#i’m not fully returning here yet but i do want to send out some things just so when i do return i have some things to respond to!! maybe m

[godborn]

if this was an inbox call, would you like it??

[halemerry]

I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!

I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.

Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.

Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.

Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.

Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.

He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.

Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.

Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.

Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.

We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.

The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.

Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.

Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.

Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.

At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.

Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.

It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.

Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'

Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.

"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.

Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.

Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.

Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.

Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.

The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.

His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.

Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.

Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.

Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.

The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.

He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.

Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.

For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).

The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.

The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.

As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.

So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.

There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.

[writeriguess]

katsuki x reader where katsuki meets readers parents for the first time and her father is really strict about dating

The day had finally come. You had warned Katsuki plenty of times about your father, a man who was notorious for his firm, no-nonsense attitude. It wasn’t that your father didn’t want you to date—he just had incredibly high standards, and anyone trying to be part of his daughter’s life had to pass his test.

Katsuki had scoffed every time you mentioned it, his usual cocky attitude brushing off the idea that anyone, let alone your father, could intimidate him.

"Oi, like I give a damn about what your old man thinks," he had said. Yet, today, standing in front of your house, he looked a little more tense than usual. Dressed in his usual casual style, he cracked his knuckles out of habit. You shot him a nervous smile.

"Ready?"

"Tch. Let’s get this over with."

You stepped inside, the smell of home-cooked food filling the air. Your mom greeted you with a warm hug, smiling brightly at Bakugo.

"Oh, it’s so nice to meet you, Katsuki!" she chimed, completely opposite in tone from what you knew was coming.

Katsuki mumbled a "Nice to meet you, too," but his eyes flickered toward the dining room where your father sat, already staring him down from his seat at the head of the table.

After the initial pleasantries, the four of you sat down to dinner. Your father wasted no time sizing Katsuki up. His eyes narrowed, analyzing every word that came out of Bakugo’s mouth.

"So, Katsuki," your father began, his voice deep and authoritative, "what exactly are your intentions with my daughter?"

You could feel the tension rise as Bakugo met his gaze head-on. Normally, he would have shot back some smart remark, but this was important. For you. He clenched his fists under the table, trying to control his temper.

"I’m not here to play around, sir," Bakugo said, his voice steady but firm. "I’m serious about her."

Your father raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Serious, huh? You’re a Pro Hero, right? That life’s dangerous. You think you can balance that and give my daughter the life she deserves?"

Katsuki’s jaw tightened. "I don’t need to balance anything. I’m the best at what I do. I’m gonna protect her and make sure she’s safe no matter what."

You could see your father’s eyes narrow further, testing Katsuki’s resolve. But Bakugo didn’t back down.

"And what about your temper?" your father pressed, leaning forward. "I’ve heard about your attitude. What’s to say you won’t bring that home?"

Katsuki took a deep breath, his hands gripping the edge of the table. "I won’t lie to you, I’ve got a temper. But I’d never take it out on her. She’s the only one who can calm me down when I’m pissed off."

Your father stared him down for what felt like an eternity, the tension in the room thick enough to cut with a knife. You glanced between them, your heart pounding. Then, slowly, your father leaned back in his chair, his gaze still piercing but less intense.

"I’ll be keeping an eye on you, Bakugo. You hurt her, and you’ll regret it."

Katsuki smirked, his usual confidence returning. "I wouldn’t expect anything less."

Finally, the air in the room lightened as your father gave a small nod of approval. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for Katsuki, it was enough.

As the night went on, things eased up. By the end of dinner, your father still wasn’t fully won over, but you could tell he respected Katsuki’s determination. It was the beginning of something, and you knew with time, things would get better.

After dinner, when it was just the two of you walking home, Katsuki grumbled, "Your old man’s intense, huh?"

You smiled and slipped your hand into his. "You handled it better than I expected."

"Tch, whatever," he muttered, but the faintest hint of a smile tugged at his lips. "I told you I’m serious about you."

And in that moment, you knew Katsuki wasn’t just talking to your father—he was talking to you.

Requests are open. Send as many as you like.

[nvrsaidiwasinurcloset]

Hated - Ethan Landry - Part 2

Ethan Landry x Fem!Reader

This contains SMUT. - Minors DNI

Part 1

Summary: Ethan's hated you for a while, but a little bit of time alone and a heated argument leads to something more.

A/N: Send in requests, I need the inspiration <3

As you sat down in the living room with Ethan, Chad looked back and forth between the two of you. He was suspicious, because you wanted to kill each other yesterday.

“Uh, I um,” Ethan mumbled, so you cut him off, “He was helping me get back into my school account. I locked myself out of it earlier.”

“Oh, cool. Well, the rest of the guys are coming over soon,” Chad said, as Ethan’s leg started to bounce. He wanted to have some alone time with you, and that can’t happen if the rest of the friend group comes over.

“When will they be here?” You asked, relaxing on the couch.

“In like, an hour. I’m going to leave in a few to get pizza, you guys want to come with?” Chad asked, as Ethan was struggling to sit still.

“I think I’m going to hang out here. It’s my turn to pick the movie tonight, and I need to pick the perfect one so Mindy doesn’t give me shit,” you said, exchanging a quick glance with Ethan.

“I have a ton of homework I need to work on,” Ethan said, as Chad headed to the door.

“Okay, I’ll be back soon. Don’t kill each other.”

The second Chad was out the door, Ethan was on you. You finally had to push him back, “Let’s go to your room.”

Your clothes were shed yet again, as Ethan hovered over you. “You want me to eat you out again?” he asked, a small smile playing on his lips. His determination to please you was so attractive.

“Shouldn’t you let me take care of you?” You asked, placing kisses along his jawline.

“As much as I’d love that, I won’t last long. I don’t want to disappoint you,” he said, moaning as you lightly bit his neck.

“Ethan, it’s okay if you don’t last long. Please don’t think you’re disappointing me, because this doesn’t have to be a one-time thing,” you said, trying to assure him that this experience was more about him than you.

“We can do this again?” he asked, his anxiety starting to fade.

“Of course we can,” you whispered, kissing him on the tip of his nose.

He walked over to his bedside table, rummaging for the unopened box of condoms that he kept just in case. After grabbing one and putting it on, he came back over to you, resuming his place on top of you. He nudged around at your entrance, his nerves getting the best of him.

“Hey, when you put it in, go slow,” he nodded, before slowly inching his way into you. He kept watching your face, looking for any signs of discomfort. He really wanted to take care of you, and it was mind-blowing. Most guys only care about their own satisfaction when it comes to sex.

Once he was fully inside you, you nodded for him to keep going.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” he said, as he continued to rock his hips into yours. It didn’t take long before you were close. He was filling you up perfectly, hitting all the right spots.

You reached your hand down to rub circles on your clit, and he felt like he could cum at the sight alone. You felt yourself tightening around him, and his eyes started to roll back.

“Fuck fuck fuck, I’m cumming,” you moaned, gripping his biceps as your body started to shake.

Ethan couldn’t form words as he filled the condom, the fucked-out expression on his face telling you everything you needed to know.

“Can we really do that again?” he asked as his breathing returned to normal.

“Only if you don’t start hating me again,” the small laugh that left your mouth was his new second favorite sound, the first being the way you moan.

“I don’t think I could ever hate you,” he said, as you both stood up to get dressed.

[frvnkcastles]

I'd love something where the reader used to work at The Beef from the bear show, bur had to move to NYC and met Frank, she ends up feeding him the best Beef this side of the east coast and he instantly falls in love, then she makes him the Family Spaghetti and he's like "I wanna fuckin marry her" internally? Fluff?

But the reader is very much cooking out of stress as that's how she feels she can i guess win people over to stick around?

(I was the cunt in school on wedges day where I'd shout every one in my group wedges since otherwise I think they wouldn't stick around me,I wasn't smart enough for them but I paid for food.

I still do this with my baking business)

HONEY, DON’T YOU LEAVE ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: You and Frank bond over your cooking, but you can’t shake the feeling that that’s all he wants from you.

Warnings: Hurt/comfort, language, feminine nicknames

Word count: 2k

Author’s note: Gahhhhh, I am so annoyed that I’m being so slow with requests but college is back in motion and it has NOT been a soft landing, I have been immediately flooded with things to do. On top of that I’ve just been really tired and unmotivated, but I’m trying my best to write at least a little every day! Anon, thank you so much for your patience. I don’t really do crossovers so it’s never specified where the reader worked before, but I hope you like it anyway! I’m sending you so much love <3

Frank fell in love with you quicker than he cared to admit. He had closed himself off from the possibility of finding someone new, not really interested in making connections of any kind, but you came and conquered his heart with immense ease.

It was complete luck, too. It wasn’t unusual for him to pay a visit to a diner for some food and coffee, but you definitely weren’t supposed to be there. You had a history of working in fairly successful restaurants, yet when you had moved to New York, you faced great difficulty with landing a job that you actually wanted. The places you thought were right on your level turned you down, but you needed money for rent, so you lowered your standards, and wound up working for a diner — the same one Frank stumbled into that night.

It had been mostly uneventful and quiet, and you were left alone with the responsibility of closing. There were no other customers except Frank, but he didn’t seem that open to conversation, so you stayed stationed behind the cash register.

And then, two armed men burst in, their faces concealed with ski masks as they held you at gunpoint. With shaky hands, you began to empty the register, but you didn’t have the time to hand over all the money when one of the guys was knocked out to the ground. You flinched, watching in shock and fear how your only customer beat up the other guy and wrangled the gun out of his hands only to whip him in the face with it. You didn’t know what to do, but it seemed he didn’t need your help — within a minute, both armed men were rushing out of the diner with their tails between their legs.

Stunned speechless, you stared at the tall, rugged man who remained. He caught his breath and then turned to you, his sharp features making you swallow. ”You okay, ma’am?” he grunted, his deep voice incredibly enchanting, and you managed a nod. He was about to turn and return to his seat but you found your voice and spoke up.

”Thank you. Let me make it up to you”, you uttered out, making him halt but the look he gave you was almost amused.

”You don’t owe me anythin’, ma’am”, he replied casually, but you weren’t budging.

”Well, I kinda do. Anyway, the food here is… not that great, so maybe you could let me cook for you? Um, we’re closed tomorrow so there’d be no one else here”, you explained, the words coming out of your mouth before your brain fully processed what you were promising him. You were really yearning to cook again, something other than eggs and bacon, and he had definitely earned it.

He eyed you up and down, weighing his options for a second before reluctantly nodding. ”Aight. If you insist”, he agreed, sparking a smile on your face as you nodded to confirm that you weren’t having it any other way. You told him what time to arrive, and as he returned to finish his sandwich, you couldn’t help but feel giddy.

The next day, you got to the diner early and started working on what you hoped would be a meal to remember. You were mostly excited, and at least cooking kept you busy, which meant you didn’t have the time to worry about being alone with the man. Although he had saved your life, it was hard not to be intimidated by him.

As soon as he arrived at the diner, though, he quickly proved to you that there was nothing to fear. He called you ma’am right up until you told him your name and insisted that there was no need to be formal, and when he introduced himself, he did it in a way that was undeniably charming — and polite. You had seen him around the diner enough to know that he wasn’t a chatty person, but as you brought out the food, he attempted to get to know you better and it made your heart race.

You maintained small-talk, but you couldn’t deny you were nervous to find out what he thought of the food. Once he dug in, though, his eyes immediately widened.

”Wow”, Frank blurted out, a little taken aback by the sheer deliciousness. ”Sweetheart, this is amazin’. Where’d you learn how to cook like this?” he inquired, far too curious to not ask.

With heat on your face, you smiled. ”Uh, well, cooking classes mostly. I used to work at a restaurant. Hopefully I will again some day soon. And a lot of practice at home, of course”, you explained, and nodding along your story, Frank divided his attention between the heavenly food and your equally enthralling voice.

”I bet you will. Your talents are wasted in this place”, he commented, making you chuckle softly.

He didn’t stop praising you throughout the meal, but he also asked follow-up questions, keen to learn everything about you. In return, he vaguely opened up about himself, though you could tell he was holding back a little.

That said, the time you spent in that diner over that meal was enough for him to get hooked on you. He kept stopping by for weeks until he finally got the nerve to ask you on a date, suggesting that you’d make dinner together. It hadn’t taken you long to start falling for him, either, so it was easy to agree to what you didn’t realize would bloom into a serious relationship.

Truthfully, you sort of skipped the casual phase. Frank could be an intense man when it came to relationships, even if he hadn’t really thought he would find himself in one. Nevertheless, he felt strongly about you early on, and your first date developed into constantly spending time at each other’s places and sharing a bed on most nights. He tried his best to impress you with his cooking, and while it certainly wasn’t awful, there was a lot you could teach him — and he received the help willingly, eager to listen to you and learn more about your number one passion.

The night that you cooked the spaghetti recipe that your family had followed for years, he was done for.

Maybe if he hadn’t been so captivated by you, and the food, he would have noticed the tension in your shoulders and the constant chewing on your bottom lip. You were quickly falling back into the bad habit of weighing your own worth based on your cooking, convinced that the moment you’d stop making all these elaborate meals for Frank, he would walk out on you. Your way with food was undoubtedly a perk of dating you, and right now, you were struggling to think of any other ones.

”I hope you like it”, you smiled nervously as you handed over the plate of spaghetti to Frank. He gave you an affectionate look and thanked you before giving the food a go, and in an instant, his heart soared.

The food was amazing, but so were you. You had so much talent in you, and when Frank looked up from the plate and met your gaze, he felt so much love in his heart. He admired you and everything you did, finding you so utterly beautiful and amazing and… God, he wanted to marry you.

He had to fight the urge to just announce it there and then, giving you a small smile. ”I’m speechless, sweetheart. You outdo yourself every time. I’m one lucky asshole”, he declared proudly, making you smile but you couldn’t hide the anxiety in your eyes. Would he consider himself lucky if you didn’t cook for him tomorrow?

He noticed the hesitation on your face, though. ”Hey, darlin’. Somethin’ wrong?” he asked with worry evident in his voice, and you rushed to wave it off.

”I’m okay. I’m glad you like it, baby”, you promised, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand.

Only a week later, the issue resurfaced. You came down with the flu and you were rendered useless for a couple of days, giving you a great deal of stress. Frank was all over you, providing you with medication as well as something to drink and eat — and he was not letting you do a thing by yourself. You were his patient to care for and any attempt to get up from the couch was shot down within seconds.

Once his attention faltered from you and he disappeared in the bedroom to find you a cozy sweater, you made your way to the kitchen. Sniffling and aching all over, you began taking out pots and ingredients, and the noise immediately alerted Frank.

”Nah, nah, sweetheart, what’d I tell ya? You ain’t doin’ a thing except rest tonight. You’re sick and you need to just lay down, aight?” he reminded with a firm tone, his hands coming to cover yours in an attempt to stop you.

Reluctantly, you admitted defeat but it didn’t take long for the frustrated, anxious tears to fill your eyes. Frank’s stern expression fell and he tilted his head down at you, concern taking over.

”Hey, hey, hey. I know it sucks but you need to listen to your body right now”, he sighed, trying to understand what was making you cry. You covered your face with one hand as the tears streamed down your cheeks, and with his heart breaking, Frank hauled you into his arms, shushing you softly while wrapping you in a tight embrace.

”I just don’t want you to leave me”, you admitted faintly, and right away, Frank’s eyebrows knitted together and he pulled back to give you a confused look.

”Sweetheart, I ain’t goin’ anywhere. Why would you say that?” he frowned, genuinely surprised by your confession.

With a sniffle, you shrugged. ”You love my cooking. And I guess it’s the main reason you’re with me. So, if I stop cooking… why would you stay?” you explained the logic that you had built inside your own head. But Frank didn’t agree with you, and the fond chuckle that he huffed at you was enough to imply as much.

”Baby, I do love your cooking, but it definitely ain’t the main reason I’m with you. I love you, hear me? I’m with you ’cause you’re so fuckin’ kind and understanding and real supportive. And you make me so goddamn happy. I’d still be just as in love if you stopped cooking for good, yeah? It’s great but it ain’t why I adore you so much”, he countered while lifting one hand up to your jaw and tipping it so you could meet his eye. He looked completely serious, and you really wanted to believe him.

”You mean that?” you asked carefully, and he wasted no time in nodding to confirm.

”I fuckin’ mean it. I, uh… I kinda wanna spend the rest of my life with ya”, he cleared his throat, and astonished to hear that, your eyes flew wide open and a wide smile curled your lips up high.

”Frankie… I want that, too”, you breathed out, earning a tender look from him. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, the soft feeling of his lips making your heart do somersaults.

”Hey, I’mma take over the cookin’ responsibilities this week. You just get cozy on the couch and I’ll whip somethin’ up for us, yeah?” he decided, and you shot him a teasing grin.

”Sure you can handle it?” you wondered, taunting him, and he responded with a mixture of a laugh and a scoff.

”My girl’s a comedian now, huh? Get outta here”, he grumbled, gently patting your ass to encourage you towards the couch.

He may not have been as good of a cook as you were, but he made an effort and stayed true to his promise, not letting you anywhere the kitchen until you were feeling much better. And even then, he insisted on helping or occasionally being in charge, just to show you that you were a team and you didn’t owe him anything.

[k4zushi]

[ 08 ] GONNA SHIT MYSELF WTAF

status : unedited, written 01/04/24 ☆ word count : 0.8k

Y/N’S POV ⟡ COSTUME ROOM

every time you willed the universe to give you a break it found a way to somehow make matters worse.

it all started with your conversation with hu tao earlier that morning. the incident with albedo made sure that your nerves were on edge pretty much the entire day but what your friend said made you want to move across the globe and never return.

maybe if she hadn’t mentioned the possibility of running into a certain grey haired man maybe none of this would’ve happened in the first place.

you were silently freaking out at every random interaction you had. despite knowing the fact that you had no overlapping classes with cyno as he was a computer science major while you were studying fashion design; meaning you’d be studying on opposite sides of the campus.

honestly that made you even more nervous because alongside your history of “short lived crushes”, you also had a track record of bad luck. not one that could compare to a certain blonde engineering major but still bad nonetheless.

play practice was going half decently well. you had managed to escape interacting with others in the theater as you were mostly confined to the space of the costume room along side a couple other students.

it felt like you could finally breathe for the first time that day since you weren’t constantly trying to hide your presence.

“hey y/n i’m going to step out for a bit to measure some of the actors in the theater!” hu tao said, standing in the doorway. “you’ll be okay here by yourself right?”

you looked up from the racks you were sorting through.

“yea no worries. just looking through these racks from the previous years for anything we can use” you replied before turning your focus back to the costumes.

“thanks, we’ll make send anyone down if they have any questions!!” your bestfriend responded before turning to walk out.

you let out a hum in response fully diverting your attention.

it was peaceful being alone in the costume room. it was kind of dusty and cluttered but it was also filled to the brim with clothes, accessories, and fabric. the fashion design major in you was sobbing from the amount of things you could mess around with.

you were snapped out of your little headspace when you detected a new presence in the room.

curious, you peeked out from behind the racks. that, however, was your first mistake.

