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lamentationsofalonelypotato · 3 months ago

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Chapter 1: The Proposal

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader / Billy Butcher x f!reader

Prompt: "I find him very attractive." /"I'm standing right here"/ "I know."

Requested By: @angrydragon90

Tropes: Fake Dating, Pining.

Summary:When you first joined Butcher's team the last thing you expected was to develop a crush on him, but after two years of pining, you get a proposition from the last person you'd expect to care. This is Chapter 1 of my Promise Not To Fall In Love With Me Series!

Word Count: 5K

Warnings: I'm gonna label this 18+ just in case (I don't really think it is). Some cursing, Sexual innuendo, References to sex, Over glorification of a man's shirtless body (I'm not complaining) Reader is a little anxious/anxiety/socially awkward? Drug use/Drinking (Soldier Boy), Soldier Boy being Soldier Boy (He's a warning, we all know it and somehow still love him for it).

Note:This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Prompt Celebration Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: This is the third fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the incredible @angrydragon90 💗 Had to do something with a little bit of Valentine's Day spirit, but I'm going to be honest, this one turned into something that I didn't expect... let me know what y'all think. I also was thinking about @zepskies fic As Tradition Dictates for the more *ahem* gratuitous descriptions of Butcher 😉

Butcher’s muscles rippled over his bare chest and broad shoulders with every swing of the mighty axe down to the earth. Each strike of the axe against wood sent chips of bark flickering in the air around him like sparks. Sweat rolled down his sun kissed skin curving in the dips of his muscular torso, along the tensing muscles of his back, and through the dusting of hair on his torso, before disappearing into the waistband of the dark jeans hung low on his hips.

Heat kisses your cheeks and darkens the skin the longer you watch him and you bite your lip hard to keep the appreciative sigh of the scene in front of you at bay. But it does little to stop your eyes which rove over the rugged man chopping wood.

No man his age should look that good.

Butcher props one of his feet up on the tree stump he’s been using as a table oblivious to your attention, shouldering the axe for a moment to glance at the stack of firewood he’d chopped, looking like a mighty warrior surveying his lands.

Your mind starts to slip into a fantasy of a shirtless Butcher riding horseback across a desolate plain, his dark hair long, and a sword strapped to his saddle commanding a group of riders behind him to his every whim. Before scooping you up onto his saddle to ride with him, his strong arm wrapped around your waist, and his face buried in the soft skin of your neck, his rough whisper in your ear a grating caress as he-

You clear your throat, cheeks darkening crimson, and take in a shaky breath to dissipate the daydream that usually starred in several of your fantasies. The same ones that probably came from the romantasy book that you’d brought along on this trip and were too embarrassed to read when anyone else was awake.

He raises a hand to wipe the sweat from his brow, shuffling it back through his hair that turns a chestnut brown in the light of the setting sun that flickered through the thick forest surrounding the small cabin you were all staying in.

Oh to be a drop of sweat.

You think mournfully, taking a long sip of your lemonade out of a brightly colored bendy straw, the same lemonade that you’d made in hopes of enticing Butcher over for a break.

It had worked, but only for twenty seconds.

Twenty glorious seconds that you got to bask in Butcher’s presence so close that you could smell the familiar cologne and the scent of sweat clinging to his skin while he drank the lemonade and you tried not to stare at his bare chest for too long. You hoped that Butcher thought the flush on your cheeks had everything to do with the heat and nothing to do with all the things you were imagining him doing to you.

And then there had been an additional two seconds when Butcher smiled at you and said “Thanks poppet” in the swoon worthy accent of his that made your knees weak before he sauntered back over to the woodpile and you watched him go shamelessly.

Hughie says something to Butcher you can’t hear, but it makes Butcher laugh. He throws his head back with a wide grin that makes you sigh to yourself again, hands tensing where they sit poised over the tangle of wires in your lap.

You were supposed to be working on a new gadget to help grapple up buildings, one that you and Frenchie had designed together, but you were distracted by Butcher.

You were always distracted by him.

It had been three days since Butcher, Soldier Boy, Hughie, and you arrived at the cabin in the middle of nowhere after a mission went wrong. The specifics weren’t important, let’s just say that there was a miscommunication and what the four of you thought was a supe who could turn into a single locust, was actually able to turn into a swarm of locust so thick you couldn’t see an inch in front of your face.

