#//But he always makes sure to breathe each time—he’s got a real good sense of the timing to make sure he doesnt actually stay down for long | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

keyotos · 2 years ago

Text

eyes on you

summary: when do the hsr men have their eyes on you?

includes ⎯ dan heng, gepard, blade, sampo & jing yuan

tana's words ⎯ i am OBSESSED w the sound "all these girls look good but i got my eyes on you." so that's what inspired me to write this. this is sickenly sweet btw.

dan heng

⎯ let’s be real this man always has his eyes on you. he is probably watching you to look out for you. but that’s just in a romantic sense.

⎯ dan heng is the observer type. he watches and he learns.

⎯ he watches you quite a lot. he always tries to brush it off as trying to make sure you don't break anything, but march & stelle know better. even you aren't that klutzy.

⎯ dan heng watches what you eat to find out what you enjoy. he watches how you react to certain things to see if you dislike them or not. in short, he observes (watches) you to find out how to be better for you. he wants to be the best version of himself, and that includes knowing what all your favorite things are.

⎯ he definitely logs all the information he knows about you in his little data base. it's like his notes app, but a notes app for nerds.

⎯ march & stelle insist he just ask you, but nooooooo, because that would seem like he doesn't know anything about you. in reality, he knows plenty.

⎯ you would think that, judging on how much he stares at you, he would know how to not get caught. WRONG. you've caught him on multiple occasions.

one time, when the world around you was surprisingly peaceful, you and dan heng went to go get food for march & stelle. after you ordered their food you guys sat down at a table (bc you all were meeting up) with their food. you eyed the food carefully before stealing a sip of stelle's drink.

⎯ "she won't mind!" she did. but that's okay.

when you took a sip out of stelle's drink, dan heng was watching you closely to see if you would enjoy it. if you enjoyed it, he'd get one for you the next time you guys come. while he's staring, he loses track of his original goal and begins noting other things. the crinkle of your eyes when you smile at the taste of the drink. the way your whole face lights up.

⎯ "take a picture, it'll last longer," you caught him and smiled. dan heng leaves his trance and begins to blush.

⎯ "that is such a ridiculous line," he shakes his head, trying to deflect the fact that he's been caught. he has his eyes on you one more time to see you smirking at him.

⎯ he now takes candid photos of you because of that line.

gepard

⎯ due to his captain position, you guys never got to see each other often. any free time you had was treated with utmost importance and no time could be spared. gepard barely had any time to set any eyes on you.

⎯ when bronya became the supreme guardian and when the fragmentum dispelled, everything changed. gepard now had more free time, which meant he had more time with you. time that could be spent doing nothing but just admiring the way you look.

gepard hasn't seen you in weeks. with the final clearance of the fragmentum monsters, he was gifted a few weeks of clarity with you. when he got home, he immediately showered and tried his best to look good for you.

when he saw you for the first time, you literally took his breath away. it was as if you glowed; you were nearly as radiant as the bright sun that was shining down on your face. gepard's eyes and his attention were only on you.

⎯ you and the guy that was standing next to you.

⎯ WHO IS THIS MAN????? did you finally get tired of endless waiting? did you feel lonely? does he treat you well? is he nice? does he listen to all your rants? is he there to kiss you goodnight?

⎯ gepard's thoughts are interrupted when he hears your voice. he sees you running over to him and then you're pulling him.

you grab his arm, pulling him towards the new guy. gepard was initially worried about what was going to happen next, but all was forgotten when he felt your arm tangled around his once again; he immediately leaned into your warm touch. instead of looking at the new guy, his eyes follow you at all times. gepard's fond expression is seen by all except himself.

his absence from your grace allowed him to forget every small detail about you. the way your smile grew as you spoke about your relationship (gepard blushed). the way you got all excited when you were introducing people. the way your voice goes up an octave when you get excited.

every time you pull yourself closer to his body, gepard is on the verge of combustion. he’s been touch starved for so long, he couldn’t wait for until you guys went home. he just wanted to be in bed or on the couch with you, simply relaxing in sweet nothing.

for now though, gepard waited for the conversation to end.

⎯ when the conversation is over, you and gepard have a small conversation.

"sooo, were you listening to me or staring at me during that whole thing?" you smirked. when gepard's face blushed, you couldn't help but smile. "i wasn't cheating on you if that's what you were worried about," you pulled him closer using the collar of his shirt, "i missed you too, by the way," and pulled him in for a kiss.

blade

⎯ blade doesn't consider himself to be the staring type. he's more, less talking (staring), more action (i'll let you guys interpret).

⎯ but how could he not stare at you when you look so peaceful. you're sleeping in his bed, wrapping in his blankets, and snoring without a care in the world.

⎯ had the snoring not been so loud, blade wouldn't have woken up to find such an endearing moment.

⎯ now, blade has been staring at your sleeping figure for longer than he would like to admit. he's been watching the rise and fall of your chest. listening to the snores getting quieter and then louder once more. he cannot tear his eyes off of your peaceful state.

blade brushes pieces of stray hair away from your face. he puts his hand over your sleeping figure, as if he was trying to protect you from the evils in the night. at this moment, however, there were no evils. just you and him in the moonlight. maybe it was the domesticity of the whole situation that made him continue his one-sided staring contest. with all the fighting and destruction going on in the universe right now, you are still next to him. you are here, and he is listening to you snore.

⎯ it's when you shuffle around the best, blade gets scared. he's scared he woke you up and ruined this domestic moment. his hand recoils away from your body.

⎯ when you turn, you are still asleep. it seems you were just readjusting yourself. readjusting yourself closer to him, that is. you went from back facing him to your front facing him.

⎯ blade watched your face as you slept. you looked so beautiful with the pale moonlight shining down on your face. normally, you complained that you couldn't sleep with the moon shining on your face, so that's why you slept with your back facing towards blade.

⎯ but tonight, blade has never gotten a chance to admire how the moonlight reflects on the shapes of your faces. your eyes, your lips, your nose.

⎯ it's when you put a hand on his knee, blade nearly jumps back. not out of fear (slightly out of fear), but because he thought he woke you up by breathing. he was confused.

you put your hand on his knee, in a sleeping daze. usually, at night, you are always physically touching your boyfriend somehow. but tonight, he is awake, watching you. your small act of physical touch was a beckoning for him to go to sleep and be with you.

⎯ blade grabbed your hand and slipped back under the covers with you. this time, after admiring one last glimpse of your sleeping face, he tugged you closer to him and you both fell asleep.

sampo

⎯ there are many formidable fighters in boulder city. that's a fact. fighting is the way of many in the underworld. sampo has seen it first hand.

⎯ sampo had not, however, seen a fighter as formidable as you.

⎯ he stumbled upon one of dig's matches at the right time. there was a crowd leading out to the door; it peaked sampo's curiosity. he had intentions of selling items at first, which is why he was shuffling through the crowd to get into the center. but when he saw you in the ring, beating everyone in your path, his beginning intentions were forgotten.

⎯ his eyes were glued to you: he was obsessed with the way you moved, the way you glided across the ring, the way you confidently destroyed all your enemies. he found you entrancing, and he had to see you after the match.

⎯ you’re no underground idiot. you’re aware of sampo koski and his costly scams. when he comes up to you after your match, you were about to run away. still, something about his presence made you want to stay.

when you turned around, you were faced with sampo koski hovering over you. “can i help you?” you asked in a raised tone.

“yes,” sampo smiled. you were interested in where this conversation was going, and you were curious on why sampo chose you to be his next victim. “mind teaching me some moves?”

⎯ you expected a lot of things in this situation. scamming, coy flirtation, winks, etc. you did not expect this.

⎯ you almost stumble back in shock. why does he want to know self-defense tips?? who are the people he’s scamming??????

you’re silent for several beats before sampo begins again, ��you’re the best fighter in the underground, honest. and,” he dragged on the word to drag out the conversation, “that means you can help me!”

⎯ if sampo was really being honest with himself, he could’ve asked any other person in the ring. anyone else would’ve shown him self-defense; they liked him. you probably did not (judging by your expression).

⎯ instead, he wanted you. he told himself it was because you were the best fighter in the ring and you were talented. but deep down, it’s because he couldn’t keep his eyes off your performance the entire time; he was encapsulated by you.

“flattery will get you nowhere,” you patted his shoulder and started to walk away; however, sampo’s hand lightly grabs onto your arm, urging you to stay. and for some reason, you don’t let go.

“cmon,” he smirked, and it was weirdly attractive, “what if i need a bodyguard?”

⎯ maybe it was the tone of his voice. maybe it was the way he looked at you. maybe it was the way he held onto you, but he didn’t hold on too tight. whatever it was that night, it convinced you to stay by his side for a long time.

jing yuan

⎯ he can’t take his eyes off of you when he sees you in the courtyard playing chess with yanqing.

⎯ it's a sight for sore eyes, seeing you and yanqing together. the way you two got along so well made jing yuan's heart swell. seeing you two was like feeling the warm sun after a chilly day.

⎯ jing yuan has never expected you to stay for so long. his life has been full of troubles: intense training at a young age, the death of his master, taking on yanqing as his apprentice, and probably more to come. and yet, you've stayed by his side.

⎯ you are here. and you are alive and you are well. with a life full of loss, jing yuan is happy you are still here. he’s happy that you are smiling and laughing and you are doing mundane things such as playing chess.

⎯ it’s a simple activity. it’s calm and it’s peaceful and there’s no harm coming your way. life seems good for once, and jing yuan thinks he can get used to this as long as you were around him. he finds that peace comes along when you are around anyway.

“darn it! how did you see that?!” yanqing exclaimed, shocked by your recent move in chess. you simply smiled in retaliation, “dunno. face it kid, i am just that good.”

“hey! i was close to getting you though,” the boy reminded you. jing yuan was getting closer now to eavesdrop on your conversation. “key word being close,” you snickered.

⎯ who knew the way into jing yuan’s heart was banter and chess? the more he listened to your conversation, the more his heart swelled. the way you got along so easily with yanqing made him all warm and happy inside; it was such a domestic sight to see.

jing yuan approached your battle with yanqing and sat down next to you. like a moth to a light, you immediately leaned into his body, and jing yuan had to fight off the urge to pull you closer to him.

⎯ yanqing didn’t notice anything, as he was too focused on the chess game. he moved one of his pieces that were then followed by one of your chess pieces.

“you know i was the one who taught your master how to play chess?” you blurted out to yanqing as you followed his pieces around the board. jing yuan looked at you fondly, eyes never leaving your face.

“that’s why i’m so good,” you smirked, “and that’s also why i’m smart enough to do this,” you somehow managed to trap all of yanqing’s pieces, and one by one you started to take them all.

⎯ jing yuan had to hold in his laughter as he watched yanqing’s jaw drop to the floor as you give a low chuckle. jing yuan’s eyes went back to your face, and he thinks that this is nice. he could get used to this.

um yk idk if this is good or not but hopefully u guys enjoy this lol

#tana writes (∗´ ᨔ `∗)#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #gepard x you #gepard x reader #blade x reader #blade x you #gepard landau x reader #sampo x reader #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #i am on a grind #will definitely be using fighter!reader for other hcs/fics/drabbles

7K notes · View notes

lila-lou · 1 month ago

Text

✨Houston - Pt. 1/2✨

Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.

-requested-

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Warnings: Language, ANGST

Word Count: 6986

A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.

English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷

Jensen had been gone for his new show in Los Angeles, filming for what felt like an eternity — over ten weeks now, with no real break in sight. The production schedule was tighter than ever due to unexpected delays when one of the main actors fell sick, which caused the entire shoot to be pushed back. You hadn’t seen him for over two months, and the distance was starting to weigh on you. There was no chance for quick weekend visits or even mid-week surprises. Everything had changed with this new project.

In those long ten weeks, Jensen had managed to get only three days off, and he used them to fly back to see his kids. You couldn’t fault him for that and you understood how much he missed them. Still, the loneliness lingered like an unwelcome shadow. Tomorrow, though, was supposed to be different. He was finally coming home, even if just for a week, and you had been counting down the days like a lifeline.

But now, as you stood by the large window overlooking the ocean, something inside you twisted with unease. The darkening skies in the distance mirrored the storm brewing in your mind. The TV in the background blared with warnings of severe weather rolling in from the Gulf, interrupting your thoughts with each alert. The meteorologist spoke of high winds and heavy rain, not quite enough to warrant an evacuation, but enough to make you feel a creeping sense of dread.

It had been two years since you and Jensen made the decision to move to Houston, settling into this beautiful, sprawling house right on the coastline. At the time, it seemed perfect. The ocean view, the sunsets over the water, the space and serenity. But now, as the storm warnings flashed across the screen, you wondered if you’d made the right decision. You had never been good with storms. The sound of the wind howling, the sharp crack of thunder — they had always sent shivers down your spine, leaving you feeling vulnerable and anxious.

The move to the Gulf of Mexico seemed impulsive now, in hindsight. Sure, Jensen loved it here, and the house was gorgeous, but you had always known this fear lurked deep inside you. Storms unsettled you, and the thought of facing one alone, without him by your side, only made it worse.

Your stomach twisted in knots as you pressed your forehead against the cool glass, watching the gray clouds gather on the horizon.

You groaned, feeling the frustration bubble up inside you. The anxiety gnawed at you, and the tension in your shoulders made it hard to relax. “Of all days”, you muttered under your breath, pushing yourself away from the window.

With a sigh, you grabbed your phone and dialed your best friend’s number, knowing she’d be awake even though she lived halfway across the world. Spain. Never having to deal with the heavy weather nonsense like hurricanes or tornadoes. You often teased her about how lucky she was to live in a country where the worst thing she had to worry about was a hot summer day or maybe some rain in the winter.

As you walked toward the kitchen, waiting for her to pick up, the soft ring of the phone seemed to be swallowed by the growing rumble of thunder outside. Your eyes drifted to the oven as you remembered the batch of chocolate cookies you’d put in earlier. Well, they were more Jensen’s favorite than yours.

The phone finally clicked, and your friend’s cheerful voice came through the speaker. “Hola, chica! What’s up?”.

You let out a heavy sigh as you reached for the kettle, flicking it on to make yourself some tea. “Hey… just trying to calm my nerves. We’ve got a storm rolling in, and you know how much I hate this stuff”.

“Storm? Ugh, I don’t envy you”, she replied with a sympathetic tone. “It’s like a whole other world over there, isn’t it? Here I am, in sunny Spain, sipping wine and you’re getting hit with storms again. Why did you agree to move to the Gulf in the first place?”.

You chuckled, a bit of bitterness in your voice as you pulled out a mug from the cabinet. “I have no idea. Jensen wanted the ocean, and it seemed like a good idea at the time. You know me—anything to make him happy. But every time a storm rolls in, I swear I regret it”.

As the kettle clicked off, you poured the hot water over the tea bag, the steam curling up into the air. You leaned against the counter, glancing at the oven timer. Just a few more minutes on the cookies. “I mean, I get it”, you continued, twirling the tea bag absentmindedly in the water. “He loves it here, and the house is beautiful, but I just can’t shake this fear. Every time the weather turns bad, I get this pit in my stomach. And it doesn’t help that he’s been away for so long. It’s hard to deal with all this on my own”.

She sighed on the other end of the line, her voice softening. “How long has he been gone this time?”.

You swallowed, staring down at the swirling tea in your mug. “Ten weeks”, you murmured, feeling the weight of that number pressing down on you. “Ten long weeks, and in all that time, he’s only had three days off. I get it, he used those to see his kids, which is exactly what he should do. But it’s just been… hard”.

Your friend stayed quiet for a moment, as if letting the words sink in. She knew how much you hated when Jensen was away for extended periods, especially when life got difficult. “Ten weeks… damn”, she finally said, her tone laced with sympathy. “That’s rough, chica. I know you’re strong, but that’s a lot, especially with this storm hitting now”.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, feeling the tension rise again as you heard another distant rumble of thunder. “It’s just been one thing after another lately”, you admitted, rubbing a hand over your eyes. “And now this storm… it’s not supposed to be anything major, but you know me. I hate this stuff. The wind, the rain, it freaks me out. Always has”.

Your friend’s voice softened even more. “I remember. Back when we used to talk late at night during storms, you’d be on edge, counting down the minutes until it passed. I can’t imagine being by the ocean during one”.

You sighed, feeling a lump form in your throat. “Yeah, and I’m here, in this huge house, by myself. Well, I’ve got Jensen’s cookies”, you added with a weak laugh, trying to lighten the mood, but the fear still lingered beneath the surface.

“Wish I could teleport myself over there and keep you company”, she said warmly. “Though I’m not sure how much help I’d be. Maybe I could distract you with all my boring Spain stories. Sun, siestas, and sangria… You know, the usual”.

You smiled, even though it didn’t fully reach your eyes. “That sounds a hell of a lot better than storm prep and waiting for the power to go out”.

Another sigh escaped your friend. “You need a break from all this. Having him around will help, I’m sure”.

“Yeah, I hope so too”, you whispered, the longing for Jensen’s presence making your chest tighten. The thought of him walking through the door tomorrow, even for just a week, was the only thing keeping you grounded right now.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, the kind that stretched just a little too long, and you knew your friend was working up to something. When she finally spoke again, her voice was quiet, hesitant. “Have you… told him yet?”.

Your heart skipped a beat, the weight of her words settling heavily in the pit of your stomach. The unspoken truth between you, the one you had been avoiding for weeks. You took a shaky breath, gripping the edge of the counter for support as the familiar wave of anxiety washed over you again.

“No”, you whispered, barely loud enough for her to hear, your voice breaking slightly. “Not yet”.

Your friend didn’t rush to respond, giving you the space to gather your thoughts. You could almost hear the sympathy through the phone, her understanding of how complicated things had become. She knew you too well—knew the fear that had been gnawing at you since you first saw the two pink lines on the test, and how you had been holding onto that secret ever since, waiting for the right moment to break the news.

