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bunny-lily · 1 month

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Satoru, who...

Did you ask for more fluff? I did, ehe~

Pairing: Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

CW: pure fluff, just fluff, no angst, only happiness | proposal, marriage, pregnancy, husband!Gojo, dad!Gojo, soft!Gojo, categorically fucking whipped Satoru, domesticity, kinda slice-of-life, mildly suggestive at the end

The starstruck boy, Gojo Satoru, who is utterly obsessed with you in every way possible.

AN: while I’m in the middle of writing an absurdly long fic, I wanted to post some shorter stuff to 1) keep my hands loose and brain active/busy, and 2) post something while I’m working on the fic to come. I won’t post much about it rn because I want to actually finish it first and not make any promises, so enjoy a lil fluff in the meantime <3 just something short and sweet

WC: 3k

Satoru, who is smitten with you from the very moment he first lays eyes on you. Sure, he's had infatuations before, but they were short-lived and typically lasted no longer than a week. A quick fascination, then poof. You, on the other hand – you are different.

And it is plain to see for pretty much everyone. He is normally cocky and outgoing, even during the little fads he’s had, he never let down his façade of bravado. You, though? You melt all his walls until he’s a goopy puddle of a blushing, giggling school girl.

He is whipped, almost to an annoying point. He rambles off Suguru's and Shoko's ears enough times for them to know when he’s about to start singing your praises and avoid him, or distract him somehow (which is a monumental task when his ditzy head is full only of thoughts of you).

Even so, they are conflictingly bewildered and happy for their friend. For him to have found someone that he is interested in for longer than a week – let alone several months, now – is a riveting change of pace. He seems so genuinely delighted any time you two interact, bubbly, dreamy sighs leaving him as hearts dance in his eyes.

He has fallen for you bad.

Satoru, who’s a stuttering disaster when he tries to ask you out on a date, and damn near collapses in relief when you’re able to decipher what the hell he’s going on about and agree to go to the new café that opened up near campus with him.

One date turns into two, then three, then a dozen more that become routine for you. You meet up after classes let out, then head to the café side by side. Or, if one is running late, you have each other’s orders memorized. You even go the extra mile and order him a sweet he hasn’t tried yet to surprise him with when he bursts into the establishment, panting like he ran a marathon. He might as well have, he booked it for the café as soon as he was free, dying to see you.

Satoru, who is somehow in even more shambles when he gets the nerve to ask you to go steady with him, despite the two of you being borderline boyfriend and girlfriend by now. He’s jittery, sweaty, downright vibrating with tense energy when he brings you to the sakura tree near the back of school that you two had laid claim on. Oh, and when you say yes? He’s certain he’s died and gone to heaven. Nothing can explain how an angel like you decided to grace him with your existence as is, let alone love him – even while you called him an idiot and said you thought you two were already dating.

Satoru, who was already protective over you when you first met, dials it to eleven after you agree to being his girlfriend. Gojo Satoru, the strongest man alive, could inspire fear and respect simply by being in the room with his confident and brash nature, completely relaxed and faithful in his skill. But if, gods forbid, something happens to you? Gone is that cocksure attitude. Gone are the coy smirks and passive-aggressive taunting meant to rile others up. Gone is everything but his one track mind that focuses solely on two tasks: protecting you, and destroying whatever harmed you.

Satoru, who spoons you to his chest and watches ASMR, random videos, or movies on your phone with you 'til you both fall asleep. It became routine shortly after you began officially dating. You'll climb into bed first and decide what you want to watch while he finishes his nightly regimen, then he'll slip under the blankets and pull your back flush against his front, prop his chin atop your head, slide a thigh between your legs, and off to cozy dreamland you two go as whatever you choose acts as white noise.

It brings him an immense amount of comfort, and though he doesn't need as much sleep as normal folks, he'll refuse to leave bed until you're awake (with the exception of any needs he might have to take care of that will only see him away for a couple minutes at most before he’s cradling you in his protective hold again).

Satoru, who salts and peppers your face with endless, ticklish kisses to wake you up, saving the best kiss for when your sleepy, pretty little eyes open: right on your lips. He always wakes up before you do, and spends hours watching your blissful, precious face as you snooze, content and relaxed like a cat with full trust in its human. The comparison always makes him smile, because he, truthfully, envisions you both as being cats all the time. Lazy ones that cuddle in the sun, your smaller form using his ridiculously fluffy and larger one as a pillow-slash-blanket. His tail twined with yours, your ears twitching as he grooms you with kitten licks, ah, the dream.

Satoru, who wants to slap a ring on your finger the very moment he can. You two spend so many days and weeks raving about your imaginary wedding that he so desperately wants to be real, setting up plans, picking out what you would want for decor, scrolling through forum boards for ideas on a wedding dress for you. He is practically more excited at the prospect of getting married than you are, eager to help in every step of the process and more. 'Let me handle all the hard stuff, baby,' he nearly begs.

He won’t tell you the cost of anything, and insists you go all out. Get the dress you want, don't you dare look at the price tag. Choose the perfect venue, he doesn't care if it's in Japan or fucking Dubai, he'll handle paying for everyone's travel and hotel needs on top of the whole wedding. Only the absolute best for you, nothing less, everything more.

Satoru, who is a train wreck of nervous excitement, anxious anticipation, and giddy trepidation when the day comes for him to propose. He takes you to the perfect location – up a short and easy hiking trail that leads to a cliffside with the most magnificent view of the ocean and setting sun. You think it's just a sweet date trip, until you see the path of tea candles guiding you to a romantically set up picnic blanket, a basket resting atop it, waiting to be opened.

When you turn around to express your shock and confusion, you find Satoru on one knee, looking up at you as if you are the most gorgeous and divine creature to ever exist. He's confident and boisterous, as always, as he plays out his little speech about how much he adores you and wants to keep you by his side, forever and ever, but he's a shaking trash fire inside. A shivering little dog that's relieved he didn't stutter or screw up the speech he practiced a hundred times over and then some.

Satoru, who's thanking every god to ever possibly reside above (and even below) when you throw your arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder as a flood of yeses pours out of you, slurred as you ramble through your tears and tell him you love him, how happy you are, and a plethora of other things that make him genuinely the most elated person to ever live.

Satoru, who slides the brilliant engagement ring he had custom made for you onto your finger; smooth, with an inset blue diamond that shares the same shade as his eyes, nestled in with a dozen tinier crystals in vine-like spirals flowing outward from the center. Swarovski, of course. He made sure that it was all flush with the platinum to ensure it wouldn't snag on anything.

He was practically breathing down the jeweler's neck during the entire process, needing to guarantee it’s positively perfect for you. And, when he sees the glimmering jewelry cozy on your finger, the evidence of your bond and the next step in your journey to unite as one, he knows he made all the right choices.

Satoru, who only uses the finest material for your matching wedding bands, and has the insides of both engraved with each other's names. Yours in his, his in yours. He has the same jeweler as before (poor guy) design them to have two stripes of platinum within the gold of your rings, delicate and stunning for himself and his wife.

Satoru, who's jubilant and so incredibly ecstatic that you're now his wife that he can't help but tell everyone he knows, everyday, multiple times a day, even those that were at the wedding. He just can't get over it. You're his wife, the girl he's been crushing on since highschool, the girl he swore to make his, and to devote himself to. It feels like an incredible dream, and he worriedly pinches himself from time to time to make sure it's real.

He did it. He married you, and now you carry his name in yours, in your wedding band, everywhere he could put it to subtly (not really) show you off as the unquestionably precious treasure you are, his wife, and how overjoyed he is that he managed to catch you and keep you.

Satoru, who forgets how to function when you hold up a pair of white and pink sticks on his birthday, from different brands, both showing positive symbols. You. You're pregnant. With his baby. He swears his brain short-circuits because one minute, he's staring at you like you'd grown a second head, and the next, he has you wrapped up in his arms as he showers your forehead, cheeks, nose, jaw, lips, neck, ears, anywhere he can reach, with kisses.

He's a babbling, sniffly mess as he practically crushes you to his chest and coos and preens and weeps with elation. He reveres you like a deity and he’s your loyal and pathetic servant who was blessed beyond measure that you decided to give him the gift of life. He's going to be a father, and it's all because of you.

Satoru, who completely spoils the living hell out of you during your pregnancy (as if he hadn't already been), bending backwards for you for everything. Weird cravings? He's on it. Swollen ankles and nausea? He's rushing to the store for medicine, then rubbing your feet to ease the ache. Insatiable horniness? He's your slave for you to use for your pleasure. Hormones swinging wildly back and forth? He's there with a box of tissues and his firm chest for you to beat on when you feel like you're going crazy. It's his fault you're pregnant, after all. You're doing the hard work of not just carrying his child, but of nurturing it, growing it, letting it take from you to develop strong and healthy. Of course he's going to take care of you.

Satoru, who refuses to let you do any work. You're on indefinite parental leave. From the moment you show him those positive tests, he sits your pretty ass down on the couch and tells you firmly that your only job now is to help your baby develop. He'll take care of everything else, don't even think about lifting a finger.

Satoru, who's there at every appointment with you, clutching your hand tightly as you talk to your doctor about everything you need to know. And when you have your first ultrasound, and see your fetus together for the very first time, he's crying right alongside you.

Satoru, who spent meticulous hours packing a duffel bag with everything you'll both need for when it comes time for you to go into labor. Spare changes of clothes, plenty of water, blankets to keep you warm, a couple pillows, anything and everything. He refuses to go in unprepared. As soon as it's all packed and ready to go by the 8 month mark of your pregnancy, it's in the backseat of the car. The baby car seat is in the trunk of the sleek and top-of-the-line SUV he purchased specifically for your soon-to-be family. He doesn't care that it's taking up space, or that it’s too early, he refuses to go in unprepared.

Satoru, who immediately ditches work the very instant your water breaks. Who gives a fuck if he's in the middle of something important, nothing takes precedence over you and the incoming birth of your infant. He's breaking several driving laws to get you to the hospital, but neither of you care. Not when you're panting in the passenger seat, white-knuckling the grab handle with a palm pressed to your stomach, grunting and crying out in pain any time you have a contraction. It's a miracle he doesn't get pulled over, and he's incredibly thankful (and proud of himself) for thinking of calling the hospital ahead of time so that they're ready for you.

Satoru, whose entire world becomes a blur from the second you reach the hospital, to the second you're crushing his hand in your grip, screaming as you fight to bring his baby into the world. He's letting you yell at him and blame him for the pain you're in, easily accepting and agreeing because it is his fault.

But while your shaking sobs and shrieks of agony wound his heart beyond any possible measure, he also can't help his elation at knowing it's time, all the waiting has been worth it, every minute spent catering to your every need, want, and desire. He'll do it indefinitely, wait on you hand and foot for the rest of his life, treat you like a queen, because you deserve it and so much more.

Satoru, who's shocked by how well he's holding up when the nurse puts the wrapped up, pudgy little newborn in his arms, gazing down at the tiny being. His tiny being, your tiny being, the fragile and priceless life you both created. Looking down at his kin, his reason for being, he knows he'd do anything and everything to protect you and your child.

Satoru, who sees you, a disheveled and tired disaster, with your hair all tangled, frizzy, and astray, strands stuck to your sweaty skin, your body slack in relief as the hardest part is finally over, watching your husband hold your baby, and he thinks you're more beautiful now than you've ever been.

You look like you’ve been dragged through hell; your legs are sticky with residue blood, amniotic fluid, placenta, and whatever else that needs to be cleaned off (though your legs are covered with a few layers of blankets to keep you toasty warm while you recover from labor), your face is a little pale and sallow, you're barely clinging to consciousness, and he's marveling at how he's never seen anything or anyone as utterly blest and sacred as you.

A goddess amongst men, the only one the strongest man in the world would ever willingly bow down to without you even needing to ask.

Satoru, who helps place your baby on your chest, the nurse having opened the blanket for skin-to-skin contact as you feed it, and finally lets himself release all his pent up emotions of raw, unfiltered joy. Every cell, every fiber, every atom in him is dancing in overwhelming happiness. He'd do it all over, again and again, as many times as you'd let him, if it means he gets to see you this blissful and tranquil. The glow of maternity suits you like no other, even in all your unkempt and chaotic glory.

Satoru, who can't believe he's a dad. He goes above and beyond, insisting he takes care of the baby at night so you can sleep – he doesn't need as much rest as others do, after all. He murmurs to his newborn about how much he cherishes and adores you, how much you mean to him, how you're the best wife and mommy a man could ever ask for and more. He reads the kiddo bedtime stories to help it sleep, feeds it, changes it, whatever it is that is needed, he's there and doing it.

On top of that, he continues to be your doting, devoted, caring husband. He makes sure you're taking your vitamins, takes you to all your postpartum appointments, aids you through your subsequent depression, all of it. He's sworn himself to you for life, not just in this timeline and universe, but in any and every single one of them.

He made and said his vows with purpose and conviction. He meant every word, and upholds them like his life depends on it. Because, in his mind, it does.

Satoru, who is patient with you, and firmly commands you to not push yourself to do things you can't do while you're still in recovery. He doesn't care if he has to wait months or even years for you to be ready to lay with him again, he'll wait it out. He might not be a patient man, but for you, he'd wait until all the stars die.

Oh, but you, darling little minx that you are, do your best to take care of him, too. Even when he urges you to rest, or not worry about it, or anything other arguments he might have against it, you tend to him in whatever way you can. Touching, sucking, rough and heavy petting, whatever it takes. You refuse to leave him alone to suffer through months and months of dryness with no relief save for his hand and the toy you surprised him with to help take the edge off.

Satoru, who can't be more grateful to you. You're more than his wildest dreams, the perfect wife, the perfect mother, the perfect person as a whole in the entirety of the universe. He really can't help boasting about being the Chosen One, because he really is, if the cosmos decided to gift him with you.

Satoru, who swears to take care of you for the rest of your lives, and does well on his promise.

Satoru, who fights for the sake of you and your kin alone. He refuses to leave you in any way, shape, or form. He refuses to let the world be a danger to any of you. He refuses to have anything happen to his family. Nothing will tear you apart, not now, not ever.

Satoru, who loves you more than the sun, the moon, and all the stars combined.

—-—-•(-•ʚɞ•-)•—-—-

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#gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #fluff #chimera-writes #dad!gojo #husband!gojo

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violentdelightsandviolentends · 4 months

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Cherry Wine. aka - Cherry, Part Two.

everything feels like love when you're drunk... right?

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. characters who wouldn't even recognise their own feelings if they smacked them in the face.

word count - 3k

author's note - I love it when people walk each other home... if you couldn't tell. I think some of our most honest conversations happen on the street at 3am. thank you so much for all the love on Cherry!! I hope you enjoy this part two. friends to lovers might just be my favourite trope ever. it gets me everytime :(.

as always, if you enjoyed, please reblog!! reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics <3. thanks, angels.

part one. part three. series masterlist. masterlist. inbox.

His eyes are glued to you.

They have been since he watched you pour just a little too much cherry vodka into your red plastic cup.

He keeps trying to catch your gaze across the smoky room, multicoloured lights clouding his vision. There's some sort of punk song playing through a stereo system somewhere, the beat of the guitar thumping through the wooden floorboards and into Steve's bones.

You're laughing, head thrown back at something Eddie has said. He's funny, Steve thinks. But not that funny. He watches carefully, refraining from intervening right up until the moment you almost trip over your own foot and into the curly haired boy. Steve's moving across the room before he can even process it.

"Cherry," he teases, hand snaking around your waist to hold you upright. "You okay?"

You turn in his hold to throw your arms around his neck, looking up at him with big doe eyes.

"Stevie."

You say his name so sweet that he stumbles and almost takes you down with him.

"You okay?" you giggle.

"I'm good. You good?"

"I'm good."

You sway with him for a second, closing your eyes and revelling in the warmth of his hands on the bare skin of your waist.

"You're a little tipsy, huh?"

"Just a little."

"You wanna go home?"

You chew on your lip for a moment, weighing up your options.

"Can we go to your place? I don't wanna face my parents like this."

Steve leans in to press a kiss to your forehead, brushing the hair back from your face.

"Of course. Let's go, hm?"

"Let me grab my jacket. I'll meet you by the door."

You slink off upstairs, leaving Steve alone with Eddie.

"Just friends," Eddie mocks under his breath quietly.

"What?"

"Nothin'."

Steve stares at his friend with a brow quirked, stormy look on his face.

"All I'm sayin' is - I don't look at my best friend like that. Don't hold 'em like you just did. Don't have sleepovers either."

"I've known her since we were kids. It's different."

"I've got friends I've known since kindergarten. I don't kiss them on the forehead."

"I wouldn't put it past you," Steve mumbles, finished with the conversation. "Whatever, man. You don't get it."

"Oh, I get it. You're in love. Steve and Cherry, sitting in a tree-"

"Don't call her that."

"See? You're defensive over her nickname, because you gave it to her. Don't be an idiot, Steve. Life's too short."

"Yours will be, if you don't shut up."

Eddie takes that as his cue, shaking his head as he leaves to go and complain about the music choice.

Steve meets you outside, chuckling when he sees you shivering as you hold your jacket.

"Cherry, put your coat on. You're freezing."

You look up at him, slightly bewildered, and he fights to keep the smile off his face. Taking it from your hands, Steve slips the jacket around your shoulders, hands skimming up your arms to warm you.

"Better?"

"Better."

You slip your hand into his and begin to walk away from the noise, finally taking a deep breath when you're down the street.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you reply, nudging him with your shoulder. "Feet hurt though. Fuckin' shoes."

You both stop, Steve kneeling down in front of you to unbuckle your heels. You look at him questioningly and he winks, cheeky and full of love.

He slips them off your feet and sits down on the curb, taking his sneakers off and gesturing for you to step into them.

"No, Steve. I chose to wear these, it's my own fault."

"I know, and they looked cute. But now you're going to wear these."

You step into the shoes reluctantly, holding back tears when he kneels and ties your laces tightly. Rising to his feet, he presses a kiss to your forehead before intertwining your fingers again, picking up your heels with his other hand.

You're both quiet, as you walk. Neither of you needs to say anything. It's always been this way. Steve's not good with silence usually, but with you, it's more than comfortable. Sometimes, you'll sit for hours in his bedroom doing your own things, content to just know the other person is there.

"Minnie Lawson kept asking about you tonight."

You try to keep the disdain from your voice as best you can, praying Steve doesn't pick up on it.

He does. He doesn't mention it.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah."

You keep walking, smiling occasionally when you catch sight of Steve's socked feet next to yours.

"What did she say?"

You mentally kick yourself for bringing it up, but take a deep breath and tell him anyway.

"Kept asking if you were single."

"And what did you say?"

"Told her she needed to ask you herself and that I'm not your secretary."

Steve cackles at this, loud and endearing. The sound makes you grin, whether you want to or not.

"Shit, Cherry baby. What did the girl ever do to you?"

"I didn't mind when she asked the first couple times, but the more she drank, the more she forgot. She couldn't remember if she'd already asked so kept asking again."

He laughs again, squeezing your hand where it still holds his tightly.

"She didn't talk to me."

"Didn't think she would."

He looks at you for a moment too long, your eyes meeting the floor to avoid his gaze.

"Mikey was asking about you tonight, you know."

You'd had a crush on Mikey in ninth grade, the summer after he'd gotten tall and started to look less like four walking limbs and more like a man. He was a nice guy, if not a little boisterous sometimes.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Said you looked pretty. Wanted to know if you were still with the Douchebag."

You chuckle at the hatred in Steve's voice at the mention of your ex boyfriend.

"And you said..."

"That he was in the wind, thankfully."

"Dodged a bullet with that one."

You lean into his arm, savouring the warmth of his skin you can feel through your jacket and his long sleeve shirt.

"Mikey wants to ask you out."

"Really?"

"Yeah, really. Is that so hard to believe? You're a catch, you know."

"I don't know. Boys like Mikey never look at me, usually."

"I look at you."

Your breath hitches in your chest. It's like your heart has forgotten how to beat.

"Yeah," you whisper. "But you're Steve."

After a moment, you add,

"My Steve."

You rest your head onto his bicep, still clutching his hand. He leans down to press a kiss into your hair, resting his cheek there for a moment.

"You're worlds apart from boys like Mikey, Steve. He's nice, but he's not you."

You're not sure where all this sudden truth is coming from, but you're wondering if the cherry vodka has maybe hit you a little harder than you first thought.

"And you and Minnie Lawson aren't even in the same league. You've got nothing to worry about."

You both process Steve's words, before he starts stuttering.

"I mean, not that you, not that - it's not like you were worried, I'm sure. I bet you weren't. I just mean... you know what I mean, right?

Thankfully, you do.

"I know what you mean. I always do."

He stops walking, turning to face you on the sidewalk, hand never dropping yours. You're not sure where you are, but you know Steve knows. He'll keep you safe. Always.

"Okay," he breathes.

"Okay," you breathe.

"I love you," he breathes.

"I love you," you breathe.

"I don't want you to date Mikey Carter," he breathes.

"I don't want you to date Minnie Lawson," you breathe.

You both inhale deeply, following the other person's lead.

"I can't stop thinking about the other night," Steve whispers, so quietly you'd have missed if it you weren't so in tune with him.

Your lungs constrict for a second, all the air leaving you at once.

"Me neither."