You had a sneaking suspicion that MM and Frenchie had something to do with the miscommunication, given how eager they had been to stay behind at headquarters and do paperwork, and the secretive smiles they had shared at the briefing before your team left.

But needless to say, none of you had been eager to live through a reenactment of the eighth plague and all decided to lay low to consider your options, while hoping the locust supe didn’t decimate all of the corn in the midwest.

You shudder remembering the crawl of the scratchy legs along your skin, the flapping of millions of wings like the beat of a drum, the crunch of locusts underfoot, and the low pitched hum of the swarm that vibrated so loud it made you feel your body shaking from the inside out.

At this point I would have taken a swarm of guinea pigs.

The cabin wasn’t the worst place you’d stayed at in all the time you’d worked with Butcher. There was running water and several rooms inside including two bedrooms with lumpy pillows and mattresses with creaking springs, a living room with a sagging floral couch, and a threadbare kitchen with dusty cabinets and doors that fell off whenever someone tried to open one.

Outside the cabin there was a small patch of wildflowers that fluttered in the strong wind that blew from the East, an overgrown garden where tomato plants, potatoes, and herbs grew without care, and a small front yard that was more of a grassy clearing.

Sure the cabin had it’s quirks, but the real problem was that the four of you were trapped here in the middle of summer with a generator that only did so much for electricity, but had no air conditioning whatsoever, which meant it was cooler to sit outside on the porch than inside the sweltering cabin.

Overall, it had been three days of nothing, but listening to Soldier Boy bitch about the lack of extracurricular activities, three days of nothing but hearing the soft chuckle under Hughie’s breath when he texted Annie, and three days of nothing but you lusting after a man who was twice your age chopping wood.

Why was he chopping wood when it was so hot and none of you needed it… You had no idea, but you figured that the universe was finally throwing you a bone because you got to watch him do it.

The porch was cooler than sitting inside. There were two creaky rocking chairs that faced the overgrown “front yard” that was more of a clearing and the breeze did weave under the overhang of the roof to wick the sweat that gathered at the back of your neck, but the problem was, it was impossible for you to feel anything but warm, especially with what was unfolding in front of you.

The weather isn’t the only thing heating up.

You think to yourself watching Butcher lean down to pick up another piece of wood, admiring the way his worn dark jeans cup his muscular ass.

Fuck, I’m just as bad as Soldier Boy.

The truth was, you’d been crushing on Butcher for the better part of two years since the moment the two of you met on your first day when you’d tripped and dropped the giant pile of blueprints you were carrying to your desk and he was the only one who stopped to help you pick them up.

After Homelander had been stripped of his powers and exposed for the narcissistic psychotic freak he was, you’d started working at Supe Affairs, thinking that it was the perfect way for you to make a difference in a world reeling from the revelation. It had shaken quite a few people to know that the so-called heroes they looked up to were in fact just as crooked as a line drawn by an elephant on a tricycle.

But you liked your job… sometimes.

Sure, the pay sucked, the benefits were dismal and the hours were long, but you didn’t care about any of that. You felt like you were making a difference, using the engineering degree that your dad had insisted on for something other than trying to figure out how to build a bridge that withstood the force of a punch from someone as strong as Homelander.

And you hadn’t meant to develop a crush on William Butcher of all people, you swore that each day to yourself, but it happened without warning. He was nice to you, he always had your back on missions, and sometimes when you were working on something after hours on a mission- like the gadget in your lap- Butcher would sit with you while everyone else slept, nursing a glass of whatever it was he had, and he always made you feel like a valued member of the team.

Yes, he might be a little rough around the edges, but you liked that about him, that he didn’t pull punches, rather he told it like it was. It was refreshing in the world you lived in when everyone else was so afraid of offending someone that they just kept their mouths shut.

But the problem was that you were younger than him and a little inexperienced.

Well… a lot inexperienced. You’d never been in a relationship before, never really done anything before because there wasn’t time when you were in school getting your degree, not to mention you had spent the last two years imagining yourself in a relationship with a man who didn’t know you existed.

