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age-of-greta · 6 months

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Season Of The Witch

Author’s note: hi!! Saved the best for last, here is week 4/ the finale of our spooky series!! Hope you guys have enjoyed reading them as much as I did writing them. HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! Stay spooky I’ll see you guys back soon with tarot series #3 ;) vibes!!

Pairing: Jake x reader

Warnings: cursing, alcohol consumption, angst, lots of sexual content, minors DNI

Word count: 8k (oops)

Rain lightly drizzled as you stared out the window of your Uber. Orange and red luminescent glow lit up the pavement and the streets were lined with fall leaves. Despite approximately two shots of tequila coursing through your stomach you still felt odd about tonight.

“You okay babe?”

That sounded foreign coming from his mouth. You forced a small smile and nodded.

“Yes Matty. I’m good.”

He smiled back and placed his hand on your thigh. You had been seeing Matt for 2 weeks now, give or take a few days.

“Who’s party is this again?” He asked, turning his head to look at you.

“A friend’s. I’ve known him for what feels like forever.” You respond, smiling back on fleeting fond memories.

“Ah.” Matt starts. “Does this friend have a name?”

You nod and laugh. “He does. It’s Josh.”

“Josh.” Matt says slowly. “Well I’m glad he allowed me to come. I’m excited to be your date.”

“Me too.” You say with faux confidence.

A part of you felt bad. You already knew how this night was going to go, but Matt didn’t. There wasn’t anything wrong with Matt. He was conventionally very attractive. Dark curly hair, blue eyes, firm build, tall- god he hated when you went out with tall guys. Matt was a doctor. He was kind, smart, and funny. But there was one problem: he wasn’t him.

You and Jake had just broken up again around a month ago. But you hadn’t seen him in 3 weeks, since you last hooked up. You see, you and Jake were always on and off. Hot and cold. Burning passion with freezing intensity. At first things were fine. You met a few years ago and a drunken hookup in a bar flourished into a relationship. It was great for almost two years. Completely head over heels. Then one day it all went to shit. No real rhyme or reason, just a giant fight that you can’t even remember. The problem was neither one of you could let go of the other. Tethered to each other like an eternal curse. Ever since you have bounced in and out of each other’s lives like ping pong balls. Tonight was no exception. A Halloween party thrown by Josh. You had been invited before but Josh had texted you last week confirming you would still be there. Despite the shit with you and Jake the others felt like family to you.

“I believe we’re here.” The Uber driver says, putting the car in park.

“Thanks man. Happy Halloween.” Matt says, pulling out his wallet and handing the guy a twenty.

Matt gets out of the car and rushes to open your door. He reaches in and grabs your hand, helping you out of the car. Your outfit was relentless. It was definitely the sluttiest outfit you had ever put on your body. That was done intentionally. You wore a black latex bodycon dress, skin tight with your breasts pushed up and spilling out of the top. The material barely hit your mid thigh. You wore matching latex black platform calf boots with it. Your hair was full and blown out with loose curls and glitter hairspray. You had on a full face of sultry makeup, heavy on the eyelashes, bronzer, and lipgloss. You were calling yourself a witch, though the only indication of that would be the small black pentagram choker you had on with matching earrings. Your whole body was shimmering with glowy body oil and your nails were black almond shaped. You almost suffocated yourself with the amount of perfume you applied. It was the most extra you had ever been, but Halloween was your favorite holiday and seeing Jake’s face would be priceless. When Matt had come over to your apartment he had to adjust his pants after a mere hug in this get up. Matt was dressed as a zombie doctor. He had just tattered up a pair of his old scrubs, but he did look good. You saw their house illuminated with lit pumpkins and purple lights. Soft thuds lit up the house as you heard Voodoo Child by Jimi Hendrix get louder with every step. The rain had stopped and Matt had his arm linked with yours to balance you up the driveway. When you finally got up to the porch you adjusted your dress before opening the door, you were beyond knocking. The smell of fog machines, marijuana, various liquors, and sweat assaulted your senses as you entered the house. It was dark, only lit by soft automatic candle lights or fluorescent orange string lights. It was loud as Hendrix continued to billow out of the speakers.

“Oh shit!”

You heard from across the room, your eyes darted to see Sam beelining towards you. You grinned and embraced him in a hug.

“Fuck look at you.” He said, giving you a twirl. “So spooky.”

You let out a laugh. “Thanks Sammy. I dig your costume too. Eh- what exactly is it?”

He stares at you blankly. “I’m obviously a Niagara Falls tourist… that fell in.”

He points towards his outfit, cargo shorts, a white “I <3 Niagara Falls” t-shirt with blood smeared, a broken camera around his neck, a yellow tattered poncho also blood stained, and a fake bloody nose.

“I fucking love it.” You said with a laugh. “Very original.”

“There you are!”

You see Josh heading towards you, he’s dressed up as Elvis. “I was starting to think you had bailed on me.”

You smile and hug him. “Never.”

“Ooh you look hot.” Josh compliments, then looks to the side of you. “Oh sorry. Who’s this?”

You had almost forgotten Matt was standing there for a moment. “Josh, Sam, -this is Matt. He’s my date.” You say with a smile.

Sam smirks as Josh throws his hand out to introduce himself.

“Hey man, thanks for letting me come. I’m excited to get to meet all of her friends.” Matt announces politely, shaking hands with Josh.

Sam snickers. “Oh yeah. You’ll enjoy meeting everyone. Listen hot stuff, I’ve got to refill the fog machines and find Daniel. I’ll catch up with you later.” He quickly pecks the top of your head and scurries off to the crowd.

Josh smiles at Matt. “He’s a little shit, pay him no mind. You guys should hit the bar and grab some drinks. If the good shit is gone you know where to find the stash. Have fun you crazy kids.” Josh says, patting your back and starting to walk off yelling at someone to put a vase down.

“Shall we?” You ask Matt, taking his hand.

“Lead the way.” He replies with a smile.

You were only at the entrance of the house, so you tried to keep it cool and not scan around for Jake. You knew he’d be slinking around here somewhere with a drink in hand. You pushed past bodies and smiled when you saw Danny in the kitchen making drinks. As you headed that direction you saw him out of the corner of your eye. You only caught a brief glimpse of him in your peripheral, but you could feel his eyes searing into you. He was standing by the bathroom door, arms folded, and drink in hand just as you had predicted. You felt emboldened by that.

“Hey Matty?” You fluttered your lashes at him and got closer to his ear. “I’m going to run to the bathroom and fix my lipgloss. Would you mind getting us drinks? See the guy with the long curly hair? His name is Danny, he’s a friend. Tell him you’re with me and he’ll hook us up.”

He looked down at you focusing on your lips and placed his hand on the small of your back. “Yeah of course. I’ll meet you over there.”

You smiled up at him and nodded, before parting ways. You knew Jake was still watching you. You headed straight for the bathroom, not even bothering to glance at him. He beat you to the bathroom door.

“Sorry doll. Out of order. You can go use mine though.” That cocky grin spread on his face.

You scoffed and looked at him. “They made you bathroom police tonight? That’s quite a fitting job for you Jake.”

He smiled briefly at your banter. “Funny. What exactly are you wearing?”

“Did you get confused again? It’s Halloween, this is a costume.” You said, in a patronizing tone.

Jake’s eyes raked all over your body as he bit his lip. “A costume huh? I think dental floss would have been less revealing.”

“Oh please. As if you have room to talk. What are you? A half assed pirate again?”

He flicked his eyes up to you. “What is your costume? A whore?”

You rolled your eyes. “Yes Jake, I’m a whore. That’s my costume. You’ve cracked the code with that big brain yet again.”

He looks straight in your eyes, somewhat of a playful tone creeps out. “Yeah? Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Ha.” You state blankly. “Actually I’m a witch.”

You point to your pentagram necklace and Jake chuckles.

“I said, tell me something I don’t know, doll.”

He reaches up and lightly touches your necklace. That was enough to send goosebumps up your spine, but you would never give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

He took a step closer to you. “Wanna just skip all of this and go upstairs?”

You felt something bubble inside of you. But before you could retort someone came up right next to Jake, putting her hand on his arm and handing him a cup.

He smirked at you and glanced back at her. “Thanks Mere.” Then he wrapped his arm around her. Fucker.

She was short and petite with a blonde bob and fair skin, dressed up as Alice from Alice in Wonderland in a store bought costume.

This was one of the sick and twisted games you would play. Dangling other people in front of each other. You had only done it two other times and it drove Jake crazy. The first, all you had done was flirt with a guy in a bar and Jake snatched you up and brought you home to remind you who you belonged to. The second, you had gone on a date with someone right next to their studio. It didn’t take long for Jake to see your car and catch on to your antics. Jake had done this on countless occasions. Flirting, using his undeniable charm on poor women he had no intentions with. These things never went really far. Just enough to piss you off before he inevitably took you home. You tried to pretend that it didn’t bother you, but he knew how bad it did.

You tried not to glare at her.

“You’re welcome. The beer by the fire is so much better than what’s in the kitchen.” She beams at him. Gross.

Then she turns towards you, absolutely judging what you’re wearing. She made a reactionary face that she quickly tried to hide. But you saw it. Before any words could be exchanged Matt is by your side again.

“Here you go babe.”

He hands you a cup full of something that Danny had made and you smile up at him.

“Thank you Matty.” You put a little bit of a show on, but not too much. Yet.

You glance back over at Jake who is visibly scowling at you.

“Oh sorry. Matt this is Jake and- Mere is it?”

The blonde extends her hand. “Meredith.”

“Meredith.” You say with a smile. “How long have you known Jake?”

She seems a little taken aback by the question, you could care less.

“Well I guess only a few days.” She admits with a laugh. “We met through some mutual friends. How do you know each other?”

You smiled at her. “Oh same!” Then you look directly into Jake’s eyes. “Mutual friends.”

Meredith glances oddly between you and Jake. She clears her throat and looks at Matt. “And how long have you two been together?” She asks, trying to change the subject.

Matt smiles and wraps his hand around your waist. “Almost three weeks now. I’ve got to say, no complaints. Time flies when you’re having fun.”

Shit had it been three weeks? You glanced over at Jake who was shooting daggers at you. You snapped yourself out of your thoughts and smiled up at Jake and Meredith.

“Well it was lovely to meet you. We’ll get out of your hair. Don’t want to intrude. Have a good night Jake.”

He makes a face at you as you grab Matt’s hand and lead him away. Matt looks at you slightly confused once you find a spot.

“What?” You ask with a shrug.

He smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing. I take it you’re not a fan of them?”

You breathe out a laugh. “Now why would you say something like that?”

He grins at you. “So mischievous. What am I going to do with you?”

You step closer to him and put your hand on his chest. “Hopefully something inappropriate.”

His eyes were filled with lust as he took you in. This is the most forward you had ever been with him, but you knew Jake’s eyes were still on you. You leaned in and placed a small kiss on his cheek. His hands wrapped around your waist, but you pulled away quickly, shooting him a smile. His cheeks had dusted a light shade of pink as he bashfully grinned back at you. You saw Jake already heading towards you, but you took Matt’s hand and led him outside.

“Let’s see the fire!” You half yelled over the music.

“I’ll follow you anywhere.” He responded in a giddy tone.

You lead him outside, quick to evade Jake’s interruption. There were only a few people standing outside, Danny being one of them.

“Hi stranger.” You said, coming up behind him.

He spun around on his heels and gave you a knowing smile. “There she is. I take it, you liked your drink?”

You nodded. “Best damn bartender at every event.”

He bows at you. “I aim to please. I’ve already met Matt here. Seems like a stand up guy.”

Matt chuckles at him as Danny gives him a glance.

“You’re right.” You respond. “Hey you wanna make s’mores?”

“I’ll get them. You guys finish your conversation.” Matt offers, rubbing your back and heading to the fire.

Danny looks down at you.

“What?” You ask.

“He seems nice.” Danny offers.

“He is.” You say, glancing at Matt dipping three marshmallows in fire.

“Uh-huh.” Danny pauses. “And how does Jake feel about that?”

You shift your eyes back to Danny. “It doesn’t matter how he feels about it.”

Danny sucks in his cheeks and lets out a laugh. “Right. You two are trouble, you know that?”

“Oh I’m well aware.” You retort. “Did Sam ever find you?”

Danny sips his beer. “I haven’t seen him in- I dunno an hour maybe?”

“Oh. Well when I arrived he was looking for you. Something about fog machines?”

Danny cuts his eyes. “Oh hell no. I am not doing that shit again. That was his job.”

You chuckle. “Sounds like Sam.”

“Fuck. There he is. I’m dipping before he catches a whiff that I’m out here. Don’t rat on me.” Danny says, holding his finger up playfully at you.

You salute him. “Scout’s honor.”

“Good luck with that.” Danny points towards Matt.

You wave him off and he quickly walks the other way toward the house.

Sam catches your sight and approaches you. “You seen Daniel?”

You purse your lips at him. “Nope.”

“Slippery fucker.” He says, barely above a whisper.

You cackle.

“Oh by the way Jake’s pissed. He’s slamming shit in the kitchen. Want a beer?”

You let out a breath. “Most definitely.”

Sam heads towards the keg just as Matt is making his way back to you with three s’mores.

“Where did Danny go?”

“Bartender emergency.” You lie, taking the s’more he made for you. “Thank you.”

Sam came back over and handed you a cup of beer before patting your back and heading back to the house. If you had to guess he saw Danny in a window.

Matt knitted his brows together and gave you a strange smile. “Your friends are weird.”

You chuckled. “You don’t know the half of it.”

You and Matt spent around thirty more minutes outside enjoying the fire, s’mores, and beer. Before long you had gotten chilly and wanted to go back inside. The drink Danny had made you along with the beer had started to make you feel a little fuzzy. Once back inside you spotted Jake at the beer pong table with Meredith. He had just sunk a shot and she jumped for joy when he did. Gross again.

“Hey I’m going to go pee! I’ll be right back.” You say, giving Matt a heads up.

He nods and you head for the original bathroom you had gone to. Once inside you peed, washed your hands, and stared at yourself in the mirror. A part of you wished you had just stayed home. As much as the thrill of being with Jake excited you, seeing him with Meredith made you feel like shit. You hated that it was this way. When you two were good, you were great. The highest highs and in turn, the lowest lows. Neither one of you were effective communicators, putting your pride above all else. You fluffed your hair and went to open the door, but to your surprise someone had barged in. Jake, with a wicked smile on his lips.

“Need some help in here?”

You crossed your arms. “Certainly not from you.”

“Oh tough girl, are we?” He steps closer to you and puts his face inches from yours. “I know what shit you’re trying to pull. Cut it out.”

You glare at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He backed you up to the sink and put both arms out next to you, propping himself on the vanity while sinking closer towards you. “Yes you do. Tell your friend to fucking leave.”

You smirk at him. “No. I don’t think I will.”

He slides his hand down to your thigh and you feel like you could explode.

“Don’t start with me.” He warns, gripping at your flesh.

You swallow hard and look at him. “We’re not together Jake. I can do whatever or should I say whoever I want.”

That renders him speechless as his eyes bore into yours.

You remove his hand and get out from under him heading to the door. You turn back around and laugh.

“Oh and you should get Mere to do something about… that.” You tease, motioning to the beginning of an erection bulging in his pants.

Before he can respond you walk out and close the door. You take a deep breath and adjust your dress before returning to your date.

“Tequila shot?”

Matt smiles and nods. Then you’re heading off into the kitchen. You spot Josh and yell “tequila!” It doesn’t take him long to reach you.

“Let me get the whole gang, start pouring the good shit!” Josh yells, before diving back into the crowd.

You smiled and headed to their pantry, bending down to find a liquor cabinet with a keypad on it. You type in the four digit code and grab a brand new bottle of Casamigos. It was your favorite. Then you shut the cabinet and head back to the island, reaching for the shot glasses. Danny and Sam arrive and begin to start on the shots.

“We need seven right?” Danny asks.

“Yeah. I assume when Josh finds Jake he’ll bring blondie with him.” Sam answers, digging the pre-cut limes from the refrigerator.

Sure enough Sam was right. Josh brought back Jake and Meredith, his hand was guiding her on her back.

“Alright, gather around everyone!” Josh announced. “To the original crew and a couple of new friends. Happy Halloween you fuckers! I love you all!”

You giggle and yell back, “Cheers!” in unison with everyone else. You slam the shot down on the island before shooting the liquid down. It burns but in the best way possible. Meredith chokes hers down, spilling it down her chin. Amateur. Then Jake does something that catches even you off guard. He looks down at her and swipes his thumb over her bottom lip cleaning up the spilled tequila. Then he cuts his eyes over to you. You chew on your cheek and lock eyes back with him. Sam must have noticed because he let out a small laugh.

One thing about Sam? He loved to start shit. It was one of the reasons you loved him so much.

“Hey sexy witch!” Sam called over to you. “How about one of your specialties tonight? I mean it’s only right that the newbies get to bare witness.”

Jake’s expression stiffened, but you softened and smiled.

“Pour it up Sammy.”

Josh and Danny collectively “oooooh’d” and slapped the island. Sam began to grab a shot of birthday cake vodka, topping it with whipped cream. Then he sets it down before you.

“You know the rules mama, no hands.” Josh reminds, while you nod.

You tuck your hair behind your ears and place your hands behind your back, holding your wrists. Matt looks down at you with his eyebrows slightly raised, you just wink at him and part your lips. You wrap your lips around the rim of the shot glass and just for a split second lock eyes with Jake before sucking your cheeks in. You propel the shot glass back and stand up while the sweet liquid pours down your throat. You take the shot glass out of your mouth while the guys around you, minus Jake, erupt cheer. You can feel a tinge of whipped cream on the corner of your mouth, you start to wipe it but Matt beats you to it.

“Let me.” Matt says, taking his pointer finger and wiping the small white spot.

Without thinking you take his finger into your mouth and suck the remnants off.

Matt takes a sharp inhale.

Josh clears his throat and mutters “Oh fuck.” Before turning his boisterous self back on. “The talent! Thank you for blessing us with such a sight. Sam, Danny, come with me really quick. I need help with these speakers back here.”

You glance over and Sam makes wide eyes at you while smiling. Then all three of them trudge off, just leaving the four of you in silence.

“Wanna go dance?” You ask Matt, pulling on his arm.

“Lead the way babe.”

You take him in the crowd where everyone is dancing. If you were sober maybe you would have been embarrassed with your forward actions, but as the liquor sloshed around in your stomach you couldn’t care less. You two were close, really close. Swaying on each other. Matt leaned down and placed a kiss on your neck. Then his hands trailed further down your body until they met your ass, giving it a light squeeze. You looked up in surprise at him. He leaned forward and whispered into your neck, “Wanna get out of here?”

Before you could respond you felt a firm grip on your arm. You spun around and there was Jake, seething.

“Let’s fucking go.” He growled as he pulled you away.

Matt furrowed his brows and went to grab your other wrist. You stopped and Jake turned around with a death stare. “Get your fucking hands off of her. Didn’t your mother ever teach you not to touch things that don’t belong to you?”

Matt let go and continued to stare at you in disbelief. Your feet continued to move with Jake as you mouthed “sorry.”

Jake didn’t let go or loosen his grip as he continued to drag you through the crowded house. He took you upstairs and towards a familiar door. Once inside he slammed his door and locked it before turning his attention towards you. He was mad. Furious even. Possibly the most upset you had ever seen him.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He yells with a scowl plastered on his face.

“Oh fuck off.” You say, completely disinterested.

“You’re going to bring some random fuck to my house and then rub all up against him blatantly in front of me?”

You laugh. “What about your little Meredith? You wanna put your hands all over her and when I am enjoying myself with another person it’s a problem?”

Jake scoffs. “I wasn’t letting her kiss all over me and feel me up!”

“So what? Let her.” You spit.

Jake looks at you pointedly. “You need to learn who you belong to.”

You let out a maniacal laugh. “Inform me Jake? Who do I belong to? Because it sure as hell isn’t you!”

You see his face clouding with darkness. “That’s where you’re wrong. You do belong to me.” He steps up closer to you. “You’re mine.”

That causes warmness to swell in your stomach, but you wouldn’t let him know that.

“Not anymore.” You say with as much confidence as you can muster.

“Don’t say that.” He says taking a step towards you. “It’s a lie. We don’t lie to each other. Remember?”

You scoff. “I don’t think we have ever followed through with that promise to one another. Are we done here? I’m getting bored.”

Jake half smirks at you. “Bored?”

You glare back at him unimpressed. “Yeah, bored. I didn’t stutter.”

“Bored… That’s funny. Don’t act like you didn’t wear this little.. outfit to get my attention. You know you could wear a trash bag and my eyes would be on you.”

You roll your eyes trying to keep a blank stare on your face, but internally you’re on fire.

“It turns you on that I’m jealous, doesn’t it?” He asks.

You suck in your cheeks.

“You knew exactly what would happen when you brought him here. You knew exactly where you would end up tonight regardless, but you still brought him here.”

You crack a smile at him. “I brought a tall hot guy on a date and then you cockblocked me. That’s what happened.”

Jake steps closer to you until his body is touching yours. He lightly grabs your wrists and pins them to the wall. His eyes scan your face for some sort of reaction. You’re falling apart trying to remain unaffected. You can feel your heart thudding as his breath fans over your neck. “Let’s see how long it takes for this little confidence facade to crack. Shall we?”

“Fuck yo-“

Then his lips crash onto yours. Slow and warm, which is the exact opposite of how you expected. Suddenly that hardened exterior has cracked entirely as you kiss him back with every ounce of passion in your body. Fuck, you missed his lips on you.

He takes his mouth off of yours and stares down into your eyes. Neither one of you dare say a word. Then he goes back in, kissing you feverishly. His hands grab at your waist and pulls you closer into him. Your tongues meet and you swear you could feel fireworks throughout your whole body. The truth is, no one could ever make you feel the way that you felt with Jake. This was just further proof. Jake’s calloused hands begin to rub up your thigh as you take in sharp breaths from his mouth. He fumbles around with the hem of your very short and very tight dress. Finally he makes his way up your dress spreading your legs apart. He takes two fingers and swipes them over your drenched clothed center and you shutter at the feeling. You can feel that smirk on his face while your lips are still connected. He bites your bottom lip and pulls away.

“Look at you. Already making a mess of yourself.”

You take a breath. “Yeah, Matt did a number on me on the dance floor.”

You see Jake let out a small laugh at your boldness while he also clenched his jaw. He was right, jealousy did turn you on.

“Just when I thought you were going to be sweet.” He says, popping the two fingers in his mouth. “Strip.”

You cross your arms at him.

“Strip. Now. I’m not asking again.”

He backs away from you and you give him a glare. You’re going to do exactly what he says because you’re weak for him and beyond turned on.

His eyes stare intensely at you while you reach back and grab the small zipper. You tug it down and begin to peel yourself out of the dress. You see him take a noticeably deeper breath when your breasts are freed. You grab the material from around your waist and shimmy out of it, dropping it to the floor. Only in your boots and black silky thongs, you step out of the dress and look at Jake.

“Goddamn.” He says lowly, raking his eyes up and down your body.

You reach down to begin removing your boots when Jake speaks up. “No. Leave them. You wanna dress up like a whore tonight so I’m going to fuck you like one. Knees.”

You swallow the excitement that draws up your throat from that statement while you take a few steps closer to him. You sink to your knees and Jake reaches down and softly runs his finger through your hair. He reaches down and hooks your chin under his pointer finger.

“So pretty and this makeup looks so good. Unfortunately it’s about to get ruined.”

He unbuckles his pants and lets them hit the floor, he’s already hard. You look up at him waiting for instruction. His hand returns to your face running his thumb along your lips.

“You know the rules mama. No hands.” He spits, referencing earlier.

You look up at him and nod, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. He slightly twitches at your action. The way you affected him always turned you on even more. His cock grazes your tongue and he already lets out a breath. You lick a hot stripe up his length then swirl your tongue around the tip and his hand finds the back of your head.

“Quit teasing.”

You take him into your mouth, rolling your tongue around as he travels further back into your mouth.

“Fuck.” He lets out through gritted teeth.

He sinks your head further until you gag lightly, then he pulls you back. You begin to bob up and down around him while his grip in your hair tightens. You glance up and make eye contact with him through your lashes while hollowing your cheeks around him. He looked so fucking hot. Brows furrowed, a sheen amount of sweat broke out on his skin, face pinched in concentration and bewilderment. But when your eyes meet his he lets out a groan and pulls you off of him so he doesn’t finish already. You let out a small laugh and he looks down at you still on your knees.

You start to wipe the corner of your mouth. “What’s wrong Jakey? Made a mess of yourself already?”

He smirks at you. “That mouth is going to get you into trouble. On the bed. Ass up.”

You get to your feet and make your way to the bed, propping your ass up like you were told. You’re already throbbing with anticipation, you know when he gets like this he fucks you mericilessly. You feel him step up behind you and widen your legs. He runs his hands all up and down your ass before giving it a swift smack. You let out a whimper. Then, he quickly rips your panties down to your knees. You’re expecting him to ease himself into you, but to your surprise you hear him get down on his knees. He uses both of his arms to pull your ass back straight to his face. He begins kissing the inside of the back of your thighs and you’re already worked up. He flattens his tongue and licks up your center, popping his tongue at your most sensitive spot. He continues to lick and suck until you’re gripping his sheets for dear life. When he adds two fingers, you’re done for. You can feel that heat burning in your core coming to a high, you clench your eyes shut as your legs begin to shake.

“Fuck-“ you moan.

Just as that feeling is about to bubble into euphoria, Jake stops. You whip your head around and he stands up and wipes the slick off his face.

“Jake!”

“Shhh. You know I always take care of you.” He smirks. “Come here pretty girl.”

He flips you over and climbs on top of you. He leans down and kisses down your neck while his erection presses on your stomach. Slowly but surely he makes his way down to your breasts, kissing and nipping at your nipples. You indulge in the sensation and your hands quickly wrap into his long hair. He reaches down and rubs himself all over you, you both let out breathy moans. He finally sinks into, slowly, letting you adjust. You can feel your eyes roll into the back of your head as he picks up the pace. His mouth sloppily meets yours. You’re both moaning into each other's mouth as you wrap your knees around him. You lace your fingers into his hair giving it a light tug. This causes him to lift his head slightly and he groans while diving back down to kiss your neck.

“Oh god- fuck.” You whine, as his mouth and tongue roughly suck at your throat.

“Nothing compares to you. Nothing ever will.” Jake pants into your ear. “You’re like a drug to me. I’ll swallow you every night for the rest of my life baby.”

He knows when he’s vocal like that it sends you into oblivion. And here you are right on the edge.

“Jake-“ you whine.

“I know, baby. I know. I’m right there with you. Ah fuck.”

Jake slams one of your hands down onto the bed, lacing his fingers with yours. Your other hand is gripping his shoulder for dear life. His hair is tickling your face and shoulders adding to the sensation. That familiar burn is back and you know this time that flame will spread to every orifice of your body. Jake is also rapidly becoming undone as his strokes become faster but more sloppy. You throw your head back into the pillow and let go as you feel yourself leave your body for a moment. Jake finishes just as you’re beginning to recover, he’s a mess of curse words and heavy breathing. He stays on you, as you can feel both of your hearts beating rapidly. You both stay like this for a few minutes, just trying to recover.

Finally he gives your forehead a kiss and then rolls off staring up at the ceiling for a moment. It’s quiet, but then Jake sits up and grabs a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his nightstand. He lights up a Camel and takes a puff before passing it to you. You let out a small laugh and accept it, inhaling the minty flavor. Jake tilts his head to the side and stares at you. It seems as if he is studying every characteristic about you. Like he had forgotten how beautiful you looked after he ruined you.

