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zacharyleigh316 · 7 months

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A Friend to Bee

Suptober Prompt: Day 7 - Black Cat | A Friend to Bee | 2.8K | Teen and Up | Read on Ao3 (or below cut)

Dean befriends a neighborhood cat, and, against all odds, it might just bring luck his way...

“Achoo!”

As if on cue, the second Dean stepped over the threshold to his home, he sneezed, groaning at the way his eyes watered as a result. He quickly hung up his coat on the rack, and tossed his keys in the dish on the stand by the door, before fleeing into the kitchen, only to sneeze again. It was only a matter of time, Dean surmised, before his eyes burned, and he’d need to stubbornly fight the urge to rub them, as was his daily routine as of late—that, and popping allergy pills like candy. Pills of which he was currently out of, and thus doomed to suffer, slowly succumbing to his allergies.

Dean took his phone out and shot his brother a text, before setting out to put some leftover chicken and rice in a bowl. And, summoned by the prospect of food, the source of all of Dean’s current health problems—and well-being—jumped up onto the counter, signaled by another sneeze.

“You’re lucky you’re so friggin cute.” He muttered, putting the bowl down in front of the fur ball that could, quite possibly, be the death of him—if he couldn’t somehow find a way to manage his cat allergy.

It hadn’t been that long since they first encountered each other, Dean and his hairy, four-legged visitor—be it a miraculous act of fate or what have you—but it sure felt like forever, seeing as Dean hadn’t had a moment’s peace since.

Two weeks ago, on Dean’s way back home, he encountered the most unusual pair of blue eyes, that, upon further inspection, belonged to an even more unusually mannered black cat, perched perfectly poised atop the front steps to his home. He recalled how the eyes seemed to glow then, a trick of the lights Dean’s sure, but they drew him in nevertheless. Since then the cat has, beyond any feasible reason Dean could see, stuck around. Enough so that yes, he’s even begun to feed and water the damn thing—despite said allergy.

The little rascal didn’t seem too pressed to leave any time soon, and you could say that he even, perhaps, got used to having it around—not that he’d tell anyone that. He wasn’t sure who exactly owned his new friend, just that it had to be someone in the neighborhood, but sincerely hoped they wouldn’t mind how often he spoiled the guy’s pet.

Dean’s phone buzzed from where he left it on the countertop, and pulled himself from his reverie, reading the reply from his brother.

<< hey sammy, were you able to pick me up some more of those allergy meds?

>> Yeah, they should be in the bathroom.

And then, a few seconds later, came another.

>> You know, you never told me why you needed them?

<< nunya

>> What?

<< sorry, let me rephrase that

<< nunya business

<< Wow, really mature Dean. I didn’t have to get them for you, but it sounded urgent, so I did.

<< The least you could do is tell me why. Or even how you ran out of the other bottle so quickly.

Dean sighed and looked over to the cat, who was now pinning him with its starling azure gaze, apparently finding him more interesting than finishing off the bowl of food.

“I dunno, what do you think? Should I tell Sam?” He asked, not really understanding why he thought the cat would answer, but directing the question toward it anyway.

Predictably, it just sat there and blinked at him.

Dean sighed again, deciding to just bite the bullet and tell his brother.

<< I maybe sorta got a cat?

>> You WHAT?!

>> Dean, you’re allergic to cats

<< uh yeah, Sammy, that’s why I needed the allergy meds duh

Dean let out a groan and pressed his forehead to the cool countertop, as his phone began to ring, Sam’s caller ID posted across the screen. He let it ring a few times before picking up.

“Heya brother-o-mine, shouldn’t you be working?”

“I’m on lunch break right now actually, Dean,” Sam whispered harshly into the receiver, straight to business as always, “what’s this about you getting a cat?”

“Well, it’s not technically mine. It just showed up one day, and won’t leave.”

“And you didn’t think to call authorities?”

“Authorities?” Dean snorted. “What am I going to do, Sam, get it arrested?”

Dean could hear the eye roll through the phone. “I mean animal control, Dean. Or maybe even a vet?”

“Course I thought about doing that…”

“You can’t just steal a cat, it could belong to somebody. It could have a microchip or something. Maybe its owner is looking for it.” Sam sighed, and now it was Dean’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Dude, I’m not stupid, okay? ‘Sides, I didn’t steal it. It just showed up, and never left. I mean, the little guy comes and goes, but it always comes back and ends up staying for a few hours, before disappearing again.” He shrugged, despite his brother being unable to see it.

As if knowing it was being talked about, it padded over to Dean, and head butted the palm of his hand. Dean smiled, and ran his hand down the creature’s back, before letting out another sneeze.

“Ugh.”

“Yeah, sounds like a real healthy arrangement you’ve got there, Dean. Why do you even let it inside?”

“That’s the strange thing, Sammy. I didn’t. It showed up on my doorstep, but I just let it be, and went inside. Don’t ask me how, but the damn thing is smart or something, and lets itself in. And out.”

“Uh-huh…” Sam trailed off, sounding skeptical.

Dean wouldn’t believe it either if he hadn’t witnessed it time and time again.

“I’m serious. I know it sounds crazy, but the cat is a friggin weirdo. I’ve tried to keep it out, but it always finds a way. Hence why now I just…let it do its thing.”

“Okay, well, even if what you’re saying is true, Dean, this isn’t sustainable. You need to find its owner, and tell them about their cat.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Now I’m serious, Dean. You can’t just keep going through allergy meds just because the cat likes to loiter.”

“Sure thing, whatever you say, mom. Don’t get your panties all in a twist, Samantha. I’ll take care of it.”

“I mean it, Dean.”

“And I promise, I’ll take care of it. Now get back to work, slacker. Don’t spend all of your lunch break talking to your big brother.”

“Alright. Talk to you later. Love you, jerk.”

“You too. Love you, bitch.”

They hung up, and Dean put his phone back down onto the counter, turning his attention back toward the adorable, furry interloper, who was still staring unblinkingly at him.

“That was my baby brother, Sammy. He’s this big shot lawyer, and, don’t tell him this, but I’m a pretty proud big brother.”

The cat meowed and tilted its head to the side, earning an amused chuckle from Dean.

“Can’t have his head grow bigger than it already is, y’know? Don’t know what’s in the water these days, but the kid’s huge, and I mean humongous.” He joked, shaking his head fondly.

“Anyway, Sam’s right. Not that I don’t enjoy the company, but you should probably get back to your owner, yeah? Got one of those, don’t you?”

Again the cat meowed, but Dean was, unfortunately, sorely lacking in the knowledge department for ‘how to translate cat language’. He watched as it went back to finish the food he’d set out, and chuckled, albeit a bit bitterly.

“Yeah, I’d be bored of me too.”

Letting the cat go about its business Dean pulled away from the kitchen island and sauntered into the bathroom. He figured that, in the meantime—or at least until he located the cat’s owner—it’d be wise to take some meds while it was here. Dean was rather fond of breathing, thank you very much. And the, however temporary, relief of itchiness was an additional perk.

It was some time later that afternoon, Dean sat on the couch with the fur ball curled in his lap, when his phone buzzed with a text message. He leaned over to put his half finished beer down on the coffee table, and exchanged it for the phone, reading the text from Sam.

>> Have you tried following the cat when it leaves? Maybe you can do that.

Dean hummed thoughtfully, and looked down at the cat. He hadn’t tried that, no, but it wasn’t a bad idea actually. He’d have to try that next, though, if anybody in the neighborhood caught him following some dude’s cat to said dude’s house, he didn’t want to know what they would think of him. He’d rather sooner admit to being an avid fan of chick flicks than deal with the repercussions of being labeled a friggin creepy weirdo.

“What do you say to me taking you home this time?” He asked, raising a brow at the little shit still snoozing in his lap, who had the audacity to peel open one of its eyes, before opening the other and leveling Dean with a look that was oddly reminiscent of one of Sam’s bitch faces.

Dean opened his mouth, a smart ass remark on the tip of his tongue, when the cat leaped off his lap and quietly padded over to the door, in lieu of responding, or well, as it’s response since it was an animal, and it couldn’t actually talk back—unless you counted the, albeit perfectly timed, meows it gave Dean sometimes.

With a groan, as his thirty-something almost forty-something body protested, he hefted himself off the couch and, against his better judgment, he followed the damn thing out his front door.

Thankfully his four legged guide was waiting for him, and even stopped every so often on the way to wherever the fuck, looking back to check if Dean was still behind, following. He couldn’t believe he was actually doing this, and that it was actually working. It certainly didn’t ease his anxiety, especially since he was completely in the dark as to where he was even being lead—to his death maybe—but of all panned out, maybe he’d bake his brother a pie or some shit. He’d see how he felt about it later.

Though Dean didn’t have to wait long to find out what his imminent death looked like, because after a ten minute or so walk down the street, the cat made its way up some steps to a rather unassuming house, much like his own—and everyone else’s in the neighborhood. This one was painted a pretty blue, nothing like the eyes of his new friend, but a softer, grayer shade.

On the door, as Dean approached, hung a gorgeous, decorative autumn wreath, with the words “Blessed Bee”—no that was not a typo, and to which Dean assumed was a pun referring to the little plastic bees dispersed within. Though, with an additional quick, cursory glance towards the house, the owner’s aesthetic was growing increasingly apparent, if not for the garden beds of flowers attached to each window sill, and the immaculately groomed bushes (hah) lining the front.

Even the grass was a lively color, a rich, vibrant green, and neatly trimmed to boot. Dean couldn’t help the whispered, “Damn,” that slipped out in awe. This guy had some serious gardening chops, that Dean couldn’t help but be a little envious of. The only plant he could remember growing was a little succulent he nicked from the local supermarket for him and Sam when they were little, and he couldn’t tell you what became of it.

The cat meowed, once again with the intention of pulling Dean from his reverie, and he, with a final resolve, reached up and knocked on the door. Though, nothing could have ever prepared him for what happened next.

The front door swung open, revealing possibly the hottest guy Dean has ever seen, looking all soft and—albeit artfully—rumpled, in a sweater and jeans, and holy fuck this dude’s eyes. If he thought the cat’s eye were an unusual shade of blue, they were nothing compared to this man’s, and if Dean didn’t say anything and just stood there frozen, gaping like a fish, being spotted and labeled as a creepy weirdo were the least of his worries.

“Uh…” he said, rather intelligently.

The man didn’t seem to mind, however, and just smiled, reaching down to pick up his cat, who was winding between his legs.

“You must be Bee’s new friend.”

Dean blinked, taking a moment to realize that, son of a bitch, the hot dude just spoke to him, and then another to realize that that is what he sounded like. Deep and gravelly, and god friggin’ dammit Dean was fucked. Truly and utterly fucked.

“Um…what?”

Wow, nice going Dean, he mentally scolded himself.

As far as first impressions went, this was probably as worst as it could get. He’d spoken a total of three words to this strange (sexy) man, and they only seemed to feed the narrative of what a fool he was. He could flirt with women with the ease of driving his baby, no problem. But put a pretty guy, let alone a pretty guy with gorgeous blue eyes, in front of him and he was rendered speechless, dumber than a sack of potatoes, and probably as useful as one too. He was not good at this.

The man chuckled, and gestured to the cat in his arms, before giving who Dean knew now as Bee chin scritches.

“My cat. She’s been telling me all about you.”

“Oh, uh, all good things I hope?”

The man smiled again, and Dean felt his knees grow weak, like they could buckle at any moment, and he’d just melt into a puddle on this guy’s front steps.

“Hm, yes, I must thank you for taking good care of her. She likes it there very much.”

“Haha well, I’m glad? But, uh, about that…” Dean swallowed against the lump in his throat, and reached up to rub the back of his neck.

“I’m actually allergic to cats.”

“Oh.”

Dean inwardly cursed as the man frowned, and furrowed his brows in concern. He looked down at Bee then, and gave her a disapproving stare.

“You didn’t tell me that.” He shook his head, and put her down, ushering her into the house. “Go on, shoo. We’ll discuss this later.”

They both watched her disappear around the corner, before the man turned back to Dean, now looking apologetic.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize you were allergic. Had I known, I wouldn’t have encouraged Bee to visit so often.”

“Don’t worry about it man, I just, uh, thought you should know, I guess? But really, ‘s’no big deal. I actually enjoyed the company.”

The guy smiled softly, and hummed. “That’s good then. I’m glad. She enjoyed the company too.”

“I’m Dean, by the way.”

“Castiel.”

Dean nodded, feeling his cheeks heat the longer they stood there, just staring at one other. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and cursed himself again for his eternal awkwardness.

“R-right, well…” he trailed off, not wanting to say goodbye just yet.

“Maybe next time you could come over too? If you, um, if you want. Bee knows where it is.”

Castiel beamed, and damn, if that wasn’t easily on Dean’s ever increasing list of favorite things about him.

“I’d like that very much, Dean.”

“Yeah? Awesome.” Dean grinned back, and then even wider when Castiel ducked his head bashfully.

Dean liked him so much already, it was wild. Even more wild that a black cat was beginning to be the luckiest thing that ever happened to him.

“See ya later, Cas?”

“Yes. And I’ll try to whip up something to help those allergies, if you’d like?”

“I have no idea what that means, but sure why not?” He shrugged with an easy smile, and started to back away, his eyes never leaving Cas’.

“Don’t worry, it’s not of import.” Cas dismissed with a wave of his hand.

“Until we meet again, Dean.”

“Bye Cas.”

They waved their goodbyes, and Dean finally turned around to make his way back, but only after he may—or may not—have stumbled, earning another, rather amused, chuckle from Cas from behind him.

Dean laughed awkwardly, brushing off his totally-not-a-stumble, you know, as a man does, and raised his hand in one more final parting gesture, before hurrying off back home to bake that pie.

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allthingsfangirl101 · 9 months

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CE Chapter 23: *Late To Our Own Party

Masterlist

After Ellie's introduction into the organization, things continued to go well. Geroge's men instantly began doing things for her and helping her with things around her shop. On their one-month anniversary, George took Ellie back to the restaurant they had their first date and their second-first date.

After dinner, they walked around her favorite part of Central Park. During their walk, George took Ellie to her favorite spot; a small gazebo by the lake. He got down on one knee and asked her to marry him. She said yes and they spent the rest of the night celebrating.

It seemed that George only ever wanted to celebrate. Every night. Every morning. Ever afternoon.

Ellie didn't mind. Ever since she was a teenager, she wanted a soulmate who was obsessed with her. She loved that George always wanted to be with her.

Tonight, Olivia insisted that George and Ellie throw an engagement party.

Ellie walked into the mansion, putting her keys in the bowl by the door. She walked upstairs and kicked off her shoes and hung up her jacket. She went over to the vanity that George built for her and started taking her hair out.

"Jacobs told me you were home."

Ellie looked up to see George excitedly kicking off his shoes and jogging over to her. He grabbed her shoulders, leaned down, and kissed her cheek. He continued kissing down her jaw, smirking when he felt her goosebumps begin to form under his lips.

"George," she moaned under her breath. "Baby, we need to start. . ."

She gasped when he slid his hands under her shirt while he continued to suck on her neck. "We're going to be late for our own engagement party."

"Who cares?" He growled into her ear. "It's our party. It doesn't start until we get there."

Without pulling away from her skin, George grabbed her waist under her shirt and pulled her to her feet. He slowly walked her away from the vanity and toward their bed. She removed his hands from her body, taking a few steps away from him.

"I'm sorry, mister, but your mother will kill us if we're late. Now, go get ready."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

She kissed his cheek before walking into the bathroom. George watched her through the small crack in the door from Ellie not closing it all the way. He wasn't sure if she meant to do it, but he enjoyed the view of his soulmate slowly undressing and putting her clothes in the hamper. As he watched her, he finally decided to do something he's wanted to do since she gave him a second chance.

He ran into the bathroom, making her slightly jump. "George," she sighed. Ellie didn't have the urge to cover up. Her soulmate has seen her in far less than her bra and underwear. "We need to get ready for the party."

"Before we get ready to go downstairs," he whispered, grabbing her hand, "there's something I need to say, Ellie."

"Okay," she shrugged. George pulled her into his chest as she snaked her arms up his chest, wrapping them loosely around his neck.

"I love you."

Ellie's stomach flipped at George's three little words. The shock made her loosen her arms around him.

"You. . . Love me?"

"Yes," he smiled. "I love you more than I thought I could ever love someone. Honestly, Ellie, I never thought I would find my soulmate. I never thought, when I found her, I would want my entire life to revolve around her. I never thought that I would be willing to give up my entire organization for my soulmate. I love you, Ellie."

Ellie practically pounced on him, smashing her lips onto his. George laughed as he caught her and instantly started kissing her. Their lips moved roughly in sync as George carefully picked her up. He carried her back out of the bathroom and laid her down on their bed, hovering over her.

She broke the kiss, breathing heavily as she looked into her soulmate's eyes.

"I never thought I would have a man in my life who looked at me like I was his world," she whispered. "And I never thought I would love someone as much as I love you."

George was about to kiss his soulmate and show her how much he loved her, but Ellie put her hands on his chest and stopped him.

"Baby," she moaned making his pants tighten, "we really need to get ready for the engagement party."

He was about to object but she continued, "Plus as much fun as it would be to show each other what we just admitted, I wouldn't put it past your mother to come check on us and make sure we were getting ready."

"Neither would I," George chuckled. He didn't get off her right away. Instead, he leaned down and gently kissed her. He broke it and leaned his forehead against hers.

"I love you, Ellie."

"I love you too, George."

George finally got off her, helping her sit up. She kissed his cheek as she walked into the bathroom. He walked over to the closet and started searching for a suit to wear tonight. He glanced in the mirror hanging on the closet door, smirking when he saw his soulmate undressing.

He started chewing on his bottom lip as she discarded her underwear, followed by her bra. He couldn't help but scan his eyes over her gorgeous body.

She turned on her "Shower" playlist and stepped in. He watched her as the water slid over her body. He ignored the idea that the party was going to start soon as he undressed and walked into the bathroom.

Ellie smirked when the shower door opened. "I don't know what you think you're doing," she said without turning around. "We have our engagement party in two hours. If we get distracted. . ."

George wrapped his arms around her waist and started making out with her neck. She bit her lip as his hands slid up her stomach. She gasped when he found her breasts. Her gasp turned into a moan as he squeezed and started to massage them.

As his hands worked against her chest, their hips started grinding against each other. Ellie let out a loud moan as George pushed her up against the cold tiles.

He leaned down and pressed a kiss between her shoulder blades. He smirked when he felt her shiver. He grabbed her hips and quickly spun her around. George's eyes scanned her body, filling with pride when he saw how out of breath she already was.

"I have to be honest," he said through his teeth, "I've always wanted to do this."

"I'm kinda surprised," Ellie smiled. She grabbed his shoulders and took a step closer to him, pressing her body against his. "I figured the great George Montain would've done every position with every woman possible."

"No," he said through his teeth as he reached around and grabbed her ass. "I wanted to save some positions for my soulmate."

"I'm honored," Ellie said as she stood on her toes and smashed her lips onto his. He smirked, instantly pushing her back against the wall as they fell in sync.

Without breaking the kiss, George grabbed her thigh and wrapped her leg around his waist. He pulled her away from the wall just enough to push her back against it, slipping into her. Ellie broke the kiss and arched her back at the sudden pressure.

They didn't continue making out as their bodies moved against each other. George rocked his hips against Ellie's, loving the sounds that came out of her almost as much as he loved being the reason for them.

The pressure built as George grabbed her other thigh, completely picking her up. He had complete control over the rate and the speed of Ellie's orgasm. Running the mafia was nothing compared to the feeling of power he held over his soulmate.

"Oh George," she moaned as she threw her head back. "This feels. . . Oh, George."

"I love you, baby," he said through his teeth.

"I love you too," she gasped.

Suddenly, George stopped his thrusting. He gently pulled out of her but still held her up.

"Are you okay?" Ellie whispered as she snuck her hand around to the back of his neck, playing with his hair.

"Are you scared?"

Ellie slowly unwrapped her legs from around him. She stepped back enough so she could study him.

"What are you talking about, Georgie?"

"Are you scared of this world? Of my men?" He paused before adding, "Of me?"

"Of course not," she said quickly. She reached up and gently grabbed his face. "I know I'm safe. As long as I'm with you."

"You're right," he chuckled, slowly returning to his usual confident self.

"Besides," she whispered, sending chills up his spine as she rubbed her hands up and down his arms, "how can I be scared when I have these strong arms wrapped around me every night?"

"Damn right," he growled.

Ellie gasped, quickly turning into a moan when her soulmate pushed her against the wall. She leaned her head against the wall, arching her back to get closer to him. This time when they fell into their usual routine of pleasuring each other, nothing stopped them from finishing.

They reached their orgasms in sync, both letting out loud moans. George pulled out of Ellie. He started to step back, but he held her close to his chest.

"I love you, Soulmate," he whispered.

"I love you too, Georgie."

#joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery smut #mob #mob boss #mob fanfic #mob smut #original content #Choice Encounter

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finelinevogue · 3 years

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Can you do something where Y/N is sick and Harry has to take care of her please?

i actually had written something similar to this before so i present you a lengthy blurb;

You were pretty sure if you got invited in to hell it would feel something like this.

Hot. Sticky. But chilled.

You had come down with a concerningly high temperature. Along with the added luxuries of a deafening headache, cold sweats and an upset tummy. Your body was burning all over, as if it had just been freshly cooked in the oven but you felt colder than ice. It was a confusing juxtaposition, but there it was.

You'd called Harry, since he was in the studio recording his new music and asked him to come home early. You didn't even get to the reasoning of why he should come home before he hung up, telling you he was already vacating the premises. You hated to be that needy girlfriend who had to call about nearly everything, but Harry loved it more than anything. He loved the fact that you needed him. It gave him purpose, apparently .

You couldn't work out whether you regretted asking him to come home, or whether it was a blessing. It was a very fine line.

It was a blessing because, he looked after you like a mother would her child and made sure he stood by your side any time you found yourself lurched over a toilet. He made you chicken soup from scratch and even tested it to make sure it wasn't too hot, or salty - despite being a vegetarian himself. He even made you honey and lemon tea, which he had to run to the store for the honey. When you say run, you mean run. He didn't want to leave you alone at all, so he put on his running shoes and sprinted to the shop and back. However, it was a slight regret because of how fussy he was over you. He loved it to bits - nursing to your every need.

You truly believed you didn't deserve Harry. He was just too kind and pure for his own good. You were unarguably lucky. Laying on what felt like your death bed, didn't feel so lucky though.

It was now 10 pm and you could hear Harry turning on the alarm for downstairs, the loud beeping noise preventing you from sleep. That's all you'd done all day. Sleep. You thought it'd be more magical than it was. It was just uncomfortable though, because of how cold and hot you were.

Your much better looking other half trudged through the bedroom door within a minute of the alarm going off. He was only wearing checkered pyjama bottoms and a white t-shirt and yet he made it look like Gucci Runway 2021.

The jingling of keys signalled Charlie was also present. Charlie was your 2 year old Golden Retriever. He was beautiful. When you and Harry has moved in together 2 years ago you'd managed to persuade him to get a dog. Within a few weeks of moving in you had a 5 month old puppy running around your house. He was your best friend, no doubt about it. He was also ridiculously photogenic.

"Hey Chaz!" You cooed as Charlie walked over to your side of the bed, where you were snuggling down under the sheets. You reached out your hand to give him some loving and attention. You could tell by the small smile and sparkling eyes that he was one happy boy.

"Alright, buddy. Let's leave mum alone." Harry came behind Charlie to manoeuvre him into his bed, which was in the corner of the room. It was more like a big cushion. He started to whine after being forced to leave you - having not seeing you all day. Harry was strict in keeping him downstairs so not to disturb you whilst you were sleeping.

"H it's alright, let him on the bed. He can curl up on my feet." You sympathised with Charlie, as you always did, hating to hear or see him upset. Harry was like the 'bad-cop' when it came to parenting Charlie, because you were too sweet to say no to him.

"You're one spoilt boy, aren’t you?" Harry messed around with Charlie, before telling him he could get up on the bed to see you. Charlie leapt on the bed and wandered over to give you all the kisses he could, before Harry came to calm him down - as you really didn't have the strength.

"I missed you too, Chaz." You quietly laughed, not wanting to set your headache off even more.

"You gonna let me kiss mum now?" Harry rhetorically asked, but as he came over to you Charlie laid down on you so your face was buried underneath his body. You could feel him panting with his adorable tongue out above you, as he hid you from Harry.

"Someone's jealous."

"Feeling like a bloody third wheel over here." Harry tutted and you laughed until you got hot with the movement.

"Harry? Can you move him please?" You whined as you tried to shuffle around.

"Okay Chaz. Let's let mum get some sleep, alright?" Charlie is slowly removed from you and ends up curled on top of your feet, keeping them warm for you.

Harry slipped into the covers and shuffled his way over to you, putting the back of his hand over your forehead and hissing quietly at the simple touch.

"Baby you're so hot." Harry complained.

"I know." You teased with a wink at him, taking his worry out of context and turning it into a flirting compliment.

"Oh piss off!" He chuckled and wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you closer. "What am I going to do with you, baby?" Harry then planted only a few delicate kisses to your lips - not wanting to overwork you and your tired body.

••••

You woke up with drowsy eyes to find you're in bed alone.

Your throat was incredibly dry and your whole body was sticky from sweat. Your pyjamas were damp and your face looked like it'd just been drowned in a rainstorm. It was disgusting. Still, you brought the duvet up to cover yourself more, as you let out a dramatic shiver. Why was it so cold?

Mixed into the background noise you could hear the cheering of crowds and it really confused you, until you looked at the wall and noticed the football was playing on re-run on the TV. Manchester United Vs Manchester City. You hated that you knew that just from their football uniforms, but that's what you get for living with a football-crazed boyfriend.

You noticed Harry emerge from the bathroom, a washing up bowl in his arms. He came and sat down in bed, the bucket of water to his side. "What are you doing?" You quietly asked, peering up at him through tired eyes.

"Oi, you're meant to be sleep y’minx." Harry told you off.

"I can't. I'm too uncomfortable. I'm hot, but i'm cold. I also find it hard to sleep without you next to me." You huffed out in annoyance.

"My poorly baby." He leant down to kiss your forehead, "c’mere, baby." He urged.

He helped you move, seeing as your body was really weak, so you could lay down against Harry’s body. He was sat up against the headboard as you nestled down between his legs, your back to his front. It was a lot more comfortable than before - probably because Harry was closer to you. Charlie noticed the disturbance and waited for you to stop moving around, before maintaining the job of guarding your feet.

Once he was happy in his position he fell asleep again, making you jealous of his ability to do that. Especially now.

"Why's the football on?" You asked, motioning towards the TV.

"Had to keep myself awake somehow." He explained, but it only made you more confused.

"Why?"

"So I can take care of you, y’muppet." His words actually melted your heart - more than chocolate could melt on your forehead right now.

After you'd settled, Harry reached into the bucket and drained out a cloth. He made sure all the excess water was cleared before moving it away from the bucket. You hummed in appreciation when he placed it against your forehead, rotating it to the back of your neck also in order to relax and cool you. It made you realise just how hot you were.