That might be a little harsh, he knew you existed, obviously, but rather he didn’t see you as anything more than a teammate or at least like a little sister. The nicknames that he called you were all some form of “kiddo” or “poppet.” Nothing like the things you’d read about men calling the women they loved in books or heard in movies.

The most experience you had in the realm of love and relationships was binge watching Sex and The City (you could quote it by heart), flipping through Cosmopolitan Magazine and other articles about love on the internet like they were opioids, and reading through romance novels reverently as if they held the secrets of the universe.

Not to mention the draft of the romance novel on your computer… but you’d go to the grave before anyone ever saw that, and if they did see it you’d take them with you.

Reading about relationships was easier than having one, at least that was what you told yourself to feel better. It also didn’t help that you’d seen two out of three sisters married with kids, with the third one getting married in a few weeks and you without even a shadow of a date for the wedding.

That meant you would be stuck at the awkward reject table again with your weird fourth cousin who always came on to you and tried to show you the rooster tattoo he had on his hip bone, your dad’s brother who cleaned his dentures in public after he ate and his wife who always asked you what you were “doing” with your life and curled her lip up in distaste no matter what you said, and the gaggle of their ungrateful children who were always sticky for some reason and chewed with their mouths open while spilling food all over the table like cavemen.

Sitting there with them made facing the locust supe more appealing.

But even with the pressure of trying to find someone, anyone to take, you couldn’t muster up the courage to tell Butcher how you felt about him.

Butcher glances over as if he can sense you and you immediately drop your eyes to the bundle of gears and wires in your lap pretending to fiddle with something that doesn’t need to be fixed.

Yes, because that’s the way I’m going to win him over, by making absolutely no eye contact. Perfect, masterful. What can go wrong?

What the books, magazines, tv shows, and movies didn’t prepare you for was how to find the courage to talk to someone of the opposite sex without feeling like your tongue was going to drop out of your mouth or like you were going to throw up.

You wait a few beats until you’re sure that he’s no longer looking at you before you raise your head to watch Butcher again.

Ben chuckles under his breath where he sits beside you in the other rocking chair, leaning back with one of his hands behind his head. His muscles tense in the black t-shirt as he adjusts his arm.

“What?” You ask him.

He exhales a long and obnoxious cloud of foul smelling smoke from the joint he has in his hand. “I think you’re a hypocrite.”

“And why is that?”

“Because you’re out here eye-fucking that asshole and you yell at me for staring at you.” He chuckles with a wide smirk as he takes another hit from the blunt.

How can he smoke that? It’s like 100 degrees out here!

“I am not!” You reply as loudly as you dare, glancing over to Butcher to make sure that he didn’t hear Ben’s comment, anxiety prickling along the back of your neck, but he’s still talking to Hughie about something. “And you don’t just stare at me! You come up behind me like some gremlin out of hell, with your big hands and-”

“We both know how much you like the attention doll.”

“I do not!” Your cheeks flare bright red.

The only downside to working on Butcher’s team was sitting directly next to you. When you found out that you’d be working with Soldier Boy, one of your dad’s favorite heroes, you were excited to meet him, and then you had and he turned into another giant disappointment. He was loud, brash, short-tempered, rude, and was always either ogling you, coming on to you, smoking something, or drinking.

You supposed it could be worse. You didn’t hate him, and you got along with him, but he was always around. The plus side was that Ben was the one of the only people you didn’t have a hard time talking to.

Yes, he was attractive, but his particular lifestyle didn’t appeal to you and for that reason whatever nerves you had about talking to attractive men of the opposite sex evaporated when it came to Ben.

It was unfortunate that such a skill was wasted on him of all people.

“I just-” You hesitate, eyes dropping back down to the grappling device in your lap, not sure why you’re about to admit this to Soldier Boy when you haven’t been able to admit it to anyone else.

Probably because I’m sick of singing the line from Frozen “conceal don’t feel” over and over in my head.

“I find him extremely attractive.” You mumble on a shaky breath.

“I’m sitting right here.” The frown in Ben’s voice is prominent, but it only makes you roll your eyes at him.

“I know.” Your eyebrows furrow together. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Why are you looking at him when you could have my full attention.” He leans forward, dark hair falling forward into his eyes, mouth pulling up in a confident smirk. "I mean there's nothing else to fucking do, might as well do me."

