#i wrote this a lil too quickly he was on my mind and i need to feed my brainrot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taintedcigs · 1 year

Text

✦ SHOTGUN | eddie munson x reader ✦

wc: 2.2k+

pairing: eddie munson x f!reader

warnings: 18+ !!smut, smut smut!!, MINORS DNI!! dr*g use obv, reader and eddie are both high, so high s*x! kinda dom!eddie but mostly v soft!dom!eddie, praising!! nicknames (doll, sweets, peach, baby, etc.) just prn without plot literally all i can explain, p in v, creampie, kinda breeding kink, unprotected s*x, JUST OVERALL FILTH MINORS DNI OR I WILL BITE U!!!

summary: smoking with eddie leads into something more.

authors note: omg i feel like i haven't posted smut in forever so i wrote this when i was high bc i was horny and i felt like it... this is proofread but i only read it once and i was fried so pls ignore any mistakes !!

eddie loved the days like this when the two of you were just lazily laying around together.

just a joint in his mouth as you laid in his lap, telling him how your day was as eddie listened to your words intently.

your mind was wobbly which each hit you took, so you were mostly mumbling about nothing now.

eddie lazily places his lips on the joint, taking a long drag as he holds the smoke in his mouth, 'c'mere.' his voice is timid but he catches your attention as you immediately look up at him.

and he is grinning like an idiot as he presses his lips to yours, opening his mouth so you can suck the smoke in, your mind fuzzy.

'moreee.' you whine again, and eddie blows another smoke, his lips pressed against yours as you inhale it, giggling.

'i love you.' he presses another kiss to your lips, 'love ya too, baby.' you murmur into his lips.

'you're s'handsome.' you say giggly, cooning your head on his shoulders, and you press slow kisses into his neck, 'and i need you, eds.' you murmur desperately into his neck and he's more than ready to take you as he groans at your words.

‘my needy lil baby.’ he hums, placing lazy needy kisses all over your face.

'what d'you need, peach?' he asks, his eyes darken with your words, 'need you...' your tone is needy and filled with desire.

he tilts his head to the side, waiting for you to tell him exactly what you need, 'need you to fuck me, eddie.' your voice is so alluring and he's so hooked.

he doesn't waste time as his hands make their way down to your panties and he circles around them, causing you to whine.

and without hesitation, his hands dip down your panties and he groans at your warmness.

's'fuckin' warm for me, sweets.' his fingers are slow as they work their way in and out of you, and you whimper lowly, your head thrown back.

'inside a'me.' you murmur and eddie chuckles. 'please.' your thighs are shaking and you sound desperate, so desperate that eddie realizes how much you need him.

'f-fuck, already s'fucked out with just my touch, baby?' he teases, and you nod immediately, he grips your chin harshly as you look down at him doe-eyed.

he takes another inhale from your shared joint, and squishes your cheek, causing your mouth to open slightly as he presses his lips to yours and exhales the smoke inside of your mouth again, you suck it in pretty quickly and your mind is cloudy again, you need him, more than ever.

'p-please, eds.' you whimper, pleading. and eddie's cock is straining against his thin boxers, your slight movements causing him to twitch further.

'you're drivin' me crazy here, peach.' he groans into your neck, his hands still working their way to your clit, pinching it slightly.

without a care in the world, he stomps the almost finished joint on the ashtray with his other hand, his lips are quick as they smash into yours.

and his other hand reaches for the condom on the counter but you quickly stop him, shaking your head. 'p-please, i need to feel you.' you mumble and eddie's mind is fuzzy, this time with the thought of fucking you raw.

'jesus, shit- are you sure baby?' his eyes widen, his hand on your thigh is dangerously rough, and you are already dripping.

'yes, eds, need to feel you fully.' you hum, begging. 'need to feel you fillin' me to the brim.' you groan.

's-shit, fuck- baby you're gonna be the fuckin' death of me.' he moans into your mouth as his lips clash against yours again, he's biting your lip, and his tongue is exploring your mouth, harsh and rough, but still so sensual that you can't help the moans that leave your mouth.

'move a lil', doll.' he orders against your lips and you obey quickly, once you do, he takes his painful erection out of his boxers, hissing as his angry tip faces you.

you attempt to give his pink tip a few tugs, your fingers sliding over his slit, collecting the pre-cum, but eddie's hand is quick to stop you.

'don't fuckin' tease me right now.' he almost growls, and you hum sweetly, while he adjusts you properly and slides your underwear to the side, placing you on top of his lap.

he groans loudly when you slightly sit on his cock, his tip barely pushes into you and your head is thrown back, it feels so good, just alone with his tip prodding your clit.

'i know you can take more than that, doll.' he teases, and you whimper quietly, as you attempt to take more of him, your walls rub against his cock as you try to adjust more to his size, you can feel him stretching you fully and you mewl on top of him.

'just like that, fuckin' take it, baby.' he grunts. 'look at how well your tight cunt is squeezin' me, yea?' he groans, his cock pushing further into you, and your walls squeeze around him.

'fuckin' made for me, s'fuckin' tight and warm, all for me, isn't that right, doll?' he curses into your lips, and you hum, nodding, your head swirling with the thoughts of nothing but eddie, and he loves it, he loves seeing you so cock drunk on him.

'all for you, eds.' you look up at him all doe-eyed and eddie thinks he's about to shatter right then and there.

you squeal when eddie sheats himself with force inside of you, it's painful at first but when pleasure takes over you, your eyes roll to the back of your head, 'how does that feel baby?' he teases almost.

's'so good, eds.' you barely let out.

'you feelin' full?' he asks, and you nod quickly, tears prickling your eyes, 'so fuckin' full.' you gasp when he grips your waist, holding you down on him so you can feel him fully.

'roll your hips for me a lil, peach.' his voice is commanding and you are more than ready to obey, as you start rolling your hips slowly on top of him, groaning loudly when his cock is painfully stretching you, causing you to accommodate to his size as your pain is now fully pleasure.

eddie curses as he lets you bounce on him. you're slow and eddie doesn't mind it when those pretty little sounds escape your plump lips.

eddie is big, granted, you always knew he was big, but feeling him this much when he's filling your tight cunt to the brim, makes you realize how big he really is.

and now that he's fucking you raw, with every slow roll of your hips, you can fully feel him, and his huge cock is stretching your walls.

your eyes flutter shut each time you try to pick up your pace, and eddie is about to lose his mind, you look so pretty, so fucking gorgeous when you're taking him, your mind filled with nothing but his cock.

'pretty lil' baby, takin' my cock so well.' he praises and you mewl on top of him 'such a good fuckin' girl.' he growls again and thrusts his hips upwards into you, and you let out a loud groan.

the coil inside of you threatens to break and snap, but you know you can only get there if eddie picks up your pace and fucks into you roughly, your slow hip rolls are not enough to get you to your release.

your eyes are glossy as you look up at him, and your toes are curled in desperation. you need to release, you're so close, but you can't quite get there, and tears are prickling at your eyes. 'eds, eds...' you whine in a soft pitch, pleadingly, and eddie almost chuckles.

'oh, peach...' he fake pouts 'i know, baby...' he taunts you, his hands cupping your cheek, 'you want me to make ya cum, sweets?' he asks, and you nod so quickly that you feel dizzy.

'you wanna cream my cock, doll?' you nod.

'p-please, eds, please.' you beg, feeling frustrated, almost about to cry, and eddie is hooked on you, he's ready to ruin you, make you cum till you scream out his name.

your begging is like music to his ears, and he's ready to comply everything you say, despite him being in charge.

'your wish is my command, baby.' he smirks, as his hips thrust upwards again, you whimper at the painful thrust, and it feels good, so fucking good, that you are mumbling his name over and over again.

and eddie doesn't hesitate when he starts pounding his cock into your aching cunt roughly, his eyes glimmer with lust when you mumble his name, he wants to hear it over and over again, your lips are in a perfect 'o' shape, and the image is etched into his brain, forever.

you are perfect, so fucking perfect and he's captivated by you. he's captivated with the way your tight cunt takes him in, so warm and fits perfectly, he's convinced you were made for him.

his groans are getting louder now, his pace is picked up, and his lips harshly press kisses onto your neck, biting and nibbling as you scream out for more.

's’fuckin’ warm, jesus, baby you’re drivin’ me crazy over here.’ he gritted through his clenched teeth. and you hummed in return, your toes curling up again as you know you are getting closer and closer, your eyes are dazed and glossy as you shut them.

but eddie’s hand harshly grips your chin. ‘nuh-uh, baby… need to see those pretty eyes, need you to watch me while i fuck your brains out and you cum all over my cock.’ he husks into your ear causing you to nod quickly, your eyes lazily blinking.

'see that, peach? see how well you're takin' my cock?' he hums as he thrusts again, his fingers grazing over your tummy, 'see how my cock is fillin' you to the brim?' he says huskily.

'mhm..' you nod, mouth gaping as you know you are about to release soon, eddie cockily nods, 'i know, baby... let go for me, doll.' you mewl against him.

'tell me, who's making you feel this fuckin' good?' he grunts, 'you, eddie, you!' you scream out, your hand wrapping around his neck tightly as you curse out, your mind dizzy as with more of his praises the coil snaps, and you moan loudly, your thighs shaking as you cum around his cock.

'oh god! you're so good, so fucking good, eddie!' you cry out. he groans when he feels you drenching his balls, 's-so good, eds.' you murmur again and your head falls into the nook of his neck, tired.

"god, peach, you look s'fucking pretty when you cum." eddie murmurs as he sheats his cock inside of you relentlessly again, you're soaked and your clit is overstimulated but you can't help the soft whimpers that escape your mouth.

'shit- baby, fuck! s'fuckin' tight when you cum over my cock.' eddie groans fucking you through your orgasm. 'not gonna last long, sweetheart.' he chuckles, he's about to explode from how your walls tighten around him, you're so perfect and he can't help himself.

'cum inside me, eds.' your voice is timid as you bring your head up to meet his lustful ones, you have a mischievous smirk and his eyes darken at your request.

'you sure, baby?' he asks, you nod quickly, 'im on the pill.'

'want you to fill me deep with your cum.' you add innocently and eddie is about to melt as he curses.

'fuck- you're so fuckin' perfect.' he grunts, his movements are sloppy now and you know he's about to cum.

'gonna drown this tight cunt with my fucking cum.' you roll your hips to help him get there faster, his grip on your hips is bruising but you don't care.

'jesus- fuck- i'm gonna cum if you keep doing that, baby.' he hisses and you , 'cum for me, eds. wanna feel you inside.' you whined again, your hips rolling in a faster pace now.

'shit- fuck- jesus fucking christ!' he cried out, his hips stilling when he finished inside of you. your walls tightened around him and a delicious groan slipped out of his lips, and he muttered your name over and over again, coating your insides with his cum.

you nuzzled your head in eddie's neck, while eddie was mumbling about how perfect you were, you giggled, as you mumbled compliments back to him.

you could feel his cock soften and twitch inside of you, he attempted to get up but you whined. 'noooo...' you pouted your lips, 'let's just stay like this for a while, pleaseee.' you pleaded, all doe-eyed and eddie knew he could never resist you when you were so adorable.

he gave you a warm smile, 'whatever my pretty girl needs.' he hummed, as he wrapped his arms tightly around you.

the two of you ended up falling asleep like that until eddie got woken up by your little whines as you shifted on top of him, his cock twitching for more friction, and begging to release as you slowly attempted to roll your hips and pleaded for a round two.

#eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson oneshot #eddie munson

2K notes · View notes

patrophthia · 1 year

Text

red ears, and redder strings | theodore n.

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: red string soulmate!au, fluff, slight humor, slight very slight angst, confused feelings, unrequited love but also not really?, not beta read

wc: 7.2k

this is a request ! thank you anon!! it’s so cute i loved writing this :>

there’s two OC, one of them is named mark, hufflepuff (based off of nct mark, i love that lil canadian guy) and elio. i also wrote theodore based off of nct’s jaehyun and sungchan hehe.

taglist: @mersmoon @pleasingregulus @l--absinthe

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let faith decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guards by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laugh at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impress. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Tug. Tug. Tug. Blaise has been tugging at Theodore's pinky for the last five minutes now. Doing it over and over just to get a rise out of the brunet. But Theodore, quite honestly, couldn't care less as he watched the string tied around his pinky finger bounce with each pull of Zabini's hand.

Blaise, like the menace he is, enjoys bothering his best friend by pulling at the red string of his, but seeing as he couldn't actually see the string, the Slytherin has settled with just laying on Theodore's bed and repeatedly pulling at his pinky which sported the string instead.

"Honestly Nott, why are you so against finding your soulmate? We both know they're in this school so why won't you just make the effort to find them?" Blaise asks, pulling at his pale pinky once more. "Here I am, balls deep into finding mine and I find out that they're all the way in Durmstrang. Do you realise just how lucky you are?"

"Zabini stop," their other dorm mate, Elio, tsked. "Maybe he's just not ready to find them yet."

Blaise turns from his position on Theodore's bed to look at Elio. Retorting, "or maybe he just doesn't want to find them?"

"And that's okay," Elio replied with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure he has a reason."

Blaise's attention shifts back to Theodore. "And that is?"

Theodore clears his throat, "I just don't want one."

Blaise squints his eyes, "uh huh," he lets out in disbelief. "Somehow I don't believe that."

"Okay," he murmurs, "I just don't like the concept of soulmates."

"And that's all to it?" Elio asks, fixing his tie as he listens into Theodore and Blaise's conversation.

"Yes." And when neither Blaise nor Elio seemed to believe him, he added. "And I'm tired of people pretending to be my soulmate despite the fact that I could clearly see they aren't."

"People have done that?" Elio asked, perplexed at the complex.

"For the right price people would do anything." Theodore mumbled, and when he noticed that Elio was heading out the door, he asked. "Where are you going?"

"I'm meeting Mark at the library," Elio says with a blissful smile. "I'll see you at dinner."

When Elio finally leaves, Blaise turns to Theodore with a dumbfounded look. "Mark?"

Theodore feels his pinky being pulled once more. "His soulmate."

On the other side of the castle, Mark watches as I throw my head on the table —albeit, dramatically, a groan slipping from my lips. Mark giggles, his nose scrunching along with it as he asks me what was wrong.

I lift my left hand up and into his line of sight, his giggles turning into a full blown laugh as my pinky pulls itself over and over in the same direction. "They're doing it again?"

"They're doing it again," I mumbled, lifting my head back up to look at my finger. "It's so annoying. I'm going to punch their face in the second I see them."

"That's a bit extreme," Mark says lightly. "Just tell them to stop doing it or something."

"Why do that when I can result to violence." I replied, tugging at the string as a sign for them to stop. "They do it all the time, it's so irritating."

"Well at least you know they're close by," Mark states, going back to his book. "Or else you wouldn't be able to even feel their pulls."

"Yeah." I nodded. "I guess that's something."

"What?" Mark asks, sensing a slight shift in the atmosphere. "Do you not want to find them?"

I shrug, "not really."

"Why not?" Mark follows up, abandoning his work completely.

"I just think that I shouldn't let the universe decide on who I spend the rest of my life with, is all," I say. "I want to make that decision myself."

Mark nods, humming, "I see where you're coming from." Understanding as ever. "But I also think it's nice that there's someone out there who will always be by your side no matter what, whether it be platonic or romantic, you know?"

"But that's not guaranteed, is it?" I counter. "I've heard stories where people found their soulmates but they didn't care for one another at all. I mean, at the end of the day, soulmates can't actually be soulmates if one doesn't reciprocate the other's feelings. So why try finding them at all if you're going to find out that they want nothing to do with you?"

"But what if they do," Mark argued.

"But what if they don't."

Mark sighs, "and if they do?"

"And if they don't—"

"Hi." I was cut off. "Shit! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you," says Elio, eyes wide and apologetic. "What were you guys talking about?"

"Soulmates actually," Mark says with a smile, his pupils dilating at the sight of Elio. "Why are you here?"

Mark and Elio found out that they were each other's soulmate on the train ride over. Elio couldn't find his friend's carriage on the Hogswart Express and we were lucky enough to have empty space for the Slytherin.

"I wanted to see if you wanted to have dinner with me," Elio says. "And I also wanted you to meet my friends."

Who were, if I remembered correctly, Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott.

"Oh," Mark glances at me, then back at Elio. "This afternoon?"

"Yeah," Elio nodded. And I sense that he wanted to add 'when else' but held back against it. "At the Slytherin table, Is that okay?"

"Sure," Mark says, nodding quickly. "I'll see you."

Elio breaks into a smile, bidding a goodbye as he turns on his heels. "You're coming with me," Mark says the second Elio was far enough to not overhear us. "No arguments."

Two Hufflepuffs sitting idly chatting with four well known Slytherins must've been a weird sight for anyone that passes by. But Mark was having a fun time and that's all that matters.

Or to me at least. Mark sat to my left, with Elio sitting opposite him. Zabini was on my right, with Malfoy in front of him; leaving Nott right in front of me.

"Are you taking potions?" Zabini asks, trying to make conversation, seeing as Mark and Elio were the only people in this table who actually knew one another.

"Yep," I replied, placing my utensils down. "Are you?"

"The four of us are," Malfoy snickered. "At least there's two more tolerable people in that class with us."

Glad to know Malfoy found Mark and I tolerable. "So . . ." I drew out, thinking of anything we could chat about. "What did you guys do this summer?"

"Blaise dragged us to Europe to find his soulmate," Malfoy answered bitterly.

"Oh." The better part of me was intrigued, wanting to know if he did find them. I turned to Zabini beside me. "Did you find them?"

"No," he says, a slightly disappointed look on his face. "Too many students at Durmstrang and too little time."

"Well there's always next year," I say, trying to encourage him.

Zabini hums in agreement. "What about you? Have you found yours yet?"

Elio called out my name before I could answer his friend, and when I turned to him, he held out a goblet filled with pumpkin juice for me to take. Reaching for the glass, I felt a tug at my pinkie but paid no heed to it as I took the goblet from Elio's hand. Resting it on the table, my eyes caught onto a twinkle of red glowing right in front of me.

With furrowed brows, my line of sight found its way to the seat opposing mine, and along with it, the person who took the spot. Red string wrapped around his left pinkie, just like mine. Glowing slightly under the candle light.

Realisation settles in as I slowly look up at Nott, taking in his blank wide eyed expression that seemed to be processing the same information as I was.

Just to be sure, my hand reaches upwards to rub at my eyes before my vision falls back once more to my left pinkie, then the red string that connects me to the boy right in front of me.

Theodore Nott was my soulmate.

"Can you pass me the salt?" Malfoy asks Nott from his side, causing the brunet to break out of his trance.

Our eyes met for the briefest second, unspoken understanding warming up within me. And when Nott shifts his attention to where the salt currently resides, the tip of his ears shined as red as the string tethering us to one another.

The Marauders map is a great stalker tool to have. I didn't have it per se, but I knew people who did and they were kind enough to lend it to me when I needed it. I owe Harry a favour for this.

My eyes glance between the footsteps on the map tagged: Theodore Nott, and the corridor in front of me. Trying to be as quiet as I could with each corner I turn, if I were to get caught chasing some guy who seemed to be coming my direction at eleven P.M at night then who knows the kind of punishment I would get.

Theodore was walking with purpose when I found him. He walked with enough purpose for me to need to jog after him just to catch up. A hand latches onto his wrist, pulling him into one of the many secret corridors Hogswart held.

"Hi," I said breathlessly, panting as I watched him decide between fighting or flighting. He seemed to have found me harmless, settling on just gazing down at me instead. "Just give me a second to catch my breath."

There were many things he didn't say, just observing as I tried to calm myself down. I noticed a few things then about him, he was tall, lanky even, his doe eyes and hair the direct contrast of his pale skin, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut through wood.

"Uhm—" I stood up to my full height and found that I had to peer up at him. Freakishly tall motherfucker. "—I'm not going to waste your time by beating around the bush, so I'm just going to spill it."

"Actually I needed to have a word with you," he murmurs. And I have to reel myself over because that must've been the first time I heard him speak.

"Well, I found you first so I speak first," I tell him with a tight lip smile. "You can speak after okay? Okay."

His eyes squinted and I could tell that he was frustrated with not being able to get his words in.

"I'm going to need a favour from you," I say first, his eye brows rising slightly at my words. "I need you to keep us being soulmates a secret."

"It's not you, I promise," I added quickly. "I'm sure you're a great guy, you're very handsome too but I'm just— I can't just let fate decide on who I'm going to spend the rest of my life with. It's like I don't have a choice with what goes on in my life; and I can't ... have that."

"So I'm begging you, please," I plead. "Please, don't tell anyone about what we are."

"I can pay you." I offered. And If Nott wasn't so caught off guard by how I was able to say the exact things he had planned to say 30 minutes before, he would've laughed at the prospect of being paid when he already had a fortune in his hands. "I don't have much but I could also do your work for the year, just don't," I pause, "tell anyone until I'm ready, please."

