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moonlitdesertdreams · 4 days

Text

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness" A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish. Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction. Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it.

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay.

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention.

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot.

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.”

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt..

“Cooper! What happened to you?”

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag.

“Do you have any on you?”

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm.

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly.

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied.

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach.

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem.

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes.

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again.

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead.

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems.

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.”

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so.

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless.

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in.

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy.

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper.

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up.

“You ain’t gonna share?”

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail.

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side.

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, chest pressed against his back. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth.

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache.

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

-------------------

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

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shadowtriovibes · 1 year

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Hello,

Can you write some shameless pre-relationship Sebastian x mc flirting? Like pining, comparing hand sizes, teasing about height, all that cringe cute stuff! Just go off on that however you like!

hello anon!! here's a quick 1.5k pg-rated words for you because i'd just started a little drabble of MC working at j pippin's for the summer and it turned into two goofy teens in love 🥹

edit: i felt like this deserved a name so i'm calling it "the potioneer's apprentice" and i personally love a potion-loving MC characterization very much so i may return to this 'verse later on xoxo

"I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself," you point out. Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders. "W-well, yours is better," he insists. "Always has been, even Sharp said so." "It's even better now," you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. "...You're not actually hurt, are you?" "No, just bored," he admits. "I wanted to see you."

Staring down at the order slip in your hands, you bite the inside of your cheek to keep from smiling.

Mr. Sebastian Sallow Feldcroft Hamlet

x3 Wiggenweld x1 Focus x1 Felix Felicis

“Simple enough,” Parry Pippin says cheerfully, tucking a knut into the pocket of the postal owl that had just dropped off your latest order. “I’ll put together the Liquid Luck, I know that’s a tricky one.”

Bustling over to his potions station, he adds, “I trust brewing the Wiggenweld and Focus draughts should be no problem for you?”

“Of course,” you say, quickly tying up your hair before lighting a fire beneath the cauldron at your own station.

You’ve been an apprentice at J. Pippin’s Potions for just over a month, refining your potions skills over the summer break – and helping keep an eye on things in Hogsmeade. In that time, your brewing skills have improved significantly, and Parry is more than happy to pass on some of the simpler potions to you.

Attempting to be casual, you ask, “Will this be a delivery?”

“Oh, I should think so,” Parry confirms. “Though it’s not exactly my neck of the woods.”

“Would you like me to drop it off?” you offer hopefully.

“How about this,” Parry offers. “I’ll send you down to the hamlet to drop these off, and then you can call it a day.”

“Thank you, Mister Pippin,” you say with a grin.

Your boss smiles approvingly as you carefully pour some horklump juice into your cauldron, precisely tapping the side of the bottle as he’d taught you.

“Besides,” he says cheekily. “I think this is the third time this month that young mister Sallow has ordered from my shop and requested delivery, even though Fatimah’s shop is much closer.”

You nearly spill the entire bottle.

“Any idea why a Hogwarts student on summer break would need so many potions?” Parry asks, smirking to himself as he pours some lacewing flies into his cauldron.

“W-well, I – I suppose he could be clumsy,” you mumble unconvincingly. “O-or stocking up, perhaps. We’ve got N.E.W.T. classes next term, some of these spells are quite challenging, a-and the beasts, we’ve got Grindylows to examine, you know how they bite…”

You trail off feebly, blushing a bright red. The Wiggenweld potion in your cauldron signals its completion with a puff of smoke, offering a welcome distraction.

“Aye, of course,” Parry murmurs, sounding very much like he doesn’t believe you in the slightest. “In any case, as soon as you finish that Focus potion I’ll send you on your way.”

Quickly ladling three portions of Wiggenweld into Parry's glass vials, you scrub out your cauldron and prepare the last draught, wrinkling your nose at the smell of dugbog tongue. Once it starts to smoke and bubble, you measure out a generous portion and collect the Felix Felicis from your boss, tucking the lot into your satchel.

“Please thank young Sebastian for his order, and tell him I said good day,” Parry tells you with a wink. “And to kindly stop pilfering my apprentice so often.”

“Yes, sir,” you reply sheepishly.

Outside the shop, you trek outside the boundaries of Hogsmeade to hop onto your broom and head south toward Feldcroft. It had been more than a week since you’d seen Sebastian, which felt like an eternity compared to how often you saw him during the school year.

One month into your break and you feel like a simpering wreck.

You miss him like crazy – not that you’d tell him like that, of course. He’s your closest friend, and the two of you have been through so much together in the past two years. You aren’t about to ruin it by confessing that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

—

Sebastian is not moping.

And even if he was, why shouldn’t he mope? He’s alone, it’s swelteringly hot in the hamlet and he hasn’t seen his best friend in a week.

He’s bored, and when Sebastian gets bored, he gets creative.

Really, it’s almost too easy to summon you to Feldcroft. All it took was a quick trip to see the owl post stand and another superfluous order for some potions (with a little bit of Liquid Luck thrown in on a whim), and he knew you’d arrive by the time the heat broke.

He conveniently manages to be tending to his small garden when you touch down beside the Sallow home, his sleeves rolled up past his elbows while he pats some dirt around a sprig of fluxweed.

“Sallow?” You call out teasingly. “I have an order here for Sebastian Sallow?”

“Must be a lazy bloke, ordering all those Wiggenwelds instead of making them himself,” he answers, sitting back on his heels and wiping some sweat away from his brow with the back of his wrist. “Or perhaps just daft.”

“I happen to know that you can make a perfectly good batch of Wiggenweld yourself,” you point out.

Sebastian watches distractedly while you untie your hair, shaking it loose as it falls down to your shoulders.

“W-well, yours is better,” he insists. “Always has been, even Sharp said so.”

“It’s even better now,” you say proudly, pulling one of the bottles out of your bag to hand to him. “...You’re not actually hurt, are you?”

“No, just bored,” he admits. “I wanted to see you.”

If Ominis were here, he’d likely pick up on how those words make your heart race a little faster, but mercifully, Sebastian does not.

“Here I am,” you say. “And I’m all yours for the day, Mister Pippin gave me the rest of the day off.”

“Oh, really?” he replies, brushing some stray dirt off of his trousers as he stands up. “Whatever could we get up to with an entire afternoon?”

You blink in surprise as he stands, realizing for the first time that Sebastian has gotten taller.

“What?” he asks, catching your gaze.

“You’ve grown,” you say dumbly. “I – I mean, you’re tall.”

“Am I?” he asks, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Perhaps you’re just short.”

“I am not short,” you protest, following Sebastian as he leads the way into the old Sallow home.

It feels different now, obviously. Less like a family home and more like a chaotic bachelor pad, Sebastian’s strewn-about books and haphazard notes covering up a distinct lack of coziness.

It’s only for the summer, Sebastian had told you the first time you’d seen it.

(You know he doesn’t really have anywhere else to go anymore, what with the Gaunt household becoming more toxic by the day. You wouldn’t be surprised to find Ominis squatting there as well by the time July rolls around.)

“You’re practically pocket-sized,” Sebastian teases, closing the door behind you to keep some of the midday sun out. “I think it’s why you’re so powerful – it’s concentrated, your magic.”

You scoff and shove at his shoulder, wondering to yourself when he became so broad.

It had only been a few weeks since school had let out, hadn’t it? And suddenly Sebastian was walking around in a man’s body, one you were sure wasn’t there in Charms class in May. Or maybe it was, hiding beneath his suit jacket and his robes…

You blink rapidly to clear your head.

“Um. Your potions,” you mumble, pulling the rest of the bottles out of your satchel and placing them on the front room table.

Then you can’t help but ask, “What’s the Felix Felicis for?”

“Not sure yet,” Sebastian admits. “But I’m sure it will come in handy at some point.”

You hum under your breath, picking up the delicate vial and examining it in the light.

“Hand it over,” Sebastian demands with a laugh. “I don’t like the way you’re looking at that bottle, I know what temptation looks like on your face.”

Blushing, you place the vial in his outstretched hand, letting your own hand linger a beat too long. Sebastian quickly catches your wrist, turning your hand palm-side up.

“Merlin’s beard, your hand is small,” he observes.

“Not this again,” you groan.

“I’m being serious, you hold your wand with this tiny thing?” he jokes. “Poor Ollivander had his work cut out for him.”

“Let’s see yours, then,” you insist, holding your hand up to him. “Go on.”

Sebastian presses his palm against yours and you raise your eyebrows. His hand dwarfs yours to the degree that he could wrap the tips of his fingers overtop yours if he wanted to.

“See?” he says, his voice suddenly much quieter in the empty home. “Tiny.”

“And yet I can still beat you in a duel,” you retort, trying to calm your racing heart.

Just like that, the tension in the room dissolves away and Sebastian lights up.

“A duel, hmm?” he echoes. “Is that an offer?”

“Seriously? That’s what you want to do today?” you laugh. “It’s thirty degrees outside and you want to duel?”

“We could practice on the training dummies,” he offers hopefully. “You know you want to.”

…Damn him, he’s right.

“Fine,” you relent. “But if I sweat through this chemise, it’s your head, Sallow.”

Sebastian tries very hard to not think about you in a sweat-soaked white shirt as you lead him back outside, and if he trips over the doorframe on his way out, he’s happy to let you continue to assume it’s just his clumsy streak.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #requests #my fic

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moodymisty · 2 months

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May I request a yandere primarch of your choice getting very jealous after seeing you laughing with one of his brothers at a party and then dragging you back to his room after to remind you who you belong to?

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's Note: the community wanted Yandere Horus, so Yandere Horus you all shall have. I hope you enjoy, anon. I'm ok with this, but there's more I wanted to do. But at the end of the day I had to just bite the bullet and post it so I can take a break without this looming over me.

Summary: It's the first real outing since you've been officially named as Horus' beloved, and he realizes how much he dislikes how curious everyone is of you.

Relationships: Horus Lupercal/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Big Dick Lupercal, Takes place well before the Heresy, Yandere, Toxic relationship, That typical sort of yandere dubcon but not really dubcon kinda thing, Breeding kink if you squint, Size kink/Size difference, Getting absolutely obliterated by a ten foot tall man built like a truck, if you squinted hard you could take some dialogue as a bit sexist but it’s a stretch, Aftercare? lmao this is 40k

Word Count: 2714

Perhaps you aren't the foremost expert on parties, but the last you had thought, a party was supposed to be...

Fun.

And lacking in the drawl of military strategy and logistics. This seems more so like an ineffective way for the High lords of Terra and other high value persons of the Militarium to speak to the Primarchs and their captains, but with wine involved.

As the recently crowned Lady Lupercal, many of those high value persons are now eager to make friends with you, attempting to smile as wide as comfortably possible and earn any sort of good will they can. For many of them speaking to a Primarch, let alone making connections of a Legion would be hysterically rare; Though it seems many of them have the idea to do so through you.

Horus had warned you of it, so you suppose you shouldn't be so surprised.

Only just now have you managed to get away from them all, taking solace in a quiet corner of the palace. A Custodes on guard had given you an odd look- and by look you mean just a glance from the corner of his eyes- but he seems content to allow you somewhat near him as long as you remain quiet. Though you suppose you can't remain here for long. You have to be a part of all this, as much as you might dread it.

“Lady Lupercal?”

You turn the moment you hear the distinctive accent of Macragge-born Guilliman, who approaches you as you stand close to one of the palace's myriad of balconies. That title still feels odd to hear. He brushes just past you to stand on it, and waits until you join him. His head is tilted downward at an angle to make eye contact with you.

It's night now, and you can see the lights of hundreds of ships orbiting Terra up high above. It darkens his armor and the lights of the palace cast a harsh shadow on Guilliman's clean face.

"Had your fill of this evening?"

Normally Guilliman is quite forthright, so his small talk is a bit of a surprise. Everything has lead you to believe he was a very politely blunt sort. Though you've only spoken to the Primarch a handful of times, and very briefly.

Only just recently as Horus has made it known to everyone that you are his beloved, have you begun speaking to his legion; And his fellow Primarchs.

"A little bit. I just need a bit of air, and then I'll come back."

Guilliman crosses his arms over the delicate and expensive looking robes he currently wears, having shed his armor for the evening. It must be from his home world, judging by the interesting style and shape.

"I am a bit surprised he's thrown you to the wolves like this. Before, he was quite secretive about you." You doubt Horus would let you leave his sight unless it was extremely important, and it's not as if you can rely on him forever. Or demand him to stay.

"I assumed someone had managed to catch his attention enough for me to get lost." Guilliman shifts his weight slightly, and lets out a very quiet chuckle. It's sincerity makes you smile.

"Don't tell any of the others, but we've all gotten lost our fair share of times in this maze of a palace." He rubs his temple with two fingers. "It just keeps growing, it's like a Labyrinth. I've begun to wonder if Dorn will ever cease."

His genuine exasperation makes you laugh. It's such a human gesture, and such a human problem. It's quite easy to forget they are human, at times.

You hadn't realized you'd been smiling the whole time, but it grows when you see his disgruntled face. It goes away however when he realizes he amused you.

"If I figure it out before you, maybe I'll make us a map." Guilliman smiles.

"I will hold you to that, you know. If cartography isn't yet familiar to you, perhaps you should begin learning."

You were about to respond to him, a smile on your face, but Guilliman turns his head away towards the inside of the palace; Your own gaze follows shortly thereafter.

He must've heard Horus before he could see him, because not moments later you can see Horus walking towards the both of you; His pelt shifts on his shoulders as he does. He makes a straight line towards the balcony the both of you stand on and ignores anyone else along his path.

"Here you are," Horus smiles at you, but it's not his usual one. The one that's warm and casts the room and a pleasant atmosphere. "I see you've been chatting with one of my brothers." You nod with the smile Guilliman gave you still partly on your face, but before you can speak anything more- perhaps what the two of you were talking about- Horus does so for you.

"Perhaps we should take our leave for the evening. It is quite late, and it seems nothing or anyone worthwhile is going to make it's appearance."

He looks towards Guilliman and for a split second it almost seems like an argument is beginning to brew, with the way they're looking at each other; Guilliman is confused and defensive while Horus' jaw tenses. You can't understand how his mood has so suddenly changed, neither can Guilliman clearly, but it seems something has happened in your absence.

Now you stand literally and figuratively in the middle, before retreating your Primarch's side. He will always serve as your anchor, even when he's this turbulent.

Guilliman simply gives a curt hum in response, and seemingly decides to not uncover Horus' sudden change in disposition.

"Very well. I hope the rest of your evening fares you well," He looks down to you, though the pleasant aura he had has now returned to the cold and structured one he is known for. "And I enjoyed our chat."

Horus gives Guilliman no more than placeholder platitudes and farewells, of which the man takes with a short nod, before leaving with you in tow to return to his chambers.

That entire trip to return to them, is intense.

There is no chatter, and Horus doesn't even have the soft upturn of his lips he usually wears. Instead his face his firm, with something clearly boiling beneath the surface. You wonder if it's something from when he was gone that you could ask about, when he isn't in such a sensitive state.

Even as friendly and easygoing as Horus is, his fellow Primarchs are largely not the same apart from a few, and you wouldn't be surprised if one of them managed to- in a phrase not suited to describe a Primarch- pissed him off.

When you enter the deepest most room in Horus' wing of the palace, what serves as his bedroom, you suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder. You would've turned around even if he hadn't done it for you, as he takes a knee to get more on even height with you. But even with it, you still have to almost look slightly up at him.

Suddenly that hand on your shoulder moves to your face, gripping your jaw and forcing you to look at him. That firm, irritated face has been replaced with an angry, irritated expression. His nose slightly wrinkles at the top, brow furrowed.

He holds your jaw tight, but you’re not fooled into thinking it’s anywhere near him putting in effort.

“What is your title.”

You’re confused for a moment, frightened by the look in his eyes, as he adjusts his grip. You try to stay his name, but it just comes out as a confused stutter. He reiterates with more clarity.

“What is the title I gave you.”

You grasp his wrist tight and whimper out:

“L-Lady Lupercal.”

The noise that arises from him is somewhere between a hum and a growl.

“Did you forget it while you were busy being a little coquette in front of my brother?”

You hadn’t; It had been the focus of your short conversation with Guilliman. You’d tried your hardest to be nothing but polite to him, with the formality expected of speaking to a Primarch. But this is all new to you; Whatever Horus saw wasn’t there, and you’re desperate to prove as such.

"N-No, he just came up to me and I was trying to be polite, Guilli-"

He swallows the name of his fellow primarch with his lips, pressing them against your own. It's angry; Forceful. You can feel his hot breath on your skin as he takes in heavy breaths, and how tense he feels. You moan softly into his mouth but even the brief moment of pleasure is overcast by Horus’ fuming anger.

He pulls away from your lips with a soft pop, and still in a kneel begins undoing the broach of his cape. Once it falls to the floor his eyes meet yours and he states:

"Take it off."

His sentence is vague and you stand unsure in the gargantuan room, as he now removes his wristguards. Once they're off, he puts a hand on your waist and pushes upward, disturbing the fabric of your dress. You feel it pull and stretch against his hand, as if it’s little more than parchment. He could ruin it all in one fell tear.

"I am being patient with you."

It's hard to disobey a primarch, especially one staring at you with those eyes. The fabric of your dress falls to the floor moments later, undone and forgotten. You step out from the circle it makes at your feet.

You imagine the only reason he hadn't simply destroyed it was after having it made just for you, in the colors of the Sons of Horus and to his exact specifications- their legion mother needed to be in worthy attire he has said- his patience won out over the potential days of headache.

But it feels like a blink you go from standing to being nearly swallowed by his sea of a bed, blankets tussled around your naked form. You think you might’ve backed up until you fell onto it, but it’s all a blur.

"The Crusade has taken much of my time, and since I have introduced you to my brothers, perhaps you have forgotten your place,” He says as he undoes the fastening of his belt.

Even on pieces of furniture meant to handle a man of such size it still buckles and bows underneath his weight, shifting your body as he cages you underneath him. His hand grips your thigh, and the sheer size forces them apart. Your body tenses and squirms underneath him.

To think such a short conversation would've had him so fuming, as his hand presses against your cunt. It makes your lips purse and and words that you might’ve considered saying don’t even leave your lips. His fingers roughly press through your folds curl inside of you, an aching stretch that has you squirming underneath him.