If there even was a “right moment”.

You closed your eyes, leaning back against the cool kitchen counter, the weight of your unspoken truth pressing down on your chest. “It’s not exactly something I can drop over the phone”, you added softly, more to yourself than to her.

“I know”, she said gently, her voice filled with understanding. “It’s definitely face-to-face news”.

You let out a heavy sigh, your eyes drifting toward the window where the dark clouds were still gathering. The irony wasn’t lost on you — the brewing storm outside wasn’t nearly as frightening as the one in your heart. Jensen had been so clear from the beginning, right from the very start of your relationship. He loved his kids, adored being their father, but he was done. He didn’t want more. He had been through the sleepless nights, the diapers, the chaos of raising young children, and he had made it crystal clear that he had no desire to go back to that. No more babies. No more starting over.

And now here you were, facing the very thing he never wanted. The very thing that might push him away, might change everything between you.

“I just…”. Your voice wavered as you struggled to find the right words. “He was so sure, you know? About not wanting more kids. He told me from the beginning that he was done, and I accepted that. I was okay with it because I love him. But now…”. You trailed off, biting your lip to stop your emotions from spilling over.

“Now, things are different”, she finished softly, filling in the words you couldn’t bring yourself to say.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you, tears stinging at the corners of your eyes. “I don’t even know how he’s going to react. What if he’s angry? What if this is the one thing that changes everything? I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t hide this forever. And the longer I wait, the harder it’s going to get”.

Your friend was quiet for a moment, letting the weight of your words settle. When she spoke again, her voice was filled with warmth and understanding. “You’re going to have to tell him, eventually. And yes, it’s probably going to be hard. But you know Jensen. He loves you. Whatever his initial reaction, that won’t change. He might need time to process it, but he’s not the type to just walk away”.

You sniffed, wiping at your eyes as a tear finally slipped free. “I know… I know that. But it’s just—he’s been gone for so long, and everything’s already so strained. What if this is the thing that breaks us?”.

There was a long silence on the other end, and for a moment you wondered if the call had dropped. But then your friend spoke, her voice quiet but firm. “This won’t break you. Not if you’re honest with him. It’s going to be tough, but you can’t carry this alone. You deserve to have someone beside you through all of it. And… he deserves to know”.

Your throat tightened, and you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words. “I just… I’m scared”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared of how he’ll react, and I’m scared of what this will mean for us”.

“I know”, she said softly. “But you’re strong, and you can do this. And no matter what, I’m here for you. You don’t have to go through this alone”.

You nodded again, grateful for her support even across the ocean. The sound of the timer beeping in the background startled you, pulling you from the heaviness of the moment. The cookies were done. You forced a small smile, trying to hold onto the sliver of normalcy that baking had given you.

“I’ll tell him when he comes home”, you said quietly, more to yourself than to her. “Face to face. It’s the only way”.

“You’re doing the right thing”, your friend assured you. “He loves you, and he’s going to be there for you, no matter what. Just give him time”.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. “Thanks. I really needed to hear that”.

“That’s what I’m here for,” she replied warmly. “Now, go enjoy those cookies, okay? And try not to worry too much about tomorrow. One storm at a time”.

You laughed softly, a bittersweet sound. “Yeah… one storm at a time”.

As you hung up the phone and pulled the warm cookies from the oven, the weight of what lay ahead still hung in the air. Tomorrow, Jensen would come home, and with him, the conversation that would change everything. You could only hope that, like the storm outside, it would pass without too much damage.

You placed the tray of cookies on the counter, their rich chocolate scent filled the kitchen, momentarily grounding you in something warm and familiar. You stared down at them, freshly baked and perfectly round, thinking about how Jensen always joked that your cookies were better than any fancy dessert. It was such a small thing, but right now, it felt like a lifeline—a fleeting reminder of the simplicity that used to define your relationship before things became so complicated.

You couldn’t help but think back to when everything was easier, when his laugh could chase away any worry you had, and when you both felt invincible. But now, that invincibility felt fragile.

The soft rumble of thunder echoed through the house, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling smaller in the vastness of the empty space.

You leaned against the counter, staring blankly at the cookies, your mind already racing ahead to tomorrow. You could picture his face, the familiar crinkle of his eyes as he walked through the door, probably exhausted but happy to see you. And you knew that the moment would come when you'd have to break the news. You’d have to see his reaction, whatever it would be—whether it was surprise, disbelief, or the worst thing you could imagine… disappointment.

You closed your eyes, fighting back the sting of tears. Disappointment. That was what scared you the most.

No more kids.

He loved his children fiercely, but he had drawn that line firmly in the sand from the start. The thought of him looking at you with anything less than love in his eyes, anything less than the warmth and affection you had grown so used to, made your stomach churn.

The truth was, you hadn’t planned this. Neither of you had. And the timing couldn’t have been worse. He was in the middle of filming a new project, already stretched thin from the demands of his career. You had been doing your best to hold things together, to be patient, to give him the space he needed while you dealt with this on your own. But now the secret was too big to keep any longer.

And still, you hadn’t even allowed yourself to fully process the reality of it. The tiny life growing inside of you felt surreal, like a secret you were keeping even from yourself. There were moments when you could push it to the back of your mind, pretend it wasn’t real, but those moments were becoming fewer and further between. You couldn’t escape the truth any longer.

Tomorrow, he would be home. Tomorrow, you would have to tell him.

You placed your hands on your stomach, your fingers resting lightly, almost protectively, over the slight curve that had begun to form. It was still small, easy enough to hide under loose clothing, but you couldn’t hide it forever. And you didn’t want to. Not really. You wanted to share this with him, to let him in on the secret you had been carrying for weeks. But the fear… the fear of how he would react made it feel like an impossible task.

You took a deep, shaky breath and whispered into the quiet kitchen, as if saying it aloud would somehow prepare you for what was coming. “I’m pregnant”.

The words felt foreign on your tongue, and saying them aloud didn’t make the reality any easier to bear. But they were real. There was no taking them back now.

As you stood there, staring out the window into the growing storm, you couldn’t help but wonder what tomorrow would bring.

Would he be angry? Shocked? Maybe he wouldn’t even know what to say at first. You played out a hundred scenarios in your mind, none of them feeling quite right. You couldn’t predict how he would react, but you knew that this was a conversation that would change everything. There was no going back once the truth was out.

The thunder rumbled again, closer this time, and you shivered despite the warmth of the kitchen. You reached for your tea and held the mug in your hands, seeking comfort from the warmth.

Just then, the phone rang, its sudden chime cutting through the quiet tension in the room. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the name flash across the screen. Jensen.

For a moment, you just stared at it, your stomach flipping nervously. The sound of his name on the screen, so familiar, so comforting, felt like a jolt to your already raw nerves. He wasn’t supposed to call until later, closer to his flight time. Your fingers trembled slightly as you swiped to answer, bringing the phone to your ear.

“Hey”, you greeted softly, trying to steady your voice, but you couldn’t help the slight quiver in it.

“Hey, sweetheart”, Jensen’s warm, familiar voice filled the line, and for just a second, you felt a rush of relief. “You okay? You sound a little off”.

You bit your lip, glancing out the window again, watching the heavy clouds roll in. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine. Just, you know, storm’s coming in, and I’m alone in the house. I’m probably overreacting, as usual”.

He chuckled softly, that deep, rich sound that used to make you feel safe. “You and storms, huh? You’ve always hated them. It’s just a little rain though, right? Nothing to worry about”.

“Yeah, just rain”, you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper as the truth of what you were really afraid of sat heavy in your chest. But you couldn’t tell him now, not like this, over the phone. Not when he was hours away. Not when he was expecting you to be waiting at home, smiling, with cookies on the counter.

There was a brief pause on the other end, and you could almost hear the tension in Jensen’s voice, like he wanted to say more but was holding back. Then he spoke, and his tone was apologetic, laced with that familiar warmth that you loved so much.

“Hey, I’ve got to get back to filming in a minute”, he said gently, “but I just wanted to check in on you. Make sure you’re okay”.

Your heart sank a little at his words. Even though you hadn’t expected this call, the idea of him hanging up so soon, when you were craving any sense of normalcy, left you feeling hollow. But you forced a small smile into your voice, pushing aside the anxiety for his sake.

“Okay”, you replied softly, clutching the phone a little tighter. “I’ll be fine. The house is safe, and I’ve got enough cookies to last a week, even if the power goes out”.

He laughed again, that low, comforting sound that almost made you forget about the storm inside you. “You’re always prepared, huh?”.

“Trying to be”, you said, though the weight of the secret you were carrying made you feel anything but.

There was another pause, and you heard some shuffling in the background—probably crew members calling for him. He sighed. “Listen, I’ve got to run, but I’ll call you as soon as I’m at the airport later, okay?”.

“Thanks, Jensen”, you whispered, the sound of his name bringing a soft warmth to your heart despite everything. “I’ll be okay. Be safe, alright?”.

“I will. You hang in there, alright? I’ll talk to you in a few hours”. His voice softened, and you could picture him standing there, probably with that concerned look he got when he knew you weren’t telling him everything.

“I will”, you promised, though inside, you knew it was going to be a long few hours.

“Love you”, he added quickly, and those words, like always, wrapped around you like a blanket.

“Love you too”, you whispered, knowing how much you meant it, but feeling the weight of the untold truth settling even heavier on your chest.

Then the call ended, and the silence rushed back into the room, the steady beat of the rain against the windows the only sound left.

You stood there for a moment, gripping the phone like it was an anchor. The storm outside was getting louder, the wind picking up, rattling the windows just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As evening fell, you found yourself standing in front of the large living room windows again, staring out at the angry ocean. The waves were crashing violently against the shore, each one louder than the last, and the dark sky was lit up intermittently by flashes of lightning far in the distance. For the past hour, heavy rain had been pounding against the house, making any thoughts of sleep seem impossible. You hadn’t even bothered trying to settle down—there was no way you could rest with the storm growing more intense by the minute.

The wind had picked up, howling through the trees that lined the edge of your property, bending them until they looked as though they would snap. The way the branches thrashed made your chest tighten with anxiety. This was more than just a little rain. The storm outside was quickly turning into something far more dangerous.

You wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to fight the creeping sense of fear that had been building inside you all day. It was hard to focus on anything else—the looming conversation with Jensen, the storm that seemed intent on tearing apart everything outside your door. You tried to drown out the worry by turning on the TV for the latest updates, hoping for some reassurance, but just as you were about to settle on the couch, the power flickered.

And then, everything went dark.

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood frozen in place, listening to the sudden silence that filled the room. Even the hum of the refrigerator had gone quiet. No lights, no TV, no comforting glow from the oven clock. You fumbled for your phone, but a quick glance at the screen showed what you had feared: no signal. The storm had knocked out the power, and with it, your connection to the outside world.

You were alone.

A cold knot of fear twisted in your stomach. The walls around you felt suffocating, and the sound of the storm outside—the rain pounding against the windows, the wind howling like a creature trying to claw its way inside—made the house feel smaller than it had ever felt before. The darkness seemed endless, swallowing up the comforting familiarity of your home, and all you could do was stand there, staring at your reflection in the glass as the storm raged beyond.

And then, your thoughts went to Jensen.

Somewhere far away, sitting in an airport, blissfully unaware of how much the storm had escalated. The last time you had spoken, he had laughed, reassured you that it was just a little rain. But this… this was something else. You wondered if he had seen the news, if he knew how bad it was getting here. You couldn’t even warn him now, couldn’t tell him to stay safe, to stay put.

Meanwhile, in LA, Jensen sat in the crowded terminal, his phone in hand as he absentmindedly scrolled through old texts from you, his mind somewhere between exhaustion and the anticipation of finally coming home. He’d been waiting for what felt like hours, his flight delayed over and over again. The storm back home had been on his mind, but nothing in the forecast had seemed serious when he last checked. Just some heavy rain, maybe a little wind, but nothing out of the ordinary for Houston this time of year.

That was until an announcement echoed over the loudspeakers, the sound snapping him back to the present. The terminal buzzed with confusion as people around him started looking at their phones, murmurs rising into a collective hum of concern.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we regret to inform you that all flights to Houston have been canceled due to an unexpected hurricane forming off the Gulf. Please make your way to the customer service desks for further instructions”.

Jensen’s heart sank as the words hit him. Hurricane? He immediately stood, his fingers instinctively dialing your number, but there was no response. Nothing. He tried again, and again, but each call went straight to voicemail.

His stomach churned with worry, his mind racing with worst-case scenarios. He had told you it was just a little rain, that everything would be fine. And now, a hurricane was bearing down on you, and he couldn’t reach you. He couldn’t even warn you.

The flight staff were swamped, passengers crowding around them, demanding answers, but Jensen didn’t care about the chaos around him. All he could think about was you—sitting in that house by the ocean, alone, probably terrified, with no way to reach him. He could see it in his mind, how you would be pacing around the house, trying to stay calm while the storm raged on outside. You hated storms. You always had.

And now, this.

He looked at the flight board, the bright red letters spelling out “CANCELED”, and felt utterly helpless. There was no way out tonight, no way to get to you. His heart hammered in his chest as he tried calling one more time, but once again, it went straight to voicemail.

Jensen clenched his phone tightly, his mind racing through all the possible options. He knew he wouldn’t be able to sit here, waiting, while the storm got worse. He needed to get to you, somehow, but there was no plan, no idea of how bad it really was back in Houston.

Meanwhile, back in the house, you stared out into the blackness beyond the window, the storm surging with more force than you could have imagined. The trees bent and cracked, the waves crashing against the shore with an almost terrifying strength. You had never felt so vulnerable. You had never felt so alone.

And Jensen, the one person you needed most, was miles away, waiting in an airport for a flight that wasn’t coming.

You pressed your hand against the cold glass, feeling the world outside crumble under the force of nature, and inside, you crumbled a little too.

The wind had reached a deafening pitch, and every gust felt like it was trying to tear the house apart. You could barely think over the sound of it—like a train barreling through, unstoppable and unforgiving. The trees outside the windows were bent almost horizontal, their branches flailing wildly in the storm’s fury. You could hear debris slamming against the house, the sharp cracks of branches breaking, and the deep, menacing roar of the ocean as the waves crashed closer and closer.

You glanced out the window and felt your blood run cold. The waves were rising—towering, dark, and violent—crashing up the shore with a terrifying force, each one creeping closer and closer to your porch. The stilts that your house rested on were supposed to protect you, but right now, even those massive beams felt fragile against the raw power of the storm.

A sudden surge of panic washed over you, stronger than any wave outside. You couldn't stay here, not with the ocean threatening to swallow everything. Your breath came faster, chest tightening as the reality of the hurricane fully hit you. This was no ordinary storm; this was the nightmare you’d always feared would come to life when you moved here. You needed to get away from the windows, away from the view of the violent ocean that made your heart pound with terror.

Without thinking, you spun on your heel and practically ran through the house, your footsteps quick and uneven as the wind rattled the walls. You headed straight for the guest room—one of the few rooms that didn’t face the ocean. It was smaller, tucked away in the corner of the house, but right now it felt like the only place that could give you even the slightest illusion of safety.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you reached the door and pushed it open, the beam of your phone trembling slightly from your shaking hands. You slammed the door behind you and leaned against it, breathing hard, trying to steady yourself. The room was dark, save for the dim glow of the phone, but at least here, you couldn’t see the ocean rising, threatening, looming.

Still, the storm raged around you, the wind howling and shaking the house. The walls creaked under the force of the gusts, and you swore you could feel the entire structure sway. The sound of the ocean never left your mind, though, the memory of those waves reaching higher and higher still vivid in your thoughts. You sank onto the edge of the bed, wrapping your arms around yourself as if you could ward off the fear creeping through your veins.

You needed Jensen. His presence would have grounded you, would have been the anchor you needed right now to feel even remotely safe. But he wasn’t here. You were alone. Alone in a house you weren’t sure could withstand the storm.

And then, the overwhelming sense of dread came crashing in again, accompanied by the helplessness of being completely cut off. No phone signal, no lights, no contact. The only thing louder than the storm outside was the storm inside you—the fear, the uncertainty, the crushing feeling of isolation.

Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the crowded airport terminal, his phone in his hands, staring at the same unchanging screen. The calls weren’t going through. He tried again, his heart thudding in his chest, each failed attempt making the knot of worry tighten further. Every time the call went straight to voicemail, it felt like a blow to his gut.

“Come on… pick up, baby”, he muttered to himself, running a frustrated hand through his hair. But still, nothing. Only that dead silence on the other end.

He felt sick. He couldn’t stop replaying the conversation from earlier in the day. He’d brushed off your fears, reassured you that it was just rain. You’d been nervous, but he had laughed it off, told you it was no big deal. “Just a little rain”, he’d said. Now, with a hurricane bearing down on Houston, those words felt like a cruel joke.

Jensen’s leg bounced anxiously as he stared at his phone, willing it to connect. He knew you were scared—he knew how much you hated storms, how even a thunderstorm would have you on edge. But this wasn’t just a thunderstorm. This was a hurricane, and you were alone, sitting in that house by the ocean, probably terrified out of your mind.

He had never felt so helpless. All the money in the world, all his connections, none of it mattered now. He was grounded, unable to fly home, stuck in a terminal while the storm raged on miles away, separating him from you. The worst part was not knowing what was happening. Were you okay? Was the house holding up? Had you found a safe place? Or were you sitting there, terrified, with no one to comfort you?

Jensen pressed the call button again, even though he knew what would happen. He didn’t care. He had to keep trying, had to do something.

When the call went to voicemail again, he groaned, leaning forward and burying his face in his hands. This was his worst nightmare. He had promised to keep you safe, to be there when you needed him, and now, in the middle of the worst storm either of you had ever faced, he was stuck a thousand miles away, powerless to help.