Your cheeks flush with his words, but you tilt your head to the side to study him, eyes slipping over his rugged features. Tracing over the neatly trimmed beard on his cheeks, the brilliant green eyes that seemed to glow, the way his muscular body filled out his black t-shirt and blue jeans, the soft dusting of freckles that contrasted the hardness of the man he was flecked over his skin, and his full lips that are curved up in a sinful smirk that would make even the strongest woman crumble.

But not you. Ben was… Ben. He was brash, obnoxious, handsy, impatient, and disrespectful.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Sure you didn’t work with him often, but you believed you had a pretty good grasp on the kind of person he was. You did, right?

“You’re not my type Benny.” Your eyes flick back to the project in your lap, moving your fingers deftly through the wires of the internal mechanism.

Ben recoils at the use of his nickname, but he recovers with a low chuckle. “Don’t call me that and I’m everybody's type.”

“Not mine. I don’t like supes.”

You weren’t sure if that was 100% true. You liked Kimiko. What you meant to say was that you didn’t like supes like him. Supes that used his powers without care for the consequences, Supes like Homelander who didn’t give a shit who got hurt as long as the job was done.

And you weren’t a supe, which meant that if you were with a supe there was always the possibility of you dying during sex or dying before you had sex in the first place. Your job also presented the possibility of you dying before you’d had sex, but you weren’t going to let that hold you back.

“But Butcher has-” Ben begins to say.

“Temporary powers. Not all the time.” You correct, unable to stop your eyes from drifting back over to where Butcher has begun to start swinging the axe again. “And look at him. Fuck, he’s over there like Paul Bunyan, rugged, chopping wood-” You sigh continuing to watch the man who probably has no idea you exist.

Ben rolls his eyes. “I could do that.”

You don’t pay Ben any attention, because Butcher is bending over again and you bite the inside of your cheek hard.

Ben sits there for another few beats watching you watch Butcher. The wind chimes that hang above your heads jingle merrily as the breeze picks up once more bringing the smell of the wild flowers and wet earth from the forest surrounding the cabin.

“You know I could help you.” Ben says slowly.

Your eyes flick back to Ben from Butcher in confusion. “Help me?”

What is he talking about? Does he think he can figure out how to fix the grapple gun? The other day he couldn’t figure out how to open the automatic trunk of a car and he just ripped the trunk door right off.

“Get him.” Ben nods his head in Butcher’s direction, but you’re still confused.

“How?”

And why? Why does Soldier Boy want to help me of all people?

“Well, I could help you make him jealous.” Ben leans towards you, his eyes sweeping once over you as he does, lingering too long on your chest and the edge of the jean shorts you were wearing.

“And how would you do that?”

“Well for starters you could come sit on my lap baby, see how you like it.” Ben winks. “Take me for a little ride.”

“Pass.” You roll your eyes.

“Oh I see you want to have a more advanced lesson.” He smiles, scooting his chair towards yours, a dull scrape of wood on wood, so now his knee is touching yours. “He could catch an earful of us tonight. I’d be happy to fuck you. It’d give me something to do.” Ben takes another hit of his joint, the smoke making you scrunch your nose in distaste, while he gives you an appreciative once over. “Fuck knows the only entertainment I’ve had for three fucking days is my hand and it would be good to have a nice tight-“

“No thanks.” You interrupt, face flushing when you imagine what he was about to say.

Ben stiffens in surprise. “What?”

“I’m good.” You shrug. “I’m gonna get him the old fashioned way.”

The same old fashioned way that I’ve been using for the past two years and had absolutely no results.

“And what way is that? Pining after him and hoping that one day he’ll finally notice you?” Ben scoffs. “I can see how well that’s working for you doll-face. How long have you been working with him?”

“Two years-”

“Fuck, two years?” Ben sputters. “You should just tell him that you want him to fuck you.”

“That won’t work.”

Ben’s face scrunches in confusion, the joint clasped in between his thumb and forefinger forgotten. “Why the hell not?”

“Because-” You glance down at your hands, thumb running along the jagged edge of the grappling hook slightly embarrassed. The last thing you wanted to tell Soldier Boy was that you were a virgin. The guy would mock you endlessly. “Because I’m younger than him and he’s-”

He’s experienced.

