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satosugusandwich · 5 months

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His Angel and His Brat

Part 1!!! Part 2

Hard!Dom!Geto x Brat!Gojo x obedient!afab!reader

(I also try to write my fics to be racially ambiguous! No mention of skin tone or hair type!)

Summary: Gojo is a mega-brat to y/n and Suguru and likes to push buttons cuz he can so Suguru decides to overstimulate Gojo until he thinks he’s broken. (Key word: thinks.) To add to Gojo’s humiliation, he ensures that the reader is getting princess treatment while watching Gojo suffer endlessly. But, of course, things don’t always go as planned with Satoru Gojo.

CW and whatnots: Overstimulation, vibrators, cuffs, finger sucking, condescending!geto, usage of the word “cock”, gojo’s boundless stamina and cocky attitude, anal play, cum licking (off the floor and gojos pp) praise, cocksucking, angel ass reader that ends up in trouble cuz gojo can’t shut his mouth, geto is actually so mean to gojo but so soft cuz he’s actually a teddy bear dw. Use of “brat, princess, angel.” There will be aftercare in future parts cuz imagine leaving pathetic satoru a cum drenched mess. Poor baby. :(((

There will be additional tags in future parts. This is how I cope with ch 236.

Suguru runs his thumb along your bottom lip, licking his own lips while you whimper. Your pretty eyes fixated on his blushing face and half-lidded eyes. He looks at you with so much lust and is so gentle with you, just so in love with how much you please him and how willing you are to do what he wants. You eagerly await him and his orders, always ready to obey.

But.

“Suguru!”

Satoru’s cry makes his face go from pure admiration to utterly sadistic. “Satoru.” He says, looking at the man to the right of you, the same man that’s panting and whining as the vibrator in his tight hole runs relentlessly. “Jealously doesn’t look very good on you.” He grins and hits a button on the small remote he holds in his hand that isn’t occupied with your mouth.

“Fuck—FUCK!” Satoru’s eyes clench shut, the whirring sound coming from his bottom getting faster and bit more high pitched. You’re grateful you aren’t in his position, you don’t know if you could handle Suguru having full control of how much pleasure you get to feel. Especially if that pleasure is ongoing… and nonstop.

Satoru looked unusually pathetic and… weak. It’s insane to think that the so called strongest sorcerer, the cocky, the arrogant, the man on top, bends to the will of his pretty best friend. Suguru’s change in character comes as a shock too. The sweet, soft-spoken, gentle, and empathetic sorcerer is now grinning down at his partner, showing no mercy, no kindness, and is only sending Satoru into deeper throes of overwhelming pleasure. You almost didn’t want to look at Satoru, what if Suguru surmised you wanted the same treatment. Would he show you mercy?

“Now, now,” Suguru muses, “if you can beg me properly, I’ll stop your torment. And of course you’ll need to apologize to Y/n and I for being such an impatient little shit.” He chuckles softly and withdraws his thumb from your mouth. “She’s being so well-behaved while you whine and whine and cry and cry about how much it is.” He mocks him, furrowing his eyebrows together in a false pity. “I suppose I should expect it, after all, you’ve cum how many times? That pressure against—“ Suguru crouches as he speaks “—your prostate—“ he runs the tip of his fingers up Satoru’s base “—it’s been nonstop for 30 minutes now.”

You can’t help but watch as Suguru’s hand starts to stroke Satoru now, giving expert attention to his neglected yet tortured cock. Suguru notices how you eyeball his actions and can’t help but smile wider.

“Ah, do you feel left out?” His false pity changes back to his gentle expression. “It’s alright, princess, why don’t you show Satoru how impressed you are with his stamina. Give him a little reward?”

Suguru is evil.

“I don’t think he could take it, Sugu.” You answer honestly.

He looks a bit disappointed but he relents his ministrations. “I suppose you’re right. But he still owes us an apology before his punishment ends.”

You nod and meet Satoru’s eyes. He can barely speak as his next orgasm approaches. “I-I’m so—“ his body is shaking. “I’m so sorry! I’ve been so—Suguru—so impatient! Please, I’m so so soo!!! So sorry!” He’s almost in tears now, you can tell Suguru is even beginning to feel pity for his best friend and his brat.

“Ahh… cum one more time and I’ll take it out. Show me you deserve mercy by pleading. Plead for mercy.” Suguru’s fingers tug at your nipples now, clearly losing interest in Satoru’s torment. You know that you aren’t being punished, but seeing Suguru like this… makes you a little weary.

“Please please!” Satoru repeats the word over and over. “I’m so sorry! Please, mercy!” He keeps prattling on, thrusting into the air as he struggles to keep together.

“Y/n.” Suguru looks to you. “Clean up his next mess for me. Lick his cock clean and then it’ll be your turn.”

Satoru starts to mumble and moan out different variations of thank yous and Suguru’s name as he reaches his final high. And when he cums, It’s a mess. Semen spills from his cock and your immediately there to catch it. Suguru’s eyes widen, absolutely loving your eagerness to take his cum down your throat.

“Good boy, good girl.” He pets your head and clicks the toy off, causing Satoru’s to collapse completely, his body weight bearing into the now standing legs of Suguru. He catches his breath, still whimpering as Suguru pets his head. Satoru looks you in the eyes, his beauty keeping your gaze fixated on his body. His six eyes are a little red, probably from the tears that he held back, and his body is flushed beautifully, his pretty cock slowly going soft as he does his best to calm down.

Satoru relaxes back on his knees while Suguru goes behind him to remove the toy from his ass and undo Satoru’s hand cuffs. You breathe a sigh of relief for him, always impressed by Satoru’s unwavering stamina and attitude. You wondered how Satoru enjoyed pissing Geto off so much, does he really enjoy these punishments that much? Suguru seemingly loves the after effects of a good punishment, his adoration of Satoru is evident in the way he kisses his head and gently rubs his back while Satoru regains his strength.

As much as you love watching, you are wondering why Suguru invited you to observe Satoru’s punishment. You’re not really complaining and it definitely isn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but, all you’ve had is a thumb in your mouth and a little bit of cocksucking. After all, Suguru can’t ever stay entirely focused on Satoru, he needs some pleasure himself.

Satoru seems to be wondering the same thing. “So, baby, why did you bring her in to watch?” He asks, rising from his knees to give them a break.

Suguru looks down at you. “Just on a whim.” He strokes your face before looking back toward his brat. “And I’ve noticed you get more worked up with an arousing audience.”

“Well, wouldn’t you if she was licking your cum from the floor?” Satoru grumbled, sitting on the bed.

Suguru turns his attention back toward you. “She does love cum in her mouth.” He strokes himself slowly, catching your attention.

“I want yours next.” You tell him, shifting your weight and sending him a smile.

Satoru watches as you lean forward to lick Suguru’s cock, taking his precum on your tongue. He doubt he could handle anymore cumming, but he certainly loves to see you take cock down your throat. If he had more energy, he’d love to stuff his down as well. “Like it that much, y/n?” He chuckles.

Suguru’s eyes shoot to Satoru. “Jealous again, Satoru?? Well, the question is are you jealous cuz my cock is down her throat or are you jealous cuz it’s not down your throat?”

Satoru sucks his teeth. “I want to watch her take me balls deep.”

Uh oh.

Suguru removes his cock from your mouth. “Satoru,” you start, “I don’t think you have enough energy to keep that attitude up.” Indeed, his stamina is incredible.

Suguru waits to see his reaction.

And of course, the other man grins and only adds fuel to the fire. “Think she’d look better with my cock in her mouth. She’s been paying more attention to me than you anyways.”

“Satoru…” you sigh and in seconds Suguru has him pressed back into the bed and is beckoning for you to get on with him.

Satoru laughs. “Aw, did I bruise your ego, baby? What are you gonna do about it?”

Suguru points to his mouth. “Sit on him to shut him up and I’ll give him a nice view of my cock in your mouth.”

Fuck, that sounds hot. Satoru just grins and motions for you to ride his face, pointing at his eager tongue that’s already out and waiting.

“Y/n, make sure he stays quiet I don’t want to hear him make a single peep. And since he likes being punished so much, I’ll punish you instead if he speaks.”

What?

You blink. Undeniably aroused but a bit scared of his now very evident sadism. “You know he’s going to try to speak now on purpose?” Mercy isn’t exactly his thing right now but you’ll pry at it for sure.

Suguru gives you an evil grin as you lower your weeping pussy onto Satoru’s face. “Then keep his mouth shut.”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru #jjk x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo smut #jjk #jjk smut #satoru gojo #cockygojocockygojocockygojocockygojo #jjk gojo #jjk suguru #jjk geto #satosugu smut #geto x reader #geto smut #suguru smut #satosugu x reader #satosugu

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jae-bummer · 9 months

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Request: can i get wonwoo and #20 please? (fluffy haired online gamer boy)

Prompt:

20) You and your bias have become online friends who have never seen each other...until the day you decide to meet.

Pairing: Seventeen Wonwoo x Reader

Genre: Fluff

"WannaWoo," you sang into your mic. "What inspired your gamer tag?"

"It's because my name is Wonwoo," his deep voice said matter-of-factly. "You know that."

"No shit," you laughed. "But why not something else?"

"Why is yours KillerQuiche?" he mused.

"Because it was an autogenerated recommendation and I was thirteen," you grinned. "And at the time, I may or may not have misunderstood what a quiche was."

"And you've just stuck with it? All of this time?"

"Brand continuity. And it gives me ample opportunity to say, "Unleash the KillerQuiche,"" you laughed. "You have to admit, it gets our opponents pretty nervous."

"Or excited because they think they're about to win against a pair of thirteen-year-olds," he hummed.

"And then we devastate them," you chimed. "Because we make a great team!"

"More like give them a false sense of security," he chuckled. "But I suppose we make a pretty alright team."

"Be careful," you grinned. "That sounded dangerously close to a compliment."

"I compliment you all the time!" he gasped.

"Saying "good game" when we win hardly counts as a compliment," you argued.

""Good" is a positive descriptor," he muttered. "It totally counts."

"Fine," you sighed. "I'll allow it."

This wasn't the first time you had gone fishing for actual praise. Something like "Gosh, Y/N! You're so smart" or "Y/N, I know I'm Facetiming you at 2AM, but you look ravishing." Hell, you'd even settle for some variation of "Congratulations, you don't look like a rat today." To say you were thirsty for your friend's attention was an understatement. There had been a drought since the moment you had "met".

You had been long distance friends with Wonwoo for years and he hadn't realized that you were completely in love with him, despite your best efforts. Any attempts at flirting were just that, attempts. The one time you thought he was coming on to you, he was actually sweet talking a locked chest he was trying to open in a game.

At one point, you had considered that maybe he realized how you felt and was keeping you at arm's length to avoid an awkward let down. After you got to really know him though, you quickly understood that he was just reserved and in his head about things that did not concern you. Understanding emotions was not his strong suit, so picking up on them was nearly impossible. That's why he thrived in his digital persona. The worlds the two of you created and navigated were logical and safe. Things were risky when he became friends with you outside of the internet.

"Hey, Y/N?" Wonwoo's voice rumbled over the line. You had just entered the lobby of a game you often enjoyed playing together, so you assumed he was ready to strategize.

"Hmm?"

"Do you want to meet up?"

Furrowing your brow, you adjusted your headset to make sure you were hearing him clearly. "Like...have a designated time we do a video call or something?"

"No," he continued earnestly. "Like meet up."

"I'm sorry, I must be lagging," you said quietly. "We do not live in the same area, Wonwoo."

"Astute observation," he hummed, the tone giving away that he was clearly amused. "I've heard of this incredible invention. You see, it's this giant metal contraption that people actually get inside! And the technology it uses-"

"While I have no earthly idea how an airplane actually works, I don't need you to explain it to me," you rushed out. "Are you saying you want to meet in person?"

"No, I'm saying we should designate a time we do a video call or something."

"Wonwoo!" you whined. You felt like you were having an out of body experience. This was a request you never saw coming.

The man across the line erupted in laughter. You stared blankly at the screen, completely disregarding the cue to jump from the virtual plane and onto the map.

"Is this a joke? If this is a joke, I'm going to be really upset with you."

"It's not a joke!" he sighed. "I've wanted to meet you in person for a while. I hope you feel the same way about me."

"Of course I do!" you gasped. You hoped the "I've probably wanted this longer and more fervently than you" was implied by your tone.

"I was thinking I could come to you," he proposed. "I don't feel comfortable with making you travel so far by yourself."

"I'm more than capable-"

"I did not say you weren't," he cut in. "It's other people I'm worried about."

You felt your heart do a little spin. You weren't used to hearing him be protective. "Okay," you conceded. "But I won't have you pay for a hotel. You can stay in my guest room."

There was a short pause before Wonwoo cleared his throat. "I appreciate that."

Well, that was odd.

"Unless I"m totally overstepping," you added. "If you don't feel comfortable-"

"It sounds great, Y/N," he said much more confidently this time. "Now let's talk logistics."

After refusing to coordinate a plan while he continued to play video games (even when he argued how excellent he was at multitasking), the two of you finally worked out a schedule. In a month's time, he would get on a plane and end up in the same city as you. You'd pick him up, he'd sleep at your apartment, and hijinks would ensue.

As you told him goodnight and logged off for the evening, it felt like you were floating on air. In your wildest dreams, you would have never imagined that Wonwoo would be the one to propose meeting in person. You had thought about it dozens of times, but never wanted him to feel pressured. Plopping onto your bed, you stared up at the ceiling and tried to imagine what it would be like. Attempting to picture his tall, broad frame navigating life beside you, sent your heart tumbling to your toes. The simple intricacies of life seemed to be so much more important when you factored him into the equation. This would either be the best week of your life or the most awkward.

Knowing Wonwoo, it would probably be a happy mixture of both.

You shifted nervously from foot to foot, your stomach tying and untying itself into knots. You weren't sure if you were going to pass out, or spontaneously combust. When Wonwoo had insisted that he fly hours to see you, you had welcomed the idea. Now you were lightheaded and questioning every decision you had ever made to get to this point.

"It'll be fine," you muttered to yourself as you readjusted the balloons you held from one hand to the other. "It's just Wonwoo."

It being "just" Wonwoo was exactly your problem. Wonwoo wasn't "just" anything. He was multitudes. In all of the years that you had known him, he had made you feel the gamut of emotions. He was the truest friend you could ever hope for and the most clueless crush to stumble into your heart.

