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theowritesstuff · 1 year

Text

Everything

Kaz Brekker x gn!healer!reader

Requests: “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” & “You are everything. Everything.” Although I did change it to “You are everything to me. Everything.”

Warnings: bruises, knives, guns, stabbing, blood, murder (feral Kaz)

A/N: Yeah, this is pretty dark guys. If you’ve watched the show/read the books you’ll be fine, but the crows plotlines are usually dark. I actually really like this one though! Italics are Kaz’s thoughts.

Request a prompt with one of my characters!

Kaz Brekker was methodical. He planned everything he could down to the very minute. It was how he was able to become the leader of the Dregs, the Bastard of the Barrel. No one dared cross Kaz, in fear of losing their life.

His crew were nearly as untouchable as he was. Jesper, the sharpshooter. Inej, the wraith. Wylan, the demolitions expert. Nina, the heartrender. And Matthias, the druskelle. They, along with their leader, made up one of the most prominent gangs in Ketterdam.

Then there was you. You were the crow that Kaz kept tucked away from the rest of Ketterdam.

Nina had brought you to Kaz after finding you help a small child with a nasty scrape on his knee. She watched as you guided your hand over the scrape, and the cuts disappeared. She hadn’t seen another Corporalnik in Ketterdam before, and knew that having a healer would help immensely when it came to heists.

Kaz was reluctant to take you in, only agreeing once he’d seen you heal a black eye Jesper had been sporting for a few days. He gave you a room at the Slat, gave you a few kruge, and introduced you to the other crows.

They were all easy to get along with. Nina helped you ease into this new life, often times joining you for meals, or taking walks through the markets with you. You had an obvious initial distaste for Mathias, often times choosing to stay away from the druskelle, but seeing him with Nina quickly put you at ease. Inej was incredibly kind to you, and graciously thanked you whenever you healed her. Wylan and Jesper were easy to get along with, often times too absorbed in each other to be aware of other things going on around them.

Then there was Kaz. It was more difficult to have a working relationship with Kaz, anyone could tell you he usually kept to himself unless he was giving orders or collecting kruge. You tried not to take his indifference to you personally.

You do remember the day things changed between you and Kaz though. The group had all come back from a heist exhausted, some injured, some just tired, but you could see Kaz out of the corner of your eye walking to his room quicker than he usually does. You followed him upstairs, and softly knocked on the door.

“Come in.” He grunted.

You’d never been in Kaz’s room before, you don’t think anyone other than Kaz actually has. It’s dark, and honestly exactly what you’d expected. A bed in the corner, a desk against the wall cluttered with paper, and a wardrobe that he was currently riffing through.

“Is there a reason you’ve decided to grace me with your presence Y/n?” He asks, his tone sharp.

“How did you know it was me?” You shuffle forward, and close his door behind you.

“Everyone else knows not to bother me after a job.” He turned his head towards you slightly, allowing you to catch a glimpse of red on his cheek.

“You’re hurt.” You take a step towards him. He steps back from you instantaneously.

“I’m fine.” He turns back to his wardrobe.

“Saints, why must you be so stubborn?” You sigh. He doesn’t answer you. “I thought you hired me to heal you, so let me do my job.”

It’s his turn to sigh this time. It would be nice to stop the stinging sensation on his face. He glances at you, then gestures you towards him. “Fine.” He sits down in the chair at his desk, and watches you slowly step towards him.

You slowly move towards him, aware of the way his shoulder tense with every step you take. You don’t know exactly what’s happened to him, but you can easily tell he’s got some sort of touch aversion after watching him for a while. The black gloves that never come off his hands are used as another layer to keep others away.

Once you’re standing in front of him you take a look at the thin cut across his cheek. “I didn’t know the bastard of the barrel could bleed.” You murmur.

You don’t fail to miss the slight upward quirk of his lips at your comment. He holds his breath as your fingertips hover over him. He expected to feel the waters rise up in his chest, drowning him, instead he’s surprised to feel warmth from your hand. You’re careful not to actually touch him, pulling away once he’s been healed.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” You ask, stepping away from him.

That was the moment you became more than just the Dregs’ healer. Whenever you went out anywhere Kaz would send Inej with you for protection. He knew how valuable a grisha was in Ketterdam, and he was not going to let someone else take you away. He called you into his office in the Crow Club or his room in the Slat more often. Sometimes he’d need you to heal a paper cut, other times he’d just want your company while he planned out heists. On nights where he came back banged up more than usual he’d bare more skin to you, allowing you to heal him and provide him the comfort a part of him so desperately needed.

He’d never let it be known he was growing some kind of attachment to you. You were a weakness to him, and Kaz Brekker didn’t have any weaknesses.

It didn’t take long for the other crows to figure out something was different between the two of you. Kaz was a cold, corrupt gang leader, but they could see a shift in him when you were near.

He’d give you his coat if you felt cold on the walk from the club back to the Slat. He kept your favorite drink in stock at the Crow Club. He’d look to you for your opinion on plans for heists. He whispered comments to you while he thought the others weren’t paying attention, a smug grin growing on his face as you laughed at what he’d said. Soft isn’t the right word for what Kaz had become when you were near. He was gentle with you.

Jesper caught you sneaking out of Kaz’s room early one morning still in the clothes you’d worn the previous day. He smirked at Kaz as he ate his breakfast for the day.

“Have a pleasant night boss?” He asked over his cup of coffee.

Kaz raises a brow at him, silently asking what he meant.

Jesper simply looks over at you, who is currently in conversation with Nina and Mathias on the other side of the room. His eyes travel back to Kaz, gleaming with mischief.

Kaz looks like he’s about to hit Jesper over the head with the crow’s head of his cane. He gets a stern talking to in Kaz’s office later that day, and is informed that if anyone finds out about his meetings with you, his precious revolvers might end up on someone’s table in the market.

No one mentions any changes they’ve seen in Kaz after that. Everything goes smoothly from then on, until one particular heist.

It was a lot like any other heist, sneak into a place, steal something that costs an exorbitant amount of money, then sell it for twice the price. The problem was Kaz needed someone to sneak into a crowded party, and at that point most of the barrel could pick out any of the crows in a crowd. They needed someone that could be inconspicuous.

It was the perfect job for you. You’d always wanted to go on the crazy adventures your friend went on so often, and this was finally something you could swing.

When you volunteered to step in, Kaz immediately refused. There was a reason he kept you locked away in the Slat during jobs.

No amount of kruge is worth putting your life on the line.

He gives excuse after excuse as to why you can’t be used. You haven’t done this before. You don’t know your way around the building. They need their healer ready to treat them afterwards.

I can’t bear the thought of losing you.

“You don’t even know how to use a weapon.” Kaz sighed, barely looking up at you from the blueprints on his desk.

“Inej can teach me, right?” You turn to the wraith with pleading eyes.

Inej stutters as she looks between you, and the icy stare coming from Kaz.

“Besides, you said that you wanted me to learn how to fight.”

No, I said you should learn to use a weapon. I figured Jesper would let you shoot a few bottles behind the Slat.

“We need them boss. Y/n is our best bet.” Jesper shrugs as he becomes the receiving end of Kaz’s glare.

Kaz looks back down at his blueprints. He knows it’s going to be a busy event, and the others will be spotted on sight. He briefly wonders if he can hire someone else to do the job, but then he looks back up at you. He trusts you, more than he’s trusted anyone in a long time. He knows this is something you’re perfectly capable of, but is it something he’s willing to risk?

“Fine.” He grunts. “But Jesper and Inej will teach you to use their weapons first.”

Your hearts swells up with pride. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thrown yourself over his desk to hug him. “Thank you Kaz. I promise you won’t regret this.”

If only you knew how wrong you had been.

You did train with Inej and Jesper prior to the heist. You even practiced fighting with Mathias a little bit, who was significantly holding back his punches in fear of actually hurting you.

Kaz had made sure to drill his instructions into everyone’s heads, until they could repeat their schedules without thinking about it. Everything had gone to according to plan on the night of, until things took a drastic turn.

He kept an eye on you for as long as he could, until he was needed somewhere else, leaving you in the crowd of the large hall completely isolated from the rest of the group.

You were doing well on your own, slowly becoming more confident as you strolled around and made conversation. You managed to distract all of the merchants with conversation long enough for the crew to get what they needed. It was nearing the time Kaz told you to meet him outside when you were spotted by someone. You vaguely recognized the face, it was a man you’d seen in the Crow Club a few times.

He must’ve known about your affiliation with the crows, because next thing you know you’re being escorted the opposite direction you need to go. You try to stay calm, and remember what Jesper and Inej taught you about fighting, but you know with them holding onto your arms it’ll be near impossible to reach for the knife you have hidden away.

You end up in a courtyard behind the building when they start to question you. Simple things like “why are you here?” and “where are your friends?”. They quickly become aggravated with your innocent act, and become more incessant.

All it took was for one of the men holding you to loosen his grip for you to swing your arm away, and hit him on the side of his face with your elbow. Chaos ensued immediately. You were able to grab your knife, and used it as best you could against the three men fighting you. You had taken a few hits, but were able to stand your ground fairly well, until you felt a sharp pain in your side.

You froze, partially from shock, but mostly from the searing pain you felt. You looked down to see a dagger lodged in your side, being held onto by one of the men. He had a wicked grin on his face as he twisted the knife inside of you. You wailed out as he pulled the knife from your body, and watched as you collapsed to the ground.

“Brekker won’t be able to save you from that, little bird.” He snikered, then ran back inside with the others.

You could feel the blood pooling at your side. You tried to press a hand to the now sticky fabric of your shirt, and put pressure on the wound. You were far too hurt to be able to concentrate your powers to one spot. Your vision started to get spotty when you heard voices above you. A girl’s voice, clearly in distress, and a boy’s voice, sharp and stern.

More hands pressed to your side, then something was wrapped tightly around your waist.

You couldn’t hear what they were actually saying before you felt yourself being picked up, and held in someone’s arms. You looked up to see the figure that was holding you. A bigger build, wide shoulders, blonde hair? Mathias. Had you been conscious enough to speak you would’ve made a joke. Something about a druskelle carrying a grisha to safety. He’d laugh, but retort, telling you about how many times he’s had to save Nina.

You let yourself fall into the darkness after a while, your head lolling against Mathias’ chest. It’s okay, you thought, you knew you weren’t going to make it as soon as he pulled that knife out of you. You just wish you were able to see your friends one last time, to see Kaz one last time.

Kaz could feel his heart thundering in his chest. He tried to keep a calm composure, but anyone of the crows could see the anxiety building up in him. He was barking orders as soon as he saw you laying on the ground, a puddle of your own blood surrounding you. The waves start to build in his chest. He wants to reach out and touch you, to give you any semblance of comfort, because you’re not dead, there’s no way he’s letting you die. He’ll destroy all of Kerch before he lets that happen.

He notices when your head lolls. “Quickly.” He urges the group, speeding his own pace back to the Slat.

Once everyones regrouped they all gather in your room, where Mathias has lain you down on your bed.

Kaz tosses a pouch of coins to Jesper. “Go get some medicine. I don’t care how much it costs. Get the best you can find.”

Inej kneels down next to you, whispering prayers to her saints. Mathias leaves to gather supplies to help you. Nina keeps your heartbeat steady, her hands hovering above your chest.

The waters have reached his lungs now, pulling him down deeper into the ocean. Your blood coats the scarf Inej tied around you earlier, staining the blue material a dark, deep red.

“Saints! Kaz, your heartbeat is obscenely loud! Could you please go anywhere else?” Nina snaps at him.

Kaz doesn’t move for a moment, then quickly leaves your room to go to his own. He attempts to slow his breathing, to calm himself down, but anytime he closes his eyes he sees you again. You and Jordie.

It’s days before he talks to anyone. He only ever leaves his room to step into yours. Nina occupies a chair near your bed, dark circles under her eyes from lack of sleep.

“Still alive.” Is all she says to him. He nods, then retreats back to his room.

He scours any and all information he has about the party, until he finds what might give him some relief. He leaves the Slat early one morning, and doesn’t return until late that evening. The gold crow’s head of his cane is now a bright crimson color. Blood is splattered on his neck, and one can assume his clothes as well, though the black hides it well from anyone giving him a second glance.

Jesper is surprised to see Kaz in such a state, knowing that he liked to keep up appearances.

“Hey boss, you’ve got a little…” he trails off, gesturing to his neck.

“It’s not mine.” He rushes passed Jesper, back to his room to start scrubbing the blood away.

You wake up about a week after the heist. Your throat is dry, and you feel incredibly hungry. Your limbs feel weak when move to sit up.

Nina sits next to you on a chair. She’s slouched over, soft snores falling from her lips. You softly nudge her, and let out a hoarse “Nina.”

She grumbles to herself as she wakes up. “Kaz, they’re fine.” She slowly opens her eyes to see you staring back at her, and she gasps. “Saints! You’re awake!”

You point to the cup that sits next to her, and gulp down the water when she hands it to you.

She stands up and looks towards the door to your room. “I’m going to go get Kaz.”

You grab her wrist before she can leave you. “Please don’t. I don’t think I can deal with incessant “I told you so”s right now.”

Nina scoffs. “Oh please, he’s been worried sick about you. I had to kick him out of here because his heartbeat was distracting me from yours.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. He even paid for some pretty pricey medicine for you. Speaking of which, here, take these.” She holds out a few pills. “Now, I’m going to go get Kaz, and maybe after this near-death experience you two will finally just tell each other that you love one another.”

“What? I don’t-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You shake your head.

“It’s okay, he’s not very good at hiding it either.” She smirks at you before she leaves.

She’s only gone a few minutes before your door swings open with Kaz in your doorway.

“You’re awake.” He says.

You shift so that you’re sitting up on your bed. Kaz closes your door behind him, then sits down in the chair Nina had been using, his eyes trained on the floor ahead.

“I’m sorry about the heist Kaz. But I promise I didn’t tell them anything-”

“I know.”

You furrow your brows. “You know?”

He looks up at you. When he does this, you realize just how close you are to him. You can see every detail in his face. The way his blue eyes sparkled in the dim candlelight of your room. You could brush your leg against his if you shifted. You start to move away from him, afraid of touching him, but stop when what sounds like a plea escapes him.

“Stay.”

You let out the breath you’d been holding, and relax beside him.

“Nina said you were worried about me.” You say softly.

He laughs a little, shaking his head. It’s a sight he’s reserved for just you. “Of course she did.”

“Were you?”

He looks into your eyes as if he’s searching for something. “I was.” He takes a breath, then turns his body so he’s facing you. “You scared me Y/n. I thought you had died, or were close to it. And I…” His admission is quiet. “Don’t make me say it. I can’t say the words.” He hangs his head in shame. The bastard of the barrel can’t admit how he feels.

“I understand.” You nod. “I feel so much love for you Kaz, you consume my every thought. You don’t need to say anything. I understand.”

He looks up at you, surprised. Surprised that someone as pure as you, someone who was literally made to heal, could ever love someone who’s caused so much pain as he has. He slowly removes his right glove, and drops the leather to the ground. He lifts his hand to your face, hovering near your cheek.

“You don’t have to.” You whisper, body frozen.

“I want to.” He takes a deep breath in an attempt to push the waves down, and slowly caresses your cheek. His throat tightens up, and for a moment it feels like he’s drowning again. But he focuses on your warmth, and his breathing slows down again. “You are everything to me. Everything.”

#kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #six of crows #six of crows x reader

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waldau · 3 months

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hii i would like to request a fake dating scoups x reader au where the reader falls first but coups falls harder <3 thank u!

here you go anon, hope you like this :)

reset — choi seungcheol | 2,008 words | fluff, hurt/comfort

cheol brainrot go brrrr

gender neutral reader. warnings: none.

technically speaking, the party’s going fine.

despite how much you want to hate it, it’s going the way parties do. there’s music, there’s alcohol, there’s your own corner if you want to tune out the sound of everything else, and there’s seungcheol’s friends. he’s spent at least half an hour introducing you to everyone — you’ve met a lot of them before, but there’s still some new ones. there’s always new ones.

and even though they’ve been nothing but polite to you, engaging you in conversation and making an effort to learn more about you, you can’t shake off the feeling that this isn’t really where you’re supposed to be.

you don’t know who you were kidding when you agreed to be his fake date for the party. he’s already had a ton of people hanging onto him throughout the course of the night. you’re not sure why he even bothered asking you. he could have asked his manager to find someone that would actually match with him, and maybe create a big splash if it made it to the news.

instead, he’d asked you out.

it won’t make a difference in the news, anyway, he’d said, like he wasn’t aware of the way he shattered your heart with those words. like it was common knowledge that nobody could even imagine the two of you together. like it wasn’t worth anyone’s time or imagination, most of all his.

suddenly, you find the sounds in the room too loud to bear. it’s not the first party you’ve been to, but it’s the first one where you’ve felt truly alone. you’re glad you haven’t touched your drink yet.

no one’s really paying attention to you exclusively, and you’re okay with nodding along and throwing in an occasional response here and there. but then it’s not okay, anymore. you shouldn’t have to be here in the first place, on this stupid fake date you agreed to because of your little crush on seungcheol.

okay, maybe it’s not just a little crush. but the point is that you shouldn’t have to be here hurting your feelings in order to spend a little time with him.

you excuse yourself under the pretense of having to take a call and head towards the balcony. joshua, one of seungcheol’s closest friends, comes up to ask you if everything’s okay. you’ve been friends with him for long enough that he can tell when you're fine and when you're not, but you give him a look that hopefully conveys you want him to let this slide.

“seungcheol mentioned this isn’t really your thing, so let him know if you want to go home. i know he’ll be okay with that.”

you nod wordlessly, words of gratitude stuck in your throat. what seungcheol tells you is true — joshua is just too damn perceptive.

you feel like you can finally take a better breath when the door shuts behind you, separating you from everyone else. the cold air makes you feel better, even if it’s beginning to seep into your skin because of the outfit you’ve worn.

it doesn’t matter, though. you need a bit of a reset.

somehow, it hardly takes four minutes before you feel someone behind you. and it’s not just anyone.

“do you have a death wish or something?”

you choose not to grace him with an answer.

“hey,” seungcheol prompts when you don’t reply. “what’s up?”

“shouldn’t i be asking you that?”

seungcheol steps to your side and looks at you. even though you’re gazing down at the empty road sparsely dotted with streetlights, you can feel his gaze pierce you.

“do you want to go home?” he asks softly.

it hurts. he shouldn’t be this considerate to you and then not like you back. it can't just be one without the other.

“i don’t know, do you?”

he sighs. “okay. i don’t know what i’ve done wrong, but i can tell you’re not comfortable right now. are you done for tonight?”

you shake your head. “i don’t want you to leave because of me. it seemed like you were having fun back there.”

“and you weren’t,” he replies, reading between the lines.

“it doesn’t matter, okay? it’s not your fault i’m not having fun.”

“that’s not how this works,” seungcheol stresses, stepping forward to grip your arms and recoiling a bit. “you’re cold.”

you shrug. another thing that’s not gone well today.

seungcheol takes off his jacket and hands it to you without any hesitation, but you don’t take it. you can’t keep living in your little daydream, living on moments where you think he might love you just a bit more than he would a friend. one of you needs to break the cycle, and if it’s going to be you, you’re prepared.

“seriously, what is wrong with you?” he asks, soft but sharp. you finally look him in the eyes. he has that gaze — the one where it looks like he knows exactly what you’re thinking about. it scares you sometimes, the way he’s so accurate. he must have picked up something from joshua over the years.

“nothing’s wrong with me, cheol,” you say, slightly bitter. “just because i don’t want your jacket doesn’t mean it’s the end of the world.”

"you're right, i'm sorry," he says, taking a step closer to you. "i shouldn't have said it like that. but...it's not just about the jacket. at first i thought i caught you on an off day, but you seemed fine till we got here. i don’t know what happened after that. are you hungry? did someone say something to you? do you need me to punch anyone?”

you give him an exasperated look. “you’d punch someone if i asked?”

“in a heartbeat. i thought you knew that by now.”

“and if i was wrong?”

“you’re never wrong when it comes to things like these. and i’d forgive you even if you were.”

"you're too trusting, you know that?"

"well," seungcheol says, lowering the jacket. but it's still in front of you, still on offer. "you're my best friend. i think you have some privilege."

you hate the earnestness in his voice as much as you love it. “i know. sorry.”

“don’t apologize, sweetheart. tell me what’s wrong, and tell me how i can fix it. i’ll do anything.”

“it’s…nothing you can do,” you say, turning away from him. it's most definitely not in his control, but it’s not your fault for loving him, either.

“how will you know if you don’t try?”

“you just know some things, cheol. trust me on that.”

“yeah? like i know you’re hiding something from me right now? something that’s eating my best friend up, and i don’t even know what to do to help?”

again. those two words. they tear you up from the inside just as much as they hold you together. you can’t help the sharp feeling in your throat which indicates tears might be on the way. you're just frustrated at the unfairness of it all. if only life was a little kinder.

seungcheol, ever perceptive, notices immediately. “sweetheart? it’s something i did, isn’t it? something i said?”

you shake your head, not wanting tears to well up.

“don’t lie to me,” he says, draping the jacket over your shoulders and pulling you into his embrace. you push him away, even though you whole body wants nothing more than to be with him.

“please tell me?”

you take in a breath, the cold night air stinging your nose. “you said something.”

“what was it?”

“you said it wouldn’t make a…difference, if i was your date,” you say, focusing so much on not crying that your voice is barely audible to your own ears. “you said it like no one would care if we were together. like it wouldn’t affect you in any way. like i’m just…your best friend. and no one can see me as anything more.”

seungcheol sucks in a sharp breath. “can i hold you? please?”

you almost refuse, but decide otherwise. you’ve spilled out your mind to him, anyway. the least you deserve is a hug from him.

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he breathes into your hair, his arms looped around your waist and holding you close to him. “i didn’t— i’d never say something like that. that’s not what i meant when i said it.”

“then what did you,” mean, you mean to ask, but your breath gets swept away when he presses a kiss to your head.

“it’s just…everyone knows how close we are,” he says, hand gently running up and down your back. “i thought people wouldn’t bat an eye if they assumed we were dating, you know. i know people who already think we are. or…that we should.”

you look up at him at that. he looks serious about what he’s saying, but also shy, like he doesn’t want you looking at him when he’s speaking.

“people?”

“some of my close friends.”

that's news to you. “so you don’t mind…people thinking we’re a thing? or thinking we should be?”

“of course not,” he says, holding you with one hand and tracing your cheekbone with the other. you fall for him just a bit more, right there. “anyone would be lucky to have you. i’d be the luckiest guy to have you.”

he just says things like that, and it makes you wonder if he really means them. so you decide to push him this time, and see where it goes. and blame it on your nerves and the drink you never had if things don’t go well. “would you?”

“want to have you?”

you nod, breath trapped in your throat.

“yeah,” he breathes out, leaning forward and tucking his chin in your shoulder.

you swear your world stops for just a second. you’re hardly even aware that he’s leaning on you now.

"yeah as in?"

“i’d like you to take you out for a real date. if you’ll let me.”

you pull away to look at seungcheol. he’s blushing, but he’s not looking away.

"if i'll let him, he says."

"well?" seungcheol lifts a hand to fix your hair.

“this isn’t a joke?”

he steps back and rubs his face, probably in an attempt to brace himself for whatever he wants to say. it doesn’t work. you like him like this, you think. with his hair messy and his eyes shy.