Theodore won't admit it but he feels impressed. Because deep down, the Slytherin in him would've never been able to beg for something the way I'd just beg of him. And if he wasn't so taken aback by how I basically read his mind, he would've said something more coherent than: "Okay."

"Okay." I repeated his words, nodding. And even though he didn't audibly give me a reason to trust him on it, I knew that he meant it.

A part of me thinks that that must've been why we were soulmates because why else would I so blindly trust him on this secret of ours.

Platonic soulmates. That's what Theodore and I decided on. Well not really, Theodore had brought up the idea of cutting our soulmate ties completely with a spell he'd found but the Hufflepuff in me couldn't actually go through with the idea so we decided on platonic soulmates. Or just classmates who are hiding a secret that would blow up in their faces if anyone found out.

Hogsmeade weekend came faster this year; Mark and I (along with four other Slytherins who'd found their way into our friend group) were lucky enough to make the trip.

It hasn't begun snowing yet, although the weather sure felt like it. The temperature was warmer this morning, which was why I found it unnecessary to bring my jacket, and now, in hindsight, I see that that was a terrible idea.

It was getting late, and the weather was not getting warmer at all. "Dude, are you okay?" Mark asks. Dude must sound weird to the other four pure bloods. But dude, to me, was Mark showing that he cared for me. "You've been shivering for the past five minutes."

"I'm fine," I say, a clear lie and we all know it. "I'll just cast a warming spell, don't worry."

Mark's brow furrowed, "are you sure? Here—" he shrugs off his coat, "—just wear mine."

I didn't have to look around to know that the four Slytherin were watching us. And under any other circumstances I would gladly take Mark's jacket, but that was a somewhat intimate thing to do. Especially in front of his soulmate, so, like the civilised person I am, I shook my head and cast a warming spell on myself.

"Dude stop being stubborn, you're literally freezing."

"And I look good doing it so just take your coat, Mark." I argued.

"Okay then." He sighs. "If that's what you want."It's not. Mark pulls his coat back on as he continues walking down the Hogsmeade streets with the rest of us behind him and Elio. "So where should we go next?"

A grasp on my elbow, takes my attention away from Malfoy's answer to Mark's question. I look down, finding slim hands holding onto me. My gaze trails upward to find Theodore who had halted both our steps as he shrugs off his coat.

The brunet nudges it forward, wordlessly offering it for me to take. And when I shook my head, feeling uneasy at the prospect of making him suffer the harsh weather if I did take his jacket. He insists: "It's fine," he says, nudging it forward once more, the red string on his pinkie clear as ever. "I run hot."

"And is cold blooded," Zabini snickered to receive a glare from Nott. I stifled a giggle, finally feeling at ease with the two of them. Zabini's demeanour seems to soften at my half assed attempt to hide a laugh, and tells me to: "Just take it."

Okay. Fine. I will take it. The cold was biting my ass anyways. I reached out for the jacket but was pleasantly surprised when Nott helped me into it instead. "Thank you," I murmured.

Theodore, or at least his coat, smells like a combination of things that I could only assume he likes; things like: the sea, books whether it be old or new, earl grey tea, bearded irises, and vanilla.

Nott only hums at my gratitude, listening back into Mark's conversation with Malfoy.

"You never did tell me whether you found your soulmate yet," Zabini says suddenly. "Have you?"

"No," I answered, and unlike earlier, he actually believes in this lie of mine. "And I'm not really looking for one either."

"Funny," Blaise says with a mischievous smile. "That's what Nott also said." Not exactly, but it was something along that line. "Are you sure you're not each other's soulmate?"

From the corner of my eyes, I spy the tip of Theodore's ears flushing. The pink contrasting his dark features adorably. His face showed no emotion, his brown doe eyes rolling with feign annoyance. "I'm pretty sure I'd know my soulmate if I saw them as often as I see her, Zabini."

"Wish it were that easy," I mumbled, adding onto the illusion of us not being tied to each other. "I'll let you know when I find out who they are though."

"Really?" He says testingly.

"If you're so invested in it then yes."

He smirks, "let's hope you keep your promise then, princess."

Little did Zabini know, his promise had already been broken.

Faith must've been playing some kind of sick joke. I knew that I'd be taking potions with the four Slytherin, but for me to be studying a love potion on the first day I had class with my 'soulmate' was just plain evil.

And I think, something along the lines of Professor Slughorn making Nott and I be the first to take a gander at the potion, to smell it and to describe what it smelled like to us, was even more cruel.

A glance at Nott, and another at the brewing pot in front of us, had me taking in a deep breath as I prepared myself for what's to come. I took a step forward, Nott to my side, and leaned forward to take a sniff at the potion.

The first round of scents were pleasant, home cooked meals, the smell of my clean room after a tiring day, my favourite snack and the likes of it. Then the second waft of the potion hits and I wondered whether it was what I was actually attracted to or what I was supposed to be attracted to since all I could smell was nothing but Nott.

Or at least the scent of his coat; sea salt, books, vanilla and a hint of his (what I think is) argan oil shampoo, which I assumed I could only smell because he was so close by.

"So?" Professor Slughorn egged us on with a smile. "Tell us what you smell."

Nott and I shared a look and I knew then that we could only smell one another. "The sea," I took the initiative to speak first. "Vanilla."

"Is that all?" Asks the Professor. "Is there a special someone you smell?"

Yes. Is what I didn't say, only shaking my head as I nudged at Nott's side for him to speak next.

"I'm sorry Professor but I couldn't really smell anything." Nott says barely above a whisper.

Professor Slughorn's furrowed his brows in concern. Did Nott not have something he loved? "Nothing at all?"

"Not really," the Slytherin murmurs. "I could only smell her."

Her?

Oh.

Me. I'm her.

Okay.

"Really?" Slughorn murmurs, clearly fascinated. "Well isn't that interesting?"

Nott only hums, moving away from the pot and as I turned with him, my eyes caught onto the pink tinged on his ears. Cute.

I couldn't even take a step towards my desk when Zabini swept me away, Malfoy by his side. Zabini smiles widely at my curious expression, and I wonder for a second if Nott has broken his promise and told them about our secret. Cautiously, I asked him. "What?"

"We need a favour."

"No." Was my first and final answer. Zabini only frowns, not the slightest bit faltering his quest. "I need you to steal Theodore away for a day." He says, instead. I shook my head, repeating myself, "No."

"Oh come on," Blaise pouts, "his birthday's this Sunday and we want to throw him a small surprise party."

"Which won't be a surprise if he was there," Malfoy adds unnecessarily.

"Why can't you be the one to distract him or whatever you're planning on making me do?"

"Because he'll suspect it," Malfoy answers with a roll of his eyes. "Nott's smart, he'll get suspicious of us."

"And he won't get suspicious of me?" I retorted.

"I haven't thought that through actually," Blaise murmurs. "But! We need all hands on deck to plan the party and fill it up with things he likes."

"And I can't help with that?" I ask.

Malfoy rolls his eyes. "What do you know about Nott?"

That he is my soulmate. But besides that, quite literally nothing. Okay. One point to Malfoy and Zabini, I guess. I sigh, slowly accepting my defeat. "What about Mark?"

"Mark's going to help us set up with Elio."

"Why can't you ask for the house elves to set it up for you?"

"Why can't you stop asking us questions?" Malfoy snaps.

I turn to the blond, my expression sour. "Hey you're the one asking me for a favour here, I don't think you can afford to be a bitch to me right now."

Malfoy rolls his eyes again, more attitude than ever. "So you're going to do it?"

"I never said—"

"Great!" Blaise cuts me off. "Have Theo out by ten A.M and have him back by six P.M, okay?" He says excited, and yet not loud enough for Nott, who had been sitting three desks away from our conversation to hear. "Okay! And if you guys do anything, please use protection we're way to young to have kids—"

"Oh fuck off." With a chuckle, Zabini finally leaves me alone, dragging Malfoy with him. With the two Slytherins no longer in sight, my eyes drift towards the only empty desk left and make my way towards it.

One, two, table passes, until I finally reach an empty seat and I find myself meeting eyes with Theodore. His face remains stone cold as ever, only looking at me blankly. He didn't have to say it for me to know that was curious about what his friends had said to me.

Setting my stuff down, I sat beside him and I found myself mustering up the courage to go through with Zabini and Malfoy's favour. "Hey," I start, Nott now giving me his undivided attention. "Do you want to go out this weekend?"

His expression changes for the slightest second that if I hadn't been watching him, I'd have missed it. "I thought we agreed on keeping it platonic."

"Yeah," I agreed quickly. "And that's not going to change anytime soon. Think of this as us bonding as platonic soulmates."

He guessed he owed me that, which was why he stood outside of the Hufflepuff's Common Room idly, waiting for me to come out and get on with our soulmates bonding day.

A smile came across my lips when I spotted him, looking as out of place as possible. "Hi," I said, going up to him. Theodore didn't bother replying, only standing tall as he waited for me to lead the way.

The ride to Hogsmeade was awkward —as to be expected from two people who knew little to nothing about one another. Theodore climbed out of the carriage first, offering a hand to help me off of the ride.

Before we began our journey, Theodore caught onto my wrist with his right hand, his left reaching for his wand and wordlessly, he casted a warming up spell on me.

"Thank you." I'd be lying if I said that it didn't have an effect on me. "So where should we go?"

His lips pursed, thinking. "You didn't plan anything?"

"Not really." This favour was a last minute thing, I didn't have time to actually plan things out. "I thought we could just walk around and look at things."

Theodore wasn't the easiest to read, but I knew from the shift in his features that he was judging me. He then nudges his head to the side. "Let's get you something to eat."

Theodore took me to a bakery by the end of Hogsmeade, the shop was heavily vanilla scented, people coming in and out every second. Nott ordered a vanilla danish, then another when he looked at my face.

I ordered my pastries, and reached into my bag for the sickles I needed. Before I could actually get it out though, Theodore was already pulling me to the side, mumbling a "don't bother" as the next customer made their order.

I frown, handing out the few sickles I owed towards him, he took a glance at my hand, then back to my face. "What did I just say?"

"I can't just let you pay for me."

He didn't say anything, but his expression alone suggests that he won't be taking my money anytime soon.

"Seriously, dude, I can't just let you pay for me."

"Let's go," Theodore deflects, taking a parcel filled with our purchases when the shop's clerk handed it out to us.

I followed after him, not before attempting to shove my money into his pockets and failing to do so when he shifted away from me. "You're being rude."

"Oh I'm being rude?" Theodore scoffs, and I think that that must've been the first time I hear real emotions in his voice. "For paying for you?"

"Yeah," I replied. "Paying for someone is only nice when they want you to pay for them."

"Well," he murmurs. "What's so wrong with me paying for you when you want me to pay for you."

"Don't gaslight me!"

Theodore smiles at my word, a small laugh bubbling out of him. "I'm doing no such things." And then, he adds in a mocking manner, "dude."

What an ass.

I led Theodore towards The Three Broomsticks, if he wasn't going to take my money then I'll just have to get him something in return. I ordered two butterbeers as he began unwrapping our pastries.

He handed mine to me and dug into his vanilla danish. A minute passes, the two of us eating in silence and I wondered if I should've just taken him to a movie instead, maybe then it'd be less awkward.

The butter beer arrives and I took a sip, wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after. "You have a little something—" my finger points towards my upper lips "—there."

He made quick work in wiping it off, eyes casting down as he turned his head to pick up a tissue paper. His red ears made a reappearance then, embarrassed as ever.

After we finished our meals, Theodore excuses himself as he heads towards the bathroom. I think then that this was the perfect opportunity; I called out to one of the shop's clerks and when they approached, I asked for the check.

The shop clerk, an elderly lady, frowns, "what are you talking about, love? Your boyfriend already covered it."

What? "I'm sorry, you must've gotten me mixed up with another table, I haven't paid yet."

"No?" She frowns. "The brunet, pale, about ye height—" the woman gestures over her head "—isn't with you?"

With me, yes. Boyfriend, no. "Did he pay?"

"Yes," she smiles, "just a second ago really."

If I could scream out of frustration I would. I glared at Theodore when he returned, he seemed to know what had happened as he walked with pride.

"You're not as smart as you think you are," he says, grabbing his things. "I knew what you were thinking."

"Well." I stood up, gathering my things as well. "What am I thinking right now?"

"What an ass I am." Smart ass.

"Lucky guest." I murmur.

"Is it now?" He replied testingly, taking my things from my hands.

I squint my eyes, looking at him threateningly. "I will destroy you, Theodore Nott."

"I'd like to see you try." The amount of stuff in his hands made him look ridiculous, walking out of the inn with little to no expression at all when he adds: "soulmate."

I returned Theodore to his friends by six, having snuck into the ladies room to send a patronus to Mark before doing so. Not a minute goes by when his patronus returns, a cheetah opening up its mouth to cheerfully say: "Okay dude, We're ready for you!"

I did what was asked of me and brought him to the room of requirements, Theodore trailed after me, clearly confused but never uttering a word about it.

Once we arrived in front of the door, I turn to meet his eyes. "Why didn't you tell me today was your birthday?"

He blinks. "It wasn't important."

"Your birthday isn't important to you?"

"No." He murmurs. "Why are we here?"

I push the door open, and it takes him a few seconds to realise what had happened. Elio jumps out, Mark by his side screaming as loudly as they could "happy birthday!"

Theodore stares at them for a bit before turning to me, "is that why you spent the day with me?" He asks first. "They put you up to this?"

If I heard disappointment in his tone, I didn't let it get to me. Mustering up a small smile, I push him towards his friends. "Enjoy your party, Theo."

Elio and Blaise swept him away, pulling him towards one of the corners where the snacks were placed. My expression must've been telling, of what exactly, I didn't know. But Mark seems to notice it, asking me in a quiet hush. "Are you okay?"

I nod distractedly. "Yup, why wouldn't I be?"

"I don't know," Mark frowns, "you look a little off."

I smile at him. Mark knows me better than I knew myself. "I'm fine," I reassured him, "just a little tired."

"Okay," Mark says, leaving it at that with a sceptical look. "Let's get you something to drink."

"Was today just a ruse to get me away from the castle?"

Theodore had found me an hour after we arrived, looking distracted as ever when he handed over a slice of cake he'd saved for me.

"What?"

"You didn't actually want to bond with me, did you?"

I thought over my options, should I lie to him or just let him know the truth. Deciding on the latter, I tell him: "yeah, Zabini and Malfoy asked me to—" the clench in his jaw caught my attention "—wait, are you upset?"

Truthfully, Theodore says, "yes."

To say I was baffled was an understatement. "Why? What's wrong? Do you not like the party?"

"No," he counters. "It's not the party, the party's fine."

A beat passes by, Theodore hesitating. And then, finally, he says. "It's you."

"Me?" Have I done something to upset him? "Did I say something—"

"I thought you wanted to spend the day with me."

"I'm sorry." I'm not sure why exactly I was apologising but it felt like the right thing to do. "But to be fair, you didn't actually want to spend the day with me, did you?"

He avoids my eyes and I knew then that things can no longer be platonic. "I think you should leave before I do something idiotic."

"Like?"

"Kiss you."

How does one respond to that? His ears aren't red this time round. The look on his face is torn between hesitancy and distress. And I was stupid enough to reach up to him, a palm cradling his face, meeting his dark eyes.

A second passes and when he doesn't make to move away, I stand up to the tip of my toes and press my lips onto his. Theodore leans down, easing the strain of my neck as he kisses back without missing a beat.

A bump of the nose causes us to pull back, looking at one another with wide blown eyes before a subtle glow catches our attention. Tied to our pinkies, the string glows red, a shot of spark passing from his end towards mine only for it to lose its light when none comes from my side to ignite it.

What the spark means exactly, I didn't know. But I will not spend another second waiting around to see what it might meant. "That was a mistake," I say quickly, gathering my things. "Goodnight, Theodore."

I didn't know why I didn't notice it at first, but as I walked away, slice of cake in hand; the feel of plastic beneath the cake caught me off guard. I bring it into my eyesight, a vanilla danish neatly wrapped with a note attached to its side.

It seems like you've got me wrapped around your finger. Do me a favour and don't let it linger.

Blaise had a theory. And that theory consists of his two friends who had yet to find their soulmates. Or so they say.

Gathered around the room of requirement were the same people who attended Theodore's birthday party, give or take five people less.

Blaise stands in the middle of the room, the rest of us lounging on the sofa as we watch him speak. "Come here you," he points at Theodore, then he turns to me, "you as well."

My nerves gets the better part of me, causing me to glance at Theodore for help despite knowing that we were both drowning in the same boat. Did Blaise know about us being soulmates? Did Theodore tell him about it? Maybe I shouldn't have trusted him so blindly.

"You two," he says loudly. "Have been lying to us!" And then, a few notches down, he adds, "I think."

My brows furrowed, feigning innocence. "How so?"

Like a magician, he lifts up his hand dramatically, then grabs Theodore's pale hand in it. And in my eyes, the string was as visible as ever. I think I know where he was going with this and there's nothing to prepare me for what's to come next.

"Pay attention to her fingers okay?" Blaise instructs. I feel faint, dizzy, all the adjectives for nauseousness as each second passes by. "Her soulmate pinkie to be exact."

This is it. This is when they find out and Mark hates me for the rest of his life because I didn't tell him I'd found my soulmate.

Mark frowns, his bottom lips caught in his teeth as he watches on sceptically.

Blaise pulls at Theodore's pinkie, the same exact motion he'd done on end for the last couple of months. And, just like it had before, my finger pulls to Theodore's direction. Blaise pulls at it again and the same set of motions repeats itself.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Elio spoke first.

"Well," I began, everyone's attention turning to me. "Because, it's not your fucking business." Mark stifles a laugh at my words. "Theodore and I chose to keep it a secret for a reason."

"And that reason is?" Malfoy chimes in.

I didn't have to say anything for Theodore to know what I wanted them to know. "We didn't want soulmates."

"And now?" Blaise follows up. "Do you still not want soulmates?"

"Honestly?" I say. "I don't know."

It takes Theodore five seconds to note Mark's arrival at the Slytherin table. And it takes him another three seconds to notice that I wasn't there with them.

Mark chats animatedly with Elio, not once pausing to explain my lack of appearance at tonight's dinner.

Maybe they've grown too fond of me, or maybe Blaise likes me more than Theo thought he did, because he was quick to ask Mark where I was. "Doll's, not having dinner with us tonight?"

"No." Mark didn't even bat an eyelash at the pet name Blaise used. "She caught a cold and asked me to bring her something when I get back."

Theodore eyebrow's knit together curiously. "She's not in the infirmary?"

If the people at the table noticed the hint of concern in his voice, they didn't show it. Well —everyone except Mark that is. A gasp falls from his lips, staring at Theodore with wide eyes. Did he fancy his best friend?

Mark catches himself, shaking his head as he explained. "She said that it was just a common cold and that it'll go away soon. She didn't want to waste Madam Pomfrey's time when she could be focusing on something more pressing."

And when Theodore's eyes narrows. Mark feels the need to clarify himself. "Her words, not mine."

Theodore stands up then, excusing himself as he tells Mark not to worry about me and that he'll get something for me to eat. Mark didn't even get a chance to remind him about my meds before he slipped away and into the kitchens.

Mark didn't stress over it though, something in him knew that Theodore would not forget my medications.

A set of knocks lands on my door, approximately fifteen minutes later. And with a groggy "come in" from my bed; the door clicks open, Theodore standing behind it with a tray of food floating behind him.

"Theo?" I rub my eyes, unsure of what I was seeing. "What are you doing here?"

"Mark tells me you're sick." Did he? "So I brought you dinner." That's ... nice of him to do.

Theodore stands awkwardly by the door, not stepping an inch into a room. A part of me wonders if he was a vampire, waiting to be formally invited in before he could actually do anything. "You can come in."

The tray of food floats over first, resting just on top of my bedside table. Theodore follows in after it, staying a few feet away from my bed. "Wait, who let you in? Through the barrels and stuff?"

"No one in particular." He says. "They left the entrance open."

That was the hufflepuff way of doing things.

"Well thank you." My palm lays flat on my bed, pushing all of my body weight to a seating position. "For this. I know you'd rather spend the night doing something more fun than doing Mark a favour."

Theodore frowns, coming over to my side. "Mark didn't ask me to do this," he tells me; his hand carefully reaching for my arm, the other pressing against the small of my back to help me sit up properly. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

My attempt to resist teasing him was futile, even sick and on the verge of dying, I still think that Theodore's reaction to things —if there was one that is— was adorable. "Awh, did you miss me?"

Theodore didn't bother to say no. He didn't have to, it was clear by the hesitant look on his face that he did miss me. Even if I'd only just seen him yesterday.

"You should eat," he says instead, the glimpse of his tinging red ears not missed by me when he handed me a glass of water. "Drink this, eat, then take your medications."