Keeping a watchful eye on the door marked "Arrivals," you nearly stopped breathing as you saw a face you recognized. Easily a head taller than the people walking around him, he was wearing a bright yellow beanie (so you'd know it was him - as if you wouldn't be able to identify him in any universe). It took mere seconds of him looking around for his eyes to lock on yours, a close-lipped grin on his lips.

From there, it felt like your mind had entered an intensely realistic daydream. Hurrying his steps, Wonwoo strode over until he was standing only inches away. The open expression on his face definitely signaled that he was waiting for you to make the first move. Lifting his arms slightly he breathed. "I'm here."

"You're here!" you all but screeched as you launched toward him. Wrapping yourself around his torso, you were amazed with how he could smell so good after being in the air for multiple hours. You nuzzled your face into his oversized t-shirt and let out a contented sigh.

Smacking at the balloons you still held, he navigated around them to snake his long arms around you. Shimmying in closer, he rested his chin on the top of your head. "A moment that's been years in the making."

You were surprised as you felt a soft kiss on your scalp. Leaning away from him, you looked up with wide eyes. "Wonwoo?"

"I didn't realize I could actually miss someone I had never met," he chuckled, shaking his head. Pushing up his glasses, he stared down fondly at you. "Is it...is it okay if I kiss you?"

You couldn't stop your mouth from popping open in surprise. Would it look bad if you pinched yourself to make sure this wasn't in fact a stress-induced mental break?

Wonwoo furrowed his brow as he searched your face. "I just...I just thought...Did I read the moment wrong? Oh god, I did, didn't I?"

The reality of the situation crashed into you with surprising force. Stepping forward to wrap him in your arms again, you cautiously glanced up. The last thing you wanted him to think was that he had crossed a boundary and made you uncomfortable. "Sorry, no, you didn't read the moment wrong. I was just...surprised?"

"Surprised?" he asked, still clearly confused.

"Well, uh," you said quietly. "You've never really given me any indication that you were romantically interested?"

"What?" he asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "What do you mean? Y/N, we've known each other since we were teenagers at this point. You're impossible not to fall in love with."

"...in, in love?" you croaked. This was all terribly new information.

"I had just assumed..." he said, growing smaller the more he talked. "I assumed we were...kind of...a couple?"

You continued to stare at him.

"You flirt with me all the time!" he offered. "And I flirt back!"

"In what world do you flirt back?" you laughed. Maybe you really were going through a mental break. Had he really known you had been flirting with him this entire time?

"I tease you," he muttered. "And I try to say sweet things, but every time I think I've come up with something good, it comes out wrong."

"I had no idea," you whispered. "But Wonwoo, I feel exactly the same."

"Oh," he huffed, now trying to process the whirlwind of information that had been exchanged. "Well, excellent!"

"Just...can you try to be a little more obvious with your attempts to romance me?" you laughed. Apparently, you had been the clueless one all along.

"I'm more than happy to try," he said, a cautious smile finding its way back to his lips. "I have your favorite compliment geared up and ready."

"Oh? And what's that?"

He prodded your cheek with his nose, closing his eyes as his forehead came to rest on your temple. "Good game, KillerQuiche."

#seventeen #svt #wonwoo #jeon wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #svt wonwoo #seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #seventeen x reader #seventeen fic #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo fluff #wonu

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mlm-writer · 1 year

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Daddy/Dearest (Wade Wilson x M!Reader)

Pairing: Wade Wilson/Deadpool x Alien!Cis!M!Reader Rating: Mature (lowest I can go with a Deadpool fic) Words: 1048 POV: Third Summary: You matched with Deadpool on the intergalactic dating app Starcrossed. After exchanging many dick pics, you decided to visit Earth for your first date... and blow the planet up if the date sucked. Note: Inspired by the song Party Tonight by Joe Hedourix and this prompt. Tags: first date, fluff, idk who Nick Fury really is tbh, 4th wall breaks, romcom and reader’s appearance is a little vague but at some point I started imagining Megamind

“Deadpool! Open up!” Wade groaned at the insistent knocking on his door. He tried to rub his eyes, only to find out that he was still wearing his mask. A quick look down revealed he had fallen asleep on the couch in his PJs. The knocking at his door stopped, so he rested his body on the couch. He had barely closed his eyes, when the door was knocked down.

He raised his head with a groan, only to be incredibly surprised by his guest. “Wow, Nick Fury, I am not sure if I am even supposed to know who you are, because the writer has seen exactly one movie in which you had a cat, but he supposes you’re an important dude or whatever.”

“Shut it, motherfucker,” the man wearing a black trenchcoat barked back at Wade. He clearly took note of the dirty white shirt with a butt on it and the blue chequered underwear Wade was wearing, but he did not comment on it. “Do you know the app Starcrossed?”

Wade laughed, not reading the room that had been filled with armoured men and women because we are inclusive here and women can and will kick your ass if provoked.

“That app with all the metas on it? Why? Did we match? I’m sorry if I did not reply, but you’re not really my type and you must have been an accidental swipe.”

“Stop yapping! Does this guy look familiar to you?” From his pocket he unfolded a picture printed on an A4 paper. Wade leaned in and squinted at the picture. He did recognise the person on it.

“Oh yes that’s my daddy - not my father - but like a sexual daddy you know. You should see his dick.” Nick looked like he was gonna lose it. Wade could tell, but he frankly did not give a shit.

“Well, your ‘daddy’ is the leader of an alien race, whose armada is in orbit right now to drop him off for a ‘date’ with you. So get dressed, because whether we get blown up or not today is apparently up to you.” That was a lot to take in, but Wade was used to weird days and this was simply just another one of them.

Now it was common to be nervous for a first date, but the fully armed SWAT team dropping Wade off was not helping. He tried making conversation with them, but they seemed to blame him for possible annihilation before dinner time.

When he stepped out of the chopper, there was a masculine figure waiting in front of the former military base. He held a large bouquet of iridescent flowers. They seemed either fake or from an alien planet. “Wadey!” The figure called out, waving frantically with all hands that were not holding the bouquet. The inhuman coloured skin seemed to change colour wherever the late morning sun was directly shining on it.

“Hi daddy,” Wade called back in the same cooing tone. He skipped over to his date. “Are those for me?” He mused, knowing the answer as his date handed them to him.

“I heard flowers are quite common to bring to a Terran date, so I brought some rare flowers from my planet for you. I am afraid they will not survive as long as they would on my planet though. The sun here is weak.” Wade smelled the flowers. They smelled like butt. Could be worse. At least Wade was familiar with the smell of butt. Wade held the flowers close as he thanked the other for them. “Well then, shall we? Your government was so kind to help me set up an Earth-date.”

The atmosphere was… weird. There was a very extensive brunch on a beautifully decorated table, but they were surrounded by people keeping them at gunpoint. “You don’t seem bothered by being held at gunpoint,” Wade noted as he rolled up his mask just far enough to shove a croissant into his mouth.

“Likewise,” his date smirked back at him. He reached out and touched the edges of the mask. “Come on, I already know your dick and ass are covered in scars. Your face cannot possibly scare me.” Wade thought about it. Well, his identity was not really a secret right now anyway. They already knew where he lived. Wade lifted his mask off his face, trying to not show how insecure he was about his fucked up face. However, when he looked at the alien before him, he swore he could see a hunger in his eyes. “If these people were not around, I would fuck your face right now,” the man sighed dreamily, before continuing to clumsily trying to spread butter on a piece of toast.

Wade reached out and decided to help him. Their fingers briefly touched and Wade saw the other man smile at the contact. It set his body on fire with desire. “I frankly don’t care about the audience, but after writing all those kinktober fics the writer can really use a break from blowjob scenes, so let’s keep this from being E-rated.”

Wade sat back down after buttering his date’s toast. He watched as the alien’s facial features reacted to the taste of Earth food. “Fascinating,” he spoke softly. Wade chatted with his date and those mesmerising eyes and charming smile kept drawing him in. At some point he was sure even Nick Fury could smell his arousal from wherever he was keeping an eye on the situation. There was no more food left, when his date rose from his seat and offered one of his hands. “Let’s get out of here.”

Wade grabbed his mask and put it back on. “We’ll have to fight our way out of here if we want to do that.” A corona of blue light started surrounding the alien, a devilish smile appearing on his face. The sudden display of power got people loading their guns and Wade’s gun filling up with blood really quickly.

“Do not worry, dearest, that can be arranged,” the most powerful being that had ever held him spoke, before he blasted a hole in the line of armed people, lighting the way to their future in a flurry of blue. “Let’s have a good time, dearest.”

#deadpool #wade wilson #ryan reynolds #deadpool x reader #male reader #deadpool x male reader #wade wilson x reader #wade wilson x male reader #mcu #marvel #mcu x reader #MCU x Y/N #mcu x you #mcu x male reader #marvel x reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x you #Marvel x Y/N

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blessedwithabadomen · 3 months

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in love with the mess - day one

summary : Aubrey is going on tour and, for once, she's decided to focus on having as much fun as possible. Oli can be a little shit but he does nothing short of adore Audrey and... well, maybe Noah a little, too. Noah likes the flirting, as long as no one gets too close, emotionally. But what will happen when the three of them take it too far?

content : fluff and flirting

length : 3.1k

tags (let me know if you want to be tagged!) : @veronicaphoenix @cookiesupplier @lma1986 @jilliemiw86 @bngurngheart @lacktoesandtoddlerants @narcissisticbehavior81 @flowery-mess @shilohrosechicken

a/n: I'm not home this week so I hope this posts correctly from my phone 😬 enjoy the chapter!!

•••

day one

If there was one thing to know about me it was that I was an absolute whore for a breakfast buffet. And the one at this hotel had both a waffle station and a chef to make you omelettes on demand so really, I couldn't be to blame. It was simply unfortunate that I was elbows deep in a plate of chocolate croissants I’d balanced on my table when Noah appeared.

For a singular moment I still had hope that he would not see me or even then, decide to ignore me and enjoy the quiet morning by himself, but after a quick detour to the coffee machine, he confidently took the seat across from me.

“You stuff everything in your mouth with that much vigour?”

Both of us froze in the middle of our movements. From the look in his eyes, I was pretty sure that he was not insinuating what we were both thinking now, the realisation of what his words could mean hitting him only after they’d already been spoken. I was trying so hard not to let my face twist into a grin, or full on laughter, and it was becoming increasingly difficult with every second of horror passing through his eyes.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Finally realising that I was very much seeing the humour in his slip-up, he cracked a handsome smile, half-hidden by the hand that was rubbing his face as he groaned. I had half a mind to throw another remark at him, tease him about his faux pas a little further, but my eyes were trained on the back of his hand and the dark flower design inked into the skin.

Carefully reaching for him, I pulled the hand away from his face, lying it palm-down on the table between us between my plate of sweets and his coffee, just to study the tattoo further. Tracing every line on every patel, I committed the design to memory. It was gorgeous and it was perfect on him.

“You got any tattoos?” Noah tried very hard to sound normal, but I heard the huskiness in his voice, one that hadn’t been there before. I hoped it had to do with my touch. It was why I didn’t quite let go of him when I answered.

“A couple,” I mused. “Most of them hidden away though. Had some, quite ridiculous I can say now, ideas about wanting to have the option of a normal job that might not like to see me covered in ink. Although I’m pretty sure that ship’s sailed, so I’m definitely looking to get started on my arms soon.”

“Where’s the ones you have so far?”

He was probably expecting my legs, my shoulders, something easily shown with barely any clothes removal. Something I could let him see right now. He wasn’t entirely wrong. I did have a couple in those spots, too.

“I don’t think I can show you in a public place without becoming a menace.”

Noah’s hand visibly flinched underneath mine and he pulled back, immediately making me miss his warmth. He took a long sip of his coffee and I wondered if it was an attempt to buy some time.

“This was, um,” he coughed in between his words, “a great talk but you’re a fucking flirt and I need a bit more caffeine to deal with you.”

Disappointment flooded my veins as he got up from the table - had I been too much? Said the wrong thing? Come on too strongly? I knew I had vowed to take Lia’s advice at being a little more offensive and letting myself do whatever I was in the mood for, but that didn’t mean it was appreciated. Maybe I should back down. Keep more to myself after all. Not be so damn-

“Find me later?” He asked with a grin as he stopped next to my chair on the way out.

Well. Maybe I didn’t need to change much at all.

•••

I had forgotten how much running around was involved in a job like that. I wasn't complaining really, I did enjoy that it kept me on my toes, but I was thoroughly exhausted by the time I basically dropped Oli off for soundcheck. He'd had several appointments beforehand that I accompanied him to and even when he was busy, he still found time to think of fifteen different things he had forgotten in some place or other and needed immediately, making me cross the arena and the hotel several times more than necessary. He had way too much fun with it too.

Now I finally saw a chance to take a breather, so I grabbed a couple of things from catering (surprisingly good catering actually, Bring Me The Horizon had really moved up in the world it seemed) and went on a hunt for a quiet backstage room. I was fully planning on bunking up in one of Bring Me’s dressing rooms as they should all technically be empty now, but when I walked past a different door, half open, half closed, I couldnt help but stop as I looked inside. Noah was sitting on a couch - well, I said sitting, I really meant he was halfway to sliding down off it, his head collapsed onto the back ledge, eyes closed, looking ridiculously uncomfortable.

I didn’t mean to disturb him. In fact, I didn’t quite know what the plan was at all, but in one split decision, I walked into the room, quietly closing the door behind me and sitting down on the couch next to him. Balancing my stuff on the table, I scooped some of my (honestly deliciously smelling pasta) on a fork and carefully held it under Noah’s nose.

It was like watching a dog sleep that suddenly started dreaming of the very smell that surrounded him in real life. His nose was starting to twitch in the most adorable way, then his breathing changed a little. One by one, his body was waking up, not quite sure yet why, but pulled from his sleep anyway.

His eyes finally opened, a little at first, then more, slightly swollen from the nap had seemingly had taken him by force, as he tried to focus on where we was. Blinking, then blinking again, he finally set sight on the fork in front of him, brows furrowing as he pulled his head back to look at it better in utter confusion.