“of course not. i’d never joke about something like this. especially when it’s you.”

you should be the one who's shy and blushing, and yet there's nowhere else you'd rather look. “what made you…”

seungcheol takes your hands. they're a warm contrast to your cold ones. “i’ve been wrestling with it for a while, and i never told you because i didn’t want things between us to be weird. but i couldn’t keep faking it after i saw you tonight. you look so good, it’s been killing me.”

you shake him off to loop your arms around his neck and pull him down to you, feeling a bit braver. “so if i told you i wanted to leave right now…”

he swallows loud enough for you to hear. “we’d be out of here right now.”

you stand on your tiptoes to bring yourself to his height and place a little kiss on his nose.

he pouts. “that’s it? that’s all i get after confessing to you?”

“i don’t want our first kiss to be in front of an audience, cheol.”

seungcheol smiles. “fair. but i don’t know how much longer i can wait now.”

“you’re going to have to ask me out for real, you know.”

“but you haven’t told me you like me back yet,” seungcheol says. you can hear the whine in his voice and it makes you laugh a bit.

“you need to hear me say it?”

“of course i do! i've spent weeks thinking about tonight.”

“aren't you lucky, then?" you tease.

“the luckiest,” he says solemnly.

it's your turn to blush now.

taglist: @bookyeom @wootify @strnsvt @cloudycaramel @thepoopdokyeomtouched @minnieminshi

#oh the quotation marks are fucked up with this one i can't be bothered to change them #but other than that. it was fun writing this #choi seungcheol #choi seungcheol fluff #seungcheol #seungcheol fluff #coups #scoups fluff #fluff #svt #svt fluff #seventeen fluff #seventeen #waldau writes #req

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oncasette · 11 months

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𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐂. send in a character + a scenario for a blurb + 𝗨𝗠𝗕𝗥𝗘𝗟𝗟𝗔

ok theseus request!!!!! what about some hurt/comfort, maybe him reacting to you crying? + [ CUP ]: bringing both hands up to cup the receiver’s face, the sender draws them in closer to them in order to get a better look at their face. (I feel like this prompt fits the scenario perfectly so yeah <3)

𝗦𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗧 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥, 𝗬𝗢𝗨 𝗦𝗛𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗗’𝗩𝗘 𝗖𝗢𝗠𝗘 𝗢𝗩𝗘𝗥

summary: 1.7k

It’d been all his stupid idea, one you vehemently wanted to run away from. One that struck fear up your spine like lightning and sent fire licking at the base of your skull. An idea that, now, led you to be standing outside his old flat’s front door with ice-cold rain sticking your clothes to your skin and hot tears streaming down your cheeks hours after he’d left you reeling in your own flat.

or the three times theseus asked you to move in with him and the one time you asked.

warnings: implied smut

masterlist | taglist

Moving in with Theseus hadn’t been your idea. It’d been his. Totally, completely, and unarguably his idea. One he’d spent weeks, at this point, convincing you to go through with. An idea you’d initially been so adamant about turning down. But he was nothing if not persistent.

He’d presented you with a key the first night he’d asked. Just a key, warm from where he’d kept it in his coat pocket pressed tight against his chest over the course of his work day. He’d dug it out of the jacket that had been hastily tossed off to the floor near the side of the bed when you’d nearly jumped his bones after he’d apparated back to his flat. You’d already been home–his home, that is–snuggled up in his bed with a cup of tea and a sleep shirt he’d had since his seventh year.

“What’s this?” you asked as he’d handed it to you. His hands shook, and he’d been grateful you failed to make a comment on it.

“A key,” he hummed as you took it.

“But… Thes, I already have a key to your place?” Your eyebrows knitted across your forehead as your statement quirked into a question.

“I know,” he said. “My lease comes up in a month and I…”

You brought a hand up to the side of his jaw, urging him to continue as his lips pressed kisses to your palm.

“I know yours does, too. A week after mine, but I was hoping you’d think about letting it.”

It’s a wonder it hadn’t clicked for you yet. His beautiful, bright girl that amazed him every day, who was making him spell out this question for her, letter by letter, while his heart threatened to give out in his chest.

“Letting it do what?” you asked.

“Run out,” he exhaled. Merlin, his lungs felt heavy.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” you asked, hand dropping to your side as you sat up fully. You brought the top sheet with you, covering the skin Theseus had spent the last hour and a half marking with his teeth. His eyes burned as he followed your movement and leaned his back against the headboard.

“I’d been trying to, yes,” he said.

“Don’t you think it’s a little… I don’t know,” you swallowed, throat dry with a lack of an answer. “Fast?”

“Love, we’ve been together for nearly two years. I thought–”

He’d been cut off with your legs being thrown over the edge of the bed, feet scrambling to hold your body up as your hands reached for the clothes you’d been wearing earlier in the evening.

“I can’t.” With your eyes screwed shut, you tugged your slip back up over your body and crossed the room to grab the shirt you’d come to his flat in–not the one of his you’d been wearing when he’d come home, a sight that has his jaw aching. It’d taken you a minute longer to find your wand, white knuckling it as you pressed a kiss to your boyfriend’s hairline. You were gone within the minute, with the key left at the foot of the bed.

He hadn’t even had the chance to move from the spot you’d left him in.

He’d left it alone enough after that, though his heart had ached each time his hand passed over the weight of the key he still kept in his pocket.

The second time he’d asked–more insinuated, this time–had been at breakfast two weeks later, thankfully, in a less vulnerable state of dress.

“I saw the flat yesterday,” he said, though his eyebrows were raised with the hint that there was more lingering under that statement than you’d wanted. “Unfurnished, that is. I saw it a couple weeks ago when I bought it and everything, but I saw it for the first time since I’d signed the lease on it yesterday.”

“Theseus.”

“Look, I know. I know.” He drew his fist tight as he inhaled. “I know you think it’s too fast, darling.”

“Then why are you doing this?” you asked.

You weren’t even sure why you were fighting it this hard at this point anymore. It was all you’d thought about since he’d asked the first time. And you weren’t going to lie, you’d warmed to the idea. Not that you were ready to admit that, apparently.

He brought your hand up to gently lay kisses on your knuckles. “Just come see it with me, yeah?”

You offered him a pointed look. “Don’t have to make any snap decisions,” he assured you. “Even though I’m desperately hoping that you will.”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Okay?”

“I’ll go look at the flat with you,” you said.

He’d been so eager, the smile he’d given you had been enough to allow him to convince you to stop by the next morning.

It was a lovely flat, honestly. It had a kitchen large enough to house an island, a bedroom much bigger than you’d been anticipating, and a view that had you fully leaning out the window to get a better look at. And, it was a five minute walk away from your office. A fact Theseus had mentioned thirty seconds into your initial walkthrough. A walkthrough that had unsurprisingly consisted of all the reasons Theseus had picked the place. Or, better worded, all the reasons Theseus thought the place would be a perfect fit for you. For the both of you.

“The living room’s the perfect size for your couch, you know. I was thinking you’d want to bring it along if you ever ended up here since you spent so long picking it out and everything…”

“Thes, it’s beautiful. It really is,” you said, stepping closer to him as you watched the corners of his lips twitch into a grin.

He fully bridged the gap then, hands falling to your hips to tug you into his chest. “So?”

“I’ll think about it,” you hummed and he leaned down to kiss you fully.

“Improvement,” he said. “I’ll take it.”

The next couple days had been a constant barrage of dropped hints. It felt like you’d been suffocated beneath the weight of the question, one that hadn’t been asked in its entirety since that first night.

He’d been halfway through one of his… less subtle hints when you snapped. All you’d wanted was time. A bit of time. A tiny, miniature, speck of time to organize your thoughts, and he’d given you just short of what you’d needed.

The key had been dangling from his fingers, for Merlin’s sake, and it took all the strength in your body not to snatch it out of his hands and throw it out the window of your own flat, the one the two of you were currently curled up in.

“Stop it!” you spat. “I said I would think about it, right. I can’t think about anything with the way you’re keeping this up.”

He stalled, fingers wrapping around the gold key to hide it from view. His jaw snapped closed as your own clenched.

“I’m sorry, I just…” you sighed.

“No, I get it. I’ll give you some more time,” he said, a crack of thunder in the distance rumbling overhead as you watched him pull away from you to gather the few belongings he’d brought with him.

He left with little more than a muttered goodbye as he slipped out the door. Not even a kiss, one you’d been hopeful enough to think would come despite your current situation.

You knock on the door with feeble fingers, toes curling in your shoes as your socks meld to the skin of your feet. You wait a minute. Two minutes, nearly three before he throws open the door with only a pair of trousers on.

“What are you-” he cuts himself off. “My love, are you crying?”

You barely manage out a shake of your head, a piss poor attempt at a lie, as a shiver rumbles through your torso.

“Come here, come inside,” he steps aside enough to let you in. He shuts the door once you’re inside, immediately tugging you into his chest where the warmth of his skin does wonders to calm the tremors wracking through you. Both of his hands come up to cup your cheeks, drawing your face into his direct gaze no matter how much you want to shove your nose into his neck and hide from his worrying eyes.

“What is it, darling?” His eyes scan your face as his hands hold the weight of your head up under your jaw. His thumb clears a tear off your cheek before it has the chance to fall. “C’mon, love. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“Please let me live with you,” you sniffle, hands coming up to grasp at the waistband of his pants. The way you’re clinging to him feels desperate, like he’d slip away if you managed to let go.

“What?”

“I’m so sorry I let it go on this long. I’m sorry I ever made you think I don’t want this, want you. It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you sob. “Please let me live with you.”

“I thought you wanted-”

“I thought I did, too,” you hiccup, and Theseus has to fight to hide the smile that’s working its way up his face. “But, then I realized what I really wanted was you. This. All of you.”

“You have me. You’ve always had me darling, promise,” he says. “And obviously I want you to live with me… but are you sure?”

You nod.

“I need to hear you say it, lovely. You’ve kind of been fighting me on this since day one,” he says. “I’m sure,” you say.

#theseus scamander #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander imagine #harry potter #fantastic beasts and where to find them #r's 2.5k #callum turner #callum turner x reader

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sainamoonshine · 1 year

Text

So I know the entire narrative in The Locked Tomb is like « oh ahaha Babs, what a loser » but I genuinely think that there might be something really interesting about him. Babs was the only person in the whole galaxy to know about Ianthe and Corona’s secret. And I’m starting to think that as much of a natural asshole he is, at least 50% of what we see of him in GtN is acting.

Let me explain: he is obviously in puppy love with Corona, and dismissive of Ianthe when Corona is looking. But privately, he is terrified of her. He knows she’s his necromancer and NOT Corona; this is proven when the Second challenges the Sixth, and Corona wants to intervene but Ianthe says no. Ianthe is 100% certain that Babs will do as she says, but Corona is actually surprised. And when he finds Corona duelling Gideon, he is scared and tells her that he will not tell Ianthe. I think Ianthe probably threatened him behind Corona’s back one time or a dozen. And I think Babs isn’t just protecting their secret, he might be trying to protect Corona from Ianthe’s anger too. Being the annoying go-between, the butt of the joke, the meat shield. On purpose.

Pay close attention to when he’s being a contrary asshole for no reason. A lot of it seems to come naturally to him, sure. But also: when Jeannemary finds the human ash and asks for Corona of all people to help her identify the deceased: he immediately redirects attention by being a mega-asshole. Corona ends up not having to do any necromancy; her secret is still safe. Similarly, later on in Dulcinea’s sick room, when everyone is having a discussion about necromancy: he makes a tetchy comment, prompting Corona to whisk him away like ‘oh ahah he’s getting hangry’. How familiar is this routine for them?

I think deep down, while he’s an arrogant dickhead, Babs isn’t evil. He’s shocked and appalled that Silas went and took Dulcinea’s keys, and I don’t think it’s because he wishes he thought of it first, as Jeannemary accuses. I think he genuinely thinks that’s dishonourable. And when Corona tries to stand up for the Sixth and Ianthe says no, Babs follows her order, but is pissed about it.

But hold on, you might say to me, five minutes later HE is the one to issue a challenge to the Sixth!! Yeah, after a tense stare-off with his necromancer. After, perhaps, coming to some conclusions of his own about the Third house’s chances regarding the key situation. Ianthe herself says to Corona: you need a facility key. This is your only chance. Might be that Babs figured something similar!

When Harrow answers the call, his face is frozen in a look that’s both cautious but trying to look though. When Jeannemary jumps on the table, he immediately backs out. Without waiting for Ianthe to call him off. He tries to play it off, but Babs is pretty consistent on NOT wanting to fight the teenager.

In conclusion: the dude is a dick but I think he’s got honour and he is stuck between a rock and a very hard place. AND he fights Ianthe after the lyctoral process for a surprising and impressive long time!

Also: lmao when he jumps off the table he mutters ‘should have just stayed home and gotten married’. Okay??? Babs what’s that about? 👀

#the locked tomb theory #the locked tomb speculation #the locked tomb #naberius tern

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dragonnarrative-writes · 4 months

Text

Part 3 - Meeting Kyle For Coffee

This is not in chronological order but I needed for this to get out of my head. Takes place after the end of Charlie's Charmed!Slasher!Simon series.

(If you don't want to read it, in the end, Simon does serial killer things. What a rascal!)

Slasher Handler Masterlist

Kyle Garrick is just as unreasonably pretty as he ever was, sitting in the cafe and drinking something hot. He’s a bit leaner in the face than you remember from high school. His jaw is sharper, but his smile is still so inviting.

When he spots you coming, his smile seems to light up the whole room.

You say, “Thank you, for agreeing to meet with me. Give me just a minute to order?”

“I ordered you a caramel latte,” he says with a smile. “You still like them?”

“Yeah, I do,” you admit, and sit down.

“I asked them not to start making it until you got here,” he says, taking another sip of his drink. “Figured you’d appreciate it being made fresh. All things considered.”

You blow out a breath and lean back in your chair. “That’s… actually why I wanted to talk to you.”

“I figured,” he says with a grin. “We haven’t talked since just after graduation. We do each other a favor, then say our sad goodbyes. And years later, out of the blue you hit me up? Looking for another favor. Could break a man’s heart.”

You bite your lip and look at the smiling man across from you. A barista appears at your elbow with an almost overfull mug and places it gently on the table. She gives Kyle a grin before flouncing away.

“Cheers,” he says, lifting his own mug in a gentle salute. He waits until you’ve taken a sip to continue. “So, how big is he?”

“What?” When you look up at him, he’s still smiling. His face hasn’t changed. But his brown eyes are flat and empty. Your heart beats just a bit faster.

“How big is he? I don’t do things the way I used to. I need to know so I can make it look like an accident.”

The last time Kyle did you a favor, the coroner had not ruled it an accident. No one had ever been accused of or charged with the death of David Toole-Kirk. But that amount of thallium doesn’t eat a person from the inside out on accident.

“I… um. I didn’t ask you here for that kind of favor,” you say. Your hands are burning where they’re wrapped around your mug. You feel like if you take them off, you’ll freeze under his stare. “I was hoping that you could… give me some advice?”

That brings genuine mirth to Kyle’s eyes. “Oh, this aught to be good.”

“I just… there is a guy,” you say. “Just… Do you… still go… hunting?”

Kyle grins and sits back in his chair. “Hunting?”

“Please answer the question,” you groan.

His grin is wide. His teeth are perfect. “No, can’t say that I do. Bit more of the gardening type now, in my old age.”

“We’re not even thirty,” you say, dumbly.

“This guy you know,” he prompts, barely keeping back laughter. “He likes to… go hunting, then?”

“He’s a pretty avid… hunter,” you say, carefully. “But I was hoping that I might be able to help him find another… hobby?”

Kyle Garrick looks almost ready to burst at the seams with the laughter he’s holding in. If you hadn’t had such a recent and thorough reminder not to get complacent with predators, you might have swatted at him. As it is, you can only clench your jaw as you watch him try and fail to keep a straight face.

“I know,” you hiss, “I know.”

“You really, really don’t,” Kyle wheezes. “Oh my god.”

“He says he doesn’t want to hurt me,” you say, looking around nervously. “But he’s taken me hunting twice, and I can’t do that again.”

That’s what breaks him. He bursts into peals of laughter, peppered with “he’s taken you,”s and “oh my days,”s that fill the whole cafe. It shocks you into giggles.

“Will you quit it!” You eventually whisper-shout.

“How did you manage to meet two of us?” Kyle wipes tears from his eyes. “My word. He’s taken you on hunting trips, and now you want to find him a new hobby.”

“Please,” you hiss. “I’m a little bit desperate and a lot at the end of my rope, here.”

And then Simon Riley’s voice says, right behind you, “Garrick.”

You’re a little bit grateful that Simon’s hands wrap around your wrists from above at the same moment, because otherwise you’d have thrown your coffee in the air. His sternum presses against the crown of your head. You tip your head, just a bit, rolling your eyes up to see him. He’s not looking at you. He’s staring at Kyle.

Kyle grins. “Riley. Good to see you, mate. How’s the family?”

“Still dead, you muppet,” Simon says, pulling out the chair next to you and settling in. When you eye him, he’s got that not-quite-blank look that means he might be thinking about smiling. “How do you know my girl?”

“Went to secondary together,” Kyle says with a grin. “She was bloody terrible at chemistry. Luckily, we got paired up. I helped her with a personal project before she went off to uni. It’s been years. Was pleasantly surprised when she reached out.”

“You’re online?” Simon asks, disdainfully.

“Calls more attention not to be,” Kyle points out.

“Told you,” you can’t help but mumble into your drink.

Simon gives a considering hum and his usual answer. “Technically, I’m dead.” To Kyle he says, not bothering to lower his voice. “If you meet up with her without my permission again, I’ll kill you slow.”

You gape at him, and, daringly, slap his shoulder. “You can’t tell me who I can and can’t hang out with.”

He leans in to kiss your forehead. “Sure, sweetheart.”

#my writing #cod #fanfiction #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #dark fic #simon riley x you #slasher handler #dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction #manic pixie dream ghost

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stellar-skyy · 2 months

Note

hello!! could i order an iced honey and vanilla tea for aventurine?

“order up! i have a drink here for aventurine, an iced honey and vanilla tea!”

☆ — if you're craving a drink, make sure to stop by the teashop!

i. SUMMARY: sometimes, all you need is to feel loved. and, as his closest friend, he will make sure you know you are. ii. CWS & NOTES: reader is insecure. platonic aventurine x gn!reader. hurt/comfort & fluff. 0.8k words. iii. A/N: i was so excited to see someone rq the platonic version of this prompt! also. please know this is my first time writing aventurine and i haven't played most of the penacony questline (i have been spoiled for the entire thing though-) so if the characterization is off i am sorry.

“Why are you friends with me?”

It caught Aventurine off guard, truth be told. For a moment he could only blink, staring at them dumbly while the question fully registered in his head. After a few seconds of processing, he managed a single word: “What?”

“Why are you friends with me?” They repeated, a tinge of frustration coating their words. The question settled in his mind, but still, he was at a loss for words.

How could he possibly answer that, when the two of them had been acquainted for so long that his life and theirs seemed fully intertwined? The question only planted the seed for more to sprout in his mind as he pondered it; whys melting into hows and what ifs. He struggled to imagine a life where he’d never met them all those years ago, a life where he never found someone to dull his sharpened edges and fill some fraction of the emptiness he felt inside.

They were a match that fit too perfectly; two lonely people, who’d tasted a life without solitude and couldn’t quite bring themselves to leave it behind again.

Yet, their friendship was a double-edged sword, one seemed to cut Aventurine from both sides. It took every ounce of self-control in his body to stop himself from digging his claws in and clinging tightly enough to them to make sure they wouldn’t leave. Simultaneously, another part yearned to push them so far away that he would never be able break them like he did with every other bright thing in his life. The thought of being alone again felt suffocating, even if the back of his mind still whispered that it was only his deserved fate.

On good nights, when they were at the tables with him, he insisted they were seated right beside him—his “good luck charm,” as he put it. He chased every moment, the flash of a smile on their lips when the dice roll just right, a barely stifled laugh at his jokes. No victory could outshine the few moments of pure, untainted contentment he felt when they were by his side.

It was almost laughable that they were questioning why he’d chosen them, when he was the one who didn’t deserve someone half as incredible as they were. He should be asking why they had settled for someone cracked and missing as many pieces as he did, not the other way around.

“What about you?” He asked, in lieu of an answer. “Why are you friends with me?”

“I already asked you.” They protested. Aventurine, being the good friend he was, ignored them.

“You’ve known me long enough to be acutely aware of my flaws, and yet you still stick around. Why is that?”

“Uh…” They hesitated for a beat. “You’re not—”

“Don’t deny it. Just answer the question.”

“Well, I guess…” They draw out the first few words, thinking. Aventurine kept his face neutral, despite the pounding of his heart. “Flaws are just flaws, aren’t they? I don’t think you could find a single one here that’s without their fair share. You’re still a good person despite them, and I enjoy your company regardless.”

The back of his throat had grown dry. He bit down on the inside of his cheek to quell the wave of emotions that almost swept him off his feet, forcing them back into the furthest reaches of his mind to unpack later.

“See!” He said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Exactly my point, why would you be any different?”

“That’s not what I was saying.” They murmured, shaking their head.

“What is it then?”

“It’s just… I’m not that important, am I?” They asked, not meeting his eyes. “I mean—You have other friends, don’t you? And if you had the choice, I’m sure you’d rather hang out with them than me, wouldn’t you?”

“You want to make that a bet?” Aventurine raised an eyebrow. “Because, my dear friend, that is a gamble you will lose. For starters, who I find important isn’t up to you; it’s up to me. And me has decided you are an incredibly important friend that I value very deeply. You can stew in your self-pity as much as you want, but that won’t change how much I care about you.”

“You really mean that?” They asked, in an almost inaudible whisper.

“Of course. Can I?” He asked, opening his arms out. They looked up briefly, and gave him a small nod, so he pulled them forward against his chest. He hugged them tightly, as if they would vanish into nothing if he let go. Their hand clutched the back of his jacket, their cheek pressing against his shirt.

Neither of them were without their cracks, it seemed, but maybe that was why they had connected in the first place.

“I’m friends with you because I want to be friends with you,” Aventurine said softly. “You mean the world to me, and it kills me that you don’t realize it.”

He knew he was little more than a hollow shell, but with them, he almost felt whole. It was almost enough for him; he could only hope it would be enough for them too.

reblogs and comments are appreciated! ♡

#✒️ — writing #ty mhie for beta reading this!#[ interstellar teashop ☆ﾟ. ]#・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#—stellaronhvnters.#honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #star rail x reader #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine x reader #platonic hsr x reader #platonic honkai star rail x reader #platonic aventurine x reader

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muffinlance · 9 months

Note

prompt: Ozai has Azula watch Zuko (his progress or rather lack thereof) from way earlier on, possibly even before Aang gets away from the iceberg in the first place

There it is, written at the bottom of his banishment notice, wobbling in and out of his vision and he’s not sure if it's his eyes—

(Father wouldn’t have meant to blind him. Being blind won't help him catch the Avatar, so he’ll just not go blind.)

It’s either his eyes, or. Or the rage. It has to be the rage.

So Zuko reads the line again, and lets the fire brim up and overflow, until sparks chase the shout from his lips.

“Banishment to be overseen by Crown Princess Azula?”

- - -

“Prince Zuko,” Azula says, standing as tall as an eleven year old can. She’s using his title, so that he’ll use hers. And if he doesn’t then he’s ill-mannered and not fit for his own.

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko grits out.

“I’ll just be inspecting your ship, then. Father’s orders.”

Two men are in shackles by the time she’s done.

“—Fostering mutiny against your prince,” she is yelling, and somehow her voice is just as high-pitched as his without sounding childish at all. “When our father hears about this—”

- - -

“So you had them executed,” Fire Lord Ozai inquires. Lightly. And from behind his flames.

