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ticklishfiend · 9 days ago

Text

Distracted

Lee!Viktor x Ler!Jayce

Word Count : 4761

Summary : Jayce can’t stop thinking about what it’d be like to tickle Viktor. When they get tipsy together one night, he doesn’t have to imagine anymore.

a/n : i love them. sm. also, two things: 1) this is lowkey an out of character fic but i realized that it’s kinda hard to write a tkl fic with lee!viktor and it not be a lil ooc so bear with me LMAO, and 2) i said i was working on a lee!jayce fic, and i still am, but it’s a little longer and more thought out than this one so again. BEAR WITH ME! okok love yall hope u enjoy

this is a tickle fic! not nsfw, but don’t like don’t read 😝

…

It’d be so easy. Almost too easy. Viktor would kill him for it, probably yell at him for 45 minutes for breaking his concentration with something so stupid and childish. But it would be worth it just to hear the cute sound Viktor would make when Jayce finally dug his fingers in sides, crawling up to his ribs and playing them like a piano, maybe even drill his thumbs into his hips just to hear him cry–

“What about this one?”

Viktor’s voice broke through his concentration, and Jayce nearly jumped. The slim man looked over his shoulder at Jayce, bringing his arm down from the top of the black board. Viktor has been writing near the top of it for a few minutes now, working on an equation as he mumbled under his breath. His arm had been outstretched over his head so he could reach, and with his whole side exposed like that, his ribs and underarms were on beautiful display for Jayce to stare and daydream.

It was nothing short of a miracle that Jayce had only been thinking those thoughts instead of acting on them, with the way his fingers itched and curled into the leg of his pants just looking at Viktor like that.

Shit, he should probably focus now. Jayce did a quick once over of the equation, making sure he’d have something of substance to say in response. “Uh, yeah it–it looks fine.” Ah yes, a very substantial addition, Jayce Talis. ‘Idiot.’

Viktor quirked a brow. “Just…fine?”

“Yeah I mean it’s…” Jayce cleared his throat, looking over it once again and finally taking in what Viktor was actually doing. “I don’t see anything wrong with it. And once we get it fitted into our earlier calculations, it should be ready to rock-and-roll.” Jayce cringed internally, ‘Oh my god shut up.’

Viktor still looked suspicious, as Jayce rarely seemed caught off guard like that. He turned back to the blackboard, “Well I think it could still use some touch-ups. You should come and help me, my brain is frying from staring at it for too long.”

Jayce swallowed. Dammit. He’d been perfectly content to watch from behind, it was easier to hide his self-made fluster at that angle. But…right fucking next to him? Where it’d be even easier to reach out, pinch a bottom rib, make Viktor squirm and laugh and—

“Jayce. Any day now would be preferable,” Viktor deadpanned, not even sparing a glance as he continued to look at his equation.

“Right, right,” Jayce hopped to Viktor’s side, really trying not to be any sort of distraction in his state. Now next to Viktor, watching through his peripheral, he saw Viktor once again reach up and make a few scribbles with chalk. Above his head. Exposed.

Jayce bit the inside of his cheek, snatching a piece of chalk himself just to have something to hold onto. Why was this hitting him so hard right now? Usually, moods like this were so much easier to suppress, easier to forget about when he finally got himself lost in their work. But right now, their work was more mundane, small touch-ups on calculations they’d been meaning to get to for ages. It had been a very dull day in terms of their work, but inside Jayce’s head, a boring work day meant more time to think about Viktor.

Whether Viktor was…sensitive. Ticklish. What kind of laugh he’d have. Would he giggle? Voice light and breathy, gently squirming and batting at Jayce’s hands while his face flushed at the feeling. Or would he cackle? His body shaking through the force of his laughter, having to clutch onto his own stomach like his reactions were being ripped from him. Maybe he’d beg Jayce to stop, maybe he’d be laughing so hard he’d be unable to even form words around his giggling, maybe he’d wail—

“Jayce, are you quite alright?” Viktor asked, his brow pinched in suspicion as he gave Jayce the one-over. “You’ve been…very distracted today. Not that I don’t appreciate the reprieve from your usual yapping, but your behavior does seem a bit unusual this evening.”

Viktor had taken to leaning against the board instead now, which was a lot easier on Jayce’s overwhelmed mind to take in.

“Sorry, sorry. Just got a lot on my mind, I guess,” Jayce gave his nothing-answer and turned back to the board to make a few marks, hoping Viktor would brush it off like he normally does. Or at least, like he used to do.

He’d been more inquisitive of Jayce lately, actually asking personal questions and even answering some of Jayce’s own. They’d gotten to know each other a lot better because of it, which was great, but it was also coming to bite Jayce in the ass right now since Viktor was able to notice that something was so off with him.

Viktor turned toward the lab’s window, his gaze on the moon shining bright through the glass. There was no telling when it had gotten dark outside, they both tended to very purposefully not look at the clock when they were at work.

Jayce heard him sigh. “It’s late,” Viktor droned, rubbing a tired hand down his face. “I wouldn’t mind taking a break if you’re also interested?”

Jayce’s brows raised in surprise, a little smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You’re asking me if we can take a break? Where’s my partner and what have you done with him?”

Viktor gave a small blink-and-you-miss-it grin, “He’s off drowning himself in a river. His brain turned to mush after staring at one equation for nearly 3 hours.” He grabbed his cane that had been leaning against the board, before pointing a finger at himself, “New Viktor, however, just remembered the alcohol he stored in the kitchen months ago for dull days like this. And he’s inviting you to share a drink.” Viktor poked Jayce in the chest, before turning toward the kitchen.

Jayce smiled brightly. “New Viktor’s got some good ideas.”

—

They ended up drinking just a bit more than either had expected to. They weren’t drunk, per se, but their combined buzz had them talking a lot more open than usual. Their conversations felt so easy tonight, and Jayce was starting to wonder why they didn’t drink together more often.

“And the next thing I knew, I had a kitten stuffed down my shirt and a crazy lady passed out on the floor behind me,” Viktor chuckled around the rim of his glass, taking a small sip before continuing, “Little moments like that make me glad I got out of the Undercity when I did.”

Jayce snickered openly, clutching at his glass through the laughter. “I don’t know Vik, that sounds like a great time to me.”

“That’s just because you're a Piltie with minimal Undercity experience. Trust me, a kitten down my shirt was the least of my worries.”

Jayce’s laughter simmered, but his grin never left. He gestured with his glass, “So, what’d you do with it? The kitten.”

Viktor shrugged. “I carried it in my shirt all the way home. I didn’t feel comfortable leaving it with that woman, even at my young age,” He said, before giving a little chuckle at the new memory. “Actually, it was hell getting it back home. I didn’t take it out of the shirt because, before she collapsed, she said she had guys that’d be after me for it. I was naive to believe anyone would recognize the kitten on my walk, but I was young so I’ll give myself that grace.”

Viktor shook his head through a smile, taking another small sip. “But my god, if that thing didn’t tickle me the entire walk home. I must’ve looked insane. Some–hehe–some crippled kid with a lump in his chest, giggling to himself, ” Viktor couldn’t hold back his own snickers at the thought, but of course still scolded Jayce nonetheless. “Stop laughing, this was serious to me at the time.”

When that word, that one word he’d been thinking of all day, rolled out of Viktors mouth, Jayce felt his heart leap. His skin nearly prickled. And now he’s tipsy, and there was no way he could hold back on making sure they stayed on that topic for as long as he could hold it. “So what I’m hearing is, Boy Genius is too ticklish to handle a little kitten in his shirt.”

Viktor rolled his eyes. “I was a child. And I doubt you’d fare any better in that circumstance, even at your grown age.”

Jayce held his hands in surrender. “I never said I’d do any better. But it sounds like you think you aren’t ticklish anymore, which I think is total bullshit.” Jayce couldn’t hold back his smirk if he tried. “Actually, now that I think about it, you’ve just given me a way to get whatever I want in the lab. Maybe I should thank you?”

Viktor pointed at Jayce with the hand he held his glass, a small bit spilling onto the couch between them. “If you dare try something like that, I’ll go back and convince the counselors to have you arrested again.”

Jayce laughed, “Arrested for what? Tickling you?”

The corner of Viktor’s mouth twitched upward, “For a hate crime. You can’t just take advantage of a cripple like that and get away with it.” Viktor claimed teasingly, before growing suspicious of Jayce’s wandering glare. He was staring hard at the glass Viktor held between them, a little smirk on his face. “What? What are you looking at?”

Jayce clicked his tongue, “Hold on, can I just—” He interrupted himself reaching his hand towards the glass, and Viktor was so caught off guard by the action (and a little slower to thinking now, thanks to their couple of drinks) that he let Jayce take the glass from him without any protest.

Jayce took one long swig of the drink, sighing hard as he set it down on the table next to them.

Viktor’s brow furrowed hard. “What the hell was that?!”

“That was me getting your glass out of the way,” Jayce’s smile was wide and his eyes alight with mischief, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “So I could test out a little theory.”

Viktor’s mind was working slow, but not that slow.

“Oh nonono , Jayce—Jayce, whatever you are thinking, stop thinking it.”

“Why?” Jayce wiggled his fingers as he scooted closer to Viktor, who cornered himself against the arm of the couch. “Nervous you’ll get caught lying?”

“Absolutely not,” Viktor said, “But I cannot promise you won’t get hit.”

“Ohoh that is a price I am more than willing to pay,” Jayce chuckled, before darting a hand out to sneak a quick pinch to Viktor’s side. The reaction was immediate. His partner choked on a sound in the back of his throat as he arched away from the fingers.

“Jayce I swear on everything—”

“C’mon, I never get to see you laugh. If it hurts, I’ll stop?” Jayce offered, and Viktor would appreciate the kind thoughtfulness of that statement had he not been too busy trying to push Jayce’s hands away from his torso. Unfortunately, the nervous smile on Viktor’s face during the entire tussle really took away any bite he tried to muster in his words.

“If it hurts, I’ll k-kill you,” Viktor’s voice wavered on the word as Jayce pushed a hand through and pinched his rib, latching on tight but not yet actually tickling. He just…held it there.

Viktor gripped onto the wrist at his ribs, pushing and pulling and trying everything to avoid his own humiliating downfall. He was already struggling to keep anticipatory giggles at bay, and Jayce was beaming at the reaction.

“You ready?”

“No, nonono, Jayce—”

“Three.”

“I’ll throw all your patents into the river!”

“Twoooooo.”

“Consider all your hard work a gross, soggy mush!”

“One!”

“Jayce, no-! aUgchk—n-nohohoho!”

Jayce finally put his fingers to work, gently pinching at that bottom rib incessantly. Viktor did exactly what Jayce thought he would. He giggled hard, arching in a way that curled his body around Jayce’s hand, and slapped at his wrist like it’d do anything to push him off.

“Y-You—You idiohohot-!” Viktor’s words faded seamlessly into another bout of laughter as Jayce brought his other hand around to squeeze nicely at Viktor’s side. Viktor squirmed in his hold, and Jayce thought he was going to melt.

Viktor looked so cute like this. Flushed from alcohol and laughter, smiling wide and desperate, squirming in Jayce’s hold like his every touch was causing a new reaction. Just cute cute cute.

“Nohot cute you freheak!” Viktor said around his giggles, making Jayce flush himself. Did I say that out loud?

Well. Might as well double down, right? “Only thing to make this any cuter would be a kitten popping outta your shirt, huh?”

Viktor visibly blushed a tinge darker, “Okahay okahay! Stohop! I cahaha-ahahah!” He couldn’t even finish his sentences. Jayce was hooked.

But he was also merciful. At his command, Jayce declawed from Viktor’s ribcage and hovered above as he watched Viktor pant and come down from his giggle fit. When Viktor caught his eye (and that doting look he got when Viktor did just about anything these days), he shoved Jayce’s face away playfully with an all too smiley groan. “I hope you got what you needed from that study, because you are never gonna try that again.”

Jayce snickered, leaning back to his spot on the couch. “Oh yeah? Says who?”

“Says the guy who’ll stick a cane up your ass if you try it,” Viktor leaned against his own respective arm of the couch.

Jayce grinned back. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

—

Hooked couldn’t begin to describe the feeling. Jayce was enthralled. Enamoured. He couldn’t stop thinking about that night, brief as it may have been. He didn’t want to go overboard with Viktor, of course, the man was weird about touch as it is. Jayce was lucky he’d been able to get his hands on him at all. But that hardly mattered. Because Jayce got to hear what Viktor sounded like when he felt ticklish, and now that he knows that sound, it might as well be on a record scratch repeat in his brain at all times.

Jayce’s leg shook anxiously under the desk. He wasn’t nervous, more just…unfocused, at the moment. Yes, partly from all of that, but mainly from the chaos of notes and blueprints and paperwork littered in front of him. That boring night must’ve just been the calm before the storm, because once they were able to get all those equations pieced together, the workload became fucking endless.

And of course Jayce loves their work, all the passion and hours they both devote to creating what is essentially their whole future. It’s a beautiful thing what happens in their lab. Astonishing. Awe-inspiring.

…and also ridiculously stressful.

Jayce must’ve been working for nearly 24 hours at this point. His legs felt like lead, and his shoulders ached from the past few hours of leaning over this desk and working working working. He couldn’t count the amount of times he’s had to stretch his hand out from all the notes he’s written.

He’s fucking exhausted.

And what’s worse? Jayce knows that Viktor’s somehow been awake for even longer than him.

Jayce cleared his throat. “So uh…it’s gettin’ late, Vik. Wanna call it a night?”

Viktor was hunched over his own desk, goggles on as he meticulously worked over their project. Jayce knew if those goggles were off, he’d be able to see Viktor’s eyes trying their damndest not to slip shut from exhaustion. “Not now. This needs a few touch-ups.”

“And it can’t wait til tomorrow because…?”

“Because if I break my concentration, I may forget where I was in my progress by tomorrow,” Viktor said, before waving Jayce off. “Go, get some rest. You deserve it.”

“And you don’t?” Jayce could hear his voice get defensive, on Viktor’s behalf no less. The guy never gave himself a break, it was nothing short of a miracle that he’d been the one to suggest their break just two weeks ago. Jayce sighed, “I miss ‘New Viktor.’”

At that, Viktor paused. Lifting his goggles to his forehead and throwing Jayce an incredulous look. “Seriously, Jayce?”

Jayce pouted with a shrug, leaning against the back of his chair. “Yeah. New Viktor would’ve had a drink with me hours ago and then gone to bed at an appropriate time,” Jayce grinned. He gave an exaggerated, almost theatre-like sigh, “I guess this Viktor just isn’t as fun.”

Viktor pursed his lips at Jayce, clearly holding back a little smile at the banter. “I’m plenty of fun. This is fun,” he pointed to the contraption on his desk he’d been fiddling with.

But Jayce stayed with the bit, humming dreamily. “Ohh, New Viktor, how I miss him. He drank with me. We shared funny stories and laughed together,” Jayce smirked, getting a fun little idea. “Yeah, I remember him laughing a lot that night, actually. And it wasn’t just from the jokes he was telling.”

Viktor scoffed a half-laugh, shaking his head. “You sound sleep-deprived.”

“Noooo, my head’s pretty clear right now, actually. I remember it so clearly. Gah, New Viktor was such a riot,” Jayce sat his elbow against the desk and propped his head against his hand, giving Viktor the cheekiest grin. “He even let me tickle him. Can you believe that?”

“I did not let you do anything, don’t go twisting the narrative,” Viktor pointed at Jayce, his face losing the battle against the smile he’s been fighting. “You probably have 100 pounds on me, you practically assaulted a disabled man against his will.”

Jayce ignored him. “If I remember correctly–”

“You don’t remember a thing.”

“-he was very ticklish, even though he tried denying it at first. How silly is that? If you deny it, you know someone’s just gonna try it out and prove you wrong anyway,” Jayce said, before humming in fake contemplation, squinting and tilting his head. “Huh. Are you ticklish, Viktor?”

Viktor tapped his finger against the desk in a steady rhythm, now avoiding eye contact with Jayce. “You are ridiculous. We are grown, and I need to work.”

“Actually, you need to stop working and go to bed,” Jayce stood from his seat and walked to Viktor’s desk (who still refused to meet his gaze), leaning an arm against the top and towering over Viktor. From the new angle, he could see a little blush over Viktor’s face and ears, how he was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling anymore. Cute. “You gonna do that, or am I gonna have to answer my own question since you avoided it.”

Viktor glanced at Jayce with a side-eye. “You know the answer. And you’re being childish. If I wish to work, you cannot force me to stop.”

“Actually,” Jayce grinned, before hooking his fingers under Viktor’s arms (which were so conveniently sat atop the desk, leaving his underarms open and exposed) and digging in, getting an immediate reaction from Viktor who flung his back against the chair and choked down a laugh with the funniest sound. “I think I totally can.”

Viktor squirmed, his good leg digging its heel into the ground as his arms shook against their spot glued tight to his sides. His head was ducked down to hide his face, but he kept making these choked off little sounds like he was trying his hardest not to laugh (even though they both knew how ticklish he was, it was such a useless battle that Jayce’s heart burned in adoration).

“Viktorrrrr,” Jayce sung, his fingertips travelling just a tinge lower to Viktor’s upper ribs, and that’s what did the scientist in. Viktor let out a laugh that sounded like it surprised even himself, before tittering helplessly and falling into a giggle fit he couldn’t fight if he tried.

“Nohoho! Not again, Jahahayce–!” Viktor shook his head against his laughter, slapping at Jayce’s arm as deeper belly laughs started escaping him. Jayce could almost hear in Viktor’s laughter how he started to feel the helplessness take over, how he couldn’t get out of this if he tried. “Why?!”

“Because I care about you. You need sleep even more than I do, Vik, and you aren’t gonna do it unless I make you,” Jayce said, like he wasn’t tearing Viktor apart beneath him, like Viktor wasn’t coming undone under his fingers and squirming like a worm on a hook.

Viktor laughed harder at his words, “Cruel!”

Jayce couldn’t help but snicker himself. “Cruel? I’m helping you here. Just tell me you’re gonna go to bed and this is all over!”

Viktor shook his head, “Let me work! Evil fucking–ggahahaha shihit!” He lost his words as Jayce found his lower ribs right above his sides, Viktor’s hands grasping onto Jayce’s wrists like a lifeline.

“You are so stubborn,” Jayce chuckled. “I can go all night, y’know. You aren’t winning this.”

“Jdi do píči!” Viktor cursed in his native tongue around his giggles, and Jayce felt himself blush at the sound. Oh, Viktor’s gonna be the death of him.

“Gonna assume none of those words were ‘Yes, Jayce! Of course I’ll go get some well-deserved rest, thank you for helping me!’ Would I be right?”

Viktor didn’t respond, only laughing harder as Jayce slipped his fingers back up into his armpits. His head was thrown back now, and Jayce could see his Adam's apple bobbing through this laughter. His cheeks were flushed, eyes shut tight from the smile searing his face, and god the crinkles his eyes were making just made Jayce’s brain glitch. “C’mon, Vik. I know this is tiring you out.”

“You don’t know shit!” Viktor cackled, clearly confident he could withstand this. Well, at least before Jayce slipped one hand out and started tickling the side of Viktor’s neck and ear. Viktor seemed to stumble over his own laughter, his brain fuzzing around the new sensation as he slipped in and out of belly-laughter and high-pitched giggling. The side of his head slammed against his shoulder to block the sensation, but Jayce’s fingers were already at work, scribbling and scraping against those horribly sensitive spots that Viktor clearly couldn’t stand, if his incessant cursing in another language wasn’t enough to prove it.

“Oh? This a good spot?” Jayce teased, now bringing his other hand into the mix on Viktor’s other side. Viktor’s shoulders completely hunched up, his body so overwhelmed he didn’t know what to do with himself. He doubled over, clutching one arm over his aching belly while the other continued its useless slapping at Jayce’s arm. Jayce chuckled, “What? Does this tickle or something?”

“F-Fucker!” Viktor’s voice wavered, high-pitched and bubbly, before he finally resigned to his fate. “Okay! Okahahay! Bed–! I'll sleheheep!”

“Okaaay, I’ll trust you this time,” Jayce grinned. He stopped the wiggling of his fingers, but poised the tips of his indexes right at the curve of Viktor’s ear. It was a threat, and one that made Viktor titter and squirm and pull at Jayce’s wrists uselessly. “But next time I catch you without sleep for nearly two days like this, I’m not going easy on you.”

Finally, Jayce pulled his hands away, and Viktor slumped against the back of the chair with an exhausted sigh. “Have I ever told you how much I don’t like you.”

Jayce snickered, “Yeah. And I didn’t believe you then either.”

Viktor grinned, wiping a hand down his face. “I knew you’d do that eventually. I couldn’t expect you to find out something like that and not use it against me at some point,” He stood up on wobbly knees, and Jayce quickly handed him the cane that had fallen on the ground during Viktor’s squirming. “Just didn’t expect you to be so cruel about it.”

“Hey I wasn’t cruel–”

“Oh? You weren’t? Torturing a disabled man when he’s running off no sleep for over 48 hours isn’t what you’d call cruel?” Viktor teased, gathering things off his desk to bring home in his bag.

“Torture?” Jayce’s voice tilted up his grin. “You never even told me to stop.”

Viktor’s hands fumbled and he dropped a few pens. Jayce laughed as he bent down to retrieve them, their hands brushing as he gave them back. Viktor looked like a pouty cat, lips thin in a tight line with squinted eyes. Best of all, his ears were burning.

“It's a little hard to speak when you’re being forced to laugh.”

“But not hard enough you can’t slip in a few curses, right?”

Viktor had no rebuttal to that, merely scoffing like he had no clue what Jayce was talking about as he tossed his bag over his shoulder. “Goodnight, Jayce.”

Jayce watched as Viktor walked toward the door, completely satisfied with himself. He did it. And…it didn’t seem like Viktor even minded that much. In fact…hm. Maybe he’s reading too much into it. There’s no way Viktor liked it as much as Jayce. That’d be crazy.

“And um…” Viktor had the lab door pushed halfway open, stopping himself with his back turned to Jayce as he spoke. “Thank you.”

Jayce just could not help himself. “For tickling you?”

Viktor laughed at Jayce’s gall, “For making me get rest, you bastard,” He glanced over his shoulder to Jayce, who looked over the moon at Viktor’s honesty. “I know I need this, despite how I fight against it. So…though your methods are horrible, and undignified, and childish and stupid, and really show how odd your personality is—”

“Let’s get to thanks, yeah?”

Viktor smiled as he turned back around from Jayce. “...Thank you for looking out for me. I do appreciate the care.”

Jayce wanted to hug Viktor so tight their bodies melded together. Instead, he said, “Anytime. You know that.”

—

Viktor fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Jayce was right, as much as he hated to admit it. He’d lied when he said it was only two days without sleep. It was probably closer to four. Jayce just didn’t know that because the last time Viktor went home, he’d taken some of their projects and papers with him to work on in his own personal study.

So yes. His rest was needed, or whatever. And he did sleep really, really good. Almost 14 hours completely uninterrupted as he snoozed warm and cozy under the covers.

Only problem was…his mind ran a little rampant in his sleep that night. The events of the night before, with Jayce, and Jayce’s hands, and Jayce’s fingers, and Jayce teasing him so close to his ear he could feel his skin prickle with Jayce’s breath on his neck. All those thoughts that made his belly warm and fluttery were what he fell asleep to that night.

Which led to some…interesting dreams to think about when he woke up that morning.

“Does it tickle worse here? Orrrr here?”

“Jahahayce! No plehehease!”

“Answer the question, Vik. Your thighs or your hips?”