You're stood in the street whispering to each other, frightened you'll burst the bubble you've accidentally created.

"I feel bad," you confess.

"Why, honey?"

"Because I... I didn't return the favour. I just let you get into bed and fall asleep. Sorry."

Steve's hands come up to cradle your face, eyes searching yours as if he's reading his favourite book.

"I didn't want you to. I told you, it wasn't about me, it was about you. I didn't... I didn't initiate it so I could get something in return."

"Sorry."

"Stop apologising, Cherry. You've got nothing to apologise for."

"Sorry," you reply without thinking, causing both of you to double over into fits of laughter.

Steve wipes the happy tears from your cheeks, gaze never leaving yours. You look at each other for a moment, feeling the atmosphere shift. The world could collapse around you both, and neither of you would notice. It's just you and Steve. Nothing more, nothing less.

He leans in gently, pressing his lips to yours in a featherlight kiss. He tastes like beer and spearmint.

"You're wearing your lipbalm."

"You've been chewing your gum."

He chuckles, kissing you again softly.

"You wanna go home?"

"Please. You're in your socks, and I look like a clown."

He looks at your feet and laughs, the sound much too loud for the early hours of a Sunday morning.

"Let's go, Cherry baby. My warm bed awaits us."

The stars guide you home hand in hand, Steve stealing the occasional kiss when you happen to be looking in his direction. You kick off his shoes by the door, running straight up the stairs to change out of your uncomfortable dress. Steve stops by the kitchen to grab you both a glass of water, bounding up after you and spilling half the liquid in the process.

He stops in the doorway when he reaches his room, breath caught in his throat. You're stood in just your panties, bare back to him, rifling through his drawers to find the soft grey shirt you always steal.

It's a sight he's seen before. Something is different this time.

"Where is it?" you ask, not turning around.

You know he's there. You know he knows what you're looking for.

This is what love is, he thinks suddenly. The knowing. The unknowing. The knowing that the other person knows. The other person knowing that you know. Unspoken knowledge.

"Bottom drawer, left," he chokes out. "Washed it."

You slip it on and turn around, pouting. The boy quirks a brow at you in question.

"Doesn't smell like you. Smells like your detergent, but not you. Will you wear it, when I leave?"

"Yeah," he chuckles, fighting the blush from rising across his chest. "Anything you want, baby."

Steve shrugs off his clothes, slipping on a fresh pair of boxers before sliding into his side of the bed. You're in the bathroom, humming a tune that he can't quite place but knows he heard tonight. He watches you through the open door as you sway gently, ready to jump up and catch you if need be. You pee with the door still open, and Steve chuckles. It's like you've been married for twenty years.

"Can you please turn the fan on? I'm hot."

"Anything for you, Cherry Pie."

You jump into your side of the bed, sitting up to face the boy next to you. It might be 3am, but you're both wide awake, veins buzzing with endless possibility.

"I've been thinking," you murmur quietly.

"Never a good sign."

"Shut up."

You both laugh, and you can't help but grin. What a miracle, you think. To be alive at the same time as a boy like Steve Harrington. To know him. To love him.

"Will you let me return the favour?"

It's a vague question, but Steve knows exactly what you're asking. He chokes on his breath, tilting his head to look at you.

"Babe, you don't have to-"

"-I want to. So badly."

Steve inhales deeply, willing himself to calm down.

"I don't have to, if you don't want me to. But I can't stop thinking about the way you'd taste."

The boy thinks he's died and gone to heaven. Dreaming, maybe.

"Honey... fuck."

Steve nods, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Please. Jesus."

He's breathing so frantically, you're worried he might pass out. The last thing you need is your best friend unconscious.

"Breathe, Stevie. It's just me and you."

"Me and you."

"Always."

He comes back down to Earth, so you lean in to kiss him, all tender and cherry flavoured. Tangling your fingers into his hair, you push him backwards so he's leaning against the headboard. You straddle his hips, plush lips pressing into his neck, his chest, his collarbones. Steve's practically melting, a puddle of love and affection beneath you.

"Let me take care of you," you whisper into his ear, and who is he to deny you when you ask so sweet?

You crawl down his body until you're situated between his legs, thick thighs bracketing you in. You kiss along the inside of the muscle, nipping as you go and revelling in the way he jumps and hisses. It's nice to be the one in charge for once.

You scratch your nails along the bulge in his boxers, smirking when his hips buck up into you. You think, for a moment, that you'd happily lie here and tease him like this for hours, just to see when he'd snap. But this isn't the time for games, so you store that thought for another day.

"This still okay?"

"More than okay," he replies, all breathy and ungrounded. You link your fingers with his and squeeze, and all his nerves melt away.

You don't let yourself begin to think about why he's nervous. You know Steve's a ladies man, you know he's done this many times... so why is it different with you? You wonder if maybe you should talk about it afterwards. You're not sure if either of you are ready for that.

Mouthing at him over his underwear, you hum in contentment at his warmth. He's always run hot, every part of him. It's one of your favourite things.

You hook your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and tug them down, throwing them onto the floor somewhere. The room is dimly lit by the lamp on the nightstand, the lightbulb casting shadows across Steve's slightly sweat damp skin. The fan acts as a soundtrack, white noise breaking up the silence.

You look at him and bite your lip, buzzing with anticipation. It's not like you haven't seen each other naked before, but it's different like this.

"Just... tell me what you like or what you don't like as I go along, okay?"

Steve smiles in adoration, running his thumb over your cheekbone gently.

"Okay."

You wrap your hand around him and curl your wrist, holding back a smirk when the boy whines. It's a pretty sound. You'd like to hear it again and again until he loses his voice.

Leaning in, you lick up the length of him, groaning at the salty musk. His taste, his scent, his sounds... it's all so Steve. He's the centre of your universe, everything around you just Steve Steve Steve.

Taking him fully into your mouth, a hand flies into your hair, tangling his fingers. He doesn't move you, just tethers himself to something real, something grounding. You take him as much as you can, working up a rhythm between your tongue and your hand. Steve's breathing as if he's just ran a marathon, chest heaving and lungs burning.

He finds his voice, suddenly.

"Oh fuck, baby."

"Shit, Cherry. Fuck, just like that."

"That's it, atta girl. Perfect girl. My girl."

"Oh, you're so good. So fucking good."

He tenses, fingers tightening in your hair once again.

"So close, baby. Don't stop. Please."

You double down on your efforts, twisting your wrist in that way you've figured out he likes as you hollow your cheeks and suck. The boy sees stars, vision going white.

The noise he lets out as he finishes will be forever engrained in your mind, a never ending symphony that no orchestra could ever recreate.

He goes lax, collapsing back against the bed as you swallow, never breaking eye contact. You stick your tongue out as proof and he groans, deep and gutteral.

"Kiss me," he chokes, too blissed out to move.

You crawl up his body and press your lips to his, squeaking in surprise when he slips his tongue into your mouth to taste himself.

"Filthy," you laugh, resting your forehead against his.

"You love it."

You shake your head, but can't wipe the grin from your face.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

After a second, you giggle.

"What's funny?"

"I'd like to see Minnie Lawson do that."

Steve laughs, loud and melodic in the low light of the room.

"She's got nothing on you, Cherry baby. No one does."

You process the words, heart stuttering in your chest.

"We should talk about this," you whisper.

"We will," he assures, tugging you into him so your head is resting on his chest. "Tomorrow."

Lines have been crossed, lives have been changed, but the stars above your heads remain the same. They'll always guide you back to Steve.

The lamp flickers, the fan hums, the crickets sing their night time lullabies.

The boy leans down to press his lips to yours. He tastes like cherries and every kiss for the rest of your life.

@allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @enigmaticloki

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x reader fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x bestfriend reader #steve harrington x bestfriend!reader #bestfriend!steve harrington x reader #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things fluff

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swamp-king1827 · 2 years

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At this point I’ve just accepted that I have no idea how much money I’m getting back in refunds

#i SHOULD be getting back like 7kish because I fucked up my loans lol #I’ll have to pay back like 3k when I get it #but there’s also only 2k in my student credit account #so like.#and this is after my advisor fixes things #i am simply confused and lost and bewildered

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esouliie · 3 months

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– TEARS ON THE GRAND PIANO

– pairing: wanda maximoff x fem!reader (MINI SERIES)

– synopsis: moving on from the only person you’ve ever loved is proving to be hard… so hard that hiring an escort seems to be the only way forward.

– warnings: poor dialogue lmao but my excuse is that it was written a while ago, offensive language, word count: 3K

– Prologue | Chapter 1

13TH NOVEMBER 2022

You were pretty sure your face was melting off with the way your cheeks burned against your hands. Your jaw ached tremendously from clenching, each muscle protesting against the pressure of the emotions welling up inside you.

The room felt like a pressure cooker, and the silence was the ever-tightening lid that threatened to explode at any moment.

The weight of awaiting unspoken words hung in the air, creating a palpable discomfort that gnawed at the edges of your consciousness. Seconds stretched into minutes, each passing moment intensifying the unease.

Your mind raced, replaying the events that led to this standoff… of sorts.

Joining the Avengers four years ago wasn't anything you would’ve expected for yourself. Raised as a normal teenage girl in a quiet suburban household, with a normal life planned ahead of you, you never imagined that your destiny would lead you to the extraordinary world of superheroes.

Tony Stark, the genius behind the Iron Man suit, approached you with an offer that would change your life forever. He explained that the world needed new heroes, and your unique abilities were the missing piece they had been searching for. After some hesitation and contemplation, you decided to accept the invitation to join the team.

And here you are - now a grown woman - sitting across from the same Tony Stark. His jaw was slack, eyes wide to an almost inhuman degree. For a man who had faced gods, aliens, and powerful foes, the revelation seemed to have caught even the Iron Man off guard.

To put it shortly, he was stunned. Such an uncharacteristic reaction from the philanthropist.

“What did you just say?” He finally managed to answer.

This was supposed to be easy; simple enough to not stress you even more, but you should've known that nothing comes easy with this man.

“I think you heard me, Tony.”

“Yeah, but I never thought I’d hear that… come out of your mouth.” He slaps his hand against the chair excitedly. He was both amused and bewildered by the unexpected turn of events.

“I mean, everyone thought you were a virgin, with the lack of relationships over the years, but I guess not, huh?”

His laughter irritated you no doubt.

Despite being twenty-three years old, your teammates, in their misguided assumptions, were certain you were a virgin. It was a label that stuck, fuelled by your shyness about your personal life. No one ever dared to inquire about your relationship status, but subtle concerns were shared between them, creating an unspoken curiosity.

In reality, your heart harboured a secret love for someone you couldn't have – a person who existed in the realms of impossibility. It was a love that had silently grown over the years, nurtured in the shadows of silent words and unfulfilled desires.

“So, you want me to set you up with an escort?” He asks, humour still evident in his voice.

You nod, a mix of embarrassment and anticipation washing over you. Your eyes briefly met his before retreating to your fidgeting hands, the room still echoing with his laughter.

“That’s fine. But first, I need you to answer some questions.” Tony continues, his tone shifting to a more serious note.

Confusion creeps across your face as you tilt your head, thrown off course by his unexpected shift in seriousness.

“First of all, why?” He inquires, leaning back in his chair and studying your reaction.

You hesitate for a moment, contemplating how much you should reveal. "It's complicated. There was someone… but the feelings weren’t mutual, and it’s time to move on. I thought this might be a way to help me do that."

Tony raises an eyebrow, intrigued. "Feelings, huh? Well, I'm all ears. Spill the beans. Who's the lucky guy?"

You sigh again, knowing that this part might complicate things. “It’s not something … I just don’t think-,” You don’t want to tell him, it feels all too frightening, “I can’t say.”

He hums lowly, observing your obviously nervous state.

“Okay. What’s your preference?”

Your confusion grows.

He sighs, “Male or female?”

He asks so simply whereas you’re caught off guard.

Your ears burn in embarrassment as the implication dawns on you. You knew this would have to be spoken about at some point, you just didn’t expect it to be so soon.

“Uh, I t-think, female.”

Tony can't help but wear a sly grin. “So not a virgin and not into dudes. No wonder you shot Sam down.”

The mention of Sam makes you cringe, recalling your first encounter with the man who couldn’t take a hint that you were definitely not interested.

You attempt to regain your composure before warning Tony to be serious, but he interrupts your process, seemingly already moved on from your revelation.

“Anyways, what else?”

Again, you’re stumbling over how to answer but he saves you this time, deciding to lighten up on the teasing.

“I’m talking physically. What would you want her to look like? Tall, short, blonde, brunette, redhead?” His hands move drastically as if sculpting an imaginary figure in the air.

You raised an eyebrow, unsure if he was serious. "Does it matter?"

“Well, yeah, escorts are usually pricey, especially the ones I use to hire so… you might as well fuck someone you’re actually attracted to.”

He was right. It would cost a fortune for a high-end escort. Given your public image and the constant scrutiny you faced, you realise that anyone you brought into your private space would need to be discreet and accustomed to the world of celebrities. There would be NDAs to sign, and security measures to consider, and the whole process seemed more complex than you had initially thought.

“Assuming you want an escort for that?”

His words interrupt your thinking. He had a knack for understanding things without needing them explicitly stated. It was both a blessing and a curse. The fact that he guessed your intention to hire an escort without you saying it out loud was both impressive and mildly embarrassing.

Your blush deepens.

“I’d prefer her to be taller than me, brunette, green eyes.”

His grin slips slightly, realisation sinking in. Your preference seemed to match the appearance of a certain witch.

“Simple enough.”

“And also, old- actually, she can be my age, but I’d prefer an older woman.” You add, unknowingly unravelling another layer of mystery to your request.

Tony hums.

“Preferably not American, maybe like European, or…”

It couldn’t get any better for the man. The quick panic in your eyes, let alone the twitch in your lip, helped finalise his theory.

But ever the optimistic, there’s no way he’d caught that slip.

There are a lot of tall, brunette Europeans in America.

Surely.

He rests his head in his hand, feigning false nonchalance, “Sounds familiar.”

Oh.

Wanda Maximoff arrived in America with a heavy heart and a troubled past. The scars of Sokovia and the loss of her brother, Pietro, weighed on her soul, but she was determined to forge a new life. She was haunted by the memories of experimentation and the pain that had been inflicted upon her throughout her life. The scars, both physical and emotional, served as a constant reminder of the darkness she had endured. Yet, as she stepped onto American soil, she felt a glimmer of hope.

Hope for a new life.

Almost every day, she participated in training sessions to harness and control her formidable powers. Vision, an android and fellow Avenger, became her mentor and confidant. Together, they worked tirelessly to channel her abilities, turning the chaos into controlled strength.

Her dark eyeliner that used to coat her waterline thinned with each passing day. Her green eyes, now a striking contrast against her porcelain skin, began to reflect not only her pain but also the resilience that lay within. Her long, brunette locks remained a constant, gracefully cascading down her back.

The Sokovian Accords had torn her away from your life, but Steve Rogers, the man with an unyielding sense of justice, had set her free. She had been detained, left to rot in chains and a power-disabling device. But now, she lived in the shadows, on the run from those who sought to control her immense power.

The next time you saw her was on the battlefield in Wakanda. The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the Wakandan landscape, and you found yourself standing amidst the chaos of the battlefield. The air was charged with tension, tangible electricity that mirrored the clash between the forces before you. Amid the chaos, you caught a glimpse of a familiar figure, moving with purpose and grace.

Wanda. The woman you once knew as a fiery teenager, full of anger and confusion, had transformed into someone entirely new. Her crimson hair, cut to a length that framed her face, caught the fading sunlight as she weaved through the battlefield.

The old Wanda you knew was gone and yet she was still as beautiful. Still the same Wanda you were in love with.

Even so, she was your best friend.

The age difference never seemed to matter; you clicked in a way that transcended space and time. To you, her friendship was everything. And yet, as life unfolded, so did the unexpected twist of emotions that left you utterly devoted to her.

But your love was unrequited. She fell for Vision. The robot born from the mind stone, the same stone that granted Wanda her powers. They clicked instantly.

Unrequited love can be a heavy burden, and you carried it silently, painfully. From a distance, you observed the deep connection between Wanda and Vision strum stronger. Your heart ached, knowing that you never stood a chance against the android who had become the love of her life.

Her space and time.

And then came Westview. It hit you like a tidal wave of sorrow. Wanda, now known as The Scarlet Witch, had created an alternate reality in an attempt to find solace, to build a life where she could have everything she ever wanted. It was a bittersweet revelation - she had her family, but it was a fragile illusion. Life had decided to take everything good from this woman and that included her husband and twin boys.

Learning about their fates left you shattered. It had been a while since you cried over Wanda. You felt so much for the witch. To you, she deserved the universe but for all the time you knew her, she had only experienced pain.

It was a heartbreaking paradox - the one who could rewrite reality couldn't escape her own suffering.

Tony moves closer to you, breaking you out of your trance.

“You could always look for her.” His hand hovers over yours, unsure.

“No, I couldn’t,” You whisper gently, afraid your voice will betray you, “I don’t want to.”

He doesn’t say anything as he moves back to his original position, battling with himself whether to accept your defeat or encourage you to fight for love.

“Okay. I'll look into it.” He answers shortly.

“Thank you, Tony.”

You really do appreciate his help. He has always been there for you, a fun yet steady presence in your life. He had guided you through tough times in your career and offered a shoulder to cry on when needed. In many ways, he was more than just a friend – he was like an older brother.

“It won’t take long for me to find your woman. So make sure you’re ready for the best night of your life.” He concludes by flicking his tongue grossly between his pointer and middle finger.

But he’ll always be a pig.

15TH DECEMBER 2022

A few weeks later, you found yourself in the penthouse suite of one of Tony’s infamous drunk hotel purchases- The Ritz. He had managed to find an escort that fit your preferences within the same night, but due to conflicting schedules and multiple anxiety attacks, you pushed the date back as much as you could.

Tony helped you understand all the unspoken rules of high-end escort services. For high-risk clients, such as yourself, it’s imperative that a fake name is given.

Monica Dunn.

Tony said you didn’t look like a Monica but you didn’t care. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t an escort’s job to care what name their clients use.

Afterwards, NDAs are usually signed, despite the use of a false identity, just in case the escort discovered who the clients were, and sold the information to the press.

This has happened before. You giggle, remembering the scandalous article about Tony and his rendezvous with an escort that gladly divulged a particular fetish of his.

Five minutes before the agreed meeting time, the front desk rings, informing you that your guest had checked in and was on her way up.

You pace around the front door, nursing on the almost empty glass of wine. Soft music playing through the TV just outside the large conversation pit, a sunken enclave surrounded by plush, velvety sofas and cushions in hues of deep royal blue and silver. The pit was nestled in the centre of the room, creating a cosy and intimate atmosphere.

Perfect for tonight.

The suite’s architecture was utterly beautiful. The walls were adorned with gilded frames housing masterpieces of renowned artists, and the floors were covered in an expanse of soft, ivory carpet that allowed you to sink your feet into its embrace. A grand chandelier, dripping with crystal prisms, hung majestically above the conversation pit, casting a warm and gentle glow over the entire space.

Residing in front of the large glass windows, a grand piano stood proudly, its polished surface reflecting the glimmering chandelier above. Your eyes were drawn to it, a majestic instrument that seemed to beckon you with its silent invitation. Unable to resist its allure, you gracefully make your way towards it. The rich scent of aged wood and varnish envelopes you. Fingers delicately glide over the smooth keys, feeling the cool touch beneath.

You sit upon the plush bench, posture adjusting with the grace of a seasoned pianist. You begin to play, letting your fingers dance effortlessly across the keys. The room fills with an enchanting melody, each note resonating through the space. Lost in the music, you start to hum along, your voice blending seamlessly with the piano's tune.

The same tune you wrote for Wanda all those years ago. It's been a while since you’ve played this song. You’re not even sure why you’re playing it now.

The keys dip. A sombre note rings true. The music swirls into a reflection of your emotions, a silent expression of the feelings you had kept hidden for so long and how they remained unbound.

“That’s beautiful.” A voice broke through the harmony, pulling you out of your musical reverie.

Startled, you turn to find her standing there, in all her glory.

And time ceases to exist.

She stands tall. The red hair that once defined her is now a rich, deep brown, still its usual thickness and tied into a high ponytail that exudes a casual confidence. Bangs frame her sculpted face as a gloss stains her lips. She looks different. You can't help but marvel at the maturity that now graces her features. There's a certain grace to the lines that weren't there before, a subtle testimony to the experiences that have shaped her.

The room becomes a backdrop to the flood of memories rushing through your mind. The air is thick with festering emotions as you look up at her, trying to process the unexpected reunion. It's been years since you last saw her, and the wounds of her departure still linger.

You don’t say anything but she does. She steps closer, eyes flickering over your stilled hands on the instrument.

She laughs, and familiarity strikes as she recalls the tune you were playing. "Is that the song you were writing that night?"

The question hangs in the air, summoning memories of the last time you shared your dreams and melodies, the things that mean most to you. She was your muse and you had bared your soul to her in your music. And now you’re trapped between the resonating notes of the piano and the echoes of your past.

For a moment, you struggle to maintain composure. Indifference projected as a firm shield, a sort of defence against the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm you.

"It's just a tune." You reply nonchalantly, trying to downplay the significance of the moment.

With that, her gaze intensifies, a shadow of uncertainty rushes across her features.