“um.. are you y/n?” a slightly familiar voice questioned.

you were trying to connect the dots as to why this person’s voice sounded familiar and it finally hit you as your eyes landed on the one person you didn’t want to interact with.

“yea!! how’d you know?” you said in a overly friendly tone in an attempt to cool your nerves.

cautiously, you stepped out from behind the racks to face the guy you had been avoiding all day.

“i was sent down here by hu tao,” cyno explained. “i’m cyno.”

“ohh i guess that makes sense, it’s nice to meet you! i’m on costume design for the play, just thought i should mention,” you paused to think, head tilted to the side in confusion before you continued. “did you need something from me?”

cyno shook his head.

“no, not really. just wanted to ask you a question if that’s okay”

“if it’s about costumes or the play you know i’m more than happy to answer them for—“

“do you happen to be friends with albedo?” cyno interrupted.

your sweat dropped and your nervous system started to go haywire. the urge to book it out the room and flee was overriding all of your other thoughts.

“oh haha.. uh albedo huh?” you said nervously. that was your second mistake.

“so you do???” cyno narrowed his eyes at you and took a step forward as you took a step back.

“yes…?” you looked around hoping that anyone come to your rescue and interrupt the unwanted confrontation.

when cyno took a step forward, you took a step back to maintain a safe distance away from the intimidating, yet extremely attractive, male.

this cycle continued.

that was until you realized you had effectively cornered yourself against a wall next to one of the costume racks. your third mistake.

you mentally facepalmed at your lack of spacial awareness.

“then does that mean you’re the one he was talking about?” he took another step closer.

“ahaha i have NO CLUE what you’re talking about cyno!!” you said trying to laugh off the sudden tension.

you were starting to panic. not only was this costume room stuffy and triggering your asthma but you also found it particularly hard to breathe when a really attractive guy was practically interrogating you.

and that’s how you found yourself in this awkward predicament that made you wish you had a twin that swallowed you in the womb.

‘i should just quit life huh’

“y/nnnn do you know where the measuring tape is?? it wasn’t in the theater and i can’t find— WHAT THE FUCK????”

prev ︴masterlist ︴next

AUTHOR’S NOTES : note that the costume room is going to play a ( somewhat big ) part of the story btww (*´▽`*) this was also kinda a nightmare to write bc i was fist fighting w/ the dialogue and awkward word repetition way too much😕

cyno is so silly.. ik this is from y/n’s pov so it’s hard to tell bc of his bluntness, but he’s actually genuinely curious abt the whole admirer thing. which i find hilarious bc he comes off as freakishly intimidating while confronting ppl😭 it’s bc he has somewhat of an rbf and is completely unaware of it૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ( hence the ‘lack of expression’ i mentioned in a previous chapter )

— TAGLIST : @ioveaether @otomegame-oneshots @ashyiiy @mafuyuslover @yuminako @waengyknow @sharkdays @tikitsune @jihoonotes @gallantys @keiiqq @mochibaby123 @lambcandle @ell1e2010

[noforkingclue]

Fully aware I'm shooting for the stars right out the gate, feel free to skip if you're not comfortable yet or at all. Can I have some dark nsfw? Noncon/dubcon Good Omens x reader? The reader always assumed Crowley and Aziraphale were a couple, so even after she became their captive guest, it never actually crossed her mind exactly how dark their intentions were until xyz.

Of course anon! I don't mind doing darker nsfw stuff. So please, feel free to send in more requests like this :)

Title New Changes

Warnings (please don't read if you don't like): dark fic, kidnapping, nsfw themes, non con kissing, non con touching,

You shifted awkwardly between Aziraphale and Crowley. The three of you were watching something on TV. Well, you were. Aziraphale was absorbed in a book and while Crowley seemed to be watching the TV you had a feeling that his mind wasn’t really on the show. His arm was slung over your shoulder and whenever you tried to shift away he yanked you closer. Eventually Aziraphale sighed and took off his glasses. Crowley glanced over at his partner and raised a hand. Immediately the TV switched off. An unfamiliar feeling of dread settled in the pit of your stomach.

It had been six months since Aziraphale and Crowley… took you. You had all the comforts you could need apart from being able to leave without one of the two of them. You had assumed that the two of them were together and they didn’t give you any evidence to make you think otherwise. Really, you felt like a glorified pet.

“Now then, dear,” said Aziraphale, “there’s something that Crowley and I… you’ve been here awhile now and we… the thing is…”

He sighed and looked away. You had never seen the angel like this before. You had never seen him lost for words. You moved slightly off the sofa but Crowley roughly pulled you against him. You back hit his chest and he wrapped his arms around your waist. He moved so you were facing so you were facing the angel. Crowley’s fingers skimmed along the waistband of your jeans and he rested his chin on top of your head. You suddenly felt so small and weak compared to the two of them.

Aziraphale turned and cupped your face in his hands. He gently brushed his thumbs against your cheeks and leant in closer. Panic gripped you and you tried to pull away. However, Crowley was trapping you and you couldn’t go anywhere. Aziraphale sighed and pressed his forehead against yours.

“I thought,” you said quietly, “I thought that you and Crowley… that the two of you are together.”

“We are.” said Crowley

“Then why,” you swallowed thickly, “I’m human and female. Why would you be interested in me? I didn’t think you thought of me like that.”

Crowley let out an amused snort and pressed a kiss against your neck. Even Aziraphale looked amused and he stroked your cheek with the back of his hand. You flinched slightly at the touch and he immediately pulled his hand back. Crowley’s grip on you tightened and you winced.

“How very human,” Crowley practically spat the word, “of you. Do you really think that something like that would matter to us?”

“Is that why you kidnapped me?”

“Looking after you, dear,” said Aziraphale sternly, “it’s a dangerous place out and you need someone to look after you. I understand that this was a big change for you and you needed time to settle into your new life.”

“Angel insisted,” said Crowley, “giving you time to adjust. Now look where that’s gotten us.”

He glared at Aziraphale over your shoulder which Aziraphale returned with a disapproving one.

“Maybe,” the angel said, “we should’ve raised this subject with you earlier. Let you get used to the idea of being with us before we actually started.”

“So I was right.” said Crowley smugly

One of his hands sneaked up under your shirt and skimmed against your waist. You gasped at the sensation and squirmed against him. He let out a groan and rested his head between your shoulder blades.

“If you keep moving like that,” he said, “I won’t be able to hold myself back. I know you want to wait Angel but I won’t be able to.”

You gave Aziraphale a pleading look and he sighed. He forced you to look into his eye and gave you a soft look. He pressed his lips softly against yours, forcing you further back against Crowley who groaned in response. Crowley’s other hand popped open the button of your jeans and immediately your hands flew to Aziraphale’s shoulders. You gave him a gentle push and thankfully he broke the kiss. He ran a thumb over your bottom lip.

Crowley’s teeth scraped over your neck and you stiffened in his embrace. You could’ve sworn that his teeth felt sharper than before. He pressed an open mouthed kiss against your shoulder and you whined and arched into him. Aziraphale watched the two of you, his face eerily blank.

“You remember what I said,” said Crowley, “about not being able to resist.”

“Please,” you said weakly, “please no.”

“Now then dear,” said Aziraphale, “I think that’s enough for now.”

Crowley let out a soft growl and grabbed your chin. He tilted your head back and pressed a bruising kiss against your lips. You let out a squeak in response but resisted the urge to move away, Crowley’s warning still ringing fresh in your ears. When he finally broke the kiss you were gasping for air.

“Satisfied?” asked Aziraphale

“No.” he said

Aziraphale just sighed and clicked his fingers. In a second you found yourself in a bed however, it wasn’t your bed. It was far too big for one person, even for two people. You curled up in a ball and pulled the duvet up and over your head.

This couldn’t be happening.

No. No. No.

You were just going to go to sleep and when you woke up in the morning this would’ve all been a messed up, bad dream.

Your breath hitched at the sound of fulfilling feathers. Aziraphale sighed and settled behind you. He stroked your hair and pressed a kiss on the back of your head. Another noise and you realised that Crowley was also in the room.

“It’s ok,” said Aziraphale, “you’re safe with us. Get some sleep.”

“And in the morning,” said Crowley, his hand settling on your hip, “we can discuss what we didn’t do tonight.”

[pixiecaps]

hm okay so these are all federation owned islands. the purgatory one USED to be something known as an egg island. however it has clearly changed. this explains why the federation cucurucho cinematic referred to it as a chill place that would be heaven and paradise.

the watcher refers to them being sent there as “they were so kind to send you this way.” clearly the they is the federation. which insinuates the federation/cucurucho had some established conversation with whoever runs this island to send them here. or at least that the watcher somehow KNEW they were being sent here. but here’s the one important thing the federation knew what they were doing to the islanders because elq knew. he was aware of where he was going when he took qq’s ticket, he knew. so the federation very purposefully sent them to this godawful place while they do “maintenance” to the dark matter.

i also am taking note of the religious imagery. cucurucho calling this new island heaven and then the watcher calling them sinners and saying egg island was to be a cute place that they would have loved and specifically “People LIKE YOU do not deserve a pleasant little break from the stresses of your previous island island. so I’VE taken the liberty of changing this place.” so outright stating it knew they were coming relocated AND THEN purposefully changed the calm nature of what this island was into a hellscape as a form of punishment for the islanders because it HATES them. for whatever reason it seems to have it feels like a very passionate form of hate. it called them VERMIN. it fully leads me to believe the watcher knows a lot of information about the islanders and their pasts. or has been fed some information to believe they deserve this cruelty.

the direct contrast of this island compared to their own really strikes me as interesting because obviously they’re imprisoned on quesadilla island but purgatory truly is PURGATORY. in the lore they’ve never had to worry about dehydration, food rotting, etc. all aspects of their lives that they took blissfully for granted. almost as if the federation WANTED them to realize how good they have it. or seem to have it compared to purgatory. and as a reminder purgatory is a place to cleanse your sins so in a way the federation sending the islanders there is a way for them to get them reformed. show them true punishment for all the rule breaking. and get them to a mental state where they’re more likely to obey when they return. to be happy.

this part of what the watcher said was interesting, “i’m sure you’re already hungering and dehydrating. good. whatever makes it harder for you to live.” so again literally stating the whole point of the trials and tribulations is to make them suffer MORE.

the element of a cursed team is the most interesting because that does directly impact the attempt of working together. someone has to lose. someone will lose. “What team is that? Can you figure that out? No.” this felt interesting to me because with the whole thought of a cursed team it seems like you could figure it out easily. i’d say the majority of the audience already has their guesses. but i was thinking about taking this sentence very LITERALLY. they can’t figure it out. because it’s not decided yet. it’ll be decided at the end. perhaps. maybe. who fucking knows. but obviously the threat of all their lives and the eggs is an interesting aspect because that means if theres one cursed team the other two won’t have that punishment if they lose. whichever of the three teams wins gets a “big prize” but the main focus is on this supposed cursed team. because if THEY lose then the eggs are all dead. the probability is very interesting to me. i really wonder why that team cursed specifically and how its chosen.

anyways that was interesting

[spookyscarydemonbabe]

Beauty of the Blue Pt. 2

A/N- i genuinely didn’t expect that fic to get so much love 🥰 thank you all for your feedback on it, i really do want to write more for him, but for some reason he’s a very tricky character for me to get down correctly. BUT, i’m glad that so many of you have been sending in requests so i get a little more practice for writing him 🖤 I may or may not turn this into a 3 part fic but i haven’t decided yet 😅

Summary- After a week of being on Buggy’s ship, you need to know why he’s been treating you so differently than you had imagined.

Genre- Fluff, Light smut at the end

Warnings- Reader has female anatomy, Buggy being a little bit of a pervert, hinting at smut near the end

Tag List- @lotr-got

(tag list is always open, let me know if you’d like to be added 🖤)

Word Count- 3.6k

If you’d like to read Part 1 you can find it here 🫶

You woke up to the sunlight shining through the window of your room, the gentle rocking of the ship awoke you further, easing your way slowly out of bed.

Your arms were stretched up over your head as you yawned, and a smile slowly came to your lips as you looked around the room.

It was small, but cozy.

Buggy had kept his promise, and he had given you nothing but the best since you’ve made your deal. Your bed had the softest blankets and pillows you’ve felt in a long while, he’d given you plenty of clothes to survive on for the next few months at sea if need be, and of course you were given as much privacy as you needed, only calling for meals as you lay in bed all day if that’s what you wished.

It was an easy life, and to be honest it was quite nice not having to ask for much anymore. You had been given every little thing you had asked for, and if his crew couldn’t get you what you wanted, Buggy would send them off on one of the lifeboats to return with what you needed and more as an apology. Out of everything else you had gotten out of your deal, Buggy was the thing you were most grateful for.

Even the crew had never seen him so eager to get up in the morning to greet you.

Each and every morning you’d woken up to him at your door, already fully dressed and ready for the day, wishing you a good morning with some breakfast if it was ready and tell you of the ships plan for the day. Thus far it hasn’t been too much of a journey. The Big Top was headed to the Grand Line, slowly but surely, and up until this point you hadn’t been asked to use your beauty to get them much of anything.

Every stop you made, Buggy would ask if you needed anything at all while they were stopped, and it felt nice to not have to be the one doing the work to get you what you needed. It was strange, having someone always doting on you rather than the other way around.

Buggy had been nothing but kind and respectful to you since you came aboard his ship, and he made sure the crew had been giving you the same treatment. You couldn’t be more grateful. Only a week in, and your life had already been changed for the better.

Though one thing had been on your mind since that night at the bar.

You figured that Buggy would’ve wanted something from you in return by now, and yet he had not asked for one thing. No intimacy, no private time together, nothing. Each and every time you had been given an offer by another captain they always wanted one specific thing from you, they made that clear, and you didn’t give it up that easy. Buggy won you over because you knew that if that was what he wanted, you wouldn’t be opposed to giving him a little something extra in return for giving you such treatment aboard his ship. And yet, he was always so respectful.

Giving you his arm to guide you wherever you went together, letting you have your privacy when you changed or bathed, and though it was nice to be able to not expect him to come into your room every night and leave after getting what he wanted, you started wishing he would.

You had caught yourself sneaking longer glances over to him, smiling whenever his gaze met yours. His touch would linger on you for a few moments longer than normal and you never wanted that sensation to leave your skin. You’d lay in bed at night wishing that you had someone warm laying next to you to hold you in their arms. You wanted it to be him.

He had already shown you another side of him, the side that could be caring and compassionate if need be, but you wanted so much more. You came onto this ship agreeing that you would be his, but now you wanted him to be yours.

Your legs hung over the edge of your bed and you smiled when you heard that familiar knock at your door.

“Come in!” You said in between yawns.

Buggy had entered with a smile, his captains hat off, a small tray in his hands with your breakfast.

“Good morning.” He said with a smile as he placed the little tray next to you on the bed, “My, my, that beauty sleep really does wonders on you.”

You giggled and looked at your hands in your lap to try and hide your blush. You had heard the way he spoke to his crew and to the islanders he had come across when going in for more supplies, and he had never used that tone with you.

“I’m glad you think so.” You reached out and sipped the tea he had brought you, “What’s on the agenda today, captain?”

“Not much more than what we did yesterday.” He approached you and sat on the other side of the tray, “No islands around, the nearest one is around a day away, so we’re just going to sail and see how long it takes us.”

You nodded and quickly grabbed the fork, picking at the little plate of fruits you were brought,

“Anything for me to do today?” You asked him, but he shook his head.

“Not a thing my dear.” He smiled and stood back up, “You just do whatever it is you always do, and i’ll take care of the rest.”

He placed his hand onto your shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, making sure none of the red on his lips transferred. He smiled down at you for a moment before clearing his throat, looking to the floor. His gaze left yours and the smile on your lips slowly faded. For some strange reason, everything felt so right with him there.

You didn’t feel alone.

“Wait!” You said to him, quickly grasping his hand and lightly pulling back, giggling as you saw it pop off of his wrist as it held yours, “Sorry…” He stepped forward and you held his hand back up to his arm, feeling the slight stretch at his wrist as it reattached itself to the rest of his body, “I still forget sometimes.”

“It’s alright,” He smiled and slowly removed his hand from yours, moving it to the side of your head, petting your hair back as he looked down to you, “I forget too sometimes…”

You shared a comfortable silence with one another, and as you looked into his eyes you could see his gaze wander and linger onto your smiling lips. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t do the same. Though covered in red makeup, you always admired how kind his smile was.

“Would you…” You started, your train of thought being interrupted by him again. Damn him and his pretty blue eyes.

Your hand moved from your side to rest on top of his as it rested at the side of your head so tenderly,

“Would you stay? I just…” You took a deep breath, collecting yourself as he sat next to you once more, your breakfast tray being moved to the side to give himself more room, “I need to know. Why have you not asked for…” You wracked your brain, trying to find the best way to ask without blatantly having to say it, “more, from me?”

He carefully cocked his head to the side, unsure for a few moments as to what you could’ve possibly meant. When his eyes moved to your lap, watching your thighs slowly and carefully rub together beneath your nightgown, he smirked.

“Is that what you want from me?” He asked you, his gaze returning to your eyes.

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks, and you looked down to your lap to hide any emotion. You weren’t sure how to feel.

As much as you wanted to be able to give Buggy everything he needed, it seemed like he was treating you so much better than any other captain at any of the bars you had gone to ever had. He didn’t expect anything from you in return for him taking you in, and you adored how kind and respectful he was, but you were the one who wanted more. You couldn’t help it.

You shrugged, his finger moving to your chin, tilting it upwards to face him once more.

“Talk to me (y/n),” he said softly, “tell me what thoughts are racing through that pretty little head of yours.”

You took a deep breath and he sat there patiently waiting for you. He wanted to be able to make sure you were living your life to the fullest, anything you wanted you got, and he would make sure of it.

“You treat me differently than everyone else on your ship. You treat me differently than any other sea captain i’ve interacted with. I’ve seen the way you are with your crew, you’re demanding and you’re strong, and a little scary at times.” He chuckled and nodded, agreeing that his behavior with his crew could sometimes be less than rational, “You treat me better than anyone else. Every other captain that’s offered me a deal would always expect something from me in return, and i think you know what that is…” You quietly trailed off, and he could see that this was something that had been on your mind for a while.

You didn’t know why you wanted him so badly, but the way he was treating you was so unusual. At least to you it was. You were fully willing to give yourself to him whenever he asked for it, you figured it was part of your deal, but as the days had gone on he had given you your privacy and alone time, and it was lonely being by yourself at night.

“And you want to know why i haven’t asked for that from you yet, hm?” He asked.

You pursed your lips and nodded slowly. You weren’t sure what to say. Even without being able to fully finish your words, he understood exactly what you were implying.