“Of course, father,” says the kneeling child. “It was an attack on our family.”

Her father doesn’t say anything.

Azula is eleven. Eleven, she had presumed, was old enough to count.

One, two, three. Four, with Uncle. The royal family.

Her father is silent still.

One. Two.

“Forgive my impertinence, Fire Lord,” she says. “I will bring them to you for judgment next time.”

“Do so,” Fire Lord Ozai says. He does not contest the ‘next time.’

- - -

“Crown Princess Azula,” Zuko says.

“Your bandage is off, brother,” Azula says. “Are you blind?”

“No.”

(The blur of her red robes, the eye-searing glint of sunlight off her headpiece—he’s not blind in that eye. He’s just… still recovering.)

“Lovely,” she says. “Then what’s your excuse for the condition of this ship?”

…He has an increased budget for repairs, by the time she’s done.

- - -

“Brother,” Azula says, “traditionally knives are to be delivered to the back.”

“I… what?” her brother says, still holding out the inexplicable thing. “No, I bought it at port. For you. See, it matches the one Uncle got me.”

“How original,” she says.

Her brother turns a shade of red that puts his bending to shame. Not that it’s a particularly high bar. “Fine, I’ll just—throw it out.”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. At the least, Mai will want it.”

- - -

“Nice knife,” says Mai, looking at the hilt peeking out of Azula’s boot.

“Be silent,” Azula says, thus ending that conversation.

- - -

“Did great-grandfather… did we…” starts her brother, fresh from scurrying about the Eastern Air Temple like some particularly dim-witted pheasant-monkey, the dust not even brushed from his clothes even though he knew her ship was waiting down here. “Azula, there were children—”

“Be silent,” she says.

- - -

“You’re leaving frequently,” comments father, as his knife cuts through the pheasant-monkey, clicking against the plate below. The persimmon-cherry sauce is thick and red and smearing.

“I find it advantageous to cultivate a working knowledge of our nation’s tactics,” Azula answers. She does not push around her meat like a child, but she does eat only lightly; the dish is more sour than she remembers.

“And your brother?”

“Oh, him,” she says, to which her father smiles.

- - -

“...What?” Zuko asks, blinking down at the scrolls.

“It’s your birthday,” Azula says. “Apparently, I should have gotten you a calendar.”

“Thank you?”

She sighs.

- - -

“Do we… tell him we can hear him?” asks the assistant cook, as the prince continues monologuing. Dramatically, and loudly. Through the pipe connecting the drain of the kitchen sink to the ones in the shower.

“Ssh, I think this is one of his new plays.”

- - -

She gets him a calendar for his next birthday. It’s not funny.

- - -

He gets her a doll, for hers. The look on Uncle’s face as she torches it in front of them both is hilarious.

- - -

“Brother,” she says, looking up at the damage to his ship. “This is not the way to requisition additional repair funds.”

“Captain Zhao,” her uncle says in the background, with heights of pleasant antagonism she can only aspire to. As if a general could mistake Zhao’s new insignia. Particularly with all the polishing he does.

“It’s commander now.”

“How did you manage this?” she asks.

“Uh,” Zuko says. “Can we… speak alone?”

She eyes her brother’s shifting stance. Eyes, too, the way Zhao’s men are already moving to intercept and interrogate his crew. One of the new commander’s more noxious habits is stalking her brother’s every move.

Well. She’d been meaning to deal with that, anyway.

Azula snaps her fingers at the commander’s guards.

“Detain him,” she says. And for a moment, just a moment, her dear uncle freezes, as if she were talking about someone he actually cared for.

The guards don’t. She’s trained them better than that.

“Princess,” Commander Zhao says, his snarl well hidden behind a smile. “What is the meaning of this?”

“Crown Princess Azula,” she corrects. “Now hush; the adults are talking.”

- - -

They have an Avatar to catch, apparently. Her brother is coming home.

#her brother is coming home #it may be time for some other changes as well #how does the pheasant-monkey taste father?#oh of course I haven’t had any #you know I haven’t liked that since I was a little girl #are you feeling well father?#why don’t you have a little lie down father #oh is your crown uncomfortable?#let me just remove that for you #hush now #sleep #goodnight father #say hello to grandfather for me #avatar the last airbender #atla #Zuko #Azula #ficlets #yep that prompt hit the spot thanks Anon <3

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halfvalid · 8 months

Text

the blade daughter, pt. 2

ABOUT

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

alternate title: dracule mihawk cures your daddy issues!

rating: mature

characters: live action!roronoa zoro | fem!reader | live action!dracule mihawk | live action!straw hat ensemble

pairing: live action!roronoa zoro x fem!reader

word count: 23.6k total | 8k this part

description: after joining the straw hats on board the going merry, you're confused as to what to do with your life from now—and you can't help but get closer to zoro.

tags: mihawk's daughter!reader, female reader, canon-typical violence, cursing, no use of 'y/n', pet names per mihawk ('dear', 'darling', 'sweetheart', 'little hawk'), emotional hurt/comfort, slow burn, patching of wounds

author’s note: second chapter! i hope you like it <3 out of the three this one's probably my favorite personally, i really like the wound-stitching scene & i think it's one of the best scenes ive ever written. i'm suchhh a slut for the patching up of wounds trope.

You rose before the sun, careful to pack your belongings all in one sack. Considering the very little amount you’d brought, it was a relatively easy task—leaving the sloop would be fine, too, as you paid for the slip for a few months longer at least. Your father had so many ships across so many seas it hardly mattered much anymore.

You double-checked that you had all of your things before shutting down and leaving the sloop, consulting some of the dock men to transfer a boat lift under the berth. You moved carefully across the east port, making quick time as you returned to the Straw Hats’ ship in slip fifty-two.

There were apparent signs of life when you reached the ship, even with the sky cast over in dark hues of navy. All of the dead bodies had been removed, for one, and dock men were loading barrels up on the deck while Sanji watched over them. His expression brightened as his gaze fell across you.

“Lady Dracule!” he called out, slipping off from the barrel on which he’d been perched to meet you at the pier. You gave him an unimpressed look.

“I have a name, you know.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware of that,” Sanji answered, a lopsided grin pulling up the side of his face. You rolled his eyes and introduced yourself, which only prompted a brighter smile and a steady pat of his hand on your back. “A fine name, for a fine woman.”

“Sanji, stop flirting with the crew.” You glanced up to see Nami, one hip cocked to the side with her hand on her waist, staring down with an exasperated glint in her eye. “Welcome aboard the Going Merry. Sorry I was a little grouchy last night. I don’t like having my sleep interrupted.” She leaned down to offer you her hand, and you took it, climbing aboard the ship.

“The Going Merry?”

“Fits it, don’t you think?” Sanji asked from behind you. Nami eyed him again, volume dropping as she tilted her head towards yours.

“He’ll quit with the sweet talk eventually. I’ll give you a tour once we’ve cast off. We’re just waiting for Zoro to get back from town, and then we’re all set.” She turned to bark out another few orders to Sanji— “Finish up with the crates already!”

“Anything you want, madam,” Sanji said with a little bow. Nami let out a long-suffering sigh.

“Luffy already prepared a room for you. I’ll show you to it.” She led you below deck, back towards the ship’s aft. There was a collection of rooms all crammed together, one beside the other. “These are the women’s quarters. Men’s’ are all the way at the front of the ship.” She nodded behind her. “You get this one here. Sorry, it’s small.”

She opened the door to the very last room, and you stepped inside, surveying your surroundings. It wasn’t much; the cabin barely scraped by as a room, consisting of only a wardrobe, a hanging bed, and a small table and chair stuck in the corner. A round window at the very edge of the room revealed the water just a mere few feet below.

“It’ll do fine, thank you,” you said. Your room back at home was far more ornate, but you’d never been picky.

��You can sleep for a few more hours,” Nami said, lingering by the cabin mouth. “Come find me when you’re ready for a tour. We should be setting off in a few moments, if Zoro’s back.”

You gave her a smile, and she left, the patter of her footsteps dying off as she walked further and further away.

It didn’t take you long to get arranged, and afterwards, you gingerly sat down on the bed, the rope tied to the ceiling causing it to sway under you. You were still uncertain about boarding the ship, but you couldn't exactly return to your sloop now. And it wasn’t the worst idea in the world, you tried to convince yourself.

You felt the ship start moving just a few moments later, and you stood up, walking across the rocking ship to get up to the deck. You were making fast time, Loguetown’s silhouette rapidly getting swallowed in the gulp of the horizon.

Nami was bickering with Zoro and Luffy when you found her. “What even took you so long? We were due to leave a half-hour ago.”

“I was getting new swords,” Zoro said calmly. Nami eyed him, then yanked something out of his hand. A wallet, it looked like, stuffed with bills of berry. “You can’t be mad at me. I spent less than half of your budget.”

“They scammed you,” Nami scoffed, eyeing the katanas at Zoro’s hip. Zoro simply shrugged. “A sword for free? It’s probably made of plastic.”

Zoro snorted. “I’d be able to tell.”

Nami cast him a look, gaze unimpressed under the line of her eyelashes. “You can’t tell the difference between a ship mast and a tree.”

“Yeah, but I know swords.”

“Oh, hey!” Luffy, who’d seemed tuned out of his crewmates’ conversation, said as he spotted you. “Glad to see you here. Officially part of the crew.”

“Oh, well…” you hesitated. “Not so sure if I’ll be joining you forever.” Luffy looked confused by that, but not particularly offended—Nami and Zoro had turned to watch you, too, argument dying on trembling legs. “Right now the plan is to help you get to the Grand Line. From there you can drop me home. And then we’ll part ways.”

“If you change your mind…” Luffy trailed off, then patted you on the shoulder. “Nami, were you going to show her around?”

“I was, but I’ve got some mapping to do.” Nami glanced over at Zoro. “Hey. Make yourself useful.”

“I hate you,” Zoro muttered. He brushed past you, just barely motioning with his head for you to follow. “Afterdeck.”

You stepped into the small space. It was easily the most secluded place on the ship deck, decorated with three young tangerine trees in white boxy planters. “I like your trees.”

“They’re Nami’s trees.” Zoro gestured with his head again, and you followed him. The tour was brief; Zoro didn’t have much to say, generally just showing you a room before telling you what it was and departing for the next area.

You were about halfway through the tour when Zoro spoke again, the words abrupt in his throat. He spat them out rather than spoke them, and you got the impression he’d been mulling over talking for a while— “You ever beat your dad in combat?”

You snorted. “No.”

Zoro didn’t look at you, opting instead to push through the next doorway and gesture vaguely around him to show you the surroundings. “Gotten close?”

“Never.” You shrugged. “He taught me the basics, but I wasn’t the best student. He’d try to be strict and everything, but… sword fighting isn’t really my thing. You’re probably better than me.”

Zoro gazed at you skeptically. “He taught you.”

“Yeah.”

“Do you—” He paused, mouth open for a moment before resuming his sentence. He didn’t sound particularly hesitant, but the pause had you stifling a smile anyway, knowing he was at least a little bit flustered. “We should train together.”

“Was that a question?”

“Not really.” Zoro’s lip quirked, one side of his mouth tugging upwards in an odd semblance of a smile. He didn’t seem the type to smile often, though, so it didn’t look out of ordinary on his face. “Have you seen enough of the ship yet, or do you want me to show you the bilge too?”

“I’m good, thanks,” you answered primly. “Now did you want to fight me or not?”

Zoro actually smiled at that.

You decided to train on the main deck, in an area wide enough to not bump into anyone else. You shed your jacket, pulling Hiru out of its scabbard. Zoro winced as the sun hit the silver blade, reflecting a blinding gleam off its surface. “That a stylistic choice?”

“I polish things when I get anxious,” you answered. “So not really.”

“Right.” Zoro untied a black bandana from where it was fixed on his bicep, fingers working fluidly against the knot. Once he got it untied, he wrapped it around his head, tying it carefully around his head. Afterwards, he slid one of his swords out of its scabbard, holding it with his fingers to follow with the other. “How low should my expectations be?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” you answered. Zoro let a soft sound out through his mouth, but he said no more, transferring one sword to each hand. He moved carefully, arms arching over his head to lower to each of his sides. You lifted Hiru up, more casual in your movements than Zoro was.

You paid more attention to Zoro than the actual fight when you started moving. You figured you’d have time to genuinely practice later—you hadn’t kept a close eye on the swordsman in the battle against the pirate hunters, and your curiosity was eating at you. Zoro was all angles when he fought, elbows lifted and limbs pin-straight. That wasn’t to say there was no flexibility in his movements, though—he dodged your oncoming attacks easily, sidestepping with a light twist of the torso so your blade cut air instead of flesh.

Just a few seconds in you could tell Zoro was far, far better than you. You parried one of his attacks, gasp ripping from your throat as you just barely managed to block off a slash from his katana with Hiru. He spun towards you, careful not to actually cut as his blade came for the throat. You managed to dodge just in time, moving backwards with a quick patter of your feet against the wooden deck.

There was barely anything skewed in his motions, you were soon to realize. He was perfect in every sense of the word. Your styles were vastly different, of course—Zoro mainly relied on his blades, and his physicality was carefully practiced, no curves or bends apparent in the straight lines and slants of his body. In comparison, you were much more slippery, focusing mainly on your agility to carry you throughout a fight rather than your strength.

“Your elbow,” Zoro said. You barely managed to respond, letting out a grunt of effort as you blocked Zoro’s oncoming attack.

“Hm?”

Zoro’s katana came from the left. He used the other one to knock your arm up, nearly gentle in his movements, and you were reminded of how Mihawk used to train you—stopping mid-fight to reposition your limbs, using his sword to carefully push your hands in the right places. “You’re dropping it.”

“I don’t care much for angles,” you answered, ducking under Zoro’s incoming blade and sliding off to the side instead of trying to shove against it. Zoro seemed startled by that, struck off-balance as he stumbled, turning to face you.

You jerked your sword towards him, one leg coming up to shove against his torso whilst doing so. You managed to knock him fully off-balance then, and he staggered against his feet, teetering precariously backwards. “Your center of gravity is screwed.”

“You dad kept flinging me around the pier,” Zoro said. You raised your brows, the phrase nonsensical to your ears. But it did sound like Mihawk. “It run in the family?”

“Very funny.” You dodged another slash of Zoro’s swords. “The only thing I picked up well in our lessons was about keeping balance.”

“And dodging, apparently.” You snickered at that, parrying another one of Zoro’s attacks—but it was getting harder and harder, what with the immense strength of his body you simply couldn’t keep up with. As flexible as you were, you weren’t quick enough this time, and Zoro swept you off your feet so you fell to the ground, wind bursting out of your chest all in one rush. Hiru clattered a few feet away, your fingers unfolding from their grip and letting it move freely.

Zoro slid his swords back in their sheaths, letting them close with a satisfying click. “You fight too defensively.”

You lay there for a moment, trying to gather air back into your lungs. “Never found a point in attacking others, really.” You got up, straightening your shirt before bending over to pick Hiru up from the floor. “Good fight.”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, but his voice was weak, tapering off to blend in with the wind. He had an uncertain look on his face, big brown eyes all fuzzy around the edges, like there was some cloudlike film covering him from seeing properly. You frowned at him.

“Is that because I’m worse or better than you expected?” you asked, gesturing vaguely up at his expression. Zoro blinked, the fog over his eyes clearing as he glanced down to meet your gaze. You waited expectantly, but he didn’t say anything. “Zoro?” you prompted.

“Sorry,” Zoro said. “I’m—I’m going to go to my cabin.”

You watched him leave, growing more quizzical by the second. Well, you’d gotten what you’d come there for, anyway. Roronoa Zoro was a great swordsman. And he certainly had the potential to be the greatest in the world, too—a realization that shook you a little, heart trembling from where it was fixed in your chest cavity. You swallowed hard, mind replaying the firm motions of his body from the fight. He’d been confident, sure of himself. You had even forgotten he still hosted Yoru’s slash along his torso from just a week or so prior, he’d been so… perfect.

“He’s good, huh?”

You startled, turning to see Usopp sitting atop a pile of crates like a king on a throne. He was picking at his fingernails. “Zoro,” he clarified. “Best swordsman in the East Blue.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing over at where Zoro had left. “He is.”

Usopp eyed you for a moment. “Your shell phone is ringing.”

You startled, patting down your figure before finally unearthing your phone from where it was tucked safely away in your pocket. You opened it, pushing the den den mushi in your ear as it vibrated, little mouth making soft rumbling sounds to catch your attention. Usopp clearly didn’t know a thing about privacy, though, because he kept watching even as you picked up— “Hello?”

“Back home yet, darling?” Mihawk asked over the line, and you relaxed, your entire body going slack with comfort as you heard the familiar low hum of your father’s voice. “I figured you’d go back as quickly as possible.”

“No, actually,” you said. “Luffy roped me into coming aboard his ship.”

You could practically see Mihawk’s brows lift up in surprise. “You joined the Straw Hat pirate’s crew?”

“No. They’re bringing me home. I’m helping them get to the Grand Line,” you corrected. Mihawk hummed, the sound a crackle of monotony through the den den mushi’s mouth.

“And why, pray tell, would you do that?”

You chewed at your bottom lip, glancing off the side of the Going Merry to the East Blue. The sun had risen fully, fixing itself in a warm beam in the sky. “I was curious about Roronoa Zoro. You never told me why you left him alive. Or why you let Luffy go.” You could still feel Usopp’s gaze on you while you spoke, and you just knew he’d be telling the rest of his crew this after your conversation finished. “So I wanted to figure out your reasoning.”

“Ah,” Mihawk said. “Has he healed from Yoru’s wound yet?”

“It’s not like I tore off his shirt to check, dad,” you muttered. Mihawk barked out a laugh, and you startled at the sound before settling down again. “He walks fine. I saw bandages.”

Mihawk seemed pleased by that. “Wonderful. He’s a hardy one. You should fight him.”

“Already did,” you answered. “He beat me.”

Mihawk considered that for a moment. “Eh, I saw that coming.”

You scoffed. “You have no faith in me. Where are you now?”

“South Blue, still,” Mihawk replied. “Are you at least enjoying yourself there? It’ll be good for you to make friends, sweetheart. You don’t get much social interaction other than me and the villagers, after all.”

“I’m not here to make friends, I’m here to get a ride home,” you said insistently, but your voice was weak, and Mihawk clearly didn’t believe you. Your mind wandered back to Zoro—the firm muscle of his body, the hushed tone he spoke in, and you found your face pinkening. “One of them—one of them wants to kill you. That’s his entire life’s purpose. To murder you.”

“I think you’re being a tad bit broad, darling,” Mihawk said with a click of his tongue. “You seem rather enamored with this particular young swordsman. Something to say?”

“I—” your words fumbled in your mouth, and you were certain you were entirely pink now, the sun’s glowing rays only making your face warmer than it was rapidly turning. “Stop. I’m hanging up now.”

Mihawk’s voice was tastefully dry when he responded. “I’m sure.”

“Shut up, old man,” you grumbled.

“Right. Remember the rule, dear,” Mihawk trilled, and despite his voice being as monotone as ever, you could still identify the undertones of it—laced with syrupy mocking, all teasing and dramatic. “No dating unless he can beat you in combat!”

You actually did hang up this time, practically tearing the den den mushi out of your ear. You huffed out an irritated breath, rubbing a circle into the shell of your snail as an apology just a moment later. “Sorry,” you murmured. “My dad’s a bitch.”

The snail just let out a little grumble in response. You tucked it back into its case and snapped the phone shut.

“Aw, we’re not allowed to say hi?” You spun around at the new voice, glaring upon seeing Sanji and Luffy having joined Usopp in his eavesdropping. Sanji bore a gigantic grin on his face. “Sounded like an interesting conversation.”

“None of you know what boundaries are,” you muttered, but it was light-hearted.

You didn’t see Zoro until suppertime, a fact that rang odd in your head. It seemed like he’d completely evaporated from the ship, disappearing around every corner as you spent the rest of the day getting to know the rest of the crew better. Something had happened, but you weren’t exactly sure what—and you weren’t exactly sure if you were close enough to him to even ask, yet.

Sanji had cooked up a dinner so fine you doubted it could even quality as ship food. From your time traveling with your father, rations on-board hadn’t been much of anything—a few scraps of bread or dried meat, old apples, perhaps some fish if you were lucky. Mihawk hadn’t the biggest priority on eating well, but the Straw Hat crew seemed to have the exact opposite opinion. You were served a bowl of miso soup along with a bowl of rice, and dishes of tofu and oyster sauce stir-fried vegetables were carefully laid out all across the table.

“Bon appétit,” Sanji said, taking a half-bow before slipping into the last seat around the table. “I hope it’s to your liking. Yours especially, Lady Dracule.” He gave you a little wink at that. You just stared at him.

“I thought I told you my name.”

“Well, you did, but I thought Lady Dracule had a nice ring to it.”

“It doesn’t,” you said. Nami stifled a snort, the hand not holding her chopsticks coming up to cover her mouth. Sanji didn’t look the slightest bit dissuaded. You turned your attention on Zoro, who hadn’t spoken a word throughout the whole meal. He was rather studiously focused on his bowl, eyes picking apart the grains of rice like they’d reveal the world’s greatest secrets.

Carefully, you leaned towards Nami, voice coming out in a hushed whisper. “Is he okay?”

“He gets like that sometimes,” Nami answered, her words drowned out by Usopp and Luffy’s cheerful conversation. “Nobody can crack him except for Luffy. I’d just leave him be.”

“You don’t know why?”

Nami just shrugged. “Hell, we’re all depressed sometimes. Not within my rights to question him.”

You nodded, but your gaze didn’t move away from Zoro’s figure. There was a particular squeezing sensation deep in your chest—a little flip-flop thing, a sort of panging you couldn’t quite place. He glanced up, dark eyes meeting yours for just a fraction of a second. But he didn’t flinch away. He just returned your gaze, strong and unblinking.

To your surprise, Zoro was the first to look away, craning his neck to study his bowl again and continuing on like your extended bout of eye contact hadn’t even happened. You watched him, dumbstruck, until Nami nudged you in the shoulder. The rest of the group’s idle chatter had died down, and Usopp and Sanji were staring at you, low murmurs falling out of their mouths. You cleared your throat, finally dropping your gaze from the green-haired swordsman and attempting to ignore the fact everyone had caught you staring.

You didn’t do much of anything after supper—you just returned to your cabin, carefully walking across the creaking boards of the ship. Luffy assigned you mid watch, so you had a few hours to sleep before waking up at midnight to look out for any enemies.

You couldn’t find yourself falling asleep even after you’d slipped into bed. You’d changed, a loose blouse light against your skin, black silk shorts grazing your thighs. It was cold out, so you shrugged on a robe as you headed out into the darkness of the Going Merry. You emerged out on the deck, taking in a breath of the night air as you glanced to see who had the night watch.

Just your luck. It was Zoro.

He seemed tranquil, lounging across a hammock with his white sword—the Wado Ichimonji—cradled in his arms. In the dim light you couldn’t see if his eyes were open or closed, but as you got closer, he cracked one of them open, a gleam reflecting off his right iris. “Hi,” you said, moving over to the side of the ship to watch the waves on the water.

Zoro didn’t deign to respond, so you just stood there, watching the sea lap at the side of the ship until eventually the hour struck twelve. Zoro left soundlessly. You stayed awake all throughout your watch until Usopp came to relieve you of your duties.

Zoro was avoiding you.

A few days had passed since you first boarded the Going Merry. They hadn’t been of much interest—just days of practicing with your sword and chatting with the crew, for the most part. You helped around the ship, completing various tasks apparently none of the members knew or cared enough to do. You were just emerging from the bilge, having done basic maintenance to ensure everything was working properly, when you bumped into him. The man was apparently taking a nap, though you couldn’t figure out why the storage area was a very good place to sleep. Still, he seemed comfortable enough, long body splayed along a grouping of crates.