You can't help but feel a sense of curiosity mixed with a tinge of unease.

All this time that has passed and now she decides to come find you.

You don’t understand why she’s here.

She goes to speak but you interrupt her. “What are you doing here, Wanda?”

She’s lost for words, not even fully sure herself.

“I came to see you.”

Wanda sees the strain on your face. She didn’t have to read your mind to know you were in turmoil. Without much thought, she gently cradles your face in her hands, thumbs tracing delicately over your lips, and you lean into the touch, momentarily forgetting everything that’s occurred over the last few years.

This doesn’t last long. The warmth of her touch turns cold, and you stand up abruptly, the piano bench skirting backwards loudly. Anger simmers beneath the surface.

“Don’t touch me.”

You don’t expect it to hurt as you see the pain your words cause her.

“Seriously, Wanda. Why are you here?” You continue, voice thick with led.

Wanda sighs, unwilling to lie to you anymore. “Tony sent me.”

#my fics! ꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱₊˚⊹#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff #cr:@florietas

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rip-quizilla · 1 month

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The Boy is Mine (Hannah's Edition)

Thank you @carolmunson so much for coming up with this awesome prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

Click here to read the original prompt, here for the masterlist of everyone's different takes on the idea!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Eddie's romantic night with Chrissy doesn't go as planned, so you do what any good neighbor would do and pull him out of his pity party.

Eddie was an idiot.

He had done everything he could think of to make tonight so romantic that Chrissy would finally see him as something more. See that he was worthy of a girl like her. That he could treat her right, the way a gentleman should.

Up until now, their relationship had been casual; nothing was set in stone or exclusive. She was free to go on dates with whomever she wanted, they didn’t talk to each other at school or do boyfriend-girlfriend things. Eddie had been fine with that… until he wasn’t.

He wanted Chrissy to know that he could treat her just as well as her country club boyfriends could. He could be romantic. He was worth more than making out in the back of his van and secret notes stuffed in lockers.

Today was her birthday, so he’d pulled out all the stops- he’d cleaned the trailer, bought her flowers, made pasta with the fancy parmesan on top. He’d even baked her a birthday cake. Sure, it was funfetti cake mix from a box, but it was more work than Eddie usually went through for a cake.

“Make yourself comfortable, food’s almost ready!” he gushed when Chrissy had first entered the trailer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, eyes wide as she looked around the kitchen and living room. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual magazines and ashtray, newly set with old yellowed doilies as placemats and silverware, worn porcelain plates with little powder-blue curly cues along the edges…

“Eddie,” Chrissy had said, bewildered. “What…what is all this?”

He’d barely heard her over the cacophony of sizzles and bubbles that surrounded him in the small galley kitchen. “I hope you like Italian,” he threw a smile over his shoulder as he stirred the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove. “It’s your birthday, I wanted to make you a proper dinner. Even baked you a cake!” Eddie smiled, but then widened his eyes in alarm when he remembered that he’d put the cake in the oven and forgotten to set a timer. How long had it been baking for? Eddie couldn’t remember.

“Shit…” He hissed, yanking open the oven door as angry smoke plumed into the tiny trailer. Eddie waved an oven-mitted hand, frantically trying to clear a path for his vision to see if the cake was at least salvageable… which it wasn’t.

Chrissy sat frozen on the couch, hugging a time-tattered throw pillow to her stomach and toying anxiously with the fringe at its edges as she watched Eddie place a blackened tin of burnt cake on the stovetop. It was like watching a train wreck; Chrissy couldn’t look away, no matter how painful the scene before her got.

“Eddie, it’s okay,” she said, voice overly soft and sweet, as if she were breaking bad news to a volatile toddler. “You don’t have to-”

“Wine!” Eddie interrupted, excitedly (desperately) remembering the wine he’d bought. He’d read somewhere that red wine paired well with spaghetti and meatballs, so he’d run to the nearest gas station he knew never carded and bought the best red wine he could afford- which was the only red wine at the gas station- but he thought the label looked pretty, so it must be good right?

"I ran out of, like, nice cups,” Eddie said, voice strained as he did a little hop to reach the matching plastic steins on the highest shelf. “Is this okay? My uncle used to be into fancy beer that was apparently too classy to drink from a can, so he got these things. Kinda makes you feel like you’re in an old-timey tavern when you drink out of ‘em, though, which is cool-"

“Eddie-”

Chrissy’s voice sounded strained, pitying- Eddie didn’t like that. It wasn’t how he wanted her to feel on her birthday. “I don’t drink wine much, so hopefully I got the right kind! I mean, wine is wine, right? Can’t be that bad-”

“Eddie!”

He froze. He turned to her, bottle in one hand and a stein in the other. His heart thumped out a warning in his chest.

“Eddie… if I gave you any kind of false impression, I’m so sorry-”

Nope. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess! I’m sorry I burned the cake, that was my bad- I forgot to set the timer, and-”

Chrissy winced at the pet name; he’d only used it a couple times before that, so Eddie had assumed she didn’t have a problem with it… liked it, even.

“When you asked me to come over, I didn’t realize it was…” She took a short deep breath, huffing out the exhale. “I didn’t realize you meant it as a date.”

“I know,” he replied. It was immediate, reassuring. “I know this isn’t what I usually do, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve more than… than secret makeouts after cheer practice, and lying in the back of my shitty old van.” Eddie smiled at her, hopeful. “I can do better than that, and I’m trying-”

“I don’t want better than that.”

Eddie stopped, stunned. Chrissy winced again. “That came out… wrong. I… I mean, I do want something like that, maybe someday. But…”

Her words trailed off, lips retreating into each other as she bit them nervously, unsure of how to communicate what she meant.

Eddie knew how though.

“...But you don’t want it with me.”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with guilty regret. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you felt this way-”

“No, don’t worry about it princess.” There was venom in the name now, a bitterness that rivaled the smell of burnt funfetti that still wafted around them. “No harm done. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie-”

“Go home, Chrissy.” He turned his back to her, reaching for the knob on his stove to switch the burners off. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The venom had left his voice; he’d channeled all of it into the word princess, and now all that was left was resignation. It wasn’t her fault for not liking him; he wasn’t even sure he’d ever liked her. He’d just known that if he could get a girl like her to like him, it might mean he was worth a damn.

But she didn’t. So he wasn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Go home. Celebrate your birthday. It’s okay.”

And she did. She got in her car, brows pinched with painful sympathy, and drove back home. The spaghetti got cold and the cake was tossed in the trash, leaving Eddie with far too much pasta for himself, an unopened bottle of red, and a container of vanilla frosting.

And then there was you.

Your trailer sat parallel to the Munsons’, a modest one-person camper on the opposite side of the dirt path the Forest Hills considered a road. You kept a plastic lawn chair and a rainbow beach umbrella in your front “yard” for days when the sun was warm enough to relax outside. Today was one of those evenings where the light was still bright enough for you to see your notebook, perfect for watching the sunset and sketching whatever caught your eye.

Today’s trailer park still-life didn’t disappoint. Your neighbor, Eddie, sat on the concrete stoop eating vanilla frosting- all by itself- with a spoon as he stared dejectedly at the horizon. Sad as the scene before you was, you loved the sketch that was taking form in your small spiral notebook of the forlorn metalhead. As if the picture couldn’t get any sadder, beside him sat an unopened bottle of cheap wine that you had every confidence he planned on drinking without a glass. Sure enough, you watched as your neighbor let out a heavy sigh, put down the frosting, and grabbed the bottle of wine.

He started wrestling with the foil over the top of the bottle, sighing with relief this time when he finally removed the foil but groaning to himself when he saw the cork in the top. You couldn’t help but laugh when he whipped out a knife from his back pocket.

“Please put that away,” you called over to him, closing your notebook and placing it on your seat as you stood up. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Eddie glanced up, seemingly surprised you were there in the first place; he must not have even noticed you. You disappeared into your camper before he could say a word, reappearing a moment later with a wine key in hand.

He made no move to stop you when you took the bottle, easily twisting the corkscrew into the soft stopper and leveraging it out in seconds. You smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed against the metal walls of the Munsons’ trailer.

“Thanks.” Eddie said, accepting the wine from you with a nod.

“You can thank me by promising you’re going to eat something more filling than frosting before you down that.” You nodded to the freshly opened bottle in his hand with an eyebrow raised.

Eddie stared back at you, his expression hard as he raised an eyebrow to meet yours. “I’ll be fine.”

Oh. You didn’t like the self-destructive undertones of that response.

“Didn’t take you for a wine drinker.” you mused. “Let me see that label again?”

Eddie sighed, handing it to you begrudgingly. You recognized the label; it was the only cabernet you’d been able to afford in your early days of being legal drinking age. You’d never gone to college, choosing the starving artist life over classes you didn’t care about and student loans you’d be paying for over a decade. Technically, you still referred to yourself as a starving artist, but at least now you had a decent savings account and could afford a nice bordeaux now and again.

“Man, this stuff takes me back.” Eddle looked at you curiously, so you elaborated. “I used to get these constantly, it was the only wine I could afford to buy in my early twenties.”

“That can’t have been too long ago.” Eddie replied, a bit of a smile dancing on his lips. You smirked, handing him the bottle back.

“It wasn’t,” you said wryly, “but it wasn’t yesterday either.”

Eddie chuckled, taking a swig of the wine before immediately twisting his face with wrinkled disgust. “Oh my god,” he half gargled the words, promptly spitting the wine into the dirt beside him. “This tastes like shit!”

You laughed, taking the liberty of grabbing his bottle and taking a gulp for yourself. The taste was familiar, but certainly wasn’t pleasant. You cringed slightly and shook your head. “That would be why it’s so cheap.”

Eddie stared at you, aghast. “And you said you like that?”

“Never said I liked it, just drank a lot of it.” you giggled as the young man shook his head with his tongue hanging out, face scrunched up like a baby whose parents had handed them a lemon slice. You cocked your head, still smiling. “You know, whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to get better after a bottle of shitty wine and some frosting.”

That sobered him up quite a bit. Eddie’s gaze turned cold as he frustratedly grabbed the frosting and resumed shoveling it into his mouth.

“Yeah, well…” he harrumphed around his heaping bite, “...beats going back in there and cleaning up the biggest disaster in the history of failed dates.”

Your smile fell, empathy plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.”

So Eddie told you about Chrissy. How he had delusionally hoped he could be boyfriend material. He relayed the events of the evening to you in all their excruciating detail, and the entire time he waited for your face to mimic hers, to display the same sympathetic pinch of her eyebrows that said Oh, you poor, poor boy. How did you not see this coming? How could you have expected any outcome other than this?

But you didn’t. The only thing he saw in your eyes the entire time was understanding.

“I’ve had my fair share of disastrous failed dates,” you sighed. “Yours is by far not the worst.”

Eddie laughed ruefully. “Oh yeah? What could be worse than a guy who misreads an entire relationship so bad that he fools himself into thinking it was even a relationship in the first place?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” you scolded him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s not even true! From what you told me, you had a relationship with this girl, even if you hadn’t officially defined it. She gave you no indication that she didn’t want a traditional, romantic relationship with you, and it wasn’t wrong in the slightest for you to want that with her. The way tonight went down sucks to say the least, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong here.”

Eddie was quiet, and you were keenly aware of the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. When he made no move to speak, you continued.

“For all you know, that was the first time that someone had done something so romantic for this girl. It’s possible she was so overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness that she simply didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t appreciate what you were trying to do for her-”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” he griped.

“Well it should!” you retorted, voice rising an octave. “You showed that girl that she is worth flowers and Italian food and wine and birthday cake! So many people walk around like they don’t deserve things like that, but in reality we all deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about us like that.” You huffed out a deep breath; you were working yourself up over this. “Now, at least that girl knows the standard that every guy should have to live up to from now on.”

Eddie’s eyes were trained on you, ignited by the passion with which you spoke about the worthiness of love that everyone apparently had. He wondered if that passion came from a place of experience, or a place of longing for the sorts of romantic gestures that he’d tried to gift to Chrissy.

“Has someone done those kinds of things for you before?”

Now it was your turn to go quiet. You looked down at your lap at the wine bottle in your hands, remembering how many failed dates had left you home alone with this exact bottle on your counter. How many works of art had come from that loneliness, and how many times those works of art had sold for just enough to pay for that week’s meals. At least something useful came from all those lonely nights.

“No,” you whispered, “that’s why this Chrissy girl is so lucky. Even if she didn’t want what you were offering her, she at least knows how it feels to be valued like that. Let’s hope she chooses not to settle for less.” You took a swig of wine as Eddie eyed you curiously. “Lord knows I settled for less a few times, and look where that got me.”

“Drinking shitty wine in a trailer park?” Eddie supplied.

You smirked at him. “Well, I could also be eating frosting with a spoon.”

Smiling wryly, Eddie looked down into the half-eaten container of frosting, then offered it to you spoon and all. You eyed it for a moment, then accepted.

You wrapped your lips around a generous bite of the sugary substance while Eddie took another crack at the wine. He cringed of course, but muscled through, sighing as he stared at your little camper across the road.

“So does this mean I’m destined to become you? Single and doodling under a rainbow umbrella?”

Eddie’s tone held no malice; nothing but sarcasm and mock dread for his future, but you shoved him with your shoulder nonetheless.

“Hey, now, don’t be mean.”

“Do you at least have a cat or something?” he leaned into your shoulder, lazing his weight into you like a sleepy child. “I don’t exactly want to be a crazy cat lady, but one or two cats might sweeten the deal if I’m fated to be a trailer park bachelorette.”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” You laughed through the words, pushing him off of you and handing him back the frosting container, but not without licking the spoon clean and bopping him on the forehead with it. He may have been a little too focused on your tongue as you cleaned the spoon, but you didn’t notice.

“If you must know, I do have a cat.” you said. “His name is Fibonacci.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ve seen him in your windowsill. He’s gray, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him. I have to open the windows whenever I paint because of the smell, and whenever I do he assumes his favorite spot to soak up the sun and keep watch over his domain.”

That earned you a chuckle. “His domain, huh? He own the whole park?”

“He certainly thinks he does.”

“Well, now I know who to kiss up to in case I’m ever late on rent.”

You glanced at Eddie out the side of your eye, admiring the way the light played on his curls. “Y’know, Fibonacci and I are pretty close.”

“Oh you are, huh?” he quipped. He seemed to know where this was going, and chose to play along.

“Kissing up to me is basically kissing up to him.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded sagely. “It is.”

The two of you were facing each other now, the air between you shifting from neighborly to something more.

“And how might somebody go about kissing up to you? Hypothetically.” Eddie’s voice was a smidge deeper now, and the timbre felt warm in your ears.

“Coffee.” you replied, “At that little cafe on Kerley. They agreed to hang some of my pieces there.” Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance but eyed Eddie with contact that conveyed anything but. “Hypothetically, if someone took me there for coffee and gushed about my shitty artwork, that would definitely land them in my good graces.” You paused, then added, “And by proxy, Fibonacci’s graces.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding as he beamed. “I guarantee your artwork isn’t shitty.”

“Ah, you’re very good at this gushing thing.”

“I’m just getting started.” Eddie placed the frosting container on the stoop behind him, forgotten. He wasn’t hungry for empty calories anymore. “You free Sunday morning?”

Your smile matched Eddie’s now; you couldn’t fight it if you tried. “Pick me up at 10?”

He winced, jokingly unsure. “That’s pretty early for such a long drive to your place, but for you I’ll brave the journey.”

You giggled, standing to make that very journey back across the road. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.”

“The sweetest.”

And he was. Eddie picked you up on Sunday, 10 o’clock like you’d planned, with a bouquet of daisies in hand. You immediately began protesting, thanking him profusely but simultaneously insisting that he really hadn’t needed to go through the trouble-

“You remember what you told me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. That was enough to shut you up.

“You said we all deserve the flowers, the home-cooked meals, the birthday cakes- right?”

You nodded, clutching the flowers as your face began to hurt from the brilliance of your smile.

“Well,” Eddie shrugged, “you shouldn’t settle for less.”

#the boy is mine #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader

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septembersums · 2 years

Text

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 19 | 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: gojo satoru x you

summary: your work crush on gojo satoru finally comes to fruition in the form of rough, angry sex in his penthouse apartment. you never thought you’d be so excited to be broken up with.

There’s something that you’ve always wanted to try. Being with your ex for so many years meant that you never really got the chance to explore yourself, at least not sexually.

He’s a nice guy. He’s rather quiet, rather reserved, and especially so in bed. Your sex life mainly consisted of the basic positions, where he’d climb on top of you and fuck you, and you’d accept it and... honestly remain unsatisfied at times. When he broke up with you, it was bittersweet.

Bitter, because spent the vast majority of your young adult life with him, and change is difficult.

Sweet, because you now have the opportunity to act on a teeny tiny work crush that you’ve developed.

Teeny, tiny, insignificant. You would’ve never acted on it if your ex hadn’t broken up with you.

But he did, and now you’re working up the courage to go into Gojo Satoru’s office and ask him for something.

He wouldn’t say no to you. Gojo always flirts with you, even when you weren’t single. He never cared for your boyfriend, always called him lame, unexciting, boring. When you were alone with Gojo, he’d often times refer to him as a side character, or an NPC.

“Stop that,” you’d say, after a day of Gojo’s teasing your poor boyfriend.

“You’re too hot for him, and you know it,” Gojo would argue, “he looks like the type of guy that would faint if you asked him to tie you up.”

“Gojo!”

“Oh my god, I’m right, aren’t I? Look at me and tell me that hasn’t happened before,” you couldn’t properly look at him, “holy shit. Oh my god. Break up with him, or I swear to christ I’ll do it for you.”

He was half right, half wrong. Your ex-boyfriend didn’t quite faint when you’d ask for something new in bed, but he would give you this bewildered, distant expression and ask what’s gotten into you?

“I’m not gonna break up with him. Don’t be like that,” you’d say, shoving your work crush down your throat and swallowing it.

And then Gojo would laugh a lot, because you could never deny his claims, nor validate them. You’d just sit there blushing, looking away from him, trying not to giggle at his mean-spirited jokes.

Sometimes you did, and he’d never let you live it down.

Regardless, you always knew that the crush was somewhat mutual between the two of you. At the very least, he’d fuck you, and you know that because he never hesitates to tell you.

The first time he subtly cued you in on it being mutual was when you were at the bar with him, Suguru, Shoko, and Nanami after work one night a couple of months ago.

“If you could-- if you could hook up with anyone from work,” Shoko slurred, after having enough drinks to down a grown man, “who?”

Gojo laughed, he wasn’t drunk at all, “I could hook up with anyone from work except you, ‘cause you’d be crying over Utahime the whole time--”

“Shut up,” she hissed, “that’s not the game, ‘n you know it.”

“Fine,” he relented, sitting back in the booth.

He gave you a sly look, blue eyes darting between your eyes and your lips for a fraction of a second, before sighing and saying, “Suguru, obviously. I mean, we’ve already--”

And then you heard a rather detailed story about how he and Suguru occasionally share women, and occasionally leave out the women and just share one another. He’d look right at you during the filthiest parts, lips curved up into a knowing smirk at the sight of your wide-eyed stare.

Satoru only got bolder after that. Meanwhile, you still can’t muster up the courage to just walk into his office and ask for what you want. It’s not like he’ll say no.

He won’t. Of course not. He’s so casual about these things, he’s not quite a whore, but he’s whore-adjacent. Satoru likes sex, he’s too self-indulgent to say no to an opportunity of fucking one of his best friends. Right?

You tap your nails on the desk, deliberating your options as you stare at the door.

Right.

After adjusting your hair a little, you make your way into his office, where he’s sitting with his feet reclined up on the desk, fucking around on his phone. You don’t know how he even sees the screen with his blindfold on, but that’s a question for another time.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses, fixing himself back upright instantly, “I thought you were Yaga. Come in.”

“Hey,” you say, closing the door behind you, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“What’s up, baby?” He asks, smiling at you radiantly like he always does, even when he can tell that you’re stirring and brooding over something, like you are now.

“I-- I wanted to,” you trail off, stammering and refusing to look at him, “I was wondering if we could... if you could... fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying. You’re-- I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you, and...”

“Straight and to the point, I see,” he teases you, laughing at your nerves, “but I heard about you and Mr. Limpdick breaking up. Am I on the right track?”

“You know that’s not his name,” you argue shyly.

“Sure, I do. What I don’t know is why you’re still defending him when he couldn’t make you cum. I mean, I don’t really see the point, but whatever,” he refutes, shrugging, “but if you’re here asking me to fix that,” he leans forward, murmuring smoothly, “I wouldn’t say no.”

“You wouldn’t?”

“Of course not,” he replies, “I’ve wanted to fuck you since the day I met you.”

Oh.

Oh?

“Okay,” you reply softly, barely able to cover the nervousness surging through your system, nor the way you’re having to shift in your seat when he says such bold, audacious things so casually.

“Wanna come over after work?”

“Yeah,” you reply, biting your lip, “and... I’ve never had... uh, can you... be mean to me? When we do it?”

He chuckles at your shyness, “How mean?”

“Really mean,” you murmur soflty.

“I can be mean to you. I can make you cry if you want me to,” he replies with a cocky smirk, “but we’re gonna need a safeword if you want it rough.”

“Stop wouldn’t work?” You ask, perking up with fear masked by enthusiasm.