"I think i'm dying, Harry." You groaned as the nausea came over you again. Harry kept a firm hold of the cloth on your forehead, dabbing gently and careful to not let any water drip down into your eyes.

"No you're not, baby." Harry gave you a light-hearted laugh.

"Well, living shouldn't feel as shitty as this H." You grumbled, not appreciating his lack of understanding.

“Then just let me take you to the chuffing hospital!" He exclaimed, making Charlie stir slightly.

Harry had been demanding you go to the hospital all day and all evening, but you were too stubborn to go. That, and you were terrified of hospitals - more terrified of needles and blood than anything else. However, you were starting to reach the point where you were giving in to his request, though. It was becoming unbearable to sleep and harder to breathe. You were worried for yourself.

"I don't like it." You pouted like a child, as Harry wrung the cloth through the fresh water again.

"I don't care whether you like it or not, Y/N, I really think we should go. More like need." Harry insisted and you could tell he wasn’t giving up without a fight. You didn’t want that either.

You hated how he was right.

It was only going to get worse from here, and you didn't really want to be alive when that was going you happen, so going to the hospital to get checked over and drugged up seemed like the best option to go for. The more sensible option.

"Fine." You finally accepted, Harry slinking his arms tight around your waist after discarding the cloth in to the bucket. He nuzzled his head into the crook of your neck and planted an abundance of kisses there, your skin burning just to the touch.

"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you." He repeated in-between kisses.

•••••

It took 20 minutes to get in to the car. 20 minutes.

All because Charlie was reluctant to letting you get up and go. So Harry had to dress you into a more appropriate attire, with a dog sat on your lower body. It was then half an hour later that you were in the hospital.

The hospital was quiet at this time of night and for that you were grateful. It was obviously a night where little numbers of people were doing silly things to get themselves hurt. There was the odd patient for a minor cut injury and there were a couple of people in for burns. There was even a woman in because she accidentally superglued her hand to a bottle of superglue - ironic, but painful.

You sat patiently on Harrys lap, waiting for someone to escort you to a cubicle. You were freezing cold, to the point where your teeth were chattering - your outside body was giving off the opposite temperature. You tried to get as close to Harry's warmth as possible, pushing your body against his.

"You're alright baby." Harry shushed you, as you let out a small tremble.

"If I do die—"

"Which you won't." Harry chuckled.

"I know, but if I did I want you to know that I love you." You told him. Even though he's heard you say it a million times before, it still made his heart flutter as you spoke each word.

"I love you, baby." He kissed the side of your head. "But you're going to be just fine, so no more talking about you dying okay?"

"Why? It's only a natural thing." You pointed out.

"Sure, but I don't want to think of a world without my girl living in it. So zip it before I make you."

You never thought of dying as a world without Harry before now and it wasn't the time to start thinking about it either. It was a horrible thought and you understood why Harry didn't want you speak about it. That world would be so dark and empty and you hated thinking about it.

Harry was called to the front desk to fill in some forms for you, since your hands were too cold and shaky to do it for yourself. He accidentally wrote 'Styles' as your second name, before realising his mistake and scribbling it out.

“Shit.” Harry went red in the face and chuckled over his silly mistake. His hand was shaky and you smiled at how he got so flustered over something so simple. You rested your hand on top of his, bringing his attention to you.

“One day.” You told him and he leaned to give you a kiss on the lips. You couldn’t help but feel like his lips were a future promise to make sure he wouldn’t have to scribble out his second name the next time it was written next to yours.

The doctor saw you shortly afterwards and you thanked your lucky stars that there was no injections or removal of any blood involved, Harry sticking with you the whole time. Turns out you were suffering from a moderate fever, but the doctor said with good rest it should pass. The doctor had given Harry permission to make a big fuss over you - explaining how he was going to love it and you were going to hate it - and to make sure to come back with even the slightest worsen of the fever. You got given a prescription list of various medications that you'd need to take over the next week or so. After collecting the drugs, you were back in the car on the way home.

"Told you you weren't going to die." Harry smiled, happy to have you still by his side, whilst holding your hand over the gear console.

"Unfortunate for you, I guess."

"Will you shut you, y’bloody nuisance. You know I can't do life without you, Y/N." He spoke softly, squeezing your hand tighter to assure you that he's going nowhere.

"Same here." You smile at him and he smirks back at you with his dimple-loving smile.

"You’ll always be it for me, baby." Harry speaks, before you drift back off to sleep.

Happily.

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soulwillower · 3 years

Text

housesitting • richie tozier

(richie tozier x reader)

requested: no

had this in my drafts and figured i’d finish it and post it, sorry for being away, but idk if i’ll keep writing! hope you enjoy, i’ll prob still come back and update/post fics on this account on occasion. love u guys lots and i hope you’re all doing okay <3333

warnings: drinking, unprotected sex, oral (fem and male receiving), light deepthroating/face fucking, praise kink, degradation, use of the words slut, whore, etc, suuuper unedited

(losers + reader are 21+.)

4.7k words

♡

the moment you stepped back into your flat, dropping your bag heavily on the ground with a sigh, you finally felt like you could breathe.

today and yesterday had been a nightmare - you and your roommate bill had gone home, planning to stay for a week with family and friends back home.

you'd spent the first night out with old friends at the bar enjoying yourselves and you'd even gone home with a handsome boy you'd had a crush on in high school. but just as he was about to go down on you, after you'd gone down on him despite how terrible his b.o. was, he said he wouldn’t because it was 'gross.'

you hate to admit but you were slightly tipsy and horny, so you still stayed for ten minutes of awful, boring missionary before he fell asleep. then when you'd left in the uber, a voice message from your boss threatened to fire you if you didn't come in and finish a project - so you had to scramble for a flight home, leaving bill back with your friends in maine for a few days, and now you're just ready for a shower, a nicely packed bowl, and a large dinner.

because good god, that was an awful trip.

"hello?" you call, rubbing your eyes as you walk towards your kitchen, wondering if your roommate's best friend was still here - he was supposed to stay and take care of the apartment while you were away.

but instead, your eyes landed on a complete mess in the kitchen; solo cups everywhere, trash, empty chip bags, furniture moved and counters sticky from spilt beer.

"what the fuck?" you project, eyes landing on the figure who walks into the kitchen, towel hanging low on his hips as water drips from wet, shaggy curls of hair. you meet the bright eyes of richie tozier, your roommate’s best friend.

he looks like a deer in headlights, his glasses slightly fogged as he blinks his eyes owlishly and you swear his eye lashes tangle together as he blinks. "oh, hey y/n, why are you here?"

and honestly, richie has always made your fingers tingle and your abdomen clench when he so much as looks at you, despite bill’s groaning and glaring when you refer to him as ‘hot friend number one.’ (he had a lot of hot friends).

but you’re wound up, stressed, frustrated, and exhausted so all you can do is look from the boy to the mess and then back, stunned, "this is my apartment."

he chuckles, wiping a drip of water off of his chest. you have to fight to look away, feeling burning from irritation and also something else as your chest heaves. you're just so tired, and this boy who you don't know very well has trashed your place and maybe even had a party and you just want to smoke and go to bed and-

"say, what are you doing back so soon, toots? thought i had the place to myself for the next five days." he says too casually, grinning like he's catching up with an old friend. his hand runs through his wet hair, droplets rolling down his bare skin and causing you to fight the urge to keep your eyes on his face.

you shake your head. "richie, why does my kitchen look like a scene from dexter?" you say, trying to keep yourself calm.

he tilts his head in an irksome, handsome way that makes you want to scream, "pretty sure dexter was....murdering murderers, not slamming smirnoff at three am." "clean it up! what gives you the nerve to have a party in someone else's fucking apartment? while they're gone?!" you yell, throwing your hands in the air. richie shrugs uncomfortably and you're briefly in shock at how much faith richie is putting in the small tuck he's made with the towel, barely keeping up on in his waist. he laughs somewhat nervously, "sheesh, doll, it would've been cleaned by sunday, you just surprised me and almost gave me a heart attack while i was in the shower. bill told me we could throw at your place as long as we were responsible." he sounds pretty genuine, but you're just so tightly wound and frustrated.

"well this," you gesture to your place, "is not responsible." you glare, "i'm going to shower. i've had a long fucking day, and when i get out the place better be fucking spotless and you better be gone. i'm not asking." you snap.

he grins as you push past him, turning to watch you storm towards the bathroom with an apologetic grimace on his face.

you took as long as you could in the shower, savoring every warm drop until you stepped out of your bathroom, expecting to see an empty apartment.

"what are you staring at?" the boy with the curls mutters as he fixes the wine glass he'd placed on the counter. you're pretty speechless as you look around, wondering how richie had managed to get your place more clean and inviting than how you'd left it. dishes are all clean, put away, the counters spotless; the oven is set with a timer for two hours, and the smell of lasagna invites your nose with a rumble of your stomach. two glasses of wine are poured, sitting at the counter as richie chews on his lip anxiously, hair glinting in the dark mood lighting from the lamp near the window.

"i felt bad. you seem like you had a long day and i didn't mean to make it worse." he admits.

you step forward, suddenly feeling hot as you watch him, his jaw clenched slightly and sharper than you remember it. he's actually really fucking beautiful, you realize.

"you didn't have to do all this." you say, biting your lip as you take the wine glass from his hand.

"i know." he says with a cocky smirk. your face feels hot as you watch him slide out the stools by your breakfast bar, sitting down and sipping on his own wine.

with a smile, you sit next to him. he was always the friend of bills that made you the most flustered - he's a tall, loud, garish bartender who spends most his time doing stand up at the clubs on the weekends even though he studied applied mathematics in school. he's the kind of boy that everybody has a crush on, because he's got that dorky yet beautiful sculpt; dark, curly locks, pale skin with a splattering of bright freckles. his eyes pierce yours whenever you're in the same room and his grin makes your stomach flip on it's head.

"so, why'd you come back early?" richie asks as he takes a sip, eyes staring at you brightly from behind the rim of the glass. you huff a small bitter laugh, "my boss told me i had to come back because we're understaffed. told me the extra hours are 'building charater' or something. but i was having a shitty trip anyways, so i may as well just volunteer my time."

he laughs, muttering, "good girl. doin' the lords work." you almost laugh but his words have heat sent straight between your legs and you can't tind words, suddenly in a state of shock. oh, god, this wine is getting to you.

richie's always been so hot, you're not surprised that one casual phrase had you so frantic like this. you blink, richie muttering, "y/n?" gently.

you shake your head, snapping to look at him, "y-yeah? sorry, i just- what did you say?" you're embarrassed. you're embarrassed because richie didn't even mean it like that and you didn't expect to like being called that by him and you're embarrassed because he knows now, god look at his smirk, you're done for.

"i asked why your trip was shit." he says simply, smirk on his face causing your face to heat up even more. you sigh, eyeing him, "i tried to enjoy myself and then i have the worst hookup experience of my life. then i came back to a messy apartment." you admit, shaking your head as richie pours you both another glass of wine, "the worst? that's a shame. what'd he do, throw up on you?"

you laugh, "no, nothing like that. he was a minute man, and he refused to..." you shake your head, wondering why you're admitting this to a guy you barely know. you've never hung out one-on-one before with him. "-he made me do all the work. and then he fell asleep. the worst part is, i've liked him since high school." you admit, dropping your face into your hands as richie lets out a chuckle.

richie's shaking his head, "see, those types are the ones who just shouldn't be allowed in the gene pool. lazy. missin' out on all the fun, especially with a gal like you." he says with a wink. you laugh, face feeling hot. "i'm no fun." you say bashfully.

richie raises his brows with a grin, his smile making you melt, heat pooling in between your legs from the way he runs his fingers across the rim of his glass. "i highly doubt that, doll."

his eyes dip down in a not-so-subtle way as he takes in your body, biting his lip and making you clear your throat with a heated face. "sorry you had to put up with a guy who couldn't fuck you the right way. and that your boss also fucked you. and that i ruined your night."

you shake your head, "i just had so much pent up stress from the last few days." he's eyeing you, and you wonder if he wants to fuck you as bad as you want to be fucked right now. would bill kill you? yeah, he would, but richie is so damn fine and you were left so high and dry last night that you’re just about ready to jump onto his lap.

as if reading your mind, richie hums, "bill's still in maine, yeah?" he asks casually, eyes fluttering to the timer on the oven that ready an hour.

you nod, "yeah, he's actually hanging out with the guy i hooked up with tonight." you say with a light huff. richie groans a laugh, "no fuckin' way. i promise, not all of bill's friends are bad at sex." richie says with a grin, and you laugh. "you sure about that?"

he hums, eyeing you but not responding.

“guess i’ll just have to find out.” you say boldly, butterflies fluttering in your chest when richie shoots you a deep look, slicking his lips through a smile. he hums, "so i don't get it, what was so bad about it?"

you sigh, "he wouldn't go down on me. said he was 'too tired' and ‘too much work’ then he wanted to lay down so i rode him for, like, five minutes and then he fell asleep."

richie's laughing, and you swat his arm as your face burns, "it's not funny! it's humiliating, richie."

he snorts, standing up to place your empty glasses in the sink, recycling the empty bottle. "sorry, doll. that's just shit. he should've at least had the decency to make you cum."

you almost choke on your spit at his bluntness, face blossoming and thighs tingling. "y-yeah."

"anyways, i can get going, if you'd like. guess i’m done being the house sitter. the lasagna will be done in an hour or so." he says with a nod, eyes staring at yours fiercely. you hum, standing up as richie walks closer. "or you could stay." you say, looking up at him from where he stands in front of you.

"you lonely or somethin', doll?" he rumbles lowly, lifting a brow. biting your lip, you swallow, "something like that." you say, lifting a challenging brow.

“so if it was stan here, or mike...” he starts, walking towards you until he’s close enough that you’re afraid he can hear your heart thump, “you’d want them to stay?”

you swallow dryly, “if bill lived with someone else, would you want to stay?” his smirk makes you clench your thighs. his long fingers raise and curl around your jaw, tilting your head back before tucking hair behind your ear. you swallow roughly, his hands are so big. his rings that he wears are thick and ice cold and feel so good against your warm face.

your heart pounds as he smirks, eyes challenging you. the waiting is killing you.

"you've got a pretty mouth." he whispers, sending shocks all around your body. "y-you've got a pretty everything." you stutter out, feeling extremely flustered and suddenly shy. "thanks, honey." he says with a laugh, making you feel even more bashful.

"y'know..." he drawls, hand settled on your neck, caressing your jaw, "i've wanted you since i first saw you."

you can't help the whimper as it falls from your lips. it's a small, shy noise of need and it makes richie beam a beautiful, sexy grin that has your knees weak. "please..." you whimper, eyes staring at his, the suspense making you anxious with need.

"please what?" he asks quietly, clearly loving the tense air. you almost roll your eyes, "kiss me." you say, rushed.

he pulls away slightly, giving you a stern look. “please.” he says, smirk creeping onto his face. you burn in slight humiliation because he knows what he’s doing.

“please kiss me, richie.” you finally say, swallowing.

"good girl." he says with a smirk and you feel like you're burning up under his gaze. but then he’s leaning in and his lips are on yours and wow, richie is a good kisser. he’s pulling you towards him tightly, hungrily; his teeth bite gently at your lower lip as his tongue swipes your own, pulling you into him. he was needy in the way he kissed you, a dominance in him that you're not surprised to find. you craved it, you craved him; and then he's pushing you back, up onto the stool as he moves between your legs.

his mouth is then marking your neck, claiming you, and you love it, the feeling of his teeth against your warm skin, the sweetness of his smile against you.

his hands brush up your thighs and past the hem of your shorts, legs spread so he’s pressed flush against you, his bulge so close to where you want him. "richie," you let out a mangled whimper, hair knotting in his soft curls. he laughs, lips finding your ear, "always wondered how you'd sound when i had you like this," he says quietly, "can't wait to hear what pretty noises you make when i'm inside you."

his fingers find the damp seat of your panties, dancing across it and making your legs shake with anticipation and neediness. you’re already a soaked, mewling mess as you grasp for him, hungry and needy and you want him closer, closer.

he pulls you off the stool, then, and you both stare at each other for a moment. he almost dies at the state of you; already fucked-out, hair mussed up and still wet, your eyes lidded and your lips kiss-swollen.

you can’t believe your eyes, richie’s curly hair fluffy from being freshly washed, the taste of wine on his lips, the freckles, the collarbone peeking from his collar, the smirk that could melt black ice. he looks like he could tear you apart. you hope he will.

“you’re hot.” you blurt.

he rushes at you again, melding your lips together with a searing hot kiss as he shoves you backwards towards the bedrooms.

"bill told me to stay away from you," richie says as he walks you down the hall, your feet nearly stumbling and shaky as you walk backwards, lips seeking his every moment, "he said i'd ruin you." he adds.

you lift a brow, too flustered to say anything as you stare up at richie, inhaling sharply as his hand trails down to cup your ass lightly, still walking backwards. "he knows how pretty i think you are. how hot, how... perfect." he whispers into the skin of your neck, raising goosebumps. "but i want to fuck you so well you forget your name. i don't care about what bill wants."

you look at him, desperate and needy. "i don't give a fuck what bill says. i want you, please." you say, pawing richie and kissing him needily. richie’s leaving dark love bites on the column of your neck and you know it's wrong, and you shouldn't, but you let him kick open the door into bill's room, guiding you to bill’s bed instead of yours. “please, wan’ you so bad,” you pant, the needy throbbing getting unbearable, desperate for some release.

“how bad, pretty girl?” he asks, smoothing down your hair. biting your lip, you sit on the bed, eyes level with the zipper of his pants. the sight of you staring up at him from below his hard, clothed cock makes his pants feel even tighter and he hums, "you sure?"

you nod enthusiastically, "wanna make you feel good, please." he lets out a soft noise as your hands go to pull down his fly, “filthy girl." he says lowly, making heat drip from your core. you shift, trying to relieve some pressure. you feel hot when you realize you want him to degrade you, that you love it. “god, say that again.” you moan, mouthing around his bulge. his hands come to caress your face, watching you,

"you like being my little whore, huh? so good just for me. bet you’ve thought of my cock in your mouth before, haven’t you?"

you nod, biting your lip. he grins and you’re moving to pull him out of his pants, trying to conceal your shocked face as you take in his size. your cheeks heat up, hand grazing his length and meeting his own hand as he pumps himself a few times, lining his tip up to your lips.

“open.” he says simply and you comply willingly, laying your tongue out. he’s teasing his cock on your tongue and you’re whining, desperate to feel him in your mouth, to make him feel good.

“just wait until i say so, baby.” he says, slapping your tongue lightly with his cock and making you shift on your legs, dripping wet.

he groans, one hand coming to hold your head softly, making you tingle. you watch as he stares at you, lips parted and eyes blown wide. his cock is glistening with precum as it lays on your tongue. “suck my cock pretty girl.” he mutters, caressing your cheek. so you close your lips, slowly sucking on his tip before taking a bit more, moving your head slowly.

you lick a stripe up the base of his cock and up to his tip, swirling your tongue. he groans in relief and pleasure as you take as much of him into your mouth as possible slowly, bobbing your head and taking as much in as you can. he’s bigger than anyone you’ve been with before, and the need to feel him inside you and to make him fall apart has you taking him as deep as you can.

you take him deeper, your eyes clouding with tears as you try not to gag and he hums, hands pulling your hair from your eyes - you can tell he’s straining not to buck his hips as you bob up and down on him.

“god, you feel so good, y/n.” he groans. you pull back, sucking on his tip as you swirl your tongue, catching your breath. his hands fall to your head and he gently, slowly thrusts his hips slightly. you gag, mouth wet as he pulls out of your mouth and wipes the trails of spit from your lips. “do it again, please.” you gasp, and he grins. “such a slut.”

he guides your face back to him, “tap me three times if it’s too much.” you take him in again, holding as long as you can and loving the way he’s thrusting into your mouth. he groans, both hands on your head, his chest rising and falling shakily.

"god, that’s so perfect. my good little toy.” he rumbles and your chest flutters. you feel him twitch and you sense he may be close, so you start to bob your head again.

he stops you, "no, pretty girl. i'm going to cum inside of you, okay?" you swallow, mouth dry, "okay." please.

he sinks to his knees, gently pushing you so you're laying down on the bed again, pulling your legs so they hang off the side of the mattress. he's pulling your shorts off, your underwear following as he spreads your legs wider, kissing your thighs. “look at that pretty pussy. soaked, all for me.”

you're breathing shakily as one finger rises to gently rub your slit, making you moan softly. his touch is feathery-light, teasing you and making you whine, moving your hips. "shhh." he says softly, bringing his tongue to lick up your slit. you moan out, relieved to have some sort of satisfaction. richie's hand moves up to push up your top, thumbing your nipples as he starts to suck your clit. he pins your hips down, "be a good slut and stay still for me." he says, burying his face as your toes start to curl in pleasure, the burning sensation of pleasure increasing.

he rubs circles into your hips with one hand as he slides two fingers into your heat, making you whimper, his fingers start to pick up pace as he continues to circle your clit with his tongue. his long fingers curl up inside of you, still pushing into you fast and rough, hitting your g-spot. you moan, “richie, harder, please.”

he hums, lifting his head as you gasp for breath, "since you asked so nicely, doin' everything i say." his fingers are moving again, faster than before. his tongue runs over your clit, practically moaning into your heat, fingers moving faster. you moan unabashedly, feeling yourself clench and knowing you're about to cum. your legs wrap around his shoulders as your hips move slightly,

“cum on my tongue like a good little slut, okay baby?” he says gently. you moan, eyes shutting as you see stars. you're hitting your high and then richie's watching you, praising you as you fall apart, letting out soft whimpers.

then you're sitting up as he rises from his knees, licking his lips. pulling him into a searing kiss, he crawls on top of you, rutting into you a few times before pulling back.

he's pulling himself out of his pants and you swallow around your words, resisting the shocked face that threatens to creep on to you when you see how big he is. you moan as you watch him pump himself, pulling off his shirt as you pull off your own.

he grins as he looks at you, "so good for me, my little slut. you want me to fuck you now?" he asks and you eagerly pull yourself up to your elbows, "yes, please, rich, fuck me."

he hums, pushing his cock against your slit, the tip rubbing your sensitive clit and making you moan sharply. he continues to tease you, one hand on his cock and the other holding your waist. "use me, please." you whisper in his ear, hand holding him to you from the back of his neck.

he lets out a sharp breath, hand snaking to your neck and pushing you back onto the mattress. "you want me to use you?" he asks, thrusting against you slowly, teasing your slit. "like my little plaything?"

"yes, god, richie, please-" but then he's sliding into you all at once, his large cock stretching you as he moves his hips, sheathing into you. you feel so full that all you can do is gasp, richie kissing your forehead as his hand rests on your throat. "gonna fuck you on bill's bed, okay? and you're gonna be good for me, right? my good little cockslut."

you nod yes, "so good for you." you say, and he smiles. he starts to pull out, easing back in and starting a shallow rhythm, getting you used to his size. you're euphoric as he starts to languidly pump into you, one hand on your neck and the other on your chest, palming your tit.

he starts thrusting into you, picking up speed - rough and fast. his hips buck up against you, pulling back fully before filling you up. his thumb gently grazes your sensitive clit and you grip his bare back, raking your nails down in pleasure. "do you walk around thinking of how it'd feel to get fucked by me, baby?" he whispers in your ear as he pounds you into the mattress. you moan, "yes, r-rich, i've wanted you for s-so long," you trail off into a moan. "feels so good." you mutter, panting, words babbling from your mouth incoherently.

you barely have a warning before you cum a second time, clenching so hard that richie's hips sstutter, his moan ringing with your own. he looks down at you, thumb trailing into your open mouth, you eagerly sucking on it like a lollipop. "god, you're so tight, doll. such a good little whore for me. i bet you'd let me do anything to you, anywhere."

your legs are shaking as he keeps thrusting you through your orgasm, feeling sensitive and euphoric. he smirks, "yeah? bet you'd let me fuck you anywhere, just my little fuck toy. so perfect for me."

you nod, kissing him needily, tears from oversensitivity pricking your eyes. "want you filling me up richie, feels so good."

"anywhere?" he asks, eyebrows knit in pleasure as he fucks into you. he's so possesive, it makes your face warm. you nod, "anywhere."

he's smirking, and you know he's thinking about how shocked bill would be if he found out. it makes it that much hotter as you turn and see the picture of bill and richie on the wall near the door.

then richie pulls out of you and you're being flipped onto your knees, richie's large hand pushing your face towards the soft sheets. you can't help the moans that escape you as he spits onto your dripping cunt, fingers playing with your used pussy as you moan, sensitive and still desperate. "pretty baby, all fucked out. can you take one more?" he asks, hands roaming your ass. you nod, yelping gently when a hand smacks down on your ass.

"can you take one more?" he asks. "yes!" you moan into the mattress with need. he mutters, "good girl." as he pushes into you, the new angle making you moan loudly. with every thrust, he pushes you down on the mattress, making you grip against the edge of it with pleasure. one of his hands drops down to rub your clit, and you buck needily against his touch. after only a few minutes, the combination of the snap of his hips, the few slaps on your ass, and his hands on your clit push you over the edge, clenching around his cock as you whimper. your legs barely stay up after you cum, and his arm wraps around you to hold you as he pounds into you, chasing his own high.

"yes, my pretty girl, so good." he praises again, hips speeding up. you think he's close because his breathing is faster, hands gripping your hips hard as he kisses down your spine, "take it." he whispers onto your back as he finally cums, pulling out and finishing on your ass and lower back, moaning lightly.

you can't believe what just happened as richie disappears, returning at the speed of light with a damp washcloth to clean you off. you blush at how sweet the gesture is before he falls next to you on the bed, sighing. "i'll be honest, i didn't expect that."

you laugh, "neither did i. i thought i was coming home to an empty apartment and some microwave ramen."

he's staring at you, a smirk on his face, “i'd apologize again but holy fuck, you look so pretty when you cum.” you don't know what to say, feeling hot as you roll your eyes with a grin. he laughs and kisses you, “you’re cute, you know.”

"says you." you mutter against his lips. you thank god bill won't be back soon as you watch his best friend rise, naked, from beside you and grab a spare hoodie and gym shorts from bill's closet, throwing them on before handing you his own shirt to wear.

"so, lasagna?" he asks, glasses askew slightly. you laugh as you stand on shaky legs, "it's the least you could do." you joke.

tag list: @gabiatthedisco @blisshemmings @stenbrozier @sft-core @clownsloveyou @moon-shine-baby @daughter-of-the-stars11 @trashedfortozier @oceandog13 @chl0bee @kait16xo @upamongthestarss @fiantomartell @beverlyparkerr @beauregard-s @diorbubs @leighjaenikhowell @groovybimbo @deepestofwaters @unfortu-nate-ly @sassy-uris @loverloserrr @hauntingkaspbrak @soph-ec @hockslutter @babytortie @decafcoffeew @etaerealboy

#richie tozier x reader #richie tozier smut #losers club smut #losers x reader

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buckybarnesdiaries · 3 years

Text

sick headcanon

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

word count: 827 words.

warnings/tags: none. just bucky being overattentive and loving.

author notes: i'm having a cold these days and i'd love to have bucky rn just like that. life isn't fair. none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

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At the moment Bucky found you wrapped in a blanket like a burrito, his happy smile for being back at home suddenly disappeared and the concern got installed inside his chest.