All he could think about was your voice, that soft quiver in it when you’d mentioned the storm earlier. He should have heard the fear in your words. He should have known. But he’d been so focused on work, so focused on getting through the day, that he hadn’t really listened.

Jensen felt the weight of his guilt pressing down on him, heavier with each failed attempt to reach you. He needed to hear your voice, needed to know you were okay. But every minute that passed felt like an eternity, and the storm was only getting worse.

He glanced up at the airport monitors, the word CANCELED in bright red letters next to his flight number. His chest tightened. He wasn’t getting out of here tonight. He wasn’t getting to you.

For the first time in a long time, Jensen felt completely powerless.

Minutes passed, each one feeling like an eternity. The wind outside had grown impossibly louder, the relentless howl of the storm wrapping itself around the house. You sat on the edge of the bed, your knees pulled up to your chest, listening to the chaos unfold outside. Then, you heard something—a deep, ominous rumbling that shook the walls, so loud and unfamiliar that it made your heart leap into your throat.

Your breath caught. What was that? You couldn’t even begin to imagine what had caused the sound, but it sent a wave of terror rushing through you. For a moment, you stayed frozen in place, every nerve in your body telling you to stay put, to not move. But curiosity, or maybe survival instinct, finally won over, and you shakily stood up, the beam of your phone barely steady in your trembling hand.

You tried to think logically—the cars. Bu both, yours and Jensen’s cars, were parked in the massive garage, safe when you had checked earlier. But now, with the storm surging stronger by the minute, you couldn’t be sure. What if the garage was already flooded? What if the rumbling had come from something hitting the house? The thought of the water rising higher, creeping into your home, made your stomach turn with dread. The waves had already reached your porch by the time you ran into the guest room, and there was no telling how much worse it had gotten since then.

You hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed toward the small window at the far end of the guest room. The wind was howling so fiercely outside that it felt like the house was swaying beneath your feet, but you had to know what was happening out there.

As you approached the window, you felt a new wave of fear wash over you. The sky was black, save for the occasional, blinding crack of lightning that tore through the clouds, illuminating the storm for a brief, horrifying second at a time. You pressed your face against the glass, trying to peer through the rain, your breath fogging up the window. But it was too dark—way too dark.

You couldn’t see anything.

Your hands were trembling as you wiped at the fog on the glass, your tears only making it harder to focus. Everything outside was a blur—dark shapes, shadows, the sound of the storm so loud. You blinked hard, trying to clear your vision, but the tears kept coming, clouding your sight. It was no use. The storm had swallowed everything.

All you wanted was to see if the other houses were still standing, to know if someone else out there was going through the same terror you were, but the storm had cut you off from everything. You were truly alone.

Your sobs came in short, ragged gasps as you turned away from the window, sliding down the wall until you were sitting on the floor, hugging your knees to your chest. The fear, the loneliness—it was suffocating. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself, but every time you closed your eyes, you saw those waves, rising higher and higher, threatening to consume everything.

Jensen’s face flashed in your mind—his voice on the phone earlier, laughing it off, telling you it was just a little rain. How you wished he was here now, his arms around you, telling you it would all be okay. But he wasn’t. He was miles away, probably sitting at the airport, just as helpless as you were, waiting for a flight that wasn’t coming. And you hated that he couldn’t reach you, hated that you couldn’t even tell him how scared you were, how much you needed him.

Back at the airport, Jensen stood from his seat, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the departure board. He tried your number again, pressing the phone to his ear as he paced back and forth near the gate. He couldn’t stay still—couldn’t stop the gnawing panic that had taken hold of him ever since the storm had escalated.

Voicemail again.

“Damn it”, he muttered under his breath, his frustration boiling over as he ended the call and tried again. The same result. He could feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to spill over into full-blown fear. You hadn’t answered in hours, and now there was no way to reach you.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up…”, he muttered to himself, his fingers tightening around the phone. He couldn’t stand this—being so far away from you when you needed him the most. All he could think about was how he’d dismissed your fear earlier, how he’d brushed off the storm as no big deal. And now? Now he’d give anything to take those words back, to tell you that he should have been more worried.

The airport was buzzing with frustrated passengers, but Jensen couldn’t focus on any of them. The only thing on his mind was you, alone in that house by the ocean, and the guilt that weighed heavily on his chest.

He tried your number one more time, holding his breath as it rang, hoping against hope that this time, you’d answer. But when the call went to voicemail again, he felt his heart sink.

You stayed awake the entire night, your body too tense, your mind too restless to even think about sleep. The sound of the storm had been relentless, the howling wind and crashing waves making it impossible to focus on anything but the raw terror building inside you. For hours, you sat on the bed, curled up in a huge blanket, staring at the window as if waiting for the next strike.

You couldn’t bring yourself to pick up a book or distract your mind with anything else. It was like your brain refused to let go of the constant anxiety, clinging to the fear of what might happen next. The storm’s roar had felt endless, and with no way to check on the outside world, you could only imagine the worst. Every thud, every creak of the house made your heart jump, and your mind raced with thoughts of what might have been happening beyond the walls.

By the time the storm began to fade, just before dawn, you were so exhausted that you didn’t even notice when your eyelids finally began to droop. The wind had quieted, the rain now a soft patter compared to the chaos from hours before. Somewhere in that stillness, you drifted off without realizing it, your body giving in to the exhaustion and fear that had kept you alert all night.

———————————

A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰

Part 2

Taglist: @blackcherrywhiskey @baby19sthings @suckitands33 @spnfamily-j2 @lyarr24 @deans-baby-momma @reignsboy19 @kawaii-arfid-memes @mekkencspony @lovziy @artemys-ackles @fitxgrld @libby99hb @lovelyvirtualperson @a-lil-pr1ncess @nancymcl @the-last-ry @spndeanwinchesterlvr @hobby27 @themarebarroww @kr804573 @impala67rollingthroughtown @deans-queen @deadlymistletoe @selfdestructionandrhum @utyblyn @winchesterwild78 @jackles010378 @chirazsstuff @foxyjwls007 @smoothdogsgirl @woooonau @whimsyfinny @freyabear @laaadygisbooornex3 @quietgirll75 @perpetualabsurdity @pughsexual @berryblues46 @deanwinchestersgirl8734 @kr804573 @spxideyver @mayafatimakhan @deansimpalababy @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

#jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles x reader #jensen x reader #jensen fucking ackles #jensen ackles the boys #jensen ackles #jensen x y/n #jensen x you #jensen ackles x female!reader #jensen ackles x y/n

239 notes · View notes

selarina · 1 year ago

Text

Synopsis: You're mad at Gojo, and he spirals.

Warnings: Mention of a fire

Getou doesn’t feel like hanging out today, but he shows up anyway — it’s routine after all, and he doesn’t want to deal with a whiny Gojo Satoru, especially since he doesn’t have you to split the burden with today.

Summoning a deep breath and exhaling slowly, Getou walks into the threshold of Satoru's house.

He looks around the house and nothing. No one.

But something felt out of place. Satoru always seems to sense when Getou walks in, and he would be out the door just as quickly as he walked in, he’d be out at this new restaurant, or this new arcade Gojo wanted to check out. But today, he's met with silence.

"Satoru?" Getou called out, his voice echoing through the cavernous house, only to be greeted by the eerie emptiness.

A tinge of panic brushes its touch against Getou's hand. "Satoru, where are you?" he called out once more.

Some rumbling and soft sounds of several thuds emanate from above him. Without hesitation, Getou ascends the stairs, driven by an insidious sense of unease.

Upon entering the library upstairs, he was met with an odd sight.

An assortment of books lay scattered across the floor, each laying at different stages of unraveling — while most of them are closed, some of them lay open — some open on the last page, some halfway through, and some open to the first page.

Then, amidst this chaos on the floor, Getou spots the white blur of hair through his peripheral vision. He turns, finding Satoru, who seems to be very intently jotting down something in a black notebook, seemingly oblivious to his presence in the room.

“Satoru, I called for you?”

Satoru looks up, caught off guard — something must be truly wrong.

“Suguru! Today’s no good. I’m busy,” he replied, his eyes immediately flitting back down to his notebook.

Getou thinks he should thread this lightly, he’s all too familiar with the boy’s ability to brush things off entirely too quickly. His eyes roved the scene �� going over the balls of discarded papers, the books, and the plate of lunch that seemed to be untouched.

"Uh," Getou began, inching closer to the boy with his hands in his pockets. He's weaving his steps across the slew of books — careful to not step on any of them. "What are you up to?"

No response at all, it’s like Suguru isn’t even here.

Suguru bends down, picking up the nearest book on the floor — an austere hardbound volume with golden lettering, bearing the title "Time Travel in Einstein's Universe." His fingers gently placed it down, only to lift another book, paper this time — it read "How to Build a Time Machine: The Real Science of Time Travel."

Standing upright, still holding the book, Getou asks, "Satoru, why are you reading about time travel? No, better question — how come you’re… reading?”

"I'm trying to time travel," Gojo replied with an unsettling nonchalance, as though he was merely discussing matters of the weather.

A few beats pass, mainly because Suguru was deciding between a simple “Why?” and a more emphatic “What the hell?”

But because Suguru is Suguru, and he’s been equipped with the art of patience, he oppted for a measured, “I don’t think you can do that.” He makes sure to punctuate his sentence with a faint chuckle.

"I need to," Satoru asserts, standing up as his eyes scan the floor for another book.

"Pretty sure no one can change time," Getou countered. "Not even us."

"We could," Satoru insisted, his voice unwavering. "Maybe—if we tried hard enough." His gaze then locks into Getou's, his conviction unwavering. “We are the strongest after all.”

Getou decides to indulge this because he’s just far too curious. "All right," he began cautiously. "Why do you need to time travel anyway?"

"You know how my partner is upset with me?" Satoru asked.

"Yeah," Getou replied, a weariness permeating his voice — he vividly recalls Satoru's relentless whining on the subject from the previous night. He eventually got the boy to shut up, only for him to start all over today morning — it’s part of the reason he didn’t feel like hanging out today, but you’ll never catch him saying this out loud.

"Well, if I reversed time," Gojo continued with an unnerving grin, "then they'd never be upset with what I did. Problem solved!"

Getou feels the sudden urge to chew on a notebook to satiate his frustration. “Are you serious?” he asks.

“Deadly.”

"Satoru," he snatched the notebook from Satoru's table—the very notebook the latter had been intently writing in. His eyes find themselves looking at a plethora of mathematic equations he doesn’t understand. He sighs, looking up at the man.

“Do you know anything that can help? Help me, please,” Satoru implored, his head bobbing fervently.

Getou thinks that this is surely the height of insanity. Surely, someone needs to lock Gojo Satoru up.

Speechless, Getou succumbs to laughter — like a total madman.

He dials it down as he notices Satoru’s escalating exasperation with him. He spoke again, “You’re an idiot. How about you actually apologize to them instead of doing… whatever this is.”

He tosses the notebook back to Satoru, who catches it with a swift, outstretched hand.

—

“Please, stop!” He rushes behind you, as Getou trails right behind him. “Stop avoiding me please or I’ll die.”

“Wow, you really are like those high-maintenance plants,” you quip as you come to a stop, finally turning to lay your eyes on the boy.

"I'm not..." He totally is.

“Glad to see you’re not too torn up about our fight since you’re out here at an arcade,” you say, sarcasm dripping to the floor beneath you, just a few more missteps, and Gojo could slip and fall everlastingly.

“No! I was very upset. Ask Getou,” he points to the man, who simply nods in tandem. He starts again, "Can we please please just talk this out? I'm really sorry."

"Oh? Are you?" you questioned, skepticism etched into your features. "Is that why you ghosted me for a whole week?"

"I got scared," he admits. "I thought you'd leave me."

“I considered that,” you reply, arms crossed.

His eyes widen, and you think he looks like a kicked puppy. But this was a serious matter, and you suppressed the urge to ruffle his hair.

"See—now I want to run away, so you never will," he whimpered. "But I won't, because I'm genuinely sorry, I mean it."

You stared at him, the genuineness in his eyes catching your weary gaze. You had been tired all week. Finally, you relented.

"Fine," you sigh. "Let's talk it out."

"Okay! Thank you baby!" he says, an immediate smile spreading across his face.

"See? I told you it's not a big deal—" Getou began, his smile mirroring Satoru's. However, he falls silent when he noticed your changing expression.

“Not a big deal?” You exclaim, clearing seething with a bubbling anger. It’s seemingly a harmless sentence but something in you must have broken down at the sound of that.

"I-I mean, it's not a big deal because I'll fix it, and everything will be fine," Satoru's voice stammers through.

"It's not all going to be just fine, Satoru. You burned down my house," you stated.

“I burned down your kitchen,” he corrects you.

“Wow, I’m sorry I don’t know why I was making such a big deal. It’s only my kitchen!” You start to chuckle, a deranged sense of amusement escaping your lips as you turn to Getou, “Do you hear that Suguru? It’s only my kitchen, he says.”

Suguru gulps, not wanting to be more involved in this than he was. He turns his head away, only now noticing that everyone’s watching the scene unfold like it’s their favorite telenovela. “Guys, maybe let’s not do this here.”

"Yeah, I was done here anyway," you declared, shooting a final glare at Satoru before making a swift exit.

Satoru immediately chased after you, throwing himself out the arcade's door.

“Baby, please!” He finally comes to grip your arm, stopping you in your tracks. You look up at him, and he notices you carry no malice really — just a weariness that shows in your tired tired eyes, he feels the urge to take you home, so he can run his hands over your eyes and put you to sleep. So he can finally sleep beside you himself.

“I’m sorry, Getou’s an idiot. It is a big deal. I never should have done that. It was obviously an accident but I was just trying to be nice, and obviously… that didn’t work out as I planned. And of course, I’ll fix the kitchen, I’ll pay for everything — even add in upgrades if you want. And before you say anything… this is on me. I should pay,” he says.

"I was going to make you pay anyway. What were you even trying to do in my kitchen?"

"Well," he began with a sheepish look on his face, almost ashamed. "It was our anniversary, and wanted to make you something."

“Why would you do that? You can barely boil rice,” you sigh, your eyes coming up to soothe your forehead.

“I-I don’t know. You mentioned how your ex-boyfriend made your food all the time when you guys were together so I thought you’d like that.”

“Yeah, well. Osamu was a chef, and you’re the opposite of that,” you replied, your arms encircling his in a soothing grip.

He sighed, gazing out at the street — his eyes staring down at the passing cars before speaking once more, “It’s not just that.”

"What then?" you inquired.

“I’m not good at this,” he confesses.

You maintained your steady gaze, urging him to continue.

“At this — Romance,” he clarifies. “I can’t do it so I’m always looking and copying others. I only leave you notes because you do that. I only give you keychains because Getou does that with his boyfriend. I only knew I had to invite you to work when Nanami mentioned it. I just—”

You hummed softly, encouraging him to continue.

“I don’t know how to love. It’s part of the reason why I even tried to cook. You’re so good at loving me, I can’t ever pay you back for it.”

“Satoru, you’re good at it too,” you say. “Just not in the ways I am, or Getou, or Nanami. You’re good at it in your own way. It’s about how you know when to order in when I’m feeling tired. It’s about how you pick out the stones I like for the keychains. It’s about how you showed up all the way to my Switzerland work trip when I was on the verge of a fucking mental breakdown. It’s about how you always draw something hideous when you leave notes knowing I’ll find it funny when I’m back from work. It’s about you trying in the first place,” you say.

"The drawings are supposed to be cute," he mumbled.

“I know you think that,” you chuckled softly. “And besides, I only leave notes because my mother did that for my father. We all learn from someone.”

A moment of silence enveloped you both, broken only by your gradual approach. “You can teach me, and I can teach you. If you let me.”

He sighed, enfolding you in a tight hug.

“Also, as much I appreciate the effort now, I hope you know you’re banned from my kitchen,” you mumble across his chest.

“Okay, I’ll learn how to cook though,” he says. “For you.”

“Okay,” you say.

2K notes · View notes

aventurineswife · 25 days ago

Note

Yes YES YES

The mmorning after, aventurine just looking at reader who is still sleeping, admiring them (and the love bites he left behind) and wondering how he got so lucky to have someone like them in his life.

Bonus points if reader when they wake up, they reach out to hold his face or ruffle his hair and sleeply call him by his real name

“You are the Reason”

Summary: In a tender morning scene, Aventurine, lies in bed with his partner, watching them sleep. As dawn light filters through the curtains, he reflects on the intimate moments they've shared and the vulnerability he feels in their presence. Their quiet exchange reveals the depth of their connection with Aventurine struggling between his chaotic life as a gambler and the desire for peace and permanence he finds in love.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Vulnerability, Redemption, Emotional Connection, You make him want to keep living 🫶, Healing, Morning Scene, Intimate.

Warnings: Mild Intimacy, Brief mention of character trauma.

A/N: HEHE!! 🤭 THIS WAS SO CUTEEE AND HONESTLY I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN!!

Inspired by and this

The dawn was soft and pale, casting delicate rays that slowly seeped through the heavy curtains. It painted the room in a golden haze, warming the shadows and quietly coaxing the world awake. Yet in the bed, wrapped in sheets and tangled with you, Aventurine had no desire to leave the comfort of your embrace. He lay beside you, propped up on one elbow, quietly admiring the sight of you at rest.

His fingers absentmindedly traced along your shoulder, his touch featherlight as he brushed over the faint love bites dotting your skin. Each mark was a reminder of the intensity they had shared, moments that lingered like a secret between you both, whispers only the two of you would understand. His gaze softened, drinking in every inch of you, from the way your hair spilled across the pillow to the peaceful rise and fall of your chest as you breathed.

For Aventurine, life had always been a gamble, a calculated series of moves and maneuvers. He had won and lost fortunes, outwitted powerful enemies, and survived odds that no one else would dare to wager on. But none of that prepared him for the risk of letting someone into his life like this—of allowing himself to be vulnerable and open. And yet, with you, it felt effortless.