Jayce’s fingers were pressed deep into both spots, one hand tickling deep into his thigh first, before pausing so his other hand could wreak a similar havoc against Viktor’s hip. The feeling was overwhelming, and Viktor squirmed hard against the weight of Jayce pressed on top of him on the lab couch. Viktor was fully pinned under Jayce, unable to move and only allowed to squirm because Jayce thought it looked pretty when he did it.

“Hihips! Jayce, hips, plehehease!” Viktor wailed, and when Jayce paused, Viktor inhaled like he hadn’t had a good breath in years. His breath was labored, shaky, laced with leftover giggling from Jayce’s attack.

And Jayce just looked down at him like Viktor hung the moon that lit their lab through the window.

“I love your laugh.”

Viktor squirmed at the praise, shoving Jayce’s face. “Stop.”

“That’s the first time you told me to stop. What, am I embarrassing you?”

“Stop!” Viktor whined, shoving both hands over Jayce’s eyes so he couldn’t look at him in this flustered state.

But Jayce only chuckled, grabbing Viktor’s wrists and hoisting them up over his head to pin them against the arm of the couch.

“But you like it, don’t you?”

Viktor woke up with a jolt, his eyes wide and breath uneven.

Shit. Was he actually into this? What the fuck did Jayce do to him.

...

hope u enjoyed! pls consider reblogging if you did <3

#tickle fic #arcane tickle #arcane tickling #jayvik tickling #tickle community #tickling #my fic

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stayinlimbo · 10 months ago

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the world is ending (but i'm happy you're here with me)

pairing: lee minho x f!reader genre: established relationship, fluff, hurt/comfort warnings: one (1) swear, mc is mentioned to have longer hair at one point, slightly unedited, lowercase intended word count: 1.07k note: i had a lot of fun writing this, so i hope you enjoy it too ♡

there comes a time in every girl’s life where the overwhelming urge to change her physical appearance eclipses all sensible and rational thought. as it turns out, you’re no exception.

“you’re going to laugh.”

“no i’m not.”

“you already are,” you deadpan, frowning at minho’s pitiful attempts to repress the growing smile quirking at his lips. your boyfriend has the audacity to chuckle at your words, pushing himself off the couch and gliding towards your stiff figure standing at the entrance of the living room.

“you can’t blame me, you look so cute and adorable right now,” he defends. an arm snakes around your shoulders and you relax slightly at his touch, wrapping your arms around his middle. “besides, it can’t be that bad—at least, not enough for you to have to hide from me.”

minho pulls you further into the warmth of his chest, the tender embrace sending a small shiver down your spine. his lips meet the side of your hooded head in a firm kiss, the extra pressure ensuring you would feel the loving gesture. the usual trail of kisses towards your forehead and cheeks is blocked, currently concealed by your (his) hoodie’s drawstrings working overtime to reveal only a small oval of skin.

the hood’s bunched fabric frames the top of your eyes and lips. you can barely see in front of you until one of minho’s fingers slips into the opening to try and take a peek at what’s covered inside.

minho is being nice; you look ridiculous.

and it’s your fault really. you should have known you couldn't escape your misfortunes that easily.

work for the past month has been hell: the road-closure of the usual route you’d take, tacking on an additional fifteen minutes to your commute. the early mornings you have to endure to clock-in on time. the “important” group project your boss delegated around the office. the unpaid overtime for said project. the same petty, passive-aggressive coworkers breathing down your neck and critiquing your every move because you made a mistake once—all casting insurmountable pressure on your already exhausted state.

you finally snapped when someone callously stole the lunch minho had prepared for you from the breakroom’s fridge.

you suppose now it was your brain’s attempt to regain some sort of control over the strenuous situation, but the impulse to cut your hair, try a new style, start fresh with your appearance bombarded every thought on the journey home. call it an impulsive thought, an intrusive thought, whatever—you needed to do something.

too bad the hair stylist couldn’t follow directions for shit.

“minho, i’m serious,” you whine, burying your face further into his chest. suffocating in the arms of the man you love doesn’t sound like such a bad idea right now. “she ruined my hair. how am i supposed to go out in public like this?”

“i can’t tell you if you haven’t even shown me yet. i’m sure it’s not as bad as you think,” he muses, chuckling at the vibrations tickling his torso from the muffled groan you release.

minho starts to sway the two of you back and forth at your silence. the rhythmic movement cradles you in a comforting hold, temporarily soothing your spiraling thoughts. he’s right; you’re going to have to show him at some point. might as well just get it over with now.

a defeated sigh escapes you. well, here goes nothing.

you step out of minho’s arms and pry the hood off to reveal your botched hair in all its glory.

uneven bangs, a completely different color than from when you left for work this morning, fall into your face and cover the top of your eyes. you can’t see yourself but judging from minho’s small hiss and surprised, contorted face, it’s not pretty.

and it’s not like you asked for anything outlandish: a standard cut and a new style of bangs was your definition of revamping your appearance. so when the stylist cut off a majority of your hair, it took everything within you to not immediately burst into tears as the salon’s floor and your lap splayed the once lengthy remains.

you don’t even know where she got the idea of bleaching your hair. now your wallet and soul are emptier than ever and there is nothing you can do except hope minho doesn’t ask you to turn around because the layers are downright atrocious.

“so? what do you think?” a wobbly smile makes its way onto your face. “not what you were expecting, right?”

you can’t help the tears welling into your eyes at his silence. he’s just…staring. certainly this can’t be the dealbreaker, right?

…right?

you’re saved from your inner turmoil when minho moves forward to carefully bring you back into his arms. the tears finally spill down your cheeks and onto his shirt, the comforting scent of minho flooding your senses once again. if you could hide here forever, you would.

“it’ll grow back.”

“i know.”

“you still look sexy.” he pinches your side, coaxing a watery laugh from you. his smile is infectious, and you can’t help but tearfully look up at him with one of your own.

you playfully guide one of his hands towards the back of your damaged hair, leaving it there. “so you’re not breaking up with me over this?” you tease, resting your head back against his chest. you don’t notice the subtle shift in your boyfriend’s gaze until he softly calls your name.

“i would love you even if you were bald,” he confesses quietly, squeezing you tighter to him.

you can’t help but snort into his chest. “yeah?”

“yeah. i will love you now until it’s long again. i will love you with any hair cut, color, style, anything. even if you hate it or one day regret it, my love for you won’t change,” minho assures, his sincerity echoing in his words.

“so if i dyed my hair pink tomorrow, you’d be okay with it?”

“do what you want, whenever you want.”

because it doesn’t matter to him what you do with your hair. you’re still you, his beautiful and resilient (and sexy) girlfriend. even as his hands run through the chopped, disproportionate strands on the back of your head, he finds you more and more enchanting with each passing day.

“i will be here for you. always.”

✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺

(“i still have to go to work.”

“just wear a hat.”)

────────────────────────────────────────────

liked this work? want to let me know how i did? please like, comment, and/or reblog; they are greatly appreciated my asks are always open ♡

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ponderingmoonlight · 1 year ago

Text

How JJK men react to different insecurities part 3

Pairings: Nanami x overweight fem! reader (requested by @deegausserr) Choso x fem!reader with big breasts (requested by anon)

Yuji/Todo x tall/curvy fem!reader (requested by @sitarawrites, @hitori979, @sophyr05 and anon, I see y'all my tall queens)

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: not 100% proofread, as usual don't read if you feel triggered by those topics, listen I literally have no boobs so I'm beyond sorry if Choso's part is shit, overweight and big breast parts contain insults (please note that this is definetely not the way I feel about it!) but also so much comfort from your favorite characters, you are beautiful just the way you are 🤍

Part 1: Nanami x reader with facial scars; Megumi x reader with small breasts; Sukuna x reader with acne (click here to read)

Part 2: Nanami x reader who doesn't want kids; Gojo x reader who gained weight; Megumi x reader with hooked nose (click here to read)

Nanami with an overweight reader

(Imaging him grabbing those ass bully girls like this okay)

You cover yourself up the minute he enters the room. He, the man who caught your eye since the beginning. He, who looks so effortlessly good in that suit. He, a well-trained man with a body like the statues in ancient Greek.

“Hey, the same as usual?”

“Thank you, (y/n).”

Just him, Kento Nanami. And you? Well, you have nothing in common with all those things. To be exact, you aren’t even sure if he ever noticed you. Why would he? You are nothing but a worker in a coffee shop, average-looking and…

You swallow. You are overweight. Not that it would bother you this much. After all, you work hard for your money each and every day, you do your best to keep your head above the water. You never really felt the urge to lose weight until reality, or rather other people, hit you.

“Oh, look who’s working again!”

“Did you already eat all those muffins? How is it possible that when you’re working, all the food is gone around this time?”

There they are again. Breathe in, breathe out. Everything is alright. Just suffering a few minutes, just letting their words hit you a little longer and they’ll be gone again. You just have to get through this. It’s not like you haven’t heard those group of actual grown-ups say those nasty things to you over a hundred times already.

But no. Today, it isn’t that easy. Because on the table in front of you sits none other than Kento Nanami who reads his paper and sips on his cup of coffee like he always does. Why do you suddenly feel the urge to defend yourself, to make them stop talking to you like that?

“Can you guys just leave me alone? I’m doing my job here, okay? Would you like to drink or eat something-“

“Fat pig”, one of the blonde girls suddenly spits at you.

This is nothing new. You should be used to it by know, all the countless insults especially that group of four girls always spits at you are too much to even count. Then why…Why do your eyes roam to his perfectly trimmed blonde undercut, why do you ball your fist in an instant?

What a dumb mistake. One of the girls follows the direction of your sight, breaking out in hysterical laughing when realizing that you were looking at Kento Nanami. No, please don’t make a stupid comment, please just grab a coffee and leave this place. Even though it hurts to get reminded of the stinging fact that you are overweight almost every single day, what hurts even most is…

“I can’t believe you! Why would a fatass like you even look in his direction? Can’t you see that he’s out of your league? God, you are so pathetic it makes my wanna cry. I mean, don’t you have a mirror at home, can’t you see that you are nothing but a fat fuck? Nobody will ever want you, (y/n). Especially not a handsome man like him.”

It’s hard for Nanami to contain his temper, hand already trembling threatful. Who do these girls think they are to talk to you in such a nasty way? You are breathtakingly stunning with eyes that radiate nothing but kindness, you work so hard each and every day. You…

You don’t deserve this.

“Leave me alone”, you mumble again.

And for the first time in forever, your throat starts to burn as well as your eyes. At this point you were so used to getting picked on that you didn’t even cry about it anymore after some time. But this…this isn’t about your weight anymore. This hits you right where it hurts.

Kento Nanami.

You don’t even dare to look his direction, eyes pierced to the ground while their venomous laughs fill the room with hatred. The urge to just get out of here, to leave this place and never return becomes almost unbearable. Maybe…maybe you should really lose some weight. Your eyes dart towards the counter in whose glass your figure is reflected.

You feel absolutely horrible and disgusting. A silent sob escapes your lips. Yes, why would someone like Kento Nanami ever want someone like you?

“Awww look at her, now she’s crying!”

You can’t take the shame anymore. Without thinking twice, you storm out of the coffee shop, ignoring your co-worker calling out your name behind. It began to rain in waterfalls, your tears now mixing with the drops from above.

There was probably never a moment in your life where you hated yourself as much as now. What where you even thinking, getting all excited every morning because of that force of a man? Were you really too dumb to realize that Kento Nanami would never fall for a girl like you?

A fat pig, a person so undisciplined that it shows, a girl that could never wear his t-shirts as a dress. You are a nobody, an ugly figure in a world full of skinny models-

“(y/n)!”

That voice makes your guts turn in an instinct, heart pounding against your chest. You pick up your pace immediately, almost running down the rainy streets of Tokyo into an alley. Of course, he followed you. After all, Kento Nanami is a gentleman out of romance books, the perfect man. But you’d rather die that let him comfort you. No, you don’t want to hear that he’s sorry about their cruel words, you don’t want him to look down at you with his pity-filled eyes.

You simply can’t take it.

“Hey, (y/n). Please look at me.”

With a swift motion, he grabs your wrist and turns you around. You feel like dying right here and now, his chocolate brown eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

But then…

He pushes you against the wall and just kisses you. His lips collapse onto yours with so much passion that it simply takes your breath away, his eyes roaming around your body hungrily. You stare at him in sheer disbelief. Is this really happening? Are you dreaming? Countless lonely night, you imagined what it would feel like to have him this close, to feel his body against yours. And now…And now that gorgeous man pinned you against a wall.

“Don’t you dare to believe a single word they said. I promise you that they’ll never speak to you like this again. I made sure of that.”

It feels so surreal, almost too good to be true. Is he only doing this out of pity, because he doesn’t want you to feel bad? Your heart sinks painfully. Is that what this is about?

“You don’t have to do that so I’m feeling better”, you mumble against his lips.

Instinctively, you cross your arms in front of your chest, hiding you like you always do around him.

“I’m not saying this to make you feel better”, he replies in an instant, hands gently untucking your arms to place his own around your waist.

“I’m saying this because I can’t take my eyes off you since I saw you the first time I stepped into this café. You have to be the most beautiful person I have ever seen, (y/n). I adore your delicate curves, your inviting smile, your unshakable character. I love the way your hair falls and how you prepare my coffee. I adore you just the way you are. Did you really think I’m there because of the coffee? It’s not that good if you’re asking me.”

His comment makes you giggle your tears away and shaking your head at the same time.

“Yeah, the coffee isn’t that great to be honest”, you comment.

“But you are.”

He looks down at you all serious again, his intense gaze making your knees go weak in an instant.

“And I want nothing more than to take you out to a nice restaurant.”

Choso with a reader who has big breasts

You were never keen to meet new people, especially men. Not because you aren’t talkative or enjoy others company. No, it’s because you never know how they’ll react when seeing you for the first time.

Even though especially other women are jealous of you because of how big your breasts are, you truly hate them. It seems like the second you meet someone, all they have eyes for is your cleavage. No matter if you wear a baggy shirt, your uniform or one of the dresses you normally adore so much, your boobs come first. And you fucking hate it.

“Hey, why are you so nervous, (y/n)? I’m sure you and Choso will get along just fine!”, Yuji tries to cheer you up with a kind smile.

“And probably your-“

“Shut up right now, moron”, Megumi mumbles instinctively.

You sign to yourself. It’s clear that he’s just trying to be nice and funny, but to be honest you want to cry. Since puberty hit you, no one ever saw you like an individual anymore. No, you are either sexualized or body-shamed.

“Would you crush me with your melons for some money? C’mon (y/n).”

“There she is again. Look at her tits!”

“She’s just showing off. What a slut.”

“I bet those would be a good ass pillow.”

You are so damn tired of it. Tired of all the people talking about you behind your back, tired of being nothing but a sex object, tired of having no character. Even though here at Jujutsu High, people seem to finally get that you are indeed a human being all by yourself and would never talk badly about you, you can feel their looks.

“Oh, there he is! Come on, (y/n)!”

No, no, no. Is it too late to just turn around and leave this place? Maybe Maki is still free, you should go and grab a drink with her. Or even better, barricade yourself into your dorm and return when this man is gone.

“You must be (y/n). My little brother told me a lot about you”, a dark voice introduces itself.

Your eyes dart up in panic. Oh, you just know how this goes. First of all, he’ll look down at your breasts. If he’s having at least a spark of decency, his eyes will dart back to your face and roam around when he thinks you’re not paying any attention. And maybe, just maybe, he won’t mention your cleavage for quite some time.

“Nice to meet you”, you mumble annoyed already.

Huh, his eyes rest right on your face, a small smile forming itself on his lips. You tilt your head to the side, squint your eyes in confusion. Well, this is definitely new. He didn’t even look at them, not a single glimpse onto your body.

“Is it true that you have a thing for blood manipulation? Yuji told me you are interested in learning more about that technique.”

“Well, yeah…”

You have to blink a few times. He is so…different from everyone else. Not even Megumi resisted the urge to look down at you, you even heard him talking about it with Yuji someday. But this man…what was his name again? Choso? He seems to be curious about…

You. Nothing but you.

“I am quite skilled when it comes to blood manipulation. If you want, I will gladly show you a few things.”

“Y-yeah…I mean…That would be nice. Like, today?”, you stutter awkwardly, completely caught off guard by this unexpected change of scenery.

“If you have time, of course.”

“Okay, then…I’ll change now.”

“I’ll meet you at the training field.”

“Yeah…”, you mutter.

As soon as you leave the room, Yuji seems to finally regain your voice.

“And? What do you think about her?”

“I think she seems quite nice for a human being.”

“And what else?”

A big pause that makes your heart shatter for a brief moment. Maybe he isn’t as different as you thought. Maybe he’s just thinking about your cleavage like everybody else does, maybe-

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“Haven’t you seen her,…y’know…Megumi?”

“He means her breasts”, Megumi clarifies.

“Why would I look at her breasts when she seems to have an interesting character?”

Your heart almost beats out of your chest, ears literally unable to comprehend what you’ve just heard. It really shouldn’t touch you like that. But oh, the second you begin to realize what that stranger just said your eyes get glossy. It might only be a little statement for him, but it surely means the world to you.

In a world that shames on you for something you can’t change, in a world in which men only took you on dates or talked to you because of your breasts and not because of your personality.

Choso seems to be the first person who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck about the way you look. And oh does it feel nice.

“Maybe you’re not as bad as I thought”, you mumble to yourself.

Yuji and Todo with a cury/tall girl

Just one look at him seems to sweep you off your feet. The way he walks, the way he talks, simply the way he carries himself. It wasn’t hard to fall for Yuji, but it was definitely rough to find out he isn’t interested in you.

“What kind of woman is Yuji actually into?”

Nobara looked at you up and down, visibly bamboozled about what you’ve just asked. There aren’t many things she doesn’t think about, but Yuji Itadori’s type is definitely one of them.

“I don’t know girl…But I guess he’s the type for rather short girls, don’t ya think?”

You hated the way your heart instantly began to ache in your ribcage. Of course he does. Aren’t all boys nowadays into petite girls with a bubbly personality? And to be honest, you are none of that.

Taller than all the other girls and even some boys around Jujutsu High, curvier than anyone else, probably uglier than the rest. You never put much thought into all of these things, but right. Why would Yuji be any different from all the guys you’ve met before?

“Who the hell is this woman, Itadori?”

Todo can’t help but shamelessly stare at you. This is too good to be true, a sight straight out of his dreams. You…You are even better than Takada-chan.

“Huh? Oh, that’s (y/n)”, he replies with a small grin, just one look at you making his heart stumble all over again.

He hasn’t seen you in quite some time now that he thinks of it.

“What kind of woman is your type, Itadori Yuji?”

The pink-haired boy has to blink a few times, eyes still set on your delicious curves and gorgeous long legs.

“I like tall woman with a big ass.”

“Is that your final answer?”, he huge boy next to him urges, grabbing him by his uniform so roughly that his eyes yank away from you.

“Yes!”, he replies immediately.

“Then get going, we need to talk to this beauty over there”, he announces, dragging Yuji behind him before he is even able to reply.

You tilt your head to the side. What the hell is going on over there? Who is that shirtless guy and…is that Yuji he drags behind him as if he’s taking out trash?

“You!”, he shouts into your direction, eyes seem to pierce right through your soul.

What the hell is this about? Should you run away, cry for help? He definitely looks pretty dangerous to you with the way his muscles seem to grow with every step he takes towards you.

“Hey, let me go! I can walk by myself!”, Yuji protests.

“Now talk to her”, Todo hisses, almost pushing him into you.

“Oh, hi (y/n)!”

“Well, hi Yuji…”, you answer rather confused.

You look even better from over here, your body lingering over his own by a few centimetres. Yes, you have to be the biggest woman Yuji has ever seen with a character so badass that no one can hold a candle to you. And those curves, those oh so delicious curves…

“Tell her what kind of woman is your type”, the guy next to him demands harshly.

“Stop being so damn loud, she hears you!”

“Oh, I definitely do. What is all of this bullshit about and what kind of freak are you exactly?”

“Itadori loves tall woman with a big ass.”

Well, that’s rather unexpected. Yuji turns as red as a tomato, not daring to shoot a single glimpse your way. But Nobara said that he likes petite girls and somehow, this always made sense to you. Still, his body doesn’t lie. And the fact that he doesn’t say anything against it tells you…

“You like tall woman with a big ass”, you repeat.

“Well, to be honest, I just like you, (y/n)”, he mutters along with scratching the back of his head awkwardly.

“I like you too. You have to be the hottest girl I’ve ever seen. Let me cherish you for the rest of our lives”, the guy named Todo purrs.

“Hey, I thought you were my wingman and now you’re trying to steal my girl away from me!”, Yuji protests.

“When did I ever say that, moron? We might be brothers, but this right here is my girl-“

“WE ARE NOT BROTHERS AND (Y/N) IS NOT YOUR GIRL!”

“I’ve been crazy about you for so long. I can’t believe you actually find me attractive, Yuji”, you interrupt their little chitchat.

Your heart feels light as a feather, so good that you are almost think about giggling out in sheer joy.

“Are you kidding? You are what dreams are made of, (y/n)! I was just too shy to admit…”

“I’d never be too shy to show my love. Pick me, (y/n)!”

“GET AWAY FROM HERE!”

“I’M NOT LEAVING MY GIRL BEHIND!”

"That's enough, I'm leaving. See you around guys", you announce with a sly grin.

"OUCH, DID YOU JUST SLAP ME TODO!?"

"JUST THE WAY YOU DESERVE IT, ITADORI!"

Tags: @arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld @hellkaiserinphoenix @lauv4chuuya @shadowfoxey @starlightanyaaa @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen @magalimachete @mokoartpost @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut @mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0 @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @wxwieeee @lovelyluna1 @froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife @coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain @risuola @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny @ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr @kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world @oikawarz

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runariya · 3 months ago

Text

The Auction (JJK) • Chapter 5

pairing: wolf hybrid!Jungkook x cat hybrid!female reader genre: mafia!AU, hybrid!AU, dystopian!AU, S2L, dark romance, slow burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: foul language, angst, being held hostage, obsession and possessiveness, zoomies and howls <3, humiliation, thoughts about escaping, murder, showing of female genitals, failed escape, attempt, manhandling, chocking (not the hot kind), slight identity crises, OC has shit parents, lmk if I forgot smth word count: ~ 2.7K

a/n: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

a/n 2: alright, listen, I’m really disappointed with auction myself. I thought I could tell short stories, but honestly, it all feels so rushed, unfinished, and shallow. I would’ve much rather fleshed it all out and made it flow better, but then the chs would’ve gotten way too long, which I didn’t want either, and now it’s all 💩 anywho, I hope you all still enjoy it lol

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

Today’s a day when you’re more bored than usual, not in a way that makes you moody, but in a way that, unfortunately, gives you the zoomies. You’ve been running around the penthouse for a straight hour now, using every elevated surface to jump on and off, hiding behind the curtains, and, shame on you, seeing how far you can nudge Jungkook’s sculptures before they topple off their stands.

You’re in your element, free, despite being still trapped here, when a tiny, beautiful red dot appears on the wall to your right. You stop dead in your tracks, eyes locking on it as your pupils dilate until there’s only black left. Wiggling your hips, you get ready to pounce on this lovely dot.

You charge at it, but it quickly darts from the wall to the floor and down the corridor, and you can’t help but zoom after it, desperately trying to catch it but always missing by just a hair’s breadth. The chase lasts a good few minutes—up and down the walls, over Jungkook’s couch, and back again—until it finally stops, and you think you’ve caught it, only to realise the dot’s not under your hands but on them.

“Huh?”

You move your hands away, only to quickly snatch at the dot again, only for it to still be on your hands, not under them.

Jungkook’s snicker snaps you out of your trance. Looking up, you see him standing in the study, which you hadn’t even noticed you’d run into, holding a laser pointer in his tattooed hand.