He occupied the other side of the sofa, cupping your heated cheeks onto his palms to press his forehead against yours. That was how his mother used to check his temperature when he was sick. And you were on fire, figuratively.

Since then, he didn’t let you do anything more than rest. A n y t h i n g.

Bucky ensured you were comfy enough on the sofa, before placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I’ll be back in a bit. Call me if you feel worse".

He didn’t want to leave you alone, but he should go to buy some things to spoil you properly. One day, New York’s cold weather was going to kill you.

Your boyfriend not only bought some meds to treat your stuffy nose and sore throat, but he also bought the ingredients necessary to prepare a hot soup for dinner, with chicken, vegetables, and rice. A classic that Winnifred prepared for her children, mostly, at Christmas. A recipe he hadn’t forgotten. Not even after all those years.

Bucky came back as soon as the people in the supermarket let him, after some desperate minutes watching an old lady counting penny by penny to pay her groceries.

He left the bags in the kitchen, taking the nasal inhaler along with a painkiller and a glass of water.

You couldn’t help but pout at him. James was treating you with so much care that you thought you could break in one thousand pieces at any moment.

“Take the med and use it. ‘M going to run a bath, okay?” You nodded receiving a gentle kiss on your forehead.

Bucky carried you from the sofa to the bathroom in his arms, helping you later to undress yourself and get in the tub. The warm water felt like resurrecting when it covered your anatomy to your shoulders. He urged you to rest your head against the edge, placing slowly a wet cloth on your forehead.

It was funny because Bucky looked like he was trying to deactivate a bomb.

“Gimme five minutes”. He whispered into your ear with the sweetest tone of voice he had ever used with you.

Were you… going to die?

Letting you in a quiet calm inside the bathroom, he walked out to the kitchen. It took him only five minutes to chop the vegetables and to shred the chicken, adding it to the water boiling with the rice. Over medium heat, he forgot about the soup for the next twenty minutes it needed to be cooked.

He couldn’t help but stare at you a couple of seconds from the door of the bathroom, feeling a little guilty because of your flu. He was your personal stove on the cold nights but the last mission took him a minute more than expected.

Bucky didn’t hesitate to strip himself, caressing tenderly your shoulder to make you sit up and give him some space behind you.

Adjusting himself to you, he laid his thumbs on the back of your neck. You didn’t know where he learned to give massages, but he was an expert. And the contrast of his flesh hand and the vibranium’s one was indescribably pleasant.

A purr escaped your lips unconsciously, causing Bucky to chuckle while running his palms down by your back, adding some more pressure.

This man was a God’s gift.

When you felt somewhat better, he stepped out of the bath before you to find you some comfy clothes to wear. His clothes, impregnated in his scent. And after brushing and drying your hair, Bucky carried you back to the sofa and wrapped you in a cozy blanket.

Sometimes you couldn’t help but think about how someone could be afraid of him, despite what those monsters forced him to do. He was nothing but such a kind and loyal man, a little quiet and who used to push you out of your nerves with that staring thing of his.

But a good man at the end of the day.

Your boyfriend brought two big bowls of soup that smelled delicious, putting them on the coffee table to look for an old movie on TV to watch, while having that magnificent dinner.

“My mother used to say it can raise the dead”.

“What is it you’re hinting at, uh?” You replied playfully.

Your good mood made Bucky curve his mouth into a smile, staring at his blue eyes sparkling again. He knew all of that would work sooner or later.

“Thank you”. You murmured wrinkling your nose, as he leaned to kiss your forehead a little cooler. Which was a good sign that the fever was decreasing.

“Would do anything for you, babydoll, y’know it... right?”

“I do, Buck. I’d do it too”. You sighed in love, with heart-eyes, opening your arms and stretching the blanket to hug him under it.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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@mystic-232 @homesicam @theresnoplatypus @i-love-scott-mccall @slutfornat @xx-marvelfanatic-xx @goldielocks2004 @whatrambles @the-mystery-spot @multiyfandomgirl40 @purrrrfect @spidergirla5 @wanniiieeee @fanofalltheficsx @spideysimpossiblegirl @nocturnalherb16 @jointhehunt67 @the-witty-pen-name @valenquei @golden-hoax @hunter-of-baker-street @missusstark @vhscherry @warm-sensations @edenxecho @addictedtofictionalcharacters @sarahsmcu @tinylumpiaa @amelia-song-pond @heartislubbingdubbing @stolenxkissess @clean-and-claire @winchestersgirl222 @virgoroses @marvel-ousnesss @lewd-alien @kait-is-always-late @sesamepancakes

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fluff #bucky x reader #marvel x reader #bucky fluff

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wlwmarvelenthusiast · 3 years

Text

Turn Your Luck

Summary: After a day filled with bad luck and a series of unfortunate events, Natasha manages to turn your day around

Pairing: Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Warnings: None

Words: 6,167

When you woke up in the morning and smacked your big toe off your bed frame, you didn't even think twice of it. It sent a jolt all throughout your foot, but after a few swear words, you were already feeling a little better. You didn't bother making the bed you'd just stood up out of. All your life you'd reasoned that it wouldn't be 24 hours before you just messed it up again. You grabbed a towel and moved into the bathroom. The hot shower made you forget all about the sore toe you'd been sporting only a moment earlier.

You were feeling great when you stepped out of the shower. The warm water had always instilled comfort into your very bones even this early in the morning. You wiped some of the condensation off the mirror to brush your teeth. The tube of toothpaste was completely empty, and the drawer where you usually kept the new ones was also barren. You rolled your eyes at your own irresponsibility, before brushing your teeth without any toothpaste and then using some mouthwash to try and compensate for it. You stepped out of the bathroom.

You got dressed in your favourite white shirt and black pants before making your way into the kitchen. You tossed your phone onto the counter as you passed it on the way to the small kitchen table. You were after the fruit bowl, which was already needing a refill. There were still a few apples left, though, and you were expecting to have one for breakfast. You were mistaken. You pulled the empire apple out of the blue bowl to find the bottom had grown immensely soft and was clearly not in any condition to be eaten. You were disappointed but tossed it into the compost bin and moved on.

Humming a soft tune as you moved, you popped a pod into the single-serve coffee maker and pressed start. You were moving toward the fridge in no time when a strange noise caught your attention. You whirled to face the coffee maker. Instead of the steady stream of coffee you usually got, it was spraying the hot liquid like it was a shaken pop can. You jumped behind the small island, using it as a shield. Thankfully, you'd managed to keep your white shirt safe from the wrath of the coffee. When it stopped, you finally dared step back into the kitchen. The dark liquid was dripping down every nearby surface. You huffed, running some paper towel across the biggest surfaces quickly.

You gave up on the coffee. It seemed you weren't going to get it anyway. You glared at the machine as if it had intentionally smitten you. Instead, you reached into the fridge instead and poured a glass of orange juice for yourself. You sipped it before setting it back onto the countertop. When your phone buzzed and indicated an incoming message, you reached for it. Your elbow hit your glass and it fell onto its side. The orange liquid spilled off the counter and into your white shirt. You gave the mess the middle finger, tossing a dishtowel on it to soak it up, with the intention of actually cleaning it after work. You already had to clean the coffee up anyway.

Any attempt at breakfast was abandoned. After the three kitchen incidents combined, you were convinced you'd be better off heading to some drive-thru on the way to work. Now in a new blue shirt, you grabbed your bag and headed out your front door. You unlocked your car, slid into the driver's seat, and hit the ignition. The car sputtered for a few seconds, before refusing to start. You tried again, and then again, before groaning, taking out your frustration on the steering wheel in front of you. You stood up and stepped back out of the vehicle, slamming the door behind you with much more force than necessary.

Then, it was off to the bus stop. You headed down the sidewalk to the nearest one, pulling out your phone as you walked so you could check your app to find out when the next bus was coming. When you saw big red letters informing you that the bus was halted until further notice, though, you had to refrain from throwing your phone hard into the concrete. You supposed you should have had a little sympathy for those in the accident that had halted your bus, but you couldn't find it in yourself right then. Your morning was not going well.

It was a good thing you hadn't smashed your phone against the sidewalk. It was the only thing you could use to get you to work now. You switched apps and ordered an Uber to come to pick you up. When the driver arrived, you climbed into the back seat and gave him the address of your place of work. He nodded and pressed his foot down on the gas. Your eyes had been glued on your phone, but your gaze flickered at the driver's movement. He was adjusting the mirror and you were absolutely sure he'd angled it to face you a little better. You could have puked when you realized the creep was checking you out. You didn't say anything, at this point just wanting to get to work and be done with it.

You practically sprinted into the building when you arrived. Security didn't seem to mind your rush, having seen your face every day for over three years anyway. You hopped up the stairs two at a time, faster than the elevator would have been able to carry you anyway. When you reached the meeting room door you took a few seconds to catch your breath, not wanting to seem too flustered in your professional environment. When you finally pushed the door open, everyone was rising to their feet. Their eyes all darted up to glance at you. You smiled sheepishly.

"You're late."

"I know, I'm sorry." That was honest. You might have been frustrated, but you hadn't wanted to inconvenience any of your coworkers as well. "I've really had a rough morning."

Your boss nodded. "We've all had those days. I'll send you an email and give you a summary."

You thanked him and left the meeting room with everyone else. You trudged into your office, throwing your bag to the floor, and refraining from slamming the door behind you. You collapsed into your office chair and closed your eyes for a brief moment. But you didn't have time for that. The paperwork on your desk needed your attention. You gave it. The hours you spent on all the files, emails, and documents were the smoothest thing that had happened all day, even if it was mind-numbingly boring and felt absolutely endless. It might have been smooth sailing, but it didn't brighten your spirits at all.

When your phone rang, you reached out blindly until you felt your hand come in contact with it. You shuffled it until it was upright in your hand. You were so completely absorbed in the document that was displayed on your computer screen that you didn't even bother to look at your phone as you fumbled to slide the answer bar. Only when the incessant ringing had finally ceased did you know you'd successfully answered the call. You hesitated before you slowly raised the phone to your ear, eyes still scanning the lines in front of you.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hun."

Immediately you regretted not checking the caller ID before answering the phone. You could have kicked yourself. In fact, the move was so ridiculously and incredibly stupid that you could have beaten yourself to a pulp. The voice on the other end of the line was familiar, completely unwelcome, and not a surprise after having the day that you were having. You turned away from the screen, resting your elbow on the desk and massaging the migraine that was beginning to form in your forehead. You sighed heavily, sure she heard it.

"Hi," you stated. "What?"

"Hun-"

"Please stop calling me that, I already asked you."

You had asked her that. Multiple times. You'd broken up months ago after she'd broken your heart. Catching her in bed with someone else had left you shattered and unsure if you could trust anyone. You'd been okay for a couple months now after some comfort and reassurance from your best friend, who you were having dinner with tonight. You glanced at the time. Your attention was unfortunately brought back to the girl on the phone, though, when she sighed your name as if she were the one who was hurt. She had no right to be hurt.

"I just-"

"I'm working," you finally said bluntly. "Is it urgent?"

"No. No, I'm sorry. I... I can call you tomorrow."

You wanted to snap and tell her not to bother, but you didn't. You just nodded despite her not being able to see it, said goodbye, and hung up. Once more you were faced with the urge to smash the stupid phone. Once more you fought it, instead shoving it into a drawer so you could ignore it and work on the mountains of paperwork you had to get through before your six o'clock reservations. You got back to it. Soon enough, the information was able to push your ex far from your mind. You didn't want to think about her anyway.

It felt like it had been eons since you'd arrived at work, and yet, according to the clock in the corner of your screen, you still had over an hour until your reservation. You might have slammed your head down onto the desk in front of you had two things not stopped you. The first was the migraine that was still throbbing in your head, and the second was the ringing of your office phone. Even though you knew she couldn't call you on here, you checked the caller ID before you picked up this time. It was the front desk.

"Hey, Tamara. What's up?

"There's someone here for you. She said you're going to miss your reservations."

"Reservations? It's only 4:45."

Tamara hesitated. "Daylight savings. It's 5:45."

You had entirely forgotten about that and even if you hadn't, you would have expected the computer would auto-update something like that. But you had forgotten, and the computer hadn't jumped forward, and now you were going to be late, and you still hadn't turned in the file that you'd promised to turn in today. You groaned in frustration, but transferred the file to a flash drive, shoved it into your bag, and left your office. Clearly, everyone else had remembered the time change, as the office was empty.

You cursed all of your coworkers in your head. You made for the elevator. When you stepped on and hit the button to bring you down to the lobby, you actually crossed your fingers. With your luck, all of the cables on the elevator would snap and you'd plummet all the way to the parking garage and die in a fiery explosion. Thankfully, your little gesture of luck seemed to work, for the doors slid open safe and sound in the lobby. As you stepped out, though, your bag hit the door, and the company ID snapped off and slipped in that tiny little crack between the elevator and the floor and out of sight. You cursed loudly.

You didn't dare shine your flashlight down the crack to try and see how far it'd gone; either your phone would have gone down after it out the doors would have slammed shut on either side of your skull. Neither of those things were a chance you were willing to take. You abandoned your ID and continued to the front desk, letting Tamara know what had happened. She nodded in understanding before pointing out your best friend, who had come to collect you after you'd let her know this morning that you'd taken an Uber to work. You approached her and tapped her shoulder.

"Hey," she said brightly.

"Hey, Nat."

Natasha Romanoff was the best thing to happen to you all day. She was your very best friend. Too, maybe you wanted her to be a little more. She was the most beautiful woman you'd ever laid eyes on, the red waves on her head only accentuating her emerald green irises, which sparkled when she smiled at you. That was only her physical beauty. Though she was, to most everyone that knew her, a tough, scary Avenger, you knew it was a façade. Natasha was the kindest, most generous, selfless, and caring person you'd ever had the pleasure of knowing.

"Tamara tells me you forgot about daylight saving time started last night."

"Shut up," you grumbled.

"Irritable because you lost an hour of sleep?"

"Nat," you said, already feeling bad for snapping at her. You rubbed your head. "I'm not having the greatest of days."

That was how your friendship with Nat was. You both understood that not every day was a good day. She tried to convince you not to compare, but you especially understood that. Natasha had been through hell on Earth when she was a child and you wished with every fibre of your heart that you could bear some of that for her. But you couldn't, and you were sure that if you could have, she wouldn't let you. So instead, you understood the bad days, and in turn, she did too. When you stated that today was one of those days, she turned to you with concern sparkling in those beautiful eyes.

"You okay?" She asked.

Your heart fluttered when her hand took yours.

It was a friendly gesture, of course, but you couldn't help but wish it otherwise. You wanted to hold her hand and have it not be just as a friend. You wanted to be able to intertwine your fingers with hers and squeeze her hand tight and feel that constant touch against her. You didn't want it to be friendly, you wanted it to be more. You wanted it to be so much more. You wanted to call her yours and for her to call you hers. But she was just a friend, and it was far better than nothing.

You hadn't always believed that someone could fall in love without some sort of a romantic relationship leading up to it. Now you realized it didn't need to be romantic. You and Natasha were close. You were closer than you'd ever been with anyone before. Because of that relationship, you knew you loved her. You were head over heels in love with her at this point, and you'd realized that a little while ago when you caught yourself fondly admiring her as she drummed her fingers against the table, deep in thought. It was a habit that had once had the ability to drive you up the wall.

"Hello?" She tried again. Her hand squeezed yours.

Your stomach flipped. "Yeah. I'm alright. Just waiting for my bad luck to run out."

"What happened?"

"What didn't happen?" You scoffed. "My fruit is all spoiled, my coffee maker broke, I spilled orange juice on my favourite white shirt, my car won't start, my bus wasn't running this morning, my Uber driver was a creep, I missed my meeting, I almost missed our reservations, I lost my ID badge and... she-who-must-not-be-named called."

Natasha's eyes darkened, her hand gripped yours tighter, and her gaze moved to meet yours. You took a chance and swiped your thumb over the back of her hand to try and get her to ease the tension out of her muscles. It seemed to work, as she relaxed a little. Her shoulders moved back down, the crease in her eyebrow lessened, she loosened her grip on your hand and exhaled carefully. She nodded in thanks, green eyes once against soft and gentle as she searched your eyes. You knew she was looking for any hint of you being upset. You weren't, though. You were with her.

Natasha hated your ex-girlfriend about a hundred times more than you did. She'd begged you to let her sneak over to her house at night and slash her tires and egg her house. You'd given that a firm no, not wanting Nat to get in any sort of trouble. It was Natasha's idea to never speak her name again, and to burn a bunch of photos and clothes that were left behind at your house. She'd gone so far as to have the bench you'd once carved your names into removed from the park and replaced with a brand new one... on Tony's Starks card, of course.

"What did she want?"

"Dunno. I told her I was busy," you actually laughed a little for the first time that day. "It wasn't exactly a lie. I was swamped today."

"Hey, if Fury is overworking you, I'll kick his ass."

Imagining Natasha kicking Nicholas Fury's ass was utterly amusing. You had no doubt she could, but Fury was a force. She'd kick his ass and the next day half of S.H.I.E.L.D. would be at her doorstep to retaliate. But he was a good boss. It wasn't his fault you'd procrastinated your own work for days. That was on you, and you knew it. So, you shook your head no, he wasn't overworking you. She seemed satisfied by that, but the topic of your ex wasn't dropped yet.

"Next time she calls you can direct her straight to me."

"Tasha, you won't answer."

"Damn right I won't."

You laughed again. It brought a smile to her face too.

With that, you continued on down the street without another word of she-who-must-not-be-named. You had almost reached the restaurant where Natasha had left the reservations when you stepped on something that most definitely was not concrete. If Natasha hadn't had your hand, your leg sliding out from underneath you would have left you on your ass. She held tight to your hand, her other arm catching you around the waist. You had to force yourself from blushing red as a tomato.

You glanced down at what you'd stepped in and could have punched someone. The white paint that was being used on the storefront had spilled onto the sidewalk and of course, you'd stepped in it in your new, black shoes. You scraped the bottom of it off on the sidewalk, grumbling all the while. Natasha had let go of your hand when you'd tugged it away from her to wipe the excess paint on the side of your shoe onto the post of the 'no parking' sign next to you. It was still ruined, but at least you'd gotten enough off that you wouldn't stain the restaurant's floor.

"You weren't kidding with the bad luck, huh?"

You shook your head no. You motioned onward, though. She got the hint, and you closed the distance between you and the restaurant. You shifted your bag on your shoulder as you stepped in, hoping they wouldn't notice the wet paint you were tracking onto their floors. If you managed in and out without them seeing, you'd be alright. It was New York City. You were sure people had walked in with worse things on the underside of their shoes.

You watched Natasha closely as she gave her name for the reservation. You hated how the host eyed her even more than you hated how your Uber driver had eyed you this morning. You didn't want anyone to eye her like that. You wanted to be the only one allowed to look at her like that. You knew you weren't, though. You ripped your gaze away from where it had been travelling along her jawline just in time for the host to arrive and lead you to your table. You sat across from her, keeping your eyes down and you collected your thoughts.

"What are you having?"

When you looked up, her eyes were trained on you. Her eyes were your absolute favourite part of her. They always shone so brightly, and so clearly expressed whatever she was feeling. They sparkled like they could see into your very soul and were so deep you could get lost in them for hours. Even the colour was perfect. They were that amazing shade of green that had very quickly become your favourite colour. You often found you'd been staring into them for a little longer than what might be considered normal. Now was one of those times. You looked back down at the menu.

"I'm not sure. Definitely a drink," you hummed. "Though I might get poisoned."

She rolled her eyes. "I don't think your luck is so bad that your assassin will choose to poison you today."

No, because she would protect you from anything. She always had. You might have been a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and perfectly capable of protecting yourself, but she was always stepping in front of you to defend you. You couldn't say you minded. You liked having her at your back. Some people had a physical location where they felt safe. You didn't. Natasha Romanoff was your safe place. When you were with her, you felt like nothing in the world could touch you. She wouldn't let anything hurt you, and you wouldn't let anything hurt her.

Soon enough the waitress was stepping up to your table and taking your order. You gave yours first, opting for a simple fettuccine alfredo. Natasha gave hers, unaware of the way you watched her lips moving as she talked. When the waitress left and she looked back to you, your eyes were cast toward the window, watching a young couple pass by, huddled close together in the cool March evening. When she called for your attention and you gave it immediately, looking over to her. She sipped her wine as you did.

"You said your car wouldn't start?" She said.

"Yeah. It keeps sputtering on and on."

"I'll drive you home and take a look at it tonight. I know a thing or two about cars."

It was a good thing she did, because you knew absolutely nothing about what was going on under the hood of the car. All you could think was that maybe the battery had died on you, but that wasn't possible. If you'd left the lights on, you would have been able to see it through the window in your bedroom the night previous, and you hadn't. There was no other reason the battery could have been drained. You'd driven the car yesterday from your house to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s New York location. You might not have known what the hell was wrong, but Natasha would figure it out in seconds. The thought of her bent over to study the underside of the hood made you shiver.

The image was pushed from your mind when the waitress returned with your food. She placed your pasta down in front of you and you thanked her politely. She set Natasha's down as well. The redhead smiled widely and after double-checking that everything was alright, the server left the two of you to your dinner. Natasha glanced up at you, a very amused smile playing on her lips. You knew exactly what it was about, too. You'd gotten the wrong order and said absolutely nothing of it. Honestly, you didn't really care. At this point in the day, you just wanted to eat.

"You could've said something," Natasha teased.

"It's nothing. I'm hungry and this is just as good."

"We can still say something."

"It's fine," you assured.

"Let's stop and buy you a couple hundred good luck charms on the way back to your place."

You laughed aloud.

Dinner was good, despite having gotten the wrong order. You suspected that was due to Natasha's presence. The two of you had been exchanging stores of the craziest missions you'd ever gone on. Of course, she was winning. She was an Avenger. Your missions as a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent were anything but boring, but they didn't compare to the alien invasion last year that Natasha had been at the heart of. You'd been helping from the edges of the city, evacuating civilians and the like, but you suspected she'd killed hundred more of the Chitauri than you did: one.

Before long you'd both finished, and the empty plates were cleared away. The server returned to you with the bill. You made sure your card was out before Natasha could even think about trying to pay. They collected your card, and you gave Natasha a very smug little smirk. She only rolled her eyes and thanked you softly. You thought all was said and done when the server returned. You prepared to leave but she shook her head, signalling you to stop what you were doing. She reached out, handing you your card back. You took it.

"I'm afraid the transaction isn't going through."

It seemed that your bad luck had struck again. You were fully confident that there was enough money in your account. There had been last night when you'd checked it, anyway. Either you'd had the misfortune of your card deciding to kick the bucket while you tried to buy dinner for Natasha, or even worse, someone had gotten into your bank account and cleared it out. That thought made your heart drop into your stomach as you reached for your phone, hardly noticing Natasha pulling out her own credit card this time.

You prayed for one tiny bit of luck today. Your prayers went unanswered. You logged into your online banking to find that someone had managed to get your credit card number and had been online shopping all day. Your card had long hit its limit and you were already dreading the phone call you were about to have with the bank. You huffed as you set your phone down roughly on the tabletop. Natasha glanced over at you as the server took her card this time. She raised an eyebrow. You were sure smoke was billowing from your ears.

"Luck isn't turning yet?"

You didn't answer that. "Thanks for dinner, Natasha."

She laughed. When the server returned her card and wished you both a good evening, she took your hand and dragged you back out the doors onto the noisy streets of New York. She was leading you back to S.H.I.E.L.D., where you knew she must have left her bike. When you got there, she scanned her ID and brought you both down into the parking garage. She brought you right to the motorbike and lifted the helmet off from where it was hanging on the handlebars. She reached out and set it on your head, doing it up underneath your chin. Her fingers brushed your skin as she worked at the straps.

"Normally I would never condone riding without a helmet, but I only have one. This head," she said, rapping her knuckles twice against the helmet on your head. "Is much more important than mine."

"Is not," you laughed. "There's hundreds of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, but there's only six Avengers."

"And there's only one you," she insisted. "The helmet stays on that pretty little head of yours, and that's final."

That compliment seemed to awaken the butterflies in your stomach. They were still present when you both climbed onto the bike. They fluttered even more when Natasha told you to put your arms around her and hold tight. You could have stayed like this forever if she'd asked you to. You almost wanted her to ask you to, because you loved the ways your arms fit perfectly around her waist. Facing forward, she wasn't able to see the smile that was growing on your lips. Maybe all that bad luck was to make up for this.

Reluctantly, you took your arms off from around her when she pulled into your driveway. She put the kickstand down and took the helmet once you'd pulled it off and handed it back to her. You straightened out your hair a little bit in the reflection of your car window. Wordlessly, Natasha had moved to the hood of your car and tapped on the red paint to get your attention. You unlocked the car and popped the hood for her. She unhooked the latch and lifted it up, studying the inside carefully. That scene you'd been picturing earlier was coming true before your eyes.

"Start the car for me?"

You nodded. You dropped your bag on the doorstep, digging through the pockets until your hand had closed around your car keys. You withdrew them by tugging on the dinosaur keychain that Natasha had once given you after winning it at the arcade, where you'd spent hours at all the different games. You slid into the front seat, turning on the car when Natasha gave you the thumbs up. The car sputtered loudly. Then it made a sound you might have mistaken for a gunshot. The backfire nearly made you jump out of your seat. You quickly got out.

"You alright, Nat?"

"I'm good," she nodded. She moved away from the car. "It's probably just your spark plugs. When's the last time you had them replaced?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Hell if I know. I drop it off for a tune-up and expect them to tune it up."

Natasha laughed. "I'll grab some tomorrow and replace them for you."

You nodded. You watched as she reached up and grabbed the hood of the car, closing it again. She rubbed her hands against her pants. You clicked a button on your car keys, locking the doors. The lights flashed to indicate that it was indeed secured. You fiddled with the keys in your hand to get the house key out, opening your mouth to invite Natasha in as well, but found you couldn't find the golden key. You growled at nothing and dug through every pocket in your bag to see if it had fallen off in there, but there was no trace of it.

"My house key is missing."

Natasha actually laughed at this. "Did you walk under a ladder this morning? Spill the salt? Break a mirror?"

You glared at her. "Can you help me get in through a window?"

She nodded. You both moved around to one of the windows that you'd left open last night, after telling her you weren't sure you had locked it when you shut it this morning. Indeed, she found that once you'd removed the screen, she was able to slide the window open. You linked your fingers together to make a spot for Natasha to use for leverage. You boosted her through the open window and then moved back to the front door just as you heard the deadbolt slide out of place.

"My hero," you grinned as she opened the door. "I owe you a drink. Come on."

"I still have to drive home."

"Stay the night," you offered. "If you don't, I could very well just get murdered tonight."

Natasha laughed. "Well, I'd better stay and make sure you're okay, then."