“No,” he replies seriously, “anything other than the safeword is encouragement to me, baby. I’ll go harder if you say stop.”

You bite your lip, breathing in deeply at the way the room suddenly feels ten times smaller, “Alright... I’m okay with that. What should it be?”

He laughs, and then he says your ex-boyfriend’s name.

You tried to argue about it, giving reasons like “what if it’s muscle memory for me to say his name?”

Satoru just laughed at you, and then he told you that he knows it’s not, and that if you say anyone else’s name in the first place, he might have to take a breather so that he doesn’t actually hurt you.

He warned you that he can be rough, he can be too rough if he’s not careful, considering his infinite strength and stamina.

You’re excited. You’re unbearably, unreasonably excited.

When you arrive to his apartment later in the evening, you’re bubbling with anxiety and nerves about what’s going to happen, what you’ve been wanting to happen for months now.

You’ve thought about it, and you’ve thought about it a lot, but now that the time’s here you want to run away. Satoru doesn’t let you. Instead, he opens the door and grins at you.

“You want a drink?”

“Okay.”

“You nervous?”

“Fuck yes.”

“Good.”

And then things are relatively normal for a few moments. Though you’ve never been to his apartment before, it looks the way that you’d expect it to look. Impersonal, unused, cleaned professionally by people other than himself.

You get the odd feeling that he’s trying to make you more nervous, rather than to calm you down, like he feeds off of your bubbly, shy energy. He sits close to you but doesn’t touch you, he drags on a conversation about you and how you’ve been fucked before until you almost can’t stand him.

“He really missed an opportunity with you,” Satoru murmurs, sitting so close to you now that he can play with your hair while he talks, “you’re so eager to please, but he’s too stupid to see you for what you are like I do.”

“Are you trying to fuck me or date me?” You ask, teasing him back.

“I’m just reminding you of how much I like you,” he replies softly, “I really do like you.”

“You say that like I won’t think so after.”

He hums softly, “You won’t.”

You shiver, as he leans in and presses his lips to yours, so gentle that it feels disingenuous. Using his technique, he levitates your glass out of your hand to sit it on the coffee table, dragging you closer to him.

Just from kissing, from the way he cradles your neck and licks your lower lip, it feels more passionate and erotic than anything you’ve experienced before. You find yourself needy, chasing after him more so than the opposite, until you’re about to crawl into his lap if he doesn’t offer you more.

He stops you, holding a firm hand against your hipbone, tracing circles on the bone with his thumb.

“Greedy whore,” he scolds you irritably, “you’ll get more when you earn more. Take your fucking clothes off.”

The sudden change in pace startles you, catches you off guard and leaves you fumbling for a response, staring at him confusedly.

“Did I stutter?” He asks, tapping his finger on his knee like he’s counting the seconds it takes you to listen.

You start to slip one of the straps of your dress off your shoulder, attempting to listen.

“Not like that,” he reprimands it, “stand up, and don’t be shy. I won’t like it.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” you stutter out, standing up in front of him gracelessly.

He chuckles, “That’s better, baby.”

Satoru sits on the couch with his arms stretched along the back of it, knees spread widely so that you get a full view of the hardness that sits along his thigh. He takes up so much space with his long limbs that it’s unnerving, as you slip the straps of your dress down your arms, reaching behind you to unzip it.

“Slowly,” he demands, hardly over a whisper.

You nod anxiously, as the fabric slips down your body like silk, revealing the matching lingerie set underneath. It’s all black, and you bought it just for him, eager to please-- just like he said.

“You look good,” he says hoarsely, as his cock twitches against the rigid confines of his slacks, “c’mere.”

You stand between his legs, as his hands trail up the backs of your thighs, and he hums affectionately at the feeling of your skin underneath his palms.

“Did you buy that for me?”

“Yes, sir.”

He kisses your stomach, traveling from your navel down to the hem of your panties, “Good girl.”

You whine at his praise, as he kisses your sex through the lace, grabbing your leg to hoist it over his shoulder, as you grab onto him for balance.

He licks at you teasingly through the fabric, wetting it with his saliva even more so than it already is. Until you’re clawing into his hair, whining to beg for more than what he’s giving you.

“Be fuckin’ patient,” he rasps, slapping your ass, “or I’ll rip these off and gag you with ‘em.”

“Fuck,” you murmur, rocking your hips against his lips, impatient, just as impatient as he thought you’d be.

Little did you know, his cock is throbbing in his slacks, and you’re making it just as hard for him to be patient with you.

“Satoru,” you whine.

And his patience snaps with the waistband of your thong, as the room fills with the sound of him ripping it off of your body. He’s standing, tearing your bra off with just as much impatience, hoisting you up onto his hips to carry you to his bedroom, kissing you with every step.

Your back hits the mattress with a thud, as Satoru loses all composure. He’s unbuttoning his shirt, licking his lips as he stares down at you.

“Touch yourself. Get yourself ready for me.”

And you listen, thrusting your fingers between your legs to play with your clit. It’s been so long since you’ve had an orgasm, even longer since you’ve been this aroused, if it’s ever happened before.

Satoru unbuttons his slacks, unzips them, and you’re ready to cum right as he’s freeing his cock from his briefs, running his thumb over the leaky, red tip. He’s so hard that it looks painful, straining against his abdomen as his eyes rove over your body like he’s starving for you.

“Don’t fuckin’ cum,” he says, watching the way your breaths stutter, as he strokes himself to the sight of it.

You stop, unable to hold yourself back if you keep moving for even a moment longer.

He scolds you for it, making you feel like all of his requests have no right answer, like there’s nothing you can do that won’t lead to punishment.

“Did I say stop touching yourself?”

“No, sir.”

“Then keep going,” he says, climbing onto the bed, prowling up to you like a jaguar on all fours, “fuck yourself on your fingers, but don’t cum. A worthless whore like you can do that, can’t you? You can hold back?”

You want to say no, that you can’t, that any amount of stimulation while he’s so close and so threatening will tip you over the edge, but you don’t. Instead, you continue to touch yourself at the same rate, at the same speed, knowing that you’re destined for failure.

“Please--” you whine, as he sucks one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, closing his teeth around the hardened tip, “Satoru, I can’t-- I’m gonna--”

He bites down harder, dragging your hand away from your cunt so rapidly that you can barely perceive it, before he’s thrusting all the way inside of you, bottoming out against your cervix as you fucking fall apart around him.

A string of spit connects his lips to your nipple, as he looks up at you, watching your face with rapt attention as he grinds his cock inside of you to fuck you through your first orgasm. Your brows are bunched up in pleasure, lips locked into a silent “o.”

“I was gonna ruin it, wasn’t gonna let you have it,” he rasps, “but the thought of feeling you cum around my cock was so-- ngh-- god, so fuckin’ good. You feel so good for me, so tight.”

You’re so full of him that it’s indescribable, as he leans down to kiss you, spreading your legs until the backs of your thighs are even with his hips, your knees to your shoulders.

He’s relentlessly brutal, lost in the sensation of your cunt sucking him up and taking every inch with ease. Satoru holds the headboard with one hand, holds your throat with the other.

“Needy fucking bitch,” he growls, spitting into your open mouth, “swallow it-- thank me for it.”

The vowels in your words come out in time with his thrusts, “Tha-ank y-o-ou Sat-tor-u-u.”

His grip around your throat tightens, sweat slicks his bangs to his forehead before he leans up to brush them back. The bed bangs against the wal with every thrust, and you’ve never been fucked like this before.

Never, never, never.

Never felt a cock so big that it feels like he’s rearranging your insides with every movement.

Never cum so many times that it starts to hurt.

Never been choked, slapped, bitten. He does all three in spades. When you can’t answer him because you’re lost in pleasure or he’s choking you, he slaps you-- he makes you thank him for slapping you.

He bites down on your neck, sucks bruises into your skin, tells you that he hopes your fuckin’ ugly boyfriend sees each and every one of them.

“You’re my girl, aren’t you? Yeah? That’s why you’re letting me fuck you like a slut like this?”

You warble out a yes, s-s-sir, cumming around his cock so hard that you can’t speak well.

“Fuckin’ bitch in heat,” he growls, leaning down close to you. He doesn’t kiss you, he licks your outstretched tongue, licks a strip from your jawline up to your earlobe, and then he bites it.

“Want me to cum in this pussy? Want me to fuck you ‘till you’re mine?”

You can’t speak, can’t think, so you just whine against him and claw into his back. You’re drawing blood, it’s going to make him cum.

“God, you can’t even speak,” he taunts you condescendingly, “pathetic little bitch. It’s a good thing I don’t care if you say no.”

As if you’d ever say no, not with the way you’re locking your ankles around his hips to force him deeper, not with the way you’re using your nails in his back to force him to go harder, not with the way you can’t tell if he hates you, and it’s making you love him in return.

“God, plea-se--” you cry, as best you can.

“That’s right call me God, baby-- fuck, I’m gonna cum-- fucking take it, bitch-- fuck--”

Warmth spills out within you, as the lights flicker on and off throughout the apartment, and all of the furniture in the room moves a few feet from the bed in a reckless, unintentional expulsion of his power. You can feel the purple lightning behind your eyes, taste it on your tongue, like he hit you, too-- and he probably did.

“Fuck, are you okay, baby?”

“Mhm,” you hum contentedly, as he peppers your face in soothing kisses.

“Was I too rough?” He asks, moving to your jawline and neck sweetly.

“Nuh-uh,” you hum, basking in the affection and hardly able to think at this point after he’s turned your brain into a slurry of feelings without thoughts, “could’ve been rougher.”

He chuckles softly, “Good, ‘cause I wanna go again.”

“Mm, Satoru.”

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erinkeifer · 5 months

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ℕ𝕠𝕥 𝕞𝕪 𝕔𝕠𝕕𝕖 - ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕍

[Anakin Skywalker x Padawan!Fem Reader]

Masterlist | Wattpad | AO3 Not My Code Masterlist

Summary: On the day of your knighting, you find yourself forced to confront someone you absolutely do not want to see—at least not in Anakin's company. The presence of your Master's ex-wife at the ceremony has a hidden agenda, but whatever she aims to achieve, you want to be one step ahead.

Warnings: angst | jealousy | kissing | satisfying ending Author Note: This time, there won't be anything spicy, but let's raise the suspense a bit! We'll delve into some intrigue, but in the end, I hope the conclusion will be satisfying.

Word Count: 3k

The absence of your Padawan's braid behind your ear was a strange feeling, but even though you often complained about how it irritated you and visually ruined your best hairstyles, you held it in your hands with a hint of nostalgia. It marked the end of a very significant chapter in your life, but also the gateway to something, you hope, much better. The ceremony was beautiful and atmospheric, with surprisingly many guests—not just those you invited through your friendly droid, but also a few important senators, the Chancellor himself... And... Well, speaking of senators... You knew Padmé Amidala would show up at the ceremony—it wasn't a surprise to you. However, you consistently pushed that awareness to the back of your mind, not allowing thoughts of that 'first encounter' to trouble you. You didn't look in her direction during the ceremony—your gaze was probing Anakin, who, in turn, didn't even turn his head toward her, which buoyed your spirits. After the ceremony, you exchanged handshakes and accepted congratulations from guests alongside your Master, who proudly accompanied you throughout. Once you made sure to thank everyone for their attendance, you directed your guests to Dex's diner, reserved for you and your party that evening. "Are we not all going together?" Obi-Wan asked, standing with Anakin in the temple foyer. "Go ahead, I'll catch up with you in a moment; I just need to change into something more comfortable." you replied with a smile, gesturing to your elaborately adorned, albeit uncomfortable, outfit worn during the knighting. "Ten minutes, and we'll be toasting without you, Ma'am." Kenobi summarized, eliciting laughter from you and Skywalker, before slowly making their way toward the exit. "Um, Anakin!?" you called out while the two were still within your reach. "Yes?" Skywalker turned toward you. "Do you have the reservation confirmation with you? Just in case." you asked, and Anakin pulled a paper badge from his belt. "Better safe than sorry." he replied with a smile, to which you nodded and smiled back. With this brief exchange, you went your separate ways. .................................................................................................................. Obi-Wan and Anakin walked in silence until they entered one of the lifts in a spacious corridor. "What was that?" Kenobi suddenly asked, pulling Skywalker out of his reverie. "What do you mean, Master?" he asked, trying to figure out what had caused such a puzzled expression on Obi-Wan's face. "You didn't insult each other, neither of you called the other an idiot or showed the middle finger, and to top it off, it's the first time I've heard her call you by your first name." Kenobi clarified, crossing his arms in an 'appraising' manner. "Did I do something wrong?" Skywalker asked rhetorically. "No, but any deviation from the norm—in your case, Anakin—especially surprises me." Obi-Wan replied, maintaining his posture. "I'm just putting into practice what you taught me, Master." added Anakin, smiling proudly at Kenobi. "Should I be afraid?" asked Obi-Wan, even more bewildered, though surprised. "Who knows?" Skywalker added with a hint of irony as the lift doors began to open. The two walked through the deserted ground floor of the temple, which was a straight path to the exit. "I had something to ask you... How are you feeling?" Kenobi suddenly inquired, taking advantage of the moment. "I don't quite understand." Skywalker expressed confusion this time. "It's the first time in a very long time when, you know... the Senator is our guest. I know you've been through rough times, and..."

"Answering your question, Master... I feel better than ever." Anakin interrupted, surprising Kenobi slightly, but internally delighted because the answer to this question—especially recently—hadn't been an easy one for his apprentice. Obi-Wan regularly posed this question to him, but today, for the first time, he received a determined answer, a response he had been waiting for a long time, perhaps signaling that a painful phase in Anakin's life was finally becoming clear. "Well... So I guess we'll raise a toast for that as well today." Kenobi added after a moment of silence, and Anakin turned towards him, exchanging a subtle smile. Soon, the duo reached the exit of the temple, and before them stood the crew waiting by the doors, ready to accompany the two Generals to the diner. "Finally, so, are we ready to roll?" Rex shouted, gesturing towards Anakin and Obi-Wan. "This is where the fun begins." Skywalker whispered to Kenobi, and both with smiles, headed towards the crew. ..................................................................................................................

In the meantime, in the absence of the others, you managed to change your outfit in Anakin's quarters, where you had left your more comfortable attire the day before. Along the way, you decided to bring R2 with you, who had been on guard duty. Once you had smoothed your hair and touched up your nose for the rest of the evening, you closed the door behind you and the droid. With brisk steps, you made your way along the corridor leading to the lifts. At a certain point, you noticed that the door to one of the guest quarters was ajar, and the dead silence in the hall allowed you to hear the conversation emanating from it. Intrigued by the sound, you stopped. Perhaps you wouldn't have done so if the feminine voice coming from the room didn't sound so dramatic, and perhaps you wouldn't have done so if the room for the night didn't belong to Padmé.

"Maybe you should at least try? If you don't try, you'll never know."

"But how? I can't just approach him and say, 'Hey, let's try again.'"

"But we both know you came here today just to talk to him."

"I know... But I was hoping he'd be the one to approach me first, but he didn't even look at me."

"You can't keep thinking this way forever..."

The eavesdropped conversation ended at this point, and you couldn't steady the trembling of your hands. The overheard words made your blood boil, and you prayed just to manage to keep that feeling inside because Padmé and her handmaiden, with whom she was conversing, were just coming out of the quarters. "Oh... Hello, it's been so long..." Padmé said with a slightly surprised expression when she saw you standing a few steps in front of the door from which she emerged. For a long time, you had the habit of bowing, greeting formally and respectfully when it came to politicians - but now, you didn't even blink. "Do you happen to know if Anakin is in..." "He's not there." you replied before Padmé could finish her question, to which the woman next to her reacted with a somewhat confused expression. "Oh, I see... Were you looking for him too?" she asked, aware that not everyone had the right to enter private quarters in the Temple. "I came to get R2." you replied with a stony face, beneath which a hint of pride could be discerned, a pride that only you could feel. "Oh." Padmé let out a short sigh, tinged with a hint of uncertainty, and being sure that this was all the senator needed from you, you moved ahead. "Uh, wait, please..." even though you would rather keep going, not wanting to build such a dramatic aura around you, you stopped and turned your head toward her. "Congratulations on your new title. I always knew you were capable." You paused for a moment, hearing those words, and forced a fake smile, looking at both women. "Sure. I mean... Thank you. And now, Senator, I apologize, but I have to go. They're waiting for me." Without waiting for 'permission,' you moved away, and Padmé just nodded, slightly embarrassed, and went with her handmaiden in the opposite direction. Walking, you replayed Amidala's words in your head. Nasty lies that you wouldn't even buy as a child, because you knew well that she never cared about your development under Anakin's wing. All that concerned her was his time spent with you, the energy she claimed you were "stealing from him," and the attention she expected but never reciprocated. Jealousy mixed with fear gnawed at you from the inside – you tried to be confident, tried to think about how Anakin ignored her – but you couldn't stop entertaining dark scenarios. What if he yielded? What if he gave her a chance? What if her plan was cleverer than yours? The one you were just putting the finishing touches on in your mind because, after all this, you have to prove who's playing the first violin here. Oh, you didn't even care how dangerous it was in terms of the Jedi Code at the moment; why should it concern you now? Are you supposed to give up and not sleep peacefully? No way. ..................................................................................................................

Your little 'after-party' helped you calm down significantly. When you entered the venue, Anakin sensed your conflicting emotions, but as you sat next to each other, unnoticed by others, he subtly ran his finger along your thigh, signaling that everything was okay and you shouldn't stress. Of course, he didn't know the exact reasons for your mood, but he felt enough to help comfort you. The reception went in a truly festive atmosphere—there were 'uncle' jokes from Obi-Wan, who, after a few deep glasses, had everyone in tears of laughter, and toasts in honor of you and your master, which you lost count of after a few hours. Everyone was getting themselves together and extending their stay, led by Kenobi, whom Rex was helping to stand on two legs. However, you and Anakin decided to slip away to the temple quarters. "But promise me it's nothing scary!" you said, laughing, as you ran after Anakin to his apartment. "I promise, I promise!" Anakin replied, amused by your suspicion. Your hasty escape from the party was initiated by Anakin—he told you he had a gift for you and had been waiting for this day specifically. Throughout the journey to the temple, you kept bombarding Skywalker with questions to which he didn't want to answer because, after all, it was a surprise. "Ugh! Can you at least tell me where we're going?" you asked impatiently and breathlessly, trying to keep up with Anakin's brisk pace. "To my quarters!" he replied, winking at you. "Really? I was there before the reception, and I saw nothing..." "That means the hideout was a success." Anakin replied, maliciously picking up the pace. "Damn it!" you muttered, running after your master and catching your breath every now and then. When you reached the door and the squealing R2-D2, who was also experiencing a pace crisis today, Anakin quickly opened the door, and everyone enthusiastically stepped inside. "Okay, now just stand here and turn around... Unless I blindfold you with something." Anakin said, pointing towards the corner by the door where you were supposed to stand facing away. "Okay, I'd rather just turn around. Let's save that for another occasion." you said with a cheeky smile, which Skywalker reciprocated, and you did as he instructed, turning around and putting your hands behind your back. Anakin stepped back, ensuring that you weren't peeking. Satisfied that you were obedient, he approached one of the hidden compartments in his apartment. You heard behind you the sound of... metal? and heavy, lowering doors, but you patiently waited for the signal to turn around. "Ready?" Anakin asked, his voice filled with excitement. "Like never before." you smiled widely but still kept your eyes on the wall in front of you. "So?" Instead of giving a command, Anakin came over to you. With a gentle move, he grabbed your arms, maneuvering your body so you could turn around and see what he had prepared for you. "Congratulations, Jedi Knight." he whispered tenderly into your ear, and your eyes widened at the sight of the gift. "Is this... QT-KT?" you put your hand over your mouth, unable to believe what you were seeing. "In the flesh." Anakin replied, joyfully watching your reaction. "What did you..." you started, approaching the droid, which was slowly activating. "I tinkered with it a bit, gave it some attention, polished it a bit... Well, and I reprogrammed it just for you." Skywalker answered before you could finish your question. "Are you telling me you did this... for me? Am I to understand that this is my droid?" you asked, looking at your master with immense surprise and affection. "Yes, indeed. I've been planning it for some time and decided that today would be the right day to give you this little surprise." he replied, joyfully watching you test the functions of your new droid. Finally, you stood up from a kneeling position, and still in disbelief, you took a few steps toward the large window in the room.