You’re absolutely mortified, utterly humiliated and so, you straighten up immediately and storm out, refusing to acknowledge the fact that Jungkook definitely caught you having fun.

Later that day, you’re rather surprised that Jungkook doesn’t mention it, acting like nothing unusual happened as he enters his bedroom, just like every evening. But this time, instead of shamelessly stripping off his clothes, he stares you down with a thoughtful gaze.

You just stare back, not the least bit bothered or scared, knowing he’ll, like always, be the one to break and talk first.

“Get dolled up, I’m taking you with me tonight.”

“Ugh, but I don’t wanna,” you groan, flopping down onto the bed, arms stretched out like the whole thing belongs to you. Images of your heat still flash through your mind sometimes, especially in moments like this when Jungkook stands all dominant at the foot of the bed.

He never touched you, even though you fucked yourself on him more in those few days than you ever did during past heats. Not that you haven’t had a partner before, but Jungkook’s body hits different, like his physique was made just for you.

“Don’t care. I’m not going to clubs without you anymore.”

That makes you sit up, a little confused, wondering why he wouldn’t want to go without you, like he’s your loyal boyfriend or something. Maybe you could use this as a chance to slip through his fingers. Play unwilling for a bit longer, and he might not suspect anything.

“Why?”

“Because I said so.”

“Ugh, you’re not my dad.”

His face hardens at that, but there’s no anger in his eyes, just a sadness you can’t quite place.

“Please get up and get changed, okay?”

Wow, Jungkook asking nicely? That’s a first.

“Fine,” you huff, getting up and pretending to be all sass and pouty as you disappear into the bathroom. But as soon as the door closes behind you, a bright smile spreads across your face.

It’s loud in here. So utterly, overwhelmingly loud, you think your eardrums might burst at any minute. Jungkook’s currently guiding you through the crowd, not dragging you by the wrist like usual, but with his fingers intertwined with yours, carefully making sure you can follow as the crowd parts for him.

You’re relieved when you finally make it to a private room. The noise is still there, but bearable now. You’re not the least bit anxious to see his usual group of friends, ones you’ve met a few times after the poker night.

Jungkook sits down on a couch where Yoongi’s already perched, and there’s enough space for you to sit beside him, but, like always, Jungkook pulls you onto his lap, his big hands cradling your middle as if it’s necessary to show everyone that you’re his, which you reckon is not.

Then again, you might take that back, because while everyone greets you warmly, Jungkook being ignored, which makes you giggle and him growl under his breath.

You didn’t expect clubbing with Jungkook to look like this–sitting in a private room with his friends, drinking quietly. There are no strippers or other women around, which makes you wonder why he even wanted you here in the first place.

The conversation between them is lively, but you don’t join in, not because it isn’t interesting, but because you don’t fully understand it. Jungkook’s fingers drawing soothing circles on your stomach and thighs don’t help either, as you sink deeper into his embrace, a light purr escaping you, you can’t seem to hold back due to the liquor coursing through your bloodstream.

It’s when Namjoon calls your name for the second time that you snap back to attention.

“Pardon?”

“I was asking if there’s anything in this conversation that interests you.”

That’s your chance to mess with Jungkook, play on his instincts the way he played on yours earlier.

“Hmm,” you pretend to think, dragging it out. “Well, there’s something I’ve always wondered.”

The men around you seem intrigued, leaning forward like they can’t wait to hear what you have to say. Even Jungkook shifts slightly under you, tilting his head to get a better look at your face.

“I’ve always wondered if this really is triggering or not,” you say with a wicked grin. Taking a deep breath, you tip your head back for dramatic effect and let out a howl.

It’s nowhere near a real wolf’s howl–too high-pitched, too low–but you feel Jungkook tense underneath you, his fingers digging into your thighs, while the others barely hold back their laughter.

And then, it happens. Jungkook, unable to hold back any longer, throws his head back and howls with you. The room erupts in chaos, everyone laughing while you clutch your stomach, trying not to explode with laughter, as Jungkook howls uncontrollably.

You’re sure you hear other wolf hybrids answering his call from the dance floor, which only makes the laughter in the room louder.

When Jungkook finally finishes, he slumps back into the cushions, his eyes closed as if he regrets ever bringing you here.

“We’re leaving,” he mutters flatly, clearly annoyed.

“Why? We’re having so much fun. Aren’t you having fun, love?” you tease.

His eyes snap open, locking onto yours, and suddenly, you fall silent.

He never looked at you like that, like you were someone else, no longer having the privileges you once took for granted.

You don’t waste time standing up, Jungkook following suit. You can’t bring yourself to meet anyone’s gaze, don’t even dare to say goodbye as you’re led out of the room by your wrist, the noise of the club grating on your ears.

Halfway through the crowd, some spider hybrid yells over the music, “Yo Jungkook, nice bitch you got there!” Jungkook releases your wrist for a moment, just long enough to pull out his glock and shoot the hybrid dead with a clean headshot.

Screams erupt and bodies start shifting in panic, but Jungkook’s hand is back around your wrist in seconds, dragging you out of the club in silence.

Once in his car, with him buckling you up and settling into the driver’s seat, you don’t need to look at him to know how furious he is. He drives like a maniac, halving the time it took to get there.

Soon you’re back at the penthouse and still unsure how to handle the situation. Apologising seems pointless.

“Bedroom,” Jungkook growls, and though you only gave him a taste of his own medicine, you know you’ve crossed a line you now wish you hadn’t.

But your own anger begins to boil again. Not just because of your own humiliation, but because he won’t let you leave.

You follow a seething Jungkook, your footsteps quick and angry, and when you enter the bedroom right behind him, you slam the door shut with a loud bang.

Jungkook turns, hands on his hips. “How dare you humiliate me in public?”

“Oh, fuck off, Jungkook. You humiliated me first.”

“We were alone! And we both had fun!” He barks, raising his hands as if that somehow makes his argument stronger.

“And those were just your friends!”

“Friends?! I trusted you!”

“It wasn’t that bad! Stop exaggerating.” You roll your eyes and move to head into the bathroom, but Jungkook’s having none of it. He strides towards you and tosses you onto the bed.

Still bouncing from the force, you mock him. “What’re you gonna do now, hm?”

“I’d like to fucking teach you a lesson.”

Fine, let him. You push your legs up, pull off your underwear, and spread your legs, showing your cunt to him as if ready to just get over with it. But Jungkook doesn’t move. He doesn’t even look down—just stares straight into your eyes. His gaze as hurt and defeated as yours.

“Come on, fuck me! What are you waiting for?!”

Jungkook’s shoulders slump, his eyes drop briefly to the floor as he shakes his head. When he looks back at you, all the fight’s gone.

“I’m never going to fuck you like some bitch, kitten.” He sighs, then turns towards the door. “I’m taking the couch tonight.”

Today’s the day, you can feel it. You’ve been preparing for this for so long, playing the perfect little kitten Jungkook sees you as since your fight, that you’re sure he won’t suspect a thing. He’s been gone for two days now, leaving you alone at his penthouse with all his goons, but you don’t mind.

Honestly, it’s the best thing he could have done for you, so it’s now or never.

It’s just past midnight when you know that his guards and maids have gone to sleep, always leaving just Oliver behind. An ant hybrid, a rookie, who’s more incompetent in this world than you are, and that says a lot.

You reckon he’s fallen asleep in front of the CCTV screens, leaving you with an open door to freedom. Literally.

Taking the elevator to the bottom floor isn’t an option, but the garage is the perfect place to start. You’ve scanned the cameras down there and covered the outside multiple times when Jungkook would often bring you with him, knowing where the possible blind spots might be.

And true to your assumptions, there’s no one you encounter—not a soul but your hurried footsteps echoing in the cold, wide parking lot.

You don’t really know how you’ll get hundreds of miles back home, but for now, you just need to get away. Ducking into the bushes right in front of the building, you try to make out how many goons are stationed by the entrance.

Spotting just two owl hybrids—which isn’t ideal but could be worse—you try to move silently through the bush, getting as close to the pavement as possible. Taking one more glance at the owls, you brace yourself to run, counting down in your head until you yank the leaves aside and sprint as fast as your feet can carry you across the street, into an alley you’d never normally go near.

At first, you’re not sure if you’re being followed, knowing that owl hybrids are far too quiet to hear, especially with your alarmingly fast heartbeat and panting drowning out all other noises. Still, you strain your cat ears, willing them to swivel backward, but again, there’s only silence.

You try to look behind you, but there’s no one—no one chasing after you—and it’s this distraction that makes you miss the rock in your path, your foot hitting it with a sharp thud as you roll over. You manage to stop the motion quickly, landing on one foot and your hands as you regain your balance and clarity.

It’s so odd that no one’s after you, especially when Jungkook’s such a possessive, obsessive freak. It doesn’t add up. It was just too easy.

Straightening up, you glance back down the alleyway where you came from. Still seeing no movement, you turn around—only to bump into a hard chest.

“Miss me?”

You try to turn and run again, but it’s no use. Jungkook is so much faster and stronger than you, reaching you in barely three steps.

“Let go of me!”

You thrash against his hold as if it would make any difference, but it doesn’t. He throws you over his shoulder like a doll and starts walking leisurely back to the building, as if it’s just another day.

“No can do, kitten.”

“Jungkook, I swear to god, put me the fuck down!”

You try to kick him in the stomach, but he just restrains your feet with his free hand. So hitting his back it is—but who are you kidding? It’s more of a massage for him than a beating.

“Or what?” Jungkook snickers, and you see red.

“Or I’ll beat the shit out of you!”

That makes him belt out a laugh you’ve never heard from him before—high-pitched and so beautiful that you’d fall in love with him in any other situation but this. His laughter is so intense that you bob uncontrollably on his shoulder, and there’s really nothing you can do but pout angrily, accepting defeat.

“I fucking hate you.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Yeah, I fucking loathe you.”

Jungkook just keeps snickering, snickering as he enters the building with everyone watching, snickering as he enters the elevator, nearly hitting your head on the closing doors, and snickering when he finally reaches his bedroom and gently sets you down.

However, his snickering stops when he sees your thunderous face, rage dripping from your eyes as your claws protrude over your crossed arms.

“I want to go home.”

“There’s no other home now but this one. Accept it.”

“Why don’t you just mark me and control me?! Huh?!”

“Because I know I don’t need to.”

But you see it differently and so you scream with all your might “Fucking let me leave, Jungkook!”

“No.”

At that, you charge at him, grabbing his throat and shoving him against the wall. You can’t keep living like this. You just can’t, not when your family and friends are desperately waiting for you to come back.

Jungkook doesn’t fight back, doesn’t defend himself. He just lets you strangle him, his arms hanging limp at his sides, eyes reddening from the pressure but still pleading for you to stop. It throws you for a loop because, frankly, his eyes—always soft, always showing every emotion he feels—have never betrayed his true intentions.

“Please don’t poison your soul by killing someone,” he croaks out, and that’s all it takes for you to push yourself away from him as if burnt.

Jungkook bends over, violent coughs escaping his reddened throat. You feel guilty, disgusted at what you’ve become, and you fear he’s changed you forever.

You collapse to your knees, utterly helpless as you try not to hyperventilate from the adrenaline.

“I’m sorry.” Jungkook, by now recovered but with a hoarse voice, kneels in front of you, taking your trembling hands and running his thumbs over your knuckles. “I truly am.”

“For what?”

You turn your head upwards to look at him, to see if he’s telling the truth. You’re sure he is, because the hurt in his eyes mirrors your own.

“Because even if I gave you the world, I couldn’t let you go back to that joke of a family.”

“What?” The word leaves your lips in a breath, confusion growing with every second as Jungkook’s eyes turn more livid.

“You got kidnapped because your parents sold you off, kitten.”

“No…” You pull your hands from his, crawling backwards as if to escape the truth—the truth written all over his face. “You’re lying.”

“I wish I were, kitten.”

You wish he were too.

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • masterlist • 6

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like!

a/n 4: taglist is sadly closed

Check out my other work here!

taglist: @jksusawife, @kookiewithluv, @justjkkkkk, @staytinyville, @jaiuneamesolitaiire , @ericawantstoescape , @mjuser, @sp1derk0ok , @fluttershyvanilla, @lachimolalajeon , @holylonelyponyeatingmacaroni, @llallaaa , @m00njinnie , @passionandsuga , @scuzmunkie , @lerasi , @11thenightwemet11 , @bts-ruu , @metalheadfangirl2001 , @unadulteratedwitcher , @qmsvpx, @minghaosimp, @kittycatkrissa, @weareatthebadlands, @fluttershy-vanilla, @bangtannie7

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eddiesxangel · 9 months ago

Text

Take Me to the Lakes | E.M x Reader ~ 2/6

Read part 1 here

Cw: angst, jealousy, pining, weed consumption, 18+ content MDNI

Wc: 4.4k

You didn’t see Eddie the rest of the day, but you did happen to run into Steve and yell at him for the most impromptu timing in the world. It has been a scorcher of a day, so you were elated that today was swim day.

The sun was sweltering; Robin and you had to triple-check that your campers had all the water-resistant sunscreen. You had worn your bathing suit under your jean shorts and Camp Murdock t-shirt, but you couldn’t take the sweaty cotton touching your skin any longer. You had to strip off the clothes that were sticking to your skin.

“I think I might die if I don’t get in the water now!” Robin complained. You could see her usually pin-straight bangs getting wavy from the sweat on her forehead.

“Same here, I can’t believe I didn’t think to put my hair up this morning." You could feel the sweat dripping down the base of your neck.

As soon as you reached the dock, you took charge and ensured that everyone in your group was fully aware of all the water safety rules. You then conducted a final head count of all the campers before jumping into the water yourselves.

Robin was the first to take the plunge, diving headfirst into the refreshing water. Despite the initial shock of the cold water, she resurfaced with a huge grin on her face, her teeth chattering with excitement.

“Holy shit, it’s freezing!” she squealed.

“Oh god, I don’t want to do it now,” you laughed as you stripped off your jean shorts.

Just as you were removing your clothes, Eddie, Steve, and Ashton came running around the corner, unable to stay in the heat themselves. Due to the hot weather, Eddie tied his long hair back, and his light grey shirt turned dark grey from sweat. They had just changed into their swimming trunks.

“Hey, look, the girls,” Ashton pointed to you and Robin.

Eddie had stopped dead in his tracks as he watched you. It was like you were moving in slow motion.

You still were taking your shorts off. Eddie watched as your peach of an ass bent over to step out of your shorts, your back arching as you peeled off the t-shirt. You wore your red bikini with little white hearts matched perfectly with the little heart inked into the skin on your right butt cheek.

Hold up, what? Eddie’s brain short-circuited. You not only have a tattoo, but an ass tattoo?

“Dude, hello, Earth to Eddie,” Steve was snapping his fingers in front of Eddie's face.

“ Huh, what?” Eddie reluctantly peeled his eyes away from you.

“You’d been staring at her for like five minutes, bro; just ask her out already.” Ashton laughed.

“Was not five minutes"

“So you admit you’re staring?” Steve smirks.

“How could I not? Don’t you have eyes?”

The guys laughed, and Eddie continued his gaze back to you when he saw Billy approaching you from the right. Eddie felt a sudden possessiveness over you when it came to that guy. He never liked Billy from the start. His off-putting comment and how he looked at you like he wanted to eat you were unsettling.

Eddie didn’t waste another second thinking about it; he started to run towards you, kicking off his slides and tossing his shirt before he grabbed you by the waist and flung you both into the water, laughing.

You weren’t paying attention to the boys behind you; honestly, you had no idea they were even there. You were too focused on working up the courage to finally jump in. Robin tried to convince you when you heard your name being called.

“Bambi, damn girl, you’re looking hotter than last year.” You turned and rolled your eyes immediately. Out of all people, Billy. You watched in disgust as he was ogling you while licking his lips.

Before you could even reply, a force pushed you into the freezing water.

When you breach the surface, you profusely try to catch your breath, looking around to see what the fuck just happened.

Your first instinct was to blame Billy for pushing you in.

“What the fuck Coyote?!” You were freezing, and the drastic temperature change had your teeth chattering.

“It wasn’t me!” his hands when up in defence.

You believe him, so you start looking around because he couldn't have, and you swore another person had jumped into the lake with you.

“Sorry, Princess. As your knight, I must fulfill my duty to you to save you.” A whisper echoed in your ear.

You let out a small scream, startled by his closeness, but when your heart settled, your flesh rose in goosebumps, not because of the cold of the lake water. Strong hands touch your waits turning you around to face your ‘saviour’

“Oh, my hero,” you fake swoon.

Eddie laughed, his head tipped all the way back so his hair was touching the water, his thick neck exposed, sending you into a daydream of leaving many a mark on that neck, but your thots were halted by Eddie pushing down on your head, dunking you back into the water.

“Edward Munson, I swear to God!” You screamed when you popped back up out of the water.

“Oh, my government name? You wound me, Princess.” He grabbed his chest like he had a knife in his heart.

You started to swim towards him, but the cold lake water was starting to numb your limbs. You couldn’t move fast enough; your teeth were still chattering, and Eddie could hear how cold you were.

“I'm sorry, Princess. I need to redeem myself.” He reached out and pulled you into his body, wrapping his arms around the small of your waist.

“You better be.” You shivered.

“Come, let's get you warmed up in the sun.”

He hopped out of the water, not even having to use the ladder. He reached down, holding out his hand to help you out, but you yanked him back down, and he fell head-first back into the water.

Eddie could only hear your laugh when he broke through the surface.

“I guess I deserved that.” He shook his head like a wet dog.

You were already halfway up the ladder when you felt his gaze on you. Eddie watched as you climbed up; he trialled right behind you, giving him a great view of the tattoo he wanted to know more about.

You quickly ran over to the towel that had been warmed by the sun. Shivering, you crouched down and sat in a ball to cover yourself with the whole towel.

“Come ‘er Princess, let's get you warmed up.” Eddie sat beside you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders with his own towel to cover you both before he started rubbing his hands up and down your arms to help you get warm.

You couldn’t help but lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder. Between the sun and Eddie, you warmed you up in no time.

You were at peace, the smell of coconut sunscreen, the sounds of splashing in the water, the warm feeling you were getting because Eddie was not only touching you, but hugging you.

“There you go, your majesty, all better,” Eddie smirked.

“You’re really not going to give up this joke, are you?” You laughed.

“Not in a million years, Princess.”

You and the girls were busily getting ready for a cozy after-the-bonfire hangout with the boys in the mess hall. You were there setting up some snacks and drinks on the table, and the soft glow of the fairy lights hanging on the walls added to the warm ambiance of the room.

Meanwhile, Eddie and his cabin were chatting and laughing, looking forward to the evening. As the night grew darker, they realized it was already 10:00 pm, and they needed to do one last check on the campers to make sure they were sound asleep. Once it was all calre the guys made their way to the mess hall.

“So you and Julie seem to be getting pretty close.” With his flashlight under his chin, Ashton wiggled his eyebrows at Eddie. Eddie shoves his shoulder lightly, laughing in response.

“I don’t know, man. I know her from home, is all.” Eddie shrugged.

“Come on, dude! You totally couldn’t keep your hands off her at the lake today; I saw you,” Ashton accused.

“Well, have you seen her? And I think she has been flirty with me? I don't know...she confuses me,” Eddie admitted, thinking back on earlier this morning when he thought you almost kissed him.

It's not like Eddie didn't want to believe it, it's that he can't believe it. Why do you, out of all people, want to be with him?

“I would go for it, dude, trust me. She is my best girl-friend, and I shouldn’t say anything, so I won’t, but if I were you, I would ask her out.” Steve joined in.

“You shouldn’t say anything? What’s that supposed to mean?” Eddie asked as they opened the doors to the hall.

“Sorry, man, sworn to secrecy, but trust me, bro.”

“Don't ever trust Moose.” Robin giggled, not knowing the context of the conversation.

“Hey, boys,” you smiled.

Eddie’s eyes met yours, and he smiled back, but his smile dropped when he saw Billy sitting beside you. Billy was like a mosquito who wouldn't leave you alone; he gave you no personal space even though you were seated at a twenty-foot-long picnic table.

He tried his best to ignore Billy; you had already said you didn’t like him, so why did Eddie feel jealous?

Instead, Eddie tried to focus all his attention on you, so he sat directly across from you. Eddie thought you looked cute tonight. Your natural hair was wrapped up in a messy bun, but shorter pieces framing your face.

You wore a heather grey Camp Murdock oversized crewneck sweater, blue and green plaid flannel pyjama pants, and pink fuzzy socks. He liked that you felt comfortable enough to not try hard like you do back home. Back home, he never saw your hair out of place or your outfit not coordinated. Not that Eddie didn't like that version of you, but he likes this version a whole lot more. It made you feel more real and less of this superhuman that the town dubbed you as.

“What are we playing today?” Eddie asked.

“A good old game of truth or dare,” Robin smiled.

“Oh god,” Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist. We have a little something extra to make it fun,” You smiled while showing the group the pre-rolled joint you pulled out of your pyjama pants pocket.

Eddie smirked at the thought of you, goodie two shoes, and buying weed. Then, his thought process changed… Who else would you get weed from if not him?

“The fuck you get that?” Eddie didn’t intend for it to be that harsh, but it slipped out like word vomit. Could this be trusted? How did he know it wasn’t laced or tainted.

“Oh, uh, I know a local guy.” Your smile dropped, and Eddie watched as you curled into yourself.

Fuck.

“Better be up to this guy’s standards,” Billy pointed to Eddie, only making it worse.

“You’re lucky I’m even sharing with you.”

“Let’s just start, guys, jeez.” Robin rolled her eyes.

You lit up first then passed it to Billy. Eddie seethed that he got it first. He almost grabbed it right from your hands but he knew he needed to control himself…

The game went on, and the typical stuff happened: streaking, truths about the first kiss, and chugging a combination of ketchup, mustard, and mayo. The joint was getting down to a nub, and it was really starting to take effect. The mood had been lifted, and Eddie noticed how you and the others were getting more giggly, whispering and plotting the next truths and dares.

Steve was up next, and he turned to you.

“Truth or dare?” Steve asks with a smirk.

“Truth,” you say confidently.

“Who was the last guy to give you an orgasm?” He gives you the biggest tooth smile.

Eddie’s ears perk up, his attention locked in. The bubbling feeling of jealousy almost formed again, but it disappeared as soon as you spoke your answer.

“No one.” You blushed.

“Come on, no one believes you, Bambi.” Steve retorts.

“I’m serious! Now shut up it's my turn.” You huffed.

Eddie was not surprised you’re a virgin; if you had slept with anyone, everyone in Hawkins would have known about it.

It sounds wrong, but Eddie was relieved when you said no one. Nobody would be able to please you like he could. The things Eddie wanted to do to you, worship you, take care of you…

“Eddie, hello! earth to Eddie!” Your voice snaps Eddie out of his daydreams.

“Huh? What?”

“Truth or dare,” you smile at him.

“Dare,” Eddie smirked.

“I dare you to kiss…Billy.” You, Robin, and Nancy burst into a fit of giggles like you’ve been plotting.

“I’ll kiss literaly any other guy. Try again, sweetheart.” Eddie sees you try to hide your smile at the pet name. Noted.

"Hey! What's wrong with me?"

"Everything..." Eddie rolls his eyes.

"Come here, big guy, let me plant one on ya." Billy began to chase Eddie around the room, and you, along with everyone else, couldn't hold in your giggles. It was really good weed.

The night rolled on, and everyone had to return to their cabins before you knew it.

“Well, boys, I am never skinny dipping at night again. I think my dick shrunk back into my body. Fuck, that lake is cold!” Ashton laughed.

“I never want to see those hairy cheeks again,” Eddie joined.

“I can’t believe what Bambi said, can you?” Steve piped up.

“About what?” Eddie asked.

“That no guy has ever gotten her off. You would think at least one would, you know” Steve exclaimed while brushing his teeth.