You smacked her gently. She knew her way around your small bungalow well, having visited what could have easily been a million times. She made herself at home on the couch, tossing her leather jacket beside her. You moved into the kitchen, only paying half a glance at the towels you'd thrown over the two spilled beverages. You poured the both of you a drink and then brought them into the living room, kicking back on the couch beside her. You grabbed the remote, clicking the TV on. The screen lit up the room. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the beautiful face beside you that had been illuminated. You turned back to the screen.

"I can put Netflix on," you said, pressing a button. "What do you want to watch?"

"Can I test your luck?"

"What?" You responded, turning your full attention to her.

She didn't offer an explanation. You felt her hand touch your thigh. Your breath hitched and the remote almost fell to the floor. You managed to set it down on the table as your cheeks began to burn red. She left her hand there for a few seconds before it slid away, letting you take a moment to remember how to breathe. Her hand moved away and wrapped around her glass. You knew how obvious you were being when you watched her touch the rim to her lips and the slight movements in her neck as she swallowed the alcohol. You needed a drink too, but you were frozen.

"I just mean... I could either turn your luck around or just maintain the bad luck."

You still didn't know what she meant. She was setting her glass down on the coffee table. Her eyes searched yours and you were once again tossed into the sea of green that you were so obsessed with. When she leaned forward and connected your lips, though, you lost sight of emerald green. Her eyes had shut and only a second later, yours had fluttered shut as well. You put a hand on the back of her neck to hold her closer and moved your lips with hers. You wondered briefly if you were dreaming. You didn't have long with your thoughts. Your mind was so overcome with whatever was happening right now.

Natasha pulled back. Her hand had, at some point, moved back onto your thigh, and was resting there gently. Your hand moved to cover it. She flipped hers over so that her fingers could intertwine with yours and for the first time, it didn't feel like it was just in a friendly manner. It felt so much more than that, just liked you'd wanted it to. Your eyes moved from there up to her face. She had been studying you intently. You'd never seen Natasha Romanoff look nervous. Not until that very moment. You chuckled a little, nervousness in your chest as well, and let your eyes fall.

"You definitely turned it," was all you said.

"Yeah?"

"By a long shot. I mean, I think this amount of good luck was enough to actually balance out the bad luck."

You didn't know Natasha could giggle, but she did. The sound made a smile immediately spread over your face. You reached out and took her hands in your own. You leaned forward and kissed her again, infatuated with the feeling of her soft lips pressed against yours so rough and yet somehow so soft. One of your hands pulled out of hers so it could thread through the red waves on her head. You'd wanted to do that for so long. She only pulled back when you'd both lost your breath. Your forehead rested against hers and you could smell the whiskey on her breath.

"Do you know how long I've wanted that?" You breathed.

"I'd guessed it, but I thought it was just my imagination because I wanted the same thing."

You laughed. She put her hands on your shoulders, pushing your back down against the couch and then putting her knees on either side of your waist. Her lips were on yours again, a little hotter this time. You didn't complain. You just let her lean down over you and kiss you and run her hand down your side. You only raised a hand to her chest and pushed her away when you once more felt the need for oxygen burning inside your chest. She didn't move far, face inches from yours, studying you this time from above. You blushed under her gaze.

"I... I've felt really strongly about you for a while," you said, hand moving so you could trace your fingertips across her cheek. "You know what I mean?"

"Are you trying to tell me you love me without saying you love me?" She asked, the teasing back in her voice again. "Because you're not going to scare me off. You can say it if you want."

"I love you, Natasha."

"I love you, too."

You couldn't help but laugh. It wasn't funny in any way, but maybe it was the relief trying to find a way out of your body. The sound seemed to make Natasha's eyes, sparkle. Your heart softened and the laughter fell from your lips and you didn't move a muscle. Her face was so beautiful looking down at you like it was. You felt so right having her touch you like this and touching her the way you were. Her hands were holding her torso up above yours and yours were touching her face so gently. It wasn't like a friend touched a friend anymore.

"Thanks for turning my luck."

"Are you kidding me? I'm the lucky one."

"I think we're both really fucking lucky, Natasha. Thank you."

#natasha romanoff #natalia romanova #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #mcu #marvel #wlw #lesbian

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fullfiresiren · 3 years

Text

beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

— — — 5 years later — — —

In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x you #angst #pregnant!reader #abandonment #dilf toji

1K notes · View notes

spidxysense · 3 years

Text

Back to You | 14

Summary: He broke your heart, but you’d always love him. Two souls that not even the universe could tear apart, even if you wanted it to at times.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Timothee Chalamet

A/N: Yay I updated! I hope you guys like this one, I was stuck for a bit there but once I sat down and got to typing, I really finished it in one sitting. I was just planning on updating it bit by bit lol. Let me know what you guys think, Love you!!!!!!

Word count: 2,591

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14

In a few short months of your movie premier with Timothee, you were finally able to release your double-release album, and the response was massive, to say the least. You'd been getting calls from different show hosts' upcoming awarding ceremonies. Still, you couldn't for life in you accept, all except for the Oscars, which your manager told you was a must since you'd be attending in the first place anyway and that performing at the Oscars was a big deal given that you also starred in films and shows.

You turned in bed, facing Timothee's sleeping face. He had been in town for a week now, back on a break from filming in Hungary. Then he'd be back to film in England in a couple of weeks. After your talk on your premiere night, it was to an agreement that whatever you had going on was just two people exploring and experiencing things with someone they had strong feelings for. There wasn't a need for a media circus to cover anything about you two except your movie.

You move his arm, placed it over your waist, and sit up slowly in bed, making sure not to stir Timothee. The jetlag must be shit. You stretched your arms in front of you, glancing at the clock that read 2:07 AM. You get up, grabbing Timothee's white shirt from the floor, and, putting it on, walking over to the bathroom. You looked at yourself in the mirror, touching some of the reddening parts of your neck courtesy of Timothee, and then you notice the toothbrushes… there were two. From this single thing alone, it had you catching everything about the bathroom, how there were two towels, one black, and one violet, which just so happened to be your favorite color.

You walked over to the nightstand beside the bed, putting on your skinny jeans, turning on the lamp, and noticing his wallet. Inside was a picture of you. Opening the closet doors, the ones hung up were various suits, jackets, and even dresses you've worn to events. Why didn't he just send these back? Why would he let you keep your stuff in his house?

You drag your feet downstairs, noticing small details you'd been blind to before, like the large dog bed positioned by the door despite Timothee telling you he could only ever get himself to take care of a tiny dog. You noticed the colored mugs and bowls, a deep dull navy blue color, the same as the ones in your house. Suddenly, everything feels as if it's moving too fast. You both agreed there was no relationship, and there was attraction, but why does his home feel like it's become yours as well?

You sit down, taking a few deep breaths before deciding to stand up and grab your cardigan from the coathanger, opening the front door and closing it behind you as you waited for a taxi to bring you to the more active part of the city at night.

You just couldn't deal with a relationship right now. You couldn't let your heart get broken again, so you have to find ways to distract yourself.

The car stops in front of you, driving off into the night and dropping you off by a club that Troye agreed to meet you at.

You and Timothee had an attraction, but you both agreed there was no label; ergo, there was no intimate relationship even though you both have done everything together. No boyfriend means you were free to do whatever you wanted without worrying about him. But if you were honest with yourself, this was more of you suggesting something you already knew Timothee wasn't too keen on agreeing with but would just because he thought that having something with you was better than absolutely nothing. You saw Troye waiting out by the back entrance for you when he spotted you and called you over. Almost like clockwork, every time you snuck out away from Timothee, everything in you screamed to turn back, to clear your head, and for the first time, you listened.

You motioned for Troye to go ahead and sent him a text that you'd probably just head home because you weren't feeling well. He gave you a knowing look before looking like he finally approved of your actions and sent you a quick and short 'Good." text, and headed inside.

You walked around for a while after that. Soon it was already just about 5 in the morning, and even though you wouldn't let yourself come to any conclusion as to what you even wanted out of this almost relationship with Timothee, you still found yourself back at his front door.

You took out the keys in your pocket, slowly opening the door only to find Timothee sat on the couch, his knees up to his chest as he stared off into space, either deep in thought or trying to keep himself awake… maybe even both.

When he saw you enter, a soft smile formed on his face, and for some reason, that made you smile too.

"Hey, you." He spoke softly.

You sat down quietly next to him, instantly he set his feet on the ground and reached over to embrace you in a hug, the familiar scent of Timothee that never left you that evening even more evident… It felt and smelled familiar, and right now, while your mind was a mess, familiarity was what you needed.

Timothee lifted his head, worried, "Hey, are you alright?"

You sighed, "I don't want to hurt you."

He murmured quietly into your neck as he peppered kisses, "You could never."

You pulled away, feeling guilt in your bones, "Aren't you even a little bit frustrated that we've been like this for months? That even in private, we can't even say that we're in a relationship?"

You gave you a reassuring look, "We both wanted this Y/N."

You sat up, "Except we didn't… You didn't." You corrected yourself, "You're bringing your mother to the fucking Oscars next month because I told you we couldn't be seen together at carpets for Pete's sake."

You stood up, starting to pace back and forth, "We have to coordinate outfits for the sake of not matching, and we never go out because I can't be seen with you in fear that we're going to get found out. I'm a terrible fucking person, and I don't understand how you're so okay with this."

Timothee was grinning, sleep still in his eyes, "I'm okay with it because I love you, Y/N."

You froze in your spot, "You what?"

He nodded and got up, walking over to you. The blue light of the early morning peaking through the curtain made this moment feel and look ethereal, "I said I love you, Y/N. I've known that I loved you from the moment I met you." He kissed the top of your head as he embraced you.

You shook your head, "No, no, no, you don't. I'll even list more shit I've done to you just so you understand how and why you don't love me."

Timothee chuckled, "And yet despite all this... all that's registering in my head is the fact that you've been thinking of me and only me this whole time. You've been worried about how you're hurting me because you don't want to."

And that's when you realized that Timothee was right. This whole time you've been thinking of Timothee and how much you wanted to protect him from you, but he never wanted to be protected from you because he knew that you could never hurt him. You rested your forehead against his.

"I-I need to go. I need to think."

He smiled sadly, "I'll be here when you're ready. I'll always be here Y/N until you don't want me to be here anymore."

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

You sat in your house, since leaving Timothee's earlier, you had been sat there lost in thought as you argued with yourself. It was true, the last thing you wanted was to hurt Timothee, but you were confused because it's like you couldn't understand your feelings. After all, a particular person still held a large part of it in his hands.

Timothee was there for you. Late night at the recording studio, whether through being there physically or even calling you or skyping you, he was always there. He was there with you when you bought all your albums from Target, and he was also the one who insisted you find another target that hasn't sold out your CDs so he could buy all of them too. Timothee was there with you when you had interviews that you almost felt like you could puke from nervousness backstage as he watched you talk about another celebrity you were getting linked to, and he was there with you to giggle about how stupid talk shows were. Timothee was always there. Whether it was dancing, kissing, or even fighting in the rain, he was always with you. He always wanted you around. Even when you rode the subway to get to a press conference of his or a promo for his upcoming movie, he always wanted you with him. He'd run with you in the rain, and he'd kiss away the sadness when you didn't want to speak with him. He was there with you when you get the sudden urge to buy all the popsicles from the nearest whole foods, and he was there with you when you got sick with the flu, which he also got from you. You'd spend afternoons walking around a far-off hill as you two put flowers in your hair despite knowing that you two probably had your busy schedules. Nothing mattered when you were with Timothee. Nothing mattered except each other. A part of you felt hurt that these memories you had kept of you and Tom were slowly being replaced by everything Timothee, but a large part of you also knew that the person you have now had no doubt that you couldn't ignore your feelings. You couldn't have to take Timothee out of your life.

Making up your mind, you got up, got dressed, and left for where you were sure you would find Tom.

He was in the middle of filming a new movie, but the second he saw you, he immediately asked to stop filming, a familiar, loving face plastered on as he walked over to you before being stopped by the director. They looked to be having a bit of a disagreement before he pointed you out, and the director looked at you in realization, patting him on the back and allowing him to jog over to you.

"Hey." You paused, your hand grasping your arm, and Tom took notice right away.

His eyebrows furrowed, "Hey, what's wrong?" He pulls you to sit by the curb as you two sat side by side, "You only do that when you're having a hard time saying something."

You gave him a look, "Well… I came here to ask you if it was alright if I try things out with Timothee."

He looked taken aback, "Oh, well, honestly, I thought you came by to sort things out between us…." He took notice of the way you looked down in guilt, "I don't think you could do anything with another guy that wouldn't upset me… but I don't really get that prerogative anymore, Y/N." He sighed, wrapping an arm around you to comfort you, "The fact is, you're trying to grow into who you've always wanted to be, and I'm trying to do that too for the sake of us and what we could be. If that means that you need or want to date someone again, I'll fully support you, but the most important thing is, does he make you happy?"

You sighed, looking out onto the filming lot, and nodded slowly, not noticing the slight upset look on Tom's face, "I catch myself sometimes smiling to myself when I think of him… But it's like I can't do anything because I don't want to let go of what we had."

Tom took a gulp, deciding that what was important right now was you, more than what he wanted, "What we had and what we were isn't important anymore Y/N. I'm working towards what we could become. What we had was co-dependency and a constant need to be in each other's presence to prove that what we had was perfect. I want us to find each other again in the future and know that no matter how far apart we are, if hopefully, we get together again, there is nobody in this world we'll love more… and that's what I'm encouraging you to do. I want to grow with you and grow for each other, and if that means you dating other people to understand yourself more, then I support you."

You looked at Tom for a second before hugging him and pecking him on the cheek, "I really needed that, Tom. Thank you."

He hugged you tighter, "Anytime. I'll always be here for you, Y/N."

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

You gripped your seat in the car in pure nerves. You were on your way to the Oscars with your assistant constantly telling you about your performance and what not to mess up and things to remember, especially about reporters who wanted an interview with you. To say you were all nerves today was an understatement. You hadn't spoken to Timothee ever since you told him you needed time to think, so today would be the first time you would ever come face to face with him. You thought long and hard about everything between the two of you. Still, you think you're finally ready to actually put some time and effort into this… and if that meant doing things that would significantly make Timothee happy, then you'd do it.

Your assistant watched a live feed from the Oscars as she gave you updates on how Armie was on the carpet. Saoirse was on the carpet, talking about how she hoped to make a movie with you and various other stars. You were a few minutes away from the carpet when she spoke up again.

"Timothee has just arrived." then she looked at her phone and back at you, doing a double-take as you gave her a sheepish smile, all she could do was smile approvingly at you before going back to giving you live updates.

A few minutes later, and your heart didn't feel like it was going to slow down anytime soon as your assistant gave you a pep talk, "Y/N. You are gonna rock that carpet, you'll turn heads, and most importantly, you're gonna be the talk of the night. There is nothing that could go wrong tonight. Just take deep breaths and don't trip."

Luckily you were still coherent enough to understand what she said as you took deep breaths to calm your nerves.

"Alright, three… two… one." The door flew open as one of the large men in suits grabbed your hand and helped you out. Your dress was not providing you much flexibility to move, and for almost 15 seconds, it felt like everything was moving in slow motion as everyone was quiet. You found Timothee busy with an interview as the crowd looked from you to him, the topic on everyone's minds for the past few months. As if this were the only proof they needed, they held their cameras in their hands as they snapped pictures of you and a commotion started as they started asking for Timothee.

You think you gave them a quick, charming grin as you told them he was in an interview before walking towards the interviewer and Timothee. She was the first to notice while Timothee talked about how his mom stood him up as his Oscars date, something you arranged a week earlier and something Timothee's mom was more than happy to comply to.

The interviewer looks ecstatic as the only one and the first one on this carpet to get whatever the scoop was here, as she wasted no time when you slowly approached them, "Timothee! You said you were stood up, but you never told us that your backup would be late!"

Timothee shot her a confused look before he felt your arm slowly snake around his arm, "Sorry I'm late." You quickly whispered to him.

His face looked shocked. Almost as if a reflex, he almost pulled away from you before getting a good look at what you were wearing. His jaw looked like it would drop to the floor as he looked utterly awestruck.

The interviewer giggled nervously, already knowing her interview time was slowly coming to an end without any payoff to the two of you, "Timothee, you look to be speechless at Y/N's dress tonight." She looked at you hopefully, "Could everyone here assume this is date night?"

You smiled shyly at the lady before giving her a tiny curt nod, "I know it's a bit cliche to match outfits, but when I saw that Timothee was going to wear a harness, I just couldn't let him take all the attention for tonight, so I apologize, but I've kept this secret from him too just to make sure he doesn't do anything to take the spotlight, that's why he looks like he's just had a heart attack." you giggled.

He gave a quick, playful tilted look to you before blinking multiple times, "In my defense, I didn't even know that this was a harness... They told me this was a bib."

"Bib or not, you two look like the sexiest couple on the carpet, and I just so happen to be the luckiest interviewer tonight." The interviewer looked ecstatic as can be as she jumps up, more energetic to interview the two of you, "And well, Y/N, one look at you, and it's hard to believe anyone would still have the ability to speak. You look gorgeous." She winked at the camera, "But I can't help but notice you just confirmed this is date night… Is it safe to assume what everyone has been wondering for the past few months? That you two are dating?"

Somehow, Timothee finally snaps out of it and looks at you, a questioning look before you leaned over and spoke into the mic, "Yeah. We're together. We have been for a while now." You smiled sheepishly as you saw Timothee's face glow as he wrapped his arm around your waist, "I apologize for keeping quiet for so long, but we think it's the right time to go public now that we've decided to take things to a more serious level."

The interviewer waves a hand in the air, "As long as you two let us in on the secret, there's no problem there." She faced the camera, "You heard it here first, folks. Hollywood's newest and hottest up and coming power couple. From both Y/N and Timothee themselves, now going public with their relationship."

As you two walked away from the interviewer for more pictures, Timothee embraced you, uncaring of the cameras flashing in your faces, "Are you serious?"

You nodded slowly, "I'm ready to be with you completely, Timothee. I'm sorry I took so long."

He shook his head like a puppy, "As long as you're here with me now, Y/N, I don't care."

He pulled away at the sound of your name and his in the same sentence as the photographers asked for your attention. He quickly kisses you on the cheek as you shut your eyes and grinned, cameras going off and commotion started up at you two, the young hot couple everyone had wanted more details on.

Timothee clutched your waist tightly, almost like he was afraid that if he let go, this would all go back to how everything was before.

Before entering the venue, he pulled you to the side, "Are you sure about this? I don't want you to force yourself."

You shook your head, guiding his head to yours, "I think I'm in love with you too, Timothee. I'm all in with you." And then you kissed him.

#Timothee Chalamet #timmy #selena gomez #tom holland #tom holland fanfic #tom x reader #timothee chalamet fanfic #timothee x reader #bty #back to you #i finally updated #im so sorry i took so long #thank you for being so patient and always supporting my page #spidxysense

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tharros-auris-black-asimi · 3 years

Text

Lay All Your Love on Me (Chapter 7) (Part 1)

Paring: Soft Dark Alpha Lee Bodecker x Female Omega Reader

Summary: After moving to Knockemstiff, Ohio with your troubled parents, you find solace in the local Seven-Eleven. There, you bump into the Alpha sheriff, Lee Bodecker.

And then you keep bumping into him. There's just something about the chubby Alpha that keeps drawing you in. Now there's something going on with the new preacher of the church that you attend. Everything's a mess.

But you're an unbonded Omega. Life can turn to shit anyway.

Chapter Warnings: This chapter opens with Lenora's post-rape. Mentions of sexual coercion, as well as cheating from Preston's end. Unplanned pregnancy via rape is mentioned here too. Mentions of serial killers, and Carl just being downright creepy. Anger issues from the Reader, as well as gun violence and death threats. There's also another character death in here, so we're keeping count of the body count, lol. Some possessive behavior from Alpha Daddy. I've been writing him as soft!dark, but in this chapter and the next one, he's gonna be full-on dark. Maybe a tiny smidge of fatphobia in this one? Like a small smidge. A blink and you'll miss type of smidge. Just to cover all of my bases.

Additional Notes: I am so, so sorry for how long it took for me to update this on Tumblr. I usually update this fic on my AO3 first before I update it on here. But, since I split this chapter into two, it took longer than I thought. So this will just be part one, and part two should follow quickly!

Please read the chapter warnings before continuing with this chapter, as this chapter and the following chapter will have some disturbing themes. I want this to be a safe space for everyone. And, if you're a minor, please do not interact. Thank you!

I also have a series taglist for this series now, so if you'd like to be added to just the series taglist, let me know!

Word Count: 3, 370

Two days before your annual visit... with Lenora in the afternoon

Lenora Laferty was crouched over the toilet seat in the girl’s bathroom, vomiting her guts out.

Sick.

She had been feeling sick for the past week.

She didn’t know what had caused this. Lenora had woken up every single morning for the past week with an urge to puke her guts out.

Emma and Arvin had been getting used to the sounds of puking in the morning.

It was becoming alarming.

Emma was fully ready to ask if she had been frolicking around with an Alpha.

But she hadn’t, because she had gotten so busy.

Later though, she would ask.

Now, now though, Lenora continued to puke her guts out.

Her Omega had been very vocal this past week. Screeching. Throwing a fit. Screaming and shouting at her, due to the changes coming in her body.

She hadn’t wanted this.

She had wanted none of this.

Lenora’s Omega had screamed and shouted when Lenora had entered Preston’s car. Her screaming had become louder when the disgusting Alpha, (married too, she should add), kissed her. She had thanked some fucking being up there when Lenora had pulled away, stammering and saying that he was married.

Oh. And he was married, did Lenora’s Omega mention that?

Yeah.

Mhmm.

The Preacher was married.

He had a bite mark on his neck.

Preston Teagardin had an Omega for a wife. No pups, though. From what the church gossip said, he only got an Omega because Omegas were easier to control. His Omega wife had been a young, defenseless thing. It was horrible, what Preston Teagardin did behind her back. He had raped a young Omega who had just presented in his car, and who was currently vomiting her guts out in her school bathroom.

Lenora’s Omega remembered how much she had pleaded, begged him to stop whatever he was doing to her because she was currently sweating so much. Beads of sweat rolling down her temples as her Heat made her scent riper. Lenora had remembered saying, pleading, crying out so many no’s. She had pleaded with the Preacher that all she wanted was to make the pain go away. All she wanted was the pain to go away.

“I’ll help take the pain away,” he had told her.

What he had done to her had been way worse.

Lenora had been pleading, nay, begging him no. No, no, no, no, no. All she wanted was some toys to help her out. She’d take them and go back to the Russell household to due with her Heat herself. Her pleading had turned desperate when she saw his wedding ring on his hand. She knew he was married. He knew he was married. It was a sin. Why was he doing this? To her? All she had wanted was for him to leave her alone. To stop looking at her, sniffing at her like she was something he could eat. Like a predator in the shadows, waiting to pounce on their prey.

And he had.

Oh yes, he had.

Lenora had remembered screaming until he had put a hand across her mouth. Flipped her over onto her stomach. Her Omega had been so busy screaming and throwing a fit in her mind that she didn’t register him pulling her dress up, yanking down her underwear, where she had slapped on a thick Slick Pad.

“No,” She had been begging again, “Please Preacher- you’re… you’re married. This ain’t right.”

“It’s okay. No one has to know.”

There was a moment of hesitation.

Preston had taken that slight beat of silence as a yes.

Lenora had screamed again.

The brunette, young Omega had lifted up her head from the toilet bowl. The urge to vomit was still there.

Never had she ever felt this sick.

He had violated her body. Taken a piece of her that she could never get back.

Now, Lenora’s Omega was fully convinced, that she was pregnant with this fucker’s pup.

Lenora could feel the bile rise up to her throat again. She vomited into the bowl again.

Her scent of cherries and vanilla was burning. Making her eyes water.

Not to mention her Omega was throwing the biggest hissy fit known to man.

Her Omega wanted blood.

She wanted justice.

But now…

Now...

Everything had gone wrong.

Everything had been utterly ruined.

At the same time in Knockemstiff with you and Lee...

Carl was staring at you.

Actually, he had been interested in you ever since he came here.

Why would his brother-in-law be with someone like you?

It perked his interest.

So he watched you.

All the while your eyes were completely focused on the TV.

When Carl had been young, he never really stood out in crowds. He was always awkward. He discovered a love for photography when he had been young. He had been the only Beta in his family. His father had been an Alpha, his mother an Omega, his sister an Omega, and his brother an Alpha. His parents had always favored his brother over him, even though he had been the eldest.

With all the things at home… he never felt any happiness.

Photography slowly became his comfort.

The first time he had killed someone was when he had been in his early twenties. A simple knife through the neck incident.

It had also been his first picture.

Carl… Carl couldn’t begin to explain the euphoria that had run through him then.

Like a switch had flipped.

He had found his calling.

His true calling.

And when he had married Sandy, he had made it his life’s work.

Every murder, every picture… it was like a piece of heaven. Like Carl was close to those pearly white gates. Almost as if he was being baptized and made holy.

The Beta man had always used his Omega wife as bait to lure in his victims. Omegas had naturally sweeter scents. Easier to lure in prey. Carl never had an issue with his wife getting all of the men. Alphas or Betas. He knew male Omegas didn’t exist. Just like female Alphas. So, he didn’t mind that his Omega wife did the bulk of the work.

Until now.

Knowing how good Omegas smelled, it didn’t surprise him by how good you smelled either.

But you?

You smelled really, really, really good.

Even better than Sandy.

You smelled like chocolate chip cookies. Freshly baked. As if he had just pulled them out of the oven.

And your gland.

There was Lee’s bite mark on your neck. Showing the entire county who was your Alpha. Who you belonged to. Carl had noticed Lee’s bite on his gland from you looked to be there longer. Almost like you had bitten him first.

How peculiar.

In your society of Alphas, Omegas, and Betas, it was very unusual for Omegas to bite first. The majority of the time, it was Alphas who bit first. Omegas who bit first were considered unnatural. Unheard. Just like female Alphas or male Omegas. Not only that, it was considered taboo for Omegas to bite first.

So why the hell did Lee allow you, a normal, boring Omega to bite first?

It puzzled him.

For the first time in his life, he didn’t want to murder you.

For the first time in his life, he was jealous of his wife.

His wife always got her boy toys, why couldn’t he get his own babydoll for once?

Why not be greedy and have his own turn this time?

He inched closer to you. Scooted over just a bit. It made you stop.

You did not trust Carl.

Not one bit.

No.

Nope.

Nada.

Your eyes were narrowed. From where you were seated in the living room, you could still feel his stare. You were sitting on the couch. The furthest away from the Beta.

Oh no.

You were not going to sit next to him. Sandy, maybe. But Carl?

Absolutely not.

You were not sitting next to that man. That damn Beta smelled like rotten cabbage soup. You’d rather die than sit next to him.

The TV was still playing. Playing something. Maybe a sitcom? You didn’t know. Maybe it was I Love Lucy.