"Anakin... I... I don't know what to say..." you held your head, turning to Skywalker with a broad smile. Without saying anything, Anakin came over to you and, turning you towards him, embraced you around the waist, and at that moment, your foreheads touched. "I really don't know how to thank you." you whispered, looking into his eyes, and Anakin hugged you very tightly—due to your height difference—almost lifting you off the floor. "Just... Be here... With me." hearing those words, not knowing why, you pulled away from Anakin's arm to look him in the eyes. "Do you mean... Today?" you asked, wanting to dispel your doubts. "Today..." he left a single kiss on your lips. "Tomorrow..." he kissed your lips twice. "Always." he concluded, pressing his lips to yours in a overwhelming, long kiss. Your heart pounded like a hammer hearing those words... Or rather, THAT word... Your embrace was still very strong, but suddenly you looked aside, through the glass where until now you could mostly see the beautiful, night sky of Coruscant, illuminated by many stars. Without saying anything more, you gently released yourself from Skywalker's embrace and stood by the window, collecting your scattered thoughts. Anakin's words not only ignited you from the inside, not only melted your heart, but also indicated that the time had come. The time to execute your plan. "Can I...?" turning your head to Anakin, you pointed to the open entrance to the terrace. "Sure." Skywalker smiled, gesturing as if to say 'make yourself at home.' Returning his expression, you went to the terrace, and although for the first few moments, you looked around at the starry sky, your goal was entirely different—and you had it in the palm of your hand. Anakin was still inside, clicking something with your new droid when you had a moment to look around on your own. It didn't take much for your muscles to tense with determination—your eyes landed on the guest terrace, which for the night was at Padmé's disposal, and it was none other than Amidala standing outside, leaning against the railing, watching the movements of night Coruscant. She didn't see you. Not yet. But your plan was clear and straightforward—she had to see you, and you had to act. Now or never.

"In moments like these, I truly appreciate this place... It can be genuinely beautiful here. Despite the war... the fear..." you began speaking slowly, trying to capture Anakin's attention as his slow steps approached you. He walked with his hands casually folded behind his back, a smile on his face, and you heightened your senses. You were waiting for the moment when you'd feel the gaze on you—this time not Anakin's but from the nearly adjacent terrace. Your ability to sense glances was always highly developed—you excelled in it even more than Anakin himself, so at least in this regard, you sometimes managed to protect him on the battlefield. Now, you felt somewhat like you were on a battlefield, waiting for the right moment to use it and do it in the best possible style. But to gain it, you needed to first capture attention. "Today is exceptionally beautiful here." Anakin said, gently embracing you from behind. "Because you're here." You grabbed his hands, which were tenderly spread over your stomach, and your eyes almost sparkled from the heard words. Suddenly, you decided to turn face to face with Skywalker and placed your hands on his neck. "I'll be by your side..." you whispered, watching his eyes scan every inch of your face. "As long as you want." you finished, being so close to him that you could feel his every breath on your lips. This moment was so priceless for you that you momentarily forgot about your plan, but when it returned to your mind, you once again heightened your senses. Touching Anakin's face and looking into his hungry-for-kisses eyes, you began to take small steps backward, as if you were about to lean against the fountain wall in the middle of the terrace. However, none of your movements were without purpose. Already almost leaning against the stone wall, you initiated stumbling over the flat platform separating the fountain from the rest of the space. Hitting the surface with your heel, you produced a dull sound that, you were sure, reached not only the ears of the two of you. You didn't have to lower your eyes from Anakin to know. To feel that HER gaze landed at the source. That she's already onto you. "Kiss me." you whispered to Anakin, when he, taking advantage of the new position, leaned you against the fountain wall and threw himself onto your lips in a passionate kiss. Padmé froze, not believing the sight before her eyes. Not believing that her mission failed so miserably. She watched. She watched as her ex-husband kissed you with a passion he might never have given her. She watched as you touched him as if he were yours, and he touched you as if you were his. When she almost ran inside, you smiled in the ongoing kiss, knowing that your intrigue had succeeded. You touched him as if he were yours. He touched you as if you were his. Because you were his. And he was yours.

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garoujo · 2 years

Text

HELP ME OUT — SANO SHINICHIRO

you’d grown used to your boyfriend getting himself caught up in stuff, good thing you’re there to help.

♱ warnings — f!reader, stuckage, exhibitionism, shinichiro gets himself stuck while he’s working at the shop, creampies. ꒰ word count : 3k ! ꒱

♱ note — hewo ! welcome 2 my first post of kinktober yay . i hope you guys enjoy this & the rest of the stuff i have planned <3

RETURN TO KINKTOBER MLIST ♱ REGULAR MLIST

shin : you comin’ down to the shop t’day, baby? need y’re help <3

you always were, you don’t know if it was how hot you thought your boyfriend shinichiro looked working on bikes that had you accepting his invitation everytime, or if it was just your desire to see your boyfriend at any opportunity you could.

but you could never say no.

you’d told him about how sexy you thought he was as he worked, his hair mused and hands slick with oil, gaze heavy and drowsy despite the way it softened when it met yours.

you can still remember the way the confession had made shinichiro swell with pride at the time, grinning all bright and proud and the sight of him like that made your own heart warm because he was really was cute, and all yours.

the bike shop is quiet when you arrive, wearing one of the pretty little skirts that always make your boyfriend’s cheeks dust a little pink — the kind that distracted him from his work and turned his attention to you instead, but maybe that’s what you wanted today.

you let your gaze drift from the parts that lay across the walls, tv in the corner playing some bike commercial that garners your attention for a few moments as you let yourself sway on your heels. there was a certain comfort that came with the store itself, it was clean but rugged and had a certain air to it that was very much like shinichiro that made you feel at home.

you’re only snapped from your daydream by a clash of something metal through the back followed by a spit curse, one that you’ve heard too many times from your boyfriends lips and the sound makes a giggle sound from your own before you follow the source.

but he’s not in his usual spot beside the bike he’s been tinkering with for the last few days, and you frown with a huff before you call for him. “shin? where are you?” you call, pausing at the silence that seems to linger before his voice sounds from deeper into the garage and you turn on your heel.

“shit. ‘m in here, baby.”

you want to laugh when you finally find shinichiro, his body is shuffled under the tiny entryway underneath a suspended truck — his overalls tied around his waist as he lays on his back, oversized shirt pooling on the ground beneath him before you’re leaning down to peek underneath.

“shin?” you grin as you let yourself drop to your knees, and you watch the way your boyfriend features seem to soften at the sight of you when he turns. “hey.. y’look real pretty, angel.” he drawls, his compliment drawn out and slow, sounding unbothered despite the way he’s sweating and covered in oil.

ofcourse he still looks absolutely perfect and attractive.

you watch his eyes flick down to the way you’re bent over to look at him, tiny little skirt bunching around your waist before he quickly turns his head away, clearing his throat with a lazy grin and trying not to think about the view he could have from behind you.

“what’re you doing? you work on trucks now?” you trail off as you watch shinichiro’s gloved fingers work with his tools, propping your chin up against your palm and the bewildered look in your eyes makes him laugh when he glances back at you again.

“nah, he’s a friend of gramps so said i’d take a look. dunno, figured it can’t be too different from a bike.” you pout at him, and it only makes his grin grow. “it’s a real pain t’ crawl outta here when i need my stuff though, baby. can y’hand me my tools when i need ‘em?”

once again, shinichiro does a bad job of glancing over the swell of your thighs in your skirt and you try hard to ignore the simmer of something warm you feel twist in your stomach — knowing you always have his undivided attention everytime you walk into a room.

“is that what you needed help with? you’re so lazy, unless.. sano shinichiro are you stuck right now?” you tease, eyes narrowing at the way your boyfriend suddenly seems to avoid your gaze. “pfff, nah.” he is, you can tell by the way he’s not looking you in the eye but you decide to save him the embarrassment. “just needed an excuse t’ see my baby, ‘s all.”

you did always like when he let you help out, and he knows that. rolling your eyes, you make your body move to stand up straight before you’re skipping over to sit on the floor where his legs rest. “well, what do you need shin?” you sigh with a hum as you watch his pretty abdomen twitch and twist with every movement he makes underneath the truck.

“gimme a sec, baby. jus’ gotta—fuck, don’t think that’s meant’a look like that.” his words are followed by a very alarming grinding sound and a long, drawn out sigh from your boyfriend that makes you giggle. “quit laughin’ at me, can still hear from under here y’know.” the way his words are spoken through a pout only making you laugh even louder.

but by the time shinichiro eventually calls for you to hand him a tool you’re already bored and needy, it feels weird to spend this much time with your boyfriend without his hands on you — or atleast being able to feel his touch given how touchy he was.

“shin~ im bored, when will you be done?” you groan— you hate how childish you sound but you’re still tossing and turning as you try to get comfortable — fiddling around with the metal tools that you’ve organised neatly infront of you too many times to count.

“nearly there, baby. can y’hand me my wrench.” shinichiro asks with good nature, but he’s been telling you he’s nearly there for almost an hour and you’re feeling too touchstarved to hide your frustration now. his voice is rougher with drowsiness, he’s probably tired too but you can’t deny the way it makes your thighs rub together with need.

you feel his hand smooth along your skin when you let the silence linger with a pout on your lips, but then you get an idea when you take another slow glance over the lower half of his figure that’s not concealed under the truck.

this is a desperate situation, you’re absolutely bored and you don’t think you can stand another second of it.

“can feel y’ poutin’ at me, come on don’t be like that — promise, ‘m almost done.” he hums with another affectionate squeeze to your thighs, and your eyes almost roll back in delight at the smooth touch before you decide to put your new plan into action.

with a deep breath, you let the pinpricks of arousal burst along your thighs when you pick up his tool — deliberately leaning onto shinichiro when you reach underneath the truck to hand it to him despite his outstretched hand that’s waiting.

you let your palm rest and curl along his thigh, a little too high up for it to be just coincidence and you feel his muscles twitch under your touch when you press harder, grazing it higher when you hear him exhale shakily from his place underneath the truck.

you know you’ve already gotten to him when you still feel the weight of the tool in your other hand, the image of shinichiro’s eyes fluttering closed as he bites back a moan making you squeeze your fingertips into his skin before you watch the first throb of his cock bounce behind his sweats.

“shit, watch y’re hands, baby. y’re gonna make me fuckin’ hard.” he sighs, taking the wrench from your fingertips a little too quickly as he lets the touch linger a little longer when you exhale.

“sorry shin..” you feign innocence, releasing your grip on his thigh to let your hand trace featherlight touches higher along his bulge, making his abdomen tense when it jolts. “just thought you must be sore under there.”

“fuck—what’s gotten’ i-into ya.” shinichiro grits, you can hear that he’s biting hard on his lower lip to stifle a groan when you let your fingertips dance just short of his cock, he’s half hard and basically begging for you to help him out. “what do you mean, shin? i’m helping.”

your fingers graze teasingly along the base of his bulge and you hear him groan softly at the soft pressure of the touch, hips jolting to chase more of the intoxicating friction before he’s hissing behind clenched teeth.

“this ain’t fair, baby. fuck, can’t fuckin’ feel ya from here.” shinichiro’s muffled whimper makes you feel too warm under your clothes suddenly, and the next sinful, lingering squeeze of your fingers around him makes desire twist thick in your stomach when you feel him thicken and throb against your palm.

you can basically already imagine the look on his face, the flush on his cheeks and the pinch of his brows, the way his forearm is probably resting over his blown, heavy eyes. you can tell that he’s panting softly with the rise and fall of his abdomen, lower lip most likely sucked between his teeth.

you’ve barely touched him, but you know shinichiro’s already a mess.

“y’re a real tease. y’know that, angel?” his words catch at the end when you deliberately tighten your fingers around his bulge, giving it a rough stroke against your palm before you pull your hand away entirely, earning a long whine from your boyfriend who’s still stuck underneath the truck.

“h-hey.. what’re ya—“ he grunts when he feels your fingertips graze against his abdomen, tucking under where he’s tied his overalls around his waist before you’re pulling the knot undone and pulling down his sweats after, just enough to have his cock springing out to slap against his stomach.

finally seeing shinichiro’s cock makes your mouth water before you’re hooking your thigh over both of his — letting yourself straddle his lap while you let the fabric of your skirt bunch around your waist.

“i want you, shin.” you gasp, and you watch his abdomen twist with a shock of pleasure when you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, giving it a few languid pumps before he’s groaning and meeting every twist of your wrist with an eager hump.

“yeah? shit—you know i can never say no t’ my baby.” his words are low, wound so tight with anticipation despite the way he still wishes he could see you right now.

shinichiro can imagine how pretty you’d look lifting your hips to pull your panties to the side, his lips parting to grind out a groan when he feels your thighs shuffle up to straddle his waist followed by the first swipe of his cock through your folds.

he really should be embarrassed, he’s stuck underneath a truck in the back of his bike shop, while his pretty little girlfriend humps and rubs her slick cunt all over his cock. if waka or benkei were to see him like this they’d bully him about it for the rest of his life.

but then you’re catching your clit against the head of shinichiro’s cock and the pretty little whisper that drips from your lips makes his mind blank, and suddenly he couldn’t care less if the fucking world were to walk in right now because all he can think about is the way your cunt feels when you finally sink yourself down on his cock.

“holy shit, bet y’look r-real fuckin’ pretty right now.” god—he knows you are.

he can hear the way you moan and twitch at the thick spread of him, his body twisting to look between your bodies — the peek of your cunt just visible above his cock, and shinichiro swears he’s in heaven.

he can see just above his own hips, but that’s enough for him to see the peek of your puffy folds spread for him, that’s all he needs to be hypnotised by you. he lets his head fall back against the concrete just as he watches your hips finally press flush against his, taking your time to adjust to the stretch as his cock throbs inside of you.

“you’d be able to see if you didn’t get yourself stuck, dummy.” you tease followed by the first real bounce of your body against his, raising your hips until only the top of shinichiro’s cock is resting inside of your cunt before you’re sinking back down onto him.

“y-yeah, yeah.. lecture me later, baby. mmmm, fuck—y’re pussy f-feels too good right now.” your mind feels cloudy with the low rumble of his voice, and shinichiro’s feels hazy with how good you’re fucking him. your boredom completely melting out of your body now that you’ve gotten what you wanted most, your boyfriends body rocking seamlessly along your own.

the muscles in shinichiro’s toned body shake beneath you when he grinds his hips up to meet yours, deliberately rolling his pelvis upwards to graze along your puffy clit. the head of his cock slides along every one of the swollen spots inside of you, and he’s really wishing he could swallow those pretty sounds you’re making for him right now.

but his cock feels like it sparks something along the nerves in your body, letting your fingers graze between your thighs to roll your clit in sticky circles as the other takes a slow, handful of your breast through your shirt. you try to imagine your fingers as his, letting yourself indulge in the warmth that he always seemed to make burst along your thighs.

“can feel y’ squeezin’ around me, princess. hnnn, y’re gonna make me fuckin’ cum.” shinichiro grunts, and you’re surprised at the way he still seems to keep a pace given his current position. everytime he grinds his cock into your slick cunt it feels like it reaches even deeper.

your pace stutters as he pushes against something sensitive inside of you, your body grinding closer—needier into his and he feels like he can barely breathe with how consumed by you he feels.

“well you were taking too long, shin.” another languid roll of your hips and another needy squeeze of your cunt across his cock makes him moan loudly, choking on your name as his own fingertips twist in his hair and fuck—he wishes it were your hands instead.

but shinichiro only fucks into you more even more eagerly, one of his palms reaching to squeeze around the flesh of your thigh as he listens to the way you cry for him. another sweet groan kicks it’s way from his chest followed by another needy coax of your walls and he swears you must be trying to milk him.

his body almost curls in on itself in bliss with the way you’re bouncing on his lap, every push of your cunt feels like it makes his vision white and he wishes he could pull you closer to bury his sounds in the crook of your neck instead of the back of his forearm.

“aint complainin’ bout it now, baby. got what y’ wanted di’nt ya?” you hear him grumble, words buried into the back of his elbow as he almost bites down on the skin. he can feel tears prick at his lashes, can imagine the way you’re rubbing so desperately at your puffy clit — probably in time with the way you’re squeezing around him and it’s driving him insane.

maybe it’s the lack of some of his senses that only makes his pleasure burn more intense along his nerves, his carnal need to look at you—touch you as you fuck yourself dumb on his cock.. but knowing he can’t makes his cock throb with another silky squeeze of your cunt around him.

“fuck, angel. ‘m gonna cum.. mmmm, feels too fuckin’ good—shiiit.” shinichiro’s breathing hitches as he curses, eyes screwed shut as his hips twitch and stutter beneath you before he’s cumming thick and warm inside of you.

every bounce of your hips makes his lungs quake and it only takes a few more flicks of your clit underneath your fingers before you’re following him off the edge, the warmth he fills you with helping dig your orgasm out of you.

the back shop is filled with both of your mixed moans, small whimpers of eachothers names that break off into something weaker as your pleasure rocks through you, every connection of your hips growing wetter, louder than the last.

your movements finally come to a halt when your thighs burn and a mixture of both your orgasms is smeared along your thighs and shinichiro’s pelvis, watching your boyfriend twitch when you finally release him from the milking compressions of your cunt with a long sigh.

“holy shit.” he huffs, breathing heavy as he tries to catch his breath and hisses when he reaches down to try and tuck his cock back into his sweats. you let yourself roll off of his lap to relax, hearing a few spat curses to your side as your boyfriend struggles to duck out from underneath the truck, but you still find it in yourself to laugh when you finally see the first peek of his face a few minutes later.

he’s flushed to his chest, dark mop of messy hair stuck around the sweat that gathers across his hairline and his eyes are a little wet, probably from desire as his hooded, drowsy gaze sends you a fond look and he’s finally pulling you against him.

“the hell was that all about, baby? would’ve finished sooner if y’just told me you were horny.” shinichiro hums, pressing wet kisses along your cheeks and lips that makes you grin when they tickle your skin. but when his arms hook around your waist, it’s almost too easy to melt against his chest despite the mess he’s covered in.

“you were taking too long.. but you fixed it, right?” you hum, turning to blink up at him from where he’s got you pressed against his chest.

“nah, might’a made it worse.. i dunno. ain’t my fault i got a bit distracted.” shinichiro laughs before he’s leaning down to press his lips against yours with a fond hum.

“not that i’m complainin’ bout it, angel.”

#𖥶 ₊˚. — ktober !#tokyo rev x reader #tokyo rev x you #tokyo revengers x you #tokyorev x you #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers smut #tokyorev smut #tokyo rev smut #tokyorev x reader #shinichiro x reader #sano shinichiro smut #shinichiro smut #sano shinichiro x reader #shinichiro x you

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yanderecrazysie · 4 months

Text

Unravel (Yandere! Leech Twins)

I came up with this idea at like 1 am when I was exhausted. At the end, I will share the drunken-sounding idea I wrote down. I literally sound like a mess but it’s lowkey hilarious.

I am absolutely in love with Jade Leech (and Ruggie).

Also Jesus Christ this was 3k words- I haven’t written that much in over a year I think.

Title: Unravel

Pairings: Jade Leech x Reader x Floyd Leech

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, marking, I love Jade omg

Summary: Weren’t you crying out for their help through your music?

“I’m broken down, the world around us

Surrounds my suffering.

You smile and laugh at me,

But you don’t see a thing.”

- from “Unravel” English Metal Cover by Jonathan Young

The Mostro Lounge was unusually quiet. Jade wasn’t the type to complain and it sure made his and Floyd’s job easier. For the first time ever, there was a short break in between orders during rush hour.

Azul, on the other hand, was not happy. His face was impassive, but Jade had known him long enough to read the signs: the quirk in his lips, the narrowed eyes, and the way his shoulders stiffened. Even the astute Azul had no clue as to why rush hour was so slow.

The near-silence of the lounge was shattered by the muffled sound of someone absolutely shredding an electric guitar. Jade, Floyd, and Azul all stopped at once and turned toward the front window. All they could see was the back end of a large crowd gathered around something.

“Jade, Floyd, go check it out,” Azul commanded sharply. The other servers could easily handle the few orders, so Jade and his twin left the lounge, searching for the source of the music.

Being much taller than most of the students in the crowd, Jade and Floyd could easily see who everyone was gathered around.

The prefect of the Ramshackle Dorm, the only girl in the school, and the only student without any magic at all was standing on a bench, playing an electric guitar. Jade almost let out a derisive snort. He had always secretly looked down on you, the poor unfortunate, helpless soul. The one who would never, ever fit in.

You looked down at your red-and-white guitar, avoiding everyone’s gazes. While Jade admitted you had some talent, you still weren’t anything special.

Then, you began to sing.

“I’m breakable, unbreakable. I’m shakable, unshakable.” You suddenly looked up from your guitar, your gaze meeting Jade’s, a gentle smile on your face, “Unraveling since I met you.”

Jade froze and suddenly emotions gripped his heart like an iron fist.

He found himself unable to look away. He managed to give Floyd a side-glance and was surprised to see the expression on his brother’s face. His signature smile was gone, his mouth slightly ajar, his eyes glittering with the same emotion Jade was grappling with.

Suddenly, all of his unkind thoughts about you- the disrespect and derision- began to melt away. Jade shook his head, trying to dispel the bewildering emotions. Just once glance and I’m reacting like this? She was probably just looking past the crowd and I only assumed she was looking at me. If she had been looking at me, Floyd wouldn’t feel the same way I do.

“...I’m paralyzed, I’m paralyzed…” Yes, that’s precisely how I feel right now.

“...don’t wanna hurt you…” My heart feels like it’s about to burst.

“...please just don’t forget me…” I can’t, even though I desperately want to.

Jade was trying desperately to discern what had just happened. Why was he suddenly reconsidering you after one mere second of possible eye contact?

You were beneath him. You had no magic whatsoever. No talent. Nothing.

“That’s the last one for today, okay?” You called out to the crowd. There was a collective groan of disappointment from the crowd. Jade was surprised to hear Floyd’s audible sigh of letdown from beside him.

He risked another glance at his brother and found him pouting, “Shrimpy’s quitting just when we got here!”