“Maybe that’s why she is acting like she has a stick up her ass; I can show her a good time, maybe replace that stick with mine, if you know what I mean.” Billy joked, cupping his crotch as he was getting his pyjamas on.

The joke wasn’t funny; the thought of any guy touching you made Eddie's knuckles go white. His face dropped into a sneer for a split second, but he caught himself. Fucking hell, Munson pulled it together.

“Shut up, dude. She wouldn’t touch you with a ten-foot pole.” Ashton laughed as he lay in his bunk.

“Oh yeah, we will see. She will come around.” He winked, and Eddie felt the s’mores in his stomach start to churn.

Eddie was about to let Steve know that there was no way on God's green earth that you had slept with someone, but his attention was shifted when Steve spoke again.

“Word is she likes someone,” Steve dropped casually as he climbed into his top bunk.

That caught the three men’s attention; they whipped around simultaneously, and all Steve could do was laugh.

“You guys are something else.” He chuckled and laid down to go to sleep.

Maybe Ashton was right; maybe his ever-growing crush on you was too obvious. Maybe he should dial it back more...

As the sun sets over Camp Murdock, the anticipation builds for the evening's main event - the camper's talent show. You, Eddie, and Steve have been chosen as the judges for the show, and it's an exciting responsibility. The venue for the show is the old barn on the property. You have carefully set up rows of chairs and cleared a decent patch of the floor to create a makeshift stage. The rustic and charming barn is adorned with twinkle lights that create a warm and cozy atmosphere. A folding table is placed before the judges, where they will take notes and make their final decisions.

As the kids prepare backstage, their nervous energy is palpable. The makeshift backstage area is just an old curtain hanging on a rod by the back right wall. You can hear the campers giggling and screaming in excitement and nervousness. Despite their jitters, they are ready to showcase their talents and make the night memorable for everyone.

You sat in the middle with Steve and Eddie on either other side of you.

“Are you going to strut your stuff up there later tonight?” you asked Eddie quietly, giggling.

To your surprise, he didn’t give you much of an answer, a grunt and a shrug of his shoulders.

That was weird; Eddie had been so warm yesterday. This was your first time seeing him today; maybe he’s tired?

You tried shaking it off, wanting to focus on the kids.

“They all did well. It was so cute to see them perform their dances and songs. One kid did a magic show, and another just showed off his rock collection. Ultimately, one of Eddie’s campers, who had a beautiful singing voice, won the talent show. As a consolation prize, everyone who participated got ice cream. After all the celebrations, everyone went to bed, and it was time for the counsellors to have their own talent show.

You're incredibly nervous this year because you have decided to do something bold. You haven’t told anyone about it, not even Nancy or Robin. It’s evident to anyone who knows you that you’ll be dancing tonight, but it’s usually a ballet number. However, tonight is different. You are determined to make your move and not waste more precious time.

You carefully rummaged through your bag, removing the skin-tight pleather black booty shorts and a shiny red, cropped tank top. You loved the way the two pieces hugged your curves, making you feel both sexy and confident.

Next, you moved to the bathroom and began styling your hair. You wanted to create a voluminous look, so you used a curling iron to add bouncy curls that cascaded down your back. You then applied makeup, starting with a base of foundation and concealer. You added smoky black eyeliner to your upper and lower lids and finished the look with bold red lipstick that made your lips pop.

As soon as you feel prepared and all set, you slip into your cozy grey sweatpants over your shorts, taking care to secure yourself from the pesky bugs outside. You then slide your feet into your sleek black dancing heels and grab your cassette tape.

Robin was the first to see you when you returned to the barn.

“Shut the fuck up; what are you doing?” she asked most affectionately. A growing smirk spreads across her face as you turn.

“You’ll see.” Your confidence was helping a little, but deep down, you were terrified. You’ve been so nervous you think you might be sick.

As the talent show kicked off, you were excited to spend the evening with Eddie, but he seemed distant. Despite your best attempts at conversation, Eddie remained quiet and disinterested in engaging with you. Later, when you tried to talk to him again, he brushed you off, leaving you feeling hurt and confused. You hoped that his behaviour was just a temporary mood, but the fear of failure lingered in the back of your mind. If the plan you had been working on together didn't come to fruition, you knew you would be mortified.

As the show went on, you unfortunately had the pleasure of going dead last. Eddie wasn’t a judge this time, but he was still sitting in the front row. Perfect.

As the host, Mike, asked for your tape to be put into the casket player, he saw your hands visibly shaking.

“Bambi, relax. It's just for fun; you do this every year. We all love your little ballerina stuff,” he smiled.

“Do I look like I’m dressed to do ballet— know what, never mind?” You didn’t mean to be snappy; Mike had always been nice to you.

As he walked out on “stage” to announce the next performance, you stepped off your sweats, pulled the zipper up the side of the black high heels and prayed that you wouldn’t fall flat on your face in front of Eddie.

“Last but certainly not least, we have a crowd favourite!” The audience, your fellow colleagues, clapped as you walked out. You heard someone whistle, most likely Robin and your stomach flip-flopped.

You walk out and face the back wall, standing in a bevel, arms hanging by your side, waiting for the chords to start.

The first notes of Led Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love dripped from the speakers.

Your body moved seductively once the music hit like you were in a trace performance mode.

Were you worried some of the other girls would call you a slut? Absolutely, but once the music started, all that went away.

You began dancing like you had when Eddie caught you in the studio that first day, but this time, with the hair, makeup, and shoes, you were more confident than you'd ever been.

A-way, way down inside

A-honey you need-ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah

I'm gonna give you my love, ah oh

The rush of being on stage made you lose yourself in the routine, however the part you had been most nervous about was coming up.

A-way, way down inside

You stood facing the crowd with your head thrown back, your right hand ran down your stomach, grazing past the waistband of your shorts that hardly covered anything, down cupping your core, then slinked it back up again.

I'm gonna give ya my love

Your head snaps back up, and you took a slow strut forward.

I'm gonna give ya every inch of my love

another slow step forward

I'm gonna give ya my love

You reached your target as you slowly sank to your knees right where Eddie was sitting. Giving him a small wink before you whipped your hair, you looked back up at him through your lashes, and you saw his jaw was clenched, and his hands were balled up white-knuckling.

You reached up with a single hand and grazed it over his left thigh before slinking back down to roll away and get back to the rest of the routine.

By the time you had finished, you were out of breath. Everyone cheered, and a few whistles were made as you walked off stage, but when you looked around, Eddie was gone.

Your heart sank. The overwhelming feeling of embarrassment washed over you, leaving you exposed and vulnerable.

Of course, he wouldn’t want you in that way.

You were a fool to think he ever would.

You were naive to think changing your appearance to be like the edgier sexy chicks he probably goes for. You literally pulled a Sandy for Grease. You tried putting yourself out there, doing this dance, but now you felt the tears welling up; the lump in your throat grew. You felt like an idiot.

You needed air. You took off your shoes, put your pants back on, and walked out the barn's back door.

“Bambi, wait up.”

You turn to see Billy.

“Uh, hey,” You try to keep your voice as neutral as possible, forcing yourself not to let it crack.

“You were amazing up there!” He smiled and gave an encouraging hug.

“Thanks, Coyote, that's really sweet for you to say.” You sniffled.

“Hey, are you okay?” he pulled away to see your tears threatening to leave the rims of your lash line. “No, no, it’s okay. Don’t cry; everyone thought you rocked it!” He pulled you into another comforting hug.

This was the most genuine Billy’s been with you all summer. This was the Billy you knew and loved last summer.

“You really think so?” you ask trying to pull yourself together.

“Yes! Of course; what’s gotten into you?” He looked concerned.

“Nerves, I guess.” You try to shrug it off, but you can’t shake the feeling.

“Well you did amazing, you won!” He gave me a congratulatory kiss on the cheek; it was soft and hardly grazed your skin.

“Thank you.” You pulled him in for another hug. You just needed a friend right now, and I missed this version of Billy.

“You know there is another way I can make you feel better.” He chuckled.

“And the moment ruined, ugh. Why do you do that?” he laughed as you stepped away.

You found Cassie and the other girls back at the cabin.

“Hey guys.” You sniffled as you walked to your bed.

“Babe, you were amazing up there! Who knew you could move like that!” Clover cheered.

“You are one hot Mamma!” Nancy giggled.

“Bam, what’s wrong?” Robin asked after you hadn’t really said anything back. She came to sit beside you and wrapped her arm around your shoulder.

“It’s silly…” tears threatening to run down your cheeks once again.

“Hey, it’s just us." Nancy reached over and touched your hand.

You let out a heavy sigh.

“I feel like such an idiot! I did that whole thing to get Eddie’s attention, but he was gone before I even finished dancing.” You hid your face in your hands, too embarrassed to look at your friends.

“If you ask me, he looked like he was trying to contain himself. Girl, you did that to him with no warning! Hell, even I wanted to jump your bones just watching you.” Robin giggled.

“Really? Do you think so? You don’t think he was mad or put off? I saw his face—he looked annoyed. Like he was uncomfortable. Even earlier, he was cold to me.” You grabbed a tissue and blotted away your blackened tears.

“Nah, Bams, he looked like a man trying not to pop a boner, especially when you touched his thighs! Holy shit, I thought he would blow his load right there.”

Nancy managed to pull a laugh off of you.

“Thanks, guys; I think I'll feel better in the morning.” you sighed and gave them each a hug, then got ready for bed.

Next chapter

Tags: @winchester-angel @josephquinnsfreckles @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @emma-munson @littlexdeaths @siriuslysmoking @peachysink @nailbatanddungeon @leelei1980 @daisy-munson @taintedcigs @take-everything-you-can @strangerstilinski @bl0ssomanddie @seb-buckybarnes @chickenandsheep-blog @lokis-army-77 @ali-r3n @erinekc @impmunson @snowflowersstars246 @micheledawn1975 @princesatracionera @bells-28 @kellsck @guineveresghost @ezzynf @oneforthemunny @paybacksawitch

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie Munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #Eddie Munson au #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x y/n #take me to the lakes #Eddie Munson #eddie munson x oc #Eddie Munson camp au

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aidemint · 2 years ago

Text

To Break A Habit | Routine Doesn’t Get You Kisses Like These

Summary: You kinda-actually find out he wasn’t joking about the spider stuff. Okay. But you’re totally cool about it. Totally.

Word Count: 5.1k

Pairing: Hobie Brown/GN!Reader

Notes: 5 minutes of screentime and i’ve already wrote more about this guy in a week than i usually write about anything in three months jesus christ

Masterpost | AO3 | Part 1 | Part 3

“40081’s got this hoodoo shit goin’ on.” Hobie sighs as he makes his way down the main hall of Spider-HQ, recounting his mission discoveries from days prior. “Some sort of bad luck spell that’s making the world lose its plot.”

Gwen paces beside him, listening intently. “Sinister Six behind it?” she asks with a frown. “Or do you think it’s something else?”

“Not certain,” Hobie responds with a shrug. “But I’m close to catching the anomaly. Things should reset once it’s out of the fabric.”

“Hope it gets resolved soon.” Gwen sucks in a breath from between her teeth. “Miguel’s not looking too happy these days.”

Oddly enough, the mission so far had been almost deceptively easy—three days into the operation Hobie had already located and shut down a multitude of energy pockets emanating from certain parts of the city. A variant of Mysterio or Osborn was bound to show up soon, as the sites were likely siphoning vitality from the dimension. Now he just needed to gather intel about the effects of the magic while playing the waiting game. Luckily for him, he has a direct source.

“Relax Gwendy, it’ll be fine. I even got in touch with one of the locals for—” Hobie starts assuredly, turning to address his drummer, but pauses and swivels around when she’s noticeably no longer keeping up with his stride.

“You what?” Gwen stands frozen in the middle of the walkway, eyes blown as large as dinner plates with her mouth slightly ajar. She readjusts herself with a shake of her head, though her hands and shoulders remain raised and stiff. “Hobie, please tell me you’re not getting to know a civilian. ”

“Then I won’t tell you that I’m ‘getting to know’ a civilian.” A roll of his shoulder and he’s back walking, half-lidded eyes peering at Gwen when she inevitably joins again, bobbing and weaving through a downcurrent flow of Peter Parkers. “And I won’t tell you that it’s strictly for information about the mission.” A coy smile tugs the edges of Hobie’s lips upward. “Probably.”

Gwen looks just about ready to explode at the last quip. “You just told me— Oh my God, you know that, out of everything, is against protocol. Very against protocol,” she hisses, her voice lowering as her lip curls and she leans further into the privacy of only each others’ company. “What will you do when Miguel finds out?”

“You gotta live freely past the propaganda, Gwendy,” Hobie replies nonchalantly, patting a palm on her shoulder as a point of reassurance. “Just think about it.”

The best Gwen can offer him is a wary glance and a moment of hesitation, but he takes it with a grin anyhow. He’s certain she’ll eventually come around—the extent of their friendship isn’t something so miniscule that a few words of indoctrination would ever be enough to turn her.

It’s a nice notion to have, but he unfortunately doesn’t get much time to dwell on it—suddenly, his watch buzzes with an alert.

Hobie checks the device. “Someone’s ringing me, gotta bounce.” A few taps of an orange screen and a twist of a dial, then a portal opens up just shy of his left arm. “Been fun, Gwendy. Don’t blame me if I come back late.”

No matter how hard she rolls her eyes, Gwen can’t help but give into the smile that creeps onto her lips. “Stay safe, loser,” she responds, bumping her fist against his.

“Safe is practically my middle name.” With that, Hobie ducks into the gateway, and disappears.

How the fuck do you accuse someone of having spider powers without sounding like you’ve gone insane? Since morning you’ve been stuck in a cycle of decision-making for a seemingly hopeless situation. You thought the hard part was over after seeing the guy in the costume swing away on white silly string, but the mostly sleepless night and brainstorming the resolution to be had was another beast altogether. What doesn’t help much either is the fact your favorite pair of jeans are now stained to shit because an idiot thought it would be a good idea to trickshot a half-full Starbucks drink into a trashcan you were standing right next to.

Oh, New York, how it surprises you each day. You swear you’ve never had bad luck like this in your life—and now you’re twenty minutes late, punching in your timecard and hurrying to tie on an apron.

Even through your shift the anxiety doesn’t go away, despite how you try to ignore it. Nervous energy bleeds into your work, shaking hands spilling and dropping drinks; your preoccupied mind is nowhere near as focused as you need to be for the rush—you remake a drink three times in a row before being on the receiving end of a tired lecture from an angry customer.

“Something on your mind?” one of your coworkers ends up asking after most of the crowd has dissipated. “Or just tired?”

You’re on the verge of bursting into tears actually, but you manage to stifle it with a deep breath in. “A lot of both,” you mumble in response. You can’t tell her about Hobie, and it’d be too winding to describe the entirety of everything. She’s pretty good at giving looks of pity and she’s already shot you one following the complaining customer. Honestly another one is the last thing you want to deal with right now. “Maybe I should’ve just skipped work today.”

“Don’t worry, we all have bad days,” she offers with a consoling pat on the arm. “How about you just calm down for a bit and take your break? I’ll make you your favorite drink and get a bowl started for you.”

The gesture does ease your nerves, even if only by a little. You sigh, shoulders slumping, and give your coworker a grateful smile. Parting ways then, she returns to her station to honor her word and you make your way to the back to punch in the start of your break.

Exhaustion starts to seep in when you catch yourself staring blankly at the time card machine, watching the hands of the clock tick away second by second. There hasn’t been significant progress in terms of settling the whole “Hobie Brown is a superhero” dilemma, you realize, just a lot of pain and aching on your part. Maybe it’s time to put the matter to rest just for a brief half an hour—you’ll pick it up later. There isn’t even a guarantee Hobie will show up to the shop anyhow.

Yeah, you have time.

The chunk sound of the punch machine brings you back to your senses and you put away your slip before making your way back to the front of the house.

“Drink’s ready and bowl’s on the way. You can enjoy that while you wait,” your coworker chirps, sliding a cup to you when you emerge from the back. You’re just about to voice your thanks before she cuts in again, gesturing to a spot just beyond the counter. “Oh, and someone asked for you. He’s right over there.”

Your eye is already twitching before you even look. But you suppose you hate yourself and the world at this point, because you slowly turn to where her hand points regardless and find the one man you just made a pact with yourself to not think about.

Hobie greets you by name and gives you a friendly wave. Out of courtesy, you force yourself to return in, lips pressed together in a tight smile with the short extension of your hand.

“Heard it was your break,” he says, approaching the glass panel between the two of you. “Mind if I intrude?”

Yes! you scream internally. Yes I do mind very much!

“No, it’s alright,” you end up saying to him, staving off a growing impulse to whack yourself upside the head.

“Sick,” is all Hobie replies with before he retreats to a nearby table. “I’ll be waiting here—don’t rush yourself.”

It’s right about now that you’re wishing he wasn’t so nice and you didn’t like him so much so that this process of confrontation would go about smoother. Your gaze lingers on him and you bite in the inside of your cheek as you think about the validity of what you witnessed yesterday.

The option to not tell him and maintain your chances of still potentially becoming friends like normal exists. Dodging the awry reputation that comes with the manic conspiracy theorist persona is always good. You’ll get over it one day, right? Leave the suspicions behind and assume that the image was just a hallucination brought about by stress; convince yourself that Hobie Brown is just your average British punk-rocker.

But you can’t fight the feeling in your gut, how it burns, and suddenly you’re leaning over the counter, over the glass.

This is a bad idea. “Hobie,” you call in his direction.

He looks up. “Yeah?”

Shit, this is a bad idea. “I have something to tell you.”

“Wah’gawn?”

“It’s… I think it’s a matter best told in just our own company.” You look around apprehensively, a slight crease in your brow. “Mind going somewhere more private?”

Trying your best to ignore the suggestive look your coworker shoots at you from your peripheral, you beckon Hobie to come into the back. Walking through the kitchen, you usher him into the storage pantry and shut the door behind you when you join him.

“I’m guessing we’re not just here to kotch?” Hobie teases with the sideways tilt of his head.

“Unfortunately.” Your gaze lowers to the ground at the admission, fingers finding one another and squeezing. “Been thinking about something for a while.”

Hobie lets the change in the air stew until it thickens before responding. “Ready when you are.” His voice is softer, malleable, lost of all its previous playfulness and replaced with a certain kind of sincerity.

The slightest incline of your chin brings your stare back to him. You wish it served the simple purpose of just admiring the slopes and angles of his face, but your lips part and your curled hand trembles, and it all reminds you of the gnawing insecurity.

“I need you to tell me the truth.” You say it slowly, sincerely, keeping your voice as steady as you can despite the way your heart rate thunders. “Please.”

In your supplication, you aren’t certain how to appraise the extent of your desperation, but Hobie’s gaze does not leave yours. He nods wordlessly, a glint of something in his eye and it looks a lot like deference.

You take it as permission to continue. “When you brought up Parker”—you swallow thickly—“you were talking about something real, weren’t you?”

A beat of silence. There isn’t any external reaction from Hobie, standing as still as he had the moment he stopped in front of you, face lax and hands tucked away in his pockets.

“Ain’t got a Scooby-Doo what you’re talking about,” he says plainly, unfaltering in every word. Even then he doesn’t move, fortress-like in his disposition.

Perhaps he truly doesn’t know what you mean, you think. The chance is present, albeit slim, though present nonetheless—and how tightly you clutch this sliver of hope. But for a moment, in your hesitancy and under Hobie’s untelling stare, doubt creeps in—your palms grow clammy against the material of your pants, sweat assisting the glide of your fingers against one another. Your eyes search those of the man in front of you, wishing his look could change so you could find the courage to ground yourself.

What if you’re wrong? What if it’s all a fallacy, some trick of the light? New York is no stranger to oddities but even this seems too extreme. Coincidental talk of Spider-People leading to an impossible accusation. Fucking Spider-People don’t—shouldn’t—exist. The idea grows more absurd the longer you question it. Peter Parker got the short end of the stick, if there was even a long end in the first place, so what the hell are you doing?

But what if you’re right?

A breath rattles through you. “Hobie.” With a new waver in your voice and a tremble to your hands, you stand unsure of how your conviction bleeds through what you say but you try anyhow. “I know you’re gonna think I’m crazy, but I saw a masked man walking on the side of a building yesterday.” The admission comes quickly, riddled with cracks, but you’re entirely too focused on the followup to care. “After the conversation we had about Spider-People, after the whole thing about superheroes, tell me that it wasn’t you up there. Because I saw your— your fucking pins and I’ve never— God, I don’t even know! I’ve never seen something like this.”

Your fists clench, fingers digging crescent-shaped craters into the flesh of your palms. The marks bite, angry red and stinging—perhaps aching even more the absence of Hobie’s response, the seconds you give him to reply.

“Who are you?” Dry—your throat is so dry. Your voice can’t be anything above a whisper with how hoarse the question comes, flaking away with every shallow breath you take.

Silence blankets the both of you then, soundless space a limbo between comfort and unease. Unsure of what to do with it, what to make of the situation you stand in now, you let it hang listlessly, drawing upon an empty room and an even emptier conversation.

It takes a handful of moments for Hobie to even look like he’s processed all that you’ve said. Under your scrutiny, the smallest movement of his eye is the only discernible change to the testament. Whatever goes on inside his head is a complete mystery to you for the few minutes that elapse before he speaks.

Finally, he shifts in his stance. “You want me to just come out with it, yeah?” he asks, not sounding terribly happy, but not as nonplussed as you expected. He sighs when you nod slowly. “Alright. I’ll start from the top, then.”

He tells you his name is still in fact Hobie Brown, and he was bitten by a radioactive spider three years ago. Formerly a runway model, though not a role model, he’s been protecting the streets of his hometown against the PM. When he’s not playing shows, antagonizing fascists, or staging unpermitted political “action-slash-performance art pieces,” he’s out partying with his friends.

“And don’t call me a hero,” he ends with a frown. “Hate the label. Calling yourself a hero makes you a self-mythologizing, narcissistic autocrat.”

When he stops, you have both hands to your temples, pressing down hard. You can deal with his anti-authority spiel just fine—some part of you even agrees with the sentiment—but there is so much to unpack prior to the statement.

“So you— you have actual spider powers? Oh my God?” you sputter, eyes blown wide in an expression of surprise you’re sure looks exaggeratedly dreadful. “What even— that’s— what even are spider powers?”

“Dunno really.” Hobie gives a shrug. “Enhanced hearing, speed, vision, and sticking to walls are the main perks. Also links up to my—”

“Can you shoot webs out of your butt?” you blurt in a sudden horrible realization.

There’s a few seconds of tense silence before Hobie bursts into laughter, arms crossed around his torso to hold himself, shoulders bunched to his ears. The ring of his joy through the air lifts a weight from it and suddenly the atmosphere doesn’t feel as crushing as before.

Witnessing his state, it doesn’t take long for unease to fade away and for you to start softly chuckling with him.

“You’re so jokes,” Hobie cackles, a hand over his eyes as he leans back. A long, shuddering breath tears through him in his attempt to calm down. “But to answer your question, no I can’t shoot webs out of my arse.”

“Thank God,” you breathe, clutching your heart. “Wouldn’t have looked at you the same if you said you could.”

“I don’t think I can look at you the same after you just asked that.”

“Hey, in my defense it was just to get to know you better.”

“I’m sure that’s all it was.” Hobie gives you a pointed look, but is quick to smile after. “Speaking of which, I came in to ask you something as well.”

“Oh?” You blink. The sudden shift in conversation is unprecedented, taking you slightly by surprise, but suspicion is quick to replace your wonderment when you notice a change in Hobie’s features. A squint narrows your eyes. “What are you plotting?”

“Nothing, it’s just I have an excuse now that you know me better.” He pauses briefly, staring at you for a moment. “I wanted to ask if I could know you a little better.”