You had never wanted to flee from a room faster in your life. Sandy was with Lee, and you heard some conversation as they had walked through the front door. Because of their shopping trip. Bags full of groceries. You had seen Lee smile at his younger sister and laugh, his tummy shaking. It had made you smile. Having his sister here with his Omega, his Bondmate… it was good for him. Very good. He had been happier than ever.

Your mother was next door. Talking to the neighbors. You suspected she just wanted to play nice.

But you were not going to play nice with this Beta.

No.

Never.

You were not.

You would not be nice to this man. You could fake a smile and pretend to be nice, but the next time you would see him, you were going to grab your shotgun that Lee pretended you didn’t have under your bed and chase him around the house with it.

Just in case.

Although your mood was a bit better, considering tomorrow, you and your mother would be going to visit Lenora and Arvin. You missed them. You hadn’t called them in weeks.

Sandy and Lee were still unpacking the food when you had gotten up stiffly, not even sparing a look towards Carl.

Lee saw you walking into the kitchen.

His smile dropped at the sight of the sour look on your face.

Sandy watched as you grabbed the phone and spun the dial.

Spin. Spin. Spin.

Putting the phone near your ear, you waited.

There was a shuffling noise on the other line before you heard a familiar voice.

“Hello? Who is this?”

“Emma? It’s me.”

“Oh! Hello dear. Arvin’s here, would you like to talk to him?” Emma’s voice trailed off. “Uh-huh,” you were nodding, your voice low, “I’d like to talk to him.”

Him? Who was him?

Lee and Sandy stopped with the groceries.

There was a shuffling noise again and you heard her shout.

“Arvin! Get over here! Someone’s on the phone wantin’ ya!”

Lee froze.

His jaw clenched.

“… Hey! Why haven’t you been callin’ the house? Lenora presented!” came Arvin’s voice from the other line.

You blinked.

Clearly taken aback.

“O-Oh…” More blinking, “Lenora presented? What’d she present as? Omega? Beta?”

Sandy Henderson felt her world stop. Or freeze. Like one of those record scratches on a sitcom before the episode would rewind back to its proper place.

All of a sudden, she remembered Roy Laferty’s words before he died.

Lenora. Her name is Lenora. She’s my daughter.

“… Yeah, but she’s been actin’ real funny lately. Ya think you could talk to her when you and your Ma come to see us?” Arvin’s voice from the other line brought both Sandy and Lee back.

You were nodding.

“I mean, Omega to Omega. I love her and all, she’s my little sister, but I ain’t an Omega, ya know?” Arvin said.

“Mhmmmm… I get it…. Yeah… I’ll talk to her when we get there… uh-huh… I miss you too… uh-huh… yeah… yes… I’m on my best behavior Arvin… no I’m not causin’ no trouble… I ain’t like you and your angry ass… naw… naw… shut up and smoke ya damn square Russell… mhmmm… yeah… got someone that I’d like you to meet one of these days Arvin… he’s my Alpha… love him so much…”

Sandy saw the corners of Lee’s lips curl up into a smile at that.

He was in love.

Her Big Brother was in love. She watched him come from behind you, walking towards you and gently put his hands on your shoulders, gently pushing you back towards him. She could see him bend his head down a little and rub his nose against your gland, making you giggle and squeal. Sandy saw you, watched as a smile came over your face. Your entire face lit up as you looked at your Alpha, who was deeply chuckling at your response.

There was an aching in her heart. Watching you and Lee interact was what she had wanted with Carl. A normal, loving husband. And she had that in the first few years of her marriage. Sandy had almost felt like a princess with her prince charming. Carl had been so charming.

And then the murders started happening.

Sandy had vomited the night before they had driven up to her Big Brother’s house. First, she had taken a shower and cried in it before she had actually vomited, puked her guts out into the toilet.

She had never suspected, nor expected her life to turn out like this.

She had never thought one day that she would be marrying a fucking serial killer.

No. Never.

“… Okay! Okay, yes! Okay. Bye.”

You hung up gleefully. Turning to Lee, you saw him looking so amused.

“Ya gotta stop doin’ that Lee, you’re too distractin’,” you scolded him playfully. Clearly amused, “Oh really?” Your Alpha even had his eyebrow cocked and everything. “Me? Distracting? Never sugar. I’m a good Bondmate. I always give my babydoll the space she needs.” He defended himself playfully. You just rolled your eyes. Looking at your sister-in-law, you spoke.

“Was he always like this growin’ up?” you questioned her. Sandy snorted. “Even worse,” she said solemnly with a nod. Lee just pouted.

“Gangin’ up on me. My little sister and my Omega. I’ll never forgive you two for this.”

Giggles filled the kitchen as you and Sandy snickered.

“What’re you makin’ for lunch?”

Just like that, the entire mood had shifted.

Lee had noticed you had tensed up from where you were in his arms.

Your Omega was alarmed.

Beta.

Smelly Beta is here.

Nasty Beta.

Like the church incident where you had seen the Preacher, you stiffened up. It was like you and your Omega had become one. Like you knew what the other person was thinking. In perfect sync.

Lee made eye contact with Sandy.

And then his gaze came over to his brother-in-law.

Carl was looking at you.

Lee was reminded of those leery looks other Alphas used to give his sister when they used to be young pups. Leery, predatory looks. Almost like his younger sister was something to be eaten.

Like now.

“… Lee and I bought some tomatoes. We might just make tomato soup with grilled cheese.” shrugged Sandy.

Sandy spoke your name.

You blinked.

“Lee was tellin’ me bout that book you were readin’… I haven’t been to the library in a while. You wanna go? After lunch?”

At her suggestion, you slowly nodded. Like you were coming out of a fog.

“Yeah… yeah… sounds great. Gonna go down to the Seven-Eleven, D-Lee, you want your usual?”

You had nearly slipped up.

“Yeah,” Lee said, his eyes still trained on Carl, “Yeah, that sounds good, Omega.”

“Okay.”

He pressed a kiss on the top of your head. His keys clinked together as he slipped the keys to his cruiser into your pocket. Happily humming, you said to Sandy, “Lemme get my heels on. Then we can go. Lee, ya left ya Pepsi cup in the car again… can you bring it inside to wash it?”

Nods came from your Alpha. A happy hum came from you. Maybe even a smile. Mood temporarily raised, you made your way into Lee’s room to grab your shoes.

Lee was now looking at you as you bounced down the hallway, the mere thought of slushies always putting you in a happier mood. Blue eyes continued to watch you and Sandy, watching intensely as the two of you walked to his cruiser. He saw you say something to his sister before rolling your eyes.

It was when he realized why you were rolling your eyes.

Oh.

Never had Lee spud to you so fast.

You were already rolling your eyes again.

“Lee,” you were saying, “did ya forgot?” You made hand gestures to the cup that was still in the car. The chubby Alpha cursed under his breath and accepted the cup from you. Cup now in his hands. Even knowing that the two of you did indeed have an audience. He couldn’t help himself. His arms went around you, making the familiar scent of your Alpha waft into your nose. It made your Omega sigh in content. And then, and then when he dipped his head down, his tongue licking, pressing down on your gland, scenting you, reminding everyone in this godforsaken county who the hell you belonged to, you melted.

Sandy’s eyes were watering. Due to the intense phenomenons, her Big Brother was giving off. Eventually, Lee lifted his head up. His eyes were dark. That dark, deep, possessive feeling all wedged and shoved down part of him satisfied.

At least for now.

Now, now, he could look down at you. Down at the mating gland that showed his bite.

“I’ll get you your usual. Cherry?”

“Yes.”

A thrill ran down your spine.

“Okay. We’ll be back-”

The sounds of the car opening and closing were heard.

“C’mon!” came Sandy’s shout from the passenger’s seat, “We gotta still come back to make lunch!”

You turned back to look at Lee.

“Go, Omega.” He told you. With one last kiss on the top of your head, you waved at your Alpha before getting into the driver’s seat.

Only after watching you drive off with his sister to the Seven-Eleven did Lee walk back inside, Pepsi cup gripped in his hand.

And when the door closed behind him, it was too late.

Lee Bodecker had been too quick for the brunet Beta man. A pudgy hand came to wrap around Carl's throat, and the man was shoved back. Right up against the wall. His small brown eyes widening in fear.

The first time Carl had met Lee, he had snickered to himself, looking at the Alpha who was his girlfriend’s older brother.

Lee had long made peace with himself, that he didn’t look like every other Alpha he knew. Or had known in his youth.

He knew he had rolls. He knew his tummy stuck out and jiggled. That his face was chubbier and less chiseled than it had been when he was younger. He saw those stretch marks on his stomach, on his thighs that used to be red, but were now faded and looked like lightning bolts etched onto his pale, milky skin.

Lee had given no shits, that everyone probably thought of him as the fat Alpha. His body type did not bother him in the slightest. Nor did it bother you. In fact, whenever the two of you were in his bed together, you had always cuddled up to him. Soft, sweet little murmurs and mumbles about how squishy he felt around you, how he kept you so warm. The way he’d wrap his big, strong arms around you, keeping you feeling so safe and warm. Like a warm blanket.

Carl Henderson did not know this Lee.

Nor was he used to it.

This Lee… his part of his brother-in-law that Lee kept so deeply buried… this piece of darkness which bubbled to the surface.

Carl wasn’t used to his.

Lee’s blue eyes were pure black. He looked almost like he was in a Rut. His scent of chocolate bourbon burned, making Carl have a headache.

The Alpha didn’t even need to try to pick him up.

There was a slamming noise.

“She’s mine.”

Lee’s Alpha was seething.

“You don’t look at her. You don’t talk to her. You don’t sit next to her.”

Carl’s nose was burning. He coughed. His eyes watered.

Lee’s expression on his face looked downright murderous.

“If I see or hear you harmed a fuckin’ hair on her head, I will fuckin' kill you.”

The burning urge to just put a fucking bullet through Carl's head came, rushed through him again.

His mind was completely made up.

Carl needed to die.

Carl was going to die tonight.

Taglist: @greeneyedblondie44, @bxnnywriting

Series taglist: @queensIvy

#lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker x reader #the devil all the time #sebastian stan fanfiction #abo dynamics

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whumpy-writings · 3 years

Text

Fed and Watered

Masterlist

The story of 023, aka Henri, and Aldon continues. @thecyrulik asked if Henri's life was going to get better, so here is some comfort and fluff for poor Henri. This post is also dedicated to @whumpsy-daisy , 023's number 1 fan!

CW: Vampires, slavery, dehumanization, anxiety, starvation, disordered eating, mention of past physical and mental abuse, nudity (non-explicit/non-sexual), scars, (and fluff, I promise)

The last thing he remembered was Master telling him to breathe. Now the ground beneath him was soft.. No. Not the ground. A bed. Henri’s eyes flew open in a panic. Humans weren’t allowed on beds. He rolled to the side, falling off the bed and onto the wooden floor. Oof. He rubbed his sore nose, wincing. Henri looked around the room. It was large with dark wooden furniture giving it a sense of finery. The walls were lined with red tapestries which depicted various scenes from folklore.

Henri’s eyes stopped when they reached a small table. On the table was a bowl, and he could see the steam rising from it. Terror swept through him. Master had said it would be a couple days but apparently had changed his mind. Henri crawled over so he could clearly be seen from the door and knelt, heart pounding. Breathe, he told himself. In... out...in...out. His mind started to wander. This was his life, all he was was a meal for his betters. But sometimes… sometimes he still wished for more. He tried to push those thoughts away but they always came back, sneaking into the corners of his mind that weren’t completely dark. Thoughts of a life without fear. A life without pain. He jumped as the door opened, heart in his throat. Master stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders almost filling the entire frame. Master’s eyes fell on Henri, and Henri had to suppress the urge to flinch. A frown.

“You don’t need to do that here, Henri, you can stand up.” Henri rushed to get to his feet, a wave of dizziness hitting him. Next thing he knew, Master was next to him, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t fall to the floor.

“Careful there.” Master glanced over to the table with the soup, a crease on his brow. “Why haven’t you eaten, Henri? You must be starving.” Henri looked from the soup to Master and back again, confused. He wasn’t allowed to eat yet. Henri tipped his head to the side, exposing his neck for Master.

“No, I don’t want that,” Master said quickly.

Henri let out a sob. He was so hungry, but he couldn’t eat yet. “Please Master, please I’m so hungry and I can’t eat until you have.”

…

Aldon froze, shocked. He had never heard of such a thing. “Was that your old Master’s rule?”

“Yes sir.” Aldon considered this, horror building in his stomach.

“How often did your Master feed?” he asked.

“Usually about three times a week, sir,” Henri replied quietly.

Aldon gaped. No wonder the human was so weak. Humans needed to eat at least once every day, much more often than vampires. Aldon took a deep breath, thinking of what to say.

“Here there is a different rule. I need you to be healthy, and eating three times a week is not going to accomplish that. You’re to eat everyday, whether or not it’s a feeding day. Anytime you’re hungry, let me know and I’ll get you some food.”

Henri looked at him in shock, big blue eyes huge. Then he started to cry. “Thank you for your kindness, Master.”

Aldon’s heart broke a little at being thanked for granting the bare minimum for survival. “Of course, Henri. Now why don’t you eat your soup? I’m going to go draw a bath for you.”

…

The soup was heavenly. It was warm, with potatoes and carrots and onions. There was a slice of bread too, which filled his mouth with yeasty deliciousness. Henri savored each bite. When he was done he leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. He was full. He hadn’t been full in… he didn’t even know how long.

...

Aldon felt the bath water. Not too hot, not too cold. He turned off the tap, drying his hands on the nearby towel. Time to get Henri. Aldon walked down the hall, gently rapping on the door before poking his head in. “The bath is all ready. Did you eat?”

Henri nodded vigorously, a ghost of a smile on his pale face. “Yes Master, Thank you Master.” He got out of the chair, hesitating for an instance. “Master…” he said, face going white, “I’m sorry for using the furniture without permission. Please forgive me.”

Aldon took a calming breath. Henri’s old master was certifiably, undeniably, an awful person. “No need to apologize Henri, you are allowed to use any of the furniture that you want.”

The relief was apparent on Henri’s face.“Thank you, Master.”

Aldon turned around hurriedly so Henri would not see the rage on his face. The ways some people treated their humans were just despicable.

“Come on Henri, let’s get you cleaned up.” Henri followed Aldon down the hall to the bathroom. It was small, with a white clawfoot tub and floors and walls covered in white ceramic tiles. This was one of the few houses in this part of the city that had the luxury of running water. Aldon turned back to Henri, only to find the man already undressed, pants on the floor. Aldon turned away immediately, cheeks burning.

“Is something the matter, Master?” Henri asked, voice filled with uncertainty and a tinge of fear

“No, I just was going to give you privacy to change. You’re allowed privacy here,” he quickly added.

“Oh,” a pause. “Thank you, Master,” Henri said quietly.

“You can climb in the tub now.” Aldon averted his eyes as Henri climbed in, then turned to the human sitting in the tub, bubbles up to his chest. “Would you like help bathing, or will you be able to do it on your own?” he asked carefully.

Henri considered this for a moment. “I would like a bit of help with my back and my hair, if you would be willing to. This hair is… a mess.” he said, gesturing to the greasy blond mop on his head.

“I can definitely help you with that.” Aldon knelt down next to the tub and picked up a cloth. He could hear Henri’s elevated breathing and could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “You’re okay Henri, how about we take a couple breaths?” Aldon led Henri through a couple rounds of deep breathing, until the human had calmed down.

“I’m sorry Master,” Henri said, staring down at the water, regret thick in his voice.

“Hey,” Aldon said, reaching out and taking Henri’s chin in his hand, gently making him look up at him. Henri’s blue eyes sparkled, threatening to spill tears. “I know this has been a big change for you. Anybody would be nervous in your place. I’m really proud of how well you’re doing.”

Henri blushed. “Thank you, Master.” he said.

“Of course, Henri,” Aldon said, picking up his cloth and dipping it in the water. He started to gently rub his back. Aldon pressed his lips together. Every single rib and vertebra was visible, creating deep ridges in the skin. Henri was covered in dirt and the water quickly starting to take on a brownish hue. Aldon paused when he glanced at Henri’s neck. There was a scar there, two actually. They were parallel to each other, running from the base of his skull all the way to the collarbone. Almost as if… someone had dragged their fangs down his neck. Aldon pursed his lips, fingers lingering on the scar. Henri froze, beneath his touch. “Henri, who did this to you?”

Henri didn’t respond for a second, and Aldon started to worry that maybe he shouldn’t have mentioned it. Then finally Henri said, “Mas… Old Master” A pause. “I… I tried to run away.” Aldon cocked an eyebrow at that. Henri continued in a rush. “I know I shouldn’t have, that I should have been grateful for his protection. I didn’t make it far. This,” his fingers went to the scars, lightly tracing them “was my punishment. He wanted to make sure I knew who I belonged to. I’ll never try to run away from you, Master. I’ve learned my lesson.”

Aldon couldn’t see Henri’s face, but he could hear the sadness in his voice. Anger bubbled to the surface. How dare someone do that to another creature? Aldon pushed his feelings down. He would deal with it later.

“Thank you for telling me that, Henri.” There was silence for a while, Aldon moving on to Henri’s hair. It was matted with dirt and grease, tangled into knots. Aldon worked his fingers into the knots, slowly loosening them. After a while of working, he noticed that Henri was much more relaxed, his breathing steady. He smiled to himself. “Well, I think I’m done. Can you rinse your hair for me?”

Henri nodded, ducking quickly under the water. When he came up he was smiling. “Thank you, Master. That was wonderful.”

Aldon gave a quick nod, not trusting his voice. He cleared his throat. “You can finish up, and then get changed. There are some clothes for you on the table.” Henri nodded. Aldon left the room, quietly shutting the door behind them. Then he leaned back against it, head tilted back, and smiled.

Tag list: @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whump-cravings @thecyrulik @neverthelass @michelleswhumpyreblogs @whumpsy-daisy

#aldon the vampire #henri the human #vampire caretaker #recovering whumpee #vampire whump #whumpblr #pet whump #comfort #fluff #vampires tw #slavery tw #dehumanization tw #scars tw #disordered eating tw #starvation tw #anxiety tw #physical abuse tw #mental abuse tw #nudity tw

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Madeira. ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content.

Kim Taehyung x OC

Cop Au!

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged )

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc !

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

A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it.

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are.

This is part 1.

Part 2 soon :)

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

“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage.

There really was no other word for it.

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck.

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.

The man who had abandoned me.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

My breath shuddered out of me , a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months.

Fuck.

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design.

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that.

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) .

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks.

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother.

No.

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding.

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved.

Kim fucking Taehyung.

See, Taehyung was a detective.

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation.

A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force.

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all : just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law .

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why, when people heard his reputation and then met him, they were always stunned.

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous he could make angels cry.

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt.

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

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

The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring.

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon.

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene, but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned.

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened?

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung.

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved in, brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body .

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction.

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...”

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung.

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school.

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to her. She’ll kill you if you come near him.

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t .

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him.

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go.

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle.

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’ house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare.

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat.

Talk about embarrassing.

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had.

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me.

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives.

But the joy had been short lived.

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe.

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five.

Lonely. I was so lonely.

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me, eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing.

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified.

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity.

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt.

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know.

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day.

We would exchange small talk.

And then he would say,

“Had a glass of madeira last night.” “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night.

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come.

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.” He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you.

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.”

And that was that.

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water.

The house was deserted.

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me.

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping.

Shower.

And then bed.

Alone.

Always so fucking alone.

The phone rang then and i groaned.

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed.

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone.

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?”

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast.

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number.

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head?

“Hey baby.” He chuckled.

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little.

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze.

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.”

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing.

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond.

Staring at the screen , I hung up.

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics.

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

#taehyung fics #taehyung smut #taehyung fanfics #bts smut #ts fanfic #bts fics

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heyyyharry · 3 years

Text

Deep End - Chapter 12: Dirty Dreams

…in which Harry and Ezi kiss again…and again…and again… (THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT)

Word count: 4.6k

AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.

WARNING: MATURE THEMES

All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist

Wattpad link

Harry didn’t understand dreams. How did dreams even work? Because sometimes he would see someone he hadn’t seen in years in his dreams, even though he had completely forgotten about the person’s existence up to that point. Then there were these super violent and bloody dreams that woke him in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Then, there were some other more inappropriate dreams that made him so disappointed when the alarm rang.

Listen, Harry wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t think about sex 24/7; well, not usually. But lately, he’d been having dirty dreams more often than he would enjoy. He would wake up with his dick rock hard and end up late for work because he had to stroke one out in the shower. And he blamed it on…

“Ezi! Where are your pants? And why are you wearing my shirt?”

Ezi stopped in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice cream in one hand, the other holding a spoon in her mouth. “This is my new ‘at home’ look,” she said, while leaning against the door in nothing but his button-up shirt that fell just past her bum. As if the sight wasn’t torturing enough, she had to be licking ice cream from the fucking spoon. It was eight in the fucking morning! And Harry would not go back to the bathroom to wank again.

“But where are your shirts? Why don’t you wear them?” he asked and slipped past her into the kitchen. He would make himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t have to watch her being effortlessly sexy in the kitchen doorway.

“They said on the internet that you should borrow your boyfriend’s shirt, and you’re my fake boyfriend.”

“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled.

She gave him a shy smile and left without saying another word. That was the longest conversation they’d had since that night she went out on a date with Dawson. Ezi was always a little bit weird. Okay, well, very weird. But her weirdness had been different lately, in a bad way. She was still doing weird things, but keeping a distance from him.

Harry knew he couldn’t really complain, since he’d specifically told her to her face that he preferred it when it was just him and the cat. Having his own space had been nice for a day or two, then he’d started missing how annoying she’d been. And of course, he blamed this all on Dawson.

Harry had been second to Dawson his whole life. Ever since he’d been a kid and found out that he’d had a cousin, Dawson had been nothing but a burden for Harry. Harry was the only child, but to his parents, Dawson had been their favourite son. His father used to love sports, but Harry had never been a fan of those. Dawson, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school’s football team and was excellent at marathons as well. So if Harry’s father was still alive, Dawson would be the one making him proud by taking over the family business Harry didn’t want.

Now, just as Harry had finally gained his own spotlight as a singer, becoming great at something Dawson wasn’t good at, Dawson swept in and stole Ezi.

Harry had spent a lot of time wondering why it had mattered so much to him that Ezi had gone on one date with his cousin. He didn’t even like her like that, and the house was always peaceful without her, which he enjoyed very much. But why did the idea of her becoming something with Dawson bother him so much? He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of days. Not to mention that Ezi had started keeping distance from him. Well, he’d done it first because of the kiss, but it was weird when she did it because she had always been so fucking clingy. And he’d hated that. Until now!

Ding dong!

“What do you want?” Harry asked in the least annoyed tone he could pull off, while fighting the urge to slam the door in Dawson’s good-looking face.

“Is Ezi home?” Dawson asked.

“Ezi? You mean Ezili? Because I’m the only one who calls her Ezi.”

“Y-Yeah, Ezili,” Dawson said with an awkward smile. This guy was a tool. What did Ezi see in him?

“No, she’s at work,” Harry said, and quickly added, “but don’t think about going there. They’re having a book club meeting; she’d be mad if you showed up and distracted her.”

That was a lie. Harry didn’t even know if people actually hosted book club meetings at random book shops, but did it matter? If he was going to be petty, he must go all the way.

“What do you wanna meet her for?” he asked before Dawson could leave. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with Dawson about Ezi, but it was the only way to learn more about their date. “Did you do something that you wanna apologise for?”

“No. Of course not,” Dawson chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “She bought some books and forgot them in my car.”

“I could give them to her when she gets back from work,” Harry said.

Dawson looked hesitant. “Well, she told me not to give them to you.”

“Oh.” Harry kept a straight face, but he was very offended that she’d made that request. Did she really hate him so much for what he’d said that night?

“So,” he ventured, averting his eyes. “Guess the date went well?”

“I suppose,” Dawson said.

Harry had hoped for a different response. This one didn’t really hurt him but it didn’t make him happy, either. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “So are you looking forward to the second date?”

“I don’t think there’s gonna be one,” Dawson said, to Harry’s surprise. “I don’t think she likes me like that?”

Okay, this was the response Harry had been waiting for. He tried to suppress a grin as he patted his cousin’s shoulder sympathetically, while he was far from sympathetic. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic. I know she’s a bit out of your league, but dare to dream a little.”

“Very funny,” Dawson snorted and brushed off Harry’s hand. “But I think she has a crush on you.”

“Really? I mean, no!” Harry faked a laugh, crossing his arm and leaning against the door in an unnatural pose. “No way.” Now he sounded like a commercial guy who had never attended a single acting class. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t have a crush on me,” he stuttered. “W-Why do you think so?”

Dawson pressed his lips into an understanding smile that made Harry’s face grow red. “All she talked about for the entire night was you.”

Harry thought Dawson was just teasing him at first. Then he remembered that this was Dawson, not him. So it was true. Ezi had talked about him for the whole night when she was with Dawson.

“What did she say?” Harry asked, trying to seem more curious than excited.

“She told me you were a good cook, and then complained about your bad habits. Then it was all ‘Harry said that’ and ‘Harry said this’. It seemed like she was really into you.”

“Oh, wow.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” Harry shrugged, trying to act cool and all that. “I’m just surprised. I thought she hated me.”

“I mean, she can still hate you if she has a crush on you,” said Dawson. “Also, why is she staying with you? Where’s her family?”

Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you ask her?”

“She kept mentioning her mother but nothing more than that, and she’d just change the subject whenever I tried to ask.”

Harry didn’t have enough time to think of a lie, so he blurted, “Her family was abusive.”

Dawson looked horrified, but he completely bought that. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “She’s a lovely girl, though. I know that you don’t like her, but don’t break her heart. Turn her down nicely.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

“You don’t like Ezili, right?” Dawson asked.

“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughed, uneasily. “I mean no, I don’t.”

“Yeah, I know you don’t wanna be in a relationship.”

Harry didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things. He guessed most people would just assume he had no heart because it was easier for them to make sense of why he wouldn’t settle down. In reality it was more complicated than that. He had had feelings for some people in the past, and he’d shut them down before he got to the point of no return. Ezi might be a dangerous creature, but he’d probably hurt more people than she had, mostly himself.

So did he like Ezi? Yes. He’d just realised that when his heart blossomed to the thought of her thinking about him on a date with his cousin. There was no denying that, as he only felt this way about his own songs. But was he happy about it? Well, yeah, of course he was happy about it. He was over the moon even. Still, that didn’t mean he should do something about it. He would just keep it to himself and wait–No, hope for it to pass.

Later that night, when Ezi came home from work, she went straight into the kitchen to eat from the fridge, and Harry came downstairs to find her sitting on the floor, munching off a sandwich in the fridge light glow. He watched her for a moment from the door before deciding to break the silence.

She flinched when hearing her name. She turned around, sandwich still in her mouth. “Did Dawson stop by?” she asked. “He said he would bring me my books.”

“Yeah, he did. I put them in your room,” Harry said, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the mention of his cousin. But then he remembered what Dawson had told him and came to sit beside her on the floor.