“What the-”

Noah finally sat up properly, only just now noticing me sitting next to him, amused beyond belief as I finally pushed the fork in my mouth. The pasta was a little cool already, but still surprisingly tasty. Good venues came with good catering apparently.

“Want one?” I asked, scoopin up some more pasta and holding it out to him. Still a little dazed, he simply opened his mouth and let me carefully feed him a portion.

“Didn’t you two meet, like, yesterday?” I looked up in surprise as someone entered the room. Folio, I think his name was, drummer for Bad Omens, currently looking at us with an questioning, but not unkind smile. “What’s with the married couple behaviour?”

“Very funny,” Noah commented, but there wasn’t the usual playfulness in his voice. I instinctively pulled back a little.

Both men exchanged looks I couldn’t quite interpret. I didn’t know either of them well enough to know what they were silently communicating, but I knew there was a conversation happening that I wasn’t part of. The intensity of it was felt in the whole room though. If I was the reason for it, I wanted to never be put in this position again. It even put me off the pasta I’d been shovelling in my mouth with vigour.

Then Folio turned away from him and toward me, once again showing his smile which seemed so out of place for a moment that I wondered if I had purely imagined the unease I had felt before.

“Oli’s looking for you, by the way. Apparently he left his phone in his dressing room.”

“I’d wondered why it was so quiet,” I mumbled with a look toward my own mobile. “Not sure why I thought I could escape him.”

Folio sent me a pitiful look, even though I was sure he knew as well as I did that I wasn’t really complaining. Getting up from the sofa, I cradled my pasta again, determined to finish it one way or another, putting my phone into the pocket of my jeans, when I felt a hand on me.

Noah’s fingers were wrapped around my wrist. He had sat up slightly just to reach me. I both wanted to lean into his touch and pull away, almost overwhelmed by the sensations running through my body with his fingers on my pulse point.

“Are you watching the set later?”

“Yeah, I… Oli said I could watch the show from the sound desk.”

“Good. I hope you enjoy it. I’d say I’ll look for you but I don’t think I can see that far.”

And then he sent me a smile that had my heart soaring and I was once again ready to throw all caution in the wind.

•••

“Are you sure this is okay?”

I carefully slid into a designated spot at the sound desk, giving everyone around me smiles that I hoped would convince them not to hate me for intruding into their workspace.

“Well if you touch anything, we’ll have to burn you at the stake… Other than that, welcome to the sound desk!” The woman next to me cheerfully explained. “Don’t worry, Oli vouched for you, so unless you’re extraordinarily clumsy and manage to undo all our work with the sweep of a hand over our stuff, you’re grand.”

“I’ll try my very best,” I promised. “And if I fuck anything up, take it from Oli’s wages please.”

“Oh, gladly!”

I watched as she went back to work, preparing for the upcoming Bad Omens set, and I couldn’t help but study her a little bit. If I hadn’t known from the AAA pass around her neck and, well, the fact that she seemed to know what she was doing and wasn’t in the process of getting kicked out, I couldn’t have told her from the fans that were starting to crowd around us in the venue.

She hadn’t overdone it by any measure and her face, as far as I could see, was blank of any make-up, but she had dressed the part with ease. Heavy boots accompanied her black shorts perfectly, making her look both tough and delicate somehow, her black top was wrapped in a corset, she was wearing a choker and several earrings. It just made sense. Looking down at myself, I was suddenly less thrilled with my hastily put-on choice of clothing from that morning. A simple pair of dark jeans, a non-descript shirt, no accessories whatsoever.

I didn’t know why I hadn’t made more of an effort. It wasn’t that I thought it was expected of me or necessary in any way, but looking at the sound tech reminded me of how much fun I usually had dressing up. In fact, half of my wardrobe at home was stuffed with elaborate pairs of trousers, laced tops, skater skirts, platform boots. Only I hadn’t really packed any of it.

Pulling out my phone, I shot a text to Lia.

Aubrey

Have I been hiding myself away lately

Lia

context pls

Aubrey

I can’t remember the last time I dressed up and it’s just hit me with everyone in this venue looking so fucking fab

For a moment, I wondered if she was already giving up on messaging me, but when I looked back at my phone, I realised that she was instead recording an audio message. Oh dear. Checking the time, I made sure I would manage to get a good listen before the lights dimmed and Bad Omen’s show began.

“Babe, since you’re finally realising it yourself now, yes, you’ve been letting yourself go. I didn’t want to push you too hard - well, I would have if you’d gotten really bad, you know that but then Oli called so that was off the table. But since… you know, you had that girlfriend and it was all fucked up and your family basically - well, let me just say I’m still available to beat any of them up. The ex and the family. You know that. But yeah. It’s taken a toll on you and you’ve not been yourself lately and it’s been painful to watch. Which is why I’ve been telling you to have some fucking fun on this tour. Put on that dress and that lipstick and get back to being yourself, yeah? And now enjoy the show and give Noah some air kisses from me, love you, bye!”

I felt dumbstruck. Had it really gotten that bad? Had everyone noticed but me? I knew I’d been struggling a bit since my last relationship drama and everything that followed (and technically preceeded) it, but… Lia’s words were ringing in my head. Maybe I had been letting myself go. It wasn’t worryingly bad, surely, but had I been my usual self? I thought I was seeing glimpses of it again now that I was on tour.

Quickly checking the schedule on my phone I realised that after today it was one more gig before a day off between Bournemouth and Birmingham. I shot Oli a message.

Aubrey

I don’t care what kinda disguise you need to go out but you need to take me clothes shopping in two days xoxo

Oli

I’ll get a fake moustache

•••

Bad Omens were a force to behold on stage. I couldn’t help but keep my eyes on Noah as much as the distance would allow me to, hanging onto his every word, studying his every movement. It was mesmerising. I’d never had the pleasure of seeing them live before but I already knew I’d make sure to catch them several more times on this tour. There was simply no way around it.

The break was spent chatting to the sound tech whose name I finally learned was Becky. It turned out she was extremely passionate when it came to talking about her craft and I was a willing listener. Nothing she said made a lot of sense so far as she threw all kinds of technical terms at me, but it was fascinating to hear her explain how much of a part she and her team really played in making this an experience, rather than just a live show.

She barely managed to stop talking by the time she was nudged by someone else on her team to notify her of the performance being about to start, which left her busy for the next one hundred minutes and me with too many thoughts and no one to voice them to. So I did the only sensible thing I could think of. I spam-texted Oli all of them for him to find after the show.

Aubrey

Opening with darkside is bold but I love a bold man

Aubrey

I love this setlist so much

I know you showed it to me yesterday but it doesn’t compare

Also the visuals wow

Aubrey

You look very good in red btw and so does your ass

Aubrey

Cause you got a taste noooow drank the kool-aid by the juuuuug

Oh dear I hope everyone’s ok

I’m glad you’re stopping shows liberally these days to make sure

Aubrey

I said it before and I’ll say it again, strangers into diamonds is fucking insane and I don’t know who allowed you to do that

Aubrey

Antiviiiiiiist!! Tell Noah he looks good in that mask

Aubrey

Also why were you getting a headrush after that song hmmm was it performing with Noah do you love him I’d get a headrush to if I screamed with him like that and got to give him two hugs

Aubrey

Yeah the doomed montage is making me cry, fuck you

Aubrey

I hope you have fun whenever you find these messages

I promise I wasn’t drunk when I wrote them just high on live music heyyyy

•••

Walking backstage, I immediately ran into the band leaving the stage. Lee held out his hand for a high five, massive smiles all around from a successful start to the tour, and I wasn’t one to leave him hanging. It ended with everyone who came up behind him following suit on the high fives, until Oli appeared at last, who instead grabbed onto my hand and clumsily twirled me around myself. I was still stumbling over my feet, uncoordinated feet unable to keep up with the sudden movement, when he pulled me into his chest for a hug.

Oli was made of pure adrenaline. I could basically smell it radiating off him. There was laughter in my ear, exhilaration from the first show having gone well, his hands pushing against my back so tightly I had no choice but to melt into him. Any attempt at not touching his bare skin were futile as my fingers slipped under his cropped jacket. He was hot and sweaty, but I didn’t mind one bit. If anything, it awakened something more primal in me. Something that begged to claw at his skin, push him against the nearest wall, have a taste of the droplets running down his chest. I was almost glad when he let me go for fear of what my hands would do if he didn’t.

“I sent you a couple of messages during the set by the way. You can read them as a slightly unhinged bedtime story,” I explained as he nudged me to get a move on toward the dressing rooms.

“Oh I bet those will put me right to sleep,” he laughed.

“Did you actually say that you had a headrush on stage after performing with Noah?”

“Fuck, yeah, my head was fucking spinning, thought I was gonna faint.”

“Was it so stimulating be around him?” I teased, moving to tickle his side, but he quickly dodged me and fell onto the sofa alone. “Does he make your heart race?”

Oli eyed me for a moment, pushing his hair back. I tried my best to ignore how good it looked on him.

“See, you talk about him so much, I can’t tell if you wanna hook up with him or if you want to set me up with him.”

I genuinely didn’t know how to answer that. I didn’t think I quite knew it myself.

#Noah Sebastian fic #Noah Sebastian #Oli Sykes fic #Oli Sykes #Noah Sebastian x reader #Oli Sykes x reader #in love with the mess

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cryoculus · 1 year

Text

— imagine being loved by me! ⟢

pairing: xiao | alatus x reader

summary: the one where your best friend gives you ten tattoos over the next ten years. the problem? you fall deeper in love each time the ink stains your skin.

word count: 7.1k words

tags: modern au, tattoo artist!xiao, childhood friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending, relationship study, non-explicit smut

warnings: emotionally stunted xiao but i fink everyone knows that already, mentions of needles, there's smut but it isn't detailed

notes: this blog's been dead for Months but i thought i'd revive it with this fic that my beloved @delvalentine commissioned me to make! i love u to DEATH, v, i hope i did your requests justice :')

header art cr: yuca7302 on twt

01.

“Ow, fuck! Can you be more careful?!”

“I am careful. You just have a shitty pain tolerance.”

“Wow, that’s not something you should say to your first willing client,” you huff, trying not to pull away as Xiao repeatedly punctures the skin of your forearm with pen ink and a not-so-sterile sewing needle. “My family could sue you if I die from a blood infection, you know.”

Xiao rolls his eyes. “Something this small won’t kill anyone. Plus, you came here on your own volition, so stop complaining.”

“Are you saying you’re just going to let me die of sepsis if everything goes to shit?”

“Pretty much.”

You didn’t know what to expect when your best friend of several years asked if you wanted a tattoo of your favorite constellation. It’s been a running joke between the both of you that the two moles on your forearm looked a lot like two-thirds of Orion’s belt, and that maybe, in another life, you would’ve been born with all three of its stars on your skin.

You should’ve known that Xiao likes to blow your expectations out of the water—whether he intends to do so or not.

It’s sundown when he finishes embedding black pen ink beneath your slightly inflamed skin. Xiao doesn’t comment when you repeatedly complain about how much that fucking hurt, and that you’re never agreeing to do it again, but you don’t miss the way his eyes occasionally flit up to the starry sky before shifting to your new ‘tattoo’ as he walks you home.

You don’t think you’ll ever forget that night. How you admired the amateur handiwork in the soft glow of your nightlight while thinking about the boy who gave you a star fashioned with his own fingers where others would’ve given flowers instead.

But then you remember Xiao is nothing but your best friend, and it’s a little…weird to be thinking about him like that.

Must be the sepsis fucking with my head, you muse before flicking off your nightlight, and the room is plunged into pitch black darkness.

02.

You’re eighteen when you realize Xiao is completely serious about this tattooing business.

It comes as a not-so-pleasant surprise to you one day when your high school’s guidance counselor approaches you while you’re hurrying over to your next class—asking if you’ve seen Xiao around these days because apparently, your best friend hasn’t been attending his classes for a better part of the semester.

Of course, you receive the news with a scowl. While you don’t exactly see him all that much at school because of how different your schedules are, you never expected to find out he’s been playing hooky all this time.

You don’t particularly like sticking your nose into other people’s business—especially not Xiao’s, since you know how he likes to keep to himself better than most. But for some reason, you aren’t able to resist, and end up calling him after excusing yourself from your two-hour Biology lecture.

Once your classes are done, you head over to a nearby tattoo parlor whose address Xiao texted to you right after you squeezed his whereabouts out of him during that phone call. It’s located in one of the more run-down parts of town that your parents would’ve detested Xiao for inviting you to. But whatever prejudice you might’ve had about the denizens of this district all go up in smoke once you meet the owner herself.

“You should’a seen Xiao practicing with our machines a few months ago!” Beidou, as Xiao had sheepishly introduced earlier, barks out a laugh before slinging an arm around your best friend’s shoulders. “Said there’s someone he wanted to give permanent tatts to. I’m guessing you’re the guest of honor?”

“Beidou,” Xiao groans. “It’s not a big deal. I already practiced on her before.”

You don’t completely catch it when Beidou makes an inappropriate joke as a response to what Xiao just said—eyes trained on the fading dot on your forearm. It’s been two years since Xiao gave you your first ‘tattoo’, and even if the receding ink makes it look like one of Orion’s stars are starting to die out, it’s still there.

“Okay,” you say in the middle of their bickering, startling both Xiao and Beidou in the process. “I’ll let him ink me if he wants to.”

Xiao stares at you with brows furrowed. “You sure?”

No, you’re not sure because as much as you want to support Xiao in what seems to be a budding passion of his, you’re certain that your father is going to kill you when he sees a full-blown tattoo on any part of your body. You barely got away with the artificial mole that Xiao did for you a few years back.

“Positive.” You back your words up with an indignant huff before sifting through the pre-made designs on Beidou’s catalog. “You just have to put it somewhere not everyone can see, I guess.”

Beidou snorts out another jarring laugh when Xiao clicks his tongue to alleviate the embarrassment that’s painting his face just a touch of red.

Earlier in the day, you intended to scold your best friend for not taking his studies seriously, but ended up going home that day with a new piece inked onto the skin of your left hip: a little spruce twig that you last remember seeing in your old hometown—years before you even met Xiao.

There’s no particular meaning behind it, apart from a hint of sentimentality and rebelliousness. It’s your first actual tattoo, and one of your best friends gave it to you, free of charge. Even if it hurts ten times more than Xiao’s novice needle method from two years ago, you end up loving it more than you thought. One time, you stare at Xiao’s intricate handiwork in the mirror for so long that you nearly run late for your first class of the day.

