#take the 'x' with a pinch of salt here

[the-modern-typewriter]

hey I'm so sorry if this is is an unwanted request, but I wanted to ask for a hero x villain story where the villain kidnaps? And tattoos the hero. I think it would be very fun and dramatic. A very permanent and painful reminder.

I really love your work, I've read pieces of your writing for years. Keep doing what you're doing <3

"Hold still, or it's going to be wobbly," the villain said. "Nobody wants a wobbly tattoo, do they? That's just lame."

The hero snarled at them, wordless, unable to do much more with the bit wedged in their mouth. It was, according to the villain, to stop the hero from biting through their own tongue. So, that was nice and reassuring.

They could struggle, but not enough to stop what was going to happen. The grip the villain's various lackeys had on them was too firm and unforgiving. Still - the presence of hands, instead of cold metal, tried to trick some part of their lizard brain into thinking they had a real chance of escape if they just tried hard enough.

They didn't. They knew they didn't. But they struggled all the same, eyes flashing, breath ragged. They'd been forced onto their back on something that looked a little like a dentist's chair, head pinned sideways to face the villain. They only had vague impressions of the rest of the room. Bright light.

The villain had pulled up a chair next to them with their kit.

"So," the villain said, in an affable sort of voice. "It's going to hurt a little, like we talked about. That's mainly because of the location." They began their work, carefully, and the hero squeezed their eyes shut. A whimper escaped them. It was not a little. "Ribs don't have a lot of fat, you see, and you're quite sensitive anyway. But you said that's where you'd get one, so, far be it from me to dictate."

The hero had said hypothetically they would get a tattoo on their ribs. Because it looked cool. They hadn't done any research and they certainly hadn't been serious about it. It had merely been idle conversation with someone they'd thought was their friend.

They'd also said that they would get a jellyfish, or maybe a small bird.

The hero tried to see what the hell the villain was doing, but they couldn't get a good look beyond the distressingly elegant curve of the villain's head.

"I figured you'd want to be conscious, though." The villain laughed, softly. "I wouldn't want to wake up and find out someone had just done something to me, you know? Makes it hard to process it. Freaky."

The hero swore at them. They liked to think the sentiment got through, even if it was just raw sound. Choked.

"You'll look so gorgeous when you're done, though," the villain said. "Don't worry. I'm a professional. I've done this loads of times before."

The hero knew that. That was the problem.

The villain's super-abilities were unusual enough that it had taken the hero far too long to realise that the villain had any, and that they were in fact a monstrosity rather than simply the sexy artist that the hero had met in a bar. Whatever the villain painted, wrote, inked or drew was woven through with their power. It could come alive. It could influence. It could harm or heal that specific area at the villain's whim.

It could, in short, do all manner of things that the hero did not want permanently etched into their skin.

Everyone close to the villain had a tattoo. It didn't bode well.

"Just breathe," the villain said. "You're doing so well. It will be easier on you if you relax."

The hero swore at them again. It didn't make them feel better.

The villain worked on them for what felt like hours. If it was a jellyfish, it was a truly massive jellyfish that curved all the way up their side. The hero still hadn't got a good look. At some point, they'd stopped writhing in the chair, exhausted.

They felt dazed when the villain finally lifted their head, meeting their eyes again. The villain brushed a tear away from the hero's cheek. It reminded the hero to jolt again, but the hands on them remained as relentless as ever.

Another small, involuntary sound left them.

Their skin felt hot. Sunburnt.

"All done," the villain said. They finally eased the bit out of the hero's mouth. "You should have some water. Are you going to drink it nicely?"

"What the hell did you do to me?" the hero demanded. Their voice was raspy.

"It's gorgeous. You'll love it. Water?"

"I don't want anything from you!"

"Good skin is important to good tattoos. But, hey." The villain shrugged. "I can't make you." They gestured for their lackeys to release the hero.

The hero surged up in an instant, fist already flying towards the villain's face. In an instant, their body froze, knuckles inches from the villain's face. It didn't matter how much they strained. They couldn't move.

The villain raised an eyebrow. "You'll want to make sure to keep it clean, to avoid any infection," the villain said. "And don't pick at it, okay? Stay out of the sun. No swimming."

"What did you do to me!?" It came out through gritted teeth.

The villain smirked at them. "I gave you a jellyfish. On the house. You're welcome."

The hero glared.

"That's what you wanted, right?" the villain asked.

"I didn't want this."

The villain shrugged. "I did, though. For the moment I saw you with your clothes off"

"You-" Words didn't feel enough to express the emotion that coursed through the hero at that. "I hate you."

"Yes, I get that quite a lot. I don't generally let it bother me. You do all look so pretty fuming, helpless, at my mercy."

The hero swallowed.

The villain waved a hand, and whatever strange paralysis had overtaken the hero, vanished. They staggered forward, nearly pitching into the villain's lap. The villain caught them to steady them, hands on their waist.

It should have been excruciating, to have the villain's hand on the tattoo, but instead there was a buzz of pleasure across the hero's skin that definitely wasn't normal. They wrenched back as quickly as possible, heart pounding.

Their fists curled, itching with the urge the punch again, but they didn't quite dare get close.

The villain beamed at them, eyes glittering with mirth, apparently knowing exactly what the hero was thinking.

"Now," they said. "Do you want a lift home? Or do you prefer to take a moment to recover here?"

"You're sick."

"I'm up and coming, darling. One day you'll thank me for it."

The hero peeled the bandage off the moment they were at home, alone, to try and get a good look at their new acquisition.

It was a jellyfish, just as the villain had said, inked in full colour and in exquisite detail and artistry. It seeped blue and purple into the hero's skin, with the smallest tinges of shimmering pink. The villain's initials were weaved into the jellyfish's umbrella, subtle to someone not looking for them. Small but there.

The hero didn't remember hitting the bathroom floor, only the dull feeling of their knees giving way beneath them as it all well and truly sunk in.

They could feel it against them. It was almost as if the tentacles were moving, gently, caressing their ribs. As if the villain's fingers were there, a ghost of a blazing touch.

They got a horrific amount of compliments about the damn thing.

[oxymorayuri]

❞𝐍𝐨 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬❝

ShortFic

here the overview. ♡♡♡

✦ Pairing: Portgas D. Ace x Reader ✦ Warnings: cussing/language, use of alcohol, mature content ✦ Spoiler: none

wordcount: 6328

It annoys you that you're starting to develop feelings for Ace. Unlike you, he's just unreliable, messy and has no brains. Sure he's hot as the sun but how can a woman like you be into a guy like him?

! ᴍᴀᴛᴜʀᴇ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ !

ᴍɪɴᴏʀꜱ ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴀᴄᴛ

𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐓: Xuan

"Hey gorgeous, watcha doing?" With his stupid big grin, he steals the sun you were enjoying a moment ago. You exhale a little annoyed but don't look up from your book. You calmly flip the page.

"Isn't it obvious?" It comes from your lips. You sound rather bored by his unnecessary question, but it's impossible to ignore the displeased undertone.

"Mmm bitey as always…" Any other man would be offended, would insult you and leave but Ace finds it quite amusing. He finds it rather fun that you're not throwing yourself at his feet.

Your eyes remain on the words in your book. You won't grant Ace the satisfaction of giving him a single glance. You would only be forced to look at his sly smile and his splendid torso. Gross.

"Okay, let me see what you're reading?" Ace's hand reaches for your book and now he is the one flipping through it. You are a little perplexed, your hands still in the air as if you had the book in your hands, but the confusion quickly fades and you stand up, annoyed.

You want to take the book away from him but all your efforts are in vain because he skillfully keeps you at a distance. You accept your defeat and cross your arms in front of your barely dressed chest.

You just wanted to sunbathe a little before you drop anchor ashore, but Ace has to annoy you again.

Your eyes rest on his utterly beautiful lips. You despise yourself for your thoughts while he reads a few lines from your book, but you listen to him intently and after each sentence you have to laugh a little at his comments even though you roll your eyes. He looks pretty hot as he tries to analyze your book... with a strained expression, he thinks about those things he read.

"…That's why Cunt describes the awakening, or rather: the awakening, of reason as a second birth…." he quietly mumbles the rest to himself "…a beginner who is able to begin for himself….????" He frowns very hard and gestures at the book.

"Who the hell understands that!" You put one hand on your hip and snatch the book from him, with a puff of annoyance.

"First of all, I understand it and secondly, it's pronounced Kant and not Cunt!" - "Yea sounds the same…"

He seems confused but doesn't quite understand that he has just named one of your favorite philosophers a cunt. You roll your eyes again, you've done that so many times now, that you should be getting dizzy.

Arrogantly, you walk past him and toss your hair over your shoulder. Ace's confusion quickly fades as he inhales your sweet, floral scent, which has a pinch of salt from the fresh ocean breeze.

"I'll soften you up, y/n." He calls after you and without you turning to face him, you flash him your middle finger.

Once in the kitchen, you made yourself a drink to calm your nerves. You know that you're a pretty deep woman, but you've experienced several times that men aren't interested in woman like you.

As soon as someone realizes how smart or intellectual you are, they simply turn their back on you. You are sick and tired of people only liking you for your appearance but not your inner self. Why is that? Is it too exhausting for them? Are they too stupid?

You exhale in frustration and throw a straw into your drink. This is the very reason why you are not happy, that you like Ace. He's not exactly the brightest candle on the cake, but he has that special spark, that makes you want to keep your eyes on him. What if he just wants to get his hands on you and then throws you away like the others?

"You're groaning a lot again, little lass…" You flinch as if lightning struck you and you slowly turn around, only to see Marco drinking his coffee and browsing through the newspaper without looking at you.

"Gosh Marco… Tell me you're here, jeez!" You put your hand on your chest while leaning against a wooden plank.

The man looks up at you from his newspaper with an raised eyebrow.

"I was here first." He rustles the paper briefly to get it back into shape and turns his attention back to the latest headlines.

"Besides, how can you be so blind and not notice me? It's not like I'm hiding here…" Mumbles the commander of the first division. You stop as you sip your drink.

He's right. He's obviously sitting at the table. You should have seen him when you came in, but you seem to be too absorbed in your own thoughts.

"Whatever, sorry."

You wave him off as you walk back out the door.

The sun greets you directly and you notice that the deck is a little busier. Apparently we'll be docking ashore soon. You're walking across the deck towards the railing when someone calls out to you.

"Hey y/n you should start getting ready, we'll be in Mocktown in 10 minutes." Says Jozu, who is hauling in the sail with a few shipmen.

"Thanks boss!" You call out to your commander.

You could already see it in the distance, the island of Jaya. You quickly made your way to your private cabin. Of course you don't want to go ashore completely in a bikini, even if the weather is good, but Mocktown is still a criminal city and you have no desire to be seen as a cheap prostitute.

You quickly put on a short pleated skirt, attach your gun holster to your thigh and for a moment you think about whether you should just leave your bikini on or put on a shirt. You shrug your shoulders and think to yourself, why not?

Even if some idiots whistle after you, you'll always be at the safest place in the world with your crew members. After all, you're one of the Whitebeard pirates.

Just before you were about to go ashore with Whitey, you stop on your heels.

You watch as Ace is already on land, in the company of a few lightly dressed girls. You can see how much he enjoys being wooed by the beautiful women. He's such a show off. You think to yourself as you roll your eyes.

"Well well, where are your eyes going again, sweetie." It wasn't a question... Whitey knows exactly who you're watching as she stands next to you at the railing. She rests one elbow on the railing and puts her chin in one hand.

"Just look at him… The way he flaunts himself in front of those chicks and acts like a clown... bleurgh..." Not in a million years would you admit that the show Ace gives these women is fucking dope. He plays with his devil fruit power like a fire eater, juggling fireballs, surrounding himself with flames and giving the ladies a little show.

It clearly annoys you and somehow you don't like it, that the ladies are allowed to admire Ace so obviously.

You don't think twice and start to act. You point one finger in Ace's direction and move your index finger in small circular movements.

Behind Ace, who is still playing with his fire, the water on the shore rises without anyone noticing. When the water is high enough, you pull your finger slightly to the right and all the water falls on Ace and extinguishes him.

Steam rises from Ace as he stands in front of the women, drenched in water. He tries to shake some of the water off him, which makes you laugh.

You quickly leave the ship with your friend and together you go to your troop of the third division.

Whitey hooks her arm into yours and comes a little closer to your ear so no one can hear her words.

"You jealous, beastly bitch…" You give her a humming laugh. You may be jealous, but what does it matter? That crush will soon fade away anyway.

While you and Whitey ran a few errands for the whole crew, Jozu waited for you and watched who went in and out of the store. Two beautiful women like you need to be protected in a shady place like this. It's not that you're weak, it's more like a rule.

You came out of the store with a lot of bags. Jozu's eyes widened as he looked over the bulging shopping bags.

"What have you bought again? Do we really need all this?" He questioned but also grabbed all the purchases to carry them for you.

You look up at the tall man with a raised eyebrow.

"Well listen Jozu. You're lucky we do this shopping, if we didn't, we could wipe our asses with meat because food is all YOU think about!" You boldly point your finger at your commander, who shrinks back a little with beads of sweat on his face.

A nervous laugh escapes his lips and he apologizes quietly.

"Save it boss. At least we can decide what quality the paper is. The last person who was responsible for this basically bought sandpaper!" You complain with your arms crossed as you walk down the street. The commander and Whitey laugh at your little tantrum, but your walk is suddenly interrupted when a small child falls in front of you and different items fall from his arms.

Bread and fruit rolled across the ground and to your feet. The boy hastily jumped up and picked up the food. You didn't hesitate and went straight to the ground to help the child. You immediately notice how anxiously the child looks around and seems to want to get away very quickly.

"Hey are you okay kiddo?" You ask carefully with so much care in your voice, which is rarely heard from you. You are known for being quick and merciless, but with children you become a big sis.

The boy, no more than 8 years old, looked up at you with fear in his eyes when he saw the Jolly Roger on your skirt. Again he dropped his food, fell to the ground and frantically scrambled backwards. Meanwhile, you can hear an angry mob in the distance. You suspect the boy has stolen the food by the look of him.

No shoes, torn clothes and a dirty face. The sight makes you sad; it reminds you of yourself. You were just like him before Whitebeard took you in.

You stand protectively in front of the boy and Jozu and Whitey also stand around the boy so that he is protected from all sides.

You keep your hand ready to draw your revolver in case of need. The angry people shout and demand that you hand the boy over, but you're definitely not going to do that. The little boy didn't even steal much and from the looks of it, the food seemed more like scraps that the stores threw in the trash.

You click your tongue. You can't believe they get so angry when it's just a few pathetic scraps. You lose your patience and in the blink of an eye you've already shot all the angry people in front of their feet. The people were visibly frightened by your speed and people around you started whispering.

"Oh my god it's the Whitebeard pirates!" - "Look! Jozu, the commander of the third devision…" - "And isn't that the right hand; the Revolver?"

By Revolver, they mean you. That's your nickname, but only for the rest of the world. In fact, you have to thank the Marines for that cool nickname. They didn't know your real name because you were just a teenager living on the street, you were born without a name.

Back then you were already pretty good with a revolver, it helped you keep yourself afloat but it was a dirty life. You quickly became known to the Marines and had your own wanted poster with the name 'Revolver'.

Then one day you came across Whitebeard and you set your mind on robbing him... You knew who he was but you were ignorant and thought you were faster than him but you were definitely no match for Whitebeard... You could count yourself lucky because he saw potential in you and asked you to join his crew.

Whitebeard was also the one who gave you your name and since then you see it as your duty to make him proud as a daughter.

You suddenly heard a man's voice calling from above and your gaze went up to the roofs.

"Hey, what's with all the ruckus?" The sun blinds you a little and with squinted eyes you could make out Ace's silhouette. Ace landed in front of you with a wave of fire and the people froze, no longer looking angry but more like they were shitting their pants. One of them took to his legs in his hands and screamed as he ran away.

"Nope, the commander and the revolver are already a big deal, but you can't survive Ace's devastating fire!" Ace just laughed like a fool and held his stomach as he watched the wimps make a run for their lives.

Your attention was on the boy who threw himself crying into your arms. You stroked his head and Jozu and Whitey picked up the food again.

"Hm, unfortunately the food is already pretty dirty… you can't eat that." Whitey whispered to Jozu.

When you notice a shadow above you, you look up at Ace, who was looking at the boy with a serious face. The look surprised you quite a bit, There is no trace of his usually playful expression that Ace always has.

He crouches down to you two and reaches into his pocket to pull out a bag.

"Hey little guy, do you live alone?" The little boy sniffled heavily before answering him.

"No, I live with my mother and two brothers..." - "Heyyyy, I have two brothers too!" The boy turned around. The fact that Ace was talking to him seemed to calm him down a little. No wonder, Ace had once again made a unique appearance and looked like a cool superhero. You watch Ace interact with the boy.

"Really?" - "Yeah, I'm the oldest of the three of us!" The boy wiped the tears from the corners of his eyes.

"I'm also the oldest of us…" - "Yeah, that's what I thought… You just wanted to look after your family, didn't you?" Ace said as he looked at the food. The tears rolled down his dirty cheeks again as the boy nodded in agreement.

"You know what? This should be enough for now... buy plenty of food with it and make sure no one catches you with that much money!" Ace placed a sack full of money in the boy's hand. The weight caused the boy's slender hand to drop a little and his eyes widened with tears.

"Are you serious?" Ace just smiled at him with a nod and patted him on the head. He straightened up again and your eyes went up to him, mesmerized by his kindness. He gave him quite a lot of money and once again you found another reason to like Ace. The way he treated the child warms your heart, but inside you curse yourself...

When you arrived at the pub, you took a seat in a corner, where a few others from your division were already sitting and the waiters brought you your drinks.

Ace, on the other hand, begged and pleaded with the owner of the bar to let him pay later, but the owner knows the area and doesn't trust anyone to pay their debts.

You could no longer stand to watch your second commander beg a measly bartender and with an annoyed groan you made your way over to Ace.

"What do you want Ace." You say coolly, not even looking at him. Ace quickly realizes what you're up to and his sad face turns to joy.

"Food and booze!" He puts his hands together as if worshipping you. You somehow like that he makes himself small and a tiny smile appears on your face.

"Let the man order what he wants, I'll pay for it." - "Awww y/n, you got something good with me!" You raise an eyebrow as you look into his wide grin. He's pretty close to you and you draw in your breath inaudibly as your heart threatens to explode but you don't let it show on the outside.

Before your face turns completely red, you turn around and go back to your seat.

How you missed just sitting in one of those shabby pubs, laughing with your comrades while prying ears tried to listen to the stories you could tell.

But today it's all about fun and relaxing, so there's nothing important for the shady characters around to catch. Anyway, you wouldn't be stupid enough to discuss important things in public. Maybe their eyes are only on you because they are curious or even tense.

With every sip of your drink, the desire to mess with one of the dark figures increases. You're in the mood for a bar fight, because the last few weeks have been pretty quiet.

You were undercover in Alabasta for a long time and two weeks ago your crew picked you up again. You're glad to be out of there. All that sand and the dry air has damaged your skin and you've really missed life on the Moby Dick.

You realized that a lot had changed during your absence, because suddenly there was a new commander. The commander of the second division to be precise. Jozu had informed you about the latest events from time to time, but you hadn't expected Ace.

"Hey doll, I've never seen you here before…" A halfway attractive guy blabbered at you from the side while swaying and leaning onto your table.

Your eyes shift to the side without moving your head. That guy reeks of alcohol... Brave of him to talk to you, but maybe this could be the entertainment you've been looking for?

Your lips are curled in to a malicious smile. You look up at him with your dreamy eyes.

"What's up, big boy?" you wink at him in a seductive voice. You can probably get a few drinks out of him while thinking about how much money you've already spent, since Ace drinks like a hangover is just a rumor... If the drunk refuses, you can always blow a bullet through his head and be done with him.

It was easier than you thought to wrap the rascal around your fingers and he bought not only you a drink but also the others! You almost felt sorry for him when you pulled his wallet out of his coat but well… you're a thief and a pirate. It's his own fault because he couldn't take his eyes off you. It was just too easy.

"Ohhh y/n that was really nasty again. The poor guy really thought you fancied him."

You answer your commander with a little dirty laugh. Unconcerned, you shrug your shoulders and sip your newly snatched drink, paid with the money you stole from the guy whose name you don't even remember.

"'Aww come on… it's funny. The 'poor' guy, as you call him, will arrive at the hotel, go to the room and meet whoever the hell is there!" you laugh diabolically until tears gather in your eyes. You're not the only one laughing… the others are laughing too and even Jozu has to admit to himself that it's hilarious.

You've done this a couple of times and every time you've proved how dick driven guys can be...

You really played with that guy's mind when you flirted with him. Little random touches and your laughter sounded so sincere as he told his stories... But in the end, guys usually want more than just to sit in a pub with you, so you always come up with something new.

On the way to the pub you saw a hostel… So you wrote down that exact hostel and a room number on a piece of paper. You told him that you would meet him there later at 8 pm because you still wanted to have some fun with your crew and the idiot believed you.

Whitey started to laugh, she seemed to be imagining the whole thing.

"I wonder who he'll run into in that room?" You all burst out laughing. Too bad you won't find out.

The evening went pretty well and you have to admit that Ace is a pretty cool guy. He was one of the few who raised the mood and you kept catching each other sneaking glances.

The table gradually emptied until only Jozu, Whitey, Ace and you were left. Jozu told you the story how Ace wanted to kill Whitebeard at the beginning. The stories made you laugh like crazy. You were already stupid, but killing Whitebeard? That's crazy.

You caught Ace blushing a little and scratching his head in shame while Jozu was talking, but he let Jozu talk about his stupid actions. Because of his sweet expressions, your laughter slowly died down as you looked up at him. Over time, your seats had changed so that you were sitting between Whitey and Ace and you press your elbow into his side.

"Oh don't make such a face Ace. I think that makes you really likeable!" Like the buddy you are, you raise your drink to him and symbolize that you want to clink glasses with him.

Ace froze for a moment because of you. He wasn't used to you beeing like this but he actually likes this side of you. He returns your grin and clinks glasses with you.

Usually you're not that bitchy. You get along with everyone. Ace is the only one you were so distant with from the start, and not just because he swept you off your feet. It sounds shallow, but from the first moment you saw him, you felt a spark inside you. A slight tickle in your chest.

The real reason for your cold manner is rather because he was given the position of commander of the second division. You worked really hard for the position and were one of the few candidates, but suddenly he comes along aaaand gets the job. You didn't even know that Ace was the one when he stood in front of you. It was only later that Jozu told you that he was the one who got the job and the spark in you shattered like a mirror.

But you have to admit that Ace is still doing a good job. He's actually pretty strong. You remember how some wannabe pirates tried to attack you, but Ace quickly wiped them out by setting their ship on fire. It was kind of beautiful… this burning ship in the middle of the ocean…

"Hey girl what are you thinking about?" Whitey nudges you while you're lost in thoughts holding your chin in your hand.

"Ace…" you babble, responding directly to her question but in a rather absent manner. All of you react immediately to your answer…

Whitey looks at you with a raised eyebrow while Ace freezes as he drinks. You quickly realize that you've somehow admitted that you were thinking about Ace. Oh dear, you probably had a little too much to drink… You straighten up and clear your throat.

"…Ace… tell me… where are you from?" You try to rock the boat, even though you think it's in vain, but luckily for you, the dark haired man answers you and joins in ignoring what you just said. The mood is a little awkward, but from the outside you don't allow to show any signs of embarrassment… On the inside, however, you're ripping the hair from your head in humiliation.