Your lips purse in confusion at the phrase, forehead pinching. “But you already know me?” you ask, brow raised. “Don’t tell me you forgot everything already.”

“I didn’t,” Hobie reassures gently. “I was just thinking instead of talking over a counter we could do it over dinner? Maybe a movie, if you have the time?”

A beat passes and suddenly realization sets in, drawing all the air out of you. The smallest groan escapes you as you bury your face in your palms, the skin of your neck and cheeks burning hot. Every inch of you seems more sensitive in your mortification—were you always this close to Hobie, and was his cologne always that strong?

“I’m an idiot,” you whisper from between the gap in your hands. “God, I’m such an idiot.”

Hobie supplies a soft chuckle to ease your embarrassment. “You’re not. It came out pretty corny anyways.”

“I can’t believe I’m getting asked out by a guy with spider powers.”

“Is that a yes or a no?”

You groan again, a tight breath pressed against your fingers. “You are so lucky you’re cute, Hobie Brown.”

It is as endearing as it is exasperating that you can practically hear how big his smile is. “You free tomorrow?”

“Anytime past five,” you reply softly, slowly inching your hands away from your face to peer at him. “Where should I meet you?”

Hobie’s grin tilts sideways at the query, a new sparkle of mischief brightening his eye. “I’ll come pick you up.”

Dates aren’t exactly a new concept to you—you’ve been on a handful, and they all go about the same. The first time, someone shows up with flowers or a small gift to start the evening right, then you’re whisked away for three hours to some place to hang around and have fun. It’s conventional, it’s safe—sometimes you enjoy the company more than the actual activity, leading to a second or third outing, but there’s nothing too special about the dance you do with routine.

Along this line of reasoning, Hobie crash-landing on your balcony with one of the most ridiculous offers of transportation isn’t exactly the way you imagined your date would start.

“You are not web-swinging me to Manhattan,” you tell him, still inside your apartment, arms crossed and shaking your head vigorously. “I don’t care what you have set up, I’m not gonna risk going splat on the damn concrete.”

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” Hobie pushes playfully. “Promise I won’t drop you.”

You frown, brows furrowing and lips pursing as you glare at him. He returns the look as calm as ever, a slight smile edging the corners of his mouth and stance open in invitation. The way he holds himself has uncertainty creeping to you, forcing out your fervent disagreement in favor of consideration in a rather slick way of persuasion.

Perhaps you should’ve known you wouldn’t win, with the sheer difference in your demeanors. Your staredown continues for a couple of minutes before you sigh, breaking eye contact with a reluctant drop of your chin and a gentle moan of diffidence.

“Can I at least close my eyes?” you mumble, walking out and shutting the balcony door behind you.

“You can do whatever you want,” Hobie replies, sliding on his mask and gloves. “Just hold on tight.”

Stifling a breath when his arm wraps around the small of your back and under your thighs, you cling to his shoulders as he lifts you up and climbs on the railing.

“You ready?” His chest rumbles under your touch when he speaks, and you can only give a small nod in your position, heart pounding against your ribs and face buried deep in the nape of his neck.

Hobie laughs—a deep, warm sound—and then launches off your balcony.

There are no words to truly describe the feeling that swallows you while in freefall. Wind blasts past your ears in violent howls, gravity pulls your figure down but your insides up, and the only thing you have to ground yourself is the feel of Hobie as you clutch him with every bit of strength you possess. Adrenaline thrums through every vein, lighting your nerves on fire and prickling your skin with gooseflesh; even your energy to scream depletes into fueling the rush that floods your senses.

Upon the first pull up, Hobie’s web catching a surface to swing from, your gut lurches and a serrated gasp shudders through you. Your arms pull you impossibly closer to him, fingers clawing to dig deeper into the back of his vest.

“Easy now,” he chuckles, sounding miles away with how loud your heart beats in your ears. “I promised I wasn’t gonna drop you, didn’t I?”

“D-Doesn’t make it better,” you gasp, shivering now that the breeze whips against your back.

“Try to relax—we’ll be there soon.” Though he says it like it’s the easiest thing in the world, it proves contrary to the way his grip tightens around you with the next swing.

Despite how comforting the gesture is, you find that you can’t relax much while still flying through New York a hundred feet in the air.

After what seems like days of travel, Hobie finally lands on solid ground, giving you a moment to catch your breath before setting you down gently. His arms are threaded underneath yours as you try to balance on shaky legs, knees bent and feeling all too much like jelly for your own comfort.

“I feel like a newborn deer,” you sigh, voice trembling from the withdrawal of adrenaline. Jitters quiver your fingers, lightly chatter your teeth, and shake the thin chamber of your chest. “My God, how do you even get used to this?”

“Gotta learn to trust yourself,” Hobie hums smoothly. “First time’s always a tad tricky.”

You only nod, gaze now pinned to the ground as he gradually guides you forward, step by step, until you’re stable enough to slowly walk on your own. From there, the slightest incline of your head brings your attention to a small spread of food and flowers laid out nicely on a patterned blanket. A warmth comes to settle in your core at the sight, softening your eyes and easing the tenseness in your limbs—contentment reaches you and the stress gained from the ride here begins to fade, if only by a little.

“Hobie, this is so sweet,” you coo, pleasure lightening the tone of your voice.

His rings just as sweetly through the evening air. “Good to hear—would’ve been gutted if you didn’t like it.”

You laugh at the response, casting an affectionate glance at him that just grows fonder upon meeting his charming reciprocation. The bend of his brow, the part and curve of his lips, the crinkle of his eye—all of it has you transfixed for a generous moment, barely able to notice the way your navel aches with longing in your stupor.

The feeling persists throughout the evening, present in every winding conversation and instance of quiet shared between the two of you. It’s rather freeing to be unconstrained by the formalities usually held by the label of a first date and to sense such endearment for the whole of it. There is no talking to only talk—every sentiment has meaning, every word punctuated by some semblance of tenderness; there is no awkward atmosphere brought about by nervous tension—you rest comfortably, leaning back on your hands, as does Hobie, elbows on crossed legs, positioned towards you.

Hours pass by easily in the space, kissing the sky with hues of orange and gold and violet as they bid a teary farewell, trails of light following in the wake of their departure. Yawning clouds push to the east, unlined shapes dissipating with the fleeting luster. Soon, the New York city skyline is only a bleak, black horizon that cradles a half-yolked sun just shy of its surface.

Golden rays grace your skin, full and temperate and real. You’re just about to gush to Hobie about how this is your favorite time of the day when you’re stopped by the shallow movement of his arm.

He shifts to pick the carnation laid closest to your hand, snaps off the longer part of its stem, then tucks it delicately behind your ear. Wordlessly, he adjusts the petals, and grins when they seem to his liking.

You’re practically bursting at the seams when he retracts his hand, fingers ghosting the curve of your cheek on their path back. Heat rushes to your neck, white-hot on a quick shot up to heat every inch of your face. The sensation catches your breath, widens your eye, tucks the tip of your bottom lip between your teeth, and all you can do is sit and watch Hobie as he admires you.

There’s a look in his eye that you hope is reflected in yours, how beautiful he is. The warm vermillion hue of the sun hits his complexion and it’s like there’s nothing else in the world to behold but him.

Suddenly you find yourself reaching for the flowers on the blanket, clasping multiple in one hand and halving the stems with the other.

Leaning forward, palms stained with sap, you place the carnations in each of Hobie’s wicks, uncaring of the smell of chlorophyll or the tremble of your fingers. You only return to your seat and wipe your hands when you finish, the expanse of his head dotted in small blooms, all that’s left of the original bouquet messily cut stems and loose leaves.

A breathy laugh escapes you at the sight, light and happy and bright. “You are so pretty, Hobie,” you whisper, your heart swelling with adoration. “And I wanna kiss you so bad right now.”

He smiles. “I’m not going to stop you,” he says, then wraps his arms around you when you crush your lips to his.

You feel you must be drunk on something, but are entirely too far gone to care the slightest bit. Hobie is every bit as soft and warm as you imagined, his hold homely, his scent familiar. Breathing him in, bergamot, plum, and sandalwood filling your lungs, a dreamy sigh stutters out of your nose before you start to move.

The kiss takes on a steady rhythm then, perhaps the easiest thing you’ve had to follow. Each press of your lips against his finds just the right amount of resistance, the feel of his piercing snug as it nudges you in every shift. Your hands find purchase in cupping his face, fingertips smoothing the silver studs that line his ears and thumbs stroking his cheeks.

Hobie’s touch rests just shy of your waist, the bend of his elbows against your ribs, palms flat against your scapula. His chest rises and falls with every breath, a slight hitch in the motion when you crawl to his lap, sitting in the space between his legs.

The two of you share your own pocket of heaven for a minute longer, then with one last kiss, you part. As your eyes flutter open, Hobie slides a hand off your back to thumb your lip, swiping a finger across your bottom one.

You make a questioning noise but remain unmoving as he works, sliding his digit across sensitive skin.

“My lipstick got on you,” he explains when he finishes, showing you black makeup smeared on his thumb. “I liked the look of it, but didn’t know if you did.”

A gentle laugh spouts from you at his kindness. “I’m all for you giving me a makeover next time,” you say with a grin.

Hobie gives a small chuckle back, delight sparkling in his eye. “Good.”

The afterbuzz of the date still tingles the back of Hobie’s neck even hours later. It’s ten o’clock, the moon at highrise and not a single star in sight in the muddy violet pool that overhangs New York. He’s in the middle of a stakeout, monitoring an energy station reopened as bait for whatever, whoever, might come out in response. The task of fully focusing proves rather hard in the wake of remembering the warmth of you as you held him, the brush of your lips against his, and your small gasps of breath, but he tries anyhow.

Hobie’s just finished shaking off the image of your face in the light of dusk when his watch buzzes. He looks down with a frown, noting the peculiarity of receiving a call this late.

“Gwendy,” he greets, an orange hologram of Stacy appearing with the twist of a dial. “What are you ringing me for?”

“Hey Hobie,” she returns flatly, not providing much else before quickly casting her gaze askance.

From her projection, Hobie can gather that something seems off—Gwen’s stance is completely closed, arms crossed and feet together. What looks like nervousness twists her features, pinches her forehead, pulls her lips tight together. She’s never been good at hiding her emotions, but even this seems exaggerated.

Sobriety seeps into Hobie then, the high of hours ago eroding. “Something wrong?” he asks, voice dropping low.

Gwen pauses, hesitating. “Miguel wants you back at HQ,” is what comes from her after a few seconds. “Now.”

“What about the mission?”

“He just says to leave. There’s been some new intel. That’s all I know.” Gwen swallows thickly, her eyes flickering back to Hobie. “See you soon.”

“Alright, see ya.” The hologram blinks twice, then disappears. Hobie taps on his watch to open a portal back to Earth-928, dubiety sinking its teeth into his thoughts. Miguel was ever the autocrat, so he was never quite fond of the guy, but the way Gwen had come to him—with a fresh feeling that extended beyond terror etched in her expression—that doesn’t sit well. He doesn’t need a spider-sense to recognize that something is amiss.

Somehow, he can’t elude the feeling of dread that creeps to him when he’s swallowed by the vortex.

#hobie brown x reader #hobie brown/reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown/you #hobie brown #across the spiderverse #across the spider-verse #hobie brown imagine #fluff #angst #kissing <3 yeah #miguel o'hara #gwen stacy #i wish this kiss were a canon event i really do #yeah uh hold onto your hats for the last part

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wrencatte · 12 days ago

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1. I wrote this at 3am while sick 2. this ended up longer than I intended... and 3. it also ended up less whumpy then intended Cal gets (atypical) absence seizures. Cere POV - Cal, Cere, Greez. word count: 1,547

“Cal? Cal, are you even listening to me?” Cere looks up at Greez’s tone and frowns when she spots the teenager in question staring absently into the distance. Greez waves a hand in front of his face before looking over a her, concern on his face. “Is this one of those, what did he call them? An echo?”

She sets her datapad to the side as she gets up. “It could be,” she says, but doesn’t quite believe it. Cal’s shown her multiple times what it’s like for him to experience an echo, from benign all the way to traumatizing (and she would rather not witness that ever again), and the Force always gets this…feeling when he’s in an echo. One of the few things she’s willing to reach for, cut off from the Force like she is. This isn’t quite like that, but she can’t tell what it is.

“Cal?” she asks softly. She waves a hand in front of his face just like Greez did, but nothing happens. His lashes flutter. His mouth twitches. Coming around the edge of the counter shows his hands in his lap, the fingers of his right hand rubbing together rhythmically. “When did he stop responding?”

Greez wrings two of his hands together fretfully. “I don’t know – a minute ago? Seconds? He was quiet, sure, but he wasn’t not responding. If this isn’t an echo, what’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know.” Cere gently takes Cal’s wrist between her fingers, feeling his pulse. A little elevated but nothing alarming. She’s watching his face intently, which means she sees the moment his chin dips and the time between his blinks gets longer. “Cal,” she murmurs quietly. She doesn’t take his hand, worried if she interrupts the…tic, it’ll just cause problems, but she rubs her palm up and down his forearm. “Hey. What’s going on?”

Cal’s mouth stops twitching, curving into a frown. His brows furrow. Cere waits patiently as another moment passes and then he inhales deeply. His gaze starts roaming, flicking slowly from one point to another without focusing on any of it. His fingers still rub together, never losing that rhythm.

It takes another couple of seconds before his focus comes back. Cal glances down where her hand is still on his forearm, then up at her.

“What?” he mumbles. He stops rubbing his fingers together and his hand goes limp in his lap before he curls it into a fist then flexes it slowly. Cal’s face flushes. “Shit.”

“Language.”

Cal proceeds to swear in two more languages, one he knows she doesn’t know. Cere levels him with a stern look, not taking the bait. He pinks even more and pulls his arm away. She lets him go without fuss and crosses her arms loosely. They wait in silence for him to scrub a shaking hand over his face and push it through his hair where he leaves it to rest on the back of his neck, refusing to look at either of them.

“You left something out when we talked about your psychometry,” Cere says.

Cal flinches. “Maybe.” At her pointed look, he sighs. “I get seizures.”

“Seizures!” Greez yelps, scrambling closer. “What do you mean seizures? Like flailing, foam-at-the-mouth seizures?”

“No,” Cal says firmly – then, slowly, “Sometimes?”

Cere tightens her crossed arms, hopes her disapproval is loud enough in the Force to make it through whatever fuzzy air is around Cal right now.

And it must, because his shoulders hunch.

“Once a year at most I get tonic-clonic seizures,” he explains, still not looking at either of them as he picks at a loose thread of his poncho. “It’s not flailing. It’s a loss of control. And I don’t foam at the mouth.” There’s enough bitterness in Cal’s voice Greez looks immediately chastised. “Usually, though, I get absence seizures or atypical absence, like you just saw.”

Cere sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Why didn’t you tell us this before?”

“I had it handled.”

“Cal – .”

“I had it handled,” he snaps. He wraps his arms around himself in the sad mockery of a hug. “I’ve been handling on my own for five years, I can keep doing it.”

“Are they because of your psychometry?”

He hesitates at first. “We think so.” Before she can question the we, he hastens to explain, “I’ve been getting them since I was a youngling, but it was hard to tell the difference between an echo and a seizure, so they couldn’t track it properly. The more control I got over my psychometry the fewer seizures we thought I was having.”

“Thought?” Greez says, sounding aghast. Cere can’t help but agree. “What you do you mean thought? They didn’t know for sure?”

Cal winces. “Psychometry is rare?” he offers. “Master Vos didn’t get seizures like I do, so it’s most likely it’s just me and echoes exasperate it when I’m not careful.”

And he hasn’t been careful ever since they picked up from Bracca and he’s been slowly healing his connection to the Force. I’ve been handling it on my own for five years – she tries to picture a younger Cal, the hair at his temple too short, his poncho too big, his scars still too fresh, having a seizure of any kind while in the harsh, uncaring hands of Bracca. It makes her heart twist.

“How many have you had since Bracca?” Cere asks carefully.

His eyes flick up to meet hers for only a second before he’s looking away again and shrugging. “I don’t know. Beedee does though. He’s been helping me.” He smooths the front of his poncho then slides his fingers on the edge, obviously just looking for something to do with his hands. He looks cornered. “Normally I just zone out for a few seconds and then come back right where I left off. Beedee keeps track and lets me know if anything weird happened.” But BD has been charging after a rough venture on Zeffo where he had to play torchlight for a lot longer than he’s used to, which means he wasn’t here to help Cal keep track – or help distract Cere and Greez from Cal’s momentary lapse of focus. “When it’s atypical, I twitch. Or – ,” he rubs his fingers together as an example. “It’s nothing bad. It barely lasts ten seconds. Fifteen at the most.”

“The one you had was at least thirty,” Cere informs him.

He winces. “That’s an unusually long one? I promise they’re way shorter than that.”

Cere sighs and settles a hand over one of his, stilling the anxious fiddling. “I’m sorry this feels like an interrogation,” she says. “But we’re just concerned about you. Seizures are an important thing to disclose even if you think they’re not a big deal. What if you got one in the field?” Not exactly the angle she wants to focus on, but she knows Cal will understand. And he does because he suddenly pales like it never occurred to him before. It’s been pure luck he hasn’t had one mid-fight. “Was there something the Temple healers used to treat your seizures?”

Cal chews on his bottom lip, silent for a long moment, before he nods. “Yeah,” he admits roughly. “I don’t know what it was called.” His eyes get a little wide, making him look painfully young. “I should know what it was called, right? I’ve had seizures probably my whole life, I should know what medication I was taking all the way to twelve years old.”

Cere covers his other hand then takes them both in hers. He’s shaking minutely, his hands too cold. His pulse is too fast. “It’s okay that you don’t remember,” she says soothingly, pulling on every little iota of calm and peace she can muster. “You had better things to focus on than the name of a habitual medication.” He lets out a shuddery breath, his cheeks gaining their color back until they bypass that to flush pink again in embarrassment. “How about this: why don’t we take a pit stop somewhere, see if we can find out what it was, and get our hands on some. It might help you, and it’ll give me, us,” she nods towards Greez, “some peace of mind.”

It takes a very, very long time for Cal to dip his chin in a short nod. Long enough his hands have warmed under hers and Greez is done with the soup he’d been making, already ladling it into bowls. He nudges a bowl between them, making Cere back away and Cal fumble for it before he ends up with a lapful of hot soup.

“We care, kid,” Greez says, ducking his head slightly to force Cal to meet his gaze to show how serious he is. “That’s the only reason we’re pushing. We care about you.”

A small, shy smile appears, and Cal quickly takes a gulp of soup from the bowl’s edge to hide it – and promptly huffs for cold air against his now scalded mouth. Cere chuckles even as she gets up to grab him something cold to drink. He takes it with a quiet thanks, and she knows he means it for more than just the drink.

“Any time, Cal,” she says, and means the same.

#my writing #cal kestis #cere junda #jedi fallen order #jfo #i'll probably write a tonic-clonic one at some point #you can guarantee seizures and deaf characters/hearing aids/sign languages from me #im unsure if i have any other guarantees #but ive now written both for ff15 and jason todd and now fallen order #which are my biggest fandoms in the last 5 years

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jinlias · 1 year ago

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beso - rosé

– listen to ‘beso’ by rosalía and rauw alejandro!

i just need another kiss, one of those that you give me

roseanne was always in your head, whether it was her face, her voice, her laughter, or her lips, maybe even her touch. she was always. on your mind. today, it was her kisses you thought about. how your favorite moments with her somehow involved her laying on her side while u sat criss-cross in front of her.. always talking useless topics before she gets tired of pretending like she isn’t burning to touch you, feel you, taste you.

you kiss like you’ve always known how, like no one has had to teach you.

it’s always then she takes her cue to tangle her hand in your hair and pull you towards her lips, where yours dance against them. her teeth sinking into your lips every now and then so you would make those noises she loved so much.

most times than others all you did at night after a long and tiring day was just that. kissing with only the breaks to talk about something meaningless or inside jokes the two of you had. usually in the dark, sometimes out on your balcony. rosé had grown used to expressing many thoughts and feelings over them, and you had gotten used to understanding them.

being away from you is hell, being close to you is my peace. I love whenever you arrive, and I hate when you leave.

the hardest part was the wait. the wait to see her, to touch her, all while millions of people were seeing her and taking her in every day.

you were so proud of rosé, consider yourself her no.1 fan, but damn, do you wish she could be amazing and successful just a little closer to home.

you can’t lie and say you barely see her, but even with the many times one of you flies to the other, it’s not enough. time feels as if it’s being lost whenever you’re apart.

it’s a repeating cycle, the anticipation builds as the days lead to your reunion, either rosé picks you up at the airport or it’s you who’s waiting outside an hour prior to her flight landing, and then you have the best next couple of days and both of you will cry when it’s time to say goodbye.

“i hate this” you pout on the bed while she finishes packing her suitcase, taking advantage of her visit to refresh the contents of it.

“i know. i do too baby.”

“i hate when you have to go back.” you welcome her embrace, while she wraps her arms around your shoulders and her tummy welcomes the side of your face, her own cheek meeting the top of your head as she leans in search of proximity.

“i don’t think i have to be there tomorrow” she begins the swaying and the searching for excuses as to stay.

“rosie”

“yeah. lisa’s flying in two days, fuck that!” she giggles and pushes the two of you on the bed, a little too excited to be ghosting her job for two more days.

sometimes it works, as shown, sometimes either of you caves and does the impossible to prolong your stay in the arms of your lover.

it forces you to make the best of your time together, even if you’re laying together doing absolutely nothing other than stare into each other’s soul, you enjoy each other’s company so much you soon came to the conclusion you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

the best thing I've got, is the love you give to me. It smells of tobacco and melon.

unpacking after spending time with rosé or doing laundry in her absence have to be one of the most endearingly painful situations. endearing, because the musk of her cologne and the faint smell her clothes have gathered because of her cigarettes spring on you endless memories of you and her late at night smoking and talking shit about everyone you knew.

painful because it reminds you of how much you miss her. but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you adore rosé so much you look forward to talk to her even if it’s thirty minutes with as much privacy as the corner in her dance room can allow. she loves you to the point of taking spontaneous trips home whenever she has a break longer than two days, she won’t tell anyone, she will just disappear and her members and crew have to trust she gets to the next destination in time, because she won’t answer any sort of text or call unless someone was dying.

you’ll hold on to the clothes she wore on her last day home until the scent fades completely, hating the infinite battle you had with sleep when she wasn’t there with you. but slowly you overcome it, when she starts getting more of a vote over her career she tried to be home as much as she could, and if she couldn’t be then she would do anything to take you with her.

and it’s more kissing at night while stargazing and less yearning to be together after so long apart. it’s more of the sunday nights you spent either having dinner at a fancy restaurant in the city, or overlooking it from a hill with takeout from your favorite place.

i could tie heaven up, and give it to you entirely

#song fic #rose x reader #rosé blurb #rosé imagines #rosé x reader #rosé x yn #blackpink blurb #blackpink imagine #blackpink x fem #blackpink imagines #blackpink x you #blackpink fluff #blackpink x reader #jinlias 1 year party!#jinlias 1st year!#rsj

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readerlovr · 1 year ago

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I’ll take care of you

Pt 1

Warnings: NSFW, Sub!Drew, dom!reader, masturbation (female), handjob, P in V smut, edging, overstimulation, 18+

You pull Drew out of the building and he follows you like a stray puppy. You get in the car after you find out that Drew had a valet drive the car from the helicopter pad where you took off to the landing pad where you landed. The valet wasn’t quite ready to pick you guys up yet given you didn’t use the full estimated time of the picnic because you ate Jack shit. But you didn’t mind because you were teasing Drew all over again trying to gain his stamina back up. And it very much worked. By the time you got in the car his bulge was so big that he couldn’t hide it. Y’all’s place was quite a ways away from where you were, and you just couldn’t wait.