A roll of my eyes paired with an 'I know' has him standing straight. And somehow, I get the feeling that he thinks he might've overstepped my boundaries. Not knowing what to say —or do for that matter, I settled on telling him: "thank you, again. I really appreciate it, Theo."

Theodore hums and we could both sense that our conversation was ending, but, strangely enough, despite never knowing what to say in front of him, I can't seem to just let him slip away tonight.

A glance at the tray Theo brought, then another back at him, had me asking a question I might be regretting minutes later. "Have you eaten, Theo?"

His eyes fell down onto my hand, the floor, anything but my face. The corner of his lips twists, a small dent in his cheek barely hiding his attempt to bite back a smile. He knew where I was going with this. "No."

A shift to the side, a pat on the empty seat besides me. "Good." I say first. "We can share."

The string tied to our pinkie glows, and this time, unlike the first, the sparks meets in the middle, igniting brighter than it has ever done before.

Being sick gave me a lot of time to reflect. And even more time for me to realise that me saying 'I don't know' complicates things. Everyone seems to be walking around eggshells when the topic of Theodore and I came up and quite frankly I'm fucking tired of it.

Theodore likes me. We're soulmates. This should be easy. I know how I feel, I can make things work.

Like feels childish. Love feels too strong. Infatuated is what I'm not when it comes to Theodore. I care for him the same way he cares for me. That should say something shouldn't it?

What I recently learned about Theodore is that he takes up an entire table at the library. Just him alone, and the whole table that would usually host four students all because he works in a mess.

"Uhm—" he looks up at me. "—can I sit here?"

He nods and turns back to his book. Not moving a single thing to the side. I sigh, organising his mess to one side and making a mental note to tell him off about it later. But for now, I ought to get my feelings sorted out.

"I wanted to talk to you," I say first. Theo hums, signalling that he was listening to me. "Can you look at me, please?"

He looks up from his page and shoved his book to the side, giving me his full undivided attention.

"I thought about it and I don't want to be platonic soulmates anymore," I tell him.

He looks in thought. "So you came here to say that you want to sever the soulmates connection?"

"No!" I say quickly, eyes wide. "No, not that. At all."

He seems to know what was going to come next, the corner of his lips turning upwards but he stops himself, not wanting to get too excited. "What is it then?"

"I care for you," I tell him. "And if you still care for me, I want to give this soulmate thing a shot."

His eyes soften. "Of course, I still care for you." He replies. "And I'm assuming by care you mean love?"

I pursed my lips, going over what I wanted to say and being careful with how I choose to phrase it. Finally, I decided on: "Not love per se," I say first. "Just us taking a step towards it."

" 'course not," he replies. "Baby steps, right?"

"Right," I say, feeling awkward under his gaze. "Baby steps." And then, I added. "Now if we're going to make this soulmate thing work out we need to actually go out."

He nods. "I'll take you to dinner on Friday then."

"Sure." A smile creeps onto my face. "It's a date." The tip of his ears reddens at my words, cute as ever. "I can't wait to see your cute little butt then."

Theodore fixes me a look between amused and judging, he breaks after a bit, shaking his head with a small chuckle. Incredulously he says, "I can't believe I'm in love with you."

"Woah there dude, you're moving a little fast," I said with a small smile. "Slow it down a bit, will you?"

"Too late, my love." And if I had a small liking towards the guy, my feelings were definitely amplified by his stupidly dumb sense of humour. "I've already gotten your name tattooed on my buttocks."

— from bee: i havent wrote in so long, this was so fun!! i always love writing theo so this was just a blast hehe

notes/reblog/feedbacks are greatly appreciated!!

#theodore nott humor #theodore nott x you #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader #theodore nott fanfiction #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott #theodore nott imagines #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott scenarios #Spotify #theo nott x reader #theo nott x you #🧳: my writing

1K notes · View notes

turtletaubwrites · 6 months

Text

My Needy Girl ~ Part 4

Pairing: Zoro x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,707

This is part 4 of the Series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Series Link

Summary: You’re starting to question how safe your arrangement with your crewmate is. Zoro really wants to be the world’s greatest ‘swordsman.’ Someone on the crew might have heard you last night. Zoro might be taking it badly.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, Fem!Reader, 18+ Only, MDNI, Mildly Dubious Consent, Reader-Insert, Smut, Flirting, Accidental Exhibitionism, Mention of Masturbation, Rough Sex, Penis in Vagina Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Cock Warming, Dom Zoro, Swearing, lil angst, Casual Sex, Possessive Sex, Possessive Behavior, Hair-Pulling, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, Condoms, Shameless Smut, Friends with Benefits, Crewmates with Benefits, Relationship Discussions, Zoro's a straight to the point kinda guy, and we love that, but now he needs to figure out what he wants

A/N: Oops, I accidentally wrote way too much again. Some character stuff, more crew interactions, lil angst?, and some build up to future installments. But there is smut at the end, I swear! I hope you enjoy, I'm excited for what's up next! 😊⚔

Somehow you’d managed to stay awake while Zoro slept easily, resting his head on your lap. You would have left on your own, but you couldn’t leave without waking the sleepy swordsman. He carried you, and he would brook no arguments.

All that time sitting there had driven you a bit crazy. Your body was still sore from the mind blowing abuse, the orgasms he’d ripped from you. But your mind was still reeling from your brief discussion of boundaries, followed immediately by the most possessive sex you’d ever had.

That’s just sex. He told you he wanted to stay casual, you agreed you could see other people.

Not that you wanted to. He was right. You couldn’t imagine going to anyone else when he’d be here, waiting to tear you apart like that again.

This is dangerous.

What if I fall for him? What if he actually is that possessive, and it causes problems? What if I get hurt? What if I have to leave the crew because we can’t keep our shit together?

These fears had kept dancing in your mind, taking turns with your shivering memories of his rough hands on your skin.

You didn’t want to have these worries. You wanted to trust that he was honest with you and himself, and that you both could keep this strictly casual.

You wanted to keep space between you.

How can I be sure he can keep his own distance? Keep that possessive nature just during sex?

You’d managed to fall asleep at some point, til Nami stuck her head into your room.

“Come on, sleepy head. You’ve gotta get breakfast before Luffy eats everything.”

Groaning, you looked in the mirror. Surprisingly, you only looked half dead. You did what you could quickly, then traipsed to the galley.

Sitting yourself on the end of the table next to Luffy, you gratefully poured coffee into the mug that was waiting for you. Luffy scooted over to give you room before leaning over the table, and speaking with his mouth full.

“Hey Zoro, have you been exercising in your room lately? You’ve been extra noisy.”

Nami narrowed her eyes at Zoro while you took a sip of your coffee, pretending you hadn’t heard Luffy’s hilarious question.

“Yeah, actually, I’ve uh, been working on some extra core strengthening exercises lately.”

Usopp chimed in after chugging some tangerine juice.

“Mind not doing them in the middle of the night, green guy? Some of us can’t nap seven times a day like you do.”

You joined the group in laughing, and kept your eyes away from Zoro’s.

Sanji appeared next to you, setting a plate down, the delicious scent making you sigh as your eyes fluttered closed. Having Sanji as the ship’s cook made you feel spoiled.

“Good morning, sweetheart. I made some cinnamon syrup for your pancakes, I know how much you enjoy it.”

“Oh, um, thank you Sanji.”

His smile deepened, and you looked away from his bright eyes.

Then the whole group went quiet as Sanji sat at the table next to you.

Normally, Sanji didn’t eat until the rest of the crew was finished. He’d never sat beside you during a meal that he'd cooked before.

He reached across you to grab the coffee pot. The whole length of his thigh pressed against yours while he poured himself a drink.

“Can I have some cinnamon syrup, Sanji?

“You already ate 12 pancakes Luffy. I’ll make you cinnamon syrup tomorrow.”

You looked down at your tantalizing breakfast, body tingling from the heat of Sanji's firm leg still pressed against yours. You risked glancing up at Zoro, but he was too busy scowling at Sanji to notice.

You spent the day cataloging the seeds and dried herbs on the ship. There were a few that you’d had to argue with Sanji about, agreeing to split whatever you found for kitchen use.

Thoughts of the cook this morning made your cheeks flush, and you shook your head. Sanji’s just being Sanji.

You avoided the kitchen for lunch, enjoying a few snacks and tangerines on deck with Nami.

“Do the boys seem extra obnoxious lately, or is it just me?”

Your eyes widened at Nami’s words. You wanted to tell her everything, but didn’t want to risk her judgement.

“It’s hard to tell, aren’t they always?”

“I guess.”

Nami picked at her nails before eyeing you again.

“Find any cool plants on the last island?”

Feeling a soft smile hit your lips, you leaned toward her, and shook your head.

“Nope, just picked up some rosemary and chamomile. We’re always running out.”

“Ohh, did you make more of that rosemary hair stuff?”

Chuckling, you nodded.

“I have enough, I’ll make you some tomorrow. Chopper uses it too.”

“I can tell! He’s like a walking air freshener when he washes all that fur.”

Still giggling with Nami, your laugh got cut short when Zoro came out on deck with rage in his eyes.

“Someone didn’t get their beauty sleep.”

Nami had given a stage whisper, and Zoro scowled at her before starting his training routine.

You had to go inside, otherwise you would have been drooling on deck while you watched him.

Your work always had you bouncing between studying with Chopper, and making salves and tinctures in the kitchen. You chose Chopper today.

“Hi Chopper!”

“Oh, hi, Y/N! What are you working on today?”

“I was going to ask you. Are we stocked up on salves?” I’ve got more aloe for burns if we need it.”

“We’re all set! I’m so glad we have you on board, it really helps me focus on learning more with you helping me make such good supplies!”

You grinned at Chopper, his cute, sweet face had been planted into medical books when you interrupted.

You decided against spending the rest of the day in the kitchen. They can wait on their rosemary oil for another day.

By the time dinner came around, you were feeling more yourself. Until you walked in and saw both Zoro and Sanji look at you. Rushing to your seat, you knocked over your glass while reaching for the carafe of water. Luckily Robin’s many hands caught it. You thanked her, but she just tilted her head at you inquisitively.

There’s no way we can keep this secret for long.

You fought again not to glance at Zoro, afraid that one look would make everyone see what you’d been doing together.

Sanji appeared next to you again, and you startled.

“Apologies, beautiful. I was just checking that what you have is enough to satisfy you. If not, I’m sure I can provide something more to your liking.”

It sounded like normal Sanji banter, but your pulse raced when you met his eyes. They’d dilated a bit, making them dark, and you realized you hadn’t responded.

Sanji winked at you, and now you were sure he seemed a little more forward than even he normally was. Nami interrupted, saving you from your stunned silence.

“Ew, gross, Sanji. Quit making Y/N uncomfortable, and go bring us dessert”

Sanji kept his smirking eyes on yours for another moment before bowing, and excusing himself to the pantry.

You flicked your eyes toward Zoro, and caught him staring after Sanji like he was about to pull out his swords in the kitchen.

You made a face at your tea, and Luffy poked you with a stretched finger on the forehead.

“You okay, Y/N? Your face has been red a lot lately. Do you have a fever?”

You held in a laugh as Usopp scooched away from your potential illness, while Robin sent hands across the table to touch your forehead.

“Y/N’s fine, you boys just need to stop bothering her. Nami, why don’t you raise their interest if they don’t?”

You laughed at their outrage while Nami grinned at you.

Glancing at Zoro, you saw that his jaw was still clenched as he watched for Sanji’s return.

As the group stretched, some yawning and heading to bed, Sanji cleared his throat behind you.

“Y/N, I was hoping you wouldn’t mind helping me. I’d like to stock up on some infused oils so I don’t have to make them daily. Would you give me the honor of assisting me?”

You felt Robins calculating eyes, and Zoro’s penetrating gaze, but couldn’t think of a reason why you shouldn’t help out.

Sanji beamed when you agreed, and you busied yourself grabbing the tools, avoiding everyone’s eye contact as they left.

Zoro seemed to be acting possessive, but you couldn’t tell if it was just his general dislike of the cook, or if he would be this possessive around anyone you get close to. Or if he would want more from you.

You didn’t like the thought of testing it out.

I need to stop this now if he can’t handle being casual. I can’t risk that.

Sanji’s warm presence beside you was so calming. You worked together, talking softly, laughing at jokes, and grinning at his praise. He’d always been too much, and the way he hits on every woman in sight made your eyes roll. But he really is good company.

Finishing up, you carefully labeled each bottle with the date and ingredients while he started on the clean up. You joined him at the counter to dry the dishes, shivering when his fingers would touch yours for too long.

“Thank you so much, Y/N. Can I make you some tea?”

You returned to the table, watching him work after you agreed.

Sanji sat across from you, and the air seemed hot, not just from the steam of the tea.

“Y/N, I need to be honest with you.”

“About what, Sanji?”

He pulled back, looking ashamed.

“I, um. I heard your conversation here last night.”

Your mouth fell open as you remembered. Trying to get Zoro to talk about boundaries. Zoro rubbing your hand along his cock before dragging you out of your seat to go fuck in his quarters.

“Wh-Why did you listen?”

You felt very still, not sure what emotion to feel.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I was coming back to prep for the morning meal. I should have interrupted or left. But I heard, and I had to make sure you were okay. I didn’t like the way he spoke to you.”

You watched the muscles in Sanji’s jaw clench.

“Are you going to tell anyone?”

Sanji’s eyes went wide, leaning forward.

“I would never, Y/N! But I will kill him if he hurts you.”

You stared, realizing that he was completely serious.

“Thank you, he’s not hurting me, Sanji. We just have an arrangement.”

Sanji scoffed, and you raised your brows.

“I’m sure that Mosshead is perfectly happy with his arrangement. Happy to take and take.”

Sanji set his hand on the table next to yours, a few fingers trailing along the edges of yours. Chills ran up your body as you looked back into his darkened eyes.

“You deserve someone who will give and give to you. Someone who values your pleasure more than their own.”

“How would you- You listened to that too, didn’t you?”

He pulled his hand back, and ran it through his hair. He sat back from you, lighting a cigarette. I’m actually starting to enjoy that smell. Fuck.

“I know, it was wrong. But he was so rough with you in the kitchen. I was worried he would hurt you too much.”

Your breathing got heavy at the thought of Sanji listening in while Zoro fucked you into oblivion. Of him listening to your muffled moans and screams, hearing you beg for Zoro’s cock.

You met Sanji’s eyes again, feeling heat pooling between your legs. His eyes were trained on your parted lips, your breathing hot. Your brain seemed to shut off as other parts of you took the wheel.

“Did you touch yourself while you listened to me?”

“N-No, Y/N, I...”

His eyes looked panicked, and you watched his tongue push forward slightly to wet his lips.

“Please don’t lie.”

Your words came out strained, and Sanji glanced at your breasts as they heaved with your breathing.

“I-I’m sorry. It was so wrong. I just… the sounds you made…”

Your eyes flew back in your head, a small moan escaped your lips. You felt the table shift, as if Sanji had thrust toward you at your sound.

His eyes were heavy lidded, his mouth hanging open, but he pulled himself together.

“Let me show you, beautiful. Let me give you what you need. Let me take care of you.”

Sanji’s pleading made your skin hot, and you felt wetness seeping through your clothes at the thought of him taking you right now on the kitchen table.

But you managed to keep your head enough, trying to keep a fucking handle on something.

“I-I can’t. Not yet.”

Sanji stared, waiting. The word ‘yet’ seemed to hook him.

“I made an arrangement. I have to make sure that’s okay first. Then we can talk.”

You traced one finger along his hand, pulling it away before you pulled him toward you.

Sanji looked like part of him wanted to be angry when you mentioned the arrangement, but the rest of him seemed to be practically drooling.

I wonder if he’ll listen in again.

That thought sent you shivering as you went to find the swordsman.

You didn’t have to go far.

Zoro was waiting for you in the hall. Your breath felt trapped in your throat at his expression. He nodded toward his quarters and you started moving, his body radiating heat behind you.

When you made it inside, he closed the door quietly, then shoved you against the wall.

“Zoro, I- Zoro!”

You cried out as Zoro shoved his hand down the front of your pants, fingers slipping into your folds from how wet Sanji’s confession had made you.

Zoro pulled his fingers from you, and you slumped against the wall as he shoved them into his mouth.

“Zoro…”

“It’s all good, Needy. Go fuck the cook if you want to. I know he won’t be enough for your tasty, needy little cunt.”

You moaned, but tried to pull yourself together. Your voice came out high and breathy.

“I don’t want what we’re doing together to cause issues. Tell me if you’re not okay with this.”

“I’m okay, Needy. You can fuck everyone on the ship if you want. I know who you’ll be begging for.”

You moaned again as Zoro started trailing his hand down your stomach, crawling back down to your center.

“But Zoro, why? Why are you claiming me? We shouldn’t be doing this if it’s already causing prob- unf…”

Zoro had shoved two fingers inside of you, and was curling them right against that needy spot.

“You want me to stop, Y/N? You want me to stop giving you what you need?”

His fingers went faster, and you were panting, hanging onto the wall.

“Tell me you want me to stop making you feel good.”

You moaned, your body so close to the brink already.

“Well, what do you need me to do?”

“D-Don’t stop, Zoro, pleease.”

Your desperate whine made him groan, thrusting against your thigh while his fingers kept going.

With his free hand he dug through his pocket, and shoved a condom at you, before pulling himself out of his pants.

“Put this on my dick now, before I take you without it.”

He groaned again at the feeling of your pussy clenching his fingers at that threat.

“You’d fucking like that wouldn’t you?”

You scrambled to open the wrapper, crying out as you touched him, smoothing the condom down his length.

Gasping as Zoro withdrew his fingers from you, you whined pathetically, begging for him.

“There she is. My Needy girl. Come here.”

Zoro tore your pants off, then sat with you straddling him on his chair.

He made you lift up, gasping as you hovered over him. Smirking, he pulled your panties aside, and forced you to slam onto his swollen cock.

You felt tears stinging your eyes as you fought your scream.

“So good at staying quiet, huh, Y/N. Just a hungry little kitten, crying for some attention.”

You were lost, the feeling of his long cock hilted within you, but not moving, was making you feel feral. You tried to move your hips, to fuck him, but Zoro laughed and held your hips in place.

“Nuh uh. You’ve gotta earn it now. Just sit still, and keep my cock warm, Needy.”

You slumped against his shoulder, twitching with every slight movement. He was so long and it almost hurt, but you knew if he just moved a little it would take you there. You continued struggling for friction, but he just gripped you in place and chuckled at your distress.

“Wh-What do you want Zo-Zoro?”

Digging your nails into his arms to stay steady, you watched his smug face.

“I just want you to remember how it feels to have my cock inside you. I want you to think about it, all day everyday.”

You couldn’t help your whimpers as he leaned forward to breathe the next words along your neck.

“I want you to crave my cock, even when he’s fucking you. I want you to remember that no one can fuck you like I can. The cook will just warm you up for me.”

He laughed then, and bit your ear.

“Maybe I should thank him. He’ll get you ready for me. All warmed up, your hungry cunt dripping wet, so I can fuck you even harder than I have been. How does that sound, Needy?”

Zoro had thrust up into you to emphasize your nickname, and you were a desperate mess.

All you could do was drag your drooling lips along his neck and shoulder, scratching uselessly at his arms while you begged, practically sobbing.

“Please, Zoro. Yes please, fuck. I need you, pleeease.”

His hand gripped into your hair, and you stopped breathing as he stared down at you.

“That’s right, Y/N. I’m the one who can give you what you need.”

If you’d known how to respond, you couldn’t. Zoro used the fingers in your hair, and the hand at your waist as leverage to start shoving you onto his cock, over and over. You came so quickly, and he growled, invading your mouth with his tongue. Tears kept streaming down your face as he kept thrusting up into you through your orgasm. His rough hands and mouth kept you trapped on his cock, his tongue muffling your screams.

He pulled away from your lips, leaving you gasping.

“Tell me you need my cock, baby.”

You moaned for him, your body almost taking you there again for him.

“Finger yourself, and tell me how much you need my fucking dick.”

The demand in his words made your eyes roll back. You reached for your clit, slippery with your overwhelming pleasure.

“I love your cock Zoro. I-I need to feel your cock in me everyday, it’s so fucking good!”

Zoro groaned, his eyes clamping shut as his thrusts slowed, erratic. You could feel him start to pulse inside you, it sent you screaming while you came again. Zoro managed to cover your mouth with a hand while he fucked into you through his own orgasm and yours, until he collapsed against the back of the chair, your body slumped onto his.

Thoughts were out of reach as you convulsed in his arms.

Then you gasped as his warm palm started smoothing along your spine, then rubbed in gentle circles.

He kept twitching inside you, and you kept clenching around him, so he stood with a grunt, lifting you and settling you into his hammock. He cleaned himself up while you closed your eyes, still not back to reality.