She ignored him and continued eating. She looked nothing like someone who had a crush on him, so what if Dawson had lied to him? He had never heard a lie from Dawson, but it didn’t mean Dawson was incapable of lying.

“Ezi, I wanna ask you something,” he said.

She finished her sandwich and reached into the fridge of ice cream. “Go ahead,” she said.

Harry started fidgeting with his shirt. “Why won’t you tell me about that date with Dawson?”

Ezi didn’t look at him as she said, “Do I have to tell you? It was personal.”

“Well, your sister was there,” he reasoned, “and she’s tried to kill me several times so I think I deserve to know some details about that night.”

Yes, Harry was curious about Ezi’s sister as well, but was it bad to say that he wanted to know more about what Ezi thought of him? Was it bad that Ezi’s feelings for him mattered more than his stupid life?

“My sister wasn’t there the whole time,” Ezi sighed and dipped her spoon into the ice cream. “I got rid of her at the fair then went for dinner with Dawson.”

“Oh,” Harry said, watching her intently as she ate. “So—”

“My sister wanted me to go back home.”

Harry froze. “Why?” he blurted, suddenly anxious. “I mean…does your mother want you back? Not that I think she won’t ever want you back—”

“No.” Ezi rolled her eyes. “My sister wants me to go back in return of the throne, so she can be Queen and allow me back into the Queendom.”

“But you wanna Queen?”

“I’m going to be Queen!” Ezi snapped. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, she softened her voice, “I’m the firstborn. I’m going to be Queen. I have a year to…” Her voice trailed off and she spaced out for a second.

“To what?”

Ezi pressed her lips into a tight smile then said, “To stay here. My sister told me that my mother would take me back in a year.”

“That’s the punishment?” Harry chuckled. “Make you stay in this world where a handsome man takes care of you and buys you stuff?” Maybe siren mums weren’t as bad as he’d thought.

“And also bullies me 24/7,” Ezi said.

“Hey!” Harry put up his hands. “You bully me, too.”

“You literally told me you didn’t want to see me around the house.”

“Yeah, well, I like seeing you around the house now.”

“Liar,” Ezi said and took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Harry tried not to pay attention to the way she licked the spoon or think about licking ice cream from her lips, but he knew he was going to see a lot of that in his dreams tonight.

“I’m sorry about what I said that night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Ezi held his gaze for two seconds, squinting her eyes. “Fine,” she said at last. “I forgive you.”

“Well, that was easy.”

“For now,” she added, putting the ice cream back into the fridge. “I’ll hate you again when I’m hungry.”

“You’re hungry eighty percent of the time!”

“Yeah.”

Harry chuckled as he watched her amber to the kitchen door. Clenching his fingers, he asked, “When’s your birthday?”

Ezi turned her head. “March 12. Why?”

“So I can say happy birthday to you on March 12.”

“Oh, thanks. Not looking forward to it, though.”

“Also,” Harry said fast before she left. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”

Niall had just reached one million followers on TikTok, so he’d thrown a huge party at his mansion and invited his friends who had brought their friends and their friends’ friends. So the most influential people in the entertainment industry were at the party tonight.

Jeff had suggested that Harry bring Ezi so they could do some PDA stuff at the party to make headlines for the next few days. At first, Harry had planned to make up some excuses so he could go alone.

He and Ezi hadn’t kissed since that day in his mother’s closet. Well, actually, they had had a few pecks on the lips in public, but it’d only been for the paparazzi. It was hard to think about romance when there were at least ten cameras pointing at you.

Their first kiss, however, had been real and…hot. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know how Ezi felt since she never talked about it, but he had the impression that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. He couldn’t stop thinking about her flushed cheeks and plum lips as she pulled back, confused yet wanting more. In his dreams last night, they had been in that closet, but their clothes had been discarded, and he’d been pounding her against the wall. It was so hot. He’d had to wank twice when he woke up and he couldn’t make eye contact with Ezi in the kitchen during breakfast. Now he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.

“Harry.”

Harry jumped when his name was called. Ezi gave him a questioning look. She was wearing a little pink strap dress and her hair was in a high bun. She looked so cute tonight; his stylist had done a great job.

“You okay?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his. He knew it didn’t mean anything and she was only doing what Jeff had told her to. But he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from acting up. “It seemed like your soul left your body for a second.”

“Sorry, this loud music gives me a headache,” he said and finished his glass of wine. Ezi didn’t drink. “You wanna dance?”

Her gaze shot up in surprise. “Do you wanna dance?”

“What do you mean? I’m a fantastic dance partner.”

“But I’ve never danced before. I just got these legs a few weeks ago.”

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be good at it, I’m sure. We’ll wait for a slow song.”

Niall walked by just in time to overhear the conversation, so he shouted, “Slow song for my besties Harry and Ezili!”

Harry tried to stop Niall, but it was too late. Everyone in Niall’s living room was staring at him and Ezi. Jeff would be happy about this, but Harry didn’t think Ezi was. Her fingers tightened around his as she stepped closer, apparently uncomfortable with the intrusive glances they were receiving.

“Come on,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll show them how great we are.”

“But I’m not—”

He didn’t let her finish and drag her out on the dance floor. There were a few couples slow-dancing around them, but Harry knew he and Ezi were the attention of tonight. In these people’s eyes, they were in love, completely infatuated with each other.

“Follow my lead,” he whispered in Ezi's ear while fixing her posture. “It’s easy.”

For a human who had been to too many of these dances, it was. But Ezi was barely good at walking. And so she ended up stepping on his feet repeatedly. The giggles of some women in the room made her even more anxious, so she almost stopped. But he reassured her by pulling her closer and lifting her chin so she was looking at him instead of them.

“Don’t be nervous. This is your little mermaid moment. Embrace it,” he said, making her smile.

“Ariel was a terrible dancer.”

“True. But she looked pretty stepping on the Prince’s feet.”

Ezi arched an eyebrow, amused. “Are you calling yourself the Prince?”

“I almost got casted for the role of Eric, by the way.”

“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.

He acted offended. “No, it’s real.”

“As real as Santa Claus.”

“Santa Claus is real,” Harry argued. “Not you saying he isn’t when you’re literally a mythical creature.”

“Shut up,” she chuckled.

“Make me,” he replied.

Harry didn’t know who had initiated it. Maybe they had both leaned in at the same time. But this time as they shared a kiss in a crowded room, it felt like they were all alone in his mother’s closet once again. Of course he had to keep his hands respectfully on her lower back, but the kiss was still hot. He could feel himself being unravelled right there on the dance floor, and he liked the way her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his neck as they melted into one. But then people had to ruin the moment for them by filming it. Jeff would be happy; Harry wasn’t.

He had developed a special talent over the years as a celebrity and could always sense when someone was taking pictures of him. It made him uneasy and distracted, so he had to pull back. He supposed his twisted expression might have given Ezi the wrong idea. She thought it was her that made him uncomfortable. And for some stupid reason, Harry let her think that.

They left the party early because Ezi didn’t seem to enjoy it anymore. On the drive home, Harry tried to find a way to apologise for ruining the moment, but he didn’t know how to not make it awkward. She didn’t say a single word to him in the car, and he knew she wasn’t going to unless he started the conversation. But then he didn’t. And so she went to bed angry at him.

Harry felt really bad about it. He knew it wouldn’t be this way if he had communicated like a normal human being. But it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d enjoyed kissing her, and he would’ve made out with her in front of all those people had it not been for who he was. He had wanted that moment to be real, but then he remembered it wasn’t, and he felt like he was taking advantage of her.

Maybe she felt that way, too. He wasn’t sure. Or she was just tired and didn’t really care about the kiss, and he was the one making a fuss out of it because he assumed he meant more to her than he really did. Again, Dawson could’ve lied. Ezi might not even have feelings for him. She might think he was a bad kisser even.

As Harry fell asleep that night, he dreamed about her again. They were alone in Niall’s mansion. The music was playing as they slow-danced but nobody was watching. She started kissing him, and he kissed her back. His hands reached around her to unzip her little pink dress and let it pool around her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was rock hard when they went in for more kissing. Her tongue slid between his lips, her hands reaching for his belt as he fumbled on the buttons of his own shirt. Then he woke up with a tent on his crotch. It was three in the fucking morning, and he was having the worst erection in his life.

Harry slipped his hand under the duvet and started playing with it to relieve some tension, but just as he was about to cum, he heard a loud crash downstairs. Instant boner killer.

“Ezi!” he shouted in frustration, slipped on his boxers and marched out of the room.

“I’m sorry!” Ezi’s voice echoed from downstairs. Harry groaned and headed down to the kitchen where he found her collecting broken pieces of a vase she’d knocked over.

“Just leave it,” he said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up and away from the glass. “You’d hurt yourself, idiot.”

“I’m sorry. It was dark. I couldn’t see.”

“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”

She shrugged, which made him laugh, because that was very Ezi of her. “You’re a dumbass,” he said.

“I’m not,” she pouted.

“You are. This only happens to dumbasses.”

“Gosh, you’re an asshole,” she mumbled, arms crossed. She was standing with her back to the counter, and he was blocking her way from the door. Of course she could always sidestep him to leave, but instead, she stayed there, just awkwardly chewing on her nail. She was wearing nothing but a loose white shirt of his. And this time, Harry wasn’t complaining.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.

“I’m not even looking at you,” he said, yet staring right at her face.

“You are.”

“How would you know? Unless you’re also looking at me.”

“This is stupid.”

“You’re stupid.”

“No, you—” Ezi’s voice cut off; her gaze dropped to his mouth as if she hadn’t realised how close they were until now. Harry knew that look so well, and usually it would be a sign for him to make a move. But this was Ezi.

“I should go back to bed,” she said, eyes meeting his again.

He nodded, but didn’t get out of the way.

Again, he didn’t know who leaned in first. The moment their mouths collided, all his thoughts evaporated; his walls crumbled, and he was powerless, unable to pull back. There was a kind of power in the way she kissed that he could not resist. He was all hers.

He tightened his arms around her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto the counter. He could feel his erection growing again in his pants. It didn’t take too long for it to turn fully hard, and she obviously felt it, so she pulled back from their kiss, panting. “It’s…”

“Ignore it,” he breathed, kissing her again, making his way down to her neck and chest. She was squirming now, and he wondered if she was also feeling things down there. “Are you wet?” he asked breathlessly against her lips.

She blinked, confused. “No, I’m dry.”

“No, Ezi,” Harry chuckled, face buried in her neck. “I mean, are you wet between your legs?”

“Oh.” She licked her perfect lips and nodded once. “Yeah. Like most of the time.”

Harry’s whole body went stiff. “What?”

“Like...whenever I think of us kissing,” Ezi admitted innocently.

Harry didn’t know which was hotter. The fact that they were both half-naked and horny right now, or the fact that she got turned on just from thinking of kissing him.

“What do you usually do when it happens?” he asked, adding soft kisses to her lips.

Her fists tightened on his back, her eyelids fluttering. “I r-rub my thighs together.”

Harry smiled as his cock twitched to the thought of it. “Does that feel good?”

Ezi nodded.

“Want me to help you feel even better?”

“You can?”

Harry nodded. He knew it wasn’t right to have sex with her when she didn’t even know what it was, so he wouldn’t rush it. He was just going to help her.

He kissed her once more and got down on his knees between her legs. She looked so hot all spread out in front of him with just his shirt and panties on. She wasn’t lying when she said she was wet. Her panties were completely soaked as he slid them off. She shivered a little yet didn’t protest. She wanted him to help.

He started by kissing her inner thigh. She had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He could just cum to the thought of licking her, and he swore he almost did when he took the first try. Her hips jolted, and he glanced up to meet her confused stare.

“If you want me to stop, just say it, okay?”

“Okay,” she replied, biting her nail.

He held her eye contact as he started licking. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in those dreams. He still couldn’t believe this was real, but god, the sounds she made sent him to heaven. He dipped his tongue into her and her hands flew to the back of his neck. For a moment she forgot everything and started moving her hips against his face. Fuck. It turned him on so much. He slipped his hand into his boxers and gave himself a few strokes. Then she started to moan, and he worked his hand faster while flicking his tongue into her. He fucked himself until she cummed and made a mess inside his pants, cum dripping onto the floor.

“Is that milk?” Her question got him cackling as he got back to his feet, holding onto the counter on either side of her so he wouldn’t fall. He had never cummed so much; it had literally drained him out.

“No, it’s not milk,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked so fucked out as well, which made him feel so proud. “Did you like that?”

“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you?”

“Very much,” he said. “I would kiss you again if I hadn’t just eaten you out. Not sure how you’d like it.”

A look of horror crossed Ezi’s face as she quickly checked between her legs.

“No!” Harry laughed. “I didn’t literally eat you. It’s what it’s called.”

“Oh.”

“Dummy.”

“Is it like...sex stuff?”

“Not really sex, just part of the sex. So yeah, sex stuff,” Harry explained, not sure how to feel about this situation. Now that post-nut clarity had hit, he started to feel a bit guilty, but it didn’t he wasn’t proud of himself for making her cum so hard her legs were shaking.

“I still want to kiss, though,” Ezi said shyly. “I don’t care.”

“Oh, yeah?” Harry smiled. He liked seeing her blush because of him.

With a nod, she pulled him back in.

#harry styles #harry styles smut #harry smut #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x mc #harry styles fic rec #harry styles dirty fanfiction

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httpjeon · 4 years

Text

FISH ARE FRIENDS — KTH (M.)

synopsis. after moving to the seaside, there is a dreadful storm. when all is clear, a man washes up on shore...only he isn’t quite human.

pairing. taehyung/reader genre. angst, smut, fluff au. hybrid!au wordcount. 10,605 contents. seahorse hybrid!taehyung, possessiveness, mating kink, lots of kissing, fingering, size kink, taes big dick as usual, cunnilingus, slight pain kink, multiple orgasms, squirting, overstimulation, blow job, UNEDITED note. this is the result of the fic title game i’ve been playing! thank you to whoever sent in the title ‘fish are friends’

blog masterlist.

You sighed as you dropped the last cardboard box onto the floor with a muffled thud. Placing your hands on your hips, you let out a few deep breaths to allow yourself to relax after moving everything on your own. Looking around, you felt a sense of dread flow through you at the reminder of having to unpack everything as well.

You left your door open, letting the sound of seagulls and ocean waves waft in along with the tangible scent of seasalt. Inhaling, you allowed a smile to drift over your face.

You couldn’t believe that you had actually left the city, after living in it all your life. You felt so light and free, unable to keep the giddy feeling down as you began to unpack the essential things -- your bedding, bathroom sundries, and kitchen utensils so you could eat. Although, as you stood in your sparsely decorated kitchen, you realized you didn’t actually have any food to eat at all. Tossing your head back, you let out a low groan. The sun was already beginning to set so you quickly grabbed your purse and keys, intending to rush to the grocery store before it closed for something to get you through the night and morning.

The town was pretty small, a main grocery store and a few other shops located on a strip. It was the kind of place where everybody knew everyone and when you stepped out of the car, you could feel the eyes on you as people assessed the newcomer. Throwing a few polite smiles, you ducked into the grocery store.

“Welcome!” the nearest cashier waved, a smile on his delicate face.

“Hi,” you greeted softly with a nod as you glanced up at the aisle signs above your head.

Grabbing a basket, you first went to the cereal aisle -- breakfast foods were always your main source of snacking. Going over a mental list in your head, you decided cereal, milk, ramen, break and some lunch meats would suffice until you could do some genuine food shopping.

“Did you find everything okay?” the young man asked as you approached the counter.

“I did, thank you,” you smiled, glancing at his nametag. Jungkook.

“Hey!” someone called from behind you, making you look over your shoulder, “You just moved here right?”

“Um...yeah,” you smiled, holding your hand out, “I’m _____.”

“Jimin!” he beamed, “And that’s Jungkook, a buddy of mine. Everyone here is kind of...friends, you know?”

You nodded, “Yeah, small towns.”

“Your total is $32.50,” Jungkook said, “Hey Jimin.”

You pulled out your wallet to fish your card from the slot before placing it into the chip reader. The two of them chatted a bit about something you weren’t interested in listening to as you put your pin in. The machine dinged with your card approval and Jungkook handed your receipt to you.

“Hey, hang on a minute!” Jimin called before you could walk off.

Turning, you watched him urge Jungkook to scan his item quickly -- a gallon of milk. He paid in cash and quickly rushed after you, taking one of the extra bags from your hands.

“Thanks,” you smiled, leading him towards your car.

“So, where did you move to?” he asked, “I live around the corner from here.”

“Oh, I live over on Pearl Ave,” you said, opening your trunk to place your items in.

“Cool, right on the shore, huh?” he smiled, “Where are you from?”

“I lived in Sunhua,” you replied, “Born and raised.”

“What the hell’d you leave a city for?” he chuckled, slamming your trunk shut for you.

You shrugged, “I finished college so...I just figured a change in scenery would do me good.”

“Really? What’s your major?” he asked, leaning back against your car.

“Hybrid Studies,” you smiled.

He opened his mouth to reply but there was a low rumble from the sky.

The both of you looked up, simultaneously realizing it had gotten much darker with the arrival of storm clouds.

“Shit, I better get home,” he sighed, “Hoseok absolutely hates thunder and if I don’t get home I won’t hear the end of it for 3 months.”

You laughed, waving him goodbye, “It was nice meeting you, Jimin!”

“Ditto!” he grinned, tossing a smile over his shoulder as he began to jog down the sidewalk, milk jug in hand.

By the time you pulled into your driveway, it was beginning to sprinkle. You hurried inside with your belongings -- putting the milk and meat in the refrigerator. Outside, the thunder rumbled a bit louder, signaling the storm getting closer.

Unfortunately, no one had gotten around to hooking up your TV cable or internet so all you had was to sit on your phone until it was a reasonable time to get ready for bed. When you got out of the shower, you could hear the roof being pelted by the downpour of rain. After putting your bedding on, you stopped by the double doors of your bedroom that led to a small balcony. Pulling one open with a small creak, you were greeted with a view of the ocean in the midst of the storm.

The waves crashed angrily against the shore, the sound of the water amplified due to the force of the impact. The sky was pitch blank, the moon and stars obscured by the storm clouds. The only outside light you got with the flashes of lightning that came from within the clouds.

After a particularly loud crack of thunder startled you, you decided to slip back inside, making sure to lock the door in case the wind could throw it open in the night.

When you woke up, it wasn’t to beautiful sunshine. Gray clouds still hung over the sky, pelting the Earth in a light rain drizzle. You sighed and sat up, stretching your muscles.

When you got downstairs, you suddenly realized you never pulled your coffee maker from its box. So, you had to sit there and search through your boxes until you found the one labeled as containing your appliance.

You grumbled listlessly to yourself as you hooked it up and filled the reservoir with water. As you listened to the coffee drip into the carafe, you fixed yourself a bowl of cereal. It was quiet except for the rain and coffee drip.

In the city, the silence would have been filled with the honking of horns and shouts of people on the street which would eventually drive you mad. But here, now, it was peaceful and serene.

By the time you finished your cereal, the coffee was ready and you xoed yourself a cup before making your way to the door, pushing it open before closing it with just the screen door to allow the air to drift through your house.

Taking a seat on the little chair you’d placed in the corner with a small glass table, you relaxed. You took a couple sips of coffee before looking out across the beach, squinting against the rain.

However, you paused when you saw a dark form across the shore. The angry waves crashed against it, pushing it across the sand.

Standing up, you hopped down the stairs and into the rain, uncaring of how cold it was against your skin. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone else standing outside.

The waves crashed forward again and the thing on the shore rolled, making you gasp. It was definitely human.

Running forward, you winced at how sharp the rain felt against your skin. The sand was coarse beneath your feet but you didn’t take notice of it.

Coming to a stop, you knelt beside the person; a man.

Well, sort of.

“What the…” you whispered, taking a good look at him.

He was completely naked, thankfully face down in the sand. He had a small fin on the center of his back, lying limply as it stuck to his skin. On the exterior length of his arms and legs he had little spines that protruded from his skin. Rolling him over, you avoided looking down as you assessed him for any injury.

Cupping his face, you hissed at how cold his skin was. Moving his bangs aside revealed a small cut across his forehead that was still steadily seeping blood. Leaning down, you pressed your ear to his chest, quickly detecting a heartbeat.

Sighing in relief, you desperately looked around in hopes of finding something to help you. The rain was beginning to come down harder and thunder rumbled above, making you curse. You were already thoroughly soaked from the waves crashing against you. They only began to get more violent, however, easily knocking you down and jostling his limp body.

“Sorry about this,” you whispered to the unconscious hybrid as you slid your hands under his armpits to haul him up the beach towards your house.

By the time you reached the shelter of your patio, it was a full on downpour once again. The hybrid was still limp, deadweight.

You didn’t care about your carpet getting wet as you laid him down, rushing to your bathroom closet to fetch a couple towels. When you returned, you set to drying him off, frowning as you watched goosebumps rise over his skin from the chill he no doubt felt.

You pulled a throw blanket you had on the back of the couch down to toss over him.

The next thing you needed to do was tend to that wound on his head. You knew you had a first aid kit around, it took some rifling through boxes to locate it.

The poor hybrid was still out cold and you were beginning to worry about how much damage had really been done beyond a cut. You’d have to see if the town had a hybrid doctor located somewhere.

You set to cleaning the wound, getting the sand and debri out of it before applying ointment to promote healing. Since it was across his head, a bandaid wouldn’t work so you settled for some gauze and a bandage wrapped around his head to keep it in place.

Sighing, you sat back, resting against the wall as you stared down at him.

A marine hybrid. You couldn’t believe you had a marine hybrid in your house.

They were the rarest species of hybrid -- virtually impossible to find although they were being seen as pets as time passed. Illegal hunting and capturing as people grew increasingly interested in owning an ‘exotic’, ‘rare’ hybrid.

Just having him in your home was a crime and you prayed that none of your neighbors were nosy and watched you drag a body into your house.

The best you could guess was that he was a seahorse hybrid judging by the little horns in his hair and the little fins on his temples that were otherwise obscured by his hair.

You stood up, wincing as your knees cracked from sitting on the floor for too long. Walking quietly, you grabbed your phone and looked up a hybrid doctor nearby.

Much to your dismay, the town did not have one and the nearest was over an hour away. Sighing, you stepped back out onto the porch to grab your coffee cup.

You kept peeking around the wall to check if the hybrid was still there as you fixed yourself another cup.

It was just a little past noon by now and you were already exhausted. Taking a seat on the couch, you began to google information about seahorse hybrid. Your major was Hybrid Studies but unfortunately you’d focused on ecological side of domesticated hybrids. You knew virtually nothing about marine hybrids beyond being able to identify them.

As expected, there was very little resources available on seahorse hybrids. All you could find was that they were fragile species and exceptionally terrible swimmers but still preferred to be near water although they survived just fine outside it. There were 45 subspecies of seahorse, though you had no idea what one the stranger would be.

It continued to rain as the hours passed and eventually you succumbed to boredom and fell asleep.

You were awoken by soft groans, however, shortly after you dozed off. Glancing over, you gasped as you watched the hybrid squirm where he laid, slowly waking up. You dove to the floor, sitting on your knees as you watched his eyes flutter open.

Deep brown irises locked with yours. He inhaled sharply and sat up so fast you fell backwards onto your butt to avoid being hit by him.

“Whoa, hey,” you whispered as he groaned and clutched his head, no doubt hurting himself from moving like that, “You got hurt, washed up on shore.”

He looked at you with a frown on his face, his brows furrowed together as he looked around. He eyed the boxes and the couch, leaning to the side to peer into the doorway of the kitchen before his eyes drifted to the window where rain tapped against the pane.

“This is my house,” you muttered, drawing his attention back to you, “My name is _____,” he didn’t reply but he slowly laid back down and relaxed, “I know the floor isn’t too comfortable, you can move to the couch if you’d like. You were too heavy for me to lift up there on my own.”

He just stared at you, those deep brown eyes fixated on every inch of you. He scanned your face and the length of your body down to your feet, making you feel a bit self-conscious being analyzed. For a moment, you were sure he couldn’t even understand you -- it wasn’t unheard of for hybrids without human contact being unable to understand languages.

But after a second, he stood up, making you avert your eyes as you were reminded of how naked he was. You grabbed the blanket and waited for him to lay down on the couch before placing it over him.

He picked at the material for a second, feeling the texture between his fingers before looking at you, “You were getting a chill so I thought it’d be best you were warm while you were out. I’ll get you a pillow, hang on.”

You could feel his eyes on you as you hurried down the hall to your bedroom. You grabbed a pillow from your bed before running back. He was sitting up when you walked in, gazing out the window but looked at you when he realized you’d returned.

Placing the pillow behind him, you urged him to lie back. He did, a look of utter confusion before quickly smiling when he felt the softness of the pillow behind him. You chuckled and took a seat on the recliner across the coffee table from him.

After a few minutes, he fell back asleep, his bare chest rising and falling rhythmically. He understood you at least, but he didn’t speak. You weren’t sure if he was mute or just didn’t know how to. Standing up, you went to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat.

Humming to yourself, you filled a pot with water intending to make ramen. Spinning on your heel to go to one of the boxes tucked into the kitchen’s corner, you stumbled and gasped. He was standing in the doorway, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders thankfully shielding his nakedness.

“You scared me,” you groaned, continuing to the box.

You knelt down, tugging at the tape to open it but quickly realizing how well wrapped it was. Standing up, you scanned the kitchen to look for your scissors before remembering they were packed away somewhere too.

“Oh man!” you complained, knowing you didn’t have any sharp knives out either.

Wandering into the living room, you zeroed in on the first aid kit you’d left out. Popping it open, you grabbed the little scissors which were inside that you used to cut the bandage. When you entered the kitchen, however, you were surprised to see the hybrid crouched down with the box you were fighting with already open.

“Did you open that for me?” you asked him, watching as he stood up and nodded, “Thank you.”

He gave you a crooked smile and stepped back to let you fish through the box until you pulled out the container you’d put your spices in. Giggling happily to yourself, you returned to your ramen.

The hybrid stayed in the kitchen the entire time, watching you flit about as you cooked until you finally went back to the living room. He followed you, taking a seat on the couch again, simply watching you.

“So…” you mumbled to break up the silence, “Can you not speak or…?” he didn’t reply, making you hum before bringing you bowl closer to take a bite of the ramen you’d cooked. His burning gaze made you pause though, a thought occurring to you, “Are you hungry?”

Immediately he nodded, making you sigh. You had no idea what he ate or what he could eat. He seemed to sense your dilemma and smiled, standing up. Immediately, you averted your eyes, unsure how you’d get used to his nudity.

That made you pause. He was a wild hybrid, the only reason he was there was because he was injured in the storm. Once it cleared up and his head healed, he’d be gone so you didn’t really need to get used to it.

Lost in your thoughts, you missed him moving towards you until his hand wrapped around your wrist.

Surprised, your eyes snapped to his hand -- how big it was and how long and pretty his fingers were. You allowed him to control your movements as he moved your fork to his mouth to take a bite of the ramen you’d made.

He hummed, his eyes closing as he chewed. It was the first sound he’d made -- so he was capable of making sounds at the very least.