He’d never thought he’d be someone who’d lie in bed simply to watch another person sleep. The irony of it was almost amusing. This was supposed to be his time for scheming, his time for planning the next strategic move. But in your presence, those plans faded into the background, dwarfed by the warmth that filled him as he gazed at you. You brought out something in him he didn’t quite recognize—a part that longed for a sense of peace and permanence in an otherwise chaotic world.

Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the subtle shift in your breathing as you began to stir. You turned toward him, eyes slowly blinking open, still heavy with sleep. He couldn’t help but smile as you looked up at him, an endearing mix of confusion and affection in your drowsy gaze. Without a word, you reached up, brushing your fingers gently against his cheek, as if to make sure he was really there.

“Kakavasha…” you murmured, barely above a whisper, using the name he rarely allowed anyone to utter. Hearing his true name, the one he kept hidden beneath the layers of his public persona, stirred something deep within him. For a man who wore masks and dealt in secrets, hearing his name on your lips felt like a balm, a reminder of who he was beneath it all.

He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, savoring the warmth of your hand against his face. Your fingers slipped into his hair, toying with the strands in a slow, lazy motion. It was such a simple gesture, yet it made his heart beat faster, filling him with a tenderness he hadn’t thought himself capable of feeling.

“Good morning.” you mumbled, your smile sleepy and soft as you brushed your thumb across his cheekbone.

“Good morning, love.” he replied, his voice low, filled with a gentleness he saved only for you. Aventurine’s hand covered yours, holding it against his cheek, reluctant to let go of this connection. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead, lingering just long enough to feel your skin warm beneath his lips.

You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer to him, your head resting against his chest. “How did I get so lucky to have you?” he mused aloud, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if the question was meant only for himself.

You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a smile that held a hint of mischief, despite the drowsiness still clouding your gaze. “Maybe the universe decided you deserved a little happiness too.” you murmured, your voice as soft as a secret.

Aventurine chuckled, the sound deep and comforting as he tightened his hold on you, drawing you closer still. He brushed his lips against your hair, inhaling the familiar scent that was unmistakably yours. “If that’s the case,” he said, his tone almost reverent, “then I must be the luckiest man alive.”

You laughed softly, the sound filling the quiet room like a melody, and he felt his heart swell at the sound. In this moment, the world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you in your shared sanctuary, wrapped in warmth and each other’s presence.

As he held you, Aventurine couldn’t help but let his thoughts drift back to all the hardships he’d endured—the losses, the betrayals, the near-misses with death. He had always believed that his life would be one long, lonely road filled with battles and clever games, where the only reward was survival itself. But here, with you in his arms, he dared to hope for more. He dared to believe that maybe, just maybe, he’d found something worth more than any gamble he’d ever taken.

“Stay with me.” he whispered, more to himself than to you, but you heard it. You reached up, placing your hand over his heart, feeling its steady beat beneath your fingers.

“Always.” you murmured, your voice a sleepy promise that felt like a vow. Your eyes began to drift shut again, and you nuzzled closer, seeking his warmth. As you nestled against him, your breathing slowly evened out, slipping back into sleep with a serene smile on your lips.

Aventurine stayed like that, watching over you, content to hold you in his arms as the morning light gradually grew brighter. The world outside was waiting, filled with challenges, schemes, and risks he would inevitably have to face. But for now, in this quiet moment, he allowed himself to simply be Kakavasha—a man deeply, irrevocably in love, willing to bet everything he had to protect the rare and precious happiness he’d found in you.

172 notes · View notes

justforjobe · 1 month ago

Text

THIN LINE , j.bellingham

──one shot

pairing ➜ jobe x fem!reader

word count ➜ 2.8k

warnings/notes ➜ angst.

summary ➜ what happens when the kisses start feeling too real, when the touches linger a little too long? are friends with benefits ever just that?

you're sitting on the edge of jobe's bed, your legs dangling off the side, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, trying to keep your breathing steady.

you've been here a million times before, in this room, on this bed, with him. the routine is familiar, almost comforting in the way it's just so predictable—the way he texts you late at night, the way you show up, the way things just happen between you two.

but tonight, something feels different, heavier, like there's an unspoken tension hanging in the air, thick enough to choke on.

you can feel his eyes on you, watching you with that quiet intensity he always has, and it's enough to make your skin tingle, your heart beat a little faster. but you don't dare look at him, not yet, because you know that if you do, if you meet his gaze, you'll lose whatever fragile hold you have on your emotions right now.

he's sitting across from you, on the other side of the bed, his back against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. his shirt is off, discarded somewhere on the floor, and you can see the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, steady, calm. you wish you could say the same for yourself, but your mind is racing, a thousand thoughts all colliding at once, none of them making any sense.

this was supposed to be simple.

it was supposed to be easy.

you and jobe, no strings, no complications, just... fun. and it was, at first. you'd known each other for a while, ran in the same circles, always flirted a bit more than friends probably should. so when it finally happened, when you finally crossed that line, it felt natural, like the most logical next step. and it was good. really good. better than you expected. so you kept doing it, kept meeting up, kept falling into bed together.

but somewhere along the way, things started to shift. the lines started to blur. and now, you're not sure where you stand anymore, not sure what any of this means. because somewhere in between all the stolen moments, the late-night texts, the way he looks at you when he thinks you're not paying attention—you started to feel things. real things. things you're not supposed to feel when the deal was no feelings, no attachment.

and now, you're here, on his bed, heart pounding in your chest, wondering how the hell you got yourself into this mess.

"you okay?" jobe's voice cuts through the silence, low and smooth, laced with just a hint of concern.

you force yourself to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and you feel that familiar flutter in your stomach, the one that always hits you whenever he's this close.

he's watching you, his expression unreadable, but there's something in his eyes, something soft, something you can't quite name, that makes your breath catch in your throat.

"yeah," you lie, your voice barely above a whisper. "i'm fine."

but you're not fine, and you know it, and you think maybe he knows it too, because his gaze doesn't waver, doesn't move from yours, like he's trying to read the thoughts you're so desperately trying to hide.

he shifts slightly, pushing himself off the headboard, and suddenly he's closer, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off his skin, close enough that the scent of him—something clean and warm and distinctly jobe—fills your senses, makes your head spin.

"you sure?" he asks again, softer this time, like he's trying to coax the truth out of you.

you swallow hard, your throat tight, because you want to tell him. you want to tell him everything that's been swirling around in your head, the way your heart skips a beat whenever he touches you, the way you find yourself thinking about him when you shouldn't be, the way this whole thing has stopped feeling casual and started feeling like something more.

but you can't. you can't risk it. can't risk ruining whatever this is, whatever fragile thing you've built together.

"yeah," you say again, the word feeling heavy on your tongue, like a lie you're not quite ready to admit to.

he doesn't say anything for a long moment, just looks at you, his eyes searching yours, and you think maybe he's going to call you out on your bullshit, maybe he's going to push you to tell him what's really going on. but then he just nods, like he's accepting your answer, even though you both know it's not the truth.

"come here," he says, his voice gentle, his hand reaching out to you, palm open, inviting.

and you want to. God, you want to. you want to fall into his arms, let him hold you, let him kiss away all the doubts and fears that have been eating away at you. but you hesitate, because you know where this is going, you know how this ends, and you're not sure you can handle it. not tonight.

but then he's looking at you with those eyes, those stupid, beautiful eyes, and you know you're done for. you're always done for when it comes to him.

so you take his hand, let him pull you closer until you're right there, pressed against him, his arms wrapping around you, holding you tight. and it feels good, it feels right, and for a moment, you let yourself forget everything else, let yourself just be here, in this moment, with him.

his hand slides up your back, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin, and it sends a shiver down your spine, makes your breath hitch in your throat. he leans in, his lips brushing against your neck, soft, warm, and you feel that familiar pull, that overwhelming need to be closer, to lose yourself in him.

but just as his lips find yours, just as the kiss deepens, something inside you snaps, and suddenly it's too much, too real, too everything. you pull back, breaking the kiss, your chest heaving as you try to catch your breath, try to steady yourself.

"what's wrong?" he asks, his voice laced with concern, his hand still resting on your back.

you take a shaky breath, your mind racing, because you know you can't keep doing this, can't keep pretending like this is just some casual thing when it feels like anything but.

"jobe..." you start, your voice trembling, and you hate how vulnerable you sound, how exposed you feel.

he tilts his head, his eyes searching yours, and you can see the worry there, the confusion, and it makes your heart ache, makes you want to take it all back, pretend like everything's fine, like you're fine. but you're not, and you can't keep lying to yourself, can't keep lying to him.

"you need to stop kissing me like you mean it," you say finally, the words tumbling out before you can stop them, before you can think them through.

he blinks, taken aback, his brows furrowing in confusion. "what?"

you close your eyes for a moment, trying to find the courage to say what you need to say, even though it feels like it's going to tear you apart.

"you need to stop kissing me like you mean it," you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper. "because i'm going to read into things wrong and end up breaking my own heart."

there's a heavy silence that follows, the weight of your words hanging in the air between you, and you can feel your chest tightening, your heart pounding in your ears as you wait for his response, as you wait for the other shoe to drop.

"y/n..." he starts, his voice soft, hesitant, like he's not sure what to say, not sure how to fix this.

"i know we said no feelings, no attachment," you continue, your voice shaky, your eyes fixed on the floor, because you can't bear to look at him, can't bear to see whatever expression is on his face right now. "but i can't help it, jobe. every time you kiss me like that, every time you look at me like i'm the only person in the world that matters, i start to think that maybe... maybe this could be something more. and i know it's not supposed to be. i know that. but it doesn't stop me from wanting it."

he's silent, and it's killing you, the not knowing what he's thinking, what he's feeling. because this is it. this is the moment where everything either falls apart or... or you don't even know what. but you know that you can't take it back, you can't unsay the words that have already been spoken, can't pretend like you don't feel the way you do.

and now you can't bring yourself to look up, the weight of what you've just said sinking into the air between you. you can feel jobe's presence beside you, the way his breath has slowed, almost as if he's holding it in, waiting for the right words to come out. but nothing comes. just silence, thick and suffocating, like the room is shrinking around you.

"i'm sorry," you mutter, because what else can you say? you've just bared your heart in the most vulnerable way, laid it all out there, and now you're left with nothing but the unbearable tension of the unknown.

finally, after what feels like forever, you dare to glance up at him. his eyes are fixed on you, brows furrowed in a way that makes your stomach twist with anxiety.

he looks conflicted, like he’s caught in a battle with himself, trying to figure out how to say something he doesn’t fully understand. his brows are drawn together, lips pressed into a thin line, and his eyes are swimming with a feeling you can’t quite name. it’s not pity, thank God, but it’s not exactly reassurance either. it’s somewhere in the middle, something that makes you want to lean in and pull away at the same time.

“y/n,” he says your name so softly that it nearly breaks you. the way it slips from his lips, careful, like he’s afraid of shattering what little strength you have left. “i never wanted to make you feel like this.”

you blink back the tears that are so damn close to spilling over, biting down hard on your bottom lip because if you don’t, you might lose it right here. but it’s not his fault, not really. you were the one who let things get out of hand, who started reading too much into every lingering look, every touch, every kiss that left your heart pounding.

“i know,” you whisper, forcing yourself to look away, to stare at anything but him. “i just… i don’t know how to do this anymore, jobe. it was supposed to be simple. and now… now it’s just a mess.”

he’s silent, and the quiet makes it worse, makes the ache in your chest tighten. because even now, even with all of this hanging in the air between you, your heart still longs for him. you still want him to pull you close, to tell you that everything’s going to be okay, that he feels the same way you do. but you know better. you know that’s not how this is going to go.

“what do you want me to do?” he asks eventually, and there’s a sadness in his voice, like he’s trying to find a way to fix this without hurting either of you more. “you wanna stop? we can stop. if this is hurting you—”

“no,” you cut him off, shaking your head before he can finish that thought, because the idea of stopping, of not having him in your life at all, feels unbearable. “i don’t want to stop, jobe. i just… i don’t know what i want.”

it’s the truth. the messy, complicated truth. you don’t know what you want, because you can’t imagine not having him around, but you also can’t keep doing this—can’t keep putting your heart on the line every time he touches you, every time he kisses you like he means it, only to act like it’s nothing the next day.

he lets out a breath, his shoulders sagging, and for the first time, he looks just as lost as you feel. “i care about you, y/n,” he says, his voice low and filled with sincerity. “i’m sorry. i thought—” he pauses, shaking his head, regret lacing every word. “i don’t know what i thought. i just never meant for it to get this complicated.”

you force a weak smile, even though it feels like your chest is caving in. “things like this always get complicated, jobe. that’s just… how it goes.”

he reaches out then, his hand cupping your chin gently, turning your face toward his so you have no choice but to meet his eyes. and there it is again—that look. the one that makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world, like you mean more to him than he’s willing to say. it’s the look that makes you question everything, makes you wonder how this can’t be more than what it is. how he can look at you like this and not feel the same things you do.

“look,” he says softly, his thumb brushing across your cheek in a way that makes your heart stutter, makes it impossible not to lean into his touch. “we don’t have to figure it all out right now. we can just… take it one step at a time, yeah? whatever you need, whatever you wanna do, we’ll do that.”

and there it is. the thing that both comforts and destroys you all at once. he’s giving you a way out, offering you a chance to keep him in your life, but not in the way you want. not in the way that matters. because you don’t just want him around when the nights get lonely, when you both need someone to hold onto. you want more. and you know, deep down, that’s not something he can give you, no matter how much you wish he could.

but you nod anyway. because it’s easier. because you’re too tired to keep fighting, and the thought of losing him completely feels like more than you can bear.

“okay,” you say, though the word feels empty, foreign in your mouth, like you’re already bracing yourself for what’s to come.

he pulls you into his arms then, holding you close, and you let him, sinking into the warmth of him because it’s easier to pretend, even if just for a little while. easier to believe that maybe, somehow, you’ll be able to handle this. that maybe you won’t end up with your heart in pieces again.

but deep down, you already know the truth. you’ve crossed a line, and there’s no going back. no matter how much you try to keep things light, to keep things from getting messy, you’ve already fallen too far. and the thing about falling is that, eventually, you hit the ground.

you stay there, wrapped up in each other, the silence thick with all the things you’re both too scared to say. maybe this is just how it’ll always be—a series of almosts, of things left unsaid, of feelings too tangled to ever make sense of.

and as much as it hurts, as much as it’s tearing you apart from the inside, you’ll take it. you’ll take whatever pieces of him he’s willing to give, even if it means breaking your own heart over and over again.

because when it comes to jobe, you’ve never been good at walking away.

#jobe bellingham #jobe bellingham x reader #jobe bellingham x you #jobe bellingham fanfiction #jobe bellingham oneshot #jobe bellingham angst #jobe bellingham x black reader

154 notes · View notes

strawbeelemonade · 1 year ago

Note

We need more of spider punk❤️❤️❤️

ROMANTIC HEADCANNONS (Part 2!): Hobart brown

GIF by fizzytoo

SO many requests for this guy,,, i hope you like!

🕷 - hobbie likes watching you stand up for yourself.

🕷 - he knows you have spunk, no matter how deep down, it’s there.

🕷 - it thrills him to see you fight back, fills him with satisfaction. He will back you up in a heartbeat, no matter what it is he will fight with you and for you.

🕷 - he’ll fall back to back with you, you won’t have to worry when fighting along side him, let yourself go and spread CHAOS. He’s got your back

🕷 - he’s very deep thinking. He values your morals, your conviction and who you are in the face of hardships.

🕷 - He thinks real hard about what he chooses to put his faith in. And that includes you.

🕷 - he trusts you with his life.

🕷 - he’s a bit of a wanderer. There isn’t really a reliable routine he follows, so you might go a little while without seeing him.

🕷 - but don’t worry, he’ll always come back to you. He won’t leave you lonely for too long, gorgeous.

🕷 - he’ll pay you random visits just because!

🕷 - and by that I mean he’ll let himself in.

🕷 - its not uncommon for him to show up in the middle of the night, and if your not asleep, he offers to sneak you out for a few hours of fun.

🕷 - It’s alright, beautiful/handsome, there’s no safer place then by his side.

🕷 - If you live here, you’ll know that the UK can get pretty cold, especially at night. he’ll lend you his jacket if he catches you shivering

🕷 - Hobie will take you to concerts. You’re his first choice.

🕷 - he’s got a lot of connections and he can get you in easily.

🕷 - if you think he is anywhere other than right in the front then you are CRAZY. and he wants you right there with him.

🕷 - the music is so loud it’ll shoot through your chests, filling both your senses. sharing that exhilaration with you means a lot to him.

🕷 - he keeps you close to him the whole time, and makes sure you don’t get too roughed up by the other people around you.

🕷 - If it all gets too much don’t worry, he knows a cushy spot in the rafters away from all the people, and its a great view.

🕷 - when Hobie’s the one on stage he’ll be looking for you in the crowd

🕷 - he plays better when your there

🕷 - knowing your eyes are on him makes him more bold.

🕷 - don’t take your eyes off of him. Don’t you dare look away. He wants to see your face.

🕷 - he’s on the run a lot, so he’ll need to crash at your place often to lay low.

🕷 - “thanks, doll. I knew you wouldn’t mind.”

🕷 - if you play guitar he will play solo’s with you

🕷 - if you don’t know how to play he’ll sit behind you and rest his hands over your own, pressing your fingers into the right chords.

🕷 - his chest pressing in to your back are the least of your worries, though. His breathe is hot and his lips are soft. And, oh! your cheek and jaw, which are his favourite places to kiss, are completely exposed.

🕷 - good luck.

🕷 - he’ll give you piggy back rides.

🕷 - wrap your arms around him as tightly as you want. He doesn’t mind. his hair might tickle your face as he turns his head to give you a peck on the cheek, though.

