bringing food to people and trying not to kick children who get in your way. As I’m bringing food to a table I notice a woman who looks a lot like me walk in with three kids, pushing them in with an even more bitchy look than Bethenny and leaving. Oh shit, those are Aftons kids. I put the pizza down, checking my watch, perfect timing, I'm on break now, which means I need to try and interact with the kids. I got a little information on some of the kids, I know Micheal is the oldest, he's a punk and a rebel, and he’d probably follow me around like a lost puppy if I offered him a smoke and talked to him about star wars, easy enough. Evan hates Freddy’s, so I’d probably need to comfort him and try to calm him down, make him laugh and cheer him up. Then Elizabeth, I could probably act like I found a barbie and give it to her saying “I couldn’t find the owner.” All pretty easy, hopefully.

I decided to try and talk to Micheal first. I figured if the other siblings saw him laughing and talking to me, it would make it easier to talk to them. I waited for Micheal to get tired of his crying brother, as he walked outside. I quickly grab a smoke from my bag and head outside, I see William watch me with an intimidating grin as I wave at him and go outside. Once I get out their Micheal is already side-eyeing me, obviously suspicious and wary if I would snitch on him for smoking, that's until I pull out my own and quickly light it, I glance at him seeing his suspicion fall and his face become more relaxed. I noticed he doesn’t his lighter isn’t working, great for me. “Need me to light it for ya?” I say smiling at him, offering my lighter. He grins and nods. “Yeah, thanks” I nod and cup my hands over his cigarette, quickly lighting it as we both stand outside silently smoking. “So you're the new waitress here right?” I’m glad he started the conversation, to be honest I had no clue what to say. “Yeah, just got here today, I’d say it's going pretty well.” He chuckles while taking a puff of his cigarette. “Hah, just wait till the weekend, it's like hell, way too many kids in one spot.” I grin, “It gets worse than this?!” I say jokingly as we both laugh a bit, I see he has a star wars shirt on. “Who’s your favorite star wars character?” He smiles wide, clearly excited to talk about it. “Oh definitely Anakin, what's your Princess Leia or something?” He jokes. “Hell no (your fav star wars character) is where it's at.” (If it's Princess Leia, sorry lmao). We stay out there for 10 minutes until we walk back inside, discarding the smokes, and continuing to argue about star wars while inside, which is good because William sees me talking and laughing with him. After my break ends I go back to working, occasionally stopping to talk to Micheal, and like I said he’s basically following me around all day. At the end of the day, I help clean up the kitchen a bit, the only three kids left are Aftons. Micheal looks like he’s waiting for me, clearly already attached to me, guess I’m good at my job. I can’t help but feel bad though, if we do catch William, these kids will hate me. It's all a part of the job. I finish cleaning walking out where William greets me with a big smile, I kinda wanna see what he looks like when hes not smiling, because its really fucking creepy that I haven’t seen him do anything but smile. “Y/N! You did great today, I was right, you make a perfect fit!” I see Micheal nod in agreement, William also sees that, somehow he seems even more happy and smiley than just a moment ago. “Ah I see you have met my brilliant son Micheal! He’s quite the kid eh?” God he really is obsessed with trying to make me their new mom. “Yeah well he certainly knows way too much about star wars.” I joke, Micheals face heats up with embarrassment. “Hey! I can like things!” He laughs and I laugh with him, William doesn’t take his eyes off me, he looks like he’s thinking, deciding something, and whatever it is, is about me.

The smallest son then comes up to me, Evan, and just holds onto my leg, wrapping his arms and legs around my leg. I raise an eyebrow and awkwardly laugh, not knowing what to do. Micheal starts laughing really hard, and William is chuckling. “Evan, let's get off of y/n now eh kid, they’ve got places to be.” Evan pouts and holds tighter onto my leg. That's when I start laughing, Elizabeth grins evilly and takes the chance to run over and grab my other leg. William and Micheal start to try and pry them off of me, we are all laughing. Like a family. I lose my balance and stumble back, falling, the kids both instinctively let go so they don't get hurt, before I can fall on the floor William catches me.

Look I know he’s a child murder but with a 6 '4 sexy tumblrman catching me like that, I'm gonna blush a little. And he lifted me back up like it was nothing, I love a strong man. WOAH pause, I am not gonna fall for a killer. Wait, there is still a small chance this could be a misunderstanding, no, I have to remember how creepy he is, like I get bad vibes from him. Then again I get bad vibes from all men. “You alright y/n” Oh shit right, I forgot where I was for a moment. “Yeah haha, thanks, at least we got them off right?” I grin and laugh with them all. Evan tugs on William's pant leg, motioning for him to bend down so Evan can whisper something to him, William does so. He starts laughing and stands back up. “Evan was wondering if you wanted to come have dinner with us sometime.” I smile and nod. “I would love to!” The family lights up, all of them smiling. “How about tomorrow, can’t you just close Freddy’s a bit earlier Dad?” Micheal suggests. “That's a great idea kiddo, how does that sound to you y/n?” The plan is working perfectly. Well, almost perfectly, I’m getting attached to this family, even the guy who might be a murderer. I part of me is wishing, that its all a misunderstanding, that some other fucked up guy killed or took those kids, that this family is perfectly fine and I could fit right in. But the other part of me knows I need to stick to the job, and that fucking sucks.

“That works perfectly, I will see you all tomorrow!”

And with that I wave goodbye to the Afton family, before driving back to my apartment, staring at the ceiling before somehow falling asleep.

ALRIGHT GUYS ILL TRY AND GET PART 2 OUT ASAP 😭

#fnaf #purple guy #william afton #william afton x you #william afton x reader #fnaf william afton #springtrap #spring bonnie #steve raglan x you #steve raglan #steve raglan x reader #william afton angst #afton family #afton fnaf

107 notes · View notes

hoejosatoru · 1 year

Text

In The Shadows

Pairing: Fem!reader x Vigilante!Draken

Summary: When a masked man saves y/n’s life, she insisted on patching up his wounds. Despite the danger, she finds herself drawn to him.

Word count: 11.6k I’m so sorry I got carried away

Warnings: threats of violence/assault (from side characters not drakes), guns, being slapped not for pleasure, probably inaccurate medical stuff, needles, stitches, lots of blood, tasting blood is mentions, kidnapping, oral fem and male receiving, fingering, cream pie, pet names, not proof read sorry

The only sound that filled your ears as you walked home were your footsteps and water droplets hitting the pavement. It passed through your mind that it must have rained while you were at work. Not that you had a second to notice. You barely had time to go to the bathroom, let alone play weather-watcher. You loved being a nurse, loved the fast-paced environment, how the hospital was like a living, breathing being and you a part of its lifeblood.

It invigorated you and exhausted you. Some days more so the former and some more the latter. Today was absolutely a latter day. The ER was jam-packed, a never ending stream of complaints, pains, blood, injury, and fear. That was typical, as was losing patients. However, the loss of a patient today was weighing heavily on you. He was a young man, about your age, which you reckoned was fueling your obsessive thoughts. It was always strange to treat someone your age; it was like looking death in the face.

There was nothing you could have done, your coworkers told you and deep down you knew they were right. Still, you couldn’t help but turn over every step you took in your head, trying to figure out what you could have done differently to keep the patient alive. Had you not been so consumed by these thoughts, maybe you would have heard a second set of footsteps joining yours.