Though it’s not as if you have any chance of moving, even the slightest bit of his strength has you completely at his mercy.

You can feel his anger in every motion, but your blood is pounding in your ears enough that you can barely hear him. You think you might've said his name, told him to slow down, but even if you had he doesn't listen in the slightest.

Pulling his hand away from between your thighs he’s quick to flip you onto your stomach, and you lay exposed before you suddenly feel him press again the back of your thighs.

In an odd, impossible to explain way, you at times almost forget that your beloved towers over you at near or over double your height. That he possesses neigh untenable strength.

Now is a moment you do, as he presses his hips against your ass and buries you in the plush material of the bed.

Your fingers grip the blanket like a lifeline as he buries himself as deep as he possibly can, staying for a moment for seemingly little other reason than to torture you. Even with only the slightest bit of his weight on you, you feel trapped and barely able to move.

It's taken time for you to get used to taking Horus without hours of preparation- and while it still does take time, you'll always feel like he's overtaken your entire stomach. It’s that teetering on the edge of pain that has you gasping, a body not made for him being forced to. Horus is normally exceedingly gentle, but less so tonight. He is at least gentle enough as to not break you.

Whatever he saw that wasn't there between you and Guilliman, he seems intent on teaching you a lesson on not doing.

“Horus, pl-“

His massive hand grips the blanket beside your head as he grunts overtop of you.

“You are the legion mother of my sons.”

Your back arches and lips purse as his cock brushes against places so deep that it almost has your eyes watering. You swallow the massive knot in your throat and try not let out enough noise that passersby could hear.

“You will be the mother of my blooded sons, one day.”

The implication has your heart race with fear and something else as the primarch holds you down. You barely have the time to think about it, it only sends a jolt of feeling right down your spine into your gut.

Given his size it’s so easy to push you around, that he often times has to press on your shoulder and hold you like some sort of toy. Even the softest thrust can push you forward and nearly off of him; You don't have the strength to hold strong against it.

Worn and tired your nerves spark from so much sensation, cunt tightening around him. Horus continues to thrust into you with little care and your teeth grind, toes curling.

It feels good, so good, but it teeters on the edge of dangerous. Especially knowing his mood. Then again, sometimes even the simplest things are dangerous, with someone like him.

The primarch curses and swears in both high and low gothic as he finally cums inside of you, the inhuman amount leaking from you when he pulls out.

Horus looks over you, and it seems whatever you’d seen in him earlier is gone- for the time being. Even if you can't look directly at him, it's almost as if you can feel the emotion in the room change. More odd Primarch things, you assume. Not that it matters much in the end.

You lay tired, legs limp as your body aches.

Perhaps in the moment it may feel good, very much so, but oftentimes your body then reminds you that it isn’t made for a Primarch. Particularly one who decides not to be gentle with you.

There has time where no one sees even a hint of you for days, after he's done with you. He apologizes it for it, but you can always tell with that smile of his, he isn't actually apologetic.

He gently pushes you with a hand to that you roll on your back, and you look up at him worried, wondering if he's still angry.

“I am sorry, my love.” His words are sweet like wine, like they so often are, as his hand not gently holds your cheek. He isn't anymore, and you don't question it. You don't want to bring it back.

Though this isn't the first time he's become this way, though it is the first time he's done something physical in response.

“Now that my brothers know of you, I can’t help but feel as if they might take you from me, once they realize how perfect you are.”

There’s words you want to say, many of them, but you can’t manage it. Only a requited whisper of love is what you manage to say. Horus takes it well and his saccharine sweet smile always manages to pull you in and ignore the things behind it.

“I only wish for you to be mine. Always and forever.”

#horus lupercal x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting #DOBBIE IS FREE!

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theapangea · 3 months

Note

Hi!

Can you do a lip gallagher x reader smut?

She and lip had something going on but the karen thing happend, so a few years later she comes back and they sleep together, but this time she doesnt really wants something serious.

The One That Got Away

Pairing/Characters: Lip Gallagher x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warning: 18+ Minors DNI!!! Mention of parent being sick, being heartbroken, unprotected p in v, bathroom sex

A/N: This is definitely a long one but a super good one! thank u sm to anon for the request. I hope you enjoy !!!! if you see any mistakes, no you didn't. kisses for you for supporting my work!

*Also posted on AO3: Theapangea*

Masterlist

You almost forgot.

You almost forgot that the subway stop on 5th street smells predominantly of hotdogs even though there is no hotdog stand around. The way the subway putters with music from the guy asking for spare change. That the hot, stale air of the subway carts coat your whole body even though it is cold and wet just beyond the steel frame.

You almost forgot how the L’s seats are the most uncomfortable seats in the entire world as you wiggle your butt into the uncushioned plastic. That your phone starts to lose wifi signal around the bridge, music stuttering along into your ears, skipping every other word. That the train becomes less crowded when it’s raining. Your favorite time to be here.

You almost forgot how beautiful the city looks as you pass by it so quickly that all the colors begin to blend together. That so many memories dance across the windows, the faint sound of laughter mixing with the music blasting through your ear drums. That your heart is somewhere scattered into pieces at one of these stops. Thankfully not remembering which one it was as it happened too long ago.

You damn near almost forgot everything about this city. But it keeps drawing you back in. You’ve never really been able to leave Chicago, huh?

You pull your purse strap up onto your shoulder as the train aggressively comes to a stop. The loud intercom muffling something inaudible as you step out of the train, underneath the covering of the overhead platform. The smell of day-old garbage and wet leaves fill your nostrils as your body begins to move you in the direction of The Alibi.

It’s been a long couple of days with your dad in the hospital. He’s finally home but you can’t convince yourself that it’s a good idea to stay for a couple of days. You know that your mom needs the help but having to stay any longer in Chicago will make you go crazy.

Is making you go crazy.

You just want a quick drink before, hopefully, taking the train back to your hotel and then away from Chicago tomorrow morning.

The rain has faded into a drizzle, your hood still pulled over your wet hair. Hands tucked neatly into your jacket pockets. You push open the heavy red door. The stench of cigarettes and beer wrapping around you in a warm hug. It’s weird to be back in a place that holds so many memories. This was the place you and Lip…Lip?

And there he is in all his glory.

The boy who shattered your fragile teenage heart so many years ago taking a quick sip of the beer in his hands. Across the bar, sitting at the counter, laughing with Kevin.

Your head rushes as the memories start to flood in so rapidly. The bar becomes hazy, people blurring as they pass by, the music growing louder in your ears. Pulling your hood down with your right hand while the left works to fix the fly aways.

Your eyes are attempting to focus but all you can see is Lip. His hair is a little shorter now, his body more built as his biceps are barely contained beneath the material of his shirt. The way his mouth forms in a smile when Kevin says something funny.

A buzz trickles up your body, the giddy feeling you get when you’ve had a couple drinks in you. But you haven’t had anything to drink…not yet, at least. This was the feeling you got when you and Lip were together. It was this sort of radiating energy.

You never thought you’d feel this way again. You’re unsure if you want to feel this way now. You’ve suppressed every memory of Lip, each too painful to relive again.

But seeing him after all of these years feels hopeful. You like the buzz that you get when you’re around him.

God he looks so good.

You feel almost stupid thinking these thoughts.

You tried so damn hard to forget about Lip. But no man ever came anywhere close. Ever made you feel so good. You couldn’t stop yourself from comparing any future boyfriend to him. Knowing Lip was always enough for you and no other man can measure up.

The sound of your name across the bar pulls you from your inner thoughts. Two pairs of eyes now on you, Kevin waving for you to come over. But your feet were bricks. You are tempted to abandon all hope and get the hell out of here.

Your gaze passes from Kevin to Lip. The instant spark. The instant attractive. The instant pain. It is everything to you. The way your body leaks in the presence of him. You’d do anything to feel the weight of him on top of you again.

Dragging your feet along the wooden floor, wrapping your hands over your purse strap and phone to attempt to stop them from shaking as you get closer…and closer…and closer to Lip. The scent of his cologne mixed with cigarettes engulf you. His present is greater than himself.

Kevin’s voice breaks through the tension that surrounds you and Lip, “Beer?” He sets the bottle on the counter, the popping sound of the cap ripples through your body.

Your eyes jump to Kevin quickly until they settle on the glass bottle pushed in front of you. But you can still feel the way Lip’s eyes are digging into your skin, like glass shards.

“So what brings you back to town? I thought you moved off to New York or somewhere grand like that.” Kevin begins, he leans on the counter with his elbows.

It is nice that he’s talking. It’d be super weird to run into Lip and not have some sort of barrier to stop the awkwardness.

Wrapping your fingers around the cold bottle, picking it up to take a sip of beer, letting the first sip of alcohol encourage you to speak. “Yeah, New York. Just some family stuff that I needed to come back for.”

“Oh, is everything okay with your mom and dad?” Kevin’s eyebrows furrowed, the tone of worry laces his words. Your dad has been coming to The Alibi long before Kevin became owner so Kevin knows your dad really well.

“Everything’s fine now. Nothing to worry about. I’ll actually be heading home tomorrow.” You state and force a smile towards him. Reassuring him that everything is alright.

A customer to your right pulls Kevin’s attention away from your conversation before he can say anything else. He hints a smile towards you before speaking some nonsense to the guy.

Then it’s just you and Lip. Bothing babying your beers and sneaking looks from one another. The air between you both is thick. You hate how awkward it is between you and Lip now.

Yes, he broke your heart. Yes, many hurtful words were said between the both of you. But he was your Lip. He knew everything about you. You feel stupid that you let all of it go over some other girl.

You close your eyes, focus on your breathing and try to work up the courage to speak to him. If it wasn’t for Kevin, you wouldn’t be sitting here right now. You would have definitely turned on your heels and run out of this bar faster than any human can possibly run.

Letting the liquid courage take full effect, you finally speak, “How are you?” Your mouth suddenly dries from the simple question. Washing it quickly with another sip of beer. The cool liquid coating its way down your throat.

You peer over to Lip. His eyes are already on you. The faint freckles that scatter across his noses are even more beautiful than remembered.

His eyes are soft as they scan your face. His demeanor is calm, his hands still wrapped delicately around the glass bottle. You can’t tell what he’s thinking. You don’t even know if there’ll be any conversation. Maybe he’s been mad at you all this time, just like you’ve been mad at him.

But the train of thought escapes your mind as Lip’s hand swiftly wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you into him. Crashing violently against his lips. The aggressive need of the taste of you. Attempting to match his rough nature. His lips move fast as he breathes you in. Needing every single ounce of you, making up for all the lost time.

Lip draws back slightly, his mouth only centimeters away from yours. Your heavy breathes mix together as he places his forehead against yours.

“I’ve missed you,” his whisper is so soft, so innocent. Your heart swells at the vulnerability.

Your hands make fist in the fabric of his shirt as you pull him closer to you, catching his mouth in yours again. Your body’s moving closer to one another. You need him right now. You can’t wait a minute longer. Pulling away from him again, locking his eyes with yours and quickly gesturing that you take this elsewhere.

He smirks, eyes darkening as you realize you both have the same idea. He immediately wraps your hand in his as he leads you towards the bathroom.

Pushing the door open with his back. His hands on your waist as he pulls you with him. Forcefully shutting and locking the door before his attention is all on you. His attention is only for you.

Lip is the lion and you are the deer. Knees shaking as he stalks closer to you. Feeling so small compared to him as he lips are on you again. Sucking, biting, licking, desperately needing the taste of you over and over again.

Grinding your hips against him, his hard cock pressed firmly behind his jeans. Both of your hands make quick work to tear each other’s clothes off. Unbuckling pants, removing shirts, the skin to skin contact is electrifying.

Lip flips you around, your chest placed firmly against the wall. His hands slowly move along your sides, thumbs looping on the hem of your pants and underwear, pulling them violently down your legs. Sticking your bare ass against Lip’s growing member as he places wet kisses along your shoulder.

Lip shoves one hand down his jeans to release his penis from their prison. Holding up your cheeks with his other hands, stroking his cock as he aligns it with your entrance. The clear liquid leaking between your legs as he runs his tip around your sensitive nub. Your whiny moans signaling that you can’t take being without him for much longer. You are going to burst even if he isn’t inside of you.

Lip pushes deeply into you, roughly sinking his pulsing cock between your slick folds. Both of his hands wrap you closely like a hug as your walls expand to accommodate him. The waves of pleasure run across your skin as he pounds into your sweet bliss.

Moans and whines filling the small bathroom. His thrust is hard and wild. Sinking your wet core deeper and deeper onto his shaft. The eagerness of having you is overwhelming for Lip. He’s so close and wants nothing more than to take you with him.

“Come for me, baby.” He groans against your ear, nibbling your earlobe.

And it is everything you need to release yourself onto his cock. Standing on your tiptoes as your body violently shakes in his arms. His thrust becomes messier as you release yourself on to him, the act sending him over the edge after you, filling your little pussy with his warm liquid.

The air is hot as he pulls out of you. Grabbing a couple of paper towels from the dispenser to clean himself and you up. Your core is sensitive as the rough material glides against it. Your ass is still in full display for Lip before reaching down to pick your undies and pants off the floor.

Lip leans against the bathroom wall mirroring your movements of getting his pants back on as you make your way over to the sink. Splashing some water on your face before looking at yourself in the mirror. You can barely recognize the girl in front of you. The overwhelming feeling of want for Lip pushed away the feelings of pain. But only briefly as they finally start to settle in again.

Lip scratches the back of his neck, his eyes dropping onto the ground. Your name hanging gently on the tip of his tongue, “God, I didn’t realize things were so bad with your parents. I would’ve helped out if I’d known.”

Lip was really close to your dad when you were both younger. Your dad acting like more of a father to him than Frank ever did. You know it’s true, if Lip knew your dad was sick. He’d drop everything to help out.

And you loved Lip for that.

But it isn’t his problem. Especially now, especially after what happened between the two of you.

“It’s not your problem, Lip.” You say, looking down into the sink in front of you. You didn’t really feel like talking about it, especially to him.

You wipe your hands and face with a paper towel. Tossing the paper into the trash before reaching for the door handle, “I should go.”

“You’re leaving?” Lip reaches out to grab your wrist. His fingers wrapping tightly around you.

Your eyes shift downwards as you don't know exactly what to say. Maybe saying nothing will hurt less. But are you trying to convince him or you?

Pulling away from his grip, exiting the bathroom. Saying a quick goodbye to Kevin as you walk out the main entrance. It is all behind you now. You got the sex out of the way so there’s nothing more to be said or done.

But just like before, you could never shake Lip as a shadow. You feel his presence walking quickly behind you. He follows you around like some puppy who needs a home. You chose to try to ignore him and make your way back to the train station. Maybe he will get tired of following you and just leave you alone once and for all.

“Do you wanna grab a bite to eat?” Lip asks, his voice lower as he is behind you.

You stop immediately once you get to the top of the train platform. Taking a deep breath as you turn around on your heels. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Lip.”

“Why?”

God, as smart as Lip is. He can be so stupid sometimes.

“Because we aren’t friends anymore. I didn’t come back here for you. And if it wasn’t for my parents then I wouldn’t even be here. I hate Chicago. I hate it because of you. So just act like I wasn’t here, please.” Your voice was so harsh at first, finishing your monologue with barely a whisper. Pleading for him to let you go.

But Lip is so quick with a response, “But why do you hate me? What the fuck did I do to you that we just stopped being friends.”

“You’re really going to act dumb?” You scoff. “Fucking Karen, dude. Once you started fucking her, you just left me. I was nothing to you. And you were everything to me. And I thought I got over you, this hatred, this pain. But fuck, Lip. You just can’t talk to me like that never happened.”

“I was a kid. I was fucking stupid.”

“And Karen?”

“Something happened to her.” His eyes shift down. The sharp pain in your heart grows.

“Do you still love her?”

“Maybe.”

“Then this will never happen.” Your hand motions between you and Lip.

“I want to give it a chance again. If you’d let me.” He reaches out to grab your fingers. Linking them with his with yours, pulling you towards him.

But you stand firm in your footing. He had you so many years ago. Could have probably had you a couple minutes ago. But now that reality has set in again. Knowing he still loves Karen, knowing he will never love you as much as he loves her.

Now absolutely knowing this information has torn you. Lip has broken your heart once more. And you can’t even blame him as you were the one who decided to sleep with him.

Stuttering as you attempt to get the words out, the tears slipping down your cheeks, “I loved you Lip. I still love you. You know that, right? I always did and probably always will. God knows I was never good at letting things…or people…go.” Licking your lips to break as you stop yourself from fully breaking down. “I can’t let you do this to me, Lip. I won’t.”

The train pulls in behind you. The gush of the hot air blowing your hair. Taking a deep breath as you and Lip both stand there, red-eyed and drained.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper as you turn to board the train.

Turning back to stare at Lip. The steel doors closing between the both of you. The plastic window allows you both to still see the other one last time before the train guts into motion. You instantly grip the metal pole to keep standing as the image of Lip fades into the past, just like every other memory of him.

