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writingsfromhome · 2 months

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Dos and Don’ts of H Styles

A/N: this story was literally born out of the wifi incident happening to me. It was a weird experience lol but of course it inspired me to write a story around it. Basically you used to work for Harry as a PA and your life was hell. You bump into him in the present but before it unfolds we need to know what happened in the past.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

——————————————

I watch as Winnie types into her phone the number of the guy who’d just hit on her.

“And that’s with a y?” She looks up at him with doe eyes.

“Yea,” he falls for it. He was cute, and she worked a lot I didn’t blame her for taking who she could get. His accent also helped. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Well,” her eyes slide to me. “Hanging with my girlfriend here.”

He nods at me and I smile, holding up the almost empty glass. “We were just about done for the night though.”

“We were?” Winnie checks in with me.

“Mhm,” I give her an encouraging nod.

Both Winnie and I were employed by musician-turned-actor Oretta Smith. Winnie was her nanny—or childcare companion as she called it, and I worked as Oretta’s executive assistant. It was full-time and demanding as hell but ever since Oretta had her first child a couple months back I’d gotten a lot more breathing room as she minimized her public life and stayed close to home.

This long weekend Oretta was staying with her in-laws and asked us to take it off. I’d already requested the weekend off knowing we were in London but being off at the same time as Winnie was impossible so we’d gone out to celebrate and let loose—9pm and only 2 drinks in, both of us had already started talking about the comfort of our beds. Until flirty dude came up to Winnie.

“What do you say?” Winnie’s new date asks her.

“Aw shucks alright,” Winnie flashes her beautiful smile and hops off the stool. I don’t even see her drop the bills onto the table as she hugs me goodbye and leaves until it’s too late. She’d covered for both of us. Well I’d get her back next time.

I finish the rest of my drink, eyes flicking to the reruns of tonight’s soccer game. This wasn’t the fanciest bar—it was quite homely compared to the ones Winnie and I often found ourselves at. But it was one I used to go to when I worked in London just over a year ago. Being back in the city, despite all the awful memories, pulled me towards the nostalgic comfort of it.

I remember the many dates with my now-ex, the random nights I’d actually get off, and drown myself in drink to forget about my awful employer. Or the birthday and milestone celebrations—especially the ones I started to miss near the end.

I consider walking the few streets over to my old flat. Coincidentally the job I’d gotten wasn’t far from home. The upside was that it made dealing with “emergency” texts from my employer a lot quicker but the downside was it grouped all the traumas I experienced in this beautiful city to a few blocks. I didn’t miss it.

I cut my memory lane rabbit-hole short and decide it was time to order an Uber and get out of here; I had an early train to catch tomorrow.

The bars on my phone flicker up and down as I open the app and continue to refresh it over and over. But my signal remains unstable.

“Stupid phone,” I mutter. I had to update my provider while I was here asap.

“‘Scuse me?” I wave down someone serving drinks. “Have you got wifi here?”

“Yep we do!” She smiles. “Name’s The Violinist and the password’s capital p….”

Her voice grows far away as my blood runs cold and I stare at the list of available wifi networks. I feel myself nod a thank you when she stops talking and she leaves taking the password with her while I’m stuck staring.

My networks:

🔗H’s iPhone

I want to duck down and run away, not spend another second around anything to do with that era of my life. But I also want to hunt him down and show him how much better I was doing after him, despite.

The second instinct wins. Kind of.

I don’t hide away. I scan the dimly lit room and try to spot the familiar head of hair but it’s on the third try that I spot him. And it’s probably because his hair is barely an inch long.

He must’ve cut it recently, I’m surprised. Him without his hair was like Harry Potter without his scar.

The feelings are instantaneous though. The loathing and the need to cry. My heart continues to race as I burn a hole into the side of his head.

He was the devil incarnate and I had thought about him for a second too long just now. And now here he was. What the fuck was a guy like him doing here?

I remember the awful times; the casually cruelty and the late nights he would make me work. His constant criticism. The way my life fell apart because of him. The way I could wring his neck with very little incentive at any given moment.

He had turned my whole life upside down. He ruined me.

Harry Styles wasn’t the sweetheart everyone painted him out to be.

And yet, a flash of a feeling, a fleeting memory I try to keep locked away pushes to the front of my mind.

“Fuck no,” I tell myself. There was no room for fondness when it came to the devil.

About 2 years ago:

I straighten out the blazer, wondering if I should be chic and roll the sleeves up a bit or just keep them down. My reflection shows a nervous mousy girl that’s trying too hard. I throw my hair into a ponytail instead and feel a more like myself. Just as the elevator doors ding open.

I’m in the penthouse suite I would be working out of for the next however long; it was my first day on the job and I was still sorting out my nervous to excited ratio.

After looking for months, I’d landed a PA gig for up-and-coming rockstar Harry Styles. It was a dream come true and everyone was ecstatic for me, most of all my boyfriend who’d helped me land the role.

My boyfriend, Grayson, was a personal trainer to a lot of big names and he’d been keeping his ear to the ground for me. We met a few years ago at the gym of course, I’d still been a student and he worked part-time at the student gym. Back then he was still working to get a better client list.

We’d clicked pretty quickly and Grayson, who was anything but shy, asked me out. Soon after he was telling me he had feelings for me and I’d felt them echo back the same. He was my biggest supporter and when I told him I wanted to take this career path seriously he’d been the first to show me what steps to take to get there.

My true dream was to become a publicist and work with celebrities, but fresh out of post-grad everyone told me I’d need to dive head first and get my hands dirty. And I’d have to do that by finding a PA role for a publicist or an industry person.

“Y/n?” My name interrupts my thoughts. It comes from a disembodied head peeking out from a doorway. “You are y/n right?”

“Yes!” I hurry over. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yes. I’m Mr. Styles’ exec assistant, I’m only here for the next,” he looks down at his watch. “Half hour perhaps? So let’s get you sorted before I head out.”

“Oh okay. Sure,” my ears ring, I was going to be alone on my first day. I didn’t even know he had an executive assistant. What was the difference between him and me? What if I screw up and this guy was part of the fallout plan? Shit. “Is Mr. Styles in?”

“Not at the moment, he’ll be in before noon. He has a few appointments this morning. Typically you’d be going with him but he left before you arrived so…next time. Make sure you get any paperwork he received from the appointments and file them in here-“ he points to a room with a filing cabinet. Like an actual cabinet. This was a tight ship. “You sound American. Are you American?”

“Yep,” I debate whether to tell him I stayed after doing my degree here but decide to keep the yapping to a minimum.

I continue following the EA—who I should get the name of, as he points out rooms and overlaps it with info about Mr. Styles’ schedule and routines. A lot of info. My brain felt like it was barely holding on.

I think about the man I was now working for, the one who came into the interview for a brief 10 minutes. Surely that laid-back guy wasn’t the anal mystery man I was getting all these instructions for.

The interview itself had gone pretty smoothly apart from the fact that I nervous-laughed a few times too many. I had gone silent when The Harry Styles had walked into the office. He’d sat beside me at the round table, slouching slightly and flashing me a reassuring smile—I had felt my shoulders dip down immediately.

“So it’s y/n right? I’m pronouncing that correctly?” He’d said in his perfectly charming accent.

“Yes, it’s so nice to meet you officially.” I had to tamp down every urge to gush over him. I was a professional. I was zen.

“So y/n,” he says my name so casually and yet I feel myself lean closer to hear him say it again. “I’ve seen a couple of you come in here for the PA role. What makes you different then?”

Think think, just be calm and think!

“Well I’m a very passionate person so I put my all into everything I do. That would include this job, and in turn you’d benefit by getting peace of mind knowing I’m tackling whatever behind the scenes items that need to get done to get you where you need to go.”

“Well said,” he says with a smile that says he knew he was very good looking. “Now trust is a big factor in this relationship.”

As he talks I forget his manager is even in this room. I’m swept up in the hazy green of his eyes.

“We’ve done the background checks and all that—right?” He looks to his manager who was interviewing me and gets a nod. “But how can you reassure me. My staff gets approached by the media daily for any info on me. What’s to say you don’t sell out.”

“I would never,” I didn’t even think of that being an option. “Confidentiality and trust is the biggest pillar of this role and I take it very seriously. You’re like, the biggest celeb of the last year but I know you’re also a person and I wouldn’t betray that. On a person level.”

“So even if you had a really bad day, say I had gotten you to do some impossible tasks. And you’re heading out head full of steam and you get approached by a reporter. £5k for an exclusive.”

I shake my head. “As tempting as it would be, professional ethics reign over any of that.”

“I believe you y/n,” his eyes flicker down to my file. “Good references. We’ll be in touch.”

Now my eyes roam around the small room I’m meant to work out of. It’s the size of 1.5 supply closets with half the walls filled with shelves and cabinets. There’s a small desk but I wasn’t sure how often I’d be sitting at it. All the PAs I’d ever connected with always complained about the amount of time you spend on your feet. That’s why I’d opted to buy myself runners when I got the job.

“Any questions—mind you I have 1 minute for them before I’m off? There’s a suit I have to sort out.” The EA turns to me when we circle back to my office/supply closet.

“Oh,” a million race through my mind. Nothing that would fit in a minute. “I um, I guess I didn’t catch your name?”

He seems surprised at that, and then he laughs. “Oh you’re a doll. This place is gonna eat you alive. I’m Riley and tip for you—don’t be so eager to please. Do your job. Do it well. But you’re not here to be liked or make friends alright?”

He laughs again when he looks at my face. He hands me an iphone and tells me it’s programmed with everything and everyone I needed, then waves goodbye leaving me in a confused spot.

I wasn’t naïve, I knew what working in this industry was like but I was could swear I’d landed a good gig with Harry Styles. And meeting the man himself in the interview had confirmed it.

Maybe Riley was just jaded by too many long hours.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. A text from Grayson: good luck on your first day babe. let me know how it goes.

I only have time to heart it when I hear the elevator open in the foyer. I rush out just for Harry to brush past me and his manager following, chattering away about something.

I follow from behind and watch as he heads to the kitchen. Riley had shown me what he laid out on the island and how I should do it going forward. And like two magnets Harry reaches for the exact bottle Riley mentioned. He downs the smoothie and then collapses onto the barstool.

“But don’t forget what she was saying about the single needing to be global. Sure your fanbase would love it but would the people who hate you have to admit it’s good.”

“I make it for my fans not for the wankers that hate me,” Harry says and his voice is rich like caramel.

“You know what we mean.” His manager suddenly turns directly to me. “Can you contact the studio and let them know to push Harry’s 1pm to 3?”

“Oh,” I didn’t even know they knew I was here. They gave no acknowledgement until now. “Of course. Um, could I just get the paperwork from this morning too? The appoint-“

“Yep,” his manager unhauls the items in his hands. The whole time Harry stares out the window. I’m handed a stack of papers and I carry them to the office.

My hands are shaking when I put them down and I feel a lump in my throat. What was wrong with me? Why was I reacting this way?

I find the studio contact in the phone Riley gave me and let them know. They’re suspicious at first but accept the reschedule. I leave the paperwork for later, figuring I might be needed now.

But the rest of the morning I’m unacknowledged save by a few requests from Harry’s manager. I spend some time looking through the calender in the phone that’s pre-programmed with Harry’s entire life. It’s packed except for this Sunday. I wonder if it was actually free or just hidden from me since it was my one day off.

“You’ve got a passport haven’t you…?” It’s the first time Harry’s spoken to me. He’s changed into a hoodie and shorts, his manager is nowhere to be seen, and I’ve just bitten into a granola bar—the first thing I’d had since my morning coffee.

“Y/n.” I try to swallow the bite whole but at the last minute push it to the side to try to answer. “Erm yeah. I haven’t got it on me though.”

“Right. Y/n. Start carrying it. I’ll need you with me on Thursday I have a morning meeting in Léon and since Riley’s going to be sorting out something for my New York trip in a couple weeks he can’t make it.”

“Yes. I will. Do you need me to prepare anything else for the trip? I’m not sure if you’ve packed or-“

“It’s just a meeting.” He cuts me off. He pulls out his phone, dismissing me.

I swallow the knot in my throat once more.

I go with Harry to the studio since his manager is meeting us there. Alone in the car with him, the silence feels stuffy.

“I never got the opportunity to say thank you by the way,” I try to open up a conversation. All he was doing was looking out the window surely I wasn’t interrupting anything.

“What?” He stares right through me.

“Um, I’m just saying thank you. For the job.”

He nods.

I stay silent for the rest of the ride.

The studio is quiet, which makes sense when I think about it but upon entering an actual room I change my mind. The noise assaults my ears and I nearly jump at the volume but my hand gripping the doorknob keeps me in place.

People swarm around Harry.

“I need my tablet and my notebook,” Harry says amidst the small chaos.

What the fucks was he talking about. “Sorry?”

“My tablet and notebook,” His face darkens and so does my mood. Nobody told me! But maybe I should’ve asked oh my god.

“I don’t have it,” I say lamely.

“Any time I’m in the studio I need those two things. You need to get me my tablet and my notebook.” He speaks like a robot.

“I-I’ll head back,” I get my bag again. “Tablet and notebook, is there anything else?”

He looks angrier than I thought. He sticks his hands in his pocket, shuffles something in his hand before handing it over. “You may as well get lunch. Keep that card on you for business costs.”

I open my mouth to ask what he might want but he turns away as soon as I take the card and I’ve already fucked up royally so I decide to wing it.

In the car I consider googling what Harry Styles ate for lunch and instead will the ever living shit out of myself not to cry.

I scroll through the phone, debating if calling Riley for help would be a mistake. Going through every app for help I realize the countless notes in the app.

Morning Routines, says one. It lists things I should do when the mornings were spent at home, in studio, abroad, in a hotel, or if I walk into a “morning-after” morning. Jeez.

Another has checklists for what to do when travelling, how-to for routine appointments I should be booking, routine people I should be calling.

Why didn’t I look at this before. Right there is one called Studio Days and in bold it says what to bring.

I was an idiot. A big fat idiot.

I try my luck and search lunch. Sure enough a note with possible lunch places in cities across the world pops up.

It was a How-to guide for Mr. Styles.

Whoever put this shit together was an angel. I owed them my life.

I decide to be proactive, sorting lunch out to be delivered to the studio while the car drops me off. I run to the room Riley had said was the home studio. Sure enough I spot the tablet and a few notebooks, I grab all 3. I also grab the charger and ignore the bag of weed chilling on the arm of the chair.

What to do when he’s too drunk / What to do for Interview Days / What to do when he won’t answer the door or the phone / Day-off checklist / Social media checklist.

The dos and don’ts go on and on as I scroll through on the ride back. This was going to be my homework and by the end of the week I was gonna be a genius.

I swipe away and check if I had missed any folders containing precious info. Just the trash.

Out of curiosity I open it and there’s only 1 sitting inside: the donts of working for Harry Styles

I open it:

-don’t let one nice day fool you into forgetting he’s an arse and your employer

-don’t expect any gratitude from a narcissist

-don’t fall for his charm

-don’t shit where you sleep. no matter how tempting

-when he pisses you off which he will, don’t mouth off. what happens next is worse than being fired. which he won’t do because he’s the devil and he will want to keep you around after treating you like shite

-don’t think he’s chill. he’s anything but. follow the checklists and the rules.

-don’t have a life. actually this is a CAN’T. YOU CAN’T HAVE A LIFE WORKING FOR THE DEVIL. LEAVE AS QUICKLY AS YOU CAN UNLESS YOU HATE YOURSELF

I close the phone immediately, my heart thumping in my chest like a steady bass in the background of a song. What the hell did I get myself into.

***

It’s 8pm by the time I head back with Harry. The car is once again silent.

I had spent the day reviewing emails and the checklists, fielding calls and texts. His personal chef had texted to tell me dinner was prepared and in the oven to be re-heated so I figure that’s the last thing I’d do before I head home.

I’d eaten lunch standing while watching Harry sing background vocals to the album he was working on. It was hard to deny how intoxicating it was to see such a talented man work his magic. And it really was magical seeing how a song got put together.

That is until he’d sent me to get tea for the room and I’d nearly spilled half of it on myself getting enough back to the room. I was getting an electric kettle next.

I made a new note then: Reminders to do so you don’t get fired

The notes were my saving grace.

“My head is killing me,” Harry groans.

What to carry at all times: #4 paracetamol and #2 water

Checkmarked after going to the pharmacy while he was in the studio. I’d created an emergency makeup bag with essentials I could throw in my tote. I considered it a win today.

I hand the painkillers to him and he seems surprised. He replaces them with his phone.

“I don’t want to look at a screen for the rest of the night.”

“Okay.” I leave his phone beside me and try not to think of everything on it.

It vibrates a few minutes later and I leave it, not wanting to invade his privacy but he glances at me.

“Well?”

“Oh!” I lift it but it’s locked.

“1021.”

I type it in. “Um, Jeff wants to know if you’re still at the studio-“

“Reply to him.”

I do as I’m told.

“Um Mitch wants to know if you’re-“

“If it’s scheduling questions you can probably answer them without bothering me about it.”

I look up and he’s tipped his head back, eyes closed. Right. Of course I could.

I go through his schedule and find his studio time on Friday and relay it to Mitch. I respond to another text from someone asking if he was going to a gala in a couple months—his schedule said he was in LA so no. I wondered if I would also be in LA in a couple months. I wonder what Grayson would think.

Grayson, I’d had a short call with him a few hours ago and tried not to cry hearing his voice. It felt like home when the whole day felt so foreign.

I stare at the final text. The contact photo is the side profile of a gorgeous woman.

“Kimberly wants to know if you want um,” I feel my cheeks burn. “If you’re inviting her in tonight because she has a party she really wants you to go to.”

“I can’t be arsed for a party I feel like shite.” Harry says, eyes still closed. “Tell her to be at mine after 10.”

“Ok.” I type the words with a racing heart. I remember the morning-after checklist for this exact scenario. It wasn’t going to be weird soon I guess.

I heat up dinner for Harry while he showers and leave letting him know what time I’d be in tomorrow. He doesn’t even say goodbye.

I get home around the time I reckon Kimberly gets to Harry’s. The first thing I do when I see Grayson is shed a waterfall and he holds my exhausted body tight against him.

“Are you sure you want to keep doing this?” He whispers to me in bed after a shower and sandwich—I couldn’t stomach anything more.

“I need this job Gray. It’s gotta get better.”

“I reckon but it’s a steep learning curve,” he says as he traces the curve of my nose.

“I know,” I snuggle closer to him and yawn. I don’t know what he says next as I tip into sleep.

***

If the notes app manual with the dos and donts of being Harry Styles’ PA was a physical thing, imagine me swallowing it.

Every spare second I had—which I didn’t get a lot of, I was reading that thing. My fingers searched tirelessly before every scheduled and unscheduled event. And yet, I’d fucked up so many times.

It was Saturday and I was looking forward to my day off.

He had been hot and cold all week but ever since getting back from Léon he’d been nicer and I’d actually been getting home before 8.

Maybe things were going well, despite the fact that the learning curve was like climbing mount everest.

“What’s my morning look like?” Harry asks. I was sitting at his kitchen table trying to book a dinner for him next week with a friend that was in town. A friend who also happened to be big back where I was from—I hoped to catch a glimpse of her myself.

I glance up and look back down just as quickly. After a week of seeing Harry in all sorts of undress I should be used to it, but my face still flushes. Today he stands at the table in running shorts.

“Pulling it up,” I say and scan his schedule even though I had it memorized. “You’ve got a meeting at the bank in about 40 minutes and lunch with Michael.”

“Can’t my accountant take the bank meeting?”

“She’ll be there. She’s meeting you downstairs to discuss the meeting on the ride over. You need to sign off on some stuff.”

“Stuff,” Harry repeats.

I look at him, careful to train my eyes on his face. I couldn’t tell if he was annoyed at my lack of elaboration or just teasing me.

“Documents.” I correct, still unable to tell.

He look amused. “Great. Documents. I thought I’d be signing body parts.”

Was he joking? He was joking…I think.

“Right. No, we’re saving that for the tattoo shop booked for 6.”

He raises his brows, a slow smile spreading across his face and like the sun coasting over the horizon he looks brighter and prettier.

“That’s mad, that people would get a random man’s signature tattooed on them isn’t it?”

It’s inevitable really, my eyes skim over his torso brimming with tattoos. He notices and laughs. It’s a wonderful laugh.

“I meant they don’t really know me.”

“They admire you and it’s a piece of you,” I shrug. “At least it’s not a portrait of your face.”

“I’ve seen that floating around the internet actually.”

“Really?!” Now that was mad. I pull it up on the laptop and cover my mouth.

“I know.” He hangs his head and we laugh. God, things were finally getting better. This was the kind of relationship I thought Harry would have with his PA.

I scroll through comments and it’s impossible to wipe the smile off my face. I’ve considered myself a fan for a lot of artists but tattooing their face…that was another level of commitment I couldn’t do.

I look back to Harry who has grown quiet. His eyes are on me.

“What happened to your blazers?”

I’d decided to wear a skirt today, it was my lucky skirt—the one I had been wearing when I got the call that the job was mine. It being the last work day of the week I thought it might make me feel good.

I’d paired it with a tank top and a comfy cardigan. I’d finally felt like myself compared to all the button ups and blazers I’d been parading in. But apparently Harry had noticed the wardrobe difference. Shocker because he barely acknowledged me this week.

“I thought I’d dress for a Saturday?” It comes out meeker than I’d hoped. Ugh. “I hope that’s alright. If you want me more professional-“

“That’s alright,” his eyes roam down my body and I feel hot all over. Oh god, I shouldn’t have worn this. “It looks good.”

“Thanks,” I cross my cardigan over my body and try to get back to work but he doesn’t let it end there.

“Did you make that yourself?”

He continues to surprise me, “I did actually, is it obvious?”

“Yeah there’s a big hole down the back,” he teases. I know he is because his eyes are smiling, light.

“Damnit,” I relax a little. He was only interested in the sweater. “I’d finished it late it looked okay in the dark.”

“I have a friend, she made one of those for me. With the patches. Very comfortable.” He’s weirdly intense while looking at me and I feel like squirming again.

“It is. Very stretchy.” My vocabulary seems to shrink.

He leans over to touch the fabric and I feel like a cactus has been stabbed into my neck, I feel hot and prickly. Jeez, I had to chill out. My employer was just interested in my sweater. Super interested. Maybe I should just give him the damn thing. It would definitely fit him.

“Wool,” he smiles. He’s basically perched above me and I think I’m going to have a heart attack. I went from complaining about the fact that he acted like I wasn’t in any room he was in to not even being able to hold a conversation when he did.

I’m caught looking up into his unfairly gorgeous eyes and he looks at me like I’m the only person in the room. Which I was in this instance, but still.

I’m saved by a loud voice coming out of the elevator.

“Harry you car is waiting downstairs.”

Like a book slammed shut, his expression retreats until all that’s left is the cover page with no summary. The friendly Harry from before is gone.

“Oi Harry! I had to come all the way upstairs because I’ve been sitting in that stupid car waiting! Do you not pick up your phone?”

“Lee,” Harry says as he walks across his living room. “If you can’t reach me you call my PA I’ve told you a million times.”

“And I’ve told you a million times not to keep me waiting. We have a lot to cover before we get to this meeting and I need every minute. God why are you shirtless go put on something appropriate!”

Harry miraculously does as he’s told—given I had already laid out an outfit for him. He’s ready in no time. His accountant, Lee? Simply smiles at me and goes back to typing on her phone while we wait.

“Why is that so wrinkled?” Lee judges Harry who walks out in a completely different outfit.

“I don’t have time to change again do I?” Harry bristles.

Lee looks over at me and I’m not sure if she’s accusing me of something or looking for support.

“Mr. Styles I did leave an outfit out for the m-“

“I don’t wear silk.” He cuts me off and walks out ahead. Lee shrugs my way and follows him. I trail behind, feeling worse than ever.

For a miserable hour and a half I sit in one of the most uncomfortable chairs of my life, organizing Harry’s life while I wait for his meeting to end. As hard as I try to concentrate, I keep agonizing over what I might have done wrong to flick his switch. I swear things were going better. And I know I’ve seen him in silk before. Why the hell else would it be in his closet? Why couldn’t I go a single day without screwing up?

I finally spot Harry walking out of the office and gather my things quickly to meet him. I trail behind as we walk down the hall into the lobby, Lee is nowhere to be seen.

A gasp catches my attention and suddenly a girl younger than me rushes up to Harry.

“Oh my…Harry Styles?”

Harry’s face morphs briefly into annoyance, his gaze flicking my way, before pasting on a smile for the girl.

What to do when a fan approaches H (in the wrong moment): be the bad guy, divert, get Harry to wherever he needs to go to and do it quick.

“Hi,” Harry smiles sweetly at her and the friendliness throws me off guard. But this was unexpected and I should get him away…I think.

“Oh my god could I get a picture? My mate is never going to believe this. She loves you so much, so do I-“

“We really have to be going.” I say and the girl looks at me, surprised to find me there. I look around and spot and older woman watching us. Must be her mum.

“Could I just get a picture?” She glances between us.

“I don’t think Mr-“

“It’s fine,” Harry hands me her phone. “Get a photo of us.”

Just another layer of humiliation to add to the rest of the day. The rest of the week. God was I just awful at reading cues?

I snap a couple and then we’re walking free.

He doesn’t say anything. The car ride to his lunch date is spent in awkward fucking silence and I hate myself more with every second I spend in it.

When the car stops at his destination he holds his hand up when I go to open the door for him.

“Listen -what's your name again?" He asks.

Shame and humiliation drip over me like blood on Carrie’s prom night. I repeat it for him. Just like I had daily since I was hired.

“Right. Y/n. You came highly recommended from a friend so I trust you know how to do this job. This job, is to keep my life organized and keep me on track. Make sure I'm not distracted or side tracked by anyone. Including you. It’s not to be my publicist or my fashion advisor or my personal security. Let's stick to the job description okay?"

His words land bitterly to my ears. Not personal. Just a job. Just a job. Just a fucking job. And yet it was starting to feel like my whole life.

“Yes of course.” I hear myself mumble. And like the big clown I had to be, I push open the door and get out so he can too. He walks to the restaurant without a goodbye and I crawl into the car, heading back to his place. Tears burn my eyes but I refuse to let them out. Refuse to admit just how badly this job hurt.

***

“I’m not doing this on purpose,” I hiss into the phone. “You know I’d be there right now if I could!”

“Babe I get it’s your job but you haven’t come to anything in over a month since you started your job!”

“That’s unfair,” I cup my hand over my mouth. “Gray c’mon I’m going to be there just late.”

“That’s what you said last weekend.”

Last weekend, one of our good friends invited a few friends for dinner in their new place and Greyson had had to go alone. Everyone had messaged me to say I was missed but Gray had been stony, pretended to be asleep when I got home and then given me the silent treatment until I wore him down the next day. It was exhausting begging for affection.

“It’s my job Grey I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“Me neither, you know my parents want us over for weekend roast some time but I’ve been avoiding giving them a date because I don’t want you to stand them up.”

“I-“ a shadow shifts in the corner of my eyes and I look up. Harry stands in the doorway. “I have to go we’ll talk later.”

“Whatever y/n,” Grey hangs up and my chest squeezes with all the hurt I was causing. But he saw the state I’d been in since I started this job a month ago and he knows this is just my life right now. Why was he suddenly acting like it was brand new information?

“Are you done your personal call?” Harry asks. He hovers in the doorway, I’d never actually seen him in this little office space. Then again, if he did step in there wouldn’t be much room for either of us to walk around each other.

“Sorry,” I hate myself for apologizing. Here and everywhere else in my life. But I have no other choice. “Can I do anything for you?”

“When are you heading out tonight?” He asks. His eyes glued to my face. I know my eyes are teary and I try to blink it away.

“Um, soon. In an hour or so,” blink blink blink. “Did you need anything from me before then?”

“Yes, I have a friend coming over tonight. Can you order us something for dinner. Something light. And get a bottle to chill for us—champagne. And can you push Monday’s cleaning service to tomorrow afternoon?”

“Consider it done.” I tell him, hoping he would just leave me alone in the dark here.

“Do you have evening plans?” He continues. Why did he never ignore me when I wanted him to!?

“Kind of yeah,” I try to keep it short. “A birthday.”

It was Grayson’s sister’s birthday. She had invited us to a local fave called The Violinist and of course I would only make it to the dessert course if I was lucky. These days, making it to dinner at all was a luxury. I lived off of sparkling water, leftovers, and coffee.

“Well best to finish up what you’re doing so you can head out.”

He leaves and I’m annoyed. Why couldn’t he be nice and just tell me to leave after doing what he asked. But here I sit folding fucking pamphlets for some idiotic pledge he had signed on for. Fuck me.

I’m miserable by the time I leave. I’d managed to finish everything in a half hour so I’d touched up my makeup and changed into a simple dress I had kept in the office closet on Riley’s suggestion.

“A simple black number that could be used for any last minute event.” He’d said. Unfortunately that now counted for personal events too.

“G’night Mr. Styles.” I call out as I walk to the foyer, just so he knows I was going out earlier than I said.

“G’night,” he answers surprisingly. He always ignored me but tonight he sits on the couch. He rises to see me off but I notice him pause and take in my outfit. “Fun night?”