🕷 - when you both sleep next to each other you won’t have to worry about his hair getting in your face. He’ll wear a wrap.

🕷 - his hair is NICE in the movie. those wicks were P R I S T I N E

🕷 - if you play with the little baby hairs poking out from the bundle then he’ll be all over you I bet he’d love that.

🕷 - if he loses his wrap then he might use his mask in a pinch. It’d be really fun if the inside was lined with silk just to keep his hair nice.

🕷 - If he sleeps in that then your gonna have to put something on the spikes to stop them from poking you 😭

🕷 - "nah fam i am not sticking marhsmellows on my head."

🕷 - Honk shoo

🕷 - he will pierce you ears for you.

🕷 - he knows how to sew. mending clothes are more cost effective, and punks have been DIYing outfits since the very beginning.

🕷 - if you don't know how, he can hem or mend your clothes. like i don't he he knows just surface level knowledge either. Hobbie is IN the sewing community

🕷 - he'd get zesty with it too!

🕷 - yeah, he could sew your clothes to look good as new, but have you seen visible decorative mending? there are so many ways to get creative with mending- his personality would really shine through in his work.

🕷 - your favourite pair of jeans that used to have a hole in the knee are now fixed, but with am embroidered spider web spriraling outwards.

🕷 - this is an example of how incredibly thoughtful he is. he spends lots of time and love to turn something broken into something new. and thats one of the ways he'll show you he loves you.

🕷 - you won't really ever be questioning if he loves you though.

🕷 - he's blunt. he'll let you know.

🕷 - tee hee

🕷 - Hobart doesn’t really get Jealous.

🕷 - But he LOVES rubbing your relationship in any clueless suitor’s face when he gets the chance.

🕷 - after watching the movie I am 100% certain that he is willing to clock someone over the head for you.

🕷 - intimidation tactics work great to ward off most creeps. But some people need a demonstration.

🕷 - his hand will snake around your lower tummy or waist, and he pulls you flush against himself

🕷 - he’d lean down to whisper “is this one bothering you?”. Real quietly so no one else can hear.

🕷 - if your friends with Hobart, your friends with Pavitr.

🕷 - and if your dating Hobart, then your basically gonna date him too LMAO

🕷 - Pav thinks you're both so cute! You have his full support. He is INVESTED. The moment he sees you after rough housing with Hobie he gasps! Hello you!

🕷 - he’s all over you.

🕷 - Pav thinks you’re a sweetheart. If Hobie isn’t there you can count on him to have your back.

🕷 - I’ve said this before but he’s canonically got a good read on people, and that’s probably especially so for his best friend.

🕷 - and so he sees how happy you make him. Pav absolutely treasures you.

🕷 - Chances are you'll end up getting close with Gwen too! she stays over in other universes since her situation back in her own isn't great. you guys end up hanging out because of it and ya'll grow close.

#spider man #across the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #into the spiderverse #into the spider verse #spiderman x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobart brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #spiderpunk #hobie brown #into the spiderverse x reader #across the spiderverse x reader #itsv #itsv x reader #atsv #atsv hobie #atsv x reader

1K notes · View notes

eevees-hobbies · 5 months ago

Note

Just hear me out… you already having a baby w the bofurin and shishitoren boys (loml big dick Togame) and saying “our baby is so cute, i want another one” and they’re like “yeah? you want me to give you another baby?” And then boom they’re fucking another baby into you 🤭 (nobody look at me PLS)

Author’s Note: Part of the “Let That Man Breed You 2024” campaign!

Content Warning: TW: Pregnancy. TW: Sexualization of the Pregnant Body. TW: Body Changes As a Result of Pregnancy. Heavy breeding kink, lactation fetish, Togame likes you dependent on him while you’re pregnant. He calls you mama. Getting your brains fucked out, mention of creampie. And as always, every pregnancy is different, and your mileage may vary! Minors Do Not Interact.

Word Count: 1.2K

Babies can be fairly precarious things. They consume your life as soon as you conceive them, taking up real estate in your womb, wreaking havoc on your senses, and using your bladder as their personal trampoline. And when they’re born? You eat, sleep, and breathe “baby” because “baby” is your new way of life.

But do you know what else babies are good at? When they look at you with big, bright eyes, squeezing your finger in their small, delicate hand, and giving you a sweet giggle, they are remarkably good at convincing you that those sleepless nights weren’t so bad. Witching hour? More like party hour! Foul-smelling diapers? You don’t need your sense of smell anyway!

Beautiful black curls, chubby cheeks, and doe-sized emerald green eyes are to blame for the position you’re in–literally and figuratively speaking, of course.

You found yourself turning to Togame after putting your little one to sleep, your mouth already moving before your brain could truly comprehend the weight of your words: “He’s so cute, Jo. I want to make another one.”

Famous last words and all that.

And that’s why you’re now bent over, face-down, and ass perched as high as a back arch will allow in front of the mirror in your shared bedroom with Togame’s cock buried so deep inside your cunt that your eyes are watering.

“Mmm, you want me to put another baby in you, mama?”

You bite your lip, hiccuping through the intensity of him stirring your guts, and give him a nod. You can see his face in the reflection of the mirror—he’s brandishing his signature lazy, half-smile, but his eyes are as if in a trance as they sweep over your body, admiring the way your juicy cunt swallows his cock with each hard backshot he delivers. His cock-head is repeatedly bullying the spot that makes you cry out with each thrust, feeling so good that your thighs have been trembling since you both started and show no sign of stopping anytime soon.

“Y-yeah, baby! W-wanna girl this time!”

He grunts, his hand grabbing a fistful of your ass and not regretting being rough in the slightest as each plea, demand, whimper, grunt, and whine he elicits from you only makes him more entranced.

He loves how you ask—and beg—for him to breed you. Togame had always considered himself a simple man. Kinks? Eh, he had preferences, sure, and certain things got him more riled up than most, but he became a changed man as soon as you became pregnant with his son.

It makes him a different, less in-control being thinking about your belly growing round again, the cute waddle that you’ll develop because you can’t see your feet, and this is one of the more critical and selfish reasons, but he loves that you’ll need him for absolutely everything.

“Togame, help me stand up.”

“Ugh, Togame, please help me tie my shoe.”

“Togame, need yoooooou.”

And while none of those reasons may be sexual in nature–maybe the desire for your dependency on him might be, but that’s an analysis for a different day–there are sexual fantasies and kinks that he is able to live out while you’re carrying his child.

He loves having you ride him, fully pregnant, as you bounce on his dick. At first, you were hesitant to do so, scared that the added weight of the additional human housed inside you would be too much, but he simply grabbed your hand and guided your wrist to his mouth, where he placed a trail of soft, languid kisses.

“You don’t need to worry about any of that. Now, ride me, pretty girl.”

And when you finally got out of your own head? Trivial thoughts about your new body vanished because how can anyone focus with 9 inches of cock buried inside of them? Definitely not you!

Togame looked up at you and swore that if he died at that moment, he might not be too upset about it. His hands cupping your already swollen and heavy breasts as you grip and grind at his cock is the closest he’s ever felt to cumming inside of you faster than he ever thought possible.

“Baby,” he coos, “you’re doing so good bouncin’ on my dick, but say the word, and I’ll take over.”

He loves how wide your hips have gotten after carrying and birthing your first child, his hands always somehow finding a way to squeeze you there, even in public. People have to look away because when he does it, it feels so intimate and laced with a sexual undertone.

He just can’t help it because, fuck, does motherhood look good on you.

And Togame absolutely loses his mind when you come to him, wincing in pain because the baby didn’t drink enough of your milk, so now your breasts are rock-hard, and you need relief.

“Please help me, Togame,” you whimper, voice straining to fully verbalize what you need, so you raise your hands to your chest and gently motion to your breasts.

And to Togame, the sight is glorious; your breasts struggling to fit in your shirt and nipples managing to leak breast milk even through your padded bra? If only you knew the unholy thoughts that flow in this man’s head when you come to him in such a vulnerable state.

He’d rest his head in your lap, looking up at your darkened nipples, surrounded by a puffy areola, the tip now flowing with droplets of thick, fresh breast milk. He’ll latch his mouth around the sensitive bud, sucking in mouthfuls while his other hand squeezes the other neglected nipple, streams of milk squirting out as you run your fingers through his hair.

“Thank you, baby, that feels so good.”

And he loves the way people ogle your big belly in public as they can’t help but stare because even in the womb, Togame gives you big babies. He loves knowing that they’re thinking about him stuffing you full of his seed, creampieing you an insurmountable amount of times to get you so round, so big, so sexy.

“Don’t worry, mama. I got ya’ I know exactly what you need.”

He delivers hard smacks to your ass, making the fat of it ripple and bounce against him as he presses his palm on your shoulder and pushes you down, your cheek now buried in the plush rug on your floor as Togame bends a long leg at your side to give him better leverage.

As your mind goes blank, and a sliver of drool escapes the corner of your mouth because god, he’s so deep, and even as you try and shift under him, the hand on your shoulder is unwavering.

“Now, now, mama. This is what you wanted, right? What you asked for? Just relax for me, and I’ll do allllll the work.”

Everything about him is just so big, his frame, his 9 inches of thick cock, and his heavy balls. It’s just so much! But you have to take it all if you want him to give you another baby.

And to Togame, you look so good like this—ethereal even—fucked out on his cock that’s drilling into you, heavy tits squished against the floor, and so willing to take everything he has to offer you.

“Mmm, here it comes, mama. Ya ready for your first load of the night?”

“Gonna give you that baby girl I promised.”

“You lookin’ at yourself in the mirror, baby? Get a good look cuz you’ll be knocked up and swollen in a few months.”

@taytebby Delivery!

#tw: breeding #tw: pregnancy #tw: body image #jo togame x reader #jo togame #wind breaker #windbreaker smut #request #jou togame x reader #togame smut

251 notes · View notes

secret-smut-sideblog · 7 months ago

Text

Heavy Metal Lover

Karlach x F! Tav

18+ physical combat (consensual), so much teasing, public sex (kind of), manhandling, roughness, restraint, dom karlach/sub tav, strength kink, hand kink, size difference, fingering (f!), grinding, light choking, overstimulation, porn w/o plot

With her touch newly returned, Karlach is hungry for contact. Seeking out Tav for a little hand to hand combat that quickly turns heated...

Masterlist

Tav resisted rolling her eyes at Astarion's wide grin. That face meant only one thing, he was about to be insufferable about something.

"What?" She sighed, resigned to the incoming teasing.

"You haven't noticed, have you?" He purred, an indulgent edge of pre-emptive preening in his voice.

"Obviously not, if you're being this unbearable." She sniped flatly, turning back to hanging laundry on tip toes.

He slid his foot under the arch of her heel, biting at her teasingly when she turned to give him a glare. Baring her own absent fangs.

"Look real close now..." He pointed across camp to Karlach. She was trying to talk Wyll into sparring with her, him trying to wave her away good naturedly.

Tav roved her eyes over the tall muscular body, pushing the slow creep of lust aside to focus on any changes.

She was starting to get frustrated, suddenly sure that Astarion was just fucking with her again, trying to get her to ogle their companion.

That's when she caught it. Two newly rounded talons on her right hand, pointer and middle finger.

Tav sucked in an involuntarily breath, lips falling open. All higher thinking pulled from her mind.

"Eager, isn't she?" Astarion crooned, jolting Tav back. His voice far too knowing for her taste as he hovered behind her.

"It's only been one night since she's gotten touch back, I admire her ambition."

Knowing his hands were clasped behind his back in that leaning way he always does.

Karlach's eyes caught Tav's, waving excitedly. Like they hadn't been together all day, rocking on the balls of her feet happily.

Tav groaned, heart jelly.

"Oh," Astarion lilted out a laugh. "She's got it bad for you."

"Wait, really?" Tav turned to him, clothespin in hand. Her snarky play falling back for a moment in genuine confusion.

Astarion tilted his head at her, his demeanor falling back in kind. "Seriously? Gods, Tav, you really are unobservant."

"Hey, it's not that I don't pay attention. I'm just blind to when it's aimed at me." She huffed, crossing arms.

"Oh, I know. I'm still amazed that you were blindsided to Gale's pining."

He relented when Tav threw her arms up in frustration.

"Ah, ah, okay. You're just blind to your own suitors, we'll agree. So trust me as an objective pair of eyes. That tower of muscle wants you. Badly."

"Oh, and here she comes now!" Astarion giggled, trapezing away on delighted feet. "Good luck with your new knowledge, darling!"

"Someone wants to go hungry tonight!" She threatened after him. Him giving her a little twirl.

"Uh-oh, you two are always at each other's throats." Karlach laughed, watching him go with fond eyes. "Literally."

"Oh, we were just playing." Tav assured, returning to hanging sheets.

"What's up, Karlach?" She asked, back on tip toes. Smoothing hands over the pleats, stretching up to pin the fabric down.

Karlach grabbed the clothespin from her hands easily, pinning it above her natural reach.

"Oh! Thank you!" Tav squeaked. Trying not to give the height difference between them any thought at all.

"Well, no one will spar with me." Karlach pouted. Her eyes starting to swim with tears that she brushed away with angry fingers. Huffing out a steadying breath, smiling down at Tav.

"But I think you might be under my weight class, might be an unfair fight to ask you."

Tav's heart thrilled.

"I mean... I am stronger than I look."

This was true. She was eyeline with mostly chests, but she could pull some weight. Hells she's carried unconscious Gale over her shoulders several times now in the heat of battle.

Huh. Okay, his crush on her makes sense.

"I would love to spar with you, Karlach." She smiled, handing her up another sheet to hang.

"Really?!" Karlach bunched the fabric in her hands in excitement.

"Oh, whoops." She shook out the fabric, giving it one hard flick of her wrist. The fabric snapping in the air.

Tav let out a little involuntarily moan, then clapped her hand over her mouth. Gods below, what was that...

"You okay, soldier? Felling up to it?"

"Yeah, just.. uh, a little woozy." She tapped the side of her neck where the given pinpricks lay.

"You know, now that I'm touchable again, I wouldn't mind giving you a break some nights. Mama K's got a lot of blood to give."

Tav saw a silver head pop up in her peripheral.

"Ah, I'm alright." Tav flapped her hands in an affable way. "Though something tells me our favorite leech might start circling now."

"He's a hungry boy, we gotta keep him big and strong!" Karlach laughed.

"Okay, big and strong, I'll see you tonight." Tav teased.

Karlach's tail curled up, arching at the base. Her cheekbones heating.

"Okay... Well. Bye..." She sighed, turning and walking in a forced casualty that even Tav could clock.

Astarion's mouth had fallen open, hand hovering over his jaw. When he caught Tav's gaze, he pointed to where a tail would be on his body. Raising his eyebrows in salacious glee.

Tav didn't know much about tiefling tail etiquette but could glean enough from his pantomiming. Her own cheeks warming as she stomped at him to quit it, only fueling the bouncing suppressed laughter in his shoulders.

Initially, several of their companions had agreed to sit ringside. But as the day wore endlessly on with sun bearing down, most of them either decided to retire early or wade into the cool river with a few bottles of wine.

"Don't take too long..." Astarion sing-songed over his shoulder, a wine bottle hanging loose from his fingertips.

"Oh! Wait!" Tav called, standing and meeting him in the middle. Unbuckling the strap on the dagger at his hip, taking the bottle from his fingers and uncorking it with her teeth.

"Ugh, don't do that. You'll ruin your teeth." He chided, angling his hip for her to pull the dagger free.

"Shush." She cut into the back of her hand, dripping it into the rim of the thick glass. Swirling slowly.

He took his dagger back with a spin of fingers, seating it back with an unconscious flourish.

"Say when." She flexed her hand, encouraging more flow.

"Is never an option?"

"No, unless you want to get punched again."

"Gods, you do have a mean hook." He rubbed his jaw in memory.

"Alright fine. That's plenty." Leaning forward, he licked the stem of blood until it slowed to a stop.

"You know that only closes your wounds, right? Or I'd put you to use as a cleric on the battlefield."

He sighed dreamily. "Oh, it would be delicious. But very uncharitable motivation, I assure you."

"Well, best be off." He eyed the approaching tiefling with a mischievous twinkle. "Thank you, my darling."

She kissed his cheek. "No problem, have fun."

He waved over his shoulder as he departed, Karlach coming to Tav's side.

"Aw, you two are so cute together."

"Oh, we're not together." Tav laughed, the thought strange. "He reminds me of so many of my siblings."

"So many?" Karlach laughed. "Wait, how many do you have?"

"Entirely too many." Tav huffed, unconsciously settling into that authoritative posture she used with them.

"Aw, man. I want too many!" Karlach clicked her tongue. "Ah, well. Can't win 'em all."

"Speaking of, prepared to lose?" Tav teased, rolling her shoulders back.

"Oh, ho," Karlach laughed, settling back into a crouch. "Bring it on, babe."

Tav widened her stance, rolling her arm back in a curved elbow. Loosening her neck.

"Ready?" Tav hummed, balanced on the heels of her feet.

"Very." Karlach urged, fingers flexing.

"Then come get me." Tav smiled.

Karlach lunged forward, trying to sweep her leg.

Tav picked up her feet, ducking around her. Dodging another hand reaching for her wrist.

She laughed as she planted a foot to stand on Karlach's crouched hip. Using her shoulder as a hold to step up, swinging around her back to put her in a headlock. Hand pushing into her throat.

"Choking, huh?" She chided.

Karlach kneeled down abruptly, slamming her back into the ground.

Tav released, the air taken out of her. Still trying to lock her legs around Karlach's thighs.

"Oh, come on," Karlach laughed, prying her legs open with her hands. Her shoulder muscles rippling with exertion.

Tav's mouth fell open at the sight and sensation. Even with the full strength of her thighs, Karlach split her like cleaved wood.

Karlach turned and pinned her thighs open between her own, sitting on her pelvis.