“Hi,” you said, for what seemed like the hundredth time over a few days. Zoro just averted his gaze and let out a little grunt in response. You stared at him for a moment. The realization had dawned on you ever since the first day, but it was growing more and more apparent, and you were baffled as to what you’d done to incur the silent treatment.

“Hi,” you repeated, more purposefully this time.

“Hey,” Zoro said, though the word was clearly bitter in his mouth. You propped your hands on your hips and stared down at him.

“You’re avoiding me.”

Zoro closed his eyes, expression not even changing. “You’re not that special.”

“Ever since we fought that one time, you’ve been ignoring me,” you barreled on, entirely ignoring his quip. Zoro cocked a brow, eyes still closed, and you glared down at it. “I’d like to know why.”

“Why do you care? We’re not friends.”

“Isn’t it natural to want to know why someone is mad at you?” you demanded, perplexed. Zoro sighed then, shifting around on his boxes.

“I’m not mad at you.” You heaved out a sigh even more irritated than Zoro’s. Your experience in the realm of dealing with close-lipped men’s personal issues was, unfortunately, rather well-seasoned. You’d had to coax situations out of your father, one hand pressed against Yoru’s hilt to prevent Mihawk from lashing out his frustrations rather than explaining them. But that didn’t mean you were all too fond of it.

“Okay, well, why else would you be ignoring me then?”

Zoro’s response was annoyingly frank. “It’s not really any of your business.”

You pursed your lips, trying to suppress the irritated noise that threatened to burst from your throat. “I don’t like being on bad terms with people,” you started. “If I did something to piss you off, I’d very much like it if you—”

The floor slipped out from underneath you before you could finish your sentence. You fell with a graceless clatter, lurching forward into the stack of crates Zoro was leaning on, words dying on your tongue. The entire boat trembled, quivering from side to side as if the ocean waves had suddenly propelled a thousand more ripples at its surface.

Zoro sat immediately up, one hand pushing you off of him as he scrambled off the crates. “What was that?”

“I don’t—” Just a moment after regaining your balance, there was another dull thud and a row of quivers. You remained steady this time, glancing carefully around you before you and Zoro were both hurrying up towards the ship deck. The Going Merry was in chaos when you emerged, Nami at the helm while Sanji was firing up a cannon beside her.

“What’s going on?” you demanded, the tails of your coat lapping around your calves as you hurried up besides Luffy.

“Pirates,” Luffy said grimly, nodding towards a ship that was quickly gaining on you. “They blew through the stern railing. Do any of you recognize the jolly roger?”

You glanced up, taking in the billowing sail boasting a pure-white jolly roger with a top hat and mustache. “Nope. These things are getting more and more ridiculous,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Luffy agreed, affronted. “Ours is way better.”

You turned your gaze up at the Straw Hat crew’s aforementioned jolly roger. “...No comment.”

“We can’t outrun them!” Nami shouted from her place at the helm. Sanji had successfully nailed a cannonball into the railing of the oncoming ship, but they had a dozen more men. “I’m going to try to get closer. Best chance we have is one-on-one combat.” She turned to fix the small grouping with a glare. “Don’t just stand there. Get to it!”

You launched into action, hurrying to climb up the rigging to get a better view as Nami veered hard to starboard. The enemy ship had dropped their cannons, and you could see them preparing to board the Merry, grabbing onto loose ropes of rigging. “They’re going to swing over,” you reported, watching as the ship tilted in your direction, gaining on you. “I see maybe two or three dozen men.”

You hesitated, glancing around at the rather stationary crew around you. Your lip tugged between your teeth, and you stood there for a moment, unspoken words heavy on your tongue. You could see the captain yelling out orders on the ship across from you, and you turned abruptly, fixing Sanji with a look.

“Sanji, trade with Usopp. I want you to nail a cannon at their port stern.”

“W—What? Me?” Usopp stuttered. You nodded.

“I want Sanji on the frontlines. That should be close enough now.” You gazed out at the rapidly thinning gap between the two ships. One final cannonball whizzed towards, and you ducked, watching as it just brushed the side of the Merry. The ship rocked, and you tightened your grip on the rigging, satisfied to see it’d barely left a mark.

“They’re coming over,” Sanji reported, and you nodded, sliding Hiru out from your scabbard as enemy pirates started swinging over on ropes. Luffy was the first to react, an arching, rubbery limb catching one of them midair and yanking them down into the ocean. Boots thudded on the ground as the enemy pirates landed aboard the Going Merry.

“Time for a fight,” Zoro murmured, barely audible from your left. You jumped down from the rigging, sword coming down to crash against one of the enemy pirates. He reacted slowly, pistol cocking towards your chest—but you just brushed it to the side with Hiru, cutting it straight out his hand and following up with a flurry of sword thrusts.

Besides you, you saw Sanji sliding into battle, spinning on his palms to deliver a mean right hook to someone’s jawbone. An audible crack pierced the air, and you winced, breezing backwards on your feet as two pirates closed in on you.

Luffy seemed to have engaged in a one-on-one with the enemy captain, who was easily identifiable due to the gigantic top hat perched upon his head. He had thick black hair tied neatly back in a ponytail, and a mustache and beard to match. A thick cutlass was tightened in one fist, thrusted towards Luffy—but every sweep was dodged with unbelievable bends of the torso.

You turned your attention away, whipping your sword at the pirates that surrounded you. Hiru clashed with their blades, gleaming silver scraping against theirs. You leaned forward, and the blade before you broke with the pressure, sword snapping under Hiru’s will.

The sword dropped out of the pirate’s hand, and you took the opportunity to pull your leg up, kicking him squarely in the jaw. The other lunged for you, and your fist dug into their torso, hands gripping tight to their belt. You bent over, twisting into his body to push him over your shoulder in a sweeping throw.

He fell to the floor all in one, and you landed a kick to his chest just to ensure he wouldn’t get up again. Another man—bigger, this time, probably half your width and inches taller—gunned for you.

You sidestepped him easily, agility tilting in your favor as you escaped his grasp. It was harder to take this one down—while you could dodge him well enough, and parry his oncoming attacks, he was simply too strong to compete with. Strength isn’t everything, little hawk, Mihawk would always tell you. Everyone has a weakness. Get them off balance. Use your points.

The man delivered a stinging left hook to your torso, and you gasped. He took the opportunity to grab onto your wrist, grip so tight you couldn’t move your hand. Hiru clattered out from between your fingers. You directed a hit with your elbow towards the pirate’s sternum, but it was oddly-placed, and he just sneered down at you.

One of his large fists rose to thud against your skull, and you braced for impact, but the blow never landed. A warm squishing sound of a sword against skin made your entire body shudder, and you turned to stare as your assailant’s head slid cleanly off of his neck.

Zoro was behind him when his body collapsed, sword slick with blood as he spun it lazily around in a hand. “Careful,” he said.

You gaped up at him for merely a second more before you realized your jaw was ajar. You flushed, bending over to fish Hiru up from the floor. “I was fine.”

Zoro just thrust his sword cleanly into the torso of an incoming pirate, eyes not breaking away from yours. He slid it out with a sickening sound, flicking the blood off the blade with a motion of his hand. “A thank you might be nice.”

“Behind you,” you said instead, but Zoro was already reacting. You watched him, an incurable sigh perched on the tip of your tongue. He was good. He was really, really good, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. “Is that most of them?”

“I think—” Zoro cut himself off, glancing over his shoulder as you both hear the familiar yell of Luffy’s voice screaming out one of his final moves. You both watched, soundless, as his foot smashed into the top hat pirate’s face, flinging him all the way across the water straight into the mast of his own ship. Only mere seconds later did the mast crack, the wooden pole falling down in a glorious, wooden heap.

“...Yeah, we’re fine.” Zoro said. He leaned down, grabbing the shirt of one of the fallen pirates to wipe his blade with before sliding it back in its scabbard. “Let’s get out of here.”

“On it.” Nami snapped her bo staff closed—when she’d jumped down into the battle, you were unsure, but she was already returning to her place at the helm. “Toss these bodies off our boat, would you, Zoro?”

“Right.” Zoro bent over, easily picking up the fallen pirate and chucking the corpse overboard without another thought. You watched him the entire time, the strain of his biceps against his skin forming solid ridges up his arms.

“I can clean your swords,” you said, words a bit too late out of your mouth. Zoro glanced up, brow creased. “While you’re doing that.”

Zoro looked uncertain, but he unstrapped the scabbards from his hip, handing the twin katanas to you. You took them, glancing over his figure again. He moved with difficulty, and while you’d originally thought that was because of the bodies’ weight, you now saw the real reason. Lines of crimson were seeping through his shirt, a pool by the left side of his lower abdomen the biggest injured site. You took an involuntary step forward. “You’re hurt.”

“I can treat them later,” Zoro said dismissively. “Gotta clean up the Merry first.”

“No, mosshead, the lady is right,” Sanji said. You startled, not having noticed him slip up beside you. “Usopp and I can manage with waste control, eh?” He winked. “Go clean up.”

Zoro glared at him, the look dripping with malice, but he didn’t argue past that. “Fine,” he said, chucking another body—this one alive—off the side of the ship before straightening. You heard the hitch in his breath as he spoke, along with the near-imperceptible wince of his face. “You good, Luffy?”

“A little hungry,” Luffy responded truthfully. He was still watching the other ship. Fire had started aboard it, and soft billows of black smoke drifted in the air. “Can you cook something up later, Sanji?”

“Got it,” Sanji said. “Tell your first mate to patch up his wound before he bleeds out all over our beautiful deck.”

“The deck isn’t beautiful, it’s got blood and guts all over it,” Zoro muttered.

“Well, have a little respect and don’t add to the mess.” Sanji fixed him with a stern look. Zoro bared his teeth at him in a grimace, extracting a sharp little laugh out of your throat. His eyes brushed over yours, a glimmer of surprise dancing in his irises, before he ducked inside.

“Why are you following me?” Zoro asked flatly, as you entered the cabin he’d gone into. You’d hastened to keep up with him, only a few steps behind before finding the room he’d gone into. Zoro had propped himself up on the hanging bed, loosening the ties of his wrap shirt to expose his bare chest.

“I was wondering if you needed any help with your wounds.” You deposited Zoro’s swords, along with Hiru, on the table in the room, moving closer to him to survey the scene. “If you wanted it.”

Zoro’s gaze met yours, and he said nothing for a moment. “First aid kit’s over there,” he finally said, nodding to the table. You moved towards it, opening up the small box to expose supplies of bandages, needles, stitch string, and disinfectant inside. You carried the box over to the bed, sanitizing your hands before carefully parting the folds of Zoro’s shirt. The cloth stuck to skin, coagulating blood making the shirt peel rather than move. Now that his entire torso was bared, though, you could fully inspect his wounds. There were still bandages from Yoru’s cut, all dirtied up now from his other injuries—you’d have to take them off and re-dress them, so he’d be in the bed for thirty minutes at least.

You turned your attention to the cut by Zoro’s abdomen, deciding it was the most important thing to focus on. The cut wasn’t too deep, but it was gushing a steady flow of blood, and you picked up a towel to press against the wound. “Hold,” you instructed, and Zoro’s fingers brushed against yours as he took a hold of the cloth. “Thanks. I’ve got to take your bandages off, then I’ll clean and dress all the wounds. That one down there might need stitches.”

“How do you know how to do this?” Zoro asked, watching as you unwrapped the previous bandages from around his chest. You were careful to touch his skin as little as possible, distracting yourself with the blood and gauze.

“My dad,” you answered. You’d spent too many late nights patching up a wound Mihawk had brushed off as unimportant, only to wind up bleeding out on your couch. Zoro raised a brow.

“Dracule Mihawk gets injured?”

“Of course he does,” you said with a huff. “Don’t be stupid. He’s a man, just like the rest of you.” The gash from Yoru had fully scabbed over, revealing a long, trembling crust of dark ochre. You finished peeling off all the bandages, and cast them to the side.

“You know a lot.”

“Jack of all trades, master of none,” you quipped. You moved away from the desk to fill a bucket with warm water, dipping a cloth into it and squeezing out the excess. You dabbed around Yoru’s scab with the cloth, careful not to break the shell while still cleaning it of any extra gunk. Then you focused on flushing out the other wounds, wiping across his skin and getting all the little nicks on his chest and arms. Zoro didn’t say a word, but you could feel his eyes boring into your skull, watching you with a hardened intensity that made your insides churn.

You nudged his hand away, examining the big cut. The rag he was holding had filled up with blood, white cotton dyed red and sodden with liquid. Thankfully, the bleeding seemed to have lessened. You wiped up all the last of it with your towel, swiping it against the pills of blood that had caught along the waistband of his trousers. Zoro hissed as you came into contact with the wound. “Sorry,” you murmured.

“Why are you apologizing?”

You frowned at that. “Because it hurt?”

“I thought you were mad at me,” Zoro said stiffly. You raised your brows. “Since… you thought I was annoyed at you, or whatever.”

“Just because you feel a certain kind of way towards me doesn’t mean I reciprocate the same feelings,” you answered, setting aside your towel after deciding everything had been cleaned out well enough. You picked up another cloth, dabbing this one with some alcohol to disinfect the wound. “This is going to sting,” you warned.

Zoro’s jaw clenched, teeth grinding against each other as you flushed out the wound. His torso clenched, and your eyes fell across his exposed midriff, watching the tight skin that was seemingly sculpted into muscles. You glanced away just a moment later, a dusting of warmth brushing over your cheeks. “On that topic,” you hastened to say, trying to distract yourself from the half-naked man in front of you, “Why were you avoiding me?”

Zoro let out a sigh, the sound stuttered as he clenched his jaw again when you brushed your towel against his wound. You waited, taking out a fresh cloth to dab at the other nicks on his body. You examined the wound near his left side again. “Stitches.”

“Great,” Zoro muttered. You ignored him, searching in the kit for some needle and thread. “Can you take the stitches out from your dad’s yet?”

“Ha ha. You’re going to need those for a few more weeks,” you said, without even looking at the scab to check. “Ask me again later. Yoru cuts are deadly.”

Zoro let his eyes flutter closed. “It’s a great sword.”

“Yeah, it is,” you said. You paused from where you were threading the needle, glancing up at Zoro’s face now that you knew he couldn’t catch you staring. He looked so peaceful in this state, eyelashes splayed along his cheeks, dark umber freckles that you hadn’t noticed before splattered across his face. There were dozens of them, skin sun-worn and bearing the marks as proof—constellations of dark brown stars, so similar to his warm, glowing skin it was easy to miss. A five-o’-clock shadow traced around his mouth, and at his left ear, his golden earrings gleamed bright.

“I don’t feel anything,” Zoro said, and you snapped out of your reverie, fingers fumbling to finish threading your needle.

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” you hissed. Zoro snorted.

“Yeah, one I don’t have.” You rolled your eyes, tying off the string and bending down to examine the cut again. It wasn’t too wide—maybe five or six stitches at most. You gave Zoro no warning except for the light brush of your fingers against the wound, and he hissed again.

You glanced up. “Do you want something to bite on?”

“I’m not a toddler,” Zoro sneered. You mouthed his words mockingly, though you didn’t actually speak them, not wanting him to catch you doing such an immature action. You fixed your gaze back on the wound, free hand resting flat against Zoro’s abdomen to steady you—his skin was warm under your palm, and you expected him to say something, but to your surprise, he didn’t even flinch.

The first puncture came carefully. Zoro hissed, the sound of a low rumble in his throat as you felt his abdomen clench under your palm. You forced yourself to continue, pulling the thread fully through the skin before moving onto the other side of the wound. You did it again, carefully to keep the string untangled as it ran through Zoro’s flesh.

“It wasn’t because I was mad at you,” Zoro said abruptly, and you paused, glancing up to look at Zoro’s face. His eyes were still closed, brows contorted tight and mouth bared down into a grimace. “Don’t stop. I wasn’t avoiding you because I was angry. Or because of anything you did.”

“Why, then?” you asked, lowering your head to continue with your stitches. Zoro took in a sharp breath at the next one, the edges of a scream cutting into his breath but not fully escaping from his throat. You were rubbing a comforting circle into his stomach before you could stop yourself—muscle memory from patching up your dad’s wounds. You swallowed hard, but didn’t stop the motions—Zoro didn’t seem offended by them.

His voice was raggedy when he spoke again. “Fighting against you. It reminded me of—my friend, from back then. I told you about her.”

Your lips pursed, but you didn’t stall your actions, running the thread through the hole you’d pricked. “The one you made the promise to?”

“Yeah,” Zoro said, the word falling out all in one breath. You fixed the string tight along the wound, fingers splayed across his stomach warning him for the next puncture. He continued speaking despite it, and your needle hovered over his skin. “We were training together—fuck.”

“Sorry,” you said again, still running your thread through his skin as he heaved out a long, ragged groan from low in his throat.

“We were training together,” he repeated. “Haven’t done that in a while with a girl. So it—” His voice tapered off in another breathy groan. “Reminded me of her. I got bitchy.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said. You were getting close to the end of the wound now, but your actions slowed, just to keep him talking—the words came out all harsh and hesitant, and you got the feeling speaking about his past was a laborious task. Might as well let him have the safety of avoiding your eyes like this while he spoke. “Do I look like her or something?”

Zoro huffed out a laugh. “Ha. No.”

“Okay,” you said. You pierced his skin again—he took this one better, muscles clenching as he sucked in hard. You waited until you finished the stitch to speak again. “Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

“No,” Zoro said. His words pierced the air, weighed heavy with a gasp of pain and a hiss, but it still rang sharp in your ears. He eased out a breath, long and soft. “It was unfair. Can’t help it sometimes, that’s all.”

“That’s fine,” you answered carefully. You threaded one last stitch, both of you mute as you tightened the wound closed with the suture and tied it off. You snipped the string with a pocketknife, using another damp towel to clean up any of the excess blood. “I’m going to dress everything with bandages now. Almost done.”

“Okay,” Zoro said. You reorganized your supplies, tucking away your stitching things to replace with bandages and dressing pads. You washed your hands again, then returned to bend over Zoro’s torso. When you did, you were surprised to see Zoro’s eyes had opened, soft brown irises boring into yours. You swallowed, feeling the burn of his gaze into your skin as you stared at the skin of his midsection.

“I’ll do the big one first, then everything else,” you said carefully. You worked in silence, pressing a dressing pad along the wound and tying it off with some gauze to fix it in place. You moved around his body, bandaging up any cuts you deemed worthy until you finally were left with Yoru’s cut.

It stretched the entire expanse of his torso, from shoulder to hip. It’d been well done, the cut deep but not deep enough to kill as long as someone was fast enough with treatment. You recognized the shape of the cut, the very tip of it thin before Yoru’s mouth caught the skin with the center of his blade. “He did it like this on purpose?” Zoro asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “He’s methodical with most things.” You wrapped gauze around the scab, tightening it up and then finally tying it off by his hip. “I’d keep that on for a few days before replacing it. Keep dressing it for another two weeks or so. It’ll probably start swelling soon, so I can help you drain whatever fluid develops.”

“I’ll let you know,” Zoro said. He was still watching you with those big brown eyes, and a soft shiver traced down your spine. “Thank you.”

“Thank you for saving me from that pirate earlier,” you said. You surveyed him again, though you were careful not to meet his eyes. A long silence filled the space, heavy with something you couldn’t quite place. You ducked your head, busying yourself with putting away the first aid kit. The words fell from your mouth before you could stop them— “I like your earrings.”

“Oh,” Zoro said. Nothing else.

You were pretty sure you liked more than the earrings. You liked the way he fought, even if it scared you sometimes—even if you knew one day he’d probably be able to beat your father. You liked his face; those big brown eyes, soulless at times but holding the world in those glistening irises at others. Those freckles, adorned with the entire galaxy, stars and planets and constellations dotting his cheeks like a mural of life. The way he talked, soft-spoken but utterly real, voice low in his throat, words disturbingly honest.

You didn’t say so, though. You stuck with the earrings, because those were safer.

pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3

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g1rlken · 2 months

Note

hi dolly! 💕i just discovered ur blog n i love ur writing sooo much! 🙈💞 can u pls do 2 or 16 for nate!! 💗💗

you’re so freaking nice woah I love u sm 😠🫶🏼

Prompt: 2. Sunshine x grumpy + 16. Help get out of a toxic relationship

Nate Jacobs x fem!reader

2.7k words

Just the ninth if not the tenth party of the month. Another house party, on a school night, way past her usual bedtime and really overwhelming that it just won’t near its end. Y/n couldn’t bare it sometimes but she had to attended because her boyfriend Ryan did. It was fun though, driving him home as he’d be piss drunk and the party itself had the most obnoxious teenage charm. In order to block out on the godawful bass and flickering lights y/n guided herself into the kitchen when Ryan most probably didn’t even notice.

“Oh what have we here!” Nate exclaimed as he followed in some time after, she jumped down from the kitchen counter where she previously sat with an awkward smile. She’d known of Nate and him partially. They were supposed friends ever since that one term last year where she had to tutor him. Though they didn’t really reconnect after that once she started seeing Ryan. It was somewhat majorly due to him that y/n didn’t see a lot of her friends who seemed potential threats to him.

“Hi” she greeted him awkwardly looking out the door to see if Ryan was coming, she was scared he’d cause a scene if he saw her with Nate. Even if it was just a conversation, two of them at a reasonable distance with a probable small talk following. Ryan wouldn’t have it, he’d loose his shit over her even breathing in the direction of some other guy.

Nate could tell that she was a bit frantic over something and he was fast to connect it was a ‘someone’ rather. “What are you doing here all alone?” He asked pouring himself a glass of water.

“Nothing really just uh-“ she tried thinking of proper words to say. But the soft dread of Ryan walking in any minute made her mind preoccupied.

Nate interrupted her pause, “Beer pong’s too boring for you? Already calculated the probability of winning?” He joked, when she had helped him with math and there were similar questions as such counting probably of winning a coin toss. So it was a small jab from something between them.

A small laugh seemed to escape her genuinely as he correlated their previous connection through maths, “I didn’t think about that wow…” she trailed off, “one throw amongst ten glasses”

“One in ten probability of winning.” He answered his instant calculation.

“I don’t know the glasses are set up like a triangle and they’re not all equally probable to get in, maybe we take like one row at a time and then apply bayes theorem for each-“ she was going off about the self curated math problem between the two of them as he listened intently but looked absolutely clueless so she stopped herself “oh wait I’m rambling aren’t I? Sorry” she cringed to herself letting out a soft chuckle.

“It’s alright sweetheart” he added with a shrug, “I like hearing you talk.”

“Surely because math is so fun isn’t it?” She said sarcastically rolling her eyes at him.

“It’s not. But when you talk like that, it’s fun to watch.” Nate replied just mildly, contrary to his chance making intentions out of this conversation. Even apart from that he did mean that, he’d missed it, her.

“Like what?”

“That…” he pointed to her face vaguely, unable to describe how her eyes lit up and a cheery tone followed her voice whenever she talked about something she liked without being made felt like it was a chore to the listener “You get all smiley...happy. When you talk about something you love”

“Well I don’t necessarily love math.” She told him, it was true. Despite of being good at something, having a passion for it was unilateral to it.

“I guess you love being heard then.” It might just have been a note as Nate mentioned it so casually but as she thought about it, she couldn’t help but wander back to Ryan and how he never listened.

No. That couldn’t be, everyone’s a different lover perhaps “Yeah…” she trailed off with a small smile as her expression fell. Comprehending those moments where talking to Ryan about something in her life would just feel like talking to a wall.