“So? You think that he hasn’t thought about fucking you?” Ben takes a long sip from the whiskey sitting beside his chair. “He’d be lucky to have a little piece like you.”

You blink in surprise. It was the closest to a compliment that Ben had ever given you. He did tend to compliment your figure whenever you were around, but you usually ignored that because he did that to everyone.

Truthfully, the thought of dating Ben didn’t appeal to you at all, but the thought of using him to make Butcher jealous was not a terrible one. And at this point, you didn’t have anything to lose.

Well… except THAT, but you wanted it to be special, at least that’s what you’d always told yourself.

You sigh, a little frustrated, watching Butcher out of the corner of your eye swing the axe in a glorious arch to the earth. You weren’t sure how to get Butcher’s attention. You’d tried the usual things…

Leaving the room as soon as he walked in to avoid a conversation.

Gone completely mute when he asked you a question.

Pretended you didn’t see him whenever he walked into a room.

Tried to bring him coffee, but then chickened out and drank his and yours and then immediately had to go to the bathroom to avoid shitting your pants while having heart palpitations.

Basically the social anxiety was working wonders on the office romance you wanted so badly.

“Ben?” You say tentatively, hands tightening on the contraption in your lap. At this rate you were never going to fix it and Butcher was going to have to figure out how to fly.

“Yes, gorgeous?” Ben raises an eyebrow. The blunt is between his lips now and he’s looking at you curiously.

“If we did pretend to be…” You swallow nervously.

“Fucking?” He leans forward eagerly, eyes twinkling with interest.

Well… I’ve never understood what it meant when someone wrote “his eyes darkened” until this very moment.

“Dating” You correct holding up a finger.

Does his mind always go to the gutter?

You remember everything you think you know about Ben.

Yes. Yes it does.

Ben leans back with a frown. “I don’t date.”

“Well it wouldn’t be real! You’d just be helping me make him jealous and it would be nice to have a little practice maybe…”

“Practice?” He looks confused. It wasn’t the first time he had in this conversation or within the last five minutes, but like hell you were about to admit without at least one drink to Soldier Boy the extent of your dating life.

“Yeah. I’m not the best at talking to people or-”

“You’re talking just fine right now.”

“You’re different.”

“Why is that?”

“Because you annoy me and I don’t know you’re easier to talk to for some reason!”

“Thanks.” Ben says dryly.

By now all the anxious energy has begun to pop and crackle against your skin at the thought of what the two of you could be doing and at the thought of you two actually pulling this off and you having a shot with Butcher. Not just a shot in hell, a real shot.

“But if you’re serious about helping me get him-“ You continue.

“I was.”

It was odd that he was the one who had suggested this in the first place, and even weirder that he didn’t seem hesitant at all to be doing this.

Maybe he thinks that we’re going to have sex. Your throat tightened at the thought, eyes widening, your nerve endings electrifying with anxiety. Oh holy fuck what if he thinks that if we do this he’ll get to do whatever he wants to me?

You clear your throat, heart beating just a little bit harder in your chest. The entire situation was making you regret the extra cup of coffee you had this morning. “What exactly would I have to do?” You don’t recognize your voice. It comes out a little more wobbly and just a little more tentative than it was.

You didn’t know what Ben was expecting you to do and you didn’t want to say yes, only for him to force you into sleeping with him like he’d suggested earlier, the most you'd thought the two of you would do is just make out a little-

Oh holy fuck then we’d have to kiss and I don’t know if I’m a good kisser and he’s definitely kissed more than one person not to mention he’s-

The thought made you flush to the roots of your hair.

Ben hesitates, eyeing you and you wonder if he can hear the deranged monologue inside your head or if he can hear just how hard your heart was beating. You hoped not.

“You wouldn’t have to do anything, doll. I’m not going to force you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable.” There’s something genuine in his eyes when he answers your question, something that you’d never noticed before.

Your mouth drops open in surprise.

It wasn’t that you believed that Ben was that kind of man, but rather that what he just said to you might have been the most caring thing that he’d ever uttered in front of you. He was the last person that you’d expect to care about someone being uncomfortable or care if someone else was okay with everything that was happening in the bedroom.

Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do.