“I hope so.” I unfold the blazer in my hand, suddenly wanting to disappear with his gaze on me.

His long legs walk to me and he takes the blazer I’m fidgeting with from my hands. He actually holds it open and if I wasn’t this exhausted my jaw would definitely be on the floor.

“Oh. Thank you,” I slip it on and turn to face him. As if helping me put it on wasn’t surprising enough, he proceeds to untuck my hair from the blazer.

“That’s alright,” he says in a low seductive tone. “You look nice. Are you dressed up for someone?”

The question is dangerous, toeing a line I’m not sure I want to erase. I try to ease things with a joke. “The birthday girl I guess.”

“A friend?”

“My fiancé’s younger sister.”

Was it just me, or does he bristle when I mentioned my fiancé?

“I didn’t know you were engaged,” he mumbles, glancing down at my hand. I wore a number of rings and I guess the small diamond Grayson had proposed with back when it was the most he could afford, blended in.

“Yeah, nearly a year now.”

“Wow,” he crosses his arms. “Have a date set?”

“Not exactly,” I smooth my hair behind my ears. “We’re thinking next year but we’ve just been so busy with out schedules-“

“What does he do?”

“He’s a personal trainer,” I say proudly.

“Oh,” Harry tilts his head back. “Oh. Now I understand. Now I get the connection. My mate Liam put in a good word for you when I needed a new PA, he said he knew you through his personal trainer. He never mentioned how.”

“I see,” I’d have to thank Liam next time I saw him. He’d been one of Grayson’s first big clients and had become a close friend to us. I’d have to thank him with dinner. If I got any nights off, that is.

“That’s who you were talking to on your personal call?” He asks, his hand tracing my shoulder seam down to my elbow. My heart races from the ghost of his touch.

“Erm yeah, sorry again. I had to take it since it was time sensitive.”

“Best to get going then.”

I take a step backwards and then rush to the elevator all at once. Once I’m on and the doors start to close I turn and catch a glimpse of his handsome face watching me go.

I let out a breath. That was weirdly heavy. And kind of intimate. But weird. That was weird.

I wonder briefly who he was having over tonight. If it was Kimberly, who I’d had the misfortune of meeting in her panties one morning. Or his other “friend” some brunette named Maya or Amaya something. I’d had the misfortune of meeting her when I dropped off a late package to Harry one evening. All were awkward encounters.

I shake away the thoughts and am grateful when Harry’s driver waves me down on the sidewalk. I guess Harry had told him to take me to where I needed to go. My heart is warmed ever so slightly, although I do accidentally nap on the 15 minute drive over.

I make it for the end of dinner and Gray looks relieved to see me even though his eyes hold a hint of something unspoken. I try to ignore it tonight.

“Oh you look beautiful!” I hug the birthday girl, and we sway from side to side. I used to see her a lot before she moved away for uni. “When did you stop being a baby, Josie Duran let me get a look at you.”

“Josefina tell her what you did for your 21st.” Gray says.

“Can you let it go!?” Josie scowls.

“What?” I whisper.

“Mom will kill you,” Gray warns.

“That’s why she doesn’t have to know,” Josie bites.

“Hey,” I put my hands up between the two. “No fighting with the birthday girl. Anyway. Josie, you look beautiful, I’m so sorry I’m late but it’s so good to be here.”

“Aw no don’t worry about it,” she goes in for another quick hug. “I’m just happy you got to come. Gray said the bloke you work for is a nightmare. Tell us do we know him?”

“Ah,” I wasn’t really supposed to talk about him according to my nda. “I dunno if you would. Anyway I’m going to try to steal some of Gray’s leftovers until dessert comes.”

I sit beside Gray where the seat had been left empty and smile up at him, hoping for forgiveness. He sighs and kisses my forehead, pushing his plate towards me.

“Go ahead, have you eaten?”

I had a banana and a yoghurt for lunch but I don’t tell him, just making a vague answer for yes and scarfing down what’s left.

“She got a tattoo,” he says in my ear later as the restaurant finishes singing happy birthday and a cake with sparklers is set down. He’d gotten tipsy and I can tell because he wants to talk about his upsets.

“She’s a grown woman Gray,” I know he was protective and a little traditional—that’s where half of their sibling fights originated, but I always told him he had to let loose a little. “She’s allowed to get it. If I remember you have some tattoos of your own.”

“It’s different y/n.”

“She’s getting older faster than we can keep up with huh?” I lean my head against Gray’s shoulder and let out a big sigh. It feels good, sitting with him here surrounded by friends. It had been a while.

Gray leans his head against mine and doesn’t answer. We watch her friends take pictures like proud parents, watching her cut and then distribute the cake. I should help, but I just could not lift a finger.

“Hey y/n, is that your phone going off?” Josie’s friend beside me points to my facedown phone.

“Is it?” I sit up, my heart doing a number in my chest.

I pick it up, 2 missed calls from Harry and 3 texts. Fuck.

“Leave it,” Gray must be looking over my shoulder. “You’ve gone home now just screw him.”

“I can’t,” I didn’t want Gray getting mad—I know he was kinda drunk and he could make a scene like this. I didn’t want to ruin Josie’s celebration. But I couldn’t ignore this. This is the first time Harry’s messaged me after I’ve gone home. “I’ll take it outside.”

On my way to the door I open the messages. A picture of a bucket filled with ice. A row of question marks. And then: call me

What? What was so urgent about a bucket of-

Oh.

Fuck.

I thought I did everything but I hadn’t. I’d filled the bucket with ice and meant to ask the Italian restaurant around the corner to deliver a bottle like they usually did for Harry but I hadn’t gotten to that part.

I feel like I’m going to vomit any dinner I just had.

I crouch down. Do I call him? Do I pretend I didn’t see this until too late? No. I had to face up. I fucked up.

Deep breaths. Deep breaths.

I call with shaking hands but it rings and rings and goes straight to voicemail. I try again.

I had to get back, get him the champagne. Fix my mistake.

“Y/N,” Grayson’s suddenly outside. “Aren’t you coming back in?”

“I can’t. I…” how do I explain this to my fiancé without it sounding minor as hell. “I forgot to mail some important documents and I need to get back-“

“It’s Saturday fucking night.”

“Yeah but-“

“And guess what?! Tomorrow’s Sunday! The mail’s going nowhere! Fuck that wanker and come back in.”

Gray holds out his arms and I want to go back in but I need to fix this mistake.

I grasp his hand and he smiles, misunderstanding why I held it, “Gray I have to go-“

He pulls his hand away, a sneer on his face. It hurts when he looks at me that way, like I betrayed him.

“I showed up! I celebrated, I got here Gray I just have to-“

“You were barely here! Do you know how upset she was when I said you couldn’t make it?”

“Well why did you say that!?” I demand. “I told you I was only going to be late!”

“I can’t trust that!” He shouts and I try to pull his arm so he quiets but he doesn’t seem to care there are people around. “Your time is all his, every single fucking second! And when you’re not there your brain is going a million bajillion times over about him and his life. Even when you’re with me! What the fuck! What’s up with that!?”

“Gray I’m sorry look I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I swear. I’ll make it up to your sister I-“

“I don’t care y/n,” Gray slips his arm out of my grasp. “Do whatever you want. Nothing I say matters anymore anyway right?”

“Gray,” tears streak my face as I watch the man I love go back inside without another look my way.

Fuck Harry.

I try to call him again but voicemail. Again. Fuck!

What to do when you make a mistake: admit to it—Harry appreciates accountability. FIX IT! As much as you can. FIX YOUR MISTAKES OR FACE CONSEQUENCES.

An alert that my uber was here pings my phone—I take the ride to the restaurant and grab an already chilled bottle. I book it to Harry’s building and ride the elevator up, every floor causing a further dip in my stomach.

The doors open to a dimly lit space. There’s music playing, something jazzy, and it smells like…vanilla? Vanilla roses?

“Hol-hold on,” I hear Harry chuckle. A head pops up from the other side of the sofa.

“Y/n?” He looks as confused as I am.

Oh my god, I realize as a giggle comes from the floor. They were on the fucking floor of the living room? They were on the floor of the living room f…what the fuck did I walk into?

“Just back with this,” I squeak, holding up the bottle.

“Harry did you invite someone else?” The voice asks from below with another laugh. He sighs, disappearing again. I hear a very distinct wet noise before he pops back up again, I look at the doors of the elevator trying even harder not to give in to the panic attack that was looking more and more tempting.

“What are you doing here?” Harry approaches me with a softened voice. Wearing a robe. A silk robe. I knew he wore silk.

“You called—the bottle I’m sorry it totally slipped my mind I-“

“I told you to call me?”

“I did, you didn’t pick up! I thought I should swing by-“

“I thought you had a party?” His forehead scrunches.

“I…” the pieces come together. Did I take this too seriously because Harry didn’t even look angry? Great. I was an idiot and proving to Harry I had no life. “It ended. Early. I…I wanted to fix my mistake and bring the bottle.”

He takes it from my hand, still confused. “Y/N.”

I wait for him to continue but he doesn’t. And lord, in this climate with him in just a robe hearing my name on his lips is not okay. I was going to pass out.

“I’ll leave.” I go back to the elevator but he starts talking again.

“I asked you to call me so I could ask-“ he stops when I turn back around to listen. He closes the gap between us again with a sigh, and I don’t realize my face was still streaked with tears. It was probably more noticeable in the elevator light. He takes his finger and swipes across my cheek, his brows furrowing.

“Sorry,” I swipe my cheek to remove the remaining evidence. “I’ll leave you to it.”

He clears his throat and takes a step back. “Thank you for coming back.”

I nod.

“If you’re going to leave early next time, make sure you finish everything I’ve asked you to do. Don’t skip out like this again.”

“Yes yeah of course,” I stutter, relieved to fit back into our usual roles. For a second there, I thought Harry was going to be kind. And that would have been way worse.

“Good night Y/N. See you Monday.”

“Good night Mr. Styles.”

Gray’s not home by the time I get back. I wake the next morning to his side untouched.

So I do the only thing that felt good these days, I curl up into a ball and cry.

***

Taglist - leave me a message if you’d like to join it :)

#harry styles fic #writingsfromhome #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #asks #harry styles angst #harry styles series #musician!harry #dos and donts #ahhh #i didn’t edit this too much it all kind of came out at once #so ignore any errors #hope this is fun to read #it was fun to write

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tetsuskei · 4 months

Text

belonging - portgas d. ace [nsfw]

synopsis: it’s never the best time when it’s his birthday, but luckily he has you to show him differently

notes: two days late, but this is the bday fic dedicated to my soul, my luvr boy. poured so much into this that it kinda doesn’t make sense but we will roll with it <3 kicking off the year with him and wouldn’t have it any other way !

warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, self doubt, depression (ace has some dark thoughts), anxiety, praise, nipple biting and sucking, body worship, barely edited so probably lots of typos, reader has fem body parts

ace always assumed that ‘falling in love’ was something that happened to other people, not to him.

his entire life had been a series of doubts and questions to himself. doubts about if he deserved the good things that came to him and the people who entered his life.

but gone were the days where ace let out all his anger towards anyone and everyone in the world. if you could ask anyone about him now, they would have only amazing things to say about him. many see him as a brilliant leader, one not to be meddled with. his brothers admire his never ending strength and courage. his spirit was always there to uplift others.

so who would be there to lift him up?

only you have seen who he is once broken down. once he’s out of the public eye, and behind closed doors, he’s a much more sombre person. he’s clingy, and soft. sad, and vulnerable.

it’s not a surprise to you that he struggles with his mind sometimes. that there are days where he may spend too much time in his head, fighting off demons.

“what am i doing here?” he asked one time. it wasn’t a question directed towards you, and from the empty look in his dark brown eyes, you could tell he was having trouble answering himself.

having the blood of a devil circulating in his veins is a double edged sword. he always told himself to not let where he came from hold him back. that mentality had gotten him this far, after all. it became a driving point for him.

but after quickly rising up in ranks and making a name for himself just like so, his mindset started to change. he began to not really know what he was after. yes, he wants to be more famous than his father, but so what? what would come next?

he focused on a much simpler task. he wanted to live each day without regrets.

many considered ace like the sun. he shined so brightly on his own (literally and figuratively), but in a way, it was a curse. he shined so brightly that if anyone came too close to him, he would burn them. they’d scorch up in flames within an instant.

but you were different. despite how brightly he shone, you didn’t let that stop you. it scared him, to say the least. the only people who he was comfortable being vulnerable with in his feelings were his brothers, and yamato being another person. now you were the fourth.

you had picked and pried at him in a way no one ever had before. getting scorched (literally and figuratively) in the process. you showed him kindness and affection that he only saw in the pages of fairytales.

he knew very little about gentleness. but it didn’t mean it was impossible. the feeling of your finger tips running over his bare skin is enough to soothe him. it makes him feel like he is at home and belongs. and in return, he wanted to give you that same feeling.

he wanted to live, and always come back to you.

ace always seemed more tense around this time of year. a little more gruff, and on edge. but not in a way that makes him dangerous. or, at least to you. he just seemed a lot quieter, and more consumed in his thoughts.

his birthday, as it turned out, had always been a sore subject amongst the whitebeard pirates. no one ever pried too much into his past. even after he told you and several others of his father, of his mother, no one wanted to push him to speak more about it.

you don’t make the most grand gesture out of his birthday, only requesting help from thatch to make a grand spread of all his favorite foods, and small decorated cake.

“i’m not going to ask anything of you, but only for you to have a good time. no sulking, kay?” you told him that morning.

when finally getting time alone with your boyfriend that evening, you sat with him, holding him in your arms as the two of you watched the stars.

ace loved when you talked about the stars to him. you told him once that the constellations that sit in the sky are the same ones projected onto his face in the form of freckles. he thought it was the most ridiculous thing ever, until you said one thing.

“the stories written up in the stars are no different from the ones that live in your eyes.”

his eyes always told you what he was thinking. after all, you read him so well. you long since noticed the troubled look on his face, but remained impassive as you know he’ll come to you when he’s ready to talk. for right now, having you as his support is the best thing you could give him.

eventually, he told you that he ‘just wanted to forget about things’ and while you understood what he meant without a full explanation, you wanted to make it known how thankful you are that he’s here. that he was born. that he’s a gifted presence in your life—and so many other people’s.

one thing led to another—shared kisses and words of declarations as you shedded each others clothes off.

right now ace lays under you, a complete mess as you ride his cock. his hat was on your head at first, but now it lays somewhere on the ground.

“ahh~ fuck!” a pretty gasp leaves his rose colored lips, his eyes glazed over with tears. his adrenaline has his blood pumping like crazy, and his cock is of course no expectation to that rule. he’s twitching erratically inside of you, more than likely leaking heavily as he holds back his orgasm. his chest feels tight from how much your cunt is gripping him. it’s like you’re sucking the life out of him.

funnily enough, he’s already cum once, but his stamina, is unlimited. he’d be able to go for hours on end. that doesn’t deter you from your goal of completely fucking him stupid.

ace thinks you look beautiful above him the way that you do. like an angel that descended from the heavens. he doesn’t think he believes in any gods, but he knows surely you were sent by some celestial being to be the best gift he’s ever had in his life.

“you’re doing so good for me, ace.” you hum, leaning over his muscular form to kiss the shell of his ear. he keens when your lips then meet the sensitive juncture of his jaw and neck. your tongue swipes up any access sweat and you hum, cheekily biting him. “taste so good, too.”

his whole body is boiling to the touch, to say the least. black, greasy hair matted to his forehead. his brown eyes are blown out in pleasure, and he thinks he’s dying.

it shouldn’t be possible that he feels this good.

“don’t say that.” he grumbles shyly, hiding his face behind his hand. you pin it down to the bed, eyes glaring down at him.

“it’s true, though.” you argue, “and you feel so good too. always fill me up so well.” you moan, letting your head fall back as you grind down on him, pleasure crawling up your spine as his cock rides up against your cervix, kissing your gummy walls lovely.

“if you keep talkin’ like that i’m gonna cum again…” he warns, whining slightly.

you grin, “that’s the plan.”

ace groans, letting his head fall back on the pillows, “jesus christ, woman, you’re going to be the death of me.”

you laugh, “i would say death do us part, but i’d like to think we’d follow each other into the afterlife. i feel like that’s the true meaning of a soulmate.”

ace can’t help the tears that permeate at his ducts when he feels overwhelmed with love by you and for you.

“well, i hope that if we’re reborn, we find each other in the next life.” he says breathlessly.

you hum, smiling, “of course we will.”

he’s silent before his hands guide your hips, helping you bounce on him. there’s a deafening squelching sound from the combined slick and it drives both of you crazy.

“you’re so pretty, ace.” you say, kissing the freckles on his face.

he frowns, glaring at you, “the correct term is handsome or sexy. men aren’t ‘posed to be ‘cute’.” there’s a pout on his face and it only adds on to your statement.

you laugh, “sure, baby. whatever you want.”

“‘whatever’ my ass,” he says crudely, “why don’t you make yourself useful and cum on me?” he isn’t asking though, and brings his thumb to your clit.

a sharp breath of air escapes you as you realize how much your impending orgasm is creeping up on you.

“wait…” you start, hand reaching out to stop his own.

he swats its away. “you said to make sure i’m having a good time, and this is helping.” he smirks, “no ‘sulking’, remember?”

you don’t have time to answer when your boyfriend leans over you, taking one of your breasts in his mouth to suck.

a loud moan escapes you once a euphoric pleasure washes over you. you quickly seize up before you realize your cumming hard on him.

ace grunts, closing his eyes once he feels you milking him. you’re a walking sin, and the grievance between your legs would be his downfall.

he hooks his hands under your legs before flipping you over to lay you on your back.

“a-ace…” you stutter, looking up in shock at how much his energy has suddenly changed.

“my pretty girl.” he smiles, kissing your nose, cheeks, and finally your lips. “just relax.”

his hips began to steadily rock into you as he takes over the pace, his hefty balls slapping loudly against your ass.

still sensitive, you twitch and jerk under his grasp, feeling helpless and near limp as he rails you.

“nothing ‘cute’ about the way i’m fuckin’ you, now is there?” he grins, hand titling your jaw to the side before proceeding to suck marks into your delicate skin.

a keen slips from your mouth and you try to catch your breath, “o-okay, you proved a point.”

“damn straight.” he moves both of his hands downwards, holding onto your thighs before moving your legs over his shoulders.

the new angle feels as if the wind is knocked out of you. with the way he’s looking at you adoringly, and damn near shattering your pelvis you might as well be conflicted on if he loves or loathes you.

“always feel so fucking good. wish i could stay in you forever.” he moans, biting his lip. “so perfect like this. i’m so lucky.”

you gasp, your toes curling at the way his tip drags itself seamless over your insides. your eyes threaten to roll back but you fight it, seeing how ethereal your boyfriend looks when he’s feral.

he’s never been the best with words, but with the way he takes care of you, especially in the moment you share right now, you can feel the essence of his love. the way his hand reaches grips yours to kiss your knuckles.

“thank you…for always loving me.” he pants, “and for showing me things in life i never thought i’d be able to see.”

“thought i told you to stop thanking me.” you hit him on the head. you pull on his hair but he only groans, cock twitching.

ace pulls back from your neck, “i’m serious, i…i’ve never been this happy before.”

you only smile at him before grabbing his face with both of your hands, kissing him long and passionately.

he ruts into you, chasing his release. his vision is nearly spotting with how sensitive his nerves are, but his body has a mind of its own as it craves endless pleasure.

“s-shit! i’m gonna cum!”

shamelessly, you lock your legs around him, pulling him in closer wordlessly.

he laughs, sweat trickling down his brow, “ah~ you want it again, yeah? can’t get enough of my cum, can you?”

“always need to be filled by you, ace.” you moan, nails clawing helplessly at his back.

you lean forward before your teeth gently sink into a pert nipple, making him shout and swear as his orgasm is triggered.

and as he spills into you again for the second time that evening, you find yourself following him in suspension of death.

ace lays his weight on you, not crushing you, but knowing him and his narcolepsy, he just damn near will in a second.

you use all your strength to turn both of you over, and he grunts. if it was wet before between the two of you, it’s soaking now as his cum trickles down your legs.

“you’re wastin’ it…” he grumbles, holding your hips tight.

“not my fault you’re a human cum geyser.” you retort. “now let me get up.”

he pouts, “just…stay like this for awhile?”

“fine, but you’re cleaning me up.” you warn. “happy birthday, you animal.”

a sleepy grin appears on his face as he kisses the top of your head. “yeah, i love you too.”

and so maybe after all, he could learn a lot more about what life has to offer, especially if that means you’d be by his side. there’s nothing he truly wouldn’t fear anymore. not in life or in death.

#ace x reader #portgas d ace #portgas ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #portgas d. ace x reader #ace smut #one piece smut #op smut #op x reader #one piece x reader #portgas d. ace #portgas ace smut #portgas ace x you

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kinopio-writes · 3 months

Note

Hello! Could you write platonic Dad!Adam headcanons? Thank you,

A/N: Lol. Don’t expect too much out of this guy because…it’s Adam. Heavily focused on him rather than the reader, sorry. Also, I might have gone a little overboard with this one because, uh, this was supposed to be only headcanons as you said, and the not-requested ‘drabble’ ended up being a few scenarios with a one-on-one convo with Adam and Sera at the end. 3rd POV and the reader is referred to as they/it, btw. Enjoy.

Holy sh!t I reread your request again and I don’t know if you meant that the reader is supposed to be the child or fuuuuuuuu—tell me if that’s not what you wanted, I had fun writing this nonetheless.

Words: 727 (not including the bullet points)

Warnings: Very vulgar language because I kind of adapt to certain types of writing depending on the characters, Sex is mentioned, Adam being Adam

———

How Adam would be as a Father (Reader is the child)

• first things first, the only way I can see Adam become a dad was because he accidentally impregnated a chick when she fucking swore that, oh, no, Adam, I’m on birth control. Oh, don’t worry, Adam, you don’t have to finish in my mouth. Oh, no need, Adam, I’ve got it covered. Oh, it’s okay, Adam—yes, this is Adam mocking her

• so imagine his surprise when he found a fucking child at his doorstep crying like a little bitch (it’s a child, dude)

• “What the fuck?” was his first reaction

• he’d find a note that said something-something about oh who gives a fuck about her and her sob story about having to leave the child in his care?

• what mattered was—“THAT FUCKING BITCH LIED TO ME!”

• after that whole ordeal, he would sit in his gigantic ass living room, slumping on his couch with arms crossed and grumbling complaints as if he was the child

• now, don’t tell me this guy knows anything about being a father

• because he doesn’t

• the first few weeks he would really just let someone else take care of the kid

• Lute would be the caretaker most of the time since she’s around Adam a lot

• the problem was that she’s an exterminator

• she wasn’t made for this (I headcanon that exterminators are entirely different beings that are created and are not exactly classified as angels. Explains why all the exterminators are women)

• her purpose was to kill sinners and she certainly didn’t have babysitting on her list of skills

• so eventually, the responsibilities would fall back on Adam

• of course, he had attempted to get in contact with the woman

• he came back with nothing

• wait, nothing? Holy shit, he left the baby—

• and, if you’re wondering, I don’t think Heaven has adoption centers or whatnot because everyone is responsible when they’re thinking of having a child *ahem ahem*

• but, hey, how hard would looking after a child would be?

• probably accidentally dropped the kid once before

• will get mad that he can’t do his guitar solos because they would start to cry even louder

• has probably nearly suffocated it by leaving a pillow in their crib (edited in because this just came to me)

• doesn’t know how to hold it properly

• eventually got it right by observing some of Heaven’s residents

• thinks he’s the best dad because of it

• speaking of residents, they most likely don’t know that the first man has a child

• dude, you really think he’d be caught dead with a kid?

• nuh-uh

• sometimes forgets he has a kid

• have left it in his—I headcanon—condominium completely unattended sometimes

• so, uh, yeah…not looking good for Adam here

let’s get on with the scenarios, shall we?

———

Adam covered his ears with his silk pillows, trying to muffle the sounds of that brat’s whining.

“Ugh! Shut up, Shut up!” Of course, it didn’t shut up.

He banged his head on the pillow repeatedly, swearing he was going to fucking throw this fucking child off the fuCKING BALCONY IF IT DOESN’T SHUT UP—

He had enough and went over to the crib in the corner of his bedroom, snarling. “Y’know, since your mommy was such a quiet whore you’d expect the brat to act the same. She should’ve been honored that she even got my dick. Mine. And this is how she fucking repays me?” The child in question looked up at their father, their cries coming to an eventual stop as he rambled on and on. “Finally.”

The moment he left their sight, however, they started to cry once more.

“OH MY GOD—”

———

Adam arrived home tired as shit balls.

“Not fucking now, bitch,” he dismissed when they reached for him from their place in the crib as he flopped himself on his king-sized bed. At least it wasn’t crying. Rather, it was babbling and flailing its hands and feet. While it was a nice change, it was still annoying to listen to.

Eventually, he decided to shut it up and lazily dragged himself over to the crib, picking it up in his hands and setting it near his shoulder.

“Ugh, there there. Or whatever.” He idly patted the child’s back, plopping back on his bed.

Surprisingly, the kid soon fell asleep without further complaints, nuzzling into their father’s comfortable robe.

Ugh, rude. It fell asleep before he could bitch about his day as he usually did. Instead, he grumbled his own day to himself, his eyelids growing heavy as time passed by.

Adam later dozed off with the baby in his arms, snoring loudly as his wings wrapped around him and the child in his seldom peaceful slumber.

———

The living room was dark. Heaven’s natural light poured through his open windows and the TV played a movie that was most definitely not suited for young audiences. At least it wasn’t anything sexual. Heaven forbid.

In the midst of the oddly serene environment that is Adam’s residence, holy light flashed from beside his couch and the tall figure of Sera appeared. Adam instantly turned the TV off.

“Adam, pardon my intrusion. You still haven’t submitted your forms and they were due yesterday—” Sera interrupted herself when her eyes landed on the baby next to the first man.

“Sera, what gives? Can’t you see I’m busy? Where’s your sense of privacy? Jeez.”

“Adam, is that a child?” she asked rather accusatorily.

“Ugh, yeah, so what?”

“I didn’t think you would—where’s your wife?” She brushed her hair back behind her shoulder, her brows furrowed. “Um, I figured that after Lilith and Eve—”

“Pshh, you’d think this guy would settle down for anyone? Puh-lease. Imagine a world where you can’t fuck the original dick. Worse than any nightmare you could ever dream of.” Adam averted his gaze as his shoulders tensed up.

“So you care for this child alone? By yourself?” Sera looked more worried than ever, which Adam instantly latched on to.

“Are you doubting me? I started humankind—I know what I’m doing.” He settled his arms on the headrest, legs raising to rest on the coffee table as he gave a lazy shrug.

“How long have you kept this child?”

“What’s with all the questions? Uh, I dunno, more than two months, I guess?”

“What is its name?”

“Oh, uh…” Shit. He didn’t really think about that. He only kept calling it ‘kid’ or ‘brat’. “Adam Jr!” he blurted out the first thing that went through his mind. “Yeah, that’s right, everyone would immediately know that this kid is from me, Adam.”

Sera only narrowed her eyes. “Very well. I’m surprised you managed to keep this hidden from me. The child—”

“Adam Jr.”

“…Adam Jr. seems to be doing fine in your hands. But raising a child is no easy feat, Adam.” She took a deep breath in and closed her eyes momentarily. “We will have our discussion regarding your work tomorrow. Have a good night.”

As the seraphim was engulfed with holy light once more, vanishing as quickly as she came, Adam was left to think if the hassle was really worth this brat.

#hazbin hotel x reader #adam x reader #adam x child!reader #child!reader #child reader #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel sera #kinopiowrites

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xxsabitoxx · 5 months

Text

Pale Blue [2] No Context Teaser Suguru Edition

A/N: taking a little break from my finals just to share this cause I miss writing Pale Blue and physically cannot wait for this week to be over.

Pairing is Geto Suguru x Pregnant Reader

“She will be the last client for this year, please let any new potential clients know that I will not be able to meet with them until after the new year.”

She nodded quickly before departing, leaving Suguru alone again as he reached for the paperwork he set down. “What a kind heart you have, papa Geto.” Suguru hadn’t even been able to read the next sentence, laughing softly at Mimiko’s comment. The brunette girl was kicking her feet, coloring intently beside her sister on the plush rug Suguru had put in just for them. “It’s important to help people in need, you know. She seemed like she could really use it.” He smiled fondly at the two sisters, listening to Nanako hum softly as she scribbled onto the page.

“I guess you’re right.”

“You guess I’m right?”

Mimiko nodded, stopping her coloring to look up at Suguru behind his desk. “Yeah, I mean you really don’t need to help anyone. But you choose to do so even when you don’t have to. You have a kind heart, papa Geto.” The small girl repeated her initial statement, smiling softly as Suguru’s expression morphed into one of genuine surprise. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything, watching her small head turn back to the paper she was drawing on, starting to hum along with the tune Nanako had set. Suguru sat there, wondering how a child could think of such things.

He saw himself as anything but kind-hearted at this point in his life. But still, he didn’t have the heart to say those things, especially not to a six year old. Suguru had barely reached for his paperwork again when your face crossed his mind, making him freeze once more. You had been a constant thought in his mind since the day he left. Not even an hour had gone by where you didn’t consume his thoughts, knocking the air from his lungs and paralyzing him for a moment. He missed you. Fuck he missed you terribly and it was enough to render him utterly immobile at points.