“What’s wrong?” Nate asked catching on her fallen expression.

“What?” She asked confused, nonchalant because surely he wouldn’t fix anything “Nothing…”

“It doesn’t seem like nothing, what’s wrong?”

“What?” She frowned but couldn’t help laugh when she saw his ever so concerned face like her smile falling was that big of a deal. “Nothing’s wrong!” As a joke, she splashed some of the tap water on his flickering it on him through her fingers. She laughed as he took the attack of tiny droplets.

“You did not just-“ if it were some one else he would’ve most probably said the worst cusses in the book but with her he just let out a small huff.

“Did what?” She attempted to sprinkle his face once again but this time he got a hold of her wrists with one of his hands, she couldn’t contain her laughter. It was infectious to him as well, this light hearted moment was flooded all over like a forest fire with an irking voice.

“What the fuck’s going on here?” Ryan seethed, y/n immediately pulled her hands away from Nate’s as that boy strided in.

“W-we uh were just talking” y/n spoke frantically, it was disheartening to Nate to see her all panicky and frantic again, when she was just laughing and at peace a few moments ago.

“That’s what you’ve come up with?” Ryan questioned as he aggressively walked towards her “Why do you always have to slut your way about, everywhere I take you huh?”

“I wasn’t doing anything I swear-we were just talking, I used to tutor him math and we were just reconnecting over it I-“ y/n jumped rapidly to explain herself before Nate could intervene for her.

“Over math huh?” Ryan scoffed “Someone dumb like you? You were talking about math?”

“Hey calm the fuck down alright” Nate interjected before y/n could. “She said we were just talking so we were just talking.” He added authority to her words but it just made things worse.

“This is our matter so can you fuck off?” Ryan barked at Nate, the two weren’t friends but just distant acquaintances. Ryan naturally couldn’t stand anyone trying to talk to her because it was all ‘flirting’ and Nate couldn’t naturally stand y/n because that boy made his sun rays embodied girl feel awful.

“No.” Nate said adamantly “How about you grow a pair and stop being a little bitch about everyone who looks in her direction? Do you not think yourself man enough to keep her or do you have to berate her to have her around?” Nate was poking at him purposely because he himself wanted a go at this guy but he didn’t want y/n to think Nate was the guy who’d throw first punch, even though he wanted to.

But that was it, Nate received the punch he was asking for but he barely flinched very overpowered with his own urge of showing Ryan his place they two were at each other’s throats. This was the exact scene y/n was worried about Ryan creating, she tried to soothe the fight pleading them both but it didn’t work.

“Get off of him!” She kept on trying as she held Ryan from his arm, trying to tug him away but it was distracting him so much from throwing his hands at Nate. Her constant nagging and tugging.

“Get the fuck off me!” Ryan roared at y/n pushing her off of him very aggressively, intently pushing her so hard she fell to the ground and that was when Nate no longer held his punches. He beat the boy bloody red. By now the others had gathered too to help escalate the situation but it was of no help, Nate was like an animal unleashed.

A week since that, y/n couldn’t even meet Nate’s eye. She ignored him in hallways, changing her direction, she sat far across him in class always hurrying out before he could talk. She wouldn’t reply to his messages, not even see them. He hadn’t seen her around with Ryan either in their designated spots around the school so that was a good sign but he just wanted to talk this out with her because he couldn’t understand the relentless feeling of having lost her. Even as a friend. He never regretted having beaten Ryan, he deserved it. Nate was so certain of it. But y/n. He hated thinking she saw him differently after that, his obnoxious rage to protect that he wanted to cherish. Did it repel her? He felt entitled to at least find that out, he’d leave her be to just glance from the sidelines and wait till she’ll finally look his way if that made her happy but he’d like to know.

Another house party after that one with a facade, Nate as he lounged with his friends overheard a group of girls behind him gossiping about how y/n and Ryan are back together. Eavesdropping as his blood boiled he found out that she’ll probably be around here since Ryan’s here. When he heard that he immediately rose to his feet setting down his beer without a care to respond to his mates who asked about his sudden leave, they kept asking where he was going before he was lost in the crowd. He could barely register anything at this point.

As he walked through the crowd in disbelief and anger he finally did find y/n, out in the garden with some other girls he simple pulled her by her arm to himself without a word or explanation to others he received a few woahs he didn’t care for.

Nate would’ve pulled her aside to talk to her if she was standing with Ryan if that boy weren’t to busy getting piss drunk. “Hey!” Y/n resisted trying to walk herself but he continued to drag her with a tight grip on his arm getting to a quieter place by the small space between the backward and out shed. “Nate what are you-“

“What’s wrong with you?” He asked her, brows furrowed.

“What? What are you talking about…” y/n trailed off as some embarrassment and regret creeped within her but she full well knew what he was talking about.

“How are you even seeing Ryan again? Are you out of your mind?!” He exclaimed. He had so much to demand about, Nate swallowed his pride with timid hurt whenever she ignored him. He could bare her dismissiveness but not her sadness.

“Look…” She breathed unable to meet his gaze, “it’s different-“

“It’s different is it? What is tell me, has he come up with more ways to make you feel shitty?”

Remaining silent as she looked to the ground like it was the most interesting thing ever she felt horrible. Even more horrible of the life she could be otherwise leading but the life she was afraid of leaving. Afraid of the change leaving ryan would bring, afraid of its consequence the emotional weight.

“And you’ve been ignoring me this entire time. Do you think I can’t see that?” Nate spoke and this time she looked up increasingly confused at how he could see through her that much “You don’t look at me, always hurry away even right now you can’t even meet my eyes what are you so afraid of?!”

“It’s just…it’s difficult to explain” y/n tried to reply mildly as she sighed on the verge of tears.

“As long as you can explain it to yourself right?” He scoffed, really agitated how she couldn’t see what he could. Nate was an intense lover too, ferocious one that. But he’d never make her feel this miserable if she was his. She wouldn’t even have to be his he just wanted Ryan to leach away from her because she’d be happier exactly like she was before that boy. Constantly governing her and disrespectful. Nate had a bad temper and he was difficult but he’d never be difficult enough to the extent of hurting her.

Now tears brimmed her eyes and he instantly held back from his words realising just how distressing it must be for her “Hey…hey” he urged her raising her chin with his fingers to make him look at him “I shouldn’t have said that I’m sorry…” he apologised but it didn’t stop the tears streaming down her face. “Y/n…it’s alright” he brought her to himself enlacing her into his arms and he rubbed her back letting her cry it out.

“I just don’t know what to do-he—he apologised and he said he’d change and this is the second time this has happened and I-i felt embarrassed to see you because you did so much and yet I went back to him…I keep on doing this, I just, I’m very lost on that account” she wept “He’s my first-first everything and I do really like him but he just makes me miserable and awful. Every second I’m with him I just feel horrible I don’t even want to be here at this party but I am…because of him.”

“Look at me” he said pulling away from the hug to face her but she still kept looking down so Nate cupped her face in his hands “Look” he urged “It’s okay…it’s difficult. You’re learning to love and you’re too attached to him right now. You will get out of it only if you get out of it. You have gotten over much difficult things and you have been okay. You’ll be okay this time around too.”

“How do you know that?” She asked as her voice broke but her tears composed.

“Because I love you.” Nate blurted and didn’t even regret it, almost felt free of letting out a feeling so intense in him whether or not she reciprocated “I love you. I love all of you and I’m not embarrassed to admit it but I want you whole. I want you happy, I promise you i will maintain it and I don’t want you to think of it now” he said wiping her tears “we’re going to go home. I’ll drop you home. You’re not answerable to anyone if you don’t want to be at a place you don’t want to be. You think about Ryan, break up, sort your head out yeah? You deserve better than him because love shouldn’t make you feel awful and miserable. it doesn’t necessarily have to be me or anyone, your own self needs you the most right now. Act right by you.”

Nate drove her home after that, she was truly glad. The car ride was full of a comfortable silence and the genuine serene smile which adorned her face when she told him good night after dropping her off was all worth it to Nate.

Following two days were a bit long as Nate didn’t hear from y/n in any way. She wasn’t even at school. The game day was on the weekend so people rarely came from class these days. Regardless on the game day when he had to play himself he searched for her in the crowd full of people but couldn’t find her. That’s what he told himself weighing light on the fact that she might not have showed up.

He played his well that game, where they won. But he still felt like he had lost somewhat. Since he didn’t have y/n, or a sign of her that could bring his heart some peace. It’s as if his wish was turned alive, he saw y/n come rushing towards the team where everyone was congratulating each other.

He dropped his helmet to the floor when she came running and picked her up in his arms, feeling won, feeling at home. Nate hugged her as if she wouldn’t exist if he let go and likewise. Y/n finally felt liberated, happy, like herself again. Following his word of advise.

Y/n had broken up with Ryan, with a lot of comprehension and conversations with her feelings y/n had reciprocated Nate’s. “I love you too” she replied to what she couldn’t that night at the party and he smiled so hugely kissing her as she was still lifted up into his arms. She kissed him back wrapping her arms around him and like he’d promised, she felt alright again.

HEY!!!! Please let me know your thoughts I will think about it twice a week if you commented a smile face even. Anyways, THANK YOU for reading I love you and go drink water

+is my nate semi non toxic? Yes as a descendant of bob the builder family I fixed him

#nate jacobs #nate jacobs x reader #nate jacobs x you #nate jacobs x y/n #jacob elordi x y/n #jacob elordi x reader #jacob elordi x you

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zepskies · 6 months

Text

Code Red

Pairing: Boaz Priestly x Female Reader

Summary: When you call him for help, Priestly realizes that he finally has the relationship of his dreams.

AN: So I didn’t think I’d ever write for this character, but it was prompted by a lovely anon and encouraged by my friend @thatonewriter15! I hope you enjoy. ❤️

Song Inspo: “Perfect” by Ed Sheeran. “I’ve found a love…”

Word Count: 1,500 Tags/Warnings: Period talk, suggestiveness, mega fluff

He was in the zone.

Four six-inch double buffalo chicken clubs with banana peppers on whole wheat bread (gross, but he wasn’t the one eating ‘em), two spicy Italians, and a tuna on rye.

Priestly wrapped them up with practiced precision and slid them down the line to Piper, Mission Impossible-style. She smiled at his antics and took them and brought them over to Tish at the register.

Priestly had another turkey and provolone on his docket, hold the mayo, when his cell buzzed in his pocket. Today he actually did have pockets. As in, he was wearing joggers, boots, and a graphic tee that said: NO TEQUILA, NO ENTRY.

He swiveled his phone in his hand like a drummer with a drumstick. He smiled when he saw your name flashing across the screen, and he answered it.

“Hey, Beautiful. What’s up?” he asked.

“Boaz, I need you,” you said. To his ears, your voice was sultry, and a bit strained.

He perked up with raised eyebrows.

“What’s holding up the turkey and cheese?” Piper asked.

Boaz held up a finger to the blonde and tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder. His hands busied themselves with the next sandwich order, but he was all too attentive to your every word.

“Oh yeah?” he replied to you. His smile deepened. “Well, that’s convenient. Because I’m craving some of you, baby.”

You gave a breathy chuckle. “Normally I’d take you up on that, but no. I need you. As in, I really need you to do something for me.”

Priestly arched a brow. His brain was already filling up with ideas of how he could best help you. He mentally took an inventory of the “tools” in your nightstand drawer, and which ones he could best use to his advantage when he—

“Uhh, well, I got about one more hour in my shift,” he said, lowering his voice, even as it deepened a notch. “But if Jen covers me, I can be outta here in half the time.”

“Oh my God, good,” you gasped. “I’m in so much fucking pain, you have no idea.”

Priestly blinked, and any thoughts of kinky fun times came to a screeching halt. Concern took over when he realized that the strain in your voice wasn’t from the sexy kind of need.

“What’s wrong?” he asked quickly.

“I’m out of Midol, my uterus is rioting like it’s a Vietnam War protest, and…oh yeah, I need more tampons too,” you said. “But I legitimately cannot move from this couch.”

Priestly couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Ech, I hear ya. Are we in a Code Green, Code Yellow, or Code Red situation?”

Jen glanced over at him from where she was mopping the floor, and she gave him a questioning look.

What’s wrong? she mouthed.

“Code Red, definitely,” you answered with a sigh.

Priestly grimaced in sympathy. He mouthed back to Jen, Code Red.

She nodded in female understanding, and raised a hand that said, Say no more.

“Okay, yeah,” Priestly replied to you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You released a sigh of relief. “And if you want to throw in a Snickers, I wouldn’t hate it.”

He chuckled at that one.

“You got it,” he said. “I’ll be home in T minus an hour, give or take.”

You groaned. “Can’t you just steal a DeLorean or something?”

“You know, I could, but that would mean I’d be going back further into the past before you even needed to call me, and I’d still probably be making sandwiches since I’ve been working here since damn near 2000 B.C. But you know what, they should really call that movie Back to the Present, since they don’t actually go to the future until—”

“Okay,” you had to laugh, even though it was edged with discomfort. “I’ll see you later.”

At the supermarket, after his shift at Beach City Grill, Priestly had most of the supplies he needed for a successful mission. All he was missing was his old enemy on Aisle 2.

Once again, he faced a wall of tampons. All bright colored boxes and numbers and sizes…

Okay, not Code Green, so not the slender ones that might as well be match sticks. Not Yellow, so no to Regular…ah! Here we are. Super Plus.

AKA: Code Red. Complete with leak guard, no latex. He grabbed the blue box and threw it into his basket of essentials, including no less than three assorted chocolate bars and a pint of Ben & Jerrys. He knew his girl, and you liked your Half-Baked ice cream with chocolate chip cookie dough and brownie pieces.

He brought over his haul to the checkout line. Sure enough, Gerry, one of the locals, was finally old enough to buy a case of beer by himself. He glanced at the blue box Priestly was taking out onto the conveyor belt and smirked.

“No slender regulars this time?” Gerry remarked.

Priestly’s smile was tight. “No, Gerald. Slenders are for pussies.”

“Literally,” the blonde beanpole snorted. “What, your girlfriend got a heavy flow this month?”

Priestly rolled his eyes, and his mouth pressed in a line. The word flow still kind of grated on him like nails on a chalkboard, but what irked him more was this guy imagining any part of your intimate parts.

“All right, my girl’s flow is none of your business,” he said. “Once you hit puberty and grow your first pubes, you’ll understand.”

Gerry floundered while Priestly continued on to make his purchases. Even the cashier was smiling, trying not to laugh as he silently gave Priestly his props for a burn well made. Priestly shot the guy a nod and a smile before he left with his spoils.

“Honey, I’m hoooome,” Priestly sing-songed.

He stepped through the door with his keys still jangling in his hand. He was trying to balance the big bag of groceries while closing the door to the apartment he shared with you.

Your head perked up from the living room couch, and your hand slowly curled up, beckoning him over. Priestly obliged you. He peered over the side of the couch and smiled at the way you were all curled up under a throw blanket, already in your pajamas, while FRIENDS reruns played on the TV.

“Finally,” you said with a tired smile. But not the kind of finally that just meant you were impatient for the goods he carried. The kind of finally that also meant you were happy to see him.

He laid a comforting hand on your head, leaned down, and pressed a kiss above your brow. You held him there by the collar of his shirt, prompting him to kiss you for real. Your hand moved up his tattooed neck and your nails gave the back of his head a little scratch, careful not to disrupt the blue mohawk.

He reluctantly pulled away from your lips, just enough to try and gauge how you were feeling.

“How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked.

“Like a beach umbrella in a hurricane,” you replied wryly. “You got the stuff?”

Priestly held the grocery bag tucked under his arm like it was a drug deal.

“Oh, I got the stuff, if you got the money,” he said.

You nodded, and your small smile turned mischievous. “I got your money, Big Man.”

With your hand delicately hooked behind his neck and the other gliding up his arm, he didn’t realize he was falling into a trap.

You tugged his arm hard enough to try and get him to fall over the back of the couch.

“Hey!” he yelped. Yet he also laughed while you tried your best to pull him overboard.

He had to toss the bag of groceries to the floor next to you, but he managed to get over and onto the couch without crushing you. He probably smelled like old sandwich and mayonnaise, but you didn’t seem to care.

You just helped him settle in behind you, with your back to his chest. This was the only way you’d find comfort for your lower back. It had been aching since you woke up this morning.

You grabbed his closest hand and guided it under your overlarge sleep shirt, then under the waistband of your panties. You laid his warm hand flat against your cramping lower belly.

Priestly pressed a kiss behind your ear and tucked his arm underneath your head. He felt the rise and fall of your sigh as you leaned back against him, and his smile softened.

“You’re gonna fall asleep without digging into your treasure trove,” he teased. “I even got your favorite ice cream.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder in interest.

“Half-Baked?” you asked.

“Yep, for extra brownie points. Eh? See what I did there?”

Your body shook with a quiet laugh. You reached your hand back to touch his bearded cheek this time. Your fingers toyed with his many earrings.

“Did you know that you’re my favorite human?” you said. “Like, ever?”

He smiled against your neck. “Could’a sworn I was your third favorite, behind Ben and Jerry.”

“Nope, just you,” you said, snuggling back further into his warmth. “Thank you, baby.”

Priestly realized then that he’d found it.

He’d really, honest to God found the life he didn’t think he’d get, with a woman who didn’t want him to change; who just wanted him to be here.

Though he smirked when you reached for the bag and dug out the pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

“That’s what I thought,” he said.

You giggled. “Shut up.”

AN: Priestly was such a fun character lol. I rewatched 10 Inch Hero this past week and this was the first thing I thought to write! If you liked this, let me know! (And if you want more Priestly.) 😘

Read the Prequel!

If you liked Code Red, read the start of their story:

▶️ The Miracle Man

Priestly Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Tag List:

(Lovelies from my "Everything" tag list. If you want to be tagged on Priestly stuff specifically, check out the Tag List link in my bio.)

@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @ades106 @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @brianochka @branj19 @hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog

@globetrotter28 @charmed-asylum @waywardxwords @deanwinchestersgirl87 @this-is-me19 @rachiem4-blog @sweettimelady @leigh70 @clinicallydepresso @emily-winchester @xiphoidbones @skoveu @nyotamalfoy @kmc1989

#Code Red #10 Inch Hero #Boaz Priestly #Boaz Priestly x reader #Boaz Priestly x female reader #Boaz Priestly x you #jensen ackles characters #jensen ackles #Priestly x reader #Priestly x you #Priestly #Priestly x female reader #zepskies writes

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finalgirleddiemunson · 2 years

Text

Home is Wherever I’m With You (Steve Harrington x Reader)

summary: a collection of scenes from moving in with Steve. (wc 2.6k)

warnings: kissing, cursing, domestic steve, found family, you know the vibes. let me know if I missed anything!

a/n: I’m thinking of making this a multi-part series, one where you could just read any part you wanted out of order, but that all fit in with this reader and Steve. let me know if that’s something y’all are into or not :)

masterlist

-----

In typical Steve fashion, the question of, “Do you want to move in together?” is simultaneously the easiest question in the world to answer and an earth-shattering declaration.

“So I was thinking…” Steve starts. He’s laying across your bed, arms hugging one of your pillows close as he watches you put away laundry. Sort, fold, put away, repeat.

“Dangerous,” You hum.

“Not nice,” he quips without hesitation, used to you.

You giggle then prompt, “You were thinking…?”

“Well your lease is running out here soon…” He’s got this lilt to his voice, the kind that he puts on when he’s trying to seem nonchalant. He’s never been very good at hiding his real feelings though, not to you. “And those apartments on the other side of town just opened up. You know I’ve been trying to get out of my parent’s place for, like, ever, so I’ve been saving up. And now I’m sitting here watching you fold laundry and all I can think about is how I want to fold laundry and make up a bed and pick out dishes with you. I don’t know, that sounds stupid out loud, I guess it was just a thought I had. You can think on it or tell me to shut up about it or-”

“Steve,” you interrupt, not unkindly. “Are you asking if I want to move in together?”

“Well-” He makes an odd gesture with his hands. Drops them back down to his lap and shrugs his shoulders while looking for the right thing to say. He settles on, “Yeah. Is that…something you would want?”

You can’t hide your smile from him as you crawl across your bed until your faces are level to each other. You kiss him, a bright and quick kiss that makes his eyes soften, losing some of the nervous tension in his shoulders. “Yeah. That’s something that I would want.”

His answering smile is bright enough to fill the room.

—

The easiest part of the process is getting the apartment.

A leasing agent shows you around a staged space. You and Steve hold hands through the whole tour, even while he does things like open cabinets and check the faucets because he wisely informed you, “That’s what you’re supposed to do when you tour a new place, babe.”

“How would you know?” You’d responded with a giggle, but shut up when the leasing agent appeared to talk to you about the spacious kitchen with new appliances.

It’s not actually very spacious and you’re positive the appliances aren’t new, but Steve’s thumb runs across the back of your hand and you wouldn’t care if it was the worst apartment in the world, so long as he was the one you’re sharing it with.

—

A few days later, you’re signing papers- the trailing cursive of your signature touching Steve’s as you sign a lease together.

“Okay, and this page is about the no pet policy. So, I guess Dustin can’t come over-” Steve snickers when you hit him. Steve signs at the bottom of the sheet, long fingers flipping to the next one in the stack of papers you both have to go through.

Despite how certain you feel in your decision, you can’t help the galloping beat of your heart.

“Hey,” Steve’s voice is quiet, a soothing balm on your anxiousness, “We don’t have to do this. You can back out now, no hurt feelings. It won’t change anything.”

His hand finds its way to the back of your neck, just holding there. A reassuring weight that conveys how genuine he is, how patient he is with you while he waits for your response.

Your fingers find the bottom of his polo, thumb dragging across the stitching so you don’t have to look in his eyes. See the wide, unconditionally caring expression in his eyes that is undoubtedly mirrored in your own.

It won’t change anything- meaning he wouldn’t hold it against you. He would drop the whole thing now, even when you’re so close to this new future with the two of you. Your Steve, always looking out for you, whatever you need.

But you don’t need reassurances on this.

“You just want the closet to yourself, you can’t fool me.” You sign the final page and push the paper across to Steve. You dare a look up at his face.

He’s smiling- just a small upturn that he’s trying to hide. He shrugs, “It is a nice closet.”

—

Then there’s the moments in between. In the time before your old lease runs out and your new one with Steve begins, you both start to accumulate little things that belong to the two of you.

Date nights are now spent at thrift stores, lovingly picking out mismatched plates that somehow work together. They’re what you can afford, and they’re not perfect, but you love them all the same for the simple fact that they belong to the both of you.

Despite it being only the two of you living in the new place, Steve insists on picking out seven extra plates. And when he finds a mug with the Ghostbusters logo on it, collecting dust pushed back on the thrift store shelf, he handles it with care as he puts it in your cart. You pretend you don’t know why, but file it away to tease him about later.

A few days later, Steve shows up at your apartment door, hauling a box full of things that clink together when he sets it on your counter.

“Cups! And they’ve got cool designs on them.” He looks so proud as he unwraps the tissue paper from around a glass to show you. True to his words, etched into the glass are pictures of fruits, wrapped around the middle.

“Where did you get them?” You examine the designs as he pulls out a set of wine glasses to show you.

“Dustin’s mom was clearing out her cabinets to get new stuff, she asked if I wanted them.”

“Dustin’s mom is offering you glasses now?” You bump your hip against his.

“Yeah, well,” He looks slightly sheepish, “When I went to pick Dustin up the other day she came out and started telling me this big story about how she heard we’re moving in together and she remembered the days when she first moved out of her parents’ house and not having anything and handed me this box.” He gestures to the cardboard like it’s a treasure chest. You suppose, to the two of you, it might as well be.