As Jade's heart finally settled, the enchantment began to wane. His disdainful attitude toward you had returned. What happened to me was a fluke. The music merely swept me away for a moment.

He watched as you handed the electric guitar back to Ace. Of course it’s not hers, she couldn’t afford the cheapest Mostro Lounge drink. It made him feel better to insult you in his head. She’s below me. An insignificant nobody.

Floyd did not seem to share the same sentiment. As they both reentered the Mostro Lounge, the pout on his lips persisted. “I wanted to hear moooooore,” he whined.

Azul approached them and waited for their report. Jade spoke before Floyd could say something foolish, “There was a crowd around the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm. It is dispersing now, and customers should be returning.”

Sure enough, a line of people entered the lounge, finding seats. Rush hour was back to normal. Azul’s shoulders relaxed and his smile returned, “Was her guitar skills above average?”

Floyd answered before Jade could, “Shrimpy’s sooo good on the guitar and she can sing too!”

“Interesting,” Azul smirked, “I should go and see if she’s interested in a contract. She may not have magic, but she does have a singing voice to offer.”

As Azul left, Jade’s feet moved on their own and, despite knowing that he should be helping with the sudden influx of customers, he felt the need to listen in on his conversation.

You were waving goodbye to Ace and Deuce when Azul approached you.

Jade was too far away to hear the whole conversation, but he caught words here and there.

“Would you… contract… interested… voice.”

Jade watched you laugh, the pleasant sound reaching his ears. His eyes widened and he felt that grip around his heart return.

“Sorry… trust… goodbye.” he managed to make out. You shook your head emphatically, a smile still on your face. You waved to Azul and walked away. Jade couldn’t help but watch you until you disappeared behind a corner.

Azul looked somewhat peeved as he turned back to the lounge. He gave Jade a curious look, and Jade realized, with a start, that he didn’t have an excuse for being outside.

“What are you doing?” Azul asked.

“I was just seeing if you needed any backup,” Jade answered smoothly, knowing that his excuse was a lame one.

Azul nodded, giving him a suspicious sideways look, “Well, I need you inside right now. There are customers to serve.”

Jade nodded and pulled on the door, holding it open for his boss to pass through. Immediately, he headed for the nearest table in his assigned area. He thanked them for their patience and took their order. He headed back to the kitchen to hand the order off to the chefs and was surprised to see Floyd already there, waiting for his return.

“Sooo, how’d it go?” Floyd asked, “Is Shrimpy going to make a contract with Azul?”

“No,” Jade felt a smile itching to spread across his face, “She’s smart enough not to trust him.”

Floyd laughed and grabbed his order, leaving the kitchen and his brother behind. Jade picked up the drink handed to him and felt it slip a little in his hand. He suddenly realized that his hands were sweating.

Is this because of you? Jade dismissed the thought immediately. It couldn’t be because of you. You were nothing special- no one to have a second thought about.

It was just because it was warm outside. No other reason.

—-----------------------------------------

It occurred to Jade much later that you must have been singing a song from your homeworld. He had looked up the lyrics he remembered and found no results. It bothered him that you would sing such a conflicting song instead of a happy one. Were you depressed, perhaps? Upset that you may never return home?

He wasn’t sure why he cared.

The rush hour was slow again and, this time, Jade had no doubts as to why. It was so slow, in fact, that he didn’t notice his twin was missing for quite a while. He let out a groan. It wasn’t unusual for Floyd to duck out on his shifts, but the timing was too obvious.

He was watching you, wasn’t he?

Sure enough, when the crowd returned to the lounge, Floyd was casually walking in with them, his hands behind his head and a pleased smile plastered on his face. Jade felt a rush of anger and… something else.

Was that jealousy?

Jade clenched and unclenched his fists, trying to clear his mind. There was no possibility at all that he was jealous of his brother for getting to watch you. Not a chance in hell.

When Floyd slipped into the kitchen, Jade coldly smiled at him, “Skipping another shift?”

“I couldn’t resist watchin’ Shrimpy again,” Floyd grinned, revealing his sharp teeth, “‘sides, I doubt you had to pick up any slack.”

Jade clenched his teeth. Floyd wasn’t wrong, but still…

It wasn’t fair.

Jade’s eyes widened at the childish thought that crossed his mind. What was wrong with him? He wasn’t acting like himself at all, and he was sure that it was all your fault.

Azul beckoned Jade and Floyd to his office. The twins walked inside and each took a seat across from their boss.

“This girl is stealing our rush hour customers, “Azul said sharply, “I need you two to convince her that she should play as live entertainment for the Mostro Lounge.”

Jade didn’t have to ask for clarification on what Azul meant by “convince”. It would start out as a simple question but, if you refused, they would turn to whatever worked. Floyd would probably threaten to squeeze you and Jade would be expected to manipulate you into thinking you had no choice.

“You will take off of work tomorrow,” Azul said, “I expect to see her either playing for us or not playing at all.”

—---------------------------

You strolled to the bench in front of the Mostro Lounge, where a crowd had already gathered, eagerly awaiting your performance. This time, Floyd and Jade occupied the very front row.

A student from Heartslabyul dorm (Cater, he’s pretty sure) handed you a guitar. Not the red-and-white electric guitar from the first performance Jade had seen, but a regular wooden one. He tried to stuff down his eagerness to see you use a different instrument, but an involuntary smile still made its way to his face. This guitar fits you better. He couldn’t help but think. It’s softer, gentler. Just like you.

He felt heat rushing to his cheeks and desperately willed it away. Why did he react this way to you? You were supposed to be below him, but his heart insisted on the opposite. Grimly, he realized that he must have a crush on you. How foolish could he be?

Floyd’s eager grin, pink cheeks, and lidded eyes told Jade all he needed to know. His twin was just as smitten with you as he was. There was no way Floyd would be willing to threaten you, Jade realized, so it would be up to him to manipulate you.

The very thought caused a lump to form in his throat.

He was torn from his thoughts as you started to strum your guitar, the crowd falling silent so they could hear you play another song from your homeworld.

“Don't be upset or mad at all. Don't feel regret or sad at all.”

Jade was shocked to see your pretty smile gone, replaced by a quivering frown. The lyrics you had just sang sunk in and he felt like his heart had been pierced by a dagger.

“And I'm fine, I am totally fine.” You don’t sound fine.

“I will stand on the side as you shine.” Are you talking about your lack of magic?

“I'm not fine, I'm not fine.” I want to make you feel better, but I don’t know how.

You went on to sing about wanting what sounded like magic. Jade knew, deep in his heart, that you were singing about yourself. Poor you, this affected you more than he thought.

He felt ashamed of all his previous thoughts. Ashamed of the way he looked down on you for your lack of magic. It isn’t your fault, is it? You never asked to be brought here. All you want is to go home.

The headmaster clearly wasn’t working on finding your homeworld and, with a jolt of surprise, he realized he felt lighter at the thought. He didn’t want you to go home.

He turned to Floyd and was startled to see tears shining in his eyes. He had never seen Floyd even close to crying, but here they both were, feeling like they were being torn in two for a mere human with not an ounce of magic to her name.

“Am I too late for a miracle?” you finished, a tear slipping down your cheek.

Poor, precious you.

You sang a few other songs, ones that brought your shining smile back to your pretty face. Jade and Floyd listened, enraptured by your performance. Finally, you announced that you were done for the day, much to the displeasure of the crowd.

The twins waited until the crowd had dispersed, with most of them entering the Mostro Lounge and the rest heading back to their dorms. You had handed the guitar back to Cater and were sitting on the bench, panting a little from all the singing you had done.

Jade and Floyd approached you, both struggling to act as natural as possible. Jade smiled at you and put a hand over his heart, as he often did. This time, however, he could feel how fast his heart was pounding under the skin. Floyd put one hand behind his head and gave you a lazy smile. Jade didn’t miss the way your eyes flickered to his brother’s sharp teeth with a wary look.

“Can I help you guys?” You asked, tilting your head to the side like a curious puppy.

Adorable.

“Hey Shrimpy!” Floyd said lazily, his smile growing even wider, revealing even more razor-sharp teeth.

“Azul has an offer to give you,” Jade replied smoothly.

You wrinkled your nose, “If it’s another contract, forget it.”

“It is not a contract,” Jade said. Then, an idea popped into his head. A devious, dangerous idea, “Why don’t we talk in private? Please, follow us.”

Floyd gave him a confused side glance but Jade gave a nearly imperceptible shake of the head. He didn’t need to say a word for his brother to understand what he was planning. A perk of being twins, perhaps.

You nodded and, when Jade and Floyd began to lead the way, you obediently followed them. All the way to their dorm.

You looked a little confused when they let you in, looking at the two beds across from each other. You gave them a look that clearly asked “Why am I here?”

“Please, take a seat. Make yourself comfortable,” Jade said.

You walked over to one of the beds and sat down, looking at them with suspicion. Jade noticed, victoriously, that it was his bed you had decided to sit on. From Floyd’s noticeable pout, he had realized the same thing.

“Azul would simply like it if you played for the Mostro Lounge. You will be compensated for your time, of course,” Jade explained.

You shook your head, “I just like singing for fun. I want to sing songs from my homeworld. Working in the lounge would be too restrictive, wouldn’t it? I’d be expected to play popular songs from this world, no doubt.”

This was the moment where Jade was supposed to give you ultimatums, lie and tell you that you weren’t allowed to perform on “their” property, or convince you with empty promises and sugar sweet words.

That wasn’t going to happen.

Jade covered his smile with one hand and quirked one of his eyebrows in a playful way, “You really like looking at the ground, don’t you? You should make eye contact when speaking.”

Immediately, your head shot up. No doubt you felt self-conscious about your little habit.

You had fallen right into Jade’s trap.

As soon as you made eye contact with him, he calmly said “Shock the Heart”. Your pretty little eyes instantly glazed over, still staring into his own.

“This will be fun,” Jade purred. He knew he had to be careful what he asked you, since this would be his only chance. He couldn’t use his signature spell on someone more than once, after all.

“What do you think of Floyd and I?” Jade asked.

“You scare me,” you replied.

Ouch.

“Did you see us in the crowd while you sang?”

“Yes.”

“Did you look into our eyes?”

“Probably.”

“How much do you miss your homeworld?”

“Very much.”

Jade felt bad for you, he really did.

But he was now ready to get into the more amusing questions.

“How would you feel if you were trapped in this room forever?”

“I would be scared and upset,” you replied, pure honesty in every answer. You had no choice, after all.

Floyd caught on and snickered, walking over to their door and locking it, then reaching for the chain lock that you likely couldn’t reach easily, if at all.

“What would you do if we trapped you here?”

“Fight and try to escape.”

“Hmm,” Jade hummed. Floyd was already a few steps ahead. He pulled your wrists behind your back and ripped off a generous strip of duct tape. All Jade had to do was distract you a little while longer.

“Will you play for us, if we get you a guitar?”

“I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Jade couldn’t help but laugh when his twin brother leaned into your neck and sunk his teeth in. You didn’t flinch- you couldn’t flinch. Not when you were still under Jade’s spell.

It would hurt later, no doubt.

Not one to be left out, Jade leaned into the other side of your neck, breathily asking another question, “What are you most afraid of?”

You told Jade calmly while he sank his razor-sharp teeth into your neck, pulling away only to lap at the blood that welled up from the wound. Floyd had already finished duct taping your feet together.

Jade pushed you over so you were lying on his bed. It was the least he could do to make you comfortable.

He released you from his spell and, before you could scream out in terror or agony, Floyd slapped a piece of duct tape across your mouth. You squirmed around helplessly, looking up at them with fearful, pained eyes.

Floyd looked down at you and started to giggle hysterically. Jade couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, even with the pity he felt for you. He reached over to brush away the tears streaming down your face, still chuckling.

“Welcome to your new home, Shrimpy,” Floyd said.

“Yes, welcome home,” Jade said.

If you were afraid of them before, that was nothing compared to now.

Here is what I wrote down at 1 am: Reader’s a boss on the guitar (borrowed from Ace and Cater) when singing hot metal of Unravel because hell yeah she looks into their eyes and boom they’re in love. They think you want them. Azul offers her a job but she’s like no contracts lol loser. On another day she sings Waiting on a Miracle and their hearts break because sounds like her situation amirite? So they want to comfort her but don’t know how but they also love you like crazy lmao. Kidnap is the next logical step of course lmao they’ll make you happy or something idk figure out the ending tomorrow gurl.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere one shot #one shot #yandere floyd leech #yandere jade leech #jade leech #floyd leech #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland

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butdaddyilovehim-hs · 9 months

Text

The Divorce: Part III

Word Count: <;3k

Warnings: slight smut, explicit language

Read Part II here

“So it seems you’re considering my offer after all.”

“What if I was? What then?” Wine made Y/N bolder than normal.

“Well Miss Williams, I would say we would need to discuss the details in person.”

“Now? I don’t even know where you live and you sure as hell aren’t coming to my place.” Y/N slurred slightly, her head spinning from the alcohol.

“Have you been drinking?” Harry’s tone was stern, but Y/N was anything but frightened. She chuckled quietly, imagining the reprimanding look on his face.

“Slow down, Mr Styles, I haven’t agreed to anything. You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

“You’re right, I don’t. Not yet.”

“Maybe not ever!” Y/N singsonged, spinning the stem of her wine glass between her fingertips. “You see Harry, you seem to need me a lot more than I need you. Go on. Convince me.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you if you’re inebriated.”

“My goodness, you’re so serious all the time. What could you offer me that I can’t get elsewhere?”

“Mind-blowing sex.” He deadpanned and Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I can basically hear you rolling your eyes Miss Williams. I’d suggest you learn to keep yourself under control before we begin our little arrangement. It’s in your best interests.”

Y/N gulped nervously, recovering as fast as she could.

“Again, Mr Styles, I haven’t agreed to anything.”

“That’ll change tomorrow. I’ll be over at around 8am. Hopefully you’re presentable by then. Goodnight Miss Williams.” With that, he hung up the phone.

Y/N groaned to herself before relaxing into her couch. Harry didn’t even know where she lived, there wasn’t a chance he would be at her place in the morning. At 8am on a Sunday no less.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure when she had fallen asleep but what she did know was:

1) She should still be sleeping

2) Whoever was knocking at her door at this ungodly hour probably had a death wish.

Y/N let out a frustrated shriek as the knocking continued, slapping a hand over her face and rubbing her eyes. She got up off the couch and walked over to the door in a sleepy haze.

“Lauren, you have a key, I don’t understand why you insist on knocking every time you-“ Y/N froze as she swung open the door to a perfectly pressed suit, looking down to shoes so shiny she could basically see her face in them.

“Oh my god.” Y/N muttered in shock before promptly shutting the door in his face. She was half convinced she was dreaming so she opened it again to make sure Harry was really there. He was.

“Nope. Not today.” She said, almost to herself, closing the door again. Before it swung shut she caught sight of his bewildered expression that morphed into one of slight annoyance as the wood closed in front of him.

“Miss Williams, I told you I would be here at this time. Is there a reason you’re so surprised or is it simply because you were too drunk to remember our conversation last night?” His voice was muffled slightly behind the door but she could hear his exasperated tone quite clearly.

“No… I remember. I was just hoping it was a dream because I don’t really wanna have this conversation today.”

“I am in fact not a dream. It is rather cold out here so I would appreciate it if I could come inside.”

“You’re going to need to wait out there for a bit while I make myself presentable. It’s not fair that I look like this and you look like that at this hour. On. A. SUNDAY.” Y/N gestured animatedly in front of herself before realising that he couldn’t even see her anyway.

“I don’t really understand what the day of the week has to do with this Miss Williams.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’re not listening to what I’m saying. Ugh. Fine! Come in. Close your eyes, I’m in my pyjamas.” Y/N opened the door again, immediately reaching a hand up to cover his eyes.

“Close my eyes? Why on earth is this necessary. My my, you are one for dramatics.”

“I’m one for dramatics? Ok Mr “be my submissive” Y/N snorted at her poor attempt of his accent. Harry removed her hand from his face, staring at her impatiently.

“Are you going to continue acting like a child or are we going to have a conversation?”

His tone sobered Y/N up and she nodded before ushering him over to her couch and hurrying to her room to change. Harry took in his surroundings while he waited for her. Her apartment was so perfectly her. It was cozy, with books that had obviously been read more than once lining shelves around her small apartment. It was colourful and bright - far different to the space Harry was used to in his own home.

He had been waiting for just over ten minutes, when the door to Y/N’s bedroom opened, and she emerged wearing a pale yellow sundress, her hair brushed into a neat ponytail that hung well below her shoulders.

“Good morning.” She muttered, sitting beside him, her eyes downcast.

“Y/N, love. Look at me.” Harry said quietly. Her gaze stayed on the floor, focusing on a small piece of lint she had found on the carpet.

“Darling, please.” He gripped her chin softly with one hand, tilting it upwards so she looked him in the eye.

“That’s better. Now I can see your pretty face sweetheart.”

“You can’t call me things like that Harry. It makes me feel…” Y/N trailed off, relaxing slightly into his grip.

“Makes you feel what?”

“Special.” She mumbled.

“You are special Y/N. That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s the first time you’ve called me by my name.” Y/N pointed out, smiling to herself. She liked the way it sounded with his accent. Harry ignored her.

“I’d like to get to know you and frankly I’m extremely attracted to you. But, I’m going to be completely honest… I’m not looking for a relationship. I never used to before Sofia and we both know how that turned out. I’d like us to have an… arrangement of sorts.”

“What kind of an arrangement? Can I see other people? Am I supposed to call you sir?” The third statement came out in a mocking tone and Harry simply smirked, reaching up to the hair that had escaped her ponytail, tucking it behind her ear. Y/N gasped as he touched her, her reaction not going unnoticed.

“Well I’d prefer if you didn’t. I won’t see anyone else either. To answer your other question, I wouldn’t mind sir. Not opposed to daddy either.” He smirked again as Y/N’s jaw dropped.

“I-”

“I’ll email you through a list of rules later tonight so you have them in writing, as well as a contract to sign. I’ll sign it as well. If you have any hard limits we can discuss them so we’re never doing anything you’re uncomfortable with. I do however, want to broaden your horizons, show you ways to feel good like you’ve never thought of before. This is about pleasure - for the both of us. In addition, you’ll accompany me to events to deter the unwanted female attention. In the eyes of the rest of the world, you’re my girlfriend.” Harry explained.

“And if I wanted to take you to an event? My parents will ask about you, especially if the media is going to report on our relationship.”

“I don’t do children’s birthday parties Miss Williams, so I don’t see what events you would need me for. It’s important that you understand that I’m not actually going to be your boyfriend. Whatever you decide to tell your parents is up to you. Lie or twist the truth, but the details of our arrangement are between the two of us.” He said, somewhat sternly.

“Right. Ok.” Y/N acquiesced. It wasn’t the time for that discussion.

“How do you feel about a trial run? Before you agree to anything, we can experiment. See if you like it.” Harry questioned, looking at her intently.

Y/N took a deep breath, trying to gather her thoughts amid the whirlwind of emotions and thoughts that were racing through her mind. She never expected the morning to take such a turn, but the allure of stepping into the unknown with a man as enigmatic and attractive as Harry was undeniably tempting. Her curiosity outweighed her reservations, and she nodded.

”Alright, a trial run," she said softly, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "But remember, no pressure, Mr. Styles. I might need some time to adjust to all of this."

Harry's lips curled into a smirk, and he leaned in closer. "Of course, darling. We'll take it slow, and I promise to respect your boundaries.”

Y/N's heart pounded in her chest as she felt Harry's warm breath against her cheek. His proximity was both intimidating and electrifying, but she was determined to see where this would lead. She bit down on her bottom lip, then exhaled, gathering her thoughts.

“Okay. Let’s do this."

Harry moved closer to her, moving her hair out of her face. Her breath hitched and he couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the effect he had on her.

“When was the last time you had sex?” His fingers began rubbing circles on her wrist, his touch distracting her from the simple question.

“Um. A couple months ago? It was a one night stand, nothing special.”

“When was the last time you had an orgasm?”

“Two nights ago.”

“And what were you thinking about?”

“You.” Y/N said boldly. Harry’s eyes darkened, leaning slightly closer to her.

“Really? What about me? What were you imagining me doing to you?” His lips ghosted her ear and Y/N shuddered, her eyes fluttering closed.

“I… I don’t-”

“Don’t be shy, tell me what you were thinking about. I want to know what you like.” Harry coaxed.

“I was wondering what it would feel like to have you eat me out. Then to have you fuck me with your fingers until I came, before you used your cock.” Y/N confessed. She could feel her arousal soaking through her underwear, and she squirmed, pressing her thighs together, looking for friction. Harry groaned, his cock hardening in his pants.

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered in her ear. Y/N nodded.

“Words, darling. I’m going to need you to use them.”

“Yes, please just do something I-” Harry cut her off, attaching his lips to hers in a bruising kiss. He quickly took control, his mouth moving with hers. She tasted like strawberries and summer all rolled into one. Her hands found his hair, tugging slightly. Harry pulled back, and Y/N followed chasing his mouth, whimpering when he moved away.

“No touching unless I say so. We haven’t established the rules yet so I’m willing to let it slide for today.”

“Ok I understand Harry.”

“Try again.”

“I understand, sir.”