Slowly, he forced air back in his lungs, your smile leaving a permanent mark engraved in his mind. He didn’t regret anything he did up until this point, well maybe except for one particular thing. He didn’t take you with him the day he left. He knew he loved you too much to force you into this kind of life, he needed it to be a choice you made out of your own free will. Something cheesy about loving someone meant setting them free when the time came had crossed his mind when leaving you that letter. Leaving it on the bed he once called his own, so long as you were in it, it was his.

But still, the choice to leave it all up to your own free will did nothing to fill the void beside him each night. How desperately he wished you were laying beside him, curled perfectly into his embrace, face snuggled into the crook of his neck. Your natural musk mixing with your perfume, your hair tickling his hands as he held you tight, your chest rising and falling evenly as you slept. He ached to hold you again, finding it hard to fall asleep each night in your absence. But he had made this choice, he had to own it, even if that meant you weren’t a part of his life right now.

“But he knew, deep down, that it was only temporary; you'd come back to him.”

550 notes · View notes

shawnxstyles · 9 months

Text

free session

DATE: AUGUST 8, 2023

summary: tom hurts himself a little at the gym, but luckily, you’re there to reassure him that everything’s fine. when he finally comes back, you decide to show him what a free session is all about.

request: yup!!

words: 7k

warnings: SMUT (slight praise kink, protected sex, dirty talking), language. this was a quick one

note: okay so i don’t do threesomes lmao, but i didn’t state that until after i got this request (this request is 8 months old i’m sorry). i chose to do tom, but i changed a lot, so i’m sorry if this isn’t even what you asked for at all… i hope someone likes it | NOT EDITED

gym!tom x trainer!reader

—

Tom had a steady routine; he went to the gym in the morning, ate, did his day plans or work, ate again, and then went to the gym at night again. Some people thought he was insane for going to the gym so much, but it felt like his second home. Mainly because the gym was his brother’s, Harry.

Harry and Tom were unbelievably close; out of all their siblings, they were definitely the tightest. Tom assisted Harry with renting, paperwork, and anything he needed for his little business, which wasn’t so little anymore. Once he got popular in town, Tom let his brother handle himself after all his constant nagging. Then Tom was off doing his own thing, worrying about his own life and job. It got consistent, tedious, and boring to say the least.

But on a random summer day when Harry called Tom to deliver the bad news, Tom regrets ever thinking that his simple routine was boring.

“Tom, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to find a new gym.”

“What? Harry, what are you talking about?” Tom drops his gym bag on the floor of his apartment, stopping short with Harry’s words. He presses the phone up to his ear, teeth nibbling on his bottom lip.

“I didn’t tell you before, but all my “loyal” customers have fled to the new fitness center down the street. You know, the one by the café?”

“Yeah…”

“It’s only temporary. I need to refurbish and find some more sponsors, and then hopefully, I can reopen.”

Tom sighs slowly into the empty air of his home, looking up at the ceiling in distress.

“I was trying to figure out how to tell you—”

“It’s alright, Harry. I’m glad you told me now. I’ll just… find a new gym.”

“If you go to my competitor, I won’t blame you.”

Tom replies with a hefty laugh.

“It’ll only be temporary.”

So, that’s what Tom has been doing—going to his brother's competitor. However, it was only supposed to be for a few weeks. But it ended up being a few months. Tom’s adjusted to the new gym quite nicely. He likes the wide variety of machinery and how many options he has. When he first came in, he was using machines he’d never even seen before.

Even though his gym was switched up on him, Tom is a routine kind of guy. It only took him a week to adapt to his new environment and get comfortable with everything. He developed a new schedule for his morning workouts since he can no longer go to the gym in the evening. He wasn’t necessarily a morning person, but for the gym-induced high, he would do it.

He had a specific day for arms, legs, chest, back, shoulders—everything. Over the years, he’s done his research on the body, and even took anatomy in high school.

Did that even help him?

To say he’s gym-obsessed isn’t too much of an overstatement, even if Tom disagrees. He would say he’s obsessed with his dog, but not the gym. He refuses to put himself in the category of “gym-bros” and dumbasses that live off protein shakes. Yeah, he likes those shakes too, but he wouldn’t die if he had more than one cheat day in a week. Tom likes to live his life outside of the gym, unlike those people.

Tom worked an average job with a good salary, and relatively lived an average life with good people. He didn’t go out much because he didn’t have many people to hang out with besides his brothers. Harrison has been his best mate since high school, but with both of their work schedules colliding, it’s hard to find the time. Plus, he’s been way too busy planning his wedding.

Yeah, a wedding.

Tom’s not surprised by the fact that Harrison’s getting married. In fact, he’s not surprised at all. Of course he’s happy for his best friend. He’s just… envious in a subtle way. Both Tom and him are 28 years old, and while Harrison met the love of his life and is starting a future with her, Tom is yet to even date a girl for longer than a few weeks.

He’s been on dates here and there, even had a few one-night stands in the past year, but after some time, he just gave up completely. Sometimes, a girl will smile at him or look him up and down, but he doesn’t even try to pursue them like he used to. For the few times that he is out with his friends or brothers and a girl is all over him, he’ll take the opportunity and bring her home.

But it never goes farther than that. And Tom is afraid he’ll never have more than that.

Shaking off the terrible thoughts to start his morning, Tom walks through the glass doors of the gym. He passes the front desk and towards the clean machines that are practically calling his name. The barely rising sun can be seen through the huge window panes along the entire building, making the scene look peaceful.

There were a couple of bodies in the area, but besides the delicate music seeping through the speakers, it was quiet. To Tom, this was tranquil.

After a few simple stretches, Tom snatches the jump ropes. He jumps until his muscles are loose and warm and they’re just itching to be challenged. Today, he decided to do legs with an additional ab workout just because. He was a little extra energized, and he craved for his body to be sore. He doesn’t do this often, but he needs to change it up once in a while, right?

Tom goes straight towards the leg press, knowing that that machine will fire his legs up immediately. When he starts his reps, he already feels the burn. He knows today is going to push his limits, but he’s ready.

—

About halfway through his workout, he wants to give up. But he knows that’s exactly when you need to keep going.

He’s struggling with his squats, really trying to lift these three plates that are taunting him. He can do two easily, which means he has to add weight if he wants to actually gain and keep his muscles. He takes a deep breath before trying to squat for the second time. He slides the padded bar over his ready shoulders. The weight is dawning and plummeting his own body to the ground.

As he lowers his legs, squatting with the best of his abilities, his lower back aches immensely before he drops the bar onto the matted floor. The plates clang against each other in the relatively quiet gym

“Fuck,” he groans and chucks off his headphones, clutching his lower back near his tailbone. This is now the second time he’s failed, but the first time he’s felt this pain. It wasn’t a shooting, sharp pain, but it was aching enough to warn him that he was positioning himself wrongly.

“Are you okay?” A woman’s voice asks concerningly a few feet behind him. Tom turns around too quickly, making his back hurt a little more. He tries to hide his hiss behind clenched teeth when he sees you.

Your eyes were wide with worry and your head was slightly tilted. You were sporting a tight sports bra with matching shapely leggings. You had a towel dangling in your hand and a black shirt in the other. Maybe it was because of his small pain, but Tom couldn’t help dragging his eyes down your body in awe. He hisses at the sight unconsciously.

“I’m assuming that’s a no,” You squint your eyes with a slight tease as you walk up to him. Tom nods while also fixating in the present. He had a tendency to drift off into his head if his imagination wandered enough.

“Yeah, I think I hurt my bad a bit,” he smiles while trying to stretch by twisting left and right.

“Maybe I can help? If you’d like me to,” You offer as Tom stares at you. Your eyelashes are fluttering almost innocently, and Tom is beyond intrigued. He nods with a charming smile, one that you just had to reflect back. It was easily one of the most gorgeous smiles Tom has ever seen.

“Just so you know, I kind of work here. Well—I mean—I do work here. I’m just new,” You rambled. You were a bit nervous. You were a certified trainer, but you’ve never trained someone outside of your schooling. Yes, you’ve done family and friends, but not a stranger. A random stranger who actually needs your experience. You’re not sure how you landed a job at this seemingly high-end gym, but you never question the good things that happen anymore; you just let them happen.

“Good to know. Since you offered, I assume you know what you’re doing,” Tom teases and you roll your eyes playfully. He eased some of your nerves.

When you ask how he was squatting, he explains what he was doing and when and where the pain was occurring. You nodded along to his words, collecting all of it and connecting it to your knowledge. You come to a conclusion long before he’s done and gaze at his body. You know a lot about anatomy and you’ve seen a bunch of bodies throughout your life.

But staring at his ripped and sweaty body has you feeling all warm and tingly. The morning sunlight seems to shine perfectly over his perspiration, twinkling as a few drops slide between his rigid muscles.

“I think you strained your back,” You say simply without blinking right as he finished talking. You shake your head as if you weren’t just ogling his muscles. What is wrong with you? You were supposed to be a professional.

“Oh,” Tom finally says with a slight frown to his face.

“Does it hurt when you turn as well or just when squatting?”

“Mainly just squatting,” he answers.

“Okay,” You give him a once-over as if analyzing him. You were analyzing him, just not in a very professional way. There was nothing professional about how your eyes turned hungry as they gazed at his blessed figure. “The best thing to do is to not sit. Or stop what you’re doing basically. I would say no more squats for a while or anything that strikes pain. But don’t terminate all your exercise. That will actually make it worse.”

Tom nods along to all that you’re saying with understanding. Everything that you’re telling him makes perfect sense, so there was a good minute where he zoned out and just stared at you. Your matching set makes your skin look smooth and defines every curve of your body. The way your hands moved as you spoke had him mesmerized like he was under hypnosis.

“Got it?” You ask as a heat floods up your neck. Tom blinks rapidly and mumbles a yes, but he looks all too distracted. He didn’t hide well that he was staring at you, but he didn’t seem like he was trying to either.

“Is there anything else?” Tom questions as the air between you two gets tense, voice lower than before. Panting and echoing machines are all that are heard in the space around you. You swallow your sudden nervousness that was about to cough up a whine. You wondered if he wanted you to say something else.

Maybe he wanted you to confess. Confess something that you were both thinking, but you both didn’t know.

“N-No,” You slightly stutter out when you answer, smiling to try to cover this feeling that’s bubbling up inside of you.

“Well, I guess I’ll just do the treadmill before I head out.”

“Right. Sounds good. Have fun!” You ramble as he walks away, chuckling with each step he takes. You turn away and your smile instantly falls as you groan to yourself, “Have fun? Why did I say that?”

You run your hand over your face as you try to regain your lost pride. When you walk back into the coach’s area, you slip on your uniform shirt, so people are aware you actually work there. You take a deep breath and mentally slap yourself in the head for being so unprofessional. You barely just started working here and you’re already breaking rules! You’re not allowed to have relationships with your clients. Wait, that’s a rule, right? Now, that doesn’t make much sense…

But you know for certain that thinking about someone sexually after just meeting them, rule or not, client or not, it’s inappropriate. You’ve never looked at someone and just completely melted at the sight of them. You can’t stop picturing the way his leg muscles flexed as he carried the heavy weight of the squat bar. Or the way his cheeks reddened and hollowed out air as he pushed himself to stand up straight.

Although you watch and help people work out for a living, you’ve never found it entertaining. But for some reason, your mind is just so utterly fucked over by this random guy that you’ve never seen before. He looks like he’s been doing it a long time, especially with that figure. Has he been at this gym for a long time? He seems like he has.

Your mind likes to wander and wander as you do busy work and wait for the day to end. From your area, you weren’t able to see the front doors, so you never saw the stranger again that day. You assume he left soon after your departure, but you wish that you saw him just once more. Maybe you’d get the confidence to catch his name and even offer a session. Free of charge, you imagine yourself saying accidentally because you’d be so distracted.

Throughout your shift you helped a few people and even assisted in the group exercise class. Though, you loved when you had one on one trainings the most because you got to see your client grow their strengths and their weaknesses.

As your shift came to an end, you collected your bag with a heavy sigh. It was only the afternoon, but of course you didn’t have any plans. You had spent a year working to become a certified trainer, but brought no one with you along the way. You took a gap year when high school ended to try to figure out what you wanted to do, and then you discovered training and you felt comfortable. You had some friends, but none were strong enough to stay with you. It was really just you, with the occasional hangout with your older sister who lectured you sometimes.

You felt lonely sometimes, but it’s not like you really tried to fix it either. You went out every blue moon, waiting for some magical miracle to occur. Nothing sprouts; no love, sex, relationship, or friendship spawned at your feet when you’re out late at night in a bar or club. So, you kind of just stopped going. Was it sad to say you kind of lost hope in dating and sex?

Besides the point, when you entered your apartment, you were alone. Just like most days when you weren’t busy researching ways to start a business.

Oh, was that mentioned?

You wanted to start your own business with your certification. However, it was hard because you had little to no experience in business. Your dad knew good tips and tricks, but he wasn’t experienced enough either. And since you were quite lonely, you hadn’t made many connections to people that might have loads of talent in the field.

One day, you would actually talk to someone, you swore. And they would help make your dreams of a business come to life. It’s not that you didn’t believe in yourself to make it happen; it was more than a reasonable goal. It’s just that you’re so unmotivated right now because of your lack of connections.

Ugh, why does life have to be so difficult?

—

Tom wakes up early with groggy eyes and a sore back. He had done some research online last night on how to sleep with a strained back. He was told to lay on his side with a pillow stuffed between his knees. But of course when he woke up in the morning, his body was flailed across his mattress like an eagle, pillows completely disregarded from him.

When he tried to sit up too quickly, a sharp pain erupted in his back, making him sit right back in the bed. Maybe he should just take his time like the woman at the gym said…

You were slightly disappointed you didn’t see the good-looking stranger again on your shift. You shamelessly glanced around the machinery, hoping to recognize his bulky shoulders and defined muscles, but they were nowhere to be found.

You got to see a few good bodies, but there was something about that stranger that just made your insides tingle.

Again, so unprofessional. This is why you can’t start a damn business!

—

Tom didn’t go to the gym for a week. A week!

His back was just in too much pain and lifting heavy weights sounded tortuous. He still went to work and went on evening walks with his dog, but he felt pretty lazy. He forced himself to take a week off of the gym to heal, and thankfully it worked. His mind kept lingering to the pretty woman who talked to him, but he kept excusing it with his pain. He must only be thinking of you because you gave advice he needs to remember, right?

By the next week, Tom was already back in the gym. He walked through those glass doors again, quickly checked in, and headed towards the machinery. He moved slowly as his eyes subconsciously tried to find you again. Tom had this… need to tell you that he’s okay and that your advice worked. Again, it was just an excuse, so he could talk to you again. Maybe he would see your name tag this time, or just ask for it blatantly.

He makes a quick once-over of the area, and is a bit disappointed when he doesn’t see you lingering. He goes straight towards the jump rope to refresh his muscles that have been resting for one of the longest times since high school.

Tom jumps and jumps and jumps… and then nearly falls over when he sees you turn around after doing a squat. The curve of your ass in those leggings made his mouth water and your charming smile made him crazy.

Before he knows it, you’re approaching him while he’s completely phased.

“Hey, I see that you made it back. How is your… back?” You ask, squeezing the towel in your hand with an intense grip. Your heart started fluttering a little from just the sight of him, and you wondered why you were getting so worked up over a stranger.

“It’s all good now! I think,” Tom chuckles while rubbing his neck. He nervously twists the rope between his fingers, trying to think of a way to keep the conversation going. “I, uh, never caught your name.”

Your heart skips a beat and a smile threatens to take over your face. It was such a little thing, but you’ve been wondering what his name was for the past week. A name to a face to fit your fantasies.

“Y/N,” You smile, but your eyes struggle to meet his face. He was just so gorgeous you felt like you might be blinded if you looked too long. “And you?”

“Tom,” he surely answered with a nod.

“That fits you very well.”

“What do you mean?” he questions and your eyes go a little wide. You hadn’t meant to say that. It sounds creepy and weird; to say that his name fits him… as if you were thinking about him.

“Well—like—I was wondering what your name was when I first talked to you and now that you said it, it makes sense. Not that I was thinking about you all week or something… that’s just creepy!” You awkwardly laugh after your ramble, thinking of the fastest way to leave this conversation so you can regroup. This is why your dating life is so shallow. You can’t hold a conversation for a second without rambling out nonsense or making a fool of yourself. It’s typical, really.

You thought he was going to laugh at you like a bully and walk away from your weirdness. But instead, he softly chuckles at your antics while staring at your face. Noticing that he’s still standing in front of you, you slowly drag your eyes up his body until you finally meet his eyes.

They’re that perfectly golden brown color that looks like oozing honey when reflected off the sun. Since you were only a foot away, you could see his nose was a little crooked and he had an uneven eyebrow. His hair seemed a bit unruly, but all you wanted to do was run your hands through it.

“I’ve been wondering what your name was, too,” he finally admits when the air around you feels like it’s closing in. Your heart was beating as if something was going to happen, but you knew nothing would. Nothing was going to happen in front of all of these people.

“Really?”

“Mhm,” Tom hums as he watches your pupils dilate and eyes struggle to look at him. He’s been thinking about you all week, he can admit that, but now you can’t even look at him? He wanted to see your pretty eyes. “I’ve been wondering about a few other things as well.”

“Oh? Like what?” Your voice was slightly breathless and you felt the need to check over your shoulder every second. You felt like you were breaking some rule and you were able to be fired on the spot. It felt so wrong, but you wanted to see where this goes. You were all too intrigued by this glorious man before you.

“Like why you can’t look at me.”

“What? I’m looking at you!”

“Not longer than a blink.”

“S-So? Do you want to have a staring contest or something?” You bite your tongue when you stutter.

“Maybe. I just want to see your pretty eyes,” Tom didn’t plan on calling your eyes pretty right off the bat, but his bluntness is what made you finally look up at him. He saw innocence as well as desire laced within your irises. And he wondered if you really had been thinking about him all week. If you had, that would confirm that you want more. It would confirm that Tom isn’t crazy, and that there is some type of spark in between you too.

Will a one-time thing, like sex, dull the craving spark, or ignite it?

“We can’t here,” You say barely above a whisper.

“Do what? A staring contest?” Tom begins to smirk causing you to groan. He’s got to be one of the cockiest people you’ve ever met, but he has every right to be. Usually, you hate men that know they’re attractive because their cockiness just makes them an asshole. But Tom is the funny type, who pretends to be cocky, but he’s actually really humble.

How did you get all of that from only two conversations with him? And they were barely conversations!

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually. Care to tell?”

“You want…” You can see the way he tries to hide his growing smirk and it tells you all you needed to know. The air thickened between you both, heavy with tension and heat. Your heart was racing and your stomach burned in a way that pushed your courage over the edge. You’ve needed something like this for a long time, you just never knew how long you actually needed it. “You want me to give you a session!”

Tom clicked his tongue at your teasing, slightly chuckling. You blinked your eyes as you flashed your fraud innocence at him.

“What does the session include?” His voice was low and deep. There was a certain rumble in his tone that made your legs feel like jelly and your mind go blank.

“I-I can show you. Let’s go in the back,” You try to remain as playful as possible, but you were absolutely losing it. You just wanted him to take control and kiss you as hard as possible; to do the unimaginable. Of course, the horniest you’ve ever been in your whole life is at work of all places. There’s no way there isn’t a rule about having sex in the gym. You’re sure people have done it before, but never employees. That had to have been prohibited.

But your desire is taking control of all your actions right now as you lead Tom through the gym and into your miniature office. Since you were relatively new, your office was in the back of the gym in a little room. The other offices for the more experienced trainers were near the front and were wide open to the public. You didn’t like how your space was so far away from everything because it made you feel disconnected, but right now, you’ve never been more grateful.

As you guide him into your office, you shut the door and push in the lock. You had a small wooden desk with a single picture frame and a laptop. A few different papers lie across, but you’re quick to stack them and slot them in the first drawer. When you stand back up, Tom is closer to you than ever, hovering right over you.

Your heart rate increases exponentially as his hungry eyes pierce your soul. Your impulses want to rip his shirt dramatically off of his torso, so you can run your hands all along his sweaty, ripped stomach. You’d make sure to kiss every centimeter of skin before landing on your knees for him. You’re almost positive you’d do anything he’d ask. Before you can even blink, he’s leaning in, cutting the distance and inching closer to your weekly fantasy.

“So what do I get?” His voice was breathy as his eyes flicked from your eyes to your lips. You couldn’t help but do the same.

“Anything. Anything you want,” You respond way too quickly, your desperation spilling out from you. Out of instinct, you took a step back from him, making your back bump into the wall. He was crowding your space as much as he could without actually touching you. And it was utterly killing you.

“What a generous trainer,” he placed his hand delicately on the wall next to your head. “Do you do this with all of your clients?”

“Only the fittest,” Your lustfulness made you brutally honest as if you had chugged truth serum. “But no, I’ve never… brought anyone back here before.”

“The first and the fittest. I might just have to book a session.”

“Luckily, a spot just opened. You can have it,” Your eyes meet him again. The second he sees your eyelashes flutter up, there’s nothing stopping him from kissing you. Not the tension, not the voices in his head, not the fear of someone knocking on the door asking for you.

Tom’s lips crash against yours in an eager kiss, lips melting together from the heat you’ve built up. It’s sweet and it’s salty, but it’s fulfilling that nagging ache you’ve wanted cured all week long. Your hands immediately find their way to his luscious curls, lacing your fingers through them just like you imagined. His rough-textured hand cups your jaw, angling you directing into his mouth when he slots a bit of his tongue inside.

His body presses forward against yours, rock-hard, stiff, and hot. The feeling of his heaviness and warmth was even better than you had conjured up in your crazy, little head. His rhythm was easy to rock with, and your body gravitated towards his. You whimpered into his mouth when his growing bulge poked the bottom of your tummy. Tom took that as a sign and popped off of your mouth. He trailed his wondrous mouth down your pulsing neck, causing you to stab your teeth into your lip to keep quiet.

Tom kissed and nibbled your skin without a care of who might see the marks. He didn’t know what would happen after all of this, but he wanted you to have at least one memory when it was all over. When reached your collarbone, he forced himself off of you.

“What do you want?” he grumbled.

“W-What? I don’t know! Anything, just do something, please.”

“You’re the trainer. You’re supposed to tell me what to do, no?” Tom’s teasing sends a tingle down your stomach that hits you straight in between your legs. “Do y’want me to fuck–”

“God, yes. Do anything, please,” You groaned, trying not to sound too desperate, but it was difficult when that’s all you were.

“Alright, alright, don’t worry.”

Tom pushed himself off of your body to remove his shirt. His glorious body was perfectly defined by his packed muscles wrapped in his tan skin. His skin looked so smooth, like a silky blanket. Your impulses got the best of you and before you could even think, they were roaming his god-like figure with curiosity.

“How are you so fit? Who is your trainer and how can I learn from them?” You question both jokingly and seriously. When he laughs, you can feel it vibrate through your fingertips and it makes you feel all fuzzy.

“I train myself, but I know some great cardio exercises I’d be willin’ to show you,” he winks as his hand lands on your hip. It was your turn to laugh now, your voice breaking the tight tension.

“Please,” You begged, tugging both of his hands toward you. It was your way of saying that he could do whatever he wanted now. “Go ahead.”

So he did. You removed your tennis shoes and then he yanked down your leggings. You were so needy at this point you didn’t even bother to discard your snug bra. If anything, you’re going to need its security with all the movement you’re about to do (hopefully).

His hands grabbed the hem of your leggings until they were completely off of your legs. You’re left in your soaking thong while he’s still in his loose gym shorts. Tom doesn’t waste another second because he’s growing just as impatient as you. He can feel himself twitching in his briefs, craving for a satisfaction that only you can seem to sedate.

Without a warning, Tom cups your mound with delicacy, fingers pressing against your aching hole. The gasp you let out is unwavering as your cunt clenches around nothing but your own desperation. He scrunches his palm, rubbing your underwear as you soaked through the fabric.

“Can feel that you’re soaking, darling,” Tom husks beside your ear, sending shocks of heat down your spine. You’ve never been so turned on in your life from someone, especially because of a deep, sensual accent like his. “Did I do this?”

“Yes, yes. All for you,” You nearly whined, but you withheld it with a strain. “Please just fuck me already.”

“What’s the rush, love? Got somewhere to be?” he taunted. You didn’t have anywhere to be and he seemed to know that. He was lucky you didn’t have any clients today or have any appointments. It was like the perfect coincidence that this occurred on this day. You’re grateful for the fate of the universe as he slips his hand into your panties to lace his fingers within your wetness.

“So fucking wet, love,” he grumbled so low you could barley hear it.

“I need it, please,” This is the most submissive you’ve ever been. You can’t recall a time where you have ever been this wet or needy for another man. There’s just something incredibly alluring about the man about you, rock-hard body and all.

“What do you need? Do you need me to put my finger in your tight, little hole? I bet it would just slide right in.”

“Fuck, Tom,” You growled in sexual frustration. His mouth spilled utter filth, but you were loving it. You felt the very tip of his finger nudging inside of you, causing your walls to clutch tightly. “I need you to fuck me. Please. No teasing.”

With an ever-growing smirk, Tom slips his hand out of your underwear and glides the material down your jelly-like legs. Your eyes never leave his hands, too scared to meet his intimidating eyes. You watch him with curiosity and desire as he tucks his thumbs in the waistband. His briefs come into your view and your eyes widen when you see the impressive bulge outline.

You swallow, intimidated by his size, especially since you haven’t had sex in a decent amount of time. He hasn’t even pulled down his underwear yet and you’re already frothing at the mouth.

“Do you have a condom?”

“I, um,” Your eyes wander around to your purse on the floor by your desk and you quickly bend down to pop it open. In one of your secret pockets, there is a nicely wrapped condom. “Here. I hope it fits.”

Tom laughs as he tugs his briefs down with ease. “You’re not good for my ego.”

You wanted to laugh in response, but you were too distracted by his cock. Mesmerizingly, you gaze at his hand stroking his veiny length, seemingly as desperate as you with pre-cum leaking at the tip.

Instead of grabbing the condom from your hand, Tom says, way too gravelly, “I want you to do it.”

So, with shaky hands and doe-eyes, you rip open the package and slide on the latex. The look on your face can easily make it seem like you’ve never even seen a dick before. But now looking at Tom’s, it feels like all the others are down the drain.

Within seconds, Tom has you back against the wall, one hand resuming beside your head and the other on your hip. Your heart jumped and pussy throbbed, waiting for him to break the lustful barrier in between you two.

“Ready?”

“Y-Yes,” You whimper as the head of his cock glides along your thighs before sliding in between them. Your arousal soaks the condom as he grips one of your legs, hoisting you up and around his waist. Your arms instantly wrap around his neck for security as your leg connects to him like a koala.

With one leg on the floor, you try to maintain your balance as he finally thrusts into you. You both collectively groan in sexual satisfaction, finally having your craving fulfilled. When you thought he had pushed all the way in, Tom pumps deeper inside of you, causing you to squeal.

“Shh, darling. Don’t want anyone to hear us fucking in your office, do you?” Your moans contradict his request, but you can’t help it. His hips were flicking up into you so fucking deliciously, and you couldn’t stop yourself from bucking right back into him. “Or maybe you do. You want someone to walk in and see one of their trainers getting their brains fucked out?”

“M-Maybe,” You couldn’t lie, the idea was enthralling. The idea and his dirty words made your toes curl and eyes roll to the back of your head. He knew exactly what to say and when to say it, almost as if he’d studied this.

“But I don’t want to get fired,” You whined a little too loudly.

“Well, then you better be a good girl and quiet down.”

In order to obey his demand, you brought one of your hands to cover your mouth. You allowed yourself to moan in your palm when his pace increased and he bottomed out completely. You could feel yourself fluttering around his cock as he rammed into you like no tomorrow.

His free hand traveled down to your clit and circled the throbbing bud with roughness. You shrieked against yourself, clenching tightly around his thick cock to compensate. Blindly, you are clawing at the skin on his neck and chest. Still, even when he was deep inside of you, you were terrified to look into his dark eyes.

With every thrust, you felt the way his muscles contracted against you. You felt and heard the way you drenched his cock even more with the sight. His muscles and body were the first thing that caught your eye about him to begin with, so you’re not totally surprised that you’re dripping from that.

He looks like a model. A statue. A god.

Small beads of sweat began to form on his abdomen, glazing down his chunks of muscle as he jammed harder into you. Your head hit the wall hard in ecstasy when he lowered himself to your neck and nibbled right below your ear. Every breath and groan that slipped from his mouth just sent you into overdrive and made you insane.

“I’m close,” You breathily warned, squeezing your leg tightly around him to push him even deeper. Tom groaned loudly on accident, too overpowered by the feeling of you.

“Wish I could hear your sweet sounds,” Tom mumbles as he pinches the top of your thighs to make you squeal. He resumes his attention on your clit, so he can distract himself from coming, because he knows he’s milliseconds away from absolutely losing it. “I know you’d sound so pretty screaming my name.”

“Tom,” You whimpered instead, eyes screwing closed. Your back began arching towards his buff chest and your breathing was becoming more rapid, indicating that your release was right around the corner. “I’m coming, shit.”