Then Zoro was leaning toward you, running a hand lightly along your arms.

“I’m sorry I keep interrupting you when you want to talk.”

You choked out a laugh, and had to clear your throat a few times before replying.

“I have enjoyed the interruptions.”

His satisfied smirk made you grin.

“But we’ve got to be clear on this. As much as I love what you’re doing to me-”

Zoro bit his lip, eyes filling with heat again.

“-we can’t keep this up if it’s going to affect how we act as part of the crew.”

He furrowed his brows, taking a breath. You pushed through, trying to say everything before he distracted you again.

“I don’t think starting a romantic relationship would be smart. It could end very badly for everyone. I think a casual arrangement to fulfill our needs could be perfect, but only if we don’t let our feelings get in the way.”

He narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms.

“You just want to fuck the cook.”

You choked again, wanting to laugh, but not sure if he was joking or not.

“I want us to be very clear about what is and isn’t okay. What do we do if one of us wants to fuck someone else, or starts falling for someone else? How do we handle that, talk about it? What if one of us starts feeling serious about each other?”

Your face felt hot, but you kept going.

“I can’t risk losing my place on this crew. Even if it means I don’t get to enjoy our time together again. I need you to seriously think about what you want and need, and what your boundaries are.”

Zoro looked serious, almost sad.

"Zoro, I want to know if how you treat me when we, uh- I need to know how you feel about me, and us right now. Before we get in too deep."

Struggling to get yourself off the hammock, his rough hands helped you steady yourself.

You pulled your pants on, still wobbling a bit, before you placed a hand on his chest and looked up at him.

“Let me know when you figure it out. I can wait.”

You left Zoro’s quarters, and didn’t look for eavesdroppers as you snuck to your room.

Thank you for reading! 💜

TurtleTaub Fanfic Masterlist

Part 5

Buy me a coffee ☕🙏🏼

#zoro smut #zoro x reader #Reader Insert #Fem!Reader #Smut #My writing #mine #One Piece smut #Opla smut #opla zoro x reader #zoro x you #zoro fanfic #zoro fanfiction #x reader #turtletaub fics

323 notes · View notes

prettyoatmeal · 3 months

Note

hiiiii! i have a request for bimbo reader x simon?? (totally feel free to ignore this if ur not comfortable) like the 141 guys go out to a bar and simon's a lil tipsy so he calls his gf to pick him up? (ofc the guys dont know he has a gf) and she's like the exact opposite of simon 😀 and maybe she's not the sharpest tool in the shed ((:

love! - 🦷anon

Warning!! Fem reader, she/her pronouns used A/N: Anon i love you for requesting this. Bimbo reader owns my heart. I wrote this super quickly so please bear w me. Masterlist here!

It wasn't uncommon for Simon to be dragged along to the pubs with his mates. Have a few drinks alongside maybe a nice schnitzel or pie, just the usual normally. Though, not for Simon these days, knowing full well your cooking will bring him more satisfaction than the bistro's kitchen ever could.

After so long of service, all he wanted was to collapse on top of you and hear you squeal. He wanted was to hear you giggle that he's too heavy and 'Simon, get off! You're squishing me!' then eventually fall asleep to you cradling his head to your chest.

When the group begged him to come along, for 'old times sake' as if they don't go every time they're back from deployment, he reluctantly agreed even if he desperately wanted to get back to his girl. Though he couldn't deny the lingering feeling of being a little more homesick than usual.

They didn't know of course, but that wasn't to any fault of theirs. It wasn't a secret, nor public information. You just hadn't come up in conversation yet, and he wasn't one to spill his life anyway.

It was a miracle you two had clicked so easily, Simon always thinking he'd prefer a more reserved lover than you were. But he was enamoured with you, your bubbliness complimenting his silence.

He loved that you found so much happiness in your lifestyle, happiness in your appearance, wearing pink and short skirts and your wrists jingling with each step from all your bracelets and bangles. You were a stark contrast to his dull appearance, instantly brightening him up whenever you stood by his side. You didn't mind though, you were happy to be the one wearing bright colours for the both of you.

And when you, out of all people his team figured Simon's love interest could've been, they were surprised.

He found himself a little too tipsy, a little too dizzy to walk himself home, he was a little nervous to call you. Not because he was ashamed or anything, but just that he knew that he'd never hear the end of Johnny and Kyle's endless playful teasing.

With an old fashioned in his right hand and his cell in the left, he almost didn't want to put down the phone, struggling to not melt in his seat from the sound of your sweet voice talking to him over the phone.

While the boys were chatting loudly about how good the food is tonight, you were all he wanted. He couldn't help it when he was so used to you talking him to sleep about your day, the new shoes or purse you bought, what you ate for lunch.

Hearing you say "I'll see you in a bit, Si. Love you!" was only making him get more and more butterflies in his stomach by the second.

Walking into the pub, you stuck out immediately to the mostly male attendees. With your usual short dress that hugged your curves perfectly, a fluffy jacket and knee-high boots to match (which you obviously took off and put on again so you could properly press the pedals). You needed keep yourself warm SOMEHOW.

Looking around to spot Simon, he couldn't be happier once making eye contact with you. So when you walked up to him, Gaz, Price and Soap all exchanging looks, thinking you were perhaps lost. That was until their eyes darted to Simon as he stood up from his stool.

"Ride's here. Gotta go, lads."

"Did you say goodbye to your friends?" You asked him in a small voice, giving them a little wave and smile as your first introduction to them. And as he stood up, you wrapped your arm around his waist. Course, you wouldn't have really been able to keep him upright if your life depended on it, but it was the thought that counts.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Soap pipes up, a shit eating grin on Gaz's face as he spoke, Price more sceptical with an eyebrow raised, "who's this bonnie lass here?"

"My girl." His response was short and simple, "pretty one, isn' she?"

More and more questions come flooding from them. How long have you two been together, how come he's never talked about you before, how on earth did you two meet? Their curiosity had been peaked.

You happily answered their questions, obviously loving the attention they were giving you, though not without a few confirming looks from Simon, careful to not share anything he wasn't comfortable with. As you chatted with his teammates, his friends, the nerves he felt at the beginning had faded away into nothingness.

They loved you right off the bat, finding your outgoing and cheerful attitude endearing. Giving his friend a few cheers and comments, it was almost time to leave.

"Don't know how you scored such a beaut, sir."

"Aye, dinnae think you were the type."

"Take care of her, Simon." Price gave him a proud look that he could easily recognise even through his drunken state.

They were all proud of him, wide smiles on their faces, as they watched your smaller figure getting into the drivers seat of the massive land cruiser you two shared... and maybe a few laughs and snickers as you somehow managed to bump your head on the side while getting in, realising you weren't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed.

After making sure you were alright, his stomach settled. He was finally home with you, a warm feeling filling him.

#call of duty #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #Ghost headcanons #Ghost cod #Ghost x reader #Ghost mw2 #Ghost x reader smut #Simon Riley x reader #simon 'ghost' riley #Simon Riley fluff #Simon Riley smut #Ghost Headcanons #Simon Riley Headcanons #Ghost Imagines #Simon Riley Imagines #mw2 imagines #cod mw2

363 notes · View notes

cozage · 1 year

Note

Hi I reallllly love the way you wrote the reader with healing powers and I was wondering if I could take you up on your offer of continuing it?✨💖

A/N: A sweet (and lil angsty) HC list for how they’d react to your powers after initially finding out about them

Characters: F! reader x Zoro, Luffy, Sanji, Law, Ace

Cw: Ace and Law’s hold a lot of angst. All of them are a little angsty but Ace and Law have a significant amount.

Total word count: 1.3k

First part :)

The Pain of Healing Part 2

Zoro

Zoro isn’t the kind of guy to tell you what you can and can’t do. His lover isn’t weak, and he knows that you know your limits, so he never stops you. But he does keep a close eye on you, especially during battles.

He’s probably one of the few people who actually understand your pain and your sacrifice, and he understands what an insult it would be to ask you to stop doing that.

You all do have a mutual understanding though: he won’t stop you, and you won’t heal him. Your secret is safe for him, as long as you don’t use it on him.

He cares for you in small, quiet ways. He massages your sore muscles after a hard healing, and cuddles you extra close on the tough nights.

Whenever he sees a crewmember feeling particularly good after a fight, he wanders off to find you. He always picks you up without another word and carries you back to the ship, letting you sleep. He’ll tuck you into bed and leave you to sleep the pain away. He might crawl into bed with you, but you usually sleep better without him in moments like this.

He’s proud of you and what you’re willing to do for the crew, but a small piece of him is afraid that one day you’ll do too much, or something bad will happen to you because you went too far.

Sanji

Sanji has to bite his tongue when he sees you using your powers.

You agree to his request not to heal him anymore, and he breathes a sigh of relief when he realizes his wounds aren’t healing quickly without you. But when he notices other crew members wounds healing quickly, he gets a bad feeling in his stomach.

“My love?” he finally asks one day. “Do you heal others the way you used to heal me?”

“Sometimes,” you say. “When they need it, or whenever I can help.”

He hates that. He hates that you're being hurt, but he knows it’s not his place to critique your decisions, so he bites his tongue and he massages your body and after you’ve fallen asleep, he holds you and he cries for your pain, wishing he could take your pain away just like you can to others.

He doesn’t stop you though, or tell you that he thinks it’s a bad idea. You can see it in his body language whenever you talk about it, but both of you ignore it.

Luffy

Luffy doesn’t ask for healings anymore, but he never turns you down when you ask him.

When you find little cuts and bruises along his body, you ask him if you can heal it. He always gives you a wide smile and nods, fascinated by how your powers work.

He also knows it's a form of love you give him, and that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

He honestly doesn’t think too much of him “causing you pain”, even though nobody else on the crew will let you help them. Luffy knows you wouldn’t offer if you didn’t want to do it. He doesn’t ask for healing, but if you’re offering then he doesn’t mind saying yes.

The only time he will turn you down is when he’s in a battle and he knows how badly he’s wounded. He always claims he wants to beat the enemy on his own merit, but really he’s afraid of how much you’ll be hurting at his expense.

He’ll turn down your requests for a few days after battle, waiting for his bruising to go down and his cuts to start healing before he accepts your help. He only wants you to help with the little things, he doesn’t want to cause you actual pain.

Law

He waits for you to recover before he brings up your powers again. When you’re finally feeling okay enough to sit up, he pulls up a stool and puts his best “I’m-Your-Doctor-Not-Your-Boyfriend” face on.

“I don’t want you doing that again,” he said sternly. “Ever.”

“That’s not your call to make, Law,” you say sternly back.

He sighed, knowing what was coming. And it did. You all snapped at each other, arguing back and forth. Both of you were stubborn, and neither of you would yield in your stance.

Finally, after an hour of arguing, you lay back on the bed and turn away from him. You’re tired of fighting and tired of sitting up for so long.

“I just need you safe,” he said. “You’re going to overdo it and hurt yourself one day, and I can't-” his voice breaks, and you feel the guilt of making him hurt.

You turn back over to face him, trying to offer a compromise. “I’ll only do it when it’s necessary, okay?”

He nods at that, seeming to contemplate your offer. “And when I’m around,” he added.

“Law,” you warn. You know that's not a fair compromise, and so does he.

“Fine. Only when it’s necessary.” He doesn’t like it, and neither do you, but it’s the best you’re going to get.

He scowls when he sees you using it or when he sees your body weakened by the aftermath of it, but he never complains or argues. He has to admit, you do well to hold true to your end of the promise, so he never pesters you about it anymore.

Your powers just kind of acts as this thing neither of you are super thrilled about, but you tolerate for the other person. It’s better not to acknowledge it, even if he is really curious on how it all works

Ace

You and Ace fight over this topic. A lot. The first time was when Marco came to you, letting you know that Ace had talked to him about your powers.

You stormed off to find him, and a major fight ensued. Ace didn’t want you to be hurting yourself for other people’s mistakes, and you wanted to help people whenever you could.

It’s a tense topic of conversation, something you all just choose to avoid discussing after a while, because every time it inevitably leads to a fight.

Ace didn’t tell people, but he did ask your division commander to keep an eye on you in battle. “She’s been acting a little rash,” he’d say. “I’m worried about her.” Your commander came to ask you if you were okay, worried about your mental health. You had no idea what he was talking about, and he told you about Ace’s concern. That caused a pretty big fight.

He even went so far as to ask Whitebeard to have you transferred to his division so he could keep an eye on you. Whitebeard denied it, and asked you if you were having trouble in your current division. That caused another big fight.

You know he just wants to keep you safe, and that his intentions are good, but it still enrages you that he doesn’t want you helping out when you can. It enrages you even more that he’s meddling so much in your life.

Finally one night he breaks down, holding you tight against his chest. “I can’t lose you,” he sobs into your hair. Your heart hurts hearing him cry. You wished that the two of you could come to an understanding with each other.

“You won’t,” you whisper into his chest, tears springing up. You believed in yourself, you just wanted him to believe in you too.

1K notes · View notes

jake-g-lockley · 2 years

Text

Did You Mean It? (Poe Dameron x reader)

Masterlist | Playlist

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.3 k

A/N: Short lil thing I wrote spontaneously out of a lil thought, Poe my beloved <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Your eyes are trained intensely onto the monitor before you, your hands pressing down on the earmuffs of your coms. His face was illuminated by a big blast as a victorious smile bloomed. A joyous laugh rang through your ears, turning your stomach into an unstable rollercoaster.

“YOU SAW THAT Y/N?!” he yelled. “YOU OWE ME DRINKS!”

Commander Poe Dameron never failed to make your heart skip its way straight to oblivion. From the first second you met him, his aura drew you to him and his character made you stay. Every single day with him was like a new adventure and you wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Your admiration for him turned into love before you could stop yourself from falling into the abyss that was your feelings. You repressed everything, worried that if you had let anything slip out it would ruin you. He is your commander, your squadron leader, your best friend. You are his flight lieutenant, a pilot to him, a soldier of the rebellion.

The pain of wanting to maintain everything to be strictly professional and platonic was absolutely unbearable. People would shoot you with knowing looks when Poe would casually wrap his arm around your shoulder, bring you a plate of food or even joke with you. You reciprocated everything, casually of course, until people stopped batting their eyes at the both of you.

Internally, you couldn’t get enough of him. His laughter was your drug, his smile your light, his warm embrace your oxygen. You needed him to thrive, to stay alive. You tried going on dates with random people you knew, you tried meditating the feelings away and you even tried avoiding him but in the end, you would always still want to run your hands in his stupid crown of curls.

You switch to a private channel and roll your eyes at the pretty commander. “Maker, I’m never gonna hear the end of this aren’t I?”

“This is why you never make bets with the best, my girl.” he retorted cheekily.

My girl.

Ignoring the blatant thudding in your chest from his casual cuteness, you replied, “Ugh, could the next bet be something that I’m good at for a change? Let’s bet on the fact that you’ll clean your room if you lose, Commander Stinky.”

The Mess of Poe Dameron’s Quarters was a tale known amongst many at base. It all started when BB-8 blew a fuse and Poe had insisted he would fix him all on his own. It only took three explosions and two fires for him to finally let you come over and fix the poor droid.

“Deal. Mainly because we all know I’m good at everything. Get your cleaning supplies ready Y/N, you’ll need to clean my X-Wing too!”

“HEY! THE X-WING WASN’T PART OF THE DEAL!” you yell into the coms.

“Fine. Just the room. Then maybe you’ll start visiting me there more often?” Poe wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at the camera.

Your face burned at the thought but you brushed it off as quickly as the speed that the statement left Poe’s mouth.

“Maturity is unfortunately not your strongest suit, Commander.” you said grimly.

“So I have been told. Landing in a bit, see you then for the debrief?” he winked, flashing you his beautiful smile.

“Copy that, see you at base. Love you.” you say hazily, smiling at him.

You froze as your mind blanked out and your dopey smile dropped. Your brain replayed what you said over and over again like a broken record and you sank far into your seat.

What.

The.

Fuck.

Your brain literally couldn’t believe how badly your tongue betrayed you. Your hands started to shake and you felt cold sweat beading on your forehead. Your breath started coming and going in short puffs as you tried to gather your bearings.

Scrambling back up, you pull the mic close to your face.

“Commander?” you say shakily.

No answer.

“P-poe?” you whisper.

Poe had already shut his coms off and you heard cheers erupting as you presumed his arrival at base.

He might not have heard you right?

You straightened your uniform and slowly made your way to the main meeting room where Poe Dameron marched in from the other side, in all his piloting glory. You froze again in shock as you caught the emotionless expression he wore. You averted your eyes from him as he took his place beside you.

You could only hear the blood roaring thunderously in your ears as Poe headed the debrief. You wanted nothing more than to run to your room and hide under your covers. Once you saw people moving around, you realized that everyone has been dismissed. You were going to attempt to make a beeline for the exit once everyone was gone but a strong hand powerfully gripped your wrist and pulled you back.

You found yourself crashing right back into Poe. His free hand steadied you and adjusted you so that you were standing in the middle of his two feet.

“Didn’t say I was done with you.” he whispered. “What did you say right before I cut off coms, Y/N?”

You were shaking, your mind raced to the worst of conclusions and you realized that today might be the day you lose your friendship with Poe Dameron.

The hand at your snaked up your arm and cupped your jaw, tipping your face so that you were facing him. His eyes softened as he gazed into yours, your heart melting at the sight of the lovely brown orbs.

“What did you say?” He repeated, a little louder this time and your heart skipped a beat.

“Commander, it was a slip of the tongue, just an accident.” you pleaded, trying not to let your heavy breathing get the best of you.

“Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“I said, did you mean what you said over coms?”

Fuck it.

Yet again, your tongue betrayed your brain as fast as lightning, terrorizing your mind.

“Yea.” you whisper.

“Oh Maker…” Poe sighed.

He leaned into you and pressed his forehead to yours, your eyes fluttering close as you felt yourself slowly going into cardiac arrest.

“Say it again. Say what you said over coms again. Please?” He whispered.

“I love you.” you whisper back, in a trance.

“Again.” Poe said, let out a shaky breath.

“I love you.” you swayed with him as he caressed your cheek.

“One last time. Please.” he was the one pleading now, his voice desperate as he pulled away to look at you.

“I love you. I love you. I love-”

Poe cuts you off with a breathtaking kiss. If he wasn’t holding on to you, you would be best friends with the floor. You melt into his touch, binding yourself with him as your thoughts struggle to comprehend what was happening. He kissed you like you were water and he was a man lost on Tatooine.

“I. Love. You. Too.” he breathed out the second his lips left yours.

Your face erupted into a symphony of emotions and you wrapped your arms around Poe’s neck, hugging him close.

“I could sit here and give you a billion reasons why I do but I’d bore you to death. What do you think happened to poor BB?” Poe sheepishly said into your shoulder.

“WAIT! BB fused that chip because you were talking about ME?” you gasped, appalled.

“Yea.”

“You’re a menace, Dameron.”

“I’m your menace.” He said pulling back to look at you again.

Nothing mattered then. Your Poe was now yours and you had everything you wanted. Except-

“This isn’t a coup for me to clean your room right?” you checked.

“Huh, should've thought of that.” Poe says thoughtfully, earning himself a punch. “Okay! You win this round, I’ll get the cleaning supplies.”

“That’s more like it, Dameron.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Tagging: @ahookedheroespureheart @mintpurplemnm @delightful-kiwi @p0edameronswife @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @cherryesskisses @einno-arko

Reblogs are appreciated <3 love you all so so much *muah*

2K notes · View notes

dindjiarin · 2 years

Text

Six Days, Part II - (Sierra Six x F!Reader)

I wrote this because ✨️Six deserves a lil more than a kiss✨️ 😌 I read the first The Gray Man book, and some characterization is based on it, but mostly this is movie-based. Let's pretend Lloyd Hansen survived his ordeal, shall we?

A/N: I had not yet read Ballistic (Book 3 of The Gray Man series) before writing this so the unintended similarity between Ch 36 and my work here was unintentional. I'm gratified to know Court Gentry so well lmfao. 💀 My bad, Mr. Greaney.

Lil Spotify playlist I listened to while feverishly typing. (Wipe Your Eyes is a Sierra Six song, I said what I said.)

Beginning / Ending / Prequel

TAGS: Smut, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst, Six x F!Reader

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI 18+, sexual content, mention of rape (rape is not threatened nor occurs), drugging, blood/wounds/death.

WORD COUNT: 8.6k (yeah, I'm REALLY sorry)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIII

The room is dim when you wake. It can’t be later than six o’clock, but the bed is empty, cold where he should be. The bedsheets rustle as you twist to read the green-lit clock on the bookshelf. Your face ticks in confusion at the numbers spelling out 9:09 a.m.

Must be a cloudy morning. Too bad I can’t see out this fucking frosted window, you grumble internally.