“Well, a few reasons i suppose.” He moved his hands to hold yours gently in your lap, “The first one being, i respect you more than to just use you as my little pawn. You’re someone who has what so many other people want, and you’re someone who deserves to be shown that you’re more than a beautiful face.” He was talking sternly, seriously, he meant these things truly and deeply and you could feel him tense up as his hands held yours, “I didn’t want you to think that this partnership that we have means that i get to use you as i please, that i have the privilege of letting you be my little plaything and discarding you until you’re needed. I meant what i said in that bar (y/n), when i’m king of the pirates, i want you to be my queen. But that means nothing if it’s forced onto you.” You gave his hands a gentle squeeze, holding onto every word he was saying, “Your safety, your comfort, and your needs are more important to me than this deal we have, and i would never overstep a boundary just because i knew i could.”

You knew exactly why he hadn’t made any moves before.

It wasn’t because he only wanted you for your beauty to get him closer to the One Piece. It wasn’t because he only wanted you to be a pretty little pawn sitting at his side. It wasn’t because he didn’t think you were beautiful enough to warrant those kinds of advances. He had been giving you the time and the space you needed, everything you had asked for.

You were given your own room because you hadn’t said you wanted to share Buggy’s. You were given as much privacy and alone time as you wanted because you hadn’t said you wanted him there. You were always given nothing but the best from him and his crew, and you were more than grateful, but you hadn’t realized just how much control you had with your new found partnership.

Buggy was in charge of the ship and his crew, but you were in charge of Buggy. He would do anything your heart desired just to keep you happy.

“I’m sorry that you misunderstood me at the bar, but i want to make sure you understand this relationship clearly…” He turned his body to face you, the soft fabric of his gloves softly moved as he brought your hands up as he held them, looking into your eyes, “Whatever you want, you get. All you have to do is say the word.”

His gaze never left yours and you could cut the tension in the room with a knife. He was just waiting for you to say the word and he was ready and willing to do anything you asked.

“Whatever i want?” You asked, seeing his lips curl into a smile.

“Whatever you want.”

You softly smiled, not caring wether or not he could see how he was making you feel. So warm, so comforted, and though you could still hear the noises of the crew outside your door as they did their work for the day it felt like you were the last two people on earth. He made you feel like the only girl in the world.

“Even if it’s you?” You whispered to him, your eyes finally glancing down at his red painted lips.

He chuckled, and you thought you could see a bit of pink beneath the makeup on his cheeks. It was nice to finally see him flustered for once.

“If that’s what you wish for.”

You enjoyed the silence for a few moments, just basking in one another’s company like you had wished to since you arrived on the ship. Since you came aboard you hadn’t been able to be alone with one another for more than five minutes before one of the crew came rushing to find Buggy to tell him about a new island spotted or if another crew mate wasn’t doing the work that was expected of them. He liked the silence. He liked it with you.

“So…” You trailed off, the silence moving from comfortable to awkward, neither one of you knowing what to do next, “how do we go about this?”

“Well, for starters, i’ll have you and all of your things moved into my quarters. I see no point in leaving you all by your lonesome anymore.” Your eyes got wider and your smile was bigger just at the mention of not having to be cramped up all by yourself, “And of course you’ll get all the same normal treatment, but there will be a few changes with me.”

“Changes?” Your thumbs brushed over the soft fabric of the gloves on his hands, “Such as?”

“You’re going to be seeing me a lot more often than have been my love,” He lifted your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it, slowly working his way up your arm, kissing it after each new change, “we’ll share my bed, and you’re allowed to be as far away or as close to me as you like,” Your lips curled to a shy smile as he gently kissed your wrist, just imagining the warm feeling of getting to wake up in his arms each morning, “i’ll be at your beck and call, waiting to fulfill every need you have,” His lips moved to just below your elbow and a shiver ran over your body as he moved further upwards, “you’ll always be close to me, i’ll even have my freaks build you a throne so you’ll always be sitting pretty beside me,” You perked up at the thought of being able to sit and watch over the crew next to Buggy, everyone’s eyes on you just watching and waiting for you to make your rule, “and of course, every second you’re with me my dear, every waking moment that you’re here with me,” One gloved hand moved from yours to your chin, keeping it tilted up, making sure he had every ounce of your attention, “you’ll be getting every ounce of love, adoration, and worship that i have to offer.”

You were speechless.

Countless times, again and again, you’d have pirate captains and marine admirals profess their love to you. Crew mates and marines, even fish men and countless others had offered your their undying worship, but this was the first time you believed that someone wanted more than just the ability to say that they were the ones loving you.

Buggy knew you were more than that. And you could see that he really truly meant everything he said.

He didn’t want you because of your pretty face, he didn’t want you because you’re the most breathtaking creature to grace the earth on both land and sea. He wanted you for you. Everything that you had, he wanted. He loved you for more than your body, but for your soul, and he would spend hours, days, weeks, even years if it took that long to show you that he wanted to be the one worthy of having you want him too.

Your hands moved from his and for a quick moment the smile faded from his lips, only to return once he felt your soft fingertips graze his cheeks as you held him close,

“I want your love Buggy… Please?…”

Your breath was cut quickly by his lips pressing into yours, catching you so off guard that you nearly fell back onto the mattress, quickly catching yourself with your arms at your sides.

His lips were dry, yet soft, and you smiled at the gentle tickling of the stubble on his face as it grazed over yours. You couldn’t help but let out a small, needy whimper, finally feeling the rush of electricity run all through your body. And it was just from one kiss.

He pulled away from you slowly, a smile at his lips, and he couldn’t help but chuckle from seeing the little bit of red staining your lips from his makeup.

“I’m sorry,” His hand snaked behind your neck, holding it gently as he leaned down to you and pecked your lips, “I just couldn’t help it.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” Your hands did the same, your fingers interlocking behind his neck as his body carefully adjusted over yours, “it’s exactly what i wanted…”

The position you were in was nothing short of provocative.

You arms around him while one of his hands held you close, the other holding him up on the bed as he was leaned over you, your bodies so close to one another. The nightgown that draped over your body had been pulled up to your thighs, and you were wishing he would just get it over with and rip it off of your body, but he was too gentle with you for that. He treated you like your body was made of glass, handling you so delicately like you would break at the slightest hint of pressure. It was actually quite a talent.

His hand slowly moved from your mattress to your thigh, the glove on his hand making you shudder as you felt the corduroy fabric slowly stroking over your thigh. Though you hadn’t even noticed it, your leg had slowly moved upwards, laying just over his hip. A smirk came to his lips as he looked at your lower body, and though he had the opportunity to take a peek between your legs and see the little wet spot on your panties that was entirely his doing, he had no interest in it. He was looking down at your legs, watching them slowly moving back and forth, one at his side and the other laid against the mattress. He was making you writhe, just from a few kisses and his hands on your legs, and he loved it.

“Buggy…” You pleaded with him, just needing him to touch you. He made it so sweetly unbearable to have to wait.

A chuckle escaped his lips and he slowly looked back up into your eyes, giving your body a quick once-over just to fully take in the sight before him.

“All in good time my love.” He leaned forward once more and placed a gentle kiss to your forehead, “First, i want you to get all settled into my quarters. Why don’t you change and put on one of those pretty outfits i have for you, i’ll grab some of the crew to move your things around.”

He fixed your nightgown back down your legs, taking your hand and carefully pulling you up, his glove wiping away the little red marks his lips left behind.

You took a deep breath, trying to push the feeling of want back down, knowing that he’d give you what you needed eventually. You stood up from the bed and wandered over to the small wardrobe, glancing over to Buggy who had moved himself into one of the chairs across the room. His legs were spread, he was leaned back comfortably, and his eyes never left your figure as a smirk came to his lips.

“Well aren’t you going to get some of the crew?” You asked him, sifting through the hangers in the wardrobe for the perfect little outfit to wear.

“And miss the show?” He chuckled, “I never said i was leaving sweetheart…”

[on-my-vigilante-sht]

Forced Love II

John Wick x Reader

Summary: Arranged marriages aren't uncommon in the crime world but John Wick never expected to be forced into one with is boss' daughter.

Chapter Summary: The newlyweds get to know each other on their honeymoon.

Warning: Minimal use of Y/N, canon level violence, alcohol, sparring, jealous!john, misogyny, smut, embarrassment, mention of virginity, french people, privilege

Word count: 6.4k

Masterlist

A few days later the newlyweds found themselves in Saint-Tropez for their honeymoon. “You’re on your honeymoon, not working. You should relax and enjoy your vacation,” Y/N told her husband, lounging on a beach chair. “They’ve got it,” she assured, sending glances to the armed guards that scattered the private villa. Despite her protests, both Viggo and John wanted her to be guarded on their honeymoon.

John smiled, “Respectfully, they’re here because I’m supposedly relaxing.”

“So you’re saying that if only you were looking out for me, it’d be the same as the ten of them currently guarding us?” she challenged.

He shrugged, not wanting to come off as too arrogant. “More or less, yeah.”

“Hmm,” she nodded, considering his words. “And what if I said I could handle myself and didn’t need you or anyone else to protect me?”

He couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that. “No offense, but I watched you struggle with your carry on. You’re gonna need my protection.”

Fortunately she found his honesty funny. “Fair enough,” she chuckled. “Although, not totally my fault. My father refused to let me be trained. No strength training, no combat training, certainly no weapons training.”

John stared at her in bewilderment. “How does he expect you to run things one day if you can’t even shoot? Much less fight?”

That elicited a genuine laugh from her. “You think my father will let me run his empire? He always says ‘Fighting is not a woman’s place.’ He sure as hell won’t put me in charge. I mean, he’s happy to let me be the face of our family when he needs me to but it’s all going to go to my idiot of a brother. Iosef doesn’t know he’ll inherit it yet though. I think my father is using me to try to scare him into getting his shit together.”

“Still, you live in a dangerous world. You should know how to at least defend yourself.”

A smile crept onto her face as she sat up, swinging her legs off of the chair so now she could fully face the assassin. “So teach me,” she challenged. He sat up in return, a little surprised by her boldness. He had to admit, he had always thought of Viggo’s daughter as just a pretty face to do her father’s bidding. This determination to be independent was surprising. “Teach me how to fight. Or at the very least self-defense.”

“Okay,” John nodded. Finally, a vacation he could get behind. He stood up, taking her hand and leading her further onto the soft sand, away from the chairs. “Okay, first thing’s first. If you can run or hide, that’s always going to be your best bet. Chances are, anyone coming after you is going to be a lot bigger, stronger, and better trained.” She gave him an unimpressed look, having been lectured her entire life to run and hide. “Uh, but on to the real things: punches. So stance wide,” he acted as he spoke, showing her what he meant, “arms up. Make sure you don’t tuck your thumbs into your fist, that’s how you break your thumbs.” She nodded, copying his movements. “Now, you’re going to want to pivot on the ball of your back foot, angling your body towards your opponent as you throw the punch. That’ll give you some power.” She tried to follow his directions but it looked honestly pathetic. The fact that she was only wearing a bikini didn’t help that fact either. He couldn’t help but let out a light chuckle at her attempt. “Here, I’ll show you.”

He stepped around her, going behind her. “Get back into your original stance,” he directed. She complied as John stepped closer, his skin brushing against hers as he pressed his chest to her back, slotting their bodies together. He put his foot against her rear foot, his hands clasping her fists. “Okay,” he began, his lips pressed against her ear, eliciting a shiver down his spine. John held in his groan as her ass moved against his crotch, he just prayed he didn’t get hard as he stood so close to her. “Pick up the heel of your rear foot, standing on the ball of your foot.” She complied as John used his own foot to rotate hers, simultaneously moving her arm forward and forcing her body to rotate. Again she rubbed against him, making him realize he’d have to come up with a better way to teach her because he couldn’t be this distracted. “Uh that was good,” he said in a flustered voice, pulling away from her. “You think you got it?”

“Yeah,” she agreed in an equally flustered voice. She couldn’t deny that every time he touched her, it set her skin on fire. He held her hand to help her onto the plane and that was all she could think about for the seven hour flight.

They continued on for hours until the assassin finally agreed to a sparring match. “If you’re sure you wanna do this,” he agreed hesitantly, getting into a fighting position. “I’ll go easy on you though.”

Y/N laughed, getting into a fighting position too. “If you were anyone else I’d tell you not to but I’d like to at least get one punch in.”

He returned her laugh before throwing out a soft punch. She dodged it easily, returning the favor. Although, her punch was for real but she was so inexperienced her body language was obvious. John dodged it, not letting her get in a victory that easily. He threw another, slightly harder punch which she dodged once again, but she took the opportunity to send a kick to his knee. It actually landed, driving John’s knees to the ground but he was up in no time, launching himself at his wife. He pulled her to the ground, making sure to cushion her fall in the process, but she broke free, scrambling to her feet. She threw another punch but rather than dodge it, John grabbed her wrist and spun her around, pulling her body his. As soon as his crotch made contact with her ass—again—he immediately regretted it. She took him secondary shock to throw an elbow into his cheek, freeing herself. John was proud but he was ready to be done, he had some… stuff to take care of. So as she was setting herself up to send another kick at him, the highly trained assassin simply scooped her up, throwing her over his shoulder.

“John!” she shrieked with laugher as he carried her into the water. He laughed as she began to beg for mercy, not wanting to be thrown in the still cool water. Once he waded in to his hips, he threw her off of his shoulder, dumping her into the water with a laugh. “John,” she cried again as soon she resurfaced. He was laughing so hard it gave her the opportunity to grab the neckline of his shirt, dragging his face into the water too. She laughed as he fell but as soon as he resurfaced, she realized her mistake.

John was on her quickly, scooping her up so her chest was pressed against his. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, making him forget the fact that he was planning on throwing her back into the water. Their eyes locked and suddenly there were no guards watching them and they hadn’t been forced into this marriage.

As Y/N stared into her husband’s deep brown eyes, all she wanted was to kiss him. For real. Not a quick peck or the one forced on them on their wedding day, she wanted this one to mean something. But as she was working up the courage to do it, there was a shout from the beach. “Hey!” one of the guards shouted. “There’s a call from your father!”

John groaned, also having hoped to kiss her in that moment. If he had just manned up a second earlier, he could be kissing his wife right now. And he’d have a better idea of where he stood in her life. The woman in question turned back to face her husband, letting out a soft groan too. She hesitantly unwrapped her legs from his hips, standing on her own and reluctantly pulling her arms from around his neck. But John had to suppress a groan of pleasure as her hands still trailed down his chest before falling to her sides.

As they waded to shore, John sent a slight glare to the man holding out the phone. He looked mildly startled but otherwise didn’t react as he handed his charge the phone. She answered in Russian, only saying a few words before hanging up. She handed the phone back to the guard before turning to face her husband. “You want to just order dinner?” she suggested, tired and not wanting to get ready to go out.

“Sure,” he agreed. “I’ll find a place while you get cleaned up.”

After a much needed shower, the newlyweds were sat in the villa’s breakfast nook, eating takeout from a genuine French restaurant. “So, is it true that my father saw you kill three men with a pencil and that’s why he recruited you?”

He shrugged, afraid to scare off his wife. “More or less,” he agreed, taking a sip of bourbon. Before he could say anything else, she was downing her water and grabbing the bottle of bourbon. “You drink bourbon?” he asked skeptically.

She shrugged as she poured. “Don’t know. My dad caught me stealing a bottle of vodka was I was sixteen. He said that if I even tasted a drop of alcohol before I was ‘ready’—who the fuck knows when that is?—then he’d beat the liquor out of me. But we’re in France, he’s not here, and I’m now a married woman,” she said, making a toast towards her husband before taking a sip. John laughed as she made a face of disgust at the first sip. “Ugh, how do you drink this?”

“It’s an acquired taste,” he chuckled. “Let’s start you with something easier.” He called in one of the guards, telling him to get a bottle of champagne from the wine cellar. “So no alcohol until now?”

She confirmed with a nod. “Surprising, I know. Considering that my father is Russian.”

“Well I can believe it based on the fact that he didn’t want you to learn how to fight,” he said as the champagne and two glasses were brought over. The assassin smoothly grabbed the bottle, opening it like it was nothing before pouring each of them a glass. He held up his glass like he was giving a toast. “To new experiences.”

She returned his toast, taking a sip of the bubbly liquid. “This is way better,” she agreed, setting it next to her forgotten bourbon. She slid the shorter glass to the center of the table, leaving the option for John if he wanted it.

“So, what was it like to be raised by Viggo Tarasov?” John asked, trying to get to know his wife. Truthfully, he already knew a lot about her from both observing her at work and based on what the others said but he figured she’d be freaked out if he just started spouting facts off.

“Um actually I can’t really remember my father before the age of twelve. I was mostly raised by maids and tutors since my mom passed when I was young. But I spent my entire life in New York,” she shrugged. “Not much to tell when you’re homeschooled.” John nodded, he honestly had too much to tell but she wasn’t ready to hear about his past just yet. “But not much to complain about when your every want has been met. I hope you don’t think of me as some sort of brat,” she said shyly. She may not know a lot about John’s life but she could tell he’s been through more than his fair share.

“I don’t think you’re a brat,” he assured her. “Your brother however…?”

“Oh don’t even get me started on that idiot. He’s only my half-brother if you didn’t know.” John chuckled at her eagerness to separate herself from him.

About two hours later their plates had been cleared and the drinks were long gone. Y/N had managed to drink over half the bottle of champagne while John had drank nearly the entire bottle of bourbon. “So what are your tattoos?” Y/N finally asked. She had been itching for a clear look ever since she caught a glimpse of them on her wedding night.

“They’re uh… reminders,” John explained. “I can show them to you,” he offered, feeling emboldened by the liquor. His wife only nodded but that was all the confirmation he needed. He stood up, taking her hand before leading her upstairs to the master bedroom. When they had arrived, he insisted on her taking the master bedroom while he took one of the guest rooms.

Upon shutting the door, he took a deep breath before lifting his shirt over his head. He stood tensely, listening for a reaction. He only heard a soft exhale of breath as her footsteps came closer. Her fingers just barely ghosted the inked skin as she took in the top letters. “Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat,” she read. “Fortune favors the bold.” Her fingers then flitted up to the dog on his upper right shoulder. “Got in a little trouble when you were younger?” she guessed.

“A bit,” John chuckled. “How did you know what that meant?”

“I grew up around Russian mercenaries. You pick up on stuff,” she answered dismissively. “More trouble,” she said teasingly as her fingers found the fiery skull. Finally her fingers found the giant cross and praying hands. “Didn’t take you for a man of faith,” she mused.

John shrugged, turning to face his wife. She was taken slightly aback as she was greeted with her husband’s bare chest for the first time. He looked incredible, especially considering his age. “I don’t have faith in the traditional sense,” he answered, catching her attention. She looked up to see him staring at her intently. This was the moment, it was now or never.

She stood up on her toes, reaching John’s lips. He was taken slightly off guard but his arms were eagerly wrapped around her waist in a second. He bent more towards her, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He bit her lower lip softly, encouraging her to open her mouth. She did so, allowing his tongue to slip in gently, eliciting a soft moan from her. Suddenly he wasn’t thinking straight and he was pushing her towards the bed. She eagerly went along with it, tugging on his shirt to bring him down with her as she fell on her back onto her bed. His hands caught him so he didn’t crush her but he wrapped one arm around her waist, tugging her up towards the center of the bed so their feet were no longer hanging off.