“Let go, love. C’mon, know you need it,” his lovely accent guided you through it with gravel encouragement. With another skillful rock of his cock, you were coming until you saw stars. Literally. Your eyes were closed so tightly that you saw little white specks in your vision. “There you go.”

Tom took that as his sign to finally relieve himself. As his thrust got sloppier, he helped you through it. With a fist to the wall and head in your shoulder, he came harshly in the condom.

Your body squirmed in his hold, already too sensitive. He gently let you stand on both feet, keeping you steady as you regained your balance. He removed the condom, tied it, and tossed it in the garbage.

“I can take out y’trash if you want me to,” Tom offered as you both slipped on your clothes. The humidity in the room seemed higher than ever, and then to put your clothes back on was just torturous.

“It’s alright, it’s not like anyone will go through it,” You reassured as you struggled to pull up your sticky leggings.

There was a moment of silence that made your heart rate pick up.You were both fully dressed and there was nothing stopping him from walking out. What was he thinking? Was he trying to find the best way to leave without being mean?

“I—” You both spoke at the same time, a flush burning your skins.

“Go ahead,” You insisted, too nervous and impatient for his response. He probably never wanted to see you again and that was fine, this was just a one-time thing that you will be thinking about occasionally. Or every day.

“Okay,” Now, Tom couldn’t seem to meet your eyes. He felt a tad nervous all of sudden as if he’d never talked to a girl before. He’s done this stuff loads of times, but he can’t help but get flustered like a school boy. “Can I… have your number? You can totally say no—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted your number and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it. A smile grows on his face that was even bigger than his devilish smirk from earlier. “What does this mean?”

If you didn’t ask him, you would’ve been regretting it forever. You knew you wouldn't have had the courage to text him that question. What if he never even texted you, and he was just asking for your number to be nice?

“It means I’m going to text you.”

“Okay, well, thanks for clearing that up for me,” You rolled your eyes, but at least he was honest.

“Maybe ask you out too.”

“Really?” Your heart jumped on a trampoline in your chest, excitement bubbling up within you. You have been on a date in about a year, and Tom seems like a wet dream come true. You thought that maybe he wanted a friends with benefits arrangement, but a date? Is this real life?

“Yeah, if that’s something you want—”

“Yes,” You probably responded way too quickly, but you didn’t care. He wanted to take you on a freaking date and you weren’t going to waste a second pretending to think about it.

You did give him a free cardio session. The least he can do is take you out, right? What’s better than a free cardio session? Free food!

—

thanks for reading, this isn’t my favorite thing i’ve ever written because it felt a bit forced… so sorry about that 😭

tags: @lnmp89 @crybabyddl @pretty-npeach @marine-mayday @aerangi @justanotherpasserby-blog @tinafuentes @moniffazictress11 @eywaheardyou @alwaysclassyeagle @raajali3 @mrstealuregirl @bisexual-desi @sherlockstrangewolf @madsttx @graywrites20 @bradtomlovesya @princesspannnn @sageisswaggg @purplerose291 @girlbossnancy @lockwood-lover @theslayerofthevampires @breaxthing @eatshitanddiee

crossed out= not able to tag

#shawnxstyles #tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fics #tom holland fan fics #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fan fic #tom holland gifs

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taegularities · 2 years

Text

colour me in | jjk (m) | masterlist

Jungkook's door only opens for you when there's a barter: a trade of lust and haze. But today you knock for something more, as intriguing as it is frightening – and you hope it doesn't close his door forever.

➳ pairing: Jungkook x reader

➳ genre: fwb, fake dating, college!au; fluff, angst, smut

➳ contents & warnings: artist/fuckboy!JK, annoying parents, endearing friends, lots of smut and fluff, misunderstandings; and more chapter specific warnings! | 18+

➳ current word count: 339.8k

➳ status: ongoing

➳ cmi’s mood: still with you and my you by Jungkook | collaborative playlist 🎶

⁂ CHAPTERS

✩ indicates parts relevant to the story | ❀ indicates fillers/drabbles (can be read as stand alones)

PART I: THE SEEDS

⤞ colour me in (9.8k) ✩ | lowkey by niki

"I need you to be my boyfriend. Please.” “Your what now?”

⤞ cmi: outlines (10.6k) ✩ | slow down by chase atlantic

“If I’m somewhat okay to you, angel... may I kiss you then?”

⤞ cmi: layers (18.4k) ✩ | stay (acoustic) by zedd & alessia cara

“I just want you to know that if I ever put you on a pedestal, it wouldn’t be because of any amount of money you own.”

⤞ cmi: too much (7.2k) ❀ | heavenly by cigarettes after sex

“I think if you wanted to… or tried hard enough, you could break my heart.” “...How?” “I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna find out.”

⤞ cmi: lights (25.2k) ✩ | ruin my life by zara larsson

“You just called me to tell me about the burn?” “Yeah. But I think... also to tell you that I miss you.”

⤞ cmi: the canvas (22.8k) ✩ | with love by christina grimmie

“You’re coloured in now for real, aren’t you?” “Feels more like you’re colouring me in.”

⤞ cmi: not enough (4k) ❀ | this is how you fall in love by jeremy zucker & chelsea cutler

“Those New Year’s Eve parties bore me more than you’d know.” “Why did you come then?” “'Cause... I guess I knew you’d be here.”

PART II: THE GROWING

⤞ cmi: silhouettes (23.7k) ✩ | rumors by sabrina claudio & zayn / kiss me by ed sheeran

“We've played our parts in this fake thing. But I’m still here, with you. Why?”

⤞ cmi: undying roses (3.3k) ❀ | i can’t fall in love without you by zara larsson

“...You remembered?” “How could I not?”

⤞ cmi: monochrome (21.6k) ✩ | reflections by the neighbourhood

“You didn’t look at me even once, I–” “Because if I do… I’ll break.”

⤞ cmi: letters from the heart (17k) ✩ | jk pov | angels like you by miley cyrus

“And even with Nara, you didn’t behave like this.” “Like what?” “Like… Like you want to go back to how it was.”

⤞ cmi: unhindered (12.2k) ❀ | love on the brain by rihanna

“You came because you want me, and that’s driving you crazy.”

⤞ cmi: blurred (31.7k) ✩ | the only exception by paramore

“I hate that I’ve grown to crave you.”

⤞ cmi: blue (30.4k) ✩ | only love (acoustic) by pvris

“It’s easy to lose someone when you open up. It fucking scares me — and it’s never scared me as much as with you.”

⤞ cmi: seven (25k) ❀ | seven by jungkook

“I mean it. Just… If you must know? I would’ve been okay with handing you all the control, okay? All of it.”

⤞ cmi: redraft (25.3k) ✩ | i need u by yaeow

“You’re… kind of ridiculously amazing. You’re someone who gives all those people hope who don’t believe in humanity anymore. And I admire you in every way.”

PART III: THE BLOSSOMING

⤞ cmi: translucent (35.8) ✩ | say you won’t let go by james arthur

“I’m not good with words, baby. And I don’t know how to ever properly verbalise something like this.”

⤞ cmi: blooming (15.6k) ✩ | daylight by taylor swift

“You excite me all the time.”

⤞ cmi: palette (??) ✩ | ?? | next!

. . .

and more!

⁂ BONUS

⤞ ask my character; colour me in edition ⤞ cmi theories 💭 | cmi drabble ideas 🖌 | cmi memes 😁 ⤞ character sheet 🧑🏻 ⤞ cmi timeline (spoilers ahead!!) 🕰 ⤞ cmi couple’s dream apartment, art by yaila 🤍 ⤞ cmi moodboard, made by ivi 🤍 ⤞ cmi audio commentary | commentary post 🎙

⤞ requested drabbles:

frat party; nara & jungkook jealousy; jungkook x reader (ft. taehyung) day out; jungkook x reader jealousy #2 (read cmi5/the canvas first!); jungkook x reader perilla leaf/jealousy #3; jungkook x reader

⤞ FAQ:

When do you update? Randomly! Usually on Fridays around 8PM EST, but I don’t have a schedule for CMI. Whenever a part is done!

How many chapters will CMI have? I haven’t planned out every part yet, so I can’t say for sure. Definitely more than 10, though.

What inspired you to write CMI? Menacing pictures and my lovesick brain 🥲.

What role does Nara play? Jungkook talks about her in the fourth chapter, Lights. More to come later!

What do ‘part I’, ‘part II’ etc. in the masterpost mean? I explained (or tried to explain :D) it here, but the tl;dr version is that the story is divided into 3 arcs. One arc focuses on one main aspect of their relationship (e.g. arc 1 is the beginning; them getting closer).

✒︎ join the taglist! ♡

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im-not-corrupted · 10 months

Text

A sequel to this Dreamling fic here, though this can be read as a standalone. Written for @merry-moody-missy, who requested I write more and get the two of them together. Also, thanks to @samsalami66, who gave me a prompt (that felt more like a fic outline, but that’s great too XD) for this fic.

Edit: Part one and two are now on Ao3!

--------

Dream came to him more often, after that.

Once a month became once a fortnight. He wasn’t half as reserved these days as he typically was; if anything, he seemed to be even more comfortable in Hob’s presence, now. It was rather wonderful to witness for Hob, who, for the longest time, knew Dream only as his distant Stranger. A far star, unreachable. A sun for him to orbit, but a sun who would only bless him with light once a century.

Every two weeks, Dream appeared beside him at some point in the day. It didn’t matter where; he’d often appear at the back of Hob’s classes while he was working, entirely unnoticed by his students. Or he would materialise next to him and fall into step as Hob walked home, content to follow in silence, or to listen as Hob recounted his day.

The first time he did that, stepping up next to Hob when the space beside him had been previously empty—well, the first time scared him half to death, naturally. That simply wasn’t the kind of thing one grew to expect, even after living for nearly seven centuries.

(He didn’t care. In fact, Hob looked upon that day with fondness, a grin upon his face, because that was the first time he’d heard Dream laugh.

He didn’t have a particular lovely laugh. It wasn’t melodic, or sweet. It wasn’t the kind of thing you expected to be a sound of joy at all, really—if Hob tried his best, he’d only be able to describe it as an awful, croaking thing, terrifying and perhaps the least lovely thing he’d heard before—but Hob didn’t care at all, because Dream laughed.

Loudly, and without abandon. Rosebud lips had spread wide in a smile that stole Hob’s heart entirely, and the joy in his eyes was unmatched. There, stood in the middle of a London street with laughter in his face and sunlight catching his stray hairs—well, he was beautiful, and Hob found himself falling.)

(No. No, that wasn’t true. He found himself falling for Dream a long time ago. He was already so far gone for him; hearing him laugh had merely made him fall further, and he hadn’t known such a thing was possible.)

Today, Dream appeared in his apartment—only, this time, he did so before Hob was about to sleep.

Which…wasn’t a problem. Not at all. Sleep didn’t matter, not when Dream was there. He would gladly drop anything and everything, if Dream wanted him to. If his friend wanted his time and his energy. All of it was his anyway; he needed only to ask.

(And he did ask, these days. Indirectly, naturally—Matthew somehow gained the job of messenger raven, and would often fly to the Waking world for the sole purpose of seeing Hob and delivering a message.

The message was usually short. A quick, Boss asks if you’re free today?, and Hob would reply, Let him know I am before quickly cancelling his plans.

Dream still didn’t ask for what he needed. But he still asked, in a round-about Dream kind of way, and Hob? Hob was proud of him. He remembered all too easily the pain on his face when he thought he burdened Hob with his affections; he could only imagine what it took for his friend to be able to ask whether he was busy or not, after that.)

“Dream,” he said, blinking at the being who materialised at the foot of his bed. To his credit, his heart didn’t so much as stutter, proof that he was used to Dream simply appearing out of nowhere. Proof that they truly were friends, now, after so many centuries of him wanting exactly that.

(They were friends. He couldn’t quite believe it, sometimes. They were friends, and Dream didn’t shy away from that title when Hob gave it to him. If anything, he seemed proud of it, like the title of ‘friend’ was an honour.)

(It certainly was for Hob, at least, so he understood that.)

Dream stared at him for a moment, blinking slowly, cat-like. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Hob underneath his duvet, which—seemed fair. He still didn’t have much of a clue what Dream was, for it didn’t matter, but he knew now that it had to do with a place called the Dreaming—his realm, which certainly gave Hob a bit of an existential crisis the first time he heard that—and sleep. Perhaps he had a second sense for when people were about to sleep. It wouldn’t be the strangest thing Hob had seen him do.

”Hob,” he said, then frowned. Some of that old hesitance kept him from saying much else for a moment, but he eventually asked, “I did not think…Is this a bad time?”

Progress, Hob thought, and shot a grin in his friend’s direction. Dream was making progress, small and still so, so important, and he was simply glad to be a part of it. “Not at all,” he promised, because this was Dream. Dream, who owned his heart entirely by this point, who Hob would gladly dedicate every waking moment of his days to if he could. If his friend would appreciate that, if he would even want that.

That hesitance held him in place for a second longer, but that was all. His floor-length, high-collared coat disappeared, shadow replacing the impossibly soft material of it before vanishing entirely, leaving Dream in a long-sleeved top (black, of course) that felt so casual on him.

(He’d seen Dream without his coat many times before, now. Another testament to the fact that Dream felt comfortable—safe, even—with him. It still startled him, though, and it never failed to make warmth bloom behind his ribs. This—this vulnerability, his desire to abandon armour when with Hob—was another display of trust, and Hob wouldn’t get over that any time soon.

Dream trusted him. It was a fragile thing, that trust, not at all suited for Hob’s bloodied and calloused hands. He’d had many years to practise gentleness, though, and he used it with this; with Dream’s trust, a gift offered so painstakingly.)

And then Dream was moving, climbing onto the bed and tucking himself into Hob’s side. One half of his body ended up entirely on top of Hob’s, his face buried into the crook of his neck, and let out a soft, contented sigh.

It tickled the skin of his neck a little, but Hob hardly cared. How could he, when he turned his head to the side and found himself face to face with Dream’s feather-soft hair, when Dream’s arm came to wrap around his waist?

He chuckled softly. His heart felt so full, all of a sudden, his fondness for this strange and lovely creature lay on top of him almost overwhelming. There wasn’t enough room behind his rib cage for it all, for the adoration pouring from his heart in waves. He brushed his fingers through Dream’s feather-soft hair, the smile on his face growing wider as his friend burrowed further into him, and, without thinking, he said gently, “Yeah, dove, I love you too. And I missed you dearly.”

Missed you dearly wasn’t quite enough. It didn’t explain the way he missed Dream like an ache, in those two weeks he was off doing whatever the ruler of an entire realm did. But it was true enough, so he let the words hang in the air. Dream deserved to know he was missed when he wasn’t around; deserved to know Hob thought about him, even in the louder moments where his head was so busy. Missed you dearly didn’t quite fit, but it said enough.

It was only when Dream’s head snapped up in a movement faster than anything Hob had seen from him before, ocean eyes almost comically wide and lips parted slightly, that Hob realised what he said.

I love you too. It wasn’t a lie. He didn’t think he was capable of that, even subconsciously, when it came to Dream. Always, his heart has been laid bare before him, every little thing it contained inside free for his viewing. Hob made little attempt to keep it hidden. His fondness, his adoration, always slipped into his voice unbidden. Experience told him every attempt to mask it would fall short; there was simply too much to keep it trapped behind his ribs. It was always his friend’s choice whether or not he took it at face value or not.

He did love Dream. Loved him like he loved life; endlessly, with more depth than he thought himself capable of putting into words. Though he wasn’t much of a poet, he would try, if Dream asked that of him. He would do much for his dearest friend, his Stranger, if only he asked.

”Love me,” Dream murmured softly. He sounded almost disbelieving, as though he hadn’t thought of himself as something able to be loved. That thought rang too true for Hob’s comfort; he had to stop himself from holding Dream closer, unwilling to make him uncomfortable in an attempt to offer comfort. “You have. Said this before.”

Not in quite so many words, Hob thought, but yes. He had. Never apologise for wanting to be loved, he told Dream, and that was another admittance in and of itself, wasn’t it? It was an I love you, and I’m happy to do so, and a request; Let me love you, I want, it was always yours anyway.

Fear coiled in his stomach, a poison almost potent enough to stop him from answering entirely. But he met Dream’s gaze and saw the impression of new stars within them; he met his eyes and saw a fragile kind of hope. Fear or not, his dearest friend deserved to know he was loved.

“Yes,” he answered gently. Perhaps he’d run, now, leave Hob as he had in 1889. That, Hob thought, would be alright. It’d hurt, but it’d be alright. Dream would come back to him, just as he had once every month before, and now every fortnight. That knowledge was just enough to make the worst of that fear melt away, and to loosen his tongue. “I love you dearly. With everything I am. Doesn’t have to change anything if you don’t want it to—I don’t want anything from you that you aren’t willing to give, I promise you that.”

A furrow appeared between his friend’s brow. That hope didn’t leave his eyes, even despite the confusion that joined it. “Why would you tell me this, then, if you did not want reciprocation from me?”

Hob ached, suddenly, at the confusion in Dream’s voice. Had nobody loved him without expectation before? Had nobody loved him simply for the sake of loving him, because they couldn’t do anything else? “Let me rephrase,” he said gently, and he sat up. Dream frowned further at being disturbed, though said frown disappeared fast enough when Hob cupped his face. “I would kill to have you feel the same for me. It would be so many centuries of pining resolved in a mere moment; I would love for nothing more than you to love me back. But I don’t expect you to. I didn’t tell you I love you expecting you to say the same. I told you I love you simply because you deserve to hear it; nothing more, nothing less.”

Silence hung heavy between them for a moment, in which Dream simply stared at him without moving a muscle at all and Hob grew increasingly conscious about the fact that he was still very much holding Dream’s face in his hands.

He was about ready to let go, no doubt followed by an awkward apology, but Dream said slowly, “You are. A strange creature, Hob Gadling. I continuously find myself baffled by you.”

Quietly, Hob laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment then, love.” His hands fell from Dream’s face, only for his friend to catch them by his wrists.

”And,” Dream continued, slow and stilted, and Hob froze. Dream’s skin against his, not quite a normal body temperature, was different when initiated by Dream himself. It meant more, somehow. “And. You are not alone. In your feelings.”

Hob was fairly sure his heart stopped in his chest at that. Just for a moment. In his defence, this moment did feel particularly heart stopping. Important enough to fling his own world off its axis.

When he found himself capable of thought again, he asked, barely able to contain the joy pouring from his heart in waves, “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Dream?”

”I am saying,” he said heavily, severely, like this moment was as important to him as it was to Hob, “that I adore you, Hob Gadling. That you are a comfort I did not expect to find. That your arms are a place of safety, that I find comfort in your presence, that you are a fresh breath of air after so long spent underwater. I am saying that your continued friendship is an honour, one I am eternally grateful for; I am saying that you baffle me entirely, your joy for life and your willingness to love me, and that love is too small a term to label the depths of my feelings towards you, but it is enough for now.”

Hob stared at him, wide-eyed. His heart spilled over, everything it contained too much, and all of it Dream’s. All of it, shared by Dream, too. “Christ, love,” he said, his voice light with elation. A sob caught in his chest as his hand, still held by the wrist in Dream’s grasp, came up to play with the raven hair at the nape of his friend’s neck, as he pulled Dream into a kiss.

It was gentle. Barely a hint of pressure at all, for fear he’d perhaps misunderstood. But Dream made a noise against his lips, surprised yet pleased, and kisses back eagerly, an answer to a question Hob didn’t realise he’d asked.

Eventually, though everything in him screamed against it, too lost in the sensation of Dream’s mouth against his own and Dream’s hands clutching at the thin top he wore for bed, he pulled back for breath. Dream gazed at him, eyes so dark they were almost black. Hob could see the stars so clearly, now, and found himself breathless for another reason entirely.

Awed, he said, ”You’re beautiful.” His thumb stroked the skin underneath Dream’s eye, reverent and worshipful, and Dream practically preened.

At some point, he lay back down, taking his friend—Dream, his Stranger, who he had loved for centuries and who loved him in return—with him. He tucked himself against Hob’s side, knee wedges between Hob’s legs and an arm thrown over his waist. The duvet was pulled over up to both their shoulders, and Hob let himself kiss the crown of his head.

He needed to sleep. He was tired, his head a little foggy. But elation kept his chest light, and there was enough joy in his veins to last a lifetime. They’d have to talk tomorrow, Hob knew that, but they’d figure that out.

For now, this—this was enough. More than enough.

”I love you,” he said again. His eyes slipped shut.

Sleep would come difficult, with the way his heart felt so full, but that was alright. A small price to pay for the way Dream shifted against him before pressing feather-soft lips against his cheek, whispering, “And I you, beloved,” before settling back in place again.

Hob slept eventually. And when he did, he dreamt of Dream.

#the sandman #dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream/hob #the sandman netflix #eris writes things #my fic #dreamling fic

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goldustwomun · 2 years

Text

soul meets body (b.b.)

BASED ON THIS REQUEST...

pairing: bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x gf!reader

summary: you begin to question whether there’s something wrong with you when bradley refuses to touch you, little did you know you’d got it all wrong.

warning: smut, obviously; masturbation, fingering, lots of sweethearts, some jokes; it wouldn’t be my writing if there wasn’t angst so prepare yourself; but a whole lot of fluff & praise to top it all off <3

wc: 3.6k+

note: this is based off of the above request!! fair warning, this is unedited, but it’s my first ACTUAL attempt at smut so be kind xx i literally intended for this to be a short blurb but it ended up being a monster of a oneshot so please enjoy & reblogs are much appreciated :))

update: finally edited :)

REQUESTS ARE OPEN. Check my rules before hand!

“Where are you going?”

“Somewhere! Anywhere!” you hurtled back, rifling through your closet for a pair of trousers or sweatpants or– fuck, anything that you could wear to walk out of the door in a more decent state than you currently were, legs on display in the baby tee and frilly panties you had on.

You’d hoped the (admittedly scandalous) look would have tempted him, even a little bit, to place his hands on you. Even if it didn’t lead anywhere and all you did was kiss for a bit – you needed something, anything, and it was driving you crazy.

He’d been avoiding you like a plague anytime you tried to initiate something, whenever your hand crept a little too high on his thigh to be deemed appropriate, or you shuffled back into him when you were in bed together so your hips were pressed close. But he always came up with an excuse – either tired or busy or just not feeling it.

So you were done – done humiliating yourself in front of the one person you used to feel the most comfortable with.

“Sweetheart, stop that,” he chided, voice soft and pleading. He stood by your side, watching as you shoved your foot into the wrong pant hole. Bradley couldn’t help but laugh, hiding behind his fist as you stumbled in between your angry movements, but your hard glare shut him up quick enough as he mumbled a stuttered apology.

“Will you tell me why you’re angry? What did I do?” he asked, and you pointedly ignored him, instead choosing to flip him off as you finally buttoned your jeans and turned towards his room door. You hated how he spoke to you, like you were a little child pouting at the cookie jar.

You’d been spending the weekend at his place like you had countless times before, already having moved some of your necessities into his cupboards and by his sink. There were glimpses of your relationship all over his apartment, and all it did was make you want to rage harder every time you stumbled across them.

“Come on, sweets, please,” he begged once more before sighing defeatedly and grabbing your arms so you’d have no choice but to look at him, explain what it was that had caused such a sudden outburst.

You finally met his stare, taking in his dishevelled state – hair pointing in every direction and unzipped pants that you’d tried to get down minutes earlier. The two of you were curled up on his bed, watching a film like you always did on a Sunday night. Only, Bradley was highly invested in Maria’s singing of “Do, a deer, a female deer” to the Von Trapp children (you had put on ‘The Sound of Music’), but your mind had travelled elsewhere.

You’d let the hand that was resting on his clothed stomach wander, just a little lower as you traced lazy circles into the soft material of his t-shirt. You thought you were being at least minutely discreet as you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, mouthed kisses into the sensitive skin there. He’d squeezed your barely-covered hip in admonishment, but it only motivated you to try harder.

Slipping your hand lower, you unzipped his pants, propping yourself up onto your elbow as you breathed, all sultry and hot, into his ear, “Bradley, please, I want you.” You’d thought it was quite good, had read and watched enough to know it was what guys liked to hear. But rather than throw you down on the bed and take you like you wanted, he’d clammed up instead, sputtering on about how he “didn’t think that was a good idea.”

So here you were, caged in by his long limbs and silently fuming. “What did I do?” he repeated. There was a hardness in his voice that told you he wasn’t in the mood for excuses this time. You’d just have to embarrass yourself a little more.

“Is there something wrong with me?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. If you said it any louder, you were certain you’d erupt into mortified flames.

“What?” He was looking at you funny, like you’d grown a head or two in the time it took for you to speak.

“I said, is there something wrong with me?” You were more annoyed than upset now, hating that you had to repeat such ugly thoughts of yours.

“No! God, no. Why would you even think that?” His hands moved to hold your face, rubbing soothing circles into the soft skin of your cheeks.

“Because you won’t touch me!” you fired back, hating how he’d easily smothered the fire burning inside of you with such little effort. When it came to him, you had no control over yourself. You were like pliant putty, melting in his palms the moment he got close. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’ve been trying to get you to fuck me for weeks, and– and– you just won’t! It’s like I’m diseased or something, Bradley, and I swear I’m fucking not!”

You were breathing hard, all furrowed brows and pouting mouth. He didn’t say anything in defense of himself and his stupid, infuriating actions, so you continued. “So if I’m not diseased, there must be something else wrong with me, and I’d really like you to explain because it’s getting to be fucking exhausting, and humiliating, considering how much I’ve thrown myself at you!”

He was shaking his head at you and you were struck by the urge to slap the crooked smile off of his perfect face. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You’re fucking beautiful, way out of my league, even. I mean, look at you,” he cooed, placing a sweet kiss on your lips. You were so, utterly, completely tense by then that you felt the aftershock of his lips zap right between your thighs.

You were fucked.

Except, not really.

“So then why won’t you–”

“Because you’ve never had sex before, and I wanted it to be special. I wanted it to be as close to perfect as I could get because you deserve it.” Now it was his turn to flush red out of embarrassment, like he couldn’t believe he’d just admitted his scheme to you.

“I– What?”

“I had it all planned out. Our anniversary is coming up soon, and I have some time off then, so I was going to make dinner, put on a movie, dim the lights a little – speaking of, I was going to install a light dimmer! Looked up how to and everything,” he vented. “I wanted– I want your first time to be something worth remembering.”

You grinned up at him, rising to the tips of your toes as your arms wrapped around his neck to bring the two of you closer. You kissed him long and slow as his own hands dropped to grip your waist. When you broke apart, finally needing air before one or the both of you passed out, you laughed at the confused look on his face.

It wasn’t every day that you had Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw at a loss for words.

“So… you’re not mad?” he offered, pecking your cheek.

“Me? Mad? Of course I still am, but I get it,” you replied, unwinding one of your hands to rest on his chest. “But listen to me carefully, Bradley, because I’m only going to say this once.” He nodded, the picture of concentrated seriousness. “I don’t need dinner, a movie, or dimmed lights. I don’t need something special or pre-planned or whatever you deem to be perfect for me.

All I need is you. I’ll only ever need and want you,” you spoke the words against his lips, fingers already trailing down his front once more to tug at the loose waistband of his unzipped jeans.

“Okay,” he breathed. “Okay, sweetheart, I can do that for you.” He hurtled into action as he kissed you hard and fast, shuffling forward until the back of your legs hit the bed. His hands were in your hair, his tongue exploring your mouth, and you couldn’t help but curl your toes every time he moaned into you, feeling the vibrations rocket through your body.

Bradley shoved you back until you fell against his covers. You laughed at how rushed his movements were, like if he didn’t feel your skin against his soon, he’d collapse in a whimpering heap.

“I fucking love you, you know that right?” He undid the buttons of the obnoxious Hawaiian-printed shirt he had on, throwing it behind your head. He crawled onto his knees, caging you in with his arms and rock-solid body as he left sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collarbones.

You were already shaking with anticipation. And it wasn’t like you hadn’t gone this far with him – you were a virgin, not virginal. But something about the way he kissed you, touched you, the visceral electric charge in the air – it felt different, and it felt fucking amazing.

“Want these off you,” you mumbled against his lips, pushing his jeans as far down his hips as you could reach. He groaned in agreement, the two of you tearing a part so he could kick them off whilst you tugged your t-shirt off, nipples perking at the cool air.

Bradley’s eyes widened at the sight before him: stretched out in front of him, you lay waiting, in nothing but your panties with miles of skin on display for him to bite, kiss, suck.

He was in heaven, and he wanted to take you there, as well.

Sure, he was staring at you, just about devouring you by sight alone, but you couldn’t get enough of him either, had already reached down between you to slip your fingers under your panties, stroke, slow and deep, against your clit. It took a moment for Bradley’s brain to catch up as he watched you, mouth hung open – either in shock or amazement, you couldn’t quite tell.

“Fuck. That’s it, that’s my girl,” he praised, swiping your hair out of your face as he leaned forward to get a better look at your fingers working against yourself. You were moaning loud, now, crying out his name like a prayer. “Get yourself nice and wet, and I’ll see what I can do about that ache between your legs,” he promised with a short kiss on your lips.