“If you scream, I’ll kill you,” a rough voice hissed in your ear, gloved hand covering your mouth from behind. You felt some sharp and cool press against your back and you knew immediately he had a knife pointed at you. You tried to wriggle away instinctually, but your assailant only gripped you tighter. “If you run, I’ll kill you too, bitch.”

Suddenly you were falling, shoved to the ground by two heavy hands. You flipped over frantically, finding a ragged looking man standing over you. He had an evil sneer and eyes that promised violence. Adrenaline flamed through your body, putting you into survival mode. You looked around desperately, hoping to see someone who could help or something you could use for a weapon. You instantly regretted taking a shortcut through an industrial area; it was devoid of anyone at this hour. There was a metal pipe about a half block away, but it might as well have been on the other side of the world. You were trapped.

“What do you want,” you croaked, hoping the 20s in your wallet would appease him.

The man crept over you, like a spider approaching his prey. You were caged in by his limbs, suffocating on the stale odor of his body. “You. And your money,” he replied.

“Please,” you begged, “Just take the money and let me go. I won’t call the police, please.” The second the words left your mouth you knew it was useless. This man was not driven by monetary gain, you could see, but by violence. He was getting off on your fear.

“Shut the fuck up,” he spat, pressed the blade to your neck, “Shut up and listen and I’ll let you live.” Your body went still; you knew more than anyone that a nick to your jugular could be game over. As the assailant started to fumble with his jeans, a sense of rage washed over you. This was not going to happen to you, not without a fight at least.

Your brain was working overtime, concocting a plan to wait until he pulled his dick out, when you assumed he would be most vulnerable, and kick him in the balls as hard as you could. Then run for your life. It was stupid and could very well get you killed. Somewhere in the back of your mind you wondered if this was some sick karmic justice for the patient that died. A life for a life. You couldn’t focus on that, though. Your full attention was on the man in front of you. You were bracing yourself as his pants unzipped, getting ready for the right moment.

Suddenly, the man was off of you. You couldn’t process what had happened, just that there was a weight, a darkness over you one second and now there was not. When your brain caught up to your eyes, you saw a second figure dressed all black with plain black cloth covering his face from the nose up. He had ripped the attacker off of and was now looming over him as he had you.

You scrambled to your feet, pressing yourself against the cool, damp brick wall. You watched the scene play out, hoping that if you flattened yourself enough they would forget you were there.

“The fuck is your pr-” your attacked was cut off by a swift kick from the man in black. He went reeling, crumbling with moans of pain.

The man in black turned his attention to you, “Are you okay?” No, but yes. You nodded, unable to push words through the veil of shock over you. Then, the attacker was up again, rushing towards the masked man. You pointed, possibly even said, “Watch out,” but it was too late. The attacker slashed the masked man across the bicep. He grumbled, a sound of annoyance, like when you found a mosquito on you, rather than one of pain.

He grabbed the assailant’s wrist, twisting it until a sickening snap filled the air. The assailant wailed, dropping the knife. The masked man kicked it far away, before giving the assailant a few kicks of his own. He begged for him to stop.

“Would you have stopped if she begged you to?” the masked man questioned venomously. You knew the answer to that. “If I ever see your fucking face again, I’ll do worse than this.” With a final punch, your attacker was out cold. The masked man picked him up with ease, tossing him into one of those green industrial garbage bins and slamming the top shut.

The man turned and looked at you, well you think he looked at you. His mask was a continuous piece of cloth with no eye holes. You weren’t sure how he saw at all, but clearly it wasn’t an issue. He approached you and you knew you ought to be scared of this man who was clearly very strong and not afraid of violence, but none of you felt afraid. He was nothing like the man currently taking a forced nap in the garbage.

“Are you alright?” he checked again. You nodded and he turned to leave.

“Wait!” you found your voice, “Your arm.”

The man shrugged, seemingly unaffected by the wound. Even though it was dark and he was wearing a black long sleeve, you could see it was bleeding a fair amount. “It’s nothing.”

“You need a hospital and stitches, most likely,” you replied.

“I can’t go to hospitals, they ask too many questions,” he dismissed you gruffly, “It’s a scratch, it will heal on its own.” He turned again, but you stepped in his path.

“Even if it was just a scratch, which it definitely is not, that knife is probably filthy,” you replied, “If you get an infection in your bloodstream, it’s game over. You really want that guy to be the reason you die?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “I just can’t, okay?”

“Let me help you,” you insisted, “As a thank you. I’m a nurse.” You fished your hospital badge out from under your shirt, flashing at him as proof. “We don’t have to go to the hospital, just my apartment. I won’t ask any questions.” You’re not sure why you felt so compelled to help this man, but it felt like an absolute necessity. He may have saved your life, this was the least you could do. Plus, a selfish part of you knew if you went back to your apartment all alone after this incident you would probably have a full on panic attack. You desperately needed the distraction.

The man was silent, considering your offer. “It is dangerous.”

“No more dangerous than bloodborne pathogens.”

He sighed, caving to your demand. “Fine.” His one stipulation was that you could not walk there together, which you didn’t argue. You gave him instructions to your place and told him which window he should look for. You didn’t realize until you walked away that he meant to come up through the fire escape.

You hurried back to your place, wanting the safety of your four walls. As you walked, the adrenaline wore off and you felt the full impact of having a near death - or at least near assault - experience. Your body was buzzing and felt heavy. You couldn’t quite catch your breath. Finally, though, you arrived, giving you some relief.

You dropped your bag by the door and kicked off your shoes. You went down the hall, collecting some towels and your first aid kit. You knew it would be best to do something like this in a bathroom, however your crappy little apartment had an even smaller, crappier bathroom. There would not be enough room for this man - who was rather large, over 6 feet you reckoned - yourself and your supplies. So, you spread out a big towel on the kitchen table (it doesn’t get used much anyways) and set out all the supplies you would need. It dawned on you then that he could just have used this to give you the slip and never intended to come.

That fear was quelled by a knock at your window. The man was crouched on your fire escape, mask still on. You told him he could come in. “You should really keep that locked,” he said as he slid inside.

“You can lecture me later,” you replied, patting the towel on your table, “Sit.” Wordlessly, he followed your command. He was a big, solid man, your table groaning under his weight. The black shirt he wore strained over his muscles. Who is this guy, you wondered.

You slipped on a pair of gloves. “Mind if I roll up your sleeve?”

“Go for it.” You carefully slide the sleeve up the length of his arm, as to not disturb the wound. Blood has dripped down his bicep, a very muscular bicep you noted, down to his elbow. Thankfully, though, the blood seemed to have stopped. You used a damp washcloth to gently remove the blood from his skin. This close to him, you could breathe in his scent. It was woody and smokey with a hint of motor oil and the metallic tang of blood. Oddly enough, it was not unpleasant.

“I have to thank you again for saving me,” you said as you washed away the blood, “If you didn’t get there when you did…” your voice trailed off thinking how badly it could have ended.

“You’re welcome,” he replied. You wanted to talk to him, learn about him, but he seemed guarded. You dropped the bloodied towel onto the floor, switched to some gauze soaked in saline. You worked your way closer to the wound area, gently cleansing it.

“Is this, like, a thing you do often?”

“No questions, remember?” his tone was a bit lighter. That was progress.

“Not a chatty guy?”

At that he smiled slightly. “Not really.” You prepped the medical needle, thread, and forceps. “Have you been a nurse for long?”

“Are you worried about my skills?” you mused.

“I thought you wanted to chat,” he replied. Touché.