You exhale and turn to him. “What?”

He shrugs. “I like looking at you.”

You scoff a little.

“I do.” He insists. “I’ve missed you.”

“Funny way of showing it.” You retort.

“I don’t want to do this tonight. But I would like to have a conversation in the morning about it. Would you like to go back down or stay up here and watch scary movies?”

You think about continuing the harshness with him, but truthfully you don’t want to. “Up to you.”

Jake sucks in a breath. “Okay, can we go back down there and cook a pizza? I’ll start kicking the randoms out and then we can come back up here and put on a movie. There’s a new slasher film on Netflix, I thought you might like it.”

You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you had already seen it, so you just smiled and said: “Yeah, okay.”

Jake matches your smile then leans over and plants a kiss lightly on your mouth before rolling off the bed. He threw you a t-shirt before heading to his bathroom. You finally peel your boots off and pad into the bathroom with him. He opens up his medicine cabinet and grabs a pack of your feminine wipes. He kept them here, which means that all of your things would still be in that cabinet. You try not to smile as he sets them down on the counter and leaves to give you privacy. You stare at yourself in the mirror and try to fix your makeup. You weren’t sure if you were buzzed off of the alcohol or something else entirely. After fixing yourself, you exit the bathroom to see Jake plopping a pair of his slippers on the floor for you.

“Probably don’t wanna walk out there barefoot.”

You nod and accept the slippers. “What about-“

Jake cuts you off before you can finish. “He’s gone. They’re both gone. Sam escorted them out.”

“Oh.” You say plainly.

Jake narrows his eyes at you. “Try not to sound so disappointed.”

That elicits a giggle from you and Jake playfully rolls his eyes, then grabs your hand. He laces his fingers with yours and leads you out of his room.

To your surprise, the party had thinned out significantly. How long were you two up there? It seemed like maybe thirty minutes but it looked as if hours had passed. Music still bumped as you made your way downstairs in nothing but Jake’s shirt and shoes. You scanned the room and didn’t see Matt or Meredith. That gave you a sigh of relief. Eventually you would have to speak with Matt and apologize. You felt a little bad as he was nice, but he wasn’t Jake. That would always be a flaw in any potential partner you could ever have. One that you weren’t sure you could ever get past.

Jake took you to the kitchen and preheated the oven yelling at a few people to “fuck off and get out” along the way.

You heard a familiar voice echo towards you. “Jake are you telling my guests to fuck off and get out? It’s only 2am what’s wrong with y-“ Josh pauses when he sees you standing there in his twin’s shirt and a smile spreads across his face. “So you two have worked things out I assume.”

You blush a little feeling silly for the show earlier in front of everyone. You see Sam and Danny approaching Josh.

“Well well. What do we have here?” Sam asks, glancing between you and Jake.

“I’m shocked- truly.” Danny adds, facetiously.

“Mhm.” Jake answers only to Josh, taking your hand back in his. “Also yeah it’s 2am it’s time to wrap this shit up.”

“Yeah which is why we need to keep this party going all night because you two have weeks of sexual frustration to let out!” Sam exclaimed.

“To be fair Sam, by the look of it, they already have.” Danny snickers.

Sam erupts with laughter. “That won’t be the last of it. Remember that last cabin trip we took? They’re like bunnies-“

“Okay fuck enough! Keep drinking, it’s obviously making you all more intelligent. Just keep everyone down here.” Jake concedes, shaking his head.

Josh laughs. “Well you heard the man! Party stays down stairs everyone!” He shouts, although no one pays him hardly any mind.

Sam slinks by you and wraps his arm around you while Jake throws the pizza in the oven. “Feel better?”

You roll your eyes at him. “Hush.”

He gives you shoulder a squeeze. “I’m just teasing. I’m glad you’re back around. They’re all so dreadfully boring.”

Jake huffs at him. “Don’t you all have a party to get back to or something?”

“Good point.” Danny says. “Have fun you two. Be safe!” Then he heads off to the crowd with Sam close behind shouting: “What he said! Daniel, wait! The fog machines!”

Josh chuckles at them and walks over to you. He wraps you in a hug and kisses your forehead. “We have missed you mama.”

“Watch it.” Jake warns half heartedly.

Josh scoffs. “Oh please. Also let it be known that Jake has done nothing but sulk around for the past few weeks! He made me text you to remind you about this party tonight!”

Jake grins at him and playfully shoves him along. “Get out of here.”

Josh throws his hands up and winks at you before diving back into the party.

Jake shakes his head and looks at you.

You grin back up at him. “Is that true?”

He blushes and takes your hand. “Ask me about it in the morning.”

Sunlight bathed in through the splits in the curtains. You half opened one eye, still trying to recover from your slumber. You turned your head to catch a glimpse of Jake’s alarm clock. It read: OCT. 31ST 10:42am. Jake was still asleep, softly snoring next to you as his arm draped over your side. Last night had ended quite perfectly. You had taken your pizza upstairs, watched that movie, and fucked two more times. It was almost 6am when you both had finally dozed off. You smiled a little when you thought of it, but that smile faded when you realized how full your bladder was. You attempted to wiggle out from under Jake’s arm, but he just pulled you in closer to him.

“Morning.” He says with his eyes still closed and a grin on his face.

“Good morning Jake. I really need to pee.”

He pulled you even closer and started kissing all over your face and neck. “C’mon stay in bed.”

You giggled. “Jake!”

He groaned. “Okay, off you go.”

You bolted up as soon as he released you and he laughed. After peeing you washed your hands and had yourself a glance in the mirror. There were purplish love bites all over your neck and collarbone. They wouldn’t be fun to cover up. You grabbed your toothbrush and started brushing your teeth. Jake opened the door, illuminated in sunlight with a smile on his face. He stepped in and hugged you from behind, giving you a peck on the cheek. This seemed a little unlike him, but you went with it. He grabbed his toothbrush and said “Breakfast?”

You hummed and nodded.

After you had made yourself somewhat presentable you went through the clothes on the floor to try and find your dress from the night before.

“What are you doing?” Jake asked with knitted brows.

“Looking for my clothes.” You replied.

He sucked in his cheeks. “I’ll give you a pair of my sweatpants and a hoodie. You can wear my slippers too.”

“Jake I’ll look homeless.” You say with a laugh.

“No you won’t. I like it when you wear my clothes.” He offers with a smile.

You playfully roll your eyes and accept his offer.

To your surprise you come downstairs to a somewhat clean house. Josh is poking about the kitchen, wiping down counters and softly humming to himself.

“Good morning you two- ugh! Fuck!”

You make a face at him. “What?”

“What happened to your neck? It looks like you were attacked by an octopus. Holy shit.” He states, dumbfoundedly staring at you.

“Gotta mark your territory. Right?” Jake interjects with a smirk.

Josh makes a fake gagging sound as Jake grabs your arm and leads you to the door.

“Sam was right! God that’s something I never thought I would say.” Josh yells after you two head for the door.

You crunched the leaves beneath your feet into a 24 hour breakfast diner that you and Jake had frequented before. There were little spider webs and skeletons hung up everywhere. Jake had ordered you both the Halloween special that had consisted of some sort of pumpkin coffee, witchy waffles, and batty bacon.

“So.” Jake said as he sipped his coffee.

“So?” You answered.

He lets out a huff. “You make me nervous.”

You laughed at him. “No I don’t.”

“Yes you do.”

Before you can speak he continues. “Okay fuck it here it goes. So yes I asked Josh to text you. In fact, I bugged the piss out of him about it for days. I did sulk for those three weeks. And when I saw you walk in yesterday with that fuck I felt a feeling that I never want to feel again.”

You swallow and glance up at him. “Oh…”

He huffs again and pushes his hair back. “What I’m trying to say here is- I want you. I want you in every way all of the time. I don’t want to keep fueling the stupid fights and breakups. I’m done with that. I’ve done a lot of reflecting and… well, I love you. I’ve loved you for years and I want to keep on loving you for years. I want us to be together and actually give it a shot. A permanent shot. You and me.”

You blink and stare at him, entirely unsure what to even say. You and Jake had technically been together for years and this was the first time you had heard him say he loved you stone cold sober. You felt like you could vomit, but in a good way?

“Please say something.” He spits out, slightly anxious.

“Jake- I…” You take a breath and swallow. “I love you too.”

A visible sigh leaves his body as that perfect smile creeps over his face.

“But I’m scared. I’m scared that you’re going to hurt me. That we’re going to hurt each other.”

He grabs your hand and laces it with his. “I know. A big part of that is my own fault. But I’m serious. I want to try. I want to communicate with you. I want to make it work. I want you.”

You chew on your lip, still unsure of his words. It felt surreal, like you were in a dream. You had been waiting for years to hear this come out of his mouth. Slowly, you nod your head and muster up a very small “Okay.” With a smile.

Jake jolts up and leans across the table grabbing your jaw and pulling you in for a kiss. Then he puts his forehead up against yours and mutters a “thank you.” Before sitting down like all eyes weren’t on you two.

“How’s your coffee?” He asks you nonchalantly.

You look up at him and laugh. He does the same.

“It’s perfect. How’s yours?”

He smiles at you with those beautiful white teeth that you rarely see.

“Perfect.” He answers back.

Your waitress brings your Halloween specials and you both eat and giggle at one another. When you’re finished, Jake takes your hand and leads you outside. The crisp air raises goosebumps on your skin, yet you had never felt more warm.

“Can I take you back to your place to get changed then we go have a spooky day? I still think we have time to pick out a pumpkin and carve it. We just need to be back before dark because I shelled out on Halloween candy this year.”

You laugh in a surprised way. “Jake Kiszka are you getting soft on me? Handing out candy to children?”

He rolls his eyes. “No. It’s a competition. The best costumes get the most candy.”

You throw your head back. “That’s sort of fucked up.”

“But you’re going to do it with me. Aren’t you?” He asks with a smirk.

“Obviously.”

He kisses your cheek and laughs. “That’s my girl.”

****

#greta van fic #greta van fleet #greta van fleet fic #jake gvf #jake kiszka x reader #jake kiszka #jake kiska fic #jake x reader #jake kiszka smut #gvf halloween series #Jake kiszka gvf

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justsome-di · 1 year

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Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub, Everyone Keeps Their Organs: Chapter 13

Summary: Alex is an ordinary, highly-introverted office worker. He clocks in and out and goes home to his little apartment he shares with his younger sister. He hasn’t dated in years. Until his co-workers set him up on a blind date.

The only issue is he and his date are not on the same page. At all.

While Alex thinks it’s a normal date, Damián is under the impression Alex is a client who paid to be there. No-so-quickly, they realize something is up. It’s all a prank. Damián is a sex worker Alex’s co-workers hired as a sick joke.

After reassuring that they’re both okay, Alex decides he wants revenge for both him and Damián. The plan is to use the stigma of sex work and start a 6-week, scandalous fake dating scheme with a big finale at the office Halloween party. Alex’s co-workers will be too horrified to try to prank him again. At least, that’s the plan.

You can also read this on AO3, or Patreon (patrons also get chapters a week early along with bonus content). If you’re enjoying the story and want to support me in other ways, I do have a ko-fi! Or consider dropping me a message in my inbox or reblogging this post!

Martin and Sam picked up the check. Alex assumed they did it out of guilt and for a quick escape. They excused themselves as soon as the waiter returned their credit card, saying something about their dog getting restless in their apartment.

Alex and Damián stayed behind at the table after their exit. Alex finished his wine and thought about what Martin would report back to the guys. There were a few possibilities. He could either tell the other Douche Bags that Marcus was a totally chill guy and hide the fact that he had been mortified. Or he would say he got bad vibes from Marcus—that he intentionally embarrassed his wife. Or he would say nothing at all, too embarrassed that he had spent the evening with a sex worker and wanting to avoid all the jokes that would get hurled at him.

Alex could just imagine what the guys would say. Andrew would probably make a quip like, “You spent a whole evening with a prostitute and didn’t get laid? How’d you manage that?”

Or there would probably be worse, whispered comments. Questions about what Marcus was like, how he dressed, how he acted. It made Alex angry just thinking about it.

Maybe, he thought generously, Martin was going to say nothing because he was genuinely trying to make up for the prank. The dinner, after all, was his and Sam’s attempt at an olive branch. Sam did seem to actually disapprove of her husband’s actions. Martin had seemed genuinely remorseful.

It could have been safe to assume that Martin meant no further harm.

Alex turned to Damián, ready to ask if he wanted to head out. Damián was staring off again. He was watching everyone around him and picking at the skin around his nails. His plate had sat mostly untouched through the evening. By the time it was picked up, Alex was sure he had barely eaten.

“Hey,” Alex said quietly. He put his hand on Damián’s elbow. It brought Damián back. “I know I keep asking, but are you okay?”

Damián opened his mouth but closed it again. Alex kept his hand on his elbow. It felt like the right thing to do. Like Damián needed a tether to the world.

“Yeah, I’ve just been a bit out of it this week,” Damián said.

“And this dinner probably didn’t help. I’m sorry. I didn’t know she’d start asking questions—“

“It’s not your fault.”

His friend crush was hitting him at full force. He wanted to make Damián feel better. He wanted to bring Damián back to himself.

“Can I do anything?” Alex asked. “To help cheer you up?”

“You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I’d like to. If you’d let me.”

He wanted to worry about Damián because it was a privilege to have someone to worry about. They had laughed so well an hour before. He thought, maybe, that was a sign they could take another step towards being friends. Friends, after all, was all Alex could hope for.

Damián’s face softened. His frame weakened. “Okay.”

“Do you want to do anything else tonight? A shitty dinner seems like a bad way to end the night.”

“I was being serious about Pretty Women. If that’s not too much. I’d like to watch it with you.”

Alex’s heart sped up. “It’s not too much. Do you want to go back to my apartment?”

“If it’s not imposing—“

“I just don’t want to send you home as you are.”

“Alright. Okay.”

“Just a heads up, though, my sister might be home. If you’re not up for more company, I can probably shoo her away.”

“No!” Damián sat up a little straighter. “That’s fine. You don’t have to hide her. But does—who does she think you’re with right now?”

“She thinks I’m on a normal date with a guy named Marcus.”

Damián nodded. “Got it.”

“I can pay you since it’ll be like working—”

“It will be nothing like working. Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Really. It’s fine.”

They donned their coats and pushed their chairs in. Had Alex left his apartment clean? Was Eve going to be asleep by the time they got home, passed out on her couch? Would Alex have to shuffle his little sister off to his own bed and ask Damián to keep it down while they watched a movie? No, it was far too early for Eve to be asleep. She was going to be conscious and annoying.

The most he could do was try to be a good host with what he knew he could offer.

“I can you make something to eat, too,” Alex said.

Damián blinked at him, almost like he was forcing himself to look confused. “What?”

“I noticed you didn’t eat much.”

Maybe Sam’s questions rattled him too much that he couldn’t eat. Maybe it was whatever it was that put him in a fog that also took away his appetite. Alex wasn’t going to push, but he did feel like he owed Damián something.

“I’ll make you something at home,” Alex said. “Fair warning, it won’t be fancy or anything.”

Damián put his hands in his pockets. He bit his lip. Finally, he nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

And they left together, Damián insisting on paying for an Uber. Alex protested once, to be polite. When he saw the surge prices, he felt a touch guilty. But Damián said that it wasn’t a big deal. If Alex was going to host him for a couple of hours, then Damián could pay for them to get to his apartment. Damián booked the car without even flinching.

Waiting on the sidewalk, Damián slipped his hand into Alex’s elbow again. Alex’s stomach flipped over. He hadn’t been touched in so long. Just having Damián’s hand on him twice in one night was making him feel all sorts of things.

Damián pulled away when the Uber pulled up, and they sat in comfortable silence through the drive. Alex sent Eve a warning text that he was bringing home a guest. It went unread.

“It’s not the nicest building,” Alex said when the Uber came to a stop at the curb.

“No, it looks like every other building in the city,” Damián said.

“That’s my point. It’s an average New York apartment.”

“Well, my point is, I wasn’t expecting The Dakota or Hudson Yards. I’m sure the building is very underwhelming.”

Alex got them into the building and suggested they take the stairs rather than the rickety elevator. It was probably fine, but Alex was starting to feel more and more nervous on it as it came to increasingly jolting stops.

He apologized for the hallways which were dim and currently carried a smell of weed. Damián asked him if he thought he had never seen an apartment building before. Damián just seemed so bougie, Alex thought, that it would be odd to picture him in any apartment that wasn’t brightly lit with nice potted trees and new wallpaper in the corridors.

They reached Alex’s door which had no personality just like every other unit in the building. There was a deep, slow voice coming from inside. Alex shoved his keys in the lock and gave them the little jiggle they needed to actually unlock the door.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “That’s my sister. She listens to her podcasts too loud.”

Damián wasn’t bothered by it.

The door opened. The sound of the podcast flooded into the hallway. Damián stepped inside so Alex could shut the sound out again, giving their neighbors across the hall a little relief.

The voice, so familiar that it felt like Damián and Alex were walking in on an old friend, was clear now.

“Oh!” Damián said. His shoulders lost a little tension. “Night Vale. Nice.”

“She’s getting caught up,” Alex said. “She’s two years behind and got upset that I spoiled something.”

“That’s valid. I’m months behind.”

Alex stepped further into the apartment. He pulled off his coat and threw it over a bar chair that sat on the edge of the living room and the kitchenette.

He was regretting bringing Damián home already. Eve had left dirty dishes on the counters and stove. There was a pan with crumbs from, probably, vegetarian chicken nuggets. Alex knew the familiar smell. A pot with a colander sitting on top. The fist-sized speaker that played Welcome to Night Vale sat in the middle of it all.

The bathroom door was open. Alex shoved his head in. Eve had her hair pulled up in a bun, showing off her undercut. She was in pajamas—a baggy shirt she had stolen from Alex and sweatpants—brushing her teeth. The bathroom was a mess, as well. Her clothes from the day were on the floor. A bottle of face wash and moisturizer sat out on the counter surrounded by little globs of their own contents.

Just as Eve turned to Alex and Alex readied a stern request for her to clean up, Cecil Palmer announced the weather. Twice as loud as he was speaking, a guitar began strumming something fast.

“Turn it down,” Alex snapped, trying to raise his voice above the music. “We’re going to get noise complaints again.”

“They should be thankful,” Eve said around toothpaste foam. “It’s premium gay culture.”

“Just turn it down.”

She rolled her eyes, but she grabbed her phone and turned down the volume until the music coming from the kitchen could barely be heard.

“And clean up a little, we have a guest,” Alex said.

Eve’s eyes widened. She pulled her toothbrush out of her mouth and spit.

“Am I meeting him? I’m meeting this guy?” She smiled, and Alex thought it looked evil.

But then she looked down at herself, shoved Alex out of the bathroom and closed the door.

Damián was still standing around, hanging up his coat on the coat rack and unlacing his boots. Of course he was a polite house guest who took off his shoes before fully entering someone’s trashed apartment.

“She’ll be out in a second if you want to say hi,” Alex said. “But I’ll shove her in my room for the night.”

“It’s really okay. You don’t have to shove her anywhere if she doesn’t mind being around us.”

Alex looked at the mess surrounding him. How did one girl manage to do so much damage in one hour? He started folding the throw blanket Eve had crumpled up and thrown to the floor and made a move to open a window to air out the smell of slightly-burnt fake meat.

“I’m sorry it’s so messy,” he said. “If I had known a tornado passed through when we were gone, I wouldn’t have suggested we come back here.”

“It’s okay! It’s an apartment. It’s supposed to be lived in.”

Damián started to help tidy, and Alex felt awful about it. If Alex’s mother had seen his guest was cleaning, she would have killed both him and Eve. Damián picked throw pillows off the floor and put them back on the couch. Alex gathered a dirty water glass and plate from the coffee table and rushed them to the sink.

The bathroom door opened. Eve stepped out, fully dressed in her jeans and a different baggy t-shirt. She walked awkwardly towards the living room where Damián was still crouched over and picking up a book off the floor. He had stopped to look at the cover and examine the bookmark placed halfway through. It was Giovanni’s Room.

“Marcus, this is my sister, Eve,” Alex said.

He dug his nail into a cuticle. Eve was a good kid, he knew. She would know better. She would be on her best behavior.

Damián turned around. As soon as he saw Eve, his face lit up brighter than it had all evening. He set the book down on the coffee table.

“No way!” he said. “This is crazy.”

Eve stared at him and then at Alex. She pointed to Damián. Alex didn’t know what was happening.

“Uh. Alex? I don’t know how to tell you this.” She looked at Damián again. “This guy isn’t Marcus. His name is Damián.”

“Fuck,” Alex breathed.

“This is wild.” Damián looked back and forth between Alex and Eve. “You two look exactly alike. How did I not notice?”

“How do you two know each other?” Alex asked.

“He’s been coming to my book club for a year,” Eve said. “He’s the one that helped me ask my professor if I could retake my midterm.”

“How did that go, by the way?” Damián asked. He took Eve by the hand, and Alex tried not to feel jealous of the sudden yet comfortable physical contact between them. “I’ve been meaning to swing by the bookstore and ask.”

“He agreed to let me make it up,” Eve said. “And I found a tutor!”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. I asked Academic Resources if they had any special hours because I thought it was something you would tell me to do, and they set me up with this one guy who said he’d stay late with me. His name’s Leo.”

Damián gasped. “Leo?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. This is freaky.” Damián held up his hands, palms out. Alex was still confused. “Leo’s my brother.”

“No shit!” Eve shouted.

“Noise complaints,” Alex reminded her.

“This,” Damian said, “is the most insane string of coincidences. This is—this complicates things, doesn’t it?”

He put his hands on his hip and pursed his lips at Alex. Alex sighed.

It wasn’t good. He didn’t want Eve to know. He didn’t want her caught up in it. He didn’t want her to have reasons to think he was a sleazy guy. His guilt was back, thinking about how he must have looked from someone else’s perspective.

“Why are you calling him Marcus?” Eve asked. She turned to Damián. “Did you tell him your name is Marcus?”

Damián and Alex shared a look.

“She doesn’t know about my job,” Damián said. “Do you want her to know?”

“It’s up to you,” Alex said. “It’s your life.”

Damián looked to Eve. “Yeah. You’re cool, kiddo. Let’s talk for a minute.”

Kiddo. Alex never gave Eve a cute nickname. She wouldn’t have allowed it. She would have said he was trying too hard to make up for their age gap.

Damián led her to the couch. They sat next to each other, and Alex perched on the arm behind Damián. The apartment was too small for three people. It was already cramped when it was just Alex living in it.

“So, I’ve never told you what I’ve done for a living,” Damián said.

“I’ve always assumed you had some super cool job,” Eve said.

“I do.” Damián patted her knee. “I’m an escort and a sex worker.”

Eve looked at him, unfazed. “Okay. What else?”

Damián looked over his shoulder to Alex. “Why can’t everyone react like that?”

Yeah. Alex had had a fucking panic attack when he found out. Sam had conducted a violating interview. The Douche Bags had made it all a prank.

“So, the date we had a couple of weeks ago, it wasn’t a real date,” Alex said.

Eve’s mouth opened into an O shape. Her eyebrows scrunched together in disgust, and she pressed her hands to her ears. “I don’t need to know that you hired a sex worker. I respect it, Damián, but that’s my brother. I don’t want to know about his sex life.”

“No, it wasn’t like that,” Alex said.

“It was a set-up,” Damián said. He explained it so calmly to Eve as if he hadn’t backed himself up in a corner like a scared animal when it was happening. “It was a prank. Neither of us knew what was happening. And now we’re in a bit of a revenge situation.”

Damián continued to explain their plot, detailing everything from the diner dates to the office party at the end of the month. Eve stared Alex down with a nasty glare. He shrunk in on himself. His feelings of guilt came back threefold. If Eve didn’t approve of the whole scheme, it had to be wrong.

She knew Damián better than he did. And fuck. That was heartbreaking on its own. He thought Damián was his own little thing. But now he had to share him with his sister. And she was already so much closer to him.

“You’re using a sex worker for your own personal gain?” Eve asked.

“No, it’s not like that,” Damián said. “This is what I do. I’m an escort. I do this every single week.”

“But it is kind of like using you, isn’t it?” Alex said.

Damián threw his hands in the air. There was a flash of annoyance that Alex had never seen before. “I can’t explain enough that this is my job. I pretend to be a partner for people. It’s just like if Eve got hired to do write a code for someone. Or if you, Alex, got asked to. I don’t know. Buy better candy for your office?”

“I do more than that.”

“Make an Excel sheet?”

“Yeah. That works.”

“So you see my point? It’s all a business transaction.”

He was talking directly to Alex which only made him feel worse. But he did see Damián’s point. He was just working.

“Yeah.”

“When you feel like you’re using me,” Damián went on, “it feels like you’re pitying me and my career.”

“Oh.”

Alex supposed he understood now. When Damián put it like that, he saw it how Damián saw it. But it also felt like Damián was implying Alex was strictly a client, and it was all strictly work. Not that Alex should have let himself believe that they were ever going to be anything more.

“And I have autonomy. You’re not forcing me to do this. I take the jobs I want, and I hang out with the people I want to hang out with.”

“No one wants to hang with Alex, though,” Eve said. “He hasn’t gone out in years.”

“I like hanging out with him,” Damián said. “And excuse you, little miss, you were home alone on a Friday night listening to Night Vale. Don’t throw stones.”

Eve crossed her arms over her chest. “I was also reading.”

Smugness swelled in Alex. Finally. Someone took his side. Years of little Eve getting away with everything had come to an end. And did Damián say he liked hanging out with Alex?

His emotions were all over the place. He couldn’t handle it. He had never felt such a rush before. He wished Damián would touch his elbow again.

“All I’m saying is, I do what I want to do,” Damián said.

“Okay,” Alex said.

“And right now, I really want to watch Pretty Women.”

“We can find Pretty Woman. But I did promise you I’d make you dinner.”

Damián waved his hand. “You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine. Let me see what we have.”

Damián’s fingernails scraped against his jeans. “Only if you want to.”

“Wow, the table turned quickly, didn’t they?” Alex said. “I also do what I want.”

Alex didn’t. He did what his anxiety told him to do. Or not do.

Damián turned his head away. He looked forward at the television’s blank screen. “You’re stubborn, aren’t you? I should have known you and Eve were related.”

It would also make Alex feel better if Damián ate just for the sake of eating something. He would feel better if Damián got a little bit of color to his cheeks and stopped his shivering that had persisted. And if Damián needed to be coaxed into eating after a rough week, then Alex would be honored to be the one to do it.

He would feel better if he could make Damián dinner as a sort of apology. He was itching to do something that could prove he was a good potential friend and that he valued the time they were spending together. That even if it was just a job for Damián, Alex still appreciated all the effort Damián was putting into it. Making him dinner at home felt almost embarrassingly intimate, but Alex was going to allow himself to do it.

#Nobody Ends Up Dead in a Bathtub Everyone Keeps Their Organs #Nobody Ends Up Dead #writeblr #writblr #original writing #writing community #this chapter is special to me only bc of the welcome to night vale references

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missmungoe · 2 years

Note

🌹if you’re still doing these, some Makino and Red Haired Pirates fluff? 🥹👉👈I really liked your Tethered to Kinder Shores

(I still have a few of these left in my inbox, so have a snippet from an upcoming one-shot, because their fondness for dramatic cloaks is still one of my favourite things about the Red-Hair Pirates)

The world had changed in the ten years he was gone, but then the sea was never static, although it said something about the habits of humans that when it came to their preference in clothes, few things had changed, aside from the fact that he preferred his shirt rakishly untucked now and his pants more boldly patterned (a topic of much debate, both among his crew, his wife, her village, the Grand Line tabloids, and if the rumours were to be believed, the navy brass).