You nodded, stupidly enthusiastic, tugging your underwear down to be tossed aside so that you were bare underneath him. He swore under his breath, ducking his head down to nip at the skin around your nipples before tugging it into his mouth. He sucked and sucked and sucked and – fuck, you could come like this.

“You gonna come, sweetheart? I haven’t even touched you yet, not really.” His voice was deliciously taunting and you did your best to shoot him your meanest glare, but it was hard considering how much you were shaking, hand moving faster and faster as your slick dripped down your trembling thighs.

“Fuck– Fuck– Fuck,” you whimpered, eyes squeezed shut. Your unoccupied hand grabbed onto Bradley’s bicep, nails digging crescents into his skin – you wanted to see constellations all across his body by the time the two of you were done.

And you were there, almost. Teetering at the pinnacle of a precipice that you knew would be worth it once you were on the other side, but your mind was going numb and your wrist was starting to get tired, so you pouted up at the fixated man above you, might have begged in between your mindless moans.

The next thing you knew was your hand had been nudged to the side, and Bradleys fingers slipped between your folds, collecting the juices there before fucking them back inside you. You were going to combust, you were sure of it. Fuck constellations on his skin because you were already seeing them against your eyelids as your fingers struggled to remain still, your hips bucking off his mattress the moment his thumb joined in on the fun, pressing against the tight bundle of nerves you could feel throbbing alongside your heartbeat.

You came on his fingers in no time, the two of you panting, hot breaths mingling between you. Bradley leaned down, nipped at your bottom lip as your mouth was left open, too exhausted to even think. He held the glistening tips of his fingers, drenched in your slick, up to your face. Your eyes opened in time to watch him slip them into his mouth, groaning at the heady taste of you, you, you.

“I love you,” you croaked, surging forward to melt against him as you licked into his mouth, tasting all of yourself on his tongue.

“Fuck, that was hot.” His voice was rough like gravel and it grated against your skin in a way you’d never experienced before. You squirmed beneath him, snapping the waistband of his briefs against his hip bone.

“Off,” you commanded, determined to not let the momentum wane. He raised his brow at you, never having heard you so defiant, especially not when the two of you were in bed. You leaned up on the palm of your hand, the other tilting his head to the side as you sucked bruises into his chest, into his collarbone, up his neck. “Please,” you added sweetly, not stopping your attack on his skin.

“Jesus fucking christ– I’ll take them off but you’ll have to stop, sweets,” he grumbled, not entirely wanting you to stop but knowing it was only going to get better. You relented, toppling back with a huff as he stood up and off the bed, pushing his briefs down.

Your gaze went straight to his cock. You could see where the precum was shining against the purple tip, traced your stare across the throbbing vein that ran down its side, mouth watered at the tufts of neat hair at the base. You were screwed.

“That is the plan,” he pointed out, a cheeky grin plastered to his face. You must have said out loud and you retaliated with a kick to his exposed chin. He caught your ankle before you could make contact, clicking his tongue at your inability to sit still. “I won’t fuck you if you don’t play nice,” he scolded, tone unforgiving as he dropped your ankle and instead, reached into his bedside drawer to pull out a condom.

He looked you in the eye as he ripped the packet open, rolling it down his prick in smooth and precise movements. Like before, you really think you could come just watching him. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and this wasn’t the first time you found yourself thanking whatever higher power there was out there for letting you be this damn lucky.

Bradley placed his knee onto the bed, assessing the situation. His cock bobbed, you could tell it was painful from the way his hands were balled in fists and how deep his breathing was, like he was trying to force his body to slow down, to relax – all for you.

“I think–” he cleared his throat, his nerves seeping into his words. “I think you should be on top. You’ll have more control, can stop when you want– go at your own pace,” he stated decisively before joining you on the bed. He laid back against the headboard, holding his hand out so you could slip your legs on either side of his waist.

You didn’t sit down, not completely. “You’re sure about this?” you asked. His mouth quirked upwards as he tugged you closer, your chest falling against his. You could feel his heart hammering through his chest, through your own.

“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” he shot back, palms smoothing idly up and down your hips.

“You know what I mean. We’re a partnership, you and I. I’m sure, just need to know you are as well.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but thought better of it. Instead, he nodded, met your mouth with his. “Whenever you’re ready, I’m yours.”

Your hands were trembling when you reached for his aching cock, sitting up on your knees, hands wrapped around the base as you angled it to your opening. You were still slick from your fingers, from Bradley’s as well, and fuck were you ready. Ready to be so utterly connected to the one person you loved, the one person who understood you, probably better than you did yourself.

He helped you, slipping his own hand around yours as you sank down slowly. You’d barely gotten past the tip before you stopped, eyes squeezed shut, now from the pain rather than pleasure. “I know, sweetheart, I know. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he soothed, placing barely-there kisses against your shoulder as you trembled in his arms.

“Holy sh–shit,” you groaned, not expecting the shooting pain. You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, simply holding each other. You could imagine how hard, literally, it must have been for Bradley, but he never let even a flicker of frustration cross his face. He was entirely steady, unwaveringly there for you.

You shifted on your knees, sliding an inch or two down, and Bradley halted your movement with a tight grip on your waist. “You sure you’re good. I don’t want you to get hurt.” He was searching your face for anything, everything – any sign of discomfort or regret, even if it was slight.

“It’s– fuck– it’s fine. It hurts a little less, let’s just try,” you managed to whisper. You took the rest of him, hiding your face in his neck as you did so, as the pain tore through you from the inside out. You knew it was going to hurt but, fucking hell, they’d never mentioned this in health class. You’d had things up there, toys, your fingers, Bradley’s fingers, but this was completely foreign to you.

Throughout it all, Bradley held you close. His words and resolute presence never wavering. And eventually, after what could have been seconds, minutes, hours – you weren’t sure, the pain lessened enough for it to almost become pleasurable. You tested the waters, pulling your hips back, then forward.

The pained groan that fell past Bradley’s hips told you all you needed to know – even if it wasn’t entirely good for you, you’d do it again if only to hear him make that noise again. “Are you okay?” you mocked, rocking your hips, again, and again, and again. He couldn’t speak, mouths forming words that never made it past his lips. His head fell back, hitting the wooden frame as his blunt nails dug into the skin of your hips, of your ass, of whatever skin he could grab onto as you rode him.

“You’re going to– fuck– be the death of me, I– shit! – swear it,” he panted, capturing your lips in his. You continued your teasing movements for a while, relishing in the way he held you tighter, moaned louder, gaze darting across your sweat-covered body.

“And if I did this?” you questioned, voice laced with innocent, but your actions did little to reflect that. You gripped his shoulders, raising up until his tip was barely still inside you, before sitting down completely. You gasped at that, cunt clenching around him as the first sparks of ecstasy shot through you. “Oh–”

Bradley grinned that all-consuming smile of his, bent his knees and lifted you up before bucking his hips up, into you. Your mouth fell open at the sight, couldn’t stop yourself from staring at how his cock slipped in and out of you. “You look fucking beautiful, sitting on my cock like that,” he professed, his own gaze locked at where he pounded into you. “And you’re taking me so well– knew you would.”

“F-fuck, Bradley. I can’t– fuck! It’s too much, too much.” Your words were unintelligible as that familiar rush of heat consumed you. You could feel it spreading to the tips of your fingers, to your toes, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“That’s alright, sweetheart. You’ve done so well, just let go, that’s it,” he coaxed, fingers returning to your drenched clit as his hips continued their incessant hammering, coupled with the steady strokes of his fingers.

You quivered around him, mumbled thank-yous caught in your throat as your body arched, then collapsed into him. “I love you, sweetheart. Fuck– love you so much.” He kissed his confession into your skin, melting back into the pillow as he clutched you as close as humanly possible.

“What about you?” You lifted your head, vision still swirling from your second orgasm. “You didn’t finish.”

“That’s okay, I’m alright,” he assured, rolling over so that he’d slip out of you. “You’re stuck with me sweets, so we have ages for you to make it up to me.”

Bradley left a comforting kiss on your hip bone, eyes meeting yours as he did so, before he walked over to the bin to peel the glistening condom from off of him. It took him a while to find his briefs, but he eventually slid them on, before venturing into his bathroom.

You were entirely too spent to even pay attention to whatever he was doing, but soon enough, he returned with a wet towel and positioned himself at your waist.

“Just gonna clean you up, then we can sleep some more, sound good?” he offered, carefully wiping at the inside of your thighs and up your slit. He tossed the towel to a distant corner in his room before sliding under the covers, tucking you into his side.

He sighed, sleepy and content. “So, was I any good?” he prodded, smirking down at you.

You scoffed at his easy arrogance, rolling your eyes. “You know you were, Rooster. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

“Yes ma’am,” he fired back, but kissed the side of your head and relaxed into you, into your warmth.

He wasn’t wrong. You made it up to him the next morning, and the one after that, and the other after that…

Please reblog if you liked what you read :)

#bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw smut #rooster bradshaw #rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw smut #top gun: maverick #top gun maverick #top gun smut #rooster x reader #rooster smut #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw smut #top gun: maverick one shot #top gun one shot #top gun maverick one shot #soul meets body

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

Text

Familiar

Summary: Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster's type.

Word Count: 8.2k

Warnings: reference to nonconsensual sex, canon typical violence

A/N: I've had this one done for a couple of weeks, but things have been very busy and so I just finally got around to doing a reread/edit of it. I hope everyone enjoys it!

This one includes the writing prompt "character A flipping positions and shoving B against a wall 'now this seems more familiar doesn’t it?'"

I don't remember where I found this. I have a list of prompts I saved, but didn't include who posted them, so if you happen to know where this came from, let me know and I'll give credit to that person.

Also, I've had someone ask me to be tagged in new stories I post. I am happy to do this, so if anyone else is interested in being tagged, let me know!

Masterlist

I met the Winchesters for the first time five years ago when I was 22. I was in college and had just moved to a new dorm building that turned out to be haunted by a ghost. I had been the next intended target when Dean and his dad stepped in and saved me. That was the last time I would see either of them for a long time, but I never forgot the faces of the people who had saved my life.

After that experience, I was obsessed with the supernatural. Dean and I had talked a little bit before they left town, and he told me about how he and his dad traveled the country killing monsters. I wanted to do that too. I wanted to be able to save people’s lives the way they had saved mine.

So a couple months later I dropped out of school and started getting ready to hunt. I signed up for a gym membership and started going everyday as well as taking boxing and Krav Maga lessons. My life had given very little opportunity for me to build muscle or learn to fight. But I wasn’t stupid enough to go into a fight with a supernaturally strong creature completely unprepared.

I gave myself a year to get in shape and learn to defend myself. During this time, I put every spare minute I had into research. I looked into what kinds of monsters were out there, how to kill them, which ones were most common. While doing all this research, I ran into a man named Bobby Singer. He had all kinds of helpful information and taught me how to track them down. I started the process of purchasing weapons I would need and also saving up money.

Once I felt ready, I set off on my first hunt. The overwhelming satisfaction I felt at saving a person from the ghost that had been haunting them was too much to ignore. I knew without a doubt now that this is what I should be doing with my life. So I went on another hunt. And another.

Things were a little rough going at first and I got more injuries than I cared to admit – fighting a trained professional in a controlled environment wasn’t the same as going up against an angry monster – but my fighting skills improved and things started going smoother soon enough. I didn’t regret my choices.

I ran into Dean a little over a year later. I was looking into what I suspected to be a witch and had stopped for lunch at a local burger joint when I saw him. I recognized him immediately and went to talk to him. It took a little bit for him to remember me, but he did. When he asked what I was doing so far from home, I told him what I’d been up to since the day he saved my life. He seemed surprised and impressed. Apparently the people he saved didn’t often take up hunting afterwards.

When I asked after his dad, he told me that they were starting to work separate cases on occasion. They still hunted together too, but not as often.

Since we were both in town for the same reason, we agreed to work the case together. It was difficult at times, learning to rely on another person and factor their thoughts and opinions into what we were doing. I’d never hunted with someone else before. In other ways, though, it was so much easier. I decided I kind of liked having a partner. Dean and I worked well together.

He must have thought so too, because the day after we finished that hunt, he asked if I wanted to come with him to look into a string of suspicious murders a couple states over. I’d been hunting with him – and occasionally his dad – ever since.

About nine months into our new arrangement, his dad went missing and so we picked up his brother Sam from school to help find him. Adding him to the mix had been another adjustment. That was two years ago now though, and we’d all found an easy rhythm together.

“We should go check this out,” Dean said, sliding the newspaper he’d been looking at across the table to Sam and pointing at one of the articles.

We were at a diner waiting for our breakfast to be brought out. Sam scanned the article.

“I don’t know, Dean,” Sam said, passing the newspaper to me when I motioned for it. I skimmed the article Dean had found.

“Come on, Sam. Three murder suicides in under two weeks. That’s weird,” Dean insisted.

“It is weird. I just don’t see how it’s our kind of weird,” Sam answered.

“Y/N? What do you think? You agree with me, don’t you?” Dean asked, confident I’d back him up. We typically saw things pretty eye to eye. Not always though.

“Well, actually I agree with Sam. There’s nothing here that really makes it sound like our kind of thing. But,” I continued, saying the word a little louder to stop Dean’s protest. “It’s only a few hours away and we have nothing else to do right now. So we might as well go check it out.”

“Alright, fine,” Sam agreed, sighing at the triumphant look on Dean’s face. “But I really think we’re wasting our time.”

“Right. Because we’ve got much more important, productive things going on here,” Dean said sarcastically.

“It’s never a waste of time,” I said. “Even if it ends up being nothing, making sure people aren’t being killed by something supernatural isn’t a waste. What if we decide it’s not worth checking out and it turns out it is our kind of thing? Then those deaths would be on us.”

“Ok, yes, you’re right. I already said we could go check it out,” Sam said.

“Well thanks for the permission, Sammy. I really don’t think we could’ve moved forward without it,” Dean snarked.

“Bite me,” Sam answered.

“Alright, cut it out you two,” I scolded.

The waiter brought our food out and we spent the meal trying to come up with ideas of what we could be dealing with. We didn’t come up with much since we had so little information to go off of. Dean paid our bill and we were just heading out the door when something occurred to me.

“Oh! What if it’s a siren?” I suggested.

“A siren? From Greek mythology? Like in The Odyssey?” Dean asked.

“What?” Sam looked at his brother in surprise.

“What?” Dean asked, a little smug and a little offended.

“What do you know about sirens?” Sam asked me, moving past his shock at Dean’s knowledge.

“Not much,” I admitted. We reached the car and I climbed into my usual spot behind Sam. “All the vics have been couples though, right?” I asked.

“Yeah,” Dean confirmed, turning in his seat to face me. “Is that important?”

“All I really know about sirens is that once they infect you they convince you to kill someone you love. The only siren case I’ve heard of had several husbands killing their wives before it was stopped. So maybe in this case once the men realize what they’ve done, they kill themselves.”

“Seems like the best theory we’ve come up with,” Dean said. He backed the Impala out of the parking spot and headed out of town towards the highway.

“Let’s get there and do some digging around before we settle on a theory,” Sam cautioned. “But say you’re right. How do we kill it?”

“I don’t know. I’ve already given you the extent of my knowledge on the subject.”

“Okay. Well at least we have a starting point. We can look into it more if that still seems like the most likely scenario after we’ve investigated things a little bit,” Sam said.

Apparently deeming the conversation finished, Dean turned up the music. I leaned my head against the window and watched the road blurring by.

~~~~~

The bar we were at was crowded, the music was loud, and the guy I was talking to was cute. Not stop and stare cute, but cute enough that when he came over to where I was standing at the bar and started flirting, I flirted back.

“So how long are you in town for?” Cute guy asked. I vaguely noted Dean in my peripheral vision, making his way to the bar. If I’d been paying attention, I would have noticed how irritated he looked. But I was trying not to notice him. He and I were just friends and would never be more. I’d accepted that. It meant I couldn’t let myself be distracted by him when there was a guy standing right in front of me who was interested.

“Don’t know yet,” I answered, giving him my best flirty smile. “I’m definitely here for the night though.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Dean interrupted. “Come on Y/N. Sam’s waiting for us.”

“Woah, hey, come on man,” cute guy protested. “You can’t just come in here and force her to leave. We were in the middle of a conversation.”

“You were, were you? Sorry pal, but we’ve got important things to do. Go find someone else to bother.” Dean grabbed my arm and pulled me with him, away from the bar and towards the exit.

“Dean!” I hissed as I was forced to follow along behind him. “What is your problem?” I asked when we made it outside.

“What’s my problem?” Dean echoed, letting go of my arm and turning to face me. “What’s your problem? You know what we’re after here. What made you think it was a good idea to offer to go home with some random guy who for all we know could be the siren?”

I scoffed and started to walk towards the car, but Dean grabbed me again and pushed me up against the building. He stepped in close and put an arm on either side of my head, effectively caging me in.

“What are you doing?” I asked. It didn’t sound quite as irritated as I wanted it to. His close proximity mixed with the few drinks I’d downed had me too overwhelmed to hold on to my anger.

“Next time you’re wanting to scratch an itch in the middle of a case where the monster we’re after seduces people into murder, just save us the trouble and come to me instead,” he instructed. Then before I knew what was happening, he leaned in and kissed me.

I gasped in surprise and he used the opportunity to lick into my mouth. Finally catching up to what was happening, I wrapped my arms around his neck, threading my fingers through his hair and eagerly kissing him back. I never could have predicted this, but I was so thrilled it was happening.

He made his way to my neck. He kissed a couple of different spots before finding a spot he liked and starting to suck and nip-

I woke up with a jolt and a gasp. I quickly took in my surroundings and realized I’d fallen asleep in the back of the Impala.

��You ok?” Dean asked, turning in his seat to look at me. I realized we were parked outside a motel. The engine turning off must have been what woke me. I briefly met his eyes and was immediately bombarded with the images from my dream.

“Yeah,” I told him. I managed to successfully fight the blush that tried to rise in the presence of the very man I’d just been dreaming about. It wasn’t the first time I’d had this sort of dream about the older Winchester. I doubted it would be the last.

Dean went inside to get us a room. We unloaded our bags and made a plan. We decided the boys would drop me off at the police station to talk to the sheriff while they went to question the medical examiner. We would meet at a diner a few blocks away from the police station when we were done.

“What’s the connection between all of these people?” I asked Sheriff Jones once I’d introduced myself and explained why I was there.

“Connection?” He asked.

“Yeah. This many murder suicides in this short of a time, there’s something going on here. Maybe you’re wrong about the suicide part and it’s just flat out murder. Maybe it’s some sort of messed up pact these people made. There has to be something that connects them though. So what is it?”

“As far as we can tell, there is no connection between any of them. Sometimes these things just happen,” he said.

“How long have you been sheriff?” I asked. He was starting to get up in age, probably in his mid to late 50s at a guess. I assumed he’d been a police officer for a long time.

“Almost 20 years,” he informed me proudly.

“And in those 20 years, how many times have you seen something like this? Three different couples killing each other and themselves. One after another.”

“Well… never,” he admitted.

“Right. So what’s the connection? Graduated from the same high school? Go to the same gym? In a bowling league together? There has to be something that connects them other than them all being married.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” Jones corrected.

“I was told they were,” I said.

“The last couple wasn’t. They were roommates, but as far as I’m aware, that’s as far as the relationship went.”

Damn. Did this throw a wrench in my siren theory? Not necessarily. Just because they weren’t together doesn’t mean one of them wasn’t secretly in love with the other. Or maybe they were really close and loved each other in a non romantic way.

“Great. I’m gonna need a list of close family and friends of all the victims,” I requested.

“What for?” He asked.

“To find the connection. You figure out the pattern, you have a chance of stopping it from happening again,” I said frustratedly. How were these idiots not investigating this further? Did they really believe it was just all a coincidence?

Jones gave me a list of names and I left. I scanned the list on my walk to the diner, trying to figure out where to start and how long it might take to talk to these people. I rounded a corner and ran into an extremely attractive man.

“Sorry!” I apologized as he nearly spilled the coffee he was carrying.

“No worries,” he said, flashing a charming smile. “No harm done.”

Had I not spent every day of the past three years sharing close quarters with the most attractive man I’d ever seen in my life, I might have been caught off guard and turned into a mumbling mess. But my time with Dean mixed with the quick thinking and lying that was sometimes necessary for hunting meant I was able to keep it together.

“Still. I should have been watching where I was going.”

“Well in that case, I was just on my way to get some lunch. How about you make it up to me by coming with?” He offered. It only took me a few seconds of consideration to make a decision.

“Sorry, but I’m busy. I’m on my way to meet a couple of colleagues for a kind of work lunch,” I told him.

“Ah. Well, maybe next time,” he smiled.

“Maybe,” I agreed, knowing there wouldn’t be a next time. I sighed as I continued my walk to the diner. He was awfully good looking. Under different circumstances, I probably would have taken him up on his offer.

I walked the last couple of blocks and noted that the familiar black car wasn’t in the parking lot. I went in, found an open table that would fit all three of us, and sat down. I had to wait about ten minutes before Sam and Dean walked in.

“Hey. What did you find out?” I asked once they were seated.

“Not much. There wasn’t anything unusual about the bodies as far as anyone could tell. The ME did say that based on the most recent body, she wondered if the suicides weren’t actually suicides though. She’s looking over the other two bodies again to see if it could have been staged to look like a suicide,” Sam told me.

“That qualifies as not much to you?” I asked. “I mean, granted it doesn’t really up the weird factor. But what if they missed something else too? Something they wouldn’t know to look for?”

“That’s exactly what I said,” Dean said smugly.

“Whatever. I’m not having this discussion again,” Sam told his brother as the waiter came over. We rattled off our orders to him and waited for him to leave before continuing.

“Did you find anything?” Sam asked.

“No. I do have a list of people for us to talk to though,” I answered. I took the list out of the pocket I’d tucked it into after folding it up and handed it to Sam.

“What, the cops have a suspect list?” Dean asked.

“No,” I snorted. “Whether or not this ends up being our kind of case, I feel bad for the people in this town. Their idiot sheriff doesn’t even think it’s worth looking into. It’s an open and shut case as far as he’s concerned.”

“What’s your list then?” Dean questioned, leaning over to read over Sam’s shoulder.

“Close family and friends,” I answered. “I’m hoping we can figure out what connects them all.”

“Right,” Sam said. “It’s not like we can monitor every single married couple in this town on the off chance they might get murdered.”

“Actually, they weren’t all married,” I told him. “I guess the last two were just roommates.”

“There goes the siren theory,” Dean sighed.

“Not necessarily. It still could be,” I said.

“How?”

“Sirens don’t target married people specifically,” I explained. “They just make you kill someone you love.”

“So you’re saying they were living together as friends but secretly in love?” Dean asked.

“Maybe. Or maybe not. Love doesn’t have to be romantic.”

The waiter brought out our food and we made a plan as we ate. Dean wanted to check out the crime scenes first. Sam argued that we might get more information from talking to people. I wanted to side with Dean because I really wasn’t looking forward to interviewing ten different people, but I had to agree with Sam. Might as well get this part out of the way. We could look at the victims’ houses after.

~~~~~

Several hours and too many interviews full of crying loved ones later, we stood in our motel room going over the information we’d gathered today. The ME had called an hour ago and confirmed that it was flat out murder, not murder suicide. We hadn’t gotten any useful information out of any of the people we talked to today though, and we were all a little frustrated.

“Alright, well the roommate vics were extremely close,” Sam recapped, thinking out loud. “Which means Y/N’s theory on them loving each other pans out, leaving a siren as the most likely culprit. But how are we supposed to find it? We still don’t have anything that links these people together,” Sam grumbled.

“And why is it killing people?” I added. “Usually they leave the killing to their victims. Maybe we missed something.”

“Or,” Dean cut in, standing up from the chair he’d been in. “We'll find the answers we need at the crime scenes. Which I said we should look at four hours ago.”

“Yeah, Dean. We know,” Sam snapped.

“Let’s just figure out our next step,” I interjected.

“Maybe we should do some research on sirens. It would be easier to track it if we can figure out where they live, how they make people do what they want, that sort of thing,” Sam suggested.

“C’mon Sam, we’ve spent all day doing research on the victims. Now you’re telling me you want to do more research?” Dean complained. “What we should do is go to their houses. I’m telling you, if we want answers, that’s where we’ll find them.”

“Maybe, but we still have to know what we’re up against,” Sam pointed out. “Why don’t you and Y/N go check out the houses. I’ll stay here and research,” he suggested.

“Fine. Let’s go,” Dean said, satisfied with this compromise. He went outside and I heard the Impala’s engine roar to life a few seconds later.

Sam grabbed his laptop and settled in to work while I grabbed my coat.

“Let us know if you find anything,” I said. Sam assured me he would and then I followed Dean out the door.

We decided to split up to cover ground faster. Dean would drop me off at the first house and head to the second house himself. When he was done there he would pick me up and we would look at the last place together.

Dean parked outside the first house, a small blue one with a row of flowers planted along the front of it.

“I’ll call you when I’m on my way back,” he told me as I was getting out of the car. He drove away and I walked into the house, ducking under the police tape strung up on the door.

The first room I walked through was the kitchen. Other than a few unwashed dishes in the sink, it was spotless. I knew the murders had happened in the bedroom, so I didn’t expect to see much in the rest of the house, but I was looking for any sort of clue that would lead us to the siren. I took a quick look at the pictures on the fridge but didn’t see anything that would help.

The next room was the living room which was also clean. A cursory scan of the room told me these two were huge movie fans. There were several movie posters hanging up on the walls, an entertainment center overflowing with DVDs, and a little box full of old movie tickets. I didn’t know how this could be a connection with the other couples, but it was clearly a big part of their lives, so it was worth making a mental note of. Other than that, I didn’t see much. A brochure for a yoga class stuck underneath a pile of magazines on the coffee table. A framed picture of the two skiing was hanging on the wall. I noticed a coffee mug with what I assumed was the name of a local bar printed on the side. I made another mental note of both the yoga class and the bar just in case.

Then I moved on to the bedroom. Even if I hadn’t known ahead of time what happened in here, it would have been pretty clear. There was a bloodstain on the bed and the blankets were rumpled, like there had been a struggle on top of them. One of the pillows was knocked on the floor. The nightstand on the left side of the bed had been knocked over, a picture frame shattered beside it. And there was a second blood stain on the cream carpet.

I braced myself, turning off the part of my brain that wanted to be horrified and turn away from the scene. I looked around the room for any sort of clue as to who the siren might be or where it might have gone. It would be a lot easier if I knew what exactly I was looking for. Sam was right. We should have done the research first.

After thoroughly searching the bedroom and the bathroom and finding nothing, I made my way back out of the house. I wasn’t quite ready to give up yet, but I was getting more doubtful that this wasn’t something the real FBI should be handling. I stepped back outside and saw the cute guy from earlier walking past. He heard the door close behind me and looked over.

“Oh, it’s you,” I said. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he answered as I walked towards him. “I do believe that’s a crime scene you just walked out of. Not exactly legal.”

“It is when you’re FBI,” I told him, pulling out my badge. It identified me as agent Y/N Perry.

“That explains why I haven’t seen you around before,” he said, not seeming overly surprised by the news.

“What are you doing here?” I asked again.

“I live next door,” he told me. “I didn’t really know them. Terrible what happened though.”

“It is,” I agreed. My phone rang and I took it out of my pocket, seeing Sam’s name on the screen. I excused myself to answer it.

“Hey, Sam. What did you find?”

“Have you heard from Dean?” He asked urgently.

“No, why?” I asked, immediately worried. Before he could answer, everything went dark.

~~~~~

Sam’s POV

“What do you got, Sam?” Dean asked immediately upon answering my call.

“Not much, but I think I’m starting to figure out more about this siren,” I told him. I hadn’t had time to gather much information yet, but what I had found mixed with a quick phone call to the ME was starting to clear things up.

“Like what?”

“So get this. When sirens… put you under their spell or whatever, it leaves high levels of a hormone called oxytocin in your blood.”

“So?”

“So, I called the ME and asked her about it. There were high traces in three of the victims. The female victims. For whatever reason, this siren is going after the women, not the men.”

“Son of a bitch! Please tell me you called Y/N before you called me,” Dean said.

“Why? Aren’t you together?”

“No,” Dean growled out in a tone of voice that suggested stress and frustration. “We split up to move faster.”

“Alright. Well don’t worry. I’m sure she’s fine. I’ll call her now,” I said, trying to calm him.

“I’m going back to get her. I’ll call her on the way.”

Before I could argue that he was already worked up enough and should just focus on driving I heard a thump, Dean grunting, and then the sound of his phone clattering on the ground.

“Dean!” I yelled. No response. I hung up and headed outside. I needed to find a car. Once I had one ready to go, I started driving to the closest address on the list.

~~~~~

Y/N’s POV

The first thing that registered in my mind was the way my body was shaking. I heard a distant voice calling my name as consciousness slowly found me. It took a few seconds for me to fully wake up and process what was happening. The shaking was due to the hand on my shoulder, trying to jostle me into consciousness. The voice was Dean’s, and it wasn’t distant. It was right in front of me.

My head was pounding. I tried to remember what happened. I was outside waiting for Dean. Sam called. Then what?

“Y/N!” Dean said a little louder. I opened my eyes and immediately closed them again, hissing at the pain that shot through my skull from the bright light in the room. Someone must have hit me over the head. Who? No one else had even been around. Except for that guy I bumped into earlier. He must be the siren then.