"Hah!... Hey, why'd you stop?"

Tav's eyes darted down to the position they were pushed into.

Karlach paused, looking down as well.

"Oh..."

Neither moved, both huffing with exertion.

A stand still, the air charged with tension. Thighs straddled criss cross, their centers pressed together.

Tav tried not to moan, just the heat coming from her core pulling slick from her.

All it would take is one of them moving their hips.

Karlach looked down at her with blown out eyes, a desperate hunger, near anger, pulling her face slack. One hand gripping into Tav's propped thigh, starting to rock her hips.

"Gods, this heat!" Gale exclaimed, emerging from his tent. Fanning himself with a thin tome, heading towards the water.

Karlach flipped Tav up by the hips, pulling her up into a more appropriate position kneeling next to her. Tav squeaked, being manhandled so easily sending another wave of arousal to her lust dumb mind.

Gale turned towards them, unaware. "Oh! Are you guys coming too? I wouldn't mind the company on the walk."

"Absolutely!" Karlach called, giving Tav a questioning raise of her eyebrows.

"Oh! Uh, yeah! I'd love to hear about that." She pointed to the tome he was holding.

Rising to feet, led by Karlach's hand. Another shock of arousal as she stared at the mesmerizing sight, curled around hers with its diabolically implicit fingernails.

Gods above and below help her.

Gale chattered excitedly ahead as they walked, and Tav was really trying to listen. Truly, she was. But Karlach was walking just behind her, a hand flat against her lower back. The spread of fingers absurd, so wide it made her knees weak. Thumb rubbing mind numbing arcs into the sensitive skin.

Through the haze of her lust she managed a few well timed sounds of affirmation, trying to focus on silly things like words.

Oh, what fresh hells had she unleashed. Feeling Karlach's wide smile behind her. Enjoying tormenting her so innocently. Wanting to swat her away and lean in as hard as possible at the same time.

After an eternity, they reached the water. The gentle swell and lapping mockingly peaceful, moon ribboned and dark. Their companions gathered, floating conversation and passing wine.

Gale sat on the dock, rolling his sleep pants up to the calf. Dipping legs in with a deep sigh.

"Not getting in, Gale?" Karlach remarked in gentle disappointment. Fingers slipping inside of Tav's waistband behind her.

Tav breathed out a fast breath through nose, stomping her foot just slightly. Sliding the movement into shifting her weight casually.

"Ah, too much skin for present company." He smiled, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. Eyes darting to Tav, then quickly away.

"But don't let me discourage you. Go on, enjoy the water in all it's glory."

"Well, what do you think, Tav?" Karlach asked in a deceptively neutral voice.

As she was about to respond, Karlach pulled her fingers taut into her waistband, snapping it against her lower back. Covering the sound with a cough.

A rush of wetness pooling in her underclothes, she hissed out a quiet threat. Karlach's fingers grazing her skin, a quivering of contained laughter in the chest she stepped back into.

"I think that's a great idea. If you'll pardon us Gale?"

She didn't wait to get his response, pulling Karlach in her wake. Her low laugh slipping out as she was led, Tav in a fast stomp, Karlach in an easy wide stride. Long legs not having to rush at all to keep up.

Tav was about to turn to lay into her when a wide hand caught around the front of her throat. Another pushing flat against her lower belly. Both burning hot.

Her breath caught, leaning head back as those fingers splayed up her neck. Sharp talons pressing into the underside of her jaw.

"I wasn't done back there." Her voice all gravel. Pressing the words into the side of her head, heat pressing into her back. The expanse of muscle a heavy presence behind her.

Tav whimpered, twisting to look behind them to gauge how close they were to the group.

"Nothing important back there, baby." She laughed, pulling Tav's chin forward with a force belieing her easy words.

"Gods, Tav," She sighed, voice all heat again. Fingers sliding down the front of her waistband, long fingers traveling a short distance quickly. "I've been so hungry to fuck you."

Tav moaned a little whine at the vulgarity, knees buckling in earnest. Karlach's own knee pushed into hers, forcing her down into an open kneel. Her large body enveloping behind, thighs encircling around hers.

Her fingers strained against the fabric for a few seconds before she huffed out a frustrated breath. Hands gripping up onto Tav's hips, pulling her up onto her belly, wrenching her leggings down onto her knees, then seating her back onto knees with barely an effort.

"There, that's better." She said decidedly. Tav delirious with lust from being handled like a five pound weight.

Karlach's fingers found her center again with a happy hum. Rounded fingertips pushing inside her with no further pretense. Tav bucking at the sudden introduction.

Karlach's other hand came back up to spread along her throat, pressing down just hard enough to make her moan. Long fingers thrusting slow thigh shaking pleasure into her. Her hips rocking into the hilt of her palm.

"Fuck, you're so tight around my fingers." Karlach hissed, rising on one knee to grind into her lower back.

Tav arched her ass into her in time, her hand and hips pulsing a rhythm into her. Gasping out staggered breaths.

"Take your top off for me." Karlach murmured, unwilling to give up her hold. Fingers tightening a wide cage into her neck.

Tav pulled her blouse open with fast fingers, pooling onto her elbows. Unclapsing the front of her bra, breasts falling free. Her hard nipples pebbling even more rigid. The combination of the sweltering night air and the fire at her back making her feel untethered.

Karlach's grinding sped up at the sight, sucking in a breath through teeth. Fingers picking up the pace a few moments later, taking a second to catch up to her hips.

Fingers now slamming into her, Tav's legs gave out, head falling back. Squeaking out fast indignant whines.

"Shhh..." Karlach urged, hand coming up from her throat to muffle over her mouth. Pulling her head back into her. "We're far, but not that far."

Tav's nails dug into her thighs, Karlach groaning quietly against her back. Tav's eyes rising into her skull, lids fluttering. Her cunt clenching in irregular pulses as her orgasm circled, drawing ever closer.

She murmured against Karlach's hand and she released slightly, fingers still plunging into her in lewd squelching.

"What was that?" She whispered, voice as sweet as her hands were rough.

"Choke me again, please."

Karlach's cunt ground into her so hard it pushed her forward. Her hand snapping back down around her throat, pulling her back flush in a sharp grip.

"Fuck yes." Karlach breathed, feeling the tremor coming from her core, pelvis bucking uncontrolled. "Give it to me, baby. Cum all over me."

Tav whimpered, cunt chasing her fingers with abandon. Her moans silenced in her throat. Head falling back, orgasm about to crest.

Karlach looked down into her eyes, pulling her jaw open further with her thumb. Licking up the inside of her lower lip with a groan.

That wrenched the orgasm from her far faster than she was ready for, her cry cut off abruptly into a hiss by Karlach's tightening fingers. Loosening as she enveloped her mouth in a muffling kiss. Tav gripped the back of her head and the curve of her horn desperately as it ripped through her. Cunt tightening down in visible pulls of her fingers, cum pushing out onto her palm with every thrust.

Karlach moaned against her mouth, the heat of her lips reigniting the hunger in her belly. Her body overstimulated all the same she whimpered against her, fast fingers still plunging.

"Just one more for me, baby. You're so pretty when you cum." Karlach urged, thumb rubbing hard circles into her cum slick clit.

Tav whined, buckling forward.

"Back." Karlach growled, fisting her hair into a ponytail. Pulling her flush once again.

"Yes, saer." Tav moaned.

"Fuck, call me that again." Karlach groaned, hips bucking hard into her back. Hand winding in a taut circle, pulling her hair back to her knuckles.

Tav moaned, a ragdoll to her demanding, in both body and words. Crying out as her second orgasm hit.

"Cum on my back- please, saer!"

Karlach shuddered against her, biting down hard into her shoulder to muffle herself. Her sharp teeth sending a shock of pain through her already unbearably high pleasure. Tav's nails curving with bruising intensity into her thigh, biting the inside of her cheek to keep from crying out. The second wave of slick pushing into the first, dripping down Karlachs wrist. A spreading wet against her lower back as Karlach's hips slowed into choppy pulses.

"Fuck..." She slid her fingers free, veiled in a thick layer of pulling arousal. Spreading it between her two fingers indulgently, making Tav blush despite the absolutely lewd behavior she just displayed.

"Karlach..." She whined, uncomfortable.

"Okay, okay." She chuckled. Popping the fingers into her mouth, sucking them clean with a thorough tongue. As if that was any better.

When her mouth opened again, Tav caught sight of something that made her cunt ache again.

"Karlach, why do you have a tongue piercing?" She whined, finding the whole situation extremely unfair.

"Huh? Oh, I hadn't realized you hadn't seen it! Though maybe you're usually not at an angle where you can, you tiny thing."

Karlach stuck it out flat, the small rounded stud displayed in the middle of her long pointed tongue.

Tav moaned, cupping her face and licking a line up the middle. The little smooth bump sending a renewed shock through her exhausted pelvis.

Karlach groaned, eyes fluttering up then returning to hers dark again.

"Careful soldier," She warned. "You're going to burn us both up."

#its actually criminal that i havent written more karlach smut. shes so diabolically my type #need her so unbelievably and to a frightening degree #hello fellow lesbians and beloved sapphics 👋#karlach smut #karlach x tav #bg3 smut #screenshot by @5mcsinatrenchcoat #lyrics from: bite marks - ari abdul

202 notes · View notes

flowercrowngods · 1 year ago

Text

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 (these make one big story, you won't understand this part without the others)

day 06: true & misunderstandings

Eddie doesn’t say anything for a while, filling their bubble with a silence so long that Steve’s entire being re-centres itself around Eddie’s hand in his, focusing on the warmth, on each minute twitch, and on the way his thumb aches to move and stroke the back of Eddie’s hand.

A silence that is disrupted in the gentlest of ways when Eddie, trembling just as much as Steve, says, “I love you.”

Steve blinks, not entirely sure for a second or two if he heard that right, or if that was just another thought his own, pressing and urgent and so, so real.

“I’m in love with you,” Eddie says again, and Steve is sure that he didn’t imagine it this time — but that doesn’t make it make sense. It doesn’t feel real. Eddie sounds so sad about it, too, like he is confessing to Steve a crime that has been weighing him down forever, something that he can’t be redeemed from.

It makes the dam break, the image of loving him as an irredeemable act, an unforgivable crime, a sin irremissible. Years and years of learning how to be in love with Eddie and not being too much, learning not let that consume him — years and years of trying and failing — all come crashing now as he hears that sad little voice.

Steve as the one who’s in the way of Eddie having a good life, a great life, a happy little bubble for himself in a world that used to be so cruel to him. Steve as the one who makes Eddie so incredibly, unbearably dejected.

It eats away at him, tears away at his soul so much that he barely even registers the words that belong to the sad, sad voice.

I’m sorry, he wants to say, but the words get stuck in his throat; and Eddie asked him to listen.

“It’s always been you, Steve. To me, it’s… You’re it. Always have been. But I had to move on, you know? After years, I just… God.”

Eddie’s collecting himself, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the right words that are slowly trickling through the fog in Steve’s mind and settle just behind his stinging eyes.

“Remember when I told you I used to have a crush on you? Years ago. And how that was all in the past, and that I had moved on? Well,” he huffs, nerves wracking through him as he squeezes Steve’s hand repeatedly. “Turns out, not so much. Don’t think it ever will be. But I thought, you know, I thought I was past the stage where it consumed me. Because you were still in my life, still right there, still happy, happier than I think I could make you, and… You were there. Still. After all those years, you were the one thing I hadn’t ruined. and I couldn’t tell you. I had Chrissy, I was— I was getting over you. I could breathe again, I could love again. But not… Not with everything I have, because that’s still with you. Only with you.”

Eddie lets out a shaky breath, his hand shaking now, and Steve wants to let go, wants to turn around and wrap himself around Eddie, hold him, his face pressed to the back of Eddie’s neck as he listens, feeling those vibrations in his cheeks as he talks.

He doesn’t. He stays right where he is, but the urge is becoming stronger and stronger.

Eddie loves him. And he sounds like he is about to cry because of it. Steve still wants to apologise.

A sniffle. “Chrissy knows. She said she’s the same, that she has a person like that, too. I never expected to love her as much as I do, but it’s a… It’s a different kind of love. And if I got to spend the rest of my days with her, life would be good, you know? Like you said about Robin. She said the same, said we’re doing the right thing. But—”

Eddie stops here, his voice growing hoarse and his breath hitching a little as if he’s holding back tears. Steve wipes away his own.

“But I don’t want a world where losing you is the right thing, Stevie.”

They both let out a sob at that, the weight of Eddie’s words settling inside Steve as he becomes aware of what Eddie is saying. Of what he is doing.

What are you doing?

Changing the world.

“I’ve done everything,” Eddie continues, purely and utterly heartbroken. “Everything, to get over you. And it seems that I did it so well, because now I’m losing you. And it seems like I got it all wrong, too, because— Because I don’t wanna lose you. I don’t ever wanna lose you. But you have to know. I need you to know that I’m so in love with you I can barely even breathe. Or, or think. When you’re there, but especially when you’re gone. Loving you is part of who I am. It’s like, it’s like a rule in the universe, you know. A law of nature. Simple biology, like you’re the sunshine and I’m a measly dandelion, and there’s so much more of me because of you. And when you’re gone, then so am I.”

Eddie’s crying now, and Steve pulls his knees to his chest, burying his face in them to hide he way he’s falling apart. Because this is not happening.

“And if you wanna leave, if I’ve done something you can’t live with, that’s— I won’t stop you. But please, I would just… I’d like to understand, Stevie. Because I love you. So much and for so long that I know I will never stop. It's just what I do in this life. And if I’m gonna have to stop, I need to know why.” A beat. “Please?”

There are no words coursing through Steve’s head as he tries and tries and tries to say something, anything. There is no, I love you. There is no, Because I can’t bear the thought of watching you live a life with someone else when all I ever do is imagine my life with you.

There is no, Tell me why you love me. No, Tell me you love me. Say it again.

All there is, all that comes out, is, “I’m sorry.”

And behind him, Eddie’s shoulders fall. He slumps, just a little, but Steve can feel it in his tension-riddled body.

Steve wants to scream. Wants to be brave like Eddie and bear his heart, because he loves him too! He loves him and maybe they can get it right, maybe their loves can match, maybe they can fix this.

But all the words get stuck in his throat, because they have seven years of practice.

“You don’t get to do this,” Eddie says quietly, just barely louder than a whisper, and Steve tears at himself from the inside out. “You don’t get to just… Say that. I’m sorry. Leaving me like that, after all of this. After everything? You’re sorry? No, fuck you, Stevie.”

Eddie’s hand is still in his, his hold unwavering, as if he’s holding Steve in place. And he is. Eddie is an anchor, he’s the north star, he’s— fuck!

“You’re everything,” Steve rasps after all, the dams broken and breaking, seven and more years of keeping the words to himself come flooding now.

He turns around this time, freeing his hand from Eddie’s, who tries to hold him tighter for one second, two, three, before Steve’s head lands between his shoulder-blades and he finally allows Steve’s arms to come up around him.

“You’re everything, Eddie, and when you told me you used to have a crush on me, I wanted to tell you that I’m right there with you. I wanted to tell you that, finally, finally I was right there with you.”

He says the words into the space between his heart and Eddie’s, feeling tremors underneath his hands. Breath is scarce as the air in his lungs is filled with Eddie once more, that familiar scent of him, everything about him; everything.

“But then you weren’t there anymore, said it was all in the past, and I had missed my chance. But I didn’t care. Because, Eddie Munson, you’re impossible to un-love. It never stopped. Never, never stopped. And it was fine, it was fine. But then you got engaged. And I can’t watch you anymore, Ed. I can’t watch you be the happiest you’ve ever been and have it not be my fault. I can’t watch you live that life you’ve always hated, the life that I always imagined having with you. The life I thought you’d grow to love because of me. I love you, Eddie. But I can’t do this. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Underneath him, Eddie is still as Steve silently cries into the back of his t-shirt, clinging to him now, holding him. For one last time, maybe.

Silence falls as they both just breathe air that’s filled with confessions and apologies.

And then, eventually, after an eternity or two, Eddie says, “I’m not marrying Chrissy.”

Steve’s heart stops, just for one second. He blinks. Swallows. Doesn’t dare to hope. “You’re not?”

Eddie shakes his head, reaching for one of Steve’s hand where it’s splayed across his middle. “No. She, uhm. She said we shouldn’t. Said I should get my boy instead.”

“Wh— Why?”

“Stevie,” Eddie breathes. “Because it’s you. And I… Tell me I’m not late again. Tell me I didn’t fuck it up again, tell me there’s a chance.”

What are you doing?

Changing the world.

Steve lets out a breath, breathing out Eddie, unreasonably scared that if he lets go of the air in his lungs, Eddie will disappear again. Leave again. Get over him again, for real this time.

“Is it true?” he asks instead of answering.

“Is what true?”

“What you said. That you love me. And that Chrissy knows. And that it’s fine. That it can be okay. That it… That we… I’m scared, Eddie.”

“What are you scared of, Stevie?” A whisper, a question so gentle that Steve lets out a pathetic whimper as he tries not to cry again.

“Me,” he says. “Fucking it up. Not making you happy. Not getting it right. Freezing like I always do, because it’s muscle memory. I’m— I don’t wanna make you sad, Eddie.” And you sound so sad. You already do.

Eddie breathes deeply and moves his hand, lacing his fingers with Steve’s as he leans back slightly, further into Steve’s embrace.

“It’s true,” he whispers. “All of that and more. And I’m scared, too. Because that’s not how I planned it, you know? Three in the morning with more tears than anything else, sounding and feeling like the world’s gonna end. You deserve a better love than that, Stevie, but… It’s sorta all I have, you know? If you’ll let me. If you want to. We can be scared together and figure out how to not be that anymore.” Eddie lifts their linked hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over Steve’s knuckles. “It’s all true.”