“You can just eat human food?” you asked, watching as he nodded, “Do you want me to make you some?”

He nodded and you paused. By the time you cooked his, your would be cold. Standing up, you placed your bowl in his hands, making him frown. He attempted to hand it back to you, apparently not wanting you to give up your food for him. But you shook your head and moved to the kitchen with him hot on your heels.

He whined, making you pause, looking over your shoulder. To your surprise he looked genuinely distressed.

“It’ll get cold while I’m cooking,” you shrugged, “So you eat it while it’s hot and then I’ll eat this one. Get it?”

He was still for a second, gazing down at the ramen before slowly nodding. You chuckled and turn your back to him again to fill the pot with water.

Behind you, the hybrid slowly ate standing in the kitchen with you. By the time you finished cooking, he was finished and standing with his empty bowl.

“Just put it in the sink,” you said, breezing by him to sit on the chair again.

You could hear him clinking around for a second, the water in the sink turning on for a second before shutting off. He walked into the living room, holding his hands in front of him as he walked up to you.

Taking a bite, you watched him hold his hands out to you. Raising a brow, you stared at him. You realized his hands were wet and he moved them closer to you. When you still didn’t understand, he sighed, shaking his head. As you went to take another bite of your ramen, he flicked his fingers and splashed the water all over your face, making you flinch.

“Hey!” you whined, “What’s the big idea? It’s just water I don’t under…” you blinked a few times as your mouth opened in a small ‘O’, “Ohhhhh…” he perked up slightly, “Are you wanting...water then? To drink? Or…?”

He bit his lip and shook his head. You were already tired of trying to communicate with him -- at least he understood you though, you suppose.

“A shower maybe?” you asked, making him cock his head, “Let me finish eating and I’ll show you, okay?”

He nodded and took a seat, waiting ever patiently for you as you ate. When you went to put your bowl in the sink as he had, he followed you. You quickly realized you were now used to seeing him naked -- thank god.

When you turned the water on to rinse out your bowl, he immediately stuck his hand under the water. You laughed, and shook your head. He was actually really cute.

“Alright, c’mon,” you led him down the hall and into the bathroom, flicking the light on quickly. When you sat down on the edge of the tub to drop the bath drain, the bathroom went dark. Turning to look towards the door, you watched as he flicked it back on, watching the light bulb in wonder.

His attention was brought back to you, however, when you turned the water on. Excitedly, he took a seat beside you, watching the water begin to feel. You weren’t quite sure what temperature to make it so you chose lukewarm. Before it was even halfway filled, he was sliding into the tub with a smile on his face.

“I’ll let you be alone,” you said, making him look at you, “Just turn the handle this way to turn it off,” you showed him, “Stop the water before it overfills the tub, though, okay? Do you understand?”

He nodded and you stood there for a second before nodding and turning away from him. You decided to leave the door open, figuring he would prefer to not be closed up in a small room. It wasn’t like he cared of privacy or decency anyway.

While he soaked, you decided to wash the dishes you’d used to cook. It was beginning to get dark now and the rain had stopped for the meantime, the storm no doubt finally moving out. After putting the dishes away, you moved to unpack the box Taehyung had opened for you, placing everything neatly where it needed to be.

Realizing, when you were done, that he still wasn’t out of the bathroom led you to peeking in to check on him. You couldn’t help but smile when you saw him in there sleeping. For a second you were concerned that he could drown before reminding yourself that he was literally a fish hybrid who came from the ocean.

Deciding not to disturb him, you went back to the couch.

You didn’t realize you’d dozed off until you felt someone gently shaking you shoulder. Opening your eyes, you jumped at the sight of the naked hybrid.

“Oh, you’re out,” you hummed, standing up to allow him to sit, “I should probably change your bandage.”

He hummed, sitting back as he watched you pull the materials from the first aid kit before taking a seat on the edge of the table.

Reaching forward, you carefully unraveled the bandage until it fell away before peeling the gauze off. The cut was red, no doubt probably stung with a bruise growing around it. But it wasn’t bleeding at least, so you cleaned it once more before doing exactly what you had before.

While he was awake, he moved a bit more to avoid the little fins on his temples from being jostled. You whispered a soft apology when he winced at the bandage catching the corner of his fin. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled to let you know it was okay.

“Okay, all done,” you smiled, standing back up, “It’s pretty late so I’m going to head bed,” he didn’t say anything but you could feel his eyes burning into you so you tossed a soft, “Goodnight,” over your shoulder.

As you entered the hall, you heard a soft voice mutter something. You froze and turned, looking at the hybrid with wide eyes.

“What? Did you say something?” you asked.

He nodded, smiling, “Taehyung.”

His voice was deep, soft with no edge to it at all. It was like listening to the most gentle voice in the world.

“That’s your name?” you asked, making sure you understood. He nodded and you smiled, “Goodnight Taehyung.”

“Goodnight _______.”

You didn’t know why your heart skipped a beat as he uttered your name.

“Taehyung!” you called through the house as you kicked the door closed behind you. After a second, you heard the back door open and Taehyung’s tall form entered the living room. You smiled in greeting, “This package is for you.”

He looked surprise, walking forward with his arms extended. You deposited to package in his hands and stepped back to watch him examine it.

He’d been there for almost a week now and in that time you’d learned he was very curious. He examined anything and everything, you’d had to stop him several times to keep him from licking something questionable.

After a moment, he moved to place the box on the kitchen counter, pulling the scissors from where they hung on the wall to cut the tape open. You leaned against the wall, arms crossed over your chest as you watched him pull out the contents.

Holding the t-shirt in front of him, he looked curiously at you.

“I know this…” you motioned towards his naked body, “Is something obviously normal for you since you’re a wild hybrid but...it’s getting increasingly weird on my part over having a naked person in my house.”

He stared at you for a second, a frown on his lips and for a second you were afraid you’d offended him. You held in a sigh as he grabbed the box and breezed past you, down the hall.

“Well, so much for that,” you whispered to yourself, grabbing the discarded scissors he’d left on the counter and put them back where they belonged.

“I like it,” Taehyung’s voice made you jump.

You spun around and were pleased to see him fully clothed. Part of you felt bad for forcing something human on him like that but the way he happily touched the fabric made you smile.

“I chose the softest materials I could find,” you explained. After the first day, you quickly took notice of the way he enjoyed textures -- specifically anything soft.

“I like it,” he repeated.

“I’m glad,” you breathed, “Come on, let me look at your wound.”

He nodded and took a seat on the couch as you took yours on the coffee table. It was practically a routine now. He didn’t even flinch as you pulled the bandage and gauze away.

The cut was practically healed and you sighed. It definitely wasn’t a concern anymore and both of you knew it. Still, neither of you questioned your situation. He didn’t seem to want to leave and you, truthfully, didn’t want him to leave. You enjoyed his company; he was sweet and endearing. He took up your time in the best way and gave you something to look forward to coming home to.

“I think we can leave the bandage off now,” you said, “Just don’t scratch it, even if it itches, okay? If you pull the scab off you’ll have a big old scar across your forehead for the rest of your life.”

He pouted a bit but nodded, taking the discarded bandages to throw away. He returned from the kitchen a second later, a pack of ramen in hand. He handed it over to you, head cocked to the side.

You smiled, “I’m hungry too,” he followed you, as usual, to the kitchen and hovered over you as you began the cooking process, “Oh! By the way, the cable guy is coming by at 3 to hook up internet and stuff.”

He looked confused and you laughed, pointing over to the TV. He’d hovered around it a bit over the last few days, turning it on the watch the static on the screen. As he realized you were doing something with the TV, he lit up and smiled.

As you both sat down to eat, you glanced at the clock. It was 2:40, causing you to hurry up eating so you could move some boxes out of the living room.

The hybrid had been helping a bit set things up for you; lifting heavy objects and boxes. But you still had quite a bit to unpack -- you had to fill a whole house, after all.

By the time you moved the boxes to the spare room, the doorbell went off. Rushing into the living room, you caught sight of Taehyung’s wide eyes.

“Hi, come on in,” you smiled, waving the cable man inside.

“Hello,” he greeted with a polite smile that quickly faded as he looked behind you.

When you turned around, you caught sight of Taehyung booking it out the back door in the kitchen. Shrugging, you closed the front door and led the man to your television.

“It’ll take me about an hour to set everything up securely,” he explained.

You nodded, “Let me know if you need anything.”

As he went to work, you made a beeline for your back porch. Taehyung was sitting on the stairs, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked up when you opened the door and despite the way he’d run away, he appeared calm nonetheless.

“Did you get spooked?” you asked, sitting beside him. He nodded and you hummed, “I take it you haven’t interacted with humans much?”

He shook his head, “I like to watch them.”

“Oh? People watch?” you asked, “Humans like to do that too. When I lived in the city I would go to the park and just watch people go about their business.”

Taehyung could speak and understand very well but his own vocabulary was quite limited. He didn’t say much regardless, mostly spoke to share his opinions. You’d adapted easily, speaking primarily in yes or no format and it was mostly you doing the talking.

He didn’t seem to mind, however. He gave you his full attention regardless, interest gleaming brightly in his eyes.

A question lingered on your lips, one you dreaded asking but as you looked at the smile on his lips, it dissolved on your tongue and you sighed.

The two of you fell silent, sitting together listening to the ocean as you waited for the cable man to finish.

You stood in the kitchen, making dinner as you listened to the laughing on the TV in the living room. Taehyung had immediately been intrigued by the colors and noises from the device and promptly sat on the couch, becoming glued to it. You briefly wondered what the effect of TV would have on a wild hybrid but when you heard him laugh, all worry was wiped free.

When you’d heard him laugh for the first time, at some cartoon that came on, you felt your heart skip a beat. It was melodic and delicate, almost a giggle, really.

Not wanting to disturb him, you brought the food to him.

“Thank you,” he beamed, waiting for you to sit beside him before beginning to eat.

You smiled, sitting there watching him for a second before picking up your own plate. The way he enjoyed things so organically was charming, it made you see things as if they were new as well.

As the days passed, you noticed a change in the hybrid. He began to talk more, question things and seek out a conversation with you -- which he’d never done before. Sometimes at night, you could hear the TV on at night, the sound carrying through the walls.

One such night, you awoke in the middle of the night with a dry mouth and desire for water. Climbing out of bed, you grabbed your bathrobe and put it on, messily tying the belt to hold it closed. Your door creaked quietly as you opened it, allowing the TV’s low volume to be heard much easier from the stairwell.

Wandering into the living room, you paused to look at Taehyung.

He was sitting on his knees on the floor, close to the TV. You opened your mouth to tell him he shouldn’t sit so close when you realized he was muttering to himself.

Moving closer, you glanced at the screen to see an infomercial was playing. And he was repeating the things they were saying.

“Taehyung, what are you doing?” you asked, fighting back a smile when his head whipped around to look at you.

His eyes were wide and he looked almost guilty as he moved back from the TV, “W-Watching the…” he motioned to the television with a shrug.

“You were talking along,” you pointed out, a brow raised curiously.

He bit his lip and folded his legs in front of him, “When they talk...I learn new words.”

His words bounced around your head for a second before you chuckled, “Is that how you’ve gotten so good at speaking? You’re learning from watching infomercials at night?”

“Cartoons during the day,” he added with a sheepish grin, “Why are you up?”

You knew he was changing the subject to avoid the conversation but you went along with it, “I’m thirsty is all.”

He hummed and it fell quiet, his eyes flicking back to the TV for a second before going to you once more. You sensed he was wanting to get back to what he was doing so you bid him a soft goodnight before moving to the kitchen.

When you were passing through to the hallway, you saw that he was sitting in front of the TV muttering again.

The morning came and you were surprised to find yourself awake before Taehyung. He was usually an early riser, up before the sun was even fully out.

You frowned at the sight of him curled up, knees tucked to his chest as he snuggled into the blanket. He looked cold but it wasn’t like the temperature dipped very low -- you’d slept with your balcony door cracked.

Seeing him lay there, you noticed how he was almost falling off the couch. Sighing you reached over and shook his shoulder until his eyes fluttered open.

“Hey sleepyhead,” you smiled, heart melting at the tired smile he gave you as he sat up and stretched, “How late were up last night?”

He shrugged and sighed, swinging his feet onto the floor before padding to the bathroom. You hummed and decided to start a pot of coffee for the day.

Pulling out your phone, you pulled up google and decided to search for a bed. You had a spare bedroom you were currently using to store the boxed you hadn’t bothered to unpack yet. It wouldn’t hurt to get a bed put in so you could have guests over.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

“Hey, Taehyung?” you called when you heard him flick the TV on.

“Yeah?” he immediately responded, poking his head into the kitchen.

“I’ve been thinking,” he frowned and fully stepped into the kitchen, “Instead of sleeping on the couch, how about you take the spare bedroom?”

“Really?” he gasped.

“Yeah,” you hummed, “There’s a mattress shop in town, I can pick you up some stuff.”

“I can’t go with you?” he deflated slightly, making your heart ache.

You sighed, looking at your feet, “N-No...I think it’s best you stay here,” he opened his mouth to say something else but you cut him off, “You can help me assemble everything, though! And I’ll need your help to carry the mattress.”

He grinned once again and nodded, “Okay!”

While you were in town, you stopped by the grocery store to get more food and ingredients to cook with. With Taehyung there, you ran out of food a bit quicker than if it were just you.

Jungkook was there and greeted you with a bright smile as he rang you up, commenting how he hadn’t seen you around much. You blew it off with a quick shrug and explanation that you got internet and cable set up now so you had no reason to leave the house.

Pulling up to your house, you got out and popped the trunk. As you began to pull groceries from the back, the front door opened. Taehyung came bouncing down the stairs with a little grin on his face.

“So, where is it?” he asked excitedly.

“Oh, the guy was right behind me,” you said, “He’ll drop everything off.”

“Here, I’ll take these,” he said, grabbing the three bags you were holding before you could argue, “You got more ramen!”

“Of course,” you laughed, following him inside with the last two bags in your hands, “It’s your favorite right?”

“Yep!” he chirped happily from the kitchen.

The two of you go inside where you ask Taehyung to boil a pot of water and cook some ramen. He wasn’t quite good enough to be able to cook it correctly but you would be back inside before it was ready, anyway. Just as he began to fill the pot, you heard a horn beep from outside.

Taehyung gave you an excited grin and you chuckled before going to the porch.

“You sure you don’t need any help assembling this?” the man asked, a brow raised.

“No, I have a h…” you paused and cleared your throat, “A friend willing to help!”

“Alright,” he smiled kindly and tipped the brim of his hat before moving back to his truck, “Have a nice day!”

“You too!” you waved and sighed, eyes falling to the large box and plastic-wrapped mattress that now sat against your porch railing.

You pushed the door open and poked your head in, calling the hybrid's name. His feet thump against the floor as he runs toward the sound of your voice.

"Yes?" he asked, eyes wide.

"The bed is here," a smile blooms across his face and he excitedly nods his head.

"Come help me finish cooking so we can do it!" he turns his back to you and scampers back to the kitchen.

You chuckle and step inside, deciding to leave the door open. Taehyung was incredibly eager to get things started so the second his ramen was done, he was scarfing it down like a man starved.

"You're going to burn your tongue!" you chastised.

"Too late!" he whined, sticking his tongue out with furrowed brows. It didn't stop him though because a second later he was shoveling another bite into his mouth.

"Are you ready?" you ask, watching with an amused smile as he dumped his bowl into the sink and raced to the open door. You followed behind him only to stop when you caught him staring at the open door, "What is it?"

"You shouldn't leave the door open like this," he said, voice level to show how serious he was. He looked over his shoulder with a frown, your own face a mask of confusion, "It's dangerous."

You opened your mouth to respond but before you could, he was running down the porch steps to the mattress.

It took almost an hour for the two of you to get everything up the stairs into the spare bedroom. With the mattress leaning against the wall, the two of you sat on the floor reading the instructions of assembly for the bed frame.

"God I am beat," you complained, watching Taehyung twist the screw in like you had showed him.

His hair hung in his face, a little damp from sweating. His bottom lip was trapped between his teeth and his brows were furrowed in concentration.

"Yep," he hummed, sitting back with a sigh. He dropped the screwdriver on the floor and fell silent.

"Now we have to put the mattress on the frame," you chuckled at the tired groan he let out.

He stood up and held his hand out, helping you stand up as well. Then, with exhausted determination the two of you finally dropped the mattress down into its rightful place.

"What's next?" he asked with a sigh as he finally took a relaxed seat on the couch.

"Well, we need to get sheets and stuff for the bed," you said, pulling out your phone.

As you typed into the search engine, you felt a hand on your hip. You look down, finding Taehyung was urging you towards him.

You were suddenly pulled into his lap, making you gasp in surprise. Your cheeks immediately heated up, feeling his strong chest against your back with his arms around your body, holding you.

Doing your best to ignore the position, despite your racing heart, you allowed him to look over your shoulder to locate bedding he liked.

"I saw this on TV," he spoke suddenly, voice deep and oh-so close to your ear.

"Wh-What's that?" you whispered, hoping he didn't notice the tremble in your voice.

"Sitting like this," he replied, reaching forward to click a link on your screen, "The guy held her like this."

"You shouldn't be watching things like that, Tae," you joked.

"What things?" he asked, making you chuckle, shaking your head as you dismissed him. Before he could question more, you brought his attention back to the sheets he was looking at.

That night, after bidding the hybrid goodnight, you sat in bed gazing out the window at the beach below.

You truly couldn't believe there was a wild seahorse hybrid sleeping just down the hall. If someone had told you that there would be one living with you not too long ago, you would have laughed in their face.

You never thought you'd be a person who illegally kept a wild hybrid. But it wasn't like he didn't want to be there.

Right?

You shook all thoughts of him from your head and closed your curtains, basking the room in darkness.

One morning, you're woken up by a loud thump. You sigh, staring up at the ceiling as you listen to the hybrid bumble around downstairs.

He'd been there for over a month and had grown increasingly comfortable living in the house. Sitting up, you stretched and threw on a robe before descending down the stairs.

He was in the kitchen, as you expected. His back was to you but there was something off about him.

His body was stiff and his jaw was clenched tight. With a frown marring his face, you grew concerned. It was clear he wasn't in a good mood.

"Taehyung?" you called, watching him freeze for a second before resuming what he was doing, "Is everything okay?"

"Yes," he mumbled, voice flat.

You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning against the wall as you watched him crack an egg into the pan. It sizzled, filling the tense silence.

Neither of you said anything, although you had a lot on the tip of your tongue. You simply watched as he prepared his breakfast on a plate which he promptly deposited on the kitchen table.

He avoided your gaze, grumpily glaring at his plate as he silently ate. You sighed and he tensed again but didn't say anything.

"Taehyung," you breathe, taking a seat across from him, "You can't ignore me forever," he remains silent, "Talk to me...what happened?"

In the silence of the kitchen, he slams his fist down. You jump and look at him with wide eyes. His gaze is fiery, and he bares his teeth in anger before squinting a glare towards you. You can't help but cower away when he suddenly stands up.

"What happened?" he tosses his head and lets out a humorless laugh, "Seriously, what? Did you think I wouldn't find out, hm?"

"Find out what?" you gasp, realizing his anger was directed at you.

"Everything!" he snaps, shaking his head as he makes his way to the back door. You get up and follow after him quickly, "I learned everything about you! I-I can't believe I was almost tricked into--" he cuts himself off and runs down the stairs.

You chase after him, your feet meeting the cold sand as you follow him, calling his name, "What are you talking about?! I don't understand, Taehyung!"

He doesn't offer anything more and you let out a frustrated groan. You stumble, however, you watch him begin to shed his clothes the closer he gets to the shore.

"Taehyung?!" you cry in horror as he steps foot into the ocean. He looks at you over his shoulder and the look of disgust in his eyes makes you falter. In that second of hesitation, he disappeared beneath the surface.

You gasped and stopped at the waters edge, desperately looking over the dark surface.

"Tae..." you whispered, realizing he was gone.

You stand there, waiting, for what feels like forever. The temperature drops and you begin to shiver. Backing away from the shore, you begin to collect the articles of clothing he'd discarded which have long since lost the heat of his body.

Stepping inside, you let out a soft sigh and place the items on top of the driver.

The sun vanished beneath the horizon and the house was dark and silent. You were filled with empty lonliness as you went to bed, passing by his room to take a small peek even though you knew it was going to be empty.

You don't sleep well that night, your mind plagued with thoughts of the hybrid. Every time you shut your eyes, you would wake up with the hope that he would be back by morning.

When you got up, nice and early like he usually does, it was to an empty house. There was no Taehyung sitting on the couch or in the kitchen. It was just you.

He isn't back the next day either...or the next...or the next.

Eventually, you gave up on hoping to see him when the sun rose. You grew accustomed to the habitual silence -- though you didn't like it.

His bedroom was left untouched, the bed sloppily made with the blanket uneven as Taehyung didn't bother getting it quite right before going about his day. The house seemed so big without another party occupying it.

Eventually, you couldn't stand being in the house all the time by yourself. So, you started exploring the town -- which you hadn't bothered doing before.

On one afternoon, you ventured into a little comic book shop where you stumbled upon the familiar faces of Jungkook and Jimin. They were more than excited to see you; gushing about how it had been so long. They were a funny, charming pair who eagerly took it upon themselves to subject you to a day of touring the town.

You discover there was a little bar near the edge of town that most of the young adults frequented. A friend of Jimin and Jungkook's, Namjoon, owned it and allowed friends free drinks.

It was one such night that began with drinking among your new friends that ended with a drunk Jimin crashing on Taehyung's bed. He hadn't bothered getting under the blankets, passing out face down on the mattress with his feet dangling off the end of the bed.

You shut the door, leaving him to sober up overnight on his own.

While the outside company was lovely, kept you occupied and happy outside of the house, when you came home to the empty house you felt the liveliness dissipate.

It was an offhand comment from Yoongi where he expressed living in such a big house must be lonely -- advising you should get a pet or something. The idea bloomed into you begging Jungkook to take you to the pet store in town on his day off.

He was a bit hungover but still agreed after listening to you pester him about how lonely you were.

That led you to getting the sweet little black cat you promptly named Tux.

It felt wonderful to walk into your house after spending a day with your friends to greet someone -- even if he couldn't greet you back beyond a meow and rubbing up against your legs. He began to sleep in your bed, letting you curl around him as he purred himself to sleep.

Never in your life would you expect to be awoken in the middle of the night by your bedroom door slamming open. You bolted straight up in bed, eyes wide as you could vaguely make out the figure of a person standing there.

Your heart began to race in your chest, the sound of your blood pumping as adrenaline flowed through your body. Two seconds felt like hours before you finally scrambled out of bed. With him blocking the doorway, you could only run to the balcony.

As you threw the door open, you screamed when a strong arm wrapped around your waist and lifted you up.

"Calm down!" a familiar voice snapped, immediately halting your thrashing.

"T-Taehyung?" you panted, your feet meeting the floor as he finally put you back down.

"Who else?" he asked, voice flat.

You could barely make him out in the dark but you relaxed significantly as the relief caught up to you, "You can't do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack! I thought you were a burglar or something--"

"Why do I smell another man in my bed?" he cut you off, not caring for the panic he had caused you.

"Huh?" you responded, running a hand through your hair as you skirted past him to flick the lamp on beside your bed.

"I went to my bed," he began, stepping closer to you, "And it smells like another man. Why?"

You huffed a laugh, shrugging your shoulders, "A friend crashed there like a week ago, why?"

"Why?" he scoffed, stopping when he was right in front of you. Your heart skipped a beat when he leaned down, his nose almost brushing yours, "Because there shouldn't be another man in my bed."

His voice was dark, sending shivers down your spine, "W-Well, I thought you were gone so I had a friend over! You left a-and what the hell do you think you're doing here anyway?! You can't just show back up like this!"

"Why not?" he asked, cocking his head to the side.

"B-Because it's not okay!" he snapped, reaching up to shove at his shoulders so he would back off. He did, straightening up so you could stand up. You breezed past him in a huff, crossing your arms over your chest, "You just left, yelling at me! For weeks, Taehyung! You can't just come back like nothing happened!"

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "I shouldn't have done that."

"You were blaming me for something you didn't even bother explaining!" you cried, "Tell me what the hell happened."

"I..." he looked sheepish, clearing his throat, "I watched something on TV that talked about human’s treatment of wild marine hybrids. I...I got upset for...well, no good reason. I know you didn't do anything at all. I was the one who wanted to stay -- you helped me and let me stay. I'm sorry, _____."

You sighed, relaxing your shoulders, "That's so stupid, Tae," he nodded his head but didn't say anything, keeping his dark gaze on you, "Alright...go to bed, we'll...figure this out in the morning."

You moved towards your door, motioning for him to get out. As much as you wanted to jump for joy that he was back, you were too tired and, quite frankly, still pissed off. When he didn't make any attempt to leave, you cleared your throat.

He sighed and made his way towards you. Instead of walking out the door however, he wrapped his arm around your waist and kicked the door shut, pinning you against it.

"Tae--" before you could get out the rest of his name, his lips were on yours.

Your words were knocked from you as you found yourself kissing him back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as he gripped your hips. You could feel the heat of his body through the thin, silk fabric of your nightgown.

He growled against your lips, reaching down to grip your thighs to pull you up. You gasped as you were hoisted up against his body and the door, your knees locked around his waist. His nails pinched the sensitive skin of your thighs but you paid it no mind.

"You're mine," he growled, voice barely above a whisper, "No one else can have you."

You didn't get to reply as you were yanked from the door and tossed onto the bed. You squeaked out his name when his weight was suddenly thrust on top of you. He caged you in, resting his weight on his forearms beside your head, keeping you locked in a heated kiss. Your legs were forced to spread around his waist, letting the cool breeze from your cracked window reach the damp material of your panties.

Simply kissing him, feeling his hands on you was enough to make you wet.

"I'm going to mate you, baby," he growled, nipping your bottom lip before suddenly pulling away, "Prove that you're mine."

You nodded, breathless from his kissing. Your heart was racing in your chest and your stomach fluttered with butterflies. He reached down to find the hem of your nightgown where it had bunched against your hips. He pushed it up until you were forced to sit up to allow him to pull it off. He groaned at the sight of your half-naked body.

"You're so pretty," he whispered, leaning down to press a kiss against your breast, "You're never going to look at another man when I'm done with you. I want to be all you think about, all you need...all you want."

You whimpered when his lips wrapped around a perked nipple, lashing the bud with his tongue. You gripped his hair, mindful of the horns hidden within the mess of black hair. He reached between your thighs to find the material of your panties, cupping your heat with a sigh. You were wet, he could feel it soaking through your panties.

"Please, Tae," you whispered, letting your head fall back to expose your neck as he trailed kisses upwards from your breast.

He hummed but didn't supply a response, too preoccupied with your scent. He brushed his nose against the column of your neck, over your artery where he could feel pounding in time with your racing pulse. He nipped at the skin, a promise of leaving a mark before he slipped his hand into your panties.

You cried out as his fingers immediately delved between your folds. He bypassed your clit to find your entrance, a fleeting graze over the sensitive bud making you whine. One long, lithe digit slid into your entrance, drawing mutual sighs from the two of you.