But controversial pants aside, ten years later, the black cloak was still a staple of his wardrobe the same way Makino’s kerchiefs were of hers. It was practically his trademark, at least now that his straw hat was no longer attributed to him, but there were worse things to be recognised for, and as far as cloaks went, his crew was known for having something of a predilection. And while by no means a dress code requirement, there was a sense of camaraderie in it, but then few things bound a crew as tightly as questionable fashion choices.

Well, there was one other thing, at least where his crew was concerned.

“What’s this?”

Shanks watched her consider the parcel sitting on the counter, which hadn’t been there when she’d left to grab another bottle of rum from the storeroom earlier.

Their grins were doing a truly terrible job of concealing their excitement. Shanks had half a mind to remind them that the gift was from him, not all of them.

From his seat at the bar, “Just something I got while I was away,” he said, his grin helpless at her curiosity, worn openly across her face.

“It’s for me?”

He nudged it towards her, and saw her wide eyes darting from the parcel to his. “Open it.”

Putting down the bottle of rum, she came up to where he was sitting, the slight furrow of her brow betraying a twinge of wariness that was probably deserved, as she reached for the silk paper wrapping.

Feeling the soft contents, “Did you get me something to wear?” Makino asked, delighted, although her grin was sheepish as she shot him a cheeky, “I hope it fits,” with a pointed glance at the baby bump protruding from under her apron.

“Well I didn’t know you were pregnant when I got it,” Shanks said. His eyes danced. “But I don’t think that should be a problem.”

New intrigue brightened her eyes, and a decade might have passed, but Shanks didn’t think he’d ever grow tired of how easy she was to delight, which made it entirely too tempting to keep giving her things. But then as far as gifts went, she could have asked him for the horizon and he would have looked for a way to bring it to her.

Her curiosity barely contained now, they all watched as she pulled away the wrappings, his whole crew leaning out of their seats, at least those who hadn’t abandoned all attempts at subtlety, and who’d gathered around the counter to watch her.

Makino was too enraptured to notice their hovering, her full attention stolen by the gift, but lifting away the last of the silk paper, she stilled.

She’d told him once that she’d developed a fondness for adornments at a young age, courtesy of a painfully frugal mother whose only accessory had been a near-permanent frown, and who’d refused to indulge her daughter’s notions of frippery. That’s where the kerchiefs had come from, she’d explained; a little girl’s gentle rebellion against painful practicality. Something that was meant to be useful, holding back her hair, but she’d worked around their purpose by including bright colours and bold patterns, and embroidering the edges with lace and seed pearls.

You know what you sound like? he’d asked her, touching the kerchief she’d been wearing, the simple slip of fabric embroidered with her own hand. And while not a black flag flying in the face of a corrupt government, the gentle defiance in the face of convention was a core feature of their creed, to which his tender grin had declared her a member, even before he’d named her,

A pirate.

She’d laughed, predictably flustered, but the story had stayed with him, across the years and the Grand Line, until one day, they were visiting a certain island for the purpose of replenishing their resin supply for the ship coating.

And it wasn’t a pretty kerchief, or any conventional trinket a captain might gift his new wife, but then their marriage was anything but conventional.

Withdrawing the cloak from the silk paper, Shanks saw how her hands shook as she held it up, her doe-brown eyes as wide as he’d ever seen them, and her expressive features baring all her feelings.

No one spoke, the complete quiet within her bar pronounced as his whole crew watched her, rapt. From his seat a barstool down from Shanks’, even Ben had abandoned all pretence, leaning closer to get a better look.

Lifting her eyes from the cloak, her smile trembled over her soft mouth as Makino asked him thickly, “Is this some kind of official initiation into your crew?”

His smile tilted, soft and hers. “You are one of us,” Shanks said, although his look named her more still, but then he’d chosen a mantle to suit her post. “Figured it was about time you dressed the part.”

Her wavering grin split her cheeks, before she held the cloak out to him, a silent request in the offering that he obliged, sliding from his barstool as she turned, drawing her braid over her shoulder.

And this would have been easier with two hands, but lifting the cloak, Shanks placed it over her shoulders, the supple velvet draping across the slender line perfectly, the colour a brilliant sea-green, coaxing out the sea glass in her hair. Unlike his own, it was a short cloak, the hem just brushing the tops of her hips.

Turning back towards him, Makino tilted her head gently, and holding her eyes, he reached to close the delicate silver clasps, the cloak’s high collar snug around her slender throat.

A crooked knuckle tipped her chin tenderly, grazing the soft skin of her jaw as Shanks murmured, “Perfect fit.”

His gaze released hers, taking her in where she stood, tiny and adorable, and endearingly oblivious to just how much influence she commanded over one of the most notorious pirate crews in the world, all of whom had abandoned their seats to get a better look at her, crowding around the two of them now.

“You look like you’re properly part of our crew now, Makino!” Limejuice approved.

Monstar’s chitters agreed, as Bonk Punch grinned and said, “Now all that’s missing is a wanted poster.”

“And a mid-life crisis,” Ben deadpanned, although the grin jutting around his toothpick agreed, as he told her, with a gentleness he reserved for no one else, “It becomes you.”

Grinning, Lucky Roo concurred, “You look beautiful, Makino!”

“Regal,” Hongou said, to murmurs of agreement from both Gab and Snake.

Her goofy grin was adorable, but, “Alright,” Shanks said, shouldering them out of the way as he put himself in front of her. Makino blinked. “As much as I agree with the general consensus, you’re kind of encroaching on my gift.”

“Your gift?” someone asked, with surprising affront, only for Shanks to find the sentiment reflected across all their faces. “What happened to our gift?”

“Yeah! For our girl!”

“My girl,” Shanks said, only to be met with disbelieving looks.

“Next you’ll be claiming it’s not ‘our’ baby!”

“Because it’s my baby!”

“Oh sure. All of a sudden it’s ‘your’ baby, and ‘your’ barmaid. What, is it ‘your’ ship, too?”

Shanks stared at them. Then blurted, “Yes!”

A beat passed, before he was unceremoniously sidestepped, as they all flocked around her. “But anyway, Makino! What do you think?”

“We thought the colour would look great on you!”

“And the velvet is so soft!”

“And it’s real silver thread, not the cheap kind!”

“We wanted to go for more expensive claps, something with diamonds―”

“Or emeralds!”

“―but Boss insisted you’d prefer the silver ones, and so we let him have his way.”

“I’m sorry, ‘let me’?” Shanks asked, only to be ignored as more voices chimed in, laying claim to various aspects of her gift, which was now apparently a collective project.

The gentle touch to his arm dragged his eyes down to Makino, her smile soft as she murmured, her voice pitched for him alone, “Thank you.”

Kissing the parting of her hair, Shanks touched his forehead to hers, smiling as his hand lifted to tuck her hair back into her kerchief. “Do you like it?”

Her grin would have answered for her, but lifting up on her toes to kiss him, “I love it,” Makino said, before sinking back on her heels, touching her brow to his chest as he cupped the back of her neck, his lips pressed to the crown of her head.

Drawing back to examine her cloak, “In terms of flair, I think this might top every cloak in your crew,” Makino said, her brown eyes brimming with delight as she brushed her hands over the hidden embroideries in the velvet.

“Did you forget Ben’s with the swirly pattern?” Yasopp asked, pointing to the culprit, even as he wasn’t currently wearing it.

Ben shrugged, and deadpanned, “It gives me an air of mystery.”

“The mystery being how an otherwise rational guy took a look at that fabric and thought ‘yes, I think I’ll go for the magician aesthetic’?”

Ben just grinned around his toothpick.

“You really shouldn’t be pointing fingers,” Shanks told Yasopp. “Doesn’t your favourite cloak have stars all over it?”

“And?” Yasopp asked, hands on his hips. “Are you saying I’m not a star, Boss?”

“A star-spangled idiot, maybe,” Shanks muttered, as Makino nudged him gently. Lifting his brows, he asked her, “What about me?”

Smiling, she reached up to touch the high collar of his cloak, her knuckles grazing his beard. “You’ve got flair, but it’s not the cloak; it’s how you wear it,” Makino said, as a small hand smoothed over the sable fabric where it draped from his left shoulder, hiding his missing arm.

“There is an art to it,” Shanks agreed, his look softening as he watched her gentle examination. “But if it’s panache you want, I could always impart some skills,” he said, before he grinned, and ducking his head to catch her eyes where they’d paused somewhere at the level of his pecs, “Did you get lost?”

The pink tinting her cheeks went well with her cloak, but then it wasn’t like he needed more incentive to make her blush. “No,” Makino said, prim. “I was just admiring your―”

“Panache?”

Pursing her lips didn’t manage to hold back her smile, but before she could counter with a comeback, “Boss!” a voice called, drawing their eyes to his crew. “Save the flirting for later!”

“Yeah, we’re trying to enjoy her reaction to our gift!”

Shanks fixed them with a warning look, but before he could protest the claim, “Let them have this,” Makino said, touching his arm gently, before lowering her voice to murmur, “and I’ll model it for you in private later.”

His grin told her he’d hold her to that. “Just the cloak and the stockings?”

The look through her lashes failed to be appropriately coy when she couldn’t stifle her own grin, and his chuckle adored her as she averted her eyes from his.

“Oh, by the way,” Shanks said, reaching for the cloak, his brows lifting conspiratorially. “It has slits.” Slipping his fingers through one, he took her hand, so small it was swallowed by his, before he drew her arm through the slit, and grinned when she made a noise of delight.

His crew had fallen silent, distracted as they watched her slipping her other arm through the second slit.

“In case you want to wear it while you work,” he said, although kept himself from adding that having her arms free would be practical if she ever did come out to sea with them, his gaze lowering to her pregnant belly, glimpsed through the front of the cloak. As much as he would have loved to spirit her away, it wasn’t so simple, even as he couldn’t help but wonder if she would have defied that, had she been given the chance.

Touching her chin had her eyes lifting from the cloak, his smile crooking as he told her roughly, “It suits you.”

There was only one thing missing, but the sword would have to wait, he decided, although had no trouble picturing it, the slender hilt in her hands, and the unsheathing song.

“I still can’t believe you got me this,” Makino said, turning as she examined it. A gently pointed glance at Shanks had him lifting his brows, as she asked him, “Do I want to know what it cost?”

If it hadn’t been a personal favour, he suspected the answer was something along the lines of his ship, and grinning, he chirped, “Probably not.”

She huffed, but it didn’t diminish her joy, as lifting her arms, she spun around, the short cloak flaring with the graceful movement. The late sunlight caught in the hidden embroideries in the velvet, sending the pattern dancing, like waves wrapping around her.

And watching her, there was no denying what she was. Theirs, although the word that came to his mind was another, but then in that moment, she looked like an Empress.

“Well?” Makino asked, with a beaming smile, lifting her eyes to his crew where they stood surrounding her. “Am I finally a proper pir―”

She stopped, and Shanks wondered if she’d expected roaring applause, because she blinked in surprise when what she got was something else entirely, noting instead their glassy eyes, all fixed on her where she stood in the centre of the crowd, their heart and anchor, and the sea drawn around her in silver and velvet.

But then the fact that they had nothing to say said more than anything else.

#Shanks x Makino #Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Akagami no Kaizoku #One Piece #Red-Haired Shanks #One Piece Makino #Shanks/Makino #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Red-Haired Pirates #fluff #fanfic #fanfiction #mungoe writes #otp: sing me sea shanties

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dreamy625 · 2 years

Text

This rockstar life - 3.3 Birds of a feather

Words: 1458

Content: There’s some casual drinking in this one

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

Jess orders two straight vodkas and two vodka tonics. She downs her shot the minute the glass hits the bar and motions Alice to do the same.

“Come on, I’ve only got two hours before I have to be back for the babysitter.”

Alice screws up her nose but does as she’s told, while Jess scouts out a table.

The minute they sit down Jess demands “Right, enough of the polite small talk, tell me about your man! How’s it going? Are you desperately in love?”

Alice puts both hands over her face, from behind which comes an ‘eeeeeeeeee’ noise.

“So, that’s a yes then?”

Alice lowers her hands until just her eyes are showing and nods vigorously. “Yes, so very much yes. It’s… oh god…” She flaps her hands, fanning her face, “I’ve never… loved anyone with such… abandonment… before. It’s kind of scary.” Noticing her cousin’s smirk and raised eyebrows she adds, “Oh I don’t mean… you know… well, maybe a bit… no I mean… without restraint. Oh god, that sounds dirty too!”

Jess is still grinning, quite enjoying Alice’s flustered attempts to avoid double entendres.

“I mean not being careful with it, not hiding what I feel, not playing any of those stupid games. Feeling all the feelings. You know that cliche ‘he has my whole heart’? Well he does, pathetic shrivelled thing that it is. I just… tied a bow round it and pushed it into his hands. Basically on our first date. It’s ridiculous. I’m ridiculous.”

“No, you’re happy.”

Alice smiles down at the table “I am happy. I’m… dizzy with it. But not crazy like I used to get. Dizzy but… tethered.”

“And does this heart-stealing boy feel the same about you?”

“I hope so. I think so. Maybe not so… dippy… as me, but he seems really… certain. He was pretty fast-forward from the start, no hesitation, even when I was still cautious. He gave me his house keys on our third date, and said he loved me on the fourth.”

“That is quite full-on.”

“Well, all of those dates were two or three days long, so it probably counts as a couple of months in normal romance land.”

Jess doesn’t look entirely convinced, and when she says ‘and now you live together’ it is almost a question (even though obviously, having initiated this get-together with a letter sent to the newly-shared home, she knows it to be true).

“Yup. I guess… six weeks? Officially. But really I went for the weekend after Christmas and never left, so it seems like longer.”

“Well I suppose it’s good that you’ve got something stable.”

Alice gives a wry smile, “Oh we’re very unstable. Individually and as a pair! But it feels… strangely safe. I trust him with my heart.”

“Very poetic.”

“I am a poet.”

“But do you really know him well enough, for that trust? In such a short amount of time?”

“I hope so. The way we started… in the hospital… I heard all the bad stuff right off.” Jess is leaning in looking extremely curious, but Alice knows those are not her secrets to tell. “If there was something worse that he was hiding from me, it would have to be that he killed someone! But I’ve seen all the good stuff too. He’s so gentle and funny and sweet, but not, like, too sweet. Not soppy.”

“Sticky sweet?”

Alice gives her A Look.

“What? I’ve been playing the album.”

“ANYWAY, he’s lovely and thoughtful and nice to me and so amazingly talented…”

“And cute?”

“SO cute!”

“And good in bed?”

Alice opens her mouth to reply and then catches herself and clamps her lips together. “Cheeky cow! I’m not telling you that!”

“You don’t need to, you’ve gone the same colour as that ketchup bottle!”

Alice puts her hands back over her face. “Stop cackling! People are looking at us.”

“So do you have pictures?”

“You know what he looks like, he’s in all those magazines.”

“Those are rockstar pictures, I want boyfriend pictures.”

“I’ve got some in my wallet.” She reaches for her bag.

“Are any of them naked?”

“Ew! No! Jesus. You’re such a nice girl and then you get one drink inside you…”

“Two.” corrects Jess, draining her glass and pointing questioningly in the direction of the bar.

“Sure, I’ll get them.”

When Alice gets back to the table, she takes a couple of photos out of her wallet.

“Now I’m only showing you these if you promise not to go all Dorien Green* again?”

Jess adopts a demure and innocent pose, so Alice passes over the pictures. One is Steve sitting on the bed in a bathrobe, absorbed in playing his guitar; the other is mostly just his face, smiling and squinting slightly at the smoke wafting from a cigarette held just out of shot. When Alice pictures Steve in her head, that is how he always appears - grinning and wreathed in smoke.

“He’s alright I suppose.”

“He’s beautiful. Give him back.”

She strokes the photo as she puts it back behind the plastic window. Jess shakes her head, but her expression is kinder than the gesture might suggest.

“So, fess up, did my mum tell you to come check up on me?”

Jess laughs “No, but my mum will actually combust with nosiness if I don’t tell her some of it! Which she might then report back to your mum. So if you’d like me to omit some of the juicier details?”

“Leave out the dizzy thing… and the hospital… and the poetry, and definitely the ketchup. Actually can you just say I’m happy and with a nice man and no more mental than I was before? And say I looked really fat.”

“Sure. It’s gonna take me so long to explain what heavy metal is that she’ll be bored before I even get to your bit anyway.”

“Oh, leave that part out too. Just say musician or something. Oh I don’t know. I don’t care. Just say whatever you like. My mum’s met him anyway. Or at least, cried at him while he stole her wayward and ungrateful daughter away from her. So the whole long hair and earrings thing isn’t going to be a shock to her.”

“Sounds like that was quite a scene?”

“It was pretty grim. Steve tried to be friendly but they were having none of it. Dad sulked. Mum wailed. The neighbours watched avidly like vultures. And I haven’t been back since. I miss Magda, but nothing else really.”

“You’re too old to live with your parents anyway. You’d go weird. Turn into one of those girls who knits and has gerbils.”

“Hey, I knit! No gerbils though.”

“Got out just in time. But seriously Ali, you are okay aren’t you? I know it’s romantic or whatever, but it has been really fast. And… I’ve been reading stuff… your sweet guy has some issues.”

“Don’t believe everything you read. Especially if it’s written by that arsehole from Kerrang. Of course he’s got problems, everyone’s got problems. But the music press make it out like he’s some… selfish hedonist, partying every night for the hell of it.” She does air quotes, “£1000 drink and drugs binge lands rocker in rehab” and rolls her eyes. “It’s not like that.”

“What is it like?”

Alice glances around warily, “He’s just… dealing with stuff… the best he can. Like all of us. I can’t really talk about it. Not here anyway.”

“It’s okay, I understand. I just worry about you… that you’ve been swept up in something that might be too much to handle…”

“Really, I’m fine. Don’t I look fine?”

“You look like Kensington Market* threw up on you, but sure, apart from that you look good. Are you eating?”

“Yes Mum.”

The mention of motherhood jolts Jess out of cousinly confidant mode and reminds her of her other responsibilities. She looks up at the clock over the bar, “Oh shit! I’m going to be late.That gum-chewing delinquent I left my firstborn with is going to want overtime.”

With a hurried hug and cries of ‘Love you’, ‘Love you best’, the two girls part, Jess dashing to the station and Alice walking back to Tube-less Chelsea and the house and person that have made it home.

(May 1990)

—-------------------

* Dorien Green is a character in the 90’s British sitcom ‘Birds of a feather’ who was an unashamed ‘cougar’

* Kensington Market was an old ramshackle shopping centre in London with small independent shops, in the 80’s and 90’s mostly catering to goths, punks, pagans, and other ‘alternative’ cultures. If you wanted a corset, blue hair, or a piece of metal poked through any part of your anatomy, you could get it at Kensington Market

#Steve Clark #steve clark fanfic #steve clark fanfiction #def leppard fanfic #def leppard fanfiction #This rockstar life fic

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a-lil-perspective · 3 years

Text

You like having breakfast with Crosshair.

He rises before you to prepare it, the waft of delicacies surging to meet you the moment you rouse. He’s been up for awhile; if the cold, undisturbed bedding on his side is any indicator.

You pad down the stairs to the kitchen, biting down a stray shiver as you lean against the doorframe to admire the sight; your lean, shirtless sniper working fastidiously at the stove in nothing but lowly tethered sweatpants.

You study Crosshair, because your entire relationship with him demands scrupulousness, and he moves with the knowledge of your presence, whipping up eggs with a bit more dedication than previously.

He says nothing, waiting for you to make the first move.

And it’s a predictable one, in which you traipse up and plaster yourself to his warm back, taut muscles flexing briefly at the contact before relaxing into your embrace. Your hands wrap around his midsection, and he takes a measured step back from the hot stove so as to remove you from the proximity. He is safety and security in its most prolific form.

You press an open-mouthed kiss between his shoulder blades. “Ram’ser.”

“Mornin’, sweetheart.”

His voice confesses residual sleep, meeting your ears with a hard rasp while you’re soft and dreamy behind him.

You turn your head so that his warmth sears into your cheek. “Smell so good.”

“Me or the bacon?”

A sleepy giggle bubbles up in your throat. “Both.”

Crosshair shifts then, stretching to the cupboard off to your left and producing two mugs. He recognizes, you need your morning pick-me-up something bad.

The gentle clink has you perking just slightly, giving way to delirious sentiment.

“You’re the best,” you purr.

He basks in it anyway. “I know.”

He removes the pan from the burner and switches it off, because he’s methodical and deliberate—and considerate—before turning and giving you his undivided attention.

He meets you full on in a sensual kiss, the taste of mint on his tongue and the smell of aftershave on his chin, because Crosshair prefers to clean up before meeting you like this, where he’s pulling you close and swallowing you whole in the saccharine hours of the morning. You kiss him boldly, because he doesn’t care about your morning breath or your mussed hair or rumpled clothes. He finds solace in your presence in and of itself, to have such a soul fare alongside his makes him feel not quite so alone in this universe.

And so he quite literally places breakfast on the back burner to kiss you for one sweet, cosmic moment.

But he recognizes the sleep still thick on your tongue, fueling your languid movements, and so he doesn’t indulge you for long. You need to eat and drink first and foremost, and he tells you as much.

“Rude,” you offer petulantly, though you know it to be furthest from the truth.

Crosshair always takes care of you.

He scoops you up and your heart soars at the contact. His ‘rudeness’ carries you to the table where he stands you carefully before pulling out the chair for you to sit, to which you eagerly oblige.

All the better to watch him work.

You plant your elbows on the table and rest your chin in your hand, merely a floppy sleeve of sweatshirt as you take to ogling at him from across the way.

“Like what you see?”

“Mhm. Those pancakes are calling my name.”

Crosshair has only recently discovered his affinity for cooking; he’s learning a lot about himself in the absence of his brothers, which paves the way for a constant confusion (and more piquant dishes, now that Hunter is not present to whine over the flavor).

Cooking is one of those oddities that met Crosshair softly; he can make basic dishes and he’s content with the fact. It’s just you and him these days; there aren’t any other mouths to feed.

Without burying the lede: he’s finding ways to apply himself in this new transition, anything to feel like himself again; find himself.

It warms your chest to see his progress.

It warms his knowing you can.

He prepares you a platter first, a lavish spread of eggs and bacon and pancakes, an array of sticky syrups and jams on the side to indulge your every inclination; the pinnacle of a perfect breakfast.

Settled in your seat, the static of slumber washes over you heavily, and you must’ve dozed off because your eyes flutter open suddenly to warm lips pressing to your temple, a steamy mug of caf placed before you.

“Thank you,” you hum, lacing your fingers around the mug with all immediacy.

His fingers are a brushstroke of tenderness on your cheek.

You take a cautious sip and your chest is warm, both from the laving of Crosshair’s affection, and the caffeine producing the lucidity to appreciate it.

He situates you with your meal but he doesn’t indulge himself right away, taking to dicing up various fruits as an afterthought.

Waiting patiently for him as you do, he has to gently prompt you to “Eat.”

And you do, but not without watching as he takes to consuming more fruit than he procures, the stockpile of the bowl seemingly at an impasse.

“There’s not gonna be any left at that rate,” you tease through a fluffy mouthful of eggs.

Crosshair turns to you with a glint of humor, his eyes never leaving yours as he flicks a cubed jogan up with deft fingers before tipping his head back and catching it in his mouth.

“But if you’re gonna be that hot about it, please, by all means.”

Crosshair’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine. You watch as his whole chest shakes.

“I aim to please,” he concedes, and you bat your lashes as he approaches with the bowl, a piece of fruit captured between his teeth that he smoothly transfers over to you. Your lips just barely graze his as you take the fruit in your mouth with a giggle. You bite down and are met with a zealous burst of flavor that has you moaning in surprise, and him simpering as he kisses the spurt of juices gushing past your lips. He takes care to suck up a spot under your chin that has you shuddering with a distinct buzz of pleasure before he finally takes a seat across from you.

“Good girl. Took it so well.”

You scoff, swiping at your sticky chin. “Got it all over my shirt.”

“My shirt.”

“That you love on me.”

“Mmm,” he leans back in his chair. “Can’t argue with that.”

“Because you love me.”

He quiets. “That’s right, cyar’ika.”

His smile is soft and open, like the sun spilling in from every window, allowing natural luminesce to reveal a look so achingly young on his war-torn face. For a moment, you can almost fool yourself into thinking he’s been groomed for domesticity, not war.

Maybe one day, the former will rectify the latter.

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uwuwriting · 3 years

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Boyfriend w/ Megumi, Itadori and Gojo

Request: hii I just read your jujutsu nightmares piece and oh my god I am indeed a very simple simp and your writing just makes my heart go uwu so may I maybe req a very soft, fluffy s/o for Megumi, Itadori Sato and maybe Sukuna if you write for him? I hope it's not too much, thank uu <3 - anonymous

I can’t get enough of the JJK content, I love them so much my heart can’t take it. Sadly I don’t write for Sukuna *I think I mention it in my rules but I’m not sure*, he pissed me off big time in the manga so yeah sorry about that. Really all the curses have kinda pissed me off but that’s a story for another day lmao. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist II rules

warnings: boyfriend things lol, fluff, maybe some angst sprinkled on top but not a lot.

Fushiguro Megumi

-Megumi reminds me of Suna from Haikyuu.

-Like a lot.

-He will put effort in the relationship of course but he won’t flaunt it around in everybody’s faces.

-Yes he has a s/o and yes he is in love but in his book that should be mostly kept in between you two, no one else has to know.

-So at first your relationship isn’t really acknowledged by the others.

-It’s so subtle at casual that everyone around you thinks that you’re merely best friends and close to each other.

-Only Makki knows that you two are a thing since she sees how you worry and take care of him after he has been injured.

-It’s different from platonic concern and she knows what’s going on.

-Plus she saw you steal a kiss one time and that sealed the deal.

-Eventually the others figure it out and they are losing their shit, for completely different reasons though.

-Nobara can’t believe Megumi got a s/o before she did.

-Gojo is hurt because neither of you said anything and he has been trying to hook you up for the past two years now.

-Itadori is just confused because he thought that you were like that to everyone.

-Now PDA is non-existent with this one.

-He doesn’t feel comfortable touching you in public even if it’s a small peck.

-He prefers showing his love behind closed doors or through acts of service.

-So expect to find multiple bentos waiting for you in the kitchen each morning or a hot bath on the ready when you come back from a long mission.

-You are okay with the no PDA rule, your only request is that he at least hold your pinkie when you need it.

-It grounds you and who is he to say no to that?

-During missions he doesn’t underestimate your strength and let’s you do your thing.

-He only interferes when you ask for help or when he notices that you’re extremely overwhelmed.

-He doesn’t smother you and you are eternally grateful for that.

-Training sessions between the both of you are brutal.

-Neither holds back and you're left a panting, sweating mess at the end, crawling to your respective rooms to change before you settle for a movie later that afternoon.

-If either of you gets injured it’s mama bear time.

-You need to change your bandages? Megumi has already taken out the kit and all the essentials.

-He needs to take some meds to calm the pain in his ribcage? You have the pills in hand.

-He is a shy boy so even in private he hesitates to touch you.

-Don’t get him wrong he loves holding you and feeling you close to him but he is also afraid he will make you uncomfortable or overstep.

-So you will be the one initiating cuddle session during the first months of your relationship.