Steve lets out the breath he was holding, sinking further into Eddie, holding him tighter. Daring to brush a kiss to the back of his neck — a featherlight one that is barely more than a touch of lips to overheated skin. It makes Eddie’s breath hitch, so he does it again.

“Can you stay?”

“Hm?”

“The night. Here, I mean. Can you stay here tonight? I wanna… Just wanna hold you for a bit. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, Stevie. That’s okay. Do you wanna go to bed?”

He nods, still tightening his arms around Eddie, scared that he’ll leave. Scared to wake up if he moves. Scared to— Just scared.

“Hey, I’ve got you, c’m’ere” Eddie whispers, somehow winding himself out of Steve’s hold and pulling him up to stand.

And there, standing face to face with Eddie, everything is slowly starting to become real. The confessions. The broken dams, years and years of pent up tension, of hidden emotion and a yearning so deep it’s left scars, little ridges in his rib cage from where his heart has broken and healed and soared and burned and fluttered over and over and over again.

It has all come to this. Here. Eddie’s hands in his, his thumb stroking gentle patterns on Steve’s skin.

“I’ve got you,” Eddie whispers again, not moving. Only winding his arms around Steve’s shoulders when he leans in, tucking his head under Eddie’s chin, holding him tightly.

“I love you.”

Eddie smiles against the crown of his head, Steve can feel it with everything he is. “Yeah?”

He nods, mirroring the smile he cannot see. “Yeah.”

“Then let’s get you to bed, yeah? We can talk more in the morning?”

It’s a question that makes Eddie sound so small, so insecure — like he half expects Steve to take it back, to run away again and leave him. It breaks his heart, what he put Eddie through. What he put himself through. What they have put themselves and each other through, inevitable as it was.

“Yeah,” he promises, taking Eddie’s hand again and leading him to the bedroom, blanket thrown over his shoulder. “We’ll talk more tomorrow. I think you’ll have to explain again.”

“I will. As often as you need.”

I know, Steve thinks. I know you will. I love you.

It still feels like a dream, falling asleep with Eddie in his arms. It still feels like it will burst the moment he makes a wrong move, the second he blinks too hard or breathes too long.

He’s still trembling a little, still reeling, still confused and tentative in his hope. But at least this time Eddie is with him, stroking his cheek like he, too, can’t believe that this is all real. Like he, too, is scared.

But maybe they can be scared together. Maybe they can make it work. Maybe their love can match.

For the first time in weeks, months, years, or even forever, Steve falls asleep with a smile on his face, his forehead pressed to Eddie’s.

tagging: @sexymothmanincarnate @mcneen @livsters @eddiemunchondeeznuts @abstractnaturaldisaster @steddie-as-they-go @hyperfixationgoddess @goodolefashionedloverboi @stxrcrossed186 @eddiemunsonswife @bidisastersworld @ghost-ly-s @romanticdestruction @walkingaftermidnight07 @anaibis @rainydays35 @mightbeasleep @sunfloweringstories @korixae @tuesdaycats @totoroinatardis @ilovebookshowboutyou @musical-theatre-gay @theluckyalien @copingmechanizm @srra @changelingbaby @sassygoop @obsessivelyme @r0binscript @hardboiledleggs @estrellami-1 @bisexualdisastersworld @space-invading-pigeon @swimmingbirdrunningrock @y0urnewstepp4r3nt @oxidantdreamboat @spilled-jar @phirex22 @littlemsterious @captaingigglyguinea @animecookie95 @sharingisntkaren @haluton @littlemsterious @animecookie95 @suddenlyinlove @bisexual-bilingual-biped @jinx-nanami @makewavesandwar

come back tomorrow for a happy ending | read part 7 here

#steddie fic #steddie #steddieweek2023 #steddie week fic #dio words #hi these are sleep deprived hungover 6am words lmao i hope they’re fine i’m posting this from a steam train 🚂

1K notes · View notes

pandora-writes-one-piece · 3 months ago

Text

The Meet Cute - Ace's Story - 8

Source for pic

Firestarter 8 🔞

Word Count: 4392

Aditional warning for this chapter: There is a scene that is EXPLICIT NSFW. I will mark it with the 🔞 sign so you can skip it if you want. Having said this, your internet experience is your own and you should be acountable for it. You've been warned, read at your own discretion. Thank you!

Tags For The Whole Story: Fem!Reader, slight NSFW (It's mature, not explicit), slightly sugestive behaviour, flirting, jealousy, frenemies, sexual tension, miscommunication, unresolved tension, slight angst, slow-burn, romantic comedy vibes, alternate universe modern setting, swearing, drinking, fluff, feelings realisation, denial of feelings.

Special Warning: English is not my first language, I apologise for any possible spelling or grammar mistakes.

Summary: After moving away from the hustle and bustle of Grand Line City to help your father around the property following a horse-riding accident - and in the hopes of healing your broken heart after your asshole ex-fiancé cheated - you settle into the country calmness of the Calm Belt. You intended to have some alone time, to reflect and heal, but your childhood friend's older brother, Ace, seems to be there just to upset that fragile peace you're striving for. He's a flirt and a womaniser. But why does he also have to be so handsome and perfect? And how long can you resist his charms?

Notes: We took a lot of time to get here, so, for now, enjoy the fluffiness of this chapter, please! 🥰

Tag List: @rosidaze @beachaddict48 @armiliadawn

Masterlist for previous introductory chapters.

The sun hits you in the eyes and you stir. The breeze feels warm against the bare skin of your arms. As you take a deep breath, you are immediately flooded by Ace’s scent. A smile tugs at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle into the crook of his neck and squeeze your arms tighter around him.

He must’ve already been awake because you sense a kiss on your head. “Morning, beautiful.”

You can’t stop smiling and blushing, but you open your eyes to stare at him. “Hi.” He’s also smiling at you and he lowers his head to kiss you on the lips. “You must be so sore.” You murmur, because you both slept on the floor, but he held you against him and forced you to use him as a pillow.

“No. This was the best sleep of my life.”

“Stop being cute.” You say with a smile.

“Can’t. You rubbed your ‘cute’ all over me yesterday.” That elicits a chuckle and soon you're both laughing.

You won’t deny it. Last night was heaven. You used up all the condoms Ace had in his wallet, you cuddled under the stars and made silly promises of always wanting to be with each other. You shared favourite foods, colours, music and movies and your connection is so real that it’s like you have known him your whole life and never spent a day apart from him.

With the light of day you were afraid that this might all have been a dream and that you would doubt Ace’s intentions, after all, he won the chase, he got you.

Yet, he’s still looking at you as if you were the only important thing on the planet. He’s holding you so tight one might think you were about to slip down the mountain. And he keeps stealing kisses from your lips as if he’s afraid you won’t return them.

“Maybe we should get going.” You murmur while glancing at his wristwatch. “I’m sure Shanks already realised what happened, but I don’t want to be late to help him.”

Ace hums and shifts, positioning you on the floor and entwining his legs with yours so he can hover over you. “Five more minutes so I can properly kiss you good morning.”

You smile and nod, closing your eyes and waiting for his kiss, but he swiftly disappears in the middle of your thighs and you gasp. “Ace!”

“I didn’t specify which lips I wanted to kiss.” Comes his muffled response and you arch your back against his touch. Ten more minutes won’t make much of a difference, right?

-*-

You feel a little silly dressed only in your pyjamas, since it's daytime now, and Ace fishes out another one of his used t-shirts from the backseat.

“Do you have an unending pile of clothes there?” You chuckle and put on the oversized tee over your pyjama, tying a knot in the back to make it shorter.

He shrugs and gives you another kiss. “I just keep taking them off and they end up in the backseat. Sorry if it's a bit smelly.” He grimaces. “But, damn, you do make my shirts look sexy.”

Giggling you open the door and are about to enter when Ace sets his hands on your hips to help you up. If that gesture made your toes curl before, now it almost makes you roll your eyes in pleasure. “Ace!” You stare at him from inside the car.

“I can't help it. Your hips are like a magnet to my hands.” He goes for another quick peck, but you turn in the seat and pull him by the neck, opening your legs and letting him nestle against you for an open-mouthed kiss.

He grunts into you as he pulls away. “Stop that, Firestarter, I don't have any more condoms.” You smirk as he pulls away from you and goes around the jeep to get into the driver's seat. “You wanna kill me?”

He's obviously aroused.

But so are you.

So you try to get your mind out of the gutter as you choose a song on the radio and he drives. The mood for the ride this time is way different than before. You are sitting on top of the world.

And Ace is right there with you.

He keeps placing his hand on your thigh when it's not needed on the stick, and you can't stop grinning. You have such warmth inside your chest that you're almost afraid you'll combust.

You're happy. So happy. You don't actually remember feeling like this.

Ever.

You feel the need to tell him how much he means to you, to let him know that, in just a short span of days - that felt like an eternity because you were always around him or thinking about him - you've fallen deeply and madly in love. You've come to the realisation that you simply can't - and don't want to - live without him.

But you're afraid to let him know that already. It's too much for too little time and he's not used to relationships. You don't want to scare him. Even though you're dying to know if what he feels for you is as intense as what you feel for him.

Eventually Ace pulls over at Shanks’ house and you both leave the jeep. Ace says he only has to be at the fire station after lunch so he'll help you and Shanks with chores and you're happy about that decision.

But Shanks doesn't seem too happy.

“Morning, dad!” You greet with a small wave, but the redhead staring at you from the top of the porch only hums and drinks coffee from his mug.

“Good morning Sh-... Sir.” Ace says respectfully and you stifle a giggle. Why is he being so formal around your father?

“Ace is helping us with chores, is that alright?”

He hums again as a response and you and Ace climb the stairs together. Raising an eyebrow at your father, you step inside the threshold ready for a cup of coffee yourself. You'd also like a bath, but that will have to wait until after the chores.

Ace is about to follow you inside when Shanks steps in front of him, giving him a menacing stare and a scowl.

“Dad!” You growl from inside the house. “What are you doing?”

Shanks turns his head your way and finally smiles at you. “Go on inside, bug, I'm just going to have a quick chat with Ace.”

What now? You grumble and turn to go into the kitchen but, as soon as your dad turns, you return to eavesdrop.

“Portgas, explain.”

“Sir, I… what am I supposed to explain? We talked and cleared the air between us. We're fine now.” Ace seems nervous.

“You talked?”

“Uh… I… we… uh…” You facepalm and groan internally.

“You defiled my daughter, scoundrel!”

Why is your father speaking like he's a man from the 18th century?

“What? Shanks?!”

“It's ‘sir’ for you. It will be ‘sir’ for the rest of your life. And you've just lost your privilege to coffee.”

“Ah, Sh-... Sir! I really need coffee.”

Shaking your head you can’t help but think that your father is overdoing it.

“Why do you need coffee? Stayed up all night?” He curses and exhales deeply. “Ace, you better not hurt my baby girl. You see the smile she walked in here with today? You better keep her smiling like that.”

Sighing at your father’s protectiveness, you turn to go back to the kitchen.

“I intend to keep that smile on her face, Sir. Every day.”

The softness with which Ace delivered the words makes you melt and sigh again as you pace into the kitchen and take out two coffee mugs. Filling them to the brim and snatching the plate of pancakes your dad cooked for breakfast, you return to the porch and set the items on the balcony.

“Dad, stop trying to act mean.” You drag Ace to a chair and sit next to him, handing him one of the coffee mugs. He stares at Shanks who simply sighs and enters the house again.

With a heavy sigh, Ace takes a huge gulp of the coffee and you knit your eyebrows together. “Don't let him bully you, Ace. He's just trying to be mean.”

“He's right, though.”

“About what?” The coffee tastes delicious and you hum into the mug in delight.

“About warning me.” He scratches the back of his head and sets the mug down again. “I'm no good.” A sigh escapes his lips as he locks eyes with you. “Look at you, you deserve so much better than me…”

Oh, you are definitely going to kill Shanks. But first, you need to put a smile back on Ace's face. Getting up from your chair and sitting on his lap, you cup his cheeks with your hands and force him to look at you.

“You silly, silly man. You're perfect for me. You're all I've ever wanted and I've never been happier. Don't doubt yourself. You're enough!” Leaning down, you rub your nose against his in an affectionate manner. “More than enough, actually, and you're all mine.”

That seems to do the trick because his cheeky smile is back on his freckled face and he circles your body with his arms, one of his big hands grabbing your butt cheek as he leans in to claim your lips and you giggle into his mouth.

“Hmm, hmm.” Shanks clears his throat and Ace immediately parts from you, raising his hands in the air and looking at Shanks like a deer caught in headlights.

“Oh, come on!” You whine. “Dad, get used to this and stop being mean to Ace.”

“Get off me, Firestarter.” Ace whispers without breaking eye contact with Shanks. “He looks pissed.”

Eventually you lay the groundwork for a semblance of peace between both men, and you get to work helping your father. Shanks asks Ace to do chores on the other side of the property so you don't get distracted and he's right in doing that, because both times you pass by Ace on your way to get something, you two lose yourselves in kisses and embraces, barely getting any work done.

Lunchtime approaches quickly, and the morning chores are done. Ace needs to get home to shower because he has to be at the fire station in the afternoon and you are taking your time to say goodbye to him, by his jeep.

“Thanks for all the help, cowboy.” A sultry whisper escapes your lips as you lean your back against the jeep’s door, your hand lingering on his chest in a soft caress.

His smile mimics yours as he tilts his hat back. That adorable cowboy hat he wears in the sun. His skin is sweaty and glistening from the sun and his freckles make you weak in the knees. Pressing his body against yours, he lets his fingers caress the side of your body before settling on your hip, his thumb slowly circling your hip bone.

“Anytime, anywhere.” You chuckle as he leans in, his teeth nibbling your lower lip before his tongue swipes to ease the sting. Closing your eyes, you moan into his touch and he uses it as a cue to take your lips in a gentle kiss. “Come shower with me.” He whispers against your ear, kissing your skin with his hot breath, a veiled promise of what's to come, should you accept.

Tempting. So tempting.

“Can't.” You exhale. “Shanks is waiting for me.” He grunts and that low vibrato makes your skin perk up with goosebumps. “Later?”

His warm hands and nimble fingers keep caressing you, making promises he intends to keep and you feel your mind fog up with pleasure and yearning.

“Want to come by the station?”

“Hmm, hmm.” You mumble against his lips. “Will you be alone?”

“Yeah, everyone will be at the Jubilee.”

“Perfect.”

Your arms circle his neck and you pull him down for a final desperate kiss. “I gotta go.”

“Me too.” He grunts and you groan but neither of you moves to actually leave. None of you wants to part and stop kissing. Not when it feels this good, when it feels like you're two halves of a whole and you're finally reunited.

“Lunch is getting cold!”

The yell coming from the porch makes Ace pull away from you as if you suddenly caught fire and you can't stop a hearty laugh at the respect he holds for your father.

“You should go.” He says without looking back at Shanks, and you nod, letting go of his neck, but nor before laying another peck on his lips.

“See you later.”

-*-

The first thing you do after having lunch and taking a well-deserved shower, is text Nami. You send her exactly three words and wait: He is good!

Giggling, you pick up the call you knew she was going to make immediately and tell her what happened. You're so happy that you need to share the news.

-*-

Shanks corners you and tries to have a conversation about sexual responsibility and safety during sex and your eyes almost roll out of their sockets once he starts.

“Dad, are you serious? I was going to get married by the end of the year! I'm 25 years old! You can't expect me to be sexually innocent, right?”

Shanks’ blush rivals the colour of his hair and you are quite sure it's a reflection of the blush on your own cheeks. Grunting and turning away from you, seemingly occupied with packing some fruit and water before he leaves for the Jubilee, he adds: “Ace is a good kid, Bug. I told you that. And he told me his intentions towards you come from real feelings, not just to pass the time.”

Softening your gaze, you find yourself smiling. So that's what the two of them were talking about yesterday before you left the house. The part of their discussion you missed.

“I know you're in good hands with him, but I worry…” Shanks closes his eyes as he grabs his hat. Before leaving, his eyes search yours and they seem a bit sad. “I made him promise me he wouldn't break your heart. So you let me know if he does, okay, bug? See you later, sweetie.”

“Thank you, daddy.” Your voice is merely a whisper.

-*-

As promised, after your father leaves and you get ready, you meet Ace by the fire station. Heart already beating out of compass, lips tingling with excitement and a smile that doesn't leave your mouth.

You know he will be crazy about you no matter what you wear, but you can't help but dress a bit provocatively just to see his reaction. Using the thigh-high black socks again, you pair them with a cute little dress, half-expecting him to take in the infinite possibilities of easier access.

This time you use the doorbell, yet he's as fast as he was the first time around and in seconds he's opening the door with a huge grin.

“Oh, look! My food order arrived! I was starving!” You're about to chuckle at his silliness when he hooks his arms under your butt to get you to straddle his lap, and you oblige. Your laughter gets lost within his mouth because he's already claiming your lips on his with a fiery, passionate kiss.

It's as electrifying as the first kiss you shared. In fact, all kisses with Ace seem to leave behind a trail of fire that consumes you. It starts somewhere around your belly and its flames lick and climb and spread all over your body, leaving you numb, sweaty and aching for more.

He pulls a deep moan from inside you with his tongue as he deepens the kiss and you tug at his hair. Desperate fingers find purchase in his dark locks, trying to ground yourself to the here and now because you're already feeling yourself beginning to drift away in the throes of pleasure.

“Fuck, I've missed you.” He breaks the kiss with a raspy voice as he sits you on the back of the couch, hands gripping you tightly and digits protruding the skin. His eyes gobble you up and he almost has to pick up his jaw from the floor as he finally takes you in. “Are you trying to kill me, Firestarter?”

Your legs find purchase against the couch, hands lazily draped over his shoulders and he deems you safe enough to loosen his hold on you. A guttural grunt makes his lips tremble as he runs his hands over your legs and bare thighs.