"Oh dear, look at the clock, it's almost 8pm… I think I'd better get back to the Moby before that guy comes back after he finds out I'm not staying at that hostel." A little slyly, you laugh into your hand as you stand up.

"I should go with you…" Ace gets right up and wants to follow you "…you know, in case you run into him and need some firepower." You look back over your shoulder at him and grin as he forms a finger gun with his hand and shoots little balls of fire.

"Do what you gotta do Firefist…" You voiced his name a little sexier than you intended, but you're so drunk right now that you don't give a fuck.

As you walked side by side through the dark alleys, you had the feeling that you didn't want the evening to end. You are alone with Ace. No one would tease you for it, seeing how well you get along with him all of a sudden…

"Hey Ace… Wanna go flick some rocks on the waterside?" He looks at you a bit surprised, while you continue to look ahead.

"Yeah sure, sounds fun!"

And so it came that the two of you were flicking stones over the water's surface a little away from the city. You made it a competition to see how many times you could bounce the stone on the water and you expected nothing less than Ace to have a good hand.

You watch him as he skillfully swings out from the hip to throw the pebble. His muscles twitched slightly as he released the tension in his body. It's a good thing he runs around without a shirt…

As you both watch the stone splash across the surface, Ace breaks the silence.

"Listen y/n, I know you were supposed to get the commander's spot and I think you would have pretty much rocked the position…" You perk up at his words…

I would have got the position? You've never heard that before. Ace had to grin a little when he saw your questioning face.

"Yes, Edward told me that he wanted to leave the second division to you… But in the end he decided against it." You both took a seat on the beach and you looked thoughtfully at the open sea.

What made him choose Ace as commander and not me? What does he have, that I don't?

Ace finally gets a chance to look at your face in peace. You look so harmless and gentle as you gaze out to the sea. Your eyes literally shine due to the moon's reflection in the water.

"Do you want to know why?" You turn your head and look directly into his black eyes.

"Sure…" you answer a little absently as you look repeatedly at his lips. Ace leaned back, propped himself up on his elbows and looked up at the starry sky.

"He told me a lot about you, how he took you in and how he views you. He treats us all like his children, but he once said to me that if he had a daughter, she would definitely be like you…" You pull your legs towards you and hide your smile. You know he treats you a little differently from the others, that's definitely no secret.

Even though you were thirteen when he took you in, he was the parent you've always longed for. He raised you and taught you your values. He has a great influence on you…

Even though these words flatter you, they don't satisfy you. You lean back and cross your arms behind your head.

"Well, if I mean that much to him, he should name me commander of the first division!" You say cheekily, but more in a funny way. Ace bursts out laughing and lies on his side to look at you.

"I don't know why either… I think you're super strong…" His praise is like music to your ears and it makes you even happier that he doesn't stop.

"I've heard the name Revolver a few times, but your wanted poster didn't reveal much about your appearance… There were stories told around the taverns… about the legendary Revolver shooting faster than his shadow and being quick as lightning." You start to laugh.

"Sounds like a cowboy." Ace looks down at himself, smirking, and you stop laughing when you notice him taking off his hat.

"The only thing missing is the hat…" he whispers to you as he puts his hat on your head. For a moment, you find yourselves trapped in the endless silence. You have already blocked out the sound of the waves and the only thing you can hear is Ace's breathing.

You think you've never looked into someone's eyes for so long before and if you're honest, you don't intend to look away. You catch your breath as Ace brushes a strand of hair out of your face and as a response to his warmth, you slightly open your mouth.

"The first time I saw you on the Moby Dick, talking to Whitebeard, I knew you were the special daughter, but I would never have guessed you were also the Revolver." - "Ah yes?" You ask him a little provocatively, meanwhile you've also rolled onto your side so that you're both facing each other with your upper bodies.

Ace is giving you a hard time, as he absently goes with his teeth over his lips, while looking down to gather his words.

"I actually thought the legendary Revolver was a guy who could be a good mate." His eyes glance past you as he grins a little sheepishly.

"Oh are you disappointed that I'm not a guy?" - "Quite the opposite…" He carefully moves his hand over the sand until he touches your fingers like it's just pure coincidence. You don't quite react to his touch, you're more interested in what he says next.

"You're also not from bad parents, Firefist…" The heated atmosphere between you is hard to ignore. Ace finally dares to lean down towards you and you can already see what's coming. You place a finger on his lips and gently press him back.

"But I don't have time for playing games with boys…" Your words escape your lips in a whisper as you search his eyes for a reaction.

"I'm not a boy y/n, I'm a man." He couldn't have said it better. His words trigger feelings in you that you desperately want to explore and lightly you support yourself to rest your lips on his.

The kiss is so gentle and innocent, as if your lips have to get used to the incredible feeling. The fire that Ace ignites in you is a thousand times stronger than anything you've ever felt before and yet your lips barely touched.

Your chest expands with excitement as Ace increases the pressure on your lips and grabs the back of your neck with one hand. You lean back slightly and enjoy the feeling of his hold.

"Ace?" You break the kiss and speak softly against his lips.

"I don't want to share a man. I want you all to myself, you understand?" You know that Ace is a womanizer and you have the feeling that he could break your heart… no matter how much you enjoy this… you're still crew members.

"I'd be crazy if I didn't take Whitebeard's favorite seriously…" Ace's words on your lips make everything in your stomach twist and somewhat out of control, you lean against him. You want to feel his fire.

You don't hesitate for long and your lips quickly meet again. This time neither of you takes the time because this rising feeling is so strong that you both have to let it out.

Ace's other hand wanders along your side while still holding the back of your neck. The tingling sensation gathers directly in your lower middle and you throw your arms around his neck, causing Ace to fall backwards a little. Eagerly, you explore his upper body with your fine fingers and go up and down his muscular frame.

While Ace gains access into your mouth, he pulls you by your arm onto his lap so that you sit on him without your lips parting once.

You begin to feel like you're craving another body for the very first time and slightly out of breath, you pull away from his lips.

You look down at Ace as he stares up at you with hungry eyes. His gaze is already so fucking hot and you long for more reactions in his face.

Your hand goes lightly to your back to undo the bow of your bikini but Ace stops you.

"Let me touch you y/n…" His voice is deeper than usual and there's something so playful about it that you can't help but surrender to him completely.

Ace's hands wander along your side until his hands are on your breasts. You've been used to the cool air for a long time, but it's Ace's hands that gives you goose bumps as they brush against your bare skin. Your nipples harden as Ace brushes your bikini top aside.

For a moment, he enjoys your womanly curves and the way the moon glistens on your skin.

"You're so fucking hot…" Ace suddenly comes up to you and pulls you into an intense French kiss. You rest your hands on his shoulders and moan slightly as he places skillful kisses on your neck. His hands rest on your hips only to push you back and forth on his lap with circular movements to relieve his arousal.

Ace knows exactly the right moves to get you going and caresses one of your nipples with his tongue while lightly pinching and pulling the other.

These overwhelming sensations make you laugh like a dirty whore as you start to move your hips to feel his erection against your wet panties. You are happier than ever that you are wearing a skirt today. But you don't want to have a dry fuck as you are far too wet for that. You want to feel Ace's dick sliding inside you…

You push Ace backwards and force him to lie down while you undo the belt of Ace's pants with your free hand.

"So we're about to get down to business, huh?" he grins dirtily at you as he crosses his arms behind his head. You run your tongue over your teeth and return his grin.

"We'll have plenty of time to explore each other thoroughly, darling." You wink at him and his breathing quickens a little as you grab his member to get it out of his pants.

Fascinated, you run your hand up and down his shaft, causing the otherwise ruthless man beneath you to whimper in relief. His cock gets a little firmer as your hand touches it, to which your cunt reacts in equal measure.

You lift yourself up a little, pull your slip to the side and place Ace's already hard cock in front of your entrance. As the tip of his cock touched your soft folds, a shiver ran down your spine and you slowly let its entire length disappear inside of you. As he filled you completely, Ace moaned in a deep, satisfied voice.

"That's never felt so good as it does now y/n…" His broken voice sends the next shiver down your spine and the growl in his voice runs through you.

At first you wanted to move slowly to get used to the filling sensation of his glory but Ace had other plans...

He bent his legs and started thrusting into you, sending you into bliss over and over again.

You're really glad that you're far away from anyone because you can fully indulge in the sensation and moan to your heart's content.

You have no idea how long this up and down has been going on, but you have the feeling that hours as well as just seconds could have passed.

You lean down to him to taste his lips on yours, but you pull away again because you enjoy it more when you straighten your back as Ace fills you up completely. You don't even think about stopping riding Ace and when you see his hat you somehow have the urge to put it on.

With some effort you reach for Ace's hat which was lying in the sand and put it on while you enjoy riding him to the fullest. The sight of you topless, in just your skirt and his hat, is enough to drive Ace crazy. He can barely contain his voice and moans like he's never done before.

"Mhhm yeah, ride me, cowgirl." His voice a little hoarse and dangerous.

That's probably the second nickname you really like.

Oh Ace.... ♡

➽ Next chapter

[quokkawritesarchive]

Oh okay! Yes you can write the second idea of Hyunjin jerking off to the thought of being with a guy while reader watches and guides him💝

GUIDANCE — HYUNJIN.

pairing: hyunjin x reader(afab) genre: smut, NSFW warnings: drunk characters, mutual masturbation, voyeurism, slight degradation, breath play, choking on fingers a/n: IM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER! i had SUCH a hard time coming up with a plot for this, so yeah… i don’t know if it’s cringe or not but here we are. first part of the ask is here!

today was one of those nights when random confessions were made. you have never been a party girl, but your best friend hyunjin convinced you to go.

“c’mon, it’s the last party of the semester. we have to go.”

the thing is he totally forgot about the fact that he was not a party type either. so now you two were sitting in someone’s room upstairs with a bottle of tequila, talking about the most random topics. you’ve been best friends for years, so there were no secrets left to share.

well, at least that’s what you were thinking.

“you know…” hyunjin stumbled over his words and gave up on continuing a sentence.

“mhm?” the alcohol flowing down your throat burned, but you just loved that feeling - mushy brain, thoughts not forming into one. “know what?”

“nevermind. we’re both drunk, i don’t think it’s time to share shit like that.” he shook his head.

the sound of blasting music downstairs was giving you a sort of comfort. for some reason, it felt so cozy sitting here with hyunjin while a bunch of people were losing their minds just below you.

“no-no, tell me. now is the perfect time to share what’s on your mind, jinnie.” you put a hand in his shoulder in assurance. “c’mon. take another shot for confidence, if you need.”

and he did. it was honestly impressive how two of you managed to drain half the bottle already.

you had run out of lemons a long time ago, so now there was only pure alcohol and some pinches of salt in your veins.

you could swear you weren’t an alcoholic.

“i think i’m bi.” hyunjin said so suddenly, you almost choked on a shot you were about to take. “i’ve been having these thought for a while, but the more i think about it, the more i’m sure.”

“oh! that’s great, jinnie! i’m so proud of you, thank you for telling me.” you were a little taken aback from the sudden confession. no one ever came out to you before, so you couldn’t quite figure out what to say and how to comfort him. not forgetting the fact that you were still drunk.

“yeah… like every time i think of blowing a guy, i just get an instant boner. is that normal?”

nevermind. you were not drunk anymore. with eyes widened, you looked over at your best friend, who was sitting next to you with the booziest expression on his face.

you figured that he was just saying what he was thinking at the moment, not giving it much of a thought. but the wording that he chose made your mind clear in a matter of seconds.

and hyunjin didn’t stop.

“it’s just… i don’t know if you get it, but i need to get my mouth stuffed with cock. i want to choke on it, gag cause it hit the back of my throat.”

“that’s called being horny and touch-starved, jinnie.” you tried to laugh it off while your pussy started to pulsate in your panties. you’d be lying if you said you weren’t touch-starved yourself. and the staggering speech hyunjin just gave made your panties start to soak through.

“i know. but like i also had a quickie with a girl from my class last week and then i realized that deep down i desperately want a guy touch my dick. i just wanna know how it’d feel….” he sighed in frustration, settling comfier on the floor.

hyunjin closed his eyes, while those filthy words kept coming out of his mouth. the room seemed to float around him like a boat, and his voice was raspy and quiet. he was drunk. so drunk, but you did not dare to stop him. you knew it was wrong and could potentially ruin your friendship. but... you couldn't help it. hearing hyunjin talk like that made a knot in your stomach tighten even more. he sounded so hot, even if it was because he was thinking of a guy.

you decided that wouldn't do anything until hyunjin stops himself. god, you felt like a pervert, listening to him in such state. it was supposed to be private and intimate information. you’ve never shared something like this with each other. you had to stop him. you needed to stop him.

“jinnie-“

“and then i'd ask him to cover my nose while he holds his cock in my mouth. and-“ his hand was already dipping past the waistband, halting at the bottom of his stomach.

should you stop watching? keep watching?

“hyunjin!”

he finally snapped out and looked at you. the sight of you with your mouth open made him chuckle. “sorry. shit! sorry- i guess i am too drunk and horny.”

strained silence settled in the room for a while. it was for the best. it was morally correct to stop him. of course, friends shouldn’t discuss something like that and he was about to touch himself in front of you.

the thoughts were spinning in your head as you kept fighting with your drunk brain. but at the end… it won.

“how often do you jerk off to these thoughts?” you said quietly as you stared at hyunjin in curiosity. “of a guy touching you-“

he glared at you pointedly. "does it matter?”

“well… just wanna make sure that you know what feels good for you, before you have a quickie with a guy-”

hyunjin’s eyes snapped wide open as your face flushed red, as if you hadn't meant to voice out your previous statement so blatantly.

“you wanna see me jerk off? is that what you’re saying?” he kept looking at you, studying your embarrassed face with his dark eyes. it was so unexpected from you. but something about the thrill of touching himself in front of you... made him so fucking horny.

after receiving a nod from you, slowly, his hand slid back to his waistband, but didn’t stop now. then he pulled the pants down just enough to expose his underwear and grinded his hand over his hardening dick. the rough material rubbed against his sensitive head, making him sob quietly. a little wet spot where his cock was tenting the material could already be seen. it was almost embarrassing how quickly he got hard.

as soon as him palm fully covered his groin, he let out a loud groan and bit his lip to silence himself. even though the music was still blasting downstairs and constant chatter could be heard down the corridor, hyunjin was worried that someone would hear him.

“don’t stop… please-” you spoke; voice muffled out of embarrassment. “i like the noises you make.” 

hyunjin didn’t even have time to be embarrassed because the urge to touch himself was stronger. he repeated the movement with his palm, a soft whimper leaving his lips. in his head, he heard a man’s voice teasing him, cooing over his inability to temper the moans, offering to shut him up with a cock.

the cool air wrapped around the flesh as he finally freed it out of the boxers. his dick immediately fell back against his lower stomach, making you choke on your spit. you’ve never thought you see your best friend’s dick. but there it was - hard and already leaking with precum.

unexpectedly, hyunjin spit on his palm and grabbed his dick roughly. the dirtiness of the act turned you on even more. he savoured that first proper stroke, the shift from teasing to gratification. his mind, already slow and quiet, emptied altogether. he started slow, not allowing himself the full pleasure. precum dripped out of his cock, and he opened his eyes for a second to see how it smeared between the pads of his fingers. the slow moves of his fist united with the slick sounds of saliva and precum spreading all over his length.

you couldn’t keep you eyes off hyunjin. his hands, his throbbing dick, the soft moans leaving his parted lips…

"AH that's so good... that feels so good- FUCK!" he moaned, hips jerking up frantically.

“what are you thinking about?” you asked, fighting with the urge to touch yourself too.

hyunjin answered immediately, ignoring how embarrassed and dirty it made him feel. “there is… a guy on campus. we hanged out a couple of times. and all i could think about is the outline of his dick in his pants. fuck!” he squeezed himself harder at the memory. “everytime he turned away i stared at it like a pervert. i was just trying to not bust in my pants the entire time.”

you quietly laughed at his confession, but continued to play along. “does he have a big cock?”

“oh my god YES! i would give anything to be able to see it- to touch it- to have it on my tongue-“ he moaned pathetically, moving his fist faster. the thoughts made him even more desperate.

“okay, i want you to think about him, jinnie. can you do that for me?”

hyunjin nodded frantically.

“imagine as his hands would slide up your thighs…” with that, your moved your palms in said direction. “then he would touch your hard cock and tell you how pathetic you look right now.”

the desperate moan left hyunjin’s lips as your hand captured his throbbing shaft. you pumped it a couple of times and spread the wetness and a new portion of precum with your thumb down his shaft.

“he’d start jerking you off fast, making you squirm from his touch.” the movements of your hand became rougher. “he would see how close you are. the flush on your neck… your cheeks… the way your breath hitches when he touches you.“

the breath stuck in hyunjin’s throat. he refused, he didn't want to accept the situation. but most of all, he was afraid that he would regret it in the morning, when the drunkenness would pass and only the bitterness of the alcohol would remain on his tongue.

the movement of your hand brought him back to reality. he no longer held back the sounds, moans becoming shamelessly louder.

you were panting and absolutely soaking through your underwear. unable to restrain any longer, you finally started to rub yourself over your underwear. gosh… the amount of arousal you could feel was making the pads of your fingers wet. you were absolutely drenched and soaked down there. and that happened because of hyunjin - your best friend.

you focused on pumping his dick with your other hand and finally slid your fingers into your underwear to circle your clit. the amount of wetness that you smeared on the folds only increased the sensitivity.

you didn't even notice how hyunjin opened his eyes and was staring at you, studying how you were running your fingers inside your underwear, how your eyes closed with pleasure. he groaned and his dick twitched in your hand harder.

“fuck- you look so hot like this.” hyunjin choked out, breathing heavily through the nose.

his gaze only confused you even more, so you mumbled softly in response. “close your eyes again, jinnie. ‘m close.”

he obeyed, letting you work closer to your release on your own. two of you got worked up so quickly, even though just recently you discussed the topic of how hard it is to take exams.

the rush of pleasure hit you fast and heavy. your back arched and you mouth opened in a silent scream. thankfully, hyunjin’s eyes were closed, so he didn’t see your cumming face. at least that’s what you thought.

when you opened your eyes after you came, the sudden idea popped up in your mind.

“open your mouth, jinnie.” you whispered.

he complied and you put your fingers in his mouth experimentally and.. oh god. hyunjin started sucking on them harshly, tasting off your arousal. he slid his tongue on your digits, making them slick with his saliva. his eyes were still shut and you could swear he was imagining a dick instead of your fingers.

unexpectedly, even to yourself, you moved your other hand from the dick to his nose, blocking the breathing.

hyunjin’s eyes widened in surprise at first, but gradually turned into satisfaction. he closed his eyes again, sucking on your fingers even harder than before.

“look at you. so pathetic. are you getting off to this?” you spat out, stuffing your fingers further in his mouth.

he choked slightly, mostly because of the suddeness. muffled moans became louder. the abandoned cock was still standing in the air, new trickles of precum slowly continued to leak from the head.

“hAHHH!” he stammered when you finally took your fingers off his nose, tongue slurring over your fingers still in his mouth. “s-so good! so- good…”

his exhausted fucked out face only turned up the heat. returning your wet fingers to your underwear and collecting the remaining juices from your folds, you repeated the process, blocking his access to oxygen and thrusting your fingers into his mouth. hyunjin only mumbled something in pleasure, sucking on every millimeter of skin.

this time you held your fingers a little longer, but it only aroused him more. once you removed them, he took a deep breath in his chest and took a quick look at his dick. but it was enough for you to realize that he craved your touch down there.

“wanna cum, jinnie?” you cooed, gently running your hand through the veins on his neck, sending goosebumps all over his skin.

“yes-yes, please-“ he choked out, even though you only caressed the skin on his neck.

you brought your hand back to his wet shaft. it didn’t take even a couple of pumps from you to feel the load of sperm falling on your wrist. it was sticky and wet, but so unbelievably hot to feel his cum on your skin.

“i guess… now you know what you like, jinnie.” you said, licking off the droplets off your hand.

-> reblog to support me, if you enjoyed reading this and please let me know your thoughts in the comments! ♡

masterlist | taglist

TAGLIST (OPEN): @hanjisung-enjoyer @fun-fanfics @soonie1010 @noellllslut @newhope8 @channiebahngswife @chanscappuccino @vivioluh @rockstrhanji @yoontaethings @katsukis1wife @caitlyn98s @yaorzu-blog @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan

[peachsayshi]

Hello can I request a part 5 for the inexperienced reader where they finally do the deed? Thank you and I really love all your writings. You’re amazing!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ playboy geto x inexperienced female reader (part 4) ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

wc: 7,712

·˚ ༘₊· ͟͟͞͞꒰ previous parts: 1/2/3/4

minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.

notes: hi, nonnie! I haven't posted the official part 4 for playboy geto x reader, so here is an update! part 5 is the final part of this mini series and I am still figuring out the scenario for the big moment. I had this idea in my head and really wanted to write out. I hope you enjoy the update!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: other jjk characters are mentioned, virgin reader; lovesick geto & reader; hurt/comfort; the first fight; making up; smut; oral (f receiving); nipple play; overstimulation; fingering; practice makes perfect *wink wink*

There’s a downpour outside - a peaceful shower trapping you in a cocoon of stillness. Grey clouds collide, orchestrating a rumble of thunder to disperse across the horizon. You squeeze the glass of tea in your hand and breathe out a heavy sigh as you continue observing the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance.

Standing in pensive thought, you find yourself contemplating why the sky isn’t a saturated blue, and why you are not wiping away grains of sand between your toes while tasting the salt in the air and getting kissed by the sun in the red bikini that you are wearing.

This is your first weekend away with Suguru and it was supposed to be perfect…magical even, but…

You haven’t exchanged more than a few of sentences with him in two whole days.

The truth forms as a discomforting lump in your throat. At this point you’re convinced that the turbulent events of this week is what conjured up such a dreadful storm to hijack your mini vacation, and you’ve been a bundle of nerves ever since because you’ve never had a fight with him before.

Not a real one, anyway.

Whenever a situation got remotely tense, your boyfriend would be the first person to jump in to talk things out. Suguru hated having petty arguments and always relied on strong communication to put out any fires before they set everything ablaze. You know it’s entirely unfair to put that expectation on him but, the truth is, you’ve grown used to him mediating, and depended on him to squash potential disagreements without question.

What you weren’t expecting was for things to escalate between you two because it’s never happened before, and now you aren’t sure how to proceed.

What if he leaves me?

The nauseating thought of a potential break up twists your gut, but you brush off your anxiety as you lift the cup to your lips and take another sip of soothing chamomile.

Couples fight, you think, it’s normal to fight.

Your fingers pinch the ceramic so hard, you feel it might crack from the pressure. You’ve tried to reach out since then, but Suguru remained unresponsive to your little gestures of peace.

Why is he still ignoring me?

You lean your head against the window and exhale, eyes fixated on the storm’s dramatic performance. A bolt of lighting crackles across the sky, channeling you back to the night on Suguru’s sofa just two weeks prior.

His fingers were trailing the outline of your thigh, keeping your body tucked perfectly into his frame. You were twirling a strand of his onyx hair between your fingers, listening to him proposition the idea of the weekend trip away.

“Yuki is one of my oldest friends. She lives in a beach house, so that’s where we will all stay…” he casually stated. “We visit her a couple of times a year, and I know she would love to meet you.”