In all honesty you only knew the way Ben acted, you didn’t know anything about his life. The man kept his cards closer to his chest than a well-seasoned card player and his poker face, forget it. You couldn’t crack that combination even if you wanted to.

Everything else you'd heard about him was through the grapevine of gossip at work. None of it was first hand.

Ben sighs and shakes his head at you as if he’s a little annoyed with himself for saying that out loud. “But I still think it would be easier if you just told him that you wanted him to fuck you. Would’ve worked on me.”

“I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

And it was true. You could take down a target, diffuse a bomb in less than ten seconds with a thin mint and a bobby pin, but saying something out loud like that to something else made you feel nauseous.

Ben hesitates again and in his hesitation the anxiety and embarrassment starts to come soaring back into your chest.

You were asking Soldier Boy, Soldier Boy, to pretend to date you so Billy Butcher would fall in love with you.

Well kids, this must be what rock bottom feels like. I might as well just pray that the locusts come back to take me away.

“Fine.” Ben states.

“Really?” Your eyes widen.

He shrugs, but doesn’t answer.

“We’d have to have rules.” You blurt, and Ben makes a face.

“Rules? Never been too good with those, Sweetheart.”

“And I’d need you to promise that you wouldn’t-”

You lose your train of thought in the wind chimes that rattle over your head and the sound of Butcher’s laugh.

“Wouldn’t?” He arches an eyebrow.

“Lose control.”

Honestly, sometimes you were a little afraid of Ben. You’d never say that out loud or admit it, but he was stronger than Homelander.

You knew Ben's reputation around the office- heard the hushed whispers of the women in the break room who said he was the best fuck of their lives, heard the horror stories of what he did to his old team, and had seen first hand what his temper was like. You also knew about his powers and worried that Ben might have a little bit of a control problem or at the very least anger management issues.

“I’m not going to fucking hurt you if that’s what you think.” Ben growls, his eyes narrowing at your insinuation. “I’m not some fucking monster, doll.”

“I don’t think you’re a monster Ben.” You sigh. “I just- I don’t have powers and you’re kinda strong and I-.” You take a deep breath to steady your voice. “I don’t think that you’d hurt me on purpose. But-”

Ben’s hand comes out to touch your chin, tilting your gaze up to him and stopping the bicycle of babbling you were about to ride around the block. Your eyes widen slightly with the contact, you weren’t used to people touching you, certainly not like this.

Keep it together…

“I wouldn’t hurt you by accident either.” Ben’s green eyes are focused on yours, and you can see just a sliver of emotion behind them that you can’t identify. “But if we’re going to do this you gotta promise me one thing.”

“What?” Your voice comes out like a squeak.

“You’ve got to promise not to fall in love with me.” He sends you a saucy wink that makes you want to punch the strongest man on earth, instead you settle for pushing him back from you.

But you’re not prepared for the wave of disappointment you feel when he lets go of your chin.

“I’m not in any danger of that Benny. You’re not half as smooth as you think you are.” You start to lean back in your chair, but Ben reaches out to grab your wrist, his touch surprisingly gentle, the contact burning through your body, as he pulls you forward, so close you can smell his cologne. Somehow it's something that smells classic and modern at the same time, a hint of spice that tickles your nose and makes your throat tight.

His voice lowers into a purr that vibrates through his chest, his next words expelled on a warm breath that weaves through the air between the two of you.

“Sweetheart, you’re about to find out just how smooth I am.”

What have I gotten myself into?

A/N: Again, not what I was expecting, but I really love this one y'all and I probably laughed way too hard at bits when I was writing it.

Thank you so much for reading! Likes, Reblogs, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think! 😊 If you'd liked to be added to my taglist for this series please let me know!

Taglist

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies @waynes-multiverse

@jollyhunter

#jensen ackles #jackles #soldier boy #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x female reader #soldier boy fanfiction #soldier boy fic #jensen ackles soldier boy #the boys #the boys tv #the boys amazon #Billy Butcher x reader #Billy Butcher x you #karl urban #billy butcher #prompt celebration

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mossygirl333 · 7 months ago

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AN: Okay, first of all, I love your mind @machveil. We all know Service!Top!Simon is the best Simon and I love fluff so much. So here <3

TW/CW: mentions of children and some angst, cursing

You walked around the furniture store, practically mourning the loss of that good table. Yes, it was beautiful and you loved it, but half a goddamn million for it? Hell no.