I felt a surge of frustration at my stupidity. How did I miss it? I knew it was weird that he just happened to be outside that house.

“C’mon. We should get out of here,” Dean encouraged, pulling me to my feet.

“Just a minute,” I pleaded as a wave of dizziness rushed over me upon standing. I braced my hand on the wall beside me.

“What happened?” He asked. “You didn’t answer the phone.”

Once the dizziness passed, I slowly opened my eyes. The pounding in my head was intense, but it was more manageable when I took things slow.

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Who, the siren? Dead,” he told me. That was good news I guess. I didn’t know how much help I’d be in a fight right now. He was almost entirely supporting my weight. Then something occurred to me.

“How?” I asked, looking up at his face. “We don’t know how to kill them.”

“Well I had a machete with me. I couldn’t walk in here completely defenseless. When I saw him standing over you, I cut his head off. Apparently that’s all it takes,” he explained.

I looked around the room, searching for the body, and realized this was the house of the first murdered couple. We were in the living room.

“He brought me in here?” I asked.

“Well. It was close by. And there isn’t much chance of anyone walking in. Made it easy for me to find you, too. How are you feeling? Ready to go?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m good,” I told him. My head was still pounding, but the dizziness was gone.

“Good,” he said, carefully turning me to face him. “I was really worried about you.” Then he kissed me.

I so badly wanted to be able to enjoy this. I’d dreamed about it so many times but never imagined I’d ever build up the courage to tell him how I felt. Or that my feelings would be reciprocated.

I placed one hand on the back of his neck and gave myself a couple of seconds to be sure my balance was good. Then in one quick motion I stepped to the side and used the hand around his neck to shove him face first into the wall.

“Ow! What the hell?!” He yelled, clutching a hand to his bleeding nose.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, watching closely for any indication he was about to run or attack.

“I am Dean!” He insisted. He held a hand out placatingly and took a step towards me.

“Stay back,” I warned him. I reached into my boot and grabbed the silver knife I kept there at all times. “I know a shapeshifter when I see one.”

He dropped his hands and stood up straighter, a cocky smile gracing his mouth. He started to walk in a slow circle around me.

“What gave me away?” He asked casually.

“A few things,” I answered, rotating my body to keep him directly in front of me at all times.

“Like?”

“Where’s Dean?” I asked again.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. Just a little tied up at the moment,” he smirked.

I lunged for him, hoping to catch him by surprise. He easily blocked the knife I had aimed directly at his heart and threw a punch that caught me in the stomach. The force of the blow knocked the breath out of me, but I recovered quickly and slashed out with the knife at the hand that was reaching for my hair. He hissed in pain and quickly withdrew his hand.

“Don’t make this harder than it has to be,” the fake Dean growled. “You know you can’t win. Might as well save yourself some of the pain.”

My head was killing me and the dizziness was threatening to return and become a very serious problem. I waited for his next attack. I didn’t have to wait long. I saw his muscles tense to move and then he closed the distance between us quickly.

He reached out for the hand that was holding the knife, trying to force it out of my grip without touching it. I took advantage of the way he focused on the knife to kick his knee as hard as I could. His knee buckled and I used all the strength I had to push him into the wall behind him. I pressed the knife to his throat.

“Where is Dean?” I demanded.

“What gave me away?” He asked again. I couldn’t believe the arrogance. Did he really not care about anything but the fact that I’d seen through him?

“I’m not going to ask again,” I threatened, pressing the knife just a little harder into his skin. “Where is he?”

“Quid pro quo,” he offered. “Answer my question, I’ll answer yours.”

I seriously debated just killing him, but decided to humor him just this once. He wasn’t going anywhere and I’d get the answer out of him one way or another.

“First of all, Dean wouldn’t just sit there waiting for me to wake up. He would have just carried me out. Secondly, he has a scratch on his jaw that hasn’t healed all the way yet. That particular scratch is missing from your face. Third, if he’s not sure which weapon to bring with, he always chooses his gun. Silver kills a lot of things, so it’s usually the safest bet. Also, where’s the body? You said you killed the siren, but there isn’t a body. And as far as that goes, you don’t have a machete either.”

“Hmm. You’re observant,” he said. “Not observant enough though. Otherwise you probably would have seen this coming.”

His hand shot up and grabbed my wrist, pushing the knife away from his neck. He pressed hard on the tendons there until I was forced to drop the knife. Then he spun us around, pressing me up against the wall. He pinned both of my wrists to the wall and leaned in close, his breath brushing my face.

“Now this seems more familiar, doesn’t it?” He smiled.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I spat.

“No?” He mocked, pressing his cheek to mine and talking directly into my ear. “You’ve never dreamed about Dean pressing you into the nearest wall and kissing you breathless? I think you have. Many times. As recently as just a few hours ago.”

I whipped my head to the side to look at him. He grinned triumphantly.

“That’s right. I’ve been inside your head. I know exactly how you feel about this pretty boy of yours.”

I bristled at the way he had stolen Dean’s face, tried to use it against me, and was now flaunting that fact.

“You don’t know anything,” I spat. He just continued as if I hadn’t said anything.

“That’s why I chose you. It was pure coincidence running into you, but you’re a very attractive woman, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Give what a shot? Murder? News flash, you’ve already done that. I’d suggest branching out and finding a new hobby.” I pushed lightly against his hands, testing the possibility of breaking free. That wasn’t an option. He was holding on tight, and I wouldn’t be able to beat him in a battle of strength.

He smiled and kept ignoring me.

“You see, I had to turn into you first to get in your head and see if you fit what I was looking for. It was a shock, of course, to find out that you’re a hunter. But it turns out you did fit my needs, and you and your friends were so far off the mark, I knew I’d be safe enough.”

“What do you mean, I fit your needs?” I asked. I had a plan to escape his hold, but as long as he was content to talk, I wanted answers.

“Well you’re in love of course,” he said.

“So?” I didn’t bother denying it. Like he said, he’d already been in my head.

“So,” he answered as if I was being extremely stupid. “Isn’t it so much better being with someone when you’re in love?”

I felt my brow wrinkle in confusion. Being with someone? What was he talking about? What did it have to do with murder?

I felt a wave of horror and disgust wash over me as I understood his meaning. He’d posed as the men the women were in love with and slept with them before murdering them both.

“If it’s any consolation, they died happy,” he told me. “Well,” he amended. “The women did, anyway.”

“So what?” I snarled. “You thought you’d come in here looking like Dean and I’d just take my clothes off for you? Just like that?”

“Well, not just like that. But I figured you’d be willing enough once I had some time to convince you.”

I remembered how he had kissed me before. I assume that was the kind of convincing he was referring to.

“We still could, you know,” he offered. He brushed his lips gently against mine and I jerked away. “You can pretend I’m him and I’ll give you what you’ve always wanted.”

“Right before you kill me, you mean?”

“Well obviously I can’t let you live,” he said.

“I think I’ll pass,” I said. I drove my knee up as hard as I could into his crotch. He may not have been entirely human, but he still went down as hard as any human man.

I dropped down to pick up my knife, doing my best to ignore the pain the quick movement caused in my head. I didn’t give the shapeshifter time to recover. I immediately turned to him and drove the knife into his heart. He gasped in shock and pain and then collapsed, unmoving.

I rose to my feet and made my way – a little unsteadily – out of the house. I was pretty sure I had a concussion and that fight had taken all the strength and energy I could muster. As I stepped out of the house, a car came screeching down the road and parked next to the only other car on the street. I didn’t know if I could really handle it, but I prepared myself for another fight.

The driver door opened and a tall man stepped out. Sam, I realized when he called my name. And the car he was in was the Impala. How had he gotten it? Sam ran over to me and put a steadying hand on my shoulder.

“Are you ok? What happened?” He asked.

“Where’s Dean?” I asked, ignoring his questions.

“I don’t know. I’ve been looking for both of you,” Sam said. “I found Dean’s car at the second house, but no sign of him. I was hoping I’d find him here with you.”

Just then we heard a muffled banging noise coming from the other car on the street.

“Stay here,” Sam told me, drawing his gun as he walked towards it. I was in no position to argue seeing as the dizziness was returning and I was struggling to keep my balance. He stopped by the trunk of the car. “Dean?”

“Sam! Get me out of here,” I heard Dean say from inside.

“Just a second,” Sam breathed out in relief. He tucked his gun back into his jeans and went around to the front of the car in search of the keys. He pulled them out of the ignition and then opened the trunk. Dean jumped out, fuming. He was down to just jeans and a t-shirt, the shifter having stolen the rest of his usual layers.

“Where is it? I’m gonna kill it,” he seethed, marching towards the house. He paused momentarily when he saw me swaying on the sidewalk and then hurried over to me. He wrapped my arm around his shoulders and put his own around my waist to help me stay balanced.

“What happened? Did the siren do something to you? Where is it?” He asked.

“It was a shapeshifter, not a siren,” I told both him and Sam who had followed close behind his brother.

“Was?” Sam questioned.

“It’s dead,” I said.

“That explains why my clothes are gone,” Dean said irritatedly. “Why is it that we seem to be leaving behind a trail of shapeshifter bodies wearing my face?”

“Well, you’re an objectively good looking guy. Maybe they just can’t resist all the girls they know they’ll get with a face like that,” I teased.

“Alright, well you’re obviously in even worse shape than I thought,” Dean said, half teasing half genuinely worried. I guess I haven’t ever said anything to him before about him being attractive. This concussion was loosening my tongue apparently. “Sam, you mind getting the body? I’m gonna get Wobbly here to the car.”

“Why can’t we just leave it?” Sam asked.

“Because I want my clothes back for one thing,” Dean replied. “And for another, I don’t want to be blamed for yet another set of murders.”

“Good point,” Sam agreed. He headed for the house.

Dean turned us towards the car and the movement caused me to trip a little on my own feet. The adrenaline was fading away, leaving me helpless to fight off the dizziness that I thought had disappeared.

Rather than let me stumble my way to the car, Dean moved the arm he had around my waist a little higher on my back and put his other arm under my knees, scooping me up in his arms and carrying me. I couldn’t be bothered to keep my head held up and rested it against his chest.

“What happened?” he asked, referring to my balance issues.

“He caught me by surprise and hit me over the head. I think I have a concussion.”

“You thought he was me, so you didn’t see it coming,” Dean said. He adjusted my weight so he was able to open the car door.

“No. He looked like someone else. I turned my back to take a call and he hit me. When I woke up he was pretending to be you,” I explained.

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he sighed as he gently set me down, careful not to hit my head.

“Why?” I wondered.

“He took me out too. Only I didn’t even know he was there. If I’d been paying attention better, I could have stopped him before he got to you,” Dean said, ashamed.

“Not everything is your fault, you know,” I told him. I saw Sam step out of the house, a large body tossed over his shoulder. “This isn’t on you. And it doesn’t matter anyway. It’s over.”