You said yes without hesitation.

At the time, there was no need for you to question who Yuki was or how Suguru knew her. There was no need for you to pry deeper into the memories of his past because you were just living in the bubble of present happiness.

“We used to spend every summer at her beach house while I was in university,” Suguru informed you a few days later, slipping in that tidbit of information right after describing all the places he was excited to take you to. “I love that her beach house is so far away from the city. Plus, they have the best soba in the village. You’ll love it, I just know you will…”

This deep infatuation you shared for Suguru had your heart swelling up more often around him. Your valves were arrows to a compass that always spun directly towards him, your shining North Star. Your eyes were glazed over in a rosy shine of deep romance, making it hard for you to blink away the hue of its affection, but you should have taken a breath to catch yourself.

Maybe then you wouldn’t have reacted so harshly later on.

The ”problem”, as Suguru dubs it, happened two days before the trip.

Shoko invited you to join her and Utahime on a shopping date to pick up some new swim suits for the occasion. However, you weren’t expecting to see Mei Mei upon arrival. Your friendship with Shoko made it easier for you to blend in with the rest of Suguru’s group, but Mei always kept you at an arm’s length. For the most part, you approached any interactions with her with caution. You made sure you were nice and didn’t try to pursue anything beyond cordial conversations. Despite your attempts at playing cool, Mei continued making snide remarks about you being “Suguru’s Girl” and enjoyed addressing you condescendingly.

Truthfully, she treated you as if you were simply a stranger with one foot out the door and not the person who was in a committed relationship with her friend.

Your eyes, powdered with pink infatuation, had you feeling indifferent about her sharp tongue on this particular outing, and it made you loosely speak up about how excited you were to go on this trip with your boyfriend.

Your walls were completely down when Mei went in with a new attack while you were all having dinner together.

“It’s adorable how excited you are. Besides, I think it’s about time that you met Kiki…” she giggled, earning a glare from both Shoko and Utahime.

“Kiki?” you replied like a naive child, all wide eyed with an innocent pinch between your brow.

“Suguru didn’t tell you?” Mei coos as she proceeds to take a sip of her milkshake. “That’s his special nickname for Yuki. The two of them used to spend their summers together getting high and fucking. She was his first, you know…”

Your cheeks were stinging with embarrassment. You glanced over to both Shoko and Utahime, praying that one of them would denounce Mei’s confession.

Instead, Shoko shook her head with disapproval and simply added, “we all know that it wasn’t serious…”

“Wasn’t serious?” Mei interjected, her cruel eyes fixed on you. “Suguru was in love with her…”

“He wasn’t in love with her,” Shoko sternly answered. “They were friends. Don’t make up stories in your head”

Mei swirled her straw around her vanilla milkshake. “We are his friends too but that didn’t stop him from hooking up with us either. The only difference is that Yuki is the one who broke his heart afterwards. Suguru didn’t speak to her for an entire year...”

“How about you don’t stir up problems for no reason, Mei.” Utahime bit back, and Mei responded by rolling her eyes with mild disinterest.

“I’m not saying anything that isn’t true. Everyone at this table, except Shoko, hooked up with Suguru at one point,” she let out a pretty laugh, one laced with wicked intent. “Maybe this is something we can all bond over at the beach house. Compare notes and what not…”

“How about we dial back the bitchy attitude and put the subject to rest” Shoko interjected, and Mei merely huffed before sipping her milkshake with nonchalance.

Hot, heavy jealousy coiled around your skin, and you used every ounce of restraint not to pick up Mei’s drink and toss it right in her face. By the time your brain was able to connect the dots to formulate even a single sentence, the conversation swiftly moved onto another subject.

You reached for your soda, slurping the icy beverage in an attempt to cool yourself off.

This isn’t the first time that Suguru’s friends have made teasing comments about his past, but Mei took it too far.

The worst part about that god-awful interaction is that it was working out in her favor.

Why didn’t Suguru tell you?

The question sat in your head up until you returned home. You were in a bitter state, choosing to curb Suguru’s calls and ignore Shoko’s messages.

She still called you the next morning with a heartfelt apology.

“We’ve all known Mei for years so we put up with her attitude,” Shoko explained, “But you owe her no allegiance and what she did was uncalled for. I’m really sorry about that…”

“It’s fine, Shoko…” you insisted, but your tone was hard and defensive because it wasn’t fine and you barely got any sleep thinking about what she said.

“I had a long conversation with her last night, and she’ll be backing off from now on,” Shoko consoled.

“Great,” you answered through gritted teeth, trying your best not to hurl the phone at the wall.

“Look,” Shoko added on with a sigh, “I know Suguru doesn’t have the best track record and I know we all give him shit for it, but we also all know that we’ve been too hard on him. He really, really cares about you.”

Tears pricked your eyes. You wished those words were enough to sway you back but they felt just as empty as the space in your chest.

Why didn’t he tell me?

You couldn't stop wondering why.

The day before you left for the getaway, you were giving Suguru the coldest shoulder. He had come over to help you pack your things, but instead was left puzzled by your behavior.

You leaned away from his kisses, always tilting so he aimed for your cheek. You shrugged off his touch, pretending to busy yourself with searching through your closet and picking your outfits. You could feel his piercing stare from over your shoulder, those dark eyes dissecting the softest parts of you to get to the root of the problem. You tried to focus on the music from gently playing through the speakers, but as you walked over to your bag to pack another dress, Suguru quickly reached for your hips to drag you onto his lap.

“What’s wrong?” he asked seriously, his voice the tip of a sharp blade pressing into your heart.

You shook your head, caressing the fabric between your fingers. “Nothing, I have a headache,” you repeated firmly, sticking to the same excuse that you had given him earlier.

“Sweetheart,” he replied tenderly, your body stiffening when he brushed his lips over your shoulder to leave a contemplative kiss. “What’s actually wrong?”

You froze, your anger scalding your insides as it bubbled to the surface. You squeeze the dress between your hands, creasing the smooth surface. Suguru rests his chin on your shoulder, patiently waiting for you to at least acknowledge him.

“Is it true that you were involved with “your friend” Yuki?”

You hid your hurt with sarcasm, her name rolling off your tongue with a hint of disgust.

Suguru lifted his head from your chin, his fingers pinching against the fat of your hip while his other hand moved to reach for your jaw. He angled your face towards him, a pained expression masking over his breathtaking features.

“Who told you?”

“Mei,” you answered sharply, “apparently Shoko and Utahime know all about it too…”

“Look,” Suguru sighed, “it’s…it’s not what you think…”

“Did you to spend your summers getting high and fucking?” you interrupted harshly, mimicking the cruelty in Mei’s voice as you posed your question.

Suguru closed his eyes. “Yes.”

“Is it true that she was your first?” you asked, your voice wavering slightly this time.

“Yes, but…”

You rolled your tear soaked eyes as you stood up on your feet, tossing the dress into your bag as you folded your arms across your chest to give Suguru your back.

You weren’t sure what hurt more. The fact that Mei had all the ammunition in the world to hurt your feelings, or that she knew that your doting boyfriend would keep this from you.

Suguru stood up, carefully approaching you from behind as he extended his hand out to find your waist once more.

“Mei’s a gossip,” he contended, “I told you that when we first met…”

You spun on your heel to meet his anxious stare, drilling your fury right into him.

“That’s not the point,” you argued. “The point is that you lied to me! The point is that you spent weeks going on and on about “your friend” without even warning me that you were both intimately involved…”

“We put that shit behind us years ago. I didn’t want to bring it up, and I didn’t think I had to. Mei shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Didn’t think you had to?” you repeated with confusion.

“There was no reason to,” he replied with annoyance, his fingers digging into your waist. “Because you and I are supposed to trust each other, and considering how things have been going between us, I thought we did.”

Your heart raced at the fact that Suguru was still keeping his mouth tight lipped over what happened with Yuki, which did little to help your own dramatized theories on their relationship.

If he was being secretive about something as serious as this, then who knows what other tales he might have been spinning with that honeyed mouth of his.

The knot that’s wrung itself around your mind finally snapped.

“Easy for you to say, you don’t have an inventory of people I slept with to keep track of…”

Suguru winced, the involuntary grimace an unusual sign of hurt. Your apology shot to the tip of your tongue, and you were ready to jump right into his arms and plead for forgiveness. This brutish commentary was so unlike you, but you didn’t know how to keep a handle on your own insecurities this time around.

“Keep track, huh?” he answered softly, the faintest hint of distress coming through and making you nip at your bottom lip out of guilt. “Must be hard having a boyfriend who is so used up…”

“No...you're not. That's not what I mean, I’m…I’m just saying that it’s different,” you retracted, easing your delivery to try and explain yourself. “You just don’t have to worry-”

“Is there a reason for you to worry?” he rebuked, quirking his brow in genuine surprise.

You scoffed, “You told me about everyone else you’ve been involved with but with her you are suddenly keeping quiet-”

“Please, tell me you’re fucking joking right now-“

“You can’t-” you interjected, clearing the catch in your throat as your voice warbled uncomfortably. “You can’t just expect me to be okay with this, Suguru. I have to be able to trust you and that’s only going to work if you are honest with me. Keeping something like this from me doesn’t help…”

Suguru dropped his hand away from your waist, and folded them over his chest tightly. There was a twitch in his jaw, and the disappointment in his eyes spoke volumes. You both stood there in silence, studying the other in deep concentration.

“I thought you did trust me. You were practically naked in bed with me when you said it. So what is it then? Do you trust me or not?”

Your face grew increasingly hot recalling his birthday, the way you were soft, vulnerable and pliable sprawled out against his chest...

“I do…” you replied with very little confidence. “Sort of…”

You swallowed your regret to stare down at your feet shamefully, and allowing your pride to fight the battle for you. If you can waver his insecurity even a little then maybe you might find some equal footing with the discomfort.

“I can’t change my past. I can’t erase the people I’ve been involved with. Yes, we both had different opinions about how we viewed relationships, but we aren’t going last long as a couple if I’m the only one that has faith that this is going to work,” Suguru informed calmly, using his fingers to gesture between you both.

Hearing those words from your lover’s lips felt like surprise blow. You parted your mouth to exhale quietly, clenching your hands tightly by your side as you naively waited for him to attempt to turn things around.

“I’ve given you everything. I’m not going to force you to trust me,” Suguru adds on, his tone morphing into a cold, cruel note. “And if you fucking can’t, then I’m done.”

Your head shot up in surprise, the front of your brows upturning sorrowfully but Suguru had already turned on his heel to walk out of the room, slamming your bedroom door right behind him.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

The car ride to the beach house was terrible.

Neither you or Suguru said a single word to one another. He kept his focus on the road, while you kept replaying the words “I’m done” on repeat in your head.

It was disappointing to start off on such a sour note because Yuki’s beach house was the perfect getaway spot as Suguru described. The location was rural, and the building was quaint and cozy. The size is big enough to fit your entire group, but not to the point where it was gaudy. Suguru mentioned that the property belonged to Yuki’s mom, which she eventually inherited after she passed away.

Meeting Yuki took your breath away. From the moment you laid eyes on her you understood how a young Suguru would be infatuated. She was striking - tall, with long, golden hair that cascaded all the way down to her butt. Every part of her was perfect, from her toned tummy revealed by her short black cropped top, to her legs that seemed to go on forever which were covered in only a pair of loose denim shorts. She had a naturally cheeky grin, like there was something up her sleeve that no one could quite point out, and sharp brown eyes that were simply inviting.

She pulled Suguru in for a warm hug, and ruffled his hair like a sister would.

“Sug! Your hair’s getting long! I like it!” she chirped with a big smile, while Suguru held an effortlessly casual stance to play off that the two of you haven’t been ignoring each other this whole time. Yuki instantly turned to face you, “And you must be the girl that stole his heart! I’m so glad to meet you! This guy never shuts up about you…”

You felt small against her, and it wasn’t just due to her height. You could feel yourself shrinking into your own shame hearing her talk about your lover. Whatever doubts that sparked due to Mei’s burning statements were quickly turned to ash.

Yuki gave you a house tour and explained that Shoko was sharing a room with Mei and Utahime, while Satoru and Nanami bunked in another.

“If you’re comfortable you can stay in Suguru’s room. He kind of has his own bedroom from how often he’s stayed with me. If not, I’ve got a pull out sofa in my room,” Yuki informed, while you were trying your hardest to undo the tight knot in your belly.

Getting to know Yuki over the course of the two days only fed into your regret. You couldn’t help but watch her interactions with Suguru, only to conclude it was no different than how he behaved with Satoru and Shoko.

Even when he addressed her as “Kiki”, it came out with a level of comfort that felt a familial familiarity. If it wasn’t for Mei and her devious manipulation games, you would never have even have assumed that the pair were intimately involved with each other.

As your stubbornness started chipping away, you decided to at least try and make amends with your boyfriend.

On the first night, after getting ready for bed, you broke the long hours of silence by asking him where he was going after watching him get ready to leave the room that you both were supposed to be sharing.

“I’m staying with Satoru,” he curtly responded, and slammed the door behind him before you could get another word in.

Yesterday was painful to say the least. You attempted to sit down with him and Satoru for breakfast, but Suguru excused himself only a couple of minutes later. By mid-morning you texted to ask if he would like to join you and Shoko to walk around the village. You even brought up his favorite soba shop, but found yourself left on read.

His behavior was harsh and quite obvious. By lunchtime Shoko pulled you aside to ask if everything was okay.

“We’re fine,” you answered breathlessly, your worry sending tingles to the tips of your fingers and toes. “We got into a bit of an argument in the car, but we’ll talk things over”

Dinner last night was supposed to be a fun get together at one of the local omakase joints, but it turned into you and Suguru sitting on opposite sides of the table barely acknowledging each other.

You were trying to steal his glance, but he wouldn’t stop avoiding yours. Afterwards while all of you were standing outside, you found the courage to reach for Suguru’s hand to grab his attention.

“Hey,” you whispered low enough for only him to hear to avoid making it obvious to the others. Your heart fluttered when you noticed that Suguru didn’t let go of your hand, but instead pressed the pads of his fingers lightly against your palm to return the gesture.

Almost like he was saying hello.

“Do you maybe want to go for a walk?” you asked, eyes hopeful and desperate. “It’s nice outside tonight, don’t you think?”

You couldn’t gauge what he was thinking, but you paid close attention to his reactions. Like the way his eyes dipped to your fingers slightly interlaced with his own, and how his digits were merely tracing yours in the most featherlight touch.

Did he miss you too?

“I’m going out with Yuki tonight,” he announced, his tone sharp and daring.

Your heart winced.

You weren’t used to this side of Suguru at all.

You let go of his hand, and nodded your head to feign acceptance but your throat was tight and tears were glazing over your woeful irises.

“Oh, okay!” you answered with as much confidence as you could muster up. “I guess…I guess I’ll see what Shoko is up to. And-”

Your voice cracked when Suguru let go of your hand. The emptiness a cold touch against your palm.

“I-I hope you guys have fun catching up tonight-“

Suguru nodded his head, taking your breath away for only a second when he leans forward to leave a chaste kiss on your brow. Not giving you a chance to finish your statement.

The gesture shatters you, because you know that it wasn’t genuine.

He was simply putting on a show, keeping up appearances so that the others don't suspect that something is wrong.

You cry yourself to sleep all alone in bed, all the while holding onto the hope that he might just show up to remind you that everything is okay.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You’re still staring out the window, watching the droplets trickle down the glass. Lost in the peaceful moment, you barely hear Suguru enter the bedroom, which is why you jump in shock when you suddenly notice a large hand press firmly against the glass by your side.

“It’s pouring, huh?”

His voice, smooth like velvet and soft like storm clouds sent a tremor of desire in your belly. You steadied the cup in your hand, sensing your body trapped between the window and your boyfriend who was now standing prominently right behind you.

“Yeah,” you whisper quietly, your chest rising and falling with anticipation.

You watch him tap his index finger against the glass, your gaze falling to the bracelet on his wrist. It was the other gift that you gave him on his birthday, and he hasn’t taken it off since. The rain patters outside, the white noise your safety barrier against the awkward tension, but you can feel it brewing behind your spine as you steady your breathing.

“Where did you stay last night?” you ask with a mousy voice, hoping that your tone wasn’t coming across as accusatory but simply concerned for wanting to check in on Suguru’s whereabouts.

“Yuki’s room, we were up late talking…” he responds gently, a hint of amusement in his voice but not one that was cruel. “She told me I could sleep on her pull out only after admitting that I’m acting like a little bitch…”

Your mouth naturally ticked into a smile at his playful tone, and you sink your teeth into your lower lip with relief from the casual delivery.

He huffs out a small laugh, "in case you're wondering, I just so happen to agree with her."

“It’s not just you,” you acknowledge, finding the courage to slowly spin on your heel so you can face him. “I started all of this…”

“Yeah, but you’ve been trying to fix it and I’ve been difficult about it…”

Your body crumples when your eyes met his, the power of his gaze forcing you to press your back against the window to stop yourself from buckling at the knees. His yearning matches yours, and the tension in your shoulders relaxes slightly when you note that he might have actually have been missing you too.

The ease in his expression is a white flag of surrender.

You place your tea cup on the table by your side. “I shouldn’t have let Mei get to me,” you admit, “I was caught off guard, and I took my anger out on you…”

“I shouldn’t have put you in that position,” Suguru adds on, shaking his head in disbelief over his own decision. “I should have been upfront with you about Yuki from the star, I just-” He drops his hand away from the window to find yours, and takes both of them between his fingers. His thumb smooths over your knuckles, his grip firm and protective.

“I just didn’t want to give another reason not to trust me”

Your brows furrow with confusion, and Suguru sighs.

“My family were in a bind financially. Even though I got a full scholarship to univerisity, there still wasn’t enough money to put both Mimi and Nana through school. I've known Yuki since I was sixteen. She told me to spend the summers with her and hooked me up with well paying jobs ,” he explains solemnly, almost like he is ashamed by the situation entirely. “So, that’s what I did. Her mom never stayed during the summer break. And yeah, shit happened between us. We’d get high, fuck around, drink, party…but it was just…a release.  It didn’t mean anything else. I swear…”

“Mei said that you loved her,” you fill in, piecing together parts of your own personal indignation. “I think that’s what really got me. Especially when you didn’t tell me yourself. I couldn’t wrap my mind around the secrecy…”

Suguru scoffs, “Mei says that only because I went back summer after summer. I didn’t let anyone else know the real reason why. They had no fucking clue what was going on with me and my last summer with Yuki is when we decided to stop but I-I fucked it up…”

You could see the strain on Suguru’s face, and you squeezed his hand reassuringly to let him know that he could share whatever he needed to say.

“There was this girl that Yuki liked. I mean, really liked. She wouldn’t shut up about her. She was the reason why we stopped sleeping together. One night while we all went out, I got…carried away. I drank too much, I smoked too much, I wasn’t fucking thinking. I don’t even really remember what happened, but when I woke up the next morning…the girl was in my bed. When Yuki found us, she was…heartbroken. She didn’t speak to me for a year, and…I was devastated because her friendship means everything to me. She was the only person who knew how bad things were, and I returned the favor by…well, being myself, I guess…”

“Suguru, don’t say that…” you blurt out, your hands letting go of his as you eagerly clasp his jaw with equal protection. “I see you with your friends. You’re so loyal, and would give them everything if they asked. For somebody whose always so put together, what you did…is so out of character…”

He winced, his eyes narrowing with humiliation but it only taps into your empathy.

You bring his face closer, press your forehead to his own and notice him flutter his eyes close.

“You rarely talk about how hard it was with your family,” you mumble so close to his lips, keeping the conversation as private as possible even though it’s only the two of you in the room together. “I can’t even imagine the kind of pressure you must have been feeling. If you and Yuki are as close as you say are you, I’m sure she came around because she must have seen it too…”

His hands find your your bare waist. “She was the only one who could see it. Satoru, Shoko…it went over their heads…”

The quiet loops in right then, a rumble of thunder echoing in the distance. The hurt in Suguru's voice was loud and clear. The fact that he's always been there, but is so easily forgotten in the long run.

“I need to know,” Suguru confesses, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “I need to know what else it’s going to take to get you to trust me because the odds are stacked up against me, sweetheart. And if I can’t make it happen, then I don’t have a single fucking shot at making us happen…”

The sting of regret burns your cheeks once more, and you extend your arms out to circle around your boyfriend’s neck. You want to kick yourself for making him doubt himself, especially after he working so incredibly hard to earn your favor.

“I swore I would never throw your past in your face. I’m so sorry that I did. You’re not the same guy that the people in your life paint you out to be, and I shouldn’t have let them try to convince me otherwise,”

You seal your apology with a small kiss to the corner of his lip, goosebumps pebbling your skin from Suguru’s thumbs tracing tiny streaks up and down your belly. “For whatever reason we don’t seem to make sense to anyone around us…”

When Suguru finds your eyes, you lose yourself into a dark abyss, sinking back into the depths of his soul.

“Is that how you feel too?” he questions seriously, “that we don’t make sense?”

You shake your head instantly to disregard the claim.

“Being with you is the only thing that I seem to understand, and I think that’s why I’m so scared to let you in,” you admit, the past forty eight hours of desperation formulating the next statement on the tip of your tongue. “I’m falling in love with you, Suguru. And-And I can’t seem to stop it from happening…”

Your breathless at the proclamation, your heart hammering so hard in your chest like it’s ready to burst out and bury itself into Suguru’s instead.

You watch your lover pull back slightly, his brows raise with astonishment.

“In love…” he breathes, like he can't believe the words himself, “with me?”

You nod your head, your hands roaming back to the front of his chest where you can feel his own stammering heart against your palm.

"Yeah, with you."

Suguru withers into your touch, his hand cradling your jaw as he dips in to press his mouth over yours. He parts his tongue to deepen the kiss, the weight of his body pushing yours into the surface, where behind you lightning bolts across the sky and grey clouds envelop you both in a shadowy cocoon.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

You freely unravel, your joy sparking from the tips of your toe as to the top of your head knowing that your lover has chosen not to abandon you, knowing that you both are desperately seeking forgiveness.

You swear to yourself that it’ll never get this far again.

Suguru baptizes you with his kiss; it was a long reminder of your submission, of fully surrendering your feelings towards him. In between he moves your body, away from the glass and across the room, until you're pinned underneath him on the bed. He uses one hand to undo the wrap skirt around your waist, leaving you clad in your bikini to bathe under the light of his love instead.

His index finger loops around the string of your bikini top. He pulls away from the wet kiss, the tip of his nose lightly brushing your own, with the heat pooling in those dark irises enough to singe your skin.

“I’m not done with you,” he confirms, going back to the statement that ate away at you like a parasite. “Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever be…”

A lock of his hair brushes his brow, and you move it aside to kiss the space.

“Even if you were, I’m not willing to let you go that easily,” you counter because you need him to hear it. You need him to understand that you see what he’s put into this relationship and that you are more than willing to return the effort.

He smiles, and it’s devastatingly perfect it makes you want to scream at the heavens for allowing someone to be this beautiful.

“Still think I’m worth the trouble?”

Your fingers trace down the bridge of his nose, your heart gooey and soft in more ways than you can understand.

“I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you, Sugu.”

His head tilts with curiosity, eyes drooping in contemplation. He doesn’t say it but you can hear him asking “are you sure?”, but his doubt is enough for you to seal the truth with a kiss, and when Suguru returns it, you’re once again dissolving in his affection.