But to Lip, you are the fire that lights in his belly. And as much as it pains him to admit, you were the one that got away, he was just too stupid to realize it back then.

~~~

Let me know what you think!!

My replies don't work but you can always send me a message thru inbox if you wanna chat!

Thank you so much for supporting me <3

I am thinking of starting a little tag list for Lip girlies. LMK what you think and if you wanna be tagged in everything Lip going forward. Love you!!

#lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher #lip gallagher smut #shameless x reader #theapangea #lip gallagher fanfic

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namis-gf · 3 months

Note

Just saw that you’re open for one piece requests and thought I’d drop by.

Would you consider writing back rub and back kisses hcs for katakuri or marco please? And best of luck with the come back ^^

anon ur so insane how did u KNOW i was thinking obsessively about katakuri for the past two weeks straight... ur too good. i meant to stick closer to the prompt but the plot kinda got away from me, sorry!

summary: strawhat!reader x katakuri meet again after many years apart during the whole cake island arc. luffy has been trying to convince him to join his crew with no success, but maybe he might listen to you?

word count: 969 words / 0.9k

cw: none? i think?

whoever said katakuri was 48 year-old eldest daughter syndrome is absolutely correct. he has so many hangups when it comes to both physical and verbal affection, most of the time preferring to passively sit by and let people bother him. case in point, your captain. instead of immediately setting sail for zou to meet up with everyone, luffy has taken it upon himself to convince the minister of flour that his presence is desperately needed on his crew. permanently.

and, if you're going to be polite about it: things aren't going well. you've watched for two days straight, luffy yelling either to the gentle giant's face (which is still quite a distance from the ground), or attempting to scale the walls of katakuri's home. neither of those particularly difficult for the rubber boy, considering the house slash castle itself seems to be basically falling apart.

you wait. nami often sits by your side, either grouching about the time, plotting your captain's demise, or napping on your shoulder. chopper and brook have taken to an almost betting ring of sorts, getting the remaining residents of komugi island to guess whether their leader will stay or go. so far, the odds aren't in luffy's favour. as usual, you might add.

at the end of their fourth extra night, luffy returns to the sunny. he looks a little downtrodden, yawning, but has somehow gotten a hold of a handful of mochi. "i think katakuri was trying to kill me again, but he lost. the food he makes is really yummy though, shishishi!"

with a sigh of your own, you offer, "let me talk to him, i have an idea."

"you do?" luffy replies, mouth full of sweets, "go ahead!"

"call if you need anything!" chopper chimes in.

nami only shakes her head. "if you don't come back, we'll assume you got trampled to death or something. so don't do that please."

"don't even worry about it, i'm basically a pro social hustler," you tell them, and begin the walk to the castle.

"so you are not a bard, or a songstress, or a very small jester. your presence here confuses me, you did not seem like someone who would ever become a pirate," katakuri tells you, his tone as solemn as ever.

"is this a roundabout way of saying i don't have any talents?" you mock-gasp with flair, "oh you wound me so!"

he stares at you wordlessly. okay, it looks like jokes are off the table.

"but you missed me right?" you try instead, putting on your biggest smile. "you missed me so bad, must be why you look so grumpy all the time."

"is your captain aware of..." he pauses, considers, "does the strawhat know of your past?"

"sort of?" you shrug your shoulders, shifting forward to adjust like you aren't already lying on one of his legs (truly the world's largest couch). "there was never exactly a good time to bring it up, ya know? like how was i supposed to say 'uh hey guys, i used to work here as the world's worst gardener before i got fired'."

"hm, that does seem difficult," katakuri nods. "i could not tell how much they knew, but you are lucky that none of my siblings happened to remember you well enough to say anything."

"small blessings for sure," you do your best to contain a laugh, however the echoing chambers of an empty castle only make it louder. "anyways, cut the bullshit. you're gonna come with me, right?"

his neutral expression shifts into something like a frown, and yet you can tell he isn't exactly angry at your presumptuousness either. "i would like to accompany you. but my duties to my... mother and the family take precedence."

"and if you left, she'd send the whole gang after you."

he sighs again. "yes, that is the most probable outcome. and i would not wish to put the strawhat crew in danger."

"that's charming," you reply, "but also really stupid. and i know you aren't a dummy, right? you've been hanging around this dreary archipelago for your whole life! don't you want to, i don't know, do something? go on an adventure?"

he doesn't respond immediately, but a large hand clumsily pats your head with his pointer finger. you grin, knowing victory must be in sight. "your totally evil mom doesn't even leave her place that often, so she won't even notice that you're gone! and tell me right now that you don't think luffy would be chomping at the bit to fight her again? be serious, mochi-mochi."

all of a sudden the ground shifts under you, and you make an embarrassing yelp as you're dragged up and up and up. katakuri holds your body by the back of your shirt, and you're only partially worried that he could drop you. death by splat on marble floor isn't appealing in the slightest. you're suspended by a shirt pinched between fingers as he squints slightly, as though looking for a secret in your expression.

"fine," he eventually says, "i will go. but if something goes wrong, do not say i didn't warn you."

"ah, you're bringing me back to old times!" you hum, making a familiar grabby hand motion for him to drop you on his shoulder. "except i think uh, the last time you warned me-"

"you got fired, yes," he says amicably, but acquiesces to your request. "left or right?"

"right! i wanna look like a really mean parrot, mr. pirate," you exclaim, laughing as he drops you gently where you'd asked. feeling mischievous, you press a kiss against his neck and watch as his face goes pink. "we should probably go make sure that you won't sink the sunny, though!"

"... and you somehow did not think to check something like that before?"

FIN (FOR NOW)

#one piece #one piece x reader #charlotte katakuri #charlotte katakuri x reader #gn!reader #requests open

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mncxbe · 5 months

Note

Heyy hope you're doing well!! I'm not sure if you have done this before and sorry if you did but could I request akutagawa and reader fucking after a really long time? Like the reader was on a really long mission out of Yokohama or with her friends or whatever which causes Akutagawa to....you know be pent up after being away from his s/o for so long and super needy. I just feel like he would absolutely pounce on them once they return lol!!

oof oof yes anon you cooked a good idea👀 tbh I see him being super impatient and needy but he's too prideful to show it at first. but anyway I hope you like this hihi♡♡

°☆○

Teasing♡

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut♡/ Aku degrading you lil bit (use of word slut)

Akutagawa's patience was starting to wear off with each torturous second that passed. It's been two hours since you got home from your trip to Kobe and you didn't so much as lay a finger on him.

Naturally, you hugged him as you entered your shared apartment; shopping bags hanging loosly from your arms, luggage rolling behind you on its little wheels, but nothing besides that.

And oh, how cruel you were to him. You knew how much he missed you, how your two weeks absence has been utterly unbearable, how pent up and needy he was. You noticed his bulge the moment you entered your apartment yet still did your best to avoid granting him the sweet release he needed.

You busied yourself with unpacking the luggage, took your time with a boiling hot shower and, pouring yourself a glass of wine, lounged on the couch.

"Come on, sit" you urged him with a sly smirk on your face, innocently patting the empty spot beside you "I've got so many thing to tell you about my trip"

And so Akutagawa sat himself next to you and listened absentmindedly to you rambling on about your vacation. He couldn't even focus on what you were saying; he was too focused on the way your pretty lips wrapped around the brim of your glass. It should've been his cock instead.

At some point you noticed the glazed look in his eyes and chuckled lightly, placing a hand atop his thigh.

"Something wrong sweetie?" you asked, voice tinged with mirth.

Your boyfriend scoffed in response and gave you a suggestive glance. "What do you think, hm, sweetie?" he replied begrudgingly, purposefully articulating the last word.

"Ya know. If you want something you should just ask for it" you continued teasing, raising the glass to your lips.

But Akutagawa wasn't a man of many words and his pride didn't allow him to indulge your little games, to beg you to take care of him; so he simply took what he wanted from you.

As for now your face was pressed against the pillows on your bed, back bent into a perfect arch as he drilled his cock inside you. His body was stretched along your back, so close you could feel the heat radiating off of his skin and you could clearly make out every little moan and grunt that rolled past his lips, his hot breath dripping all over your neck and cheeks.

"Ryuu~ fuck baby s'too much" you babbled out between soft moans, fingers clawing at the damp sheets beneath you.

"Shut up" he spat, voice laced with annoyance as his thrusts grew deeper and faster. "All you did tonight was talk, talk, talk like a broken record. Shut up and take me like the good little slut you are"

Pearly tears pooled at your lashline as your walls fluttered around him. You weren't used to this side of him, so demanding and mean but you didn't complain at all. The tip of his cock kissed your sweet spot with each thrust, making you see entire constellations.

One of his hands came to rest on the small of your back, deepening your arch in an attempt to ground himself as he picked up the pace.

"Ya like that sweetie? Being fucked dumb on my cock? Bet you missed it these past weeks you desperate slut"

You were too far gone to utter any clever remark about how he was the needy one, not you; so you resumed to mumbling a mhm as you closed your eyes shut and bit down on your bruised lip.

Your boyfriend buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting softly, the warmth of his breath sending waves of pleasure through your body. He was close, desperately chasing his own release and you knew it.

You managed to find the arm that supported the weight of his body and brushed your fingers against his. He took the hint and placed his hand on top of yours, fingers entertwining with your own as he squeezed them tightly.

"You close too baby? Wanna cum?" he uttered between ragged breaths, any hint of malice in his voice now gone and you nodded.

"Need to cum f'you please"

"Then go on. No one's stopping you baby you've earned it" he urged you and on cue you gushed around him, spasming walls milking him dry.

"Shiiit~ fuck sweetie" he groaned as he pressed his hips flush against your ass, spilling his load inside you. His arm finally gave away and he toppled to the side, laying beside you, your hand still in his as he drew little circles on it with his thumb.

"Thank you baby. I really needed this" he huffed, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck and you shivered lightly, still coming down from your high.

"Anytime" Your skin tingled as he wrapped an arm around your waist and breathing against your neck, mumbled a soft 'I love you, missed you so much' before closing his eyes. Weariness took over your body too and soon enough you drifted into a deep slumber in his arms.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd x reader #bsd smut #akutagawa bsd #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa smut

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ncteez · 2 years

Text

Premium Boy-Toy (l.j)

the one where your best friend gifts you an entire man, and that man just so happens to be in high demand for everyone but you, until now at least.

ao3 | m.list | minors dni! | if you read it, reblog it.

requested by anon: “I don’t like getting off on my own.” + “No one’s ever touched fucked me like this,”

wordcount― 10.3k

pairing― stripper!Jeno x afab reader

content― switch jeno, rich/lonely reader, jeno gets kinda in a weird headspace after he cums lmao

note― congrats, you are witnessing the fact that i cannot defend that this is basically smut from start to finish. theres a lil bit of sugar baby jeno at the end tho so...um, also there's probably so many typos and way too many commas in this but to be fair i was in horny jail and just fucking going.

smut tags under cut:

smut tags: masturbation, jeno goes from having the power to releasing it to you completely, its very chaotic, stripping kind of, hand job, finger fucking, choking, sensitivity, edging but it’s his own fault, jeno talks a lot until he can’t anymore, titty sucking :D, protected sex

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift. A down payment of $600 told you enough about the man who offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who had no one to spend their money on. Your best friend had been taunting you with the idea for months. Since she heard of the infamous Jeno actually, even more so after she experienced him herself. She has mentioned how clean he is, how toned he is, how well he moves his body, how he teases just enough, and how he looks better in heels than she does herself.

You still can’t fully take that last part seriously. A male stripper in heels? Must cost extra for those who like that sort of thing, which is very clearly your best friend. Noted. Regardless, she had mentioned whispers from the elite women she associates with that sometimes he even gives an extra treat with his services, free of charge. What that treat is, neither of you know, but the implications are damning.

Even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, presented as if the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner, you’re not interested. For the entire duration of her praising this all-amazing stripper, it hasn’t interested you. There’s shit to do and life to worry about, constantly actually. So, naturally, when she appears at your doorstep with an envelope in hand and yet another expensive bottle of champagne, you were wondering if you forgot your birthday because it wouldn’t be the first time.

She hadn’t pushed past you to come inside, she didn’t say a word actually, which was suspicious but kind of appreciated. Upon opening the small gift, it appears that she, herself, had dropped that $600 down payment in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you are. The note states the date and time, which, curse her for knowing your schedule so well, and the demand that it’s your job to tip him and pretend to have some inkling of an interest.

So now, here you are. Waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for a man coming to swing his meat in your face. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there is a stripper out there that only does private parties, and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look?

Surely, this man is expecting more than just you, alone on your couch with a sound system beyond his wildest dreams, one that you’ve only ever utilized when you need to watch a youtube tutorial on how to clean your windows the way the cleaner does. Surely, he’s expecting more than a woman who isn’t interested at all in this.

To your dismay, Jeno appears to have already been told that you’re a nightmare to fluster or gain interest from. The first words he says to you when you open the door for him is, “She said you’d give me that look.” Still, even so, Jeno saunters in like he owns the place, and you can immediately tell he’s done this probably hundreds of times before. He appears comfortable in a place he’s never been, in a home probably much nicer than his own, finding his way to where his stage should be for the night.

“Big place. Looked smaller on the outside.” He says to your silence, looking around and placing his bag beside your couch.

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You admit, watching him curiously as he pulls wires from his bag.

“Must get lonely.” Jeno shrugs, eyeing how stiff you are as he unravels his chords. “And, I assume, this is why I am being paid to be here.”

“This wasn’t my idea. Just so you’re aware.” You cross your arms, unimpressed by the man already.

“I was told that I need to show you a good time, I already knew you were new to this kind of thing.” He smiles, continuing to set up. “Besides, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.”

Curiosity spikes again, only for a moment though. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual, even. Wasn’t he supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? Showing up and pressing play on a magical-appearing stereo that bumps the worst of music before gyrating at you? Instead, he’s here setting up and surprisingly, fully clothed in a tacky and ratty sweater with jeans that hug against his thighs. He doesn't appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off for lonely hearts. You kind of want to ask him questions, but also you don’t think you should be learning more about him considering that’s not why he’s in your living room right now.

“Do you have mood lighting or are we doing this in morgue lighting?” He casually asks after plugging his laptop into your sound system and placing it on one of the various shelves. It almost makes you laugh.

You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel to show him the various lighting options this room offers that you very rarely use.

“Perfect, that one.” He says from across the room, focusing his eyes from his laptop screen to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides, knowing which lighting accentuates his toned body the best. You turn the nob a bit for him, wondering just how good he must be at dancing for women with houses like this.

“A little more.” He smiles.

You dim the lighting just a smidge more, looking at him and the way he genuinely seems to be at ease.

“Right there.” He says in a gentler tone before focusing his eyes back on his laptop.

You watch him tap his fingers across the keyboard, gliding around the little touchpad, and then, as if he’s the one who owns this house, he takes a step back and walks to your couch.

“Come sit, I’ll go get myself ready.” He smiles over at you as he pats the cushions. “Which way is the bathroom?”

Without a care in the world, you point towards the bathroom and decide he doesn’t need help getting there. Most people would be petrified of a strange man in their home, wandering the halls with the ability to come upon any room with unprotected goods. If he’s a thief of any kind, you can replace pretty much everything you own anyway. You don’t care.

Once he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door close, you make your way to the couch and attempt to make yourself comfortable. Despite the countless naps you’ve had here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t bring yourself to find comfort sitting here right now. You’re curious about Jeno, yes, of course, you are. You’re curious about how much money he makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise, and many other countless things, but you’re not entirely curious about how he does it. Sure, he’s attractive. Hot as hell, actually, but that doesn’t mean you should have to pay for attention from a man.

It almost feels like an insult from your best friend. Does she genuinely think you couldn’t go out right now and bag a man? Is this fun for her? A hobby, maybe?

“You overthink too much,” she always says to you, and yeah, perhaps she’s right. Maybe, since it’s going to happen anyway, you should at least try to enjoy it.

Jeno stays in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, and each of those minutes was like a nightmare in your head. You were back and forth between not wanting to be in this situation, to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very attractive man is preparing himself for you to look at. He’s going to come out here and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy it. The very least you can do is tip him well and rub one out later after he’s gone and you’re on the verge of jumping out a window because you never make time to fuck.

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of the bathroom your brain adjusts itself into the right mind-state. You actually can’t look away from him even if you tried when he reveals himself. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks cheap, tacky, or even overly sexual. If anything, he looks expensive. Jeno genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs.

You can physically feel yourself react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found it sexy in any way, until now, at least. The suit looks much like what your team would wear in your company, shyly coming into your office and stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jeno isn’t stuttering in his suit though. He’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hadn’t even noticed you staring yet.

God, the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. The way the belt held his pants on his hips, begging to be unbuckled, the way the blazer widened his shoulders much better than his sweater from before. The smell that wafted off him was even prettier when paired with the image of him. He smelled like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions maybe. Assuming that scent is the reason his abs were fucking shining. Fucking body oil. He uses body oil.

When he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he had chosen to play accentuating each of his steps towards you, your cheeks start to heat up. He hasn’t rolled his body once and you’re already feeling like you could eat him alive, with the smirk on his face leading your eyes down to his neck, chest, abs, and that fucking belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his arms on either side of you, gripping the back of the couch.

Jeno can already tell that you’re going to be fun to play with. Such a harsh exterior from the beginning. To be fair, he was warned and prepared by your friend, which happens to be his newest client who tipped him more than anyone before.

You nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look when he’s presenting himself like this?

“Rule number one,” He smiles, swaying in front of you and keeping his grip on the couch, mostly so that way you feel trapped and, hopefully, mesmerized by him. “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you give me a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.”

That’s not a problem because, despite your internal protests, you had only pulled out the bigger bills anyway. You nod to him, watching the way his hips start to swirl, too afraid to look up at his face because you know he’s looking down at you, intensely, probably.

“Rule number two.” He leans down, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without asking.”

You almost wanted to reach out immediately to touch him. You wanted to feel how slick that body oil was on him. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later. Mostly, you wanted to feel how warm he must be.

This time he doesn’t wait for you to nod, because he can already see that familiar look on your face that he gets from most of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand.

“Rule number three.” He continues, pulling back and this time positioning his face in front of yours because this one is the most important. This one he needs you to look at his face rather than his body. “I won’t touch you unless ask me to.”