(Another thing that makes this particular piece memorable is the process itself.

Xiao is a person who’s always been startlingly precise in everything he decides to put his head into. When you learned that he wanted to become a tattoo artist, you instantly felt like there’s no other path more perfect for him than this.

Yet you couldn’t help but notice how his fingers sometimes trembled as he gave you your first piece—with you lying chest-down on Beidou’s tattoo chair in nothing but your shirt and underwear. It shouldn’t have been strange. Xiao has seen you dressed down like this dozens of times before.

But when all’s said and done, he refused to meet your eyes, and you don’t have the slightest clue why.)

03.

You just can’t stop staring when you see Xiao’s half-sleeve for the first time.

It’s meant to be a phoenix, he said, but you can’t really see it because the patterns are too abstract to make sense of. Still, the azure ink sits nicely on top of his built bicep, and you have to tell yourself that you’re just trying to find the stupid phoenix as an excuse to keep ogling him.

Thankfully, your weird fascination lasts for only about a week until you’re back to shitting on him like you always do.

By some miracle, Xiao manages to graduate high school despite being on probation from his excessive absences. He’s actually smart if he makes the effort to hit the books, but you’re not sure if he’s planning on going to college with how comfortable he is with being one of Beidou’s most in-demand tattoo artists.

You ask him about his future plans at a party being thrown by the previous captain of the football team in his parents’ lavish penthouse somewhere uptown. It took a great deal to force Xiao into tagging along with you as your plus one, and you’re going to make good on his acquiescence by interrogating him about things he normally skirts around.

“I told you, I didn’t take any entrance exams,” he grumbles against the rim of his red cup. “I’m managing just fine working for Beidou, so I don’t see any reason to go to college.”

You’re about to argue that Beidou’s tattoo parlor won’t be open forever, and that he needs to think about broadening his career options until a bunch of girls with linked arms shuffle closer to where you and Xiao were lounging on the couch. You don’t talk to them a lot, but everyone in your grade knows the infamous Pyro Trio.

“Hey, Xiaooo,” Hu Tao drawls with a smirk, pushing up her sleeve to reveal the branches of a cherry blossom tattooed on the delicate skin of her arm. Behind her, Xiangling and Xinyan snicker like it’s some sort of inside joke.

You intend to shift your gaze elsewhere. Clearly, you’re not the person these girls want to speak with. But the sight of the ink on Hu Tao’s skin makes the back of your neck prickle with misplaced irritation. Xiao must’ve been the one who did her piece, which shouldn’t be a surprise. Though he’s this year’s most notable absentee, rumors about Xiao’s handiwork haven’t gone unnoticed among the students in your (now) alma mater.

That doesn’t mean you have to like the idea of your best friend inking other people that aren't you, though.

You decide to excuse yourself from Xiao’s company—given that Hu Tao is giving him plenty of attention already as is. Your best friend utters something you don’t quite catch as you walk away, and you don’t bother turning around to ask him to repeat himself.

(As you stuff your face with shot after shot, you force yourself to just keep dancing to the rhythm of whatever song is blaring to the speakers. You didn’t give two shits about the fact that Hu Tao keeps feeling up the stupid phoenix tattoo on Xiao’s arm. Nor did you care about the fact that your best friend—who’s normally evasive when it comes to casual contact—seems like he doesn’t mind at all.)

The night ends with Xiao begrudgingly getting behind the wheel of your car, since you’re obviously in no state to be driving anyone home. When he announces that he’ll bring you back to your apartment, you slur out a drunken protest—asking if he can take you to the tattoo parlor instead.

“What?” he asks incredulously. “Why?”

You huff, curling in on yourself on the passenger seat. “The cherry blossoms you gave Hu Tao were ugly as shit. You can do a better piece on me. Y’know, as practice.”

Both of you know that you’re bluffing. Xiao’s pieces are one of the most intricate you’ve ever seen, even if he is a rookie tattoo artist, and that you don’t have a lot of points of reference to compare to. But instead of taking offense at your mindless jab at his work, Xiao slots the keys into the ignition with a defeated sigh.

“Fine. You mentioned wanting spider lilies a while back,” he says before propping his arm against the car seat as he backed up on the street. It’s the perfect angle to moon over his not-so-phoenix tattoo, and if you were any more intoxicated, you would’ve reached out and squeezed his arm.

“Where do you want it?”

You know he meant to ask where you wanted him to put your prospective tattoo, but the question sends your mind straight into the gutter. Thankfully, you still have some semblance of coherence lingering in your drunk thoughts, and you answer with:

“Right hip. Opposite end of the spruce twig.”

When Xiao heaves another sigh and steps on the gas pedal, you don’t think much of it—still convinced it’s completely normal to expose such intimate parts of yourself to your best friend so he can tattoo a fucking flower just above the swell of your thigh.

04.

“You have been watching way too much anime.”

“Come on! At least I’m not having you tattoo the names of my shitty ex-boyfriends on my ass, right? Just give me my modified Tanjiro hanafuda and Fullmetal Alchemist flamel!”

“...Is this your way of coping with taking up a nursing course? Is it that stressful?”

You whine as you hold your phone closer to your ear, already picturing the look of disbelief in Xiao’s face when you asked when he’s free to give you your next tattoos. You still go to college in the same city, but it’s been weeks since you last saw him.

“You have no idea,” you groan. “It’s like my first year, and I’m already burned out! How is that even possible?”

Your best friend grunts on the other line. “Maybe if you stopped being such a perfectionist, then maybe you’ll learn to be more content. Less stress on your part, too.”

“Ah, no can do. I never do anything that isn’t perfect,” you chuckle. “

“Yeah, I saw you score at the top of your class during your, uh… what was it again? Biochem exam?”

For someone who doesn’t exactly give a damn about anything outside tattooing and other similar forms of artistry, you find it endearing to know Xiao actually remembers all the things you rant about in the wee hours of the morning. You don’t hate biochem, but if you have to draw another chemical configuration, you might just pop a vein.

“Okay, let’s say I agree to tattoo those weird doodles you sent,” Xiao propositions, “do you even have any free days? You usually study on weekends, right? I don’t think you’re free to drop by the shop even if you wanted to.”

Fuck. He’s right. You still have a few major exams coming up in the next two weeks. If you wait that long until you get your silly weeaboo tattoos from Xiao, you would’ve already gotten over your momentary hyperfixation on the TV shows that were salvaging your sanity in the middle of the semester. It wouldn’t feel as thrilling to get them anymore.

“I’m free…” You trail off, eyes darting to the digital clock by your desk then to the course notes you have opened on your laptop. You haven’t studied as much as you wanted to for your upcoming anatomy test, but…

“Right now, actually. Can you pick me up?”

You can hear him frowning. “Don’t you have a car?”

“I do, but I don’t wanna drive when I have plastic wrap all over my body.”

“You’re exaggerating. It’s not all over your—”

“Jesus, get the hint, Xiao. I miss my best friend, and I want to have a quiet evening cruise on his motorcycle before he gets me inked again!”

Xiao falls silent, and this time, you’re having some difficulty picturing what expression he’s wearing on his face. You like to think you’ve startled your un-startle-able best friend, but that’s pushing your influence too much.

“Okay,” he says, more agreeable than you thought he’d be. “I’ll be there in thirty. Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.”

05.

When you introduce your first serious boyfriend in a while to Xiao, you’re a bit annoyed with how prickly he’s being.

Sure, it’s wired into his system to be the snarky asshole everyone knows and loves, but if there’s anyone else who knows about the tragedy that is your love life better than yourself, it’s Xiao. When you finally land a decent guy to settle down with, you at least expect him to be a bit more supportive.

“Actually, we came here ‘cause we planned on getting matching tattoos,” your boyfriend, Yin, explains with a dimpled smile. “Isn’t that right?”

You stifle a soft laugh, a bit embarrassed to agree, but too in love with your boyfriend to protest.

A few years ago, you distinctly remember drunkenly rambling to Xiao about how stupid it is to get couple tattoos especially when relationships these days are built on flimsy foundations.

If you break up, what then? You have a physical reminder of that person on your body for eternity? No fucking thanks!

“Sorry, we’re closed right now, as you can see,” Xiao grunts before jabbing his thumb at the sign he just turned at the door. “You can try some other time, though.”

At the time, you were pissed at Xiao for denying your little request. He always agreed to ink you during ungodly hours of the day, but now he’s playing the ‘shop’s closed’ card just because he doesn’t like your boyfriend?

But then, you end up grateful for his attitude exactly a month later.

“Fucking cheated on me with some bitch from his Physics lecture,” you sniffle on Xiao’s ratty sofa as he makes you some tea in his kitchen. “I can’t believe I nearly tattooed our anniversary on my wrist! I would’ve had to fucking amputate it in the end.”

Xiao sighs before placing a piping hot cup of honey lemon in front of you on his coffee table—crossing his legs together. He doesn’t tell you I told you so, like others probably would if they were in his shoes. Your best friend just stares at you with withering understanding, no matter how stupid the choice that got you here in the first place turned out to be.

That’s one of the many things you loved about him.

“You were supposed to have ‘XV’ inked together, right?” he asks.

You huff before tossing some of the soiled tissues you used into the bin. “Yeah. We made it official on September 15th.”

“Well, if you still want the tattoo, you could just give it a different meaning.”

Scowling, you stare at Xiao as if he just grew a second head. “What the hell are you talking about?” Is he really suggesting for you to get the same tattoo that he denied you and your ex a month ago?

Xiao shrugs noncommittally before taking a sip from the tea he prepared for you. “It’s been fifteen years since we became best friends. That’s worth commemorating, at least. Unless you suddenly don’t give a shit about that, too?”

Your jaw hangs agape at the sudden reminder. October 15th. When you were four, you accidentally spilled orange juice all over Xiao’s teletubbies backpack, and when he forgave you on the spot, you crowned him as your first bestie.

That was fifteen years ago. Holy shit.

He startles when you abruptly shoot back to your feet, earning yourself a perplexed stare from Xiao who just wants you to sit down and drink your damn tea—

“Is Beidou’s shop open?” you ask. “I want her to do our matching tatts.”

Xiao grimaces. “Our?”

You nod brusquely, tugging at his arm. “Yeah, I’m allowed to have matching tattoos with you, ‘cause you’ll never walk out of my life, right, Xiao?”

He’s always been a stubborn little shit, so you don’t really expect Xiao to relent as quickly as he does. You nearly stumble to the carpeted floor when he lets you pull him up—faces hovering so close to each other, you nearly choke on your own breath.

It doesn’t help that Xiao has definitely…put in a few inches of height. Back then, you used to tease him a lot for being taller than him, but now?

“Never,” he whispers so softly, you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren't as close to him as you are. “Now drink your stupid honey lemon tea so we can head to the shop.”

About two and a half hours later, you’re sitting on the vacant seats in the shop’s waiting lounge—a familiar sting still sizzling beneath your ribcage from where you had your first matching piece with Xiao permanently inked. You made him swear to have his own ‘XV’ tattoo made on the same place, and he makes good on his promise when he emerges from the workroom, wearing nothing but his dark-washed jeans.

Unlike yourself, you rarely see Xiao in various states of undress. The most skin you could get out of him on most days is the lean muscle of his tattooed biceps, and sometimes those are enough to have you staring dumbly at him for several minutes.

Now, though?

You learn that he has several tattoos on his torso—spread across his skin like patchwork. It makes you wonder if he did some of them himself, or if he had Beidou work on them for him. Still, despite the plethora of new ink stains to gawk at, his weird phoenix tattoo remains as your personal favorite.

Along with the newest piece he got not five minutes earlier—the tattoo he shares with you.

“Are you happy now?” he grumbles, letting you marvel at the perfect roman numerals just below the jut of his ribs. “It’s a good thing Beidou gave it to us free of charge, you know.”

You giggle. “All of my tatts so far have been free of charge.”

“That’s only because you’re special to me,” Xiao sighs before freezing up in the next moment—like he didn’t mean to let that slip aloud.

You smirk. “Mm? What was that? I didn’t hear you.”

“Fuck off.”

06.

Much to Xiao’s disappointment, your shitty taste in men doesn’t exactly end with Yin.

About three months after getting the tattoo to commemorate your fifteen years of best friendship, you meet Kaeya. He’s an exchange student, and you know better than to form any sort of attachment to someone who isn’t going to be in the same continent as you by next year.

But you let him in anyway.

You allow Kaeya to get to know you in ways that not even Xiao is familiar with. The smooth-talking foreigner likes to kiss every single one of your tattoos—lamenting the fact that they’re all inked in spots hidden from view. You laugh every time he brings it up, saying your parents are going to kill you and Xiao if they saw any of the pieces your best friend did for you over the last six years.

“That best friend of yours…” Kaeya muses once he’s done bringing you to paradise and back, smoking a cigarette that makes you wrinkle your nose with distaste. He would’ve been perfect, if only he wasn’t such a chronic chainsmoker. “He’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

You nearly fall off the bed at his bold declaration.

“W-What the fuck are you talking about?” you stammer. Xiao? In love? With you?

Kaeya shrugs. “I dunno, sweetheart. If I was a tattoo artist, I wouldn’t let anyone freeload my craft as many times as you did—even if you are my best friend. Unless I was down fucking bad for you, of course.”

Xiao doesn’t like Kaeya, but the reasoning behind it is a bit different from why he doesn’t like your ex. He knew Yin wasn’t a good match for you. Kaeya, though? The two of you had inarguable chemistry. The only problem was he was a free spirit that didn’t like to be tied down by commitments—something you clearly struggle with.

When you reassured Xiao that Kaeya is nothing but a way to scratch a passing itch, he merely scoffed and told you to do whatever you wanted.

Could his dismissiveness be because…he’s in love with you?

That can’t be right. You’re the one who knows Xiao best. If he hypothetically does catch feelings for someone—much less, you—you’ll surely be the first to notice, right?

Right?

Kaeya chuckles before tracing the XV tattoo along your ribcage with a cold finger—almost like he’s teasing. You roll your eyes before crawling back on top of your midnight lover, kissing him just to shut him up.

When you drop by Beidou's the next day, Xiao is nowhere to be found.