-After a while he will simply pick you up and carry you to his bed for cuddles if he needs them without uttering a word the whole time.

-Good morning/Goodnight kisses are a must.

-It’s a ground rule that he follows religiously since day one.

-It doesn’t matter if it’s a simple peck on his lips or a passionate kiss, he just wants to get a kiss before starting/ending the day.

-Sleeps on his stomach with an arm always draped over your waist.

-Isn’t really into the whole sleeping on each other thing but he won’t say no to being the big spoon or even better the little spoon.

-He gets flustered when you kiss his knuckles or trace patterns on his palms.

-He knows his hands are rough from all the training but after your touch they feel tender and gentle.

-Prefers indoor dates rather than outdoor ones.

-His favorite is cooking dinner together and then cuddling on the couch *in hopes you won’t get interrupted by Gojo*.

-The only thing he dislikes about the whole relationship thing is the teasing he receives from Gojo.

-He is ready to rip his ears off.

-Boy has murder on his mind 24/7 and it is all directed to his mentor.

-Gojo noticed that Megumi had you as his wallpaper ONCE and now it’s game over for your boyfriend.

-The thing is that you don’t get teased as much and he is *salty*.

Itadori Yuuji

-He is such a lovable boy, how could you NOT fall in love with him?

-Your relationship is naturally effortless.

-Everything flows so naturally and without even trying you two have formed such an unbreakable bond that not even Sukuna himself can tether even if he tried.

-Many MANY spontaneous trips to the nearest convenience store at 3 am.

-Oh you are craving some popcorn? Well go on, get your shoes, we are going grocery shopping.

-Won’t hesitate to do anything for you and when I say anything I mean it.

-He ditched Gojo once because you had bad period pains and said you needed cuddles.

-What cruel creature would he be if he denied his beautiful girlfriend her cuddles???

-Sukuna has cockblocked you two and has ruined your cuddles on multiple occasions.

-From weird noises to rude comments to interrupting Yuuji’s thoughts with random shit.

-Real party crasher.

-Yuuji’s love language is touch mainly so expect a shit load of hugs and kisses.

-Won’t let go of your hand while you are out in public.

-If he can’t hold your hand he will place his palm in the small of your back or wrap his arm around your shoulders/waist.

-It’s a physical need.

-He has to be touching you at all times because that reminds him that you are truly here beside him and that you are okay.

-The sorcerer's life has already taken a toll on his mentality and he hates leaving you alone so most of the time you go on conjoined missions.

-Unlike Megumi he tries to protect you during fights by all means.

-He doesn’t do it because he sees you as weak and in need of protection it’s just an instinct that he can’t control at all.

-He will put himself in immense danger, taking all the blows just so you can leave the scene unscathed.

-You have scolded him on his complete disregard of his own life and the tears that pooled in his eyes as he explained that his body moves on its own when he sees anything darting towards you, breaks your heart.

-If you kiss the little marks under his eyes all his worries fly out the nearest window.

-He forgets about everything around him, about the looming threat of his imminent execution, the only thing on his mind are your lips on his cheekbones and your thumbs rubbing circles on his cheeks.

-If you pepper him in too many kisses he will begin his own assault by first tackling you to the floor or the bed and capturing you in a hug before the smooches begin.

-He has a tendency to leave hickies on your neck which you struggle to cover each morning and you are always real close to glaring at him when he beams like the sun itself at you in the morning but your mild anger fades the moment his lips meet yours.

-You have your suspicions that he knows what he is doing with that, he knows his kisses make you weak so he uses them to his advantage.

-Will never admit it but it always places a small smirk on his lips every time you clutch his shirt for balance or rest your forehead on his shoulder to regain your composure.

-An I love you a day is required for good vibes.

-Won’t hesitate to shout it even in front of others, he just has no filter and no shame.

-Makes you turn tomato red and he snickers.

-Fuck him, literally.

Gojo Satoru

-This fucking tease.

-He has no chill!!!!!!

-How are you with him?!?!?!?!!

-My man fine af and he drinks his respect for y/n and y/n alone juice every morning.

-That doesn’t mean though he won’t try to fluster you throughout the day.

-It’s his main goal really.

-Full blown make out sessions in the hallways of the school, ass smacks in front of others and trying to leave hickies on your neck during your lunch break.

-It simultaneously pisses you off and turns you on so you can’t decide if you should smack him or jump his bones.

-It’s a never ending debate and his chances of getting the quawk quawk 5000 are 50/50.

-He respects your boundaries when you give him a sign that you really don’t want him to be like that on certain days.

-He is a very observant individual in general so it’s not hard for him to take note of the signs of pure discomfort or awkwardness.

-True he loves flustering you but the moment things get out of hand and you don’t feel okay with how he is acting, he is throwing his attitude out the window and becomes respectful Gojo in a flash.

-Likes having his arm draped over your shoulder.

-He is super tall so chances are he towers over you.

-He has used you like an armrest several times which resulted to a trip to Shoko for a dislocated wrist/shoulder.

-You make him bentos almost everyday and he waits for them like a lost puppy.

-No matter the time, he doesn’t care if he is late, he will wait for you to make him a little bento to take with him.

-Curses can wait, he needs to receive his first dose of y/n love of the day.

-Brags to his student about you and to Nanami, much to the blonde’s dismay.

-Talks everyone’s ear off.

-He becomes super protective when an elder shows up or at the mere mention of them.

-He will grasp your hand, keeping a firm grip as those pretentious fucks stare down at you.

-They really don’t care about Sato’s happiness and they will never show you a fiber of respect despite being chosen by the strongest sorcerer.

-You are not part of one of the three clans so you are worth nothing in their eyes.

-Gojo hates them for that.

-Deep rooted hatred that could turn into a mass murder if one of them call you a distraction or a slut one more time.

-You are really grateful for him in those moments.

-You are grateful in general but during those times when you are being bombared left and right with rude comments, he will remind everyone in the room that he doesn’t give a flying fuck about what they believe.

-He fell in love with you because you are your beautiful self and not because you are a powerful sorcerer.

-He wants to imagine your kids as a sign of your love and not as an item of power, as a weapon like many of these people see him.

-He has ditched the elder meetings on many occasions just because he wasn’t in the mood of listening to their bullshit so he came home to you and spent the rest of his night cuddled up under the large comforter, watching a movie while peppering your shoulders with kisses.

-Adores seeing you in his clothes.

-They are so big on you that you wear them as dresses around the house.

-He especially loves the sight of your bare legs peeking from underneath his black t-shirt.

-99% of the time this ends up in you getting your guts rearranged.

-Surprisingly remembers all the important dates and he makes it to as many dates as he can.

-Being a sorcerer is difficult man, give him a break curses he has a date at 8 and he needs to get his formal glasses.

-All in all he loves you to the moon and back and would do anything to keep you safe and next to him.

TAG TEAM AY:

@the-arcana-fan-fic @angelwritings @axerrri @reinyrei @dnarez @storage11037 @ezoyscorner @letscheereachotheron @wolfkid22 @dark-thoughts-and-red-roses @threeamwriting @ysatrap @yashinosakura @angel6786

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blackresin75 · 3 years

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The Heart of My Sea

TW: Choking, virgin reader, rough sex, loving sex, bondage, nipple play, oral (fem receiving), and overstimulation.

A/N: Hey so this is my first fic like this so please tell me what you think. My roommate did help me out a LOT @violinwizard thank you so much. This is for the Mythology and Folklore collab so please check out the others here. I have the masterlist reposted.

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Dad always tried to control where you went. He wanted you to stay in his sight when you weren’t with the others luring sailors to their deaths. You’ve never wanted to kill but it was your only saving grace from your fathers grasp, but maybe that was what makes the Captain of the Midnight Rose so alluring.

The main crew looked to be about the same age as you and your friends, they also looked more content in their place on deck. Your feelings of jealousy grew more and more as each ship passed by and sank. Maybe that’s how you ended up in this position, stuck in a net blinded by jealousy and rage.

You feel the coarse net grind against your skin as you struggle to get free. The thrashing around causes the net to scrape up your arms and your tail. No matter how much you squirm, The coarse fibers don’t budge. You feel the water sink below you as you rise up. Panic starts to set in your chest as the light from the surface grows brighter.

“Shit, shit! No no no no fuck!” The ropes cut deep into your skin as your thrashing grows desperate, you feel the salt water flow around your body. You break the surface gasping frantically, thinking of all the stories of sirens before, kidnapped and left for dead. You've seen the aftermath, but you never dreamed it would happen to you.

Your breathing soothes but the panicky feeling in your chest doesn’t leave. You can hear gruff voices, but you can’t hear anything outside of the beating of your heart and the surge of the waves. The panic becomes so immense that by the time you’re set down on the mahogany deck you are already too far gone

When you wake up, all you can see is the shadow of a man on the far side of the deck. At first, his eyes are all you notice, deep and black as the ocean on a new moon night. There’s a scar running under the left one, giving him a dangerous and rugged appearance. He is dressed as many of the sailors you’ve taken to the deep, loose shirt with a deep cut, betraying a strip of an almost well defined chest. His tight pants leave nothing to the imagination, while his long coat makes you wish there was more to see. A scarf hangs around his neck, the end just dipping into the V of his shirt. “I wonder what he would look like in the ocean, all wet and mine for the taking.” The thought comes unbidden and you quickly scold yourself, a blush forming on your cheeks . Someone clears their throat, taking you out of your daydream and you look around at the rest of the crew. Their glares make you look away, and you quickly turn your eyes to the man in front of you. He walks towards you, taking off his trenchcoat and drapes it over your naked figure.

“I’m bringing her into my quarters, if you need anything.” .He stares daggers at the crew, while his hair flies up and eyes turn red, “Don’t.”

With that the roguishly handsome man picks you up and takes you to a cabin below deck. He lays you back on the mattress in the corner of the exquisite cabin, then he leans up against the desk in front of the neat bed. “So, you got a name?”

“Y/n,” you hesitate, “are you going to hurt me, sir?” His eyes go wide, his body stiffens a little, and he bites his lip. Bringing a strong callous hand up, he gently takes a piece of hair and tucks it behind your ear.

“You think I’m going to hurt you?” His whisper carries straight to your heart, the amount of care in his words sends a shiver through your spine. “Well, y/n, I’m Shota Aizawa, I own the Midnight Rose. I know you’re not human, so what the fuck are you exactly? We caught you in the sea, maybe a Kraken, or mermaid, or perhaps a siren.”

His voice gets lower and his face gets closer, you’ve sung songs to sailors that promise their dreams. A lot of sex, but there were a few of just pasta; those songs are your favorite. You can now see the allure of sex and love just by looking into this man’s tired eyes. Instead of answering him, you opt to stay quiet. “Not talking? That’s okay, kitten. I have ways to make you talk.”

Your face darkens even more at his words, why is calling you kitten? What are his ways to make you talk? The panic returns in full force, he sees the fear and panic on your face and he walks over to the bed and puts a loving arm around you. You freeze, and he decides to rub your back, “shhh, kitty, it's okay. I’ll protect you now. I want to know what you’ve been through.”

His gentle reassurance surprises you, it's not everyday that you see someone so handsome and gentle. Someone who doesn’t want to treat you like a toy, but maybe that’s what made you want him to treat you like a toy. Just to see if he still would want you after or throw you back to the sea violated.

“You didn't answer my question, are you going to hurt me, sir?” You lean in closer to Shota. The tension starts to thicken, with just five words.

“Do you want me too?” Shota looks at you differently, he wasn’t malicious or terrifying. He pulls you closer, looking into your eyes, his breath taking up your air. The different songs flew through your head but only one thing felt right.

“I want you.” You lean forward and kiss him with your entire soul. You’ve never felt this way before, and from what Aizawa was reciprocating, he feels it too. The kiss deepens and a heat starts to form in your pussy and gut. He groans into your mouth and he pulls you on top of him. Feeling his hard cock against your pussy sends a shock that jolts through your bones. He grabbed your arms and started kissing where the net cut into your skin.

“I’m sorry y/n, I did this to you. I’m so sorry.” He kisses you everywhere he can touch, soft, loving kisses. When he reaches your neck, it sends shivers down your back, and a moan bubbles up in return. The shivers soon travel to your stomach, where his hands are caressing in full circles, slowly heading upwards. You can feel the rough texture of the coat on your nipples driving the sensitivity to new heights. Suddenly he slips the coat from your shoulders, and you hear it hit the ground at the same time his hand finally hits the swell of your breast.

His lips leave your neck, a whimper escaping your throat at the loss, which is immediately followed by his moan as his mouth closes on the peak of your breast. You feel his tongue circle your nipple, caressing it slowly, and you are awash with heat, striking to a forbidden place in your core. His tongue is soft, and wet, giving you a pleasure never felt before. He grabs your backside possessively, pulling you impossibly closer, you moan, grasping his shoulders in an attempt to keep yourself afloat in the rushing tide that is him.

In your state, you barely manage to gasp out a “Don’t stop”, and you clutch harder as he slowly starts to suck on the breast he is tethered to, his tongue still making tortuous movement. One hand lightly caressing your other breast, his other starts to slowly head downwards, mapping your skin, which has started to gather sweat. He gently nudges your thighs apart and begins to descend further into uncharted territory. Before he can reach his destination, he pulls back and meets your eyes.

“Is this ok?” He asks. Frustration hits you at the loss of his ministrations, and you grab him by the scarf, pulling him back to you, “Please, keep going”. You feel his smirk before he begins, this time on the other breast. His hand continues in your depths, to circle around a single point that opens a floodgate. You grasp him tighter, your hand going into his hair in pure joy, as his fingers continue at the same pace, tracing a whole new alphabet on your center.

You want more pressure, you begin to move with him, trying to encourage him to go faster. “Kitten” he admonishes, his voice low, “Do you need more?” You can only moan in response. His hand is suddenly grasping the back of your neck, pulling you away from him, the breath leaves your throat, and you feel as if you're floating, pleasure filling the space of total awareness.

He laughs, “Cat got your tongue?” You want him, want more, you reach out blindly, catching his shirt in the process. You want it gone, you tug, and it floats down beside you. You see his smirk turn sinister.

“You shouldn’t have done that. Do you know what happens when the Kitten gets the cream before she’s meant to?” He slowly takes the scarf off his neck, and before you can comprehend that you can see the sweat coating his neck, he has lowered you to the bed, the scarf wrapping around your wrists, tying you to the bedpost. Panic rises inside you, before it bubbles over, he slowly kisses you, passionately bringing the softer feelings from earlier back into the game. It calms you, enough to notice both his hands have pressed your thighs back to their open stance, and he is moving down your body, his chest heaving. You feel his breath on your lower stomach, his tongue taking just enough time to dip into your belly button before working further down.

The heat is back, flooding your senses as you feel his breath on your thighs where his hand is, you feel his tongue, followed by his teeth, lightly nipping, moving towards the place you want him most. You want to tug him close, but you are restrained from above, you consider thrusting closer, before he is there. You feel his breath on the most intimate part of your body, sending shivers to your very soul, and ripping the part of you wanting to escape away. He sits there making you wait, before you finally feel his tongue on that same spot from earlier.

It is somehow both cold and hot at the same time, and impossibly wet, adding to the sensual feelings bubbling up from inside. The soft tongue is a stark contrast to the nails on both your thighs. With each swipe of his tongue you are brought to new heights. Just left to moan and writhe on the bed, with no hard body to soothe the shivers. Finally his lips close over the nerves, and your soul is drawn from you and into him, you can’t stop moaning, arching off the bed, your feet finding solace along his muscular back. Your thighs crushing the head between them. He groans out, possessively grasping your thighs to pull you closer to the torture that is his mouth. You feel something else on your folds, one of his fingers, gently prying the opening to your depths, which you have just realized is dripping liquid.

His finger sinks deep just as his tongue passes over the top of the nub, and you almost scream, your breath rising, your vision gaining spots. His finger is joined by another as they twist and scoop, scraping against a part of you that sends pure heat to your heart, and your heart to the heavens above. He keeps striking the place inside as his lips pull your very being into him. Once you take a breath, twice, you rise from the bed. Thrice, you are screaming. And then you are falling grasping at the headboard above. You have spots dancing in your eyes and a fire in your belly. As a tsunami of pleasure ripples through you, starting and ending with the man who is still milking you into him.

“Shota, p-p-please” You moan, as you ride out your intense first orgasm. The pleasure comes in waves as Shota cleans you the mess you made with his insatiable tongue. As you come down from your high, he comes up by you and he kisses you with hunger. He slowly pulls away from you, bringing both hands up to cup your beautiful face. One hand gently caresses your cheek and soothes your heated face. He let his thumb wander to your plump lips and let it drag down slowly to see your bottom teeth. With your mouth wide open, he brings his hand, still wet with your juices, to your open mouth.

“Clean, Kitten.” You stick your tongue out a little and lick a small amount of your essence off of him. Shota groans as you lick his fingers coated in your slick. You love the feeling of falling off the edge for him, the world melts as he takes his fingers away and kisses you with full force. He puts the fingers back into your sweet, sticky spot, pumping in and out, until you could feel the heat return. You let out a small whine, “‘s too much, sir.”

He takes his fingers out and you whine again, not wanting his fingers to leave your heat. He lets out a small chuckle, “Do you want me or not? I thought you wanted me, we’re not even close to being finished.”

You let out another whine as he places his fingers back in your pussy. This time he starts with two fingers and quickly slips in a third, stretching you out. He kept pumping you full, hitting the spongy part in you multiple times. He takes out his fingers, hitting your swollen clit on the way out. You feel so close to the edge again. Not wanting the pleasure to stop, you try to bring your hand down to give some much needed friction to your neglected area. The headboard clicks against the wall of the cabin, reminding you of the scarf that ties you up. You glance down and see Aizawa pumping his full, slightly curved, cock, dripping with precum. The engorged tip is a flushed pink, you watch as he mixes your essence with his pre. Satisfied with the prep work, he comes up and grabs your hips, coaxing your legs to wrap around him. He lines up his length with your pussy, and looks at your panicked face.

“Kitten? Are you okay with this? Have you done this before?” His questioning is endearing, you’ve haven’t had sex before, but you know a lot about it. With all of his ministrations on your body, you don’t want it to stop.

“No, but I don’t want you to stop.” You share a breath with Shota, both of you not wanting to break the silence. He looks at you lovingly and whispers a kiss over your mouth.

“Okay, I’ll try to be gentle, Kitten.” His kissing gives you reassurance. He lines his swollen cock to your folds and slowly lets himself into you. The pressure is painful at first and the pain slowly changes to pleasure. You look down to where you are joined and see that only his tip is in. How is that possible? Is he even going to fit? You feel so full already but there is still more? “Shhh, it’s okay Kitten,” he wipes away a stray tear from the pain, “You’re so beautiful.”

He slowly puts more of his large cock in you, pain makes you cry out and squeeze your eyes shut. He caresses your hair, petting you and giving you praise as you take his entire length. As he bottoms out in you, you let out a wail that would put the banshees to shame. You both wait for your tight cunt to adjust to his size. Your chest heaving as you tap on Shota’s shoulder signaling him to start moving.

“I need actual words, Kitten.” You gather your breath and whisper a small yes in his ear. With that small yes, Aizawa kisses you temple and starts to move in your heat. You feel his cock move at an antagonizing pace, and you need more.

“More, sir-” Aizawa growls in your ear, it is already so difficult for him not to lose control and he doesn’t want to hurt you. When you keep calling him sir, the difficulty increases. He picks up speed slowly, moans coming freely from your throat and tears from your eyes. Every now and then he kisses the tears from your eyes and sings your praises.

“My good kitten, doing exactly what I need.” He starts to go faster and harder. Words and moans mixing in your mouth bubbling up to the surface, coming out as much of a mess as your cunt. You feel a coil of heat rise in your stomach as the tip of his cock pounds relentlessly into your cervix. Something was different about this edge, no longer was it the tsunami of pleasure like you knew it. It’s like being sucked into a whirlpool that doesn’t end, the feeling growing larger and larger until you let go.

You hear Shota shouting, “Fuck, I’m cumming, Kitten,” He kisses your lips, as you fall back into the whirlpool of pleasure. You feel thick ropes of cum coat your fluttering walls, you let the whirlpool take you completely. A clear liquid coats both you and Shota as you let out another wail. He looks down at the mess and back to your face. You both let out a little laugh, and he pulls down the covers of his bed. He grabs a blanket from one of the wardrobes and drapes it over you. He clambers into the bed and pulls you close.

“You’re so beautiful. I think I’m falling for you.” He kisses you. You’ve never been the one to believe in love at first sight, but with him, how else could you explain it? You have totally fallen for him since you landed on his deck.

“Shota, I think I love you.” You whisper.

“I think I love you, too.” He kisses your nose lovingly.

“Even if I’m a siren?” He looks at you and brings you into a hug.

“You’re the Heart of my Sea, I will always love you, y/n.”

#bnharem collab #aizawa shouta #pirate #aizawa smut #aizawa x reader #bnha smut

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fancywrites · 2 years

Text

father paul hill x reader | dark content | tw: depression; self harm

it's how he finds you. muttering, leaned against the tile under the boiling hot shower. blistering your skin flush, but not as red as the streaks across your back that's turned to him are. as red as he can only imagine your front is as you rock unsteadily against the wall, arms jerking from whatever is happening out of his line of sight.

your name doesn't stir you, possibly lost under your soft frantic prayers that come between labored breaths. but the hand that rests on your shoulder perks your head up and turned towards him. your eyes are puffy yet dull, but look at him as if he's the light in the darkness. your savior. truly, he's this whole island's savior, but right now he's only yours.

you fully face him, and he feels a lump rise in his throat. it's so much worse than he thought, yet you seem to think it's the most important thing to do. pink-tinged dead skin is caked under your nails, carving between your ribcage; though the width of your torso is covered in the scratches as well, the small dip between the bone is the worst of it. the sight should make him blush, your ignorance at your nudity in front of him. instead he's left confused, heartbroken, sick. but it's about you. always about you first. so he acts as if he's not quite sure what he's looking at. which is, in a sense, true.

"what are you doing here, angel?" it's innocent, accusations free from his voice. your eyes flicker down to where he's staring at, between your breasts at the raw patch of skin. you seem timid, like the cat that stole the canary. barely look back at his face, let alone those dark dark eyes. you mumble, swallow, and try again.

"told me I could come here if I was ever in need, Father. I'm sorry if I took it wrong." He opens his mouth to correct you, to tell you that you hadn't taken that wrong. but you continue on. "I was in need, Father, truly. I couldn't feel anything, so I came and I prayed." your eyes finally met his, tears building once more, voice tight and frantic as he heard it when he first walked in.

"and He answered me, and I could feel again. but I felt everything, and I don't want it anymore." your breathing picked up. "I want it gone, Father. please make it go away. I want it out." your fingers started to pull at your skin once more, aching to pull out your heart, breath wild, repeated whispering how your heart ached, it needed to come out, you needed to feel empty again, how sorry you were.

asking him to rip it from your chest.

he catches you when your knees grow weak in what he can guess is at least your second attack for the night, moves with you onto the floor. larger hands guide your own to him in slow deliberate movements until they're holding onto his soaked shirt, nails still digging as if it's your skin, muscle memory and the ache to be anchored, tethered to something real outweigh each other. he'd rather it him than you, so he focuses on evening your breathing.

only when he knows you're through the worst of it does he carefully dry you off and place you on his bed. he leaves and returns with an old tube of antibiotic ointment. slowly and carefully, with a flushed look, he gently coats the raw and blistered skin.

he'd ask you to cover up, but is afraid of irritation or infection; he instead wraps one of his large cardigans around your shoulders, keeping you modest and comfortable. you're caged in his hold, calmed by his deliberate movements and overall presence. his grip, the scent from him and what lingers on the clothing on you, grounds you to him.

and he starts the serenity prayer. it's not just to 'know the difference'; he recites the full quote, something you never heard in completion, but it brings you to ease. so that I may be reasonably happy in this life, and supremely happy with you forever in the next.

slumped into his hold, hearing him whisper to you as his fingers ran through your hair. you could feel the emptiness trying to settle around your heart once more. this time, however, your beacon of light stays at your side to help guide you home. right where the both of you belong. reasonably happy might be a long road towards, but he was more than willing to help your journey there.

#father paul x reader #father paul hill x reader #dark fic #'tw' depression #'tw' harm #read at your own discretion please

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debiteful · 3 years

Text

Okay so this one is based on an anon request I got. A particular detail made me uncomfortable, but otherwise the concept was solid. If you want elaboration on my feelings on that, you can ask, but I don't wanna bog down the story with that ramble ^,....,^'

A wereboar discovers a human living beneath their floorboards. This person is in exile and being hunted; to make matters worse a very tough person is hunting this human. The good natured wereboar decides to help the human evade capture.

Content: soft, safe protection vore, panicking prey, willing human prey, boar-human hybrid pred, belly bulge, fearplay, threat/false claim of digestion, regurgitation, comfort afterward

Tuki walked up their front steps, feeling the familiar creak of boards beneath their feet. The bungalow stood alone in a woodland clearing, the perfect place for someone like Tuki to live. Isolated, yet close enough to civilization to get the supplies they needed.

Once inside they let their loaded sack fall to the floor. They knelt and began going through it, sorting the things within; food went to one side while fabric went to the other. Behind them, they heard a rustling noise. Very slowly they stopped rifling through the bag and listened. Their nose twitched and they snuffled curiously while slowly turning their head.

Something was scraping against a floorboard over there. Had to be big, a rat wouldn't sound like that. Maybe a raccoon? Looking around, Tuki could see one of the cabinet doors was open in the kitchen. That little thief!

The homeowner crept across the floor as quietly as they could. Unfortunately, stealth was not their strong suit. Their weight made the floorboards groan with every step.

The rustling went quiet. Tuki bent low and sniffed at the floorboards with little grunts. They had to be getting close. The scent of some creature wafted up; it didn't smell like racoon.

"Hey!" They called gruffly, "Get out here you vermin!"

A soft whimper and hasty scrabbling from below the floor was the only response. Tuki growled and leapt to their feet. In a flash they were out the door and scrambling under the cabin. Leaf litter and dirt kicked up as the creature tried to hurry away. Tuki crawled on their belly, moving arm over arm with surprising speed thanks to bulky muscles.

As the creature became silhouetted by the daylight on the far side of the cabin, its pursuer frowned. That almost looked like a person…

Tuki stopped and called, "Hey! I won't hurt you. Wait!"

It froze. They could see a head swivel and bob while it tried to get a look at them. They approached slowly.

The creature backed out from under the house, sunlight revealing its form. It was a human! Mud streaked their ashen face and twigs stuck from their unkempt hair at odd angles. They kept taking steps backwards, eyes trained on the crevice where Tuki would emerge.

By the time they were free to stand, the human was halfway to the tree line. They brushed themselves off and stood by the back of the house, "Hey! I said I wouldn't hurt you. You look like you could use some help. I- well I don't like that you stole some food, but you clearly need it. Come inside and I'll help you."

The frail person tilted their head one way, then the other. Big, dark eyes glittered as they considered the offer. They seemed human, but right now they reminded Tuki more of a yearling doe.

Tuki held out their hand, "Come here! I promise it'll be okay."

They blinked, then approached. Tuki let their arm fall and turned towards the front of the house. They didn't need to look back to sense that the bedraggled human was following a short distance behind.

Inside Tuki was able to heat some water so they could bathe. While they did, the host picked out some of their own clothes that might fit. An oversized shirt made a dress-length tunic for the human. Then they set to cooking up some warm food; they could tell it would do them good.