I could tell he didn’t agree with me and he would beat himself up over this for a while. But he left to open the trunk for Sam and I was too exhausted to try and convince him otherwise.

~~~~~

An hour later Sam was watching over me while Dean went to take care of the body. I sat on the lumpy couch and held a bag of frozen peas to the back of my head in an attempt to bring down the swelling. I’d taken Ibuprofen as soon as we got to the motel and both the headache and the dizziness were slowly starting to fade. I’m sure finally sitting still helped the situation too.

“Why do you think it killed them?” Sam wondered aloud. “I mean, how did he choose his victims?”

“He chose women that he considered beautiful and that were in love. He turned into the man they loved and when he was done with them, he killed them,” I answered even though he hadn’t actually been expecting an explanation.

“He told you?” He asked, surprised.

“In way too much detail,” I said.

He was quiet for a moment.

“You know what I don’t get? If it wasn’t a siren then where did the oxytocin come from?”

“The what?” I asked.

“Oxytocin. It’s a hormone that sirens infect you with,” he explained. “Actually, Dean was on his way to warn you when he got ambushed. I told him that all the women had high levels and so it looked like they were the ones being targeted.”

My face drained of blood at the reminder of what that thing had done to those women. Of what he’d tried to do to me.

“I know what it is,” I told him. “And it’s not specific to sirens. It’s a naturally occurring hormone in the body. Ever heard of the love hormone?” At his nod I continued. “It occurs during childbirth, breastfeeding… and sex. That’s why he wanted women that were in love. He said it’s so much better that way.”

Understanding showed on his face alongside a mix of horror and protective anger.

“Y/N… he didn’t?”

“No,” I assured him quickly. “Not me anyway. I figured out what he was too quickly.”

Relief replaced the other emotions on his face and he stayed silent as he processed this new information. Then he wrinkled his brow in confusion.

“You said he chose women that were in love,” he said.

“Yeah,” I confirmed.

“So why did he go after you?”

I was practiced enough at hiding my feelings for the older Winchester from both brothers that I didn’t even have to hesitate to come up with an explanation.

“I guess he found me attractive. Per his usual pattern, he turned into me to see if I was in love with anyone and found out pretty quickly that I’m a hunter.”

“Then why did he turn into Dean?” He asked.

“He was pretending to rescue me,” I answered.

“Right, but why? What’s the point? If he wanted you dead, he had the chance. There was no reason for him to mess with you that way.”

I didn’t have a reasonable explanation for this, so I stayed quiet.

“He wasn’t just going after you because you’re a hunter. You fit the profile he was after and he wanted to-” he cut himself off and considered his wording. “He wanted to… complete his usual pattern. Because you’re in love with Dean,” he surmised, smiling a little bit at this conclusion.

I decided silence was the best option here. I couldn’t possibly contradict his completely accurate deduction. I wouldn’t outright confirm it for him, but I wasn’t going to deny what we both knew to be true.

“Y/N.”

More silence.

“Tell me I’m wrong and I’ll drop it,” he promised. I sighed.

“You know you’re not,” I told him.

“Then why don’t you do something about it?” He asked.

“There’s nothing to do about it,” I answered. “He doesn’t see me that way. And that’s fine. I’ve accepted it.”

“How do you know he doesn’t feel the same if you don’t tell him?”

“Sam, I’m really not in any condition to do anything to you right now, but I swear if you say anything to him, there’s going to be hell to pay in a couple of days,” I warned.

“I’m not going to say anything,” he said, offended by my assumption. “But I really think you should tell him. You guys are so great together. I think you would be good for each other. And I would be very happy for you.”

“Thanks, I guess. My head hurts too much to even consider thinking about this right now,” I told him.

“Alright, fine. I’ll let it go,” he conceded. “For now.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After that we sat in companionable silence while we waited for Dean to get back. Sam turned the TV on. I closed my eyes to block out the light and just listened to it, finding it to be a suitable distraction from the day’s events.

Dean got back probably twenty minutes later by my estimation.

“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked as soon as the door was shut behind him.

“A little better,” I told him.

“Good,” he said. He took the peas from my hand and gently felt the lump that had formed on the back of my head. “I think the swelling might actually be going down a little bit.”

He took the now room temperature peas to the freezer and switched them out for a fresh bag. He handed it to me and then sat down beside me, putting his arm around me.

“Is this ok?” He asked. He didn’t know the details that Sam did about the shapeshifter’s intentions, but he knew that I had been attacked today by a guy wearing his face.

“You don’t have to tiptoe around me,” I told him. “I know it wasn’t you. For the record, I knew the whole time it wasn’t you. I’m fine. I’m not traumatized and I’m not afraid of you.”

“A simple yes would have been fine,” he teased, pulling me closer into his side.

Movement from Sam’s direction had me glancing at him. He just smiled at me, looking meaningfully at Dean and then winking at me. I would have rolled my eyes if the action wouldn’t hurt my head. Instead I pointedly looked away from him. Things with me and Dean were fine the way they were. I wasn’t going to mess it up now just because Sam knew about my feelings.

A romantic relationship with Dean was something I wanted, but not something I needed. This right here – sitting together with my two best friends, knowing that even though I was temporarily unable to defend myself should it be necessary I was still safe and protected – this was all I needed. At least, that’s what I’d continue to tell myself.

Chapter 2

Tags:

@123passwort

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #familiar #reader insert #dean winchester #sam winchester #case fic #monster of the week #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x platonic!reader #writing prompt

851 notes · View notes

iddybiddysquish · 1 year

Text

I Regret Request: Aizawa x Reader

Masterlist: Here

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Gender: AFAB

Warnings: Student x teacher! Vaginal fingering, marking, A/B/O quirk, arousal quirk, crampie, riding, biting, marking, unsafe sex, mild bondage, 69, oral sex giving and receiving, spanking, slight brat taming - not good with terminology to let me know if I've missed anything!

Notes: Feedback is welcomed and I hope you have a good time reading! Never written for Aizawa before so pls be kind! <3 Reader has the ability to copy and edit quirks! Not beta read, we die like men.

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'I regret everything.' I whined as I laid in my bed, thighs heavy with slick as I came for the 12th time that morning. It has only been an hour or so since I'd awoken to an aching need in my cunt that was impossible to ignore and a fever so hot that I was starting to see stars.

I was exhausted and yet nowhere near satisfied. I knew I was going to need to call in sick with how painful this arousal is.

It took me a while to figure out what the cause was. At first I thought I'd been hit with an arousal quirk in my sleep, as impossible as that is. However the more I looked into the quirks I'd copied at random that took my interest, I discovered something that I didn't know when I copied the quirks.

Quirk: A/B/O

This quirk gives the user characteristics of the A/B/O genre, including giving them a second gender. This gives them claws and fangs that can retract as well as basics such as enhanced senses and physiological changes such as scent glands and enhanced animalistic thinking.

Quirk: Estrus

This quirk gives the user the ability to cast uncontrollable arousal in individuals who are touched or are within a 5 m distance.

Apparently, this included heat and rut cycles as well as an estrus cycle, the latter of which is experienced because of the quirk with the same name - side effects of both quirks. It's not helped by the fact that I was weeping out of every hole - even my ass now had a uterus and there was a third uterus with a vaginal opening between my anus and normal vagina, both with slick pouring out of them, like male Omega’s get in the Omegaverse and it was killing me. Three vaginas was too much to contend with when all I had were handheld toys at my disposal.

'I don't have enough hands for this shit.'

What made things worse was that I was capable of experiencing a mating season as well as a heat or a rut despite not being an Alpha, which confused me. I was clearly an Omega - even having the male equivalent of uteruses.

To cum more readily I even activated a quirk that gave me both male and female genitalia but the friction, despite my slick, was starting to hurt my sensitive head and thick knot that had formed from my last orgasm, and I was nowhere near feeling satisfied. So I deactivated it and wiped my hands clean before searching for my phone with disdain.

I am irritable and whiny all whilst pining for an Alpha to be submissive towards. It's a weird concoction that I wasn't appreciating as I laid in what I now realised was a nest of blankets and pillows I'd created to house myself as I cried from over and under stimulation.

Everything was made worse by the fact that I had no clue how long this would last.

‘Is this monthly or annually?’

The more I looked into this quirk the worse I felt, especially as I discovered I would have an annual mating season, would go into heat monthly, would go into estrus biweekly and would go in a rut whenever someone else experienced either one of these phenomena - so I could experience all of these at once, as I was, on top of an estrus cycle that corresponds with my menstrual cycle. I would’ve breathed a sigh of relief if I didn’t remember that there are many other people who would go through heat, estrus and or mating season, meaning I would be triggered into a rut by these and could even be triggered just by using the Estrus quirk.

‘I blame Tokoyami’s mating season…!’ I groaned, ‘Then at least it would just be a heat, estrus and a mating season…’

I wanted to cry.

“I can’t take this any more.” I moaned, deciding quickly I needed to call the school and explain what was going on. I needed help with this; there must be someone with a similar quirk that they’ve known about. After all, I copied these things from someone else.

Much to my surprise, when I explained to the receptionist I needed to speak to Aizawa, I was passed to him relatively quickly.

“(L/N)-san.” he greeted, “Are you unwell?”

“Something like that.” I groaned, crossing my legs tightly, “I’m in a very… difficult situation and I need some guidance.”

“I can help you in class if you want?” he begged, “If you get here sooner we can discuss it before class.”

“I… I don’t know if I can come to class.” I basically whispered. Aizawa frowned at this on the other side of the line with concern.

“Should I be concerned, (L/N)-san?” I sighed.

“I don’t know.”

“Why don’t you tell me the problem first?” he begged, walking down the hallway to get away from people, realising quickly that this was a private conversation, “Then I can tailor my aid better.” I groaned.

“This is going to be super awkward, so I’m sorry.” I warned, earning a grunt which sent a painful zap towards my clit, making me flush, “I copied a quirk.”

“Uh-huh…” he nodded when I didn’t say anything else for a few seconds.

“It’s given me a clusterfuck of hormones.” I explained slowly, “I’m essentially experiencing a mating season, a heat and a rut simultaneously as well as an estrus cycle - they are different. And I’m a bit scared.”

“... I wasn’t expecting that.” he admitted, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “I assume you’re in halls?” I nodded.

“Yeah.” I laughed humorlessly, “I know, right? I only discovered this would happen today because it’s happening now.

“I didn’t think to look at the weaknesses when I copied the quirk. It just seemed so interesting I couldn’t pass it up. Even if I edit the quirks I can't get rid of what I'm experiencing right now.”

“Stay in the halls.” he confirmed, “I’ll do some research and see what strings I can pull. You won’t be the first to experience either one of those things and I doubt you’ll be the last.

“For now, remain in your room. I’ll explain to the class that you’re having some… complications with your quirk and not to visit you.” he hummed, looking over at the watch on his wrist, “I’ll try to contact you by the end of the day and recommend you stockpile some food whilst the others are gone.” I nodded.

“Thanks sensei. I appreciate it.” he nodded.

“I’ll talk to you later. Stay safe.”

“You, too.”

And just like that I breathed a sigh of relief and laid back down, hand drifting down to my painfully empty holes and clit, only to come away with heavy slick dripping from my fingers. I groaned, pulling my head into a pillow and screaming for a few minutes before going back to playing with myself, unable to hold on for much longer without some kind of stimulation.

To say that Aizawa was concerned was an understatement. One of his prized students was suffering as he walked towards the classroom pondering the best course of action. The reality was that he knew she needed relief but he also knew that he was her teacher and shouldn't approach her. He'd be abusing the situation and his position.

Didn't mean he wasn't still tempted to pay her a visit to see her for himself.

Her quirk had always fascinated him. The ability to copy other quirks wasn't necessarily unusual nor was it unsurprisingly powerful. But it was how she used it to her advantage that impressed him. She thought outside the box and adapted to new quirks so effortlessly that he couldn't help but be in awe.

In all honesty it all went right to his cock.

'Not now…' he cursed, shuffling his pants around to hide the growing chub before entering the classroom with the same enthusiasm as he did every morning.

“Good morning, students.” Aizawa greeted, catching everyone off guard, Denki and Kirishima running to their seats as soon as he entered the room.

“You’re here early, sir?” Yaoyorozu spoke up, raising her arm. Aizawa nodded.

“I have an announcement.” he confirmed, “As you know, Tokoyami is still off. However (L/N)-san is having some complications with her quirk.

“As a result it would be wise for you all to leave her be in her room and don’t communicate with her until it resolves. It’s likely to last for at least a week.”

“So we won’t see her at all?” Ashido begged, earning the shake of a head.

“But what about food?” Hagakure begged, “(L/N)-san eats a lot.” Aizawa removed some of his hair from his face, thinking about the response, before answering.

“We might need to ask one of you to deliver the food to her door.” he concluded with distaste, “It’s not ideal but it’s imperative that all of you leave her alone. It might be best to have one of the girls to deliver the meals…” he sighed, fingers to the bridge of his nose, “Although that might not help.”

“Is she well?” Uraraka begged, concerned. Aizawa nodded.

“She’s not sick. It’s just something related to her quirk.”

“Why do they have to be female?” Iida begged, raising his arm. Aizawa groaned.

“It’s not necessary. But it would be best that all the men stay away from her door.”

“Why?” Kirishima begged, “What would require only the men to stay away?”

“Is it the same reason as Tokoyami?” Asui begged, raising her hand before Aizawa could respond. He sighed.

“Wait, why is Tokoyami away?” Midoriya begged her way.

“Mating season.” Asui noted casually with a shrug.

"Oh hell yeah!" Mineta cheered, causing Sero to cringe.

"You are banned from that floor, Mineta." Aizawa warned, his hair flying all over the place as he glared, earning a gulp from the boy. His words caused everyone to turn back to Aizawa, who was rubbing his temples.

“It’s a private matter. That’s all you need to know.” Bakugou raised a brow at this.

“So who’s gonna feed her?” he begged with a glare. Immediately everyone turned to Bakugou, causing his brow to twitch violently, “Why me?!”

“You love cooking.” Todoroki stated as though it were obvious. Shinsou snorted and Bakugou ‘tched’ and looked away sharply, glaring ahead of him as Aizawa looked at his watch again before divulging into the remaining announcements, none of which really kept Aizawa's attention.

Aizawa attempts not to get too attached to his students. The bonds are unbreakable of course, but he knows they only have three years to put each student through the ringer in order to make them become top heroes. That requires a lot of tough love and heartache as a teacher and guide.

This was a lot harder with (L/N) than he had originally anticipated. He'd be lying to say it wasn't the first time he'd gotten attached to a student, but even he couldn't deny that this was different. (L/N) was particularly unusual as a student. She was kind hearted and wore her heart on her sleeve despite having a strong offensive quirk that normally would create a lot of narcissism in an individual. It didn't match her attitude to herself and those around her.

Not that this was a bad thing in his eyes. It was just unusual. A diamond in the rough so to speak.

However she was reckless. Copying quirks willy nilly was dangerous and now he was having to pick up the pieces because of it. He could think of ways to make her pay, but none of them were PG.

'No.' he cursed mentally, 'I shouldn't think like that. She's my student.'

Still the dirty thoughts lingered. And they were with him the rest of the day as he contemplated how to fix the situation - (L/N)'s and his own that seemed to grow in his pants the more he contemplated the former.

I waited and waited until I knew the coast was clear. The only other person would’ve been Tokoyami two floors below, but he was staying at home, so for the first time I was on my own in the halls. Despite this, I was nervous to leave the safety of my nest to the point that I waited for far longer than I needed to.

It just didn’t feel right.

Opening the door I went to walk forward, but found myself freezing in the spot at all the scents.

“Oh… my god.” I reeled, gulping.

It took me a good few minutes just standing there in order to get used to all the smells. Some were pleasant, some were repulsive.

But others were tasty.

‘The strongest scent is…’ I realised quickly, mouth watering, ‘Bakugou’s…’

My scent-clouded mind wasn’t so surprised by this reveal. Bakugou smells like burnt caramel normally, so it’d make sense that I’d be attracted to it. It really was a no-brainer, even if I longed not to be attracted to the interesting scent, just glad that he wasn't here to witness this. It's not like I was actually interested in him beyond his tantalising smell.

The scent that I wasn't expecting to be drawn to, however, was that of Shinsou's. It was soft and tantalising. Like a comfortable cloud. It made me relax and feel like curling up and taking a nap despite my current circumstances.

What was more interesting was the minty freshness that was Todoroki’s scent I could detect from the elevator.

‘It’s almost spicy to the senses.’ I mused, feeling a wave of calmness wash over me.

Again, it didn’t surprise me that I felt myself drifting his way. Todoroki was very attractive and we had been getting closer as of late. It was almost predictable.

However the scent that was most tantalising, surprisingly, was Aizawa's. It was the faintest since he was rarely here. But it was still there, teasing me and making my mouth water.

'Does he know he smells that good?'

I had to slap myself to stop myself from following his scent and instead made a beeline for the kitchen and raided my pantry, grabbing every snack and unspoilable food I could before running back to my room. I was as quick as I could feasibly be. But as I went to close the door, I found myself peeking outside and down the hallway towards Aizawa's scent.

I shook my head.

‘I can’t go sneaking around like this.’ I scolded myself as my Omega whined at me, begging to investigate. I shook my head again as I felt my thighs clench and almost whined myself.

“No. I can’t.” But I didn’t move away from the door.

‘... Ugh why does he have to smell like that?!’ I cursed, looking back down the hall. Before I even realised what I was doing, I was sneaking towards the heavenly scent, as though I were about to be caught at any moment. I could feel Aizawa scolding me, but of course it never came since he was in class with everyone else.

‘This would be so amoral of me…’

Despite knowing this, I found myself turning myself invisible as I stalked towards the teachers quarters. It wasn't long before I arrived with only slight hesitation as I grasped the doorknob. I cringed at the squeak as the door opened, checking there was no one else around, but I was quickly blindsided by the absolute raw stench of his scent and felt my Omega trill in happiness.

From there I had zero control of myself as I entered his room and closed the door behind me, sniffing deeply as I attempted to fill my entire lungs with his scent.

Naturally, his bed smelt the strongest. And I couldn’t stop myself from lying on it and taking a deep breath of his pillow. With little effort I could fall asleep here and God did I want to.

However, I didn’t want to be caught by a cleaner or anything, so I regretfully removed myself from his bedding and skulked around his room with intrigue.

It was fairly neat and tidy. Everything was neatly packed away - even his dirty clothes were in the hamper, none left in sight. There were a few personables, such as collectables and books. I was drawn to the books, noting that a lot of them were either fiction or textbooks for class, some of which were missing, before looking over the neatness that was his desk with little surprise.

I couldn’t help rummaging through his things as though I were searching for something. But I was careful enough to put everything back exactly as I found it before eyeing the exit with disappointment.

‘I need to leave.’ I concluded, anxiously, ‘I need to get back to my room.’ despite feeling safe immersed in his scent. Regardless, I needed to get back and the need to hide was strong.

I couldn’t force myself to leave quickly. I eyed the bed and whined before eyeing his dirty clothing hamper with a dangerous thought in my mind.

‘I can’t.’ I argued as I looked inside, moving things around a bit as I took in his scent further, ‘He’d so notice if I took something of his.’

As if that was the only reason not to steal his clothing like some kind of smell-pervert.

‘Man I’ve really stooped to a new low.’ I concluded as I pawed at a shirt of his that smelt the strongest. Instincts told me I needed it for my nest and no matter how much I tried to rationalise, I found myself stealing the shirt and running back to my room to hide - from everyone and my shame.

I was grateful to Aizawa for warning off the rest of the class now that I’d committed a crime. But the way my Omega praised my decision left me feeling euphoric, especially as I snuggled the shirt and preened the den I’d created.

I spent most of my time preening, snuggling Aizawa's shirt and masterbating. It was a simple routine as I stored my snacks carefully as though I was creating a proper den to live in. And I supposed I was, given I’d be stuck here for the next however long it would be before I could go back to normal.

When I started to hear the whirl of the elevator and the sounds of people talking that was my first clue that school was over. My next clue was the knock at my door.

"Uraraka-san!" Iida commanded loudly, gaining my attention quickly, "Sensei said not to engage with (L/N)!"

"I know but I just want her to know we support her." She muttered back before turning back to the door, "We're here for you, (L/N)! Stay safe!"

I felt myself swell with happiness even if I found myself growling at the intrusion. I couldn’t bring myself to say anything back though as the pair muttered to one another quietly before going to their individual rooms. I found myself on edge, listening intently to everyone returning to their dorms or going elsewhere as I hid in my nest.

I had no idea how anxiety-inducing it would be now that everyone was back. But now I knew: it’s very anxiety-inducing.

I managed to fall asleep by burrowing myself with blankets and pillows. However I stirred when I sensed someone outside of my door, hearing them muttering something to themselves.

That’s when I realised it was Aizawa of all people.

I practically leaped out of my nest, thoroughly ruining it, and leaned across the door, taking in a deep breath of his scent. It was then I realised I smelt something else tasty and wondered if he’d made food for me.

My heart and Omega leapt at the thought.

"(L/N)-san." He spoke curtly, "I'll be delivering your food from now. Eat up."

'For me…?'

I had to claw at myself not to open the door and jump on him. Taking deep breaths I tried to focus on the smell of the food instead of the smell of Aizawa as I listened to his footsteps recede. And only when I was sure he’d retreated did I open the door and take the contents, eating quickly before leaving the bowl outside of the door as he had done.

This continued morning and evening for the next few days and sadly I wasn’t improving despite ordering new toys and other kinky tools to try and earn some relief. I was extremely grateful for Kaminari bringing them to me, oblivious to the contents, although I realised quickly he was hoping he’d get to see me when he knocked on the door. I heard him sit down outside of it as he began telling me about what I’d missed at school.

It was sweet of him.

“Bakugou kicked the crap out of him of course! The guy had a bloody nose for the rest of the day he hit him so hard!” he laughed, “I suppose that's what you get for messing with him.” I laughed, something he didn’t hear as I was hidden under the covers of my den.

I considered sitting by the door, but I was too desperate for a release, I worried I’d open it and ruin everything. And of all people, as wonderful as Kaminari is, my rational brain and Omega didn't want to have sex with him.

Only Aizawa would work. He was my prime Alpha.

So I didn’t and waited for him to leave before taking the box and abusing its contents.

By the time I had finished it was dinner time, and I basically sat glued to the door with blankets on me as I listened for Aizawa to arrive.

The strength of the symptoms seemed to wax instead of wane as time went on and I realised I was starting to really struggle when I heard his familiar footsteps coming towards the door. I breathed in greedily when I was greeted with his scent and moaned at the delicious smell, feeling myself until he paused at the door and knocked.

"Food, (L/N)."

I felt my mouth water - and it wasn't from the food. For once Aizawa didn't smell as much of his cologne and more of his natural, earthy scent and it was driving me wild.

"Thank you, Alpha." I spoke up, not thinking as I reached for the door and creaked it open slowly. Aizawa looked surprised given I hadn't done this before. But as soon as I did he made his face remain impassive.

It was difficult, however, because he could practically smell my aching cunt and desperation. Another thing that went straight to his cock.

"How are you doing?" He begged reaching out to feel my forehead, wincing slightly at my temperature with a deep sigh, "You're burning up."

"Need knot." I whined as I leaned into his cool touch. Aizawa looked at me for a moment before sighing again.

"You know I can't do that, (L/N)." He muttered as I pouted up at him. Opening the door fully I sat with my legs wide as I posed for him and gripped my thighs.

"Please, Alpha." Aizawa blinked, realising I was soaked through my underwear. It was then he noticed the sheen of sweat glistening against my skin.

I was a hot mess and it was driving Aizawa wild despite his cool and calm demeanour. It was starting to shatter his ability to hold back as I purred up at him and began to touch myself.

"Pretty please?" I begged as I batted my eyelashes at him.

Aizawa paused for a moment before breathing out haggardly. It felt like he'd run a hundred miles as he stared into my eyes.

As if the wall collapsed, all his self control flew out the window as he crouched and crawled over me, shutting the door with his foot and immediately going for my lips.

I moaned as his tongue glided across my lips, demanding entry. I gave in with little restraint and he forced his way into my mouth before sucking my lip and nibbling at it, eliciting more moans.

I was putty in his hands as he pulled me into him, gliding his nails across my back and under my shirt, causing me to arch into him. I felt him smirk into the kiss as I returned the favour, nipping his lip and forcing my own tongue into his mouth as I tugged on his ragged locks.

Hearing him moan was delicious and rare, I could tell. So when he did I felt my Omega trill with pride.

My hands dived down to his pants slowly as I played with the buckle and tugged at it, whining when he did nothing to free the thick erection I could feel pressing into my pubis. Aizawa gave me a mocking smirk as I fumbled with the belt, having to bring my other hand from his hair down to help.

"Eager, aren't you, (F/N)?" He chuckled. I pouted at his mockery, but grinned triumphantly when I managed to get the belt free and quickly put my hand down his trousers and pumped his cock once, then twice causing him to hiss.

I started to pump at a steady pace, watching as he gave the occasional groan into my body. From there he pushed my shirt up and dived into my breasts, giving them small kisses and sucks before latching onto my nipples. Occasionally I could feel the reverberations of his moans through them, eliciting small sparks through my body.

I had dreamed of this with Aizawa. For longer than I'd like to admit. He was a beautiful man with a drive I was in awe of. So I was a bit euphoric and dazed now that it was really happening. It means I also couldn't help but stare at him, which is when I realised he had been staring at me the whole time.

It was incredibly intimate. Being able to watch his expression shift as he experienced the pleasure I was giving him was a huge turn on, not to mention a beautiful sight.

'I'm the cause of that.'

However it wasn't long before he took control, taking my hands from his pants and pinning them above my head as he smirked down at me.

"Keep them there." He warned, "Be a good girl for Daddy."

Wordlessly I nodded, leaving my arms exactly where he pinned them. Only then did he slowly move his hands across my body before lowering himself towards my crotch and took a deep breath.

"Beautiful…" he muttered as he tugged on my underwear. However I made the error of trying to help with my hands, earning a glare. I froze.

"What did I say?"

"S-sorry Daddy." I muttered as I put my hands back where they were. He sighed and shook his head.

"Are you being a bad girl?" He begged lowly. I felt my cunt clench as he pulled me up and manhandled me into position on his lap so my ass was up in the air. I whined as I felt the cold air his my ass and vagina as he yanked my panties off, only to yelp when his hand came down on my left ass cheek roughly.

"Are you not answering me now?"

"I-I'm not being bad, I swear-" I yelped again as his hand came down for a second time, then a third and a fourth on the other cheek.

"I can't hear you." He muttered as he kneaded my abused ass cheeks gently. I felt tears prickle my vision at the sting but my slick only pooled out more as my cunt clenched with each wack.

"I'm not being a bad girl! I promise!" Aizawa raised a brow at me.

"You want to be a good girl again?" I nodded feverently.

"I'm your good girl, Daddy." I promised, earning a satisfied chuckle from the man.

"Alright. Come here."

Confused, I sat up and back onto my legs only for him to pull my legs towards him. It wasn't long before I realised he wanted to eat me out. However my mouth positioned so perfectly over his unexposed cock that I felt my mouth water.

As soon as my hands dived down to expose his throbbing cock he chuckled, breath tickling my clit.

"So eager." He mocked before pulling me down so he could sheath his face into my cunt. Immediately I gasped out and clenched around him, clawing at his clothes thighs as I bit back a lot of loud moans.

His tongue was experienced and effortlessly glided around my vagina to take in the delicious slick I was producing before his tongue dived into my pussy for more. Aizawa knew I'd taste great but he want expecting something so sweet and divine. It was addictive.

It wasn't long before his tongue finished it's pursuit and went straight for my clit as he encouraged me to rock on his face.

I jumped and squeaked at the sudden stimulation before practically melting on his face. Only when I'd adjusted however did I pull his cock free and hollowed out my cheeks. Taking in the tip I felt him moan into my pussy, making me smirk. I bobbed slowly, teasing his head slightly before taking the entirety of him in. He was thick and long so it was hard, but I relaxed my throat and took him in as deep as I could.

I felt his nails dig into my thighs as his ministrations picked up. After some trial and error I managed to match his pace as my head bobbed and my mouth drooled at the taste of his precum.

I wasn't sure how long I'd been sucking on him for. But I felt Aizawa buck into my mouth as his pace picked up on my clit. I could tell he was getting close from the way his hips jumped and stuttered and quite frankly I was exactly the same despite his continued encouragement with his hands to keep me moving on his face.

On a mission, I picked up the pace as I got closer and closer to my release. With time, however, I was soon unravelling on his tongue, moans and words of praise choked by his cock. Once I recovered I started sucking with the same pace and vigour as before, taking him deep down my throat as he began to deep throat me, hands pulling me down by the waist. It was a bruising grip but I didn't mind. It kept me grounded as he continued to suck me through and after my orgasm.

Soon his own release followed as he forced his cock down my throat. I choked, tears welling up and falling as I swallowed and attempted to keep sucking as I guzzled his cum greedily.

"Such a good girl." I heard him moan into my cunt before a slap to my ass sounded in the room, making me jump off of him. I was slightly dazed and my throat sore from the stretch, but I was still hungry for more.

And Aizawa could sense this as I sat before him. He smirked down at me as he brushed my hair out of my face and pulled me in for a rough kiss.

"Tell me what you want." I blinked.

"You." He tsked.

"What about me? Be more specific, (F/N)." I pouted, my cheeks reddening as I thought of all the lewd things I wanted him to do to me. Eventually I plucked up the courage and looked him in the eye as I climbed onto his lap.

"I want to feel you inside me." I whined, "Please, Daddy? I need to fuck you." Aizawa chuckled before pulling me up and standing, taking me to the bed.

"See that wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Aizawa immediately began to nip and suck at my neck, finding the most tempting of places that made me moan the loudest with little effort. Simultaneously he kneaded my breast with one hand whilst caressing my thigh with the other, hand gliding dangerously towards my clenching cunt. I began to get impatient with his teasing and growled at him, pulling his hand to my cunt demanding that he finger me.

Aizawa didn't like that.

Snatching his hand away, Aizawa glowered down at me dangerously before pinning my hands above the bed. When I wriggled in his grasp he grabbed his belt and quickly tied my arms to the bed.

"If you're going to be a brat." He muttered, slapping my tit when I fussed, making me yelp, "I'll treat you like one."

As if to solidify his point he began to tease my entrance with his fingers, gently scratching at my thighs and ass, gripping and slapping them every now and then to keep me on my toes as I writhed below him.

I wanted to protest. But with how he was sucking at my nipple, giving just enough pressure to stimulate me but not enough to get me going as he purposefully ignored my clit, I was second guessing my behaviour. Especially when he slapped my tit again from zoning out.

"Eyes on me, brat." He glared. I gulped and nodded, realising that pouting like a child was ineffective on this man. So I went lax and let him use me at his own pace, even if it had me tearing up. It was a sad sight that led to Aizawa chuckling as he slowly fingered me, edging me close to my release before stopping, over and over again. By the time I'd almost climaxed five times, my body was beginning to shake from the strain and I was panting like crazy.

"You're doing so well." Aizawa remarked as he pulled out his fingers at the last minute, for the sixth time, "I'll let you pick how we do this since you seem to have learnt your lesson." I blinked up at him.

'I didn't expect that…' I blanked, but my heart soared at the thought of him finally knotting me.

However I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine. So with a small grin I pushed him onto the bed and climbed on top of him. Aizawa looked up at me with a surprised chuckle, but he allowed it, hands slotting into place along my hips as I slowly grinded myself against his rock hard head, earning a low hiss.

Slowly I continued to grind, earning gritted teeth and nails dug into my hips. It wasn't exactly the reaction I wanted but it was effective. Deciding I needed more, I angled myself to meet him before slowly sliding his head into me, earning a small gasp.

I grinned at this, thighs shaking as I slowly sheathed him in me partially, only to remove him entirely. I then would repeat a few times, earning a slap on the ass.

"Are you trying to tease me?" He snarled as I slowly took him inside me again, the tightness of my walls slowly getting to him. I giggled, my only answer, "I can take back my gift to you and fuck you like the brat you are if you want?" He warned.

I paused my teasing at that. I knew he wouldn't let me cum if I did that. But the idea of being railed sounded all too tempting.

However I wanted to have some of my own fun, first. So my answer was to sit on him fully and roughly, causing a loud groan from both of us as I felt him smack my cervix.

The stretch wasn't painful exactly. It stung a little but it felt good to have him inside me fully. It was like he was meant to stretch me out, make me his.

So when I rocked I felt myself claw at his chest and grit my teeth with each thrust.

"Daddy you feel so good." I purred, throwing my head back as I picked up the pace. Aizawa grunted below me, guiding my hips as he let me ride him.

I whined when he hit that spongy spot deep inside me, which encouraged him to start fucking up into me as I rocked, hitting that area over and over again. It was enough to cause me to see stars and I was quickly approaching my orgasm.

"Fuck…" he groaned before flipping me over, causing me to yelp. However when he sheathed himself deep inside me, I moaned.

"Ugh Shota…!" I squealed when he pulled my legs up and over his shoulders, fucking me deeper and putting me in a mating press.

It seemed to give him a better depth to hit my g spot because he was nailing that sucker with each thrust and I was a panting, squealing mess as I felt that tight ball in my stomach release. And with it so did my fluids, soaking his pelvis in cum as I came hard on his cock.

"So messy, squirting for me like that." He commented as he continued to fuck my through my high, "It can't be helped."

Aizawa wasn't even close, the slaps of wet skin on skin sounded throughout the room as he picked up the pace. I couldn't help but scream his name as I approached my second orgasm. I began to scratch at his back hoping to ground myself, however when I came Aizawa shoved his tongue in my mouth to silence me, but never slowed his pace even for a second. If anything he sped up, determined to fuck through the high again as he reached his own climax. And when he did, his brutal pace continued as he fucked his cum into me.

The only indication that he'd came was him biting into my nape harshly, a deep, guttural almost growl sounding from his throat and the slight stutter of his hips as he slowed his pace gently.

I was still panting by the time his hips came to a halt. My body was on fire as every touch elicited a spark. So when Aizawa pulled me onto him, cock still thoroughly embedded inside me, I practically melted as I snuggled into his chest.

"Are you alright?" He begged softly, moving hair out of my face as he checked me over. I felt myself nod and yawn as I burrowed my head into his neck.

"Perfect, Alpha."

#bnha #mha #my hero fanfic #boku no hero academia #aizawa smut #my hero academia aizawa #mha aizawa #aizawa shōta #aizawa x you #shota aizawa #aizawa x reader #aizawa shota x reader #bnha smut #aizawa x oc #aizawa x y/n #omegaverse #a/b/o au #alpha beta omega

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eunoiaflow3r · 2 years

Text

becky’s plan - rodrick heffley x reader

requests are open!!

based off becky’s plan by cody jon.

warning(s): language, not edited.

word count: 1.7k

request(ed): no.

summary: y/n is greg’s babysitter. y/n and rodrick don’t like eachother but he hates the fact that she doesn’t like him so he comes up with a plan to make her jealous.

————————————————————————————

hello, i’m the guy you friend zoned. now i’m in your friend’s phone getting her to help me out to test your doubt that i can’t be seen romantically…for you and me you feel “nothing”

susan was a coworker of your mom’s so when she offered you money to tutor her son greg, you obliged. however, what you didn’t know was that his older brother rodrick would be home during the hours you’d be there, so now you were stuck in the kitchen with a messy haired messy eyeliner annoying ass boy. he was a year older than you and everyone loved him but for some reason you couldn’t understand why. he wasn’t that hot and his music was terrible.

greg went to his room, you were done for the day so now you were helping yourself to some snacks, courtesy of susan.

rodrick and you used to be friends once. until freshman year of high school where he completely shut you out. and he never told you why. it’s like a switch had been flipped and he changed. he was still around but the friendship wasn’t the same.

a few months after that, he had asked you out but you didn’t take him seriously. not after how he had treated you. he didn’t take rejection well and so then the “friendship” really went weird.

there wasn’t really any hate towards the other, more just animosity and teasing.

“why are you staring at me rodrick?” he was across the kitchen, also with some chips in hand and his phone in the other.

“are you always such a bitch?” he asks throwing a chip at you.

you frown and pick it up and throw it away. his messes would not be blamed on you.

“are you always this annoying?” you ask.

he smirks and kinda laughs to himself while looking down at his phone and then up at you.

“you’ll find out.”

at school the next day you told your friend becky all about what happened at rodrick’s house yesterday. she seemed shocked to hear those words from you considering how much you didn’t like him, but she knew deep down that there was a thin like between love and hate and that you secretly had liked him since the seventh grade.

so when he texted her last night around eight, saying that he had a plan…she couldn’t help but want to indulge.

after school, you had agreed to tutor greg again but what you didn’t expect to find when you got there was rodrick…and becky kissing on his couch. it was like a peck or two that you saw when you walked in.

you locked eyes with rodrick and it’s like he was waiting for a reaction. waiting for you to say something.

truth is you didn’t know how to react. you didn’t know why their was a pain in your chest but there was. maybe because your closest friend was kissing someone you hated? right. that had to be it. but you weren’t going to say anything, because you tended to ignore problems until they go away. so maybe this ginormous one in the living room next to you would disappear too.

what if i made out with your friend? said hi to becky once again? maybe your eyes would turn to mine. realize the friend zones not our type….

greg didn’t really understand the lesson too well so you stayed later to help him. he was a smart kid and truthfully, the delay wasn’t entirely his fault. the whole lesson rodrick and becky’s faces were etched in your mind and that moment was playing on repeat. you couldn’t understand why she would do something like this. she didn’t even like him. i’m fact, she preferred girls. maybe she was experimenting and used rodrick because he was the easiest and would say yes to any kind of action he could get. yes. that had to be it.

you said goodnight to greg while he went upstairs to play video games. what you didn’t know is that when rodrick came into the kitchen to talk to you, greg snatched rodrick’s phone and sat on the stairs to search through it while simultaneously listening to your conversation.

“y/n…”

“rodrick.” you roll your eyes.

there was a silence until you decided to speak up and break the tension.

“your girlfriend still here? oh i’m sorry, i mean my best friend?”

he smirks. “she went home a while ago. you probably didn’t notice because you were too busy day dreaming in there instead of helping greg with his math.”

“where do you get off kissing my best friend? there are like 200 girls in the school, and you choose the one closest to me?”

again, you’re not sure why you’re so heated about it..but you were.

“why do you care y/n?” he steps closer to you and you were a bit intimidated by the height difference and kind of frozen in place. unfortunately, you kind of liked the closeness. “are you jealous?”

you stepped away lowkey offended but didn’t say anything. never would you be jealous of rodrick.