Giggling, your fingers play with his hair as you lock eyes with him and hit him with your best sultry voice. “Not kill, no. But, perhaps, hinder you enough to take you aback.” Another giggle. “Is it working?”

“Fuck yeah, it is.”

🔞 EXPLICIT NSFW PART - READ AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION 🔞

His warm hand finds its way to the inside of your thighs, his digits exploring further and finding you already wet and wanting, the thin cloth of your panties barely holding anything back.

“You're already this wet for me, baby?” He coos in your ear and you whine at the sensation his hot touch creates. “Did you think about me as you were getting dressed?” He lays soft kisses along your neck and collarbone and you find it quite hard to concentrate on his questions.

“Hmm, hmm.” It's all you can manage as he pulls the wet cloth aside and drags two fingers on your folds, spreading your slickness.

“What was that?” His tongue teases your earlobe at the same time as his thumb does the same to your clit, and all the sane thoughts you had left in your mind go out the window. “I need a verbal answer, Firestarter. Can you do that?”

No. No, you can't. Because he's thrusting his fingers inside of you and biting at every bit of exposed skin on your upper body, and he's so warm and hot that it's like he's pure fire. And by all the gods, you don't mind burning away into ashes if it feels this good.

“I… Hmm, hmm. Yes, sure, yeah.” You manage to croak between sighs and mewls and the chuckle he releases against your neck makes his lips vibrate and elicit a very shameless moan.

“Are you still here with me?” He claims your lips again, trying to pull you back from the pleasurable place you drifted onto. Unbeknownst to him that such an act only pushes you further.

“Ace…” You whimper. How is it that with a few kisses and touches he has already reduced you to a whimpering, moaning mess, already on the verge of begging for him.

“It's okay baby, I got you.”

That sentence tells you he's almost done with his teasing and you help him get rid of his shorts so he can open the wrapper to the condom. Yet, before he does, you jump down from your perch and fall on your knees in front of him, eager to taste him as you have yet to try. Locking eyes with him, you catch his mischievous glimmer, reading your intentions full well.

Your lips tingle with excitement at the prospect of having him in your mouth, and you eagerly tug down his boxers and also get rid of your panties while you’re at it. “Fuck.” He mutters as you bite your lower lip, practically salivating at the sight before you. Using the precum gathered at his tip, you lather his length with your tongue as he releases a groan and places his hand on your head, fingers tangling around your hair for purchase.

He's definitely bigger than what you were used to, but you love a challenge. Hollowing your cheeks, you suck around him with one hand fondling his balls and the other one stroking his shaft. The sounds leaving his lips are driving you insane and you can't help but release one of your hands from him so you can put some pressure on your clit that's throbbing incessantly.

That action elicits a deep moan from you and Ace pulls out of your mouth before he loses control. “Ah, you're so good to me.” His praises leave you blushing. “Get up, baby.” He whispers as he finishes putting on the condom.

Ace removes the straps from your dress so he can pull it down and free your tits, suckling and biting on the nipples until you’re panting against his ear. “Ace! I need you right now, please, please!”

“There you go begging for me, baby. You know that drives me insane.” He grunts as he turns you and bends you over the back of the couch, spreading your legs with one swift motion. “You want me? How badly do you want me?” He teases the tip against your folds, letting it drag towards your clit and you arch your back to him. His hand slithers and grabs your boob, squeezing it and pinching the nipple as he aligns himself with your entry, just waiting for your answer.

“I want you so much, Ace. I can't stop thinking about you inside me and-... Mmmm, just like that.” You gasp as your nails dig into the plushness of the couch. He's inserting himself tantalisingly slowly and you can feel your walls stretching and accommodating him, welcoming him inside.

“So tight…” He grunts and buries his head in the crook of your neck, as you're still arching back. “So perfect.” As he finally bottoms out, the two of you moan in unison, taking shallow breaths. He slides his hand along your spine, from bottom to the top and pushes you gently forward by the nape, so you return to a bent position. Then he places both hands on your hips and starts to thrust relentlessly.

The burn spreads and scorches and extends its fiery tendrils to parts of you you barely even realised were there. He's so deep within you that it almost hurts, but instead, it's a pressure that feels good and keeps building and intensifying, pulling moan after moan from your lips. “That's it, baby, scream for me, we're all alone.” He assures you.

“God, Ace! I'm almost… Mmm… Ace!”

You can feel his thrusts getting more and more erratic, his pacing increasing and yet you still fall off that ledge before him when a feeling of numbness and overpowering burn courses through you. A panting, gasping moan leaves your lips in shallow breaths and Ace’s arm circles your waist, pulling you towards him, firmly, tightly as his release follows yours with a deep grunt, and his head collapses forward, against your shoulder.

You're breathing in tandem. Shallow, erratic breaths that leave you lightheaded. Or perhaps those are only the effects of the earth-shattering orgasm he just gave you. Whatever it is, you're both recovering. Somehow he recovers faster and, still buried within you, scatters sloppy kisses on your back and shoulders.

“You’re so perfect, so, so perfect.” A chuckle leaves your lips followed by a breathy whine when he pulls out of you. He’s still holding you tightly against him and his hand travels from your waist to your neck and he pressures near your jaw to tilt your head to the side and back so he can claim your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He exhales after your short kiss.

-*- 🔞 END OF EXPLICIT NSFW PART 🔞 -*-

“Told you that one was the first to die!” You point at the screen with a victorious shout as the blonde girl gets slashed in the first ten minutes of the horror movie. “I should've made a bet!”

Snuggling closer, you steal a kiss from Ace's lips. He smiles as his arms circle tighter around you. The loveseat that the other night seemed too small for both of you, now has plenty of space since you're lying on top of Ace.

Your boyfriend?

You haven't labelled it, but he did say he wanted to try a serious relationship. Whatever he is, he makes you happy. Your heart keeps swelling at the tiniest things he does for you. It's so endearing the way he circles his fingers in your hair, or the way he nudges his nose against yours when you're absorbed in the movie.

“Are you hungry?” He asks as his stomach growls and that is another thing you have come to expect of Ace. He's always hungry.

“I could eat.”

“I don't think there are many takeouts open during Jubilee, I think we might have to settle for pizza again.” He mumbles, half-annoyed. “One of these days I need to take you to a proper fancy restaurant. How about that?”

Giggling, you nod as he starts to dial the pizza place's number. “Sounds nice.”

After he places the order, you continue watching the movie, but Ace keeps distracting you with feather-like touches and cheeky kisses and you're bordering on a weird limbo between sleep and wakefulness.

You register the faraway sound of the doorbell, but Ace lifts you up very slowly, settling you back down on the couch and you keep your eyes closed, being lulled by the lingering smell of Ace around you and, oddly enough, the screaming sounds of the movie.

Just like the first time you visited, Deuce takes it upon himself to enter the day room and see which girl Ace is with this time. You hear them as if they are very far away.

“I can't believe you, Ace. She was perfect for you, if you have another one of those bimbos in there with you, I swear-... Oh.”

He must've seen your sleeping form on the couch, especially since you sense Ace approaching and fixing your skirt, which might've been riding up. He then moves away and growls with a whisper. “I told you to beat it, man! Nosy bastard.”

“Well you're right. I'm nosy. But I'm proud of you. She is the one, hey?” Ace’s chuckle is very warm and you sigh with a deep inhale. “But she's freaking hot, I don't know why she wants anything to do with you and-...”

“Enough, enough. Beat it.”

You still hear their whispered voices moving away. Ace sits down near you again, scooping you up in his arms and laying a sweet kiss on your forehead. “You're the one, alright.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #op #x reader #ace x reader #ace x you #modern day au #portgas d ace #the meet cute #portgas ace x reader #Spotify

86 notes · View notes

ladykailitha · 4 months ago

Text

The Caged Bird Still Sings Part 3

Hey guys!! I am really loving all the excitement for this story. It's going to be a fun ride.

I'm going to be taking a week off with this and Icarus (metal band Steve) next week because I can't wait for you guys to see the Stripper AU and the Olympic swimmer one. And Sept is too far away dammit!

This part we see the morning after and Eddie learns Steve's real situation.

Part 1 Part 2

Steve woke up the next morning, warm, sated, and happy. He stretched luxuriously in the bed, reveling in the silky softness of the satin sheets against his bare skin.

“There’s the sleepy head,” Eddie said from a nearby chair. He was gently strumming his guitar and jotting down notes. “Did you sleep good, princess?”

Steve sat up and let the sheets pool provocatively around his waist. “Best sleep I’ve gotten in a long time, if I’m honest.”

Eddie chuckled and put the guitar down. He strolled over to the bed and kissed Steve deeply. “As much as I would like round two, I’ve got to check out in an hour and I still need breakfast and shower.”

Steve pouted, but the tantalizing smell of room service hit his nose and his stomach growled.

Shit.

He hadn’t eaten since his dinner two nights before. So he slid out of the comfort of the bed and pulled on his pants, before padding over to the table that had a literal feast laid out.

“I figured you’d be hungry,” Eddie explained. “Eat as much as you want, I can grab food on the tour bus.”

Steve looked up at him, chewing his bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“Yup!” Eddie said, and then gathered some clothes and slipped into the bathroom.

Steve dug into the food with gusto. His mouth watering around each bite. Look, he’d grown up rich. He had never had “poor” people food. Only the best ever graced his mother’s table. But this? This was god tiered level food. Each bite melted in his mouth and lit up all his senses. It was divine.

Granted that could just be because he was hungry, but he didn’t think so.

He wasn’t sure how long he took savoring each morsel but he looked up to Eddie chuckling in the doorway to the bathroom.

“You keep making those sounds, baby,” he purred, “and I might be tempted to see how fast I could get you off.”

Steve ducked his head to hide his blush. “Is the food always this good?”

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “Not always sometimes they’ll have some asshole chef who thinks he’s god’s gift to food and makes it all about him. Small portions, bland, expensive as hell. There isn’t much Hawkins has going for it, but this hotel is definitely one of them.”

“It must be so expensive getting a room here,” Steve breathed.

Eddie just shrugged. “You must have not come from much if this impresses you.”

“My parents are like lawyer and businessman rich,” Steve said shaking his head, “not rockstar rich. Trust me when I say that this would blow their fucking minds.”

“Duly noted,” Eddie said coming to sit next to him at the table. There was still a lot left as Steve had been enjoying the meal instead of scarfing it down. “I wouldn’t know. I grew up in Forest Hills that’s the trai–”

“Trailer park,” Steve said quietly, “I know. I used to babysit after school for fun money. I didn’t have to do it, but I enjoyed it and I liked the pocket money that wasn’t dependent on Mommy and Daddy. Anyway one of my kids was from there. She had a single mom who worked and when she didn’t she drank, so I was happy to watch her and get her out of the house for a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Eddie blinked for a moment and then half shrugged. He pulled some food onto his plate and took a bite. “So yeah, I grew up poor and each time we moved up the chain from sleeping rough, to motel, to cheap hotel, to nice hotel, to some place more like this I was always impressed. Don’t impress me anymore, though.”

Steve tilted his head to the side. “Do you miss that? The wonder of seeing each new place?”

Eddie frowned as he thought about it. He took another bite of food but he nodded. “Yeah, I guess I do.”

He poke Steve in the ribs. “Don’t I didn’t notice you wanting to go diving into those pillows when we first came in. I saw you.”

Steve squeaked and giggled. “All right, all right. But can you blame me?”

“Nope!” Eddie said with a grin. “Because that was the first thing I did when I got into the room yesterday afternoon.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, all right.”

They finished their breakfast.

“Come on let me take you back to your car,” Eddie said putting his luggage together for his PA to grab later.

“Oh.”

Steve didn’t know what to do. He couldn’t tell him that he still had all his earthly possessions in his car. At least he hoped they were still there. That he didn’t have any place to go and he couldn’t ask the parents of those kids he babysat. His dad would make their life hell.

“No, it’s fine,” he said waving Eddie off. “I’ll relax here in the lobby for a bit and then call a friend for a ride. You can go whenever you need to.”

He had no friend to call and he would be walking that long ass trip back to the bar.

“I’m not going to do that,” Eddie said, standing up. “I’m going to take back to the bar because that’s where the tour bus is anyway. It doesn’t make any sense to have you call someone else when we are literally going to the same place.”

Shit.

There was nothing Steve could say to that. So he finished getting dressed and walked with Eddie back to his rental car.

Once they got to the bar, Steve tried to sneak off, but Eddie wasn’t having it.

“I’m walking you to your car, Stevie,” Eddie said with a chuckle. “You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Fuck.

Steve dragged his feet all the way to the back of the lot where his Bimmer was parked.

Eddie stopped ten feet from the car and looked at Steve in indignation. “Please tell me you have some place to go after I get on that tour bus.” Steve opened his mouth, but he held up a hand, “And please don’t lie, you’re terrible at it.”

Steve’s jaw dropped as he stared at him in shock. “I am not!”

“Yeah, you are, babe,” Eddie said coming and taking Steve’s face in his hands. “It’s how I was able to tell you weren’t twenty-two, remember?”

Steve let out a small petulant huff but said, “Yeah, okay. My dad kicked me out and threatened all my friends so they wouldn’t want to take me or risk his wrath. He did the same thing to my job at the video store.”

Eddie kissed him tenderly and then pressed his forehead against Steve’s. Steve grabbed onto his wrists for something to hold onto, not to pull him away.

“Let me get this straight,” Eddie growled, “you have no friends, no money, no job, and no place to go, is that right?”

Steve nodded, tears slipping down his cheeks.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Eddie murmured. He took Steve’s hand and started hauling him away from the car.

Steve stumbled, trying to keep up. He looked back at his car and then back to Eddie. “But where are we going?”

“I need to make a short pit stop and then we’re going back to the hotel,” Eddie said firmly.

“But what about your tour?!” he protested. “I let you throw your life away from some guy you just met!”

Eddie stopped and turned around to face him. “You listen real close, little Canary. We are going back to the hotel to get you a room for the next six months so that you have a roof over your head and a constant supply of food. Then I will be going on tour and will check in on you from time to time to make sure you do need anything else. Is that clear?”

Steve gulped he wanted to argue, but he couldn’t. And he had the feeling that if he tried to weasel out of it, Eddie would be right back in Hawkins to hunt him down.

“You take care of everyone else,” Eddie said gently, “let me take care of you.”

“How–how did you know I take care of everyone else?” Steve stammered, trying not to think of the implications of what was going on here.

Eddie kissed him gently. ‘Because little Canary, you have not once talked about the boy you were obviously caught with for your dad to throw you out even though he’s not offering to take you in either. You haven’t railed against the friends that are clearly more afraid your dad then they care about you. You haven’t blamed your dickhead boss for firing you for being gay, even though you really should. And you haven’t called the parents of the kids you used to babysit for fear of your dad coming after them, too. You have carer written all over you, babe.”

Steve blinked in the face of that onslaught of information.

“Oh.”

He hadn’t really thought to blame anyone for his current predicament because it was obviously his fault this all happened.

“So you’ll let me help you?” Eddie asked with a raised eyebrow.

Steve sighed and waved his free hand back to the direction they were going. “Lead on.”

Eddie cackled and did just that.

What the pit stop was was Eddie talking to his band and manager about getting Steve a room at the hotel, putting all of the expenses on Eddie’s credit card and hauling all his belongings up the hotel room Steve had vacated literally a scant hour before.

The room had been cleaned and the bedding replaced and the bed made anew.

Eddie handed Steve a paper with a couple of numbers on it. “The top one is my cell phone. I usually leave it in the tour bus, but if you call it I’ll call you back as soon as I can. The second number is Chrissy, she’s our manager, if you need anything other than what the hotel provides, call her and she’ll get it for you. The third number is your hotel en suite phone number. I don’t recommend giving this out to too many people though, okay?”

Steve nodded and gingerly took the paper from him. He looked up at Eddie, eyes glittering with unshed tears. “Thank you so much for this.”

Eddie kissed him again. “You just relax and enjoy yourself, baby. The tour will be over in a few months and then I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Steve kissed him goodbye as tears flowed down his cheeks. Eddie kissed them away and gave him a hug goodbye.

Once Eddie was gone, Steve sat down into the chair Eddie had been in when he woke this morning. Hard.

His entire life had been turned upside down again. This time was even more insane than the last.

Just two days ago, he had been making out with Tommy Hagan on his parents’ sofa and now he was sitting in the swankiest suite in Hawkins’ swankiest hotel, which would be his for the next six months.

He had all his clothes and his pictures and things. He even got to put them up on the side table, housekeeping would just dust around them. His clothes were in the drawers and closet. There was a basketball court in the hotel gym, there was a swimming pool, and a fucking sauna. There was a TV in the room, hooked up to cable. He could even order porn on here and it would all be charged to Eddie’s credit card.

Steve literally had everything he could ever need and never leave the hotel. There was just one condition.

No underaged drinking on Eddie’s credit card. Steve could smoke, watch porn, do whatever else he wanted, but he couldn’t drink alcohol until he was twenty-one. Because Eddie didn’t want to get into trouble with the law and Steve really didn’t blame him.

So he traded booze for the life of luxury. Which fucking hell was a pretty great trade.

He wiped his hands on the black leather pants he had yet to change out of and stood up.

Steve eyed the bed for one moment before he was running straight for it. He leapt into the air and landed spread eagle, face first in the center of the bed, pillows flying everywhere.

It was every bit as amazing as he thought it would be.

He rolled over on his back and stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he could get used to this, in fact.

Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag list: CLOSED

1- @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @beelze-the-bubkiss

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @sticknpokelightningbolt

9- @scoops-aboy86 @kurofuckingshi16 @watermelonmite @eyehartart @dreamercec

10- @little-birch-boy @yearningagain @micheledawn1975 @blondie1006

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #age difference #ten years between steve and eddie

144 notes · View notes