As they continued to make out, John’s hand slipped up under her top, finding that his wife wasn’t wearing a bra. His fingers immediately began teasing her nipples, causing her to let out soft moans.

When he pulled away to take her top off, she took the opportunity to speak up. “John, wait. You should know something,” she began. He looked concerned and halted his movement, resting his hand on her stomach and placing his weight on his other arm so he could look at her fully. “I wanna do this. I really do,” she assured. She couldn’t possibly convey how much she wanted her husband right then. “But you should know… I’m a virgin,” she admitted almost shamefully.

Shit, was all that ran through John’s mind. He should have put that together given her lack of life experience but he hadn’t been thinking critically in his mildly inebriated state. He pulled further away from his wife, much to her dismay. “We shouldn’t do this right now then.”

“What?” was all she managed to choke out. She was married to him. Who was she supposed to lose her virginity to if not for him?

“I want you, believe me,” he tried to assure her. She couldn’t possibly comprehend how much willpower this was taking. “But you’re drunk—for the first time too,” he added. “You shouldn’t be losing your virginity drunk. I don’t want you to have any regrets.”

She didn’t even argue with him, too embarrassed to say anything. She just pulled her legs into her chest, clearly uncomfortable and feeling vulnerable. He felt bad, but he’d feel worse if she ever had any regrets about their first time together. So he just took his leave, frustrated with himself too.

~

At breakfast John tried to catch his wife’s eye but she refused to even look at him. Every time he spoke she’d either let out a noncommittal hum or outright ignore him. She only stayed in the kitchen long enough to eat her food before retreating upstairs to her room.

John had to admit he was hurt by her reclusion. He had done the right thing last night so why did he feel bad? The only reason he didn’t try to force her to get over last night was because he knew her behavior was a result of shame, not anger. She wasn’t lashing out at him because she didn’t get what she wanted, she was embarrassed. So he decided to give her space to cool off before giving her a fun night out.

Right before dinner time he finally knocked on the master bedroom’s door. After a moment it finally opened, revealing Y/N. She hadn’t even changed out of her pajamas today but as she answered, he could tell she was trying to pretend that nothing was wrong. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Get dressed,” he told her. “We have dinner reservations.”

“Oh John thank you, but I don’t-”

“No,” he cut her off. “I need to make up for last night. So we’re gonna have a fun night and get over this little rough patch,” he said in a light tone, trying not to come across like he was ordering her around.

“You don’t have to make up for anything,” she assured. “You did the right thing. It’s just a little embarrassing to be rejected by your own husband,” she let out an awkward laugh. “I’ll uh meet you downstairs in 15,” she said before shutting the door.

Before she stepped away to go get changed, she listened for John’s footsteps. Once she was sure he was gone she went to her suitcase, looking for something suitable to wear. She found a white sundress with blue floral patterns that reached mid-thigh. Putting it on, she paired it with sandals and natural makeup. Just before exiting the room she spotted her engagement and wedding rings. John had been wearing his wedding band the entire time they were married but she hadn’t worn hers since the wedding. She didn’t have anything against John or the marriage (really only against her father for forcing so many things on her) but she mostly just didn’t like wearing such a massive diamond. When she had brought up concerns that the ring could break, John just said he’d get her a new one like it was no big deal. So, seeing as it seemed like he wanted her to wear it, she put the rings on before heading downstairs. There, she found John sitting in the foyer wearing a suit.

When he saw her, he stood up, giving a genuine smile. The rings on her finger didn’t escape his notice, giving him hope she wouldn’t try to leave him. He reached out to take her hand but hesitated, remembering that her wounds were still fresh from their encounter last night.

She returned his smile, albeit a bit forced. The movement of his hand didn’t escape her notice either but she ignored it, walking past him towards the door. She opened it, walking out but still held the door open for him.

The pair strolled down the street, tension between them. All was forgiven on both parts but it was still incredibly awkward. To pass the time, Y/N looked around, spotting her guards popping up every once in a while. John was doing the same but rather than looking for guards, he was looking for threats that slipped through their security detail. Technically he wasn’t working. He was supposed to be relaxing on his honeymoon. But he had assumed the role of commander of the detail following him around. He knew about everything that was happening. Every single person that walked by their temporary home and every boat that passed by their private beach. John already found himself incredibly concerned for his wife’s safety. Sure, when he was tasked with watching her in the past he took his job seriously, but now she was more than a job.

“This is it,” John ended the silence as they reached a very busy restaurant. The heiress had honestly mistaken it for a club at first because of the line of people waiting to get in. “C’mon, we have reservations,” he said, answering her unasked question. He extended his hand, more confidently this time, which she took, following him up to the hostess’ stand.

“Hi, do you have a reservation?” she greeted.

“Yes, two for Wick.”

“Okay, I have you right here. Follow me, Mr. and Mrs. Wick,” she smiled. She led them through the crowded restaurant to a secluded table on the balcony, right over the water. “Enjoy,” she bid them as they sat.

“Mrs. Wick, haven’t heard that one yet,” Y/N said once the hostess left. It was a little unnerving hearing it for the first time.

John kept his cool facade but internally was freaking out. Did she not like his last name? Did she not want to be attached to him? Or did she just prefer to keep her own name? That’d be fine with him but they were already in such a delicate position right now and he didn’t want to make her anymore uncomfortable. Fortunately he didn’t have to say anything because the waiter came up to them.

“Bonjour, how are we this evening?” he asked the pair. The waiter honestly looked more like he was from California than France. He had tan skin and sunny blonde hair with beachy waves. As if he had spent every day of his life surfing.

“We’re good,” John answered, not missing the way the waiter’s gaze lingered on his wife’s chest. “We’ll take a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.”

The waiter gave a strained smile. “Of course, sir. I’ll be right back.”

John turned to look back at his wife but she was staring down into the ocean, holding herself tightly. He could see the goosebumps starting to form on her arms from the breeze. “Cold?” he asked.

That seemed to snap her out of whatever daze she was in. “Hm? Oh no I'm fine,” she assured even though she was rubbing her arms. John wordlessly stood up, taking off his jacket and wrapping it around his wife. “Thanks,” she smiled sheepishly, pulling the jacket closer as John retook his seat.

“Of course. Wouldn’t want you freezing to death,” he joked. But honestly, he’d do anything to get more clothes on her and keep her out of that waiter’s gaze. Speaking of…

“Your Cabernet,” the waiter introduced as he set down the wine glasses. As he poured he finally took the chance to introduce himself. “My name is Theo and I’ll be your server today. Can I start you with any appetizers?” he asked, the entire time ignoring John’s presence.

“We’ll just start with Cervelle de Canut,” John answered, forcing the waiter’s attention to him.

Theo gave another forced smile. “Of course,” he agreed, leaving the couple again.

They returned to their slightly awkward silence, Y/N now unconsciously fiddling with her ring on top of the table. “Does it need to be resized?” John asked.

“Oh, no,” she answered, pulling her hands back to her lap. “Just not used to wearing such a big ring. I’m entirely convinced I'm going to lose it,” she said, staring at the 10 carat diamond. “And if that happens my father will murder me.”

“Why? He didn’t buy it.”

Her jaw dropped open at that admission. “John I-” she didn’t know what to say. “You shouldn’t have. This is way too expensive.”

He just waved his hand dismissively, amused by her reaction. “I may not be as rich as your father but that doesn’t mean I can’t afford nice things.”

“I know that. I just… you don’t seem like the type to spend so much on material things. Especially a ring for a girl you barely know.”

“I wanted to,” he assured. “Remember, I already knew a lot about you from when I worked with you.”

“You mean when you were creeping in the shadows watching me?” she teased.

“You make me sound like a creep when you phrase it like that!” That got a genuine laugh from her. John couldn’t help but smile in response. He liked her laugh.

Their night continued smoothly for the most part. The pair was really clicking except for whenever that waiter came over. But John just tried to ignore him. As they were eating dessert, John got a call. He groaned, reluctant to let his date be cut short. But a glance at the caller id told him he had to get it. “Sorry,” he said to his wife as he answered the phone. “This is Wick,” he answered.

“John, we’ve got a minor situation,” Kirill’s voice came over the phone. “This guy tried to break into the house. He won’t say anything but I don’t think he’s associated with anyone dangerous.”

John sighed. “Give me a second,” he called into the phone. Pulling it away from his mouth, he looked at his wife. “This’ll just take a minute,” he assured her, getting up.

She nodded as he walked away, searching for some sense of privacy. Meanwhile, Theo had been watching the pair, waiting for the wife to be alone for a second. As John walked past him, he made a beeline for the secluded table. “Can I help you with anything else, madame?”

“Oh, no I'm alright. Just the cheque please.” But rather than go get the check or simply place it on the table, Theo sat in John’s seat. “Uh…”

“Are you okay?” he asked seriously. “You didn’t exactly look happy when you came in and I couldn’t help but notice that your husband is so much older.”

“Oh, well thank you for your concern but we’re perfectly fine,” she replied, maybe a bit more forceful than necessary.

“Are you sure? Because if you’re in trouble we can help you. There’s an American embassy right down the street.”

“I’m fine, seriously,” she assured. “My husband makes me very happy.”

Theo sat back, seemingly satisfied his customer wasn’t being trafficked but he still had one goal he wanted to accomplish. “I find it hard to believe an old man like him could satisfy such a pretty thing like you,” he flirted smugly. His tone went from genuine concern to arrogant flirting, like he was casually picking up a girl in a bar.

“Uh…” she had no idea what to say in this situation.

“C’mon, you can’t honestly be telling me that you’d rather fuck grandpa over me?”

As Y/N was looking around for help, she finally spotted John approaching and based on the murderous look on his face, he had heard what the waiter said.

“What’d you just call me?” he shouted, catching everyone’s attention and silencing the balcony.

Apparently Theo was stupid because he stood up to face the assassin. “You heard me old man. Although I’m surprised you can hear at all.”

John looked like he wanted to punch the boy but he restrained himself. Instead, he just walked around Theo to where his wife already stood, waiting for him. She took his hand, still wearing his jacket as they headed to the exit.

John angrily stormed out into the street but was stopped by a shout behind them. “Mr. Wick!” a slightly disheveled looking man called.

John looked back at the man who had stopped in the doorway. He turned back to his wife. “Go with Damien,” he nodded over to one of the guards standing on the curb nonchalantly. Sensing that this was about more than just a rude server, she complied, going to stand next to one of the many mercenaries that worked for her father. John walked back over to the owner, another member of the Russian mob who was all too familiar with the reputation of John Wick.

“I’m very sorry for what happened,” he apologized, shaking John’s hand. In it was a gold coin as gratitude for not causing a bigger scene. “I assure you that the boy will be dealt with properly. He didn’t know better.”

John didn’t say anything, just nodded and tucked the gold coin into his pocket as he went back to his wife. She took his hand once again as they headed back towards the villa. “Are you okay?” he asked as he stormed down the sidewalk.

“Yeah, are you?” she asked, concern lacing her voice. She spent her entire life around violent men but had never seen someone get this angry over something so small.

“I’m fine,” he insisted as they reached the house. He continued pulling her behind him, even once they got inside. But once they got inside the foyer, Y/N stopped walking.

“John what is the matter with you?” she asked. “Yeah he was being a dick but he was harmless.”

John took a deep breath, trying to find the right words. He didn’t want to admit out loud that he reacted so harshly because he was jealous. Because he is John Wick, The Boogeyman, Baba Yaga, and no one should ever even look twice at what’s his. So instead of admitting his feelings with words, he decided to show her. He marched right over to his wife, grasping her face and pressing a burning kiss to her lips. She immediately melted into his arms, now understanding what was going on.

His hands moved south, under her ass to her upper thighs. He tapped the back of her thighs, urging her to jump. She did, wrapping her legs around his waist so he could carry her upstairs. Upon reaching the master bedroom, their lips only parted so she could remove John’s shirt and tie. As she laid, sprawled out on the bed, looking slightly disheveled, the assassin took the moment to admire her. Her lip gloss was almost all gone, her hair messy, and the neckline of her dress had been pulled way down. He leaned down on the bed to kiss her again, this time much more gentle. As he kissed her sweetly, his hand crept up under her dress until he found her most intimate parts. Through her lace panties, John rubbed his fingers against her core until he found her clit, eliciting a moan from her lips. John only pulled away from her lips enough to say, “You like that, huh?” To which she only let out pathetic whimpers.

After toying with her for a few minutes, his hand moved up to the waistband of her panties, ripping them off her body. But once they were off, John couldn’t wait anymore, he just wanted his wife to feel good. So without warning, he fell to his knees in front of her, throwing her legs over his shoulders and lifting her skirt so he could reach her core. “So beautiful,” he murmured. “And so wet for me.” His face then moved closer to her core, kissing up her thighs as he went. She could already feel the coil in her stomach tightening in anticipation. John started with small licks to her clit and she nearly whined but she suppressed the noises. But when his tongue delved inside of her, she couldn’t take it anymore. She sat up, grasping her husband’s long hair. He let out a soft groan of pleasure as she grasped his hair, beginning to grind herself against his face, anxious for her own undoing. But when he returned his tongue to her clit and brought two fingers inside of her, pumping and curling them, the coil snapped and she came on his face.

“John,” she moaned, desperate.

“Yes?” he asked with a satisfied smirk on his face. She was still breathing heavily from her first orgasm, unable to answer. “You want me to fuck you?” he asked with a knowing smirk. She only nodded desperately. His smirk widened into a smile as he stood up, looming over his wife. She crawled further up the bed, bringing her body from the edge as she laid her head against the pillows. John stood, removing his trousers. His cock immediately springing up, already hard. He pulled a condom out of his pants pocked, putting it on before he then kneeled in between her legs on the bed, her pussy still dripping. He leaned over her body, kissing her, one of his hands finding her still clothed breast, rubbing circles around it, occasionally brushing over it. “Take it off,” he said in a gruff voice, going back to kissing her once he finished speaking. She didn’t have to be told twice, hands reaching down to pull the dress up. John helped her get it over her head, leaving her body bare to him for the first time. Sure, they had been close to each other before, but bare, they their bodies truly fit together like puzzle pieces.

She moaned, letting his mouth muffle the noise. John then moved from her lips, kissing down her neck, between the valley of her breasts, straight down her stomach, before kissing her clit again. He then moved back up, kissing her again so she could taste herself. “Are you ready,” he whispered, lips ghosting over hers. She nodded emphatically, brushing their noses together accidentally. “I need you to say it,” he insisted. He needed a full green light from her before he took her virginity.

“Yes John,” she breathed. “Fuck me, make me yours.” With another kiss John thrust himself inside of her, slow and gentle. He had to restrain himself from jackhammering her into the bed and abusing her pussy. She let out a moan too loud at the intrusion, her husband’s hand quickly clamping over her mouth to silence her. “Wouldn’t want the guards to know what I’m doing to you,” he grunted into her ear.

She just moaned softer, her fingers finding his back. One arm grasped where his neck connected to his shoulder, holding on for dear life. While the other arm was clutching his lower back, careful to avoid his tattoos, nails digging into the skin as she urged him to go faster. Fortunately, he got the message because he began to pick up the pace, soft groans filling her ears. Eventually he pulled away from her, going up on his knees, bringing her hips with him. She nearly screamed as he hit a new spot inside of her but his look kept her quiet. But when the coil snapped again and she came all over his cock, she bit her lip to keep her screams at bay. John continued fucking into her until his hips began to stutter and he came.

Once he finished, he pulled out of her, making her whine at the loss of his fullness. A smile crept on his face as he mode to lay on his side, his head propped on his arm. Meanwhile, she turned onto her side to face him. “God, that was… you were incredible.”

John chuckled, his free hand brushing the hair out of her face and leaning down to press a kiss to her forehead before his hand slid down to rest on her hip. “Not bad for an older guy?” he joked, now able to look back and laugh about the night’s earlier incident.

“You’re not old,” she insisted. “Sorry about your back,” she apologized, remembering how she had dug her nails in.

“Trust me, I’ve been through worse,” he assured, pressing another kiss to her forehead. He couldn’t get enough of her. “C’mon,” he said, getting up, “let’s get you cleaned up.” He led her to the ensuite bathroom, immediately pushing her to sit on the edge of the bathtub. He then wasted no time turning the shower on, letting it warm up quickly. As the water warmed up, John grabbed a washcloth, wetting it before bringing it over. He kneeled in front of his wife once again, gently nudging her legs apart so he could clean all the slick from between her thighs. She shivered as the cool cloth touched her hot skin, and she grasped his shoulder for stability.

“Thank you,” she said softly.

“Of course,” he returned with a soft smile. That night they just held each other, soaking in one another’s warmth.

Masterlist

[finniestoncrane]

Your One True Nemesis

Chapter 17: also on AO3 Masterlist Here Arkham!Riddler x Female!Reader, word count: 2.2k would you believe that coflict and tension really stress me out? and yet... request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: angst, arguing, mean things, aggressive kissing

You woke up in your bed to a headache, the reward for the resounding nightmare that was the night before. Back to normal, you supposed. No more escape. No more relief. No more Mark. Just the inescapable and oddly addictive punishment of being openly disliked by Eddie, a man you still admired and desired for some reason. Nothing to do but to take his criticisms, because they were all you had now.

Stepping into the living area, you slumped down onto the sofa, noticing Eddie at the kitchen table once you had rubbed your bleary eyes and were awake enough to take in your surroundings. He looked up at you over his coffee and book, offering no expression or words, and then returned his gaze to his reading. He had nothing to say to you, not yet at least. While he was happy that you had moaned his name, he was still irritated that you’d even let someone else put their filthy hands all over you. Or… not someone else. Just someone.

Cursing himself, he forced the thought to remain before pushing it away. There was no point in lying, he had to be honest with himself now. The evidence was there, and only an idiot could ignore it for much longer. He wasn’t bothered because you allowed just anyone to kiss you, to touch you. You lived with him, and he was clearly the superior stock. Why weren’t you begging him to touch you? Why wouldn’t you let him do that? And why did he want to? But, of course he knew the answer. To all of those questions. It was impossible though, and ridiculous, and he refused to admit it. Which infuriated him all the more. You had him questioning himself, and his intelligence. Unable to listen to his own brain.

Eddie gripped his coffee mug, knuckles white with tension, and glared at you, not realising when you had caught his eye until you questioned him.

“You good?”

You had noticed his stare from the sofa, and it concerned you. There was nothing you could think of that you had done wrong since getting up. Nothing you had done wrong, that he knew of, last night. So the intense, hate-filled stare made you worry more than usual. You weren’t sure you could take his insults this early in the morning. Not yet, anyway. Not while you were still hurting from Mark. Not while your heart was heavy with the realisation that the choice between him and Eddie had been made for you, and that the option you were settling for might not be the right one.

“No. I’m not good. I was having a pleasant breakfast until…”

“Until?”

“Until you interrupted me.”

“Oh my god, it is eight in the morning. I can’t do this so early.”

“Do what? Take criticism? Behave normally?”