A different part of the story sticks out to you. “You told Dustin we’re moving in together?” You step in close, arms wrapping around his waist as you peer up at him.

“I think a shorter list would be who I haven’t told we’re moving in together.” He reciprocates your hug, wrapping his arms around you tight, and he doesn’t have the decency to look embarrassed.

You giggle, press a kiss to his jaw. “I’m really excited to live with you, Steve Harrington.”

“You’re okay too, I guess.”

You feel his smile when he kisses the top of your head.

—

The most difficult part of the process is the actual move-in.

While you count your lucky stars that there’s no rain in the forecast, the sun beating down on the two of you is draining you quickly. The heat makes your shirt stick uncomfortably to your back, and your stop every so often to wipe perspiration from your brow.

You’ve hauled more boxes into the space of your new apartment than you care to count, Steve and you passing each other as you both go back and forth from your car and his to collect more things.

There’s a recliner that you acquired from your parent’s storage shoved into the back of your car, and you’re not sure if you can muster up the strength to get it into the apartment.

“Steve, let’s just live out here,” you call, leaning miserably against the side of his car.

He looks equally as tired as he deposits the box he was carrying on the ground in favor of leaning next to you.

He considers your proposal for a moment. “There’s no walk-in closet out here,” he eventually sighs.

“The world is our walk-in closet.” Your head thunks against the metal of the car as you wither a little more.

“Oh right, obviously.” He rubs your shoulders soothingly, fingers scratching against the material of your shirt.

The jingle of a bike bell and the crescendoing sound of arguing voices catches your attention, spine straightening as you look towards the road leading to your apartment complex.

“What the hell?” Steve sounds properly mystified as he spies the source of the noise.

Nothing could have prepared you for the sight of your favorite rag-tag group of high-schoolers coasting down the hill and screeching into the parking lot, pulling their bikes into a space a few spots down from you and Steve.

“I told you taking Ellington Road would have been faster,” Lucas grumbles as he kicks the stand on his bike. Max kicks her skateboard up so she can grab it, appearing to have been riding along on her board while Lucas pulled her with a rope tied to the back of his bike.

“Well we’re here now aren’t we?” Dustin throws his arms up.

“Yeah, but if we took Ellington we could have been here five minutes ago,” Mike points out, not bothering with the kickstand as he lets his bike fall.

“Oh my god, shut up about Ellington or not Ellington,” Max sighs as she ties her hair back.

“Henderson!” Steve calls, arms up in exasperation. For a moment, he and Dustin are mirroring each other, and you chuckle at the picture. All of their heads snap towards you, as though just now noticing you and Steve. “Guys, I told you I can’t give any rides today, we’ve got a lot of moving to do.” Steve’s hands go to his hips as he jerks his head to the boxes spilling out of the back of his car.

“That’s why we’re here!” Dustin’s grin takes over his face. Mike looks a special kind of miserable as he squints from the sun, dark hair even messier than usual from riding his bike.

Steve’s brow furrows, confusion across his face. Lucas elaborates, “Yeah, we’re here to help you move stuff.”

“And to see the new place. They’re already planning on how to get you and Steve to let them crash here whenever they want.” Max smarts as she struts over. She reaches to the Walkman on her hip and she pops out the tape in it, passing it to you. “I liked it,” she says simply, giving you the tape you had let her borrow a few weeks ago. From Max, those three words are a glowing, five-star review and you preen just a bit.

“We are not scouting a new hang out spot. We’ve got Mike’s house for that.” Dustin good-naturedly slaps Mike’s shoulder. Mike rolls his eyes and hits him back.

“I don’t know, you could probably fit at least six sleeping bags in the living room. Maybe more.” You say casually.

Dustin stops. “Are you shitting me?”

You shake your head, trying to disguise your smile, “I’m not shitting you.”

“Well before we do sleeping bag configuration, we have to get all this inside.” Steve cocks a hip, pointing a finger at the group. You’re gaining a much clearer understanding of why he begrudgingly calls himself their babysitter. “So if you shitheads aren’t kidding, grab a box.”

“Aye, aye,” Dustin gives a little salute that Lucas joins in on. The group disperses, Lucas and Max grabbing totes from Steve’s car while Dustin and Mike attempt to brave the recliner in yours.

“Jesus, guys, you’re going to break your backs that way- hold on,” Steve rushes over to Dustin and Mike, already swooping in to help them when they struggle lifting the chair.

Watching them bicker playfully with each other about the best way to get the furniture into the apartment has your chest filling with an aching fondness.

But you have no time to linger in the feeling as Lucas calls out over his shoulder, “Should we take these straight to the kitchen?” and then you’re hurrying inside to show him where to drop the boxes.

—

With the help of your impromptu moving crew, the rest of your and Steve’s things take no time at all. But all of the lifting and moving is still exhausting, which is how all of you end up sprawled across the floor of the living room. You try to cool off in the air circulating from the ceiling fan.

“Yeah, I bet we could totally fit more than six sleeping bags in here,” Dustin muses.

Mike shakes his head. “You’re not accounting for when they get a couch. That could be, like, two sleeping bag spaces gone.”

“Yeah, but then two people could sleep on the couch, you know? No real estate lost,” Lucas points out. The others consider this, eyes focused up on the ceiling, before nodding in agreement.

“Are you guys paying rent now too?” Steve groans, throwing his forearm over his eyes. You roll over a little so he’s within arms length and pat his chest placatingly.

“I’m starving, what do you guys have to eat here?” Dustin lazily pushes on your ankle, the only part of you he can reach from where he’s laying.

You take in the boxes scattered around you and laugh loudly, “Absolutely nothing.” Steve giggles with you.

—

You end up finding two boxes of mac and cheese and a half-eaten bag of candy, squashed in the bottom of a box labeled Kitchen in Steve’s handwriting.

“Only the essentials, right?” You tease, shaking the bag of candy.

“That’s our saving grace right now, I don’t want to hear any backtalk about it.” Steve snaps a dish towel at you as he pulls it from a box and you laugh in delight.

You rummage until you find a pot to cook in, and Steve digs around for bowls and silverware.

Eventually you present your findings to your little house of workers and they let out cheers not befitting of the actual meal you’re giving them.

“A feast for kings,” Dustin praises as he takes a bowl from you. You ruffle his hair in response.

Your scattered belongings get pushed to the edges of the room to make space for everyone. You sit together, making a circle on the floor, and eat your first dinner- scavenged as it may be- in a place that belongs to you and Steve.

You’re listening to the kids argue over something they won’t remember ten minutes from now. You soak up the sounds of having your little family all gathered here, the crinkling of candy wrappers and the quiet scrapes of forks against bowls and the ebbs and flows of their conversation. The apartment is earning the name home.

From where you both sit cross-legged on the floor, Steve bumps his knee against yours. “First meal in our home,” he says, pushing a spoonful of mac and cheese around in his bowl. He grins like it’s a secret. Our home rattles around in your chest, then grows roots and decides to plant itself there.

You kiss his cheek chastely and clink your bowl against his. “Not too shabby for some broke kids.”

“Not too shabby at all,” he agrees. His free hand guides your chin up so he can kiss you properly, a slow drag of his mouth against yours. It’s a lazy, soft thing that promises a million more to come so long as he gets to keep kissing you for right now.

He tastes like home.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #the final girl writes #steve harrington i want to give you the world

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steddieunderdogfics · 4 months

Text

This week's writer spotlight feature is: @lexirosewrites! They have forty-four Stranger Things and forty-three Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson works on archive of our own!!

An anonymous nominator recommends the following works by lexirosewrites:

24-Hour Diner

On Thin Ice

And the Sun will Rise

Bandaids for the Heart

Waking Up In Vegas

A/B/O isn't for everyone, but Lexi writes it in a way that it IS. I've always been a fan of the trope, but Lexi writes A/B/O in a way that expands beyond the basics. They've expanded their universes to play with common A/B/O themes in ways I've never seen -- each one feels fresh and exciting. And yes, they're popular in their own right, but they have so many hidden gems!! I just adore them and the work they've done beyond the tropes and tags. They put so much work into their stories and building their community, pushing through all the fandom bullshit to bring joy to their bubble of fandom. They're easily my go-to author rec for anyone getting into steddie and/or A/B/O and they deserve all of the love!! And if you're seeing this Lexi, thank you for continuing to create and share your beautiful ideas with us. ♥ - anonymous

Below the cut, @lexirosewrites answered some questions about their writing process and some of their recommended work!

Why do you write Steddie?

I love the chemistry that Steve and Eddie have. They’re two people who make no sense together and yet they make so much sense together? They have a good mix of parental issues and they’re on opposite sides of the social spectrum, which makes for a lot of fun exploring their relationship.

What’s your favorite trope to READ?

I’m a sucker for soulmate fics. They’re my true weakness in life.

What’s your favorite trope to WRITE?

I love to write about mutual pining. I enjoy making it clear that both parties are pining and suffering under the delusion that their feelings are unrequited.

What’s your favorite Steddie fic?

This is such a hard question. I don’t read as much as I used to, but the one I reread the most is “Consummate Professional” by Eddywow for sure. It’s just a cute fic and the smut is A+ as well!

Is there a trope you’re excited to explore in a future work but haven’t yet?

I’ve worked through most of my favorite tropes at this point, but I’m excitedly planning a timeloop fic set in the omegaverse.

What is your writing process like?

It’s a bit of a mess, truthfully. I start with unorganized bullet points to brainstorm things I think will happen in the fic and slowly arrange that into a real plot with actual events and not just some loose threads of a story. Then, I just go chapter by chapter to put them in order and make changes as necessary after that.

Do you have any writing quirks?

I write omegaverse fics almost exclusively. Which I’d say probably qualifies as a quirk! I also just have a habit of writing recurring themes in many of my works. For the most part, they all have angst, lots of pining and miscommunication, and a perfectly cozy happy ending with a big bow on it.

Do you prefer posting when you’ve finished writing or on a schedule?

Oh, I hate waiting. The moment a chapter or fic is done and someone has at least skimmed it over for big issues, it gets formatted and posted. The only times I wait are for events like the Big Bang or a gift for someone’s birthday!

Which fic are you most proud of?

“Bandaids for the Heart” is the work closest to my heart because I’m a nurse and I got to use my love for nursing to write about my job and craft a whole story out of it. I’m very proud of how it turned out and the fact that I finished it despite some personal challenges along the way.

How did you get the idea for 24-Hour Diner?

I actually got an ask on tumblr with the prompt that inspired me to write it!

When writing 24-Hour Diner, what was something you didn’t expect?

I actually have a longer Mafia AU fic and I was worried they’d end up being too similar, but I enjoyed finding little ways to distinguish it as its own fic.

What inspired On Thin Ice?

I love to ice skate and a friend in my discord server was gushing about HexieWrites’ “Carve Your Name Into My Chest,” which made me want to explore my figure skating background.

What was your favorite part to write from On Thin Ice?

There’s a scene where Steve gets injured and Eddie has to carry him off the rink. Every story has at least one “that’s the scene I really want to write!” and that was the one for this fic. I love some good hurt/comfort!

Do you have a favorite scene and/or line from any of your fics?

That’s so hard to narrow down, but I’d have to say that it’s a scene from my fic “Bad Beat,” where Steddie are at prom and Eddie pulls out a granola bar from his tux pocket because he knows Steve likes them… even as Steve is fully planning on pranking him for a bet. It’s a heartbreaking scene and I think about it a lot.

Do you have any upcoming projects or fics you’d like to share/promote?

I’ve got lots of upcoming fics, but I can’t share most of the titles yet since they’re gifts! However, I have a The Greatest Showman inspired fic called “A Million Dreams” that’s getting posted in early January!

Outside of these questions, Is there anything YOU would like to add?

I’m honestly so grateful to have the support that I do for how niche most of my fics are. Most people in the Steddie community have been incredibly kind to me and I really appreciate it, even if omegaverse isn’t their cup of tea. I’m just here to have fun and make new friends!

Thank you to our author, @lexirosewrites, and our nominator! See more of @lexirosewrites' work featured on our page throughout the day!

Writer's Spotlight is every Wednesday! Want to nominate an author? You can nominate them here!

#steddie fic recs #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #writer's spotlight #writer's wednesday #lexirosewrites

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builtbybrokenbells · 6 months

Text

CAPITAL VICES | GREED

Greed: an intense and selfish desire for something

Masterlist

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!reader

Word Count: 14k

Warnings: SMUT 18+, unprotected sex, semi public sex, pretty public sex briefly 😭, quickies, fingering (f!receiving), sir kink, lots of dirty talk, touch of degradation, touch of praise, lots of flirting, teasing, cum play I suppose?, name calling, mentions of toxic relationships, brief mentions of abuse/abusive relationships, mentions of cheating, drinking, swearing, fluff, sorry if i miss any!

hi!! i got internet today and finally finished this up. so happy to get back into the swing of things. my second roommate finally moved in and life seems pretty okay for once. as always, enjoy, be kind, and don’t mind any grammar mistakes 🫶🏻 also this chapter is a wholeee lot, some fluff, lots of filth, and for once, not really much angst!! (Lightly edited too, my apologies)

😈: Call me?

The text tone rang through the air, immediately breaking your focus from the screen of your laptop. You read over the message a few times, hating that it immediately prompted a rush of emotion straight through you. It was despicable that he had so much power over you by simply existing, and the fact that he barely said a word made it all the worse. Perhaps the most incriminating notion of it all was that you were ready to drop everything you were doing in exchange for a moment of conversation with him. Instead of feeding into the temptation, you typed back a simple response.

You: Busy.

The read receipt immediately sold him out, letting you know that he was sitting in the chat awaiting your response. Somehow, he knew you wouldn’t comply. It was a tell tale story, him giving you an order and you doing whatever you could to ignore it. Eventually, he got his way, but you did always seem to put in a good effort. Within seconds, his name lit up your screen with an incoming call. You rolled your eyes, debating on whether to answer or decline. After a few moments of awkward staring, you hit the green button. Before you could even utter a greeting, he was already speaking.

“What’s got you so tied up that you can’t talk, angel?” He asked, the sultry tone immediately sending a wave of butterflies through your stomach.

“I don’t think that’s any of your business, Jacob.” You snipped, setting your phone down beside you on the table. After a moment of silence, the vibrations began again, showcasing his request for a video call. This time, he really did begin to get on your nerves. Reluctantly, you accepted. “You’re needy today.” You rattled off the astute observation in an attempt to get under his skin, but it did not seem to bother him. He remained silent instead of spewing out a counter argument, looking a bit tense as he studied the screen. “Christ, what is your problem?” You asked, propping your phone up against your laptop screen.

“What are you doing, sweetheart?” He asked again, relaxing once he’d recognized the familiar paintings hanging on the wall of your bedroom.

“Working.” You said, biting down on the inside of your lip as you zoomed in on the photograph you were editing. Your eyes flickered back to your phone, the sight of his face nearly knocking the breath from your lungs. “I, uh, I’m just working on some wedding pictures.” You found it difficult to keep your rigid exterior when your eyes connected with his, the soft brown immediately warming your cold expression. “Why the video call? Worried there’s another guy in my bed?” He let out a chuckle, but did not deny the accusation. You knew that’s exactly why he called, but he refused to admit to his jealous tendencies. Although there was no relationship between you two, it was quite apparent that the two of you were only concerned with seeing each other.

“It’s nearly six; why are you still working?”

“Just want to finish these up. I’ve had them for a couple weeks now, and I usually don’t like to keep them this long.” You explained, touching up the lighting in the background of the photo. “Someone has been distracting me.”

“I wonder who that is?” He smirked, happy for the recognition.

“Yeah, I wonder.” You rolled your eyes. “Is that why you called? Looking for some late night entertainment?”

“You always think the worst of me, darling.” He smiled, rustling with something off camera. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“You know you don’t have to compliment your way into my bed.” You glanced at your phone, noticing his eyes lingering over you as you spoke.

“Maybe I just wanted to be nice.” He offered, knowing that his compliment had nothing to do with his desire for sex. You were both aware that all he had to do was show up and he would get exactly what he wanted, but it was more than that to him. He liked to call things as they were, and if that meant flattery in any sense, he was more than happy to dish it out.

“You? Being nice?” You raised an eyebrow, unbelieving that the compliment was without any deeper significance. Even after days full of sweet words, you still had difficulty trusting that he was sincere rather than doing all he could to keep you on his hook.

“Oh, shut up.” He dismissed you. “What are you doing in an hour?” Your eyes flickered to the clock in response to his question.

“Well, that depends if you mean exactly an hour from now. At 6:47, I’ll probably still be sitting here working, but at 7, I’ll be cozying up with a bottle of wine, wondering when you’ll come knocking on my door.” He laughed at your need for theatrics, finding your wit incredibly alluring.

“How about at 6:30, you have your hair done and put on a pretty little dress, and at 6:45, you answer the door and let me take you to the bar for a few drinks?” He offered, unwilling to take no for an answer.

“Why would I come with you to the bar when I can get drunk at home?” You questioned, already knowing that you would obey his wish and be waiting for him well before he arrived. It still proved plenty of fun to push his buttons, and you couldn’t resist. “It would be much more peaceful; I wouldn’t have to listen to you all night.”

“You’d love to listen to me all night, don’t fool yourself.” He brushed you off. “I know I’d love to listen to you all night.” His tone dropped as he added the second part, letting you know that conversation was not something he was expecting to come from your mouth by the end of the evening.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” You rolled your eyes. “Why waste your money on drinks when you can come fuck me right now?” You posed the idea, hoping that he might comply with the request so you didn’t have to waste time dressing up. It was a fruitless endeavor anyway, knowing that when he got his hands on you, the dress would be long forgotten and your makeup would be ruined.

“Because I’m going to the bar with my brothers, angel, and I’d really like it if you came, too.”

“That seems awfully domestic.” You muttered. “Meeting the family definitely isn’t my definition of casual.”

“It’s my definition of friends.” He argued. “Besides, you’ve already met Josh. I know you’ll have a great time.” You heaved a long sigh, saving your work and facing the phone fully. He gave you a smile when he noticed your attention was focused on him.

God, how he loved to be the center of attention.

“Then I’ll take you home,” he explained, making sure you were listening carefully “and I’ll fuck that attitude out of you, all night long.” Your cheeks dusted pink at his vulgarity. Although you had effectively said the same thing, it always seemed dirtier coming from his lips. “Sound like a deal?”

“6:45, Jacob. Don’t be late.” You warned.

“For you? Never.” He smirked, ending the call with no formal goodbye. You sat for a moment, shaking your head at the strength in which he affected you. Without any further debate, you closed your laptop and stood from your chair, making your way to the bathroom to hop in the shower.

It had been about three weeks since the fateful night at the bar left you tangled in Jake Kiszka’s web. Three weeks of constant certainty that the two of you would remain solely connected through intimacy but neglect any romantic feelings. It was working out well, but your excessive indulgence had been pushing boundaries of greed since the first night you met. Now, it was uncommon for you to spend a night without being immersed in him, whether than be at your own home or at his. Your bed smelled like him and his memory was embedded in the fabric of your pillowcases. And in your shower, and your kitchen counter, and even your living room furniture. There was no part of your home that was free from the mark of his memory, and even if you tried to convince yourself to hate it, you knew it was there to stay.

There was not a surface in your household that was free of his touch, and not a fiber of your being that was free of his deadly charm. He had a hold on you stronger than anything you had felt before, and it was welcomed, even if you refused to admit it to him. Jake’s company was fantastic, and the fact that you could indulge in it without worry of further commitment or heartbreak was comforting. He was not in love, and neither were you, and you were both content with the knowledge that you did not have the intent to be with each other in such a way.

He had become your friend despite your reluctance to accept it. On top of that, he’d become the very thing that haunted every thought and dream that crossed your mind. You were a woman gone mad, desperate for a hint of attention and begging for the grace of his hands. The concupiscent nature between you was near embarrassing to choke down, and the strength in which you felt for him was incomprehensible. You needed Jake in the same way a starving man needs food, and the pleasure that he gave you had long surpassed a need for survival; sometimes, it felt as though it was the very thing that your being was put on earth to receive. Pleasing him went hand in hand for all he gave to you, and you were fine knowing that the two coincided with perfect unity.

He was placed in your life for many reasons, and sometimes you believed none of them were good, but you knew that you would go to the ends of the earth to reward him for the service he provided you. It was a relationship built from sin, yet even the barren depths of hell could not scare you away from him, because an eternity filled with suffering would be worth the moment of euphoria you felt at his hands. He was the devil, and you were the worshipper that in turn, gave him all of his power. He would be nothing if you were not feeding in to him, but the chains that bound you to him were so tight that they had fused to your skin. It was a vicious cycle that both of you were aware of, yet cared little about freeing yourself from it.

Love, although not something that you wanted to admit to, seemed to be creeping up on you with the utmost of silence, trying it’s best to kill you before you ever noticed it’s company. You were not in love with him, and even when he was wrapped around you in the most intimate display, you still did not feel the emotion. But, just because you did not feel it, did not mean it did not exist. Love was everywhere, surrounding you at all times and existing within you even while asleep. It was not love in the traditional sense, and nowhere near close to the kind that made you want to get married and settle down with children. It was the love of his company, and the love of his sharp tongue and sweet words. It was present in the shared jokes and coffee in the morning after spending the night together (Coffee and lunch had become routine, because you did well to adhere to your no breakfast rule).

It was different than any love you had experienced before, because it was not the type that made you willing to sacrifice yourself on his behalf nor go insane trying to love someone who did not love you. It was enjoyment in his company, and the laughter that hung in the air. You loved him as a friend, and you were in lust with him as a person. You were not dependent on his help to survive, but you did not want to picture a life without him in it. He was a great companion, and a fantastic friend, but you could not seem to view him as anything more. You did not want to blame it on his character, because it was simply not true. Jake was fantastic, but it was your own personal issues and morals that stood in the way of anything further than casual sex. So far, despite your limited time apart, he hadn’t seemed to overstep any boundaries or push your limits. As far as you could tell, he was content with the same things you were, and he had no interest in anything more.

For now, it was a comfort to know the both of you wanted the same outcome, but perhaps it was the most dangerous thing of all. The only thing that was worse than one person falling unwillingly, was both of you falling unknowingly.

You climbed out of the shower, drying off as you checked the time on your phone. Once your body was free of any water droplets, you wrapped your hair in a towel and moved on to your closet. Your eyes scanned your wardrobe, landing on a cute little black dress. You slipped it on, settling your arms in the long sleeves and straightening the front. It had a plunging neckline, the bottom of it reaching just under your chest on your sternum. You searched your room for tape to hold the soft fabric in place. When you were certain it would not move, you fixed the bottom, settling it mid-thigh. You took a quick look in the mirror, content with your choice and ready to move on to makeup.

In the bathroom, you had a constant eye on your phone to ensure Jake wasn’t texting or calling. He hated to be kept waiting, and you liked him enough to not want to push that button. You ran a comb through your hair as you blowdried it, adding a few loose curls to the ends for some volume. With little time to spare, you dusted some eyeshadow over your eyelids and put some mascara on your lashes after dabbing on a touch of foundation. You picked through your lipglosses and rushed through the application after hearing a knock sound on your door. With a small smile on your face, you rushed to greet your company for the night.

When you opened the door, you nearly fell to your knees at the sight. Jake was dressed in all black, with similar clothes to the night you met him, but somehow he seemed even more beautiful than he did then. There was a chain dangling from his neck and a few rings on his finger, and of course, the familiar cocky smirk adorned on his lips. You began to realize that Jake would not be himself without it. “6:45 on the dot.” You noted, your brain finally catching up with the moment.