Your limbs tangle into one another, your bodies pressed so close that you can feel every hard muscle. The bed sheet rumples, is lifted away from the corners as it gathers messily. Suguru’s hand glides up your torso, over the swell of your breasts, and he hooks his fingers around your throat to tilt your neck to the side and allowing him the access to kiss the column.

You thoughtfully sigh, your eyes fluttering close at the sensation of him sucking on your delicate flesh. He leaves a trail in his wake, and you shiver when his hot breath fans your ear.

“Can I ask you something?” he questions in a hush tone, his voice dipping down an octave and sprinkled with desire.

You nod your head.

“Can I go down on you?”

Your body seizes, every single cell on fire. There’s a catch in your throat, and your thighs clench together nervously at the suggestion.

You tilt your head back to face him, your noses and lips bumping in the process. “I-I can do it for you-”

He interrupts you by shaking his head, his mouth carefully kissing your cupid’s bow. “You’ve gone down on me three times already…”

You can feel yourself soaking through your bottoms. A mixture of pleasure and shame heating your cheeks.

“But...what if-what if you don’t like it? I read somewhere that not all guys do...”

Suguru scoffs, baring his teeth as he gives you a full grin. He prods the tips of his nose onto yours, wiggling it teasingly from side to side.

“You’re so fucking cute,” he confesses before adding, “I promise you, I’ll like it”

Your heart is beating so fast you can’t think, but your body speaks another language as your thighs naturally spread a little wider to invite him in.

“Okay, yeah-” you consent, “yeah, you can…”

He smirks, his hands tracing to the strings of your bottoms. You lift your hips, watching him shimmy the fabric down your legs. He stuffs the material in his back pocket, his palms spreading your inner thighs apart.

You sit yourself up on your forearms to study your boyfriend with intrigue.

“God, you’re so fucking pretty…” he sighs, his attention focused on the triangle between your legs, and your belly flutters at the direct compliment.

He doesn’t move for a second, his hands adding the slightest bit of pressure on the meat of your thighs. He licks his lips and breathes out once more, taking just a second to compose himself.

“It’ll only feel good, no pain,” he informs, “but if it’s too much for you, just tell me and I’ll stop, okay?”

Your hips relax further into the mattress, his assurance easing some of your apprehension. Your boyfriend knows how sensitive you are at this point, but you nod your in head in acknowledgement while gratefully appreciating that he regards you with such consideration.

He kisses up the apex of your thigh, carefully avoiding your sex to find a path to you hips. His tongue is sof and warm, tasting every part of your skin as it travels across your lower belly and further down your pubis. You gasp at the sensation of his breath so close to your cunt, your calf twitching when he finally places a gentle kiss on your lips.

And another kiss.

And another kiss.

And a fourth until your toes curl and he finally flattens his tongue along the slit.

“Oh,” you coo, the sensation so delicate and delicious. Suguru drags his love between your folds, up and down, and side to decide, his mouth circling around each lip as he sucks on them in between returning to glide his tongue around.

Your legs clasp around his neck, your heels resting comfortably on his back. The sound of Suguru sucking and licking up your pussy reverberates along with the storm outside. He reaches one arm to find your hand, and you intertwine your fingers to hold him tightly. His other hand slithers up your torso, and slips underneath your bikini top. He pushes the fabric above your breast, his thumb and index finger finding your tender nipple which he massages steadily as his uses his mouth to pleasure you.

The sensation builds, filters throughout your body in waves that roll over and over again. You squeak when he sucks on your clit, your heels pressing into his back but the weight of his body holds you in place to keep you from wandering away.

Your brows furrow, little tremors shaking your collar bones and your belly. “Suguru,” you whine sweetly, a moan following after when he pinches your nipple and nibbles on your clit. He lets go of your hand, his touch traveling down to your legs. He spreads your pussy, giving himself more access to bury his soft tongue deeper, further, to taste more of your nectar as it dribbles down his chest like he’s biting into fruit.

He groans into your cunt.

He grazes his tongue over your weeping hole, and your body thrashes with anguish and rapture. Your eyes spark in white, glittering like the lightning as it bursts and recedes into the ceiling above you. The band in your core is a tight spring that finally unfurls quickly and quite suddenly, your orgasm unfolding throughout your stuttering body.

“Oh, god…” you cry out, your back arching as Suguru keeps his mouth over your cunt, his hand holding you down by your lower body.

You gasp, panting heavily trying to cope with the aftermath. You think that Suguru might stop, but instead you feel him paint kisses all over your sex, rolling your nipple between his finger and moving to suck on your throbbing clit.

“Sugu?” you call out, your spine shuddering.

“Hmm?” he answers, his tongue massaging across the bud.

“You’re still…” you whimper, “you’re still going?”

He releases you with a pop, blowing air over the swollen bud before smiling into another kiss.

“You have no idea how long I can keep going”

Suguru only manages to keep his word by delivering another orgasm with his mouth buried against your cunt. You had tears in your eyes when you came, panting out “no more” with desperation because you couldn’t handle the detachment you were feeling in your own skin.

It feels so fucking good, but all too much at the same time.

Suguru doesn’t push. He won’t test his boundaries right now. Not when you’re just a vulnerable kitten in his eyes. No, the stamina will require time and patience, and for you to get used to him in the bedroom as well.

His disappointments sits between his brows when he pulls away, his hand smoothing over the curve of your pelvis as he kisses your hip and lower belly. He crawls over you like a panther, his shoulder blades rising with each calculative moment. You can smell yourself against his lips, savor your own arousal when he dips in for a kiss.

“Taste like heaven, baby girl,” he mumbles, his balmy words running over your skin like hot oil. “I could eat you out all night…”

He traces the column of your neck with his lips, and grins into your skin. You’re too shy to say anything, and he knows it. He presses his mouth against your neck, pecking over the marks that he’s imprinted.

Your hands fumble to reach for his jeans, your body desperate to do something for him too but Suguru grabs your wrists and pins them to your side before standing upright and undoing his jeans himself.

“Relax,” he insists.

Your eyes fall to his large hands undoing the button, and then unzipping the front of his pants. His grey boxers have a noticeable wet spot, and your pupils dilate when he pulls his dick out for you to see.

You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth, waiting to see what he’ll do next. He pumps his cock a few times, sighing heavily as his thumb runs over the slit. To your surprise he shifts his position, and adjusts himself until he’s perfectly aligned with you.

He taps the fat, mushroom head over your clit. “You just open up for me, don’t you?” he whispers deviously, “Let’s practice…”

He slides his dick back and forth over your slit, supports his movements by holding both your knees as he grinds his length against your cunt.

“See how far I’ll stretch you out?” he mumbles, eyes hazy with hunger. “See how deep I’ll go?”

He slides his hands up and down your thighs, rocking back and forth and using you for friction. Soft grunts and moans escape him, and in between he halts for only a second when your quivering hand finds his length. His hips stutter when you start to lightly jack him off, your thumb teasing over the head.

Your eyes fall close, imagine the burn of him spreading you apart, of him making love to your body as you mold into his frame. To feel him in all his glory, for your bodies to become.

The image is raw, vulnerable, and so, so perfect.

There is nobody else you would rather give yourself too.

Suguru is the one.

“I can’t wait,” you beg dreamily, “Need you inside me, I can’t wait-”

His grip on you tightens out of surprise upon hearing your words, and he suddenly thrusts harshly as he curses out a broken “fuck”. Ribbons of white spurt out of him, painting your belly and tainting parts of your chest.

The both of you freeze as you look down, caught off guard by what just happened.

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

Suguru cleaned you up using a wet towel to wipe his cum off your belly and chest. You discarded your bikini top afterwards while he removed his jeans, with the two of you then choosing to snuggle up against one another under the sheet.

“That’s never happened to me before,” Suguru confesses, finally breaking the silence. There was a slight blush tinting his cheek bones, and you giggle as you cradle his face in your palm and trace the shade of red.

“You’re usually so in control,” you playfully remark, and Suguru simply rolls his eyes.

“Not with you, I’m not,” he admits, his arm clenching around your waist as he closes the gap of space to tuck you into his chest.

You breathe in his scent, nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his tee.

"I'm glad we're okay now."

"I am too"

You curl your fingers around his shirt. “On your birthday, and just now…we could’ve…just gone all the way. You could’ve just-”

“Not here,” Suguru states seriously, the intensity in his voice prompting you to tilt your chin up and meet his stare. He plays with your ear, traces the shell thoughtfully before gently tugging on your lobe.

The butterflies flutter once again, your irises tinting in pink. You lean forward to kiss the sharp angle of his jaw.

“What was it like for you? Your first time?”

Suguru sighs, and purses his lips as he contemplates the memory. “Yuki was good to me, and it was nice,” he admits, but you’re entranced with the way he holds your gaze. “I sure as hell wasn’t as nervous as I am now…”

“Is that why you keep holding back?” you question innocently, apropping yourself on your elbow to rest your head on your hand. The bed sheet falling and exposing your chest.

Suguru’s eyes fall, his touch tracing the slope to outline the curve of your breast. “Do you want your first time to happen after a petty argument?”

You pout your lips with amusement. “Does it matter?”

“You’re not the only one who might be in love, sweetheart,” he responds, his words greeting the shining sun peeking through the clouds. “Of course it matters.”

__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ ┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ┊ ┊⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊ ⋆˚ ✧. ┊ ⋆ ★

tags: @sellenite @kiwibao @allofffmypeaches @sugurussbby @kunigamisbaby @pandoraium @brownskinnedgirll

my works are available on tumblr and ao3 - any fics reposted on other platforms or other Tumblr blogs have been plagiarized. do not share my works on social media (tiktok etc.) © peachsayshi 

[sapphire-writes]

Running On Sunshine (hospital AU)

Do No Harm part 3 || masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: doctor!Aemond Targaryen x doctor!Reader

summary: You haven't spoken to Aemond. Tensions rise between the two of you and come to a head at the arrival of a disruptive patient.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: NSFW mdni medical terminology, use of needles, discussion around addiction (specifically alcohol, rehab, recovery), fighting, blood, punching, explicit sex (p in v) fingering, oral (fem receiving), creampie, praise, dirty talk, spanking, language

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

note: here it is! long-awaited, thank you for being so patient as my brain jumps around 😂 hope you enjoy it!!

disclaimer: yall, I am not a doctor, I am simply a Grey's Anatomy stan. If something is off or incorrect please just suspend your disbelief! I am trying my best to make it as accurate as possible but its just for fun!!

It’s been a few days since your ultimatum with Aemond. 

No texts. 

No calls. 

You pass each other in the halls and avoid eye contact, brushing past him close enough that if you extended your little finger you’d be sure to brush against the back of his hand.

You weren’t going to chase him. 

You’d told him what you wanted. Told him you’d wanted him. And he had stayed silent. If that was the end of you and him, so be it.

But that didn’t mean it wasn’t killing you inside. Watching him day in and day out walking through the halls of Citadel General in those stupid blue scrubs that he somehow wore like he was strutting down a runway not the hallway of a hospital. 

It didn’t help that observations often included surgeries he was a part of. Aemond was a model resident, often asked to assist the attendants. And he was hard to miss, always wearing his signature scrub cap with little dragons peppered all over it, mid-flight. You’d catch him glancing up at the viewing gallery, peering up over his mask every now and then. You never caught his eye, he was much too quick for that. 

“Switch with me,” you’d begged that afternoon after Baratheon had informed you of the plan to observe Dr. Cole’s surgery. There was no way Aemond wouldn't be there, Dr. Cole had chosen him as an obvious favorite. 

You’d been catching up on notes with Cory for the past ten minutes, the pair of you both trying to shove food in your mouths before your pagers inevitably went off. 

Labs. Observation. Notes. Scut work.

The never-ending revolving schedule of your internship. 

Cory reaches into her bag of salt and vinegar chips, clicking her mouse furiously, her brows pinched together in concentration. 

“I can’t,” she says through a mouthful, “Besides, you’ve already done this lab. If I don’t get these hours by the end of the week I’m about to take Jace’s place as Baratheon’s least favorite.”

You groan in frustration, letting your head rest against the keyboard of your computer. Nettles pops her head into the room, frowning at you both, “What’s wrong with her?”

Cory shrugs and you turn your head to face Nettles. 

Beep beep!

Cory groans, checking her pager, “Shit, I gotta go,” she says, crushing her chip bag and logging out of the computer before heading out of the room, “Sorry again, Y/N!”

You mumble something along the lines of don’t worry about it just as she disappears from sight. Nettles raises her eyebrows.

“McDreamy?” she asks, and you continue to pout, “Damn. Dick is so good we should change his name to McDick.”

“You suck,” you tell her, but you can’t stop your smile, “Definitely not your best work.”

“McOrgasm? I’m still thinking of one that truly encompasses the distress he’s causing you. Dr. Cum?” she makes a face, “Okay ew. Definitely not Dr. Cum.”

You groan, putting your face in your hands, “What am I going to do?”

Nettles walks towards you, slapping the back of your head. You lift your head, mouth open in shock, palming the place she slapped.

“Hey! I was recently concussed!”

“And apparently it scrambled your brains more than we thought!” she snaps, “See what you’re not going to do is spend your days moping over Dr. Sexy. I don’t care how good his dick was. You are a doctor. You are an insanely smart woman and you are in your internship.”

Nettles lowers herself to your height, taking your hands in hers. 

“He is very dreamy,” she says, her brown eyes empathetic, “But this is your time to shine. Not his. He’s not this important.”

It hurts---gods does it hurt---but she’s right. And you know it. You’ve been through situations like this before. You’ve gotten through things like this, and worse. Smiling at Nettles you squeeze her hands.

“Thank you.”

“Mhmm,” she says, smiling, “Always here for a reality check. You’re the sun, babe.”

You smile back at her, “I’m the sun.”

“Damn right,” she says, chuckling, “How’s Cece doing?”

“She was discharged this morning,” you tell her, beaming with pride, “Just finished her last round of antibiotics and her labs are clear. I’m working on her note now.”

Nettles plops down in Cory’s seat, reaching into the chip bag she left behind. Her hand comes out empty and she frowns. 

Jace opens the door, looking rather sweaty and discombobulated. He’s been running around the most, trying to get on Barartheon’s good side. 

“Hey,” he says, out of breath, “Can you guys help me in the pit?”

“No can do,” Nettles says, “We’ve got observation soon.”

You nod agreeing, but become curious noticing Jace’s panicked expression.

“Why what’s wrong?” you ask.

“Just…five minutes,” Jace says, “Please, I need someone. And I can’t find Sara and Cory--I just need someone, please.”

You turn to Nettles.

“The pit?” she asks, raising an eyebrow at you, “Really?”

“Tell Baratheon I’ll be there as soon as I can,” you tell her, “Besides, maybe it’s a good case.”

“Girl,” Nettles says, sighing and shaking her head.

“I just really need your help,” Jace says, leading you through the emergency room, weaving between nurses and patients, “It’s just that…I mean I didn’t know the other day but now…”

“Didn’t know what?” you ask as he stops outside a curtain.

“-- he’s back again and family members--,” Jace says, brown eyes wide, “We’re not supposed to work on family members.”

Your eyebrows concave together in confusion when suddenly the curtain pulls back. A man is lying in the hospital bed, a halo of platinum hair cascading onto the pillow he lays on. His eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot, a lazy grin appearing on his face as he gives you a once-over.

“Nephew,” he sing-songs, giggling, “You brought me a present!”

Jace sighs, pulling the curtain from his grasp. Wait a minute. Nephew? Your eyes scan the giggling man as Jace snaps something at him. The silvery hair, the violet eyes. Seven hells.

How many Targaryens are there?

“Excuse me?”

“He’s kidding,” Jace says, forcing a smile and turning to his uncle, “You’re kidding.”

His uncle shakes his head, lower lip jutting out in a pout, “I’ve never told a joke in my life. She’s pretty Jacey, well done.”

Your cheeks burn at the compliment, at the way his eyes cascade down your body. You’ve never felt more exposed in simple scrubs. 

“Stop calling me that,” Jace snaps, cheeks reddening.

“I didn’t know you had it in you, Jacey boy,” he croons, “Thought Baela had taken your balls when she dumped your ass--”

“Funnier every time I see you, Aegon,” Jace interrupts, closing the curtain once more. 

Aegon’s mouth drops open in surprise before he’s hidden from sight. You raise an eyebrow at Jace, folding your arms across your chest. 

“He’s harmless,” Jace assures you, “Please, please just help get him out of here as soon as possible.”

“Well, that’s sort of difficult when we don’t know what’s wrong--”

“I know what’s wrong.”

You frown, raising an eyebrow at him, “You know?”

“Yeah, he’s fucking drunk. He’s always drunk. Just give him a banana bag, let him sober up, and get him out of here,” Jace instructs.

“How do you know he’s drunk?”

“Considering the fact he hasn’t been sober since I was eight years old, it’s not hard to guess,” Jace tells you, “He’s been to more rehab programs than I can count. Trust me on this.”

“I’m still going to have to do some labs,” you tell him, not willing to go against protocol.

“That’s fine, do what you have to do just…keep him out of the way,” Jace pleads, eyes widening as though he’d just remembered something very important, “And don’t let Aemond know he’s here.”

Your gut tightens at the mention of Aemond.

“Why not?”

“Just don’t. It’s better for everyone if no one knows Aegon is here,” Jace finishes, “Thank you, I owe you big time.”

“Yeah you do,” you confirm, and then Jace hurries out of sight, eager to escape the pit.

The curtain opens once more and you turn, meeting the curious gaze of Aegon Targaryen. You try to stop the scowl that threatens to overtake your face as he grins widely, a mischievous look in his eyes. 

“Ow!”

“Will you hold still!”

“You’re killing me!”

“Stop being so dramatic!”

“It hurts!”

“It won’t hurt if you stay still, Aegon!”

Aegon throws his opposite arm over his eyes as you attempt to find a vein for the third time. He’s too squirmy, too anxious that as soon as the needle pierces his ivory skin he’s flinching away and howling. 

“I’ve seen children do better than you,” you grumble, and he gasps in feigned shock.

“They let you torture children?”

“Hush!” you insist, and to your relief, he’s able to stay still as you start the IV, “There you go. See? That wasn’t so hard.”

Aegon peaks over his arm, glancing down at the tubes as you assemble them properly, making sure the drip is even. He frowns as you release the tourniquet. 

“I bruise like a peach,” he mumbles.

“Sounds like you need more iron in your diet,” you tell him, walking to the other side of his bed. You need to take his blood pressure and begin wrapping the band around his arm. 

“Can I have something for the pain?” he asks.

“No, you may not.”

“Not even Tylenol?”

“No.”

“Hells,” he mumbles, “You should know, I enjoy it when women are mean to me, it turns it on.”

“Of course it does.”

“Mhmm. I eat that shit up.”

You’ve been trying not to look at his face for too long. If you look at Aegon, you’ll start thinking about Aemond. 

You’ve been trying very hard not to think about Aemond.

They don’t really look alike, despite the matching hair and eye color. Though he’s sitting down you can tell Aegon has none of Aemond’s height. He’s soft whereas Aemond is sharp. Their mouths may be the most similar thing about them, both awarded beautifully pouty lips made to be kissed. 

“What’s on your mind, doc?” Aegon says, eyes narrowing.

“Nothing.”

“You’re lying, I’m very perceptive,” Aegon insists, “Come on tell me. What is it? Doctor drama? Boyfriend drama?” Your face must give something away when he asks, because his eyes light up, “Boyfriend drama.”

It’s no use, you can feel your face heating up, “I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Fuck off.”

Your head snaps up at him, and you remove the blood pressure sleeve. Discarding it in favor of your stethoscope you place the end against his chest.

“Breathe in.”

“D’you have a girlfriend then?” he relentlessly continues.

“No.”

“A fuck buddy?”

“Hells,” you mumble in frustration, trying to listen to his heartbeat. 

“Please tell me it isn’t my nephew,” Aegon says, making a face.

“What?” you answer, far too quickly, “No! Seven hells, Jace and I are friends! And I do not sleep with colleagues.”

“Everyone sleeps with colleagues,” Aegon argues, “How else do you meet people?”

“That working well for you?”

“Oh I don’t work,” he answers, “That’s boring.”

You choke back a laugh. The man truly is ridiculous.

“Alright then. Well, you’re all set once you’re done with your fluids we’ll check your vitals again and send you on your way,” you tell him, making a note in his chart, “I can have the nurses reach out to some detox programs if you’re interested.”

“I’m not.”

“Look, I understand a bit of your history from what Jace shared. But you should know, recovery isn’t linear, and relapse is completely normal-”

“I haven’t relapsed.”

You blink. 

“Your BAC was 1.06,” you inform him, “That’s more than a little buzzed.”

“I haven’t had a drink since Nyra birthed her last gremlin,” he insists, not elaborating on who Nyra was, “I’m just like this.”

Your eyebrows knit together. He could be lying, you know that. Addiction is one hell of a disease. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” he groans.

“Like what?”

“Like you don’t believe me.”

You’re silent for a moment, just staring into his violet eyes. 

“Your blood--”

“Fuck the labs,” he groans, “They always come back like that. I haven’t taken anything. I haven’t drank anything. Believe me, I’d be much more obvious.”

“How so?”

“Well for starters, a pretty little thing like you wouldn’t be so far away,” he comments, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, “I don’t know why this happens. I think my body got so used to being fucked up, it just does it on its own now.”

“You’re being serious,” you comment, and he nods.

It goes against everything you’ve learned in med school, and in residency thus far. Your pager beeps and you glance at it. It’s Nettles. You’re supposed to be joining her soon. 

When you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras. 

You chew your bottom lip. Aegon raises a brow, already looking better with the intake of fluids. 

Fuck it. 

You quickly page Nettles, and let her know you’re needed longer in the pit. Hopefully, Baratheon doesn’t kill you for this. 

We’re going with the zebras. 

“Okay so I’m going to send the sample to the lab and see what comes back,” you inform Aegon, “And if you’re being honest with me, we should have some answers for you.”

Aegon swings his legs over the side of the bed. 

“Why would I lie?”

You want to roll your eyes, but you’re sure if you do in his presence once more they’ll fall out of your skull. He gives you a cheeky grin as he notices your exasperation. 

“People lie all the time,” you tell him.

“To you?” Aegon asks, snatching your hand is his, “Never, princess.”

You hear Nettles suddenly, her voice flowing through the ER and your stomach turns. Surely, it's Dr. Baratheon coming to reprimand you for missing observation to spend time in the pit ‘trolling for surgeries.’ The curtain opens then, and to your horror, it’s Aemond who has discovered you rather than Dr. Baratheon. 

His eyes fall to your face first before he turns to Aegon. His gaze drops to your interlocked hands. Something washes over him, his expression cold and calculating. 

“Out,” he says, voice quiet as death. 

Aegon chuckles, but you can hear the nervousness he’s trying to hide. You can see it in the way he wets his lips, the way he pulls his hand from yours.

“Bro…”

“Out, now,” Aemond repeats, “Don’t make me drag you out in front of all these people.”

“Careful now,” Aegon says, standing, “you know how mummy feels about you getting your hands dirty--”

Aemond steps forward, hands fisting Aegon’s shirt and dragging him forward. Your eyes widen in shock and Nettles yelps as Aemond pushes past her, dragging Aegon with him. 

The display has gathered the attention of several nurses and patients as Aemond continues to drag him through the ambulance entrance and out the automatic doors. You and Nettles remain closely on their heels as they exit the hospital.