“About 4 years. But don’t worry I could do stitches in my sleep,” you replied, “Might hurt a little, though.”

He just about laughed. “I think I’ll survive.” His voice was deep and strong, like a rich cup of black coffee. The more he spoke, you found yourself drinking it in. His jaw strong and square, his lips full. There was something alluring about this man. A stupid thought. You didn’t even know what he looked like and yet your heart was skipping a beat. Focus idiot, you told yourself.

“By the way, how do you even see? Your mask looks like a blind fold,” talking took your mind off how he made you feel.

“You’re not good at the whole no questions thing,” he huffed, “but it’s a special fabric that functions like a one way mirror. I can see out but no one can see in.”

You got to work on the repetitive process of suturing. Needle in, needle out, knot, snip, repeat. If it hurt him at all, he didn’t show it. He didn’t so much as flinch. “You’re a good patient.”

“Not my first rodeo,” he replied.

“So you have been doing this awhile,” you caught.

He sighed, a deep, sweet sound, “Yeah I guess you could say that.”

“For fun?”

“For safety. Too many shitty people in this city and not enough people doing anything about it,” he replied.

“You could say that again,” you replied. The crime rates have been going up recently. It was unnerving.

“It’s not much, but it’s something. If I can help a few people it’s worth it.”

You finished up the final suture, almost sad knowing he would leave. “Well, as one of those people you saved, I really appreciate it. And you’re all done. I’m all out of lollipops, though.”

At that he laughed, “Worst news I’ve gotten in a while. But thank you, I appreciate it.” He paused, rolling his sleeve back down carefully. “Can I ask one more thing of you?”

“Of course,” you replied as you cleaned up.

“Please don’t tell anyone about this. I’m trying to… stay off the radar. The less people that know about me the better. Also,” he hesitated, “I don’t want you to be in any more danger. There are people who don’t exactly like me.”

“Your secret is safe with me,” you replied, “And if you ever have any other medical stuff you can come here. I’ll help you, limited questions asked.” He smiled softly in a way that told you he would most likely not take you up on that offer. It made your heart sink a little, but it was probably for the best. Inviting a strange man into your home probably wasn’t smart, even if he did seem nice.

“I imagine your name is off limits,” you said as he slid the window back open.

“I’m sorry, it’s for the best,” he replied, stepping back out into the cool night air. “Take care of yourself.” With that, the window shut and the masked man was gone.

***

You kept your promise, not telling a soul about the masked man. You started calling him Shadow in your head, for his fully black outfit and lack of distinguishing features showing. It was silly, but easier than ‘the masked man.’ In any event, you kept it to yourself. It was hard because the near assault rattled you, but you couldn’t tell anyone that it almost happened without telling them why it didn't happen.

Work was the perfect amount of busy following the ordeal. It was as if it knew you needed to keep your mind off things, though not so much that you would be overwhelmed. After about 2 weeks, you were certain you were not going to see Shadow again.

So you were very surprised when he appeared on your fire escape again. “I told you to keep this thing locked, any weirdo could get in,” he said by way of greeting as he slid through the window.

“Are you one of the weirdos in question?” you replied, hoping your voice didn’t give way how excited you were to see him. You were acutely aware, though, that you were in ratty old pjs. He couldn’t have picked a night where you wore the cute matching set you bought yourself last Christmas?

“Probably, given the circumstances,” he answered, groaning a little and he pushed the window back down.

“You’re hurt,” you stated the obvious. He wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t, but it was odd for him to show it.

“I’m alright,” he waved away your concern, “I just got hit in the ribs pretty bad. I’m afraid I might have broken one. I wanted to know if you could tell.”

You pulled a chair out for him. “Well the only way to know for sure is to get an x-ray, but I’m guessing your no hospital policy hasn’t changed.”

“Correct.” You left him to sit while you dug out a stethoscope from your first aid bag. You slung it around your neck, going back to him.

“Can you lift your shirt for me, please?” He did as he was asked, revealing his torso to you. He was as muscular as he looked, almost annoyingly perfect. You ignored the little line of hair disappearing into his pants, focusing his side. His skin was an angry red, with the deep indigo of a bruise beginning to form. “Did you get kicked by a horse?”

Shadow shook his head, “Just an idiot with steel toe boots.”

You gently ran your hand over the area, pressing lightly at different spots. “Does any of this hurt?”

“I mean, it doesn’t feel great, but nothing too bad,” he replied.

You continued to prod, “Any trouble breathing? Or pain when you take deep breaths? Like a sharp, stabbing pain?”

“No and no. It feels sore, but I wouldn't say it’s a stabbing pain.” All good signs. You wanted to check with the stethoscope just to be as sure as you could. You pressed the cool medal to his ribs, instructing him to take deep breaths. You moved the stethoscope around, listening for the telltale sound of bone grating against bone, which would indicate a fracture. You never heard it.

“Well I can’t say for certain without an x-ray, but all signs point to not fractured,” you told him, “Some ice would probably be good, though.”

“I wouldn’t say no to that.” You fetched him a pack, gently pressing it to his side. His hands slid over yours to take over, making you blush. As you stepped back, a scar on his lower abdomen caught your eye.

“What happened there?” you asked.

A whisper of a smirk crossed his face, knowing the response he usually got to this. “I got stabbed when I was 15.”

“15? Jesus. You really have been at this awhile,” you replied.

“Yeah, I was sorta… in a gang when I was younger,” he stated, shifting in his seat. That shocked you more than the fact he got stabbed.

“You don’t seem like the gang type,” you replied.

He shook his head, “I know what you��re thinking, but we weren’t bad. Just a bunch of kids that like motorcycles really,” he paused, smiling fondly at a memory you couldn’t see, “We looked out for each other and the people we cared about. We weren’t into drugs or weapons or hurting innocent people. I actually got this scar going after the gang that hurt a friend’s girlfriend.”

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have judged,” you said, “You’re a good person.”

He let out a deep sigh, “I wouldn’t go that far. And I should get going, I’ve taken up enough of your time already.”

“Shadow, wait,” you called, not ready to let him go.

He turned to you with a teasing smile, “Shadow?”

Your face burned red and you huffed, “Well you wouldn’t tell me your name, I had to improvise. Don’t laugh!” But it was too late, he was already fully laughing.

“I like it, maybe I should make that hero name. Get myself a cape or something,” he teased you. You threw a towel at him, which only made him laugh harder. Even though it was at you, it was the sweetest sound you’ve heard in awhile. “You know,” he said, “you never even told me your name.” You actually hadn’t realized that.

“Y/n,” you told him.

“Y/n,” he repeated. Your heart caught in your chest. “You can call me Draken. It’s a nickname, but it’s what all my friends call me.” Friends.

“Does that mean we are friends, Draken?” His name was sweet in your mouth.

“We shouldn’t be,” he replied, “If you knew what was good for you, you’d stop letting me come here. If they were to ever find out, they’d go after you. They’d do anything to get information on me.” The concern in his voice unnerved you; Draken didn’t seem like a man who feared much.

“Who are they?”

“I really shouldn’t I- fuck, I don’t want you to be in the middle of all this shit. It’s dangerous,” Draken replied, “Now would be a good time to tell me you never wanna see me again.” It was supposed to be a joke but there was a pleading edge to it.