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t one he often states. Sometimes, very rarely, Jeno is in a mood when he goes out on a job. He always has condoms with him just in case, but never intends to use them until meeting said client. She’s paying to look at him, not to touch him. If she piques his interest, he offers a third rule. If a client never hears of the third rule, they know that even if they ask to touch him, he wouldn’t allow it.

Besides, the only reason he took so long in your bathroom is that his hand, for some reason, felt so good against his cock for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and hopefully, you take the bait.

When you swallow and look him dead in the eye, he thinks you know what it means. He feels lucky that his cock is acting up. Lucky that your friend brought him to your attention, lucky that you’re looking so pretty and already so flustered by just looking at him.

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head a bit and waiting for you to nod.

You nod slowly, glancing down at his body again. He can tell you want him to start moving now, really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, pulling back and bracing himself still against the back of your couch. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely sure what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you like.

“It’s good,” You say, glancing away from his eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-sick puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy right now by this man.

He notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song being picked for you, but he doesn’t push it. He’s better at talking with his body anyway.

Jeno begins to focus now, opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up. He backs himself away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a bit more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, so he hopes you’re of the same mind.

This entire playlist is one he picks for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they ask. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through his body in a way that makes him feel like he can move like he’s fucking you from across the room without so much as a touch.

He’s at his best when this sort of thing happens inside of him, the eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed at a reason other than payment, and he feels his most attractive like this too.

You’re sitting painfully stiff across from him on that couch, and he can’t help but keep a smirk plastered on his face for how lucky his other clients would think you are experiencing him like this for your first time of all things. He’s never attempted this with a new client, but god, look at you.

His hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. Jeno easily dances along to the music for you, not yet removing any amount of clothing. It’s the build-up for him, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Though, of course, if he leaves your house tonight with tips in his pockets and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too.

You watch him, seeing the way the dim lighting of the room accentuates each little dip and rise against his chest and abdomen. He’s well-defined, with an immaculate body for this line of work. You find yourself understanding why he’s so favored in the group of lonely women.

As the song begins to fade, Jeno appears to readjust himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It felt intimate, and not at all like the silence needed to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Usually, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. When the next song begins, he closes a bit of distance and skews his body so that you’re now watching him in profile.

In some way, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has at this moment when he’s dropping to his knees during a bass drop, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him, you’re still searching his face.

Only glancing down for a moment, he finds himself flicking his own eyes down, trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking, but when you gasp as his motions, skewing your mouth open slightly and gripping the hem of your dress, he realizes.

The fact that this is your first time doing this is one thing, but the way you are experiencing it appears to be new ground for him. Typically, he speaks with his body, and it appears that now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. So, he does what you’re supposed to be doing.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re not even watching him fuck the air in front of him. His eyes move from yours once again, this time to your body. He watches the way your fingers grip the fabric of the dress he would like to see somewhere on the floor later. He watches the way you slightly rub your legs together, almost too easy to miss. That alone was enough for him as his eyes bore holes into you, much like you should be doing to him.

Jeno’s dancing turns more intentional, when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his eyes on you, he tries to show you what he would do to you specifically. You glance at his hips and the way he rolls them up, not even to the beat of the song.

His blazer begins to slide off his shoulders by this point, and he continues his movements, watching the way your eyes take in the sight of his skin becoming more and more visible, you’re fighting now to keep eye contact as you stare at the way his abs flex when he presses forward. It’s a shame you’re not seeing his cock grow beneath his pants, honestly.

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he finally pulls his eyes from you to try and regain his focus. He wants you so bad right now, and it’s bullshit because you’re supposed to be the one thinking like this for him. He can see that his movements are causing a reaction for you, but god, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him.

It’s time to turn it up a notch, the current song is soon to be replaced with another. His favorite song to dance to, his favorite song to fuck to. Because to be fair, by the time it hits the third song on this specific list, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back, he can fucking see it.

Ignoring the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next move-set, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eye. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to bring his confidence up enough to be seen in any way you’re looking at him.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch his shoulders move in the light, his eyes dark, and his hair starting to fall from its perfected position. You don’t mean to, but you rub your legs together in a more obvious way at seeing him in front of you, coming towards you in such a way.

Jeno looks smaller when he’s on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You wonder if your face reads the same for him, and nervousness begins to hit you again.

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” He says out of nowhere through the music, stopping in place and planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you for this next song, is that okay?”

Never mind the fact that Jeno has never asked to touch a client before. He’s never had to ask. He can’t help it though; it doesn’t hurt to try right? Because his cock is aching in his pants, and he isn’t quite ready to wait for an entire two more songs to get them off just for you to see that he’s very much wanting to fuck you right now.

On the other hand, you were so fucking fast to accept. Yes, yes, he can touch you. You want him to touch you. The entire idea that he’s just doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to see. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck.

Jeno smiles at you as the current song finally begins to fade out. The silence is back and this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod at him.

He’s slow when he places his hands on your knees, rubbing up, up, up, until he’s able to lift himself from his knees and hover over you. Did he intentionally push your dress up your thighs? Yes. He wanted to see you rub them together in full shameless view for him. He wanted to know what his body does to you. Jeno stands hovering over you for a moment, hands staying on your thighs as he stares down at them as you do just as expected. For a moment, he forgets he’s supposed to be dancing for you, hell, he’s already shirtless and covered in oil.

“I’m going to get on top of you, okay?” He explains, removing his hands from your thighs and now gripping the back of the couch again as he did before.

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You ask with a smile, suddenly and intensely into the man spreading his legs to prop himself up on your laugh.

He shakes his head with a laugh, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest.

“You can touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule, not wanting to wait any longer for you to ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling your pussy drip against the fabric of your panties.

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there.

“No,” He admits, beginning to focus on the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all of my clients.” He adds, swirling his hips as he hovers over you, and avoiding eye contact.

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward and back.

“You know,” He suddenly says, guiding your hands a bit lower. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm. You think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the fabric of his pants rubbing harshly against it.

Your pulse begins to ring in your ears as you avoid looking to where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and shooting your gaze up to his. He’s not looking at you though. Jeno has dropped his head, staring at where he’s got your hand, and his hips are dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough,”

You continue to watch him, and then you finally look at your hand. The sheer size of him rubbing against you is…it’s something entirely different than what you were expecting from this man. It feels forbidden; it feels wrong but goddamn. The man is masquerading his dancing so he can fuck himself against your hand right now.

“You’re doing so well, Jeno,” You finally say to him. The first compliment you’ve given him since he got here.

“Oh yeah?” He questions, lifting his head to meet your eyes again. “Unbuckle my pants then.”

Despite this being a part of his job, he’s feeling a little desperate for you to do something on your own now, even if he has to tell you to do it.

“Show me how well I’m doing for you,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, you don’t have to be shy, baby, I saw the way you were squeezing your thighs earlier.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his buckle and pulling it from his pants.

“Keep that with you,” He stresses, pressing his hips forward again as he continues his dance.

Placing the belt beside you, you honestly have no idea what the fuck you’re doing, but you like it. You reach back to unbutton the pants, unzipping them just moments later. Then you still your hands, looking up at him with a curious face.

“Take it out, go on.” He says, “You know you can pull away if you don’t want to do anything, I’m not forcing anything. I’m asking.”

You don’t even nod or pull your eyes away from him, knowing that you’re about to touch his bare cock as he sits spread across your lap. A lewd scene, one that feels both more intimate than you’ve ever been with another person, and also nowhere near as intimate as you need it to be.

Jeno looks at you, so much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable for him as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel his cock spring free, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver on top of you. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs until he sees that look in your eye again. You’re waiting to be told what to do. For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone be seduced by one.

“Touch me,” He says gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence feeling you grasp him in your fist with little effort or fear behind your eyes.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, which is kind of nice. You’re hesitant but willing, and he wonders if he will get to actually touch more of you after this.

Your hand is wrapped around his cock when he focuses his hips. He dances like he normally would for any woman during this song, it just so happens that he blatantly pretends to fuck to this song, because usually, he is fucking to this song. So, his dance is nothing short of fucking your fist. Still, he tries to keep up the act. He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him not to turn the tables and position you so that your leg is on his shoulder and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, dripping panties.

A struggle especially when you tighten your grip on him. He can see your pupils blow out, and he can see the way you’d probably ask for him to touch you much like he did, so he slows his hips a bit, intentionally thrusting slowly into your fist and holding back his own moans of pleasure.

“Sorry,” he says, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “I don’t like getting off on my own.” He adds, now allowing his hips to still just to see if you’d pull your hand back.

You don’t move your hand away, to his surprise, you are actually starting to move your fist on him.

“That’s good,” He groans, looking down at your hand. “It feels good,” He shakes a bit, shivering at the fact that you’re jerking him off now. “Can I stop pretending that I’m dancing for you now?”

You chuckle at him, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you quickly when you watched him chase his pleasure using your hand. He’s so hard and so incredibly thick, you’d be stupid if it didn’t turn you on. You’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging for you to look at him, watch him, touch him. You feel powerful, and you’re used to that. It feels like everything has fallen into place despite this situation being far outside of your comfort zone. You’re finding similarities. Men beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors. So, what if Jeno didn’t beg for your money, he’s begging for your hands on him practically, and apologizing for asking you to do it.

“No,” You say, and you can see the shock on his face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

Jeno’s eyes kind of fall now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time, but you move your hand a bit faster, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told because you’re the one with the money.

He does his best, and honestly, his best far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market in his opinion. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way.

“You’re not going to ask me to touch you more?” He asks meekly, almost as if he’s hiding his face from you now.

You smile in response, pupils blown enough so that you can swallow each movement his body makes as he reluctantly moves to the beat. Honestly, your ears are ringing, and you don’t think you’ve heard a single lyric from the music playing since he placed your hands on him, but you think that should be a given.

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start to speak, now loosening your grip on him just to see him frantically chase the warmth of the little circle your hand makes for him.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks slightly out of breath. “You thought, I let her get me off like this?”

It almost pisses him off that you’d say such a thing to him, but then again, he didn’t exactly tell you that this situation is reserved for very few people.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for someone who couldn’t even look at me properly less than thirty minutes ago.”

You skew an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles back onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect and twitching at the sudden lack of friction.

“You’re talking a lot of shit for a man who needs to cum.”

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing as he leans over you.

“Are you suggesting that you’ll make me cum if I stop talking?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness that has formed between them as he was on top of you.

“You know,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “She told me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you, I wasn’t expecting that they were the ones getting you off.”

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your pussy in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please.

“Go on, dance.” You say, “You’re still wearing your pants.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along.

He raises a brow at you as he steps back, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jeno does as he’s told, keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress when you do it, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with your chest as you do it.

He stays behind you now, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows the hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers clash with whatever you’re radiating back at him.

He continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again because that’s the one spot you already let him touch.

“Spread your legs for me.” He gently demands between lyrics.

Jeno watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs fall open. Your dress is hiked up past your waist now, enough that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy.

“Ask me to touch you.” He says against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “I just need to know that you want it.”

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you. You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it. Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this.

“I’m not asking for it.” You finally say, breathing in deep by the way his hands keep rubbing higher and higher, to the point that it’s genuinely difficult to not ask for it. “I want to be the one granting permission, Jeno.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you.

“Oh.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that isn’t your panty line or pussy.

“Can I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?”

You could mistake this distance as something that should be closed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him.

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him.

He breathes in, giving you the same smirk that appears on his face each time you entertain him a bit too much.

“Will you take my fingers?” He asks again, this time already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping baby; I can imagine they’d slide right in.”

Typically, you wouldn’t like being called that, but he’s done it twice now and each time it had your stomach in knots over it. His voice sounds like honey when he says it to you, and his darkened eyes only made it feel like there was some sort of desperation behind it. Finally, you press your hips up against his fingers.

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He continues, tracing his fingers up and down just to feel the sticky mess that’s there for him and him alone. “Moving your hips isn’t an answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it.

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him.

You can hear him release a breathy laugh and lay his head back beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he solely intends to listen to you now more than the music. He continuously presses his cock against the couch, holding his hips in place as he tenses his muscles throughout the time he’s spent in this position.

Your hips lightly chase his fingers. They go up when his fingers trace down, and he can’t help but smile at the way he’s getting exactly what he wants despite your sudden change of personality towards him. He likes this version of you better, if he’s being honest.

Jeno finally reaches around you and pulls at your panties, harshly tugging them down your legs as far as his arms can reach. He watches as you push them further down, kicking them onto the floor and relaxing back against the couch.

“Eager?” He tries to tease, but he knows you won't respond, and you dont. He just continues, now allowing himself to feel your bare pussy for the first time. Sure, he can’t see it in full right now, but sometimes just feeling was enough for him.

“You’re so wet right now—” He groans, pressing his cock against the back of the couch again, chasing any amount of friction he can have. His fingers slip into places he hadn’t even attempted to touch yet solely because of how wet you are. “You held out for so long.” He coos, teasing around your hole and chuckling at the way your breathing has grown a bit labored by this alone.

When you grab his hand though, practically forcing him to drive his fingers into you, he’s taken by surprise. The warmth envelops his digits in a way that is audible and excruciatingly sexy to him. He doesn’t even attempt to hold back now.

“They really did slip right in–” He rasps against your neck, scissoring his fingers into you and feeling how you clench around them. His mind is racing. “I bet you could take my cock so well.”

He’s talking to himself more than you right now, smelling your hair and becoming obsessed with the way you feel, look, and smell when you’re within inches of him like this. Better yet, he knows you won’t respond to a single thing he says but it doesn’t matter too much considering you’re starting to let out little whimpers.

“What was that?” He asks, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Let me hear you, baby, make that sound again.” He adds as he pushes your chin back, resting his hand flush across your neck and practically holding you down that way as he begins to plunge his fingers into you.

“You can do it right?” He’s still talking, still humping your couch, still fucking you so good with his fingers. “Come on, do it again.”

It’s like he’s working for it, and god, he’s doing so well. You can’t help it when you let out a choked moan, his hand straining your neck enough that any sound would come out strained and desperate. You can feel his grasp tighten against your neck as his fingers fuck faster, harder. His palm is placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed harshly. It’s incredibly overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck–again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder so that he can look down at you again. He’s heard you, now he wants to see how desperate you are.

When you open your eyes again, all you can see is his face, all you can feel are his long fingers pressing in spots that haven’t been played with in a long time. You smell only his sweet, musky body oil, and jesus christ it’s hitting you in every spot that feels good. You can feel the cold metal of the rings on his fingers against your neck, and when he tightens his hand even more than before, another choked-out moan falls from your lips.

You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment of pleasure, watching the way his teeth appear and scrape at his bottom lip when you make noises for him. So, you do it again, and again, and again.

He fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palm rubbing harshly at your clit, and his other hand around your throat– honestly you could fucking sing songs to him in this moment.

“You’re shaking,” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile is so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand as hard as he thinks you can handle can after the fact. It doesn’t even cross his mind that you don’t want this, the way you’re moaning for him is all he needs to know that you’re into this, that you like being choked and fucked.

When you moan out yet again, he releases his hand from your throat and leans down to your lips. He’s only a bit shocked that you don’t even hesitate to kiss him. What he wanted to do was degrade you, but now he’s just tasting the way you’re desperately trying to kiss him and if he’s wanting to be real right now, that was way better than his own idea.