“Better.” Harry was quick to pull her back in, exploring her mouth with his tongue. He pulled Y/N up and then she was straddling him. He stood, her legs wrapping around his torso, and carried her through the door he had deduced was Y/N’s bedroom. He tossed her, rather unceremoniously onto the bed, before stepping back and removing his jacket, rolling the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. Y/N’s mouth watered as tattoos she had never seen before were exposed.

“Take it off.” He said to her, motioning to her dress. Y/N brought it up and over her head, tossing it to the floor. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that Harry was still fully clothed and she was in her bra and underwear. Y/N crossed her arms over herself, feeling rather self conscious. Compared to what he was used to with Sofia, Y/N felt that she could hardly live up to the other woman’s beauty.

“Please don’t hide from me. You’re gorgeous.” Harry said, placing a quick peck to her lips before kissing his way down her body. He gave soft kisses to her inner thighs, leaving Y/N a writhing mess beneath him. He was so close to where she wanted him and yet so far away. Without warning Harry thrust a finger inside her and Y/N gasped at the sudden intrusion, arching her back.

“You’re so wet. This all for me?” “You know it’s for you. I need… oh fuck!”

Harry added a second finger, moving them in and out slowly at first, getting faster as he found a good rhythm. Y/N whimpered when he found her g-spot, fucking herself on his fingers. He held her down with one hand, watching as she threw her head back and closed her eyes.

“Eyes on me love.” He muttered, curling his fingers inside her. Y/N whimpered but kept her eyes shut and her head back - it just felt too good.

“Y/N. I said eyes on me. Eyes on me or I stop.”

Y/N whined loudly, forcing her eyes open and tilting her head up to look at him, as he continued pumping his fingers into her.

“That’s better, good girl. Fuck, you sound so pretty baby. Still want me to taste you?” “God Harry please.”

He held back the part of him that wanted to correct her on saying his name and blew softly on her pussy, stilling his fingers inside of her. Y/N writhed beneath him, sighing out frustratedly.

“Relax sweetheart. I’ll take care of you, just gotta be patient f’me.”

A/N: 👀

Tags:

@lukesaprince @harrys-flower @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-1994 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrl @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @narry-heart

#harry styles #hslot #love on tour #harrystyles #harry styles au #harry styles ceo #harry styles smut #harry styles x fem!reader #harry styles fic #harry styles fics #harry styles writings #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles love on tour #fine line #harrys house

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desperatecheesecubes · 2 years

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It would be so funny if, instead of recording a heartfelt message, Jason just called Bruce a bitch one last time

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sihtricfedaraaahvicius · 11 months

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Hey, you just posted my request about Reader from the future and medieval Sihtric. And let me tell you, girl, you've exceeded all my expectations. I can't wait for the next part! I'm smitten haha. Love all the changes and touches you added. I have no words but Thank you.

I love how you wrote me this message just in time so I can use it to post the next part. Thank you for your kind words! I once again hope you will enjoy this one until I have the next part ready to publish ;)

Warnings: a little suggestive again, not much else.

Pairing: Sihtric x modern!you (f)

Summary: part two of this request. You try to accept your new reality and Sihtric was always closer than you thought.

Word count: 3k

Note: /

Taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylas-the-grim @heimtathurs @bubbles-for-all-of-us @valeskafics

Chapter 2.

'Burn the place.'

*******************

Sihtric had taken you to meet and speak with his lord, Uhtred. Turned out the man really was a Lord, and you had to say you were a little disappointed that your sex dungeon fantasy would not become a reality.

Lord Uhtred was joined by an Irish man called Finan and a monk called Osferth, but the Irish man said the monk's name was 'baby monk'.

After hours of conversation you eventually all agreed and believed that, somehow, you had travelled back in time. You told them what year you came from, to which everyone was a little superstitious of and spooked at for a while, as they had just dealt with some woman called Skade, something to do with a curse, you couldn't remember what exactly they had said, except that Finan said you looked better than the previous witch. It took you a while to convince them that you had no bad intentions and were just as confused as they were.

You made it clear that you really didn't want to be there, and all you wanted was to just go back home as soon as possible. And unbeknownst to you, those words had smashed Sihtric's heart into smithereens.

Uhtred told you that he had no idea how to bring you back, if that was even possible, but regardless, he said you could stay in Coccham, and you were offered to help the Lady Gisela, Uhtred's wife, who had recently given birth and could use extra help around the house. You felt like you were to become a slave or something, but you had nowhere to go, so you reluctantly agreed before you stormed off.

*****************

Sihtric had followed you quickly, and found you hidden away, curled up in his cloak, next to a small enclosure that held a few sheep and he sat down next to you. He was quietly fidgeting with his rings, looking down at his feet as you wiped your last tears away after the heavy conversation.

'You really wish to leave, my lady?' he asked eventually, his voice soft and hurt.

'I don't belong here, Sihtric,' you shrugged, 'of course I want to go back home.'

He was silent again for a while.

'Is it better where you come from?'

'I wouldn't say it's better,' you scoffed, 'the world is still a shit show in 2023.'

You looked at Sihtric and found him frowning at you with a slight smile.

'A… shit show, lady?' he chuckled.

'Yeah,' you smiled, knowing he probably hadn't heard that term before, 'it means that… there is still a lot of chaos.'

'I understand now,' he said, and his heart was beating with such force upon seeing your smile, he thought he wouldn't live to see another day.

'I'm not saying that it's bad to be here,' you continued, 'but I have nothing here, and no one, really. No home, no friends, no money, I don't even have decent clothes,' you buried your face in your hands out of frustration.

'I- I can,' Sihtric stammered, 'I wish to look after you, lady. I can take care of you.'

'Take care of me?' you frowned, 'I don't need to be taken care of, Sihtric,' you said harshly as you got up. You took off his cloak and threw it into his lap before you walked away, leaving Sihtric behind, completely bewildered for a moment.

Finan had watched the event unfold from a distance and walked over to Sihtric as you walked away. Finan whistled softly as he nudged Sihtric's shoulder with his knee.

'Ye kept all that hidden from us under yer cloak?' the Irish man grinned as he watched you walk away, all fishnet tights and ripped dress.

'Don't even think about it,' Sihtric huffed as he got up, running after you like a little puppy.

You felt a little offended. Back home, you had built a successful jewellery business all by yourself, you didn't need anyone to take care of you, as if you were some helpless little thing. You murmured to yourself while you had no idea where you were walking to, and you glanced over your shoulder when you heard someone rapidly approach. You rolled your eyes at the sight of Sihtric. Yes, he was adorable and meant well, but you were simply overwhelmed by everything. You didn't want to answer any more questions.

'Lady,' Sihtric called behind you, 'lady, wait.' You stopped and turned to him.

'Sihtric, please, I-'

'You shouldn't be out here dressed like that,' Sihtric said shyly, pushing his cloak in your hands again, 'other men,' he hesitated, 'they will look.'

You frowned, 'Yeah, that's another thing men still do in my day. So?' You held his cloak and you fought the urge, but you were freezing, so you quickly hid underneath the warm fur again as he spoke to you.

'I- I don't want them to look at you, lady, not the way I know they will.'

'Isn't it the same way you look at me?' you raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms, which he couldn't even see, as the cloak was way too big for you, covering you entirely, neck to toes.

'Maybe,' Sihtric mumbled, 'but… but I found you. I saw you first, lady,' he showed his adorable smile again.

Found you first? What did that mean? Did he think you belong to him now? Was finding a woman in the woods the medieval olympics and they get to keep you as a price? Was he claiming you? You surely weren't going to be claimed by anyone. You gave him a mean look, but your body betrayed you when you felt yourself blush lightly at his words. He was right in a way, he had found you, and he had been helping you, and… he was still so damn cute.

'You don't want them to see me?' you questioned him again.

'No, lady, not like that,' he said shyly again and looked down at his feet.

You decided to taunt him, probably your coping mechanism coming out, by sticking out your fishnet covered leg from underneath his cloak, 'You mean… you don't want any other man to see this?' you fluttered your eyelashes as you slowly pulled the cloak higher up your thigh.

Sihtric's eyes grew wide upon seeing your uncovered leg and he swallowed hard as his cheeks coloured. That boy definitely had a leg kink, you chuckled lightly to yourself.

'Or... do you not want to see this?' smiled playfully, pretending to drop the cloak back over your leg, but you stopped your movement when Sihtric began to speak.

'No, I- I do, I… I mean, no, I-' Sihtric couldn't bring out much more, his mind was simply clouded with all the things he'd do for you, just so you'd allow him to kiss your legs up and down completely. Gods, he was desperate for your legs.

'So you are allowed to see it, but no one else is? I understand now,' you grinned and fully covered yourself again.

Sihtric shifted uncomfortably and couldn't look you in the eyes right now. And as he looked down at his feet again, he told you it's best to go to the Lady Gisela, she will have clean and warm clothes for you. He pointed you in the right direction before he shuffled away, awkwardly wishing you a good day and apologising if he had offended you today.

****************

Lady Gisela was pleasantly kind. Uhtred had informed her about you already and she never questioned you or your appearance, instead, she immediately gave you a few of her own dresses you could keep. You cleaned yourself up while a servant made you some food. You had to laugh when you remembered that the food you were given, bread, cheese and some wine, was considered peasant food in your day, while you actually loved it. You felt a little better after everything and enjoyed Gisela's company.

You asked her where you were supposed to stay, and she told you that Uhtred already arranged a small but cosy house for you to stay at. It was across the town, and as it was already dark out, Gisela asked Clapa to walk you to your new home. Clapa was a huge man of little words, but friendly nonetheless.

After a short walk you found your house. And it was small, yes, but it had a bed, buckets to get water to wash yourself with, a table, some chairs, a little kitchen with a cooking pot and a bunch of furs in front of the fire pit. A fire pit! What a luxury. You didn't even have a fire pit back home, which you always wanted.

The place had everything you needed, and for a moment you felt like you were on holiday. But that feeling quickly faded when you instinctively reached for your backpocket, which Gisela's dress obviously didn't have, to find your phone, which you also didn't have.

And you hated to admit it, but you cried yourself to sleep that night, feeling scared, lost, confused and very lonely. And you secretly wished that Sihtric, the sweet boy he was, had been by your side at that moment.

***************

You woke up at the crack of fucking dawn when a rooster woke up the entire Burh. You had no idea what time it was, as clocks weren't a thing and neither were phones. You sighed when you realised it wasn't all a dream and you were still stuck in Coccham. But you decided to try and make the best of it. You got up and picked one of Gisela's pretty dresses to wear.

You wanted to wash your face before you went over to Gisela, to assist her with her newborn. When you looked outside, it seemed as if it was still freezing and you remembered you still had Sihtric's cloak, which you wrapped yourself in before you grabbed the large bucket and went to find a water source.

As you closed your front door and turned to walk away you immediately saw Sihtric. A sudden adrenaline rushed through your body and you felt flustered. He was still cute this early in the morning, whereas you probably looked like a goblin. Nevertheless, Sihtric's face lit up as soon as he saw you.

'Lady,' he smiled widely as he came over, 'you live there?'

'Eh, yeah, I suppose I do now,' you chuckled, awkwardly carrying the large bucket with you, 'why?'

'I- I live here,' the boy pointed to the house behind him, which was, of course, right across from yours. You could literally look into each other's windows if you pulled away the fabrics that made for curtains.

'Oh,' you said, not unpleasantly surprised, 'well, that's… close.'

'I know,' Sihtric smiled, 'so, i-if you ever need anything-'

'I'll know where to find you, yes,' you smiled back, 'thank you.'

'How did you sleep?'

'I slept… a little.'

'It's something,' he said, 'do you need help with that?' Sihtric pointed at the empty bucket.

'I just wanted to get some water, is there a well somewhere?'

'There is,' Sihtric said, 'but it's frozen.'

'Oh.'

'You'll have to go to the river.'

'How far is the river?'

'The whole journey? Half a day's walk.'

'What?'

'Half a day-'

'Yeah, I heard you,' you said, stunned, 'I don't have time for that. Gisela expects me soon.'

'I still have some water left,' Sihtric said quickly, 'you can use what I have, I will take my horse and fetch more water later. For you as well, if you wish?'

'Are you sure?'

'Of course, lady.' And his sweet smile appeared again before he disappeared inside his house.

You waited, a little flustered still, until he soon came back out and handed you the bucket with clean water. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the bucket out of his hands, and for a moment you feared you'd spill the water all over your dress, but luckily, you managed to compose yourself in time. You thanked him and made your way inside, fixing yourself up as best as you could before you went to the Lady Gisela.

****************

Your day with Gisela was nice but quite uneventful. You helped her with the baby, not that you had any experience, but the Lady didn't seem to notice that and gladly handed you the little child as she took care of her own tasks. You were basically a medieval babysitter. And before you left, Gisela told you to have dinner with her and Uhtred. You had pleasant conversations with them, especially with Gisela, who was not very focused on the fact you came from the future. She just wanted to get to know you, as a person, and she didn't seem to judge. You felt Gisela was a very free spirited woman, which surprised you, seeing the year you were in.

After dinner, Uhtred gave you one coin of silver, which you thanked him for, having no idea what to do with it.

By the time you went home it was dark once again, so Clapa escorted you back. It was winter, so the light made place for darkness rather early, but you still had no idea what time it was and it felt incredibly disorientating. It made you dizzy when you thought about it for too long.

You shivered at the harsh winter cold and you suddenly felt bad about still having Sihtric's cloak, he must be cold too and you didn't know if he had a spare. When you arrived at your house, you saw there was a faint glow shining through Sihtric's curtains, and you decided to return his cloak once Clapa couldn't see you anymore.

Your 2023 brain made you search for a doorbell, but when you remembered that those things didn't exist, you knocked. After a few long seconds Sihtric opened the door, surprised but happy to see you. You told him you felt bad about his cloak and handed it back to him, which he initially didn't want to accept, but you simply insisted. He then told you he had fetched you water, and the bucket was next to your door, it would be frozen now so he told you to bring it inside and place it near the fire pit. You thank him for his advice and you felt yourself smile as you walked into your own home.

After a few hours of warming yourself near the fire, you went to bed. Only to be awoken at some point by a weird scratching sound. You thought you had imagined it and tried to fall back asleep, until the sound occurred again, louder this time. You jumped up and lit a few candles as fast as you could. You really wished you had a flashlight right now, but alas. You took the one candle and followed the scratching sound. It led you to your little kitchen, under the kitchen to be more specific, and suddenly you laid eyes upon a huge, round, brown rat. And the scream that left your mouth was demonic. You almost dropped the candle as you ran over to your bed. You jumped up on it, panicked, not knowing how to rid your home of that creature. Until you remembered Sihtric. He lived across and had told you that if you needed anything… and you needed something now. In all your panic you didn't even get properly dressed and you ran outside in your halloween dress, which you used to sleep in now, and you rapidly knocked on his door.

It took a moment before Sihtric opened the door, and when he did, you were greeted by his sleepy face, his messy hair along with his shirtless and very muscular torso. And it may have been winter, but your body temperature went up to the Bahamas summer heat at the sight of him.

'Lady?' his voice was raspy from sleep, which did not help you cool off.

'There- t- there is a- a,' you stammered, 'a rat! In my home! There is a rat!'

'A rat?' Sihtric asked, a little confused.

'I need you to get rid of it!'

'What?'

'Sihtric, please! I am terrified. It needs to leave!'

Sihtric blinked rapidly a few times and groaned lightly, 'y-yeah, okay. I, uh, let me grab my boots.'

It wasn't much later until you followed closely behind Sihtric as he inspected your house, holding a candle. Luckily, he saw the rat too, and agreed it was a large one. As he was about to try and chase it away, you suddenly saw another rat appear, to which you screamed and clung onto Sihtric's broad shoulders, which he didn't seem to mind much.

'Oh, god! Another one!' you cried. Sihtric couldn't help but chuckle at your fear, and he made it worse by saying you probably have a nest in your home somewhere.

'Burn the place.'

'What?'

'Burn it!' you said, 'all of it! The whole house!'

'Lady,' Sihtric smiled, 'you can't just burn your house because of some rats.'

'I am not staying here! I- I am leaving.'

'Where to?' he frowned, clearly amused.

'I-,' you paused, 'I don't know. To Gisela!'

'They don't have room for another person after their newborn,' Sihtric smiled.

'Oh, god! I don't know, I just have to go!' you exclaimed and ran out the door.

Sihtric was quick to follow and grabbed your hand, pulling you back towards him with a little force, causing your hands to settle on his bare chest. And what a feeling that was.

'Listen, little goddess,' Sihtric spoke softly, and your insides completely melted, 'calm down,' he hushed you as his hands settled on your upper arms, 'I guess, if you want… you can sleep over at my place for the night. Tomorrow, when there's more light, I will rid your home of the rats. Okay?'

'O-okay,' you mumbled.

You just wanted to get away from the nasty creatures, you had no intention of staying over with him, but you didn't mind it at all. That is also why you were a little disappointed when you realised Sihtric would not sleep in his bed with you. He was to sleep on the floor, while you took his bed. You thought it was sweet, and not the kind of behaviour you were used to by men. And for a moment you thought maybe living here wasn't that bad afterall. Except, you really wouldn't have minded if he had tried to fuck you that night. But he didn't, causing you to lie awake for hours, a little frustrated.

The next morning when that damn rooster woke you up again, you noticed Sihtric was gone. And as you peeked through his curtains, you saw he was in your home, getting rid of the rats. And when he returned to you, he confirmed there had been a nest living under your kitchen, but he also reassured you that they were all gone now, to which you joked that he should add a few new lines onto his fingers, which he thought was funny, and made him adore you even more.

You thanked him with a quick kiss on his cheek before you ran off to the Lady Gisela. You didn't want to be late. And you left Sihtric behind with red cheeks, trembling hands and a huge smile on his face.

#sihtric x reader #sihtric x you #the last kingdom fic #sihtric fic #sihtric kjartansson #the last kingdom #sihtric #tlk

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writercole · 11 months

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Manspreading

Summary: Public transportation comes with many potential hazards, including sharing a seat with someone you don't like.

Squares: Sat in their lap - spnfluff // Neighbors - Resa's 3k

Words: 2371

Warnings: Innuendo, Jake's cocky ass.

Credits: @ryebecca for the idea. @princessmisery666 for the beta and the squeal.

A/N: This was borne out of Bees complaining about riding with men on the subway. It didn't take long to figure out that it was a rivals to lovers. Gotta listen to the characters. It's their story after all.

It had been the longest day of my life. Traipsing up and down floors in LouBoutain pumps killed me, I hadn’t slept the night before, and lunch was a snickers bar. So when I walked onto my train and found that there were two empty seats beneath some jackass’s manspread legs, I snapped.

I walked right over and sat on his lap. How I didn’t chicken out halfway there confounded me.

“Excuse me, this seat is taken,” his voice rumbled in my ear. I froze immediately. I knew that voice.

“Well, Jacob, if you weren’t manspreading across three seats, I wouldn’t have to be sitting here,” I spat, not turning to meet his eyes.

“Come on, darlin, you knew you were just looking for an excuse to ride my thigh,” he drawled. I knew I’d see a cocky smirk on his face and refused to look at him.

Instead I shut my eyes and growled, regretting several decisions that led me here.

“Oh, that was sexy. Do it again.”

My eyes snapped open and I finally met his gaze, finding exactly the expression I expected, the one he used on female clients to get them to swoon and give him anything he wanted, a smug charm that made my stomach flip. “If you’d just move your leg, I’d be out of your hair.”

I wasn’t prepared for him to bounce his leg like I wasn’t sitting on it , like I weighed nothing. God I hate this man.

“I am not in the mood to play games with you, Seresin,” I grumbled. “I have had a long ass day, these heels are killing me, and I haven’t had anything but a Snickers bar and a protein shake all day.”

“Then I guess you have to let me buy you dinner.” The way he winked at me made my panties dampen and skin burn. I refused to let him know that, though.

“I’ve had enough of your insufferable face at work today, thanks.”

“Insufferable, huh? I bet I could change your mind in one night.”

I looked him up and down and leaned in close, watching the amusement and victory in his eyes as our noses brushed. “In your dreams, asshole,” I whispered, pulling back with a satisfactory smirk at his bewildered stare.

Unfortunately for me, he recovered quickly.

“You’re in my dreams often enough, sweetheart. And believe me, I have no problem changing your mind there.”

“Does that line actually work?” My patience was wearing very thin.

“I’ll tell you,” he promised,” Over dinner.”

“I’m not hungry,” I shrugged. Of course at that moment my stomach decided to growl and betray me.

“You have had a protein shake and a snickers bar today,” repeated Jake, “let me buy you dinner. You can even continue to throw shade at me if you want.”

“Look, Jake,” I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose, “I really just want to go home, order a large pizza and curl up in my armchair with my favorite blanket and a good book.”

“Tomorrow, then,” he suggested, his tone persistent but with a hint of what sounded like hope. The train started to slow, preparing to stop at the next station. “This is my stop, darlin. Unfortunately, I’m going to need you to get your pretty face up.”

Maybe I was more lethargic than I thought because that trace of genuine hope had me a little dazed. So much so, I almost didn’t realize this was my stop too. How had I never seen him on the train before?

“Dinner, tomorrow,” he called over his shoulder as he joined the crowd of people gathering at the doors.