You looked into his eyes, maintaining the stoic silence in the face of his jibes, the way he was obviously trying to goad you into an argument.

“Very well. You can apologise later. But by that point I will be fully awake, and so I’m afraid I won’t go as easy on you. I might not even accept your futile attempts at reconciliation. I might instead unleash the full force of my fury. Of course, you could just sit there like a good girl and take your punishment, and then apologise…”

Your whole body tensed, a holy coursing through your veins and up your spine at the words. It was comforting, horrendously so, to know that you still held feelings for him. But you kept still and quiet, much to his dismay.

“Fine. But the likelihood of you running to your room in tears as usual increases exponentially with each minute that goes by where my irritation must remain tethered and without apology. And when I use exponentially, my dear, I use it correctly. Not that you would know.”

Despite the fact that you were still reeling from his comments, you could feel your rage building up. It wasn’t the day for it. You were still wrestling with the difficult residual emotions from last night with Mark. The last thing you needed was for Eddie to give you grief over nothing, and worse than that, to let yourself be dragged down with him.

To Eddie, though, this wasn’t an argument over nothing. He was jealous, and angry because of it. And his inability to accept how he felt, or god forbid tell you about those feelings, meant he had decided there were no other options but to divert that rage for himself at you. Berating you was par for the course, it was what was familiar to him now, and to you. So, unless he wanted you to catch on to him, he had to keep things as normal as possible.

Staring at you, he tutted, opening his mouth to speak. But you interrupted him before he could get a word out.

“Eddie. I’m warning you. This is not the day. This is not the time. If you start something with me, I’m not sure I’ll be able to hold myself back.”

Smiling with cruel intrigue, he placed his mug down on the table and tented his fingers in front of him.

“My, my! You’re actually going to attempt to best me? Very well. But know that insulting you is like shooting very stupid fish in a very small barrel.”

“Oh, of course. I imagine it is. You’re very good at making me feel small.”

“I am, aren’t I? My finest work. My masterpiece. Is that what you consider yourself? Do you think under my tutelage that you’ve become brave and clever enough to even attempt to best me?”

Eddie watched as your face fell, eyes wet with the threat of tears. Suddenly, his rage paled in comparison to the sickening empathy he felt for you. Even if he wanted to force the feelings into the back of his mind, there was no denying them. And admittedly, as pleasant as it was to relieve some of the tension he held by letting his anger out, it was only hurting him further. To be the one who made you feel that way, to make you cry. Perhaps he’d pushed you into someone else’s hands. Expertly, of course, but unintentionally.

So, instead of continuing to irritate and berate you, he stood up from the table and walked away. No explanation needed, he felt. He was content to end the conversation with no resolution. Watching him slinking into his office, you felt you should have been grateful for the abrupt end to your abuse, but by that point you had decided that you weren’t going to take it lying down anymore. You were angry. Angry at Eddie, and at Mark, and at yourself. Someone deserved to take the brunt of it. Taking a leaf out of Eddie’s book, you decided he would be the one to take it.

Opening the door quickly after he had just closed it, you stood in front of his desk. He was taken by surprise, suddenly shaken from his thoughts. His rumination over why he couldn’t be nice to you, despite his desperation to do so, was interrupted by your presence. Eddie narrowed his eyes at you, raising an eyebrow in anticipation. He waited patiently for you to speak, scoffing derisively at what you had to say when you finally plucked up the conversation to say it.

“Fuck you, Eddie.”

“Excuse me?”

“I said fuck you.”

“Yes. Well, is that all?”

“No. It’s not.”

He sighed, looking up at you. He was afraid to stop you. This was more than you usually spoke to him, and with more passion than what he was used to. He had been worried he’d broken you. This bout of bravery made his chest tighten, his palms sweating as he watched you steady your breathing before you continued.

“You need to… get a grip. You need to control yourself. I don’t know if you’re stressed or upset, god knows I am. But there are… other ways, better ways of calming yourself down than hurling infantile insults at me. So… shut up. Just. Shut up, or I swear…”

“I see. So you’re going to start a fight with me? Dish it out as good as you get it? I’m not allowed to insult you, but you’re going to threaten to be just as mean back. Does that make sense to you?”

“Yep. If that’s what it takes. I think we can get along. I think there are better ways of clearing the air. But if that’s how you want to play it then… so be it. What’s stopping you now? Let’s go.”

Standing up, Eddie paced slowly around his desk until he was standing in front of you.

“Are you even sure you’re capable of handling that?”

“Not particularly. But I’m willing you let you hurt me if it means I finally find the courage to attempt to hurt you. To tell you exactly how I feel.”

“And… how do you feel?”

There was something about the way he asked, softer than his usual tone. Genuine curiosity behind the words. You wanted to tell him everything, all of the truth. But right now, you wanted to scream at him. Letting him know your anger felt more important in the moment.

“I feel angry. I feel trapped.”

“Hm, trapped in an opportunity? Trapped in… free housing?”

You shook your head, laughing incredulously.

“Trapped with a lunatic! With a giant baby who can’t express his feelings and doesn’t know when enough is enough, despite claiming to know everything!”

Eddie took a step towards you, and you defiantly stood your ground.

“And I suppose for me this is like a pleasant vacation? Or is it more along the lines of me having to adjust my living space and routines to an imbecile who is constantly in my personal space and is incapable of doing the job she was hired to do?”

“Maybe it’s impossible to meet your ridiculous standards? Did you ever think that? Maybe that’s why no one can tolerate you, and no one has ever been able to? No friends. No family. No one. I was willing to… I could have been… just… But no! Because you-”

Eddie could feel the words that got stuck in your throat, the things you left unsaid revealing more to him. He could piece it together. That you cared. Or you had at one point. And it was unknown to him if it was too late to claw back some of the early admiration you had displayed. He wouldn’t be much of a curious man if he didn’t at least attempt to find the definitive answer though.

Stepping closer now, his nose practically against yours, his breath hissed. Spit frothed behind his gritted teeth as he tried to figure out what he was doing, or what he was going to do. You waited with bated breath for his final blow. He opened his mouth, lips curling, trembling almost. The words were right there, but they weren’t coming.

Instead of speaking, he brought his mouth to yours, his fingers gripping at your forearms, drifting to your back, his arms wrapped around you. He was holding you, no strong emotion you could place, as though there were a hundred attached, keeping you in place. He was vamping, trying to distract you maybe? As though he were unsure what to do or say.

You gasped, placing your hands against his chest. You had assumed you were going to push him away, but you found yourself gripping at his shirt, holding him to you. You made the mistake of letting loose a soft moan, almost imperceptible. Eddie suddenly pulled back, staring at you with wide and terrified eyes. He really didn’t know what to say or do. And neither did you. You just stared back at him, mouth slightly open. It was too much, far too much to take in. Eventually, Eddie found it in him to speak.

“I didn’t mean that.”

He was enraged. Those weren’t the words he wanted to say. But they were the first ones his brain managed to force out.

“Of course not.”

You turned, walking away from him. In a daze, you made your way to the work room with every intention of starting your day normally now. You hoped you might be able to pretend like nothing had happened before now. That you hadn’t kissed Eddie, that neither of you had held the other against them as though you never wanted them to let go. Because the concept of that, of what had just transpired between you… It was out of your intellectual grasp, as Eddie might have said. Walking away seemed like the safest option. You should have done that in the first place. When he tried to argue with you in the living area. When you’d first stepped foot into the sewers. When you had met him face to face. You should have walked away.

[douevenbleachbro]

Part 1

Staying with Hikifune gave Ichigo time, and though most of it was spent stuffing his face into a stupor, some of it was also spent thinking of a certain petite shinigami that was somewhere within these walls. He could feel her reiatsu, albeit slightly, lingering in the space around him. Had she been there? Was she fully healed? Did she eat? Was she training? Was she stronger? The image of her zanpakutou’s snow white ribbon curling around her came to him mind. He remembered how he felt when he first saw it. It fit her so well. He’s sure she also wants to tap into the side of her power she had yet to reach, just like he did. She was a soldier, after all, and they were at war. There were important things that needed to get done. He needed to figure out his whole situation with Zangetsu and then there were the Quincy and their King - waiting. 

Regardless, Ichigo thought of Rukia and of how much he would like to see her, speak to her, at least once before they left this place. He wasn’t sure of what was going to happen once he faced Yhwach. All he knew was that he had to win, no matter what. The fact that he could die crossed his mind a few times, a blink of a thought like lightening in the clouds. It would send shivers down his spine and made him to swallow hard. But he would arm himself with resolve, and if he didn’t have any, he would borrow from the look his friends gave him or the hope the shinigami had loaded onto his shoulders. They were all expecting him to win, so win he will, because he has to, because he needs to.

Because he wants to see her again.

“Oh, Ichigo! You haven’t touched your fifth plate! Is something wrong?” Hikifune’s downturned face materialized in front of him, snapping him of his reverie and making him jump back. The sudden movement caused the plates to rattle, which didn’t stop Renji from continuing to stuff his face. He spared a quick side-look, shrugged, then went back to scarfing down the rice. Ichigo let out a breath.

“Uh, no Hikifune-san, nothing’s wrong. The foods delicious!” He gave her two thumbs up and a lopsided grin. She gave him a raised eyebrow and a knowing smirk. 

“I’m so glad to hear it! It’s always so nice to see strapping young men enjoying my food. I mean, I had two other young ones here before you that didn’t eat as much as you do. I should’ve known they would be more reserved. Nobles usually are,” she sighed wistfully, whipping her haori and long lilac tresses as she turned back to her kitchen. Ichigo and Renji gave each other a look.

“Wait, are you saying Captain Kuchiki was here? And you served him...all this food?” Renji asked incredulously, specks of rice falling on his chin. Hikifune turned her head, her finger tapping her chin as she thought.

“Why yes, of course. I serve everyone my delicious food when they’re out of the hot springs. And he needed a lot of food I mean, he was in pretty bad shape. The little one that was with him wasn’t in better shape but she did eat more than he did. She was particularly fond of the strawberry bunny mochi I made,” she giggled, her eyes searching Ichigo’s face. She smiled wider when he delivered. His eyes widened at the mention of the little shinigami - a light returning to his dark eyes. 

“Rukia was here? Of course she liked the damn mochi. I’m surprised she ate it though. She never likes eating cute things,” Renji said as he bit into a chicken leg. Ichigo scowled, eyeing the redheaded food compactor next to him. Something about the way he so casually spoke of what Rukia liked rubbed him the wrong way. They were friends. Best friends. For many, many years, so of course he’d know. But Ichigo knew too. He also knew that strawberry was her favorite flavor and that she probably named all the damn bunny heads and probably made herself near cry at the thought of eating them. 

From her spot, Hikifune giggled again. Ah to be young and dumb! There was something about Ichigo that made her feel almost maternal. Maybe that’s why she sent one of her servants to get some rooms ready for her guests and to make sure that the Captain of the 6th Squad and his vice-captain were on a different floor and on the opposite end of the Ryoka and the vice-captain of the 13th. 

Rukia had never felt this good in her life. Not only was she fully healed, but her hair felt smooth and glossy, and her skin was supple and also very soft. She had renewed energy coursing through her and Shirayuki’s voice was strong and clear in her head. After finally healing and spending some time training with Renji, Rukia was taken to Hikifune’s place where she enjoyed some of the most decadent and delicious food she had ever laid eyes on. I mean, the Kuchiki manor had excellent cooks, but something about this food was more than just filling. Of course, as expected from a member of the 0 Squad, Hikifune’s food was imbued with her reiatsu which replenished them from the inside. She almost stumbled out of the dining hall, only to find that she was setup in a beautiful room with a nice little private onsen. She dipped into the warm water, sighing happily at the relaxing feeling. She didn’t stay too long though, not wanting to drown after she started to feel herself fading into sleep. Now, she sat on her bed, wrapped in the softest robe she’s ever felt, running her fingers through her hair. She stretched leisurely and fell back into the soft pillows, waiting for sleep to take her. 

But it never came. Instead, her mind was filled with everything that had happened so far. Images of the Soul Society being destroyed kept popping up, then the memory of Byakuya’s reiatsu fading away. And then, Ichigo. 

Giving up the idea of sleeping, Rukia sat up with a huff. She knew he was here, probably going through some very intense training. He was being prepped to take on the mantle of Hero of Soul Society. The thought made her chest squeeze. It all seemed so unfair. A part of her knew that there wasn’t anyone else that could take on Yhwach, that it would come down to him in the end. Another part of her raged against the thought, seething at the unfairness and selfishly wishing they could just go back to Karakura and wear their uniforms and go back to school. Another, much smaller but very much there part of her wished she could do the same. 

A stupid thought. She was a soldier of the Soul Society and it was her duty to fight and defend it. This was her place and where she belonged and nowhere else and with no one else! With a groan, Rukia slammed back into the pillows. She took one that was next to her and shoved it over her face, trying to suffocate the intrusive thoughts out of her mind. The room was quite, the only sounds were her breathing and the very soft gurgling water of the onsen. She was alone and no one here could hear her thoughts. It was the night before they would head back into battle, so what would it matter if she let her mind wander a little? Who would it hurt if she allowed herself to daydream, or simply dream, here in the darkness of this big room so far from home. She softened her hold on the pillow, leaving it on her face. It felt nice against her flushed skin. With nothing and no one around, what would she allow herself to think about? Or whom?

Ichigo’s face materialized in her minds eye almost instantly. She snorted out loud at herself. So predictable and terrible. She shouldn’t be thinking about him. She had allowed him to get too close, to change her too much. But she’d be a fool to deny the way her heart started to beat so hard against her ribs when she thought of his dumb face and loud hair and deep, soulful eyes. So here, in the solitude of her room, she allowed herself to bring up her memories of his eyes, and smile, and face. The way he would say her name, callout to her. The way he would look at her as if there was no one else in the room. She brought up the memories of the time he lost his powers and she disappeared before him. The mournful look in his eyes confused her, but mostly it broke her. She wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch his face and make him stop looking like that. But she couldn’t, so she left. Then she came back and gave him his powers and he gave her a different look. It burned through her like liquid fire as she held on to the sword that pierced his chest. They had that small moment together after, when Riruka and Orihime were sleeping next to them. Renji had said they were going to be leaving soon. Ichigo looked like he had a million things to say. His mouth opened and closed several times like a fish out of water. Her hands were shaking a little. What was he going to say? Spit it out, idiot! Please, before I have to leave again!. He didn’t and she left, feeling so foolish. What was she expecting? Then he was in the Soul Society looking for Ginjo’s body. His reiatsu was as wild as ever, and it enveloped everything around him, her included. He was at her office door then, looking away and scratching the back of his head. Congrats, you deserve it he had said with that smirk of his. She thanked him - it’s an honor you know? He then gave her that smile of his, warm and sincere, bright and blinding. His fingers skimmed the ends of her now short hair. They stood there, suspended in time, for what seemed like forever. Not a word uttered yet so much was said. Then he was gone again because he doesn’t belong there but she does, and she has a duty to fulfill and whatever she was thinking about was foolish and wrong. But he had been staring at her lips, and she had been staring at his, and they had been so close. In the moment, everything seemed possible, doable. He was standing there in his black robes like he belonged. Maybe he could. Maybe he did.

A sharp rap on her door made Rukia jump, squeaking in surprise. Did she hear that right? Was that her door? Another small knock came and she jumped off the bed, wrapping the soft robe tighter round herself. “Hello?” she whispered at the door.

“Rukia? It’s me. Open up,” Ichigo hissed back. Rukia took a step back, suddenly nervous. She had just spent the last...lord knows how long thinking about this man and now he was there knocking on her door. “Oi, Rukia? Are you there?” He sounded worried, like maybe he mad a mistake. Without a second thought she opened the door.

“Fool, of course I’m here. What’re you doing here?” She wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly very aware of the fact that she was just wearing a robe and nothing else. Ichigo stood at her door holding a tray of what looked like tea. His face was suspiciously flushed, as were his ears and neck. He was wearing what looked like pijamas. He cleared his throat and looked away sheepishly. 

“Hikifune-san gave me this tray and said she had made too much, so maybe I should offer you some. I felt your reiatsu and assumed you were awake, so...want some tea?” He asked lamely, his ears getting a lot more red. He shoved the tray at her. Rukia blinked, then sighed and moved aside to let him in. She closed the door behind him, took a quick breath to steady herself and turned back, following Ichigo into the small seating area in her room. He set the tray down and sat on the floor with his legs crossed as he placed the tea cups on the table. She sat on the other side of the table, watching him work. 

[sociallyanxiouscryptid-writings]

Their Favourite Hobby part 3

This may or may not be very cruel, you decide once you finish reading. If it helps I have part 4 already in the works. Sorry but also not. 

Part 1

Part 2

~

By the time Villain made it out of that tunnel and back to the main building Hero and Superhero were already gone. Urgency surged through Villain’s veins, they had their phone out in seconds, dialling a number.

Two rings.

“I need a track on Hero and Superhero immediately.”

No reply on the other side but the sound of a keyboard and mouse was enough. Villain couldn’t stand waiting, they went to the car, connected the phone and took off at a dangerous speed.

“I can’t find them sir,” a voice said.

“What do you mean you can’t find them, they just left,” Villain yelled.

“They aren’t appearing anywhere. No CCTV, phone signal, mind sweep, nothing. They must have some sort of guard.”

“That is impossible. They can’t have just disappeared I was with them both ten minutes ago.”

“I am sorry sir.”

Villain growled, knuckles white against the steering wheel.

“I want a team sent out to Superhero’s house and the compound.”

“But sir that goes against-”

“I don’t care,” they yelled, “I will deal with Supervillain, send them all now.”

“You’ll deal with me hey?”

Villain just about crashed the car as Supervillain appeared in the passenger seat. They slammed on the breaks, and for a moment the car slid out of their control. Everything did. They couldn’t help Hero, couldn’t protect them from Superhero and now they can’t stop their car going into a ditch.

Well, the side of the road at least.  

Supervillain watched Villain casually, just another day in the job while Villain struggled to catch their breath, pressing their head against the steering wheel.

“Thank you, Nigel, but you can cancel that request. I will manage things from here,” Supervillain said.

“Yes sir.”

Supervillain leant over and hung the phone up before returning to their seat. They shifted themself to better face Villain, leant an elbow up by the head rest.

“So, what’s going on here?”

Villain closed their eyes, where could they even start? Their mind reeled, their mouth was full of words and yet, at the same time, empty of them. They didn’t know, not fully. All they had were snippets and ideas and feelings, and all of that wouldn’t be enough. Villain was supposed to be the one with the hard facts, the one who gets information. How could they admit they had willingly and knowingly omitted to do so with one of Superhero’s top enforcers?

In the Silence Supervillain kept talking.

“I was curious as to who would be going and activating such an old safehouse, I hadn’t even thought of the old mansion in years. I can honestly say thought I didn’t expect it to be you, and not with Hero either. That was a decent surprise.”

Villain opened their eyes and stared.

“How-”

Villain stopped themself, the cameras, of course. They sighed, resumed their original position.