Sitting up, you pull the sheet a little tighter to your naked chest and squint at the bathroom door, bringing it into focus despite your sleep-laden eyes. It seems completely closed, but if Six is in there, he’s unusually quiet.

You drop the sheet and leave the bed, looking for your clothes on the floor. On Six’s chair, a pile of material catches your eye. Your hand trails across the folded, new clothing; you pick up the top item, the tags still attached. A smile splits your face in two. He’d laid out a pair of plain white underwear, denim shorts, and a green t-shirt. You quickly locate your old bra and underwear and throw away the bottoms. You’re too uncomfortable without the support of a bra, so you put it back on despite its desperate need of a wash.

Once clothed, you knock on the bathroom door but it swings open with the contact. It’s dark and unoccupied. A sudden wave of fear hits you and you take a step back.

Where's Six?

Irrationally, your mind taunts you: Did he leave me? Get what he wanted and cut his losses? A small sound escapes you at the intrusive thought, but you remember the way he had held you all night, the gentle yearning of his touch, the devotion in his sapphire eyes. You silence the unhelpful worries. No way. That’s not him.

Shit, shit, did something happen? Oh, my god, I hope he’s okay. The fears cycle through your mind. He’d never left without telling you before. Not back at the original safe house, not here, not ever. Unease settles in your chest like a virus.

It was evident he had left and come back this morning to bring you new clothing, but where was he now? You move into the bathroom, quickly flipping on the light to try to dispel some of the dread. You drop to your knees and begin feeling around the floor as grime and dirt pile along your fingertips.

Oh, god, I bet it’s under this disgusting-ass flooring.

You lean left to grip the rough edge of the linoleum where it lies underneath the sink. Pulling at the aged material, it comes up easily enough, and you’re rewarded by a discolored section of hardwood floor. The linoleum slips from your dirty fingers, and as you reach to grab it again, a loud crash booms behind you.

The front door bangs open. You spin around, knocking yourself on your ass. Your heart fears it’s an intruder, but your brain expects it to be Six, mad at you for not hearing his knock.

As the door swings wide, you’re faced with an unfamiliar man, clad in a blue patterned shirt and slacks, standing with a firearm in his right hand. It’s the first thing you see, but it’s not pointed at you. The man looks relaxed - happy, you notice.

“Hey, doll. Been lookin’ everywhere for ya.” His voice is upbeat yet menacing.

“Whatcha doin’ to that floor?” He marches over to you, roughly grabbing your upper arm.

As his fingers dig into your flesh, you stare at the stumps where his little and ring fingers should be. He hoists you to your feet. You don’t even struggle as your brain tries to play catch-up.

“Who- the fuck are you?” Your voice trembles despite your efforts to the contrary. Your heart is throbbing, painful aching in your veins; your worst nightmare is coming true.

“You haven’t heard of me?” He sounds surprised. “Well, isn’t that hilarious. Mr. Moral Compass has been keeping secrets from you.” He makes a mockingly sympathetic face.

“Where is he?” Your voice cracks and pain pricks in your eyes, your vision watering. You’re petrified of this man’s answer.

To your great discomfort, the man laughs. It’s a terrifying laugh: somehow, all of his features seem warmed by his mirth, like he’s energized by your distress.

“That's supposed to be my line, buttercup.”

He makes a condescending gesture, “Someone saw you clomping around this hallway out here. Not very smart, are we? And wherever you are, Six is sure to be trailing like a sad puppy. But I’m not too worried about where he is right now; he’ll follow us, and that saves me quite a bit of effort. Not to mention bullets and bruises.”

It takes a second for his words to find you through the panic, but when they do, you’re nearly lightheaded with relief. You’d thought you managed and processed that first night well. It had given you confidence in your ability to persevere. But standing here, face-to-face with a man who seemed to know things you didn’t, who exuded the dangerous energy of a wild animal, you were frozen in fear. However, if Six was still out there, still okay, you had some hope. You had every hope in the world, in fact.

Six. Six, please. Please walk through that door. All your wits could offer was to repeat his name like a prayer.

“Let’s head on out, shall we? Car’s waiting.”

His grip on your arm tightens painfully, and you still don’t fight him. He steps toward the bed and, with a flourish, places a piece of paper on top of your pillow.

“MapQuest for 007,” he explains without explaining.

You know you can’t win a physical fight with this much-larger, armed man, but the dam in you breaks as he pulls you toward the exterior hallway. You’re already leaning forward from the way he’s holding you, so you aim at your closest target. Your right fist slams just below the zipper on his slacks and he exhales with a yelp, doubling over. He recovers too quickly, though, and whirls you around, leveraging your throat with his forearm. He squeezes and wins a pained, high-pitched rasp from you.

“Do it again and I’ll leave your dead body for him to find instead of that paper,” he says through gritted teeth.

You shiver and try to swallow, panicking when you can’t. He loosens his grip enough for you to shuffle along, and when he tries to walk you both through the door a second time, you let him.

You were right, the sky outside was blanketed by wooly clouds threatening to let loose a deluge. The old city you’d holed up in was quiet for the time of day, and no one saw the well-dressed man toss you into a waiting black SUV. Your cheek smacks the faux-leather gray seat, and you push your arms underneath your body to reorient yourself.

The air inside the vehicle is artificially cold and smells new. The pleather squeaks as the two armed men who had been waiting outside your room seat themselves on either side of you. You hadn’t seen them until the well-dressed man had dragged you from your shelter out into the sterile-looking hallway. It seemed to you that they were reasonably sure you were alone. There was no way he wouldn't have sent an entire team in if he’d thought the two of you were together, right? This man didn’t dress like it, but maybe he didn’t have the funds for a whole team. Six had mentioned to you once how expensive one mercenary could be, and the going rate for a whole group could feed a small country for a week.

A thumb and forefinger pinch your nose, and your mouth drops open automatically. Your hands shoot upward to fight off whatever assault is beginning, but then the agent to your left pops something small into the back of your throat. You try to choke it out, but he had thrown it skillfully, and you accidentally swallow. You lurch forward violently as the driver accelerates.

You gag but nothing comes up. Coughing, you ask, “What'd you give me?”

The kidnapper’s smooth voice answers you from the passenger seat, “The ineloquent call it the ‘date-rape drug’.”

Utter fear shocks through your body at his blunt words. You’re a chemist, you know exactly what it is he gave you.

He turns a little to face you, “Sugar, you look nervous. Don’t worry,” his voice is jovial, “This is a date, not a rape.”

You shrink into your seat as best you can, trying to protect yourself. City blocks quickly turn into dilapidated housing, then farmland since Six’s safe house was close to the outer edge. You don’t know anything about the country you’re in, so memorizing the now-green scenery would be useless. Instead, you decide to evaluate and catalog the men next to you.

The man on your right is tall and tan. With his ironically trustworthy face, you would’ve never given him a second glance if you passed by him on the street. He’s holding what you believe to be a submachine gun, and a pistol butt pokes out of his waistband.

Your friend on the left is his friend’s polar opposite. This man makes you feel like the kidnapper does, and your hands shake just by looking at him out of your peripheral vision. His sharp, pale features keep anger at the forefront. His dark eyes, though rarely on you, twitch with menace. He’s carrying the same weapons as his partner, but you see an added hunting knife hanging from his black cargo pants. Unconsciously, your weight shifts to your right side, trying to put as much distance as you can, though, of course, you know the other man is truly no better.

Heavy exhaustion suddenly falls on you like an anvil. Lethargy places immense pressure on your limbs. Your world goes startlingly black for a second, then you realize you’ve closed your eyelids. You try to lift them, but it’s so difficult. Straining, you see a sliver of blurry light, but your eyes return to darkness. It feels like a weight is pressing on your chest - like Six did last night. Delirious, you half-smile at the recollection. Your head drops to the side with its own weight, and your final conscious thought is that you hope you fell to the right.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Feeling more peaceful than he ever had in his life, Six had woken that morning on his side with your head on his right bicep. You were asleep facing him, your right calf sandwiched between his thighs, your hand curled on his chest. If he didn’t include every other time he looked at you, it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Six felt a sense of possessiveness surge through him; he was never going to let anything take you from him. If you wanted him, he would be there.

Six had never told a woman that he loved her. Certainly not romantically. He wasn’t completely confident in how it all worked, but he no longer wondered what it felt like. Six knew by the way he wanted to care for you as you did him. It was evident in the way he found himself pulling your favorite mug from the cabinet each morning before you’d even woken; it was evident in the way his body thrilled as he counted your not-so-sneaky glances at him. Six knew how powerful love was because he felt all other aspects of his life drop in priority to you. He didn't pretend to be good at it, but he couldn't stop himself from trying.

In a matter of excellent timing, you rolled away, tucking your head down and off his arm. He extricated himself from the bed, intending on performing a quick errand. He was incredibly energized; after yesterday’s long-awaited activities and then the full night’s sleep he’d gotten, he felt sure he could do anything.

After showering, he located an old, plain black tracksuit set that he’d hidden years ago in the bathroom closet. It wasn’t exactly clean after all this time, but it wasn’t the disgusting shirt and pants from the past few days which was all he cared about.

He thought about leaving a note, but it was so dark outside that he knew you’d still be asleep when he returned. And also, he had no pen. Nimbly, he moved to your side of the bed where he carefully tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his feather-light touch never waking you. You sighed into his hand as it curved down your cheek, and he felt himself twitch at the familiarity. He quickly decided that he’d be keeping you in bed today; his high energy would be put to good use.

Six casually moved out onto the streets of the old world city. It was just past eight-thirty. The air was nice: warm and breezy, hinting at the coming storm. It wasn’t a bustling locale, but its population was large enough to provide some cover. Six’s furtive yet discreet searches around the area told him that all was well, so he trekked through the city to a store he knew supplied women’s clothing. He figured your old clothes were no longer suitable - he himself had torn them off in more ways than one - and he had nothing in his cache that would be practical for a woman. He was still cautious, still calculated. If he needed you to run, you couldn’t be tripping around in too-long pants.

The brightly lit store didn’t have much, so he purchased the first items he saw that best fit the summer weather, making no guesses as to your size since it was something he’d memorized for this exact situation. He thanked the shop clerk in his native tongue, then took a shortcut back to the room.

He returned as the green numbers glowed exactly 9:00 a.m. to find you still sleeping as he had suspected. He laid the pieces on the chair and then moved to the kitchenette. His jaw set as he realized the food was entirely gone; there wasn’t any substantial meal to be eaten, and canned peaches weren’t going to satisfy the both of you. Grumbling, he took another survey to confirm your slumber, then exited once again, locking the door as he left.

On his ten-minute jaunt to the corner store, Six felt uneasy. Now he believed the electricity in the air had nothing to do with the impending thunderstorm. He felt the breeze rustle through his blonde locks and tried to relax a little. He had a few - well, he couldn’t call them friends - in this general part of Europe, but only one lived in this area. He hoped the man hadn’t seen him; or you, considering the man might know about the situation.

He’d run out of cash, and his nearest stash was about a four-hour drive away in Latvia, so he was forced to steal a loaf of bread and two chunks of meat. Six left his not-inexpensive watch as payment, but he regretted being forced to this level. He’d never stolen anything in his life (except the odd vehicle, those almost couldn’t be helped) and he hated it. He was paid well for his services; he never needed to steal. Every bit of decency he could afford, he performed. If you hadn’t been waiting, he would’ve contented himself with the peaches for the next few hours, but you were injured, and moving on to Latvia could wait one more night.

His walk back from the store was circuitous by habit. He took two extra turns and an alleyway before opening the glass-paned door to the building. The room you two had been sharing was the very first on the ground floor, and something was horribly wrong.

Groceries fell to the floor, replaced instantly by his gun. He swept into the room, then the bathroom, already knowing you weren’t there. A sharp intake of breath sounded as he realized the linoleum had been disrupted.

Thank God, you’d gotten into the safe room.

He grunted as he pried open the heavy trapdoor, already beginning to tell you everything was okay, when the dusty hole gaped empty beneath him. The breath heaved out of him. He cursed loudly and slammed the door shut with such force that it reverberated throughout the lower floor. He spun around and his eyes snagged on the paper positioned on the pillow you’d occupied only moments earlier. He snatched it up.

- Do you miss her like I miss my fingers? -

Below the handwritten taunt was an address. Six needed no further information - he sprinted out of the building and up the street.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Groggy and unsteady, your left eye opens a little before your right. Warm light streams from a small round window at the other end of the room. It’s dusty, and motes float about in the beams. Your hands chafe at the handcuffs, but the most uncomfortable aspect is the rickety chair you’re roped into. Your shoulders ache and your neck is pained at the position you’d been unconscious in.

Fear rises in your throat, bubbling like lava in your chest. But it’s mutating with another emotion you’re not sure of just yet. You rock forward violently and shift the old chair forward a little, trying to move toward the window. The impact of your weight rattles the rafters, and you realize that endeavor is hopeless if you want to remain alone. You try to scoot, using your untied feet to pull you along, but the chair catches on a warped floorboard, and you’re left stuck.

Panting from the claustrophobic panic and the exertion, you begin taking some calming breaths you’d read about once for test anxiety. It helps, but then you hear the creaking of hinges as a trapdoor falls away a few feet from you. The ladder slides down smoothly, and moments later the head of a man appears. His fit, sweater-wearing body follows. He glares at you.

“You got bits of ceiling plaster on my sweater.”

“What’s going on? What do you want me for?”

You expect him to say something about your job, to demand access to the research, to complete some of it yourself; maybe he wants you to oversee a project of their own. You have no idea and you’re not prepared for what he answers.

“I don’t want you at all, honey. Sorry, you’re not my type. I like women who don’t punch me in the dick.” He says testily. “No, I want your boy, and I want him to be sad. I had no idea you existed ‘til a friend snapped a few pictures of the two of you getting cozy.”

He unfolds three photos from his back pocket. The first is through the large glass backdoor in your original safe house, the telephoto lens capturing Six’s hand nearly touching your lower back, your head turned to smile at him. A second photo was taken from a distance through a window, and it shows Six sitting on the couch beside you, talking. The man holds up a third photo, this one of the two of you outside, Six’s face glows with that reluctant smile he favors, though it's much larger than usual; facing away from you, he looks downright joyous at something you must’ve said or done.

The emotion you’d had trouble naming finally identifies itself as you spit, “Fuck you.”

The man backhands you hard enough to split your lip, but he doesn’t knock you over. Tears spring to your eyes instantly, and you yelp. The moment this man had stepped through your door, you’d done your best to prepare yourself for physical pain. You were still surprised, still shocked by it.

The man crouches in front of you, his eyes level. Your upper lip curls into a snarl.

“I know Sierra Six. That man is a goody-two-shoes. Although, apparently he’s been lying to his lady love. See, I did do my homework: your employer’s security contract with Six ended a month ago. He’s been bunking with you because I sent him those photos the day before termination. If he stayed with you, I knew it was genuine.” He pauses, then jeers, “He doesn’t allow himself to get attached to people.” The man smiles, perfect teeth flashing behind pink lips as he waves the photographs, “But I found the one he has.”

Unable to fully comprehend what’s happening, you just stare. You’d been through quite a few emotions over the past twelve hours and the tumult in your head was raging. Your admittedly hands-off employers had never told you when the protection detail’s contract ended, they probably had just assumed Six would leave of his own accord. The house had been furnished with anything you would’ve needed so you’d kept on working, and your employers kept getting what they paid you for. As long as the status quo remained, no one would’ve questioned each other.

“So, you’ve got me here in this dry-ass attic because you don’t like Sierra Six?” Your confusion manifests with righteous anger. This man is using you, not for your brain, but to get to someone you care about.

He sharply raises his left hand as an example, “I fucking hate him, actually.

“Don’t your manicures cost less now?” You hiss venomously.

Your chair nearly tips when his hand connects once again with your face. You spit out blood, but you’re weak and it lands pitifully on your shirt.

Your mouth already open, you ask one last question, ”And when Six comes for me… you’ll kill him?” You are still angry, but your worry over Six causes your voice to break.

“All part of the show, babe. I’m not monologuing to you.” He shrugs, smiling as if he wasn’t just monologuing to you. He stands and jogs forward-facing down the ladder. You hear his rich voice say something about a knife, and your body goes rigid. More pain. Your heart rate skyrockets and traitorous tears fall.

Calm down, get calm, I can’t be calm, just be calm, this is insane, deep breaths, it won’t help, you’ll be fine, your thoughts race uncontrollably.

Stressed wood and hinges ring out from the ladder as he reappears with a switchblade. He squats and ties your ankles to the chair legs with little effort, despite your kicking. Then he pulls another chair from the far side of the attic to face you.

“Oh, I’m Lloyd, by the way.” He grins as he slices at your already-injured leg.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Though he’d brought a comfortable chair, Lloyd didn’t stay long. He made a few cuts, watched you scream and squirm a little, but then his stomach had growled. He stood, wiped the bloody knife on your denim shorts, and folded the weapon as he left the attic. He made a little quip about letting bed bugs bite, and then the trapdoor squealed as it shut, as he left you in darkness.

The window across the room is dark blue, now. You beg your mind to relive the previous sunset, but the pain in your wrists and your leg are agonizing. Lloyd had cut a shape into your leg, and you didn’t want to see it. You’d not looked as he worked, and you were unable to do so now. Maybe it’ll be gone by morning, you childishly wish.

Again and again, your mind returns to Six. As much as you may have had a right to be, you didn’t have the capacity to be upset with him. Certainly not right this moment, as all you wanted was to be secure in his arms, and it was unlikely you’d be too pissed later, either. Six was your friend. Sure, he was generally reserved, closed off - but those were his natural defenses, and it was impossible not to feel his sincerity, his regard. Six had stayed on without payment for an entire month. He’d asked for extra men, probably calling in a favor instead of offering a reward. Just because he wanted to protect you. If he’d felt it was best to keep the truth hidden, then the truth was probably best kept hidden. After all, the man was the best tactician around; even you knew he had a near-mythological reputation.

Simply put, you trusted the man unequivocally. You just wished that he would both hurry and stay away. If this lunatic managed to kill Six by using you as bait, you weren’t sure you could live with the guilt. Six spent so much time walling himself off from everyone, and you’d purposefully broken down those defenses. Now you were both in danger. Six was all you had, all you’d wanted, and now that you had him you were about to lose him.

You sat there as time slipped by, in the dark, crying, until your body exhausted itself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIIII

A splitting headache wakes you. Your neck is screaming at the position it’s been in for hours, and you feel a little nauseous. The strong light from the round window allows you to clock the time at late afternoon, and you regret waking. Your body straightens when you realize that the sound of the trapdoor opening is what woke you. The sound sharpens and you tense, waiting for more pain.

As expected, Lloyd’s face beams at you. Immediately, you’re on edge: if Lloyd is happy, you shouldn’t be. He finishes climbing the ladder, and when he does, he motions to someone else to come up.

“Guess who,” he raises his eyebrows conspiratorially.

“No,” you plead. "No.”

“Mhm. ‘fraid so.” He couldn’t possibly smile wider.

A blonde head that you’d recognize anywhere materializes. He’s shoved by someone else you hate to see: the pale man on your left. The pale man looks terrible. His face is swollen and bloody. Since the ladder rises away from you, you don’t see the prisoner’s face until the pale man roughly turns him around, but you knew it would be Six. He’s slammed into his own rickety chair. His beard is sticky with blood, and a cut near his right eye oozes more blood. His black tracksuit is filthy and torn, and his hands are bound in front of him with zip ties. The instant he faces you, he holds your tearful gaze, and he winks. Your eyebrows constrict briefly in confusion, but you return to utter despair quickly. Lloyd was never going to let you go if he captured Six, and you’re pretty sure he never even offered that lie up to you. Now you were both going to watch each other die. Your chest heaves in sorrow.

“I’m sorry,” your voice is a hoarse whisper, but Six frowns and shakes his head. His attention is forced away from you, however, when Lloyd steps in front of him.

“Wow, Lloyd, you should’ve squeezed the CIA for a better patch job. You look like shit.”

Lloyd laughs, “Aw, don’t make me kill her already. I was just getting excited.”

“Did you do that to her face?” Six asks conversationally.

“It wasn’t the only thing I did,” Lloyd answers suggestively. And though you can’t see his face, he grins at Six who barely keeps a leash on himself. He files that comment away for later fuel.

Lloyd begins to speak, cajoling as Six flexes his jaw, his expressive eyes never leaving the threat. “The CIA didn’t ‘patch’ me up. They’ve pinned that whole … situation… on me. Rather unfairly, wouldn’t you say?” He doesn’t give Six time to answer before he continues, “I have other powerful friends who aren’t hunting me for war crimes. But they don’t matter. They support my little personal revenge mission, although they’re not funding it.” He holds up his hands, “Don’t be offended I didn’t send a whole squad after you, Six. I’m pretty depleted after all your shenanigans. But anyway!” He claps his hands, “Don’t you wanna know how I knew?” He sounds thrilled.