He doesn’t kiss his clients, but at this point, things have already lasted much longer and have gotten far more intimate than they ever have with those few lucky women. He’s never asked for it, he’s never gotten so much pleasure out of finger fucking them, and he’s not once ever fucked against a couch to chase his high.

Pupils blown, he allows himself to kiss you, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. You kiss him better than he’s ever been kissed before and falling into it was terrifyingly easy. His hand moves on its own accord, cupping your jaw as he attempts to deepen the kiss past his comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it.

“You can take it, right?” He pulls back in a breath, waiting for you to open your eyes and look at him. “My cock, please.”

Your eyes widen, somehow managing to forget that he’s been totally neglected through all of his. Are you really about to fuck this stripper? The man you were against meeting? The man who has $600 dollars in his bank account from your lovely, beautiful, amazing best friend? The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs it up and moves on as if it never happened? The answer is yes.

“I can.” You look up at him, intentionally fucking yourself on his fingers now because it appears he’s stopped functioning altogether.

Within a second, his fingers are out of you and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still out of his pants that are also still at his thighs. He goes directly to his bag, and as if he knew it was going to happen, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

“Oh,” You let out in a huff, disappointed.

He raises his eyes to you as he lets his pants fall to his ankles and steps out of them but his face isn’t concerned nor bothered. Honestly, he has to be able to read minds or something.

“No, I don’t do this with all of my clients. I’m a man and I have needs. Needs that require protection sometimes.”

You only nod, in awe of the fact that he knows what the fuck to always say. And just as quickly as he left from you, he’s back, lifting your dress and attempting to take it off of you.

“Can I see?” He asks, still tugging as he stands in front of you.

Your pussy is aching, and you can feel the couch beneath you soaked through and probably leaving an embarrassingly large spot for you to cry about later because this fucking couch was expensive, but whatever. So is Jeno.

Lifting your arms, he slips the dress off of you and instantly presses your breasts together as he stares at them. He doesn’t hesitate this time to snatch your bra off of you either, the second your bare nipples are perked up in front of him he’s got his mouth on one and the other being pinched between his fingers.

“Right here?” He mumbles around your nipple as he savors the quick moment of seeing you in full for probably the first and only time. “You want me to fuck you here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question wasn’t clear in the first place.

You don’t even care at this point, but, you’ve been sitting in this position for far too long and, more than anything, you want him to be the one looking up at you again. Just like when he started his second dance, crawling on the floor towards you and looking so small for such a cocky man.

“No.” you say, lacing your fingers into his hair and pushing his lips to your other nipple, just to feel the warmth of his tongue flicking against it.

“No?” He questions, sucking your nipple harshly and allowing it to pop from his lips as he looks at you. “Where, then?”

You smile at him, finally sitting yourself up fully from the slouched, lazy position you were in. Your legs close as you stand to your feet in front of him, but he still dips his head to get his lips around your nipple again.

Holding him there, your legs almost buckle at the way he slightly groans around it, sending vibrations through your chest and straight to your clit. You’re gentle when you shuffle forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze against your perked-up nub in a sad release do you realize that he’s… needier than you expected. His brows are furrowed, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him onto the couch so you can straddle him, and it’s cute, actually. He was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it. But now, looking at him, it felt good.

As quickly as his brows furrowed in disappointment that your tit was no longer in his mouth, his brows lift right back up in relief when you plant yourself on his lap and grind against his cock.

It’s the first slippery touch that he’s felt all night, and honestly, he’s been on edge this entire time. You grind against him so beautifully that for the first time, he’s completely speechless.

“You’re really cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist. “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at all and instead melts into it. His cheeks are a different shade now as he leans forward to resume his antics from before. All you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping against your clit, and you’ll never forgive yourself for not making more time for this.

When his teeth begin to graze a bit harsher, and his hands start to push and pull you faster against him, you finally do it.

Angling yourself perfectly, you slide forward, perk your ass out, and then pull him back by his hair to look at him. Already, the moment he opens his eyes and looks at you, he knows.

He thrusts his hips up one time and feels the way your pussy grips around his cock with perfect aim. He slides in so fucking easily, so fast, that he’s almost seeing stars at how good it feels. He grunts heavily, feeling your grip on his hair tighten through your own overwhelming experience of being filled up.

Both of you let out a long and breathy groan at the sensation, you couldn’t help it, you had to grip onto something and it wasn't intentionally his hair but god, he seemed to love it when you dio it. When you finally regain your senses, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows hard.

“Move.” You say harshly, feeling the way his cock pulses in place inside of you, and at this point you want him to make good on what he thinks you can do. You can take his cock but can he handle your pussy? It’s looking bleak, but sometimes that’s more fun anyway.

He whimpers when he squints his eyes at you, unable to fully open them as he loses himself to the feelings of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you’re holding his head back. Jeno didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned, if he moves right now, he’s going to cum. So, he doesn't. Instead, he smirks and lets his eyes close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, but incredibly turned on by the way you’ve completely lost him, you start to bounce. Each time your ass hits against his thighs, he moans, and each time you grind forward, dragging your clit into his abdomen, he tenses up for you, and it’s like he’s so here but not at the same time.

“Look how pathetic you are right now,” You whisper out, hearing the wet of your pussy echo through the long-forgotten music that’s playing. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head at you with a lazy smile as if to insinuate ‘damn fucking right I can’t.’ He’s proud of it, but you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he’s going to break his fingers.

“Keep going baby,” He somehow manages to say to you without a moan at all in his voice. “No one has ever fucked me like this,”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, at least that’s what you thought. His voice still sounds like honey and his cock feels impressively hard inside of you that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it. He wants you to fuck him.

“Yeah?” You boast, feeling the power go to your head as you opt for grinding rather than bouncing. Your hips are erratic as he tenses up for you. You can feel your clit hitting perfectly each time and if you were to keep going, you could cum within seconds.

You can’t even finish your thought when you look down at him. His eyes are squeezed shut and his mouth is open in a silent moan, you can see that he’s not able to take in a breath at all. You release his hair, watching the way he allows his head to fall against the cushions in what you can only assume is a pure euphoric high.

“Are you cumming right now?” You ask, out of breath.

When he doesn’t respond and you feel his hips stutter under you despite remaining static since he’s gotten inside of you, you know that now is the time.

You grind harshly, pressing your clit against him and rutting against his abdomen so that his cock is only slightly fucking into you while you chase your own high, but, alas, his fingers tighten on you.

His eyes shoot open as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t stop. The pain is intense from how hard you’re going on top of him, but he can see you reach your high and the image alone lets him push through the sensitivity of his post-orgasm discomfort.

Jeno seethes out praise to you as your walls squeeze against his softening cock. He studies your face, studies the way you try to close your legs around him despite being forced to stay open, and he thinks he might be a little too fond of the way your hands grip and squeeze his arms for leverage as you shake through the orgasm.

It hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. After all, it kind of feels like he’s been in this room for days. Surely, he’s stayed past his allotted time frame, and surely he’s given you something far more valuable than an expensive lap dance.

When you slump over him, his cock is so fucking sensitive that he almost starts to tear up, but thankfully you were sensitive too it seems. You were gentle when you held the base of his cock, holding the condom in place as you allow him to slip out of you.

The playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jeno to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame, and now all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven to move and go home.

“You okay?” You ask, noting the silence and his struggle to breathe with you on top of him. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, face making no readable expression. “Hey, Jeno?” You ask again, tapping his cheek.

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving over to look at you.

“That, um…” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does.

The change in the atmosphere almost freaks out you, but you try to stay calm. You saw the way he lost himself there, despite it not at all being rough or incredibly kinky. You’re confused as to why he’s acting like this, and maybe you even feel a bit guilty.

Without another word, you lift yourself onto your weak legs and stumble to find your dress. You throw it on so quickly, and it’s the only time you’ve ever felt the need to cover yourself so fast. Still silent, you head to your purse and grab every single hint of cash you have. Some two thousand or so.

Just like that, you place the cash into Jeno’s hands as he comes back to himself.

“What’s this?” He asks, looking at the sheer amount of cash in his hand. It was kind of the last thing on his mind.

“Your tip.” You try to say casually, still doing your best to catch your breath. “You can shower too if you want.”

Jeno nods, hoping to god that you don’t think he fucked you for money just now. No, he showed up for the money. Whatever happened after was because he wanted it, and he still does. Are you truly strictly business like this? You just handed him his rent for the month and then some, but for some reason it amazes him. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women.

“Shower with me?” He asks suddenly, trying to lighten to mood from whatever the fuck just crept in through the silence.

He feels comforted when you smile, nodding to him with a step forward.

Did Jeno end up spending the night free of charge? Yes. Did he try to have a serious talk with you in the early hours of the morning, about how this is not genuinely something he does? Absolutely.

Did you believe him? Surprisingly.

After the shower, the mood shifted into something that felt natural. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over for a down payment of $600, he was Jeno, a man trying to make ends meet in a city too expensive for even you.

Wanted he was, by several women of course. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely heart with him. Not to fall in love, nothing like that. If anything, you want to take care of him, and when he grimaced at your joke, calling him your “sugar baby”, he was quick to perk up when he realized you were being serious.

It was your turn to set the rules and, possibly, break them.

“Rule number one, come to me if you’re short on money. No, you don’t have to fuck me for it, but I’m sure you’d probably want to.”

He nodded happily.

“Rule number two, stop fucking your clients. If you need to fuck, come over. Just look pretty for them and come back to me, yeah?”

The way he nodded harder that time was a pleasant surprise.

“Rule number three.”

He gasps in a show of mock shock. “The forbidden rule–” He whispers, sinking further into your blankets with a laugh.

“If–” You pause, thinking hard about if you should even assume. You forego anyway, it’s a forbidden rule for a reason. “If either of us start to like, feel things, we have to actually communicate and see where we want to go from there.”

He nods again, a glint in his eye shining brighter than he realizes. This is the first time he’s slept at a client’s house, the first time a woman has ever gotten him so fucked up. You had him down bad. He thinks he should probably stop calling you a client as well. The short-lived title turning into something he always dreamed of, though he figured it wouldn’t have happened so quickly. Sugar Mommy.

#jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #nct-writers #neohub #lee jeno smut #jeno fic #nct fic #lee jeno fic #nct dream fic

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marvelsswansong · 2 years

Note

I need more protective Eddie munson in my life! 😫 could you maybe do a request for me where she just got a car and they're driving around and maybe get into a wreck? Then he's a wreck bc he's worried about her.

tags: Eddie x fem!reader, descriptions of blood and physical injuries, heavy angst at the beginning but happy ending, lots of fluff don't worry, your friends being awesome (Steve, Robin, Nancy and Jonathan), Hopper being a protective father figure as always, light descriptions of weed usage, inaccurate descriptions of what happens in an ER.....

☆ word count: 3.2K+ ☆

a/n: omg anon yesssss - I changed the prompt a teeny bit to make the story work but I loved this idea and I loved being able to write worried/protective Eddie 😭😘

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

Eddie's leaning by the side of his trailer, watching lazily as whispy puffs of air from the end of his lit joint disappear into the night sky. It's a quiet night and there's not much on his mind - maybe except for the date he's planned with you tomorrow, and the adorable way you'd smiled when he'd revealed that he'd planned a picnic for the two of you.

The silence is then interrupted when he hears the horrible sounds of tires screeching by the road. Eddie frowns - it's nine pm on a Tuesday, who could be in such a rush?

Then Steve appears from the clearing in between the trees, running like a madman, frantically looking around at the rows of trailers before his eyes narrow in on Eddie. Eddie quickly disregards his joint and places steadying hands on Steve's shoulders, attempting to calm his friend down.

"Woah, Harrington, what's the rush-"

"(Y/n)." is all Steve can get out in between harsh breaths, doubling over and breathing harshly in pain as he's out of breath. Eddie's veins go ice cold at the mention of your name, his mind immediately flipping through the worst scenarios imaginable as his hands drop involuntarily.

"W-what about her?"

"There was an accident. She's in the emergency room and they're not letting any of us fucking see her because we're not family-"

Before Steve can even finish his sentence Eddie is dashing to his van and pulling out from the driveway, his only focus on reaching the hospital in record time. He's not sure how many traffic laws he's violating as he swerves corners, cuts off vehicles and runs red lights, but he can't find it in himself to give a single fuck. There's an anxious ringing in his head, a pit forming in his stomach, his hands gripping the steering wheel so tight that his skin is turning red.

When he finally bursts into the hospital room, Steve's quick to follow, having followed behind Eddie in his own vehicle. It's not hard to locate the others - Robin is pacing back and forth anxiously, Jonathan is sitting next to Nancy and trying to comfort her, and Hopper is desperately trying to get the nurse to let them see you. It's an absolute mess of nervous adults, the tension in the room thick, as Eddie quickly runs up to Hopper and taps him on the shoulder.

"What's going on?" he asks the older man, who sighs in frustration.

"Since her parents are out of town and being her emergency contact isn't enough to grant access, they're not letting me in to see her."

The nurse behind them both frowns, an apologetic smile on her tired face.

"I'm really sorry, sir, but it's standard procedure that during intensive surgery we limit visitors to immediate family members. Though, if you and your party are willing to wait, we'll be able to let you in once she's in a more stable state."

"How long will that take?" Robin asks, to which the nurse looks down at her notes before looking back up.

"It'll depend on how the current surgery goes... but it's not uncommon for it to take about five to six hours."

Eddie's blood is burning, he feels as if he can't breathe - you're in some cold dark room, on the brink of your life, being prodded and operated on. And they want him to wait five to six hours before he can hold your hand and assure you it's all going to be okay? It's a horrific thought, one he can't bear.

Hopper gives up, nodding quietly before sitting back down to thumb through a random magazine on the waiting room table, but Eddie's persistent. A dangerous idea then creeps into his mind.

"Could I see (Y/n) (L/n), please?" he asks quietly, causing the nurse raises her eyebrow in suspicision.

"Your relationship to the patient?" she questions and Eddie hopes she can't see through his next lie.

"She's my fiancée."

The lie rolls off his tongue too easily and he can feel Hopper and his friends' suprised gazes burn into his back, as Eddie smiles and gestures to the ring on his right hand: golden metal with a bumblebee shaped ornament in the middle. He'd gotten you a matching one for your birthday last year, and you'd jokingly put it on your ring finger when Eddie had teased it wasn't your engagement ring 'yet.'

"She has an identical one on her left hand. We got engaged last December." Eddie continues as the nurse narrows her eyes at the ring.

The nurse then turns to whisper to another employee, who nods before disappearing into the back room. After a few tense minutes, the employee returns, nodding and confirming that you indeed look to be wearing an engagement ring matching Eddie's.

"Alright then. You'll have to stay behind the red line, but you're allowed to observe her from afar. But you must leave if any of the doctors order you to do so."

Eddie shoots a confident look at his friends - assuring them that he'll be fine and that he'll keep them updated on your condition - before wordlessly following behind the nurse, his body nearly shaking with anxiety. The room he's led to feels miles away, the sterile stench of disenfectant and harsh cleaning products filling the air as he walks down the endless white corridor. Finally, the nurse stops, before opening up a set of doors leading to the surgery room.

His heart feels as if a dagger's been plunged into it with the greatest force imaginable. Through the glass window separating him from the actual room, he can make out your face - bruised, scratched, your hair matted with blood - and almost nothing else as the rest of your body is practically covered under blankets of surgical tarp. There's a whole team of people rushing around you with all kinds of equipment, an IV machine dripping fluids into your left arm and your heartbeat monitor beeping obnoxiously.

Eddie swallows nervously when he sees that there's so much blood. He doesn't know if you've broken any bones or what the extent of the damage is, but the amount of blood staining the sheets is enough of an indicator. When his eyes narrow in on the little glint on your finger - the gold ring on your left hand - it breaks him, sending him to his knees as he breaks down in tears.

It's pathetic, really, he berates himself for crying in public. But he hasn't ever felt this hopeless, at the mercy of fate, begging time to go faster so he can hold your hand again and whipser in your ears to come back to him. He doesn't know how much time passes until he's completely out of tears, staring dead-eyed at his reflection, half-consciously registering the nurse's comment that he needs to leave now.

When Eddie drags himself back to the waiting room, the room stills. Hopper is the first to stand up, alarm in his eyes, as everyone else turns to look at Eddie. It's a completely unfamiliar sight to them, seeing Eddie cry, and it puts them all on edge.

"What's the news? How's she doing?"

Eddie lets out a shaky sigh, screaming at himself to keep his shit together. You had people who cared about you and were worrying about you, the least he could do was manage to say what he saw.

"They were... doing all these things to her. God, Hopper, she looks awful. There's so much blood and she looked so... lifeless, just laying there. I don't even-" Eddie wants to remain calm, he wants to say that you looked worse for wear but that you'd probably pull through, but the words feel foreign and difficult.

He doesn't know if it's too optimistic to say but he thinks it'll all work out, or if it's too late to try and save the mood. All he can feel is the crushing weight on his chest, and suddenly the entire room feels too small for him.

"I-I need to get out. Call me if anything changes." is all Eddie can blurt out before sprinting out the door, leaning against the hospital wall with heavy breaths.

It's a cold night and he's glad for it, the chilly breeze soothing his flaming skin as he slides down onto the pavement. He's spiraling and catastrophizing when he feels a gentle hand on his shoulder, bringing him back to reality. To his surprise, it's Nancy, who sits down on the cold pavement next to him, Jonathan's jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

"It's okay to cry, you know." she starts out, glancing at him from the corner of her eyes.

"I know." Eddie responds quietly, staring at the ground.

She smiles at him sadly.

"Seriously though. If you need to cry, vent, scream, throw something, let your emotions out... as long as you're not hurting anyone or yourself, it's fine. And even necessary in moments like these."

Eddie nods slowly, allowing her logical advice to register in his brain as he leans backwards against the harsh brick wall. He doesn't have much to offer her in terms of company or conversation but she seems to be understanding of it, simply keeping him company in silence.

"Thank you." is all he can manage to say in return. She smiles, this time a bit brighter.

"Of course."

After about half an hour, Eddie feels calm enough to re-enter, where the nurse is now back with an update.

"The surgery went well, but there are some additional procedures that need to be performed in order to make sure her vitals are steady. I'm afraid this is going to be a process which lasts a few days."

Eddie opens his mouth to object but Hopper cuts in as the oldest, giving the younger man a commanding glare.

"Of course. We'll swing by when we have time. Please call me if there are any significant updates." is Hopper's polite response.

Everyone then gets up to leave except for Eddie, who takes off his leather jacket and forces himself to get comfortable in a nearby chair. Steve raises an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't you be heading home? You heard the nurse, this could last a few days."

Eddie forces a grin, shaking his head.

"I know, I'll... I'm just going to stay a bit longer, and then I'll head home. You all go ahead first."