“Quite the predicament you have got yourself in here. Fraternising with the enemy, getting yourself caught up with Superhero, you’ve been busy behind my back.”

“I’m not fraternising with the enemy,” Villain snapped.

“You’re right, fraternising would actually be productive, instead you’re using my resources for quirky little kidnappings that really aren’t that subtle.”

Villain scoffed, “don’t pretend you care about that, sleeping with Hero’s is basically a side hobby of yours.”

Supervillain’s brows knitted, “I haven’t slept with that many have I?”

“Enough that I knew you wouldn’t care about this,” Villain said.

“Fair,” Supervillain nodded. “My question then, is, well, I have many, but my main question is how did Superhero find you?”

Villain frowned, that was a good question.

“That place is before Superhero’s time, and I know for certain they didn’t know about it before now. So, how did they find it? And so quickly too? You and Hero were only there a couple hours at most.”

Villain stared down at their feet, their grip was a little more relaxed, mind a little more clear as Supervillain’s words shooed away the fog.

“They can’t be free…” Villain whispered.

“Pardon?”

Villain sat up.

“Superhero has a tracker on Hero.”

Supervillains brows rose, but their eyes said they were already at that step.

“Huh, that’s weird, I thought Hero was meant to be Superhero’s most trusted enforcer?”

Villain eyed Supervillain.

“What do you know?”

“Enough that you should report to your boss before deciding to go on a suicide mission against one of the most powerful people in existence.”

Villain ignore them.

“What do you know?

Supervillain sighed, “I know that things aren’t as La-de-da over there as we have been led to believe, and that Superhero goes to great measures to keep something a secret. I don’t really know what, but I know it’s bad, and it involves Hero, all the heroes in fact.”

“All of them?” Villain frowned.

Hero feels trapped, they are scared, of Superhero clearly. But if that’s the case for everyone… what does that mean? That level of fear, it has to be some degree of abuse for sure, but then why stay? And if all of them are experiencing it why not speak up about it? They are all powerful people, together they could do it surely.

And then a wild idea entered Villain’s mind, what if none of the heroes are willingly heroes?

But Hero has stood up to Villains of all calibres, the worst of the worst that even Villain couldn’t stand up to. What could Superhero be possibly doing to cause Hero of all people to be so afraid, that would keep them anywhere they didn’t want to be?

“Now that you are a bit calmer,” Supervillain said, “I need you to stay calm, no rushing off into this situation. You aren’t going to find Superhero today.”

A shot of panic went through Villain.

“What do you mean?”

Supervillain held out a hand, “I said remain calm. If Superhero doesn’t want to be found, they won’t be found. They have people whose specific job it is to hide them from all detection.”

“But-”

“I know, I heard, Hero is in trouble, I am willing to help you, but we have to wait. Superhero’s people can only keep complete guard up for a week at the most, after that it begins to falter and if we keep a fine enough net out it will pop up immediately.”

Villain turned in their seat.

“A week? That’s too long. Something is wrong, and I can feel it.”

“Villain, I know. I understand you want to protect Hero, but this is the best we can do. You will get yourself killed if you try anything today and I can’t let that happen.”

Villain shook their head.

“No, I can’t, I won’t.”

“Villain, this is an order.”

“Fuck your orders, I am not leaving Hero there for another second when I know they are in danger.”

Supervillain sighed, “I thought as much.”

In that moment Villain’s door opened and hands reached in, grabbing them. They struggled, but the hands were strong and skilled and once Villain’s arms were out of the way, a needle pierced their neck.

“I’m sorry Villain. We will get them out, I promise.”

The words began drifting away as Villain’s eyes grew heavy. The hands vanished, Villain’s head lolled to the side, seatbelt holding them up as the world faded to black.

~

A week was too long. Far, far too long. Supervillain kept Villain couped up at the compound, restricted to a very small area that remained in Supervillain’s area of awareness. They couldn’t blame Supervillain, they were right, without the appropriate supervision Villain one hundred percent would have cooked up an insane plan and headed out without a second thought. They wanted to very badly.

But they didn’t, and it felt like they were burning from the inside out. It was a unique experience. For the longest time Villain had seen Hero as a game. A fun little game that made them feel good afterwards. But at some point, the game was no longer a game and an excuse to be around Hero, because it wasn’t the game that made them feel good, it was Hero.

And now that Hero was in danger, now that they had seen how afraid Hero was, seen them cry, something else shifted inside of them. The world was a little less black and white, and now Villain saw red too.  

“I’ve never seen you like this,” Supervillain said, watching Villain from across the table.

Villain stared down at their plate of barely touched food.

“You never really get close to people,” they continued, “does anyone here other then me even know your real name?”

Villain shifted food around with their fork.

“I mean it’s perfectly fine if you are the type of person who just likes being alone, but you don’t really strike me as that type of person.

Villain shrugged.

“People just get in the way.”

Supervillain scoffed.

“I don’t believe you actually think that, if that’s the case you wouldn’t have let Hero get close, unless you are going to try and tell me romantic love is the ‘one true love that breaks through anything’,” Supervillain mocked.

Villain glanced up at them, back down at their food. Supervillain’s smile faded.

“Ok, now I am getting the sense this is a trauma thing and you don’t need to talk about it.”

Villain shrugged.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?” Supervillain asked.

An awkward glance.

“Hero,” Villain said.

“Ideally I meant a psychologist, but that’s something I guess.”

Villain shrugged again, “Hero was there with me when it happened, they understand which helps.”

Supervillain’s eyes widened. “It was recent? It wasn’t… oh… Other Villain?”

Villain nodded.

“I’m not a person who has many friends, just had one really good one.”

And Villain let them down, let them be killed painfully and slowly. It was one of the first times Hero went against what Villain thought was their nature, went out of their way to help Villain, tried to save Other Villain. Villain remembers them covered in blood, stitching up their friend, taking them to a safe house. But neither of them knew about the poison, and by the time they did it was too late. Other Villain died in Villain’s arms.

At least they got to say goodbye.

Villain put down their fork.

“I’m going for a walk,” they said, standing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to bring anything up,” Supervillain said.

Another shrug.

“It doesn’t matter. I just hope I don’t lose another person,” Villain couldn’t keep the bitterness out of their voice. It wasn’t Supervillain’s fault, they were doing what had to be done in this situation, but it didn’t hurt Villain any less.

Another sleepless night went by, another day. Villain lay in their bed staring up at the ceiling, hating Supervillain, hating Superhero and eventually the world in general. If the world wasn’t such a shitty place, Villain wouldn’t be a villain, Hero wouldn’t be a hero and maybe they would have never met, but at least this wouldn’t be happening. At least they wouldn’t be suffering.

Villain’s bedroom door flew open, Nigel.

“We found them.”

Villain shot up and rushed out of the room.

“Are they ok?”

“Can’t tell, but we think they are at some sort of safehouse, or at least a building Superhero went to great lengths to keep secret.”

“That seems to be a common theme lately,” Villain said.  

“Supervillain has an extraction team already ready and a second suiting up, Supervillain is waiting for you at the car.”

Villain nodded and the two split off. The moment Nigel was gone Villain took off into a run, navigating the halls of the compound until they were at the garage, Supervillain waiting.

“You need to prepare yourself for what might happen next,” Supervillain said.

“Don’t say that, they’re gonna be fine.”

“I don’t mean that, I mean for the chance of this being an ambush,” Supervillain said. “If it turns that way you are to evacuate with me immediately. I am only letting you come in the first place out of curtesy, but you are far too valuable to get captured. The information you have in your head, what they could do with your abilities, I am not going to risk that kind of compromise for anything, understand?”

Villain nodded, but neither were convinced.

“Let’s go then.”

The extraction team got into a car behind them, and the two cars took off down the road, slowly their pace only once they got off of private property.

The address wasn’t where Villain expected it to be, which perhaps worked in their favour. It was on a more remote side of the city, an old, abandoned building four storey’s tall with a basement below.

“This smells very fishy to me,” Supervillain said.

“We aren’t turning around,” Villain said.

“No, but we need to be careful.”

They parked two blocks away, the extraction team interspersing between the buildings as they approached the target. Villain and Supervillain led, Supervillain grabbing Villain’s arms as they approached a door and they both vanished.

They appeared on the other side, Supervillain on high alert but no guards stood there. Supervillain unlocked the door, let the team flood in.

“High alert everyone, the chances of an ambush are high, recognise your nearest teleporter and be ready to get out, if need be,” Supervillain said as the team walked by.

The extraction team split up, each taking a floor, three of them went down. Villain and Supervillain followed those ones.

“Now Villain, don’t go rushing in. Stay by my side, no matter what happens.”

Villain didn’t answer. This entire time, this entire week they had been fighting their own mind to remain logical, to be the calm strategic person they usually are. They hated running on impulse, being purely reactive but the fight was getting hard. When they see Hero, they don’t know what they will do.

The basement was locked, Supervillain grabbed Villain’s arm again and they vanished, appearing on the other side.

The room smelt like blood. Old and dried and rancid. An intense nausea hit Villain and if they had eaten at all today it would have come straight back up. The room was large and dark, Villain took out their phone and turned on the torch.

“Villain wait here while I unlock the door,” Supervillain said.

Villain took a few steps but forced themself to stop walking. It hurt to, but logic, they had to remember logic. The light didn’t reach a single wall around them, just a few metres along the cement floor.

And then the lights turned on.

A bright and blinding flash that seared their eyes. Villain grimaced, eyes watering, covering them in an attempt to adjust. After a moment they regained blurry vision and the blinked at a black blur hanging across the room. They didn’t need to see to know.

“Hero,” Villain breathed and rushed over.

Their vision returned and they stared at Hero’s hanging form, chains around their wrists keeping their toes just on the ground. They were covered in blood, no wounds to see but the bruises on their face and redness around their wrists.

“Hero,” Villain said, gently nudging them.  

Hero startled, jerking aware as their eyes snapped to Villain, grimacing as the chains swayed, pulling against them, rubbing their wrists.

“Hey, it’s ok, it’s me,” Villain said.

Hero started, breath easing, but they said nothing.

“I am so sorry,” Villain said, “I tried but Supervillains wouldn’t,” they stopped, took a breath. “I am going to get you down.”

Villain moved behind them to where the chains were fastened.

They undid it, easing them down as slowly as possible, Hero standing shakily the moment they could. Villain released it faster then, until everything was completely slack and quickly rushed back to Hero’s side, pulling out some lock picks.

“Why are you here,” Hero rasped.

Villain stopped, frowned.

“What do you mean why am I here? I told you I am not leaving you with them.”

Villain watched anger seep into Hero’s features.

“Has my point not already been proven? You can’t help me, and you are only making things worse by trying.”

But something seemed off, Villain didn’t see it reach their eyes.

“We can protect you, fighting superheroes and heroes is what we do.”

Hero’s hand shot out, chains rattling as their fingers wrapped around Villain’s neck so fast and sudden, they choked. Hero snarled.  

“You need to give up on this childish endeavour. I am not a damsel for you to save, and you are not a hero. You are a worthless villain, and I am done with this game of yours.”

“Hero-”

Villain’s words were cut off as Hero squeezed tighter and tighter.

“I was never interested in you,” Hero said, “how could I? You are nothing and I am a hero, we are opposites.”

Villain’s vision was fading, black dots dancing, their face changing colours.

“I hate you,” Hero said.

Villain’s neck snapped and the world vanished.  

~

Let me know if the tags work cos I still can’t tell

@hollowgast1

@leafamaranth

@pigeonwhumps

@laffy-taffy-creations

@paintedpigeon1

@empathyraven

@enigmawritesstuff

@psychiclibrariesquotestoad

@thedeepvoidinmyheart

@painless-and-colourful

[gretavangroupie]

Wilt (Chapter 3)

Chapter 2

Wilt Playlist

A/N: MERRY CHRISTMAS! THANKS FOR READING!

THIS FIC RELIES HEAVILY ON THE PLAYLIST LINKED ABOVE. TO FULLY UNDERSTAND THE STORY YOU MUST PLAY THE SONGS WHEN YOU SEE THE LYRICS.

WARNINGS: Angst, Smut, 18+ as always.

When you wake up you’re facing Jake’s side of the bed, but there is no Jake. His spot feels cold and the room is now lit by a lamp. You see him in the corner of the room sitting on the floor, quietly packing his things into a suitcase. You lay there watching him, he doesn’t notice that you’re awake yet. The digital clock on the dresser says 10:00 pm. You both must have slept half of the day away after returning from the office. You wonder where he is going since he hasn’t mentioned anything to you. As you watch him he is neatly folding his things as small as possible to fit into the suitcase. He glances up and sees you watching him and smiles.

“Comfy?” He asks.

You realize you are completely wrapped in the big fluffy duvet. 

“Yes, but a little cold. You left me in here.” You say.

“I had to, we leave in the morning and I haven’t packed shit.” He says with a sad look.

“You didn’t tell me…” you say in a sad tone.

“Ah, it’s just for a few days. Wish you could come but we’ll be back quick.” He says with a soft smile.

“I’ve seen this movie… Rockstar beds hot girl, leaves her to go play his guitar around the world never speaking to her again…” you joke.

“Not quite darlin. Not this time.” He says back smirking.

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“Los Angeles, we’ll be there a week.” He replies.

“Oh wow, a week? I am really going to fall behind in my lessons.” You say with a smug grin.

“Oh no you’re not. You’re going to practice and send me videos. Like normal.” He says firmly.

“No, you’ll be too busy for all of that…” You reply.

He stands up and walks over to you, placing a firm kiss on your lips, “Not too busy.” 

“Do you have a show out there or….” You question.

“Yeah we are wrapping up some stuff for the new album during the week, and we have a show Friday night. Should be back Saturday night.” He replies sitting down on the edge of the bed.

“I mean it, you will send me videos, right?” He asks with his hand on your cheek.

“Maybe.” You reply devilishly.

“I’m gonna write you out some chords that I want you to practice while I’m gone. When I get back, if it sounds good, you’ll be rewarded.” He says smugly.

“Oh, what kind of reward?” You ask.

“You know the kind darlin.” He replies before getting up and making his way to the closet. 

He begins grabbing things off hangers and throwing them over his shoulders.

“What time are you leaving in the morning?” You ask.

“Josh said our flight is at 9:00am, so we will probably leave here around 7:00? I don’t know, that man has his own agenda sometimes… I just follow him.” He jokes.

“Yeah he kinda seems like he likes to be in charge…” you laugh.

“You have no idea…” he replies laughing.

He finishes packing his items into the suitcase and wheels it to the front door, before returning back to you. 

“Well now its 10:30 and we are both wide awake. Now what?” You ask.

“Well, the only thing we can do I guess… let’s practice.” He says.

He walks into the music room and grabs two acoustic guitars and brings them back to his bedroom, shutting the door.

He hands one to you and looks at you smirking before walking into his closet. The next thing you know a t-shirt is flying towards your face.  You smile a silent thank you and pull it over your head.

You look down at the shirt and see it says ‘Greta Van Fleet’ and is broken in just right. You can tell it's old.

“Keep it.” He says.

“Really? Are you sure?” You ask.

“I am. Looks good on you.” He replies.

“Now let’s see where we stand, play that song we worked on earlier?” He asks.

You position the guitar in your hands and and right as you are about to play he stops you.

“Wrist, baby. You're too tight.” He says.

You reposition yourself and he nods his head in approval.

You play the first few chords flawlessly and are feeling confident with your progress. You slip up on finger placement and he raises an eyebrow at you slowly, pursing his lips.

“Pretty good. Keep working on it this week. Wanna do another or….” He asks.

“Yes, but play it for me first. You don’t play enough for me…I want to watch you, too.” You say. 

“Alright, you might know this one. This is one of the first ones I learned myself…” he trails off.

He picks up the guitar and starts strumming the intro to ‘Wild Horses’ by The Rolling Stones.

“I do know this one. Will you sing it?” You ask.

“Ahhh I don’t do that much, typically leave it to Josh.” He replies.

You place a hand on his crossed legs, “Please?” You ask.

Blowing out a deep breath, he sings softly with closed eyes feeling each word.

“Graceless lady, you know who I am. You know I can’t let you, slide through my hands. Wild horses, couldn’t drag me away. Wild, wild horses couldn’t drag me away…”

As if he was singing that song straight to your heart, your eyes well with tiny tears. “Jake you have a beautiful voice…” you say with a shaky voice. You never want to forget him like this.

“Ah, I never sing really, but thanks darlin. Don’t tell anyone I did that.” He laughs and his eyes hold yours for a few seconds.

“Alright, you want to learn the intro?” He asks.

“I do.” You reply with a smile. 

Over the next hour you learn the opening chords and strumming pattern for the song. You watch in awe as Jake so patiently teaches you, demonstrating each note on his guitar, then helping you on yours. Again you start to wonder what drew him to you that day, and why he is so graciously helping you learn. As you stare down at your fingers on the strings you feel a soft kiss on your neck. 

“What was that for?” You ask playfully.

“I was just thinking about how I won’t be here this week…and watching you play right now… and you’re just beautiful. I don’t know, I just needed to.” He says shyly.

You lay the guitar down in your lap and turn towards him taking his face in your hands, you place a soft kiss on his lips. “I’ll miss you too.” You say. 

“Let’s take a break, you up for a drink?” He asks.

“Always.” You reply

You slide on a pair of sweatpants that Jake has thrown to you from his chair pile, and you both make your way into the living room. Josh is reading a book by the fireplace and drinking what looks like scotch. Jake pours you both whatever is out on the counter and you graciously accept. 

“Dude, what’s the plan this week? What all do we have going on?” Jake asks Josh, sitting down on the couch. 

Josh looks up from his book and bends the page down, closing it and throwing it on the coffee table. 

“It looks like mostly interviews, and press meetings. We have a photoshoot and the show Friday. I think we have some Christmas shopping activities that Sam orchestrated but other than that…” he trails off shrugging his shoulders. 

“The usual…” Jake replies. “What time are we outta here tomorrow?”

“I’m thinking 7:00?” He replies. “Actually I need to go to bed, I was just out here winding down a little bit.”

“We accidentally slept all day, so now we will be up for a while.” Jake says.

“Great, well can you keep it down, sheesh…” Josh jokes shaking his head. Your face flushing red. “No, I’m just kidding I don’t hear anything, you kids be as loud as you want…anyways, goodnight you two.” He stands up and makes his descent down the hallway and you hear the door shut.

“Do you want to watch a movie or something?” Jake asks.

“Sure, you can pick.” You reply.

You make your way back to his bedroom and crawl back into the bed. He turns out the lights and turns on the tv selecting ‘Baby Driver’. He climbs in next to you and pulls the duvet cover up. He pulls you into his side and you rest your head on his now bare chest. 

You must have dozed off, because the room is now pitch black and you can hear Jake’s deep breathing next to you. Perfectly content in the moment you snuggle back into his side and close your eyes once more knowing you won’t get to do this for a week.

When the morning comes around, Josh is pounding on the bedroom door. 

“JAKE! Time to get up dude…” he calls in a frustrated voice.