“You look so sexy baby.” You whisper to Drew in his ear after you take your seatbelt off.

“Baby.” He whines. “Come on, I’m driving.”

You don’t care. You start kissing his neck and going up till you reach behind his ear which is his sweet spot. He jerks away from you, trying to get away from the pleasure while he’s driving, but he doesn’t say anything. You grab his head to hold him in place as you start your attack behind his ear again. You can tell he tries to hold back his moans for as long as he can but once you placed your hand right over his package, he moaned loudly and jerked in his seat a bit which caused him to slam on the breaks a little harder than usual. You giggle at his actions as you massage him down there for a couple more seconds before you pull your hand back and sit in your seat. He takes a minute to compose himself mentally before he looks at you and shakes his head.

“You’re going to be the death of me, love.”

You smile to yourself.

“Oh come on. I was just having fun. I like making you feel good.” You say in a sweet voice.

“I know you do baby. But we have to survive this car ride home first.”

You chuckle at his comment.

“Fine, I won’t touch you for the rest of the ride.”

“Thank you.” He responds with a sweet smile.

“I’ll just touch myself.”

His face immediately drops. In an instant you’re pulling up your skirt and pushing down your underwear. Even though he just made you cum no longer than 20 minutes ago, you could go multiple rounds with Drew. But you’re doing this because he loves to watch you. It’s drives him crazy.

“Baby please. We might actually crash.” He says taking quick glances at your exposed flower.

“I trust you won’t let that happen handsome.”

He let out a frustrated whine as he knew he wasn’t winning this one. You took two of your middle fingers and sucked on them. When they were nice and lubricated you slowly traveled them down your body, giving his peripheral view a show. Once you’re at your core you rub your fingers on your clit, and you moan loudly.

“Mmm baby. I can’t wait to make you feel good just like I’m making myself feel good. Hurry up and get us home please.”

“Doing the best I can Y/n.” He says tight lipped.

You keep circling your clit until you feel like you’re wet enough. Once you feel your wetness, you stick your fingers in. You gasp at the feeling. You start going in and out slowly. It’s quiet in the car except for the sounds of other cars outside, so you both heard you making a mess so clearly. And he loved how filthy it sounds. He can’t help but to fully look over at your actions. He parts his lips in awe and he pants through his mouth. He’s so hot. He could make you cum just by looking at him.

“Like what you see baby?”

He dumbly nods as if he has not control over his body. He looks about ready to get on his hands and knees to eat you.

“Eyes on the road baby. Since you were so worried about it before.” As you move your fingers faster so the squelching sound of your core gets quicker. He looks in his rear view and his side mirror, and you know he’s thinking to pull over.

“Don’t pull over.” You say just as he touched the blinker.

“Why?” He whines.

“Because once I’m done having my way with you, you’d be too exhausted to drive baby.”

He clenched his jaw trying to keep his composure once again, but you just go faster. The faster you go the louder you moan.

“Baby girl please, you’re going to make my cum in my pants again.” He says as he palms himself. You love teasing him, however you can’t have him cumming just yet. So against your better judgment you decide to stop teasing him.

“Okay baby. I’ll stop.”

You pull your fingers out and he immediately turns to you with his mouth open. You gladly gave him what he wanted as he sucked off all of you off your fingers. He moans around your fingers.

“Thank you baby.”

You stay in your seat and check him out the entire ride back. As soon as we were in the neighborhood. You attacked him with so many kisses. Neck, face, jaw, ears. He pulled into the driveway and parks. You can feel his energy switch from having to hold back to letting it all loose. He grabs your hair and kisses you back with full force. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and moans in your mouth.

“Can we go inside now?” He asked.

“Of course baby.” You both unbuckle your seatbelt as you basically race to the door. And soon as you get in you immediately slam him into the door and kisses him. He hums into the kiss and grabs both of your thighs. He does this to you telling you to jump so he could carry toy but you deny him this time.

“No baby, it’s time for me to make you feel good. Let’s go upstairs.” You take his hand as he follows you upstairs.

Once you get in the bedroom you close the door. You drag Drew to the bed and push him on top of it. His legs are still dangling off so you straddle his lower stomach as you lean down to kiss him. While kissing you back, he sits up causing you to slide down to be seated on his crotch. He moans at the immediate contact. You move your hips back and forth to make him moan louder which he does.

“Come on Y/n stop teasing.”

“It’s our engagement night baby, I can tease you for as long as I want.”

He took strained exhale as you circle his crotch harder than you did the last time. But ultimately you decide it’s enough teasing for your own sake.

You get off his lap as you help him take off his shirt and pants.

“Lay close to the headboard, baby.”

He listens immediately. You love when Drew’s subby side comes out. He’s so cute that you can’t help but give him what he wants. You give him a show by striping down to your underwear and straddling him. You once again grind yourself down on him. And he jerks his whole body and huffs out a moan as his hands comes to your hips. You take his hands off my hips and place them beside his head and hold them there with your weight as you decided to grind harder and faster.

“Ngh, fuck baby.”

“Feels good, Drew?” You asked just like he asked you in that building. He nods his head unwilling to comprehend words. He looks so hot right now, just taking whatever you give him and he doesn’t even complain. You get off and pull his underwear down and his dick springs out and slaps his stomach. He shuts his eyes in anticipation of what you were going to do. By the time you completely got his underwear off for him he already created a pool of precum on his stomach. You grab his dick from the base and lick his stomach clean. He looks down at you in awe. You come back up facing him, still holding the base of his dock in your hands. He stares up at you with his big blue eyes waiting for you to do something. So you do. You don’t warm him up by going slow, you go straight into jack hammer mode. His precum is creating perfect lube for you as it’s constantly leaking out.

He shouts so loudly from being caught off guard. He squirms his hips and shakes his head.

“Mmm baby please!”

“What’s wrong hun?”

“I can’t!”

“You can what baby?” You respond as you keep your pace exactly the same. He moans three times in a row. Before squirming again.

“It’s too much!”

“Too much? We barely got started Drew.”

He’s trying to be good for you. So much. But you are making it so hard for him. You keep jerking him off at the same pace and when his body starts to shake and convulse because of him trying to hold his orgasm back. You stopped.

“You’re doing so good for me Drew.”

He whimpers with his eyes closed. His hands covers his face as he feels like he needs time to recover. You’ve never seen him this subby before. You slid up the bed to meet him at his face. You pry his hands away from his face.

“You okay baby?”

He nods and tries to cover his face again but you stop him.

“Hey, I need you to use words baby.” You say in the softest voice you could manage.

“I’m okay mama. I was just really close to cumming. It took a lot of energy to stop it.”

“Okay, do you want some water?”

He shook his head.

“No, just give me a minute please.”

“Anything for you baby.”

You leaned down to kiss him which he gladly accepts. He says he didn’t want any water but you remembered you have a bottle in the nightstand so you reach over and open the drawer to get it. You tell him to take a sip of it, then you put it back. You kiss him all over his face until he’s ready again.

“Okay I’m ready.” He says after a couple of minutes. You kiss him deeply as you mix your tongues together and moan into eachothers mouths. You pull away to take your underwear off your body.

“You ready for me baby?”

He whimpers and nods before you give him a slight smack to the cheek to remind him to use his words.

“Yes beautiful. I’m ready for you. I always am.”

Without anymore words, you slide right down his dick to the brim. He throws his head back and jerks his hands to almost touch your hips, but caught himself before he could do it.

“Can I touch you baby, please?”

“Not yet baby, be patient.” You say as you push his hands back down to the sides of his face. He moves his hands to grip the headboard so he wouldn’t be tempted. He lets out breathy moans as you fuck him into yesterday. He looks so good that you start feeling too good for your own body. You won’t be able to last long with him being so good all night.

He threw his head back again and moaned louder as you changed the pace.

“That feels good Drew?”

He nods deliriously. “Mhm.” Is the only thing he could salvage. You start riding him faster trying to make him feel good as possible. You leaned down and suckled behind his ear knowing that would drive him crazy. He literally shouted.

“Baby, can I- can I cum?”

“Mm I don’t know Drew. You edged me earlier because you said I was being a tease just because i wanted my crazy attractive, amazing boyfriend to feel good. I think that’s a little mean, don’t you think?” You asked a bit out of breath from your excursions.

“Mmm.” Is all he got out. You know because he used up all of his energy to hold his orgasm back before he doesn’t have the energy to hold it for too long if you keep fucking him. You wait too hear one more loud shout before you pull him out. He lets out a relieved but a breath control exhale.

“Just breathe baby. I got you. It’s okay.” You say before you slid down on his dick again but harder this time.

Drew’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he shakes his head no. He lets in a long inhale, but he lets it out in staggers.

“Breathe baby, it’s okay, you got it.”

He shakes his head again.

“Baby I’m going to cum!” He says in a higher pitched voice than normal.

“It’s okay baby you could cum.”

That’s all he needed for him to let go completely. He lets out a strangled moan as his release sucker punches him in the gut.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” The last fuck was drawn out.

You keep fucking him through his orgasm. When he comes down he moves his hands from the headboards trying to stop you, you take his hands again and hold it down with your weight. He can obviously take control if he really wanted to given he was stronger than you but he loved letting you take control.

“Baby it’s too much! I’m too sensitive!”

You poked your lips out at him giving him a mock sad face.

“I know baby. But do you think you could handle it until I cum?”

He rolls his eyes closed and nods.

“Anything for you my love.”

You lean down to kiss him softly. You love this man with all your heart. You pick up the pace a little and he furrows his brows from his sensitivity.

“It’s okay baby, I’m almost there okay.”

He nods. You take your middle fingers and stick them into Drew’s moist and he sucks on them immediately. He knew exactly what you wanted, and he knows you find it so hot when he does that. You take your fingers out his mouth with a pop as you move your fingers to rub your clit. You take your other hand and guide his hand to your body, silently telling him he could touch you now.

From to the way Drew looks to the way he is acting, it’s turning you on so bad, you’re right on the brink of an orgasm. He’s gripping you everywhere, trying to make up for lost time where he couldn’t touch you.

Right when your core starts clenching when you’re close, Drew body starts jerking again. His head thrashed from side to side.

“What’s happening to me?” He whimpers and squeezes your hips so tight you might be bruised in the morning.

You keep going knowing that another orgasm blindsided Drew and he didn’t know he could have orgasms back to back like that. You keep going and you too go over the edge when you hear the most beautiful guttural sound from your fiancé.

“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.” He chants along with some other things you can’t quite make out. You moan in his ear as you finish your orgasm as well.

You lie on his chest as you both come down. When you come down you notice Drew still have aftershocks of his orgasm. You pull him out of you as he hisses. You could still see small spurts of cum leaving his dick. You look at his whole body in awe right now. Totally fucked out, flushed skin all over, and as you suspected he has no energy at all. He is dozing off by the time you go get cleaned up. You take a washcloth and start to wipe him down. He jerks hard and tries to push your hand away.

“Please, no more.”

“I know baby. It’s over I got to clean you up. I’m sorry.” You kiss his hip in consolation. But that didn’t stop his squirming as you cleaned him.

“Okay all done.”

He holds out his arms for you to cuddle him which you gladly do after throwing the washcloth in the hamper. He lays his head on your chest.

“Goodnight my beautiful fiancé.”

Even after fucking him delirious he still knows what to say.

#drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #x black fem reader #sub!drew #sub!Drew starkey #dom!reader

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ladykailitha · 1 year ago

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Royal Pain Part 20

Hello, darlings! I hope that cliffhanger didn't leave you hanging for too long.

As promised two villains get vanquished and Wayne is bestest. As always.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

***

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Eddie cursed over and over again. He just needed to take a quick piss. He was supposed to just be in and out, but nope.

Motherfucking Seth Davies cornered him in the stall.

“There you are, pretty boy,” Seth purred. “I’ve been looking for you everywhere.” He stroked Eddie’s cheek, but when Eddie flinched away, Seth grabbed his face roughly. “I told you, you are mine. No one else’s.”

Eddie pushed him, but he barely even budged. “Get out of here. You aren’t supposed to be here.”

Seth chuckled darkly. “You see that’s where you’re wrong, princess,” he sneered, pressing their bodies together. “You see this club is exactly five hundred feet from Nightmare Holes. I’ve been coming here for longer than that usurper has.”

Eddie felt a cold sense of dread shudder down his spine. Shit.

“Imagine my surprise when you showed up with the usurper and the little bird with all your little bandmates,” Seth continued. “I knew it was a sign that you were meant to be mine again.”

Eddie tried to push him again. “I’m not anyone’s. I’m not even seeing anyone right now.”

As much as it hurt to say that, it was true. Steve and he hadn’t even gone out on a date yet. Mostly they had hung out, usually with other people there or they were at his tattoo parlor working on the tattoo.

“And it’s going to stay that way, won’t it, peach?” Seth growled.

“Eddie?” Steve called out.

Eddie went to call out, but Seth put his hand over his mouth to silence him.

“Eddie?” Steve called again.

Eddie bit down on Seth’s hand causing him to scream, but he didn’t budge from Eddie’s mouth.

Steve’s eyes narrowed at the stall the cry had come from.

“Hey, just me and the boyfriend having a little fun,” Seth called out. “So if you could give us a minute.”

The door opened and closed and Eddie closed his eyes, tears falling. He couldn’t believe Steve had fallen for that.

Suddenly the door to stall banged down to the ground without its hinges and then was slammed aside. Seth was being pulled off of him and thrown into the basin of the sink.

“What the fuck?” Seth growled, abruptly face to face to the avenging fury of Steve Harrington.

“I told you at Hop’s,” Steve growled, “that you picked the wrong man to target.”

Seth scoffed. “I didn’t think some skinny ass prep could take me.”

Steve shook his head. “I meant Eddie. I would anything to protect him and you are so going to regret this.”

Seth took a swing at Steve, who side stepped it easily. Eddie got out of the stall and came to stand next to Steve.

“I don’t work out as much as I used to,” Steve said, with a raised eyebrow, “now that I’ve been running a tattoo shop full time, but I do enough to keep in shape.”

Steve loosened his shoulders and took a proper swing at Seth. He aimed straight for the guy’s nose. He smirked when he heard the crack.

“The fuck?” Seth screamed. “I think you broke my nose, you fucker!”

“I’m only going to tell you one more time,” Steve warned. “Either get the fuck out or get your ass kicked. Your choice.”

Seth spat out blood from his mouth. “If I can’t have him, no one can.” He pulled out a knife and lunged at Eddie.

Steve grabbed Seth’s extended wrist and twisted it hard. The knife dropped to the ground and Seth tripped over his own feet. He clutched his wrist, screaming as Steve kicked the knife behind him out of reach.

Seth got back to his feet, blood staining the white suit.

“Let it go, man,” Eddie pleaded. “Just walk away and move on with your life.”

“You think he’s going to be any better?” Seth sneered. “It’s all you’re good for slut. To spread your legs for the first pretty boy to bat his eyelashes at you. You deserve to be beaten into submission, because submission is all you’re good for.”

CRACK!

Suddenly Seth was on the floor cradling his jaw.

Steve looked over at Eddie appreciatively. “Wow, baby. That was a good hit.”

Eddie shook his hand. “Fuck, that’s going to sting like a bitch later.”

Seth stared up at Eddie as if he was seeing him for the first time.

Steve gently took his hand. “Let’s go to the bar and get them to call the police and get ice for both our hands.”

Eddie smiled up at Steve. “Sounds like a plan, sweetheart.”

Seth just continued to stare as if his whole world had been yanked out from under him.

“Actually,” Gareth said from the doorway. “I’ve been on with the police this whole time and I filmed it.”

Eddie and Steve turned slowly to see Gareth standing there, his phone in his hands and cheeky grin on his face.

Seth scrambled to stand up, but it was too late. There was knocking on the door with a gruff voice saying it was the police and to open up.

All three of them gave their statements while Seth tried to lie through his teeth that Eddie had sought him out and cornered him in the bathroom. Gareth just calmly showed the officer the video and one glare from the officer shut Seth up for good.

Gareth then pointed to the knife in the corner of the room. “And you can keep the cell phone, boys. I’m due for an upgrade anyway.”

It took barely a half hour and then they were back out with their friends with a story to tell. And ice for both Steve and Eddie’s hands, of course.

Wayne stayed another week to make sure that the DA didn’t do something stupid again. Thankfully, an election had happened since then and a new DA was in there. One that wasn’t so soft on domestic abuse, assault, and attempted murder then the last one was.

And with the video there was no doubt Seth was guilty of all of the above. Plus the judge ruled that the earlier case could be used in court as a pattern of behavior. When Seth’s lawyer got the word about that and that the video wouldn’t be thrown out, he caved.

Seth was forced to plead guilty to all charges and would go away for ten years without the possibility of parole. When faced with the alternative of going to jail for at least twenty years on the attempted murder charge alone, he took the deal.

This is time Eddie was informed of the deal and agreed as long as the cops actually enforced the protection order this time.

As Wayne was getting ready to go back to Hawkins, he stopped by Royal Pain to say goodbye to Steve.

“Steve! Your future uncle-in-law is here!!!” Robin called out.

Steve came running out of the back where he was watching Argyle and Chrissy tattoo the same picture to see who could copy the style the easiest.

“Robin!” he hissed at her as came up to Wayne. “Sorry about her. She’s been calling for wedding bells since day one.”

Wayne chuckled. “That’s alright. But have you got a few minutes. I’d like to take you out to lunch.”

Steve turned to Robin. “When is my next appointment?”

She pulled up the schedule on the computer. “You have a little over an hour.”

He turned back to Wayne. “Is there some place you had in mind or are you up for suggestions?”

Wayne grinned. “Whacha got?”

Steve laughed. “Oh so many...”

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of my boy,” Wayne said once they had ordered at a good sandwich place and were waiting for their food.

Steve blushed. “I’m just grateful I got to him before Seth did any real damage.”

Wayne scoffed. “I think he did plenty.”

Steve nodded, grabbing a hold of this water glass and rubbing the condensation off with his thumb. “Without a doubt, but he threatened to kill Eddie and who knows what his full plan was.” He fought off the shiver that went down his spine at the thought. “I think Eddie will recover from this, not so much if Seth had actually done something.”

Wayne nodded. “I get what you’re saying now. You’re right. So count me as even more grateful than before.”

He rubbed the scruff on hsi chin thoughtfully. “Why didn’t you try and break down the stall door?”

Steve’s head jerked up in surprised. “The hinges were on the outside because it opened toward the sinks instead of inward. Trying to bust it down would have only made things worse.”

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “So you just what? Removed the screws?”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “Something like that, yeah.”

“I know you two are going slow,” he said, “and I appreciate you letting him go his own speed, but boy, you’ve got to kiss him!”

Steve sputtered. “What now?”

“Look,” Wayne said, leaning forward on the table, “I love my nephew with all my heart, but that boy has a tendency to get lost in his head. And don’t think I didn’t notice you wearing that necklace.”

Steve rubbed the pick around his neck fondly. “I know what it means, him giving this to me. He told me. Not right away, but I know that he gave it to me because he feels the same way about me that I do about him.”

“You in love with Eddie, son?” Wayne asked gently.

Steve pursed his lips and nodded. “Yeah. I really do. But I’m okay going this speed because he’s not the only with hang ups. I had a really bad relationship a few years back that is still effecting everything I do when it comes to relationships. I had a bad tattooing experience where someone tried to sue me and that left me in pieces, too.”

Wayne nodded back. “All right, I can’t say I understand, but you seem to have a good head on your shoulders and I’ve said my piece.” He held up his hands in surrender.

They chatted amicably about their favorite sports teams and Eddie as they ate their lunch.

Wayne paid and they walked out on to the pavement. Wayne called Eddie to pick him up and they continued to chat while they waited.

“Oh come...” Steve said, “you can’t believe they have the team to win it this yea–”

He was spun around and was face to face with the last person on earth he ever expected to see. And really at this point after his dad in his shop, Nancy at the grocery store, and Seth at Hop’s, he really, really should learn by now that the world loves to torment him.

“You absolute fucker!” the man snarled. “How dare you just walk around town like you didn’t ruin my life!”

Wayne immediately got between them. “There is no reason to go around harassing people on the street regardless of what they’ve done.”

The man looked Wayne up and down and scoffed, ignoring him. “I can’t get it covered! I can’t even get it removed because it covers too much of my back! You did this to me, you asshole!”

The man raised his fist to hit Steve, but someone tapped his shoulder. He turned around only to be punched in the nose.

“The fuck!” he screamed.

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Hey-ya, Eds!” he greeted warmly.

Wayne huffed out a laugh. “You always did have perfect timing, boy.”

“Everyone meet Quinn Colburn,” Steve said dryly. “the asshole who kept trying to sue me over a tattoo I did for him. The one the courts kept denying over and over again.”

Eddie grinned. “Ooh...can I hit him again, then?”

Wayne and Steve laughed as Quinn stood there holding his nose.

Quinn spotted Eddie’s tattoos. “I hope you don’t go to this asshole for your tattoos, he’ll fuck up your life.”

Eddie laughed. “Too late, man. I love them!” He pulled off his shirt right there on the street. He tapped his chest. “This was the first one he did for me and I fell in love with his style.”

Quinn’s eyes bulged out his head. “But that’s a small one! He does shit at large tattoos. I even heard that he won’t do them anymore. I wish he had decided to do that before he fucked up mine!”

Eddie turned around slowly. The sword was done, complete with the words scratched out, and most of the right wing was done. “He’s not done yet, but god, I wouldn’t let anyone else touch me after this. He’s my only tattoo artist from now on.”

But that one served to make Quinn angrier. “So what? You can do your friends’ tattoos just fine, but when it comes to strangers, you can’t be assed to do it right?”

“Show them,” Steve bit out. “Go ahead. You think it’s shit, but I never did. Go ahead, show them!”

Quinn turned around and showed Eddie and Wayne his tattoo.

“Wow, babe,” Eddie marveled. “It’s a bit anime, but holy shit that’s wicked cool.”

“You drew that, Stevie?” Wayne asked.

Steve nodded.

“You are very talented man,” Wayne said, with a smile.

Quinn whirled around to face them. “You’re all morons if you think that was good.”

Eddie and Wayne looked at each and shrugged.

“You had your chance to stop him at anytime and didn’t,” Eddie pointed out. “That’s no one’s fault but yours. You can either continue to be bitter or you can move on with your life knowing you have a kick ass tattoo from a kick ass artist. Up to you, man.”

Quinn threw his arms up in the air and stalked off.

Steve turned to Eddie with absolute heart-eyes. “I know it’s not even the same realm as what happened last week, but that’s the second time you’ve come to my rescue. Thank you.”

Eddie blushed. “I couldn’t stand there and let that man continue to harass you.”

“God I love you,” Steve breathed. His eyes went wide when he realized what he’d said.

Eddie grinned. “Right back atcha, big boy.”

Steve blushed a deep red. Eddie grabbed his cheeks and pulled him in for a searing kiss.

He wasn’t sure how long they kissed, but Wayne had to clear his throat a few times to get their attention.

“As happy as I am for you both,” he said with a fond, lop-sided smile, “it is summer out here, and I would really, really like to get out of the heat before I become Kentucky Fried Wayne, please.”

Steve laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow at the shop?” he whispered into Eddie’s space.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, baby. I’ll be there.”

Steve watched as Eddie and Wayne walked to Eddie’s van, a goofy grin on his face.

***

Steve mimed for Gareth to go for help when he opened and closed the door to the bathroom and didn't realize that Gareth had called the police and started filming.

Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @oldwitcheshat @nightmareglitter @tinyplanet95 @novelnovella

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #tattoo artist steve

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burning-omen · 1 year ago

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Kinktober day 7: Cowboy au + Obi-Wan Kenobi

Obi-Wan Kenobi x male!reader

Kinktober 2023 List | Day 1 | Day 8

(a/n: I KNOW ITS LATE EVERYBODY SHIT THE FUCK UP)

Summary: You’re a bounty hunter, just trying to make it through the world, with the most annoying bounty alive

Warning: sex, outdoors sex, obi-wan is hogtied but not in a sexy way, reader is deep in the closet, formatting errors to be fixed LATER

Camping out with your bounty wasn’t something you did frequently, you’ve only had to a couple of times, and through all those times they’ve been knocked out cold through the night and into the next morning. Not Kenobi though, despite being clocked in the head with the butt of your gun and being choked until what you thought was unconsciousness, only for him to spring back up the moment you let him go, he seemingly never went down.

“Did they tell you want the bounty was for?”

“No..”

“How high was it, I bet that would give you a cl-“

“You know, bounties don’t usually talk this much.”

“I’m not the typical bounty.”

“Clearly..”

The moon was set high in a star filled sky, the make shift camp you’d made for the two of you was small, but manageable. You were far closer to Mr. Kenobi than you would have liked to he, but you can’t fight physics or the limitations of the space you were in, and you didn’t want to pack up and move, so you stayed put, laying flat on your back just mere inches away from the man who you were taking to his death, you’d be much more worried if it weren’t for the fact he was hogtied right now.

A short moment of silence passed as Kenobi rested his head on the dirt. It didn’t last long.

“You have a peculiar accent, where are you from?”

“Oh my accent is peculiar? Mister, you sound like you just got off the damn Mayflower.”

“Ah, a guest your right.”

Another silence passed, this one longer, you might have even found yourself falling asleep if it weren't for Kenobi’s non-stop movement. Even though he wasn't touching you, you could still feel him moving.

“Will you stop?” you said sternly.

“Well I'm sorry, but you've left me in an extremely uncomfortable position.”

“You'll live.”

He groaned and continued his fidgeting.

You let it continue for another minute before sitting up and grabbing your knife from your bag, climbing over the man, pressing his shoulder hard into the ground, and cutting the rope. You were so caught up in the familiar motion that you hardly noticed him tensing up, or the sigh of relief he let out when you set him free.

“There,” you laid back in your spot, “will you please go to sleep now.”

After removing the tangles of rope from his wrist and ankles he asked, “You’re not worried about me running away?”

“You’re bounty isn’t high enough for me to care..”

“And yet you still came after me.”

You sighed, “I was just curious..”

“Curious?”

“‘Found your bounty up in Karma, thought it was weird ‘cause you can get away with practically anything there, just wanted to know what you did to get your face plastered on every building in town. But apparently you don’t know.”

“Karma…? Ah, yes. I didn’t do anything wrong, really. Not to me at least.”

“Most criminals think there in the right.”

You rolled over to face him.

“But what did you do?”

He stared up at the stars for a long moment, his face void of emotion.

“I had-“ he cleared him throat, “certain relations with their mayor. He didn’t seem very happy with that information being made public, I though he’d get over it with time but apparent not.”

You sat straight up, staring dead at him, your mouth hanging open and eyebrows raised high.

He glanced at you, letting out a short laugh.

“Don’t look so shocked..”

You took a moment to try and collect yourself before saying, “that’s…oh. I’m…sorry..?”

He laughed again, “don’t be, you’re just doing your job.”

“I’m not..”

He looked up at you, confused.

“I’m not..doing my job, I’m not taking you to Karma, you’re free to go.”

He breathed out softly.

“…thank you.”

You laid back down, facing away from him.

“Don’t mention it.”

Time passed, you never turned back to face him, you figured he had fallen asleep while you were unable to. The universe was really unfamiliar sometimes, now being one of them.

You could feel his shifting and moving behind you, you figured he was just a tricky sleeper, but you were proven wrong a second later.

“Having trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that, just..thinking.”

“About?”

You scoffed, “like I'd tell you..”

“Well seeing as your not taking me back to Karma-”

“-you didn't do anything wrong, I wouldn't-”

“-and you have yet to kick me out of your camp-”

“-it’s late-”

“I think it's only right that we get to know each other.”

You turned onto your back, glaring at the man, who sat up, looking down at you.

“Come on, I don't even know your name..” he said softly.

You held his gaze for as long as you could before looking away.

“My name is y/n..”

“Y/n l/n?”

You sat straight up, glaring at the man, only to see him holding your hat, which you sat with the rest of your supplies. There was a tag sewn on the inside that had your full name on it.

“If you were just gonna go through my things, why would bother asking?”

“Just wanted to see what you’d say.”

You groaned, snatching your hat out of his hand and setting it down next to you.

“So, Mr. L/n..” he paused for a moment “are you queer?”

You sucked in deep a breath, trying not to react too much, your body became rigid and tense for a moment.

“What kind of question is that?”

“A reasonable one.”

“Reasonable for who?”

He laughed, “you of course. Most men would have been ready to serve me to Karma of they'd heard what I'd done.”

“You did nothing wrong-”

“I’m aware. Most people don’t think that, most people would have shot me, not let stay at their camp, and definitely would not have let me sleep this close.”

You glanced at the man quickly before looking away, seeing him staring dead at you.

“So what are you trying to say, you think I got some little crush on you?”

He laughed, “Maybe..”

Suddenly, he was in front of you, leaning far closer to you face than was appropriate.

“Maybe you’re just lonely and need someone likeminded to talk to, even if it is only for one night.”

You tired to shrug him off, let his words go in one ear and out the other, but he was right- and he made it so hard not to admit that to him.

“You’re insane..”

“Possibly.”

His hands came up on either side of your face, holding you just a few inches from his, but he did nothing beyond that. He wanted you to do it.

The reasonable side of your mind was loud, telling you to push him away, that you weren’t lonely, that you didn’t need him, but a much louder part of you mind screamed it years of absence at you. You decided to listen, pressing forward, kissing Kenobi hard, like you were drowning and you could breath the air in his lungs if you tried hard enough. Kenobi responded in kind, seated in your lap as you drew him in closer and closer.

The kiss was long and desperate. You could hardly think straight with his entire body pressed against yours. The fire, so vibrant in the black night, illuminating him, as well as cast a dark shadow where ever in couldn’t reach.

You pulled back in a panting disarray, your heart pounding in your chest. It was hard to think with him thins close, so you didn’t, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into another kiss.

You didn’t know where to go from there, you’ve never gone beyond kissing with a man, this would be a hell of a lot easier if he was a woman, at least you’d know what was expected of you, where to put your hands and the like.

But you didn’t want him to be a woman. No, you liked him like this. Hard and heavy in your lap. He seemed to know exactly what to do, resting his hand over the growing bulge in your pants, leaning down to kiss you again, not making a single move until you kissed him back.

Grinding down in your lap, moaning against each others lips as you found a steady pace together. Still fully clothed, rocking against each other as your pants grew tighter and tighter.

He pulled back, pressing kisses all down your neck, unbuttoning your shirt, running his hand across your chest with a satisfied hum.

He was definitely more experienced than you, drawing reactions from you easily with his hands and mouth. You let him work. Kissing and bitting any uncovered skin he could find.

His hand making light work of your belt and pants, pulling them just below your waist. You didn’t complain, despite the loss of contact, as you watched him scoot back on your thighs and unbuckle his own belt, pulling his cock out of his unbuttoned pants, then scooting back up your thigh.

For a moment, your mind yelled at you, this was a stranger- you didn’t know this man, he could do anything to you, you can’t just let him control you-

All thoughts seemed to vanish suddenly as you felt something against your cock. It was impossible not to look at Kenobi, with him stationed barely a few inches from your face. Looking down you could see your cocks pressed tightly together, he wrapped his hand around the two, giving an experimental squeeze, making the two of you buck into his hand simultaneously.

“Okay..” he breathed out, “Are you ready?”

Unsure of your voice, you nodded.

He gave you one last looking before shifting his focus, starting slowly, stroking from the base of your cocks all the way up to the tip, then back down again.

You let out a slow, shaky breath, your eyes fixated on his hand, his other was rubbing large circles from your hip to your thigh. You figured you needed to do something with yours instead of just leaving them at your sides. Shifting your weight around before you settled on placing your hand on Kenobi’s waist, slipping it just under his shirt. It was…something at the very least. Makes you feel less vulnerable.

You watched him smirk, then speed up, both your panting increasing tenfold at the sudden change of pace. Your cocks sliding against each other as the two of you struggled to remain still.

“Kenobi..” you groaned.

“You’re being impatient.”

“You’re being-“You held your tongue, your words devolving into a groan, not wanting to actually insult the man considering what he was doing for you right now.

Breathing in sharply and letting it out slowly, you watched the man work intently.

You tried to sit perfectly still for him, the only move you made being your hand tightening on his waist, or the involuntary sputter of your hips whenever he stroked you just right.

Some small part of your mind wanted more, wanted to pin him to the dirt below and fuck him until you’d both had your fill, but you didn't, that took work, and experience you didn't have. So you took whatever he gave you, you didn't mind, his hands were skilled, seemingly hitting every nerve with ease, making pleasure shoot through your body.

Your ability to be still and quiet seemed to waver as the tight pit in your stomach started to come apart in his hands.

“Almost there..?” He asked quietly.

You panted, looking up at the man, “You don’t know that-“

“I can tell, you’re shaking-“

“I’m- mhh, I’m not-“

“Yes, you are” despite his words and his light teasing, he was right there with you, chest rising and falling rapidly. Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, he sped up, his pace was unprecedented and it made your whole body tense, a constant stream of joint moans filled the small area.

Your hips bucked up into his hand, he did the same, not slowing down even when your rabidly approaching orgasm hit you, even as cum splattered all over his hand and cock, he kept going. Moaning and whining under his breath until he finally he came, moaning loudly as his own cum mixed with yours, further covering both your cocks, and his hand.

The realization hit you a minute later, after you were able to calm down and you didn't feel like you were burning inside your own skin anymore.

You were just intimate- very intimate with a man, and you didn't… die? You didn't know what you thought would happen. You didn't know what you were so afraid of.

Kenobi didn't seem to be going anywhere, still in your lap, his arms wrapped around you and his head resting on your shoulder.

You figured that you could spiral, mostly about your years of absence coming to an end, later. Enjoying the company of Kenobi for now.

———————The next morning——————-

“Kenobi, do you think-”

“Why do you keep being so formal with me? You can call me by my first name, I hope you know that..”

“What? I thought Kenobi was your first name?”

“No, it's my last name.”

“Seriously, it's the only name your poster said so I figured-?”

“No, no, my first name is Obi-wan.”

“Oh well now I see why they left it off your posters- ow! Throwing things is very immature!”

“You’ll live.”

#x male reader #male reader #male!reader #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #male s/o #x male!reader #obi wan kenobi #obi-wan kenobi x male!reader #obi-wan x male reader

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back2bluesidex · 1 year ago

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Taste of a Poison - KSJ (18+)

Pairing: Boyfriend!Seokjin X Fem!Reader (ft. Ex-boyfriend Jimin)

Theme: Angst, Drama,

Summary: Relationship with Seokjin is as toxic as it is addictive.

Word count: 2.2K

Warnings: Unhealthy relationship, mentions of cheating, attempts of cheating, Jin is toxic, reader ain't anything better, argument, petty behavior, reader is stubborn, Jimin is an angel.

MINORS ARE NOT ALLOWED IN THIS BLOG!!

A/N: This story is based on this request by @chimmisbae. It was getting longer and I don't usually write more than 2k for a story, so I made it a two shot. The next part will contain BDSM themed smut and I have not tasted that water yet, so, all the best to me. Till then.. enjoy this.

You stare at your open palms blankly. Your hands are as dry as your life lately.

Not knowing what exactly you are trying to find there, you close your eyelids focusing on the stinging session that only tears can bring.

You are in desperate need of soaking your tears away.

“You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You don’t need to waste any more tears on Seokjin. You have had enough.” These are the words that you chant within yourself.

Your eyes open on their own and divert themselves at the sky as if to look for an answer. An answer to justify why you are stuck in this miserable state.

“Don’t I deserve to be happy?” you ask yourself and something within you replies saying, “Yes, you do. But first you will have to leave him.”

You turn around to take a look at the exit of the bar.

There is a guy trying to carry the weight of his drunk friend, a couple of girls who probably got kicked out for not having valid age proof, and a lonesome man trying to call someone. But there is no sign of him… your boyfriend Seokjin.

It’s been more than fifteen minutes since you left your seat and walked out but he hasn’t even noticed your absence. That’s what you are worth to him, that is what you mean, which translates to nothing but an unimportant presence.

How much time has it been again? 1 year and eight months? Yes.

It's been almost two years and you still don’t understand Seokjin, neither does he have a Ph.D degree in understanding you. And as a result, you have seen more downs than ups within your relationship span.

Things always go wrong one way or another. Mostly because -

1. Seokjin is way too busy for you. Owning and running one of the most successful law firms of South Korea certainly makes you a busybody. However, that does not mean you can’t spare an hour for the person you apparently love.

2. Seokjin is dangerously possessive. A man within 20 meters of radius of you and he will be losing his shit. If he could, he would lock you up in a showcase only for him to see.

3. You don’t trust him enough. You are well aware of the womanizer reputation he had before starting to date you. And no matter how many times has he claimed that he has changed, you just can’t bring yourself to trust him.

4. You are way too stubborn for your own good. You only do what you feel like doing. You listen to none, you don’t consider suggestions and most of the time you don’t accept what Seokjin has to propose, which ticks him off very badly. If he tells you to go right, you will go left. Hence, your relationship is a mess.

All in all, you and Seokjin are not meant for each other.

Tonight is just another confirmation of the above statement.

He has been ditching you for work for the past few weeks. You said nothing knowing that everything will end up you two having another unending fight and then you will somehow get pinned to his mattress while he fucks you senseless.

You did not want to repeat this vicious cycle, so you settled for giving him a cold shoulder instead. This new tactic of yours had an impressive impact on your boyfriend as he promised you a date in exchange for your normal behavior.

You almost accepted your victory. But it seems like you are not as lucky as you thought because as soon as you two got seated in a booth, he miraculously found two of his clients and offered them to join you two.

And those clients being more important than you, your so-called boyfriend didn’t even pay you mind when you left the booth and walked out of the bar.

This is unacceptable, especially because this occurrence is nothing new. You have been facing the same and similar shit again and again. But tonight, you are going to take a step. You are going to take a step away from Seokjin and this toxic hell of a relationship.

So you do the next best thing. Pulling your phone out from your purse, you call that one person you know will go again every odd to be with you. You dial Jimin’s number and he receives it readily after the third ring.

“Hey, what’s up?” Jimin’s voice bounces through the other side of your phone. He is always so cheerful to you that it hurts.

“Jimin… can you pick me up please? I am standing at the exit of Blue Night” Your voice comes out firmer than you expected, “I mean only if you are not busy.”

“Will be there in ten.” he cuts the call.

You punch the keycode for entering your apartment as soon as possible. If Jimin notices that the code is still a combination of your and his birth dates then he doesn’t say anything. He has not said a word during your entire way back home, maybe he had understood that you are in no mood of being pursued for a conversation.

“Um.. I’ll leave. Good night Y/N” Jimin says as you enter your apartment holding the door open.

“No- I mean..” You pause, deciding on whether you should ask him to stay or not, “Can you.. uh.. Would you like to stay the night? If you don’t have anything to do- anyone waiting on you?” you place the last part of the sentence very cautiously.

“I would love to stay, Y/N. but-” he closes his eyes, “what about Jin?”

“I don’t care. Not anymore.” Your voice trembles.

You break down in a loud sob as soon as Jimin shuts the door behind him. He wastes no time and wraps you into his warm embrace. You feel as if you just hit home.

“You know… he doesn’t deserve you.” Jimin mumbles, his lips brushing on your temple.

“Just like I never deserved you. You were way too good for me. You still are. And look at me, I broke your heart only for you to hold me down when my so-called boyfriend ditches me for his precious clients.” You hide your face in his chest. Saying that you feel guilty of breaking Jimin’s heart upon realizing that best-friend-to-lover trope doesn’t work for you, will be an understatement. But you had no other choice, or that is what you tell yourself, since you could not see him expecting things from you and getting disappointed again and again. You are not a giver after all.

“Just so you know Y/N, I never stopped loving you.” Jimin whispers in your ear, stroking your head gently.

“I know. And that’s so stupid of you.” You reply, staring up into his eyes.

His soft blonde hair makes him look like the angel he is and you feel like your rationalities are drowning in those beautiful brown eyes. You somehow start to reach up as he leans down.

Just when two pairs of lips are about to touch, you hear the keyword being punched in your apartment entrance and the door opening with a beep. And the only person to know your house code except for you and Jimin is none other than Kim Seokjin.

Jimin stops stroking your head as he sits up somewhat straight and stares at the door. However, you keep your face buried in his chest. A part of your brain is telling you to push yourself off of Jimin but another wicked and darker part of the brain tells you to stay put, rile seokjin up and push each of his buttons. You listen to the darker part.

“Woah! I definitely did not expect to discover such a sight.” Seokjin regards the sight in front of him as the words fall from his mouth humorlessly.

You detach your body from Jimin’s and sit straight, ready to fight him back, “You should not expect anything else after leaving me to die during one of our meaningless dates.”

“Oh? Leave you to die? Have you even checked your phone or are you too busy to fuck around with your ex-boyfriend?” He grits, anger taking over his otherwise indifferent expression faster than light.

“Only if you treated her better would you have a reason to complain.” Jimin interjects, now standing straight as if to protect you from Seokjin.

“I am not talking to you, Park. Stay out of this. No wait- get out of the house or otherwise I will have to throw you out.” Seokjin growls.

Jimin balls his fists ready to fight seokjin but that’s the last thing you want now. You know Jin. You know if he says he will throw Jimin out then he will actually throw him out, thanks to his immaculate military achievement during his enlistment span. You have already broken Jimin’s heart. Now you don’t want to be the reason for his broken ribs as well. So, you intervene.

“Jimin. I am sorry but can you please-”

“You are doing this again Y/n” Jimin is visibly upset. His eyes reflect his heart, which is filled with pain and again you are the reason.

“This is the last time Jimin. I promise.” you manage to say. Jimin nearly stomps off and shuts the door loudly enough to signify his bitter mood.

You sigh and then diver your eyes to your soon-to-be ex-boyfriend,

“What do you want?” you seethe through your teeth.

“What was he doing here, Y/N?” Jin takes a step towards you but you stay where you are.

“Someone had to bring me home since you got busy with your clients.”

“He only brought you home?”

“Why? Do you think I am like you? Fucking behind your back?”

Jin scoffs. He is now dangerously close to your body. His tall and broad form easily swallows your smaller one.

“You think I am fucking behind your back? After all these times?” Jin’s voice has reached a few octaves lower than usual but his tone is calmer than what it was seconds ago.

“Your reputation doesn’t suggest otherwise. Especially when you don’t even spare a single evening for me.” Your voice is firm, steady and serious. You are not afraid of confronting him, especially when it’s the last time.

“We have talked about this, Y/n” Jin’s voice is still calm, which contrasts the raging fire that you perceive inside his eyes.

“Yes. we have but nothing changed. So-” you pause, gulping once to provide a touch of moisture to your dry throat, “I don’t think I can do this anymore. Let’s end this right now, right here.”

“What?” Jin’s tough exterior finally breaks. His face falls, eyes widens, jaw loosens.

“You heard me.” you reply nonchalantly, causing him to break into a round of a dry chuckle.

“You really think you can live without me? After all these times?” Jin closes the remaining distance and this time, you take a step backward. You will be lying if you say the thought doesn’t make you weak. But you know he is trying to manipulate you into thinking you are nothing without him, which is most definitely not the truth.

“I will be doing fine. As fine as I was doing before you walked into my life, Jin.” you reply firmly and you believe your words wholeheartedly.

“I see? Does that mean… you will go back to that guy, won't you?”

“That’s my private matter. What I do after breaking up with you should not be your concern. And what if I go back to him? He has always been a better lover anyway.” you spat at his face, reminding him the fact that Jimin is indeed better when it comes to loving you.

“Oh really? But can he fuck you like I do? As much as I can remember, sex is one of the primary reasons why you left him?” Seokjin smirks, you gulp.

Well, yeah. He is right. Sex is certainly one of the main reasons.

With Jimin everything was so soft and vanilla. He used to hold your hands while thrusting into you, which is very sweet and lovely but not what you wanted.

You are a kinky woman with a keen interest in submitting yourself to a master and that is exactly what drove you to Jin. Sex was rough and animalistic with him, he is also the best dom you have ever had. So even if you didn’t stay for love, you certainly stayed for sex.

“What happened, princess? Why aren’t you replying?” Seokjin’s hand flies around your waist to pull you flush against him.

Once you are in his orbit, you lose your composure a bit. You grit your teeth, trying to breathe out a lie through them. You wanna tell him that yes jimin can fuck you like he does, but you can’t. You can’t lie about something you enjoy the most about this relationship with Jin. And you quietly decide to enjoy it for one last time before you leave him completely.

“I am not replying because I forgot how you felt.” you scoff, wiggling in his strong hold, “you are way too busy to fuck me these days.”

“Then let me remind you how good I can make you feel, princess.” Seokjin smirks as his hand finds its way to your ass.

Taglist:

@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie @coffeedepressionsoup @meowstake @vonviblog @nochuel

#bts angst #jin angst #jimin angst #bts smut #jin smut #bts x reader #seokjin smut #bts fanfiction #jin x reader #bts fanfic #seokjin x reader #seokjin fanfic #bts seokjin #bts scenarios #jimin x reader #bts

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cigarcloud · 7 months ago

Text

The Sun Hardly Touches Me - Ch. 3

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 Word Count: 2000 Ao3 Link Summary: Crocodile confronts his past to try and make a better future. Author's Note: This chapter was like pulling teeth, but she's here. Thanks everyone who has read so far, it means a lot!

“You look beautiful.”

“I’m soaked in sweat and you just had to clean up my shit.” Dragon laughed, and Crocodile was far too tired to fight a smile in response to the sound. His gaze drifted down to the small bundle he held. Their baby. Their son.

“And yet you look beautiful all the same.” Dragon kissed the top of Crocodile’s head, and breathed out softly as he looked don at their baby. “And you! Look at you, so handsome ! Somebody gave you good genes , huh?” Arms wrapped around his back, a chin landed on his shoulder. Crocodile snorted.

“Hope you’re not referring to yourself, uggo.” Dragon laughed, peppering Crocodile with kisses, ignoring the performative disgust that followed.

“Never, Wani.”

“ Can you get that shit out of here?” Crocodile asked, looking at the thankfully now unshackled sea prism stone handcuffs. The birth had been a trial, and Crocodile hadn’t been able to control his body’s natural urge to shield itself.

“I can’t exactly touch it myself, love.” Crocodile groaned, before deciding there were more pressing matters.

“ What are we gonna name him?” Crocodile asked, letting himself lean back on Dragon.

“I was thinking-” A loud crash interrupted Dragon, and he whipped his head towards the door. “Stay here.” Crocodile sighed. Dragon had been growing evermore paranoid over the past week. The Wind Granma had been anchored close to an island for far longer than usual. Ivankov had insisted that they needed to be ready for anything to go wrong during the birth. Dragon had agreed, though not without reservation.

“It’s almost certainly Ivankov’s fat head knocking something over. Come back.” Dragon shot him a strained smile.

“Well then, I should only be a minute.” With that he left, closing the door with the lock clicking into place . Crocodile rolled his eyes and looked down at the baby with a smile.

“Just you and me for a minute, kid.” The baby yawned and stretched a tiny little fist out. “Can’t believe I let you kick the shit out me for so long, brat. No one else would get away with that, you know.” But there was no malice in his voice. “How did I make something so sweet, hmm?”