Your husband trudged alongside you, his hand resting on the small of your back. "We can look tomorrow? See if any other stores have whatcha like?" He tilts his head and you shake yours no.

"But I liked that one..." You grumble, before snapping your eyes back to him. "Do not buy that table Simon Riley. It is way too expensive. We can get a new one but...not in the mood to go anywhere else."

He chuckles, shaking his eyes, a few strands of dirty blonde hair falling into his face. Gentle eyes settling onto you. "You know me too well."

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Your eyes flutter open to the sound of Simon pulling into the garage, stretching out your poor muscles you slip off the bed. Bare feet touching the cold hard floor as you padded silently to the stairs.

Rubbing your still sore hickey covered neck and pulling down Simon's giant t-shirt, which you used as an impromptu nightgown, you headed down the stairs.

he hasn't come in yet, which was odd, unless their were groceries which wouldn't make any sense..? Your hand reaches for the door and suddenly it swings open, startling you. Blocking the inside with his body, he stares down at you.

"Simon, honey, are you okay?" You try to peak into the garage. But he moves to block your gaze.

"Its a surprise. Will take a long time so you can't use the garage for a bit. I promise it's worth it hun."

You stare at him, slowly nodding as you raise a brow. "What is it?"

He huffs in amusement. "What does 'secret' mean ta ya sweetie?"

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Your husbands warm rough hand covered your eyes, your own feeling around so you didn't bump into anything. A giggle starts to bubble up in your chest. Down the steps carefully, his gentle voice murmuring in his ear.

"Okay...here we are. Ready?" You nod, his hand falling from your face. Eyes flutter open as you gaze upon a new table settled in the dining room.

"Oh...my God. You bought one?" You turn to meet him, raising a brow. "It's gorgeous but how expensive-"

"I made it." He cuts you off, his chest slightly puffed up in pride. A smile starting to bloom on his scarred lips. Your eyes soften and you turn back to the table.

"Really? Oh my...how long did this take you?" Your hands glide over the smooth wood, it was really beautiful.

"Couple months. Learned how to work with wood and made a few knickknacks for ya too."

You cover your mouth and look at him, trying not to cry. "Oh my God....this is so sweet baby." His lips brush underneath your eye, pecking against your cheek and nose before landing on your soft lips.

"Anything for you." He sticks his hand into his pocket, pulling out a tiny duck sculpture. "Thought-" He paused, a vulnerability settling between you. "Thought I could make our babe a few toys. If you ever wanted to have one."

It's not often Simon talks about children. A deep rooted fear of his father tangled in his perception of family, a sickening bile rising up when he thinks about being like that monster.

Letting you down. Letting your baby down. The thorns of his children digging into his soul, tangled up like ivy leafs, unrelenting and tightening. He tried to hide it, but that empty feeling inside throbbed at the prospect of you, giving up any wants of a family to make him happy.

But the truth was, when his mind wandered, during long missions and saferoom escapades, he imagined you with a bundle in your arms. A scrunched up chubby face sleeping nestled inside. Handing it to him. A little girl.

The hands who held weapons, now cradling new life. The stench of death and blood replaced with newborn smell and baby powder. The ringing of bombs, screams of the innocent, and gunfire, transformed into cries and giggles of someone so small exploring.

You stare up at him, gently cradling the figure in your hand, biting your lip. "Looks real good Si." You murmur, kissing his forehead. "I love you."

"I love you more."

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #ghost cod #cod #simon riley x you #mosses fluff

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aceecee · 30 days ago

Text

Insatiable - Chapter Six

TW for this chapter: some angst, reader displaying destructive behaviour just like with her ex-girlfriend, death, grieving or lack of it, themes of obsession and possessiveness

Don't worry, it's packed with a lot of fluff as well

AN: I will not apologise for my favouritism of Zayne.

WC: 6.2K

Masterlist

When the days are rough, he finds himself staring at the photo of the young girl. His eyes trained on her smile. The smile he failed to cherish too late.

The smile he’ll never see again.

He doesn’t really care much for birthdays.

But his family does. Many find it funny how such a stoic kid can belong to outgoing and extroverted parents. He wonders the same.