“A little birdy told you?”

“Your friend Denver. Now isn’t that just the worst? He sold you out. ‘Six has found himself a girl.’ His plan was to live that night, but hey, can’t win ‘em all, right?”

Lloyd moves to grab his chair, and you’re able to see Six’s reaction. His face doesn’t change, but you know those eyes. He’s not completely shocked, he can’t afford to be in his line of work, but you can see the betrayal, the sadness pooling there.

Since he has line of sight on you, again, he takes advantage and the corner of his mouth quirks up quickly. The smile is gone before you’re even sure it existed - but that’s the second time he’s signaled you. Trying to keep me from panicking, as always, you reason. You give him an answering smile, but it’s sad, and he grunts in frustration.

Lloyd has his chair in hand, and he looks animatedly between the two of you - back and forth, back and forth, as if trying to choose. The pale man, still standing next to Six, laughs. Your disgust evident on your face, Lloyd makes his choice and sits directly in front of you.

“Did you miss me, honey?” He purrs. You know from his tone that everything this man is about to do has one purpose: to twist a dagger into Six’s soul.

“Didn’t really get a chance, asshole,” you pour every bit of rage and hatred you can into your voice. This man might break your body, but you’re pretty sure this level of anger will protect your mind.

“Let me see that six.” He orders, which stops you right in your tracks.

“What?” You ask, perplexed.

“The six! The six I gave you.” His bottom lip pouts, “You didn’t even see what I gave you?” And he points at your thigh.

Amidst the blood, you finally see the pattern he had carved into your leg. He hadn’t cut as deeply as your other wound, just deep enough to ensure scarring.

“You said something about wanting a six, right?” He plays dumb. “If that one’s not big enough, here, I’ll do another.” He lifts the knife quickly and you start at the sudden violence.

Behind him, you hear Six grunt, then an unfamiliar, more pained-sounding grunt. Lloyd doesn’t hesitate before he jumps behind your chair and sticks the knife against your neck. As he does so, you see the body of the pale man drop to the floor, his submachine gun in Six’s freed hands. Your chin tilts up as high as you can to avoid the blade.

“You brought a knife to a gunfight, Lloyd.”

“Quite the party foul of me, huh?” Lloyd rejoins. “Oh, well. That’s where your bitch comes in handy.”

Six doesn’t react. Lloyd's using you as a shield, but he is much larger than you. One good shot would knock him back enough that Six was confident he could reach you before Lloyd recovered. Six starts to squeeze the trigger when the knife leaves Lloyd’s hand, aimed directly at his heart.

Six bats away the shining switchblade with the gun, which sends him a little off balance. Lloyd uses his chance to rush Six. Like the football star he had been, he tackles Six to the floor. Six groans in pain as the wind is knocked from him, and a scream tears from you. At the last second, you remember that the other man in the car, the one on your right, was probably somewhere below. Surely he had heard the thumping, right? Why wasn’t he coming?

Six quickly gets the upper hand, kicking out from underneath the other man, smashing the gun into Lloyd’s face twice as he did so. Six is loath to shoot the man outright because he really wants to beat the shit out of him first. Lloyd gets to his feet at the same time Six does.

Frantically, you knock the chair over, and try to wiggle sideways towards the knife Six had hit. It was several feet away, very close to what now looked like a standoff. Six hears what you’re doing, and circles a little more to his right, putting himself between you and Lloyd. He thrusts the butt of the gun at Lloyd’s gut, but Lloyd grabs hold of it. Six immediately ejects the magazine faster than he’d ever made the move before. He releases his hold on the weapon, knowing it won’t make a difference. Lloyd gives him an eyebrow raise before tossing the gun down the ladder.

Your chair scrapes with every inch, but your desperation gets the knife into your right hand right as you hear the gun fall. You saw at the ropes around your body, then once free of that, you cut the flimsy material around your ankles. Unfortunately, you are still handcuffed to the chair’s armrest. Keeping the knife in hand, you lift the old chair and slam it against the floor, once, twice. Thinking better of that, you sit down and jam both heels on the underside of the armrest, hoping to force the slim piece from its spindles. That worked. Unfortunately, you are still handcuffed.

Six waits for Lloyd to swing first, and when he does, Six puts every play he’s ever learned into action. He swings haymaker after uppercut at Lloyd, most of them connecting viciously. Lloyd gets in several licks, but each time Six shakes it off with a growl. Hoping to shorten this dance, you hold up the knife, hoping it’s Six and not Lloyd who sees what you have to offer. They both notice.

As Lloyd starts to run at you, Six leaps forward, grabbing him around the throat by his forearm. He uses the momentum to slam Lloyd down to his knees. Lloyd twists and claws at him, but Six is stronger. To Lloyd’s endless consternation, Six has always been stronger. You gawk on in horror. You’d seen Six kill a man before, but this was different. This was personal, angry, justified. Six is silent as his arms strain, pressing every bit of strength he has into Lloyd’s windpipe. Lloyd is gagging, gurgling. It was terrible.

“Go!” Six commands through gritted teeth, and though he wasn’t looking at you, you obey. You didn’t want to see this.

You flee down the ladder, knife still in hand. Subconsciously, you take in your surroundings: a vacant, crumbling mansion. The white hallway was cracked, and moldy. No furniture could be seen. You could still hear Lloyd’s death throes above you, so you stumble along the hallway, desperate to end the nightmare.

Your right leg, so damaged, gives out and you hit the floor. You see stair railings a few feet away, but you can also see the attic entrance from where you fell, and you weren’t going anywhere without Six. So you drag yourself up against the wall and try to slow your labored breathing as you wait.

A few minutes later, a man dressed in black climbs down. Your heart pounds at the sight of the blonde hair. You stand, wobbling, and drop the knife. As he reaches you, he wraps an arm around you. His hand presses your head to his chest.

“Let me see your hands.”

You hold up your cuffs. He unlocks them with a small key you can only assume he got from one of the bodies upstairs. He nudges you forward, and you start down the hallway, then down the stairs. When you get to the bottom of the wooden steps, you see why the other man never came running. He lay bloody on the floor of the foyer. Six had killed him first.

“Didn’t know where you were in this big old house, so I made my entrance known. Lloyd would take me wherever you were. Amateur.”

Stepping around the body and out the front door, you hysterically giggle at the stolen car Six had parked normally. “You literally walked in the front door?”

“Yeah.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

IIIIII

Lloyd had taken you over the Latvian border by several hours, so while you were in the right country, you were still a couple of hours away from Six’s cache. As he drives, you curl up on the back seat, trying to relieve your sore muscles and your stinging leg.

It’s nearly midnight by the time Six pulls to the curb a block from his newest safe house. The streets were bustling with people enjoying their evening, and it wasn’t difficult to blend in. In the darkness, no one could make out your bloody leg, his bloody face.

Six breaks the padlock off the abandoned-looking building’s side entrance, then steps inside, ensuring it was uninhabited. There’d been no actual threats to your life besides Lloyd Hansen, your company hiring Six as a precaution over rumors, but Six was never going to take a chance again when it came to you.

He ushers you through the door, then tucks you into his side as he opens another door. It’s pitch black, and you cling to his jacket. You hear the door shut behind you, then you hear the sound of his hand sliding along the wall trying to find the light switch.

He succeeds and the room is illuminated in warm, artificial light. It’s another ground-floor apartment, and it’s similar to the previous minus Six’s favorite wingback chair. He takes your hand and guides you into the bathroom where you see the biggest difference yet. The bathroom is clean, spacious, and it has both a bathtub and a shower.

“Capital cities have the best safe houses. More people to maintain them,” he replies to the question in your mind. “Strip.”

Your head jerks up to look at him. He unzips his track jacket but leaves his pants. You pull the hem of your shirt over your head and drop the bloodstained fabric to the floor. Six crouches in front of you and unbuttons your shorts.

“I’m a professional,” he whispers, trying to lighten your wordless mood as he covers your new knife wound with his hand and pulls your shorts down.

He takes your hand to balance you as you step out of the bottoms. As he touches you, he looks for a sign of disgust, fear, something that will break his heart but make sense after what you’d been through.

He grabs a washcloth from the counter and wets it. He crouches in front of you again and begins softly cleaning the blood from your thigh, leaving a wide gap around the actual wound.

You’re a little unsteady after the lack of nutrition and the stress your body has undergone the past day, but you steel yourself for a moment: you focus on not freaking out, not crying just yet in order to take stock. You watched him kill someone. How do I feel about that?

In your heart, you know that it doesn’t change anything you feel about him. Six killed bad men - always had, always would - and you’d known that when you met him. Your torso shakes, nearly hyperventilating. No, the worst is that you could’ve died, you could’ve watched him die. You collapse onto his shoulders, your arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry.” He says, the timbre of his voice letting you know that he means it for all that has occurred. For what Lloyd did to you physically and probably emotionally. For not telling you the truth, but mostly for putting you in the situation in the first place.

Too emotionally distraught to check the words thoroughly, you try to relieve his guilt: “’s not your fault someone loves you, Six.”

Still not noticing your own words, you bury your face in his shoulder, and your tears fall freely. The noise he makes under his breath sounds affectionately amazed.

He stands, picking you up, and your legs wrap around him automatically. Your cuts are nearer the outside of your leg, but it still sends a jolt of pain down your limb when you use it to latch onto him. He sets your bottom on the countertop. One hand rubs your back while the other nestles into your hair.

He knows you’re in shock, and he knows you didn’t mean to tell him you loved him like that. It’s good to hear, and he can’t help the sunrise in his heart, but his primary concern is consoling you. Or distracting you, if possible. Early in his career, he had learned that the best way to move forward was to stop overthinking. Distractions worked well for that.

“Shower or bath?” He asks.

He doesn’t have an ulterior motive, and you’re more than welcome to answer with neither. But in his mind, if it comes to it, he could try to make you forget today for a little while. You sniffle as you pick your head up off his shoulder to see his face.

He’s looking at you like you just saved him, and it’s somehow exactly what you needed.

“Shower.”

You’d love nothing more than to be warm, bloodstain-free, and staring at Six naked. Without another word, he drops his pants and unclasps your bra. You push your underwear off. You latch around him again, and he carries you into the shower. You drop your legs and stand while he adjusts the temperature. The shower’s wide enough that you don’t feel the water at all as it warms up.

As the water begins to steam, Six looks over at you and holds his hand out, palm up. A smile touches your lips and he answers with his own as he pulls you to him underneath the showerhead. His hair soaks instantly. He rotates so your hair can rinse free of all the shit it had gone through in the last week.

Six takes a clean, soapy washcloth and stoops to finish cleaning your leg. He tries to ignore the shape that those cuts are in, but it’s still torturing him. He’d tried to forget it the moment after the words had left Lloyd’s mouth, but now he was face-to-face with the physical consequences of his feelings for you. He straightens up and lets the water get the rest of the blood.

You watch as his expression twists, and he won’t meet your eyes.

“They’re shallow. They’ll heal.”

“Yeah, right into my fucking name.” He begins washing himself as a means to avoid your face.

“It’s not your name." You cup your hand to his cheek. "Hey, ‘Six’ is not your name. Those marks will heal, and even if I’m still able to see the number, it doesn’t bother me.” Your voice rises with each word. You’re trying to tell him that it’ll be an incidental scar, and even if it mattered, it’s the pseudonym of the man who rescued you.

His stormy eyes meet yours finally, skepticism clouding them. “It doesn’t matter to you that you were tortured and permanently scarred," his voice acerbic, "because of me?”

“It does matter, but it wasn’t because of you, Six. It was because that guy was insane. He was unstable. He hated you and I was useful.” You're pleading with him to hear you. Your hand slides up from his cheek into his drenched hair.

You decide to gamble a joke, “Always wanted a man’s name tattooed on me, anyway.”

Your eyes shine up at him fervently, hoping the joke corroborates your apathy over the wound. Because that really didn’t matter to you. The physical scars were nothing - they would heal without issue. If anything, you worried about being separated from Six. How would you ever feel safe without him again?

Your gamble works. He snorts and leans his forehead to yours. Stray water droplets collect in his facial hair.

“But you’re right, that’s not my name,” he murmurs, then carefully presses his lips to yours. He’s gentle, but pain issues forth from your split skin, anyway. You flinch slightly, and Six murmurs, "Sorry."

Angry at the reminder, you decide you’re not letting Lloyd take any more seconds of your life, so you deepen the kiss. Your lips part to allow him in, and at the first touch of his tongue, a spark of tension flares.

He hums deep in his chest at your enthusiasm, your reassurance. Six’s right hand curves around the back of your upper thigh, underneath your ass, and he half-lifts/half-pushes you into the icy wall of the shower. You hiss in surprise, but his warm body follows with a grunt a split-second later, and you’re no longer thinking of anything but him.

Your hand drops to stroke his velvet length against your thigh, and Six’s groaning mouth leaves yours to trail along your jaw and drops to the hollow he knows you love. His hands caress your curves, one hand traveling to grasp your breast as the other hand slides between your legs.

You gasp as the friction of his rough palm, then his fingers, send a jolt right to that coil in your stomach. He squeezes your breast gently, and his thumb rolls over your nipple as Six drops to his knees.

“You don’t have to -” you start, but change your mind instantly as you appreciate Six below you: his hair drips into his profoundly blue eyes; water runs down his well-defined body, and his thighs flex as he shifts closer to you and sits back on his heels. His large hands wrap around your hips. You feel your breath hitch as he angles forward and his breath touches your tender skin a moment before his heated mouth. His tongue flattens against you before flicking at the perfect pace; he alternates between the two patterns. The heat floods through you in a deluge - your eyes slam shut, your head rolls back, and when your stomach constricts, your legs go weak.

He makes a pleased guttural sound that vibrates into your skin, and he plants one firm arm upward along the inside of your hip, his hand on your ribs, to keep you upright. His other hand on your hip welds you firmly to him. Your cries of pleasure echo in the space, and he feels himself growing painfully hard.

Your body having been stretched to its limits in so many ways means the euphoria you feel now has you coming easily. Six feels the tension in you splinter, feels the shuddering in your legs. The pride it gives him is unmatched as he holds you still. You moan into the steamy air, and he knows could do this forever.

He continues at the same pace, but in a moment of lucidity, you miss him against you. You pull at his shoulder, and he obliges, standing. His right hand grasps the underside of your knee, palm on the outside of your leg, and he fits himself right against you. You can feel him twitch with expectation. An aftershock of your first orgasm ripples through you, and has you clenching around nothing. You shiver, already anticipating how good he will feel.

“Please, Si-” you beg him, unnecessarily.

He makes a sudden decision, cutting you off, “It’s Court.”

Your eyes fly up to his. But before you have a chance to speak, he steadily shifts up into you. His quiet groan is punctuated by your gasps. His eyes close involuntarily at your tight warmth. Your nails dig into his biceps where you’d braced yourself. The stretch hurts a little this time, but you're too satisfied with the closeness to care. Relishing the unique intimacy of being inside you, he skims one hand down your side before he drags himself unhurriedly out, and thrusts back in.

He begins to slowly increase his rhythm, and with each incredible entrance, you both let the sounds spill out from your mouths uninhibited. Before long he is driving into you so unrelentingly that all you can do is hang onto him. He never neglects your lips for a second, his deep, messy kiss the only thing keeping you sane. You feel white-hot; it’s nearly painful, but it’s so good.

Tears leak down your face. His left hand cups your cheek, thumb swiping away the salty liquid. He can see you’re about to snap once again by the way your face pinches, then begins to unwind underneath his hand. He drops his hand to work you over further. He never knew life could be so sweet. Reserved, isolated his entire adult life, he knows that he’s never going to be happy if he’s not coming home to this.

“Don’t say Six,” he begs. It’s never mattered to him before. He was the same person no matter what anyone referred to him as. But he wanted you to know, to have the purest version of himself. The version no one else had.

He looks down into your eyes as he asks, and when the understanding hits you, it’s the final nail in your coffin. A sob echoes in the small room as your walls constrict around him, fluttering. He revels in the image of you falling apart against him.

He kisses you again, then lets his lips hang open over yours as you both breathe heavily from the wicked roll of his hips. He’s blurry through your tears, and you blink a little to better understand what you just saw flashing in his eyes. What you’d seen there two days earlier, too. He loves you, your mind supplies unasked.

Court’s rhythm changes to deep, passionate thrusts as he tries to bury himself in you. His desperate grunts send aftershocks throughout your thighs. He’d never stop if his body would allow it. He gradually slows his movements, still working you through your own high. He finishes with a low, animalistic noise and closes the small gap between your mouths. Neither of you move, panting.

You look up at him through your lashes, your eyes full of tears at the emotion between you two. He kisses you, hard - full of everything he'd wanted to say for months. After several moments, he lets go of your leg, and removes himself from you.

Unwilling to stop touching you, though, he takes you by the hand as he exits the shower. You twist the knob to shut it off as you walk by.

He wraps an old, gray towel around his waist, and hands one to you. You squish your hair, then wrap it around your chest. He’s quiet, uncomfortable for some reason, so you take his hand again, and back him up against the counter. He barks a reluctant, low laugh at you pretending to be able to keep him pinned. He rests his hands on your waist.

“Why are you sad?” You ask bluntly.

“I’m not the one who was just crying,” he deflects with a quip.

You raise your eyebrows and frown at him.

Remembering that he wanted you to know him, he cautiously answers in a halting undertone, “I would like a calm life.” He stops, thinking. “Maybe with you...”

It's almost a question, and he doesn’t say what he means exactly, but you understand. You're his chance at a normal life. A happy life.

“Maybe not a calm life, no, but you could have me.” You phrase it as a potential, though it’s not one. He’s had you wrapped around his finger for months. You'd do anything if your reward was this man.

His face doesn’t change, so you try again, “You already have me; so, it’d be nice if you’d accept it.”

“Oh, I don’t even get a choice, now?” He smirks faintly, his thumbs rubbing along your hips through the thin towel.

“I don’t think I’ll ever feel happy without you,” you confess your earlier thought. Your hand traces over the tattoo on his chest. “I know I wouldn't feel safe."

He sighs heavily. “I can’t say nothing will ever happen,” he says honestly, “but I can promise I'll be there." He pauses, trying to figure out how to express himself. "If you want me, then-"

“I always want you, Court.”

You cut him off, speaking his name for the first time. When when he smiles, it finally touches his eyes. His grip tightens on your waist. He's contemplative for a moment as his look turns mischievous.

He lowers his voice, “About that book you tried to kill me with: I think I remember a page or two -” he breaks off as he bends faster than you’re capable of reacting to, and throws you expertly over his shoulder, smiling at your laughing shriek.

#sierra six #the gray man #the gray man fanfic #court gentry #courtland gentry #my fics #smut #fluff #ryan gosling #lloyd hansen #chris evans #sierra six x reader #court gentry x reader #the gray man fanfiction #personal #I have a deformed finger and my dad makes that manicure joke all the time fyi #the gray man 2022 #sierra six x you

1K notes · View notes

scaranation · 1 year

Note

Hi there dear

I stumbled upon ur blog and ahh love ur writting i wad thinking maybe if ur requests are open that u could write a lil smth IF UR FREE OFCI

was thinking scaramouche x reader argument (angst to fluff :the ansgt shouldnt be brutal bc i dont hsndle it well)

Or if ur not comfy writting that u could doo

Scaramouche x reader scara accidentally confesses to reader??

Dont overwork urself and remember to eat <3

Ofc! Literally giggling and kicking my feet as i wrote this anyway I hope it’s what you had in mind <33

༊*·˚ 𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐊

Pairing: Scaramouche x GN!reader (Scaramouche is referred to as Kunikuzushi)

Content: Modern AU, angst to fluff, comfort

In which Kunikuzushi’s trust issues lead him to grow apprehensive of your recent actions - although the argument he instigates leaves him in dire need for your reassurance.

“Fuck, why are you keeping things from me?” Kunikuzushi stood glowering on the other side of the kitchen counter, violet eyes flaring with unbridled frustration.

“Kuni, I told you, I was preparing-” You began, your voice barely able to remain level, but your fiancé cut you off.

“Bullshit! I’ve been betrayed so many times, I know the signs when I see it. Buying men’s products? Sneaking out? Hiding your phone? You might as well just tell me the name of your other man.”

Kunikuzushi had flown into a rage after discovering expensive men’s cologne in your room, and you were now left floundering in the wrath he usually saved for his subordinates. Usually, you matched his explosive energy, impulsively making snarky remarks in return - but now, you were just so, so tired.

Tired of this stupid argument.

Tired of Kunikuzushi.

Maybe you were even tired of your engagement.

“You’re just like the rest of them. How stupid I was, to think you’d be any different. Pathetic.” Kunikuzushi seethed, and that was it. The tears that’d threatened to spill for the past few minutes finally flowed as you felt your eyes heat up, the droplets staining your cheeks as you could only feel helpless.