Over the meal, Tuki managed to gather that his name was Lark, and he was hiding from someone. He was vague about that, as if worried Tuki would change their mind about being so hospitable if they knew. Sensing the reluctance, they didn't press the matter.

After even this small bit of care, Lark was looking much better than he had been. His cheeks had a warm, healthy glow, and his hair was hanging in loose curls just above his shoulders. He looked a little silly in the large shirt, but at least it was soft and clean.

A loud knock at the door rang through the cabin. Lark jumped and spilled the soup he had been sipping from a bowl. His eyes were wide with alarm, and suddenly his whole body shook.

Tuki stood to answer the door but he darted over and grabbed at their arm. "No! Don't!" He hissed, looking up with pleading eyes.

They frowned down at him, "Why not?"

"They're here for me; they'll hurt me. You gotta hide me somewhere- somewhere they won't find me!"

Their frown deepened and they cast a worried glance around the simple dwelling. The only room besides the main area was their bed and bath room, but that didn't exactly have any hiding places. If he could get back under the floor, then maybe-

Another flurry of knocks rapped at the door. This time it was accompanied by a warning voice, "Whoever is in there, open up or I'll have to come in myself!"

Lark trembled and clung to Tuki's arm. His wordless plea was all across his face. Their face softened and they whispered, "Do you trust me?"

"I- what? I have to; if you have a plan, then do it!"

Tuki nodded and gently removed him from their arm. The human watched with a creeping dread as before his very eyes his host's shape shifted. Their face elongated, sharp tucks sprouting from between their lips. Their stubble lengthened and hair thinned, becoming thick bristles. Ears lengthened and flopped, and their form filled out their shirt better.

Beady black eyes full of concern gazed at Lark from that monstrous face. His host wasn't human; they were a were-boar!

He sucked in a shaky breath and fought the urge to turn and run. Filled with desperation, he knew flight was not an option.

He squeaked as their powerful hands grabbed his slight shoulders and lifted him. His feet reflexively kicked a little as they left the floor. Their jaws opened wide, saliva hanging in thick strands that trembled with their hot breath. The humid air washed over his face as he screwed his eyes shut. Terror pricked at his belly and sent his heart racing as he felt a slobbery tongue rise up to greet his face.

Their maw shut around his head and shoulders gently. Even if he wanted to cry out, he couldn't, smothered by wet flesh as they crammed his head down their throat. They swallowed; it was a sickening feeling to have those powerful muscles constrict around him.

He could hardly feel their hands grasp his hips now and heave him deeper in. His legs kicked wildly and he fought for air through the panic and slime. His whole body became completely enveloped in rippling muscle and coated in saliva as he slid downward.

Tuki wiped their mouth with the back of a hairy hand while the other slid down to support their swelling belly. They felt their gut stretch as their hastily gobbled prey slid down and was forced to curl. Their stomach walls were taut and smooth around Lark's quivering form. The bulge of their belly strained against their shirt, making it ride up a little. It wasn't very inconspicuous, but it would have to do.

They plodded over to the door just as whoever was outside turned the handle. The door swung inward to reveal the would-be intruder, a hulking man carrying a baton in one hand and clutching the short leash of a massive dog in the other. The beast snarled and snapped at Tuki, but they held their ground. The man looked surprised, but a snear took over, "There you are, you dumb brute! You couldn't hear me knocking?"

Armed and with that vicious dog, Tuki knew they couldn't fight. Especially stuffed full like this. They would have to talk their way through this. "I could," they said crossly, "but I was finishing my dinner when you so rudely interrupted."

"I have important business, more important than you stuffing your face, pig."

Tuki narrowed their eyes, "What is it then?"

"I'm on the trail of a dangerous fugitive who is an enemy of the state." At that Lark squirmed inside their belly nervously, but went still as the man continued, "I tracked him here, intending to apprehend him so he can be exiled permanently."

The dog was straining against its tether, sniffing with interest at the threshold. Its master didn't spare it a glance, stone-cold eyes fixed on Tuki and club raised menacingly. They replied, "Well I haven't come across anyone dangerous."

"He's a sly curr, might not seem dangerous. Have you seen any strangers around here? Heard anything odd?"

"Hmmmm," Tuki said, weighing their options. They scratched at their belly, drawing up the shirt to reveal the rounded bulge sagging over the waist of their pants. "There was this one little fella, big doe eyes. He stole some food from me," the anxious squirms started up again, making their protruding gut wiggle. "So I ate him instead!"

"You what?" The man snarled. Slowly his gaze drifted down to their taut stomach, and horror crept into his eyes at seeing it move. He looked back at Tuki with disgust, "You ate a man?"

"Hardly a man," they shrugged, "More of a vermin. I'm not too picky though," they said with a smirk.

Seemingly at a loss for words, he just gaped at the wereboars belly for a while. Then he looked past them, into the house, "I'm going to have a look around, just in case."

"You won't find much," Tuki gloated, patting their belly. A burp rumbled up and escaped loudly. The dog sniffed the air then bayed and reared up to investigate their snout. They laughed and the man dragged it away and into the house by its leash.

Tuki kept a wary eye on the two invaders while they leaned against the threshold. Lark still hadn't settled down, his body writhing within the flexible limits of the stomach. Little muffled grunts could barely be heard above the gurgling fluids shifting around him.

The dog barked with savage excitement as it found Lark's dirty clothes. The wash water had already been drained away, leaving little explanation. The man hooked the tattered clothes with a finger and brought them to Tuki, "Whats this? Is it yours?"

"No, you're welcome to it. I took those filthy rags off that human before I devoured him. I have some standards," they huffed.

The man eyed their still moving gut, "You ate him alive?"

"Of course! Killing is so messy, I don't like to do it in the house. Besides," they leaned in with a ghoulish grin, "I like to feel them squirm as I digest."

Lark flailed as best he could within the cramped confines, but the real reward was the brief widening of the intruder's eyes at that comment. He scowled, "Can't you spit him up? I have a job to do."

Offended, Tuki leaned back, "What? And waste a perfectly good meal? No, you were too slow. He's mine now. Besides, it's not like he's going anywhere. Just tell your master you did it; how're they gonna know any different?"

He considered, then trudged past the wereboar, hauling his dog along, "Fine. But if I get in trouble, don't think I won't send someone after your hide too!"

"I expect nothing less from a scoundrel like you."

He froze and clenched his cudgel. Tuki dearly hoped he wouldn't try to use it. Thankfully, that was the case, and he stomped off without another word.

Tuki shut the door and locked the bolt into place, just in case. They went over to their chair and sat down heavily. Their belly bumped against their legs as Lark continued to wriggle frantically. His whining could be heard by Tuki, and their heart lurched. The poor creature must be terrified. If only they had had more time to explain.

They got up and hurried to get a towel, then went to their bedroom and stood infront of the bed. They heaved, and with great effort Lark slid up and out of their stomach. He landed on the towel laid out to catch him and lay there shivering. Before he could scramble away, Tuki shifted back to their human form and bundled him up in the towel. He fought against the warm folds of cloth weakly before realizing he wasn't in danger. The wereboar sat on the bed and cradled the swaddled human in their lap, using a corner of the towel to wipe his face and hair.

He looked up with wide, tearful eyes, "You…." He couldn't find the words.

They hugged him tightly then gave an apologetic stare, "You're quite the mess, again. I didn't know what else to do. He would've found you if I hadn't-"

He cut them off, "I know. I know. It's just- the things you said, they were terrifying. Especially from, well, in there," his eyes flicked meaningfully to their belly.

They nodded and continued to clean him up carefully. He relaxed into their hold, inhaling the fresh air deeply.

Neither of them spoke. Both of their minds independently wandered to the same, simple question: what next? Neither of them had the answer right now.

#soft vore #safe vore #protection vore #digestion mention #reluctant prey #wereboar pred #anthro pred #human prey #belly bulge #bulging belly #similar size vore #same size vore #unintentional fearplay #panicking pred #regurgitation #hurt/comfort #debiteful writing

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raindownforme · 3 years

Text

Salt Water

Charlie Slimecicle x reader [she/her used]

CW: negative body image, self doubt, negative self image

(Yes this is self-indulgent comfort)

“This is easy.” y/n spoke out loud to no one but herself. She stared in the mirror, turning side to side. Today was the start of summer, and her and her friends had decided to go to the beach. She’d bought the perfect bathing suit for it, too. It was a pretty blue with a dinosaur pattern. It was also a bikini.

She felt comfortable in it. She wouldn’t have bought it otherwise. She felt comfortable when she bought. She felt comfortable when she planned the whole outfit. She felt comfortable when she made the plans. She didn’t feel comfortable now.

She thought she’d grown put of this. She was an adult goddamnit. y/n wasn’t the middle-schooler who got made fun of by her trash friends, or the high schooler who thought so negatively al the time. She was an adult who bought herself the cute dinosaur bathing suit. And by god she was going to wear it.

y/n sighed, stepping back from her mirror to sit on the edge of her bed. She could do this. She knew she could. It would just be so much easier if she could stop thinking for five seconds. It was the same incomprehensible thought over and over, an onslaught of negative thoughts towards herself and her figure. Reminders of every YouTube comment on her videos, in her friends’ twitch chats, in public posts.

Maybe she shouldn’t go?

“Hey, you ready?” Someone knocked on y/n’s door and startled her. She jumped up from the bed, throwing on a pair of shorts and a large plain shirt. She shouldered her tote of necessities, slipped on her flip-flops, and opened the door. Cooper stood slouched waiting for her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” y/n walked in front of him to the car waiting. Ted sat in the drivers seat, shuffling through his playlist. Jawsh sat in the passenger seat next to him, not at all paying attention. y/n watched cooper climb into the furthest row of the car, leaving her, Charlie, and Traves to fit into the middle row. y/n held her breath as she climbed in, being forced to squeeze into the middle seat. She rested all her belongings in her lap, staring forwards through the windshield.

“Everyone packed in?” They all gave a chorus of ‘yes’ as Ted pulled out of his parking spot and to the open road. It was only 20 minutes from the beach, shorter if traffic got lucky.

The music bumped throughout the car and everyone split into different conversations. Jawsh and Ted talked about something or other, Traves and Cooper shared content on their phones, and Charlie turned to look at y/n. “I brought the boogie boards! Do you want to— what’s wrong?”

She turned to look at him, slightly surprised. “Yeah. No I’d love to boogie board.”

“Are you okay?” Charlie dropped how loud his voice was compared to everyone else. “Something seems off.”

“I’m good.” She lazily smiled at him then turned back to stare out the windshield. She liked watching the cars and buildings pass by in a blur. Charlie looked away from her and followed her line of vision. He didn’t quite understand, but he was determined to.

The group soon arrived at the beach. They quickly unpacked their full trunk and set up their seating on the beach. Ted made sure the umbrella stood upright, Traves and Cooper carried the coolers, Jawsh and y/n set out chairs and blankets, and Charlie carried the toys.

“Everyone sun screened?” Ted gestured as he tried to pass around a bottle. “y/n? I don’t want you to get cancer.”

“I’m good!” She’d already applied skin protectant before leaving the house. y/n set down her stuff and sat in the low lawn chair. She took in the sight of Cooper, Traves and Jawsh racing towards the shore, stumbling over each other in the sand. Charlie sat a few feet away from the laid out area, taking a child’s plastic shovel and beginning to dig a hole.

Ted snapped a lid to a cooler shut and cracked open his soda. He set it in the cup holder of a chair and set his glasses down on the same seat. “I’m headed to the water.”

y/n waved him off as he left. She closed her eyes, feeling herself sink into the chair. She still had on her large shirt and shorts, but they were starting to grow warm. It was hot outside, and she knew she’d be so much more comfortable in just the bathing suit she had under neath.

A shadow appeared over y/n and she opened her eyes again. Charlie stood smiling, a hand extended towards her pick her up. “Come on! Get in the water.”

“No you go ahead.” She sat up slightly, looking between her friends in the water and the boy in front of her. Charlie stayed, persistent.

“y/n get in the water. It’ll be fun!”

“Charlie you go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

He frowned, dropping his hand. “But you were so excited. You told me you bought that dinosaur suit and everything.”

y/n blushed. She didn’t remember telling him, but he was right. She likes the dinosaurs. She had wanted to go in the water this whole time. She took a breath, and stood from her seat. She slowly took off the shorts and t-shirt, placing them back in her seat. She turned to Charlie with a small smile. “Teach me to boogie board.”

“R-Right.” Charlie turned away from her a red tinge to his face. She felt discouraged almost, that Charlie of all people couldn’t look at her in a fucking bathing suit. The negative thoughts started coming back, the reminders, but she tried to kick them away. She wanted to enjoy the beach.

She followed Charlie to the shore line. He dragged behind himself two three-foot-tall boards made of foam and plastic with a tether made of coiled cord and a Velcro band. He slid the two boards into the water. The salt and sand kicked at the foam as he tied one tether around y/n’s wrist. “What are-?”

“You won’t loose it.” Charlie smiled as he talked. He glanced back up to her eyes with a smile, but quickly looked back to make sure the tether was secured to her wrist. Charlie took y/n’s hand in his, pulling her out deeper in the water until the water was just above her middle.

“Aren’t we in the breakers?”

“Yeah! This is exactly where we need to be. Okay you’re gonna hold it like this-“ Charlie got on his board, gripping the top with his hands and resting his chest towards the bottom of his board. y/n copied him, pulling the board closer than he had his. “Okay. So when the right wave comes, jump and let it take you. If it’s the right one it’ll carry you back to shore.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Try again.” y/n felt the water be sucked from beside her as the tide rolled over. She glanced to see Charlie lean further onto his board, and she did the same. “This is a good one. Ready?”

“I guess.”

y/n and Charlie jumped at the same time. She laughed as the wave swept her past her friends towards the Sandy shore. She almost made it, but at the last moment she flipped and tumbled in the water.

“Fuck!” Charlie ran over to y/n’s side. She laid on the sand, coughing lightly as she sat up. There was a track of sand down her side, and the boogie board kept bumping into her rudely. “Are you Alright? I’m really sorry.”

“How do I take this thing off?” y/n sat up, pulling at the velcro around her arm. Charlie removed it for her, tossing the board aside. He extended his hand, helping pull her up from the ground. y/n dusted the sand from her legs, and looked up watch Charlie whip his head away with a furious blush covering his cheeks.

“I— Just unwrap the- the thing. The- that.” y/n did as instructed, and handed the boogie board over to Charlie. She watched him take the two boards back over to their beach setup. She followed him, going to sit in her beach chair and wrap a towel around herself. Charlie took a glance at her, the same red returning to his face, then walked very quickly to where some of the other boys were still in the water.

“You two good?” Cooper took a slow sip from a canned soda, glancing between Charlie and y/n.

“Yep.” She felt herself sink lower into the seat. “No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Well- I just-“ she closed her eyes and took a breath. “I bought this stupid bathing suit cause I wanted to feel good about it and about myself and he can’t even look at me in it. I just feel stupid and ugly.”

“Woah woah. y/n there’s no way you’re ugly, period. And there’s no way Charlie thinks you’re ugly.”

“You’re just saying that cause I’m here.”

“I’m saying cause I’m your friend and Charlie thinks you’re fuckin smokin.”

y/n sat up and looked at copper again. “What?”

“Sorry. Let me re-phrase. Charlie thinks-“ Cooper paused, holding his soda in one hand. “I-uh. I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t say anything!”

“Yes you did!” y/n stared at Cooper in confusion. He tried to get up and run, but stumbled in the sand and slammed into one of the coolers. He rolled over in the sand, groaning. y/n got out of her chair And knelt down next to him. “Tell me know?”

“He- ugh. He think you’re hot idiot.” Cooper rolled over, flopping his arms outwards and closing his eyes. “That fuckin hurt.”

y/n opened the cooler Cooper had fallen on. She took a handful of ice out and laid it on the spot on Cooper’s abdomen that had hit the cooler. She pressed it closer with the towel she’d been wearing moments before. “Tell me more!”

“No! I’m not doing this for the two of you.”

“The two of us?” y/n withdrew her hand slightly, feeling her face grow warm. “You’re not-“

“Shut up. You’re both so into each tower it’s gross.” Cooper looked back towards the shore line and gave an evil grin. “Speak of the devil.”

y/n paused. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone walking up the the chairs and towels that she had no doubt was Charlie. Cooper started standing, leaving her sitting in the sand.

“Hey you good? We saw you fall?”

“Yeah.” Cooper patted Charlie on the shoulder. “By the way, you tow should talk.”

y/n whipped her head away from Charlie, anger and embarrassment bubbling from within her. Charlie was none the wiser. “Uh, about what Cooper?”

Cooper pushed off of Charlie, walking back towards the water. “Tell her what you think man. I’m tired.”

Charlie watched Cooper walk into the water, then turned back to y/n with a furious blush. “I- uh. I like the suit. The dinosaurs. You look great- the dinosaurs. You look great in the suit with the dinosaurs. I mean you look great anyways I just- dinosaurs!”

“Thanks.” y/n sat up a bit straighter.

“So,” Charlie sat cross-legged on a blanket in the sand. “What were you two talking about?”

“I told Cooper I felt ugly and then he said that you said I was smokin.”

“You’re not-! I didn’t say that.”

“Come on Charlie, am I ugly or smokin?”

Charlie paused, frowning. “Joking doesn’t make it go away.”

“I know. It’s just easier. It’s okay it’s just weird to talk about.” She laid back onto the blanket, letting her arms rest above her head. “I like the bathing suit I just don’t like me in it.”

“I understand.” Charlie built small piles of sand at his feet. “I know I can’t change much but for what it’s worth I think you’re pretty.”

She turned her head, looking at him confusedly. “You do?”

“Well- I-“ He pursed his lips, thinking. “I would use the word gorgeous instead.”

“Oh.” y/n looked away from Charlie, trying to hide their flustered expression.

“Oh wait did I say the wrong thing?” Charlie started fiddling with his hands, not sure what to do. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable it’s just- fuck you’re so pretty and I really like you and god you look fucking great but you’re also really funny and smart and sweet and I like you so much but I’m really sorry-“

“Charlie.” y/n placed a hand on his arm, now sitting in the sand next to him. “You never made me uncomfortable.”

“Oh thank god. I never wanted to-“

“I like you to.”

Charlie froze, taking in what y/n said as a blush crept up his neck to his cheeks. He laughed, running a hand through his hair. “No way! Wait no way. Really?” y/n nodded and he laughed again, leaning over to place his hands on the side of her face and rest his forehead against hers. “Holy shit! Like actually holy shit!”

y/n laughed, quickly kissing Charlie’s nose. “Come on nerd let’s get back in the water.”

“Yeah! Yes.” Charlie scrambled upright, pulling a giggling y/n up with him. “Here watch this.” Charlie, in one fluid motion, swept y/n off her feet and began carrying her bridal style. He walked with her in his arms all the way to the water, where he fell into the water with her. They both came up for air, y/n laughing the whole time. “Better?”

“Much better.” y/n kissed him again, putting her arms over his shoulders to hold him close.

“Hey! You two.” Cooper splashed water at y/n and Charlie. “You done?”

The two paused, looking back to each other, then swam towards their group of friends, starting a splash free-for-all.

#dsmp #dsmp fanfic #dsmp x reader #charlie slimecicle my beloved #charlie slimecicle #charlie slimecicle x reader #slimecicle #slimecicle x reader #lunch club #lunch club x reader

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specialagentsergio · 3 years

Text

baby kiss it better

summary: When D.C. implements a lockdown order, you and Spencer decide to quarantine together. There’s just one problem—he’s working from home, and his coworkers don’t know about you.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: a few swear words, but otherwise it’s just fluff

a/n: ahh, the secret partner trope. how i love it. this is set in 2020, but with the season 5 cast! i was feeling particularly self-indulgent, so i made reader a night shift worker. this is for you, fellow night owls. stay safe out there everyone, and wear a mask!

a/n 2: i don’t actually know what a doctor or physical therapist would recommend for spencer’s knee injury. this is just going on my basic understanding of anatomy (i took a class in it this fall!) and what i've seen on grey’s anatomy lol.

word count: 2.2k

masterlist

Spencer tries not to grimace as he shifts in his chair. Working from home during the lockdown had initially seemed like it came at a great time, starting just a month after his knee injury. Sure, he wasn’t thrilled about having to do almost everything digitally, but at least he wouldn’t have to worry about being mobile.

Unfortunately, that had turned out to be a downside. Tethered to his seat by headphones, he hasn’t been able to get up and stretch his leg properly, and as a result, is experiencing more pain.

It’s only 8:30, but he can already feel it flaring up. It’s been happening earlier every day, likely due to the existing irritation from the day before. Today is Thursday, and he’s miserable—he dreads to think of what tomorrow will be like.

He’s wondering if there’s some way he could get out of work tomorrow when he hears the sound of the front door being unlocked. He looks up to see you pushing the door open with your shoulder, carrying far too many grocery bags than is reasonable.

“Be careful!” he exclaims, watching as you teeter to the side a little. You just wave him off and close the door with your heel.

Working from home may not have been the positive he was expecting it to be, but you’ve more than made up for it. The two of you had decided to quarantine together, and he’s really loved having you around. Granted, you’ve only been here since Sunday, but he’s starting to think that this is going to end with him asking you to move in with him for good.

He hears a thunk as you dump all the groceries on the kitchen table. Then you’re back in the living room, taking off your mask as you walk by so you can blow him a kiss. He presses his knuckles to his mouth to hide his smile.

Usually you give him a proper cheek or forehead kiss when you get home, but the team doesn’t know about you yet. It’s not that he’s necessarily keeping you a secret, he just... likes having you to himself, and he doesn’t really want it to change just yet.

He’s also not looking forward to the pitch Garcia’s voice is going to hit when she finds out he’s been dating someone for over a year without telling her.

“Are you listening, Reid?” Hotch’s voice makes Spencer focus back in on the screen.

“Oh, y-yeah. Yeah, of course. Um, I was just thinking that this choice of rope to bind the victims is interesting.” He doles out a few facts about it, which seems to do an adequate job of convincing everyone that he’s paying attention.

They take a break when the main briefing is over—Jack needs something from Hotch and Sergio has apparently knocked something breakable off of Emily’s kitchen counter. He slides his headphones off and mutes his mic. Apparently that’s a cue you’ve been waiting for, because only a few moments later you’re placing a mug of tea on his desk.

“Green tea,” you say. “Might help reduce the inflammation in your knee.” Then you’re lifting his foot off the small stool it’s resting on and sliding another pillow under it so his leg is more elevated.

“Wh—“ he starts, but you’re already hurrying back into the kitchen. You come back with a baggie of ice wrapped in a dishtowel in your hands, which you place it gently on top of his knee.

“Twenty minutes on, twenty minutes off,” you say. “Then repeat with heat instead, like your physical therapist said. I’ll get the heating pad from the bedroom.”

“Hey, wait.” Spencer snags your wrists before you can walk away again. “How’d you know it was hurting?”

“Oh, I always know,” you reply. “You should have realized that by now.”

He thinks on that as you leave to get the heating pad, sipping his tea. You do always seem to just know, whether he’s in physical pain, a bad case is bothering him, or even if he’s just in a bad mood and doesn’t know why himself.

Not a day goes by where he doesn’t feel incredibly lucky to have you in his life.

“I’m leaving it by this outlet behind you. Have you been doing your stretches?”

He bites his lip, hesitating because he knows you won’t like the answer. But he doesn’t have to say it; you can tell from his expression.

“Spencer. You know you need to be doing them.”

“I know, I do,” he insists. “I just... can’t really get up and do them with these headphones.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Okay, so take them off. Your laptop has speakers.”

“But I don’t want to disturb you,” he protests. Since you work the night shift, you sleep during the day, usually heading to bed around 11 AM. He doesn’t want the noise from the Zoom calls to keep you up. Much like the bullpen in the FBI building, the calls can get rowdy.

“You won’t,” you assure. “I’ll just shut the bedroom door.”

“I guess that works,” he relents. “But I feel weird getting up and stretching in front of everyone. Like, wouldn’t that be disruptive?”

You sigh. “Spencer, I understand it’ll make you self-conscious, but you want full mobility in your knee again, right?”

“Yeah, I do, I get it,” he says sullenly, looking down into his mug. “I need to do the stretches if I want it to heal well.”

“Hey.” You take one of his hands and squeeze it. “I’m not trying to annoy you. I just want you to get better and be in less pain. I don’t like to see you hurting.”

“You’re not annoying me. I guess I’m just... not really used to being taken care of,” he admits quietly.

“Well, I’m gonna fix that.”

The confidence in your voice makes him unable to hold back a smile. “Alright.”

You smile back. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Spencer’s about to tell you that you’ve done plenty when an idea strikes him. He tilts his head to the side. “Well, there is something.”

“Yes?”

“There’s some research—nothing too substantial, but still some—that says kisses can help relieve pain,” he says.

You laugh, but it’s not unkind. “Oh, so you want me to kiss it better?”

“Yeah,” he murmurs, glancing away shyly.

“Okay, then.” You tuck his hair behind his ear and press a kiss to his forehead. “Better?” you ask softly.

He hums. “Better.”

“Good.” You stand back up and stretch. “Well, I’ll be awake for a few more hours, so let me know if you need anything.”

“I will.”

Spencer puts his headphones back on—he wants to wait to unplug them until you go to bed to spare you from hearing anything gruesome—and looks back at the screen to find Morgan, Emily, JJ, and Garcia staring him down. Rather hesitantly, he unmutes his mic and asks, “What?”

Emily is grinning—she looks the more awake than she has all morning. “Is there anything you wanna tell us?” she asks.

“Yeah, Spence,” JJ chimes in, “any new developments in your life?”

“I don’t—” he starts, then it hits him like a truck. He remembered to mute his mic, but the camera was still on. Clearly, they all saw you kiss his forehead. He barely stops himself from hitting his head against the table; he covers his face with his hands instead and groans.

“Isn’t the whole point of all this that we stay away from other people?” Morgan asks, and Spencer doesn’t have to look up to know that Derek has a shit-eating grin on his face.

“People outside of your household,” he corrects without thinking.

“Oh my god!” Garcia shrieks and he winces, pulling the headphones off out of instinct. He’s not the only one—JJ jumps and yanks her earbuds out, and Derek lifts one side of his headphones away from his ear. Spencer hesitantly copies him, putting one half of his headphones back on.

“Jesus, Pen, you scared the shit out of Sergio,” Emily’s saying.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” she says, then turns her attention completely to Spencer. “Boy wonder. You’re living with someone and I’m just now hearing about it?”

“I mean, you never asked,” he points out.

“Well, I didn’t think I’d have to!” she huffs. “You usually tell your friends if you’re seeing someone new, let alone living with them!”

“You do, maybe. Emily and I don’t,” he says.

Emily herself shrugs. “Good point. Fair enough, Reid.”

“Besides, we’re not living together,” he continues, “We’re quarantining together.”

“Right, because that’s such a big difference,” JJ teases. He glares at her in return.

Rossi returns to his desk before Penelope can start bombarding Spencer with questions. But there’s no reprieve for him—the man takes one look around and knows something’s up. “Okay, what’s going on?” he asks.

“We just found out pretty boy has a partner,” Morgan sing-songs before Spencer can say anything.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.”

“And he didn’t tell any of us!” Garcia adds.

Spencer groans again and presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. “This is exactly why I didn’t say anything,” he mutters.

A knocking sound draws his attention away from the call. You’re standing in the bedroom doorway, your hand resting on the doorframe. “You okay?” you ask. “I just heard you groan.”

Spencer mutes his mic again and then leans over so he’s out of the camera’s frame. “They found out,” he sighs.