“Sorry, you’re not getting off that easy,” you told him firmly, “Shouldn’t I know about what could be a danger to me?” Draken conceded, telling you about an organization called Bonten. They were a front for drugs, weapons, and anything else unsavory you could imagine. Draken explained that he was on a mission to take them down, which, naturally, they didn’t like. They had a hit out on him. Mostly, he said, he goes after their streetmen, trying to get information on where their HQ is, or anything that would help him stop them. However, there are times where he steps in to stop unrelated crimes, like when he saved you.

“Shit, how come you’ve never gone to the police?” you asked. You never liked the idea of Draken going after bad guys, but knowing they were specifically going after made your stomach twist.

“They’ve got half the cops in this city on their payroll. If I walked in there with information on them, it’s likely I wouldn’t walk back out,” he explained, then added with a sly smile, “Plus the other half of cops don't like it when someone can do their job better than them.”

“That’s a lot for one person to worry about,” you replied. You wished you could touch him, squeeze his hand, but he was finally opening up. You were too scared to do something that would scare him away.

“Now you see why I don’t want to involve you in this,” he said.

“I think it is all the more reason for you to have someone to take care of your injuries. Promise me that you’ll continue to come if you need it.”

He hesitated, but finally stated, “I promise. But we have to be careful. Don’t tell anyone about this. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if you got hurt.” You agreed, saying you wouldn’t tell a soul. Draken asked for your phone, which you gave over. “I’m putting in the number to my burner phone. If something happens or you’re in trouble, please call me.” He cracked a smile handing the phone back to you, “I made the contact name Shadow.”

You swipe the phone out of his hand, “I hate you.”

A sad smile flitted across his face. “I wish you did, it would be easier. Goodbye, y/n.”

“Goodbye, Draken.” The taste of his name made the goodbye less bitter.

Over the next few months, Draken would come in when needed. It was bittersweet, you loved being able to see him, but hated that if he showed up it meant he was hurt. The longer you went without seeing him, the more anxious you got. Once three weeks had passed without him coming by and you feared the worst. You kept conjuring up images of him bleeding out in an alleyway somewhere until he showed up at your fire escape. Luckily, none of his injuries were too serious. Mostly cleaning out and bandaging cuts, checking to make sure bruises were just bruises and broken bones. By some miracle, they never were. You only had to give him stitches one or two other times, but they were pretty small. From what you could tell, Draken was very good at what he did.

As he came, you were able to talk more and more. He was still very guarded, never lifting his mask, telling you his real name or any information that was too personal. Still, you got tidbits here and there and felt like you were getting to know him better. You cherished every scrap you were given, weaving them together to try to get a full picture of him. It frustrated you terribly that you didn’t know what he looked like, but you let your imagination run wild.

You had just gotten home from a friend’s dinner party when Draken was knocking on your window. It had been a little over a week since you last saw him, so it was hard to hide your excitement. You didn’t like to show how you felt around Draken, scared that he would run if he saw how invested you were in him.

“Hope I’m not disturbing you,” he said, looking you up and down. Well you think he did by the way his head moved, but you couldn’t be sure. You were glad you picked your favorite silky dress to go out in . Finally, you thought, he was seeing you in something other than sweats and scrubs. You were so vindicated you almost didn’t notice the blood dripping from his nose.

“Never,” you said, grabbing some tissues from the kitchen.

“You go on a date or something?” Draken asked. He tried to sound casual, but something was off in his voice.

You smirked, teasing him, “Yeah, with this guy who said he works for a company called Bonten. Ever heard of them?”

“Ha ha,” Draken replied dryly. “Guess it’s obvious why I’m here today.” He gestured to his nose. You gently dabbed at the blood, which had dripped down to his lips.

“Your split lip healed nicely,” you noted when you wiped all the blood off. There was only the faintest scar from where it had busted open a few weeks ago. You lost yourself for a moment, running your thumb along the plush of his lip. You blushed, feeling like you got caught doing something bad. You went to lower your hand, but Draken grabbed your wrist, putting your thumb against his lips and kissing it softly. “Draken…” you breathed.

“I’m not sure if my nose is broken,” he whispered in a way that said he wanted to say something else, but was scared to. Like he was silently urging you to understand a hidden meaning. He had stepped closer to you, his smokey, cedar scent making you dizzy.

“I-I can’t really see it with your mask on,” you replied softly. Your heart thudded in your ears as Draken wordlessly brought his hands to the back of his head, untying the fabric and letting it fall to the floor. You gasped, finally taking in the man before you. You were most surprised by the tattoo on the side of his head, but it suited him perfectly. His black hair was braided back, but two strands framed his strong, handsome face. The soft lavender bruise across his nose couldn’t even marr his beauty. His eyes were so dark you felt yourself getting lost in them already. “You’re so beautiful.”

Draken chuckled softly. “I’ve been wanting to say those exact words to you for a while now.” Then your face was cupped in his hands, his lips pressed to yours. Your head was spinning, feeling his lips against yours. He tasted good, even with a slight aftertaste of blood.

You pulled back breathless, “Wait your nose.” Draken pulled you back in, “Fuck my nose.” Well who were you to argue?

Draken’s hands slid up and down your body, rough and warm. You let your hands explore as well, loving being able to touch him for pleasure, not to patch him up. Draken backed you up so you were pressed against the wall. You loved how he towered over you. He put a thigh between your legs, pressing upwards. You let out a soft moan feeling his thigh come in contact with your clothed pussy.

“Gonna make pretty noises for me?” Draken cooed. He kissed down to your neck; you tilted back allowing him full access. The strap of your dress slipped off your shoulder as you ground against him. Draken took the opportunity to place a kiss on your shoulder. He pulled your dress down until your boobs were exposed, licking and sucking at your nipples, making you whine.

“Need you,” you gasped. You raked your fingers down his chest.

“Fuck, I don’t have a rubber,” Draken cursed, “But I got an idea that will test if my nose is broken too.” You gave him a confused look, which he returned with a sly smile. He dropped to his knees, the sight of him looking up at you making you flush. He kissed your ankle, your knee, all up your thigh, then ghosted over your underwear before repeating on the other side. You squirmed, aching for him.

“Don’t tease,” you pleaded breathlessly. Draken couldn’t deny you; he wanted you just as badly. He slid your underwear down your legs, a groan escaping his lips at the strings of arousal that went with it. Draken pulled your knee over his shoulder, looking up at you as he licked a striped up your pussy.

“So fucking sweet,” he murmured before fully diving in. Draken was not shy about eating you out at all. He pressed his face deep into the apex of your thighs, his nose nudging your clit. If it caused him any pain, he didn’t show it. He sucked at your clit, then let his tongue wriggle up inside you. You gaspeds, hands tangling in his hair. The braid had long since fallen, his raven locks flowing freely. Draken smirked to himself, feeling you roll your hips against him, greedy for more. “Go ahead baby, fuck my face.”

“Fuck, Draken,” you whined. His filthy words make your pussy clench. Draken - quite literally - ate it up. He loved how you responded to his words, his touch, his tongue. Within moments, your orgasm was upon you, pumping a rich bliss through your veins. You shuddered and moaned Drakens name as he gripped your thighs to keep you from toppling over. He let you ride out your high, savoring your taste on his tongue.

When you finished you sunk to your knees next to him. You gripped his face in your hands, pulling him in for a deep, sloppy kiss. You slid your hand down, running it along the bulge in his pants. Draken’s breath caught in his throat as you gave him a squeeze. You fumbled with the button on his pants until you were able to yank them down enough to slip his cock out from his boxers. Draken laid back, propped up on his forearms looking at you.