Kunikuzushi’s gaze flickered at your crying, his lips sealing quickly as you finally took your turn to speak.

“The cologne was for you. Happy anniversary, Kuni.”

Without a second glance, you turned and strode off. In the arguments you usually had with Kunikuzushi, you’d storm off in a blind rage - but somehow, it was even more heartbreaking for him to see you shuffle away in fatigued defeat.

You’d been planning a surprise for your anniversary with Kunikuzushi for weeks. You’d treat him to a nice dinner, present him with expensive cologne and a new hat to add to his prized designer collection. But when you’d returned home on the evening of the anniversary, excited to have everything in order, you’d been greeted with the sight of your fiancé at the counter - holding the present you’d bought for him.

At first, you were surprised, but that was quickly overcome with excitement as you anticipated how he would react. Would he be happy, that you prepared a gift just for him?

What you didn’t expect however, was for him to explode into a violently personal spiel - accusing you of cheating, and hiding things from him, and purchasing gifts for another man. You knew he was busy with his work, which could leave him tense, and that he was quick to catch on to signs of betrayal, given his past. You knew he was prone to spewing harsh words he didn’t mean, but this time simply left you worn out.

Worst of all, it never occurred to him once that today was your anniversary. Were you foolish, to hope that he too would be counting down the days?

Perhaps you simply weren’t meant for each other - after all, you weren’t sure if you could continue putting up with his attitude.

And so, you decided to pack your things - not eliminate your relationship, but just stay in a nearby hotel to cool down. You figured that both you and Kunikuzushi needed the break.

The more clothing you shoved into your suitcase, the more convinced you became that this was the right decision. Overcome by the fatigue and mental drain however, you paused your rushed packing briefly.

You told yourself you’d close your eyes for just a moment as you propped your elbows on the pile of shirts in the case, laying your head down.

You’d just take a small rest.

As you lapsed in and out of consciousness, at some point you became vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps.

Kunikuzushi’s, unmistakably.

They shuffled hesitantly to the door, before pausing - the room dropping back into silence as the steps stopped in their tracks. A silence that was shortly broken by the quickening breaths of Kunikuzushi, indistinguishably muttering barely audible.

Was he relieved, to see you go?

You were vaguely aware of Kunikuzushi’s smooth, cold hands around your legs and the small of your back. They were tentative, shy - deeply contrasting his usual prickly nature. After another hesitant pause, you felt yourself being lifted into the air and set with utter care onto your bed, the man lowering you down slowly. Tracing the shape of your face affectionately, you felt his fingers cautiously slide across the planes of your face before pulling away in quiet resolve.

You heard the sound of your suitcase being unpacked, with a little too much force - your clothes placed in the wardrobe once again with a rigorous energy. A small smile crept to your face at the gesture. Kunikuzushi could be cute at times, although you’d never say that to his face. As he shoved the last of your clothes back and shut the suitcase with a vehement finality, you let out a sigh - feigning mumbling in your sleep.

The reaction was immediate as Kunikuzushi stepped over to your side, gently grasping your hands in his and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. Too stunned by the out of character gesture, your breathing stopped - although it went unnoticed by your fiancé as he delicately placed his lips against your hand, cradling your arm close to him in a grip that was just tight enough not to hurt. Just as you felt your eye begin twitching from feigning sleep, Kunikuzushi gently pulled away with a reluctant sigh - placing your arm slowly back on the mattress and carefully tucking the blanket around your body.

A while later - following the sound of the shower - the other side of your shared bed dipped as Kunikuzushi crawled into it. You felt lithe hands wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you closer into Kunikuzushi as he pressed fluttering kisses down your neck and back.

“I don’t know if you’re awake… But I just wanted to say that I’m sorry. I know I can be quick to misunderstand things and assume the worst of people, and I’m sorry for lashing out and forgetting about our anniversary. But… If you’d like, we can have a date tomorrow, and maybe…” Kunikuzushi’s voice was rough and gravelly, faltering at your lack of response. His arms tightened around you. Maybe, in his heart, he wanted you to be awake - to respond to him, and offer him the forgiveness he sought.

“If you… Still want to be with me, of course.” He added, voice trembling lightly. He dipped his head back into the crook of your neck, and you felt something damp on your skin.

Was he… crying?

You rolled over at once, to see Kunikuzushi staring at you with teary eyes - face flushed, and eyebrows raised in an expression of vulnerability you’d rarely ever seen from him. You weren’t sure if it was the dark, but it looked as though his lower lip was shaking.

“Kuni, why would I leave you?” You thumbed away his tears as he melted into your touch, closing his eyes.

“You were packing your things… You know I don’t like it when people leave.”

“I was just planning to take a small break.”

You felt your fiancé’s arms hug you closer at that, his eyes widening.

“Are you going to call me a liar?” You chuckled, as Kunikuzushi closed his mouth. His face flushed with embarassment.

“Listen. I won’t leave you, and you need to believe that. I won’t lie, neither of us are great with words, so I’ll just say it as it is - the only thing that has the smallest chance of driving me away is your inability to believe that I’ll stay.” You murmured, before realising that your delivery of words had significant room for improvement.

“… Okay, I believe you. Because that’s what silly mortal love is, isn’t it? A risk.” Kunikuzushi muttered, although his arms relaxed.

“Good thing we’re both taking that risk.” You smiled, as Kunikuzushi’s usual demeanour returned. Typically, he couldn’t handle apologising and cracking his infallible ego.

Kunikuzushi supposed that since he’d already been vulnerable, he might as well continue to be. Curling into your form, he held you tightly - pecking light kisses wherever his lips could reach.

“You know, you’re not as insufferable when you’re desperate.” You laughed.

“… Are you still okay with a date tomorrow, though…?” Kunikuzushi ignored your comment.

“Yes, of course.” You replied, lacing your fingers with his. He turned red, stuttering in his movements at the simple gesture. His eyes however switched to relief at your acceptance - mouth curving into a smile despite the flush across his pale cheeks.

“Good night.” You pressed a lazy kiss against Kunikuzushi’s cheek, preparing to close your eyes.

“Can I have one… here?” Kunikuzushi grabbed you before you could fall asleep, pointing to his lips with a guarded expression.

You obliged, chastely kissing his lips before pulling away and laughing at his embarrassment.

“I hate you.” Kunikuzushi scowled at your deriding chuckles, closing his eyes and nestling into the blankets.

“I love you.” You responded quickly, letting your eyelids droop sleepily.

Then, a few minutes later, in the slumbering silence of the bedroom, came one last comment.

“… I love you too.”

#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin oneshots #fatui x reader #kunikuzushi #genshin angst #genshin fluff #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you

601 notes · View notes

aamalaaa · 1 year

Text

Lifeline | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: bestfriends to lovers au, hurt/comfort, jk is so understanding, fluff, romance, reader is sad but it'll be ok

warnings: reader suffers from depression but doesn't know it, it gets a little heated but there's no smut

word count: 3.6k

a/n: sooo, this was supposed to be a drabble and yet.. I got a lil carried away. I hope you like this, I've wrote this from my own experience with depression, I hope you can find comfort in it, you're never alone and I love you<3

It’s been days, weeks now that you’ve been feeling like this. Nothing happened, nothing dramatic. You still go to work, still talk to your friends. On the outside, things seem as normal as they usually are. You seem okay, maybe a bit indifferent.

You’re not.

You’re not okay, you feel like not enough air gets into your lungs, you feel heavy, tired, like the weight of the world is too much to endure. You still manage to look relatively okay, you shower, put on makeup, make sure your clothes are clean and fit well together when you put an outfit together.

You haven’t washed your clothes for weeks though. You only have a few things left in your wardrobe, the rest of your clothes lay on a chair, on the floor of your bedroom, your couch and next to the shower.

You didn’t clean up your room, kitchen, bathroom or anything in your apartment really. It doesn’t look good, you can’t stand to leave the lights on because you’d have to face the mess and feel bad about it. You don’t feel like you’re doing enough, you feel incompetent and lazy.

You don’t cry though, can’t bring yourself to. Staying awake and going to work is tiring enough, you can’t muster enough energy to cry on top of that. You wish you could, maybe it would help. Fill the empty hole in your chest, make you feel something again, replace the shame and tiredness with something else. Anything not to feel like this, empty, unmoored.

You’re laying in bed when you hear it first, a soft knock. Your ears perk up at the sound but you still stay wrapped up in your duvet, even bringing it up a little above your head, trying to drown out the noise.

But the noise doesn’t stop, it’s at your front door and it gets louder and louder. Though it stays gentle, like the instigator knows you can’t handle more, loud and constant noises make you feel overwhelmed these days.

You groan loudly before throwing the duvet off your body in one swift motion, making you shiver instantly at the contact of cool air against warm skin. You need to up the heat here, or maybe put on something that isn’t tiny shorts and a tank top.

You barely have anything else in your wardrobe though, goddamn you need to wash your clothes.

You slowly trudge to the front door, hoping the visitor will get tired and go away before you get there. But he doesn’t and you have no choice, someone came up here to see you and you can’t be this ungrateful. Won’t let yourself be.

So you card your hand through your hair to try and tame it before quickly opening the door to its full extent.

The black haired man stares at you with his wide doe eyes, hand stopping mid motion in the air where the door was, a black tote bag in his other hand.

You stare back, shock clearly visible all over your face. If you didn’t expect one thing, it’s to see Jungkook at your doorstep, looking this fucking hot in black sweatspants, a black longsleeved shirt and an equally black baseball cap to match.

“Kook, what are you doing here? Did we have something planned? I forgot didn’t I- Ah shit! I’m so sorry, my mind’s a bit of a mess today..” You anxiously blurt out.

Jungkook awkwardly brushes a strand of hair beneath his ear. “No, no we didn’t have anything planned, don't worry,” He hurriedly says, noticing your nervousness. “I just-“ He pauses. “I hadn't heard from you in a few days and you didn’t respond to my texts so I decided to pay a visit..”

And if his appearance wasn’t enough to make you melt into a puddle of goo, his explanation sure is. Because how could he be this attentionate and caring?

You’ve known Jungkook for a few months, meeting him through your group of friends and you quickly grew closer, became good friends even. And you may or may not have a huge crush on him but that’s another story and you’re not about to admit it out loud, not now, not ever. If he liked you that way he would’ve told you already, you’re not about to burden him with your feelings.

But you’re fine being just friends, he’s an amazing person and you couldn’t imagine your life without him now, he’s the funniest and kindest person you’ve ever known. You can keep your emotions under check, maybe they’ll even settle down after a while.

Though you doubt it considering the way your heart beats loudly against your rib cage only from standing a few feet away from the man. Oh well.

“Oh.. that’s very kind of you,” You breathe out.

Jungkook shoots you a dazzling wide smile and you almost faint at the sight.

“Sooo, can I come in? I got a few things for you,” He lifts up the tote bag he’s been holding.

Your heart skips a beat, god he’s making it very hard for you not to completely fall in love with him.

“Umm..” You start, unsure what to say.

He can’t see your place like this, he’d probably run for the hills. “My place’s a bit of a mess and I was planning on cleaning up today-“

“I can help!” He enthusiastically cuts you off.

You stare at your feet, wiggling your toes around. “I mean you don’t have to, it’s fine really and you must have better things to do..” He can’t see your place like this.

He snorts. “I have the day off, let me help, I want to! Plus, I brought food!” He says, a hopeful smile etched upon his mesmerizing face.

Goddamn fucking Jeon Jungkook, you can’t say no to him, not when he’s looking at you like that.

“I- Ok but please don’t judge, I’m just very busy,” You step out of his way, motioning for him to come in. His only reply is a nod before he slides in through the door.

He spends a moment, and only a moment to observe your apartment before heading towards the kitchen counter and dropping the bag he’s been holding.

You’re so fucking embarrassed, he’s probably gonna judge you or worse, pity you. Though he would never say it out loud, that’s not Jungkook.

“I’ve seen worse,” He gets out a few supplies from the bag and puts them on the counter.

“Please don’t lie, it’s disgusting,” You sigh, picking up a few stray clothes on the floor to throw them on the couch.

He lifts up his eyes to you, gaze locked into yours. You hold it for a few seconds before dropping your eyes to the ground, a rosy tint adorning your cheeks.

“What’s going on?” He gently asks, dropping the broccoli he was holding on the counter and stepping closer to you.

You shrug and nervously fiddle with your fingers, refusing to meet his gaze. You can’t do this, you’ve been really good at keeping your emotions at bay.

You can’t give up now.

But he doesn’t relent. “What’s wrong?” He’s very close to you now and you shyly peek at him before dropping your eyes to your hands again.

He softly takes both of your hands in his, stopping you from fiddling with them. And you can barely hold it in now, you have no distraction to focus on instead of the gaping hole in your heart, threatening to split your whole being in two any moment now.

“Nothing, don’t worry,” You croak.

He drops your left hand to bring his right one up to your chin, tilting your face upward slowly, forcing you to look at him.

You feel them, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes, ready to spill out.

He stares at you, an incredibly concerned look in his eyes and caresses your chin softly with his thumb. “Talk to me, please.”

And that’s all it takes for you to lose it, tears flowing freely on your cheeks like cold rain on a fogged up window. You bring your hands up to your face, hiding to the best of your abilities behind them.

“I- I d-don’t know Kookie, what’s wrong with me?” You hiccup, the sound muffled by your palms.

Your heart almost splits in half when your friend takes you in his strong arms, your head laying in the crook of his neck, and strokes your hair in soothing motions. Which only makes you sob harder.

He doesn’t say a word for a long time, settles on stroking your hair and leaving a few kisses on top of your head.

You manage to calm down after a few minutes, but not before you leave a big wet spot on his shirt.

“Oh god I’m so sorry, your shirt is ruined.”

He chuckles warmly and leaves another kiss on your head before replying. “It’s just a shirt.”

You nuzzle a bit closer in his neck, taking in the calming jasmine scent. It’s grounding, like a deep rooted tree in the middle of a storm.

“Do you want to sit down and eat?” He asks, voice just shy of a whisper.

You shake your head no, pressing even closer in his embrace, not willing to let go. Which prompts a loud chuckle out of Jungkook.

“You need to eat, we can lay around and do nothing after.”

You groan, but ultimately step away. Jungkook lets out a small laugh, strokes your hair once more and sweeps his thumbs under your eyes to try and dry your wet cheeks.

You can’t help the furious blush that creeps up your neck and all the way to your cheeks, though you can hide your face behind your hair. So you do.

Jungkook coos before heading towards the kitchen counter, getting to work immediately.

You’re mostly silent, though Jungkook manages to make you laugh a few times with his antics. You eat the meal he prepared for you, not missing the way he constantly peers at you to make sure you’re eating.

You almost eat all of your plate, you’d feel entitled and ungrateful not to. But there’s so much your stomach can take, and the portion he gave you was twice what you’d usually eat.

“This was amazing, thank you,” You smile.

He smiles back, that bunny grin of his you love so much. “My pleasure.” He replies, a slight blush making its way onto his cheeks. “Got anything you want to do this evening?” He tilts his head to the side before getting up and dropping his plate next to the sink.

“I was thinking of just like, watching a movie or something. You don’t have to stay, really,” You’d be lying if you said you didn’t hope he would stay.

Which is why your heart swells ten times its original size at his response.

“I’m not going anywhere, unless you want me to leave,”

You shake your head. “No.. stay.”

He smiles bashfully before taking your plate and cleaning the dishes he had used for the meal. You get up and join him, picking a rag up and drying the clean dishes before you put them in the cupboards.

It takes a few minutes, silence reigning peacefully over the both of you, the only sounds breaking it being Jungkook whistling quietly and water splashing in the sink.

When you’re both done, he excuses himself to go to the bathroom and you take that moment to change into a large black t-shirt and slide under the covers of your bed, using the remote controller to turn on the television.

When Jungkook comes back into the lounge, he chuckles at the sight of you snuggled deep under the covers, a plushie between your arms, scrolling through netflix for a movie to watch.

You quirk your brow at him questioningly when you see him awkwardly standing next to the bed.

“What are you standing there for?” You playfully question.

He cards a hand through his hair, seemingly nervous. “Well.. where do you want me?”

You stare in shock, mouth agape before you break out into a loud cackle while Jungkook frowns in confusion. “What? What did I say?”

“Oh Kook,” Your laughter dies down progressively. “It’s nothing.” You pat the empty side of your bed, smiling amusedly at the black haired man.

He shrugs, confused but still hops on the bed, keeping a safe distance from you, much to your dismay.

“Get under the covers Kookie,” You stare him down.

“O-ok,” He tentatively slides under the covers, fully clothed.

You press play on the title you chose and scoot closer to Jungkook, feeling him stiffen at the proximity. “What’s wrong?” You question, feeling shy all of a sudden. It’s not your first time cuddling with him, so why is he being weird about it?

He exhales slowly before responding. “I just-“ He stops himself, rubbing at his eyes anxiously. “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this.. I know you’re feeling vulnerable and sad right now, I don’t want to take advantage of that.” He almost whispers the last part, while you can only look at him curiously, not quite understanding what he means.

“We cuddled before, what’s different?” You question, straightening up.

He shoots you an indecipherable look before scooting closer to you. “Nothing, come on over.”

You giggle and drape your arm around his stomach, your head resting on his chest. The soft rhythm of his heart puts you at ease almost instantly.

You both watch the movie in silence, Jungkook occasionally stroking your hair, making you shiver each and every time.

After a while he breaks the comfortable silence. “Do you want to talk about what happened earlier?” He breathes out against your hair.

You sigh in resignation. Of course he’d want to know, and it’s understandable. You did have a full on breakdown in his arms, after all. You just don’t know what to say, don’t know what’s wrong. You just know something is.

“I’ve been feeling kinda.. off, I guess?” You start, voice uneven. Another gentle stroke of your hair. “Like I have no energy, I don’t want to go out or do anything, I can’t clean up or do anything except go to work..” You feel him shifting his head a bit, probably looking at you.

You don’t meet his gaze and continue. “It’s silly really, don’t worry too much.”

He sighs and tilts your chin up with his free hand. You slowly lift your eyes, meeting his own. He seems conflicted and hurt. You don’t understand.

“How could you say that?” He observes you carefully. “I care about you, of course I’m gonna be worried. And it’s not silly, it’s important. I want you to be happy, so happy. You deserve it, you deserve everything good. How can you not see that?” He cradles the side of your face with his hand, you blush profusely, your heart beat going absolutely frantic. What the hell is going on?

“I- I’m sorry..” You don’t know what to say, apologizing seems like the right thing to do, seeing the pained look on his face.

His hold on your face gets stronger as his eyes widen. “Why are you apologizing? You did nothing wrong, except thinking so poorly of yourself.” He exhales. “I didn’t want to make you feel bad about it, I’m sorry.” He strokes your cheek tenderly.

You can’t stop staring in his big eyes, like under a spell of some sort. It’s just hard not looking into them when they seem to hold the whole galaxy.

You open your mouth to speak, but close it soon after. He sends you a questioning look.

It takes you a few seconds to reply. “I don’t know what to say..” You murmur.

“You don't have to know what to say, we’ll figure it out together,” He gently replies, shooting you a soft smile in the process.

You almost cry again as his words register in your head. You inhale shakily. “Why-“ You gulp. “Why would you do that for me?”

He brings his head down, fiddling with the sleeve of your shirt. “Why do you think?” He whispers, a peachy tint appearing on his cheeks.

You frown in confusion, using your hand to stop his movements. “Because you’re a good friend? Why are you being so cryptic?” You ask, completely lost

Jungkook chuckles fondly before looking back into your eyes. “I’m really gonna have to spell it out uh,” He cradles the side of your face once more before timidly smiling at you.

“I guess so?” You unknowingly snuggle closer into his hand.

“Will you let me show you?” He strokes your hair with his long fingers, spurring on a shiver out of you.

You send him a puzzled look. You’re so fucking lost. “Um, I guess yeah?”

He looks at your lips before gazing into your eyes again, then stares at your lips once more.

And your heart might leap out of your chest because then, he gets a little closer, his face a few inches away from yours. His breath fanning over your cheeks makes you shiver.

“Can I kiss you?” He murmurs, so close you can almost feel the vibration of his voice onto your skin.

“Can you what-“ You squeeze his hand on instinct, the one you were still holding.

“Kiss you,” He replies cockily, raising a brow.

“Uh, what-“ What’s going on, and why are you so socially inept. “Why would you-“ You loudly gulp, not finishing your sentence.

He nervously chuckles. “Because I-“ His voice cracks, and he tries to move further away from you. You scream internally. “It’s ok if you don’t want to. God I’m sorry I didn’t-“

You cut him off by tugging on his arm and crashing your lips onto his before even realizing what you’re doing. The angle is awkward and your lips collide almost painfully. You don’t care though, can’t bring yourself to.

At first, you both stay there, lips pressed against the other’s, unmoving, surprised by the sudden closeness. But soon enough, Jungkook kisses you back, sighing happily while his soft lips caress yours. You start moving along with him almost immediately, it’s almost like a dance, really.