“Told you I’d never be late for you, angel.” He recalled, taking a long look over you. “Seems like we match.” He tried to hide the lustful staring, but his eyes were permanently fixated on the exposed skin on your chest.

“I guess so.” You said, your eyes just as focused on the unbuttoned portion of his shirt. The need you both displayed for each other was shameless, and it was the loudest thing in any room you entered.

“You look fantastic.” He said, taking a step forward and letting the door close behind him. When he did, you caught a strong scent of cologne that was unfamiliar to you. It was new, it seemed expensive, and it was so heavenly that it was difficult not to tear his clothes off right then and there.

“Is this what you had in mind for a pretty little dress?” You teased, giving him a smile.

“Even better than what I had in mind.” He corrected, snaking his hand to your hip and pulling you into him. He brought his free hand to your chest, gently running the knuckle of his index finger down between your breasts and stopping at the same spot that the fabric resumed. A shiver went down your spine at the light tickle of his touch, and your skin ignited with a fire that could not be contained. “All of this just for me, sweetheart?” His tone was low and gravely, overtaken by desire for you.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, honey.” You brushed off his claim, yet both of you knew the defence was weak. You dressed to impress him, and his eyes and hands were the only thing you wanted on you. “Maybe I just wanted to make a good first impression.” He raised an eyebrow at your statement, challenging you without saying a single word. You nearly faltered under the weight of his stare, but you remained strong despite your tendencies to submit to him.

“Your idea of a good first impression is dressing like a whore?” He questioned, but the harsh words did not match his stature nor his tone. It was incredibly playful, almost as if he was trying to initiate foreplay already. Your cheeks burned red at the statement, but you continued holding his unwavering stare.

“Worked on you, did it not?” You asked, a small smirk playing on the corner of your mouth.

“So you’re trying to get them into bed, too?” He did not lighten up on his intense gaze, but somehow you were just content that you seemed to catch his undivided attention.

“If I remember correctly, you were doing all of the trying that night. I wasn’t interested in taking you home.” You reminded him of his relentless efforts and your continuous rejection as if it hadn’t been playing on repeat in his head since it happened. His hand slipped to your ass, bringing you closer to him with a force that made your head spin.

“Are you trying to get yourself in trouble again?” He asked while his fingers pressed into the skin that was already bruised from the night before. The pain held little importance compared to the mess that was beginning to form between your legs. “Why is it so hard for you to admit that you want to look good for me?”

“Because I’d hate to fuel your ego any further.” You snipped, but your hand was in search of him, landing on his side as you attempted to pull him closer. “And I’m not a liar.” You were, but neither of you needed to point out the obvious.

“That’s okay, angel. You don’t have to say it. Your body does all the talking for you.” He loosened his grip, giving you a small pat on the ass. You couldn’t help the frown that took over your face as he began to pull away. He caught sight of your expression, pausing for a moment as a glimmer of joy filled his eyes. “So that’s what it is,” he muttered, his gaze flickering to your lips. “You were hoping to piss me off enough so I would fuck you before we left.”

“No,” you shook your head, rejecting the idea even if he hit the nail straight on the head. He gave a low chuckle, leaning down and pressing his lips to your own. Your eyes fluttered closed, finding your prior arguments ceasing to exist within seconds of his touch. When he pulled away, the smile had returned to your face as if it never left at all.

“I missed you, sweetheart.” As domestic as the statement was, you couldn’t argue with it, for you had missed him just as much.

“I know.” You hummed. You did not have to say it back because he knew you did, too.

“Get your stuff so we can get going.” He ordered.

“Pushy,” you muttered, but turned to do as he asked.

“The faster we get there, the faster we can come back here.” He explained, watching you intently as you walked away from him. He was already itching to get that dress off of you, and it was no secret. You could see it in his eyes.

“Could just stay here.” You offered, calling out from your bedroom. You weren’t opposed to meeting his brothers; far from it, really. You quite enjoyed Josh’s company when he showed up unannounced at Jake’s apartment, and you could only assume you’d get along just as well with the others. What you did like more than drinking was the sex Jake had to offer, and you knew sitting tipsy in a bar booth was nowhere near as enticing as having him alone in your bed.

“You don’t sound very excited.” He noted, holding his hand out for you to grab as you walked out of your room. With little hesitation, you slipped your own into his and flicked the lights off.

“I am excited to meet them, but more excited about what comes after.” You corrected, pulling your keys out to lock the door behind you.

“Trust me, angel, if you’re good for me tonight, I’ll be good to you.” You nodded, knowing that he wouldn’t lie to you about that. As for being good, you weren’t sure if you could uphold the standard, especially to his expectations. Holding your tongue had never been a strong suit for you, but you could definitely give it a shot.

“So what do they think we are?” You asked, letting him guide you to the passenger side of the car. He opened the door for you, allowing you inside. Once you were settled, he closed it and got in the drivers seat. “Do I have to pretend that we’re in love, or do they know what we’re doing?”

“Sam and Danny think that we’re friends.” He chuckled, starting the car before looking over to you. “Josh only knows better because he saw you in my apartment.”

“Ah, so I’m a dirty little secret?” You raised an eyebrow. He smirked, giving a shake of his head as he slipped his hand to your thigh. You rested yours on top of his, hoping that he would keep it there for the whole drive.

“No, sweetheart.” He said, backing out of your driveway and into the road. “I just wanted to avoid them having any impression of you in their heads before they met you.”

“What does that mean?” You questioned, looking out the window as he drove.

“That means,” he paused, turning up the radio only slightly “you’re more than just someone I have sex with. I didn’t want them to know you as that, because you have way more to offer.” You couldn’t deny the tugging of your heartstrings as he spoke, finding his response genuine and sweet. “I don’t want them to like you because they feel like they have to. I want them to like you because they got the chance to know you like I do.”

“No pre-existing conditions,” you whispered “thank you, Jake.” Instead of a verbal response, he gave your leg a light squeeze. “You must bring home some interesting women if you’re scared they’re going to feel required to like me.”

“Why do you think I don’t date?” He quipped. His tone was light, but it didn’t seem like he was joking. For a moment, you felt like you could see straight through him. For another, you felt like you could relate to him. You did not know how to respond, so you didn’t. You were not in the game for comfort or therapeutic measures, and neither was he.

As you looked out the window, a strange feeling washed over you. You did not know Jake nearly well enough to be so entranced by him. You had pegged him as a whore without really knowing who he was, and you had built your walls up so high that you could not see over them for long enough to understand Jake for what he truly was. He did not seem to want a relationship with you, but he did want to be involved with you, and so much so that he hadn’t let you forget it since the minute he walked into your life. It did not appear that he was entertaining anyone else, and in truth, you did not fear he was simply because you knew he did not have the time. Between working, texting or calling you, or being with you, he seemed pretty preoccupied. More than that, he seemed content. In some strange way, you were, too, and one of the biggest problems you had with dating had already been conquered without you even realizing it.

Jake was integrated in to your daily routine so well that it almost seemed empty without him, and it was not in the negative way you perceived it to be in the beginning. He was a positive addition to your routine rather than a distraction, and he did not interfere with the things you believed he might. When you found clothes he forgot, you washed them and folded them alongside your own to return to him at a later date. He watched whatever you put on the television without a complaint, and offered you new music rather than forcing it upon you. He took up space in your bed, but did not impede on your own. He did not keep you up at night by snoring or stealing blankets, and often times, you slept better with his lazy arm slung over you. You did not want to wed him, but he had certainly proven that he was not a waste of your time.

Denial is a stage of grief, after all, and grieving your former self was all you had been doing as of late.

“What’s your favourite color, Jake?” You asked, looking back over at him. He glanced at you from the drivers seat, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he processed your question.

“What?” He laughed, still unsure of your words.

“Your favourite color.” You repeated as if it was a completely normal inquiry.

“Uh… red, if I had to pick.” Fitting for the devil, you thought.

“Okay.” You nodded, looking back out the windshield.

“Why do you ask, sweetheart?”

“I guess I just feel like I don’t know enough about you sometimes.” You explained, feeling a small spark of embarrassment ignite in your chest. “We spend so much time together and I don’t even know your favourite color or which brother is your favourite, or anything like that.” He let out another hearty laugh at your words, finding your desire to know more about him intriguing.

“So you want to know me, now?” He asked, surprised that you were asking questions first.

“We’re friends, are we not?” You snipped, your tone sharp and defensive.

“I’d like to think so, but you seem to disagree.” He chuckled. “Ask me whatever you want angel, and I’ll answer.”

“Whatever I want?” You raised an eyebrow, wondering if he realized the extent of his promise. He did not try to take back the claim. Instead, he nodded his head to show you he was being truthful. “Okay, I guess I will, too.” Although begrudgingly, you thought it was only fair to be open and honest with him if he was willing to do so with you.

“What’s your favourite colour?” He asked, curious himself.

“You’re pushing it.” You warned, a smile on your lips to show you were joking. “Green. Dark forest green, like the way the trees look when the sun has just set.”

“Good to know.” He said, making sure to store the information in his mind.

“Do you do this often? Or am I just one of a kind?” You finally spewed out the most pressing question in your head.

“No, you’re one of a kind.” There was no room for doubt in his answer, because his tone was laced with utmost certainty. “I’ve never done this before, actually.”

“So why am I so special?” He looked back over at you, studying your face as he formulated a proper response.

“You’re different than anyone I’ve ever met.” He started slow, trying his best to word it properly. “I don’t like dating, and I don’t like commitment all that much, but I liked you from the minute I saw you. I wanted you, but for some reason, I wanted to know you even more than I wanted sex. I didn’t want to leave in the morning and never see you again.” He said, focusing on the road as he spoke. “I figured I’d shoot my shot and if you turned me down, no harm no foul. Then I started talking to you, and I knew there was no way I was walking away without you. Your snarky little comments and your sarcasm was impossible to ignore, and your lack of interest was just making me more interested. You had a comeback for everything I said, and I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone who I clicked with like that.” He shrugged. “The sex was mind blowing, and you get along with Josh really well. Was kind of a no brainer for me.”

“Oh,” you nodded, feeling your cheeks warm with another blush. You hated that you always seemed to be blushing when he was around. “I, uh, I don’t like that stuff either, and I really don’t like one night stands, but I liked you too. I’m pretty stubborn, and I think I just assumed you were lying to get what you wanted.”

“S’okay.” He gave your thigh another squeeze. “I get it. People suck.”

“Yeah, they do.” You agreed. “I told myself a long time ago I would never date anyone again, and I still feel that way, but I do like you and I like what we’re doing.”

“You don’t have to tell me about it if you don’t want to, but I’ll always listen.” He promised, pulling into the parking lot of the bar.

“It’s not a very long story, but I wouldn’t want to bore you with it.” You shrugged.

“I’ve got all the time in the world.” He assured you, putting the car in park and turning his attention towards you. When you caught his eye, it was astounding how much care was held in his gaze.

“I’ve gotten my fair share of strange looks and whispers around town for the last few years.” You explained. “Usually when you’re divorced before 25, people talk. At 22, it was even worse.” He did not change his expression, nor did he make a move to speak. He was listening, and he knew he would listen to you until long after the sun came up with no judgement and no interruption. In the three weeks he’d known you so intimately, never had you mentioned a word about your past so bluntly. He was desperate to know you, and he felt lucky that he was even getting the chance.

“I was stupid, and I married my high school sweetheart. At eighteen, he bought a cheap ring at the nearest pawn shop, and I wore it proudly, just like it was the most expensive diamond in the world. By nineteen, we were moved in to a shitty house in the poor part of town and I had his last name. Life wasn’t glamorous, and it certainly wasn’t easy, but I was happy. I worked part time as a server ay diner off the highway and made the rest of my money taking shitty pictures off my dad’s old camera from the 90’s.” You said, looking down at his hand burning into the skin of your thigh. It looked prettier on you than your ex’s ever did, and even in the short time you knew him, you knew that for certain. “When you’re that young, you don’t listen to anyone. No matter how many times I was told I was making a mistake, I didn’t listen. Kids never do.”

“What happened, angel?” He asked, noticing the disdain growing in your eyes.

“People change.” You finally looked up to meet his eyes. “Sometimes for the better, but most of the time, it’s for the worst.” You weren’t sure why you felt so comfortable telling him everything, but you didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him, and you knew that no matter what, the story would be safe with him. “By twenty, he’d already slept with half of the women in the neighborhood; it didn’t seem to matter if they were married too. If anything, I think he liked the thrill more than he liked getting off. Before I turned 21, he stopped saying I love you and turned to fists and raised voices. I was lucky that my sister opened up her spare room to me when I finally found a way out, and I was even luckier that he had a good job and lots in his savings account when I took him to court. I got a restraining order and changed my name, and bought a house on the other side of town with the money I got in the settlement.

“I had no idea, y/n.” He said, a spark of sadness showing in his eyes.

“Of course you didn’t. I’m not that person anymore, and I never will be. I don’t talk about it because it’s not who I am, and it’s not something that holds any value anymore. I changed, and I got over it; it was five years ago, but I don’t date anymore because I don’t think I could ever give anyone any power over me again.” You were lying through your teeth, because you knew he held a power over you, even if it was not romantic. Your strength astounded him, and as much as he wanted to voice his willingness to protect you for the rest of his life, he knew you did not need it. You seemed like you had more strength at 27 than he could ever comprehend in his lifetime. “It doesn’t change the person sitting next to you; I’m the same as I was the minute before I opened my mouth, and I don’t want you to think differently.” You took in a long breath. “Friends know each other, Jacob, so don’t ever doubt our friendship again. You know more about me than most of the world.”

“Understood.” He smiled. “Friends it is then, angel.” He was estatic to finally hear the words come out of your mouth without hesitation.

“What about you, then? Dating isn’t your game either, so I hope your story isn’t as tragic.” You joked, trying your best to lighten the mood. The tension was heavy in the air, and unlike usual, it was not sexual in any way. The weight of your confession was crushing the both of you, and you desperately wanted to change the subject.

“No, not quite.” He chuckled, understanding that you wanted to joke your way through the hurt. “Cheating takes a toll after a while, and I guess lots of people find it a fascinating hobby.” He explained. “After it happens so often, you get sick of pouring your heart into someone who doesn’t really give a shit in the end. I dated a girl for a very long time. We met not long after I graduated and we stayed together until about a year before I moved here. Loyalty wasn’t her thing, and I think I was too blind to see her for what she was. The guys hated her, but love makes you stupid.”

“That it does, Jacob. That’s why I don’t do it.” You said. “I value my sanity far more than I care about being alone.”

“Right,” he nodded “I spent a few months heartbroken, and then I just stopped caring. I had a few one night stands, but I didn’t really like it. Sex is fun, but when you told me there was no point in getting to know someone only to try and forget them in the morning, I couldn’t have agreed more. When I met you, and you felt the same ways I did, and you understood that sex is different than a relationship, it was like a breath of fresh air.”

“It was.” You agreed. “I like being friends with you, Jake, and I really like having sex with you, but that’s why I was so stern about not falling in love. I’m not ready for it, and I probably never will be.”

“I get it, and I feel the same way.” He sighed, happy to know the truth about the situation.

The only unfortunate part of the truth was that it did nothing but open the next door that was in the way of falling for each other.

“I’d like to know you, Jake.” You admitted. “Really know you, like more than what we’re doing now.”

“I’d like that, too.” He smiled.

“Still no breakfast, of course.” You informed.

“Of course not. Wouldn’t dream of it.” He laughed, genuine happiness radiating from his features. You felt a flutter of warmth in your stomach, finding yourself almost too excited to see him happy. “Would you like to go inside?”

“Yeah, sure.” You nodded, unbuckling your seatbelt. He got out of the car to open the door for you, holding your hand as you steadied yourself on your feet. When he was certain you had your balance, he slipped a loose hand to your lower back. “I’m excited to meet them.” You assured him, knowing that he had fear of you going because it felt obligatory.

“Good, I know they’re excited, too.” A small smile crossed your lips as he opened the bar door for you, allowing you inside first. When he stepped in beside you, his eyes drifted across the filled booths. Ray caught sight of you from the bar, sending you a wave as he studied the sight before him. Not once in the last five years had he seen you walk in the bar with someone by your side, but he was happy to see the smile on your face. Usually it was hard to get one out of you until you were a few drinks deep.

Jakes eyes landed on a familiar face and he began guiding you towards your company for the night. You drew in a deep breath, settling your nerves as you tried your best to convince yourself the night would be good. “Hey!” An excited voice called out. The familiarity was nice, and you looked to meet Josh’s eyes as Jake pulled up a chair at the end of the booth. “I was beginning to think you’d never show up.”

“Sorry, that was my fault.” You chuckled. “I was caught up with work.”

“No need for apologies, you’re here now.” He assured you. You looked to the other side of the booth, catching the curious eyes of two more boys. You gave a warm smile, extending your hand out to shake theirs.

“Hi, I’m y/n.” You said, shaking the first boys hand.

“I’m Danny.” He smiled, his eyes lingering over your face. He seemed sweet, and you didn’t even need to talk to him to sense his kindness. It was radiating from him. You did the same with the next boy, already knowing who he was without him saying his name. If you ran into him on the street, you were certain you’d recognize him. He looked so similar to Jake that it was nearly alarming.

“And you’re Sam?”

“So he’s told you about me?” You had to laugh at the similarity between his statement and the one Josh gave you when you first met.

“Only good things.” You promised.

“I can say the same.” He grinned. “I hear you play piano?” He raised an eyebrow, curious about the fact.

“You heard correctly.” You nodded. “My mom thought it would be a good way to keep me busy, and she was right.”

“I’d love to hear you play sometime.” He said, genuinely curious.

“I’m sure we can arrange something. I hear you’re quite talented, too.”

“You should come to our next show.” Josh offered, cutting in with his grandiose idea.

“I’m sure she has better things to do.” Jake chuckled, rolling his eyes at his brother.

“No, I’d love to, actually.” You shut his notion down. “I haven’t even heard him play yet, so maybe we could kill two birds with one stone.” Sam nearly choked on his drink at your words, looking over at his brother with wide eyes.

“He hasn’t played for you yet?” He asked, looking back to you. “I have a hard time believing that.”

“Guess we just never got around to it.” Jake said, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck while he hoped they would drop the subject.

“Are you nervous?” Sam asked, even more baffled than he was before.

“No,” he snapped, shutting him down. “Quit it.” You chuckled at the altercation, finding their banter funny. Seeing them so close and comfortable with each other made you miss your own sister. She had moved a few towns over the year prior, and you hadn’t seen her much since. Sam seemed to back down at his sharp tone, settling back in his seat while he sipped on his drink. “Do you want a drink?” Jake asked you, prompting you to sit down beside Josh in the booth.

“Yes, please.” You smiled, following his order. Jake nodded, already knowing what you wanted. He hadn’t managed to forget a single thing about you since you first met. Sometimes, it felt like the knowledge plagued him and he would die from the sickness of needing more.

“So, y/n.” Sam said, watching as Jake disappeared from sight. “What do you do for work?”

“People pay me to take their picture.” You explained. “Weddings, maternity, cheesy family portraits, all that fun stuff.”

“Ever do photography for a band?” He asked.

“No, but your brother has been trying to convince me to do your promo shoot for the new album.” You admitted. “It seems like it would be fun, but I don’t know if I’m what you’re looking for.”

“Don’t say that.” He scoffed. “I’m sure if Jake is okay with it, you’re more than fantastic. He’s pretty picky when it comes to band stuff.”

“Oh yeah?” You asked, intrigued by his words.

“Yeah,” all three agreed, the response heavy. “The whole music thing was his dream, so he’s pretty specific. He must like you a lot.”

“Oh.” You cheeks tinged red again, almost flattered that he thought highly enough of you to want to work with you. “Who knows, maybe he can talk me into it.” You shrugged. “So you’re the bassist and he’s the drummer?” You asked, pointing to Sam and Danny for their respective roles. They nodded, confirming your words. “That’s cool that you all get along so well.”

“It’s tough by times.” Josh admitted, not willing to pretend it was always sunshine and rainbows. “Do you have any siblings?”

“Yeah, one. She’s only a year older than I am.”

“So you get it.” Sam chuckled.

“I do. She’s my best friend, but we do hate each other. Just part of the sibling relationship, I think.”

“Exactly.” He nodded. With that, a drink was sat in front of you and Jake took a seat in the chair at the end of the table. He gave you a small smile as you thanked him, but moved on quickly. “Water for you? That’s new.”

“Driving tonight.” Was all Jake replied, uncaring about having to stay sober. Getting you home safe was his only priority.

The group descended into small talk, starting first by trying to get to know you, then slowly moving on to joking and laughter. It was nice feeling like you fit in straight away, and during the entire night, you never felt out of place. Jakes brothers were arguably easier to get along with than him, and you were happy you hadn’t shied away from the invitation. For once, company seemed to make your night all the more memorable rather than put a damper on it. You found the boys fun to be around, and you could not remember the last time you laughed as much. Somewhere between drink three and four, Jakes hand slipped to your knee underneath the table. You barely paid any mind to it, and if anything, it was welcomed. You could never seem to convince yourself to disregard his touch, and often times found yourself searching for it.

The group joined together and purchased some shots for the table, which only began a gruelling game of quarters. The tension was high and the competition was fierce. Josh and Danny started, then you and Sam went head to head. Even though Jake wasn’t drinking, he stepped in for a few rounds, which eventually landed Josh in the chair at the end of the table and Jake taking post in the booth next to you. The innocent hand on your knee steadily grew more comfortable, which then provoked him to move his fingers further up your thigh. His touch was searing, and quickly turned into the only thing you could focus on. You were stuck on the inside of the booth, knowing that you would not be able to step away to calm yourself down unless he allowed it.

In essence, you were trapped, but it was not striking a fear within you; instead, there was an excitement to see how far he would take things before he backed away.

When Sam and Danny found themselves in an argument with Josh over something so small and trivial that you had missed it entirely, you felt Jake’s hand sneak even further up your leg. He settled his hand under the hem of your dress as his fingers were nearly brushing against the fabric of your underwear. Your breath caught in your throat, but you could not deny your desire for him to keep going despite the very real possibility of being caught. It was always the same with him; no risk was too high, because the reward would outweigh the risk any day.

“Jake,” you whispered, glancing over at him through the corner of your eye.

“What’s wrong, beautiful?” He asked, his expression nearly fooling you into believeing he was doing nothing at all.

“Behave.” You warned, but you were hoping he wouldn’t listen. He never did, and you weren’t truly expecting him to, anyway.

“What ever do you mean?” He smirked, turning his head down towards you ever so slightly. With a little help from your own neediness shining in your eyes, he managed to push your legs apart just enough to run his finger over your clothed cunt. You let your eyes flutter closed, trying your best to keep a straight face while he continued on his torment. He took in a long breath, nearly feral at the feeling of the arousal pooling between your legs. Your departure was long overdue, and he had been waiting to get you out of the dress as soon as he showed up at your door.

“You guys want to play a round of pool?” Sam asked, his attention suddenly on the two of you. You opened your eyes, trying extra hard to make sure your expression wasn’t giving away the incriminating act Jake was doing under the table and out of sight.

“What do you think?” Jake asked you, clearly trying his best to push you to the limit. As he asked, his touch grew stronger and more pronounced, focused intently on the thin lace that was covering your clit.

“Sure, why not?” You breathed, hoping that a quick answer would divert the attention away from your flustered expression. “I suck though, I’ll warn you now.” You gave a nervous laugh through clenched teeth, trying your best to ignore Jake’s antics.

“You okay? You seem a little… distant.” Jake pressed, hoping you might crack under the pressure.