“Ugh, I know he’s my twin, but i’m gonna do it this time. I'm gonna kill him. I swear I will…” Jake groans with a tired voice. You roll towards him and kiss his cheek.

“I need to go, so you can get to the airport on time.” You say.

“No, not yet…” he begs.

“Jake, if I stay you’ll be late…” You reply.

“Just a few more minutes…” He says rolling towards you, kissing you softly on the lips. 

You grab his wrists on your face and kiss him back, silently telling him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. 

His hand snakes up under your shirt, resting when it meets your breast. His lips connect with the soft skin of your throat and place wet kisses up and down the goosebumped skin.

Your hand smoothes his hair out of his face and you ask, “one more time before you go?”

“God I was hoping you’d ask.” He says pulling your sweatpants off before his own follow. He rolls over and grabs a condom from his side table and slides it on his impossibly hard morning wood.

Crawling to kneel between you he spreads your legs apart and pushes your shirt up revealing your tits. 

“So fucking gorgeous.” He says as he runs two fingers through your slit, collecting the wetness. He leans over you baring his weight on his right arm. With his left hind he lines himself up with your center and pushes into you. Feeling yourself tighten around him, you let out a small breath filled “Jake…”

His eyes shut as he takes in the sensation. He pulls out before pushing back in slightly farther and repeating the movement a few more times. You grab his other hand that is now resting next to your head, and gently place it on your throat. He stares at you, mouth hanging slightly open and raises his eye brows at you in question as he continues to thrust into you. You nod your head and he applies pressure to his palm and fingers, gripping your throat. As a moan leaves your lips he groans in response. 

“Fuck baby, I don’t know how long I’m gonna last. It's too good. Morning sex is my favorite.” He says.

With a bit more pressure on your throat your face begins to turn red and he lets up a bit.

“You are really pushing your limits huh, baby?” He asks with a deep thrust.

You nod your head and choke out, “harder Jake.”

Like gas to a flame, he begins to pound into you moving his pointer finger to rest inside of your open mouth.

You wrap your lips around it and begin to suck it, swirling your tongue around it and gently biting.

“Goddamn I’m gonna cum, you are such a hot fuck…” He says grunting.

A loud bang on the bedroom door interrupts him, “JAKE, we’ve got 10 minutes to be out this door and arriving at the airport!”

“JOSH, SO HELP ME GOD, IF YOU TOUCH THAT DOOR ONE MORE TIME, ILL END YOU…I WILL BE READY IN 10 MINUTES.” Jake yells.

Shaking his head, he mutters “fuck he’s annoying…”

He leans down and kisses you, his tongue meeting with yours swirling together as he pulls in and out of you. He grabs your leg and places it over his shoulder, with another deep thrust you look into his eyes, “Jake, I’m cumming, please don’t stop.” 

His eyes shut as he pumps deep into you with everything he has. You clench down around him and a scream tears out of your mouth, muffled by Jake’s hand that has come up quickly to cover it as he reaches his release at the same time. “Fuck…” he says out of breath.

Pulling out of you he takes your mouth with his once more biting your bottom lip as he pulls away.  He jumps up and quickly runs to the shower, turning it on, not waiting for it to get hot before he gets in. You stand up and make your way to the bathroom to clean yourself up and get dressed. 

A minute later he is rushing into the bedroom in a towel and digging through his pile of clothes to find something to wear. He pulls on a pair of jeans, a grey t-shirt and flannel. You sit on the end of the bed watching him rush around for another few minutes before he stops right in front of you, squatting down to meet your eyes. 

“Thanks for spending the day with me yesterday, and the night. I like it when you’re here. I wish I wasn't in such a rush.” He says kissing you gently.

He pulls away and runs to the closet to put on a pair of brown suede boots and runs his fingers through his hair in lieu of a brush. 

You get up and make your way to the door and he follows behind. Josh is waiting on the couch with his legs crossed, bobbing his foot impatiently. 

“If you two are quite finished, it's time to go Jacob.” He says in an annoyed curt voice.

Jake rolls his eyes and grabs his suitcase, making his way to Josh's Jeep. You throw your stuff into your car and watch them as the bicker at each other while loading their suitcases. Josh gets into the drivers side of the car and shuts the door. Jake walks over to you.

“See, if I had just left earlier, none of this would have happened…” you say laughing.

“Ahhh he’ll be fine, don’t worry about him. But we do have to go. I will text you.” He says.

You raise your eyebrows at him.

“I will this time. I promise.” He says giving you one last kiss, lips cold from the air. 

“I'll see you in a week darlin, keep practicing…” he says with a serious look, walking away and getting into the car. You get into yours and they pull out of the driveway, you following after, each of you going your separate ways. 

.

.

The first day after Jake left you practiced guitar for about 2 hours. You felt confident with how ‘Yellow’ was sounding and you knew he would too. The second day you practiced Wild Horses for a while focusing on the changing of chords, that Jake had so graciously written down for you to reference. That night you got a text from him for the first time since he had left. 

Jake: How is my student?

You: She’s been practicing, she wants her reward.

Jake: Send me a video? I want to see you.

You grab your guitar and set up your phone, hitting the record button. You begin to play the intro chords to ‘Wild Horses' and a loud snap takes you by surprise. You popped a guitar string. You send it.

You: Well… I guess maybe I’m not getting that reward. 

Your phone rings immediately with Jake’s contact showing up.

“Hello?” You answer.

“Hey darlin… are you okay? It didn’t getcha in the face did it?” He asks.

“No! I didn’t even really know what happened, just… popped.” You reply.

“Good, do you have extra strings? Those older guitars are bad about that.” He says.

“No, I didn’t think I would need them for a while.” You reply.

“Ah, I was going to walk you through changing it but I guess that won’t work.” He says with a pondering voice.

“See I told you I was going to fall behind when you went out of town…” you say laughing.

“Actually, I have an idea…Just go to the house and grab the one you’ve been using there.” He says. 

“Go to your house? Take yours? I don’t know Jake…” you reply.

“Don’t you want your reward?” He asks devilishly.

“I do… but how will I get in? Wont that be weird for you or Josh?” You ask.

“Hold on, i’ll ask him.” You hear the mouthpiece go muffled and the garbled voices of the two of them talking.  “Alright, he’s cool with it…”

“Are you sure Jake?” You ask.

“I am.” He replies. “Call me when you get to the house.”

“Okay, thanks Jake. I owe you.” You say.

“Bye sugar talk soon.” He says hanging up the call.

About an hour later you are pulling into the drive way at their house. Its dark and cold out, a light drizzle of rain misting through. You pick up your phone, hitting Jake’s contact and letting the number ring though. 

“Hey, are you there?” He asks.

“Hi, yep I am here. It’s raining now of course."

“Well, luckily our deadbolt is electronic, I can unlock it for you and re-lock it when you leave.” He says.

You make your way onto the porch and see the keypad blinking, indicating something happening on his end of things. 

“Its blinking.” You say.

“Yep, give it a try. Should be open.” He says.

You push the door open and the house is dark, empty without the constant sound of music from the turntable. 

“Yeah it worked, I’m in.” You reply.

“Good, well I put everything back in the music room before we left. Just take the one you’ve been using and keep it until I can fix your string when I get back.” He says.

“Thanks Jake, I really owe you for this.” You say.

“Ah its nothing darlin, just want you to have something to play while I’m gone. I have to run, but text me when you’re ready to leave and i’ll re-lock the deadbolt. ” He says. 

“I will, thanks Jake.” You say sweetly.

“Of course, bye babe.” He hangs up.

You turn on the lamp in the living room and make your way to the music room. You see all the guitars neatly lining the wall, and find the one you have been using when you’re here. You remove it from its stand and sit down in the comfy leather chair in the corner, strumming the strings. It just doesn’t feel the same without Jake here. You grab the guitar and a case from the closet and walk to the living room. It’s so weird being in his house without him. You hear the rain picking up against the windows and know you need to hurry and get out of here before it gets worse. You turn off the music room light and shut the door, when you notice that a light is on down the hallway in Jake's bathroom. You linger probably a little longer than you should and for some reason you end up making your way over to his bed. You lay down on the fluffy cloud of blankets and pillows and are surrounded by the smell of him. Lightning crashes outside and you make the decision to wait it out and let it pass before you leave. You pull the fluffy duvet over you for warmth, the house cold while they are gone. You snuggle into Jake’s pillow breathing him in. Its dark and rainy and so relaxing. You pull your cellphone from your back pocket and scroll through social media and you fight sleep knowing you will be driving home shortly.

You startle awake and realize the room is brightly lit by sunlight and you panic. You accidentally fell asleep in his bed, for the entire night. You check your phone and see you have a missed call and two texts from Jake.

Jake: All good sugar? Been waiting to hear from you… 

Jake: Call me.

You immediately call him rapidly gathering your things.

“Hello?” He answers groggily.

“Jake I am soooooooo sorry!” You say. “It was raining so hard, I was just going to wait it out, but then there was a light on in your bathroom so I came to turn it off, and its so cold in the house, so I just laid down for one second and…” you continue. 

“But you’re okay?” He asks.

“What? Yeah I am okay…” you reply confused.

“Well I was waiting to hear from you and hours passed and I got a little nervous. I checked the outside camera and saw your car still in the driveway, so I just locked you in around midnight. I figured you just decided to stay.” He says.

“It was not part of the plan, and I’m so sorry, I feel horrible about it. It was an accident I swear.”

“If you miss me you can just say it darlin…” he says smugly.

“I mean, it was a little lonely in your bed last night…” you say playing into his game.

“Oh, so you slept in my bed, huh?” He asks.

“I did, right on your pillow too…” you reply.

“Miss me so much you sneak into my bed when I’m gone? Damn girl you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” He says. 

He definitely has a way of unintentionally stinging you with his words, sometimes. 

“No.” You lie.

“Liar.” He retorts quickly.

“I… It was an accident, I….” You stammer before he cuts you off.

“Relax, Im just fuckin with you. It’s cute you slept in my bed and for the record I’ve got it bad for you too.” He says, the shame instantly disappearing.

“Well, I’m about to head out right now, so lock the door in about 2 minutes.” You say.

“You got the guitar, right?” He asks.

“Yep, all packed up, ready to go.” You reply.

“Alright sugar, well text me later?” He asks.

“Sure.” You reply “Bye Jake.” 

“Bye shug.” He replies, end call ending. 

You shut the front door behind you and you hear the lock click the light flashes indicating that its locked. 

You make your way home with the guitar and kick yourself for being stupid enough to fall asleep at his house.

You: Made it home this time.

Jake: Too bad, I kind of liked thinking about you in my bed.

You: It’s not the same without you…

Jake: Few more days.

The next few days do go by fairly quickly between work and practicing the guitar in your free time. You talk to your family about coming home for Christmas in a few days and make a solid plan. You’re so excited, you haven’t seen them in months since you moved. You have been sending Jake videos daily, at his request. He has texted a few other times but you know he is busy. You are anxiously awaiting his return, ready to show him how much you have been practicing. The night before he is set to come you are up late wrapping Christmas presents for your family, and you hear your phone ringing in your purse. You dig around for it as it vibrates. Grabbing it, you smile when you see Jake’s name. 

“Hello?” You answer.

“Hi gorgeous.” He says. 

“Hi… it’s late? Thinking of me?” You ask smugly.

“Always. We get back tomorrow evening…” he says.

“I know, are you ready to come home?” You ask.

“Yeah I am, we will be home for a few days before we head home for Christmas.” He says.

“Yeah I was just talking to my family about coming home. Im excited to see them. What about you, are you excited to go see your parents?” You ask.

“Yeah, I like going home its nice to get away sometimes. Anyways, you’re going to come over tomorrow, right? I can fix your guitar?” He asks.

“I can? Is this you asking me?” You say sarcastically.

“I mean kinda, yeah. If you don’t wanna see me….” He leads.

“Oh stop it, Jake. You know I do.” You reply.

“Yeah, I wanna see you too. Need to see if you practiced. Time to make good on my promise beautiful, and I fully intend to.” He says seductively.

“But what if it sounds bad?” You ask in an innocent voice.

“Well, then….you might get in trouble. I mean, you did pop a string. That is pretty worthy of a punishment if you ask me…” he says.

“So I’ll either be rewarded or punished?” You ask.

“Or both sugar, yet to be decided.” He says firmly. “We get in around 7:00 so come over around 8:00? What do ya think?” He asks. 

“Sounds like a plan…” you reply.

“Goodnight…” he says.

“Night Jake.” You reply hanging up the phone and smiling knowing you will get to see him tomorrow.

The morning comes quickly, anxiety filling your chest as you pace around your bedroom waiting for the clock to move. You have kept yourself busy most of the day, cleaning and packing for your trip home in a few days. Your phone buzzes in your back pocket. 

Jake: Change of plans… pick me up at 7:20?

That’s in an hour…you rush to the bathroom to start getting ready, and you reply.

You: Sure, see you then.

You listen to your favorite playlist on the way to the airport, full of your favorite songs that you can scream at the top of your lungs. The ones that you know every word to. As your car pulls into the baggage claim pick up area, you pull into an empty space, and text Jake that you’re here waiting. He replies that he is waiting for his bag and will come find you.

A few minutes later you see the perfectly disheveled rockstar walking through the sliding glass doors. The anxiety making its presence known once again. You shove it down as you lock eyes through the car windshield and you both smile. He throws his suitcase in your trunk, and climbs into the passenger seat. 

“Miss me, doll?” He asks rubbing his fingertips up your arm. Goosebumps quickly trailing his fingers. 

“Maybe?” You say cheekily. 

“Thanks for picking me up, Josh is meeting up with someone for dinner and wouldn’t take me home first.” He says.

“I don’t mind…” you reply with a smirk.

“But that means we will have the whole house to ourselves for a bit.”He says.

“Oh, what makes you think I’m staying and not just dropping you off?” You ask playfully.

“The bag in the backseat. And your guitar case.” He replies laughing. “I also know you’re dying to sleep in my bed, could hardly go one night without….” He says with a smug grin.

“Hey, that was an accident!” You say as you pull out into traffic and he sits there smiling to himself. 

“I’m turning on music now so you can’t make fun of me anymore.” You state.

As you merge onto the interstate you hear the opening line to “All These Things That I’ve Done” by The Killers start to play and you dramatically start to sing along really putting on a performance for Jake.

“I wanna stand up, I wanna let go, you know, you know, no you don’t, you don’t. I wanna shine on in the hearts of men, I want a meaning from the back of my broken hand….”

Jake turns to you with a huge smile, encouraging you to keep going, so you do.

“You know you gotta help me out, yeah, oh don’t you put me on the back burner….”

Adding hand gestures elicits a giggle from the passenger seat.

“I love this song, I will play it one day, when I am good enough for an electric.” You say.

Jake nodding his head slowly with the beat, agreeing.

“You can play it for me…” You say.

“Maybe…” he replies shrugging his shoulders as you keep singing.

“Yeah, you know you gotta help me out, yeah, oh don’t you put me on the back burner, you’re gonna bring yourself down….”

As the last line of the song comes to a close you laugh at the fact that you just did that whole performance for him, which is usually reserved for your empty car only.

“Bravo!” He says laughing.

“I completely understand if you never speak to me again.” you say with a smile.

“Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” He says placing his hand on yours with a side smile.

You quietly sing along with a few more songs before you are pulling into his drive way. 

You help him collect his things and you grab his guitar you’ve been borrowing from your car and he unlocks his front door with the code. 

“Damn this house is cold, now I don’t blame you for getting in my bed.” He says jokingly.

“I told you!” You reply.

He rolls his suitcase to his bedroom, depositing his wallet and phone on his dresser. He turns on a lamp and pulls a hoodie out of his closet, throwing it your way. Its the same one you wore the first night you stayed here.

He walks over to the thermostat and turns the heat on. “I guess we are just going to have to find another way to get warm…”  He says running his tongue across his top teeth.

You approach him wrapping your arms around his neck, and his hands find your hips. He pulls you in closer, his lips bending to yours for a kiss stopping right before they touch “But….think we made a deal.” He whispers into your lips before spinning you around and pushing you towards the music room. 

“I see my guitar, Where is your guitar? He asks.

“In my car.” You reply.

“Ah, strike one beautiful, never leave your equipment in the car.” He says, smacking your ass. “Go get it. Quick.” He quips.

You rush out to your car in the cold and grab the case from the back seat. You bring it inside and shut the door behind you walking back into the music room. 

Jake takes it from your hands and open the case pulling out the wounded instrument. “Snapped your E huh?” He asks pulling a drawer open from his desk. He sorts through a few packages and selects one, opening it and pulling out a bundle of new strings. 

“Grab mine and show me what you’ve practiced.” He says curtly.

He begins taking all of the strings off of your guitar, and does it so quickly and efficiently you can tell he has done this hundreds of times. 

You start off with playing the first song he ever taught you, the one that has a name and words, but that he won’t tell you. You play through it quickly, Jake nodding his head in approval. 

“Yellow next shug” he says, halfway done with your strings.

As you play, you slip up at the end, the same part you have been struggling with.

“Mmm, that’s strike two, darlin. It’s not looking good…” he says devilishly. “Play it again, do it right.” He says.

You play it again focusing harder on that section and you get it right this time.

“Horses?” He asks. “I know you’ve only been playing it for a week so i’ll go easy on you.”

You play through the song perfectly, with no issues and you are wearing a beaming smile when it’s over. You place his guitar leaning up against the chair and shake out your hands. 

“Damn, good job darlin, I’m impressed. Maybe you do deserve that reward after all.” He says handing you your guitar with fresh new strings. “I’ll tune it later, just remind me…” he trails off. 

“So, what is my reward then? I did what you asked…” you say in a flirty tone.

“You did, and you will be rewarded for that shortly. But first let’s talk about your indiscretions…” he says in a darker voice grabbing your hand and pulling you to straddle his lap. “Firstly, snapping your guitar string? Tsk tsk. Do you think this is what I want to do when I come home from playing guitar all week, baby? That is your first strike. I want you to count with me.” He says, his hands resting on your thighs. 

"one?" you squeak out.

“Second, I am kind enough to offer you a guitar from my own personal home collection, grant you entry into my home and then you go MIA? That could have been dangerous, you know? For all I know you were robbing me blind half way across the country….only to find out you were sleeping in my bed without my permission…strike two.”  he says with a smirk, shaking his head. “Two.” You say, shyly, face growing crimson red. 

“Last, leaving your instrument in the car, in in this town? In these temperatures?…. I thought I taught you better than that. I should stop teaching you for that alone… strike three.” He finishes, hands migrating closer to the edge of your shirt.

“Three.” You say seductively, just wanting to feel him touch you.

“I can tell you want me to touch you darlin. You have that look in your eyes and I will. But not until we reconcile these matters.” He says removing his hands. “And I know just what I have in mind.”

He helps you up leading you back to his bedroom. The house is starting to warm up, so you remove the hoodie. 

“Keep going darlin, all of it.” He says pointing you up and down as he removes his shirt and his jeans.

You follow suit, stripping down to your bra and underwear. 