It's a lie and once everyone leaves, Eddie falls asleep at around two am out of pure exhaustion, his neck awkwardly leaning against the window. He wakes up at around six then forces himself to go to the nearest gas station to grab a shitty breakfast, then he's back to his spot in the waiting room.

Over the next few days, he sees your friends visit here and there. Steve and Robin drop by after their shift at Family Video, both of them trying to coax Eddie to get some proper sleep, but Eddie refuses and insists that he's getting 'good enough sleep' here on that plastic chair. Hopper drops by every few hours, a sad look on his face when he sees that Eddie is almost always there, in the same spot, looking absolutely miserable. Nancy and Jonathan bring along a basket of food when they next visit and hand it off to Eddie, which Eddie accepts gratefully. It seemed that word had gotten around that Eddie hasn't left the waiting room since your accident.

Eddie's grateful that Nancy and Jonathan at the very least don't push him to leave, though he can tell by their pitying gaze and gentle questions that they're worried about him. But Eddie doesn't care. He can't stand the thought of not being here when you're finally stable and awake, and he's not even sure if he'll be able to sleep much if he drives back home and falls into his own bed.

The only form of entertainment in the ER waiting room - bar the occasional arguments between family members sitting next to him and the countertop magazines stacked on the tables - is the small television hung by the counter, stuck on the same channel 24/7. Right now, it's playing a re-run of the Golden Girls, and a sad smile appears on Eddie's face as he's reminded of how much you love that show.

Eddie then feels a light tap on his shoulder, the same nurse from three days ago standing in front of him with a bright smile on her face. It's a remarkably different expression to how she's been looking over at him and the others the past few days: sadness, worry and sympathy.

"She's awake and stable. Would you like to see-"

"Yes!" Eddie practically shouts, interrupting the rest of the nurse's sentence and attracting the rest of the room's attention. He coughs awkwardly, realizing that he's probably being a bit rude. "Please."

The walk to your room is short and you're lying against a semi-propped bed, thumbing through a book with a bored expression on your face. The call from the nurse that you've got a visitor makes you look up from your book, your heart thundering in excitement when your eyes fall onto Eddie's perfect face.

"Eddie-"

He's quick to run to you and hug you tight, loosening his grip when you pat his shoulder gently with a laugh, reminding him that you're still a bit sore. He blushes in embarassment, weakening his hold but not letting you go as his hands gently cradle your face. He turns your face in every single angle imaginable, as if examining your skin for any visible damage.

"How are you feeling? Does anything hurt? Did you break anything? Do you want anything? I can run down to the van and drive to-" he's rambling like a crazed man, his eyes methodically scanning you up and down whilst he's listing every little thing you could ever need.

It's not until you softly squeeze his hand that he stops.

"I'm fine, Eddie. I have a fractured rib and a concussion, but the worst of it is over. I'm on medication and I feel fine." you reassure him, dragging your thumb over his palm to remind him of your presence. Eddie doesn't seem fully convinced, however, before he's rattling off again.

"Okay, then how about food? Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

You chuckle, pointing to the bedside table with a half-empty tray and glass of water.

"It's a hospital, Eddie. They've been taking care of me just fine."

He pouts at that, scooting closer towards you.

"That's supposed to be my job."

Eddie looks like a wounded puppy, his gaze a mix of worry and adoration, and it makes your heart melt at how sweet your boyfriend is. You lick your lips and then press a chaste kiss on his lips, hoping he doesn't realize how dry your lips are.

"You've done more than enough, babe. I heard that you've been camping out in the waiting room the past few days." you tease, which makes Eddie chuckle.

"Couldn't stand the thought of being far away from you, princess. Besides, it was kind of fun. Like a really... shitty camping trip."

The warm atmosphere in the room turns semi-chaotic again when you notice Hopper and all your friends rushing into the room, Steve holding an awkwardly large 'get well soon' boquet of flowers and Robin and Nancy being the first to tackle you in a group hug, Robin practically shoving Eddie out of the way. Eddie would complain, but it's clear that your closest friends have been just as worried as he's been, so he decides to let it be.

"Aw, you guys shouldn't have." you chuckle, accepting a box of chocolates from Jonathan and a card from Hopper. They all interrogate you similar to Eddie - how you're feeling, if anything hurts, if you need anything - and it makes you smile so much to the point your face hurts.

"We're so glad to see that you're okay now, (Y/n). We were all so worried." Hopper notes, leaning against the railings of your bed. Steve then chuckles, shooting a not so subtle glance at Eddie.

"Yeah, but Eddie worried the most. Even broke the rules to see you."

You raise your eyebrows at that, ignoring Eddie's protests to drop the topic.

"Do tell - what did my loving boyfriend do whilst I was gone?" you question, amused.

"Eddie told the nurse that he was your fiancée in order to see you whilst you were still in surgery." Nancy tells you with a teasing smile, causing you to cock your head in confusion.

"How did he-" you cut yourself off, your right hand automatically going to grasp the golden ring on your left hand. The action and the clear realization dawning on your face makes everyone break out in laughter, minus Eddie, who is blushing furiously from the corner of the room.

After half an hour, the nurse comes in to dismiss everyone, though she tells Eddie that he can stay a bit longer as the fiancée. None of your friends correct the nurse, all of them winking and giggling behind the nurse's back, before you turn around to look at Eddie. He's staring right at the floor, playing with his rings whilst avoiding looking at you.

"Eddie." you call out his name.

"Hm?" he asks, but he's still looking at the floor and his cheeks are still red. You sigh, patting the space next to you in bed.

"Come here, please."

He gingerly shuffles into the space next to you in bed, as you rest your head on his shoulder and pull up the hand with the matching golden ring in front of you. Playing with his matching ring, you smile.

"You're absolutely adorable, you know that? Lying to see little old me?" your tone is light-hearted and Eddie grumbles.

"Was not adorable. It was a life or death situation." he pouts, and you laugh, patting his thigh.

"Okay, I'm sorry for teasing, babe. What I meant was that I think it's really sweet that you camped out for nights outside in the waiting room and that you lied to be able to see me quicker."

A few moments of silence passes and Eddie carefully shifts in his place to look down at you. You look a bit tired - that's to be expected - but now under the golden sunlight streaming through the curtains, your face is vibrant and illuminated. Your hair's framing your face perfectly, your skin is warm against his, and your delicate fingers are drawing circles into his hand. Something shifts in him, he's not too sure what, but his gut tells him it's right.

"It doesn't have to be a lie." Eddie gently suggests, making your back straighten in surprise.

"W-what?"

Eddie takes a deep breath before pulling you off of him carefully.

"I love you. You love me. And the past few days have taught me time is fleeting and I can't take our time together for granted. So..." he shifts nervously beside you, before linking his hands with yours and kissing your palm. "What do you say? Wanna be my real fiancée?"

This time it's Eddie telling you to loosen up your grip when you bring him down for a crushing hug, extending your arms around his neck and nodding furiously into the crevice of his chest.

"Yes, yes, 100% yes."

His smile is blinding - pure, unadultered joy - before his signature smirk returns, pointing to your ring.

"Well, technically you already said yes, but a 100% yes is good too."

You roll your eyes but he cuts you off with a kiss, gentle and sweet, his teeth biting your lower lip. It makes you dizzy and hot all at once and the rest of the hospital room melts away in a euphoric haze, the only sensation being Eddie against you.

-> a/n: UGH I AM SUCH A SUCKER FOR HAPPY ENDINGS AND FLUFF uwu also please excuse the fact that most of this wouldn't happen irl in terms of hospital operations and who can see who I just needed the story to work a certain way lmao. If you enjoyed it, please leave a like/comment/reblog so I know to write more :)

❤️ Drink water, nourish your body and be kind to yourself today ❤️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagine #1k #2k

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wambsgansshoelaces · 2 months

Note

omg a headcanon like the one you did for tom but for roman snd stewy? the period one i mean !! also gender neutral pls :>

thank you for requesting anon, i love u!!! enjoy xx

really craving pizza bianca rn

on your period (roman + stewy)

Roman

ᝰ has no idea what he’s doing

ᝰ he calls your period a full stop because ‘they’re synonyms lol’ (as his text said)

ᝰ just wants you happy

ᝰ so whenever you’re on your period he just

ᝰ does things for you??

ᝰ makes you breakfast in bed, attempts to pack you a lunch, botches dinner

ᝰ he’s trying at least

ᝰ he usually just settles for buying you whatever you’re craving and letting you lay your head in his lap

ᝰ he strokes your hair, your face, your neck, your back

ᝰ he makes sure you’re feeling good

ᝰ lots of chocolate all the time

ᝰ just so that he can eat it with you

ᝰ if you ever ruin any pants or clothing or even furniture, he replaces it without you knowing

ᝰ “didn’t i throw this pair of pants out last week?” you ask him one time

ᝰ “i got you a new one, don’t worry about it.”

ᝰ if you suffer with cramps or any sort of chronic illness regarding your reproductive health, he’s always quietly concerned

ᝰ “you sure it doesn’t hurt? you should tell me if it hurts.”

ᝰ keeps track of how long in between painkillers your pain returns

ᝰ makes you try a bunch of homemade remedies he googled

ᝰ the first time you go on your period while you’re living together, he goes out and buys you a heating pad, a weighted blanket, and a heated blanking thing all at once

ᝰ if you use pads or tampons, he gets really confused when out trying to buy some for you

ᝰ but he’s too embarrassed to ask

ᝰ so when you’re taking a nap he scuttles into the bathroom and takes a picture that he keeps on his phone

ᝰ and then gets the exact ones when he notices you’re running out or you ask him

ᝰ this man bullies the doctors that don’t listen to you

ᝰ like he is well known with the endocrinologists and gynecologists in the are as a nusiance

ᝰ and lowkey an asshole

ᝰ but it’s all ‘in your honor’ as he says

ᝰ “if they say they’re cramping, they’re cramping. aren’t you supposed to be helpful? how the fuck do you have a medical license?”

ᝰ has gotten kicked out of the appointment many a time

ᝰ but he always waits patiently for you outside

ᝰ and calls corporate like the diva he is

ᝰ has the means to get you the best care

ᝰ and he does get you it

ᝰ “you literally deserve so much more than i can give you. you’re my everything, remember?”

ᝰ “i love you, ro.”

ᝰ “fuck off with that sappy shit…. i love you more.”

Stewy

ᝰ knows enough about periods to be able to help you

ᝰ like he’s knowledgeable enough to cook things he knows your body is in need of during your period of ovulation

ᝰ urges you to work out specifically on your period

ᝰ “it helps clear your head,” he says

ᝰ but if you’re not up to it, he won’t make you

ᝰ maybe just a small walk around outside and he’ll let you just nap

ᝰ but if you even don’t even want to walk, he thinks you’re dying

ᝰ and showers you in affection

ᝰ which he does anyway even if he thinks you’re fine??

ᝰ he’s just dramatic

ᝰ he’s an awfully good cook

ᝰ he loves cooking

ᝰ especially for you

ᝰ he specifically makes you pho for dinner every first day of your period

ᝰ “it clears your sinuses, babe,” he says every single time

ᝰ it does, really

ᝰ he’s really big about the two of you sitting down at the table for meals

ᝰ but if you’re unable because of your period, it’s fine with him

ᝰ he bought one of those breakfast in bed trays just for those moments

ᝰ if you struggle with bad cramps or reproductive illness, he’s with you at every single appointment

ᝰ sometimes he even sits next to you on the patient bed

ᝰ he just likes swinging his legs over the side

ᝰ he scrambles off whenever the doctor comes in

ᝰ he’s so subtly evil with bad doctors

ᝰ “oh, i understand it’s your professional opinion, but i also understand this clinic operates solely on donations? huh, and i think those guys whose names are on plaques all over the place are my buddies! you know jeff? i know jeff!”

ᝰ holds your hand through everything

ᝰ pain, ultrasounds, examinations

ᝰ you’re both walking back to the car from a normal check up and he’s swinging your hands back and forth with his

ᝰ “you know, i’ll help you with anything you ask me to.”

ᝰ “thank you, stew. you’re sweet.”

ᝰ “i love you.”

#roman roy #stewy hosseini #roman roy x reader #stewy hosseini x reader #succession #succession hbo #succession x reader #wambsgansshoelaces #anon ask #succession headcanons

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hard-core-super-star · 7 months

Note

Tmz vacation pictures. My bad.

the sweetest torture one could bear [H.Steinfeld]

full request: Hi, I have part of a request. Aha, I didn't know what else to put with it, so do with that what you will. Instead of JA being in the videos and photos with Hailee, it's Reader.

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

warnings: enemies-to-lovers type vibe with a semi-happy ending; PR relationship + stunts; like two JA mentions; R being a jerk to hailee and vice versa; so many petty arguments and hidden feelings; R is technically also famous but it never gets expanded upon whoops; 110% got carried away because of lacy by olivia rodrigo

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i know you said you didn't have anything in mind, lovely anon, but i think i took your idea and RAN with it. i just needed someplace to put all the emotions hailee's been bringing out of me lately with the stupid JA situation so i can continue to write fics for her. that's why the NY stunt is still a thing that happens in this fic. hope you enjoy despite how scathing some of my comments can be in this <3

* * * * * * *

Dating a famous celebrity is supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you imagine things would be like if you were dating anyone but Hailee freaking Steinfeld.

Although, to be fair, the word dating technically doesn’t apply to your situation.

Even calling it a PR relationship is incredibly generous. You’re pretty much just damage control after whatever mess happened in New York with her and that quarterback.

Of course, it was a mess she created and once it blew up in her face she was forced to retreat and avoid looking like a bigger asshole…which is where you come in. You don’t know how or why but somehow you got roped into things and now you’re being forced to help the brunette clean up her image.

Maybe forced is being dramatic but your team didn’t even let you attempt to talk them out of the idea and instead shoved you onto a private plane headed to Mexico City for a Fourth of July mini-vacation with the one and only Hailee Steinfeld.

Also known as the one person you’d never willingly go out with. Much less on a mini-vacation that only has one goal: get as many paparazzi as possible to take pictures of the two of you so speculation will run wild and distract Hailee’s fans from the New York stunt.

You have no doubt the plan will work which just pisses you off even more.

You’re not new to this life of hiding or the lies it comes with but there’s something about the way the brunette handles things that just rubs you the wrong way. She straddles the border between genuine and fake so often that you’re sure she doesn’t even know who she is most days.

Hence her constant disappearances from the public eye nowadays. Disappearances that just make her stunts with the quarterback even more confusing.

You’re not here to figure the actress out though, you just have to fake a few smiles, hold her hand, and pretend you actually like each other. The media and her fans will do the rest.

Whether the result of your stunt ends with people speculating you're in a relationship or just a public denunciation of her connection to said quarterback is ultimately up to her team so all you two really have to do is pretend.

Something that would be easy…if your distaste for each other wasn’t so obvious.

“Did your lovely team forget the part where we’re not actually a couple?” You question the second you arrive at your hotel room, only to find a single king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Why do you assume it was my team that messed up?” She fires back, eyebrow raised in defiance.

You roll your eyes as you finish wheeling your suitcase inside. You don’t even bother to argue about who gets the bed and instead put your things down on the couch set up in the corner of the room. After all, you’re still a gentleman. “Because this whole thing was their idea.”

“They actually know how to do their job, unlike some people.” Her verbal jab isn’t lost on you and it quickly silences the small voice in your head that was urging you to try and get along with her.

“And what’s my job? Pretending you’re the center of the universe?”

“It’d be a nice start.”

“Too bad I’m not the academy-award nominated actress here.” Out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be a compliment but you both know that’s not the way you meant those words.

Hailee doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at you as if that’ll make you disappear.

Unfortunately, it doesn't, which means you’re still stuck in this same situation with the same pair of eyes that wish they could send you six feet underground…or, at the very least, six rooms away from her.

That glare is more than enough to draw the conversation to a close for the moment. The awkward silence that sticks around instead is just as bad though and you’re actually glad when Hailee’s phone goes off.

You watch, with a slightly amused smile, as the actress argues with one of the many poor souls from her PR team.

She’s clearly not as amused as you are considering the string of curse words that reverberate around the small room. You pick up enough information to know there’s already a plan and a schedule for the pap shots so the two of you have to be on top of your game sooner rather than later.

There’s a split second during the phone call where your eyes meet hers and everything else seems to fade away for those few moments.

There’s no badly suppressed annoyance in her eyes, no vacant look that represents the hundreds of walls she’s put up to keep you locked out of her mind and heart. For the briefest of seconds, she seems…real. It’s as if the mask she so easily wears to hide who she is slips and leaves behind the uncertainty she seems to detest so much.

Ironically, that uncertainty would make her a lot more bearable in your opinion.

The moment ends as quickly as it started and in no time at all, you’re back to being passive-aggressive while pretending to like each other.

“So, what’s the plan here?” You hate how much you care about not further ruining her life by messing up the pap shots. “Last time I checked, you weren’t out of your glass closet yet.”

“Are you saying you check up on me often?” She replies as she gets into the private pool next to you.

For some reason, her team had decided the two of you should kick things off with some pool pictures before going out to dinner tomorrow night. It’s a pretty ridiculous idea but nothing screams summer romance like paparazzi pictures at the pool and/or the beach.

“Yeah, it’s like watching a trainwreck. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.”

“Funny.”

She sits across from you and you do all you can to stop your eyes from wandering across her face. It’s impossible to deny how attractive she is, no matter how long her list of contradicting personality traits is.

You assume she’s forgotten about your question until she speaks up a few moments later. “There’s no real plan. We don’t have to actually kiss for people to think there’s something going on.”

“What a relief.”

The brunette rolls her eyes at you but no snarky comeback escapes her lips. It might be too insignificant to call it progress but at least you’re having a conversation that doesn’t turn into an argument.

Nothing significant happens after that besides Hailee spotting the paparazzi and both of you pulling the most authentic smiles you can muster onto your faces. Turns out, the fake smiling is the easy part, finding something to talk about is the hard part.

You let her talk up and down about Hawkeye and Across the Spiderverse until you’re finally able to go back to hiding inside the hotel room.

It pains you to admit it but she’s not half bad when she’s talking about her projects. Being alone certainly helps ease some of her anxieties and you’re sure her people-pleasing tendencies have disappeared around you. (You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not...not that you care either way.)

You push away your slightly conflicting, and borderline confusing, feelings as you make your way back into your room.

And maybe your eyes wander down to her abs a few times and maybe you catch her looking your way once or twice but that doesn’t matter. Sharing one moment with her where she feels like an actual person instead of a walking brand deal isn’t going to change your mind about her.

You make it back into the room and a few peaceful minutes go by until Hailee’s phone goes off once again, her face twisting from annoyance to shock to genuine dread in the span of five seconds. You can’t explain why but something inside you urges you to step out onto the balcony and leave her alone.

So you do just that.

Contrary to the way you act when you’re around her, you do sort of care for her in ways you’d rather not think about. It’s just hard to show that side of yourself when she does everything in her power to get under your skin. It might not be on purpose but that doesn’t make it any less grating.

You rise to your feet and grab the towels you had left hanging on the back of a chair. You don’t say a word as you slide the balcony door open but you swear you hear her mumble out a thank you before you slip outside.

Maybe things between you two aren’t so hopeless after all.

It might be wishful thinking but things are surprisingly calm for the next few hours. It's not until you’re getting ready to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened today that she speaks to you again.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, y’know? The bed is big enough for both of us.”

You turn to look at her, doing a terrible job of hiding the surprised look on your face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, y/n.” She shrugs as if sharing a bed with her isn’t a big deal. “Just don’t snore or I’ll kick you to the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply sarcastically.

A tense silence fills the room after that and neither of you makes any attempts to break it. Hailee busies herself with double-checking that everything is locked while you climb into bed, turning onto your side and attempting to put as much space as possible between the two sides of the bed.

She turns the lights off, leaving you in the darkness with a rapidly beating heart. You’re not sure why you’re nervous but you have a feeling falling asleep is going to be almost impossible tonight.

You lay there for what feels like hours, doing your best not to think about how close your bodies are right now. You saw her in a bikini earlier today, why are you freaking out over sharing the same bed?

You’re in the middle of mentally arguing with yourself when you hear Hailee let out a series of deep breaths. Anxiety isn’t a stranger to you and you suddenly worry something might have triggered a panic attack.