Aemond releases his hold, sending Aegon stumbling into the road. 

“Seven hells!” Nettles says, a shocked expression on her face. 

Aegon laughs maniacally, bending over with his hands on his knees. He shakes his head several times, like a dog before looking up.

“Go home,” Aemond says, flexing his hand.

“Where’s that?”

“Wherever you’ve been staying I suppose,” Aemond quips.

Aegon is panting, staring at his brother.

“I’d like to see Helaena.”

“That’s not happening.”

“Helaena!” he yells at the sky, “She’s my sister, I know she wants to see me.”

“You’re not shaking her down for any more fucking money,” Aemond says, his voice louder this time, making you flinch, “Go home, Aegon.”

Aegon wets his lips, running a hand through his hair. His eyes meet yours. 

“You’ll call me? With the results?” he asks, and Aemond snorts.

“Another STI screening?” Aemond snarks. 

Aegon’s tongue pokes his cheek, an angry smile on his face. 

“Gotta make sure I’m all clear before saddling up with a fit bird,” he taunts, eyes falling on you as he says it, grabbing his crotch for emphasis. 

Aemond lurches forward his hand connecting with Aegon’s cheek. Nettles and you both scream as Aemond jumps back, Aegon spitting a mix of blood and saliva on the ground. He laughs again, smiling with bloody teeth. 

“Get him cleaned up and get him out of here,” Aemond instructs Nettles, before heading back inside and leaving the three of you standing there.

Aegon’s lip is split, along with a cut on his cheekbone. He spits again, wiping his face and nodding at you.

“No boyfriend eh?” he says, grinning. Your face flushes. 

“I wasn’t lying.”

His grin widens.

“One of us is,” he says, referencing your earlier conversation, “Guess we’ll find out who.”

Nettles approaches him, and he winces. She turns to you.

“You should go see if he’s okay,” she says, nodding to the doors. 

You run back inside leaving Nettles and Aegon, your eyes searching for Aemond. Hurrying to the nurses' station, they inform you which direction he took off in. A nervous sweat breaks out on the back of your neck as you hurry down the hallway. You spot him then, taller than everyone else, watching as he ducks into an on-call room. 

Quickening your pace you follow him inside. It’s quiet as you close the door, besides the sound of a noise machine echoing white noise in the dimly lit space. There are two beds in this room; truly the on-call rooms are in such sorry states. Small twin mattresses with paper-thin sheets and pillows that may as well be pieces of foam. 

Aemond sits on the bed to the left, his head resting in his hands. You close the blinds on the door, flipping the sign that says “Both Beds Occupied” along with flicking the lock. You don’t think he’ll want to be disturbed.

“Aemond,” you say softly. He doesn’t move. The knuckles of his right hand are bloody. 

Taking a step closer, you watch his shoulders rise and fall with the deep breaths he’s taking. Anxiety churns in your stomach, and you take a step back, placing your hand on the handle of the door.

“I’ll just leave you--”

“Don’t,” Aemond speaks quietly for the first time, raising his head. His gaze softens, his eyes somewhat glassy. “Please don’t go.”

Your heart starts to race, but you nod, stepping back toward him. Sitting beside him the bed creaks; you cross your ankles and place your hands on the edge of the bed. Aemond rests his chin on his hands, arms propped on his knees. The pair of you sit in silence for several moments. It begins to rain outside, fat droplets of water beating against the window. 

“You should get that looked at,” you finally say, nodding at his hand. 

Aemond merely hums in response, flexing his fingers. 

“Seriously, you’re a surgeon,” you continue, “What are you thinking, throwing punches like that?”

Aemond glances at his hand, curling and uncurling his fingers, “He brings out the worst in me.”

“Your brother.”

“Mhmm,” he answers, shaking his hand. It’s not as bad as it looks, thankfully. He could have done some serious damage.

“I’m sorry. Jace told me…well I’m just sorry.”

“It’s alright. Someone has to treat him. I’m sorry if he was inappropriate to you.”

“It’s alright,” you assure him, “We don’t get to choose how patients behave.”

“Aegon can be a lot. Take it from someone who knows him rather well.”

“Noted.”

You sit in silence some more. The sky outside has begun to turn dark as clouds roll in, the sound of thunder audible in the distance. A storm is looming.

“I’ve missed you,” he says so softly you almost don’t catch it.

Your hands dig into the side of the bed, your heart pounding against your ribs making your chest feel painfully tight.

“Don’t-”

“Y/N..”

“Please Aemond,” you cut him off, eyes watery, “Please. Don’t say that if you don’t mean it.”

“I do mean it,” he insists, turning his head toward you, “It’s just…Y/N that day I didn’t give you an answer. And you deserve one. I like you. I like you so much. You’re an incredibly intelligent person, funny, adorable, and…” he trails off, shaking his head slightly as he chuckles to himself. 

“And what?”

“And that scares the shit out of me. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I wasn’t expecting you. When I moved here I just planned on keeping my head down and then….then there was you,” he looked away, his eyes lit up in wonder, “I saw you in that bar, and it was like the sun came out.” 

Your lips part, your stomach flutters pleasantly at his words, and goosebumps erupt on your skin. He glances at you shyly, the tips of his ears tinged pink.

“And then I saw you here and you’re an intern, at the beginning of your residency I just….I mess things up. I don’t want to mess things up for you. Or with you.”

You reach for his hand, lacing your fingers through his, “Okay.”

“But…I miss you. I miss talking to you, kissing you,” Aemond continues, the top of his cheeks turning pink, matching his ears, “You asked me if I’m in or out. I didn’t answer, and I should have. I’m all in.”

“Aemond…”

“If you’ll have me,” he adds, “If you…if you want to give this a try.”

You smile at him softly.

“It’s all I wanted from the start.”

Aemond smiles, leaning toward you and connecting his lips to yours. You sigh against his mouth, as his hand snakes around the back of your neck, keeping you from going anywhere. His tongue runs along the seam of your lips, and you part them eagerly accepting the warm muscle into your mouth. 

Your hands bury themselves in his scrubs as he turns his head, deepening the kiss. His opposite hand reaches for your waist, sliding down to rest on the meat of your thigh. He rubs soothing circles there for a moment, before gripping you hard and pulling you on top of him. 

You straddle his waist as he scoots backward, pressing his back flat against the wall. He breaks the kiss for only a moment, tugging your blue scrub top over your head, before desperately chasing your lips once more. Shivering in the cool air, your nipples harden in your bra. You almost wish you’d worn something a little sexier, the plain black bra making you feel underdressed. 

Aemond eyes your tits like a madman as his skilled hands eagerly unclasp your bra, pulling it from your torso. 

“Should we be doing this--” you gasp, grinding against the hardness between his thighs. 

“Yes, yes we should,” he says, kissing you once more before pausing, his eyebrows knitting together, “Unless you don’t want..”

“No! I mean--fuck, yes, yes we should and I want to,” you whimper as his teeth graze against your neck, “But I mean, here…” Aemond continues his attention to your neck, his perfect mouth nipping and sucking the sensitive skin.

“No one’s coming,” he murmurs, “You locked the door, yes?”

You nod, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmurs, groaning as you clench your fists, tugging at his hair.

He catches your lips once more and you arch your back, pressing yourself against him trying to get as close as humanly possible. Moaning against his mouth he chuckles softly, the sound reverberating against you. 

“Shh,” he croons, brushing some hair from your face, “You have to be quiet.” He nips your lower lip as he says it, smoothing his tongue along where he bit, “Something you have trouble with, I recall.”

Your cheeks warm at the memory of your first night together, the puddle he’d turned you into with such little effort. Lashes fluttering, you look up at him as he admires you.

“You’ll have to remind me,” you tease, earning a growl from him as he flips you onto your back beginning to pull your scrub pants from your body.

Eager to assist, you kick wildly trying to get the soft material off. Aemond catches your right calf in his large hand, trying to avoid being kicked.

“Careful,” he chuckles, pressing a hot kiss to your calf, helping you out of your scrubs, shoes, and underwear. 

“Sorry,” you manage to say through your giggles as he tosses the ball of clothes toward the opposite bed, “We’re a bit uneven now, wouldn’t you agree?”

Grinning, Aemond pulls his scrub top from his body as thunder crashes outside. The sky has darkened considerably and lightning flashes, illuminating the room. Aemond’s hands travel up your calves, hooking against your knees as he cocks an eyebrow at you. 

“Better?”

Your eyes trace down his exposed front following the planes of his chest, the chiseled outline of his abdominal muscles. You swallow, feeling yourself clench as your gaze rests on the outline of his hard bulge.

Nodding, you take your lower lip between your teeth, dragging your gaze back to his face. Aemond’s breathing is heavy as he sits on his haunches, eyes raking down your naked body.

“Fuck you’re beautiful,” he breathes appreciatively, “Gods…” He lets one hand move up your body, fingers dancing against the skin of your waist, up the side of your ribs to your breast. He explores higher and higher until with a desperate whine you reach up pulling him toward you.

You could kiss him forever.

You want to kiss him forever. 

The hand that rests on your leg curls inward, stroking the soft flesh of your inner thigh before inching higher. Your breathing has started to turn to pants as Aemond lets one of his long fingers part through your silky folds, spreading your arousal. 

“Seven hells,” he groans, swirling his finger against your clit, “All this for me?”

“Mhmm,” you tell him, biting your lip and trembling against him already.

Aemond only smirks, that familiar look of confidence in his eye, “Use your words, baby.”

“Yes,” you tell him, as the tip of his finger sinks inside of you, “Fuck-- just for you.”

“That’s my good girl,” he praises, pushing further inside of you, stretching you out on his forefinger. A second finger soon joins and he scissors the digits against your fluttering walls.

You’re trying to be quiet---really you are trying--- but it feels too good. He’s too precise with his movements, too insistent on bullying that sensitive rough patch that causes your eyes to roll back in your head. “Aemond…I can’t--”

“Shhh baby, I know, it feels too good to be quiet, huh?” he says, voice full of mock sympathy, “Don’t worry, I’ll make you cum really quick, let me take care of you, yeah?”

You nod furiously, a choked moan escaping you as Aemond presses a tender kiss to your forehead. Moving away from you, he keeps up his relentless pace with his fingers as he slides onto his stomach on the bed. Your eyes widen as Aemond glances up at you from between your legs, a cheeky smile on his handsome face. 

“Aem----oh fuck!” your concern is short-lived as Aemond presses his mouth against you.

His tongue traces lazy circles over your clit, groaning, “Hells, I missed this sweet little pussy,” he mumbles, taking the sensitive button between his lips and suctioning around it. 

Throwing your head back against the pillows, your back arches, and your mouth opens in a silent scream. The rain continues to pour outside, the drumming against the window matching that of your racing heart. 

“Oh yeah, I know that’s so good, huh?” Aemond mumbles between licks of your clit, his free hand snaking upwards to grope at your breasts, “Fuck you look so pretty…all whiny and desperate.”

He curls his fingers as he says it, massaging the tender spot inside of you causing your pussy to spasm against his fingers. His tongue traces nonsensical patterns around your clit, his lips sucking and releasing causing lewd wet noises to echo through the room.

“Next time,” he murmurs a quiet promise, “Next time, when I’ve got lots of time…we’ll see how long I can keep you like this.” His fingers pinch your right nipple, tweaking it harshly.

Your belly tenses, muscles constricting against his fingers as he returns his sweet torture on your clit, and you finish with a muffled sob as you turn your head, pressing your mouth against your shoulder. Aemond murmurs soft praises, talking you through your orgasm as your legs shake around him. 

“Fuck, fuckfuckfuck,” you hiss through your teeth as he slowly pulls his fingers from your fluttering pussy, bringing them to his mouth. 

You watch, wide-eyed as he sucks the lengthy digits, moaning at the taste of you.

“Turn around baby,” he says, sitting up, “Put your face in the pillow.”

Shakily, you turn on your hands and knees, before letting yourself fall to your forearms. Aemond slides his hand down your back, admiring the curve of your spine, spreading your cheeks wide. 

“Goddamn,” he murmurs, slapping your cheeks, causing you to yelp, “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“You’re an ass man?” you tease, looking back over your shoulder.

“I’m a ‘you’ man,” he argues, grabbing his length and sliding it against your folds, “Now be a good girl, and let me take care of you.” The fat head of his cock pokes at your entrance.

“Please,” you breathe as he starts to slide in. Aemond pauses, groaning slightly.

“Fuck baby, you can’t say that all sweet right now,” he growls, “We don’t have time.”

“Please, put it in,” you whimper, cheek pressed against the pillow, drool forming a wet patch under your cheek.

Aemond’s hand cracks down on your ass once more, “Be a good girl you little brat.”

You whimper, your begging ceasing as he slides fully inside your tight, wet heat. The stretch of his fingers was nothing compared to his thick cock. Your walls tense around him, pulsating around his thick length as he bottoms out. Rocking backward, he slides nearly all the way out before thrusting back in. 

Electricity bursts through your veins, pleasure crackling through your limbs like the lightning outside of the window. The force of his thrusts sends your face deep into the pillow, muffling the sharp cries of pleasure you emit. You couldn’t stop if you wanted to, it feels too fucking good, the head of his cock rubbing ceaselessly against your g-spot as he ruts against you; he’s grunting softly, muttering praises all the while, his fingers digging into your hips. 

“Fuck,” he gasps as your knees slide down, legs shaking so bad you’re unable to keep them upright, “It’s okay baby, just relax I got you.”

Your legs bend against the mattress, thighs splayed, hip flexors burning with the deep stretch it awards you. Aemond never relents, just continues to slap his hips against the softness of your ass, his cock sliding effortlessly in and out, in and out.

“Aemond,” you moan, “Fuck it feels--”

“Yeah?” he groans, “How’s it feel baby?”

“S-s’good, Aem, fuck, it’s so good,” you whimper, hands fisting the sheets, the bed shaking with every harsh thrust. 

The bed grinds against your sensitive nipples and clit sending sparks of pleasure burning through you.

“Gonna make this pussy feel so good,” he says, leaning some of his weight on top of you, his face next to yours, “Gonna take you home after our shifts, you’d like that, yeah?” His arms hold him up, propped on either side of your head. 

“Yes, fuck please,” you agree, turning your face, and feeling him press a kiss to your shoulder blade.

“Gonna have you ride my face,” he promises, dragging his nose between your shoulder blades, “Wanna make that pussy feel so good, till you can’t fucking take it anymore.”

“Fuck Aemond,” you shiver with delight at his filthy words, at the promise of a repeat of the first night you’d been together. A promise of more. 

“Missed you too much,” he murmurs against your shoulder, sending warmth pooling in your belly, “Need you close to me.”

“I missed you,” you whimper, “Fuck, need you so bad.”

“I’m all yours,” he says, nearly whimpering himself, “Fuck baby, you’re so tight, feel so good clenching around my cock.”

“Yeah?” you ask, lifting your head slightly, and glancing back through hooded eyes.

Aemond maneuvers himself, leaning to capture your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss as he continues to pound into you. 

“Fuck….c’mon baby, one more time,” Aemond encourages as heat winds a tight coil of pleasure in your belly, “Can’t have my baby only cumming once, now can I? Come on, that’s a good girl.”

The pitch of your cries increases and you slam your face against the pillow to muffle your strangled cry as your whole body tense, pussy constricting like a vice around his cock as you come. It’s intense, it burns with a brutal passion that paints stars behind your eyelids. 

Aemond’s thrusts become sloppier and with a few more slaps of his hips, you feel his cock pulsate inside of you and the warmth release of his cum filling you up. You turn your cheek from the pillow, your body tingling with the remnants of your orgasm as you suck in a breath. Gently, Aemond pulls out of you, peppering kisses down the length of your spine as he does so. 

You hum happily as he slides out, placing his hands under your thighs and maneuvering you out of the frog-like position you were previously in. Your hip flexors ache, but it’s a good pain--well worth being fucked into the mattress. Aemond turns you on your back, brushing some hair from your sweaty forehead. 

“Hey there,” he says softly. The room is quiet, the rain has stopped. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know if I’ll ever walk right again,” you tell him with a content sigh, “but that aside, I’d say I’m more than alright.”

Aemond chuckles, thumb smoothing your cheekbone, making you lean into his gentle touch. 

“Hold on,” he murmurs, standing up, walking to the adjacent bathroom, and flicking on the light. 

You watch him walk away, admiring his ass. He’s got a rather nice one. You hear him turn the water on and a moment later he returns with a washcloth. Not trusting yourself to stand, you simply spread your legs and let him clean up the remains of your combined releases. Your hips jerk as he carefully brushes against your swollen clit causing him to release a breathy laugh.

Beep beep!

The noise snaps you both out of your post-coital bliss bubble and you hurry to find your clothes. Aemond reaches for his pager, desperate to get his scrubs on. 

Beep beep!

It’s your pager this time. Shit, Baratheon must be pissed. 

Both of you scramble, switching scrub tops as Aemond accidentally tries to put on yours, causing you to erupt into a fit of laughter that is only stopped when he grabs you by the waist and pulls you in for a heated kiss. 

“Stop, stop,” you beg, pushing against his hard chest, “Shit we have to go.”

“One more--”

“You’re insatiable--”

“Oh I’ll show you insatiable,” he says, lips tugging upwards in a smirk, “You just wait until tonight.”

Your cheeks burn as you yank on your bottoms, fixing your hair. Sex hair is not an option, not when Baratheon will be up in arms about your disappearance. Glancing at your pager, you read what it says before clipping it to your waist. 

“Okay, I gotta go,” you tell him, shoving your feet into your sneakers.

“Meet me in the lobby? When you’re done?” he asks, unable to hide his smile as you walk to the door on trembling legs.

“Okay,” you tell him, leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “And we could get dinner?” 

“Anything you want,” he says, cupping your cheeks and kissing you again, “Anything” another kiss, “At” and another one, “all.”

You hum happily, placing your hand over his, your entire body warming with his affection.

“I’ll see you then,” you tell him, unwillingly pulling away and unlocking the door.

You leave first, Aemond leaving a few moments later. Watching as he fixes the collar of his scrubs, you find yourself beaming. Aemond turns, catching your eye before turning down the hall, a small smile playing on his lips.

Gods, this is going to be a long shift.

note: hope you liked it!! LOVE YOU ALL SO MUCH!!

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[throneofsapphics]

taking a vacation with feysand and/or nessian

poly!feysand x reader & poly!nessian x reader

summary: for poly!acotar week day 4, adventure

warnings: none, very brief suggestiveness

a/n: look ... I messed up the dates and it might be barely but I still made it. here's some drabbles/ headcannons!

poly!Nessian x Reader

Perhaps surprisingly, Cassian insisted on planning it all as well as keeping it a surprise. Normally, he’d give in to either of you with enough pestering, but this time he was an iron wall, not a single clue or hint given to either of you. 

He pinched his thumb and forefinger together before drawing them across his lips, even miming tossing a key over his shoulder. You rolled your eyes, but a fond smile crept on to your lips.  “What if I promise not to tell Nes?” He snorted, and you lifted and dropped your shoulders. It was worth a try - but they both knew you were terrible at keeping secrets from either of them.  "It was worth a shot," you mumbled, redirecting your attention to the book on your lap. A shadow covered you, two fingers tilting your chin up. He pressed a kiss against your forehead, chapped lips lingering for a few seconds. "It'll be worth the wait," he reassured, confidence flowing through every word, not a hint of bullshit. Your eyes narrowed, but you gave a nod. Seemingly content, Cassian placed a too-brief kiss to your lips before making his way out of the room.

Nesta was a tad anxious over how his planning would turn out 

“It’s not if it’ll be a disaster, it’s how much of a disaster.”  “Have a little more faith in him,” you chastised, quickly looking away as she turned her glare on you.  “We don’t get much … time free together,” Nesta sighed, and you carefully covered her hand with your own. “I want everything to go well.”  “We’ll be together,” you insisted. “That’s good enough for me.”  Her mouth curved at one corner, a grateful look shot your way, her hand turning up so your palms met, her fingers wrapping around yours and squeezing. 

Cassian was impressed with himself, and firmly believed he had every right to be. He hoped both of you would as well. Mother above, he’d sworn an oath to Tarquin for this. 

“The blindfold is a little extreme,” you grumbled, fidgeting with the cloth knot at the back of your head. Cassian gently swatted your hand down.  “We’re almost there.”  Nesta was quiet next to you, her hand steady in yours, but you could nearly taste the anxious energy rolling from her. You gave her what you hoped was a comforting squeeze.  Salt, and sea, and sand hit you at once, along with a scent distinct to one place …  The knot loosened at the back of your head and you tore the cloth off, rapidly taking in your surroundings. You weren’t in Adriata, but it was unmistakably the summer court.  “Cassian,” you hissed, “you’re banned, for life.”  “I promise we’re fine,” he grinned, and produced a paper from his pocket, holding it out to you with a flourish. Nesta peered over your shoulder as you carefully unraveled it. A letter - attesting Cassian and company were allowed to access this beach and a rental vacation home for the next seven days, signed by Tarquin himself. 

poly!Feysand x Reader

Feyre and Rhys argued over where to take you - in their minds, of course. It seemed the only thing they could agree on was to keep it a surprise. You watched them, eyes glazed, but lips pursed - obviously in some kind of mental argument with each other. A crease formed between Feyre's brow, Rhys's lips pressing into a tight line. You didn't like that. Especially considering you were nearly certain it was related to you somehow, otherwise they would've spoken aloud. Clearing your throat, you tried your best to get their attention. Nothing. "Right, I'm heading out," you finally called. Still no response. The sting and small sense of hurt came naturally, and you let the door slam behind you a little louder than you usually would. Rhys's muffled voice came after the slam but you were already out the door. "I'll make it up to you later, darling," Rhys's voice slid into your mind, smooth and full of promise. "I'll look forward to it," you didn't know if it was possible for your voice to be breathy in your own head, but you certainly gave your best impression of it.

Feyre packed for you, of course.

You perched on the edge of the bed as Feyre started rummaging through the drawers. First, she picked up a sundress with thin straps and flowing fabric that would just brush the middle of your thighs - ideal for hot weather. Next came a thick woolen cloak. You tilted your head, catching her eye in the mirror. "How many places are we going?" "Oh," she carefully folded a long sleeved shirt, "just one." Your mouth parted, but she answered the next question for you. "We can't have you spoiling the surprise." A laugh bubbled from your chest. Their secrecy had only made you more determined in turn, and it turned into something of a game for you over the last week.

Rhys had scouted the location no less than six times in the week before, Feyre accompanying him for a few of the trips. He knew it was safe, but with you he had to be certain.

Your back pressed against his chest, his hand covering your eyes, you winnowed - holding your breath at the sensation that never quite felt comfortable. As soon as you hit solid ground, you attempted to peel his fingers away from your eyes, but his grip was firm. "Rhys," you hissed, and he laughed but released you. Jaw dropping, you spun in a circle. Feyre stood with her hands clasped in front of her, shifting back and forth. An island. "Where," you cleared your throat, "where are we?" "An island not far off the coast," Rhys wrapped an arm around your waist, slowly turning you. You felt Feyre smooth fingers grasp your other hand, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. Rhys was still speaking, you realized and focused back in. "You can see Velaris," his voice was laced with a touch of amusement that told you he was well aware your attention wandered. Sure enough, there was a cluster of lights, but appearing barely larger than your fingertip. Twisting your head over a shoulder, you spotted the ... cabin was an understatement. Mini-palace waiting for you. Shrugging away from Rhys's grip, switching to grasp his hand instead, you tugged them both forward, their laughter trailing behind you.