“Didn’t he tell you?” She gapes. “Our boy’s starting his own shop downtown! He had the soft launch and everything a week ago. I was wondering where you were.”

“Uh…”

You’re not sure how to break the news that Xiao has been giving you the cold shoulder ever since you got together with Kaeya. But finding out that he put up his own tattoo parlor without even telling you?

If Kaeya turns out to be right, and your best friend really was in love with you, he sure as hell wasn’t acting like it.

Deciding to play along with whatever game he’s playing, you make an appointment to get a new piece inked under a fake name. Xiao accepts it right away and schedules you for an early evening slot. You make it a point to arrive twenty minutes late just to get a rise out of him.

When he sees you at the entrance to his shop, you almost let yourself feel smug about the unadulterated surprise on his face. Almost. You’re still pissed off that he didn’t invite you to one of the most important milestones of his life.

He fulfills your request in silence—the French word for green inked unassumingly on the underside of your shoulder blades. Xiao doesn’t say a word about his evasiveness, nor does he address the fact that you, his literal best friend, are standing in the shop he’s kept a secret for god knows how long.

When he still refuses to talk, you slam your payment on top of a nearby table—intent on storming out of the building even if he hasn’t wrapped your newest piece in a protective layer of plastic yet. Xiao barks that he doesn’t want your fucking money, and you end up throwing your hands in the air, asking:

“Then what the hell do you want?”

You expected him to blow up in a fitful of rage. He’s never been good at anger management, you knew this well. But instead, he crosses the distance separating the two of you and crushes your mouths together.

“You,” he whispers hoarsely, desperately against your lips. “I’ve only ever wanted you.”

Kaeya calls you multiple times that night—even leaves a text message asking where you are and if you’re free. You aren’t able to answer any of them though. Not when you’re busy being railed into the next life by your best friend of fifteen—going sixteen—years in the same bed that Kaeya just had his way with you a week ago.

When Xiao’s lips graze each and every tattoo he personally inked onto your pliant body, it’s leagues different from when Kaeya does it. It’s like your best friend is leaving a trail of fire sizzling beneath your skin everywhere his mouth trails along your hypersensitive flesh.

Even the way he makes you fall apart from a blistering orgasm is ten times more intense than every session you had with Kaeya and Yin combined.

There’s no affection nor is there adoration in Xiao’s gaze as he fucks into you—golden eyes fueled by something carnal and zealous, but you knew better than to call that love.

When morning comes, Xiao isn’t here with you, and you don’t know which emotion to feel.

Kaeya, at least, has the decency to leave a note whenever he has to depart early. But all that your best friend leaves you with is a sinking feeling in your stomach, and a glaring realization that you did not want to make when you’re crying all alone in your apartment at the crack of dawn.

Kaeya was wrong. Xiao isn’t in love with you.

You’re in love with Xiao, and you immediately know you’re in deep fucking shit because of it.

07.

It’s two weeks into your mission of complete radio silence when Xiao finally breaks.

You’re in the middle of a pharmacology lecture when your phone buzzes in your pocket. You knew it wasn’t Kaeya because he’d already packed his things last week and headed back to his home country. The bastard even asked you for a quick farewell fuck, but you turned him down right away and gave him a kiss goodbye instead.

When you find out it’s a text message from the same person you’ve been trying to avoid all this time, you’re all too quick to parse through its contents.

Xiao: I'm sorry. Can we talk?

That’s how you wind up standing right outside of his new tattoo parlor.

You haven’t been able to take a good look at it the last time you were here—too frustrated with your best friend to really make sense of your surroundings. But he’s put up his new shop in a pretty good part of town. You wonder how Xiao managed to afford it all.

Then again, he’s been working at Beidou’s shop for years. You knew he had a decent number of regulars, as well as potential clients that are highly interested in his work.

For once, you let yourself be proud of him. Even if he didn’t put your name on the guest list for his soft launch.

Xiao looks a little sheepish when he lets you inside and flips the sign on the front door to give the two of you some privacy. You aren’t faring any better. The last time you saw him, he was balls-deep inside of you—fucking you like you’re the most despicable woman in the world.

“So there’s this…collage piece I wanted to try,” he starts, and you fight the urge to roll your eyes.

Of course when Xiao invites you over to talk, you shouldn’t have expected any actual talking to take place. That’s just not his style. He’d rather make up for whatever mistakes he made by inking another stupid tattoo on your body, but honestly? You’ll take whatever you can get.

When you saw his sketch of a Statue of David peppered with four-leaf clovers, you couldn’t even dream of parsing the meaning behind the piece. The only thing that makes you relent is an old memory of you and Xiao hunting for four-leaf clovers in your mother’s garden—even putting the effort to plant whatever you could find in a pot in hopes that they would grow bigger.

It takes him hours to complete the entire thing. This one is probably the most realistic piece he’s done for you, and you can’t help but watch the intense concentration on his face through the mirror on the wall as he inks it a few inches above the last tattoo he did for you.

You’ve never really realized how…breathtaking he looks like this.

His fringe falling across his pretty gold eyes, the comfortable set of his jaw as he focuses on his work, and the soft slope of his cupid’s bow despite how harsh the words that come out of his mouth can be.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

You really are in love with this guy.

When he’s finally satisfied with his work, Xiao puts down his machine before wiping a sheen of sweat off his brow. He already looks so fucking good while he’s working. How is it fair for him to look even more gorgeous right after the entire process?

“Come on, let’s wrap it up,” he says before stretching his limbs. The action makes the cropped shirt he’s wearing ride up his torso a little, and you’re teased with a glimpse of the tattoo he matches with you.

Your heart nearly leaps to your throat, and if it weren’t for the dull sting of your newest tattoo, you would’ve been entranced by the sight of him entirely.

“Sure,” you say, even if your heart is begging for you to just be honest with him. To let him know how you’ve felt all this time because frankly, you can’t keep carrying the weight of your own feelings for much longer.

But then you remember how…apathetic Xiao looked like the night he dared to tell you he wanted you. There was no love to be found in his animalistic gaze, and you fear that he’ll turn you even further away at the slightest hint of more-than-friendly affection from your end.

You can live with this. His fleeting yet heated touches. His deep, piercing stares.

You’ll do anything to preserve what you have with him now—even if that means sacrificing everything else you could still dream of.

08.

Sometimes, you think Xiao is making you hope on purpose.

Sure, your friendship was more or less salvaged after offering your Statue of David tattoo as a quiet apology. You’re back to teasing him for all the most minuscule things, and Xiao is back to being your voice of reason in no time.

These days, though, you don’t really have much time to hang out with him like you usually do. You’re in the last year of your nursing degree, and your shifts at the hospital on top of your regular academic workload render you much too exhausted to catch up with any of your friends. Xiao included.

But there comes a night when he visits you in your apartment when you’re busy studying for a tricky surgery exam—a bucket full of fried chicken, and a bottle of sparkling water in hand. What kind of fiend would turn away an unannounced blessing like that ?

You munch through the midnight snack Xiao brought for you all while forcing him to do your flashcards with you. He knows the drill, anyways. Though he’s been out of school for years, Xiao is still familiar enough with your study habits to be of substantial help during these trying times.

While you’re in the middle of differentiating the different types of sutures, though, he proposes an idea.

“It’s been a while since I inked you with a sewing needle and pen ink, isn’t it?”

You narrow your eyes, taking a swig of your carbonated drink as your gaze flickers to the pseudo-Orion’s belt on your right forearm. The third star has all but faded from view over the years.

“Yeah, why are you asking?”

Xiao rummages through his knapsack for a few seconds before bringing out what seems to be a small sewing kit, and a jar labeled ‘Indian ink’. You gulp in equal parts dread and anticipation.

“I figured out how to make the tatts stay longer,” he says, a gentle smile settling over his face. “You want me to give you a new one? I can even revive good old Orion, too.”

You sigh. Who are you to turn the love of your life down anyway?

Xiao gets to work while you’re lying sideways on your bed, flinching every now and again because he decided to outline the spitting image of the flower vase sitting on top of your nightstand along the curve of your waist.

Unlike your first experience with manual needling, your pain tolerance is much better. The only reason you’re squirming every time Xiao embeds the ink into your skin is because you’re fucking ticklish. All those years of being intimately acquainted with Beidou’s tattoo machine were all the sensory training you needed, it seems.

When Xiao is done with this piece, he pulls you into an upright position, making you hold out your arm so he could resurrect the first tattoo he ever gave you. You roll your eyes, but let him do as he pleases anyway.

At this point, you’ll let him do anything with you.

It’s nearly three in the morning when you’re putting away the dishes and glasses you and Xiao used for the night. He’s kind enough to throw out the trash while you clean up in the kitchen, and when he meets you back in the living room to exchange farewells, you don’t really want him to go.

“You have morning classes tomorrow, right?” he murmurs as he pulls you into a firm embrace, careful not to press down too hard on your new tattoo. “Take care. Don’t burn yourself out too much. All your hard work will be for nothing if you end up keeling over before graduation.”

You can’t help it. The soft timbre of his voice coupled with the fond look in his eyes tears all your defenses asunder. As you look up to meet Xiao’s uncharacteristically doting gaze, your chest twists more and more as you keep yourself from lunging in for a kiss.

“You’re such a pessimist, it’s almost funny how caring you sound,” you chuckle. “Go on, now. Shoo. It’s late.”

Before you can push him out of the door, however, Xiao catches you by surprise when he leans down to peck your lips. You stay frozen in place even as he pulls away—smiling so prettily, you can hardly believe this guy is your perpetually pissed off best friend.

“Good night.”

Unlike the last time he left you all alone in your apartment, you’re filled to the brim with an emotion you can’t quite name. It’s far from the emptiness that made a home in your heart when you thought you were in love with someone who didn’t love you back. But you’re not about to call it happiness either.

Whatever this strange feeling is, you let it sit in your chest for a while longer, and it lingers even when the memory of Xiao’s lips stops prickling against the skin of your own.

09.

On the day of your graduation, Xiao asks you to drop by his shop after the rites have concluded. You tell him that he’s self-centered as fuck, and that this is your day, so if he wants to use your body as a practice canvas again, he’s going to have to wait tomorrow.

You don’t tell him that you’re sulking because he didn’t even show up to congratulate you for surviving four gruesome years of nursing. But you suppose that someone who never went to college in the first place wouldn’t be the best at sympathizing with this particular milestone in your life.

He shows you his latest sketch when you make it to his shop the next morning—and you can’t contain the look of disbelief that colors your features when you realize what it is.

“A bouquet that’ll never wilt,” he chuckles, one finger expertly pointing out the flowers he’s drawn on the neat page. “Orchids and hydrangeas: your favorite. Violets: you press a bunch of these in books every summertime. Pink baby’s breath ‘cause you wouldn’t stop gushing about them at your sister’s wedding.”

You aren’t able to stifle the flattered giggle that spills from your lips. “Can’t believe you actually remember all that. What’s the lily of the valley doing there though?”

“Oh, this?” Xiao hums with one brow raised. “Your mom had lots of them in her old garden. Those are my favorite.”

“And, pray tell, why is your favorite flower going to be permanently tattooed on my body?”

Xiao doesn’t humor you with a verbal answer right away. Instead, he wheels his revolving seat closer to you so that he’s close enough to press your foreheads together. Your breath hitches when his mouth curves into a loving smile you’re starting to get used to seeing.

“Because you’re mine,” he says simply. “Now, are you going to tell me where you want me to ink your eternal bouquet or not?”

10.

You’re a complete sap when it comes to weddings. Everyone knows this.

It’s for that reason that none of your guests are surprised when you end up crying in the middle of exchanging vows with your fiancé. Xiao sighs before taking out a handkerchief from his front pocket, dabbing at the tears streaming down your face. For someone who comes on so tough to other people, you’re awfully sentimental.

“Sorry, sorry—” you sniffle, thanking every single god out there for the invention of waterproof mascara. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

The rest of the session proceeds swiftly. You get to kiss your best friend of more than two decades and call him your husband in front of some friends and family. The matrimonial rites were held in a private resort at the base of a mountain. Both you and Xiao wanted to preserve the intimacy of your wedding as much as you could. After all, you didn’t need all that flashy and grandiose wedding prep to prove to the world just how much you want to spend the rest of your life with Xiao.

Your thoughts stay the same even as he lays you down in the king-sized bed of the cabin you had to yourselves. He sighs in between kisses as he strips you off your wedding garbs. You’re surprised he’s taking his time with you. Xiao has been eye-fucking you since you started walking down the aisle. It was so bad that even Beidou made a few off-hand remarks about the sexual tension during the reception.

“I was thinking,” you breathe as he grinds his hips against yours, “of getting another tattoo. My last one.”

Xiao lifts his head for a moment, one brow arched. “You’re married to a tattoo artist, and you think the tattoo you’re getting after the wedding is your last one? You’re dreaming, princess.”

“Fine. Point taken.” You roll your eyes. “But anyway, I want a dragon tattoo riiiight…here.”

Your husband watches with rapt attention as you guide his hand to the spot you’re talking about—just below the collection of your favorite flowers inked above your waist is a blank stretch of skin. Xiao’s lips twitch into a fond smile as his calloused fingers graze your flesh.

“Still against having showy tatts?” he asks before pressing a soft kiss on the spot you pointed at.

“Mhmm. You see, my dad doesn’t care if I’m married and have my own life. If he sees that I have tattoos, he’s still going to murder me,” you chuckle. “So yeah, tatts are staying under my clothes until he grows old enough and forgets that he hates seeing ink on other people’s skin.”

“I’ll keep that in mind then.”

When Xiao ravishes you for the first time as your husband, your chest overflows with love for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have their best friends by their sides for as long as you did, yet you ended up tying the knot with yours. Although the entire process was more than twenty years in the making, you suppose there’s no point in rushing anything.

After all, Xiao is as permanent in your life just as much as the ink stains on your body.

“Look,” you chuckle once Xiao is done cleaning up in the bathroom and settles down right next to you on the bed, “Kaeya sent us a postcard. He says congrats on overcoming the emotional constipation.”

“Throw that thing away,” your husband grumbles, pulling you away from the pile of postcards on the nightstand. “Why are you even keeping touch with him still?”

“So I can use him as an excuse to get you jealous, and have you fuck me rough?”

“Oh, princess. If you wanted it rough…” he starts with a sigh, rolling his neck with a smirk. You gulp, wondering if you’ve bitten off more than you can chew this time around.