“I said all of it.” He demands and you comply.

“I’m cold, Jake.” You say.

“Don’t worry babe, not for much longer.” He says gesturing that you can get into his bed. 

You crawl in and pull the blankets over yourself trying to warm up. Jake is not too far behind you. He holds you for a minute, your bodies using each other for warmth almost reminding you of the first time you slept in this bed together.

He rubs his hand over your bare stomach and makes his way to your breasts, gently rubbing them feeling your hard nipples under his palms. Finally after what feels like weeks his lips take yours into a slow and gentle kiss, electricity pulsing through your veins once again. The calm before the storm. 

He pulls away “Are you ready for your punishment, darlin?” He asks.

You nod your head yes.

“Words, beautiful.” He says sternly.

“Yes, I’m ready.” You reply.

He pulls the duvet off both of you pushing it to the edge of the bed crawling between you legs and spreading them. 

“Remember, this is your punishment and you can scream as loud as you want, no one is coming to save you…” he says.

His fingers gently graze the outside of your slit feeling the warmth, before one finger slides down the center. 

“You are absolutely dripping for me baby, you really did miss me didn’t you?” He says smugly. 

His head lowers down to your core and his mouth makes the connection. A moan releasing from you at the gratification of his touch. As his tongue begins to swirl around your opening, his teeth begin to softly nip at your clit. Another scream leaving your lips. You feel a finger slide into you and then another, curling into your g spot. After not having him for a week, you feel your orgasm beginning to build quickly. “Jake, I’m getting close.” You moan. Just as you say it his mouth and fingers leave your body. “Not yet, darlin.” He says. Realization sets in, he's going to edge you as punishment.

“Jake, please.” You beg. He takes his boxers off and strokes himself as you watch. 

“God Jake, please, I want you so bad.” You beg.

“Keep begging darlin, Its not gonna get you anywhere but I love to hear my name outta that pretty mouth.” He replies.

He moves back to kneeling between your legs, his fingers returning to their place inside of you and his lips perfectly suctioning to your clit, you cry out “Please don’t stop please let me cum…” 

His lips detach from your clit and move to press wet kisses on your groin. His perfectly calloused fingers taking their place. Rubbing small circles repeatedly on the sensitive bundle of nerves you are so close to the edge. “Jake keep going… please don’t stop.” You cry out. He stops once again. A tear leaves your eye, “Jake, why!?” 

“Look at you, you’re so gorgeous with you perfect went cunt. Begging me to let you cum. Crying over it even. I think I just might let you.” He says.

He grabs a condom, and goes to open it but you stop him.

“No condom, I want you.” You say.

“Have to baby…” he says in a serious questioning voice.

“I have an IUD...” you reply. 

“And you’re just now telling me?” He asks, throwing the condom on the table.

“You never asked…” you reply, grabbing his dick. “Now fuck me. I want my reward.”

Placing his tip in your wet center, he pushes in. The warmth you feel from no barrier making it even more pleasurable than usual. 

“Jesus Christ, you feel even better like this…” He says slowly pulling out before pushing back in. He lifts your leg pushing your knee into your chest, granting him deeper access. A moan leaves your mouth as he begins to pound into you. “Jake, god, you feel so good inside of me.” You praise his efforts again and again as he hits that spot every single time. He pulls out of you and flips you over to your front, placing a pillow underneath your pelvis before re-entering you. This is a new position for you, the slight lift from the pillow causing him to slip right into that perfect spot. “Fuck, you’re so tight. God damn I am gonna cum so hard.” He grunts out between thrusts. 

“Jake, you’re so hot when you talk to me like that, please keep going...” You say as you continue to be pounded into from behind.

“You like it? You like it when I tell you that you’re a hot little fuck? You like it when I fuck this pussy so good like this?" he says.

He places his hands on your shoulders, and begins to pull you back to meet him on the upward thrust, your bodies slapping together echoing through the house. You hear his necklace gently tapping his chest with each movement. 

“Jake, I’m gonna cum, please don’t stop, please let me cum I want it so bad, I need it…” you beg.

“I’m gonna cum too baby, do you want me to pull out…” he asks urgently. 

“No Jake, cum inside me… please…” you reply

He hits your sweet spot once more and your orgasm is so intense from being edged all night that you scream into his pillow, tightening around him. The clenching of your walls around his dick sends him rippling through his own orgasm, his release spurting into you until he is panting and out of breath lying on your back. 

Pulling out of you, a little bit of his release comes with it, another groan of “fuck” leaving his mouth as he walks to the bathroom to get a towel.

“As much as I would love to just sit here and stare at this gorgeous ass of yours, we need to get cleaned up, Josh will probably be back soon." he says throwing you the towel.

You get up and make your way to the bathroom and run a shower, turning the water as warm as it will go. You step in and under the spray, the hot water warming up your cold skin. You close your eyes and let the water saturate your hair. When you open your eyes you are greeted with the sight of Jake leaning against the edge of the shower admiring you. 

“Coming in or you just wanna stand there?” You tease.

He smiles stepping into the spray. 

“Damn girl, giving satan a run for his money in here….” He says complaining about how hot the water is. You turn it down a bit and step over so he can get his hair wet. He is so gorgeous, you still aren’t sure how you were able to capture his attention that day. You watch the water droplets run down his neck, meeting his collarbone and running down his stomach before melding with the hair at his happy trail. 

“Hey” he says pulling you in to his chest. “You are doing so well, I am so proud of you. You get better every time I see you.You just have to keep practicing.” He says lovingly. 

You smile back at him, “Thanks Jake, I have a great teacher.” You say leaning in planting a wet, kiss on his lips, biting his lip. You step back, grabbing his body wash, lathering the gel all over your body, while staring right into his eyes. You run your hands slowly over your boobs making sure to exaggerate your movements.

“Do you want me to fuck you right here in this shower?” He asks playfully.

“Mmmm, maybe one day.” You reply.

You rinse your body off, and step out, leaving him under the spray. 

You grab a t-shirt and a pair of his sweatpants from the closet and brush through your hair with the brush in you keep in your purse and you sit cross legged on the end of the bed. 

He steps out of the bathroom in a towel, looking to his trusty chair of clothes, which is slowly depleting. He pulls out a shirt and sweat shorts, pulling them over his half dried body before running the towel through his hair. He hangs the towel in his bathroom and shuts the door.

“Night cap?” He asks and you nod your head yes, standing up from the bed and walking out the door. 

Jake pours you both a glass of whiskey and you sit on the couch, facing each other from opposite ends, legs stretched out twisted together. You talk about his trip, what you did while he was gone, and about Christmas plans.

He will be leaving the day after tomorrow to go home to Michigan, and you leave the day after that to go home to your family. You jump up to go to the bathroom, and you hear Josh walk through the door. 

“Hello, brother. Where is your girlfriend?” He says cheerfully hanging his coat on the hook, and placing his keys on the record table.

“She’s not my girlfriend.” He responds. You aren’t sure why, but that makes you sad a little. You know you’ve never talked about it, but you felt like things were close. Pretending you didn’t hear it you walk back to the couch and take the same place you were in.

“Hi Josh, glad you made it back okay!” You reply.

“That we did, having a little night cap? Care if I join?” He asks.

“Not at all!” You say.

Walking to the kitchen he pours himself a glass and joins you both in his chair by the couch.

“What did you guys do this evening?” He asks.

“Each other…” Jake says under his breath.

“Jake!” You kick him gently with your foot.

“Well, he restrung my guitar for me since I popped a string while you were gone, and we played a few songs.” You reply to his question.

He smiles at you and continues on telling you about his evening. 

“Jake was just telling me about Frankenmuth at Christmas time.” You say.

“Oh it’s beautiful, very picturesque, you’ll have to see it one day.” He says, receiving a glare from Jake. 

Wow his real feelings towards you are showing tonight, you aren’t sure how to take it so again you change the subject. 

“Have you bought everyone gifts already, or do you still have shopping to do?” You ask Josh.

“Surprisingly, I got a lot of shopping done in LA. What about you Jake?” he asks.

“I have one thing left to get and then I am done for the year.” He jokes.

“I finished and wrapped all of mine last week, so now I am just in relaxation mode until my trip.” You say confidently.

“Go girl!” Josh says laughing.

You continue to chat with each other for a while longer before Josh retires to his bedroom. 

“Jake I am tired too, do you want me to stay or go?” You ask.

“What kind of question is that…of course I want you to stay. Why would you ask that?” He asks.

“I don’t know I was getting weird vibes from you tonight after Josh got home.” You say.

“Oh, I’m sorry darlin, I didn’t mean to. Come on, let’s go to bed.” He says interlacing his fingers with yours, pulling you up from the couch and down the hallway. 

When you make it to his room he turns the lamp off and you both crawl into the inviting bed. 

“Which side did you sleep on the other night?” He asks.

“Yours.” You reply.

“Why?” He asks, pulling you into his side.

“Smelled like you. I missed you.” You say softly.

A kiss grazes the top of your head. “You’re perfect you know that?” He asks.

You snuggle into the side of his neck placing a soft kiss on the warm skin. 

“Can’t believe I only get you for another day before I have to leave again.” He says.

“Well, I’m sure you have family, friends, and others to keep you company while you’re there.” You reply into his chest. Your fingers trace the outlines of the design on his necklace.

“Others… what do you mean others?” He asks turning his head towards you.

“Well, girls from high school or wherever. Im sure they all fawn over you whenever you go home.” You say.

“Are you... jealous darlin?” He asks.

“No, I mean you said it your self, Im not your girlfriend, we are just…. whatever this is.” You say quietly.

“You heard that? Fuck, baby. No, listen. I want that. I do, I just haven’t asked you yet and I didn’t want to just assume. Don’t be jealous of those girls. Of anyone actually. All I think about is you. You’re here, no one else.” He says.

“Jake, I wasn’t trying to say… I didn’t mean that I… ugh I don’t know what i’m trying to say. I just really like you. I like this.” You reply.

“Then just say, yes.” He says. “I really like you too. Be my girlfriend?” He says.

“Are you sure you want that Jake?” You ask again.

“Of course I do, you’re gorgeous and smart, and soon you’re gonna kick my ass at guitar… You’re already with me all the time. Let’s make it official.” He says.

“Okay.” You say kissing his chest. 

He pulls you closer in to him, his leg wrapping around your waist and kisses you, deeply, then peppering your face with small kisses.

“I've wanted this for weeks.” He says.

“You’ve only known me for like, 3 weeks Jake.” You laugh.

“I know. I just knew.” He says kissing you again.

.

.

.

.

You and Jake spend next day together, you helping him pack to go home for Christmas, cooking with Josh and Sam and playing drinking games around the fireplace.

Jake left for Michigan, sad that you couldn’t join him, but the promise of next time lingering in the air. You leave tomorrow to head home to the snowy wonderland to see your family. 

You are at home watching White Christmas drinking hot chocolate under your favorite fluffy blanket and you hear a knock at your door opening it to see a delivery driver with a huge box. “Hi, I have a delivery…. Is this you?” He says showing you the signature pad.

“Yes that’s me? Who is this from?” You ask.

“Actually it doesn’t say, maybe there is a note inside?” He says, “Can you please sign here?” He asks.

You scribble your name on the electronic pen pad and he is gone in a flash. 

You pick up the long skinny box and drag it through the door. What in the world is this?

You grab your kitchen scissors and cut the tape, opening it up and pulling out the packing materials.

There is a card on top of the hard case. Opening the card the front of the card reads, ‘Carter Vintage Exchange’. The place you met Jake. Smiling you open the card, and inside it reads,

'You were never more beautiful than in this moment, and you were always good enough. ' 

Merry Christmas, Love Jake 

Unlocking the case you open it up to find a beautiful Olive green Fender Stratocaster with a red bow tied gently around the neck. An electric guitar, that he selected just for you. You think back to the other day when you told him that you wanted to get one when you were good enough and your heart swells as you read the card again. As you take it out of the case you see that there is a sheet of folder paper laying underneath it the guitar. Picking up the folded paper, you open air and you read the title. ‘All These Things That I’ve Done’ Official Tabs. 

He remembered.

.

.

.

.

[numerous-bees-in-a-skin-suit]

I wrote a very small snippet for my voltron rewrite!!!

Allura stood outside of the door that she knew so well, overwhelmed.

It has been 10,000 decapheobes for the universe, but for her, it had been less than a phoeb.

Another explosion shook the castle, and she picked up her pace, running faster. She could hear the footsteps of Coran behind her, and it reassured her to know that she wasn’t alone in this moment.

When she finally reached the doors to the med bay, she could hear the voice of her brother arguing with someone, but it stopped the moment she and Coran stepped through.

She wrung her hands together, looking at the door. She doesn’t know why it’s so hard to take that final step to enter, but she’s frozen in place.

Melchor turns to look at her, and he hides any signs of distress on his face. Allura knows he does this to reassure her, but she can’t fathom why he would try to hide it at a time like this.

“Allura-“ Melchor starts, but Allura cuts him off.

“Melchor, why did you tell me to come here? Is anyone injured?” She asked when she noticed two empty cryo-pods sticking out of the ground.

Her brother didn’t answer, hesitating and looking behind her to Coran.

Melchor rarely hesitated when speaking.

Something was wrong.

Melchor took a breath, and moved his eyes back to hers. “Allura, there seems to be an issue with some of the cryo-pods. They need to be fully operational for anyone who needs them. You and Coran know the pods much better than I do, so I called you here to take care of them.”

That’s…a rather odd thing to for him to summon her and Coran for so urgently. She looks back to Coran, who seems to be none the wiser to the strangeness of the situation.

It should be so simple to step through the door. But she can’t. She feels pathetic.

Allura inspects one of the pods, Coran doing the same to the one beside her. She tries to find any sign of anything wrong when a hand falls on her shoulder. She looks behind her to Melchor, who has an oddly determined on his face.

“Melchor, what- oh.” Allura is cut off when her brother brings her into a sudden hug. He holds her tightly, only making the strange feeling she’s had since she’s entered the med-bay stronger. She brings her arms up to return the embrace, and looks towards Coran who is watching them with a pained expression on his face.

She’s a princess, and a part of Voltron. A room shouldn’t be causing her so much distress, and yet here she is.

Before Allura can even ask Coran what’s wrong, another distant explosion sends a shockwave through the castle. Melchor breaks the embrace, hands on her shoulders and a determined look on his face, his eyes that are exactly like her own holding a deep pain.

“Allura, I hope that one day, you can forgive me for what I’m about to do.” She feels her heart drop, and she’s suddenly shoved backwards into the cryo-pod.

“Melchor, what are you doing?!” She goes to step out, but the glass of the pod comes up, effectively trapping her in.

She sees Melchor start pressing some buttons outside of the pod, and her eyes move towards Coran, who doesn’t seemed surprised at all.

It finally clicks.

She looks back to Melchor, and hits her hand against the glass. “Melchor! You can’t do this!”

Melchor looks at her, and she can feel the pod getting colder. She hits her fist against the pod.

“Please! Don’t do this!” Allura continues to hit the glass, trying desperately to break the glass even though she knows that it won’t break. She has to try.

Allura knows that he isn’t here anymore. Her and Coran are the last Alteans left, but somehow, it feels that if she doesn’t walk through the door, she can still pretend.

She feels her movements getting more sluggish as she watches Melchor guide Coran inside the other pod.

“Melchor!” She doesn’t want him to do this.

Melchor steps back once he’s done configuring Coran’s pod, and he looks at her again.

She can feel herself growing more and more sluggish, her vision fading, the cold bearing down on her now.

“Please, forgive me.”

Then, everything went black.

Allura steels herself, and walks through the door.

It’s just like it was 10,000 decaphoebs ago. All of Melchor’s things are left exactly as they were, his bed still unmade, his desk chair left at an odd angle. It looked as if he had simply gone out that morning, if you ignored the layers of dust that had built up in the room.

She walks towards Melchor’s desk, and she sees his small projector still on the desk. She picks it up, carefully blowing off the dust from it before activating it.

A picture of her and Melchor shows, and she immediately turns it off, closing her eyes and gripping the projector in her hands. She can’t bring herself to see it.

“How can it be that it’s been ten thousand decaphoebs since you’ve last walked the halls of this castle, yet for me it has barely been a phoeb since I last saw you?” Allura sits on Melchor’s unmade bed, looking at his room.

Allura looks down to where the projector is gripped in her hands, and feels a few tears rolling down her face.

“It’s so hard not having you here. You’ve always been a constant in my life, someone I could turn to. It feels so odd to walk the halls and not hear you joking with one of the guards, or to hear your footsteps when you would try to sneak up on me.” Allura huffs out a laugh, tears still rolling down her face.

“You never managed to sneak up on me, and every time you swore that you would get me next time.” She wipes some of the tears on her face, and continues.

“You would’ve loved the new paladins. They’re so brave, and there’s so much good within them. You would’ve gotten on very well with Lance. I can see so much of you in him. I can just imagine now the banter between the two of you. It would’ve been never ending.

“It’s almost painful for me to look at him at times, because I can hear your laugh echoing in his. I…I could’ve never thought that there would be a day where I would be without you, brother. You’ve always been in my life and now…” Allura closes her eyes and tries not to choke on the sob that’s trapped in her throat.

“Now I have to walk these halls alone, without you guiding me. I can’t even bury you. All I have to serve as your grave is your room, and dust serving as the flowers placed on it instead of juniberries.” She looks at the projector, and turns it on.

The smiling face of her brother as he poses beside her looks back at her, and the sob that had been trapped in her throat escapes.

[leadendeath]

got some unusual yet welcome new followers recently (i usually only get a new one once every 6 months lol), so why not do one of these. frick it.

my phone has, for a couple of weeks, started doing the “SPICY BATTERY” thing i suspect, and it’s going from fully charged to just going dead in minutes… take a look!

D: ​the battery problem literally popped up overnight i looked at my phone and went “HUH?! oh no… i recognise that look…”

i have a quote of £30 to get a new battery so would like to raise that much :> i’ve had it done before on a different phone years ago- it’s no fuss doesn’t take long and not that expensive which is the good part

so i'm gonna do a little PWYW (pay what you want) drawing of ur character. your fav, your oc, sona, anybody. (just probably not irl people as it makes my "I MUST GET A PERFECT LIKENESS FIRST TRY" perfectionism problem go into overdrive lol, won't definitely rule it out tho) Show Me Your Guys. Please have a ref ready or a description, we can discuss what you want as thoroughly as needed, no problem :)

art only blog's here

Payment will be through k-f (strongly preferred) or p.p, 🔗:

also I'm a traditional artist, so i can mail it to you for an extra small cost if you'd like! : D

No slots- first come first served. can get it done within a week or sooner most likely, im very busy with boring irl stuff rn but should be able to draw!

edit, and something i need to be extremely clear about: DON’T send anything unless you have something for me to draw. i’m serious, i can’t stand getting contributions for nothing in return to yourself, the person who’s contributing. it’s just a personal standard i have for myself. YOU’RE NOT GETTING AWAY WITHOUT SOMETHING IN RETURN!! I INSIST!!!! >:)