[crownofgildedlilies]

i would love a percy blurb w the horrible summer party prompt! maybe like he floods the house a lil so it causes a distraction and the two can get out lmaoo. thank u i love ur writing <3

that just screams Percy I'm obsessed

based on this post opening requests up for blurbs with certain prompts!

take me away!

pairing: percy jackson x greek demigod!reader

Really, if you thought about it, you could blame the horrendous party on Ares.

You weren't even sure which of his children had the brilliant idea to throw the party, a desperate attempt to win the favor of someone else at camp you couldn't remember the name of, but you figured Ares had caused enough strife in your life that it was completely fair to blame him.

At least, Percy agreed with you.

"If we leave now, they'll notice," You hummed, hand tugging on the hem of Percy's shirt to keep him close to you. Not that your boyfriend had any intentions of going far, at all, but he had already taken a step towards the cabin exit.

"How will they notice?" He countered, frowning down at you, and you couldn't help the grin on your lips as you pushed forward and kissed his chin quickly.

"Because you're Percy Jackson at an Ares party." You pinched his side. Just because you had forced Percy to try out the party with you, didn't mean it wasn't strange that he had willingly gone. "I think everyone is waiting for Clarisse to come fight you."

"All the more reason for us to leave," Percy emphasized his words with a gentle squeeze of his hands on your hips, and you only rolled your eyes. "Seriously, it's so lame here. They didn't even get anyone from Hermes to steal snacks from town!"

You couldn't help but agree. The music was dry, there were barely any refreshments, and the Ares cabin had an energy like at the start of a fight. Sometimes it was energizing, but now it only felt stifling.

"We can't just walk out. We need to think of an excuse—"

The words had barely passed your lips before Percy was grinning and a sudden round of screaming rose from the back of the cabin where the bathrooms were.

"What did you do?" You hissed with narrowed eyes at Percy, but he just winked and slipped his hand into yours, tugging you towards the exit while everyone else moved to find the source of the commotion.

You were pretty sure you heard someone shout something about broken pipes, but you and Percy were long gone, sprinting across camp with him leading until he came to a stop at the edge of the canoe lake.

"Percy!" You laughed, a little high on adrenaline, and he wrapped you in his arms as he caught his breath, chuckles vibrating in his own chest along with you. "Please tell me you didn't do what I think you just did."

"You said we needed an excuse!" He defended, pulling back slightly from the hug to grin in a way that definitely got him out of trouble more than it should have with you. "Broken toilets spraying water everywhere is a pretty good one. Besides, I gave everyone else at the party an excuse to leave, too."

"I could have just pretended to be sick!"

And maybe it was a little ridiculous to find his logic so endearing, but you held his face between your hands and kissed him soundly, the only sound being the gentle waves lapping against the shore and crickets in the trees.

His hands fell to your waist, warm and strong, pulling you flush against his front. He tasted like sea salt and the Diet Coke he'd drank at dinner, and you thought you could kiss him forever, but soon enough your giggles interrupted and you broke apart.

Percy was grinning at you, so wide you couldn't help but brush the pads of your thumbs against the corners of it. He was the first to speak, voice low and filled to the brim with admiration.

"Maybe I should break toilets more often."

"Just wait until Clarisse finds out it was you, Jackson."

[mistydeyes]

Hey! Don’t know if you’re still taking requests, but if you are, would you mind writing something about reader accidentally burning herself whilst cooking? Nothing major but something still to be concerned about and how TF141 would react? Either platonic or in a relationship is fine :)

Thanks so much ❤️😊

as someone who is absolute shit in the kitchen I can say this has happened to me so many times! thank you for the request <3

summary: When you are challenged to make something in the kitchen, it turns out worse than you expect.

pairing: Task Force 141 x gn!platonic!reader

warnings: swearing, depiction of wounds/burns

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

Cooking was never a great quality of yours. It was a skill you were still learning the hard way. Oftentimes, you would settle for something warm from the mess or be the first one to rip open an MRE on the field. However, after a very lively conversation with Soap, your ego was put to the test as he challenged you to cook something one night. "Just some pasta, no big deal," he chided as you rolled your eyes in annoyance, "unless you don't think you could?" With that, you immediately stormed into the shared kitchen to scrounge something up with Soap following close behind. Your eyes landed on some pasta that was probably there for ages and marinara sauce in a can. "Could I do you for some pasta and sauce?" you asked and before he could make a snarky comment, you turned to find a pot.

"God fuck this," you mumbled as the water took seemingly forever to boil. "Might help if you add some salt!" Gaz interjected as he took a seat next to Soap on a neighboring counter. "Mhmmm," you replied as you continued to watch the stagnant water as if you could make it heat with your mind. Soap and Gaz continued talking about some mindless training while you tuned in to the hums and clicks of the burner. Eventually, you triumphantly shouted as the water began to build to a roaring boil. You let the long strands of pasta sit in the pot as they began to soften. "You forget about the sauce?" Soap reminded and you swore as you scrambled to find another pot. In your haste, you had turned on the burner in preparation. So, when you returned seconds later with the pot, a lit flame met your gaze. "FUCK," you screamed as you whacked at it haphazardly with whatever was closest. "GOD STOP TRYING TO HIT IT WITH THE CARDBOARD BOX," was the last thing you heard from Gaz before your vision was clouded by the rapid dispersal of a fire extinguisher.

When the smoke had cleared, you were left with a throbbing hand and a powdery kitchen. "What is going on in here?" Price asked as he came barreling down the hall with Ghost in tow. "Someone decided to cook us a meal and well," Soap trailed off as you stood there covered in white. Price had no words as he looked at the group standing sheepishly in front of him. "You hurt, Sergeant?" he said sternly and you put up your hands to show the reddish skin. Price pinched his nose bridge as he turned to find a medical kit. "Put that under some water, Sergeant, and the rest of you," he paused turning back around, "clean this shit up."

As Soap and Gaz complained through the various cleaning supplies being put to work, you nursed your hand with some burn cream and gauze. Price had given you an earful about your little mishap and furthermore, had instructed you to visit the infirmary in the morning to make sure you didn't get an infection. You winced as you bound the gauze around the pink tinted areas. Ghost laughed quietly as he watched you patch up your non-dominant hand and you shot a look at him. "Cooking isn't easy, Lt." you barked and he continued to laugh even harder. "Think we should call you Pyro from now on."

┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊

[xxblairexxss]

Trauma

Pairing : Charles Leclerc x reader

Theme : Fluff

In which you asked your boyfriend to try your cooking but ended up giving him a trauma.

“Charles! Can you come here for a second?”

You gave the soup one final stir before turning the stove to a medium heat. You could hear your boyfriend’s steps as he made his way to you. Charles had always been so excited to try your cooking. Whenever you called him while you were in the kitchen, he knew it had something to do with the food. Sometimes he would give it a compliment before he even tasted it, claiming that you could never make anything tastes bad.

“It smells so good, baby!”

“You should try it first! I’m not sure about this one.” You lifted a spoonful of the potato leek soup up to your lips to cool it down before feeding it to Charles.

“You are a good cook, baby. Everything you make tastes good.”

“Stop with the compliment! Taste it first.”

Unknown to him, you had actually dissolved an amount of salt in the spoonful of soup before you fed him. You couldn’t even swallow the soup when you gave it a taste earlier so surely, Charles would spit it out in an instant too, right? Unless if he wanted to be a good boyfriend.

“Is it still hot?”

“No, I cooled it down already.” You saw Charles opened his mouth and consumed the soup with no second thoughts.

“….”

You could see him trying so hard to control his facial expression but few of the attempts went down the drain as you saw his brows furrowed when he turned his face away.

“Did it taste really bad….?”

Charles remained silent but his face was still contorted, looking as if he was in a great affliction as he immediately went to get himself a glass of water and gurgled on it before chugging it down.

“How rude?! Did you really have to do that?”

“Do what?”

“That! You freaking gurgled the water! Did you think I would miss that?”

He placed the mug away and wiped on his mouth before shrugging his shoulders at you. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Oh, you liar!”

“Have you tasted it?” He cocked his brow in a jaunty way and pointed at the soup.

“Yeah, obviously I tasted it first.”

“And you didn’t feel like you have to wash your throat?”

“No, it was fine to me.”

“Are we talking about the same dish?”

You rolled your eyes to his question and dipped the ladle into the pot to fill up your spoon with the soup and swallowed it.

“Wait, you gonna die!” Charles stepped closer and was going to pull the spoon away before you could taste it but you were faster.

“You sure love to overreact, silly!”

“How are you fine?!” He cried out when your face didn’t contorted in the same way he did.

“Because it tasted fine to me! Here, give it another taste.” You used the ladle to refill the spoon and handed it to him but he stepped away. Not in disgust but in fear.

You were going to laugh at his reaction because it was so adorable but you hold it in and scowled at him defiantly. “Charles Leclerc. Why are you acting as if I’m poisoning you?”

“No, I’m not. I’m just…full.”

“All of sudden?” You bursted out laughing but he didn’t find it funny so he was just looking at you in disbelief.

“I don’t think it’s funny, baby. It tasted like something I have never tasted before. I don’t think anyone can messed up their cooking to that extend even with eyes at the back of their head. I’m not joking.” He took the spoon away from you so you could stop shoving it in his mouth.

“I’m sorry, honey. It was the salt!” You cackled with laughter and pinched on his cheek.

“It was the what?”

“The salt! I put tons of it on purpose to see how far you would go to take care of my feelings. Turned out you didn’t even care.” You jutted out your lower lips and punched him on his chest.

“Ow!” Charles winced and took your hand in his to plant a kiss on your palm. “I’m sorry, baby. I tried to control my expression but I could feel myself getting light-headed and I thought I was gonna faint so I lost control of my body.”

“Excuses, excuses.” You playfully sticked your tongue out at him and gave his chest another punch.

“It was the truth!”

“Give it another taste, honey! No more salt this time I promise.”

“No, I’ll pass. I think you might just gave me a trauma.”

[munson-blurbs]

086: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader Series

Chapter 001: I Wouldn't Remember Me, Either

Summary: A new patient arrives at the lab unable to recall his past. With a parallel universe seeping into the real world, you've been assigned to pull his memories to the surface, but what you remember threatens everything.

Warnings: dark themes, mostly canon-compliant (Eddie lives), violence, blood, restraint, amnesia, abduction

WC: 3k

Divider credit to @saradika

He awakens with a jolt, heart pounding in his chest. The room is bathed in a fluorescent haze that pinches his retinas and has him squinting as he adjusts to the light after days spent asleep. 

“Wh-Where…” His throat is raw, and he coughs up blood, spattering his chin and the top of the hospital gown he’s tied into. He tries to wipe it off, but metal digs into his wrists as he realizes he’s cuffed down. He gives another yank, one handcuff clanging against the gurney’s rail. Pain rips through his torso at his sudden movement, so fierce and intense that his vision blurs. He swallows the bile inching up his esophagus and lays back down in defeat. 

A group of men in head-to-toe white surround his bedside within thirty seconds of him waking up, clipboards and charts clutched tightly in their hands. They jot down his vitals that pulse on the nearby monitor, and murmur amongst themselves. One of them must have just come in from a smoke break; the scent of tobacco wafts past 086’s nose and elicits a craving for a pull from a cigarette. 

He shakes it off and musters up all of the energy he can to try and make his voice heard. “What’s going on?”

Only one of the men acknowledges his words, turning to him with a blank, stoic expression. “Patient 086,” he addresses him, the heels of his Oxfords clicking against the hard tile, “we are…pleased to have you here with us.” He lets out a singular heh, a pathetic excuse for what passes as laughter.

086’s stomach twists at this; he takes a deep breath that heightens the ache radiating behind his torn flesh. 

“Why am I…handcuffed?” he grunts out, teeth digging into his lower lip in a grimace. 

The man ignores his question yet again. “You will answer a series of questions before we can determine where to place you.” He glances down at his checklist, pen perched atop the paper, ready to write. “Question one: what is your name?”

A grin appears on 086’s lips, cracking where the thin skin is chapped. “My name? It’s…” He trails off, smile faltering as quickly as it came. “It’s…” No. I have to know it; it’s my goddamn name. He wracks his brain, a throb pulsing against his temples as he struggles to remember the most basic detail about himself. 

“Date of birth?”

Days, months, years fly through his head. Maybe April; that seems right. Or is it August? He mouths the word, rolling it over his tongue to see if it brings back a familiar feeling, but it doesn’t sway him in either direction. “I don’t know.”

He can only offer the same response to the questions about his hometown, his parents, his school. Each missed answer draws an amused expression from the man in white, his eyebrows nearly reaching his salt-and-pepper hair when the patient before him fails to recall his own life history. 

086 watches as the man nods at one of his colleagues, a short man with a crew cut, who promptly pulls a small key from his pocket. In one swift motion, he unlocks the cuffs, still standing guard in case 086 tries to lash out and attack. 

And though 086 feels the urge to fight, to demand answers he should already know, all he can do is bring his left hand to his right wrist. He massages where the handcuff has indented his pale skin, taking note of the three digits etched just below his palm. 

086

“Is this…did I…” On the same arm is a small collection of bats; recognition burns in his brain, but he can’t bring forward the memory of why the tattoos are there. 

“You already had a host of markings before coming into our care,” Salt-and-Pepper remarks brusquely, “but the numeric identifier is our way of keeping track of patient whereabouts and achievements.”

Confusion furrows 086’s brows and creases his forehead. “My…achievements?”

“Your achievements,” Salt-and-Pepper confirms, his mouth pressed into a straight line. “Once you are healed enough to participate in lessons, we can begin determining what assets you bring to our project.”

“Project?” he repeats dumbly, disorientation morphing into ire at the lack of answers. His fists clench instinctively; the older man’s eyeline flickers towards the slight movement, but he doesn’t order him to be re-cuffed. 

The already frigid air chills even more as the man offers a horrible smile. “You have an awful lot of questions, don’t you?” He clicks his tongue against his teeth with another unnerving laugh. “An inquisitive one. Unfortunately, I’m not at liberty to provide those answers.” He nods at the colleague holding the keys, who promptly slides the handcuff around the patient’s wrist once again, his brief moment of freedom slipping away as quickly as it came. 

“After I help with the project…then I can go home?” The patient looks at the men before him, scanning their faces for some inkling of a response. “When can I go home?” he asks more forcefully, body aches be damned. 

Salt-and-Pepper crosses his arms over his broad chest. “And where is home, 086?” His voice is soft, but his eyes are steely with malice. “Tell you what: give us your address and we’ll take you there right now.” He waits a beat, smirking with the knowledge that his patient won’t be able to remember. “That’s what I thought.”

He pivots on his heel and walks out the door. The group of men follow him without another word, their footsteps disappearing down the hall. 

086 lays back down and breathes a terse exhale of frustration. Tears sting at his eyes as the realization of his state of utter helplessness sinks in. He wants to call out for someone, anyone, to save him, but he can’t think of a single person.

This is Hell, he thinks. Numbness overtakes his body as he begins accepting his defeat. I’ve done something to royally piss off God, and now I’m in Hell. 

Fingers from his unchained hand reflexively fly to his scalp, a nervous habit that penetrates the fuzziness coating his sense of self. He’s met with no resistance, no tangles, no snags; his hair had been buzzed down while he was unconscious. 

A neuron fires: this isn’t right. I don’t know what it is, but something is very wrong. It’s the final straw that sends him hurtling over the edge. 

“Goddammit! Let me go! LET ME GO!” He thrashes against the restraints, ignoring the pain ripping through him. A stitch on his abdomen pops with a ping, fresh blood seeping through the thin hospital gown. 

Three of the white-clad men rush into the room. One holds down his free hand while another pins his head to the stiff cotton masquerading as a pillow. 086 leans over and bites the nearest man’s wrist until he can taste metal on his tongue, spitting red. The bleeding man holds strong, almost unfazed; it’s clearly not his first time having teeth sunk into his skin. 

The third man is Salt-and-Pepper. He stands to 086’s left and plunges a needle into his neck without a moment of hesitation. The syringe’s serum leaves him warm and tingly, eyelids weighed down. “Good night,” the man whispers in sing-song, his malicious chuckle warped as the patient floats into a sedated slumber. 

The last thing 086 registers before sleep pulls him back into its embrace is the voice of the man with the now-empty syringe. 

“He’ll learn.” A pause. “C’mon, Snell. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Snell. The man who I bit is called Snell. 

And then he’s out. 

270 days. You’ve been here for 270 days, each one identical to the last. Wake up, attend hours upon hours of training, sleep, repeat. Every morning brings the sinking realization that escape is impossible and freedom is a far-off dream; your new destiny is that of a lab rat. Even the hands of the wall clock have stopped ticking by, their batteries petering out some months ago at exactly 2:17. 

If only you’d ignored the phone when it rang that evening. If only you’d run the other way. If only you hadn’t quite literally bumped into Dr. Snell as you’d bolted through the woods, desperate to avoid the evil looming over your ill-fated town. If only–

“055.”

Your head snaps up from your worn copy of Of Mice and Men when Dr. Moseley calls out your identifier—you refuse to consider it your name—from the doorway. He offers a half-smile that has you shriveling inward. Ever since Dr. Brenner’s untimely passing days earlier, Dr. Moseley has been increasing your training, trying to make you the secret weapon that would allow him to step into the late scientist’s shoes.

“Yes, Dr. Moseley.” You force a chipper tone, swallowing your fear and dog-earing your page. You’ve read this book so many times that you could rewrite it from memory, but it serves as your only source of entertainment. It’s rumored that the scientists have access to a small television set, but none of the patients have ever seen it.  

He crooks a finger, gnarled with arthritis, to beckon you over. You stand up from your cot while his eyes bore into you, smoothing the nonexistent creases in your hospital gown. The tile floor is frigid against your feet; you have no socks to serve as barriers against it. Every square inch of this place is always cold.

The doctor fixes his posture and peers downward, an assertion of dominance that does not go unnoticed. “Your…expertise is needed.” His nose twitches slightly. “Come.”

You and he both know that he doesn’t even have to tell you to follow him; obedience has been ingrained in you well before you’d been brought to the lab. Before it was the doctors, it was your friends. Before your friends, it was your parents.

A semblance of a smile flutters across his face as you comply with his order. “We have a new patient,” he explains, keeping his volume to a minimum as the two of you make your way down a dimly-lit corridor. “Like you, he was raised on the outside, but there are two major differences between you and him. Number one, he’s not a good listener.” Dr. Moseley chuckles, clammy thumb and forefinger gently perched underneath your chin in a display of affection that leaves you wanting to retch. “I had to sedate him earlier today after an…outburst. And, number two, he cannot recall a thing about his past. Not even his name. That’s where you come in, my dear.”

Another unnecessary statement; besides subservience, your only real use is memory pulling. It’s what you’ve been training for since arriving here last summer.

“We need to know why he was in The Nether, what he did, and anything he may have altered,” he continues. “It’s also highly unlikely that he was alone, and we need to know who else was with him. We can’t have people with this knowledge going unmonitored.” He pauses and makes unwanted, harsh eye contact. “You will find out this information for us so we can ensure everyone’s safety.”

“Of course,” you murmur, nodding your head and casting aside the doubt you harbor over the truthfulness of his words.

Dr. Moseley pushes open the door to the new patient’s room, where Drs. Snell and Cavendish are already awaiting your entrance. You note the beige bandage wrapped around Dr. Snell’s forearm but refrain from asking questions.

“This is 086,” Dr. Moseley reports, gesturing to the gurney where the young man lay sleeping on his side, arm crossed over his face in a makeshift shield. Bits of dried blood still stick to his exposed cheek despite the attempts to clean him up. His chest rises and falls rhythmically; if you didn’t know any better, you would think he was in the midst of a peaceful slumber. But there is no peace here. There never has been. 

“Is there anything we do know about him?” The more information you have, the easier it will be to access his memories. 

Dr. Cavendish clears his throat. “I was part of the team that rescued him from The Nether,” he ventures hesitantly. “I can allow you into the memory so you will know what to look for.”

You nod, but Dr. Moseley puts out a hand to stop you before you can even begin. “If she does that, will she have the stamina to access 086?” His voice is clipped, not wanting to waste more precious time. 

“It’ll just be a moment,” you reassure him. Memory retrieval is much easier when the person brings it to the forefront of their brain; the challenge occurs when memories are tucked away as though being stored for safekeeping. 

When Dr. Moseley says nothing, you take a step towards Dr. Cavendish. “Tell me to stop if it hurts at all,” you say, taking his hand in yours. Your eyes meet his steeled blue ones as you pull the ribbon that unravels his thoughts. 

The night isn’t pitch-black, but is submerged in a bluish gray that permeates the atmosphere. Thick, tentacle-esque vines snake along the ground, and you—Dr. Cavendish, rather, since you’ve wormed into his perspective and don his skin—carefully avoids stepping on them with Hazmat suited feet. 

“I’ve got one!” An urgent voice calls from a distance. “But if he isn’t dead yet, he will be soon.”

Dr. Cavendish spins to face where his colleague stands, striding over to the crumpled body lamely laying in the dirt, surrounded by a flock of dead creatures. The victim is covered in blood; it’s smeared across his face and oozing from punctures along his abdomen. It mats his frizzy hair, tints the ground maroon, and fills the air with the smell of iron. 

“I’ll get his legs, you get under his arms.” Dr. Cavendish commands, already bending at the knees and bracing his back to lift the young man. “On the count of three. One, two—”

“That’s enough.”

Two words from Dr. Moseley drag you back to reality. You swipe at the blood that’s gathered under your right nostril and sniff, steadying yourself on the gurney rail. In front of you, Dr. Cavendish massages the bridge of his nose to quell the inevitable headache that follows memory accession. 

Your journey was brief, but you’ve gathered sufficient information to delve into 086’s history. 

“Okay,” you breathe, grabbing 086’s cuffed hand. This is a much different set-up than you’re accustomed to. For one, there’s no way to make eye contact, not while 086 is asleep. Everything prior to this has just been practice with scientists with the goal of eventually infiltrating the minds of Russian nemeses. 

A tattoo peeks out from the patient’s drooping collar, an insect’s spindly legs emerging from a soft tuft of chest hair and fresh scars. There’s a familiarity to the faded ink, but Dr. Moseley does not afford you the luxury of uncovering it.

“055.” His voice is stern. “Please begin.”

Your open eyes find 086’s closed ones as you try to ignore your nagging conscience. This is a person; someone who, as far as anyone knows, has only committed the crime of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Everything within you screams no, that this is a violation, but another brusque throat-clearing catapults you into compliance.

Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood. You grasp onto the image from Cavendish and let yourself into 086’s mind. 

You wade through darkness for a bit, hyper focused on finding a resembling memory. Your temples throb as you concentrate on your search. Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood.

Nothing.

Squeezing his hand a bit tighter, you will the wave of remembrance to crash over you. You’re pouring out every ounce of energy you possess, a draining battery, as you stand alone in utter darkness.

Blue haze. Bat-like creatures. Blood. 

You latch onto something and pull yourself into it. The visual is hazy, likely because of 086’s own inability to recall it naturally, but you can hear it all. 

Unidentifiable screeching objects–possibly the bat-esque monsters you’d seen in Dr. Cavendish’s memory–shriek and thwack against metal in rapid succession just as a scream roars over the clatter. It’s not one of terror, but of vengeance, and you feel your physical self tense up with a rage you didn’t know you held.