“All you had to do was ask.”

⟢ end notes: it's been a while since i wrote for genshin, so i hope you liked it! thank you sm for reading ^^

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin smut #genshin xiao #xiao fanfic #xiao smut #xiao x reader #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #cryoculus

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abstractnaturaldisaster · 1 month

Text

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part one

part two: if she's got blue eyes, i will surmise that you'll probably date her

Eddie had felt completely numb after leaving Steve's apartment. He wasn't really interested in doing anything with his band even though they definitely owed the studio a new album but Eddie wasn't feeling inspired after the abrupt departure of his most recent muse.

He didn't want to be that guy who wrote songs about his exes or aired dirty laundry in public through cryptic lyrics. It worked for other people but his band's vibe was a lot more fantasy and concept albumy and he couldn't quite find the energy to allegorize his current heartbreak. This is where the reality of the music industry really sucked because at some point their label didn't give a shit about Eddie's need to wallow and his manager could only negotiate so many extensions.

Thankfully, all previous qualms he had with writing about his ex and their breakup ended when he saw another fucking TMZ headline about Steve leaving a club with another model. This had to be the thirtieth person Steve had been tied to since their breakup. Eddie's best guess was that his pact with Robin to be each other's whatever to get the media off their back had ended.

Lyrics started flowing out of Eddie as he swiped out of twitter and into his notes app.

Your new girl is my clone And did you think I didn't see you? There were flashing lights At least I had the decency To keep my nights out of sight Only rumors 'bout my hips and thighs And my whispered sighs

Eddie knew it was probably a low blow to flaunt his escapades after he'd worked pretty hard to keep them under wraps. He didn't need the world to know he had pity sex with some random guy he picked up because he really got Eddie's last album. Eddie fucking hated how pretentious some fans were about his lyrics. Like sometimes a sword is just a sword, bestie. Anyways, an NDA and really shitty coffee later, Eddie pretended that mistake hadn't happened but was petty enough to make it clear to Steve that he wasn't the only one finding solace in someone else's bed.

He put together a rough melody on his acoustic and sent it over to his band to see what they thought. He wasn't sure if they'd be into it but it was fucking therapeutic to get the feelings out of his body that were festering there. Gareth was over the moon because he had been anti-Steve from the beginning and was super on board with some pretty boy actor directed snark. Ronnie, Jeff, and Freak were a little harder to bring around as they felt like they should at least sort of protect their darker brand but once Freak laid down a pretty sick base and Ronnie added some haunting piano it was undeniably a Corroded Coffin song. They packaged up a rough draft and sent it over to their producer to work his magic. Before Eddie knew it the song was approved for a sound on TikTok and Eddie and the band were thinking of video ideas to promote the single which would apparently be ready for streaming in the next month. Eddie wasn't quite ready to concede an entire angsty breakup album but it did at least feel good to get a start on producing what the studio was looking for.

Eddie sat back and scrolled through the sound on TikTok and thought about Steve's reaction to the sound or the single a perfectly healthy amount, thank you very much.

@lololol-1234 (it's not quite fixed yet but i hope you don't mind the tag)

part three

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #pls don't be mad at steve #i promise it will all make sense #eddie is not a reliable narrator #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

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bucknastysbabe · 1 year

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Hi Cal!

I was wondering if you can write something of Aegon pleasuring a female reader and just continues to praise her while doing so.

Hello! I did a short lil blurb on it! I feel like Aegon would be so sweet if he truly felt loved for once. Hope you like it :)

Nothing so sweet

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Praise kink, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, actual baby Aegon, afab reader

Aegon rarely was in a mood to pleasure a woman. He never even ventured between a whore’s legs throughout his vigorous sexual career. But the prince changed his mind with his new little dove. A lady-in-waiting of Helaena— the pretty little thing was of a lesser nobility but striking as a lady of the great houses.

He’d somehow wooed her, greatly enjoying the way she blushed and stammered under his attentions. When he got his hands between her legs the first time, Aegon’s desire to make the dove sing overwhelmed his need for the pillow houses.

The way she writhed and whimpered when he fingered her sopping cunt had the prince obsessed. He’d about stripped his cock raw remembering how she got teary and gasped his name when gushing slick all over his hand, scrabbling fingers at his neck and hair.

Now Aegon had her in his bed, naked as the day she was born. He grinned and clambered his way up the bed like a predator from the wild lands of Sothoryos. The prince remained halfway clothed— he didn’t give a shit about getting his dick wet at the moment. Aegon wanted her desire, her cunt, her noises.

The lady snapped her legs shut, gasping, “Don’t look at me like that!” Aegon grasped an ankle and mused, “What? I can’t look at my pretty dove’s body?” She blushed and pouted, lips poking out. He prodded, “Hm? You’re so breathtaking, never thought I’d even be one for such sap.”

She softened at that, whining, “Shut your mouth. You just want…to play.”

He didn’t like that kind of talk. The lady-in-waiting was more than a plaything to Aegon. She was perfect, divine even. He told her so, caressing the softness of her thighs, coaxing them open. Aegon laid on his belly, moaning softly at the pressure on his full cock. He murmured, “I’d sit and look at you all day if I could. You should be my lady-in-waiting.”

Her eyes peered down at him, a hand finding his and squeezing. She whispered, “Do you mean it my prince?” Aegon nuzzled her thigh, violet eyes intense. He said, “I’m not telling a lie— never been good at that. Let me worship you.”

“Oh Aegon,” she simpered and shivered under his gaze.

Taking that as the go-ahead, Aegon gently kissed up the expanse of her thigh. One ringed hand groped the pliant flesh while the other slid a thumb through her collected slick. The girl arched and shakily exhaled. The blonde had never done this before but he could get it, seen enough to do it.

Aegon breathed over her puffy cunt, helplessly rutting into the bed. He’d slid his pointer into her wet sex, pumping gently. She whined his name again, shifting on the silken bed. He cooed, “So perfect, opening up for me like that. My pretty dove.” His lashes fluttered at the tightness of her pussy.

Another finger slid in. He was rewarded with a cry.

Aegon watched with rapid interest as he curled his fingers into that spongey spot, watching the lady cry and rock her hips on his digits. He panted, “Perfect baby, so good, such a good girl.” In a fit of desire he sealed his lips over her swollen button, sucking roughly. She shook and let out a wail, grabbing onto his hair.

Aegon licked and sucked on the sensitive bud until she was mewling his and quietly crying. He pulled back and groaned, “Gods- I don’t know how you sound so good dove, are you feeling good?” He had a third finger in her now, rutting the bed frantically. She cried, “So good! Don’t stop please- mh!”

Aegon panted breathlessly, “Not going to sweetling, not until I get you to cum all over my fingers and I lick it up. Taste as sweet as you sound.” He couldn’t help but run his mouth aimlessly when so transfixed by her glistening skin and divine sounds. She moaned, “Oh gods, so close, Aegon, Aegon!“ Her cunt pulsed around the intruding digits, Aegon curling his fingers in rapid motions now.

“C’mon dove, c’mon,” he urged, wide eyes searching her own. He suckled on her clit again, grinning around her when the woman seized like she’d been struck. She babbled and cried, thighs clamping down around him while her hips rolled frantically. Aegon spilled into his breeches with a whimper when she gushed on his chin and fingers.

He licked her up as promised. The lady-in-waiting protested weakly, “Aegon- ah! T-too much!” The prince pulled back from her oversensitive cunt with a smile, licking his lips luridly. He commented, “That was perfectly divine my little dove. You sing so sweet.” She only whimpered his name, eyes still wet from the climax.

He crawled up her body, snuggling the worn dove into his arms. Aegon nuzzled and pressed feathery kisses on her cheeks and forehead, praising, “You did so well, always do so well.” She mumbled sleepily, “You’re too kind your grace.” Aegon laughed bitterly, “No, you for putting up with my nonsense. Rest my sweet, I’ll have to put you back in your cage tomorrow.” He uttered more soft compliments until the woman’s face grew lax in sleep.

#aegon ii targaryen #hotd fanfic #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon ii x reader #hotd smut #answered ask #asks open

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ghulehunknown · 6 months

Text

And He Sees Nothing Wrong With That

Terzo x F Reader

“You know you need to be punished for being too seducente”

Flashback Friday! Bringing back one of my first ever fics from AO3 and posting it here

Summary: Jealousy plagues Terzo’s mind after an unproductive and frustrating clergy meeting, and he sets out to prove you are his.

CW/Tags: sexual innuendo and humor, dry humping, oral sex (F receiving), public oral sex, vaginal fingering, light dom/sub, light degradation, light possessive behavior, spanking, established relationship, porn with plot

Word Count: 2.5K

On Saturday you headed into the chapel for a large meeting with Papa and several members of the clergy. You would finally be discussing the details of the next ritual installments.

During the first meeting of the day, Copia and one of the bishops kept staring at you and whispering to each other. Copia stole quick glances in your direction over and over. You quickly straightened the veil of your habit, feeling self conscious. Maybe they weren’t talking about you? You weren’t wearing anything revealing that day, your veil wasn’t out of place…So what could it be? You never had much interaction with the Cardinal before. You didn’t intend to return the looks but you couldn’t help your eyes darting back and forth through the pews to make sure if he was actually looking or not.

Terzo noticed this right away, and looked between you two while he was at the pulpit speaking. He paused momentarily, as he caught Copia’s eyes, then resumed speaking. “Ah sì, the fucking tour…” he trailed off, flipping through pages. “It’s going to be called the…” he traced his fingers along the paper and tapped it once he found the words. “Ah dio mio who wrote this shit?!”

You saw Copia frown a little and cross his arms. Slightly disgruntled, Terzo continued. “It’s the fucking Popestar Tour.” He gestured to himself, almost sarcastically showing off his full Papal regalia, and giving a little curtsy.

“I’m sorry, the Fucking Popestar Tour - are we fucking the audience now?” one of the other cardinals called out, garnering a few snickers from the clergy.

“What?” said Terzo.

Omega crumpled up his papers into a ball from the back pew and threw it at that cardinal’s head, nailing his target perfectly. The cardinal turned around to the ghoul, making foul gestures with his hands and cursing Satan’s name at him.

“Actually that’s a good idea!” piped up Copia for the first time in an hour, leaning forward in the front pew. That smart fucker, you thought. Pretend to sing praises of your Papa in front of the whole clergy while tearing him apart. He continued to glance towards you. You instinctively looked in his direction, now trying to warn him off from going any further, but he continued. “Papa Emeritus, we can barely afford these garments,” he said gesturing to Terzo’s robes. “Accounting is stretched thin, so we really should be thinking of ways to generate profit.”

Terzo shot a dark look in Copia’s direction, quickly shutting the Cardinal up. “Sì sì, like we have the time to line them up outside in the parking lot,” Terzo mused sarcastically. “You know,” he quipped, pointing his finger at Copia, boasting, “the shows have gotten bigger since I became Papa.” He glanced back at you and then to the audience.

“That’s perfect!” exclaimed one of the bishops. “Take a ride on the Pope - we’ll add it to the meet and greet experience!” (“Cazzo, that’s not what I meant,” said Terzo, though it fell on deaf ears.) The bishop clasped his hands together. “Hey, get HR on this immediately. Tack on an extra fifty euros to the regular meet and greet,” he murmured to the sister sitting next to him, who began scribbling on her clipboard. The rest of the audience murmured in agreement.

“Fifty…?” you could see Terzo mouth the words incredulously.

“Yes but how do we implement the fucking?” the sister asked. “Imperator will want to know the details.”

“Do we provide the condoms or does the audience?” someone else asked.

“Who said we’re using condoms?” shouted Rain, who sat in the back pews with the other ghouls. The younger ghouls whispered excitedly to each other and laughed boisterously. Alpha and Omega each took a turn to smack the younger ghouls on the back of the head, nearly knocking their masks off.

“We should definitely provide them,” said Copia. “You can’t trust any of these motherfuckers nowadays.”

“Who’s in charge of branding?” asked one of the cardinals. “They’ll be able to come up with something clever to put on the wrappers.”

“Cum Together!” said the sister, wagging her pen in the air, and continued writing furiously on her clipboard. Several clergy members nodded in agreement.

“Sì, just make it one big orgy,” added Copia, smiling sneakily, looking at you again. He chuckled. “You know, one time I went to an orgy - ”

“You shut up,” Terzo said, pointing a finger at Copia. Copia looked back at him offended but immediately snapped his mouth shut.

“Yes but HR will want to know the details - we need waivers a-and STD screenings - ” chimed in the sister, worriedly counting on her fingers before Terzo cut her off.

“No, no one is fucking me!” Terzo shouted. The room fell silent and he paused for a moment. “Not that cheaply anyway,” he added dryly, looking back through his notes to get back to the topic at hand. He scoffed and muttered under his breath, “Not since college…incredible.” He rolled his eyes and continued.

He finally calmed the audience down and finished speaking, then dismissed the clergy in a hurry to reconvene in fifteen minutes.

Copia leaned across the aisle to your pew before he left. “It was a good idea, no?” He shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the back pews to strike up conversation with the others.

Feeling annoyed, you turned back to him and started to say something but thought better of yourself and turned to face Terzo. Your eyes met his, and you shifted uncomfortably in your seat. Oh shit, you thought, knowing just how this looked to him. You gathered your belongings and headed to the altar to start setting up the communion for mass later in the evening.

Terzo remained where he stood, gripping the sides of the pulpit as the clergy milled out of the front doors, tapping his fingers on the sleek mahogany. You could hear the gold nails on his leather black gloves click rhythmically against the wood. You gazed along his profile; he wore a frown and raised an eyebrow, looking straight ahead.

Once most of the clergy left, he walked over to the altar where you stood. “Come here, Sorella!” You tried to look busy to avoid the intensity of his gaze. His papal face paint looked even more menacing in the light of the chandelier, the light only picking up the white paint and his white eye. He seemed taller when he wore his mitre and full papal robes.

He grabbed the large silver Grucifix next to you and clutched your hair, forcing you face down and bending you over the altar. “We talked about this, Sorella. You understand the consequences, sì?”

You yelped. “Papa wait - ”

“Silence,” he commanded, pushing up your skirt and paddling you square on the ass with the metal cross. You let out a small moan. Fuck, why did that feel good? Your skin stung, mostly from the cold of the metal, as he wasn’t intending to mark you - only making a metaphorical point of who you belonged to.