“You don’t - shit - you don’t have to, fuck-” he trailed off when you licked up the underside of him. He was long and thick, heavy in your hand. You wanted to taste him so bad.

“You were saying?” you teased. Draken didn’t protest, allowing you to wrap your lips around his head. You sucked at it, swirling your tongue over the slit, making Draken hiss. You let some spit drip down his length, giving some lubricant for your hand to slide up and down him. You bobbed your head up and down, allowing your hands to squeeze the parts you couldn’t. He was so big it made your jaw ache, but you didn’t mind.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” Draken moaned. You focused your mouth on the tip, which made his breath quicken. You loved the way his stomach clenched as you sucked at his tip. His hips twitched and a breathless moan filled the room as he came, filling your mouth. You swallowed the slick salty release eagerly.

You collapsed on his chest, both of you catching your breath. A silence settled over you that started comfortably, then stretched out a little too long. Draken, you noticed, was oddly stiff. A pit formed in your stomach.

“Draken do you… do you want to stay over?” you tried, hoping he’d enthusiastically agree and that you were being over sensitive for no reason.

“I… probably shouldn’t,” he replied uncomfortably.

“I wouldn’t make you sleep on the floor,” you tried to joke, but it died on your lips when you saw his face. Something was wrong. “What’s the matter?”

“This… I shouldn’t have,” he replied, voice strained. He saw your face fall and continued quickly, “It’s not you it’s - fuck I don’t wanna say that. I just -I don’t have a normal life. All this time we spend together, the closer we get, it all puts you more in danger.”

“I don’t care, I feel safe with you. We could make it work,” you pleaded. You felt desperate, like you were gripping onto sand that would inevitably slip through your fingers.

“You deserve better than what I can give you. I can’t even take you out on a date. If my identity got out to Bonten they would go after everyone I cared about to get to me. I can’t put you in that kind of danger.” You were both sitting up and Draken was pulling his pants back up. He was leaving, you realized, he hooked up with you and now he’s leaving you. A wave of anger burned through you.

“You couldn’t have fucking figured that out before we… did that?” you snapped, “Were you just trying to get in my pants this whole time?”

Draken looked at you, hurt. “I would have hoped you’d know I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“But how could I?” you fired back, “You keep me in the dark about everything. Only ever come here when you need something. Then we have sex and suddenly it's too much?” Deep down you knew it wasn’t like that; you knew Draken was not using you. Yet your anger was in full control now.

“I’m sorry y/n. I fucked up, I know how bad it looks,” Draken replied. He sounded broken up. “I shouldn’t have let myself get carried away, it wasn’t right. I… I’m going to stop coming here. I think it’s for the best.”

Everything was crashing around you. You didn’t want him to see you cry, swallowing your tears as best you could. All you could say was, “Go, then.” And then he was gone.

***

It had been a little over 2 months since you last saw Draken. You flipped between sad and angry. Mostly just sad, though. You missed him so bad it ached. You wanted to tell him how mad you were. You wanted to kiss him. Most of all, you wanted to know he was okay. Night time was always the hardest; you spent far too much time staring at your fire escape hoping he would appear. You wondered who, if anyone, was taking care of him now.

You never thought you would see him again, which was why him showing up covered in blood was so shocking. He opened the window, falling through with a heavy thump before you could even get up off the couch. You’ve never seen him look so bad.

“Fuck Draken what happened?” you rushed over to him. You saw that he was bleeding heavily from a wound in his leg, as well as one from the head. His mask was soaked, excess blood dripping down the side of his face.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry,” Draken mumbled, “Didn’t know where else to go.” The words came through huffed breaths.

Tears welled in your eyes. “Shh, it's okay Draken. You’re going to be okay. Just hold on for me.” You pushed your tears away and went into nurse-mode. You gathered up all the supplies you thought you would need. Draken was fading in and out of consciousness when you returned, mumbling sorry again when he saw you. “You can apologize later, just hold on for me.”

You cut through his pants, finding a gash that was the source of the bleeding. The blood was a deep maroon, not the bright red of an artery injury. You let out the tiniest sigh of relief. If his femoral artery had been nicked, he would be a dead man. Still, the wound did not look good. For a brief second you considered breaking the rules and calling the hospital, however you didn’t know how you would explain this without outing Draken. But if he died, that would be a big problem too. You decided then and there that come hell or high water, he is not dying.

You yanked the belt off his pants, using it as a make-shift tourniquet. You figured it would be too hard to get the wound above his heart, what with it being on his thigh. Instead, you jumped right into applying pressure. You used your left hand to reach up and peel off his mask, which was sticky with his blood. It revealed a cut above his eyebrow. It would need stitches, you assessed, but it wasn’t life threatening. Head wounds bleed like crazy; they’re almost never as bad as they look.

You used your need to hold pressure on his wound. Draken groaned, a welcome sound. It meant he was still conscious. Though you could tell he was fading. He was pale from the blood loss. You used your free hands to cut open his shirt and rip it away. Thankfully you were met with no other wounds. Well, visible ones anyways. He was scraped and bruised, but nothing that required immediate attention.

“Didn’t know you wanted my clothes off so bad,” Draken tried to joke. His breath was ragged, making your heart pinch.

“You did know that,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light. His eyes fluttered. “Don’t you dare Draken.” But his lids didn’t open. He was still breathing and still had a pulse, so he was just passed out from the blood loss. You needed to work fast or this could be bad. You checked his wound and, thankfully, the bleeding had slowed.

You, being the neurotic planner you were, had a feeling something like this would happen when you started treating Draken. So, you filled an IV bag with your own blood. You won the genetic lottery and are the universal donor. It was a morbid thing to do, but right now you were glad you had. You fetched the bad from your fridge (hidden behind your favorite juice. Definitely morbid) and worked to hook Draken up. His veins were a little hard to find from the blood loss, but you got it soon enough.

You returned to his thigh wound, which had stopped bleeding. You nearly cried out with relief. You pulled on gloves, carefully inspecting it. It was a long gash, but not deep enough to cause permanent damage. You cleansed it until you were satisfied, checked to make sure it wasn’t still bleeding, then started stitching like a mad woman. You lost count of how many it took, but finally it was done. You moved to the cut on his face and repeated the process.

Draken was still knocked out, but his breath never faltered, which was the only thing that gave you comfort. You then began cleaning the blood off of his skin as gently and quickly as you could. You cleansed and bandaged some of the smaller cuts and scrapes. Then, you shifted your futon into a bed. You laid out an old bed sheet and then very carefully pulled Draken over. It was not easy, given his stature, but your experience handling patients larger than yourself helped. You put a pillow under his head and a few under his leg to prop it up. You’ve done all you could for him, now you just had to hope it was enough.

You worked on cleaning his blood up off your floor. It took a bit of work, but finally it didn’t look like someone nearly bled out in your living room. You bagged up his clothes and most of the towels you used. You weren’t even going to bother trying to get the blood out. You took the last clean towel you had and took the quickest shower possible to get all his blood off you.

When you came back out, he was still resting peacefully. You carefully crawled into the bed next to him, finally letting a few tears flow. You kissed his forehead gently and whispered to him, “Please be okay, Draken. Please.” You slept next to him - though it was less sleeping and more you carefully watching his chest to ensure it was still rising and falling.

At some point you must have dozed off, because the next time you opened your eyes there was sunlight streaming through your window. The soft, golden kind that told you it couldn’t be much past sunrise. You were between sleep and wake when Draken started shifting beside you. You practically sprung up, all traces of sleep gone.