“You okay?” You speak up despite yourself. “Did you finally realize you fucked over your queer fans with the QB stuff?”

You can’t help but poke the bear even when you’re supposed to be checking up on her.

She doesn’t respond and a few seconds later, you hear her sniffle, the guilt immediately hitting you like a runaway train. “Hailee? I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Republic dropped me.” Her voice is barely audible but there’s no denying the pain it carries.

The urge to turn around and look at her is far too strong for you to ignore so you take a deep breath before giving in. You turn onto your other side so you’re facing her, not wanting to ruin her moment of vulnerability by appearing uninterested.

Her eyes are trained on the ceiling above her but you can make out the glimmer of unshed tears in the warm pool of her eyes. She doesn’t give you a chance to speak up, she just continues as if you’re not looking at her with real empathy in your gaze for the first time since you met.

“I should’ve seen it coming, you know? With all the hesitation and the drawn-out meetings. Coast was supposed to be my chance to prove myself and it did nothing. I hoped rushing SunKissing would fix things but it just made everything worse.”

“And then New York happened,” you mumble.

“Yeah-” Her voice breaks and you hate the way your heart aches for her. “I should’ve just owned up to it but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit I was grasping at straws so when my team told me to bring you into this mess…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Saying no would have been a good start.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she turns her head to the side, allowing your eyes to meet in the darkness. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

The sincerity in her words strikes you “Oh, come on, I’m no saint. I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got here.”

“You're right. You're awful.”

“Shut up, Steinfeld.”

She laughs.

An actual laugh that makes the corners of her glossy eyes crinkle up in a way that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You’re sure you’ve never made her laugh like that in the time you’ve known each other.

And you hate the way you’re already obsessed with the sound.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she says suddenly before fully turning her body toward you. “It was a stupid idea anyway, it’s not going to change people’s minds.”

“Maybe you’re the one who has to change her mind.” You offer the only advice you can think of. “Pretending like everything’s okay isn’t doing you any favors, Lee.”

The nickname slips out of your mouth without a second thought. You don’t even realize you said it out loud until Hailee questions you about it. “Lee? Five hours ago you wanted me out of your life and now you’re giving me a nickname?”

“Five hours ago I wasn’t sure you even had feelings.”

Your comment would have surely earned you a glare earlier but now you get a smile instead. “Point taken.”

“I mean it, though. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and do what you want. You owe yourself that much.”

“The things I want will just make things worse,” she says, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips.

“Maybe it’s worth it.”

You have no idea what her words truly mean until you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.

Everything inside of you tells you to make a joke, or piss her off, or at the very least, turn around and pretend to go to sleep. Anything to stop both of you from making a huge mistake.

But then her hand reaches out to touch your waist and you find yourself leaning toward her without a second thought.

It’s stupid and reckless and the last thing you should add to this already messy situation and yet it’s the only thing you want to do. You don’t want to argue with her anymore, you just want her. Even if it’s only for the night.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, your lips barely inches away from hers.

“I don’t know…do you want me to stop?”

You meet her eyes and reach your decision. “No.”

It’s all the encouragement she needs to close the gap between you, her lips claiming yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. You tangle your hand in her hair to pull her closer as a thought suddenly dawns on you.

There’s no way to deny how attracted you are to her. No way to deny how drawn you are to her despite all the things that get under your skin about her.

No way to deny that you’re actually falling for Hailee Steinfeld.

Shit.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

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azsazz · 7 months

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More vamp azzy as we all desperately need.

This one is a request from an anon: “Okay so for vamp Az. I’m not sure if vampires eat anything other than blood but if not, then imagine him trying to cook anything for reader because she got sick or something. I don’t want to get into too many details since you only asked for ideas so totally no pressure! I fell hopelessly in love with vamp Az and am so excited for more!! ❤️‍🔥And spooky season is coming and it just fits perfectly 😌🧛🏼”

**Not edited!**

A clatter from the kitchen shocks you from your sleep. Your eyes are heavy and sore, nose stuffed and mouth dry. You cough a little as you swallow, trying to wet your throat and gather your bearings.

Your blanket sits heavy on your body, and you notice not only one, but three thick comforters piled up and tucked under your chin. You’re a cocoon of warmth, and despite the chill wracking your bones, sweat dampens your forehead.

The couch is as good as any bed, but the room is missing the body of the vampire you’ve become accustomed to seeing. Azriel doesn’t need sleep, not that you have noticed anyway, but he often never lets you leave his sight, even if he knows you’re in your rooms or his excellent hearing picks up on you prowling around his home during the daylight hours.

You’ve grown into his schedule, sleeping away the days and staying up during the nights. You hadn’t even realized you’d been doing it until as of late. It had been purely survival instinct at first, to stay up for as long as possible. You pulled open the thick, black, heavy curtains to let the sun stream through the windows, hoping it would keep Azriel away from you, but he’d only reached into the blazing sun to pull them shut again. It how his hands got like this, you realized, when they had started sizzling and one had caught fire from the sun. He hadn’t hissed, but the hazel of his eyes gleamed in a way that had scared you and made your stomach twist. It was paired with a hint of fang, the curve of his lips telling you all you needed to know about him.

You weren’t going anywhere.

The other night, you had attempted escape, to no avail.

Azriel had been away at one of his meetings, with whom or about what you didn’t know, but you’d managed to shimmy open one of the ancient windows. There was a storm raging, and it seemed like the perfect escape. The rain would cover your scent and would wash away your footprints in the mud.

You hadn’t anticipated being hunted through the woods.

Being out in the rain that long hadn’t been good for you, but the fucking you received when Azriel had found you had almost made it worth it. He’d taken you right there in the middle of the forest, and then again when he wrangled you home and lit a fire in the hearth so big it rivaled those of Hel. He’d been silent the entire time, even as he lied you down to dry and fucked you deep. You thought your shivering body was due to his cold hands and wicked tongue, not the oncoming cold.

The noise is followed by a low string of curses that you’re sure he means to keep soft. Your eyes slide shut again, exhausted and too achy to move.

It’s better to keep silent, not draw his attention to you no matter how badly you want a glass of water.

It doesn’t take long for him to enter the room. He holds a bowl in one hand and helps you sit up with the other. You can’t help but notice the bulge of his biceps from underneath his tight shirt as he does so, and you didn’t think that your mouth could possibly get any drier, but here you are.

You stare at the bowl wearily, then back up at him, heart stumbling at the nervous look on his face.

“You can cook?” You ask, watching as he paces to the hearth to stoke the fire. He avoids your eyes, not wanting to see the sympathy swimming in them.

“I used to be able to, once upon a time,” Azriel’s voice is soft, longing. He can no longer consume food that sustains you, you realize. You find yourself aching for him, a little.

“And now you can’t eat,” you trail off, glancing to your bowl again. It smells delicious, the scents of vegetables and spices filling the room with warmth. Your freezing fingers are beginning to thaw already.

Azriel shakes his head in response, gesturing to the bowl. You pick up the spoon, dipping it into the bowl. You see the carrots and shallots swimming in it, along with barley and herbs that make it taste like heaven.

You can’t help but to groan pleasurably, the flavors exploding on your tongue. “For someone who can’t eat, this is delicious.”

“I can eat, but there’s no use,” Azriel says, eyes intent on you as he watches you take another bite. He’s filled with pleasure at the sight of you enjoying something he’d made for you, and he can admit that he did have fun being in the kitchen again. “Everything tastes boring and it’s not the kind of thing that can sustain me.”

Right. Your stomach swirls, thinking about the blood he needs to consume in order to survive. You feel a little sick at the thought that this is what he’s taken you for, to use you for pleasure to ultimately drain you one day.

You shiver but shove the thought away. Azriel’s eyes grow warmer with each spoonful you take, and there’s something itching at you to be nice to him, despite everything that’s happened between the both of you. He had taken you in from the rain, most likely saving your life in the process, and now he’s feeding you.

You find a part of yourself wanting to return the favor.

“Eat with me,” you say, patting the spot you’d just sat up from. It’s piled with pillows but you can surely shove them aside to make room for Azriel.

“What?” He asks, brows furrowing deeply. He looks like he’s about to protest but you’re cutting him off before he can.

“Come on, come eat with me.”

Azriel stares at you like you’ve grown a second head and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

“I just told you that it doesn’t matter if I eat.”

“Then come eat.”

It’s clear you’re not giving up on this. Azriel sighs, pushing to his feet and striding towards the kitchen to get his own bowl.

But you’re a stubborn one. He doesn’t expect you to grab for him, and you’re as quick as an asp. He’s not expecting the feel of your hands on his exposed forearms, sleeves of his thick, black shirt rolled up to keep away from the food as he was cooking.

“You can share with me.”

“No,” he says, voice harsh and demanding. “You ned to eat.”

You quirk a brow. “Afraid of catching a little cold?”

Azriel can’t contain the rolling of his eyes and you want to laugh at how human it makes him look.

“I can’t catch a cold.”

“Of course you can’t,” you agree, shoving the pillows onto the floor and biting back a grin at Azriel’s grimace. “Now sit down and eat.”

#azsazz #acotar #azriel #azriel x reader #vampire!azriel #vampire bat boys #acomaf #azsazz drabbles

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henrioo · 27 days

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Hey! Could I please request some fluffy scenarios about Shanks X Male and Mihawk X Male Reader (separately if that's okay) who's love languages are physical touch and quality time, but is also struggling with anxiety? Sorry for going on anon, this is my first time ever requesting and I'm a little nervous lol

°•*⁀➷ TOO MUCH LOVE, TOO MANY THOUGHTS : SHANKS AND MIHAWK

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : You love your partners, you really do, but sometimes those voices inside you gain control over your body, making you withdraw into your own fears and feelings. Good for you that your partners won't give up on having you by their side.

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : MALE! READER, M! READER, NOT POLY! The reader can be Trans or Cis, talking about homophobia but nothing happens, a lot of talk about insecurities in a romantic relationship, talk about anxiety and fear

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2,4k at all, 1k for Shanks and 1,4 for Mihawk

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : Hey thanks for this request! It had been some months and I don't have any idea if you are still there but anyway thanks for that, that request is part of the first ask I received when I opened for male reader so this means a lot to me. The ask doesn't talk too much about the insecurities of the reader because I wanted that you guys could imagine your own, here talk more about how they would handle and help you. Enjoy!

★彡 Shanks

It may not seem like it, but the redhead is a master at reading people, all it takes is a few nervous glances and body language and he knows exactly what the problem is.

However, while he knows what the problem is, he is not that good at knowing the best solution for it. Part of him just wants to grab you and say "stop with that and let's just kiss." Luckily he knows that not everyone works like him, so he is able to understand that you may have different limits and such a direct approach can make the situation worse and even push you away from him.

So, firstly, he tries to understand exactly why you are suffering from so much anxiety when it comes to spending time with him and having more physical touch. Are you ashamed or afraid of doing PDA because of prejudiced looks since you are both men? Are you afraid that he will reject you if you show this need for time and affection? Are you publicly ashamed of others? Regardless of what's going through your head, Shanks wants to understand so he can give you truer love.

When he has a little idea or some theories, which he will achieve after observing you a lot in various situations and talking to all the other men on the ship, he will try to talk to you. Of course he will never force you into anything, he just wants to try to understand and maybe ease this weight that you are carrying alone. Even if you just want to scream or ramble without knowing exactly how to express your feelings and anxiety, he wants to be there for you, to show that he is willing to listen to you, understand you, especially validate and support you. He wants you to see that he is there for you in every situation.

Whether you decide to speak or not, the outcome changes very little. The difference being that having talked to you, Shanks will be able to understand you more easily, thus being able to make fewer mistakes in his attempts to help you and make you more comfortable with everything. If you don't decide to talk, he will be forced to make several trials and errors on how to make the environment more favorable for you to feel comfortable and overcome your anxiety, so you can give in to your desires for physical touch and spend more time with him. quietly.

Since you may have anxiety about initiating contact, Shanks will do all the hard work for you. Which, let's be honest, isn't very difficult, the redhead adores you like a loyal servant to a god, he can't keep his hands off you. It may seem funny to others to see a pirate as strong as a stray puppy following you, especially when they discover that Shanks' lover is a man, but what can he do... He is a man completely in love with you .

It's not uncommon for him to go after you, but if he notices your difficulty in initiating contact, he'll go even more after his presence. Every time he is free on the ship he will come after you, suggesting that you play a game, have a snack, talk, dance, sleep, he never runs out of ideas knowing that coming up first with a goal can make you calmer since you will just need to go with the flow and not think about everything on your own.

With physical touch, the difference is that he will pay extra attention to your comfort, it is normal that every time you are on land he is glued to your side. Holding hands or a hand around his waist practically hugging you, he just doesn't want to let go of you. In bars or any other establishment he would like to sit next to you, he would never put you on his lap, wishing that this choice came from you first. Shanks doesn't want you to feel humiliated or insulted by him wanting you on his lap, especially if you're nervous about showing affection publicly because you're both men.

But that doesn't stop him from having some physical contact, when his hand isn't occupied he'll put it on your thigh or your hand on the table, if he's drinking he'll leave his foot close to yours or even leave his foot close to yours. His leg pressed against yours. Even if it's small touches, he wants to show you that he wants to touch you just as much as you want to touch him. On the ship things are easier, he can simply hide the two of you in your shared room, thus avoiding the teasing of your crewmates and also having a little more privacy.

In the end he will just try to demonstrate that he wants your touch and attention as much as you do. He knows that actions can be stronger than words and he firmly believes that, so he will always be by your side to show you that he would never turn down spending time with you or having a make-out session. You are his boyfriend, after all! The man he loves and would do anything to see smile, he could never get tired of you.

Shanks' greatest happiness will be seeing you slowly loosen up and work on your anxiety better. When you start spending time together or touching, he will be celebrating inside. In the end, he just wants your attention and for you to show how much you love him, so he will never refuse if you want to spend time together. And even if it takes a while, even if you don't touch him for months, even if you need to talk a lot until you feel more confident, he doesn't mind at all. You are the one he loves and he would do anything for you, no effort is too much, you are worth everything he has to face and suffer, and he will accept it with a smile on his face.

If you think Shanks is easy to notice his difficulties then it only takes Mihawk an instant to notice something wrong. The difference is that the redhead will consider that some of the reasons for your anxiety could be external stimuli such as other people, reputation, shame or fear... Mihawk is a little more insecure at this point.

★彡Mihawk

His early theories for your anxiety and difficulty having quality time and physical touch with him is that the culprit is, well... Him. Are you no longer in love with him? Don't you feel comfortable? Not attracted? Is he not that interesting of a person to spend time with or is he not good at physical touch? It doesn't matter, he would initially think that it must be something he did that caused his estrangement.

He would have a few moments alone to consider everything, perhaps you no longer enjoy being in that castle without anyone's company but his. When he manages to calm his mind and open himself to any possibility, whether good or bad, he finally decides to talk to you. Luckily, Mihawk is extremely verbally expressive and is very good at communicating, so even if you were just rambling and getting lost in your own words, he will be able to understand you or even help you with how to express yourself better.

The conversation may seem a little suffocating due to Mihawk's firm gaze, but you've been his lover for long enough that he only pays attention to you like that. Furthermore, you can see a worried touch and even a loving look if you pay close attention to the way he looks at you.

Other than that, he is extremely patient with you, he will listen to you for as long as necessary and will only speak if you allow it and feel comfortable discussing it at that moment. Then he will try to analyze the entire situation to better understand your fears, insecurity, anything that is making you anxious and pushing you away from him. He will never judge any of your motives or tell you they are silly, no matter if you were just shy, if you were nervous about appearing clingy, if you were too nervous about his beauty? It doesn't make any difference why, if it bothers you in some way, then it's totally important and valid for him.

And just as he doesn't care about the reasons, he also doesn't care about the solutions to help you with your problems. He loves you with all the depth and loyalty he could have, so he is also willing to give his blood and sweat for the good of your relationship. For Mihawk it's more than fair for both lovers to make an effort, especially when one of them is in trouble, so not for a second does he think of you or this whole situation as a burden. He loves you and you love him, you are partners, you are the man he chose to spend the rest of his life with, if he doesn't make the slightest effort in trying to keep the relationship on good terms then he doesn't deserve you. That's why he will always do his best.

After that he will try to make everything easier for you, he might give you a few peaceful days without looking for contact, wanting you to breathe before facing your problems. After that he will begin his plan to slowly make you approach him again and feel comfortable coming to him whenever you want... And well, maybe he will be much happier when he can finally touch you again and spend time with you. , it may not seem like it, but Mihawk also really wants your company and the idea of being without it makes him extremely moody.

He will initially try to recapture the moments together, quality time is easier for Mihawk and he thinks that starting with that is the best way for the two of you to get closer again, after all you wouldn't be forced into any touching if you weren't already completely safe. Then he will reminisce about some of the activities you used to enjoy doing together, be it reading in each other's company during a calm evening, the sound of the fireplace and the birds outside providing a more peaceful environment for you to relax your mind and let go of the anxiety. go away. He will also invite you to garden together. If you don't like getting dirty he will just talk to you and ask for your help. That doesn't make you put your hands in the dirt. However, if you like it, he will be very happy to teach you or listen to his teachings. He will work in the garden while you talk about where you could use those vegetables. If you want, he can also help you make a flower garden or plant anything else you like.

He will also love your company in the kitchen, he may use the excuse of testing new recipes to include you more, maybe he will even try to make something that you like to eat from another island. If you cook, like it or want to learn, he doesn't mind your help either, as long as you are happy and coming out of your shell, forgetting your anxiety and allowing yourself to be comfortable and doing what you love again, he is satisfied. Also, he may start trying to initiate physical touches, if you are a swordsman he will love some sparring sessions with you, although he won't go easy on you. After all, you are a man and a worthy opponent, you can notice that his movements are much more sensual and loving, it is as if he is trying to seduce you, win you over again and using all his body language in favor of this.

If you don't fight or don't want to learn, although Mihawk would love to teach you, he can still think of other activities with physical touch. His favorite is dancing. You will find him the most patient and dedicated partner possible, if you understand dancing he will even let you guide, moving and handling his body as you wish. Furthermore, he could even go into activities outside of his standard if that could help him relax and be calmer with touch. Trying on clothes? You have Dracule's entire wardrobe at your disposal, luckily you are both men so this part is easier. Messing with hair? Of course, go ahead and touch his black hair, if you have longer hair he will enjoy learning how to style it or take care of it.