“Yes, Papa,” you said, resigning while feeling your heart beat with excitement.

He tore down your panties to your ankles, spat into his hand, and shoved two clawed, gloved fingers into your pussy, unrelentingly moving them in and out. You moaned louder this time.

The two cardinals who were still in the back of the hall murmured and quickly shuffled out the front door.

“Sei mia,” he whispered menacingly quiet in your ear. He groped your left breast as he dry humped your thigh from behind, his golden nails still gripping you inside. “You know you need to be punished for being too seducente, si?”

You whined, the pain from his slap still stinging and his gold nails prodding your soft interior flesh. “Yes Papa I was so stupid,” you choked out, clinging to the cold marble altar for support. You could feel his rock hard erection prod into your thigh through his robes. He lifted up your leg to go deeper inside your cunt, now raw from his claws pounding into you feverishly.

He sighed contentedly. “You’re so tight, Sorella. I can feel you getting wetter with every touch, these gloves are sliding in so easily now. Cazzo!” he exclaimed, rubbing his clothed erection on your thigh in fervent passion. “You’re going to be moaning when the next session begins - just like my goddess should. Sei così futto bellissima. You are mine, and I am yours. I want the whole fucking clergy to see you’re mine, and show that idiota Copia his place. He thinks I’m some joke? I’ll show him.” He grabbed your jaw with his free hand. “You hear me?”

You nodded in his hand. “Terzo, my beloved, there’s nothing going on there! Please, believe me - ”

He pulled your hair back so you could see into his eyes. “I know bella mia, he’s just a prick. And he’s been making eyes at you. And how could he not - sei la più bella qui.” He relinquished the grasp on your hair, your hairline aching from his tight grip, and he swung your head back down to the marble. He continued fingering you from behind, pinning you down with his other arm to keep you from moving wildly by his frenzied, almost desperate touch. He kept looking towards the door. “Where’s your phone?” he asked.

You whined, barely able to utter another word.

“Your phone, your phone, principessa!” he urged.

You wanted to ask where his was but could only manage a few guttural moans and pointed to the floor, where your phone flew out of your habit moments earlier.

He bent down and picked it up to look at the lock screen, never breaking his rhythmic thrusts with his hand. He grunted and mumbled, “He knows better than to text you when I’m right here.” You leaned over to see 12:53 - seven more minutes until the next meeting was supposed to reconvene. “We can figure out how to kill time,” he said, finally easing up on you, now slowly entering you with just his index finger. “That’ll teach that stupido uomo ossessionato dai ratti not to covet what does not belong to him. Voglio assaporarti.”

Fuck, he really was going to one-up Copia.

He flipped you over so your back laid against the cool marble. He hovered over you and stared deep into your eyes as he slipped his gloved fingers out of you and into his mouth, moaning, tasting you. “Deliziosa,” he said. He slid two fingers back inside your dripping wet pussy, rolling his thumb over your clit. You grinded your hips against his hand, clutching the edge of the altar, hoping to hurry up your encounter before anyone else came back in. Small, wet sounds echoed along the stone walls.

You both glanced back at your phone - 12:55. The Cardinal was usually annoyingly early.

“Who makes you feel good?” he asked loudly.

“You do, Papa!” you screamed.

“Who do you belong to?” he demanded.

“You, Papa!”

“You would never leave me, not for him?” This last question sounded wounded, not a command. He broke your gaze briefly, looking at the floor, his long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks. He quickly flicked his eyes back to yours.

Why would he ask these questions? “Never my love,” you whispered, whimpering at his touch. Your clit quivered under his thumb, and your wet cunt contracted around his digits.

“Good girl.” He spread your legs apart, and ravished you with his tongue, flicking wildly around your clit and motioning a come-hither inside you with his index finger. You grabbed the sides of the altar in euphoria. Your body convulsed around him, your thighs wrapping around his neck. You lost control as your body tensed and released, Terzo moving expertly in rhythm with your hips, and you cried out in ecstasy, your ardent moans for your lover echoing through the chapel walls. Your arousal came flooding out of you, and Terzo latched his lips around your labia and sucked deeply, drinking you.

He gulped and chuckled, as he continued to finger you while he looked up. You followed his gaze to the front of the chapel, where Copia and several cardinals and bishops stood, mouths agape at the sight before them.

You quickly shoved him off you and pulled down your habit to cover yourself, but it was too late as they likely walked in just as you were wailing like an animal for your Papa.

“Are you quite finished?” one of the bishops asked, annoyed.

Copia was red in the face and glanced away as Terzo stared at him. He brought his arousal soaked fingers to his mouth again, exaggeratedly sucking them clean. “Oh sì, ho concluso il mio lavoro,” he said, answering the bishop but grinning at Copia, his face paint smeared around his mouth and chin.

You blushed, embarrassed; yet you tried to hide a grin yourself, because that was one of the most thrilling experiences of your life. You slid off the altar and stood beside Terzo, trying to conceal putting your underwear back on by standing behind his vestments. You held onto his shoulder for support, your legs shaking like mad.

Copia slowly made his way up the steps, papers and Unholy Book in hand, eyeing the altar where you just laid. You had left behind a small pool of your arousal - and probably some of Terzo’s saliva as well. “I see,” he muttered, a disgusted look on his face as he tried to find a clean surface to place his things. The remaining cardinals and bishops took their seats, eyeing Terzo with trepidation. It looked like everyone - Copia especially - had several words to say, but their place was beneath Papa.

Terzo grabbed you by the shoulders to whisk you away, and you both broke out into laughter as you made your way to the pews. As it was the Cardinal’s turn to lead this meeting, Terzo happily took his place in the second row pew, propping up his feet up on the back of the first row and leaning back contentedly with his hands behind his head. He proudly wore his smudged paint and the scent of you like a badge of honor. You took your place beside him, still stifling laughter.

Copia flipped through his Unholy Book, trying not to look at the two of you entwined in an embrace. Terzo kissed you on the temple, looking at Copia. “Cardinal, I know it must be hard for you to imagine such a passionate embrace, seeing as you’ve never pleased a woman…but this is how it’s done.”

Copia slammed his book shut and started to speak but suddenly fell silent. “Sister Imperator,” Copia said, bowing his head slightly in respect.

Imperator came entering the chapel and took her place a few rows behind you, on the opposite side of the aisle - almost as if to keep a close watch on you.

Terzo sank down into the pew, pulling up his robes to cover his face, as if that would make him invisible. You looked behind your shoulder, and caught a glimpse of her stern face.

What trouble would you be in now?

Italian to English Translations

- dio mio (my god)

- Cazzo (fuck)

- Sei mia (you’re mine)

- seducente (seductive)

- Sorella (Sister/Nun)

- Sei così futto bellissima (You are so fucking beautiful)

- Idiota (idiot)

- bella mia (my beauty)

- sei la più bella qui (you’re the prettiest here)

- principessa (princess)

- stupido uomo ossessionato dai ratti (stupid rat-obsessed man)

- Voglio assaporarti (I want to savor you)

- Deliziosa (delicious)

- Ho concluso il mio lavoro (I’ve finished my job)

#the band ghost #ghost bc #ghost band fanfic #ghost band smut #papa emeritus x reader #terzo #terzo fanfiction #terzo x reader #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus iii x female reader #terzhoe #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfiction #terzo smut

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magnolia-among-the-stars · 1 year

Text

Thinking About Love [hangman PT. 6/?]

PART OF MY “WHATEVER THIS IS” SERIES WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE

PAIRING: JAKE ‘HANGMAN’ SERESIN x Female Plus Size Bartender!Reader

NICKNAME: Sunshine

It goes without saying but I do not give permission for anyone to use my work or copy it somewhere else.

Want to be added to the tag list for this character, all stories or another character? let me know here :)

PLOT: Penny Benjamin's niece works at The Hard Deck, saving the money she earns to get out of the west coast and put herself through Graduate School. What happens when a pretty boy pilot ends up as her fake boyfriend?

PART ONE / PART TWO / PART THREE / PART FOUR / PART FIVE / PART SIX / PART SEVEN / PART EIGHT / PART NINE / PART TEN / PART ELEVEN / FINAL PART

You grumbled as you wrapped another strand of hair loosely over the large barrel of the curling iron, finishing up and flicking the off switch. Your dress is lacy, form fitting and white with a high collar matched the worn leather of your vibrant green riding boots. You tuck the costume cowboy hat over your hair lazily before touching up your lipstick.

It’s been a few nights since Jake was top of you, his strong body pressing yours into the soft plush material of your couch, but you still felt ever since inch of his weight. His large, strong hands roaming over the soft flesh of your hipbones and his fingertips twisting into your hair as he devoured you. You smooth your hands over yourself, hoping for a taste of his touch but nothing comes close to soothing the burning in beneath your skin.

The doorbell rings though and anticipation is gone as you rush quickly down the hallway to pull the door open. One look at him pulls every gasp of air from your lungs, eyes racking over his frame with a new found hunger. He’s dressed in all black, his button up matching his dark jeans and his heeled boots. His Stetson hangs low on his head over his eyes and a toothpick dangling from his smooth lips. His scruff is grown in more and he looks at you like you’re his prey for the night, his catch for the season.

It makes you wet.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” he’s embraced his southern accent for the evening, thickening it purposefully to a lower tone. It sends a shiver up your spine, “Aren’t you looking like you stepped out of my dreams.”

“Careful now cowboy,” you mused, stepping back to twirl, “Those are fighting words.” You can feel his eyes burning into the exposed flesh of your legs, the supple curve of your ass.

Jake steps into the house, his hands held behind his back. You stare at his accusingly, suspicious of the way he moves until he finally reaches up and knock the shit hat off. His other hand comes out from behind his back and pushes a new hat down onto your head slowly. The brim of the Stetson is perfect, the curve stylish as he smiles with glee at your appearance.

“Is this a Stetson?”

“Hell yeah, darlin’,” Jake grins, palming your jaw and his thumb stroking your cheek sweetly.

“Jake,” a pout forming on my lips as I search his eyes. “What the fuck?”

“What?”

“This is your Stetson?” I ask.

“No.” His answer is distant as he tilts the dark brim of his Stetson and his lips brushing against your exposed shoulder.

“Jake,” I push his forehead so that I can see his green eyes, twinkling with amusement, “Tell me you didn’t buy me a Stetson.”

“I’m not going to lie to you Sunshine,” Jake murmurs deeply in your ear, my eyes slowly closing to relish the sensation of his wet kisses along the column of my neck. “That’s not in my nature.” You let him kiss up your neck and to your temple, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before pulling back.

“We should get moving before you do something you’ll regret, cowboy,” I say, kissing his jaw before stepping back from the intoxicating warmth of his body. He groans, scanning you over with a lick of a smile before interlacing your hands. He tugs you through the door, locking it behind him and leading you out to his silver Chevy truck.

“Are we taking the truck?” you ask slowly as his fingertips pull you along passed the truck’s bed and onto the street.

“I figured we’d both drink too much and I’d rather leave the truck here,” Jake muses, eyes sparkling as he turns to stare at you. “Gives me a reason to take you home.” Jake’s been bold before, his words confront with their impact as he compliments you but there’s a different air around him tonight. Waves of electricity race through you at his thick drawl, his brazen gaze. There’s a new level of confidence in his step while he strolls along in his Stetson. Never did you think your kinks included a southern man, but you’d save a horse any day of the week at this point.

You swallowed down the nerves as Nat’s house comes into view. This is Jake you are talking about and so you swing your hips, step ahead of him slightly and call over your shoulder in the best southern belle accent you can muster, “Who said you’ll be takin’ me home tonight?” You pick up your pace slowly but surely as Jake’s heels slam against the pavement as he speeds up. Jake’s arms circle around you, his biceps bulging as he swings you around. A giggle rolls off your lips at the motion and suddenly, you’re staring into his forest greens again.

Jake chews one last time on his toothpick before flicking it away onto the grass, pulling you in by the neck to press a searing kiss to your glossy lips. You let out a high-pitched moan as your mouths move feverishly against each other. When he finally releases you, his chest rising and falling as he doesn’t leave your personal space. His hot breath fans over your face as he growls “I’m the only man to take you home tonight.”

His words have you mindlessly nodding, reaching up to slide your nails over the nape of his neck. You scrap slowly before tugging him back in for another kiss. “You’re disgusting,” you hear from a distance and when you pull back, Rooster is shaking his head at the two of you. His disgruntled face matches his old man from Up costume perfectly, his large frame hunching over a walker as he moves into the house slowly. You can’t help the giggle that ripples through you and before you know it, Jake’s face is buried in your neck as he joins in your laughter.

When you finally make it inside the house, the party of aviators is in full swing, and the music is buzzing as you shuffle through the door with Jake’s hands on your hips. You’re already swaying to the Billie Eillish music as Nat jumps up at the sight of the both of you, pushing you toward the makeshift photobooth of sheets and balloons.

“You’re such a hot couple, it makes me sick,” she pulls out her phone to snap a few photos as you and Jake pose together. On the last photo, Jake twirls you around, dipping you slowly as she snaps away. He’s grinning down at you, a Cheshire smile as he pulls you up right. “I’m stealing your girlfriend, go make her a drink. The liquor is in the kitchen,” she mentions before clenching your wrist to drag you away from Jake.

You throw a kiss his way before disappearing into the crowd where your friends and Jake’s coworkers are crowded around until she gets to the slider door. Outside, there’s a few heaters throughout the yard and a couple girlfriends are lounging over the patio couch. It’s then that I have a chance to take in Nat’s outfit. A fun chromatic alien look, her tousled hair is twisted up into two space buns and secured with an antenna headband.

“There she is, the smoking gun!” Aries squeals, tittering on her high heels as she rises to her feet and jumps on you. Her metallic, shiny material of her jumpsuit matching Nat’s. Her cute face is speckled with gemstones as she squeezes you tightly.

“You look so hot,” Gemini adjusts the hood of her Winnie the Pooh onsie as she takes another sip of her solo cup. “Is that a real cowboy hat?”

Nat goes to grip the brim of your hat and tug it off your head when a strong hand slaps her hand away. “You don’t touch a cowboy’s Stetson Phoenix,” he scolds her, fingertips sliding over the top of your ass slowly as he hands you a drink.