“Come on!” bellows 086, the challenge rising up from his diaphragm and rattling his whole body.

The next sounds happen almost simultaneously: fabric tearing, fangs hungrily sinking into flesh, and an unmistakable cry of pain.

You don’t know how much longer you can stand to listen to this man wail in torment as he’s ripped apart, teetering on the brink of death. The cry becomes strangled as though his throat is being compressed, and it allows you to hear a far-away shout, a boy’s voice thick with anguish.

“EDDIE!”

At this one word, you stumble out of the memory and nearly fall to the tile floor. Your breathing becomes shallow as the present infiltrates your psyche, too distraught to keep your nosebleed from snaking down your lips. You’ll be reprimanded for not remaining in the memory longer to identify the mystery boy, but you can’t bring yourself to find it again. 

Dr. Moseley catches you by the crook of your elbow, keeping you upright long enough for you to get a better look at 086. His hair is shaved down to the scalp, patchy in places where his curls were particularly knotted and hard to remove. He’s added a few more tattoos to his collection since you’d last seen him almost one year ago, including a swarm of bats trailing up his arm. His fingers are naked without his signature rings; the base of his knuckles are tinged green from the costume jewelry. But it’s him; it’s definitely him.

Patient 086 is Eddie Munson, and for good reason, he absolutely despises you.

--

[deathbecomesthem]

Smut blurb | 900ish words

Sub!Eddie Munson x Reader - Reader has a vagina.

A/N: Eddie is a true switch in my mind, but that definitely means he enjoys his time letting a partner take some control. He has a bit of a pain kink here. Everything is fully consensual and enjoyed by both parties. This is an established relationship.

+18 ONLY

Warning: Biting, restraints, oral sex, a tiny bit of blood. I'm just trying to get my groove back, keep your expectations low.

---

Please. The word has never sounded as beautiful as it does coming through his pretty mouth. A whisper, wet with tears. Please. Please. You want to taste them, feel them on your tongue and swallow them.

Eddie whimpers at the contact of your lips to his mouth. He holds as steady as he can, but you can feel the warm salty tears that have collected on his swollen mouth and your kiss turns to teeth. Tender flesh, raw from Eddie’s gnawing, gives way and now it’s copper and salt your tongue tastes as it licks across. You can feel his cock leaking at the feeling of your teeth and tongue and know that a light pinch of his nipple would have him cumming into the open air. 

Please. The word, warm and wet, is exhaled across your still open mouth. You take notice of the tremble in his arms. He’s not fighting against the rope anymore, too tired for the fight. Everything is heightened for him now, his body understands it’s under your control. You give and take, pain and pleasure. He’s feeling it. Every touch. Every small movement of your body that makes the bed creak and give underneath your form.

“Please? Baby. You’re being so polite. Haven’t I given you enough, hm?” You whisper in his ear. His hair is pulled back into a low ponytail that he pulled back with his own two hands. At the time, he imagined a scene almost exactly like the one he’s found himself in. Vulnerable, open wide and aching. 

Please. It’s the only word he can think to say. He’s far gone, a little too far gone for what’s coming next, so you straddle his chest. You can feel his hazy eyes on you, barely registering your naked chest. The only thought in his head that he needs to feel. And then -

Crack. Your open handed slap across his already reddened cheek vibrates down his neck. His ears ring at the contact, and the sting across his skin.  It does the trick, the fog clears. You can see his pupils widen, and he’s focused on the sight before him. You, you, you. 

“There he is,” you coo, running a finger down his chest across the fresh bite marks, “my good boy.” 

Eddie’s mouth is open, but he doesn’t say that word again. He’s quiet. If he’s quiet, he might finally get his prize. He has been good tonight. Well, he’s been good enough after he spent the hours preceding this fun goading you into it. Teasing you. Putting a hand to your back and leading you to the edge where he knows you can really test the limit and make him be good for you. Pushes you to the place where the tears don’t make you soft for him, but instead pull the tension a little tighter.

“Eddie. Tell me right now, because I will be so disappointed if I found out you’re lying to me,” you pinch his nipple between your fingers, not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to get his attention, “if I ride you, will you be able to hold on long enough to give me what I need?”

Eddie knows what you’re asking, and he wants to nod immediately. Yes, please. Please. Sit down on me, give me what I need. But he knows what will happen as soon as the tip of his cock feels your warm and wet cunt brush against him. So, he takes a calming breath, focusing on your face, and shakes his head. 

You reach above his head, and loosen the biting grip of the ropes around his wrists. “You really are so good tonight, Eddie. Thank you for telling me the truth.” Eddie’s arms are weak, and they drop to the bed. His cock, though, is still red and swollen from the hours of play without the satisfaction of ejaculation. “I’m gonna give you something we can both enjoy.”

You pull yourself off of Eddie’s chest, leaving it damp with your arousal, and swing your body around to straddle his face. “I’m gonna ride you, and when you make me feel good, I'll shove that fat cock of yours down my throat. How’s that sound?”

Eddie groans in answer, and you throb at the feeling of it across your slick slit. You’ve been on the edge for a while, and you don’t even care if he makes you cum. This is really about Eddie tonight, and you want to make sure he gets everything he deserves. Everything he wants. And then you feel the fiery muscle, his flat tongue, run against you. He plays you every time, like a fucking fiddle. And suddenly, you feel his fingers dig into the flesh of your hips, pulling you down onto his face. His nose is prodding at your swollen and hard clit. He’s gonna make you cum before you even realize he’s managed to get the upper hand.

At the feel of your contracting muscles, Eddie’s cock remembers the way you grip it. He can feel the way they hold it tightly, and he’s cumming right along with you. It’s a little late, but he can feel your hot mouth around him, catching as much of him as you can, and he pulls you down even harder onto him. His clever mouth holds your clit firmly between his tongue and upper lip, and it matches the rhythm of your mouth on his cock. 

In the afterglow, the soft whispers between the two of you are sweeter than honey. You kiss the purpling bruises around his nipples, and coo at him. Baby. Was this too much? You’re gonna be sore tomorrow. Eddie pulls you closer and bites your shoulder. 

“You know I’ll tell you if it’s too much. I love you.”

[zwhoreo]

Second post… i’m BACK!

swimming - luffy x gn!reader

suggestive fluff

summary: luffy needs a bath, but he can’t swim. how can you help?

includes.. just detailed descriptions of you washing luffy in the ocean, basically

words: 1.7k

_________________________________________

It’s warm today, the sun on the water is nearly blistering, the waves are gentle in the cove you’ve found and it’s all electric blue. The morning is ripe. There’s no wind to stir the ocean here. You sit on a low cliff, white rock over sky water, kicking your feet. You want to go swimming

You’re in a bathing suit, white, small, your hair is salt-burned, dry. The water is clear, you wouldn’t get hurt if you dove from here, right?

Luffy is playing on the beach, investigating something you can’t see, wandering around without a shirt on, tanned by the summer. He sits down on the sand and looks up, excitedly, waving to you, shouting, “[name]! I found something cool! Hey, [name]!”

You wave back, then motion for him to join you on the rock, beckoning him with a smile, and he doesn’t hesitate before scrambling up to sit beside you. He’s holding a crab in his hands, tiny and red and obviously furious, scared. 

“LUFFY! Put that down, he’ll pinch you.” You take the crab gently, looking around for a tidepool, and on cue you feel a sharp sting on your finger as it grabs hold of you, flailing, falling into the water below. You yelp and Luffy quickly takes your hand, inspecting the drop of blood pooling on your skin. 

He looks sad, a little angry. But concerned, too, as he stares down at your finger. “You ok?” His voice is genuine, kind. You reach out with your other hand, petting his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m alright, it doesn’t hurt.” You smile reassuringly, laughing a little. “I liked the crab.”

“Ya did?” His smile glows, he gets close to your face, his eye contact almost too much. He’s almost in your lap is how close he is to you. So you put a hand in his hair, because that’s what it seems like he wants. 

His hair is greasy. 

Trying to be nice, you don’t pull away, you pet his stringy, sticky hair and he’s still just shining with happiness at your touch, so it’s worth it. You notice the shimmer of sweat across his skin, the sand stuck to his body, he hasn’t had a bath in awhile. 

Maybe it’s the effort it takes? The way his energy fades away, how it gets hard to move in even as little as a few minutes in a bath? So times like that it’s just so much easier not to, he’s usually pretty dirty, which annoys you but you understand a bit. 

“Luffy…” You run your thumb along his forehead. “You’re a little sweaty, want me to help you clean off?”

He looks at you curiously, big-eyed and uncomprehending. 

“Wanna go swimming?”

“Huh? But… but I can’t, remember?” Luffy tilts his head a bit, his hands fidgeting, playing with the skin on your bare thighs. 

“Yeah, I know. But I’m gonna hold you. And I’ll help you wash yourself.” You cup his face in your hands, feeling him lean forward a little into your touch.

“Oh- okay!” He smiles at you, excited at the prospect of being held, which he always loves, no matter the context, so he turns around and jumps off the rock on the beach again. 

“Hold on!” You follow him onto the sand, catching him by the shoulders, and when you’re right up in his face again you say, “lemme undress you first.” 

His eyes light up, he grins and tries to hold still as you drop to your knees, unbuttoning his pants, but he immediately starts rolling back and forth on his feet as you slide your hands down the smooth skin of his bare hips. He’s brimming with energy, he shudders under your every touch, you admire him as you undress him, tossing his shorts into the sand behind you, now he’s standing naked on the beach of your little cove. He looks good like this. 

But you don’t want him for anything else, right now, you just wanna go swimming, so as you press your body against his it’s an embrace of friendship more than lust, showing him that you’re here and you’re gonna keep him safe in the water. 

He pulls away so he can kiss you, his lips warm and damp, pushing against you with too much pressure so you stumble a little before he grabs your waist and lets you relax into his arms, comfortably, quietly. 

“This is gonna be fun, huh?” He says into your mouth, still wanting to keep the kiss. And his hips stutter against yours instinctively, so you place your hands on his thighs gently to settle him down.

“Mm.. mhm..” you say, muffled by his kiss. He’s so eager, just to be close to you, to be doing something with you, it’s adorable. 

You take his hand and dip your feet into the water, the shock of the cold is startling but it soothes the burns from the white sand and you pull him along with you. 

But Luffy doesn’t need encouragement. He runs up to his knees, soft waves hitting his legs as he giggles and looks back at you, his naked form a silhouette against the cloudless sky, framed wonderfully by the cove, you look him up and down slowly even as he tugs your hand to pull you in with him. 

“I’m coming!” You assure him with a smile as you ignore the icy feelings and wade deeper, lazy currents pushing you towards him. “You’re beautiful,” you tell him honestly. 

“Thanks!” He goes further, up to his hips, shuddering a bit as the water laps between his exposed legs, staring deep into your eyes. “So are you.”

And without much thought you lay down in the water, temperature shock coursing through you, your hair drifting away in a swirling halo. Luffy wastes no time in laying himself on top of you. 

“H-hey- no-“ You wrestle him off and into your arms, fighting to keep from sinking, and his body is soft, skin like velvet, he slips easily into your tight embrace, and smiles innocently and this is what he wanted from the start. 

He hasn’t lost his energy yet, he still squirms playfully as you drag him further out, feet kicking the water, splashing you, so you splash him back and he shrieks, biting down on your shoulder and shoving himself against you. 

“You gonna wash me?” He seems joyful at the thought, which is a bit surprising, you thought he’d complain more, but he just gazes up at you expectantly and stretches a bit, leaning back in the water, muscles shifting under his skin as the sun dances off of his glistening curves. 

“Y-yeah, hold on…” So you wade out to where the water encircles your waist and you let his body drift, supported by your arms and the salt in the water, and you dig your fingers into his hair again, pulling gently as you caress his scalp and he closes his eyes in complete bliss already. 

His thick, black hair becomes loose and shimmery against the waves. He leans into your touch and it moves with him, he’s alive but at peace, his skin is golden in the sun and against the water and he has turned to silk. 

So it’s easy to slip your hand down his hair and over the back of his neck as he shivers in your arms, eyes opening, hooded. Your nails dig into his upper back and he arches into you sharply, you adjust your hold on his arms. And time slows as you curl your fingers around his waist, a gentle gasp escaping his lips as you begin to knead the sensitive muscle and you bring your face against his, just so you can hear and feel his breathing. And you set out to go swimming so you raise your feet above the sand of the ocean floor and float beside him, the curves of your body rising above the water for Luffy to sleepily admire.

He is getting sleepy. Those hooded eyes turn down further as his body sways in the water that’s been taking his energy slowly, then all at once. He’s going slack against you so you have to work more to keep him up as you still touch and rub him diligently. The ocean cradles him even as it drains him.

“Don’t fall asleep yet,” you whisper in his ear as you trace your fingers to his chest, his abs, an intimate grace as you lean even closer. His breathing hitches, then slows. He kicks the water again, a desperate struggle to stay awake so he can feel your touch for longer. You feel the rise and fall of his stomach as your hands slide lower, pressing into his skin almost painfully, the salt of the water helping to raw his skin and wash away the dirt and sweat of the week. 

He tries to say something but you can’t hear him, you quickly put a hand under his head to keep him above water. Propping him up you return to his hips - the sensitive, soft skin just inside his hips - making him squirm with dwindling strength, making a smaller sound, a sound of pleasure. You kiss him delicately, taking time to savor his quiet need and want. 

Digging your fingers into his upper thighs makes him tremble and whine for you. His body is still warm through the water, his muscles flex instinctively at the foreign touch, this is what he’s been craving. The sensation, for him, only grows as you move inwards, the caressing of the inside of his legs is nearly too much. He’s so tired now, that feeling is the only thing left in his mind. 

As your touch becomes a rhythm he begins to slip away, clouded with fatigue, the water hungry for the last of his energy. You feel him begin to go limp in your arms and you speed up your cleaning, you don’t want him to be out for too long, his slacked mouth curls into a smile as he falls asleep. 

And when you’re done, and his skin looks polished, his hair not so stringy anymore, you find the sandbed again with your toes and swim him back to shore. He becomes heavy as you leave the ocean. You drag him onto the beach and immediately kneel over him to check on him, make sure he’s ok, and he’s still asleep but he moves a bit, just enough to reach up and squeeze your hand.

[ohraicodoll]

i see a prompt request 👀 what about “stop trying to help me it’s just hurting you” with feral reader… maybe joel is the one helping her with the adjustment to settlement life in wyoming? or they’re out on a run and she gets hurt? anything tbh you decide

Yesssss I am all for this one. I had some downtime and managed to write this so fast. So have some angst and maybe some lore and both of them fighting lol

Left Behind Joel Miller x f!Reader/OFC The Last of Us 2.5k Words (3rd POV) (Lots of callbacks to Monsters but not necessary to read first. Feral Reader's name is used sparingly so yes, she's technically more an OFC as you get lore in this one) Summary: Settling into life in Jackson wasn't going so easily and Joel is hit with the possibility she may not be welcomed to stay.

“Joel, she’s trouble, man,” Tommy ran a hand through his hand exasperatedly, pacing the hard packed ground in front of both their homes, “I know shit was rough out there. Hell, the three of you were practically hissing at everyone when you came through that first time, but it’s been a couple months. She’s scaring half the town and you’re scaring the other half acting like her goddamn guard dog.”

The older Miller brother clenched his jaw, hands on his hips and trying not to show how much his split open knuckles smarted, “I wouldn’t have to if those assholes would stop treating her like a fucking pariah or giving her shit every time she tries to stand up for herself.” “You have got to admit it’s not exactly like she’s giving them much reason not to act that way,” Tommy sighed and spread his hands pleadingly, “She threatened to stab Johnny at the lumberyard through his hand for looking at her weird, not to mention I’ve already had to take her off patrol duty with anyone but you after she beat Grant-” “That boy learned the hard way to keep his hands to himself,” Joel cut him off.

Tommy pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, before glancing back at his house where his very pregnant wife currently was, “Brother, I can’t have her acting this way. I get it’s not perfect here, but we can’t have trouble like this. Maria…she’s already considering that if Red doesn't get her shit together she may not be welcome to stay.” Silence fell between the two, boiling and tense. He didn’t have to even look up to know the look on his older brother’s face at his words, could feel it as if flames were on his skin. It was like lighting a match around gasoline, waiting for the whole thing to ignite. He knew that as much as his brother cared about the young girl in his charge, he also cared about the woman that came along with them. And when Joel Miller cared about something, he’d go through hell for them. “That’s not gonna happen,” Joel bit out harshly, snarling. His irises had darkened to almost black, the hints of hazel swallowed almost entirely. His body was tight, a wire begging to snap. But the younger of the two could only shake his head, feeling lost and unable to comprehend what to do. Torn between the home he had helped create and protect, his wife who had the weight of the community on her shoulders while preparing to give birth to his first kid, and his brother’s protectiveness over the rough woman currently inside the house. “Just get it sorted. Talk to her. My hands are tied, I can only do so much,” Tommy sighed, turning and heading back across the lot to his own home and life. Joel didn’t watch him leave. His eyes were trained on the ground, blood roaring in his ears as he replayed the words over and over again. They were considering kicking Red out. He’d dragged her all over the country, to Wyoming then Colorado and Salt Lake and back to Jackson, forcing her to settle down only for her to get kicked out. He knew she was having a hard time. She’d never stayed in a QZ, had stayed out in the world too long alone or with the wrong people and didn’t know how to deal with a community like this. Normal people who didn’t have to tear each other apart for scraps. While he and Ellie didn’t have the smoothest transition and were still rough around the edges, they’d managed while the woman had hit wall after wall. She was defensive, quick to react and bare her teeth. It was fine out beyond the gates but inside Jackson where everyone was trying to find a new normal it had caused issues. One of the steel workers was Grant’s brother and hadn’t taken kindly to her beating the shit out of him. He had refused to give her some parts they needed for the house and then called her a bitch when she’d slapped his payment down and went to snatch the items. But he hadn’t registered Joel around the corner listening and before they all knew it his fist was flying into the man’s face. He’d have done more if Tommy hadn’t broken them up. But his brother was right and she did have a reputation, had scared a lot more than half the town. He’d seen the way mothers had pulled their kids away or the looks some of the guardsmen gave her. Ellie had told off more than a few, shouting across the plaza when she’d catch it, defensive. He’d watched Red shrink in the settlement, only fully confident like she usually was outside of Jackson. He’d figure it out. He had to. 

With a deep sigh, he turned and went inside. Ellie had been sent to take care of the errands and get the groceries they both knew Red wouldn’t be able to get. The teenager was understanding and was doing the best she could to help, keeping any complaints to herself or to him when they were alone to not burden the woman. She was as protective of her as he was of both of them. The house was quiet. It was all something he was still getting used to. Having a house again, a home where he didn’t have to worry about getting attacked or FEDRA raids, no more furniture salvaged from garbage dumps and pipes that rattled without a drop of hot water. Jackson made it easy to get comfortable, to feel like it was before the world was ravaged. Easy for him at least. He paused and waited a moment, hearing the almost imperceptible sound of breathing on his good side before he rounded the kitchen counter and looked down. Red sat on the tiled floor, knees pulled up to her chest, head resting back against the cabinet doors. Her face was blank but he’d learned to read the small hints of thoughts on her face. Lips pressed tight, eyes focusing on her nails even as he hovered. She’d heard. He knew she had. “Should I start packing my bag now or wait for Maria to give me the word?” she chewed on her lip, feigning nonchalance. “Neither. You ain’t going nowhere,” Joel bit out with a furrowed brow. She laughed humorlessly, mouth turning into a grimace, “That’s not up to you, Tex.” Those eyes looked up finally, met his, and he could see the resignation there. This wasn’t something she was going to fight if they made her leave. She’d do it and he knew why, knew it was for them, but refused to accept it. “Like hell it ain’t.” “Stop,” abruptly getting to her feet, she hissed at him, “Just stop it. Stop trying to help me. It’s only hurting you and Ellie. You have actual family here, Joel. Flesh and blood family. You could murder someone and they’d still keep you here and Ellie as well, but I’m a liability. To you, to her, to all of them. I get it.” “I don’t give a fuck if you get it, Red,” Joel was angry, getting into her face, “They’re not kicking you out. End of conversation.” “Not end of fucking conversation,” she growled, “I’m not risking yours and Ellie’s only chance at a safe, stable life. If that means I go back out there then so be it.”

“God, you’re so fuckin’ stubborn sometimes,” he all but yelled through his teeth. A laugh tore from her, sharp and loud, her brow raised, “Oh that’s hilarious coming from you.” He wanted to beat his fist through the fucking wall, pick up a glass and shatter it if only to release some of the frustration dealing with her gave him. That damn martyrdom that he hadn’t ever been able to get rid of, scream out of her no matter how many times he told her to stop it. She was so willing to throw herself away for his or Ellie’s sake as if what happened to her didn’t matter and it drove him insane every single time. “You better quit that shit,” Joel ground out between clenched teeth, “That stupid fucking selfless bullshit. For what? As punishment because you lost some people? That…fucking Harry you were with?” He hadn’t ever brought up the name she had mentioned once because he knew what it was like for someone to bring up the past. She hadn’t offered much of her background and he never asked, but there had been small moments. That name had stuck in his brain though, like the little stars tattooed on her collarbone and the “love ya” on her skin in someone else’s handwriting. 

The silence following his words were deafening, all emotion wiped off her face. It was as if someone had scrubbed away anything that made her a person, human, in seconds. 

Then something darker took over and twisted and she smiled, a showing of teeth, and eyes so hollow they seemed like caverns, “Is that what you think? That I’m punishing myself over some boyfriend that died when the world fell apart as if most of the fucking population didn’t also die too? That I’m what? A sad little heartbroken girl pining over some lost love?” A laugh left her lips and it felt like poison, dripping venom. He clenched his fist, anger burning hot, but he knew better than to say anything or approach her when she was like this. Dangerous. Sometimes she was so dangerous he wondered how he had ever thought it was safe to turn his back on her. “That’s real sweet, Tex…I shot him, you know?” she laughed again, not a bit of humor on her face, “Not because he was infected. No. He wasn’t even bit, didn’t have a scratch on him. He was fully alive and healthy before I blew his face right off.” She’d mentioned the man’s name long ago on the road when they’d gotten drunk out. It had slipped out of her covered in pain and regret, Harry and her younger sister, how she'd been barely starting her life when the apocalypse hit. A singer. Ellie had mentioned she had been trying to be a singer and he’d always pictured a bright eyed girl unprepared for what was to come. He had wondered if that death had been what had broken her, guttered her and tore out her soul to the point she lived on instinct only, how that girl had become the hissing creature before him. Now he wasn’t so sure.

Stepping closer to him, he resisted the urge to back away, to show that he was like the rest of them and scared of her too. She almost smiled wider and he knew she was expecting him to, a test almost, “You see we were on a run. Harry, me, and Annie. Spooked some runners so we booked it out of the building because back then I wasn’t much of a fighter, hadn’t learned yet. So I trusted him to keep us safe. Yet, lo and behold, when we get through the front door and I turn around, I see him.” Her words were made of broken glass that cut her apart and made her mouth bleed, devastation and rage coating each one but he didn’t move or try to comfort her lest he got cut too, “Harry had shoved my sister behind so he could get through first then shut the door in her face. I watched them through the glass tear her apart, screaming my name, because I had trusted him to have her back. Instead he got her killed. So I killed him.”