“Found out what?”

“Found out about... you.”

Realization crosses your face. “They saw me kissing you better?”

“Yeah. I forgot the camera was still on,” he says sheepishly.

“Well, it was bound to happen eventually.” You make your way over to him and take the ice off his knee. “It’s been twenty minutes, by the way.”

“Thanks. So, um...” He picks up the fidget toy you bought him when he was going stir-crazy in the hospital and starts messing with it. “What do you wanna do about this?”

“Whatever you’re most comfortable with,” you reply immediately.

“Okay, good answer,” he says. “But I actually want to know how you feel about this.”

“Well, I’m fine with meeting them, even if it’s just over Zoom. But if you’d rather wait, I’m fine with that, too. Really,” you add when he raises an eyebrow.

“Okay, well.” Spencer looks back at the screen. Hotch has returned now, and even though he can’t hear anything, it’s clear they’re all waiting on him. Best to just do this now, he thinks, otherwise I’ll be hearing about it all day. “How would you feel about meeting them right now?”

You blink. “Um, okay. So long as you don’t mind me looking like I was up all night, because, you know... I was.”

“You look fine,” he reassures. “Uh, just stay put for a second. Let me ask if this is okay.”

He readjusts to sit in his chair properly. He starts to put his headphones back on, but you unplug them so you can hear what’s happening.

“You ready to continue, Reid?” Hotch asks. It’s business as usual with him—if he was told what happened earlier, Spencer can’t tell.

“Well, actually,” he starts, and nervousness bubbles up in his chest. He glances up and you give him a reassuring smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could introduce you guys to someone first?”

Garcia squeals. “Ooh, sir, please say yes!”

“Just keep it quick,” Hotch says. He didn’t even hesitate—they totally told him.

Spencer takes a deep breath, then gestures for you to come over. You seem a little nervous as well, but you handle it well, walking around the desk and into the frame. “Oh, we should have gotten you something to sit on,” he laments when you lean over the back of his chair.

“It’s fine.” You drape your arms around his shoulders and adjust so your head is on the same level as his. It’s silent for a moment, then you say, “Well, introduce me, silly.”

“Oh!” He clears his throat, trying to ignore the heat he feels in his cheeks. “Um, this is (Y/N). My... my partner.”

The call explodes with greetings, everyone talking over each other. “Slow down, slow down,” Spencer pleads. This is all overwhelming enough—he doesn’t need any excess stimuli.

Once it settles, everyone takes their turn introducing themselves (you already know who they all are, though, as he’s told you so much about them). Then you field a few questions—what you do for work, how you met, what your favorite food is (that was Rossi—Spencer suspects that he wants to know for the first dinner party he can hold after quarantine is over).

It’s going well. Everyone seems to like you, and you’re getting by just fine. Until Garcia asks her question, that is.

“So, (Y/N), how long has boy wonder been keeping you a secret from us?”

Both of you tense. “Uh, you know what, I’ll let him answer that,” you say quickly. “It’s just about time for me to go to bed.”

“Wha—no. No, it’s not. It’s just barley past nine,” Spencer protests.

“Yeah, I’m really tired. I’m gonna try and get some extra sleep today.” You give a little wave. “It was nice meeting you all.”

“Don’t leave me,” he whispers desperately. “Not with that question.”

You feign a yawn. “Sorry, I’m just too tired.”

He watches you go back to the bedroom with a pout.

“Well?” Garcia insists when he looks back at her.

Spencer cringes and preemptively lowers his computer volume.

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

tell me what you thought here!

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #fluff #my fic #yes i watch grey's what about it

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thosewickedlovelies · 3 years

Text

The answer | Frankie Morales x GN!Reader x Santiago Garcia

Summary: Questions are asked and answered. Takes place immediately following “Ask me”

Rating: E for Explicit

Tags: SMUT, threesome, reader is penetrated; best friends who have always been a little bit in love with each other vibes (inspired by this photo)

Word Count: 1,743

A/N: I’ve been kinda wanting to challenge myself to do a gender-neutral smut piece, and I thought this would be a good opportunity to do so :) I’ve never written anything like this before (in terms of both the gender-neutrality and the gay vibes), so I’m open to (gentle) constructive criticism <3

“Worry about me later, baby,” Frankie urges. “Right now what I want is to take care of you.” Nectar drips from his voice like that fateful fruit, slicking your descent toward sweet surrender.

"Or watch me take care of you, anyway,” Santiago adds. Still crouched on his knees before you, lips glistening, the round of his spine suggests laser-focus, a predator about to pounce. There’s a hint of a smirk on his face, but the look in eyes is deferent as he glances over your shoulder to Frankie.

Your partner’s body enfolds you like a silk hammock, a warm, rippling sea in which you have no fear of drowning. Frankie’s chest is bare and smooth against your back, supporting you as if he’s only here to reinforce your pleasure, and not partake of it himself. Although if his words from moments ago were any indication, he was indeed getting his own enjoyment:

“Too good to me, baby,” murmured through sloppy kisses and removing clothes.

“Fuck, you look so good between us,” groaned into your ear while you squirmed, callused fingers on your nipples and Santi's mouth on your neck.

“Yeah, let me hear you,” satisfaction barely audible over the irrepressible moan that Santi drew from you as he slowly worked you open.

Meaningfully Frankie skates his palms down over your hips, dipping tantalizingly close to the burning between them before winging away. Fingers digging into the plush flesh, he spreads your thighs for Santi.

Again. The air vanishes from your lungs at Frankie’s gesture.

He keeps you pinned open as Santiago inches forward and you’re certain you’re trembling, even as fresh arousal wells in anticipation. This feels so much more, somehow- suddenly immediate and undeniable that you’re really here, about to be fucked by your boyfriend’s best friend while said boyfriend holds you open for him.

Perhaps because this isn’t just affecting you. You note, through the throbbing heat demanding your attention, the tension in Frankie’s body framing you. How careful Santi is about where he places his hands- on you or the couch, no longer bold and teasing with Frankie. The skitter of his gaze, like he doesn’t know quite where to focus now that he’s facing both of you so directly. You wonder where Frankie is looking.

When Santi is finally nestled to the base inside you, an inch for every panting breath, you’re not the only shaky one. His muscles quiver with the effort of holding himself over you, the feeling of you engulfing him threatening to overwhelm his good sense. For a moment there is only the strained rise and fall of your chests as both men wait for you to adjust. It’s akin to being rocked by the swells of an ocean, only in this case your anchor is Santiago, keeping his hips flush with yours, keeping you present on the delicious, searing stretch of his cock.

Frankie’s tongue on your neck makes you shiver, and Santi gasps when you clench around him. Smiling, you admire the gleam of sweat at his temples, the desperate lines around his squeezed-shut eyes. It’s difficult to maneuver yourself in this position, but you arch your body into his as best you can, giving him permission to move with a squeeze of his muscular ass.

A raspy laugh slips from him. It’s a bit clumsy at first- accommodating to the weave of limbs in which the three of you are entangled. Possibly this would be easier on a bed or even the floor, but it’s far too late to move now, lost in each other as you are. You know the boys would agree- even if you had the opportunity to be transported with merely a snap of the fingers, it feels right that this should happen here, on a slightly cramped couch, stifling smiles and snorts of laughter but never your eagerness for each other.

Santiago is impossibly beautiful like this. Every hard-earned muscle on display, working in harmony to the cadence that’s always swayed the three of you, however unconsciously. His eyes half-lidded and hazy, his little groans of effort and pleasure complementing Frankie’s caresses. It’s clear from Frankie’s own awed murmurs that he’s experiencing the same bliss you are, and he lets his hands linger on your front so his knuckles brush Santi’s torso. Like strings on a loom pulling gradually tighter, the design you three are creating becomes steadily clearer.

“Damn,” Frankie says hoarsely. The angle of your head prevents you from seeing his expression fully, but you make a wordless sound of wholehearted agreement.

“Mm?” Santiago hums in question despite his own daze, spying something in Frankie’s face that you missed.

“Just…it’s obvious which one of us aged better.”

Frankie’s voice is strained, his body tense. He’s been hard since the moment Santiago said yes, but a tangible slippery patch has grown against your back while the other man rocked in and out of you, long, measured strokes making an easy smear of Frankie’s cock.

Santi looks up, startled. Then his smile crooks. “Shut up, Frank,” he laughs, and the kiss to your shoulder doesn’t feel like it’s for you.

Frankie chuckles, raspy and affectionate, and it’s like the picture is finally identifiable, an outline of this potential future woven clear.

The turn of your head gets their attention. Santiago slows his hips as you stretch your neck toward Frankie, his lips just reachable in this position. But Santi’s thrusts still entirely when you face him next, your kiss brim-full of the same contentment you’d given Frankie. Something fraught flickers between the two men when you pull back; Santiago looks almost shy as, hesitantly and then all at once, he presses his lips to the corner of Frankie’s mouth for a lingering, reverent second.

Frankie’s eyes close and his head tips back as Santi drops his forehead to your shoulder. His curls catch on the bristly hair of Frankie’s jaw, steady, rhythmic again, and you’re not sure of the delineations between your bodies anymore. You feel full, in more ways than one, surrounded both physically and emotionally.

Frankie’s moans are music to your ears as you reach behind you, stroking his cock as best you can while semi-laying on it. Fuck, his husky sounds never fail to heat your blood- a new experience for Santiago, you’re guessing, from the way his eyes flare, fixed on his friend’s dropped-open mouth. There’s been no particular hurry to your activities thus far, but a sense of urgency is growing now, blossoming with every drag of skin on skin, every throaty plea weighting the humid air.

It’s not long before Santi’s grasp on your shoulder slips, flushed with sweat as you are. Fumbling, he braces himself on Frankie’s broader frame, and your partner holds his hand in place, unthinking. Santiago swears. He looks you over, eyes a little wild, then back up at Frankie, imploring.

Obliging, Frankie’s other hand snakes down your front, fingers searching, circling where you’re most sensitive. Distantly you’re aware of him rutting against your back, tiny whines scraping his throat with a familiar desperation. Everything in you tightens around the slick jerk of his fingers.

You cry out as you come, hips arching into Santiago, flattening Frankie’s hand between you. Santi gasps ragged and guttural as you spasm around him, and your rapture careens abruptly higher at the speed and force with which he’s suddenly slamming into you. A jumble of hands hold your shuddering frame in place as Santiago finds his own release, shoving the three of you impossibly deeper into each other.

For a moment it feels as if you’re floating, your body tethered only by the bruising clutch of your hands and theirs. As your awareness returns, you notice that Frankie is rigid behind you, still quivering, his lower half contorted as if to gain as much contact with your skin as possible.

Oh. There’s far too much wetness against your back for it to just be sweat.

A giddy, dreamy laugh wisps from your next exhale. Frankie doesn’t react, but Santi rolls his head to face you with a drowsy hm?

You disentangle one of your hands and lift it to gently rub Frankie’s scalp with your fingertips, tousling the curls as if scratching a pet’s ears. “Just glad we were all able to make it.” Your still-breathless tone carries your meaning. You twist your head to kiss the nearest bit of him, which happens to be his jaw.

Santi lifts his head, his expression somewhere between surprised and smug. Frankie only gives an airy shrug, inclining his head to mouth at your shoulder; the space now shared by both men’s faces.

“Meant what I said,” Frankie offers in his low voice. His gaze flits over what it can reach of Santiago’s naked body.

Surprise completely overtakes the smugness in Santi’s face, his mouth curving up as if he’s powerless to stop it. You observe in delighted disbelief. You know from experience how much it normally takes to make Santiago blush- yet here he is, all afluster at a few words from Frankie. Chuckling, Santi ducks his head again.

You wriggle sideways slightly so as to better see more of Frankie’s face, a shift that results in Santi leaning on him with his whole arm and flank. The thoughtful flicker of his eyes over Frankie’s further exposed torso doesn’t go unnoticed.

“We’ll see,” is all Santiago says; but his contentment is palpable, his tiny smile a confession. Frankie relaxes as the other man collapses again, this time with his head more on Frankie’s shoulder than yours.

The sun is past its peak now, longer shadows interrupting its shine through the windows, but the three of you don’t need it. You can all but see the afterglow illuminating, the way the filaments of a lantern gradually brighten as they warm, casting gentle light on the possibilities presented here.

You regard Santi with an indulgent smile. You sweep it up to Frankie next, softening at the sight of his unruly hair and the relief with which he returns it. There’s an unspeakable kind of gratitude mingling with the adoration in his eyes. As if his thanks could possibly be necessary; as if you would have ever denied either of them the opportunity to explore such long-contained feelings, no matter what your original proposition for this afternoon may have been.

“Next time,” Frankie murmurs, his lips brushing Santiago’s brow, “we’re doing this in a bed.”

Taglist: @thirstworldproblemss, @leonieb

#triple frontier fic #triple frontier #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #frankie x reader x santi #triple frontier imagine

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bastillia · 4 years

Text

Innocuous (NSFW)

Read on Ao3

Summary: You’re a medical officer aboard the Steadfast, and you’ve found yourself caring for a gravely injured Kylo Ren. He seems to require some unconventional treatment.

Rating: Extremely Explicit

Words: 7.5k

Content warnings: Somewhat graphic depictions of injury, wound/bloodplay, burnplay, oral bloodplay, oral sex (f recieving), orgasm denial/delay, choking, inappropriate use of the Force (and of a medical device oops), rough sex, extremely minimal aftercare, Kylo Ren is a nasty fucking boy, LISTEN this gets a lil dark ok, so just please consider before clicking ok tysm

A/N: I scrapped and restarted this whole thing at least twice, but we finally got there my friends. Is this over the top? Maybe. Do I have a single regret? No. Please heed the content warnings, you may have a bad day if you don’t. This is pure unadulterated filth. Enjoy!

Strips of fluorescent light ribbed the vacant hall, white beams streaking reflections across the glossy black floor like a frozen lane of hyperspace as the urgent click of your boots perturbed the calm. The corridors of the Steadfast were all but barren this time of cycle, only disturbed by the occasional patrol of noc shift troopers trudging mechanically in unison. Devoid of the usual bustle of footsteps and orders, the static hum from the ship’s walls washed the air with a bassy din of ambient noise that might be calming, were your heartbeat not adding an anxious percussion to the silence.

You really had no reason to be awake, you should have taken your sleeping aid hours ago, but the endless scroll of patient files on your datapad had kept you up just long enough to see the alarm flash. Hardly a momentary blip, but the peculiarity of it was what propelled you from your quarters and heated your step with urgency now. Medical Bay: Intake - Officer’s Ward, it had flashed, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Tapping the access pad that led to the sequestered corridor, you waited for the door to slide open and slipped through. Needles crawled up your spine as your gaze shifted around the familiar yet eerily still hallway, which was making you nervous now for absolutely no reason. Each private room should be empty, you knew you hadn’t checked any officers in for overnight care, and you could recite your inpatient registry as if it were etched into the backs of your eyelids. Droids didn’t typically throw faulty alarms -- maybe your eyes had simply deceived you after a long and fucking exhausting day of post-mission damage control in the med bay. Echoes of that exhaustion now placed a terror within each shadowed room that you passed, something that your brain was convinced would surely jump out at you.

You stopped dead as you reached the final door, half-hoping this one was your imagination. He was still. Too still. Limbs sprawling over the edges of the cot, with haphazard bandages crossing his bare torso aimlessly. They were visibly soaked through with blood, contrasting the blanched sheen of sweat-drenched skin, a black mop of hair askew over the pillow.

A violent spike of dread lanced down your spine. You darted into the room, your medical instincts hot-starting and roaring in your eardrums as you alighted upon him with gentle precision. Two fingers flashed to the pulse point at his neck, depressing the slick, hot skin there as your frantic eyes fell to the broad rise of his chest. Pulse. Breathing. Both too shallow and fast, but present, thank the stars.

You released the held breath that was starting to burn your lungs. The alarm. What had sent it? You glanced around. Monitor wires lay scattered over the floor around the metal feet of the bed, not a single one connected. A fizzling noise behind you nearly snapped your neck as you whipped around. A nurse droid lay lifeless, crumpled and sparking against the far wall.

Oh.

You turned slowly back to the unconscious Supreme Leader, fear trickling coldly down your veins in a moment of consideration. He’d wanted to be alone.

Your mind suddenly supplied you with an image of yourself in place of the droid, bones crunched like scrap metal against the wall, eyes glazed, life flickering and dying in the fried wires of your veins. How easy it would be -- effortless, even -- For him to crush the life out of you with little more than a flick of his wrist. How… maybe that knowledge made you tingle, just a little.

You derailed that train of thought with a sharp shake of your head as your eyes flicked across his battered torso and up the column of his neck, settling on the tranquility of his face. Bruised and bloody as it was, he looked… peaceful. Freckles and moles dusting his skin like starry kisses to soothe the ache of battle. His features, always chiseled from the sternest isoform of marble, now softened in sleep. Suspended in a paradoxical state of youthful serenity even as his body worked in overdrive just to tether him to life. He was… just a man. And he was absolutely beautiful.

Maybe you stared at him, just a little longer than you should, before committing to your courage and snatching an antiseptic cloth. If one of you was going to die, at least you were the more replaceable option. And this was what you’d signed up for, wasn’t it? To serve the First Order, even perhaps at the expense of your life. For… the greater good, or something. Yeah. Higher purpose and all that. You were a good medic, and good medics were selfless. It definitely wasn’t because you, perhaps, didn’t mind entertaining the thought of those large hands around your neck, squeezing...

Fucking focus.

Expertly, delicately, you began to peel back the blood-soaked evidence of his attempt to self-bandage, baring the flesh of his torso. Stars, he was magnificent. Glistening skin lay taut over lean muscle, a finely-tuned war machine sculpted by years of hard training, evident even in the depths of sleep. The subtle ripple of his muscles expanding and contracting with each breath spread that insistent tingle through your lower belly as you meticulously swiped the blood and sweat from his body.

Your hands danced to the pace of your heartbeat. Quick and steady, as you tossed the cloth and fitted a needle onto a syringe tip. A light pinch of his skin here, so that he wouldn't feel the prick of the shot there. Pure habit, not that a small needle stick would hold a candle to his injuries in terms of pain. But you didn’t really want him waking up just yet. You pushed the plunger down to administer a microdose of bacta. Just enough to hotwire the healing process, without dulling sensation.

You'd mused privately to yourself on more than one occasion, that you thought he liked to feel the pain. Whether it was a show of control, or an exercise in self-punishment, you couldn’t say. But you'd learned early on, working here, never to bring a pain suppressant around the former Commander.

Maybe no one else had ever picked up on that, because it seemed you were the only person he ever allowed near him with a bandage. You didn't mind. Nor did you mind the way his eyes always followed you quietly as you worked, as you'd gently cleanse his wounds from the battles and conquests that he fearlessly led as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. You certainly liked him better than the last one. You thought maybe Ren even liked the way your fingers would subtly worship his figure with every quiet and efficient pass of gauze. Maybe he knew where those fingers ended up later. Sick bastard. A smirk tugged the corner of your lip.

His arm was hanging over the edge of the cot, a cautery pen still held loosely in his bloodied fingers. You sighed, removing the device, and picked his arm up to lay it neatly by his side. The weight of it caught your breath in your chest, the solid and heavy cord of muscle dwarfing your hands.

You quickly shook away the distraction, seating yourself on the bedside stool and turning to your most immediate concern: The deep, ripped laceration that bled from his lower abdomen. Vibroblade, you’d wager. It was oozing around the half-cauterized flesh, ugly and red from where he'd clearly begun to try and solder himself shut. You gently placed the cauterizer on the bedside stand. A crude tactic, and not one you would settle for, you decided as you retrieved a sterile suture pouch instead. Preparing another antiseptic cloth and gauze for the blood, you hovered back over the wound.

A realization started to echo along the tunnel of your focus, and the walls crashed away with a thump of your heart as you stared at Ren's flank beneath you, where his breathing had notably deepened and steadied. Your hands froze as your eyes shifted up the planes of his torso, cold spines gouging your chest as you reached his face. His eyes were open, fixed calmly upon your own stare, a flush restored to his full, pouted lips. Ice shattered in your veins.

"S-supreme Leader, I-” You dropped your materials onto the mattress, “You- you want to b-be alone, I'll j-just-" you were stammering, pushing your seat back, brain vibrating with panic. This was it. You escaped now, or you were joining the droid.

You made it about halfway to standing when a hand cinched on your wrist, arresting your movement. Your breath halted as you snapped back around, your heartbeat slamming in your throat.

Something boiled up behind his irises then, trapped so fiercely under the tempered surface of his eyes that his jaw locked tight and his chin quivered slightly with the strain of it. Your brain began to scramble. The look held an unmistakable need, a plea that said, so deafening in its silence, Stay.

You carefully held his gaze as you began to sink back down onto the small seat beside the bed. Your hand was trembling under his grip, every drop of air evaporating in your lungs as his pleading eyes burned through you. You slowly let yourself sit until your weight rested fully on the stool again.

Ren’s body slackened, releasing the air back into the room, and his head dropped back onto the thin pillow in a flutter of raven locks. His eyes drifted shut as a breath rolled through his nose and deep into his chest.

His grip had eased around your wrist, enough for your brain to now register the pleasant warmth of his enormous hand as it softly enveloped the lower part of your forearm. The sensation dumbfounded you for a moment as you stared between your arm and your Supreme Leader's face. The muscles in his brow twitched over his closed eyes as several more controlled breaths seemed to forcibly banish something from his body.

You came back to yourself as a trickle of dark blood drew your gaze back down to his abdomen, where it painted a river over bruised flesh before falling down his side to soak crimson sunbursts into the white sheet. You cautiously twisted your wrist free, and he let his hand drop softly back to the sheet without resistance. Hesitantly, you ran a hand across his skin, next to the gaping wound, inspecting the separated flesh. Firm muscles bunched under your touch, tugging at the ragged edges and inspiring another pulse of fresh red. You studied his face as his lashes lifted open again to meet your eyes. It took you a moment to find your breath.

"I... need to close this," you breathed, tracing a featherlight and completely instinctive touch of reassurance over his intact skin near the wound. He chewed the inside of his lip.

"Do it."

Your belly fluttered at the low command, his eyes never wavering from your gaze. You swallowed. Standing slowly to bend over his abdomen, you studied the open section of the wound. The edges were relatively clean, and it didn't look like the blade had made it deep enough to hit anything vital. The bleeding was nasty though, despite your meticulous cleaning job. His skin here would naturally be taut over firm abdominal muscles, a high tension area, you noted. You’d need to place dermal sutures if you wanted them to hold. Your brow knitted in preemptive sympathy.

“This is going to hurt.” You muttered.

Well, perhaps that was obvious. But stitching up conscious patients was not exactly your area of expertise, so maybe in a way, you were preparing yourself more than him. You were surprised at how well you managed to withhold the tremor from your hands as you quickly cleaned the wound again. It steeled your resolve slightly.

You tossed the soaked gauze, and plucked a curved needle and sinewy thread from the sterile bag. You readied your hand over the cleansed wound and flashed your gaze up to Kylo Ren’s eyes, waiting for... well, you didn’t know. Any kind of final approval or declination, maybe. He said nothing, but his eyes burned you steadily as his jaw locked in place, making the tightness in your chest flutter and twist. Swallowing, you turned back to the half-closed gash. You quickly threaded the first set-back stitch with nimble precision, and tugged the edges closed.

Ren’s muscles locked up with a full-body grunt, and a broad hand shot up from where it lay on the bed to grip the inside curve of your thigh. A jolt leapt through your body, setting your heart at a wild pace. Surely that was just a reflex. Surely he would let go. Blinking, you tried to find the voice in your chest.

"You… you have to r-relax." It came out more breathless than you intended as you fumbled only slightly with tying and cutting the thread. You paused to steady yourself, ignoring how warm your skin felt under his hand. A deep breath rolled through the Supreme Leader, and to your utmost shock, his core slackened obediently.

His hand did not leave your thigh. You took a breath and forced yourself to continue, fingers curling to pierce and thread the next suture through the tender, deep layer of skin. A lower, longer vibration left Ren’s nose as his large fingers gripped tighter into the soft pillow of your flesh. Your breath came shallow as your brain ignited, trying not to file that noise away under the category of pleasure. No. Stop that. You refused to indulge the thought, or the warmth that it shot through your lower body, as you refocused on your work.

You fixed your eyes firmly on your target, not letting yourself meet his gaze again. The next few sutures were accompanied by sounds from Ren that you diligently ignored. If you acknowledged what they sounded like, your focus would be obliterated. It already half was. But the growing hum at the apex of your thighs could not be indulged, could not break your concentration, even if it was just above where his hand… Oh.

Oh.

His thumb traced the slowest line along the crease of your groin.

It was impossible not to notice the stiffness that was beginning to tent his pants, close to where your face hovered over his lower abdomen. A shiver caressed your spine at the sight, as all of the heat in your body began to gravitate to the heartbeat in your cunt. You swallowed thickly. Stars help you, the sight of him. Supreme Leader Kylo fucking Ren, laying underneath you, his cock getting hard as you caused him excruciating pain. And you… you fucking... liked it.

His hand shifted then, sliding upwards to press a single, precise stroke along the concealed line of your heat. “Oh-” The soft moan came unwillingly from the bottom of your chest, and you braced one hand out on the mattress as your knees turned to liquid. Your body responded so automatically that it made your head spin, your thighs shifting wider, inviting his touch. You could have passed out when he curled his hand to pet another slow stripe over your clothed slit.

Panting now, you lifted a pleading stare to meet his eyes. They were hooded black vats of desire, and your heart dropped right through your cervix as they drank you in. Your face tingled hot. Your brain wobbled along the line between finishing your task, and the primal need that was erupting through your belly. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

“Supreme Le-”

"Off." He interrupted lowly, pinching at the fabric of your pants. You weren't sure why you obeyed so fucking immediately, but before you could think, your thumbs were hooking into your waistband, and then you were stepping out of your boots, trousers, and underwear, kicking them carelessly across the floor. The tails of your white coat tickled your exposed skin as you positioned yourself back over his wound, wet cunt bared and leaking down your thighs. Cheeks burning with a heat that reached all the way down to your chest, you pointedly avoided his eyes. You tried to steady your hands, and you swore you could feel his gaze stoking a wildfire at your core. You swallowed, staring detachedly at your fingers.

No, the medic instinct in you wouldn’t allow you to leave your work half finished. If you had the wherewithal to think about it, you might have concluded that he knew this, but that didn’t mean he would hold back in making it as difficult as possible for you now that you were, well, in this state. Taking a breath, you threaded another stitch. This time he shamelessly groaned, and his fingers slipped easily through the silky heat of your slit. You gasped, almost doubling over again as you tied off the suture.

You finally looked at him. His nostrils were flared and his throat bobbed, as he watched his own long fingers collect the wetness that leaked from your core. Pleasure and shame waged war across your skin, and your knees went weak as he met your eyes again.

“Keep going,” he stated calmly, gesturing with only his eyes towards the wound that was now nearly shut.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eliciting a hiss of breath from the Supreme Leader as his fingers passed in a slow arc around the top of your stiff clit.

How you managed it, you had no idea, but in very little time you were looping the last thread over itself, tightening it, and cutting. You blinked, looking back along the neat line of sutures as Ren continued idly stroking at your slit, sending shocks down to your toes.

“D-done.” You stammered as you shuffled your supplies together and started to step back.

With a flash of rippling muscle, Ren sat up and captured the back of your neck, pulling you in just inches from the strong curve of his nose. Your materials clattered to the floor as your legs nearly buckled from the sudden weight of his proximity, his gaze pitching you in an inky black tide of lust.