“Y/n?” his voice was hoarse, but so welcomed.

You were nearly in tears. “I’m here Draken.” You looked over his body. It was beaten and bruised, but all the stitches held overnight. His color came back and his eyes had a spark to them. The vice of anxiety eased off your chest.

“What happened? What time is it?” his brows furrowed as he tried to make sense of his surroundings. He saw the IV hooked up to him and shot you a confused look. “How the…?”

“You were in really bad shape last night. I don’t know what happened before you came here, but I-I thought I was going to lose you for a few seconds,” your voice shook as you thought about his eyes fluttering shut. “It’s ab0ut 8am right now. And well… I gave you my blood.”

You expected Draken to be horrified, but to your surprise, he laughed. “And I haven’t even taken you out to dinner.” You laughed, brushing away the few tears that had welled in your eyes. You were so relieved to see him in good spirits. “Am I gonna live? With all appendages intact?”

“Yes, but only because you have the best nurse in the world,” you replied.

He smiled. “That I do.” He tried to sit up, groaning.

“But you should take it easy,” you said, trying to get him to lie back down. You compromised for being propped up on his elbows. You gave him a glass of water, which he downed quickly.

“Fuck that was good.” Draken looked down at himself, just in his boxers. “Wow you really want to get my close off, huh?”

You rolled your eyes. “Shut up. They were covered in blood. I didn’t wanna stain my couch.”

He looked over at you, taking in the pillow and blankets beside him. “Did you sleep with me all night?”

Blush dusted your cheeks. “Yeah I-I didn’t wanna leave you. I was scared something was going to happen.”

Draken’s eyes darkened. “I’m so sorry y/n.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“No, I have a lot to be sorry for,” he replied, “Not just for showing up here and scaring the shit out of you. Though that was definitely not right of me after… everything.”

You shook your head. “I’m glad you did. Well, I mean I’m not glad that you were so hurt, but I am glad you thought to come here. I would never want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Still,” Draken sighed, “What I did that last time we were together was wrong. I never should have left you like that. It was so fucked up of me. I… I just care so much about you. I realized in that moment that I like you far more than I ever should have let myself and that scared me. Because if Bonten ever found out… I couldn’t forgive myself if you were hurt.”

Your heart pinched at Draken’s words. Though it stung for him to leave when he did, knowing he was so scared made you sad. You hated that he had to live like that. “I forgive you,” you replied, and meant it fully. “I know what you do must be really hard on you. You don’t deserve to feel that way.” You paused, debating if you should say what you were thinking. You decided to go for it. “For what it is worth, you are worth taking a risk for, Draken.”

Draken’s eyes softened in a way that made your heart skip a beat. “Does that mean I can take you out on a date?”

You smiled widely. “Yes, you absolutely can. After you’re healed though.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot better.”

You giggled. “You need at least a full day's rest. I won’t go out with you any sooner.”

“You drive a hard bargain, but deal,” Draken replied. “And I want you to know my real name is Ken.”

You groaned. “You’re telling me your real name was right in front of me this whole time? Disguised in a nickname?”

Draken - Ken - laughed at your indignation. “Guilty. But if it makes you feel better, the people closest to me call me Draken.” It did make you feel better; you liked the thought of being someone who was close to him.

You were able to convince Draken to spend another whole day resting at your place so you could monitor him (it really didn’t take more convincing). You made him breakfast, which he devoured. A good sign. He also took a shower and came out in a particularly low towel that made you squirm. You ran into a problem when you realized you trashed all his bloody, cut up clothes, meaning he had nothing to wear. Even your largest sweats looked so ridiculously small on him you both busted out laughing.

“You really don’t have to go get me clothes,” Draken said, who was now just standing in his boxers. You were trying, and failing, not to stare. You couldn’t believe someone could just… look like that.

“Well considering your only other option is walking home in your underwear, I think I do. Besides it’s just a few blocks away, it’s not a problem at all.” You could tell Draken felt bad but he didn’t argue. And it really wasn’t a big deal, you were back with proper fitting sweats in less than 30 minutes.

The two of you just hung out for the rest of the day. You enjoyed getting to know the real Draken, the man behind the mask. He was intelligent, funny, and really sweet, despite his hard exterior. As the hours passed, his color came back fully and his pain was diminishing. He was still a little achy, but all things considered, he was doing well. He ended up in your bed at night, you insisted even though he tried to say the couch was fine. He only agreed to sleep there if you slept there too, refusing to put you out of a bed in your own home.

Nothing happened between the two of you, though you felt like your bodies were alive with a current. You were so aware of him next to you, the weight of him on the mattress, his scent, the sound of his breath, it was like a magnetic force pulling you to him. You didn’t act on those impulses, though. It wasn;t just that you knew his body needed more rest, you were scared of pushing things too far again. Even though he said he wanted to take you on a date, you were still afraid he might change his mind.

Those fears, however, did not stop your unconscious mind from cuddling up to him in your sleep. You were thoroughly embarrassed when you woke up wrapped around him, apologizing profusely. Draken did not seem to mind one bit.

“Do I have medical clearance to take you on a date tomorrow?” Draken asked as he slipped his shoes back on. Your heart fluttered with excitement that he wanted to see you so soon.

“Hmm, I think that can be approved,” you replied. Blood volume usually is back to normal in about 48 hours, so he should be okay by then. You explained that it did take a few weeks for red blood cells to regenerate, so he should take it easy and stay hydrated. “Let me know if you feel dizzy or weak. You should be okay since you haven’t experienced that, but still call me right away if you do. And no strenuous… activities for a few more days.” You gave him a pointed look.

Draken put his hands up innocently. “I can leave the mask off for a few nights. I’ve got more important plans, anyways.” You couldn’t help but smile stupidly as you said goodbye.

The next night you were in your room trying to find an outfit to wear for tomorrow, when you heard a noise in your living room. Draken, you thought, hurrying out to see him.

You stopped dead in your tracks. The person standing in front of your open window was not Draken. Behind the fear that surged through your body you heard Draken scolding you for not locking the damn thing.

“You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you?” the pink-haired man said.

“What are you doing?” you asked stupidly. You body told you to run but you felt frozen in place.

“I think we have a mutual friend I’d like to discuss,” he replied nonchalantly. His cheeks were scarred, making his fake smile look more like a sneer.

“What do you-” Your eyes widened when you realized. This was a member of Bonten, you knew it your bones. Fuck. Finally, your body caught up to your mind. You sprinted back to your room, locking the door behind you. You heard this man sigh behind you, as if you had the nerve to run from someone who broke into your place.

You scrambled for your phone as he banged on the door. The whole frame shook and you knew the shitty old wood was not going to hold up. Your hands were shaking, making it difficult to click through to Draken’s number, but finally you did.

“Please pick up, please pick up,” you frantically whispered. You yelped as the door started to splinter.

You nearly wept tears of relief when you heard Draken’s voice. “Y/n? What’s up?”

“Please help me!” you cried. The door clattered to the ground, making you scream.

“Y/n? What’s going on? Are you okay?”

The man grabbed your ankles, pulling you away from the phone. “They have me! Please, help!” You were screaming and crying, unable to fight the fear. You could hear Draken replying, but the man stomped on your phone, cutting him off. Before you could even react, a sharp pain radiated through the back of your skull and the world went black.

***

The world came back to you in fuzzy blinks. The first thing you noticed was the dull ache in the back of your head, the second was that you were bound to something cold and hard.