You feel him shift as he adjusts your position, laying you down backwards and hovering over you, tilting your head back a few inches to deepen the kiss.

Your brain is foggy, you can’t even think or do anything but kiss back hungrily. Like his lips are a lifeline and you’re lost at sea. Latching onto him with unrivaled passion, your hand gripping the hair at the back of his neck pleadingly, soft whimpers escaping your throat only to be swallowed by the man holding you together like glue.

You fist the front of his shirt so forcefully your knuckles turn white while Jungkook nibbles at your bottom lip. You can feel him smirking against your mouth when you let out a loud whimper. He uses that moment to slide his tongue against yours, groaning in the process, lapping at your mouth like a dehydrated man.

And if this is a dance, then Jungkook is a master dancer. And the avid apprentice you are, you’re willing to learn every step, over and over again until you know them by heart.

You slide your hand under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his bare skin and defined abs you thought about more often than you’d be willing to admit. You notice him shivering at the contact of your hand on his stomach and that only serves to spur you on even further, up his ribs and chest.

It goes on like this for a long time, parting for oxygen from time to time, only to come together again. Jungkook and you battling for the lead, though you always end up happily losing the battle. And after a while it gets softer, gentle caresses and long, languid strokes of tongues intertwining together in complete harmony.

Jungkook slides his thumb above your eyebrow, leaning away for just a moment before leaving a quick peck on your lips. When he lets go of your lips, you try to chase his own needily, only to hear a gruff, quiet laugh from the man you just spent the better half of an hour kissing.

You open your eyes and pout at him, which is apparently really funny because he laughs even harder.

Your pout deepens and you try to push him off with all the strength you can muster, which is admittedly not a lot.

He coos at you before leaving yet another soft kiss on your lips, making you sigh happily.

“I guess you wanted to,” He confidently comments, a small smirk lifting the side of his red swollen lips.

You roll your eyes playfully. “Great guess, Sherlock.”

Jungkook settles down next to you, tugging you closer to him as he does. You wrap your arm around him and lay on his chest, just like you did earlier. Except now it feels more intimate and the butterflies in your stomach roam freely around your body.

You don’t even notice you’re dozing off until a strong hand gently shakes your shoulder, you hum in response.

“Do you want me to go?” You hear a scratchy voice murmur in your ear.

You frown and shake your head. “Nuh-uh, stay, please..” You’re barely able to get the words out in your sleepy state.

“Okay, I’ll stay,” He responds, snuggling even closer to you. You suspire contentedly.

As you slowly slip into unconsciousness you ask one last question.

“Are you gonna be here when I wake up?” You slur.

You barely register a soft peck being laid upon your forehead.

“Wouldn’t dream of being anywhere else.”

a/n: this is the link for the general taglist for my writings<3 click here!

645 notes · View notes

nyxlaufeyson · 1 year

Note

I have a one shot request? 😬

Loki and y/n live in the avengers tower, they’ve been getting closer in the last few months. Y/n is a tough nut to crack and doesn’t like to be vulnerable with people till one day Loki finds her asleep in the library, a book on Norse mythology resting on her chest…

Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

MY FIRST REQUEST GUYS AHHH!!! I hope I wrote this somewhat to what you imagined, great idea!!!

POV: Second

SYNOPSIS: You have been living in the Avengers tower, curtsey of your uncle Tony, and have been becoming closer and closer with Loki. One day, he finds you asleep in the library with a book on Norse Mythology lying on your chest.

TYPE: Fluffy fluff, maybe a lil tiny bit of angst if you squint

WORDCOUNT: 1,890

TW: Light mentions of not-good parental figures but not really super relavent to the story

~~~~~

You had been living in the Avengers tower for several months now. Your parents weren’t the best role models in your life, so when you decided to move to New York and started looking for your own place, your uncle Tony offered for you to stay in the tower.

You had gotten along with everyone, quickly establishing friendships with everyone. You even managed to befriend Loki, as he was staying at the tower since he was forced to help the Avengers to repay for his crimes.

You always seemed to wear a smile on your face, despite the never-ending college assignments your professors seemed to give you.

You and Loki had been getting closer the past few months, and you were one of the only people he would enjoy talking to in the tower. Sure, he enjoyed pestering the others, but he didn’t mind having a simple conversation with you.

Despite your appearance as an open-book, Loki noticed that there was more to you than it seemed.

He noticed how you would sometimes overwork yourself as a distraction from reality. He picked up on the way you seemed to deflect certain questions, and the way you managed to change the subject of a conversation.

Of course, he didn’t just notice the bad. He noticed the good things too. He noticed the days when you decided to do something with your appearance, whether it be fixing your hair or doing your makeup.

Not that you needed any of this to be beautiful, he knew that. You just appreciated that someone noticed when you did these things, and it made you giddy whenever Loki would compliment your eyeliner or hairstyle.

Just the little compliments and gestures of kindness Loki would give you made you fall head over heels for him. Of course, you doubted he would feel the same.

You weren’t very experienced with romantic feelings, so you hoped they would eventually go away. However, as the days passed by, your feelings built up and became more complex.

Loki also seemed to develop some feelings that were unfamiliar to him. At first, he mistook it as friendly love, as he had not had many true friends before, but he began to realize that it wasn’t just friendship sprawling in his heart.

Unfortunately, you struggled at expressing your feelings. You weren’t used to a lot of affection. In fact, when you first moved to the tower, it took a while to get used to people checking in on you.

Due to this, Loki wasn’t sure how you felt about him. He was happy just to have you as a friend, but inside he longed for something more. Something more than the friendship you already shared.

~~~~~

“Stark, have you seen Y/n?” Loki asked, walking through the living room. He had looked in your room, but you weren’t there. He wanted to return a book you had lended him.

Tony scratched his head before answering. “Uh, no. I do remember she said something about studying though… Maybe check the library?” Loki nodded in thanks and started towards the library.

“Y/n? Are you in here?” Loki called, walking towards the middle of the library where you two would often lounge on the couches, reading with each other for hours.

He smiled as he found you lying fast asleep on one of the couches, strands of hair resting on your face and a book pages-up on your chest.

Loki brushed some of the loose strands of hair behind your ear, enjoying the way you looked when you slept. You found it embarrassing, but he couldn’t help but think it was cute.

Conjuring up a bookmark, Loki grabbed the book and marked your page before closing it.

His eyes skimmed over the cover, and then he went back and reread it, breath hitching.

Norse Mythology

You hadn’t told him you had been reading up on Norse mythology, and Loki decided to flip through some of the pages.

He smiled at the illustrations of Asgard and the rainbow bridge leading up to it. He flipped through some more, sitting down on a nearby couch and losing himself in the pages. But don’t worry, he made sure to keep the bookmark marking your spot in place.

After who knows how long, you stirred to the sounds of pages flipping. Your eyes slowly fluttered open and you looked around, realizing you were in the library.

You gradually sat up, realizing Loki was across from you. He looked up from his book, smiling as you rubbed your eyes.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, darling.” He said, and you blushed slightly with a chuckle.

“What time is it?” You asked, not sure how long you had been asleep for. “It’s eight in the evening.” Loki responded, and your eyes widened slightly.

“Damn…” You muttered, surprised. “I slept for 4 hours.” Loki nodded, flipping a page. The sounds of his book made you remember your own, patting around the couch for the book.

You looked around, confused when you couldn’t find it. You could have sworn that the last thing you were doing was reading your book on Norse mythology.

Loki smirked as he watched you look around, and you finally caught his eye, glancing down as he showed you the cover of the book he was reading. “Looking for something?” He asked, holding up your book.

Heat rushed to your face as you quickly stood up, running over to him. “Give it back!” You whined, but Loki stood up and held the book above your head, leaving you trying to jump and grab it.

“Come on Loki…” You pleaded, but Loki still held the book, smiling down at you. “You didn’t tell me you were studying Norse Mythology, love.”

You sighed, knowing it was no use to try to reach the book, and flopped down on the couch. Loki finally handed your book back to you and sat next to you, and you were happy to see that your page was marked.

“What class is this for?” He asked, and your face turned red, yet again. “Uhm… History. We had an, erm... Religion paper.” You lied, and Loki raised his eyebrow.

“While it is amusing to watch you try to lie to me, I would like to know the truth.” You hugged your knees to your chest and buried your face in them, trying to get out of the situation.

Loki gently pulled your head back, moving your gaze to his. “Darling?” He asked, and you huffed, giving up. “It wasn’t for school.” You admitted, embarrassed.

His face lit up, and he tilted his head. “That means that-” He started, but you interrupted him. “Yes, I read it on my own, okay? I just wanted to know more about you.”

You averted his gaze, and he chuckled. You began to worry that he was going to make fun of you, but you were wrong. “Well dear, you could have just asked.” He said, and you once again met his gaze.

“I didn’t want you to make fun of me.” You confessed, fumbling with one of the buttons of your shirt. Loki chuckled again, grabbing one of your hands and taking it in his. “Darling, I would never make fun of you.”

You felt the sincerity of his words, and gave him a soft smile. “Really?” You asked, and he nodded. “Really.”

You and Loki sat there for a minute, hand in hand, basking in the silence. Your breath picked up as he brushed a strand of hair and tucked it behind your ear, causing your face to flush.

Loki noticed, chuckling. “My my, it really doesn’t take much for you to get all worked up, does it dear?” You grabbed a pillow from the couch and slapped him with it. “Oh, shut up!” You said, laughing as he fell back onto the couch from the pillow slap.

You continued assaulting him with the pillow, eventually ending up on top of him as the pillow fell to the floor, leaving you two face-to-face in a rather intimate position.

Your heart had nearly exploded, realizing that your lips were mere inches away from Loki’s.

Loki’s heart rate also sped up, watching you as you bit your lip and your cheeks became that familiar shade of pink.

Without thinking, he pulled your head down and kissed you softly on the lips, and then pressed his forehead against yours.

Your eyes widened after the kiss, and Loki quickly pulled away with a worried look on his face. He was about to say something, but then you pulled your head back down, colliding once more with Loki’s lips.

This kiss was more heated, proving how long both of you had waited for this moment. His tongue found yours, enwrapping it. Eventually you had to force yourself to come up for air, mesmerized in the moment.

“Wow.” You breathed, processing what just happened. Loki caught his own breath, relieved that you hadn’t stormed out of the room yet.

“Wow indeed.” He chuckled, sporting a blush of his own.

“I was not expecting that.” You said, shaking your head, still finding it hard to believe. Loki shrugged. “I have a tendency to be sporadic.” You laughed at his comment, letting your body rest on his.

“What does this mean?” You asked, head leaning on his chest. Loki smiled, stroking your hair with his hand. “It means, darling, that next time you want to learn more about me, you can come straight to me.”

You buried your face into his chest, causing him to laugh. “Don’t be embarrassed, I find it adorable that you want to learn more about me.”

You brought your head up, remembering something you had read in the book. “Well, I do have one question.”

Loki nodded for you to continue, and you hesitated before asking him. “Is it really true that you birthed a horse?” You asked, causing him to laugh.

“No. That was an illusion, which made for an excellent prank. Especially if it made it into your Midguardian books.” He said, and you laughed.

“What did Thor say?” You asked, finding it hard to imagine Thor seeing Loki give birth to a horse.

“Oh, he didn’t say anything. He screamed and then went to get Mother.” Loki said, smiling, still playing with your hair.

“Yeah. He would do that, wouldn’t he?” You chuckled, and Loki nodded. “It was hilarious. Frandal made fun of him for screaming so loud for a whole month after. Rumor has it the entire realm could hear.”

You snorted, not even beginning to imagine the ears that must have broken from Thor’s scream. After all, he was the god of thunder.

“Now, how about we get you some dinner?” You nodded, recognizing that you were hungry, and Loki picked you up bridal-style, carrying you to the elevator.

“Loki, put me down!” You squealed, grabbing ahold of his neck. He continued to carry you, pressing the button of the elevator to call it down.

“We can’t let the princess tire herself from walking when her prince can carry her instead now dear, can we?” You blushed and playfully slapped him on the arm.

The elevator dinged, and the doors opened, revealing one very surprised-and-pissed-looking Tony Stark, glaring at you and Loki.

“What the fu-”

~~~~~ I really hope you liked this! Have a great day everyone!

#loki fanfic #loki fluff #loki #fanfic #marvel #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki request #loki friggason #I love Loki #norse mythology

163 notes · View notes

nuhuhwinniethepooh · 5 months

Text

D-rink

I honestly just wrote whatever came to my mind 🥲 so please don't come after me if its inconsistent

Geto x Gn!reader

Trope: Lil' angst at the start then Boom! Fluff, Suguru can't skate ?¿

Preview : Holding your icy hands in his, the ice around his heart slowly starts to melt.

◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇

Geto was exhausted of everything.

The back-to-back missions, the disgusting taste of the curses he consumed still on his lips, the constant lack of sleep and the small but constant pull of darkness that came every now and then, had taken its toll on him. He could literally feel the mental and physical exhaustion build a protective, icy wall around his heart as if to numb him from the world.

With a long tired sigh, he drags his feet across the polished wooden floor in the students dorm towards his room, only to stop at the sight of you.

Geto watches you curiously, exhaustion currently forgotten, as he watches you shift your weight from each foot while bringing a raised hand towards the door before pulling it back again, hesitation on your face. "Y/n?"

You startle at the voice, quickly turning around to look and relaxing when you realize it was him. "Suguru, you scared me."

Suguru smiles," I didn't mean to, sorry. What are you doing here though?"

He curiously quirks his head to the side as he watches the metaphorical gears in your head turn to answer his question and he chuckles, his first real chuckle in a long time. You look up at the sound with a small smile on your face, gaining a little confidence with every passing second.

"I just wanted to ask if you wanted to hang out right now and go somewhere in the evening, there's an ice rink I know that has a 40% discount on drinks today. So are you free? You can decline if you want to!" you quickly say as you watch him contemplate between your offer and a few hours of proper sleep before sighing, a slight frown appearing on his face as he feels the small, familiar tug of darkness.

"Are you okay?," you ask, not missing the change of emotions in him. Suguru looks at your worried expressions and sighs, he couldn't do it after all, at least not with the state he was in right now.

Suguru flashes an apologetic smile," I'm sorry, but I think I'll have to decline. I really need to catch up on my sleep but you could go ask Satoru or Shoko though, I'm sure they'd love to tag along." You give a quiet nod before looking down, tugging a few guilt strings in Suguru but he pushes it down, he really couldn't be with you when he was so...unstable.

"Oh well, nothing we can about that! Goodnight then...just ring me up if you change your mind!," you say quickly, looking back up as you wave at him and start to walk towards the opposite direction from where he came from. Suguru holds the urge to call you back as he watches your silhouette vanish in the turning before sighing again, only to see your head suddenly pop back out from the turning.

"Dont forget to ring me up if you do change your mind, okay?!," You yell before vanishing again, leaving a startled Suguru standing in the hallway. A laugh bubbles from within him as he stands laughing by himself in the hallway, entering his room with a smile on his face. He tucks himself to bed still chuckling, finally falling asleep with a small smile gracing his face.

The alarm rings.

Suguru groans, as he shuts the alarm with a thud and opens an eye to look at the time, 5 : 38 in the evening....

He lies in bed, wide awake...with nothing to do... before he realizes his own thought process, Suguru reaches for his phone and calls you. Your voice muttering a muffled greeting breaking him from his reverie as he returns the greeting, quickly putting you on speaker.

"Suguru? What's up? Need something?"

"Just wanted to ask if the ice rink offer was still up or am I too late for that?"

"It's still up! Are you sure though? I thought you wanted to catch up on your sleep, it's only been a few hours."

"I'm sure, I've slept enough for the day. I don't think I could sleep more even if I tried, so what's the timing?"

"It's opens at 7! We have more than enough time!," You chirp back, excitement apparent even from the other side of the speaker. He softly laughs at your ensuing excitement," That's great, I'll come pick you up around 6 : 40, then. Is that fine?"

"Totally!"

"Well then, I guess I'll see you again at 6:40."

"Yup! See ya' at 6 : 40!"

The call ends and slowly Suguru sits up, small bursts of excitement growing in him at the thought of spending time with you, he looks at the time again.

5 : 43, he grins, he better start hurrying up.

At exactly 6 : 40, there's a knock on your door.

"Come in!" You yell towards the door as you bend down to hurriedly tie your shoelaces. The door swings open and all you see at first was a pair of shoes walking towards the bed, looking up only to see an Suguru's amused gaze meet your frustrated ones.

"Can't ties your own laces?" He asks teasingly as he watches you continue to struggle, you mumble incoherent words at him which earns you a small amused snort from his side.

"It's refusing to co-operate right now! I swear the laces in my shoes somehow grows longer only when I'm in a hurry!," You grumble under your breathe as you struggle to tie the extra-long laces on your shoe properly without it flopping around.

Sensing your growing frustration, Suguru smiles and bends down to push your hands away," Let me do it, the day would be over by the time you tie it," he teases as he gets to work.

You sit up with a huff," I do know how to tie my laces, it's just refusing to co-operate with me right now!" He chuckles at your words before tapping your knees as he points towards his handiwork," Tada! You're all ready now."

You gape at the way the laces was tied into a clover-like shape,"Suguru, you have to teach me how to do that!" He chuckles at your words before pointing at the alarm clock besides your bed,"Maybe next time, though. We're getting late as it is."

You look at the time before quickly scrambling on your feet as you grab Suguru's hand and pulls him hurriedly out of the door and out the school compound," You should've mentioned that earlier!"

Suguru bursts into laughter behind you, struggling to catch up with all the laughing he was doing as you drag him behind you towards the station.

30 minutes and a settled-down Suguru later, you reach the ice-rink area. Grinning at him, you pull him inside, sighing with relief as the cold air washes over the both of you from the closed doors. The registration process didn't take long and soon enough, the both of you had already taken your shoes off inexchange for ice-blades instead.

Puttin' your orders down, you drag Suguru into the rink with a smile.

Knees weak and tumbling over in laughter, you look at the pile in the floor trying to get up only to fall down with a loud oof! Yet again, causing your laughter to double down.

"Suguru-," you wheeze out, taking in large gulps of air as you watch him hold the edge of the rink to support himself. He mumbles something incorrigible as he tries standing, causing you to break into fits of laughs again as you slide over to him.

"Glad I've been making you laugh," he says sarcastically while gingerly walking with the blades.

"You should've told me you couldn't skate, I'd have asked you to go out somewhere else if you did!" you say laughter dying out as you grab him by the arm and pull at him.

"Wait!"

"Oh, don't be such a baby"

You grab his hands and slowly pulls him towards the middle. With him still struggling to stand straight, you release his hands and grab him by the arm while using your other hand to straighten his back with a grin.

"See, it's not that hard once you get used to it!" You exclaim, letting go of his back. He looks at you amazed, slowly removing your hand from his arm and replacing it with his hands. The two of you mindlessly glide along the smooth ice, giggling like idiots and ignoring everyone else, lost in your own world as time seemingly passes by.

The bubble pops as the both of you hear the speaker announce the closing of the rink. The both of you take note of that and slides towards the door to get out of the rink, taking off the ice-skates and putting on normal shoes as you pack your stuffs back in your bag.

"Thanks"

"What for?"

"Taking me out, worryin' about me, handling my mood swings and other things," he mumbles, scratching the back of his neck.

You smile," it was no problem at all, really. Don't mind it."

He smiles back," At least, let me repay you then," your smile grows wider at that.

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure"

"Then let's go get dinner, your treat!"

"Is that all? You don't want anything else?"

"Nuh-uh, just dinner."

He chuckles," Dinner it is."

He holds the door open for you, waiting for you to exit.

"So what do you want for dinner?"

"Steak, lots and lots of steak. I'm starving after all that skating, I do hope you bought enough cash with you cuz I'm gonna burn a hole through your wallet," you say with a chuckle, winking at him.

"I'm starting to regret my offer," Suguru fake groans, following behind you.

You chuckle at his reaction, halting your movements and holding out your hand for him to take," Well, let's hurry up! I'm so hungry I could eat a whole cow!"

He fastens his pace and takes your cold hands into his while chuckling," Sure. I don't want you of all people to starve." You laugh at that, your voice echoing in the deserted area and Suguru joins in, your laughter infectious as a warm feeling slowly envelops him despite the chilly night.

Holding your icy hands into his, the ice around his heart slowly starts to melt.

◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇•◇

THIS WAS LONG BUT WORTH IT! TOOK ME A WHOLE WEEK TO WRITE THIS? I need a damn break (I'm kidding)

Masterlist

#nuhuhwinniepooh #jujutsu kaisen x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu geto #geto x reader #jjk geto #jjk x you #jjk x reader #geto x y/n #jjk suguru #suguru x reader #jjk fluff

46 notes · View notes