“Gentle little thing,” he pondered, running a thumb under your jaw. Your lungs simply didn’t function any more, you decided, as heat chased the air from the bottom of your bronchioles and out into the space between you. “I’ve wondered about you.”

Your voice hiccuped dumbly in your chest. “Ab-bout me, S-supreme Lead- oh.” Your question hung unfinished from your slack jaw as the pad of his finger shifted wetly across your clit, shooting a liquid flame up your spine that burst in your brain.

“Mm,” he supplied in acknowledgement, his lust-blackened gaze all but swallowing you whole. “Such a pretty thing...” Heat flowered in your cheeks again. “So unassuming.” He slid two fingers down your slick folds towards your entrance, and the delicate stem of a whimper crawled from your throat.

“You want to let go.” He stated in a deep, near-whisper. “Don’t lie to yourself, officer, I can feel your need for it.” You shuddered. Absolutely you wanted to let go. You wanted to do a lot of things, but mostly anything that would elicit those sounds that he was making before, while you punctured his dermis with a curved fucking needle.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Your voice seemed far away in your own ears.

The hand around the back of your neck curled slowly until it tightened into the hair follicles at your nape, and the pinpricks sent a thrilling voltage through your nerves that made you gasp.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, the smallest hint at a smirk twitching on the corner of his mouth. “Your desires are far from innocuous.” The lust that thickened his voice had you clenching.

He held your hair tightly, the pain scraping down your spine and feeding heat into the coiling, writhing need that hummed above your thighs. He began to lean back and pull you with him, until you had to shuffle your knee onto the mattress to keep from falling. His hand abandoned the wet heat between your legs, and a solid arm slid impatiently around your waist instead, pulling your hips firmly over him until you straddled his lap on the generous cot.

The feeling of his clothed, straining cock nestling against your folds chased a whine over your lips, and Ren caught it in its tracks, drinking down the sound as his plush lips claimed your open mouth. Fire exploded through your body and your hands flew to his chest, sliding up over hot, bruised skin until your nails were dragging up his neck and into the inky softness of his hair. A deep growl quaked in his chest and his tongue slid greedily across the roof of your mouth, coaxing your jaw wider for him.

You felt his hands slide to grasp the lapels of your coat and yank them over your shoulders. With a thrill of excitement, you threw your arms back to allow him to shuck the garment roughly from your body. Your shirt followed over your head, forcing you to surface from the depths of the kiss with a vulgar wet sound. The second you were free, his massive hand trapped your wrists behind your back, and you gasped at the sudden feeling of immobility. Kylo Ren pinned you under his dark gaze, pulling your arms to arch your back and press your tits up towards him, his eyes devouring the bareness of you that he displayed for himself.

Then he lunged. His hot mouth latched into your neck and worked down to your chest, his strong grip arching you further until his lips pursed around your pebbled nipple. Your jaw fell open in a gasp as he slid his tongue across the bud and drew it between his teeth, pinching just hard enough to leave it aching, and mirrored the action on your other breast. He hummed as he moved back up to lick wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sliding along your skin until you felt hot breath flood the sensitive hollow of your ear.

“I wonder how you taste, pretty thing.”

The sound that left you was fucking obscene, his words dissolving every bone in your body. You instinctually ground down on his swollen cock, seeking pressure lest your cunt actually rupture with need.

He began to lay back, his hands releasing your wrists, and your strained muscles flooded with relief. Clutching your thighs, he pulled your hips insistently to follow his face back to the head of the cot. A nervous tremor wracked you as he guided your thighs over his shoulders, the realization crashing over you all at once. You were about to sit on the face of the most dangerous man in the fucking galaxy. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose to your mons, inhaling deeply and releasing a growling moan that vibrated right up your body.

A deep magenta bruise flowered his temple and cheekbone, decorating the seam where the flesh of your thigh now ended and his face began. Your core clenched in anxious anticipation, and he turned his face to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh. Remnants of fear were still paralyzing your chest, but the bolt of pain that flashed up your body pierced through it and into your brain for a moment of blissful clarity. You moaned as you suddenly registered just how much pulsing heat was settling inside your walls, aching now to be soothed by his tongue. He ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips, and he leveled a dark look up at you that liquefied your bones.

"Please…" you began to whisper.

In a flash, he took your hands and pinned them to the small of your back, then thrust his warm, flat tongue against your cunt with a low groan. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he licked a wide stroke up the length of your slit, parting your folds and dragging the flat of his tongue across your swollen nub. Tingling pleasure erupted through your lower body, the feeling of him warm and divine and utterly unbelievable. He moved slowly, almost lazily, lost in the taste and scent of you as he began to work that beautiful mouth over every inch of your cunt.

You shifted your hips in desperation, trying to ride his face and gain more friction on the ache that was coiling in your clit, but he locked your arms up roughly, immobilizing you with one of his huge hands around both of your wrists. You whined and he resumed his torturous pace, lapping at you indulgently, rolling his nose across your clit, building a hot pressure in your core that cried painfully for release.

When his lips finally pursed around your bud, his tongue sliding across it in a way that shot light behind your retinas, it was enough to send you reeling. “Oh, fuck-” you groaned as you felt your orgasm start to pull up tight and hot, your body desperately grasping at its relief. But then it was plateauing, ebbing, as he slowed and slid his silky tongue away from that epicenter of pleasure.

“No, pl-please, please--” you wailed as you felt your impending orgasm slip away down your spine.

Ignoring you, Ren closed his eyes and swallowed with a grunt, sucking down the arousal that had gushed from your entrance, and you felt it travel through his whole body as he went rigid. He shuddered in consummate pleasure then, and your brain suddenly shifted from grieving your denied orgasm to wondering where his other hand might be. You imagined it wrapped around his own cock, and the thought tightened heat around your spine.

You craned a glance over your shoulder, but the sight that met you paralyzed your brain. His cock was free of his trousers, beautifully hard and leaking a bead of precum onto his stomach, untouched. His fingers were instead plunged into the neat line of sutures that studded his low abdomen, fresh crimson welling around his pressure-whitened fingertips as his body trembled. A protest shot instinctively through your chest.

“Don’t-”

Two huge hands hooked over your thighs, smearing you with red, and yanked your ass back onto the warm, broad expanse of his chest, cutting off your objection with a breathy yelp. You had little time to bemoan the absence of his mouth at your center before your world was spinning, as Ren flipped you underneath him in a shockingly strong, fluid motion that inverted your senses.

You flailed an arm behind you for balance, but before you could get your bearings, he was hauling you effortlessly down the thin mattress by your hips. A squeak escaped you as your shoulders met linen, and then you were wailing as he devoured you again, his eager tongue sliding hot and heavily down your folds.

He groaned and slipped two blood-drenched fingers into you, pumping and scissoring them slowly as he massaged your clit with his mouth. Shock and pleasure quaked in equal magnitude through your body, every instinct clashing in a spectacular array as your brain fought against itself. You wanted to be horrified, sickened even, but every nerve ending was screaming in nothing but wretched liberation.

In a wash of euphoria, you submitted to it, let your fingers find and lock into his sweat-dampened hair, let yourself sigh and clench around his warm, wet digits as they stroked against something devastating inside of you. He built you up like this again, higher, tighter, but before you could reach the apex of that perfect ache, just when you were whimpering with the promise of shattering into bliss, something began to coil around your spine. An invisible force -- the Force -- squeezing dark numbness down every nerve below your lumbar spine.

No, no, fuck. Tears rushed to your eyes and you choked out a sob, as you trembled in excruciating bereavement. Your wrists were wrenched to your side and tacked to the bed with that same invisible power while Ren continued to indulge himself in your numb cunt, sucking and lapping steadily at your wet heat. Your insides blazed with need and neglect as you watched him slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he savored the mixture of his blood and your slick. That was it. You couldn’t keep quiet.

“Kylo, please-”

His eyes locked onto yours, lips still pursed around his fingers. You did not mean to call him that. You quailed suddenly, in your state of helplessness, at the sight of the large man as he began to crawl over you. He kicked off his trousers, looming until you were caged underneath his powerful body and staring helplessly up into the wicked excitement that roiled in his irises.

“Poor, poor thing,” He taunted as an electric current of sensation shot back down your legs, causing you to yelp. His hips rocked to part your slit with the velvety weight of his cock, his swollen and weeping head dragging moisture across your clit as it tingled with renewed feeling.

“So desperate to cum that you’d forget all respect for me.” The words dripped from his lips to pour over your neck as he nipped above your clavicle, seeping into your blood and heating it tenfold. He felt heavy and inviting and perfect, and you clutched your nails sharply into his sides as a crippling wave of need crashed down your spine. He hissed in a breath, letting it out in a nearly inaudible “Fuck.”

A tear spilled down your cheekbone. He was right, you were absolutely fucking desperate, coiled painfully tight after being ripped back from the edge twice. This was his particular brand of mutual torture, denying your release and losing himself in his pain. You needed to do something, anything, to fracture that infuriating, adamantine control. Anything to break the endless cycle of torment.

Your eyes were drawn down to a river of crimson that streaked into the valley of his hip, welling from the fresh spring of your sutures. A writhing, dark desire slithered up your brain stem, burning with some foreign audacity, and it moved your hand almost on its own. Fuck it, you could play this game, too.

“Please, Supreme Leader,” You corrected yourself, letting your voice thicken through your tears to a noxious sweetness. “I’ll do anything.”

Your palm slid to his low abdomen, collecting the warm blood with your thumb and sliding it back up towards the neatly closed wound. You slowly ran your slick digit along the raw edge, your breath catching in your chest as you flicked your gaze back to his eyes, just inches in front of yours. His lips hung open slightly, in disbelief, in want, it was impossible to say. But his pupils were blown wide and hungry as he stilled, the smallest twitch of his eye daring you, pleading you, to continue.

“Anything…” you emphasized in a whisper, holding his stare through your damp lashes as you pressed your thumb into the bruised, inflamed skin, crushing your finger straight into the raw nerves. You dug down, down, watching his lips slowly pull into a wild snarl of pain, his thick cock twitching against your folds as a ragged groan tore through his teeth. You were panting now, watching his eyes as they filled with liquid black fire, unblinking, burning through you.

Heart pounding, you pressed further, building a pinpoint of pressure over the closed wound until you felt the fine strand of a suture give way under the pad of your thumb, popping open with a soft shift of flesh. A choked roar ripped itself from Ren’s chest as his hand came down on your throat. His eyes were glazed with a terrifying need, inches from yours, strands of hair beginning to mat on his face as sweat decorated his skin.

His hips began to sink heavily. The head of his cock pushed past your folds, pressing insistently at the tight heat of your entrance. You whimpered, pulse racing under his grip, and braced your hand involuntarily against his abdomen as your walls began to stretch, the wet sting reverberating up your spine. Your eyes shot to his, pleading, but found them fiendish.

"You’re going to take all of me, pretty thing." His voice was barely above a ragged whisper, caged behind rusted bars of restraint that were slowly splintering across his eyes as he broke you open. “And you’re going to cum around my fucking cock when I tell you to.”

It was all you could do to simply whimper and nod, his words paired with the intense stretch effectively wiping your brain blank now. And the stretch kept coming, endlessly, filling you completely, until you thought you might crack in half. When he finally sheathed himself, his body flattened down heavily on top of you, pinning your hips wide open. You couldn’t move your hand, his sheer mass was crushing your thumb inside the wet, raised flesh of the wound as you felt it leak warmly around the base. A sound caught in Ren’s throat, and a shudder wracked his whole body.

He laid there for only a moment, crushing the air from your lungs, bathing in the pain, before he lifted his torso and began to thrust. Still slowly, still so controlled, breath rolling hot and rabid down your neck. You pulled your thumb from beneath his skin with a sickening squelch. Trembling, a morbid urge had you bringing the hand up to your mouth.

You moved to flick your tongue out over the warm, coppery liquid that was now coating your thumb and beginning to run down your forearm. In an instant, Ren snatched your wrist and pinned it beside your head. Something utterly feral played across his eyes that made your stomach squirm.

He panted through his teeth, eyes drifting across your face to the hand that he had pinned down. “You want a taste, whore?” His tone was somewhere between incredulous and eager, only fueling your desire to pry further at the seams of his restraint. You bit your bottom lip, lifting a pleading look into his eyes, and nodded with a whimper.

“Yes, please, ple-- Ah!” He slammed his cock into your cervix, making you cry out.

He snatched your wrist up with a grunt and enveloped your thumb with the heat of his mouth, swirling his strong, silky tongue around your knuckle to collect the liquid. Your head spun as he drew his lips up and off of your digit, slamming your wrist back down to the mattress and crushing his mouth to yours. His tongue pushed ravenously past the guard of your teeth, and your palette lit up with the sharp mix of metallic blood and the remnants of your cunt on his lips.

It was deafening, the rush that cascaded between your ears and crashed down your body at the visceral taste, the sensation of his hot tongue swiping across yours, passing the grotesque mixture back and forth. You moaned into his mouth and he shuddered, gripping your jaw muscles to force your mouth open as he drew away, resuming the rhythm of his thrusts. He spat a thick emulsion of blood and saliva into your open mouth before releasing your face, shoving your jaw closed with the heel of his palm. From this angle he could see your neck ripple as you swallowed, and the sight had him deepening his thrusts with a low groan.

Yes, yes, finally. His cock stroked fire along your walls, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll into your skull. Drunk from deprivation, you wanted more. You blindly reached down the contour of his obliques and drove your thumb back into his wound, finding the slight firmness of another suture and digging into his flesh until you felt a sinewy pop. Kylo Ren roared, his hips stuttering as his body locked up in a rippling wave of tension. Eyes wild, he gripped your throat again, yanking you roughly as your eyes flew open and met his.

“Fucking filthy slut.”

He slammed into you at a merciless pace, hurtling you past any possibility of orgasm and straight into overstimulation as your body burned around him. Your vision swam, your ears beginning to ring as he pounded you relentlessly. Blood struggled to reach your brain under his grip, building a pressure in your skull that made your face vibrate.

He slowed his pace suddenly, and heat sparked to the tips of your nerves again, alighting on every inch of your quivering skin and fuck, you were close. Oh, fuckfuckfuc--

“Cum. Cum for me. Fuck!”

Ren wildly snatched the cautery pen from where you left it on the bed stand, lit it, and plunged the glowing tines straight into the flesh of your thigh. White hot pain fractured your vision, locked every muscle down tight with a scream you couldn’t hear as your orgasm eviscerated you.

Breath stuttered back into your lungs in hazy, broken sobs. Euphoric pain was weeping from your nerves, flowing across your skin to rival the tears that now ran free and hot down your face while razorblades of pleasure still flayed your veins open. The ringing in your ears finally began to give way to low grunts breaking over the fragmented tide of your sobs.

“Good girl, g-ood, fuck-- shh... pretty fucking thing.” Ren’s deep murmurs faded into your eardrums, the words slurring and thickening through his teeth as he pried the tool from your sizzling flesh. He set it aside, pace unrelenting, and dragged a hand over your cheek. Sticky blood mixed with your tears as his fingers fastened into the flesh of your face. He watched your eyes come back into focus, his own glazed in primal rapture.

He propelled a few more slamming thrusts into the depths of you as the death throes of your orgasm withered on your skin. And then you were empty, gasping, and he was flipping you over so easily you didn’t know which way was up any more. Your breath was muffled by a pillow, and you turned your face just in time for a massive, dirty hand to come down on your cheekbone.

He crushed your face into the fabric, wrestling your hips upwards with his other forearm until your knees reluctantly shifted up to support them. You whimpered at the pressure on your skull and the throbbing pain that radiated from your thigh, but the sound deepened in your chest when you felt the blunt head of his cock graze along your swollen lips. Stars, you needed him to fill you in any way, your emptiness now entwining with your pain to send a cry of grief through your shuddering bones that could only be soothed by that voice, those hands, that perfectly thick cock in any part of you. Overcome, you moaned for it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, dragging his tip back and forth over your clit, adding skittering jolts to the ache that might as well be burning away your peritoneum like paper, causing your organs to pour out over the floor in gruesome mercy. He slid his hand back along the curve of your spine, releasing your face, and you gasped in the acrid taste of copper. His palms smothered your ass, fingers splaying wide and squeezing, pulling your cheeks up and apart for his view. It was filthy, the eroticism of it, but shame was a faraway song in the tempest of your need, barely heard as you clutched the sheets and arched in presentation for him. You heard a hissing intake of breath, which he let out in a slew of unintelligible filth as the fat head of his cock slowly split you again.

Even after just moments of vacancy you had to readjust to the size of him, but the stretch was utterly demulcent this time as he gradually sheathed himself in your aching walls until his head was grinding down against your cervix. Your eyes flew wide with a gasp as you clawed the sheet, streaking it redder, willing your body to relax around the merciless presence of his cock. He pumped his hips once, slowly, powerfully, and your eyes rolled back again as your muscles turned to warm jelly.

“Kylo…” You barely heard yourself moan out, and you had no idea whether he heard you either, as a loud groan suddenly kicked up his pace and the decibels of his rambling.

“Ffffuuck, feel sofuckinggood, so tight…. fucking perfect little cunt…”

You could die, you could actually fucking die from how it felt to lose yourself in this, how possessed you were by the repulsive freedom of it, of him, spitting filthy nothings into the thick air while you entwined yourselves in the dirty rut of shameless pleasure and pain.

You felt hot liquid trickle into the seam between your flesh and Ren’s with the next few smacks of his hips against your ass. His pace faltered, and he fell over you like a snarling carnivore, palms slamming down on the backs of your hands and pinning them beside your head. His breath tickled hot in your ear, and you shuddered, clenching around him.

“I’m going to make you cum again.” He snarled, before yanking you back sharply by your hair until you were nearly upright on your knees, your shoulder blades meeting the warmth of his chest. You caught a flash of blood-coated fingers as they reached around you and began to rub hot, wet circles over your clit.

“Like the filthy fucking whore you are. That I- fuck- knew you were.”

Your muscles gave out as he spoke, your body supported only by his overbearing strength, as euphoria wrapped your nerve endings in white flame. You were keening, though you could hardly hear yourself, as the pressure on your clit started to pull a second orgasm outward from your bones.

His hips pounded ruthlessly against your ass as he brutally fucked you, the force of it knocking air from your lungs with every impact. A glow began to erupt from your spine with the next few passes of his fingers over your clit, and then you were cumming, hard, sailing into an abyss of ecstasy that swallowed your sight. When you resurfaced he was roaring, his arm a vice around your ribs, his cock slamming deep and slow inside of your quaking walls and pulsing with his release.

Ren collapsed on top of you, flattening you into the mattress. Dizziness swam through your blood, intensified by his weight crushing your lungs. He felt warm, sated, absolutely sublime as your spent hole fluttered around his cock, the sensation of his damp breaths on your shoulder easily overriding your need for oxygen. You were perfectly content to lay like this until you blacked out, if that’s what it would take to keep him there.

But then he was rolling off of you, a soft groan rumbling through his body as the cold air of the room kissed the sweat on your spine. It sobered you like an ice bath and you shifted away from him, suddenly feeling the weight of a needed distance between yourself and the Supreme Leader. You dropped your legs to the floor to stand, and pain ricocheted up your body from your thigh. You winced as your leg buckled in a blatant refusal to support your weight, catching yourself on the edge of the bed frame.

You instead sank back onto the small stool, and felt it become slick with cum as you grabbed wads of gauze from a drawer in the bed stand. Blood was gushing from his abdomen again, joining the sheen of bright red that mottled most of his skin as well as the sheets, and you began to work mechanically to staunch the flow once more. Kylo shifted onto his back and let you do it, his eyes falling shut as panting breaths oscillated through his chest. You were filthy, you registered, as you looked down at the red-brown crust of half dried blood that was smeared on your hands and all the way up your forearms.

You gently dabbed at his skin, slowly cleansing the mess and wrangling the bleeding back under your practiced control. The edges of your skin practically cried out in neglect, the dull pain that thrummed through your body begging to be soothed by even the smallest of tender touches that you didn’t dare ask for. The pain seemed to catch up to him as well now. He breathed through it, but you saw it lock up in his exhales, in the tense pull of his brow over his dark lashes. You let the pass of his skin under your palms soothe you both until his bare skin glowed clean and the bleeding was no more than a steady trickle.

Staring at his comparatively clean body under your blood-crusted hands, you suddenly felt disgustingly exposed in your nakedness. You stooped quickly to grab the leg of your pants where they lay on the floor, but Ren’s hand gripped your arm roughly, yanking your elbow back onto the stained mattress.

"Oh, pretty thing.” He growled. “We're not finished, yet."

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo ren smut #kylo x reader #star wars fanfiction #smut #darkfic #innocuous #my works #this was incredibly exhausting and challenging to write #i would love any and all feedback #masterlist

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arminbitchlover · 3 years

Text

the moon is beautiful, isn't it? (1)

pairing: connie springer x gn! reader

content warnings: mention of vomit, blood, angst, & death

summary: chapter 138 spoilers / you and connie have been in love for years, falling for each other at the exact same moments. one night, connie tries to hint his feelings towards you on top of utgard's castle, but you don't catch it, so connie shrugs it off. a few years later, during the rumbling, connie decides that it's finally time to admit how he feels.

song recommendations : the swans by: camille saint-saëns, gymnopédie no. 1 by: erik satie, nocturne no. 2 in e flat op.9 no. 2 by: frédéric chopin, and mia and sebastian's theme by: justin hurwitz

word count 4.1k

DO NOT POST/SHARE ANY PART OF MY WORK ON TIKTOK

This is the end.

You lay on the stone floor atop Utgard castle, gazing at the stars while reminiscing on all the memories you made with your friends.

Everything is becoming too much for you; nobody knows how titans are infiltrating the walls if there's no breach, you still have no idea where Eren, Mikasa, and Armin are, and now you're left with no ODM gear to fight in case titans were to take over your refuge.

You feel completely utterly useless.

"It was a good run," You mutter to yourself, feeling the lump in your throat get stronger.

You're not ready to give it all up, your life as a scout was just about to begin. You've met so many people that mean so much to you, especially him.

You won't ever forget when you first met him; Sasha introduced him as her bestfriend and you instantly fell in love with everything about him; his eyes, his voice, his laugh, and his sense of humor, just everything about him is absolutely perfect.

You continue your search for constellations amongst the stars, trying to distract your mind from the harsh reality.

"Hey." You hear a voice come from the door and you turn to have your eyes meet with golden brown orbs.

It's him.

"Connie." You sit up, moving your legs close to your chest with your jacket spread across them.

You feel your face start to heat up as he gets closer to you. You could never understand why he has such an effect on you, he could do the slightest thing and your heart will always skip a beat.

"Mind if I sit?" He walks towards you, one of his hands scratching the back of his neck.

"Be my guest." You gesture on the empty spot next to you, feeling your heartbeat start to quicken as you immediately catch his scent while he settles in next to you.

You glance down and see that your hands are only an inch maybe centimeters apart; god, how bad you wanted to hold it to make you feel better. You look back up, worried that he may have seen but notice that his gaze is fixated on the stars.

"Beautiful, right?" You move your focus back to the night sky.

Almost as beautiful as him.

"Sure beats this shithole," He chuckles.

"Yeah, it sure does..." You trail off, looking back down to the floor while fidgeting with your fingers.

Silence thickens between the two of you, but not the awkward kind when nobody knows what to say, rather the kind that just wants to savor each other's presence. You enjoy it, worried that if you were to say something you might burst into tears from panic, anger, confusion, and sadness.

“...Christa told me you were up here.” He turns to you, sharing a sympathetic look.

“Yeah, I- um told her I would spend some time here for a bit before sleeping.” You take in a deep breath and rub the back of your neck.

You didn't dare overload Connie with your feelings. It wasn't because you thought he would shove them under the rug or tell you to suck it up, but you were fully aware what he was going through as well.

“We’re going to be okay, you know.” He reads you like a book, seeing through your calm demeanor and knowing you were just a ball of anxiety ready to burst at any moment.

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"We're going to be okay, you know." Connie laughs, helping you undo your ODM gear.

"Ugh, I wish! This training will be the death of me, I swear." You giggle and place your gear on the table.

You love the way he makes you smile. Even when your body is on the verge of extreme fatigue and exhaustion, he somehow always made you feel a bit better about the whole situation.

"If it makes you feel any better, we're finally having a hot dinner." He places his gear next to yours and you both walk to the dining room.

"As great as that does sound, I just need to get this gunk and sweat off of me." You feel disgusted with yourself, thinking about the number of hours you spent outdoors in the heat.

"Yeah that too, you smell like a Titan just threw up on you," He playfully jokes, already speeding up his pace as he knows what's about to come next.

"Asshole!" You laugh and chase him down the hall.

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It was strange, you could be on opposite sides of the world, but he always knows if something was bothering you, like an invisible tether always kept the two of you in sync.

“You don't know that, Connie.” Your eyes start to get glossy, looking back up to try and hold back your tears.

You can't understand why everything in your life has to end up so shitty. For once you just want to save lives and be the hero that everyone needed after the Shiganshina incident, but you can't even do that.

“Y/n.” He scoots closer to you, gently pulling your head to his chest as he lightly traces your back.

You hold your breath and become stiff as you hear Connie’s heartbeat. Fuck, you'll never get used to this, no matter how many times it happens. Having him comfort you when everything was going wrong and assuring you not to worry and that it was all going to work out, made you forget all your problems for a moment.

"No regrets though, right?" He lightens up the mood with an inside joke.

"No regrets." You smile and feel yourself melt into his embrace.

You love the way he makes you feel, whether you're upset, sad, frustrated, or maybe just hungry, he always finds a way to make your day not so shitty.

“Why are you doing this?” You ask while you bury your head into his chest, feeling like this is too good to be true.

You feel his chest stop moving and his arm stay still. Silence once again takes over and lingers in the air.

"I mean, after what you found out about your family, I-" He cuts you off.

“I… just really care about you.” And he isn’t lying, he cares about you more than you could imagine.

What you didn't know was that he has been in love with you ever since the day Sasha introduced you as a member of her training squad. He adores everything about you: your voice, your lips, the way your eyes lit up when you ramble about things you're passionate about, and your wits, just everything about you is absolutely perfect.

It didn't take him long to realize he had fallen head over heels for you months ago, but he couldn't tell you. There's no possible way in his eyes for everything to work out if he tells you. He knows the risks of everyone’s lives when it comes to being a scout. He can't bear the thought of becoming more attached to you than he already is and know that he might not have you the next day.

“I care about you too.” You hide your wide grin, relishing this moment for as long as you could.

“Y-You do?” Connie chokes, causing you to pull away and make eye contact.

“Of course I do, why wouldn't I?” You immediately inhale a sharp breath, scared that you may have said something wrong.

‘I need to do it now.’ Connie’s thoughts start to cloud his mind. ‘If this is it, I need her to know.’

“I just… I don't know. Forget it.” He opens up his arm again, inviting you back into his chest.

You brush it off, not wanting to ruin what you already have, and lean back into him. You start copying his breathing, finding comfort that you never thought you would never find again.

You close your eyes for bit, trying your best to memorize everything in the moment. The material of his shirt, his warm skin against yours, the light breeze that hits your face, everything.

“The uh- the moon is beautiful, isn't it?” He quietly stammers, and you immediately feel his heartbeat begin to pound and so does yours.

It can't be.

You know exactly what that means, but does he? Was he just saying that because the full moon that illuminates the hills genuinely looks beautiful? He has to be, right? This night was already beginning to feel like a dream, there’s no way he means what you want it to.

“Yeah, I guess.” You wince as you hear the words fall from your mouth.