“Sleeping beauty’s awake,” a voice announced. You looked up, funding three men staring at you, one was your capture and the other two were purple-haired strangers. They were dressed expensively, though you were in what looked like a run-down old warehouse. They were not exactly how you would picture gang members, but there was an air of menace about them despite their colorful dress. Especially the pink one.

“Finally, been sick of waiting around,” the pink one huffed. “You’re going to cooperate and answer our questions, y/n.” It unnerved you that he knew your name.

The one with short purple hair tsked. “Jesus, Sanzu, you’re scaring the poor girl.” He turned to you, a slick smile on his face. “Sorry for my friend, he’s not good with people. Especially not pretty girls.” Sanzu grumbled something under his breath, while the longer haired guy with glasses rolled his eyes. “I’m Ran, it’s nice to meet you.”

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He spoke like you were meeting a new friend, not like you were being held hostage.

“Not very talkative, huh?” he asked with faux sincerity. “Going to need you to speak for me, angel. Got some questions for you.” Ran went to push hair out of your eyes, making your jerk back.

“Don’t touch me,” you spat.

He chuckled, unperturbed by your tone. “She speaks! Think she likes me better, Sanzu.”

“Oh fuck off.”

“Would the two of you stop fucking playing around?” the longer-haired man interjected. “We don’t have all fucking day. The boss is waiting.”

Ran rolled his eyes. “My brother’s such a party pooper. But it’s true, we are kinda in a hurry. So I’ll get to the point: you know someone we are… very interested in meeting.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice as steady as possible.

“No?” He reached into his suit jacket, pulling out a photo of your apartment building. It was fuzzy, but you could see yourself in the window as Draken climbed in from the fire escape. Your pulse spiked. “See, I think I'm a nice guy, y/n. But I really hate being lied to. And so does my friend Sanzu, only his methods of interrogation are a little more… ruthless.” He paused, letting his words sink in. Your throat felt tight and your palms itched with anxious sweat. These men were not afraid to hurt you. “Now with that in mind, I want you to tell me how you know this man.”

You debated trying to lie, but it was clearly pointless. They had photo proof you knew him. You felt violated and sick that you have been watched for that long, but you couldn’t focus on that now. You formulated a response to get them off your back without revealing too much. “H-he… helped me one day. I was getting robbed and he stopped them.”

“Go on.”

Fuck you knew that wouldn’t be enough. “He got hurt and I offered to stitch him up for helping me. I’m a nurse. It was just a favor I-I don’t know him.”

“Hmm,” Ran considered your words, “And yet he went to your apartment on multiple occasions?”

Your stomach clenched with fear. They’ve been watching you for so long. “I-I offered to help if he needed. But I don’t know anything about him. He never showed me his face or told me his name,” the words tumbled out of you in a breathless mess.

“Am I supposed to believe that? All those late night stops at your place and never once told you his name? Showed you his face?” Ran questioned, his hand ran up and down your leg in a casual manner. “Don’t know how he could resist a pretty girl like you. I’m finding it hard myself, and we just met.”

You felt nauseous. “He never did, I swear,” you lied, “He was very secretive. He only ever stayed long enough to receive medical attention and that was it.”

“Oh for fucks sake,” Sanzu jumped it, “Your methods are shit, Ran.” He shoved the purple-haired man aside. He crouched down to look in your face. “You’re fucking lying to us, I can tell.”

“I’m not I sw-” The crack of a hand across your face silenced you. You were stunned, cheek stinging and mouth filling with the metallic taste of blood. Ran gave you a ‘I told you so’ shrug.

“Do we look stupid or something?” Sanzu demanded. “You must know something about his identity.”

You would never give Draken up. Not just because it was wrong, but because you knew these men were going to kill you either way. You’d rather take his secret to the grave. “I don’t. I told you everything.”

Sanzu pulled a gun out and pointed it at you. You nearly screamed as you struggled useless against the rope that tied you. “Please don’t,” you cried. It was one thing to know these men wanted to harm you, but looking death in the face was something else entirely.

Ran and the third man didn’t even blink as Sanzu cocked the gun. He placed his finger on the trigger. He fucking smiled. “Last chance.”

Your eyes squeezed shut as tears streamed down your cheeks. You didn’t bother begging; you knew your words didn’t matter. You heard a loud bang, your body tensing as you braced for the pain… wait, why weren’t you in pain? You dared to open your eyes, finding Sanzu knocked out on the floor in front of you, a metal rod on the floor next to him. There was a flutter of movement around you, but you saw a familiar shape running towards you.

Draken.

He had another rod in his hand, which he was currently using to fight off the purple-haired men. Another gun was pulled out, followed by a loud BANG, but Draken dodged it. He lunged at Ran, the wielder of the gun, twisting it out of his hand with a loud snap.

“Fuck,” Ran groaned in pain. Draken snatched the gun off the ground and aimed it at Ran’s brother. He lifted his hands to indicate his surrender.

“Get the fuck out of here,” Draken yelled. When they didn’t move he fired the gun in the space between them, which set them off running. Draken was at your side in a blink of an eye. He kicked the gun out of Sanzu’s limp hand. He gave him a kick to the ribs for good measure, but he was out cold. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m okay,” you hiccupped. Tears still fell, these were one of relief. The second he untied your wrists, your arms flew around him, squeezing him tightly. He held you back, gripping you for dear life.

“It’s okay, I got you,” Draken soothed, “You’re safe with me.” Draken took you in his arms and ran. You tucked your face into his chest, breathing in his scent, absorbing his warmth. Your nerves were still a wreck, but you knew at that moment you were safe.

You weren’t sure how long Draken had been carrying you for when he came to a stop. When you looked up, you were at the back of a bike shop. “Are you okay to walk up the stairs?” Draken asked.

“I’m not hurt,” you confirmed. Draken set you down, but kept an arm around you as he led you up the stairs.

“This is my place,” Draken explained, “I want you here with me tonight if that’s okay.”

You nodded, not wanting to be anywhere else. “Thank you.”

Draken scowled. “You’re bleeding.”

Your hand went up to your mouth, feeling the wet blood from your lip. “It’s just a little cut, I’m okay.” Draken stepped to you, his hands replacing yours. He gently ran his finger along your lip, making you shiver. Anger burned in his eyes.

“Those fucking bastards hit you. I’m going to kill them.” You leaned into his gentle touch. You knew you should tell him not to, and eventually you probably would, but right now you could object to the thought of revenge on Sanzu.

“I just wanna be with you now,” you replied.

Draken kissed your forehead. “I’m not going anywhere now, I promise. Why don’t I get a shower going for you?” You nodded and followed him to the bathroom. He set the shower up, letting it get steamy. He placed a fresh towel on the rack. “I’ll be out in the living room if you need anything.”

“Wait!” The thought of Draken not being there, even for a second flooded your body with anxiety. “I… I don’t wanna be alone,” you admitted, not being able to look at him. If Draken thought the request was strange he didn’t show it.

You both stripped down and stepped inside the shower. You didn’t really look at Draken, not that you hadn’t seen him naked before, but you still felt like you were in a daze. Besides, it didn’t really feel sexual, even though you were both completely naked. It was a different kind of intimacy as you turned towards Draken and hugged him.

“I got you, y/n, you’re okay,” he cooed, rubbing your back. Between the heat of the water at your back and the warmth of his body pressed against your front, you slowly felt your body relax. You felt Draken’s hands in your hair and it wasn’t until your nose filled with the scent of spice that you realized he was washing your hair.