“Tequila sunrise for my Sunshine.”

“Thank you, Tex,” I take a few sips of his drink before leaning up to kiss the rough scruff of his jaw and landing a soft glossy kiss on his lips.

He pats you on the bum, twice. “I’m going to go have a cigar on the front porch if you need me,” he hums, lavishing in the taste of orange juice and grenadine before unwrapping himself from you. He tips his hat to the group with a strong “Ladies,” and disappears into the house.

The women squeal around you, dragging you around to the couch to settle down. “Oh my god, he is so in love with you,” Aries says and sighs, “It makes me sick.”

“Oh stop it.”

“He bought you a Stetson,” Nat responds, staring pointedly at you as she takes a gulp of her beer. They all lean in, waiting for your response but you only shrug. There has been a different air about what happened lately, the two of you moving in a different direction. Maybe there was a chance…

Later that night, Jake finds you on the dance floor. You’re spinning from the flowing tequila and when you taste his lips, there’s a smoky sweetness of bourbon smeared into his DNA. It causes a wave of heat run through you as his thigh slots between yours and his mouth finds your ear while the two of you grind to the bass of the music. You feel like you’re the only ones in the room underneath the brims of your hats, as you kiss his bottom lip and stare up at him through your lashes.

“Jake,” your voice is shaky as you step back when the song ends, searching his face as you step back slightly. He’s watching you with narrowed eyes, assessing you as another song picks up. “Jake, take me home.” The typically secure and bold man is still, his hands on his hips.

You step back into his personal space, manicured nails splaying out on his chest as you lean up to his cheek. “Take me home, cowboy,” you rasp, teeth grazing over the shell of his ear as you pull back. And that’s it. That snaps him out of this trance as he suddenly moves double time like he’s just been called back into the air, back into action. Jake clamps down on your wrist, not hard enough to hurt you but tight enough to make his presence a blazing reminder of the heat between the two of you.

You’re snaking through the house until fresh air greets you and you don’t even realize how fast you’re moving down the street until he pivots on a whim. Jake’s pressing you into the cool sage green metal of a lamp post as you kiss each other deeply, want seeping from your pores.

“Tell me to drop you off at home,” he grunts as you as his front pushes into your dress. You can feel the tight stretch of his jeans, the strain of his bulge against you. “Tell me not to come inside your home with you and send me home.” He’s begging now between licks of tongue and teeth, but the fire has consumed you, burning a flame only he can put out.

“No,” I taunt, the whisper so quiet it nearly escapes into the night. “I won’t.”

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@ceilingfann

@rosiahills22

@child-of-sunshine

@callsign-scully

@hopefulinlove

@cevans-winchester

@double-j

@blue-aconite

@callsign-hummingbird

@romanoff13-blog-BLOG

@rosiahills22

@kajjaka

@sylviaes99

@chaoticassidy

@child-of-of-the-sunshine

#top gun #top gun maverick #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #hangman #hangman imagine #hangman angst #hangman seresin x reader #top gun hangman

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mamamittens · 1 year

Text

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 15 END)

Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Crew (Ft. Others) & Reader Insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: Yandere behavior. Mild spoilers for Gear 6 iykyk. If yandere content makes you uncomfortable, please do block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any variation of 'one piece yandere' that you feel is necessary.

Aside from AU romance endings with characters per request, this is the end! Marco and Luffy confirmed, btw. Now, I'm going to be playing Tears of the Kingdom so my responses will be slow lol

But thanks everyone for being here and enjoying this fic until now, expect it to be on AO3 soon!

Word Count: 2,043

It was a minor miracle that Ace’s little ship made it through the blast that rocked Banaro island. Likely because it was made to handle Ace’s normal fire-shenanigans. It didn’t exactly have room for three on it, but that’s only if you’re of the opinion that people need personal space. Something that, as someone who has been thoroughly grounded, you apparently didn’t need. Marco held you to his chest as he sat in front of the ‘bucket’ where Ace fueled the engine with his fire. You suspect that he was using his phoenix legs to hold into the sides but couldn’t confirm with your poor eyesight.

If he wasn’t partially transformed to hold you both in place it was impressive considering the breakneck speed Ace pushed the Striker at.

You drifted off several times only to find that you three were still traveling. It was only when you woke up starving that you saw Ace lean Striker towards a landmass.

“We’ve made really good time. This island has an optometrist so we can get you new glasses.” Marco spoke into your ear softly despite the wind whipping by you. Not feeling like fighting to be heard, you nodded your head.

Ace expertly pulled the boat up to the docks, tying it off and offering his hand for Marco and yourself. After well over a day at sea, you were a bit shaky but pleased to find you didn’t trip. The docks blurred into what you assumed to be a marketplace, both Marco and Ace finding a reason to keep a hand on you as they guided your path into a shop.

You were utterly relieved when you were handed a new pair of glasses after a few tests. The thick lenses shifting the impressionist blurs into sharp contrasting shapes once again.

Marco gave Ace a sly look.

“You know, I thought I saw the Thousand Sunny on the other side of the docks.” Marco mused, watching Ace’s face abruptly light up.

“We should go see them!” Ace looked at Marco in excitement. When he nodded in acceptance, Ace grabbed your hand and pulled you along eagerly. “You’ll finally get to meet my little brother properly! Lu’s got a great crew you know—his chef is top notch, I’m sure he won’t mind making us something to eat!”

You laughed, using your free hand to make sure your glasses didn’t bounce off your face so soon after getting them.

“Do you even know if they’re on board?!” You asked as Ace tore through the town in his rush.

“Eh, it’s fine! Luffy won’t mind if I drop by!” Ace proclaimed. You looked behind you to find Marco gone. Hopefully he decided to just fly there rather than fight to keep up through the crowds.

The Thousand Sunny was a pretty big ship with a cute lion’s head on the mast with a pointy mane like the sun. The gangplank was out so Ace just steamed up it with you in tow.

“LUFFY!” Ace screamed out, whipping his head around as Marco landed on deck with an indulgent smile. There was a crash somewhere below and thudding steps.

“ACE!” Straw Hat slammed open the door with a wide, excited grin.

“Stop BREAKING SHIT, LUFFY!” A woman screamed from below, quickly following her captain. Straw Hat wasn’t listening as he launched himself at Ace, arms stretching out and wrapping around his brother as he laughed. Ace gripped his brother’s red vest, swaying the two of them in loose circles.

“Did ya get ‘em? Did ya?!” Straw Hat asked childishly as a young woman with orange hair emerged from below, panting for breath from running.

“Sure did, Lu! See, I—We—Even rescued our crewmate.” You raised your hand and smiled.

“Sup.” Straw Hat’s eyes were wide as he finally noticed you were there.

“Eh?!? What happened to you?!” Straw Hat asked, arm stretching out to drag you in close. While you looked way better than before, you were still wrapped with bandages to keep your healing wounds from getting irritated from the high speeds of the Striker. Marco had been strangely dragging out the healing process—or possibly you were just that exhausted that your fruit didn’t properly share the powers just yet.

Straw Hat’s fruit still thrummed against your skin. A calling of the drums that resonated in your chest with that snappy, elastic taste that made you want to smile.

“Well, I got launched out of a sudden volcano and then hitched a ride in Mao’s mouth.” You explained, tolerating the gentle manhandling as Luffy squeezed you into the hug with Ace.

“Mao?” The young lady asked.

“Yeah. Mao. They might be here, actually. Baby~!” You called out shamelessly.

There was a deep, resonating call from the sea as Mao rose up. You squirmed free and ran to the side of the ship.

“Mmmmaaaoooo~! Maaooo~!” Mao called out, leaning down for gentle pets.

“Baby! Pretty baby, lookachu! Ahah~!” You laughed, stroking their nose as Straw Hat laughed behind you.

“Cool! Ace! You didn’t tell me they were friends with a sea king!” Straw Hat ran up and reached out his hand.

“L-Luffy!? Don’t get close to it! You don’t know if it’ll eat you! Can somebody talk sense into him!?”

You grabbed Straw Hat’s hand and gently placed it under Mao’s jaw.

“Mao’s a baby still, so their scales aren’t completely hardened yet. A little scratching right here feels nice cause that’s usually where they start shedding.” You explained softly, Straw Hat absolutely enraptured with a wide, beaming grin. He looked back at his brother.

“This is a baby?!” Ace shrugged his shoulders helplessly and you grinned.

“Yep! Sea Kings grow a lot before they reach maturity. It’s when they grow whiskers that you know they’re fully grown!” You declared.

“Wow! How do you know that?!” You chuckled, pushing up your glasses.

“My home island was near a sea king nest!” You laughed, “But they didn’t tend to go near the island, so we just knew by proxy.”

“I heard we had guests?” A blond man ducked his head out, catching sight of Ace before sighing. “I’ll fire up the stove. Two Ds… sheesh.”

“Join my crew!” Straw Hat asked with starry eyes. You saw Marco and Ace stiffen with Ace looking conflicted. You couldn’t help but laugh and smile wryly.

“No can do. I’m grounded. Sides, you guys aren’t ready for the Grand Line yet.” You tipped your head to the side, expanding your still sore senses. “You have two other devil fruit users that are pretty strong but it only gets harder from here on out. I can’t be a crutch.” You sighed.

Straw Hat pouted.

“What do you mean?” You looked at him with a bit of an indulgent smile. You get why Straw Hat was viewed as a rising star in piracy. But charisma would only get him so far.

“My devil fruit can influence other devil fruits. Make them stronger—or as I realized recently—negate them completely. You… tell you what, ask me again when you find the drums.” You poked his chest teasingly. Everyone looked confused. “…What is your devil fruit power?”

“I’m a rubber man!” Straw Hat declared.

You gave a soft, mysterious smile, finally giving into the impulse to ruffle his hair through his hat.

“Are you sure about that? Find the drums, Straw Hat, and then maybe I’ll join you.” You said. If he managed to find the limits of his devil fruit all on his own, he would probably not suffer the same hubris as your previous ‘partners’. Ace and Marco hadn’t despite being in close contact with you, after all.

Straw Hat huffed, face twisting with determination.

“Fine! I’ll find those drums, wherever they are, and then you’ll join my crew!”

Marco looked like he ate a lemon with Ace not much better, though oddly a little touched in spite of himself. Like he was proud but not sure of what.

--*--

The Moby Dick came into view rapidly with Ace whooping in joy, firing off sparks to let the crew know of your approach. There was, even over the wind, cheers as Ace pulled up close to the ship.

Ace swept you up into his arms and leapt up, planting his feet firmly on the railing as Marco sighed and followed suit. You laid in his arms awkwardly, thinking that this time was hardly any better than your first time on board.

Whitebeard laughed, grinning as Ace skipped over.

“We’re back, Oyaji!”

“Welcome home, my children.” You sighed, not surprised in the least as Ace sat on Whitebeard’s knee.

Whitebeard looked at you, taking in the mostly superfluous bandages.

“Surprisingly, it’s good to be back.” You grumbled without any heat.

Did it still weird you out? Absolutely. You don’t get what any of them saw in you that inspired such ferocity as to track you down across the Grand Line to get you back.

Whitebeard’s smile softened.

“I’m glad you all returned safely.” He murmured as someone stomped up to the main deck.

“You’re back!” Thatch cried out joyously, his usual chef ensemble swapped for loose pants and a shirt. Clearly, he was still on light duty as the nurses nearby scolded him for running. You elbowed Ace to let go and hopped down to the floor, aware that everyone was watching as you approached the suddenly nervous chef.

He glanced around for a hint of what was going on as you walked up to him. Then while he was still stiff with nerves, you wrapped your arms around his chest, gently patting his back.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Thatch.” You mumbled into his shirt. There was a high pitched cry as his arms locked around you, spinning you in circles.

“AH! AHHHH?! You did it! You used my name~!” Thatch cried out as several nurses protested to the vigorous movement, though on who’s behalf you weren’t sure.

You grinned.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Twin-Blade.” You said dryly, loud enough to be heard by everyone while hiding your smile. The effect was instant. His arms twitching as he nearly fell to his knees in mock-despair.

“Noooooo! My name! Use my name, damnit!”

You laughed, patting his back consolingly.

“Sure thing, Twin-Blade.”

“No!” Thatch barked, as the crew laughed at his plight.

While not what you imagined, life as a pirate wasn’t so bad if it meant feeling like this.

You considered your now bare wrist, no supportive cloth there to remind you of your past. What you hoped for in your future. Not quite freedom symbolized in marine-standard blue but consistency and a promise to support people. Nor a chain to remind you of your literal, more understandable imprisonment. You were free to put whatever you wanted there once they decided you didn’t need the bandages anymore.

And then? Well, it was a pretty good place for a tattoo… whenever you’re not grounded anymore and can slip away to get it done.

“…Hey, what does being grounded even look like?” You asked Thatch, Marco and Ace having avoided the subject. You assumed it was because they didn’t know either.

Thatch paused, looking over at his brothers and Whitebeard.

“…Nooooo mooooorrreeee… avoiding… parties?” Thatch guessed, receiving cheerful agreements all around. You couldn’t help but snort.

“You know, usually groundings means less of those.” You pointed out but Thatch nodded resolutely.

“Eating every meal!” Thatch added.

“I already did that?”

“More training!” Someone suggested.

“Okay, that makes sense but—”

“Hanging out with Oyaji!”

“Hey now! Don’t get ahead of yourself!” You barked, feeling ganged up on as more suggestions were added, Whitebeard doing nothing but adding to the chaos.

“Given names only.” He nodded and you sputtered.

“I’m not calling you Edward!” You huffed, craning your neck to glare back at him. He paused before smiling.

“That’s alright. Oyaji or Pops is fine with me.” You groaned, burying your face into Thatch chest as you fought the urge to laugh.

“Hey, you have to follow the rules. You’re still grounded.” Thatch teased.

“Does that mean I can stop when I’m not grounded?” You needled. Thatch letting out a bark of laughter.

“Hah! No.”

Why did you decide to stay again?

#one piece yandere #whitebeard crew yandere #platonic yandere #reader insert #oh sweet child of mine #reader accepting their new crew: time to be a shit ( •̀ ω •́ )y #really keep them guessing #btw marines is still an option cause who would know they killed Akainu?#looks like he just bit off more than he can chew from the outside #but reader is happier where they are

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