the next day at school you had hardly said two words to becky until lunch. it was awkward, and you weren’t really sure what to say.

“so…you and rodrick?” your chest felt like it was on fire.

“uhm, not really he’s just a bit of fun y’know?”

a bit of fun…

“yeah.” you pause. “yeah i get it…fun.”

becky’s thinking that her plan is working on the low low. she said that you’re jealous you don’t wanna get in the middle of it all. you don’t know we faked it all.

you saw rodrick and becky again after school. you watched her get into his truck and talk for a while. you don’t know why it stung, but it did. you were confused if anything…but you told her that you’d stay out of it and let her do her. it’s really none of your business…however, you can’t help but secretly wonder what’d it’d be like to kiss him. you hate that the thought is in your head…it’s like seventh grade you is back again, and you’d hate to be her again.

lovesick and pining over a guy that everyone likes. naive twelve year old y/n. never again.

two weeks went by and you felt like you were suffering. everywhere you looked you saw rodrick and becky. talking at their lockers, in his car talking, eating lunch together. you don’t know if you were jealous of her or jealous of him. you felt like you were losing your friend but also losing him.

and you hate that because you didn’t even have him to lose him.

so when your friend marcus invited you to a party saturday, you decided you would go. usually they weren’t really your scene but you needed to get your mind off things. you needed a distraction.

becky said she’d be there too and you agreed to meet her there but you’d let marcus take you. she sounded distant when you told her about him, but you weren’t sure why.

you put on some jeans that made your ass look nice, and your favorite shirt. it was cute. you were cute.

marcus picked you up and complimented you. the ride there wasn’t long and you guys just talked about school mostly. it was nice, but deep down all you could think about was rodrick. you knew he’d be at the party. probably with becky. so you were using marcus as bad as that might sound. you were sort of hoping to make rodrick jealous and you know that’s bad but you can’t help it.

i know, that becky’s plan is so low. i must admit it’s my fault. i bribed her with some chocolate.

when you got there, music was blaring. you immediately saw rodrick with his friends and becky came up to you with a drink. you told marcus you’d find him later. after a bit of dancing, you decided to go to the bathroom for a break where you saw gred and his friend rowley hiding.

“guys? what are you doing here?”

this was a highschool party…and they were middle schoolers.

rowley got red. “we snuck in.”

you shook your head. you couldn’t just leave them alone at a place like this, so you decided you’d stay with them. they weren’t that enthusiastic about having a babysitter but it’s their own fault. they shouldn’t have snuck in.

“oh. y/n.” greg grinned mischievously. “i have something to show you.”

he pulled his phone out and it was text messages between rodrick and becky.

it revealed that they would plan where they hung out so you could see them and get jealous. rodrick wanted to make you jealous…

you were infuriated and knew exactly what you had to do.

“i’ll be right back guys.”

you made your way downstairs and made a beeline for marcus. you asked him to dance and he accepted happily. his hands went down a little towards your ass and that’s exactly what you needed.

you locked eyes with rodrick and he looked…angry.

you smiled and whispered to marcus. “kiss me.”

and so he did. he leant down and gave you a chaste kiss on the lips. it wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t bad. and rodrick saw it all. he came over and pulled you straight away from marcus.

“what the fuck.” you say. but instead of saying anything rodrick takes ahold of your arm and practically drags you upstairs.

“y/n what the hell?”

he lets you go and walks you into a wall so that you were close and he was seething. you found joy in it but you were pissed as well.

“becky’s plan?” you ask crossing your arms.

his face went red for a moment but he smirked. “how’d you find out?”

“doesn’t matter. you shouldn’t have done it.”

“but it worked.”

you couldn’t argue with that. it did work. it did make you jealous and you did have feelings for rodrick no matter how you tried to hide it or ignore it. almost losing him made you realize how much you really wanted him.

“and you got me back.” he said. “made me mad.”

“now you know how it feels.”

he grins. “that guy was almost on the floor because of you.” he’s closer to you now and you don’t stop him. one of his hands are on your waist and the other is on the side of your face tilting you up towards him.

“it was a dumb thing i did,” he said, “it was immature.”

“yes.”

“but you like me.” he says lips closer to you.

“…yes.” you admit.

and his lips were on yours and bodies pressed closer than possible. it wasn’t a quick kiss, or a peck. it was hot, and sweet, and passionate. your hands went through his hair and all you could think about was the loud music from downstairs, his lips on yours, and his hand wrapped lightly around your neck. the other hand was on your ass and it was slightly rough but you liked it. you’ve waited so long to feel like this.

his head went lower to press kisses against your neck and give you a large hickey you’d eventually notice later, while you resisted the urge to moan. why had you waited to long for him?

you both separated when you heard the bathroom door next to you. you were embarrassed.

“wow,” greg said. “that’s not how i thought things would turn out.”

maybe this year i’ll call you mine, realize the friend zone’s not our type.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley angst #rodrick heffley smut #rodrick heffley fluff #rodrick heffley imagine #rodrick heffley imagines

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ihavethedreamies · 2 months

Text

Love or Hate (1) | Jongho

Choi Jongho - ATEEZ

Word Count: ~3.2k

Pairing: Jongho x AFAB!Reader

Genre: Reader-Insert, Fluff, Pining, Angst? Reader gets cranky, Jealousy

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, almost a slight moment with Wooyoung

Summary: You have developed a strong crush on your best friend over the two years you have known him. One day, all your emotions just boil over.

Part 1; part 2 will be smut u3u

Part 2: Sweet or Spicy

Part 3: Sweet? or Spicy?

Edit: I did change the banner images so this isn't new or changed otherwise...

I am cross-posting this on Archive. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!

You had been friends with Jongho for a few years. You met both of your Freshman year and now the end of Junior year was approaching. It was at some kind of Freshman event that all the clubs and school organizations were at to try and recruit new members. Walking around the rec center gym where a bunch of booths were set up, you were looking at some brochures on an unmanned table when you quite literally ran into him. When you turned to walk elsewhere, you smacked into someone's chest and you yelped, pulling back quickly, your hand over your mouth. Since you were pretty short, even though he wasn’t super tall for a guy, he was bigger than you. Also, not just from literally faceplanting into him, you could tell he was strong. His pants were extremely tight and so was the long-sleeve button up he had on.

"Woah!" He steadied you by placing his hands on your shoulders and even his hands felt ridiculously strong.

"I'm so sorry!" You apologized again, not normally very clumsy. At first you wondered why he had been so close to you, but the place was quickly growing packed and there wasn’t too much room to move around. The event was supposed to be outside with more room, but it was pouring so they had to set up inside. Due to the amount of people, if you backed up too far you would be sitting on the table, so you were forced to stay close to him. What drew your attention most was that he was in a dress shirt and pants with a vest. It was like…hot as balls out even with the rain. Why was he so covered up?

Someone excused themselves behind him and he was forced even closer to move out of the way, and his hand had still not moved from your shoulder.

"A-are you wanting to look at this?" You pointed behind you, shuffling to the side so he could look at the brochures. There was a map of campus laid out on the table as well, both things explaining all of the different places and things you could do. He smiled and moved up to where you had been and so you grabbed a pamphlet and went to move on, but he called out to you.

"Do you work in the weight room?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah. Why?"

"I saw you there yesterday. Is there a time where it’s less busy?" He had picked up a flyer and walked over to you and once again someone brushed by him, and you found him even closer to you again.

"Um, the early morning. We open at like six, there aren’t too many people then." Most people did not like hearing that. You went to bed and woke up early so you didn’t mind working then. It actually paid more than in the evening because most people don’t want to work that early.

"Great, thanks…"

"(Y/N)." you told him, holding out your hand for him to shake and he returned it.

"Jongho."

After that he would come by the weight room when you were working and since it was slow that was also when you worked out. You weren’t great with cardio since you had asthma as a kid and so you just lifted. It made you laugh when he came in because he always wore long pants and long sleeves, whereas you would be in a sports bra and capris leggings. Eventually you began hanging out outside of the weight room and you joined his group of friends. They were…a lot. Most of the time, Jongho and you would sit off to the side and watch as Seonghwa tried to calm the chaos. One night you were hit really hard by the fact that you had gotten a crush on the youngest of the group. It was Sophomore year, and you were all hanging out in a small grassy courtyard behind the Liberal Arts building. It was nearing the end of the school year, and it was early spring, only a sweatshirt was needed even as the moon rose. Some of the boys were running around like children while you sat on a picnic blanket with Jongho, Hongjoong and Seonghwa. You were putting together some small Lego sets with the eldest when you heard a shrill cry of your name.

"(Y/N) help me!" Wooyoung screamed and you sighed but didn’t turn to look at him.

"Whatever it is, you deserve it!" You called back and he screamed again. Finally, you turned to see what was happening and he was being held captive by San as Mingi and Yunho bit his arm. Not having any idea how it had come to this you deadpanned at the scene and sighed. Getting up, you shot Hongjoong a look and he looked up from where he was writing notes of a new song, his guitar on his lap.

"Aren’t you dad? Seonghwa's mom? When did I turn into mom?"

"When Jongho became dad." Hongjoong told you and glared at him. He wasn’t wrong. Jongho was the scariest and if Wooyoung or San were being annoying he would just pick them up or squeeze their hand real hard. He could even throw a Mingi over his shoulder if need be.

"Why am I mom?" You looked quickly at Jongho who was leaning against the tree, his eyes closed, earbuds in. Seonghwa snorted and you glared at him then.

"Please." He scoffed and you flinched.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You questioned and the eldest shot Hongjoong a look himself and they had a silent conversation.

"Whatever-"

"(Y/N)!!!!!" Wooyoung screamed again and you knew you would have to do something before you all got in trouble. Groaning, you jogged over to them, prying San's arms off of Wooyoung while flicking Yunho and Mingi hard on the forehead. They yelped dramatically and fell back, holding their heads. San lunged to grab Wooyoung again and the younger one hid behind you, using you as a shield.

"Uh, guys-" Yeosang, who was standing nearby trying to watch, but not get involved, called out.

"Jung Wooyoung!" you scolded as he squatted behind you, holding your legs, pressing his cheek to your butt. His hand was wrapped around your thigh and your face felt warm having him hold you like that.

"Wooyoung-" Yeosang was ignored again and suddenly the other three looked at something behind you in fear.

"What?" You tried to turn and look too but there was a person attached to you.

"Oh my gosh, let go!" When you reached to pry his arms off of you, he just held on tighter, his other hand landing on your inner thigh.

"Ah!" he screamed out of nowhere and he was off of you. You stumbled at the force of what yanked him off and teetered before getting your balance.

"What the-" You finally turned and saw Jongho had pinned Wooyoung down on the ground and was holding his arms behind his back. He wasn’t doing it hard enough to hurt him, but he was restricting him from moving.

"Ow, ow, ow!" He yiped and seeing the display of strength, and the fact that he was doing it to rescue you, made your heart thud against your rib cage. That must have been what Yeosang was trying to warn of and why the other three got startled. The fabric of Jongho's sweatshirt spread tightly over his back as he wrangled the older boy, his jeans hugging his butt and thighs perfectly, and it hit you. Throwing your hand over your mouth, everything that everyone had been seeing but you suddenly sprung to mind. Whenever you needed help with anything, Jongho was there. If you ever were upset or even excited, you went to Jongho first. He bought you your favorite snacks when you met up and you always sat next to him. When you were sick, he would go to your dorm room and take care of you. If it was cold, you would let him huddle up to you for warmth. Also, you were made aware of the way you would ogle him all the time. Not only was he handsome and had the voice of an angel, he was thick in the best kind of way and everything he wore was always tight. Even though he barely even showed his forearms, to you he was extremely attractive in every way.

"I think she figured it out." Seonghwa chuckled quietly to Hongjoong.

"About time."

For almost a whole year you had been crushing on Jongho, but you hadn’t the courage to do anything about it. You were scared that if he didn’t like you back in that way, it would ruin your friendship. So, you just held it inside and your crush grew and grew. Afraid to admit it, even in your own thoughts, you were falling in love with him even though you weren’t even dating. There had definitely been times when he would flirt with you, and you would give it back. But who knew if it meant anything past just being playful. One night when you were all at your apartment, eating, drinking, and playing video games, you had a bit too much to drink. You tended to get emotional and cry easily when you were drunk, and you could feel tears pricking your eyes with no prompting. Not wanting the boys to see you like that and make fun of you, you shuffled back into your room, mumbling about going to the bathroom. Instead, you just sat on your bed, sniffling.

"(Y/N), are you okay?" Wooyoung knocked on the door, peaking in and pushing it the rest of the way open.

"M'fine." you mumbled, and he fully entered, kneeling in front of you.

"What's wrong, why are you crying?" His hands cupped your cheeks, wiping the tears away.

"Dunno."

"You don’t know?"

"Mhmh." He cooed at your cute tipsy state and his hand moved from your cheek to your jaw. He couldn’t help himself anymore, you were way too cute. He leaned forward, his nose bumping yours and you sobered up quick. You quickly held your hand up, placing it between you two and he blinked in surprise.

"S-sorry, Wooyoung, you, uh-"

"I'm not Jongho?" The older boy sighed, and you gaped.

"I might be a dumbass, but I'm not an idiot, (Y/N)."

"M'sorry." you muttered, and he shook his head with a small smile.

"Not surprised. Though, I think you should tell him. I don’t like you coming in here to cry about it." He stood up and held his hand out to help you get up from where you were sitting on your bed. Giving him a shy smile, you let him help you up and you both went back out to the crazies.

"Where'd Jongho go?" you asked, and Yunho waved toward the door to the balcony. The door was propped open with a wedge, and you went to join him out there. Better than later, especially with some liquid courage in your system. For some reason though, when you reached for the handle, you halted. Fear gripped you and with a sigh, you took a step back and went back to sit on the couch. Wooyoung shot you a look from where he sat on the floor, and you shook your head. When Mingi asked if you wanted another drink you denied and sat watching them play games. Maybe another time…

Looking at the time on your phone, you huffed from where you stood. You were waiting outside of Jongho's classroom, ready to be done for the day. He was going back to your apartment with you because you needed help putting together your new desk. While you could manage physically, you were really bad at reading directions, and he offered to help after you started to complain about it. There were still some kids leaving the classroom since they had to gather the materials they needed for some presentation project. When what seemed like the last kid had left, he still hadn’t come out. The teacher had even left already, so you got up from the bench and went far enough into the room that you could look around the corner at the end of the entryway. He was still in there, two girls sitting at the table with him. Must have been in his group. For some reason, seeing them there so close to him made you really mad. Maybe it was because they were making you wait longer for him, but it was more how close they were sitting to him. It was not necessary, and they laughed at something he said a little too hard. He was funny, sure, but that was too much to make sense. When the brunette to his left rested her hand on his arm you saw red. Looking at the drink you had gotten him, you sneered and stormed into the room, clenching the cup tight. You had waited ten minutes between standing in line and getting the beverage for him, then you had to wait while he was flirting around! They didn’t notice you until you sidled up to the table and slammed the drink in front of him, the ice rattling in the liquid.

"I'm going home." you snapped and turned aggressively, storming back out. You knew you were getting a little too mad. He was your best friend, sure, but you two weren’t even going out, but you just got so upset. Why didn’t you have the courage to flirt with him like that? Why didn’t you have the courage to confess to him?

"(Y/N)!" he shouted behind you as you stomped down the hall toward the entrance. You heard one of the girls call something out as well, but you couldn’t hear it as you shoved hard against the push handle of the door, throwing it open. The cool late spring air smelled like rain, the wet pavement evidence there was a short downfall while you were waiting for him.

"(Y/N)!" he called you again, much closer now. Damn your tiny legs.

"Wait!" Jongho was right behind you, and you just kept going.

"Hey!" He sounded mad, his hand grabbing your wrist so he could haul you to turn around and face him. He was taken aback by your red cheeks and eyes and the fire in your gaze. His grip wasn’t tight but even being stronger than the average college girl, there was no point in even trying to fight him. His face hardened and he pulled you closer to him, his nose almost touching yours.

"Why are you so mad?" he snapped, and tears flowed down your cheeks like when a pot boiled over. The burner heating your anger shut off and you just started to sob.

"H-hey." His anger dissipated immediately as well, and he used his hold on your wrist to pull you into him, hugging you. You balled your fists up against chest, trying to push him off to no avail. You weren’t fighting that hard anyway.

"Let go." You cried pitifully and he knew you didn’t mean it.

"What's wrong?" He pulled back just enough so he could look at your blotchy face. Avoiding looking at his face, one of his hands came softly to your chin so he could move your head, making you look at him.

"I hate you." You mumbled and he almost didn’t catch it, but your tone was insincere.

"Uh-huh." He scoffed. You said that a lot when you were pouty. You hated things quite easily when you didn’t mean it.

"I hate your stupid handsome face. I hate your stupid pretty voice. I hate your stupid deliciously tight pants. I hate your stupid gorgeous hands-" You were rambling, and he stared at you in shock. Sure, you were saying you hated him in multiple aspects, but they were more or less compliments. They ultimately were also confessions, each one.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), hey, slow down." You had told him you hated how sweet he was to you, how sexy his strength was, that he smelled good. In his head he turned each 'hate' to 'love', and he translated your rant. I love that you are so hot when you’re scary. I love that you're so effortlessly powerful. I love that you look good in literally anything. I love that you know me so well. I love, hate, love, hate…When you kept going, he chuckled, releasing you from his hold, but moving both hands to cup your jaw. He cut your rant off with his lips on yours, swallowing your next words. You squeaked in shock as the kiss turned from a sweet 'shut up' into something extremely heated. You sighed out a moan, your eyes slipping closed, and he slipped his tongue in your mouth. One of Jongho's hands moved to the back of your head, tilting it, and pulling you closer. The other found your waist and you pressed closer to him, his hard body unrelenting against your much softer one. Your head swam and it's like his breath was fanning the flame building in your belly. When he finally, reluctantly, pulled away, you were both breathing hard.

"You still need help building that desk?" Both his hands were on your waist, his thumbs rubbed your stomach over your sweatshirt. Yeah, then you can bend me over it…

"Y-yeah." The reality of the situation hit you, and he pulled back, linking his hand with yours.

"Come on." As you two walked off campus and toward your place, you let him lead you, lost in your head. Your fingers were constantly brushing over your lips, not sure if you were more shocked by the kiss or the things you said leading up to it.

"So, I'm stupidly handsome?" He started and you groaned.

"Oh, god."

"My voice is pretty?"

"J-Jongho-"

"My pants are deliciously tight?"

"Please stop-"

"Gorgeous hands?"

"…"

"I'm sweet? Sexy? Smell good?"

"Uh…"

"Hot when I'm scary? Powerful? Look good in literally anything? What was that last one?"

"…that you know me so well…" He stopped right in front of your building, and turned to look at you, your hand still in his.

"Obviously not as well as I should."

"What?"

"If I knew you so well, I should have realized you liked me back."

"Well, I tried- wait, like you back?"

"Yes, silly girl." He smirked and held up your linked hands in front of your face.

"I love that you so readily hold my hand. I love how cute you are, especially when you're mad. I love hearing you laugh. I love how big my sweatshirts look on you. I love how you can split an apple in half like how I taught you. I love that you always spoil me by cooking for me. I love watching your cute little ass in your little shorts when you're at home. I love that you use the perfume that matches my cologne. I love how passionate you get about things you like. I love how you can problem solve anything. I love that you are so small but so strong. I love that you're always by my side." He listed off and you were crying again. You sniffed happily and he pulled you into another hug, you dug your fingers into the leather of his jacket.

"I hate you." You mumbled into his chest, and he laughed.

"I love you too."

Masterlist

#ihavethedreamies #kpop #ateez #ateez jongho #choi jongho #kpop fanfic #kpop x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #jongho x reader #jongho fluff #ateez fluff

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spaceiix3 · 1 year

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In Pain, Please Help? (Lucifer x Reader)

Notes:

This fic is about the reader going through a non-specific episode of pain! (Not-so) fun fact: I wrote this during an episode with nothing to help alleviate it... bathroom floor time at 1 am is not fun. :,) Then I finished and edited it later, so if there's a shift in tone toward the end, that's why.

A romantic relationship between the Luci and the MC is implied because I like writing that better, but it can be read as a very close platonic relationship as well!

Reader is referred to as they/them, and ___ is used in place of a name.

Content warnings: mentions of nausea, mentions of painkillers, MC is in pain!!

Word count: 2.1K

Jolts of pain stabbed at me as I laid on the floor of my bathroom, clutching my stomach while trying not to throw up. My body shook involuntarily and I grabbed a piece of the bathroom mat in an attempt to calm my shaking. It didn’t work. I took a few deep breaths as I stared at the dust in the cracks of the dark tiles. This was not ideal.

I whined involuntarily and pressed my cheek against the cool floor, seeking any sort of sensation that was not pain blooming through my body. At that moment, it felt like it was all I'd ever known. That cold, unsanitary floor was at that moment just as comforting to me as a hug from someone I love would be at any normal time.

'Wait...' I said to myself, trying to ignore the constant haze of pain over me. 'Someone... maybe someone could help..!' My eyes widened slightly at this realization. At my place in the human world, I had to suffer through these bouts of pain on my own. The painkillers I kept with me at all times were my only saviors. But although I didn't have those here, I did have the brothers whom I lived with..!

I grabbed my DDD, fumbling with the lock screen and opening the text feature. Just scrolling through anything on my phone made me feel just as nauseous as if I were in a car driving in high-speed circles. I looked at the toilet beside me hesitantly for a long moment, then shook my head, taking long, deep breaths before facing my phone screen once more. I had to make this quick.

I clicked on a chat purely on instinct and typed out a straight-to-the-point message.

"in pain please help". Sent. Then, a few seconds later:

"i amin my bthroom"

I quickly set my phone down after sending the second message, feeling a wave of nausea overwhelm me as I shuddered again from the pain. Surely those messages made enough sense? I wasn't going to bother explaining more in my current state. I didn't want to worry anyone too much, but at the same time, I did not have the capacity to care as much as I usually do. So, I simply waited.

...

Lucifer's DDD buzzed, making the desk vibrate slightly and startling him out of his trance. He sighed. Who had gotten in trouble this time? He had enough work to do without someone causing a ruckus.

Opening his device, he noticed two messages from their human exchange student. They didn't typically message him when they knew he was working, so this came as a surprise to him.

His mind paused for a moment as he stared at the texts, deciphering them. They... had some sort of pain? That they presumably needed help alleviating? A large part of him wondered if this was a prank of some sort, but his pride wouldn't allow him to ignore the messages after the exchange student specifically messaged *him* for help.

Lucifer sighed as he got up from his chair swiftly, taking long strides down the hallway and to the exchange student's room. What kind of pain was it? How did it come about? Were there some demons he should take care of for them? He would have to question them thoroughly about this later.

Lucifer knocked on the door to their bedroom, but did not wait longer than two seconds to come in anyway. Homework lay scattered on their table and their school bag laid on the floor by the chairs, but the human was nowhere tk be found in the main room. He nodded to himself, then went over to their closed bathroom door where they said they were previously.

"_____, I am here. You said you needed help?" Lucifer asked, trying not to let care seep into his tone too much in case this was a prank, though that did seem more unlikely the more he thought about the situation.

"Luci..! I'm just... having a bout of pain... could you alleviate it in any way..? I don't have my painkillers like usual..." their voice warbled as they responded in a quiet tone, words spaced out awkwardly. Lucifer paused for a moment and grew red at the use of a nickname, but decided to not mention it.

"Of course I can. May I come in?" He asked politely, already resting a hand on the door handle anyway.

"Yes please..." they replied, at which he opened the door immediately. Lucifer expected to see a human in pain, expected them to at least be sitting up. Instead, the human lay curled on their side in the corner of the room by the bathtub, clutching part of the bathroom rug with one hand and their stomach with the other. He noticed they did not have any visible injuries, which was curious. They gave him a weak smile and sat upright for a moment before their face blanched, causing them to quickly lay their head back down. Sweat glistened on their forehead. They weren’t crying, but their eyebrows were furrowed and their eyes glistened with a pain too strong for tears.

"Sorry I'm like this... I don't want to bother you, I just..." they trailed off for a moment, closing their eyes as they shuddered again. "Could you just make it stop? You can get back to work after, I'm sorry..." they sighed, sounding extremely apologetic. Lucifer stared at them for a moment, at a loss for words. All of the human's typical wit and calm demeanor was nowhere to be seen, instead replaced with fear and pain. His eyes softened.

"Come here, darling." He said, kneeling beside them and shifting their head to his lap slowly. They groaned as nausea hit them again, jolting slightly from pain all the while. Lucifer frowned at this, furrowing his brows before he took a deep breath and began to chant a spell. Tendrils of magic flowed from his fingers into various parts of their body as he stroked their head gently, magic sparkling in the dim light of the bathroom. Lucifer felt the human begin to loosen up and sink into his lap as he continued whispering words in Infernal.

After a few minutes of chanting, Lucifer finally stopped as he noticed the tendrils of magic began to resist going into the human, signifying that no more physical pain of theirs could be alleviated at the time. Lucifer sighed once again, though not out of exasperation, but rather out of pity for the human. Considering how long he had to chant to alleviate all of their pain, he could not imagine what it felt like from their end. No wonder they couldn't get up from their bathroom floor to get help in the first place or to greet him when he arrived. What a poor human, having to endure that... they were truly much stronger than they seemed.

Lucifer slowly shifted his position so that he could loop one of his arms below the human's knees and one supporting their back, bringing them into a princess carry as he strode out of the bathroom. The human kept their eyes closed tightly, still taking deep breaths as they calmed down from the primal fear that still seized them even after the physical pain had gone away. They subconsciously leaned into Lucifer's touch, snuggling against his shoulder as he strode back to his room. Lucifer then laid the human on his bed, whispering something under his breath that caused the door to lock behind him so that no one could disturb them anymore.

Upon feeling themselves make contact with the soft bed, the human opened their eyes, observing their surroundings. Their eyes widened a bit upon noticing that they were not in their room as they expected to be, looking up at Lucifer for an explanation.

"I do not want you to be disturbed after... all of that," Lucifer spoke sternly, as always, yet his voice also had a softer edge to it now. "So I will rest with you and look after you now and make sure you tell me about this... this condition later." His tone left no room for argument. The human pursed their lips together slightly for a moment, then nodded.

"Yeah, okay... thank you..." they mumbled, then scrunched up their eyes as they covered up a small yawn with one of their hands. Lucifer chuckled softly at this.

"It is very late, so we will get you to bed soon. But before that, surely washing in my bathroom would be a nice course of action, no?" Lucifer asked, resting a hand onto their back gently, and they nodded in response. After spending an hour or more writhing on their unsanitary bathroom floor, becoming overly sweaty in the process, washing up sounded ideal. Yes, they thought, this was ideal. They smiled at Lucifer.

"Thank you, I'd really like that..." they said quietly, voice still a bit weak. Lucifer stroked their back slightly before withdrawing his hand, allowing them to get up.

"I will get things prepared here and bring your pajamas over. You go on ahead." Lucifer said calmly. "I'll be here." He added. The human smiled involuntarily at that, and set off to take a much-needed shower.

---

The human was now fresh and clean, blinking tiredly as they finished putting on their pajamas. Lucifer appeared from the bathroom then, clad in his own pristine black pajama set. He walked over to the human, resting a hand on their upper back and guiding them over to his bed as they stumbled slightly from mental and physical exhaustion.

Lucifer took his hand away and watched the human as they laid down and curled up on his ginormous bed, snuggling into the pillow like a cat. Lucifer smiled gently, grabbing the edge of the duvet and pulling it over the human, catching their curious gaze in the process. He said nothing, continuing on to tuck the edges of the blanket slightly under the human to lessen the amount of cold air that could get under the duvet. He then went to the other side of the bed himself, feeling the human follow him with their gaze as he laid down and pulled the duvet over himself as well.

Lucifer turned out the lights with a wave of his hand, plunging the room into near-pitch-black darkness. He smiled widely now that no one could see him do so, his lingering concern for the human overwritten by his happiness that they had chosen to rely on him and were spending time with him at this very moment. He stared at the human, suddenly noticing them fidgeting with their hands slightly and looking at him still in the darkness.

"Was there something you wanted before we go to sleep, my dear?" Lucifer whispered to the human,his smile audible in the gentle teasing tone it gave to his words. The human was silent for a moment, startled, before they responded.

"Could you... ah, if it's convenient, could you hold me...?" They stumbled over their words, flustered. "You don't have to for long, I just... want to know I'm not alone." Their voice grew quieter at the end.

"Of course." Lucifer said simply, smoothly pulling the human to his chest and wrapping his arm around them, encouraging them to snuggle into him. He petted their head as he continued. "I would like very much to hold you forever, if I could. Though I will settle just for holding you through the night" They sighed in bliss as they sank further into his hold.

"Thank you so much again, Luci... ahh, Lucifer." They said, words slurring together due to their exhaustion. He hummed in acknowledgement, moving on to rubbing slow circles onto their back.

"We will discuss what happened today when you are more awake, darling. Just know that I am always here for you, you just need to call for me." Lucifer said solemnly, closing his eyes as he felt the human's warmth against him. "And as a side note, I don't mind if you call me any nicknames, my dear. Only if it's you." He proclaimed, feeling them smile against his shirt at this statement.

"Well that's good... then, goodnight, Luci. Sleep well..." The human trailed off and closed their eyes, pressing a feather-light kiss to Lucifer's clothed shoulder before relaxing completely in his strong hold.

"Good night, my dear." Lucifer kissed the human's forehead slowly, pulling away after a long moment and closing his eyes. He kept a protective, yet gentle hold on the human as he listened to the human's breathing slow, their anxiety ebbing away. Lucifer felt himself beginning to lose consciousness as well, and surrendered himself to the pull of sleep.

The both of them drifted off together, feeling infinitely warm as they snuggled up to one another. And in that moment, they both felt more safe and secure than either had ever felt for a very, very long time.

#lucifer x reader #obey me x reader #lucifer obey me x reader #obey me lucifer x reader #lucifer obey me #chronic pain reader #spaceii's writing

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oneatlatime · 3 months

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A Precariously Stacked Pile of Random Season 2 Thoughts

These are notes I took as I watched the season. Usually after I’d already posted about the episode in question, and I thought of something I would have added to the post. Rather than edit them into my posts, I’m rounding them up and posting them all at once. As such, they are vaguely chronological. Unfortunately, because I made the notes legible to me and me only, I didn't bother to write down what episode I was referring to. I've also added some notes in as I was editing these notes. So this is also a bit of a scavenger hunt. Enjoy!

Iroh poisoning himself: dumbass moment or 5D chess?

My autocorrect corrects “Sokka” to Sock, and “Sokka’s” to socks. This causes double takes when editing.

Badgermoles have excellent eyeliner. Is that where the Kyoshi Warriors get their jaw dropping cat eye?

Why is Ty Lee spelled Ty Lee and not Tai Li? Why is Dai Li spelled Dai Li and not Dy Lee?

Sometimes Sokka makes me think of Mulan. Am I crazy?

Are the swampbenders’ moves based on a real martial art style too?

Why didn’t Aang use his swamp sense to locate Appa post-appanapping?

Where did Toph, who spent her whole life as a prisoner of her parents’ house and a moonlighting WWE wrestler until Team Avatar busted her out, get such emotional intelligence?

Why did Zuko’s dad put forward the plan to disinherit Iron in favour of him less than 24 hours after Lu Ten’s death? Why did he think that moving quickly was the right approach? Does the Fire Nation not do grieving periods? In what world was 'strike while the iron is hot' the correct course of action here?

Looking back, I’m amazed that season 2 didn’t end in Zuko’s redemption. I didn’t much like Zuko Alone, but I was sure that a season that included that much set up for a Zuko redemption arc would prioritise finishing that arc.

I haven’t even met this Firelord guy yet, but I am peeved that that twerp has a name as cool as Ozai.

Why haven't I met that Firelord guy yet?

I really thought that the older brother character in Zuko Alone would make an appearance later on in the season, giving Zuko a chance to flex some newly acquired morals. But the parallel to Lu Ten and the general message about the evils of war lands better if we never hear of him again.

Zuko in the first half of season 2 had me so annoyed that I was incredibly uncharitable to him in my write ups. Reading through some of the stuff I wrote while watching episodes, I kind of wince now. Zuko in the second half of the season was much less annoying. Which I feel bad for saying, because he’s clearly not in a good place in the second half of the season.

I would love to know why the writers decided to have Toph and Iroh meet in the wilderness. I think it’s a good choice, but I want to know how they came up with it, and why those characters? Is there anything about Toph (especially at that point, when we’ve known her for 1 episode) that suggests that she and Iroh should meet? Or would get along if they did?

Zuko has so many rock bottom fake outs this season: Zuko Alone? Nope, he gets worse in The Chase. The Chase? Nope, he gets worse in Bitter Work. Bitter Work? Nope, he gets worse in the finale.

I’m still peeved that Azula won a 6 on 1 showdown. Sorry, but that breaks immersion.

I bet the Blue Spirit could make lightning.

If water is the element of change, why does the Northern Water Tribe have such strictly defined traditions? I get that it's literally the element of change, in that water can exist in different physical states, but shouldn't the metaphorical interpretation also be true?

I like that Toph can think like an Airbender sooner than Aang can think like an earthbender.

What is Sokka’s boomerang made of? Is it metal? Because if it’s metal, does that mean that there’s a blacksmith somewhere in the South Pole? With a forge?

I still can’t get over how dumb the whole eclipse plot was.

Suki is TINY!!!

I mocked this guy’s 80s aerobics video leotard aesthetic, and I stand by that mockery, because this guy is ugly. Those colours are awful. But do you know who else has those colours?

Jet this season fascinates me. He’s positioned as genuinely repentant and legitimately seeking a second chance and I don’t believe him for one minute. Why don’t I believe him? This show has a theme of learning from mistakes and doing better, so shouldn’t Jet be a perfect fit for this show’s themes? I should be primed to believe him. And yet I don’t.

I have to applaud Iron’s enthusiasm for their new life in Ba Sing Se. A lot of that cheer (at least before the tea shop) is put on for Zuko’s sake. I don’t know where Iroh gets the energy to keep trying with Zuko after years of minimal results, but I’m glad he does.

I think Aang and Ty Lee should hang out. They have similar circus energy. Or maybe it’s that they’re the only two characters in the show so far who are remotely playful.

Aang = surface silliness, core of calm. Not that the silliness doesn't run deep, but he seems to have an untouchable anchor of calm deep within that rarely gets disturbed. Gyatso raised him well.

~~*~~*~~*~~*~~Poetry bouncer ~~*~~*~~*~~*~~

I need next season to have more Appa & Mono subplots à la their escapades in The Swamp. Not à la Momo’s Tale.

Tales of Ba Sing Se definitive ranking: Momo Aang Sokka Zuko Iroh Katara & Toph

I love that Momo still sleeps in the Momo bag from The Blind Bandit

Are Suki and her warriors sitting in the middle of some Earth Kingdom forest in their underwear?

So are Smellerbee and Longshot just done? Will they be back in season 3? What happens to their life now? They are known associates of an enemy of the state who was just executed. It doesn't look good.

Everyone on this show has big ears. Zuko has the smallest ears simply because he has the least amount of ears remaining. But everyone else? Big ears.

Can I have more Gyatso? I forgot how cool he was. More Guru too please.

Hakodilf.

Everyone in the SWT has such wonderfully fluffy hair.

I like Sokka’s boots. Southern Water Tribe boots in general.

If this is the grand total of the SWT, I have some bad news about population dynamics.

Is there a proper naval term for what the SWT are doing? They’re a stealth strike force that seems to be going after individual enemy ships, using both direct and indirect tactics. Not pirates, because as far as we know they aren't going for FN supplies. They're doing what submarines do, but above water. There’s got to be a proper name for that.

Is there a raft of FN corpses chilling in the waters in front of the NWT's big wall?

I saw ATLA described as a show where all the characters are Asian-inspired people of colour, but isn’t Suki a blue-eyed redhead?

I had no idea that you could decline an Agni Kai. Zuko should have done that.

Why are the Dai Li so in love with Azula? I get that they're pissed with Long Feng for getting arrested, but wouldn't the logical choice be to direct their loyalties to the Earth King rather than a wildcard princess? I'm not going to pretend for a minute that the Dai Li are loyal to the Earth Kingdom or to Ba Sing Se, but the Earth King is a known quantity. Seems to me that it would be easier for them to re-puppetify him, rather than a FN princess.

Katara & Zuko bonding over their missing mothers is the same “makes sense until you think about it for five seconds” as Song & Zuko bonding over losing their fathers to war. Technically the same, sort of, on paper, but actually kind of rude to equate them once you know the full story. Same with the parallel between Lu Ten and the older brother in Zuko Alone. The proper dead mom parallel is Katara and Jet. Although Katara doesn’t object to the Zuko comparison, so I have no grounds to do so.

I’m really glad that Katara didn’t remove Zuko’s scar with her spirit oasis water. Both because she kind of really needed that water, but also because one thing this show has always done right is permanence. No quick fixes, no fake outs, no take backs. Lu Ten is dead, and he stays that way. Princess Yue is the moon, and she stays that way. Half a dozen people’s moms are dead, and they stay that way. Aang is the last Airbender, and he stays that way. Zuko is scarred, and he stays that way. There are no hand waves, no easy fixes. All the characters can do is learn to live with it, and go forward. And I’m grateful the show is like that, because that permanence, as well as being a good lesson to learn, functions as a reward for audience investment.

Aang did come to a crossroads of destiny in the finale, chose his duties to the world over his friends, and got aggressively slapped down for it. I have a feeling that he’ll take the wrong lesson from that, since he was already inclined to shun that path.

Overall Season 1 was prettier.

Ty Lee was the cause of more than one Beat Up Sokka Quota fulfillment this season. Make of that what you will.

Will Zuko & Azula spend season 3 bouncing between the FN and Ba Sing Se? They could be heavily involved with establishing the FN governance over Ba Sing Se, since the city is already inclined towards royalty.

Favourite episode this season? The Guru. The Blind Bandit and The Swamp are tied for second place.

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #season 2 #we're getting close to season 3 #just wanted to do some housekeeping first #I still think Airbender Sokka is underrated as a concept

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