I shuffled along behind them, running through everything that had transpired since I’d boarded the train. Somehow, my main competition at work took the same train and got off at the same stop and had an answer for everything I said.

I was lost in my thoughts when a shove came from behind me and I was pushed into the solid mass of the person in front of me. He whipped around and I was prepared to utter a stream of apologies until…

“You could have just said something, darlin, you didn’t have to run into me.” I just wanted to slap that grin off of his face.

“I was shoved.”

“That’s one way to get my attention, though.”

“Don’t flatter yourself.”

“You’re doing enough of that for me.”

“I didn’t realize you were into degradation, Seresin,” I snorted as I made my way towards the stairs.

“I could be into a lot of things for you.”

“You have the opposite effect on me. You could drive me out of things I was into,” I chirped as I tried to get away from him.

“Oh really? And what would those things be?” It was infuriating how easily he was keeping up with me.

“Haven’t thought about it.”

“Fine, but I bet you’ve thought about me naked,” he called.

“Oh no, am I really that transparent? I want you, I need you, oh baby, oh baby,” I sassed with a roll of my eyes, something that I’d been doing quite a lot today, and sped up through a gap, leaving him behind me.

I finally reached the top of the staircase, ready to duck into the nearest shop I could find to avoid him further until I caught sight of Conner. My ex was heading my way with his arm around a beautiful, thin, perfectly proportioned blonde. Giggling.

My eyes widened and I spun around, ready to head back into the subway, but instead found Jake cresting the top of the stairs. I grabbed his hand and pulled him close, silencing any protests when my lips met his. He hummed and his arm slid around my waist to pull me close while his other hand tangled in my hair. His tongue parted my lips expertly and he deepened the kiss, only to be interrupted by Conner calling my name.

I gave Jake a look that screamed ‘please go with it’ as I wiped my mouth and turned. “Oh, Conner, hi,” I greeted, a little light headed. Perhaps it was the lack of sustenance, but I think it had more to do with the kiss from the man standing beside him, with a smug grin and a hand firmly on the small of my back.

“Uh, hi. You, uh, you look good,” he stuttered. His focus was on Jake by my side instead of me, instead of his date.

I guess I should have been proud. Or maybe offended?

“Who’s this, sweetheart?” Jake asked, tugging me tighter to his side.

“This is my ex-boyfriend, Conner,” I introduced, “Conner, this is Jake, my boyfriend.”

“Nice to meetcha, Conner,” Jake said, extending his hand.

Conner just looked at it and then directed his attention to me. “Moving on, huh?”

“Looks like you did the same,” I quipped, turning to the blonde. “And what’s your name?”

“Alyssa,” she squeaked as she tucked herself into Conner.

“Conner, Alyssa, it was nice meeting you both, but we’re late for our reservation,” Jake interrupted. “Come on, sweetheart.”

“Nice to see you, Con,” I shrugged as I let Jake pull me away. We walked a block before I stepped out of his grip. “Thanks for that,” I told him quietly.

“It wasn’t a problem,” dismissed Jake. “But I think you should tell me what that was about over dinner.”

I sighed heavily before responding. “Fine, but I’m buying. It’s the least I can do for assaulting you.”

“That was assaulting me?” he grinned. “Where do I sign up for you to do that again?”

I just rolled my eyes before heading towards my favorite pizza shop. He caught up quickly and we walked in silence, Jake keeping his mouth uncharacteristically shut until after our orders were placed.

“So what’s the story with Conner?” he asked quietly.

“Um, so, we dated for a year,” I started, “maybe a little longer. He kept saying things about how he couldn’t wait to move in together and how excited he was that my lease was going to be up soon and maybe we should just buy a house for when we have kids. I kept thinking I’d find feelings like his one day but it never happened.

“Then, during the last charity gala, he proposed. Very publicly.” I paused for a drink. Jake was there at the gala. He knew what had happened from there.

“Ah, yeah. I remember that,” he chuckled. “That was you?”

“Mhmm.”

“That was the talk of the office until…until Jerry flubbed that presentation.”

“Anyway, I threw myself into my work and started pushing hard for that promotion. I couldn’t think of any better way to prove I was fine except succeeding in my career.”

“And you have. So why the panic?”

“I may or may not have insinuated that I could do better than him,” I admitted, avoiding his gaze.

I had no idea why I was telling Jake all of this. It’s not like I knew him, it’s not like he cared. But when I looked up, I wasn’t met with derision and mocking, I was met with a softness and understanding.

“I get it. You wanted to show him up. But why me?”

“I was honestly going to go hide in the crowd. I didn’t plan on kissing you. I didn’t even know I was doing it until you hummed.” Might as well stick with honesty.

“Oh, so it wasn’t because you decided to take me up on my offer to change your mind about me?” he teased, wagging his eyebrows at me across the table.

I laughed and shoved his arm, making him chuckle as well. It surprised me how easily conversation flowed between us. For the longest time, he’d been a bitter rival of mine and now, here he was, almost like we were friends.

This was a different side of the Jake I’d see around the office. He’d ditched his jacket and loosened his tie, even going so far as to roll up his sleeves. He talked about tv shows he watched and criticized my taste in movies with a teasing smile.

He asked questions about me and my life and friends and for every detail he learned about me, he dished out one about himself. None of it surprised me until he said he’d spent time in the Navy.

“You joined the Navy right out of high school? Why?”

“Family tradition,” he shrugged.

“So you joined the Navy because your family wanted you to, you’re in the business world because your dad forced you into a business degree. What do you do because you want to?”

“What do you do?”

“Promise not to make a joke?” I asked. I’d never had a good reaction when I revealed my hobbies.

“I will do my absolute best not to make a joke but if you tell me you’re a mime, all bets are off,” he laughed, his hands up in surrender.

“I write.”

“Why would I make a joke about you writing for a hobby?” he questioned.

“Because it’s dumb that I write stories when there are so many that I could just go read,” I explained, using the words that several people had used to devalue my likes and the way I spent my time.

“Who cares if there’s a bunch of stories you can go read? The ones you write are going to be in your own voice and reflect your own experiences,” he countered.

“Well, what do you do?”

“I draw,” he shrugged.

That surprised me. “You draw?”

“Yeah. I started in high school when I needed to escape from the insanity of the perfect world my father wanted. My art teacher said I had a talent but it never felt like something I wanted to do for other people. It was more…”

“Something you wanted to keep for yourself,” I supplied, nodding along with the words.

“Exactly!”

I checked my watch and saw that we had been in the pizza parlor for three hours. “I should probably get home. It’s getting kind of late.”

“Oh damn,” Jake exclaimed when he checked the time. “I’ll walk you home.”

“You don’t have to do that, Jake,” I protested, “You were at the office before me this morning. You have to be exhausted.”

“I don’t have to do anything,” he rebutted, “but I want to walk you home.”

I paid the bill and we stepped out into the night. The streets were closer to empty than they had been all day and the temperatures had dropped enough that it was almost chilly. A shiver crept up my spine and before I’d finished shivering Jake’s jacket enveloped me. I looked up at him, seeing him in a different light, both literally and figuratively.

“What?” he questioned. “Do I have sauce on my face?”

“You’ve surprised me at every turn tonight,” I admitted with a smile.

He just hummed as we walked along, his hands in his pockets and his jacket wrapped around me.

“This is me,” I mumbled as I drew to a stop in front of my building.

“Well, at least it’s a short walk home for me,” he quipped. I furrowed my brow and he gestured across the street. “The only dark apartment on the fourth floor.”

I looked up at my building and laughed. “Same.”

Jake joined me, his deep chuckle rumbling through the space between us. “I can’t believe we live across from each other, on the same floor.”

“Seems crazy, right?”

“Yeah, crazy. Or maybe…” he trailed off.

“Maybe?”

“Walk you to work tomorrow?” he offered.

“On one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“You don’t take up three seats with your manspreading,” I demanded, a slight smirk creeping onto my face.

“How am I going to get you back in my lap again?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out.”

He nodded, his expression contorting to one of ponderance. When his gaze met mine again, he smiled and stepped closer, his hand cupping my cheek before his lips met mine, softly asking permission for a real kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him back, melting into his warmth. He smiled softly when he pulled back, caressing my cheek with his thumb.

“I should go,” he whispered.

“Or you could stay.”

“I don’t want to rush into anything. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“Progressing from dinner to breakfast seems to be moving pretty quickly buuuuut..I’ll allow it,” I giggled. “Goodnight, Jake.”

“Night, sweetheart.”

#writercole #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman #hangman seresin #hangman businessman au #business au #neighbors #rivals to flirting #possibly more to come

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seokmthw · 1 year

Text

hydrangea | zhang hao

this is part of the zb1 flowers series!

⇢ meaning: hydrangeas represent gratitude for being understood.

⇢ pairing: hao x reader

⇢ warnings: best friends to lovers, slice of life, artist!reader, shy!hao

⇢ synopsis: befriending the shy boy in your art class leads to eventual feelings you know you have to face.

⇢ word count: 3k

⇢ note: aaaaa the first part of the zb1 flower series! writing this came so naturally to me and i think this is something that could be cannon for hao. writing for him makes me giddy sdjfsldjkff enjoy!

your tongue poked between your teeth in concentration, hand clutching the waxy, green crayon as if you feared someone would come and take it from you. eyes trained on the thick black lines of your coloring page, you neatly filling in the grass you were working on, careful not to drift outside of the lines whatsoever.

you wanted so desperately for this to be exactly how you imagined, because you planned to give it to someone who you knew didn’t have many friends and you had never seen actually talking, so you wanted to make a good first impression.

you were just finishing up, nearing the end of the grass, when someone bumped into you and caused the crayon to draw sporadically, leaving a green streak across the rest of the paper. you turned to see the culprit, taking note of your classmates, hanbin and matthew, wrestling around in the chairs next to you.

“hey!” you exclaimed. your voice was tiny, but powerful enough to get their attention,” you ruined my drawing.”

they paused momentarily and hanbin glanced down at your paper, taking note of what had happened to your otherwise flawless coloring job. he had a hopeful look in his eyes as he said, “it’s just a little mistake, y/n. it’s easy to fix!”

“i don't want it to have a mistake. i'm giving it to someone and want it to be perfect,” you pouted, bottom lip beginning to quiver and tears welling up in your eyes the more you looked at the flaw on the page.

“i can help you try and make it better,” matthew offered, reaching one of his little hands forward in an attempt to grab your drawing. you quickly yanked it away, brows furrowed in frustration, and stomped off to another table with your crayons, huffing has you sat down.

what were you going to do now? you felt a tear drip down onto your cheek as you attempted to cover it up the line as much as possible, but you could still see it. after a few more minutes of coloring, you decided it was as good as it was going to get, and set your supplies down and picked the paper back up, examining it and trying your best to make sure not to focus too much on it.

you looked around the art classroom, eyes settling on the big-eared boy you had set out to give this to from the beginning. you felt a pang of sadness as you noticed him sitting by himself at one of the tables, chin propped on his hand as he dejectedly stared at his own piece of art in front of him.

you pushed your stool back, marching over to him and plopping down beside him, catching him entirely by surprise. you looked at him, bearing your smile that was mainly gums from lost teeth, happily chirping, “hi!”

he simply just stared at you with a bewildered gaze, which you figured he would do from the beginning, so you decided to just keep talking, sliding your coloring page over to him, “i colored this for you! it has a mistake on it because of stupid hanbin and matthew, but i tried my best to cover it up.”

he shifted his gaze down to the paper, still remaining quiet, eyes trained on all of the coloring you had done in such a short amount of time. his cheeks grew red with embarrassment as he showed you his own coloring page, having done hardly anything to it. you only flashed him a smile, “it looks pretty so far! i hope you show me what it looks like when you finish it.”

he simply nodded, and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you began working on your second one for the day. you zoned in, making sure to keep an eye out for your rowdy classmates, and completely putting your crayons down each time they were anywhere near you.

as the end of the class neared, the boy had finally come to finish his work, tapping you on the shoulder to grab your attention so he could show you the finished product. your eyes lit up excitedly, “it’s so pretty, i love it!”

he appeared to be nervous, swallowing harshly before he finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, “thank you for being my friend. a lot of people think i’m weird because i’m not as outgoing as they are.”

“well they’re stupid,” you instantly replied, causing a small laugh to erupt from him, “i think you’re really nice, hao.”

“i think you’re really nice too, y/n.”

fast forward a couple of years, and you and your best friend were taking on middle school together. by now, hao had opened up a lot more to you, finally holding pleasant conversations and willingly initiating them with you. the both of you were attached at the hip, and although you had other friends you frequently talked to, you preferred the quiet presence that hao always gave you.

sure, you were outgoing, and at times you felt like you annoyed him with how much you blabbered on about everything under the sun, but he always listened to you like he was interested in everything you had to say. you appreciated that about him, because a lot of your friends did find you annoying, so you were grateful he didn’t think so.

you were now in seventh grade, both undergoing many changes to your bodies and dealing with academic pressure as your assignments got harder the more time went on. your schedules were almost completely opposite from another, only sharing one class and your lunch period together, so you didn’t get to see each other much during the day.

you sighed, gathering up your belongings as the bell rang and dismissed you to lunch. you always met up with hao at his locker so the two of you could walk there together, and the moment you rounded the corner, you felt your nostrils flare in anger. hao was pressed against his locker by a couple of boys in your grade, looking terrified as ever, as they spat horrendous things in his face.

“you’re such a freak.”

“your ears remind me of dumbo, big and stupid.”

“i don’t know how y/n is even friends with you.”

you stomped over to them, grabbing the backs of their shirts and yanking them away from hao, who looked visibly relieved that you were there. the two boys yelped in surprise, to which you shoved them toward the middle of the hallway, stepping in front of hao defiantly, “what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“nothing, y/n, we swear!” one of them was quick to exclaim, though it was hard to miss the dopey grin on his face, “we were just messing around.”

“yeah, because ‘messing around’ warrants you to put your hands on someone,” you sarcastically laughed, and by now you had gathered a small crowd, tension hanging thickly in the air.

the other boy scoffed, “why do you even stick up for this loser, anyway? do you realize how good you’d have it if you just joined the popular crowd?”

you leaned forward and slapped him, a satisfied grin breaking out on your face as you watched the way his head turned with the force of the smack, cheek lighting up in a bright red handprint. a string of oooh's from the people standing around you were able to be heard, along with the sound of a teacher’s voice filling up the air, “what’s going on here?”

despite your attempts to explain what happened, you still managed to land yourself in detention with the two of them for 3 days. hao had profusely apologized, feeling as though it was his fault because he didn’t know how to stand up for himself, but you simply laughed, telling him it was okay.

you would do anything for him.

you sat hunched over the table you were sat at, your pencil digging into the soft paper as you continued shading your current art piece, feeling proud of what had come of it so far. your high school was hosting an art fair in a couple of weeks and you had decided to create multiple pieces before deciding on what one you wanted to have on display. you were almost positive you were going to choose the painting you had finished last week, but you could never fully make a decision until you felt you had enough options.

the art room had been empty for at least an hour now, you teacher having left for a meeting, though she had trusted you enough to take care of the materials and lock up properly once you were finished. you were grateful for the silence, but not so much when hao was greeting you without first making his presence known, “whatcha doing?”

“jesus, hao!” you exclaimed, feeling your muscles tense up at the surprise, a giggle coming from you the moment you realized how silly your reaction seemed.

all the boy could do was chuckle as he slid into the chair next to you, two paper bags in his grasp, one outstretched to you, “sorry for scaring you, i just wanted to bring you lunch.”

“you didn’t have to,” you replied, gracious taking the meal from him, flashing a thankful smile.

“i know i didn’t have to,you’ve just been working so hard lately and you always take care of me, so i figured it was time to return the favor.”

you couldn’t lie, hearing those words come from him made your tummy twist a little bit. you knew you had developed feelings for him recently - or at least, you think they were recent - and him making such kind gestures toward you always made it difficult to suppress them. you were thankful he couldn’t see the blush dusting your cheeks as you turned away from him, rummaging through your bag as you stated, “that reminds me, i have something for you.”

you pulled a small canvas out of your backpack, handing it over to him with a grin, “i painted you a little something that was inspired by your most recent recital.”

hao accepted it, gaze falling to further examine what you had made. it was a detailed, almost perfect painting resembling something all too familiar to him, which was a silhouette of him playing his violin, face lit up by the lights of the stage and eyes closed as he lost himself to the music he created. his jaw hung open, eyes wide as he looked back up at you, “this is incredible.”

“you think so?” you mused, now taking a bite of the apple that was included with your lunch.

“of course i do, this is probably one of my favorites you’ve done so far,” he honestly answered, “you should submit this into the art fair.”

“i’ll think about it,” you sheepishly responded, unable to ignore the way his ears had gone red.

you could only hope it was because of you.

you knew moving in with hao during your time in college was going to be horrendous for the crush you had on him, but you still agreed to it anyway, because who were you to say no to him? besides, how bad could it actually be?

terrible, actually.

he let you set up a makeshift art studio in the living room next to one of your huge bay windows in order to keep your inspiration flowing as you progressed in your classes, and didn’t mind if you dedicated most of your afternoons to working on your things. he even bought some from you - though you had argued with him about just letting them have whatever he wanted for free - and hung it up around various parts of your apartment and his bedroom.

he was always your biggest supporter, encouraging you to keep chasing your dream of making it a full time career despite everyone around you telling you that you would never make it. he even modeled for you when you needed it, staying in the same pose for hours at a time until you were fully satisfied with what you had created.

which is what led you to where you were now, sat on your stool at your easel, back beginning to ache from sitting there for so long, and the sun filtering through the window and keeping you warm as you painted. it was an early saturday morning, and the piece you were working on was giving more of a headache than you expected, but you knew it was because you would be using it to confess your feelings to hao.

there was a huge chance things would go horribly wrong, that the years you had spent growing up with him would be ruined, but you didn’t care. you needed him to know just what kind of feelings you held for him.

as if on cue, hao shuffled into the living room, rubbing the sleepiness from his eyes, hair sitting in messy tufts on the top of his head. you swore you could feel your heart sink in your chest the moment you laid eyes on him, your mouth suddenly going dry and hands developing a slight tremor. you didn’t know why you felt so nervous, you weren’t as comfortable with anyone else in the world like you were with hao.

“morning,” he mumbled, beginning to brew himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen just off of the living room, “you’re up early,” he added.

“yeah, i couldn’t sleep. this piece has been driving me bonkers,” you admitted, and it wasn’t necessarily a lie, he just didn’t know the true reason why.

you turned back to the canvas, dipping your brush gently into the paint. a comfortable silence fell between the two of you, as it so often did in your time of being friends, and you almost didn’t hear as hao came up behind you, a second cup of coffee in hand for you, a tired smile displayed on his lips, “figured you could use some caffeine.”

and there it was - the calming, caring nature that surrounded him and that you had grown so fondly of since knowing him. you thanked him quietly, taking the mug from his grip and setting it on the table next to your easel, gaze falling down to your paint palette in order to avoid his burning stare. he scanned the painting, remaining silent for a moment longer before he questioned, “what’s this one supposed to symbolize?”

“this one is actually for you, it’s meant to show how thankful i am to you for always being so understanding of my incessant need to always be working on something,” you could feel your face begin to grow warm the moment he began looking at you instead of the painting.

his expression was almost unreadable, which was odd for the dynamic the two of you shared. he smiled at you, a soft, closed-lip one, the glimmering in his eyes hard to miss as he reciprocated, “you have no idea how lucky i am to have you in my life. you’ve helped me grow into myself, so if anyone should be grateful for the mutual understanding, it should be me.”

“hao-”

“i need to tell you something, y/n,” he interrupted you, “because it’s been eating me alive from the very moment you gave me that coloring page in elementary school.”

“i hope it’s not something i’ve done, because i can fix whatever it is,” you automatically responded, grabbing your bottom lip between your teeth, anxiety at his words getting the best of you.

he set his coffee cup down next to yours, a shaky sigh pushing out of his lungs, and he straightened up once more, one of his hands coming up to card through your hair and brush it out of your face, coming down to rest easily on your cheek. the way he looked at you is something you’ve never seen, and you worried he was about to tell you something you didn’t want to hear, but it was the complete opposite, “i love you. and not just in a friend way, as something more. i think i’m in love with you, y/n.”

you could feel your head begin to spin, so many thoughts crashing into you at once, and you couldn’t help but let out a noise and bury your face into his stomach, tears beginning to soak through the fabric of his t-shirt. you felt him tense up before he eventually rested his hand on the back of your head, holding you as close to him as he could despite you still sitting on your chair.

“i didn’t mean to make you cry, if this makes you uncomfortable we can just forget i ever said anything,” he murmured, but you were quick to shake your head, a sniffle being the only sound that he could hear from you.

finally, you pulled away, wiping beneath your eyes frantically, “i promise these are good tears,” you motioned to the painting, laughing lightly, “i was actually trying to tell you the same thing with this, but i don’t think i did that great of a job,” you looked at him, unable to prevent the beaming grin from spreading, “i love you too, hao.”

you rose to your feet, allowing the boy to engulf you in a hug, his scent filling your nostrils and arms feeling like what you imagined home would. sure, you’d hugged him before, but it never felt like this. you exhaled softly, letting him rest his chin on top of your head, a loving silence filling the air.

as long as you had each other, you knew there would always be someone in the world who knew how you felt.

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