You sit in silence yet again, but this time filled with unwanted tension. While your head is spinning with a million thoughts, Connie can't help but feel anger with himself. Why couldn't he just come out and say it? Did you not know what he meant or did you really just reject him?

"It's getting a bit cold, so I'm gonna head inside. You coming?" You put on your jacket, avoiding eye contact to hide the tears that were on the verge of falling down your face.

"Nah, I'm going to um- stay up here a bit." He clears his throat and kees his gaze fixated to the moon.

"Oh alright, well goodnight, Connie." You weakly smile and walk away.

"Goodnight, y/n." He whispers, not loud enough for you to hear.

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chapter 138 spoilers

"Y/n, we need to go get Armin, now." Mikasa snaps you out of your thoughts.

"But Connie? He has to be near here somewhere, I-I just know it." Panic sinks in as you scan through the battle of the titan shifters to find your lover.

"Y/N SNAP OUT OF IT!" You slightly jump and turn to her, her face becoming flushed with red.

"Sh- Sorry, right, Armin." You shake your head, covering Mikasa as she makes her way towards the pig-type titan.

It's been 4 years ever since that night on Utgard's castle and you remember every second of it. A day never went by when you didn't think back to that moment and wonder what could've been if you had said something different, but you couldn't and you hate yourself for that.

Nothing changed between the two of you, if anything you feel a lot closer than before. You or Connie never address that night, as if it never happened, and you were somewhat fine with that. It hurts that your gut feeling of him not having feelings for you was accurate, but that's okay, because you would always still have him by your side even if it was just a close friendship.

"Y/N!" You look behind you and see him coming at you at full speed.

"CONNIE!" You feel a bit of weight being lifted off your shoulders, seeing only one visible injury.

He joins you side by side to defend Mikasa, noticing the number of titan shifters making their way towards you was too much for you to handle.

"Are you okay?" Connie defends you as you briskly check the state of your weapons.

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"Are you okay?" Connie rushes to your side, inspecting the cut on your cheek.

"Yeah, I just have to be more careful with the branches." You wince as you feel his finger graze your injury.

"Well, we're definitely not racing anymore." He looks into your eyes and smiles.

"You're just saying that cause you know I'm better with ODM gear." You giggle and get back up, brushing off the dirt that caught on your equipment.

"You wish!" He blasts off, not giving you a chance to ready up again.

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"MIKASA HURRY!" Your anxiety starts rushing through you, ignoring Connie's question as you notice your blades were on the verge of giving out.

You see her make a quick glance towards you before zooming towards the titan that trapped Armin and quickly slices his jaw open. Before you know it, you see Connie soar in your peripheral vision to the tongue that entangled Armin and slice him free.

"ANNIE!" Connie screams out, making his way back to you and wrapping his arm around your waist.

You feel the tiny butterflies you always get when he's near you and admire his perfections for a second.

"I'm getting us out of here," He assures you as he looks into your eyes, instantly melting all the worry and panic that stirred up inside you.

"O-Okay." You whisper, the wind harshly hitting your face as Connie moves both of you to the top of Eren's titan, getting Falco's attention.

While Falco flies his way towards you, you gaze upon everything that is going on around you. You start feeling overwhelmed again, too much was going on at once. You see Jean and Pieck trying to make their way towards the Founding Titan's head but get trampled by shifters, Annie holding Armin as he recovers, and Levi and Gabi shooting their gun at every titan.

"What is- is happening?" Your voice cracks and you hang your head low with your eyes shut.

"We should've fucking known ever since Eren decided to infiltrate Marley, but it's okay. We're okay." He gives you a weak smile and a slight squeeze on your waist for reassurance.

Falco reaches the both of you and board his back with Levi and Gabi.

"Are you guys okay?" You can slightly hear the concern in Levi's monotone voice.

"Yeah, we're fine," Connie answers, completely disregarding the gash that was dripping blood on his forehead.

"We need to help Jean and Pieck." You chime in, watching them struggle their way to the neck.

"No, we-" Levi cuts himself off when he hears his name being called out by a familiar male voice.

The five of you see a blonde man with only half a body attached to one of the Founding Titan's ribs.

Zeke.

While you see his lips moving, you can't make out what he's saying. He begins waving around his arms, successfully capturing Levi's attention, but in a blink of an eye, he's dead.

Levi decapitated him.

You hear a slight gasp come from Gabi's mouth and immediately see tears start to swell up. You quickly pull her into a hug, rubbing her back as you try to soothe her.

"It's okay, Gabi. We're okay." You whisper in her ear, slightly rocking back and forth.

While you didn't know or care for Zeke much, you know how much Gabi saw him as another father, an uncle.

"I-I need my- my parents." She hiccups into your chest.

You can't imagine what's going through her mind. All of her plans to become a warrior and making her family proud was all gone. You remember what that felt like, thinking throughout your whole life that titans were your enemy and Eren would be the solution for it all, but you couldn't have been more wrong.

"I promise, I'll get them to you." You bury her head into your chest and stay still, forgetting where you are for a second.

You and Gabi share a weird relationship, especially after everything that happened with Sasha, but you were somewhat like the older sibling she never had. You nurture her when things become too overwhelming or when she was worried someone would kill Falco for her doing. It was strange for you at first, caring for someone who you thought was the enemy, but was really just a twelve year old girl who was taught the wrong things, all to be treated as a 'good Eldian'.

"The- The rumbling stopped." You turn to Connie and furrow your eyebrows.

"Wha-"

"He's right, look." Gabi points to the titans that were completely still in place, but the titan shifters were still moving in battle.

Bizarre.

"JEAN! PIECK! GO!" Levi's yell snaps you out of your thoughts, watching him fly back to Falco's titan.

You feel your heart start to pound and chest begin to tighten. This is the moment that would define the rest of your life. If Jean and Pieck weren't successful, then there's nothing left for you. Everything you and the scouts worked for would be done, ruined, over.

"God, let Jean be okay." You hear Connie mumble under his breath.

"He will." You instinctively grab his hand and give him a slight nod.

He nods back and you both turn back and watch Jean soar to the head with the TNT box. You feel him squeeze your hand, becoming more anxious as seconds passed.

"STUPID LITTLE SUICIDAL BLOCKHEAD," Jean screams at the top of his lungs, before setting off the bomb that decapitated the Founding Titan's head.

You keep your eyes on Jean, making sure that nothing is seriously wrong and to your relief, he's unharmed.

"JEAN," Connie cries out, tears streaming down his face from alleviation.

He immediately pulls you in for a hug, causing your face to start heating up. While this wasn't the first time you and Connie hugged, it always makes you feel like it's your first all over again. You wrap your arms around him, savoring this moment for what thankfully feels like an eternity. You feel his body heat radiate against yours, warming you up from the cold winds that coat you.

In the corner of your eye, you see Reiner struggling with the cord that connects with the Founding Titan's head. Wrapping his arms and slamming it to the base of the ribcage, holding it down for as long as possible.

"Shit, it's going back for the head. ARMIN, NOW," Levi commands, stirring Falco to Jean and Pieck.

God you hate what's about to come next. The loud noise, the bright light, the endless destruction that's always created, and the lost lives were things you loathe to witness.

"JEAN! PIECK! ARMIN'S GOING TO BLOW THESE BONES TO PIECES! WE NEED TO GET AWAY QUICK!" Connie reaches his hand out, pulling both of them onto Falco's back as Annie and Mikasa make their way as well.

"But Reiner-" Pieck cuts Jean off.

"The Armored Titan should be able to withstand the Colossal Titan's explosion. And most of all, Reiner's prepared for the consequences."

Her words feel like a stab in the chest to everyone listening. Even though Reiner was a traitor in the beginning of this mess, it doesn't take away the great memories you made with everyone and the thought of maybe losing him too was a lot to take in.

"She's right, Jean. We need to go." You put a hand on his shoulder, trying to give him some type of support as you hope that your words help you too.

"Y-Yeah, of course." He slightly shakes his head as Falco flies away.

While you're hundreds of feet in the air, all of your eyes are glued to the titan shifters, watching Armin's explosion destroy everything in its way, including the monsters that fought you and your friends. Although the sight wasn't pleasant in the slightest, you can't help but notice the pit that you had in your stomach was gone.

"Is this it?" You weakly smile, feelings of ease and nervousness begin to overpower everything else.

You haven't felt this much hope in years. The deaths of your fallen comrades weren't in vain; it meant something now.

"See, I told you we would be okay, y/n." He wrapped his arms around your shoulders, leaning his head against yours.

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"See, I told you we would be okay, y/n." Connie grins as you put on your new Survey Corps jacket.

"Geez, I never thought I would ever see the day." You admire yourself, not knowing that Connie's doing the same thing.

You feel nothing but excitement when the leather hits your skin. All the hours, blood, sweat, and tears you put into your training was all worth it. You can finally be the hero you've always wanted to be.

"Well, here we are." He lightly pats your back and chuckles.

"Yeah, here we are." You hand him his new jacket and admire how great he looks as a new scout.

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"You're always right," You giggle, snaking your arms around his waist and holding him a bit too tightly.

You both bask in each other's presence, enjoying the thought of planning out your new future. As you close your eyes and enjoy the breeze, Connie can't help but adore how perfect you look in his arms. Every time you share a moment like this, he can't help but get flashbacks from that night. He knows how badly he messed up, he should've just straightforwardly said what he always wants to confess to you but he couldn't and he hates himself for that.

He can't recall what number this was for all the times both of your lives were at risk. The times he would forget what his mission was and sought out for you if he lost sight of you. It always takes him back to the same thought, 'You have to tell them before the day comes that you can't.' It's an ongoing battle with his mind and he always comes back to the same conclusion, 'I can't get more attached, not if there's a possibility I could lose them tomorrow.'

But no, this time he feels different, he senses that something's different about this. He suddenly feels queasiness and pulls away from you. 'No, no more hiding it.'

"Is everything okay, Connie?" You feel his body tense up as you give him a concerned look.

"No, it's not, y/n, I've been needing to tell you something, for a while now actually." He scratches the back of his neck and avoids making eye contact.

"What's wrong..?" You trail off, having your mind go a million miles per hour.

"Nothing- Nothing terrible but, y/n-"

"MY PARENTS," Gabi yells out, pointing at the crowd below you.

You and Connie snap out of your conversation, leaning over to the side and see a group of people staring up at Falco.

He lands his titan and Gabi immediately flees into the arms of her parents, Pieck doing the same with her father. You can't help but feel a bit of happiness after all of this, Jean stopped the rumbling, Armin killed off Eren, and all the people you love are safe from this never-ending war.

"We did the right thing, didn't we? I mean with what we did to Eren." You change your focus back to Connie.

"Of course we did, look at the amount of lives we saved, y/n. So, no regrets, right?" He playfully collides his shoulder with yours.

"No regrets." You smile and make your way towards Jean.

Your heart always skips a beat when he says that, you think of it as your own little thing that only you two share. Every time you feel like everything in your life is going wrong, he always reminds you that even if things were to go to shit it would be okay because you have no regrets.

"Can't believe I did that," Jean mumbles, still in a state of shock.

"You did what you had to, Jean." You console him as Connie chimes in.

"Don't bring yourself down, Eren brought this among himself."

You can never forgive Eren for what did over the years. It was apparent from the beginning, but you were to naive and filled with hope to see it. Now, this is different, you lost some of the most important people in your life for his doing. There's no going back from that.

"Y-Yeah, you're right." He brings the two of you in for a group hug, leaving a space in the middle for Sasha.

"She would be proud of us, you know?" You feel a tear run down your cheek as you speak.

Fuck, you miss her so much. All the fun and stupid memories you made with her flash through your mind. All the way back to your first moments meeting her, Connie holding her back from eating all the meat during dinner; to your final moments together, cheering for a successful raid on Liberio.

"She is." Connie corrects you, a smile forms across his face.

"Yeah, she is." Jean starts tearing up, grateful for another day to be alive.

"REINER," Gabi screams, causing the three of you to interrupt your moment and go by the ledge and see something you never thought you would.

You see the centipede that Jean exploded continue to move as if nothing ever affected it. Luckily, Reiner and Armin's titans look unharmed, but you immediately feel the pit in your stomach start to come back.

"See Gabi, he's fine, ever-" Connie gets cut off by another extreme explosion.

You feel nauseous as you see what emerges.

"He-He's alive?" Your voice trembles, all the hope and happiness you just shared obliviates in a second.

Eren's titan.

"No way." Connie gasps, his body starts to shake with fear.

"What do we do now?" Mikasa's voice cracks, wanting everything to come to an end.

You can't believe it. Every fucking time you think that everything will finally work out for you, something always changes. You always end up losing someone, witnessing things that no one should ever be forced to see, and always feel empty in the end.

"We can't let Eren come into contact with the shining thing! Who knows what'll happen!" Gabi tries to pull everyone's focus back into the war and luckily, it works.

"She's right, we have to kill that thing, no matter what." Connie's voice becoming slightly deeper at the end of his sentence.

"Don't you get it? How can we kill a thing that survived Armin's explosion? We need to go for Eren." Levi's command lingers in the air.

"There has to be another way. AGH!" Mikasa starts gasping for air as she starts tightly gripping her head.

Before you could go by Mikasa's side, you notice smoke coming from afar. You don't think much of it, just assuming it was debris from the explosion, but no.

You scan everyone's faces, instantly seeing some of your comrades faces turn into pure terror. This couldn't be what they think it is. This isn't how it's supposed it, how it's supposed to end. It has to be some kind of machine malfunction that's just giving out tons of smoke. It has to be something else than the thing you fear most.

"Isn't this smoke the same thing they did.. at Ragako?" Connie's face becomes overwhelmed with horror and anguish.

"N-No..." You fall to your knees and bury your hands to your face, not being able to come to terms with what's going to happen next.

This is the end.

"Hey, Hey, look at me." Connie's voice never sounding so calm before.

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"Hey, Hey, look at me." Connie wraps his arms around you as tears cascade down your cheeks and soak his shirt.

"Wh- Why her?" You hiccup, feeling your chest begin to tighten and your head spin from hours of crying.

Your best friend's dead.

You can't hug her anymore, tell her any scouts gossip, or scold her when she stole your food. You can't go to her room in the middle of the night and have her comfort you when your nightmares felt too real. She's gone, forever.

"I wish I had an answer for you... shit-" He starts breaking down right in front of you, both of you begin to cry in each other's arms.

You hate this, fucking hate this. You've dealt with the deaths of your squad members and scouts but nothing like the way you feel right now.

You need to escape, you need to get rid of these awful feelings that were eating you up inside, but no matter how much you may want to escape this shithole with the only person you love, you can't.

"B-But we still have each other, right?" Connie's voice trembles, his grip becoming tighter, thinking if he lets go he'll somehow lose you too.

"Always."

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He grabs your chin and leaves your faces just inches apart. All of the yelling and cries drown out as you solely focus on your soulmate.

"No regrets, right?" He wipes your tears away with his thumb.

"No regrets." You barely let a whisper, savoring his embrace one last time.

You feel a hand touch your shoulder and you look up to see Jean, seemingly relaxed.

"So this is how it ends for us." Connie brings Jean into your hug.

"Guess so," Jean replies, acting as if this wasn't the end.

"You know I blame both of you for all this, making me end up with the job of saving humanity." You joke, making the most of your final moment with your best friends.

"Yeah yeah, and take that to your grave." Jean chuckles as he slightly squeezes Connie's shoulder.

Connie glances Jean a confused look, seemingly not aware of the next few seconds. Immediately his eyes widen, finally accepting that this was it for you and him, and he never got to tell you.

"Y/n, there's something I need to tell b-before this is all over. Something I-I should've told you years ago." He speeds up his words, slightly stumbling.

"Yes?" Your heart drops to your stomach and you can't help but wonder if he was going to tell you what you've been waiting for since the day you met him.

"Y/n I-"

a/n : yes, i took some direct quotes from 138 & yes, i switched up dialogue between characters and actions from the book to make more sense with the reader.

#tw: death #aot chapter 138 #aot spoilers #snk spoilers #snk chapter 138 #connie springer x reader #connie springer #aot x gn!reader #attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #connie springer x gn! reader #tw: blood #aot x reader

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sooniesspot · 3 years

Text

Fluff Drabbles

☁️ Yoongi Fluff ☁️

warnings: poetically implied smut, slight Angst. Longing. Lil sprinkle of heartache and hopelessness.

word count 2.4k

A/N: Im purely publishing this on the notion that when sending this to my bestie @countingyoongis it made her "flip the soul she doesn't have" thought that was good enough reason. Anyways, enjoy!

“I’ll be here, waiting.”

Maybe it was the way you watched the world go by. Maybe it was the way you missed your family. A life constantly on the road never faired well for you. Sure, for him a decade on the road doing a job he loved with his best friends, never seemed to phase him. But countless birthdays and Christmases were missed, your family opening presents without you. You missed hearing your brothers argue about making your mother her tea. Your mothers laugh at the way your family dog would spin in circles; excitement racing through their body. Your friends who yearned for your company. Dissipated into the background that was your blurry life, travelling the world with the love of your life.

You felt empty when you were alone lately. Finding little joy in the things you used to. Plants withered and games unplayed; kept in boxes for you to deal with another time. The moments spent with him were the best moments of your life. The realest moments you could ask for. Sleepy flights where he would curl up into your side, cheeks rising like bread and heavy eyes as he mumbled incoherently to you. Moments you watched him on stage, giving his all. Even after injuries, falls, criticisms. You loved him all the while.

Even in the moments of early morning, before the sun graced the sky, you’d sit in silence, alone with your thoughts. Unable to find sleep while your boyfriend was counting sheep; mouth slightly agape with the odd snore. Sleeping in the foetal position as steadily moving hands without rhythm or agenda; fumbled through the sheets to find you. Interrupting your thoughts. You watching the world go by through a microscopic lens. Before he was pulling you against him and lulling you to a welcomed sleep.

Tours of Europe. Sight seeing under hidden cloak of masks and guards. The Eiffel Tower standing in prominence around a large garden park. Unable to hold him like you wanted to or to take that cliché photo of a stolen kiss in the foreground. The Temple of Zeus, looking out over the mountain top to the streets of Athens below at sunset. Casting oranges, purples and golds into the sky. Spending the moment together, but not how you wanted. Not how you craved. Walking the streets of Amsterdam, admiring the flowing water of the river Amstel. Bicycles with tinkling bells that adorned your ears. Quiet. Quaint. Light touches and feeble displays of watered-down affection. Pretending to be, nothing but friends. It was hard. There was no doubt. Being the secret girlfriend of one of the most famous K-pop idols in the world was gruelling; heart wrenching. Wanting just to be. Without stolen glances or whispers. To be with one another, regardless of consequence.

But in the night, when pretence of ‘just friends’ was disregarded; Thrown within piles of discarded clothes. He would hold you in exhilarating ways. Making your heart stop and run as if in tandem. On repeat. Forever. Light touches no longer feather like as strong hands smoothed hair from your face and lips connected with yours in passion so fierce your lips would pray to bleed. Pray to crumble apart under the sheer pressure. The weight of his own, cracked; against yours. Wanton and excruciating. Muffled groans of your name whittled into your skin as you would cry for him. In ways one could only imagine. Pressed against you so your skin would suffocate in his own. Hands held with dedicated influence as bodies mould as one.

But after all was done. Sweat cold to the touch as tangles of limbs tangled their way into crisp white hotel sheets instead. Held in the moment. Not wanting to let you go. Hands spearing through your hair as eyes glassy, stared deep into your soul. No words were uttered, only breath shared. Moments like this is what you cherished. Wistfulness overwhelming you. There was nowhere else in the world you would rather be. From the deepest depths of your heart, your soul belonged to him and him only. Though your mind; a woeful friend in your darkest moments and a constant shadow in joy, would often voice its unwanted thoughts of whether this was enough. Whether it was enough to live happily with him, but irrevocably without him. Happily in secret. But were you happy?

Never one to brandish your personal life on the highest billboards. A secret life seemed fine to you. But as time went on and appreciation was questioned. Affection shunted into the darkness. Your thoughts wandered into the unholy depths of your hell. A rabbit warren of twists and tunnels. Doubt. Jealousy. Questions of Self-worth. These thoughts followed you to every concert, as he would look out to see thousands of adoring fans. A gloomy cloud that hung over you. Over every cup of coffee, a faltering smile. Clawing at your chest in small bursts as you found yourself awake. Again. Silence for everyone but you as the warren would flood with hopelessness.

It was then he found you that morning. Light not even breaching the horizon as you sat, gazing into nothingness. The void that was your heart. Wholly consumed by him and the fear of losing him. The fear of him drifting away like the cherry blossoms floating along the river Amstel. A cursory touch found your restless form in the early hours. An incoherent mumble of your name as sleep filled eyes fluttered open delicately to look vacantly at you. Engaged with the sudden knowledge of your dazed state.

“Tink.” He mumbled. Affectionate nickname travelling through sheets to greet your troubled form.

“You’re awake?” he would ask.

You hummed non committedly as he shuffled closer to you. Hands on your thigh soothingly. In comfort as his dreary eyes assessed you. Planting one kiss on your thigh. Then a second. The lip-smacking sound donned with nothing but tenderness and contentment.

“What’s up? Tell me.”

No pretences could be grasped at here. No excuses as to why you looked sullenly into his eyes, shaking with contained emotions. He grabbed your small hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly; urging you to go on. You mustered every bit of strength within you to ask the question that toppled from your lips moments later and once you had, you realised everything would be brought to light and you could no longer hide in the shadows; the deepest caverns of your desires.

“Do you love me?”

Silence befell the room, his brows furrowed as he forced himself to sit up in front of you. Hand still in yours, unwavering; constant. A reminder of your tether to him.

“Of course I do, you know I love you. More than anything.” He mumbled, his hand smoothing over your messed head of hair.

Fingers placed on your jaw as his thumb soothed circles on your cheek. A kiss placed delicately, full of purpose on your forehead. Looking back into your hooded eyes as he ran his other thumb along your knuckles. Only your breathing could be heard within the room. Both calm and collected although, in the way that he looked at you, mirroring your upset. You felt yourself gasping for breath.

“Do you not feel loved?”

The words crumbled your refrain from showing your emotions. A rogue tear had slipped from your eye and he effortlessly caught it with the pad of his thumb. A small whimper sounded from your lips before you were enveloped into his arms. No words said as he held you. Held you until the world stopped spinning and everything stopped being overwhelming. Your face resting in the crook of his neck, his scent that brought you solace. Peeled oranges and coffee on a rainy Sunday morning. Keeping you calm as he held you in silence. His grip tight on you as if you would slip away, never to be found again.

A mumble of words. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m so sorry.”

Silence.

“Please stay.”

Your heart broke at hearing his words. Hearing his silent worry for you. The same worry you had been holding in for months. Lingering at every grace of his hand. Every kiss. Would it be the last time you would feel his lips against yours? The last touch? The last time you’d see his endearing smile; all gums and not much else. All the while he felt the same. Fleeting glances your way to make sure you were still with him. By his side. Would it be the last time he could run his fingers through your hair? The last kiss pressed to your skin in the dark of the night? He craved all that was you in every waking moment. In his sleep he would hold you close to him like his most prized possession. He pushed everyone away apart from the boys and you. You stayed. You stayed for him. Now he felt everything falling apart.

Never hearing your reply, just broken sobs as he could feel tears threaten to spill from his own eyes. Finally parting from you. He gazed into your eyes, puffy and sad from crying. Something he had only seen you do once before.

“I don’t know.”

He felt his world cave in. was it not enough anymore? Just to love you? In any way that he could? In that moment he cursed his job for not letting you be. For you both to just be, in love. Happily. Healthily. Openly. He knew how much it hurt to never hold hands in public. Confined to closed hotel rooms and dark alleyways where he would steal a kiss. A need he had been carrying with him the whole day. Smiling as he would finally feel your lips against his. Bracing you against an old brick wall. Unjudging and unyielding like his love.

“I miss my home. My family. My friends” You began to stutter, feeling your emotions drown you as you tried to swim your way to the surface for breath.

“Yoongi, I love you but I don’t think I can love you in secret anymore. Not when I’m on my own.”

He heard your heartfelt words wretch through his chest. Like a sincere punch straight to his gut. Precise but untamed. Thoughts rushed to mind in all the ways he could keep you here, with him. Get you to stay. Every idea falling flat as he looked at your face. Now tear stained cheeks and furrowed brows. Flushed and hopeless. Not knowing where else to turn. Being forced into a decision you never wanted to make.

“Okay...I love you, but okay.” He said solemnly, admitting defeat.

His words shocked you, just like that, it was over? He saw the shock and sudden hurt on your face before he continued; practically straddling you now as he pressed both of his hands to cup your face.

“Don’t think for 1 second I’m letting you go that easily. I fucking love you and I can’t risk losing you.” He nuzzled his nose against yours before kissing away your tears. Kissing your closed eyelids before kissing your temples then down to your nose. Finally landing a firm solidifying kiss on your lips.

“I’ll let you go on 1 condition.” He looked into your eyes. Searching for something in them. Something to soothe his aching heart.

Your eyes fluttered to meet his, no more than a couple of inches away. Eyes silently urging him to continue.

“Come back to me, please?” you could hear his voice break and you could feel your heart tearing in two. Tearing away from the cavity it once called home in your chest. You knew in that moment, the way his eyes searched yours, bed head bordering on crazy with dark strands falling into his eyes. He looked at you with adoration and hope. Love and kindness. Your heart belonged to him and only him. A sob wracked your bones as you nodded, barely containing the urge to kiss him as you pulled him against you. He kissed back fervently. Your hands quickly hanging from the nape of his neck as his hands splayed out across your ribs. Pulling your heated skin against his own. Mouths moving as one with desire and wanton need to be with one another. Never to part. His lips, mumbled against yours, once. Twice. Before-

“I’ll fix this. All of it. No more secrets. I just want to be with you. Completely.”

You nodded in agreement to his statement, chest constricting at sudden emotions you had been holding back that rapt against your chest, begging to be set free. Lips connecting again and again as hands wandered and grabbed at one another. You found him above you as you familiarised yourselves within the sheets. Holding one another so close; breathing each other in. you chuckled dryly as he rolled off of you, breathing laboured as he glanced your way, meeting his eyes. Swollen lips from kissing, his tongue sliding over the seam of his lip before a small smile graced his features. Close mouthed but sincere.

“I just need to go home. Then I’ll come back.” You encouraged him.

You looked at him, looking at you. White sheets, meeting his pale skin. Old t shirt hanging off to the right slightly, showing cool expanse of collar bone and his necklace you got him that one time he had been staring at it when you visited an old street market in Spain. Even though he said he wasn’t; repeatedly but still smiled like the lovable dork when you presented him with it later that day. Dark eyes, still ebbed with sleep lingering in the corners; were shining and strands of dark hair graced his forehead, grazing his eyebrows slightly. His lips, parted with the odd swipe of his tongue for moisture. Hand appearing from under sheets to flourish the back of his knuckle against your cheekbone. Stealing a quick kiss on it as it passed your lips.

“I promise.” You whispered; afraid the word would be cursed if uttered at any greater volume.

A light began peering through the crack in the hotel room curtains, signalling the sun rising and a new day beginning. The light; feasting upon his form. Illuminating a profile of his face in golden light; basking in it. You were enamoured and ardently consumed by all that was him. In every lifetime. For the rest of your life time. You were his. He was yours.

Taking your hand in his, he kissed it once. “I’ll be here…Waiting.”

Hope you guys enjoyed! I take requests so please do ask 😊

Love Always

Mac 🧡💜

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