“Yeah, think I just drank too much too fast.” You brushed him off, now determined to prove him wrong. “Might take a little break for a while.”

“Wouldn’t want you getting sick.” He sympathized, although clearly fake and only offering the statement to keep you in the position for as long as possible.

“Of course not, I’ll be alright.” You said, holding his gaze. There was a fire in his eyes, dangerous and mischievous, and yours were pleading with him to surrender. You were caught in a stalemate, neither of you willing to back down, yet neither of you able to win.

“Shall we play?” Josh asked, also seemingly invested in yours and Jake’s staring contest.

“Sure, just give us a minute. We’ll meet you over there.” He assured them, not looking away from you as he spoke.

“Okay.” They agreed, sliding out of the booth and making their way towards the pool table. Once they were out of earshot, you opened your mouth to speak.

“You trying to get us in trouble, Jacob?” You scolded, noticing that he still failed to withdraw his hand.

“No idea what your talking about.” The smirk on his lips was infuriating, but what even worse was how badly you wanted to lean over and kiss him. The devil made his presence known in the inviting warmth of his brown eyes, falsely claiming peace and serenity despite the invitation being nothing but filthy underneath the surface. “What’s wrong, angel?”

“Don’t play dumb with me,” you scolded, but could only care about his finger that had dipped underneath the fabric he had been teasing you through.

“Jake,” you hissed, but it was not with discontent.

“If you give me a kiss, I promise I’ll behave for the rest of the night.” He informed you, watching your lust clouded eyes with a type of longing you could not begin to comprehend.

“A kiss? That’s it?” You questioned, squirming underneath his stare.

“Yeah, haven’t gotten once since we got here.”

“Because your brothers think we’re friends!” You argued.

“Think that jig was up a long time ago.” He laughed, finding his power over you near comedic.

“Christ, kiss me then.” You rushed out, nervously watching to make sure nobody had picked up on your obscene display. He leaned down, pressing his lips to yours in a sweet exchange. It was nowhere near the same intensity of what he was doing beneath the table. As he pulled away, so did his hand. His promise was kept, and you finally felt like you could take a full breath of air. “You are needy today.”

“Get over it.” He gave your thigh a squeeze, humour laced in his tone. “Let’s go kick their ass in a game of pool.” You nearly had whiplash at the sudden change in direction, but you couldn’t seem to find it within yourself to be upset with him. He extended his hand out for you to grab, helping you to your feet as you straightened out your dress.

“I told you I suck at pool.” You warned, praying that he didn’t get his hopes up.

“Even if we lose, I still consider it a win if I have you as my partner.” You thought your face was going to ignite in flames from the intensity of the blush on your cheeks. He led you towards the rest of the group, keeping a steady hand on your back so you didn’t stray too far from his side. When you rejoined the rest of the crowd, you realized they barely noticed the length of your absence, too busy hitting balls aimlessly across the green velvet of the pool table. As you watched Sam line up a shot, you realized that you might actually have a chance at winning. He seemed worse at the game than you, if it were possible.

“Good thing they don’t pay you to play, Sam, cause you’d go broke.” Jake said, watching a striped ball bounce of the side and crash into the 8 ball, sending it straight into the corner pocket. You giggled at the sight, watching Sam shoot his brother a glare as he straightened up.

“I’d like to see you do better, then.” He held his arm out, prompting Jake to grab the cue. He obliged, taking a long look over the table before settling on a solid ball. He lined up his shot, and with one swift moment of his arm, the white ball knocked the blue one into a side pocket. With a cocky smirk, he handed the cue back to Sam, rejoining you without saying a word. “Show-off.” He muttered, fishing the balls from the pockets and racking them in the middle of the table.

“Just admit you suck.” Jake laughed, pulling you into his side even further without even realizing it.

“You just want to impress her,” Sam snipped. “Let’s play, then we’ll see who sucks.” Jake opted not to respond, but he went to the rack on the wall and grabbed a cue for himself. He motioned for you to pick one for yourself, which you did with great hesitation. If Jake thought Sam was bad, he certainly wouldn’t be pleased with your performance.

“You’re up first, sweetheart.” He said, gently nudging you towards the table. You let out a long exhale, taking a step towards the table and bending over to line up the cue with the ball. From behind you, you heard Jake take in a sharp breath, unsure of what his issue was. As you broke the rack of balls and straightened up, you turned to look at him. The far away look in his eye was familiar, and your eyes widened at the realization of why he reacted so strongly to the innocent moment.

He had worked himself up teasing you at the booth, and was almost brought to his knees from the sight of you bent over the table.

‘So much for the boys thinking we’re friends.’ You thought, but you could not seem to be upset at him. The knowledge that you drove him crazy was nothing short of an ego boost, and you understood that you had a chance to get revenge for his merciless actions just moments earlier. You took a few steps towards him, turning to watch Sam take his shot. As you did, you made sure you were close enough for your ass to brush against him gently. His hand shot to your hip, holding you firmly in hopes that you wouldn’t move any further. You bit back the smile begging to break on to your lips, knowing that it would not take much to get him in the same state he had you in before starting the game.

“Easy, angel.” He whispered, his voice low but the warning clear. “Wouldn’t want to get us in trouble, would you?”

“No, sir.” You replied, just quiet enough for him to hear. But, trouble was the only thing you wanted to get into, and you weren’t sure how much longer you were willing to wait. He gave your hip a gentle squeeze, happy you were in clear understanding. With that, he stepped towards the table and started his turn. Josh was sat on the table opposite of your own, watching carefully in hopes of calling someone on an infraction of the rules. When he returned to you, he seemed a little more relaxed and forgiving of your actions.

“Another drink?” He asked, noticing that yours was nearing the end.

“Sure,” you nodded, looking up at him with a smile. “Thank you.” He nodded, leaning down and pressing a small kiss to your lips. You knew it was to satiate his own need for you, and the small contact would give him enough satisfaction to make it through the rest of the night. You watched as he walked towards the bar, a small smile stuck on your face as your head swam with intoxication.

“Not a girlfriend, eh?” Josh said, raising an eyebrow. Your head snapped towards him, almost embarrassed at his confrontation.

“Not a girlfriend.” You confirmed, firm on your stance.

“Can you be?” Sam asked, laughing at your response. “We like you.” Your heated with a blush (or the alcohol, you couldn’t really tell), happy that they seemed to take to your company well. You would be lying if you said you weren’t afraid of rejection.

“You can like me without me being a girlfriend, you know.” You said, watching as Danny finished up his turn.

“Obviously,” Sam rolled his eyes “but I think we can all agree we would like for you to be one. Don’t want him to fuck it up.”

“He can fuck it up just the same with a label.” Your counter arguments barely seemed to phase the three.

“I never thought he’d find someone nice. Everyone else was… well, horrible.” Sam chuckled, turning his attention to you fully. “He seems to like you a lot. He talks about you all the time.”

“He does?” You questioned, shocked at the statement. He nodded in response, looking to make sure Jake wasn’t already on his way back to the table. “Didn’t think we were that serious.” You said, making a note to discuss it with him when you were alone.

“I don’t think he does, either.” Josh laughed. “We just think it’s a shame you’re not. He has a pretty bad track record, and he kind of swore off the whole dating thing. He was insufferable for a little while, and then he met you. Seemed like it cleared his head a little bit. It’s nice.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling dread settle in your stomach. The cold feet you got from his simple statement was astounding, and you felt like running out the door and never looking back. You were not ready for feelings, and he promised to abide by the rule. If he was acting differently when you weren’t around, you weren’t sure you would be able to keep up at the same intensity without setting some boundaries.

“He’s on the same page as you, friend who is a girl.” Josh assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to worry. “I think we all just like you, and we hope that you stick around for a while, at least.”

“Okay,” you calmed slightly, happy that Josh recalled your statement from the first time you met. “Because friends is all I do, Joshua.”

“Right,” he agreed, but it did not seem like he believed you. “You’re the friend that so happens to be a girl, and he’s a boy that is indeed just a friend.”

“Perfect, you got it.” You laughed, nodding in agreement. Just as you settled back into silence, Jake made his return from the bar with your drink in hand. Somehow, when he was back in sight, the fear disappeared and was replaced with a sense of calm. His eyes caught yours, and that little smile on his lips told you that everything would be alright and you need not worry about a thing. When he was a few feet away from you, the gravitational pull that constantly surrounded him seemed to pull you in, muting the rest of the world and allocating your energy solely on him.

“My turn?” He asked, handing you the whiskey glass.

“No, it’s mine. Too busy talking.” You admitted, your eyes never leaving the entrancing features of his face.

“Or were you just waiting for me?” He teased, his eyes watching you with the same intensity. “Am I your good luck charm, angel?”

“You wish.” You brushed him off, but your smile told him his comment was welcomed.

“And?” He raised an eyebrow, appalled that you ever thought differently and wondering what your issue with it was. He loved being needed by you, and that had never been a secret. You smiled, giving him a slight smack on the arm before turning towards the table. You looked over your options, but not in hopes of winning the game. Instead, you pondered the best spot to lean over the table to drive him just as crazy as the last. You were like two sex-crazed demons, doing whatever you could to instigate the inevitable and making each other suffer in the process. Greed had become you long before the night of drinking ensued, but your infatuation with each other seemed to hit an all time high, for not even a public setting could keep your hands away from each other.

You walked to the other side of the table, making sure you picked a ball that was in front of him. You leaned down, low to the velvet and lined your stick with the cue ball. Your dress left little to the imagination as is, but with the help of gravity, anything left to wonder was quickly answered. Jake had a tight fist around his cue, knuckles white as his eyes fixated on the fabric ever so slightly pulling away from your skin. You drew your arm back, putting a little more force than needed into your strike, making sure that you looked up at him to see his reaction as the top of your dress struggled to remain secured to your chest. He caught your eye, his jaw clenched tightly as he tried to remember where you were and who you were with. When you returned to your upright position, you gave him a subtle wink so he knew your intent was personal.

Sam moved to take his turn, completely unaware of the silent battle between you and his brother. You brought your drink to your lips, so invested in your own game that you let a dribble of whiskey fall from the cup and trail down your chin. You swallowed down the burning liquid, knowing that his stare hadn’t once broken from the obscene display you were putting yourself in. The cold droplets fell from your chin down your neck, eventually reaching the valley between your breasts. Slowly, it melted into your skin and disappeared into the fabric resting on your sternum. When you withdrew the drink from your lips, you thought you might have pushed him too far. As he watched, it almost seemed like his brain was short circuiting as he tried to keep up with the vile thoughts he was having about you. The interaction was so small that nobody noticed it other than him, but he was so invested in you that not a single motion would ever be missed.

Your skin was ablaze with desire from the thought of his hands alone, and neither of you were interested in the game of pool anymore. Reluctantly, Jake took his turn, glancing at you intermittently between his shots. By the time Danny took his, there was only the eight ball left.

“Can you help me?” You asked Jake, giving him a small, innocent smile.

“Nuh-uh,” Sam shook his head, shutting it down. “That’s cheating.”

“How so?” Jake asked, uncaring for any rules and itching to get his hands on you.

“We can’t do that!”

“Actually, you can.” You corrected, walking over to meet Jake by the cue ball. “You just don’t want to. Or, you didn’t think to ask first.” Sam gave you a glare, clearly not liking the two against one outlook.

“Grand chancellor will allow it.” Josh interjected, finding Sam’s discontent hilarious. Even more than that, he was hoping Sam would actually ask for Danny’s help if you missed.

“Who made you the grand chancellor?” Sam argued, clearly fighting a losing battle.

“I did,” Josh said, giving him a smile. While Sam argued his point with Josh, you and Jake had taken it upon yourselves to lean down over the table to line up your shot.

“You’re being a brat, sweetheart.” Jake whispered in your ear as he settled himself behind you. “That’s not very nice. Thought I told you to be good for me tonight?” His hand came up to your arm, fixating them in the correct position as his other one held your hip.

“I think you’re just horny.” You shot him down, completely ignoring his accusation. “I’m just trying to play pool.”

“No, you’re just trying to be a cocktease.” He corrected, his tone quiet but his delivery harsh. “You want me to take you into the bathroom and fuck you?” You could not deny the dull ache between your legs that stemmed from his question. “Is that what you want, sweet girl?” He hummed, his mouth settled just over your ear. A shiver ran down your spine, completely unfocused on the shot he was supposedly helping you take. “Answer me.” He hissed, guiding your arm back to fake the shot, getting you used to the motion.

“No, sir.” You lied through your teeth, knowing that it was exactly what you wanted. You did not think you could survive the drive home without a taste of what he was offering. As you spoke, you made sure to push your hips back into him only slightly; it was not enough for anyone else to pick up on, but the erection growing against your ass told you he’d noticed it as clear as day.

“What do you do to me?” He muttered, flickering his eyes between the white and black ball. “This is how it’s going to work, okay?” He said, taking a deep breath. “After we win this game, you’re going to go to the bathroom. Stay there for a while, I’ll pretend you aren’t feeling well. Then, I’ll come and check on you, and I’ll fuck you so good that you won’t even remember where we are.” A light gasp left your lips as your cunt clenched around nothing. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, sir.” You muttered.

“Good, now hit the fucking ball and get this over with.” Instead of responding, you drew your arm back and hit the cue ball with just enough force to send the eight ball into the corner pocket. As you did, he made quick work at adjusting himself before anyone else noticed. Sam was so busy fighting with Josh that he didn’t even notice your stellar victory.

You straightened up with a smile on your face, knowing that Jake was the reason behind your success, yet still feeling proud that your hands made the winning play. Danny, who couldn’t have cared less about competition, applauded you and offered a high five. You responded with the same energy, jittering with excitement. When Sam turned to face the table, his expression was filled with disappointment at losing. You did not have the desire to console him over the loss, instead muttering a quick word about a good game before excusing yourself to the bathroom. You bustled to the other side of the bar in the direction of the bathroom, estatic when you found it vacant and awaiting your arrival.

You closed the door and clicked the lock, taking a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You straightened your hair and wiped away any specs of mascara that had fallen. Your foot was tapping against the ground as you waited for the knock, feeling like the seconds were more similar to eternities. Eventually, there was a soft knock on the door. With a breath of courage, you unlocked the door and opened it. You barely had a spare second to greet Jake, because he was already pushing his way inside and slamming the door behind him. He was in such a rush that one hand was already reaching for you as he fumbled with the lock.

You did not have the chance to say a word before his lips were on yours, desperate and angry at your relentless efforts to get under his skin. His hands shot to your hips, pulling you into him as the kiss dissolved into a messy and sloppy display of emotion. You let out a moan into his mouth, already descending into euphoria from the feeling of his body so close to yours. His fingers snaked under the skirt of your dress, forgoing any formalities as he bunched it up over your hips. Once your lower half was uncovered, he gave a hard tug on the elastic of your underwear by your hip, destroying yet another pair in wake of desire. In truth, you did not care; the only thing you cared about was him being inside of you, and you feared you would go insane if you had to wait a minute longer.

He gripped at your hips again, picking you up and roughly settling you on the counter while never breaking the kiss. You locked your legs around him, drawing him closer while hoping he never had to leave. If you could stay tangled amidst the web of his sinful touch forever, you would never have to search for anything more. “Did you think you were being smart pulling a stunt like that?” He asked, finally parting from you in a mess of heavy breathing. “Did you think being a tease would get you want you wanted?” He pressed even further, stopping his tornado of inquiry to bring his hand to his mouth and spit onto his fingers. “That you would get away with it without any punishment?” He lowered his hand to your cunt, the feral energy finally bubbling to the surface and ravishing his expression.

“I’m sorry, sir.” You pleaded, painfully aware of his touch that was so close yet just out of reach. “Didn’t mean to upset you.” You rushed out, looking down at his fingers just inches away from your heat.

“No?” He asked, his jaw hard set and his eyes dangerous. “Then what did you want, angel?” He was withholding any reward until he got a suitable answer from you. “Tell me exactly what you wanted, and I might be nice enough to give it to you.”

“I wanted you, sir.” You said, looking up to meet his eyes. “I wanted you to touch me. I need you to touch me. I can’t wait any longer.” You whined. You could not find it within yourself to be embarrassed about your own desperation, because your need for him far outweighed your own ego.

“Yeah? You want me to touch you, sweet girl?” He questioned, moving his hand just a little closer to you. “You just wanted me to take care of you? Make you cum all over my fingers right here in the bar?” Your face flushed at his vulgarity, but it only turned you on further. You could listen to him say nothing but filth all day and you would hang on to every word.

“God, yes.” You nodded, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his. “Please, Jake. I promise I’ll be good for you.”

“So fucking needy.” He growled, but his hand connected with your aching core as he spoke. You gasped at the sudden change, not expecting him to give in so easily. He spread your arousal to your clit, slipping his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves as he dropped his middle and index finger to your entrance. You bit back a moan as he began pumping his fingers into you, moving his thumb in time with his fingers. “I love it.” He confessed, nearly breaking down from your sounds of pleasure. “You know I’ll always give you what you want, baby. Just have to say the words.”

“Feels so good, Jake.” You whimpered, closing your eyes in bliss as he remained on a steady pace.

“As much as I’d like to stay here and fuck you all night, we have to make it quick. Don’t want people wondering where we are, do we?”

“No sir,” you agreed, using his body as support to keep you upright. You had an iron grip on his bicep, your skin electrified when his nose brushed against yours. You were only concerned with the pleasure steadily rising in your belly and the boy who was standing before you. When he was with you, with his skin on yours, nothing else in the world mattered, and nothing to come in the future would ever matter half as much. He was everything, and you were slowly coming to terms with the notion. Jake was the only man that held any importance in the entirety of the world, and the only one you ever wanted to touch you like such. He was an addiction, a disease that ravaged your whole body and left nothing behind. He was more evil than you could begin to comprehend, but you felt blessed to have him around.

The devil was the master at the game, convincing you that his company was a virtue when in reality, it was only the beginning of an eternity of suffering.

“This is what you needed, angel?” He crooned, watching his own work unfold in real time. His eyes were locked on his hand, his breathing laboured and his mind lost within the fantasy of fucking you again. “This is what you wanted so bad?”

“Yes, sir.” You groaned, feeling your heart thud against your chest. Your entire body was no longer under your command, now completely subject to whatever he felt inclined to do to you. You did not care, and you didn’t think you ever would. Even if he decided to bestow suffering, it would still be better than any kindness from another.

“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” You nodded against him, your legs trembling with the threat of your climax. “Don’t be shy, baby. Let the whole bar know how good I make you feel. I want to hear all of those pretty noises.” You were trembling under his touch, and his words struck the nail into the coffin. Without ever loosening your grip, you descended into an orgasm stronger than any you had ever felt before. You tried to cry out his name, to thank him for the grace he had given you, but you could not speak anything coherent. Even in the mess of jumbled thoughts where his name was most prominent, you could not seem to find the strength to speak it. As you rode out the high, he used his free hand to undo his belt buckle while continuing to pump his fingers into you. Before you had time to calm down from the excitement, he had freed himself from his jeans.

He withdrew his fingers, but you didn’t have time to grieve the loss of contact before he was pushing himself into you. Once he bottomed out inside of you, he brought you closer to the edge of the counter, allowing for easier access. “Fuck.” You cursed, letting your head fall back as you focused on the feeling of him. Sometimes, when you thought about it for too long, you convinced yourself that he was perfectly crafted and put on earth just to please you. The way your bodies moved in sync, moulding together in perfect harmony and pleasing each other just how you needed without even having to try. It was so hard to deny that it made your head spin, and the intensity in which you felt it to be true was nearly overwhelming.

“Tell me how good it feels, angel.” He purred, burying his head in your neck as he sucked at the sensitive skin.

“So fucking good, baby.” You sighed, tangling your hands in the hair at the base of his neck. You tightened your legs around him, hoping to bring him even closer than he already was. “You fill me up so good.”

“Such a dirty little whore.” He groaned, losing himself to the pleasure. You were both pent up, ready for a release before you ever made it to the bathroom. “Do you like being a whore for me, baby?”

“I love it,” you confessed, feeling the knot tightening in your belly, ready to let go at one slight movement. You were holding back, wanting to experience the height of the pleasure at the same time as him. You did not care that the entire bar likely knew what the two of you were doing, and you didn’t care about the awkward stares that would ensue when you emerged to join the crowd. You only cared about the boy you were wrapped around, and the fact that you got to spend the rest of the night with him after you went home. “I’m gonna cum, Jake.” You warned, a sharp gasp sounding as he pulled you towards him as he thrusted into you. The tip of his cock slammed into your cervix, sending a jolt of pain through you that was satiated by intense pleasure afterwards.

“Yeah? You want to cum with me?” He hummed, straightening up to catch sight of your face as you descended into your second orgasm. You nodded, your fingernails clawing at the fabric of his shirt to hold you in place as if you were scared of floating away. “Let go, angel. Cum for me.” You bit down on your lip, suffocating the moan that was trying to break free as he continued on his relentless pace.

“Oh, god.” You muttered, your eyes squeezed shut in bliss as your limbs began to tremble. He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss in hopes to silence your cries. He was only willing to share so much of you before the greed began to take over. He wanted you all to himself, and he wasn’t shy of that fact. Your moans fell directly into his mouth, feeding into his already wicked ego. The fire that burned in his heart was directly acreddited to you and your pleasure, and he survived solely of the way his name rolled so beautifully off of your tongue. As much as you were addicted to him, he knew that he was just as much, if not more of a victim to you.

The orgasm washed over you at the same time as his, both of you reaching your peak in a mess of curses. You sung his name like a hymn, and he uttered yours like a repentance. Neither of you could withstand the weight of the sin, but you were happy to die in each others arms. As you came down, he slowed his pace, careful not to make a mess of both of you. You let out a collective sigh of relief, the ghost of your orgasms still tingling over your skin as he pulled away. You couldn’t help but let out a whine of discontent as he pulled out, already missing the feeling of him inside you. He chuckled at your expression as he watched your face.

“Don’t be greedy, sweetheart.” He said, heaving a long sigh. “You’ve got a long night ahead of you, yet. Don’t think you’re going to get away with all of that teasing.” Your cheeks burned red at the thought, knowing that once he got you out the door, you wouldn’t be able to escape the repercussions of your actions. Even so, you knew that the punishment would be pleasurable, and you were already itching to take him home. He helped you off the counter, but stopped you as you made a move to clean yourself off. You looked up at him, confused at his intent. Before speaking, he grabbed the fabric of your dress and pulled it back down over your hips.

“What are you doing?” You breathed, looking up at him.

“That’s my way of making sure you say a quick goodbye.” He smirked.

“I don’t think so,” you shook your head, making a move to get past him again. He held you a little tighter, giving a disapproving tsk.

“Get out there,” he ordered, clearly showcasing his seriousness. “Finish your drink and say goodbye without making a mess, and then I’ll take you home and finish what you started.” You held his stare, both of you intense and unwilling to back down. “Clocks ticking, angel.” He reminded.

“Fine,” you huffed “but you better not pull any tricks once we’re out there.”

“Me? Never.” He grinned, a sparkle of adoration in his eye as he tried to gauge your comfortability with his request.

“Wipe the lipgloss off your face. Don’t think pink is your color.” You snipped, straightening your hair and your dress before stepping out of the bathroom without another word. He laughed at the fire in your eyes, doing as you asked and straightening himself up, too. When he left the bathroom, he watched you walk back towards his brothers with nothing short of love for you in his heart.

Although he’d never admit it, he was falling just as hard as you were. Greed had finally played its fatal part in the impending outcome of your situation, and sealed your fate of being infinitely intertwined with Jake Kiszka in a way you had been desperate to avoid.

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