"A-Another," you gasped.

He chuckled and easily added his index finger, giving you that sweet stretch you craved, "You'll have to take more if you want to fit me," he breathed, making your walls clench around his fingers, "I have to stretch you real nice..."

"Fuck," you cursed, eyes rolling back as he curved his fingers to find your g-spot. Your thighs trembled around him at the fleeting stimulation before he suddenly withdrew, sliding off the bed.

You watched his shed his shirt, a long sleeved t-shirt you'd tossed on his bed shortly after he left when you found it mixed in with your laundry. His body was lean and built from swimming and you could see his biceps flex as he pushed his sweatpants down.

Left in just his underwear, you could see his cock through the thin material -- just as big as you'd hoped. It would definitely give you that painful burn you needed.

Stepping forward once again, he hooked his fingers into the hem of your panties and pulled them down. You raised your hips to allow him to pull them completely free. Once they were off your ankles, he tossed them to the side.

You felt yourself grow even wetter at being exposed completely beneath him. He gripped your knees and pinned your legs open. You whined, clenching around nothing as he gazed at your wet folds.

Moving his gaze back to your face, he lowered himself to the floor until he was level with your pussy. He tightening his grip on your legs so you couldn't close them and leaned forward, sliding his tongue through your folds, making you gasp.

He grazed over your clit, your hips jumping in response to the sudden stimulation. You let your head fall back against the bed, letting him eat your cunt as he pleased. Opening his mouth as wide as he could, he wrapped his lips around your cunt. Your eyes rolled back as he sucked, the wet sounds of your juices only serving to turn you on more.

His tongue found your entrance, licking at your slit before pushing his tongue inside. You gasped, grappling at his hair for purchase.

He doubled back to your clit again, suckling on the bud as he introduced his fingers. He slid three in at once, drawing a moan from you.

The stimulation to your sweet spot and your clit had you hurdling towards release quickly. He fucked you with his fingers, feeling you clench around them as he worked your clit with his tongue. Your bud was swollen and sensitive, eager for release that he was more than willing to provide. He could taste how much sweeter your juices got the closer you grew until suddenly your body froze.

A long, high pitched moan left your lips as you came -- spasming around his long fingers as he diligently worked you through your high. You gushed around his fingers but he didn't case, continuing to fuck you with those digits until your juices were dripping down to his wrist.

It wasn't long before you were pushing him off, needing a breather from the stimulation. He pulled away, watching you close your thighs as you trembled through the last remnants of overstimulation.

You were so wet, the insides of your thighs coated with your cum and his saliva from where his mouth watered from your enchanting taste.

As you recovered, he stood up and shed himself of his final layer -- his boxers. He was finally completely bare to you and you couldn't help but sit up. He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock, giving himself a few good strokes to ease the arousal that had painfully built.

You shifted to sit on your knees, licking your lips as you reached out to wrap your own hand around him. His lashes fluttered as he released his own hold to wrap his fingers around your wrist. He was hard and hot, throbbing in your hand as his tip drooled precum. Your mouth suddenly felt dry and you had the urge to taste him.

Glancing up, you saw he had let his head fall back, losing himself in your touch. Leaning forward, you wrapped your lips around the tip of him. He hissed, eyes flying open as he snapped his head down to look at you. His teeth were clenched and you felt more precum drip onto your tongue and you whined.

He suddenly wrapped his hand in your hair and pulled your back, making you gasp.

"Lay back," he ordered and you hurriedly, scooted back until you laid comfortable in the pillows.

He crawled onto the bed and gripped beneath your knees, forcing your legs open . You bit your lip as your cheeks burned when he spread you obscenely open with your knees up to your ears.

Your cunt was spread open, vulnerable as his cock prodded your entrance. He met your gaze for a split second, waiting for you to stop him. When you didn't he buried himself into your tight heat in one swift stroke.

It burned and ached just as you thought it would; it was amazing.

"Go, please, fuck me," you begging when he paused, intending to let you adjust.

You wrapped your own arms around your legs, keeping yourself spread as he wanted. The sounds that emitted as he began to fuck you were lewd; the wet sound of your juices around his intruding cock and the sound your skin meeting every time he sunk into you.

You were still sensitive from your first orgasm that when he hit your sweet spot, it caused a tingle to run down your spine to your toes. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan; he was forcing you higher and higher onto your peak but you couldn't fall over. Without stimulation to your clit, you felt you would never cum.

However, when he dropped his body over you, meeting your lips in a heated kiss, you finally found release. He groaned as you tightened suddenly around him, trembling and latching onto him as you came around his cock.

He didn't slow, however, reaching down to find your clit. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as your orgasm was pushed higher and higher. You weren't able to come down, being forced to new heights until you were suddenly soaked in your juices.

Taehyung gasped, sitting back on his heels, keeping your thighs pinned open as you squirted around him -- soaking the bed beneath you, his thighs and your own. You whined, pushing him back so his cock finally popped free and you were left you stuttered, trembling mess.

He gave you a second until your body relaxed a bit before he pushed his cock back into you. You whimpered, eyes rolling back as he gave several more thrusts, sinking balls deep into you before he came.

His cum was hot as it filled you up and he let out soft whimpers of pleasure before finally pulling away.

Neither of you said or did anything beside shuffle to lay close together. He wrapped his arms around you and tucked you close against his chest, kissing the top of your head.

"There's something...you should probably know," he suddenly said, voice a little hoarse. You hummed, glancing up to look at him as he continued, "My kind...seahorses...we kind of...mate for life."

"Do you?" you raised a brow, feeling the inklings of exhaustion begin to prick at you.

"Mhm," he cleared his throat, "And I really am...sorry for leaving the way I did. I hope that you'll keep me around because now...you're it for me, _____."

You sat up and smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips.

There was a soft scuffling noise from outside your door, making Taehyung jump. You sighed and pulled away from him, despite how he tried to keep you from going.

"What is it?" he asked, frowning.

"It's Tux," you mumbled, opening the door.

The cat ran in, taking a running leap onto the bed. As you closed the door, you heard a loud thump. Turning around, you found Taehyung on the floor, the sheet tangled around his legs.

"It's a cat!" he cried, pointing an accusatory finger at the cat who sat on your pillow licking his paw.

"Yes..." you mumbled, bending down to pick up your nightgown.

"Cats eat fish!" Taehyung whined.

You rolled your eyes, sliding your nightgown on, ignoring the slickness of his cum seeping down your thighs.

"Taehyung," you sighed, grabbing his arm to pull him up, "I promise Tux will not be able to eat you."

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absolute-flaming-trash-archive · 3 years

Text

Hurt - Part 2

Was not expecting that many people wanting a part 2, but who am I to deny y'all?

Trick question, I myself am insatiable

Pairing: Hisoka x Fem!Reader

Smut and Angst

Word Count: 4′645 This was supposed to be short

Warnings: NSFW, Dubcon (bordering on Noncon), Unprotected Sex, Blood, Hisoka being a cheeky little shit. Semi-edited.

I’m gonna use this opportunity to say that, even if your partner doesn’t outright say “no”, that is NOT consent. Unfinished sentences, hesitation, and no response at all does not mean “yes”. Always check in for consent.

That being said, enjoy my fellow Hisoka fuckers. I loved writing this and I will actually cry if this flops.

Part 1, Part 3

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

The silence that filled the room was palpable, interrupted only by the rhythmic drips of water falling from the cloth into the bowl.

Hisoka had yet to release his hold on you, making you narrow your eyes in annoyance. He licked his lips as he stared down at you, enjoying the direct line of sight he had down your shirt.

“And what if that isn’t my cards, what would you say then~?”

“Then I’d say that if you have enough energy to be thinking about that, then you are capable of cleaning yourself up. Your wounds have stopped bleeding, anyways.” You wrenched your wrist from his hand, trying not to think about how easily he let you go as pushed yourself to your feet. “You know where the shower is, there’s clean towels under the sink as usual.”

He leaned back against the couch, tilting his head slightly as he regarded your aloof attitude with a chuckle, “What if I really do require your... assistance? I have lost a lot of blood, after all.”

You scoffed and folded your arms in front of your chest, “I think we both know it takes a more than a little blood loss to make you lose consciousness.”

He hummed and stood, walking towards you to bring a finger underneath your chin, “Will you be joining me, just to make sure?”

You swallowed thickly as your cheeks burned when his hot breath fanned across your face, and you wanted to kick yourself. His heavy-lidded gaze did nothing to help the feeling that stirred deep in your gut. You pulled yourself away from him, taking a step back to collect yourself and fixing another glare on him, only making his smirk widen. “Don’t be ridiculous, and don’t use up all the hot water.”

I’m gonna need one after cleaning up all your shit

You let out a sigh of relief as he relented, walking towards the bathroom. You hadn’t realized you had been holding your breath.

Running a hand down your face, you slung the bloody cloth over your shoulder and turned your head to examine the damage done to your couch since his arrival. You groaned at the sight. Deep red patches stained the cushions and armrest, there was no way that those were coming out no matter how deep you cleaned. There was only so much that online tips and laundry detergent could do, but that was a problem for later.

Your attention turned to the bloodied shirt that Hisoka had tossed unceremoniously on the floor, grimacing slightly at the way the clotted blood stuck to your fingers when you picked it up. Fuck, it was.... absolutely drenched! How the hell he was even able to stand was a miracle to you, but you didn’t want to think about it too much. That man was an enigma enough as it was.

The faint sound of the shower starting filled the silence in the house, making you relax slightly; the tension from earlier finally beginning to dissipate a little bit. You moved to the kitchen in order to attempt to restore the atrocity in your hands. It would need to soak in cold water for at least an hour before you could even begin to try scrubbing the blood out.

The sound of the sink filling with water aided in calming your nerves further as you held your fingers underneath the stream to test the temperature, tossing the bloody cloth onto the counter. It didn’t take long for the water to reach the halfway point before you turned it off.

The water immediately turned a deep red as soon as you placed the shirt in the sink. You repressed the urge to gag as gobs of clotted blood began to float off and onto your hands. No matter how many times you bandaged him up, you would never get used to the sight of the blood...

You paused briefly; your hands starting to get numb from the cold of the water as your mind wandered. How many times had you done this? How many times had he come into your house whenever he pleased, only for you to treat him without question? You let out a small laugh, shaking your head at yourself. ‘Without question’ wasn’t entirely accurate, but who could blame you for asking the Magician with a death wish what the hell he gets up to every once in a while. You frowned, looking over your shoulder towards the hallway that led to the bathroom. What were you going to do with him?

Guilt began to eat away at your heart as you thought about the gash going down his chest. You made him clean himself up, then again, he deserved it, but you wouldn’t leave him to patch himself up. You sighed, and picked the shirt up out of the water, ringing the material as much as you could before pulling the plug in the sink. You’d have to keep changing the water if you wanted any hope of getting the majority of the blood out.

While the sink filled again, you retrieved your kit from the living room and set it on the counter by the sink; pulling out what you believed you would need. Gauze for sure, it didn’t matter if the wound had stopped bleeding, you would need to pack it. From the state of his clothing though, you figured the worst of the bleeding had stopped before he arrived. Antibiotic ointment was mandatory... so was the compression bandage...

You groaned and massaged your temples in an attempt to relieve the oncoming headache. You couldn’t do stitches, which meant he would have to stay in your home so you could monitor his recovery. Which meant you’d have to get close to him to change his bandages. Multiple times.

The couch was out of commission as a place to sleep on now, given the state it was in...

You wanted to scream.

Hitting the handle on the tap a little harder than necessary, you placed the shirt back in, this time the water turning only a dark pink as it began to soak once again. You worried your bottom lip while wiping your hands with a dishtowel, trying to think of any possible sleeping arrangements that didn’t result in him sharing your bed; your anxiety rising the more you realized that it was looking like he might just have to share your bed...

God. Fucking. Damnit.

You shook your head, glancing over at the stove to read the bright red numbers that displayed the time.

11:06pm

With another sigh, you threw the towel on the counter and turned around to go deal with the couch. What you did not expect was to see Hisoka standing directly behind you, making you flinch in surprise and letting out a startled gasp.

“Holy mother of hell, Hisoka, warn a girl would ya?!” You panted, placing a hand over your now racing heart, sending yet another glare to the offending man in front of you. The glare, however, was short lived as soon as your realized his state of undress. The only thing keeping this man from being entirely stark naked in your kitchen was a grey towel that was slung a little too low on his hips for your comfort. You coughed and averted your eyes, despising the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and onto your cheeks.

“Would it kill you to put a pair of pants on?”

It was difficult to keep yourself from tripping over your words at the sight of him, and you glared at the wall when you heard him laugh in response.

“You’re so red, my dear, am I making you uncomfortable?”

You grit your teeth in frustration, seething at how his casual drawl wasn’t making anything better for you. You closed your eyes, inhaling deeply through your nose in an effort to calm yourself down before looking back over at your newly acquired house guest.

“You are beginning to overstep your bounds when it comes to my hospitality, either cover up or find someone else to treat your wounds.”

It was an empty threat and you both knew it. You both knew you were too kind to kick him out of your house, despite how uneasy he made you. It just wasn’t in your heart to do so. You ran your hand down your face again, your fingers pinching the bridge of your nose as you felt the headache begin to form once again.

“Just... grab the pair of sweatpants from the top left drawer of my dresser at least. I’ll wash your clothes tonight, since that’s the only guess I have for you being naked as a jaybird. I’ll meet you in the living room when you’re done.”

Grabbing your kit and a chair from the kitchen table, you brushed past him as quickly as possible and placed it in front of the one patch of the couch that wasn’t covered in blood and set your kit down on the floor. You peeked over your shoulder to see if he was still standing here.

He wasn’t. Thank god.

He reappeared moments later in the pair of grey sweats that looked way too good on him for how small they were. You felt heat creep back into your cheeks for what felt like the hundredth time that night.

“Take a seat in front of me, please.” You began to pull out what you would need, “it’ll make things easier if I don’t have to crouch in front of you.”

It would also make it harder for him to pull the same stunt he did before. A look you didn’t recognize flashed through his eyes before he complied. You leaned forward, resting your elbows on your knees, holding your hands under your chin as you began to reassess the damage.

The injury on his torso wasn’t as bad as you initially thought. It was deep and would still require stitches, but with the blood washed away it didn’t look as horrid as before. Clearing your throat, you began to work.

“I’m going to have to do this once or twice a day depending on how you heal,” you said, scooping some antibiotic ointment onto your fingers, “you won’t be able to do any more jobs until the large gash is fully healed, or anything too strenuous really.”

He simply hummed in response as you began to apply the ointment to his chest, trying to ignore how his muscles twitched with every swipe as you worked over his wounds. God, his skin was so hot against your hands...

“That being said, this isn’t as bad as I thought it was going to be,” you began to pack the wound with gauze, being careful not to press to hard on the wound, “with the amount of blood on the couch and on your clothes, I was expecting a lot worse...” you trailed off, the realization hitting you way later than it should have.

The sly smile that graced his face was frightening.

“Most of it isn’t mine, darling”

Your stomach lurched when he confirmed your suspicions out loud, but you forced the bile rising in your throat down; only nodding as you reached for the compression bandage. Your discomfort was still noticed by the magician, however, who leaned forward towards you a little more than necessary as you began to wrap the bandage around his chest.

“Because of the state of your injury, I would suggest you stay here for the next little while so I can keep an eye on your progress.”

You didn’t like the smile that crept across his face at that, or the way he leaned in closer to you when you wrapped the bandage around his back, “How long are we playing house then, hmm~?”

You gulped. His voice was teasing as always, but the implication behind it combined by the fact it was spoken directly in your ear sent shivers down your spine.

“I’d say about week or two.” You didn’t trust yourself to say much more as you secured the bandage with tensor clips. You checked your work over one last time before beginning to gather your things up. A frown tugged at Hisoka’s lips from the less than pleased tone in your voice.

“Don’t you want to play with me~?”

You shot him an unimpressed look as you stood up, wanting to be away from this man sooner rather than later. “I’m not your toy, Hisoka. I’m doing this for the sake of your health, because believe it or not, you are mortal.”

He followed your movements, standing in front of you before you had the chance to create any more distance between the two of you; once again taking your chin in his hand, this time more gently than before. It was.... caring almost.

“And it’s for reasons like that, my dear, that you are my favourite toy, and the idea of... playing with you in such a way is too much to pass up.”

It was your turn to frown at his words, “I don’t know what you mean, and I’m quite sure I don’t want to know.” That was a lie. You got the message loud and clear, but by god you wanted it to be wrong.

A dramatic sigh left his lips before he clicked his tongue in disapproval.

“My my, do you need me to explain it to you more simply?”

He didn’t. Shit.

You stared up at him, his red locks tickling your face from how close he was to you.

“Why me?” Your voice was barely a whisper. He tilted his head almost mockingly so.

“What was that, my dear?”

You narrowed your eyes, a sudden resurgence of bravery. “You could have anyone you want, why me?”

You expected him to give you that insufferable smile of his, or to at least laugh at you for even daring to ask such a question. Instead his eyes bore into you with an intensity that you’d never felt before, “Because you’re the only one that I want. You healed me when you didn’t have to and did so without question. I don’t think you understand what that means, my dear.”

You let out a surprised squeak as his lips collided with you in a kiss that held pure unbridled lust, teeth clashing from the intensity. He left you panting when he pulled back, licking along the shell of your ear. “You’re mine”.

You couldn’t even get your bearings before he kissed you again, just as bruising as before. Your gasps granted him the access to your mouth that he so obviously desired. The feeling of his hands wandering up your sides to your breasts brought you back to your senses enough to pull away from him and send a hand flying towards his face.

The smack resonated around the room, leaving your hand stinging while your chest heaved. You felt dizzy. Too much was happening too fast.

“How fucking dare you,” your voice was barely audible as a whirlwind of emotions ran through you. Hate? Want? Fear? You didn’t know anymore, but all you knew was that it was too much for you to handle, “You mistake my kindness and hospitality for something more. I am not yours, Hisoka.”

His head was still knocked to the side from the force of your slap. He wouldn’t admit it, but you hit harder than he expected. His shock was quickly replaced with a look that could only be described as predatory as he looked back towards you, licking his lips, tasting the blood from the small split you had caused; a mixture of a moan and growl leaving his throat.

“Oh, but you are, Y/N. You have been mine for a long time.”

The dread hit you like a bus. He had never said your name before, never in all the times he had come into your home. He was serious.

Oh fuck... what had you gotten yourself into...

In a last ditch effort, you bolted, but you didn’t get far.

You felt yourself getting yanked back, making you lose your balance and land on the floor; knocking the wind out of you. You wheezed, coughing from the force of the fall, stars littering your vision from your head smacking against the floor.

You regained clarity to the sound of your clothes being torn from your body, making you yelp, kicking and slapping the man on top of you in a vain attempt to get free. He chuckled and easily batted your hands away, gathering them into one hand and pinning them above your head. You whimpered, your clothes around you in ruined strips, leaving you bare beneath the man you had just treated moments ago; a small feeling of betrayal forming in your chest.

You were trapped.

The room was silent as Hisoka stilled above you for a moment, seemingly admiring the view. You were frozen in a state of shock and fear, tears beginning to form in your eyes while he ran his other hand down your body, stopping to cup your sex. You squirmed at the look he gave you when his fingers came away wet. How could you be wet from what he was doing to you?

He began to stroke your folds, letting his head fall into the crook of your neck and letting out a loud groan.

“Why you, you say?” He dipped one of his fingers into you, smirking into your neck as your breath hitched, placing open mouthed kisses along your throat as he began to thrust slowly.

“Because of this.” He punctuated the word by biting into the skin on your collar bone and sucking harshly, making you keen when he inserted another finger. “I’ve dreamt of this~”

You turned your head to the side, refusing to acknowledge the pleasure he was giving to your body when his lips wrapped around one of your nipples; his teeth lightly scraping making you shudder involuntarily. He groaned in response, shifting his heavy-lidded gaze towards your face and releasing your nipple with a pop.

“Oh, no, no, no, my darling~” He quickly withdrew his hand from your cunt hand and gripped your cheeks, forcing your head straight; his nails on his fingers, still wet from your arousal, digging into your skin harshly. You whimpered when your eyes met his, the intensity almost too much for you to bear, “I want you to watch every single thing I do to you.”

He slowly let go of your jaw, dragging his claws lightly down your throat to your breasts, giving them a light squeeze. You flinched, your hands clenched in fists at your side.

“I’ve dreamt of you under me...” He continued; the sentence broken up by wet kisses placed down your body. Your eyes widened, realizing his intentions immediately, but forcing yourself not to look away in fear of what he would do if you did.

“S-stop.” God, you hated how weak you sounded. Tears began to slip down your cheeks as he ventured lower down your body until you could feel his breath right on your cunt. “Please, Hisoka, I-”

A loud growl against your skin killed whatever pleads you had on your lips; the pupil of his eyes blown so wide they nearly swallowed the golden iris. He looked feral.

“I love the way you say my name, Y/N”

A squeal left your throat when you felt his tongue on your slit, your hips bucking on their own accord when the hot muscle dragged from your core up to your aching clit before he latched onto it and sucked harshly; making you toss your head to the side as you squeezed your eyes shut at the burst of pleasure that shot through you, more tears dripping onto the floor.

The breathy moans and growls from Hisoka only added to your reluctant growing arousal as he ate you out like a man starved. His hands gripped you from under your thighs so he could pull you close to his face while holding you down; the sounds coming from his mouth loud and downright lewd as he lapped at the new slick.

“I want you to say my name over, and over again; I want you to scream it so loudly your neighbours can hear exactly who you belong to.”

Your breathing hitched as you felt a familiar tightening beginning to form in your lower stomach. You bucked against him, the last of your resistance starting to die out as your orgasm continued to build. You felt him groan into your core more than you heard him, making you shudder.

“Moan for me darling, don’t hide any of those pretty noises from me.”

You cried out when you felt his fingers back at your entrance, dipping into you with less caution than the first time. You could feel his nails dragging along your walls as he fucked his fingers into you at a steady pace, scratching lightly on your g-spot in a way that should not have felt as good as it did.

“Hisoka!”

“Cum for me, darling, let me hear you~” He purred, suckling on your nub with vigor as he pumped his fingers into you faster.

You came with a chocked sob mixed with a moan, your pussy clamping down on his fingers like a vice, gushing around him. You felt sick as you came down from your high, watching as he released his assault on your clit with a lewd pop, a thin trail of drool connecting his lips to your swollen cunt.

“You’re so good for me, darling.” He cooed. You could only muster up a withering look, your words failing you. This, of course, just made him chuckle as he pushed the grey sweats down his hips, his length springing free and slapping against his stomach. “However, I’d much rather feel you come undone on my cock.”

Your eyes widened... he couldn’t seriously go through with this... could he?

Could he?

“Hisoka wait!”

Your shout made him pause briefly before he kissed his way back up your body, coming to hover just above your lips; that insufferable smirk back on his mouth that shone with your slick. Your face flushed at the sight, and you rolled your head back to the side in shame.

“Please... please don’t...”

Another silence filled the room as he regarded your trembling form pinned beneath him. A spark of hope was reignited in you, his hesitation giving you the courage to bring your hands up, pressing lightly against the bandage on his chest in your attempt to push him away.

That spark was quickly snuffed out when he let out a guttural moan, his eyes rolling back slightly before focusing back on you.

You forgot he liked pain.

“Didn’t I already say, love?” He teased the head of his cock against your swollen clit making you squirm, new tears forming in your eyes from a combination of the stimulation and the hopelessness. Your back arched off the floor and your jaw fell open in a silent scream as he sank into you in a slow, agonizing thrust. He licked a stripe up your neck with a possessive growl, stopping just in front of your ear. “You belong to me.”

He didn’t give you time to adjust to his size before he pulled back and thrust his hips against you harshly, the sound of skin hitting skin echoing throughout the room along with your moans and hiccupping sobs.

“Oh fuck, Y/N...” He gasped, his head tilting back in ecstacy, your walls fluttering around him as he hammered your insides; stretching you out in a painfully blissful way.

You loved it, and you hated yourself for it.

“Oohhhh darling, you were mine the first time you treated me.” He grunted, shifting the angle of his hips to penetrate you deeper. You bit your lip, desperately trying to contain the whines leaving your throat with each brush of his cock on the bundle of nerves deep inside of you, his words only making you flush deeper... if that were even possible.

“I would’ve taken you then and there, had you begging and crying under me like you are now.” You felt his dick twitch inside you at his own words and your pussy clenched around him.

God, what was wrong with you?

He growled, and suddenly pulled away from you. Relief flooded your system for a split second before you felt yourself being flipped over, your hips being pulled back and his cock sheathing back inside you with a thrust that made the whines finally spill from you; your arms laying limply next to your head as he resumed to pound into you at a pace that could only be described as inhuman. His balls slapped against your clit each time he bottomed out, making your breath come out in quick, desperate gasps.

“Do you like that, my dear? Knowing that I could’ve done this to you sooner?”

You only groaned in response, the coil in your abdomen beginning to form again. The tears slipped from your eyes as you weakly shook your head. Why did this feel so good? Why did your body react to him like this?

Your teeth dug into your bottom lip when you felt his hand circle around to your clit, rubbing in rough circles that made your eyes roll back into your head.

You couldn’t take it.

You couldn’t help the wanton moan that passed through your lips as you came, your head hanging loosely as your body continued to bounce from the power of his thrusts; your pussy convulsing around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm.

“Hmmm~ you didn’t want to cooperate a few minutes ago, look at you now,” He fisted the hair at the base of your skull and pulled you back to his chest, his thrusts never wavering as he spoke into your ear, “coming undone for me a second time.” His chuckle gave way to a breathy moan as his thrusts became more erratic, losing rhythm as he began to slam into you with fever.

“I’m going to fill you up, my dear.” He growled, biting down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, making you cry out when his teeth broke the skin. The sight of your blood making him thrust into you harder and faster. “Then you’ll truly know that you are mine.”

Your moans left you with no restraint, incoherent babbling falling from your lips at the overstimulation. You could no longer think, all your energy focused on the dick that was pistoning in and out of your squelching cunt.

Hisoka’s hips stuttered as he came inside of you, his cock spurting thick hot ropes of cum right against your cervix, coating your walls as he bit down on your neck once more, lazily fucking into you a few more times before he stilled.

Your breathing was ragged as everything slowly came to a stop, the weight of everything crashing over you as your lids dropped with exhaustion. You whined weakly as he pulled out of you, the sudden emptiness now foreign to you. You slumped to the floor, emotional and physical fatigue washing over you as you stared blankly up at the man who had just ruined your trust and your body. Your eyes flickered to the bandage on his chest, a thin line of red beginning to form from your exertions.

Even after all that... you still cared.

Damn him.

He ran a hand through his hair as he stared down at you, a pleased smile on his face as he took in your fucked out form, his dick twitching at the sight.

Oh yes.

He would enjoy playing house with you much more now.

----

Part 1, Part 3

Tag List: @prettycutebunny, @my-child-gaara, @shorkbrian, @luesi, @mynameseri, @yep-seeyalaterbranflakes, @trash-writings

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