There was no smile then.  He remembers how they met. Ellie had fallen behind while running from scavengers because he hadn’t put her in front of him. It had been Red who had saved her and like a missing puzzle piece, he could see the picture come together. Knowing her now and how it wasn’t normal for her to go out of her way to help strangers, but she’d helped them.

Because Annie had fallen behind once before and she couldn’t save her. Blamed herself for her death.

“It was my fault and I’ll be damned if I ruin both of your chances at staying here where you are safer. Not because of me,” the snarl had left her face, hackles dropping until just the woman was left. Exhausted and a little sad and lost. It’d broken her, he knew that. In the same way Sarah’s death had left him a shell. But he’d kept going for Tommy, Tess, and eventually Ellie.

She hadn’t had anyone until them and now she thought she was putting them at risk.

Joel frowned and stepped forward, their chests almost pressed together, before cupping her face between his hands. His knuckles were bruised and bloody still, but neither of them cared, had never cared about getting blood on the other, “I hate to break it to you, darlin’, but if you think after that I’d still let you go then you’re wrong. I learned my lesson last time we were in Jackson. We stick together. No one’s getting left behind.”

Her eyes squeezed shut, a broken sigh leaving her lips. Her hands came up and gripped his waist, fingers wrapping around his belt tightly like he was a lifeline. Resignation wrapped her entirely in its embrace and he knew the fight had gone out of her, “I…I don’t know how to be around these people. There’s too many of them and they all stare…I’m going to mess up.”

The admission brought a slight smile to his lips, a crack in the defense she had attempted to put between them and a sign that she was giving in, “Well I think as long as you don’t try to maul or kill anyone and maybe limit to punching one or two people a month, that’ll be good enough.”

She huffed exasperatedly, head falling forward and leaning against his chest. His thumb traced her cheek, the other combing through the tangled mess that was her hair. For all she used to gripe at Ellie for taking care of her own, she wasn’t much better. But the strands were still soft and he took advantage of it when he could, feeling her relax against him.

“I’ll talk to Tommy and Maria. You just give yourself time to adjust and try,” Joel murmured, “We’ll figure it out, but you’re not going anywhere.” She nodded against him and at last wrapped her arms fully around his body, sinking into him while he held her tightly back. They both stayed there for a while, arms tight, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

Joel would pull every string, get every ounce of leverage he could get to ensure she stayed. No one was going to take her away from them.

[peachsayshi]

Hi, Peach! Hope you're doing well! After releasing JJK S2 I can't stop thinking about soft and gentle Suguru. I literally drown in love for him. My precious man😢 If you have the time and desire, could you write one, please?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni)

notes: I hope you enjoy this, nonnie! it's just a soft, domestic drabble with suguru <3 I apologize that it's taken me so long to get back to you, but I hope you enjoy this anyway! x wc: 727

tags: I wrote this in mind when suguru left jujutsu tech; it's fluffy and intimate, only slightly smutty in the end; size kink (ish?)

suguru traces his scarred knuckles down your spine; your damp, bare back a shimmering canvas of silk. you sigh dreamily, holding your knees tightly into your chest, softly inhaling the calming aroma of ylang ylang and salt as it wafts up in the steam from the tub.

the corner of suguru's mouth ticks into a grin.

you're perched between his legs. the two of you content in the silence surrounding you. suguru's hand treks upward from your tailbone, softly traveling along the column until his strong, but slender digits circle around the back of your neck. he runs his thumb over the impressions of his love, of the marks littered all over your neck.

you're here with me. he thinks with gratitude.

he arches forward, pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder. his other arm curling around your body as he swallows you into his broad chest.

"do you realize you are my world?" he whispers gently into your ear, his ethereal voice making you tremble, prompting ripples to form across the bath water.

you know it's true. it's undeniable , in fact. that's why you are here in this very tub with him right now. that's why he makes love to you like never before nowadays.

because despite everything that happened, your presence only proves just how deep the roots of your love for each other goes.

it's tangled up around your very hearts, around your very souls.

you unravel and suguru releases his arm to give your limbs the space to extend out. you spin around, waves forming and sloshing over the bath tub as you nestle into his arms. you're now facing him, your hands placed gently on his broad shoulders with his own resting just slightly above your hips.

"you're my everything," you respond, the timbre of your voice laced with only devotion.

"And you still love me..." he exhales timidly, not as an inquiry but a general statement. the front of his brows pinch with discomfort but he clears it away with his throat.

you wrap your arms around his neck to mold your body into his frame. chest to chest, heart to heart, limbs intertwined like the roots of your love. you kiss his forehead, the tip of his nose, and the right side of his cheek and your lover closes his eyes with content as he boldly receives your affection.

"suguru," you mumble against his lips, brushing over his mouth to ask for another kiss. he instantly obliges and parts them, because he's the only one who understands the language that your body speaks.

this kiss is warm, and romantic. suguru's tongue a delicate dancer and his soft lips a heavenly gift against yours. a hushed moan leaves him, the water ebbs and flows as he maneuvers himself to slot his leg between yours.

a game of slip and slide.

you squeeze your thighs tightly around his, the roll of your hips makes the heat envelope you, and your mind starts to spin. you release yourself from the kiss, panting slightly against his jawline.

"take me," you beg sweetly, so perfectly that suguru can feel himself twitch. "make love to me"

you gasp when his fingers pinch at your taut nipples, and swallow a cry just when he finds your lips once more.

"say that again..." he murmurs, using his strength to lift you up and align his tip against your entrance.

"m-make love to me..." you whimper as he draws you down his length, stretching you superbly that your eyes roll to the back of your head.

he chuckles with amusement, his face dropping to the side of your neck with his heavy breath fanning over the marks, and sending goosebumps to form all over your upper body.

"again..." he says with conviction, like he can't get enough of those words slipping from your pretty lips. his tongue rolls over the imprints, and he catches a hickey between his teeth and nips you playfully.

"make...love to-ah!" you squeak when he thrusts his hips upwards, squeezing your arms around his neck tightly to hold on. suguru is lost in a trace, his hands gripping your ass as he steadily works you up and down his shaft.

the water pours over the tub in a surge, streams over the ceramic and loudly claps against the bathroom tiles in thunderous drops.

{requests are closed}

[oneforthemunny]

girl i missed you!!!!🥺🥺🥺 so happy your back! i was thinking for your spooky stories, can you do older! eddie x reader take lilah trick or treating. thank you ❤️

a roo and a boo |older!dilf!eddie munson x reader|

prompt: delilah's first halloween (not exactly the trick-or-treat sorry. i started it and ended here with this but still fluffy and sweet and cute!!).

part of my munny's spooky stories series!

contains: literal fluff and cuteness. dad!eddie, mom!reader, age gap relationship. you can read the full older!eddie works here for all the lore and such :)

“Look at her.” You coo, peering over the padded changing table, wrangling Delilah’s tiny arms and long limbs gently into the costume. A random find you had shipped last minute, random and adorable and everything you’d ever wanted for your babies first Halloween. 

“She’s so fuckin’ cute.” Eddie grinned, dimples creasing in the scruff of his beard, at its beginning stages of salt and peppering like the curls that framed his hairline. “How did you find one this small?” 

“I got it off Etsy, so I could put the size in. Pretty handy because everything was too small for her.” You hum, shushing the small whimper that tore from Lilah’s chest. 

Only three months old, still tiny and fresh and new, but bigger than before. Bigger than when you first brought her home, scared out of your own mind that you’d drop her, break her, hurt her. Eddie was always so calm, so good about your fears and helping you- he’d done this before. He knew what it was like to be scared shitless with a baby. 

“How’d you come up with this?” Eddie’s eyes sparkled when they met yours. “Thought you were doing the bat and I was gonna be Ozzy?” 

“She’s too little for the bat costume. The biggest they made wouldn’t fit her, so I figured next year.” You shrugged. “I thought this was cuter.” 

“A kangaroo, hm?” Eddie’s finger brushed over Lilah’s cheek, grinning at the way she turned into his touch. 

“She’s Roo, Eddie, from Winnie the Pooh.” You glare at him playfully, grabbing the blue sweater next to you with the cross stitched letters ‘ROO’ on the front. “And I have some ears and a brown sweater and I’m Kanga. Get it? Because I’m her Mama.” You babble down at the baby, voice lifting in that airy coo of a tone that had Lilah’s lips curling in a gummy smile. 

“Oh,” Eddie nods, helping you maneuver Lilah’s balled fist through the sweater. “Just a you and Lilah costume?” 

“You get to be Ozzy and a bat next year.” You countered lightly, though your stomach flipped in fear. Fuck, maybe the suprise thing was stupid. Maybe you should have included him. “I mean, I can run to Target and try to find a shirt with Winnie on it or-” 

“-I’m just kidding.” Eddie shook his head, a gentle, calming hand rubbing down your spine. “I think it’s adorable. Both of you.” You beam, looking down at your little Roo, the hoodie with tiny ears that poked up. “Besides, I’m more of a Tigger man myself.” 

You snort lightly, rolling your eyes. “You? Thought you’d be more like Rabbit.” 

“Rabbit? No, that’s you, bunny, c’mon.” Eddie grinned, pinching your thigh playfully so you squealed. 

“You better watch it, Munson.” You pointed at him, fixing Lilah’s little sweater in place. “We have to be at my parent’s house in, like, thirty minutes. And they’ll actually care if we’re late now.” 

“Yeah?” Eddie hummed, lifting Lilah carefully into his arms. Her brown eyes blinking back at him, the small furrow of her brows from being disturbed- she looked like Wayne. 

“Yeah.” You nodded, swiping a stack of diapers from under the changing table. “My mom’s already losing it because she can’t wait to see Lilah’s costume. I’m never doing this surprise shit again.” 

“It’s their first grandkid, baby. What did you expect?” Eddie followed you down the hallway towards your shared bedroom. “They’re excited. Brie and Madeline too. It’s her first Halloween.” 

“What time is Brie getting here?” You pulled the brown sweater over your head, folding the slouchy neckline into place. 

“She’s here, I think.” Eddie muttered, eyes squinting, scanning the room undoubtedly for his phone. You bit back a smile. “I told her just to go over to Madeline’s. She’s staying at her apartment anyway tonight since she’s going to Gina’s tomorrow.”

“Oh?” You quip, brows raised in surprise. “They’re talking again?” 

“Yeah,” The sigh Eddie let out was soft, but heavy enough you knew he was… bothered, to say the least. 

Brielle’s silence towards Gina came after her mother’s nasty, cruel words about your pregnancy months ago. Eddie always felt guilty that Brielle was in the middle of the mess that was his relationship with his ex, even if she was the one dragging Brielle into it, weaponizing her even now against Eddie so he’d feel insecure. 

“I don’t… I don’t want to think about that tonight.” Eddie admitted, a soft tone that sounded defeated, hurt, really. 

You nodded, looking at him through the mirror, slipping on your own DIY made Kanga ears on a velvet headband. “I’ll text my mom. Let her know we’re on our way before she shows up and breaks down our door.” You laugh lightly, hand petting over Lilah’s soft cheek, your own lips brushing over Eddie’s for a sweet kiss. 

The drive to your parent’s house was brief, it took longer for you to load up the car. Carriers, diaper bags, extra clothes, strapping in the car seat, everything- it was a chore to pack up a baby to bring, but it was worth it. The look on your mom’s face when you pulled Lilah out of the car, her coos and squeals of excitement. 

“She is adorable. Just precious, oh!” Your mom gushed, ushering her grandchild through the doors, leaving you and Eddie for the rest of the things. “Honey! Look, look at Lilah!” You heard her call, scampering into the house. 

“I think she’s excited.” You roll your eyes playfully, slinging the diaper bag over your shoulder. 

“Yeah,” Eddie smirked. “Can you blame her? She is pretty cute.” 

“She is.” You nod, head leaning against his shoulder while you walked towards the house. Your felt ears hit his chin, tickling the skin there, but he didn’t move. “Is Wayne still coming?” 

“When he gets off.” Eddie nodded, his hand squeezing your waist softly. “He had to work. Likes to work at the plant on Halloween. They always bring the kids to trick-or-treat.” 

“Really? We should bring Lilah next year.” You look up at him. 

“Yeah, he’d love that. Hope he retires this year though.” Eddie rolled his eyes. He’d been trying to convince Wayne he needed to retire for years, but the older man was stubborn. “I used to take Brielle there every year, and she loved it. He did too. He would always save her the best pieces of candy.” 

The warmth in your chest spread to your cheeks, tugging at your lips, curling into a smile. You liked hearing memories like this with Eddie, not ones tainted with Gina’s venomous actions and words. Your fist balled at the thought- no, you wouldn’t say anything. Not when Brielle drove all the way from Indianapolis to be here. Not when everyone was happy. 

The cackle of the girl in question floated through your ears as the two of you climbed the pumpkin lined steps. Your parents and Madeline had insisted on carving them with Lilah, for her first Halloween, they’d said. She hadn’t done much besides being passed from person to person in her little pumpkin onesie while they carved them, but it made your family happy- it made you happy. 

“... This is so cute! Ugh, Maddy, we definitely still had our costumes from junior year. I know mine’s in my closet at my mom’s. We could have been Piglet and Winnie with her.” Brielle nodded, cradling her tiny, baby sister in her arms.

“Yeah,” Madeline looked at you, brows furrowed in annoyance. “Why didn’t you tell us? We would have matched.” 

“I didn’t know.” You huffed, rolling your eyes at your little sister, Eddie shutting the door behind you. “I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

“Well, we could have matched.” Madeline’s lips pursed, only for a moment before she was back to Delilah, cooing at her. “Hold on, Brie, let me get a picture. No, let’s go out by the pumpkins, it'll be so cute!” 

“Hi, Dad.” Brielle muttered, leaning into his hug, still cradling Lilah. 

“Oh! Take my camera, Madeline!” Your mom called frantically, spinning in a half circle looking for her camera. 

“Hey, sweetheart. Your drive ok?” Eddie pressed a kiss to her head, finger tickling down Lilah’s little cheek. 

“Yeah, it was good.” Brielle hummed, following Madeline out the front door. 

“Hi, Mom.” You said, stepping towards her. 

“Hi- oh! That’s so precious, you two match! Where did you find this, honey? It is so cute! It is- hi, Eddie, how are you?- It reminds me of when you dressed up as Tigger one year. Your Dad is looking for the photo album right now, so I can do a side by side.” Your mom rambled, jittery with the excitement of Delilah, the holiday, the side by side post she was already plotting to post on Facebook so all her friends would go ballistic. 

“I gotta see that.” Eddie grinned, hand wrapping around your waist sweetly. 

“Dad is looking through it now- it’s in the second one!” Your mom yelled into the living room, over the re-run of Hocus Pocus playing for the millionth time. “I’m going to go take some pictures with the girls, but there’s chili and hotdogs in the kitchen and- oh, Eddie, I got you Fritos for yours.” 

Eddie blushed, cheeks tingling pink in the warmth of your home. Your mom had remembered from last Halloween, remembered something about him and gotten it for him. It was small, he knew it was, but it made him feel… content? Made him feel like a part of the family. 

Your mom didn’t hear his response, scurrying out to the front porch with her phone to take her own photos. Your eye roll made Eddie grin, pulling you into his side, pressing a kiss against your hairline where your velvet headband met your hair. 

“She’s insane.” You muttered. 

“She’s excited.” Eddie hummed, rubbing a hand down your hip soothingly. 

“She’s lost her mind.” You scoff. “I don’t think she even cares about me anymore. She’s just, like, give me my baby.” 

“Hey, it could be worse. Could want nothing to do with her.” Eddie sighed. He didn’t finish the sentence, didn’t tell you that Gina’s parents had been that way. 

Your heart ached for him, leaning into his chest. “I think they’re going to be busy for a while.” You tilted your head up to look at him. “You hungry?” 

“Starving.” Eddie grinned. “Especially for your Mom’s chili. I’ve been thinking about this all week.” 

“God, don’t tell her that.” You snort, arms still around his torso when you walked into the kitchen. “Her head will explode. She’s already got an ego because she’s a Grammy.” 

“Think you’ve got one too,” Eddie teased, eyes twinkling in the yellow light of the kitchen. You frowned, his hand rubbing over the ears of your headband. “You and Lilah in your matching outfits. ‘S cute.” He beamed, love struck and gooey, the way he would schmooze over you years before. 

You fought back the blush on your cheeks, lips twisting to hide your smile. “Yours is gonna be huge next year, Ozzy.” 

“It’s already huge, sweetheart. You know that.” Eddie purred playfully, squeezing the fat of your ass to make you jump and squeal, eyes cutting around to make sure none of your family was around. “I think it’s cute. Surprised she didn’t steal you for photos.” 

“Don’t give her any ideas.” You huff, pulling a bowl out of the cabinet. “How much do you want?” You ask, reaching for the ladle. 

Eddie shook his head, batting his hands away. “I got it. Got yours too, go sit down.” He nodded towards the table. 

You hesitated, Eddie’s hip bumping yours to move out of the way. “I want mine on-” 

“-chili on the hotdog, cheese on top, and no mustard.” Eddie hummed, spreading the bun to put the chili on. His eyes flicked to yours, smug smile on his face. “Right?” 

You nodded, sinking into the chair by the kitchen table, where you always sat growing up. Eddie smirked. “Told you, I got it. I got you tonight, alright? Take it easy. You don’t have to be Mama Be- Kangaroo tonight.” 

Your eyes roll, huffing lightly when you settle into your seat. Eddie maneuvered the two plates and a bowl with far better ease than you expected. It was nice, sitting in your childhood home with your husband, with your family. 

Your mom came bustling in with the photo of you in hand, a tiny toddler in an old school Tigger costume, face painted to match. Your dad holding Lilah in his recliner, feeding her the bottle you packed, content watching whatever sports he’d managed to flip on before your mom would make him change it back to Halloween movies. Wayne came by after his shift, a handful of candy for Brielle and Madeline, giving them a wink and a, “Told you I’d save you the good stuff. Always save you the good stuff.”  

Eddie beamed, watching it all from his own corner of the kitchen. Your mom and Wayne looking over photo albums, Brielle and Madeline giggling in the corner like they used to when they were younger- when the two of you had just met. You flitting between all of them, content and relaxed, Lilah in your arms. 

Eddie knew that Lilah would be loved. That she’d grow up in a better house than he had, that even Brielle had. In the type of family home he’d always dreamed of having, and now he had it, with you- because of you. 

[atinylittlepain]

I got love in my tummy and a tiny little pain

Vampire Joel 🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️🧛‍♂️

uh, hehe, well, this is 500 words... x2 :))))

got a little carried away, my love

Little Pinch

vamp!joel miller x f!reader

warnings | 18+ DUBCON/NONCON-ish, horror themes, smut-adjacent, dark!joel, if this ain't your thing keep it moving

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“Thank you again for giving me a ride, really, I could’ve just called an Uber.”

“It’s no problem, honey. Sweet thing like you shouldn’t be running around on her own at this time of night anyways. Never know what kinda trouble might be out there.” The slow drawl of his words eases any tension she feels sitting in the complete stranger’s car. Well, not a complete stranger. She knows his name is Joel, and she knows that he saved her from a very insistent frat guy at the bar she was at, offering her a ride after her friends had ditched her. And she knows that he’s distractingly handsome, strong jaw under salt-and-pepper scruff, dark eyes and wavy hair, and a voice that runs straight down her spine, each word syrupy with his southern twang.

“How old are you?” The question leaves her lips before she can really think about it, immediately mortified that she did, though Joel just chuckles, glancing at her before focusing back on the road.

“Old enough to know how to treat a lady right. That boy didn’t hurt you, did he, honey?” A nervous laugh bubbles up from her throat at his words.

“Oh! N-no, he was just getting a little handsy, that’s all. I’m fine, really. Um, Joel? I don’t think we’re going the right way to my apartment.” If he heard what she said, he gives her no sign of it, keeping his eyes on the road, the glare of headlights casting shadows across his face. 

They drive in silence for a bit longer, nerves running cool skitters across her skin, both urging her to bolt and keeping her stuck still and mute in the passenger seat. But she nearly yelps when he suddenly swings a hard turn into what looks like an empty parking lot, what had been a roller rink sitting dark and crumbling in the distance. He puts the car into park with a sigh before resting both his hands back on the steering wheel, knuckles flexing and tensing, still not looking at her.

“J-Joel? Is something wrong?” When he does finally look at her, his head lolling over on his shoulder, something has changed in his face. Where his eyes had been crinkled with a smile, they’re now dark, almost vacant, his cheeks slack and his mouth in a slight frown, lips parted. And though he still doesn’t say anything, she’s seen enough true crime TV to know that she needs to get the hell out of here now. 

“Where you going, honey?” She claws at the lock on the passenger door, but it won’t budge, panic rising cold and clear in her throat.

“I– Joel, please open the door.” “Can’t do that, honey.”

“Please, I want to leave– I-I don’t want you to drive me anymore, please open the door.” She can feel tears starting to slip down her face and his emotionless stare only makes her cry harder, trying to get as far away from him as he leans over the console, crowding her against the door.

“Now why would you wanna do a thing like that? Don’t you know there’s dangerous people out there? So much safer in here with me, honey.” Yeah fucking right. She’s realizing that the worst thing she can do is piss him off, already noting the tick in his jaw and clench of his fist, and she thinks that maybe if she can keep him calm, get his guard down, she can find a moment to snatch his keys and escape. She takes a shuddering inhale, trying to stifle her tears, a thin, fake smile stretching across her lips.

“O-ok, you’re right. T-thank you for keeping me safe.” She can see the clench of his jaw ease slightly and much to her relief, he sits back in his own seat, keeping his eyes on her.

“Why don’t you come over here and thank me, honey?” Her stomach sinks at that, though she tries to tamp it down, knowing that this could be her opportunity to make a grab for the car keys. She nods, trembling fingers undoing her seatbelt. It feels like she’s watching herself from somewhere just over her shoulder as she crawls over the console, trying not to flinch when Joel’s hands wrap around her waist, guiding her to straddle his lap. 

She gasps when he presses her down over the crotch of his jeans, the obvious hardness there making her shudder as he chuckles at her reaction.

“How about a little kiss, honey?” She obliges him before she can think too hard about it, a quick peck before she pulls away. But judging by the laugh he lets out, it isn’t going to be enough for him.

“Oh, c’mon now. You can do better than that. That ain’t how you kiss them college boys, is it?” The idea is already forming in her head, and she tries for a shy giggle, though it comes out a bit breathless. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him in, licking into his mouth, kissing him for all he’s worth as she lets one arm pull away to reach behind them, fumbling blindly for his car keys. 

When she does grab them, she sighs, though Joel takes that as a good sign, only deepening the kiss more. She just needs to wait for a moment that he pulls away, and she knows she can make a run for it. But before that can happen, she feels something sharp slip across her lower lip, blood going metallic in her mouth as she pulls back from him and brings her other hand to her lips. Sure enough, red stains her fingertips.

“What– what was that?” Joel just grins, his other hand reaching around her back to wrench her wrist around, the harsh squeeze of his fingers making her drop the keys into his open palm.

“Sneaky little thing, ain’t ya? That’s alright, honey. I don’t mind a little sour with the sweet.” Her eyes must be playing tricks on her, because if she didn’t know any better she could swear that his pair of canines glint just a bit sharper in the dim light of the moon. She stills in his hold, unsure what to do now, her stomach twisting when he presses a surprisingly sweet kiss to her throat. But when he drags his teeth over the arc of her neck, she finally realizes that her eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on her.

“Hold still for me, honey. Just gonna feel a little pinch, but I think you’ll like it.”