You were both silent as Draken cared for you. After your hair, he cleaned your body with a washcloth and soap. You loved that it was making you smell like him. Normally you feel a little embarrassed to be so bare in front of someone, but Draken puts you at ease. He did your face last, gingerly washing the blood off your lip.

“Never thought you’d be playing nurse,” you commented.

Draken gave you a soft smile. “Good thing I learned from the best.”

You stayed in the shower until the water got cold. Draken helped you out and you giggled as he tried to fit the one towel around the both of you. Eventually he gave up, wrapping it only around you and then scooping you up.

“Thank you, Ken,” you said softly, as he sent you down in his bed.

“You don't have to thank me. I should be apologizing.” You hated the hurt look in his eyes.

“Please, don’t. Can we just rest?” you pleaded.

Draken didn’t argue, letting you rest on your head on his chest. Under the security of his arms, your body succumbed to a deep sleep.

***

You stayed with Draken over the next few days, feeling at home almost immediately. You cooked and Draken cleaned the dishes. You showed Draken some of your favorite movies and he let you wear his sweats (but he laughed at how comically big they looked on you). You called out of work, citing a family emergency, which bought you some time to figure things out. Draken took one trip to your apartment to gather some stuff you needed, but besides that you stayed together the whole time. You didn’t speak much about what happened until 3 days later, when you were settling into bed for the night.

“Y/n, we need to talk about what happened,” Draken said sitting next to you. His weight dipped the bed, causing you to slide closer to him.

Anxiety fluttered in your stomach, fearing he was going to ask you to leave or tell you he couldn’t be with you. There was no point in pushing it off any longer. “Okay.”

“You didn’t let me apologize that night, but I have to. I am so incredibly sorry for putting you in danger,” Draken said.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. You saved me,” you replied.

“But if it wasn’t for me you’d never be in that situation,” Draken responded, “You… you could have been killed. Because of me. I could never forgive myself if you were hurt because of me.” The pain in his voice made your heart ache. “I feel like you would have been better off if you never met me. I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, Ken, don’t talk like that,” you replied, taking his face in your hand. “You have done nothing but save me. Do I need to remind you why we met? I don;t even want to think about what could have happened if you didn’t step in then.” You shivered at the memory. “And you saved me today. I know that being with you has… complications, but I don’t care.”

“You should,” he sighed.

“You’re right, I should, but I don’t,” you replied, “I already told you, you’re worth it. And I still believe that even after what I’ve been through. I am going to choose you, Ken. Every time I am going to choose you… But if you don’t want me, I won’t force myself on you.”

“Never,” Draken replied quickly, “I want you more than anything. I just want you to be safe. I’m going to do everything I can to keep you safe, I promise.”

“I know you will, Ken. And that’s why I’m not afraid to be with you, whatever the risk is.” A soft smile spread on his lips. “What?”

“I like when you call me Ken.” He pulled you into his lap. “We do this on one condition. You move in with me.”

“Are you holding me hostage now?” you teased.

He kissed your neck. “It’s not hostage if you want to be here.” He was right about that and there was nothing you wanted more.

“Consider me your new roommate then.” He kissed your jaw, making your pulse spike.

“I was hoping you’d be more than that,” he murmured against your skin.

Your body instinctively rolled into his as he gripped your hips. “And what were you hoping for, Ken?”

You didn’t miss the soft groan that escaped his lips. “That you’d be my girl.” My girl. You felt his words in your heart and your pussy.

“I’m yours.” His lips were on yours the second the words left your mouth. You were tangled up in each other instantly. You ran your fingers through his hair; it was out of the braid, which you loved. His hands trailed up and down your sides, before slipping under your shirt (well his shirt) and tossing it to the floor.

“So pretty,” he said before taking your nippled in his mouth. He palmed your other breast while he sucked on the other, making arousal pool between your thighs. You rocked against him, seeking relief.

Him playing with your tits was sending little jolts of pleasure down between your thighs, making you extra sensitive. “Ken,” you moaned, surprised that you felt on the edge already.

Suddenly you were flipped on your back, Draken over you. He reached behind himself and yanked his shirt off in one go. “Want you so bad angel,” he said, hooking his fingers into your underwear. “But I gotta prep you first.”

His fingers ran through your slick heat, making him groan. He pressed his finger into you, giving a few experimental curls. You wriggled beneath him, desperate for me. Draken obliged, pumping in and out of you. “So tight,” he noted, “Gonna need you to cum on my fingers before I can fuck you.”

“Please, wanna cum so bad,” you whined. Draken slipped another finger in you, watching how your pussy sucked his fingers in. The lewd sight made his cock ache. He pressed his thumb to your clit, needing you to cum so he could be inside you.

“Gonna make you cum, baby,” Draken replied, “Wanna hear you say my name.” His fingers pressed so deep inside you, farther than you’ve ever been able to reach. You could feel your arousal dripping out of you and coating his fingers. Draken leaned in, letting his tongue flick at your swollen clit.

“Fuck, Ken!” Your back arched off the bed and you came. The warm, wet feeling of his tongue on your pussy making your orgasm feel like fire in your veins. Draken smiled proudly at his work, then sucked your release off his fingers.

“Still so fucking sweet.” He stripped off his pants, allowing you to take in his naked form. You still couldn’t believe how good he looked. Not to mention how thick and hard and leaking he was and… fuck you were alreadying aching for him again.

“God you’re so fucking beautiful, Ken.”

He laughed. “No one’s ever called me beautiful. Are you just trying to get laid or something?” His arms were on either side of your head as he positioned himself above you. You felt caged in by him in the best way possible.

“I am definitely trying to get laid,” you kissed him, “But you’re definitely beautiful.” He let out another soft laugh and kissed you back.

“Tell me if I hurt you okay?” You nodded. Draken slowly pressed himself inside you, the size of him taking your breath away. “Fuck, you’re so tight.” His voice was gruff from the effort of not letting himself get lost in your tight, wet walls. He wanted to fuck you so bad, but knew he had to go slow with it.

His hips moved slowly, each stroke feeling sweeter. He was certainly the biggest man you’ve ever been with, but he knew what he was doing. “Feels so good Ken, loving having you inside me,” you assured him.

“Love being inside you,” he replied, pace quickening, “You feel like fucking heaven.” You gasped as his lower torso brushed against your sensitive clit. “Fuck, keep squeezing me like that and I’m not gonna last.” Despite his words, he showed no signs of slowing. The sound of his hips hitting yours and your slick wetness filled the room. It made you blush, but also filled you with an aching need.

“So close,” you gasped. Draken laced his fingers between yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze.

“Let yourself go, angel, wanna feel your pussy cumming all over my cock.” His words worked magic over your body, sending you over the edge. Your mouth fell open as you cried his name in breathless ecstasy. “Fuck, so good. So fucking good.”

Seconds later you felt Draken’s cock twitching inside you, filling you with his release. You loved how warm and full it made you feel. You kissed up his neck as he slowed, letting you enjoy every last bit of it.

Finally he stopped, kissing you sweetly. “I think I might be in love with you,” Draken admitted. The vulnerability surprised you, but made you smile.

“I think I might love you, too.”

#draken smut #draken fic #draken x y/n #draken drabble #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers fanfiction #tokyorev x reader #tokyo rev smut #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo rev x you #draken headcanons

201 notes · View notes