Other than that, once he notices you getting more comfortable, he'll go back to the subtle physical touches. Mihawk is not the type of lover who devours you in public, but you will always find his hand on your back, either guiding you or just making it clear that he is there. He will also offer his hand to help you get up or down from places, a hand on your shoulder or arm if you are in a situation where he wants to make it obvious that he has you and that he won't let anything bad happen.

He doesn't like more sensual touches in public, so in the privacy of four walls you will have more of that, light touches on your neck or your thigh, but they still won't be perverted touches, just a more romantic and deep touch, something he wants to keep for your eyes only.

Mihawk is a lover who is slower to deal with his anxiety, he in no way wants you to feel pressured, so he will wait with open arms when you are ready to regain intimacy. He'd also hate for you to feel like you're obligated to have this kind of intimacy with him, so he also doesn't mind if you don't like the closeness. In the end the truth is just unique, in Mihawk's eyes you are the perfect man, if you don't like so much intimacy and touching he is satisfied with that, if you like touching and want to be with him 24/7 he will too be more than satisfied. He needs you, everything you give him will be a gift. Therefore, even though he seems like a stoic and even cold man, Mihawk would never deny or be ashamed of your touch, you are the only one who can do whatever you want and he will never be bothered by it.

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lyomeii · 1 year

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A REGRESSOR PRIVILEGE

-> warning: yandere theme, death, gender neutral reader, spoiler from the ending!, angst(?)

-> request by anon! Hello! First off, YOUR BLOG IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT!!!! ❤️❤️ Secondly, if it's not to much trouble, can I request Sung Jin Woo with a reader that regresses? Like, they're not very strong(bc that's the price of their ability) but everytime he or they die, they regress back to the D-dungeon incident. They also can't talked much, because of censorship from the system. But every regression they've loved him even when he doesn't! Thank you and have a lovely day!!!

-> a/n: I loved writing this one!!! with the idea of a regressor reader with Jinwoo not only make this a tragic romance with fluff and sweet moment but also angst :) my fault that I am no longer active as I used to, school is killing me :/ but I am doing better now

-> sometimes you don’t recall the last time you felt real pain. of course, some cuts and bruises happen in your days for the most simplest reasons, but you don’t remember any more attempts to clean the little injuries neither patching the bruises along your skin, that don’t really matter knowing that your life will happen again in a few seconds.

-> jinwoo failed to save the world this time, like many times, leaving the place what you called home in ruins and chaos. Poor boy, doesn’t he know that still fighting all the monarchs wouldn’t changing nothing? He has no knowledge of what you have experienced for the last few years, none else know and you can’t never tell anyone about it.

-> when the last attack from one of the monarchs hit Jinwoo’s chest, making him finally defeated after fighting for so long, you just closed your eyes for a few moments while sitting to a closer bench that gave you a good place to witness the fight. Can you say that he got closer this time? Nah, that would be weird, you did gene try to met him this time, leaving him to get closer to that girl… Maybe next time, you should try to date him again.

-> after minutes, finally opening your eyes to notice that you are once again inside your office, ready to leave after writing an article about the weather ( writing it so many times made you wonder if you should try a new job this live ). Is this the seventeenth time you are living this? Probably, you stop counting after a while. What a terrible power you got.

-> whatever you or Jinwoo died or he fails to save the world, the time is reset and brings you back to the day he change his life completely and your too. When he wakes up from and realize that he has to change his life to become the greatest hunter of all time, you need to find a way to secure to not die this time neither him…. You can’t handle dying again and again, over and over. Not to mention the many times you tried to look to a way to lose the power and in the end, you kept dying or being using for tests.

-> stood up from your seat, you grabbed your belongings and left the building with the intention of going home and spend the rest of your day there, and probably ask to renounce from job and to search for another one, it’s getting boring writing the many articles from memories, let’s try something new this time.

-> arriving home, you look to your neighbor’s door, there is where Jinwoo and his sister lives in all your seventeenth lifes, that how you know him and about his works as a Hunter. Every morning, you and him would meet up either on the front door or so did the elevator, where a small conversation happen and another one, that kept occurring til the day he finally asked you out after the incident, leading you two becoming a couple.

-> it was nice, you admitted it, however after witnessing him dying over again changed your mind really fast. The relationship is probably one the main reasons why he didn’t train as hard to deafest the monarchs, making him failing all those times and now, you are looking forward to your friendship with Jinwoo don’t change at all… it will be better if you just ignore him for now.

-> quit your office job to join a coffee shop, one that is getting popular recently, meaning that you have to leave home earlier to prepare the many desserts and drinks, also that make you unable to meet with Jinwoo, a win. Might be overworking, but the sensation of the freshly candies out the oven and the smell of coffee make it all worth, not to mention the lovely coworkers and clients you got closer, this time you are feeling that Jinwoo will defeat the monarchs, you are sure of that.

-> with the work going smoothly as you expected in the last days, you decided to create a new drink to attract more clients and getting the coffee shop more fame in the social medias, a simple plan that did work after all. The lines got bigger and your coworkers were impressed of your idea, all of them congratulated you for helping them since the day you began working here and in return asked if you would like to go home earlier as a little reward, but you denied, saying that you love working here and there is no problem to stay behind to clean part by yourself. They were little worried of all working, but with your big smile, they let you work.

-> by yourself, you start cleaning the place with the mob and packing up the food that didn’t sold to give to the shelter nearby, it’s getting darker meaning the chances of someone entering the shop are low, but never zero and when the classic bell rang, you are meet with familiar faces that you didn’t want to, Jinwoo and Jinah entering the shop.

-> they look so happy and their smile only grown bigger the instant both of them notice you. Jinah didn’t hesitate to run and almost dropping into the ground with a hug and kisses spread around your face. You are happy to see her and to feel her touch once again, but her brother standing behind the gentle girl is what scare you the most.

-> jinah ordered for some dessert and went to eat it somewhat in the store, leaving you to talk with Jinwoo alone after spending so much time far away from him, trying to not seeing his face anymore, only in the news. But guess destiny had others plans that make you two met once again in this life.

-> you were supposed to take him out after Jinah finished her desserts and say that neither of them needed to pay it, but the girl was longer gone (how you never noticed it?), leaving you without options, you have to talk with Jinwoo after months of not seeing him.

-> Jinwoo began speaking quite fast, starting with the the incident that occurred in that dungeon and how he managed to get stronger, taller and gain his fame as a S-Hunter. Might look he is putting himself on a pedestal with telling everything that is related to him, yet he is trying his best to impress you, but isn’t working.

-> your eyes didn’t change neither your neutral expression that keep bothering him since he first step inside the cafe and his heart almost broken when you asked him to leave if he don’t order anything, adding that you need to close the shop before it’s get to dangerous to return home. That truly hurt his heart.

-> he panicked hearing your words, how the two of you became so distant from another? Why you keep ignoring him even with him trying to reconnect with you with many attempts of showing his true feelings towards the person he cares, loves and desire the most! He wants to experience all those dates that he kept dreaming with you! He needs to make you understand his feelings!

-> before you could leave, Jinwoo grabbed you by the waist and made you entered his arms (too strong to leave his embrace), not losing any second or letting you think, he placed a kiss on your forehead while speaking all those sweet words he always wanted to say, telling you of those dreams he kept having, meaning that you are destined to be with him, he can’t let you go away like before.

-> this was supposed to be a good moment between you and him. You are supposed to be happy and accept his feelings and began dating him, yet those dreams he said to have are actually dates that you had with him in past lifes, how he can remember that? That doesn’t really matter, you need to leave him to never see his face anymore, you have to tell him that… but why you can’t speak a word?

-> looking around, you notice the many shadows staring at you, making you feel scared and anxiously, are they going to hurt you? You tried voicing your thoughts to Jinwoo, explaining to him that he needs to leave alone forever, but nothing happen again and slowly your mind made you closer your eyes and succumb into his arms.

-> no worries, when you open your eyes, you will wake up somewhere safe and peaceful at his side, Jinwoo will take care of everything in your name, he give you anything you desire as long you stay at his side.

@lyomeii stuff || don’t repost

#yandere headcanon #yandere imagine #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere male #yandere manhwa #manhwa x readed #solo leveling imagine #solo leveling x reader #yandere solo leveling #solo leveling headcanon #yandere sung jin woo #sung jin woo imagine #sung jin woo x reader #sung jin woo

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deanstead · 1 year

Text

she's alright, i guess

Pairing: Stellaride x SeverideDaughter!Reader

Requested: yes, by anon

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been very welcoming towards having Stella in their lives, but when she’s faced with a situation, Stella proves to Y/N that she’s in her corner.

Word Count: 2.2K+

Tags/Warnings: Dad!Kelly, mentions of attempted assault, single parent, victim shaming

A/N: This is a different kind of request/fic from what I've written for OC so far but I was pretty intrigued by it so I decided to give it a go. Not opening requests for daughter fics at the moment still because I’m not sure how this turned out yet so let me know what you guys think!

STELLARIDE MASTERLIST

You looked up from where you’d been playing with the food on your plate, only to catch Stella smile at your father who was sitting next to you.

Resisting the urge to make a face, you turned to look at him. “Can I be excused?”

Kelly gave a small sigh and turned to look at you, looking like he wanted to say something and then deciding against it, merely nodding. “Yeah, go on.”

You gave his girlfriend a last withering look before you took your plate back into the kitchen.

Kelly suppressed an audible sigh before he looked back at Stella. “Sorry.”

Stella smiled and shook her head. “She just needs some time.”

You rolled your eyes and headed back to your room, plopping yourself down on your bed and staring up at your ceiling.

It wasn’t really that you didn’t like Stella. Hell, you’d been okay with her before you found out she was dating your father.

As far as daughters went, you were sure that you were at least three times more protective over your father than your classmates were about their own parents.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that you only ever had Kelly growing up. You’d overheard countless discussions about people telling him that it was hard being a single parent especially with his job but whatever anyone said, and however Kelly had felt from the first time he’d found out he’d had a daughter and come to get you, Kelly had stuck it out with you.

Over the years, especially once you were older, you’d seen many girlfriends come and go - some didn’t want commitment, some ran the moment they found out about you, some just… didn’t make it. It didn’t matter that Kelly had seemed fine with everything. You were not, so all that had done was make you even more protective over him.

So when you’d found out about Stella, you’d felt your hackles raise.

Logically, you knew Stella had done nothing to deserve this but your 15 year old brain couldn’t seem to override the emotion with logic.

You lay there for a while more until there was a knock on your door and Kelly poked his head in.

“Hey kiddo. Can we talk?”

You sat up but didn’t give him an answer because you knew very well what he wanted to talk about and you weren’t sure you wanted to hear it.

Kelly came in anyway, pulling out the chair at your desk and sitting across from you.

“Will you give Stella a break?”

You looked up with a look of protest and Kelly held up a hand.

“I know.” Kelly said in a low voice, giving you a small smile to show you he wasn’t mad. “Just lighten up a little and give her a chance. That’s all I’m asking.”

You didn’t say anything but Kelly let out a chuckle as you pursed your lips. “Go easy.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head before patting your hair affectionately and leaving the room.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you, glancing behind you.

You hadn’t meant to let it get so late but you’d gotten a little too immersed in your notes and lost track of time. Other than the wind blowing against your back and making you shiver, you hadn’t realized how quiet the road from your friend’s house was.

You kind of regretted not calling Kelly to come and get you, but you also didn’t relish the idea of waiting here so you’d forged on, telling yourself you’d walked this street thousands of times.

But now, you were pretty sure someone was following you, hearing the echoing footsteps behind you.

Damn it.

Your hands that were jammed into your pockets closed around your phone but you were also worried things would escalate so you picked up your pace instead.

You heard the footsteps behind you match the increase in your speed and just as you thought you should break into a run, you were yanked backwards and unable to maintain your balance, you tumbled onto the concrete pavement, feeling the concrete scrape against your skin.

Your head snapped upwards, feeling your heart fall straight into your gut when you looked back into the face of the man that now towered over you.

It was a stranger, not a face you remembered seeing, but his lips ticked upwards in a smile that flipped your stomach over and your gut feeling as well as every nerve in your body was screaming at you to get up and run.

Flight.

You scrambled to your feet, slowly moving backwards as he now stepped towards you. His movements had slowed, like a predator that had just cornered his prey.

He took another step towards you and with well chosen timing, you brought your knee up swiftly, just like how Kelly had taught you.

Winded, the man bent over but not before letting out a growl.

You didn’t stick around long enough to find out what he had to say, your legs already moving before your brain realized you were running.

The wind blowing against you was painful but you didn’t dare stop because you weren’t sure if he was on your heels.

You turned the corner, sparing a glance back and collided straight into someone.

“Sorry.” You panted, glancing up.

“Y/N?” Stella looked surprised to see you before her expression switched to one of concern. “What’s wrong?”

Stella glanced up at the empty street behind you and then looked back at you. “You okay?”

You really didn’t have the energy for anything else. You just really needed an adult. You glanced up at her without talking and Stella reached for your hand.

When you didn’t pull away, Stella squeezed. “Do you want me to take you home?”

You shook your head quickly. “No. Wait. I just… I don’t want Dad to see me like this.”

Stella studied you for just a second more before she nodded. “My apartment’s just around the corner. Why don’t you come and have something at my place and we can talk? If you want to.”

You hesitated for just a second but you were still kind of spooked so you nodded, letting her lead you back down from where she came from, not even realizing your hand was still in hers.

Stella wasn’t exaggerating when she said her apartment was around the corner.

Within five minutes, you were seated on Stella’s couch, a cup of hot tea in your hands while you found yourself telling her what happened.

It was weird - you’d expected Stella to maybe pat your shoulders a little to reassure you that things would be fine before trying to convince you to call Kelly so he could come and get you. She wouldn't be the first girlfriend to hand you back over to your father as soon as she could.

But the emotions on Stella’s face as you told her were new to you - looks of concern, before outrage and then… if you didn’t know any better, you’d think she was upset.

You fell quiet after a while and Stella scooted a little closer to you.

“Alright, Y/N, listen.” Stella said and you looked up at her. “We have to report this.”

You looked back down again, your index fingers twirling together even though you were still holding the mug.

“I’ll come with you.” Stella paused. “If you’ll let me.”

You looked up again and nodded quietly. "You… You’d do that?”

You registered a look of surprise on Stella’s face before she next spoke. “Of course, Y/N.”

“Can we not call my dad yet?”

There was a small silence and you held back a sigh. You knew what would happen if your father found out about this. Other than the fact that you hated making him worry and that you knew things might get blown up out of proportion with practically everyone getting involved, it was kind of awkward talking to him about some stuff.

Stella glanced at you. “How about we take things one step at a time?”

You bit your lip and Stella nodded encouragingly at you. “Let’s go to the district and then when you’re ready, we can call Kelly alright?”

You nodded quietly, taking another sip of tea before Stella smiled. “Ready?”

You got up and Stella grabbed an extra coat off her coat hanger, draping it around your shoulders.

Stella had been told to wait outside while you gave your statement to the uniformed police officer sitting across from you but you were regretting this with each question the officer asked you.

“What were you doing out so late?”

“Is this what you normally wear to school?

You were done with the insinuations in his voice and tone. You were 15, not an idiot. You knew exactly where this was going and you’d been around your father’s friends long enough to pick some stuff up.

You stood all of a sudden, the nails digging into your palms in an effort not to let the angry tears out. “I’m not answering any more questions.”

“What do you…”

You didn’t let him finish his sentence, opening the door and stalking out.

As promised, Stella was right outside, glancing up as you walked out, reading the expression on your face instantly.

“You okay?”

You pulled Stella’s jacket tighter around yourself. “I just want to go home.”

Stella frowned, glancing up at the officer that was now outside the room as well. “You still have to answer a few questions. You can’t just…”

You didn’t move and Stella looked back down at you. “Y/N?”

“He hasn’t asked me a single question about what happened.” You said in a low voice, focusing only on Stella now. “No questions about how the man looked, what street this took place on, how he sounded.”

Stella frowned. Those were enough for her to put together a few pieces of the puzzle.

“Those are necessary questions. We need to know if…”

“Kidd. Y/N.”

You glanced up at a familiar face and Stella patted your back. “Told you I got you.” She whispered in a low voice so only you could hear.

Stella nodded with a smile at Hailey.

Telling the officer she’d take over, Hailey led you back into the room and smiled encouragingly at you.

“Stella called me. Will you tell me what happened?”

It was easier than you’d expected to talk to Hailey but even as you told her what happen, you found yourself internally steeling yourself for a lecture of some sort and you suddenly just really wished Kelly was here.

But Hailey offered no lecture or talking-to. Instead, she treated you like an adult, taking down the information you offered, her questions only revolving around important information she obviously needed, before she closed the book.

“Thank you, Y/N. Here.” Hailey handed you a small bottle and a small device. “Pepper spray and a small panic button.”

You looked up a little surprised and Hailey smiled. “If nothing, maybe it’ll help you feel safer.”

You nodded, keeping the things she handed you and Hailey came around and squeezed your shoulder before taking you out of the room again where Stella was waiting.

“Dad must be worried, I…”

Stella shook her head with a smile. “I told him you’re with me so he wouldn’t. I can call him if you’re ready.”

You felt involuntary tears well up in your eyes before you nodded. "Can you? I... I think I really need him."

Kelly was here in record time, running up the steps of the district as if he’d been waiting nearby in the first place but you didn’t care. The rush of relief and safety when you saw him made you wonder why you hadn’t gone to him immediately anyway.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t say anything, merely shooting off your seat to dive into your father’s arms like you were a child once again.

“You okay? Let me see.” Kelly pulled away just a little to look at you but other than remnants of the startled look in your eyes and new tears ready to spill over, you weren’t really hurt.

Kelly gently pulled you back into his arms and exhaled. “Thank god.”

He was never one for long verbal communications of how much he loved you but you didn’t really need him to tell you. This was even more apparent now as you were huddled in your father’s arms in the middle of a police district.

“You must be starving.” Kelly said after a while, looking down at you to wipe a stray tear off your face. “Why don’t we go get something to eat, hmm?”

You gave a small crooked smile and Kelly looked up, meeting Stella’s eyes.

“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Kelly said with a small apologetic smile at Stella. “Thank you.”

Stella nodded, but you interrupted them. “You’re not coming to eat with us?”

Kelly raised his eyebrows.

“Thought I’d give you two some private time.” Stella said, although she seemed to be weighing the look in your eyes now.

You shrugged. “You can come eat with us, too.”

Kelly glanced between his girlfriend and daughter. “Did something happen?”

You shrugged, lowering your voice. “She’s alright I guess.”

Kelly chuckled, swinging an arm around your shoulders as he led you out of the district. Stella fell into step on your other side and you smiled up at her. “Thank you.” You whispered, fully aware your father could hear you.

Stella smiled. “Thank you, too.”

Kelly just smiled at both his girls as the three of you walked down the empty streets. Together.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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#resa.fics #resanoona request #stellaride #stella kidd #kelly severide #severide!daughter #kelly severide x severide!daughter #stella kidd x severide!daughter #kelly severide x reader #stella kidd x reader #severide!daughter imagine #severide!daughter fanfic #severide!daughter one shot #stellaride imagine #stellaride one shot #stellaride fanfic #kelly severide x stella kidd #stella kidd x kelly severide #chicago fire

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