Instead of quieting down the clamor was only growing louder. Crocodile looked towards the door, anxiety finally rising to overcome exhaustion. He took a deep breath before using every ounce of will he had to stand, his legs shaking. He turned and put Luffy on the bed, and stood guard over him. It was easy to hear now that there were intruders on the ship.

“I’m going to look in here!” A voice called out, followed by the rattling of clumsy hands picking a lock.

As soon as they burst in, Crocodile attempted to whip his sand towards t he intruder. His eyes widened as nothing happened. He was too exhausted, and he hadn’t fully recovered from the sea prism stone. The intruder grinned at him. She was wearing a World Government logo on her jacket, most likely a Cipher Pol agent.

Crocodile did his best to assume a fighting position, and fended off the first few attacks from the agent. He was still covered in sweat, and his sand was of no use to him now. He managed to get a decent kick in, but it wasn’t nearly as forceful as it typically would be. Crocodile lost his balance as his baby began to wail.

The agent took the opportunity to swipe her leg out, causing Crocodile’s knees to buckle. He grabbed her ankle and pulled, but as she crashed to the ground there was a wild grin on her face.

“Got a little one to protect, do you?” She asked, voice vicious. Crocodile lost all composure and screamed.

His movement grew sloppy as he tried to push her away from the bed, away from his baby. She pushed forward, and withdrew a dagger. Crocodile attempted to lunge for her but she side stepped him easily. Crocodile's eyes widened as she lifted the dagger over his son's prone form. Crocodile did the only thing he could, throwing himself on top of his baby. There was a sickening sound of blood spray, and Crocodile felt his entire left arm go numb. When he looked over, his wrist had been cleanly severed.

“Look at that! Ha! Don’t worry, we’ll take good care of-” Crocodile used her distracted state to grab the hand holding the dagger and twist it back into her throat. He caught his breath as she hit the ground with a dull thud.

The baby’s cries grew louder, and Crocodile snapped back to attention.

“Shh, it’s okay baby. I’ve got you.” Crocodile looked down at the little bundle, barely bigger than his hands.

Hand.

The thought drifted across his mind with no real emotion attached to it yet.

He watched in fascination as the wails died down and his baby smiled up at him. His face wasn’t one known for its calming effect , but the baby didn’t seem aware of that.

Dragon burst into the room, the door blown off it’s hinges. He looked over at Crocodile and the baby, relieve covering his face.

“Wani, thank goodness I-” His sentence ended in a choke as he took in the bloody stub awkwardly cradling their baby. “Wani!”

Crocodile shot up straight as he woke up, breaking the silence of his ship with a gasp. No one else was on board, but it was small comfort. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, his hair caught on his skin as he turned his head. He moved quickly and silently to the bathroom, finding a towel. It raked across his skin until it was raw and red, and most importantly dry.

In the best of times he never liked being damp, but after he had this particular nightmare it was always worse. It unnerved him. T o o similar to when he was at his weakest. T o o similar to when he almost lost his baby. To when he did lose his baby, really.

He kept Luffy alive that day, but Dragon had all his worst fears proven true. It wasn’t safe to keep him.

“I’ll contact my father, he’s… a good man.” He whispered softly, flinching as Crocodile reflexively took a step back.

“How long?” Crocodile whispered, hating the way his voice cracked. Hating the way this little brat had already rendered him so weak. He was pathetic.

“He’s been in the New World before, but he spends most of his time in the East Blue. Probably a few weeks.” Crocodile’s arms circled their baby tighter. “We didn’t get to name him…” Dragon whispered, and Crocodile shook his head.

“Don’t tell me. Whatever you pick just… don’t tell me.”

And so he hadn’t. Not when he sent their baby away, not when Iva had finished his transition and Crocodile stepped off the Wind Granma for the last time, not once in those seventeen years that followed. It may have been at his request, but Crocodile couldn’t help but be furious.

Not now, after he had pulled all his lingering connections together to gather information o n Luffy’s life thus far. Not now, after he had read the tale of Roguetown. His baby on the scaffold, until he seemed to literally catch lightning in a bottle. It was Dragon, Crocodile was sure of it. Which meant there was no possibility he didn’t know that their baby was a pirate, entering the Grand Line. A place where Crocodile was very publicly executing rookie pirates left and right. Not a damn word to him, and their son almost payed for it.

If Crocodile hadn’t been high on the near completion of his plans, it wouldn’t have been almost. He was sloppy in his final moments in Alabasta, and that saved Luffy’s life.

He gazed down at his newest picture of Luffy, and the article attached. The boy had already returned to Marineford, to make a statement . What a statement it was. A funeral, a show of respect, a declaration of war, a signal to a new era. One his son was sure to helm, in time. 3D2Y. Crocodile had heard Luffy talking about his crew, their agreement to reunite. It made it quite clear what his message was. Two years. Crocodile had two years before his baby reemerged and had the whole world against him.

He walked to the upper deck of the ship, his gaze scanning the horizon. His target was close now. When he saw the outline of the distinctive figurehead, he dissipated into sand, speeding towards the ship.

It was far too easy to slip in under the cover of night. Dragon was still sloppy with security. Most wouldn’t dare attack this ship directly, but Crocodile wasn’t here to kill the revolution. Probably. He maneuvered his way down the all too familiar halls, right back to the door that got him into this lifelong mess. He opted to scatter, easing himself under the door and reforming on the other side. He knew Dragon’s haki was too strong to truly sneak up on him, but he wanted to hold out for as long as he could before hearing that voice.

His eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, and he stared down at Dragon laying in his bed.

“You know, few would dare to come to the most wanted man’s bedroom all alone.” He said, his eyes still closed.

“That supposed to be a pick up line?” Crocodile growled, frustration growing as Dragon remained still and relaxed.

“Even fewer who would come to my chambers with that in mind. Just who are you?” He asked, a smile growing on his face.

“Could it be you’ve forgotten your precious little Wani ?” Crocodile spit. He watched with dull satisfaction as Dragon’s eyes opened, wide and frantic. His stoic mask cracked, if only for a moment.

“Wa-” He stopped himself staring up at the hulking figure next to his bed. “Crocodile.” He stood, and Crocodile cursed his luck that Ivankov’s transition left him one inch shorter than the man. “What are you doing here?”

“ You know exactly what.” Crocodile snarled.

“If it’s about Luffy-”

“What the fuck else would it be about?” His hand raised to shove Dragon, but he faltered before making contact. He couldn’t bring himself to make contact. It only annoyed him that Dragon relented and stepped back, giving him space.

“You asked me not to tell you anything.” Dragon pointed out, arms crossed.

“You knew he was entering the Grand Line. I heard about Roguetown.” Crocodile stepped back into Dragon’s space, his hook pointed at the man’s chest. “You should’ve told me then.”

“Perhaps you are right-” Crocodile growled, but Dragon didn’t waver.

Infuriating.

“But I cannot change the past. Luffy survived you, and he survived far worse.” Crocodile scoffed at the insult, and turned away. “Do you want to be near me or not?” Dragon’s voice was light, teasing.

The audacity.

“Shut up.” It was weak, not even really a retort. Crocodile didn’t care.

“ I can’t bring myself to believe you invaded my bedroom just to yell at me for a few minutes. Why are you here?” Dragon asked, and while the teasing tone was gone there was a warmth that made Crocodile’s throat itch.

“You needed yelled at.” Crocodile said. There was a long pause, and Crocodile sighed as he forced himself to continue. “Luffy has declared war on the World Government. There was the Enies Lobby incident, and apparently he punched a Celestial Dragon a few weeks ago.” He could hear Dragon smile at that. “So, when he recovers, the weaker the World Government is the better.”

“Are you offering your assistance?” Dragon asked, and there was a note of hope in his voice Crocodile had to place under his boot.

“ Financial assistance. Possibly information as well, although I won’t speak to you .” Crocodile knew just how immature he was being, he didn’t care. Anything to keep away from Dragon’s stupid voice and ideas and intoxicating charisma. He struck that last thought out with a slight shake of his head.

“How kind. I’ll let my Chief of Staff know, you can coordinate everything with him if that’s more comfortable.” Crocodile kept his eyes at the wall as he heard Dragon lay back down in bed. “You’re welcome to st-” Crocodile dispersed into sand before the quite frankly egregious offer could be finished, and pretended not to feel the heat in his face after he reformed, Dragon’s laughter ringing in his ears.

#fanfic #one piece #sir crocodile #monkey d. luffy #jinbe #crocodad #the sun hardly touches me #dragodile

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ozimagines · 21 days ago

Note

Hi!!! I’m so glad somebody is finally writing for Oz ❤️ It makes me so happy and your writing is amazing! I was wondering if you could do an imagine with Chico and Miguel dating someone who is tall and plus sized. Your blog is one of my favorites btw!

Oooooooooooooh! Idk why this specific combo has never crossed my mind before lol. I’m tall irl and before my ED (healthiest at my heaviest and unhealthiest at my lightest.) was pretty curvy too. And I’m all about big bad and beautiful winning over these himbos. Don’t even think it would be a question for them. Alsooo idk if you meant separately, but my polyamorous brain wrote this whole thing as a throuple till my monogamous friend was like… yo not everyone is comfy with that 😬 I see dating as improv, it’s a lot of ‘yes and’. So if you want separately too just re-request it and I promise I’ll try to get it out way sooner than this one.🫠

(And thank you so much 😭 I know mostly everyone who frequents this page and I like seeing your account like stuff. I have an idea of most of your preferences at this point. Makes me feel like I might not be shit at this when people like and request😂)

Buuuuuut, while it is a Reader fic, the reader in my mind is based off someone I knew, and the boys responses are mine to them. The story is called Much Too Much, which is a poem I wrote for a plus sized non binary person I fell in love with, but who sadly didn’t love me. They were too much as a person, and I’m greedy and wanted it all, I’ll admit that. And I let them know as often as I could how wonderful they were, but it just wasn’t right. Archie was my Bonnie. That person I don’t belong with but can’t get out of my head. Still love you, Archie, this one’s for you.

Chico Guerra x Tall!Plus!Sized!Reader x Miguel Alvarez

Much Too Much (1/?)

It’s a little hard not to be self conscious in today’s world, even if there wasn’t a thing about yourself that you’d change.

That said, you knew who you were, and most people can’t say that.

Miguel met you first. You worked part time at the local theatre and he was becoming an up and coming stage manager.

You always catch him sneaking glances your way. His wandering dark eyes.

You did notice that when you were changing backstage quickly, that he averted his eyes out of respect. It was one of the only times he’d taken his eyes off you.

Miguel wasn’t super traditional, but he’d done things a certain way because people did things a certain way. And his partners had always been shorter than himself. You, on the other hand, were not, towering a couple of inches over him.

He was intimidated if he was honest, not used to feeling small.

That said, he still pined for you. You were clearly attractive, clearly funny, and Jesus you had a kindness that he just didn’t find often.

You introduced yourself after rehearsal, telling him you were happy to work with him.

🥴🫠 -Miguel

You talked for a minute, just about life in general. He said something dryly that made you laugh, and he blushed.

Miguel knows he’s a snack. Truly he does.

It’s just that when he actually cares his body kind of shuts down.

“Hey, so if maybe you weren’t busy later-“

“Miguel, Miguel.” Chico sauntered in, flanked by his men because he never truly understood the concept of a fair fight.

Miguel froze and rolled his eyes.

“Friend of yours?” You ask sarcastically, and it’s Miguel’s turn to smile a little.

Chico’s eyes flashed to you angrily… at first.

Then he took you over.

“Damn”. He audibly breathed.

You smile confidently, if a little confused at first.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Instead of his usual shitheel reply, he just raises his hands like he’s holding a camera and said “click”.

“I’ll use that later, thank you.” He smirked, trying his darndest to make you blush under his intense gaze.

Alvarez noticed this too.

“Y/N, this is Chico, who has decided to live rent free embedded in my ass for all eternity.” Miguel introduced with a huff.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, faggot.” Then Chico thinks for a second and turns to you:

“No offense.” He says casually, even if you’re a woman.

You can’t help but giggle, warming both the guys to their core.

“None taken, I guess, though I’m a little more concerned about how Miguel took it.” You replied, still smiling.

You weren’t intimidated. It was like watching a chihuahua annoy a black cat. You didn’t realize the danger behind their threats yet, and even if you did, let’s be dead on balls honest here; these two are bombshells and it was a little hot that they hated each other so passionately.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

“Why?”

Both said in unison.

You turn to Miguel. He had this perpetual look on his face that everyone he knew liked kicking him down, and it hurt to see him that way.

“I am free tonight, Miguel. I’d love to go out with you.” You reply honestly. Miguel smiles one of his rare, genuine smiles. Chico grimaces.

“You know he was in an asylum or solitary for most of his prison stay and when he wasn’t smearing shit on his cell wall, he was rubbing one out to me.” Chico interjects aggressively.

Miguel’s vein made its appearance again and his eyes go hard. You sort of look at him to see if it’s true and you can see by his reaction that it was.

“And when this prick wasn’t trying to kill me, fuck me, or some perverted combination of both, he was fucking everything that could fog a mirror, and snorting heroin like someone told him it was the cure for being a jackass!”

You do fucking laugh now. You laugh so hard you can’t see straight. They both looked concerned at the other. They don’t often get this reaction to their bullshit.

When you catch your breath, you touch both of their arms, looking down a little at them, like a parent might be patient with their kids.

“Miguel, shit smeared cell wall aside, I’d still love to go out with you.”

Miguel is confused but his heart lifts a little.

Chico gritted his teeth, making a note to find out the location of your date, murder Alvarez before he can get there, and steal you instead. A flawless plan in his mind, when you turn to him.

“You too, brown eyes. I’d like to match that freak sometime.”

Now they’re both stunned… and more than a little turned on. 🔥

You see the confusion, and without them asking a thing, spin slowly around, gesturing confidently at yourself, saying;

“Look at me, boys. There’s enough of me to go around.”😘

If this were a cartoon, they’d be drooling and wolf whistling by now.

Your date with Miguel is first. Miguel takes you out to a favorite bar of his. Lowkey, just a neighborhood thing. He just wanted a place where he could get to know you… and possibly feel you under the table if you’d let him. 🥺

You were more intoxicating than the drinks. Just everything about you was so genuine it cramped his cheeks how much he was smiling.

“Never dated someone taller than me, if I’m honest.”

“I’m a first for a lot of guys.” You smirk, before adding; “how’s the experience so far? Everything you hoped and dreamed?”

“More.” Miguel chuckled. “Too much, actually.”

“Too much?” You smile broadly. It was a nice description.

“Yeah. Too much funny. Too much kindness. You’re just too much… but I’m a greedy fuck and I want it all.” He got accidentally sincere for a second there.

You were beyond flattered. It was just a very real moment and you were happy to share it with him. You go in for the kiss, feeling his hand on your waist and the low growl in the back of his throat as he did so.

When you break apart, you broach a subject with Miguel.

“I wanted to ask… well… why don’t YOU describe your… relationship with Chico to me?”

It was not delicate.

Miguel chuckled but his eyes got empty for a second.

“What’re you asking?” -Miguel questioned, knowing damn well what you were asking.

“He said-“

“He says a lot of shit.” He snapped and apologized a second after.

“I was around a lot of guys.” He reasoned after a moment. “Once that switch is flipped, it ain’t exactly easy to go back.”

“No it is not.” You agree with an amused expression in how he was explaining his crush like some sort of cancer gene.

“Did you ever?” You ask gently but he rolls his eyes and interrupts you.

“Yes, okay, at least half a dozen times.”

“Damn. Good for you two.”

His questioning expression tells you that you misunderstood.

“I’ve masturbated to Guerra a couple of times. What were you asking?”

“If you’ve ever fucked.” You smirk. “Should-a let me finish my question, answer’s locked in now.” 😉

He chuckled again but in sort of a grimace. You reminded him of Guerra in some ways and that was hard to reckon with. Maybe he did want to fuck the dude?

“Miiiguel”

Jesus fucking Christ.

You both turned to see Guerra standing there, two things different about him since you’d seen him last; 1) he was shitfaced, and 2) he was clean shaven.

Sploosh.

Carlo was standing behind him, rubbing his temples, literally having to be the mom of the group AGAIN.

“Hi, Y/N, sorry, he’s plastered.” He greeted you quietly. Carlo was trying to avoid an all out brawl in a bar while Jorge and Carlos, equally as crossfaded as Chico, were egging him on.

“Fuck em up, man!”

“Get em, Chico!”

Miguel wished he knew at least one other sane person.

“Miiiguel… I’d been hoppping and… playing (praying) for this daeeee.” He slurred, taking a cocksure step forward.

You snort a little laugh and catch his eyes for a second.

“I’llll deal with youuu laterrr…” he nods in your direction, before adding; “…in beddd.”

“Smooth.” You tease, still smiling. Jesus, the saga was getting more exciting before your eyes. Miguel wished he could crawl in a hole and pull the hole in after him, face to face with his enemy-crush and date-crush all in one go. It was overwhelming and he kept adjusting himself under the table. You didn’t have to look. You were sure of what you’d see anyway.

“Fuck you, man…” Miguel tried to reason but his heart was racing. He was trying not to lose his cool in front of either of you but that sexy number you were wearing and Chico’s clean jawline were NOT making it easy. 🫦

“Hmm.” Chico smirked and leaned in. “Onnnly in your wwwet dreams, Mi-chael.”

You dissolve into laugher again at nothing in particular. Just the situation. You think of something and act on impulse, you pull Chico into a kiss, relishing that smooth face on yours. You then break away and kiss Miguel softly on the lips, he barely kisses back, a little too in shock.

“Sit down, Chico. Move over, Miguel.” You command both of them and they instantly follow. “So, obviously there are some unresolved feelings here. And I’d love to get in the middle of this chaos sandwich you’re both making, but I have ground rules. Care to know what they are?”

“…yes.”

They both mutter, eyeing the other uneasily.

“Super. 1) no actual fighting. Be catty hoes all you want, but as soon as a punch lands, I bounce no matter who throws it. Got it?”

“…yes.”

“Love it. 2) jealousy gets handled in the bedroom only. Get possessive and weird-“

“You bounce?” -Chico

“Good boy.” You reward.

“Anything else?” Miguel asked, half sincere, half sarcastically.

A smile plays around your lips.

“Yeah… I’ll go out with both of you on one more condition… or rather a request. You both have to go out once without me.”

“Fuckin’ excuse me?” -Miguel

“The fuckkkkkk?” -Chico

“Just one date without me there. Just once.” You smile a little into your drink. “Just kinda curious to see what happens.”

“I’m not going out with the guy that’s been trying to kill me for five years.”

“I cccould do wwwway better than Mmmmiguel.”

They both answer at the same time and cast a look at the other.

“Better than me? Was I imagining your hard cock on my leg that day? Or the way you always seemed to ‘threaten’ me in the shower? Don’t play.”

“Who’sss playing? Think I didn’t hear about ttttthat night in solitary from Carlos?” Chico shot back, making his voice all high and whiny like Miguel talked in his head; “oh Chico ohh ohh Chicooo.”

“Bitch, you got hard every time I walked by-“

“BOYS!” You redirect them again, snapping your fingers until they’re looking at you.

“This is kinda my point. If you’re not gonna say it then I am. Chico, Miguel wants to fuck you. Miguel, Chico wants to fuck you. So just do it, damn.”

“So whasss your goal herrrre?” Chico snapped impatiently, still swaying from the liquor.

“Think I’d made it pretty clear I’d like to scale bone mountain with you two dorks.”

“Both?” Miguel asked.

“Yuh. If you’re keen.”

Miguel thought for a moment. He was wildly attracted to you… that said… Chico didn’t know what he was doing to him with that clean face.

“I… uh… sure, Y/N. Yeah, okay.” He eeked out after a moment. Chico’s head snapped towards him.

“What’reyoudoin-“ he sort of mumbled, swaying back and forth. Miguel just sort of smiled.

“Unless you’re chicken.” Miguel added with a sly smile. Chico raised his brows for a second.

“Ohhhhhh… Miguelito fffound his balls.” He sneered, almost unable to keep his eyes open. Miguel looked towards the side and noticed Carlos and Jorge both trying to bed the same woman, and Carlo was chatting with you for a second. He took his chance and leaned in and kissed Chico on the cheek, knowing Chico probably wouldn’t remember it to tell anyone in the morning.

Chico froze. He was trying to fuck you, and he’d made it pretty damn clear actually. That said… something about Miguel stirred something inside of him. Something real. He turns to Miguel, eyeing him thoughtfully for a second, before turning to you. You’re still taking to Carlo so he does the first thing he thinks to do; he kicks your leg under the table.

“Ow!”

“Ssssorry.” He bobs his head between you and Miguel, taking you both in.

“Surrrre. Whateverrrr.” Was all he said, but he grinned like a bitch the whole time.

“It’s settled then. Chico, if you’ll excuse us, this is still mine and Miguel’s evening. Maybe tomorrow after work is ours?”

Chico winked at you and grinned.

“Damnnnn straigh’.”

“Awesome… so both of your evenings will be Wednesday. Prepare yourself any way you must but this is happening.” You smile and think for a second;

“And take picture of you can.” 😘

The next night is your night with Chico. He’s far from a gentleman, but he goes out of his way for you to show you that he can provide.

(lol think he would identify as an ‘alpha’ and want to ‘provide and protect’ you.🤣 You don’t need it but it’s kinda cute to watch.)

He takes you to an arcade. He’s actually based at some of the games like a Ninja Turtle Mortal Combat style game and a classic racing game like Rally X.

He beats a high score on one and thoughtfully plugs in your initials instead of his own.

He’s all over you all night. You sort of expect this from him but Jesus it’s still pretty fun in person.

If you’re playing, his hand is on your shoulder. If you’re walking, it’s on your waist. If you’re ordering a drink, he’s fucking groping your ass under the bar. You have to playfully smack his hand away to avoid from being kicked out.

“What about you, cutie? Ever dated someone bigger than you before?”

“Taller or heavier?” He asks genuinely. He informs you he’s dated heavier, never taller. You nod at the information. He asks why you asked and you fill him in on your conversation with Miguel.

“Not surprised. He talks a big game but he still needs his cherry popped for like, half the sexual experiences out there.” He remarks and you gasp and giggle at the unconscious burn.

“Interesting.”

He asks what you mean and you mention you didn’t clock yourself as ‘his type’.

“My type is hot as hell and freaky as fuck. You got that, you’re my type.” He nods over his shoulder as he shoots baskets, trying to win you that overpriced stuffed Axolotl he saw you looking at in the window.

“I just meant-“

“I like someone I can grab onto, okay?” He says absentmindedly shooting baskets. When he finishes, he turns to you, collects the tickets, and gives you a withering, heart palpitating stare. “Given the chance, I’d hoped it would be you.”

You blush slightly. He’s good, you had to give him that. And a whole lot more coherent now that he wasn’t plastered.

“Maybe you will.” You offer, taking his place at the pinball machine. You feel him pressed behind you, moving along with your rhythm.

By the end of the night, you two are making out like teenagers in his car. His hands rolling over your body.

“Mmmm querida/o/x…”

His hands rake over your flesh, his smaller body on top of yours, giving you everything he had.

So you fuck. You know it’s gonna piss of Miguel but you in the backseat of Chico’s car was just too much to bear.

Much, much too much.

#hbo oz #oz meme #chico guerra #miguel alvarez #oz hbo #oz #carlo ricardo #carlos martinez #Jorge Vasquez #plus sized #tall #really enjoyed this and meant it to be a ‘dating would include’…#but I really had fun vicariously remembering my old love through this #like sorry if you hate it completely #but it’ll be a multi parter #I’ll do individuals of the guys that are a little shorter #deal?#thanks for your support on my page

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