The party is in their backyard, his parents wanted something extravagant but his wishes won in the end. It was easy to pull the ‘it’s my birthday’ card, he doesn’t ask for much often so he gets what he wants on the rare occasions he does.

Banners are strung up everywhere. His mother’s work. She’s also put balloons everywhere and decorated everything. Despite his wishes she had gotten a bouncy castle. He felt he was too old for it but his classmates seemed to enjoy it. He wasn’t close with the people in his year level, he didn’t know how to be friends with them and they saw him as cold.

He doesn’t have to be a genius - though he is - to see that none of them want to be here. They give him strained smiles while their parents stand behind them, the reason as to why his classmates have been forced to attend. He almost feels bad for them.

They all disperse into their own groups after telling him a half-assed ‘Happy birthday’ and thrusting their gifts into his hand. He tosses the gifts to the pile, not interested in the contents. He’s more than happy to stay at the side, book in hand. It’s on the reading list for an upcoming subject and he likes to be prepared.

Besides, the actual people he wanted couldn’t make it. Caleb had a school trip and Mara was down with food poisoning. She had called him in tears, letting him know she couldn’t make it this morning with promises to make it up to him. Though a little disappointed, he wished her a well recovery and told her not to worry. That just left-

“Happy birthday, zayniee.”

You.

It left you.

You’re wearing a cute jumper, blue ombre in colour. He remembers when you had started knitting it. You’ve paired it with a black skirt and black tights. You’re wearing earrings in the shape of blue ribbons. You look cute. You’re smiling at him softly and there’s a rectangle box in your hands. It’s wrapped in brown paper with an ice blue ribbon and a card on the box. He’s intrigued.

You hand him the box and he takes it. Instead of tossing it like the rest, he keeps it on his lap.

You take the seat next to him, your legs don’t reach the floor so you settle for swinging them. “I’m sorry the others couldn’t make it. They felt bad.” He can’t imagine Caleb feeling sad for missing his birthday. He has no idea why the rascal didn’t like him. “It’s fine. It can’t be helped.” You just give another soft smile.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence as he continues reading his book.

“Oh, is that Monomania?”

He glances at you. “You’ve read it?”

“Yeah, I got bored one day. I liked it, the author did well balancing the themes of obsession and going too far but it also fell flat in many areas.”

He hums, an invitation to continue. “You want a small spoiler about the ending?” you ask. He turns to you and contemplates for a second before agreeing.

“You won’t like it.”

“Like what?”

“The ending.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s more of a fairytale ending than the one even I anticipated.”

“Is that what you think of me? Cold?”

“Not at all. But even you can’t deny that you can be a little…logical.”

“Hmm.”

Of course you end up being right when he finishes the book the next day, a happy ending was not needed for a book like this. It ruined his morning a little. His parents didn’t notice the subtle pout on his face.

His mother calls everyone over to cut the cake. It’s ice-themed. He doesn’t like it. He feels you lean in towards him, touching each other’s shoulders. “At least it’s not a carrot cake,” you comfort him.

At least it’s not a carrot cake, he repeats in his head. It’s weird how you always seemed to know the right thing to say. You seem to understand him a lot. He doesn’t know how to feel about it.

The both of you enjoy the cake together. Your love for sweets was the biggest thing you had in common.

After, it’s time to unwrap the gifts. He doesn’t mean to be unappreciative but it's clear his classmates don’t know him all too well. He’s left with unimaginative gifts like socks or simple clothing. He’ll just donate them.

A familiar brown wrapped box sits in front of him. He unconsciously saved it for last. He’s careful with unwrapping it, you’re watching him with anticipation and the last thing needed is for him to disappoint you with his reaction. The card on the box doesn’t say the stereotypical ‘Happy Birthday Zayne’ like the rest had.

You’ve given him a coupon instead. ‘Ask [Name] to make you whatever sweet you desire’ is on it. Towards the bottom are five punch holes. He’ll have to be careful with his decisions. Your sweets are on a whole other world on their own, he’ll have to savour them.

He removes the wrapping, it’s a vintage record player still in mint condition. You beam at the awed look in his eyes. There’s two vinyl records underneath. “They work, don’t worry. I wasn’t sure about your music taste so I picked at random. The shop I found had many more, I’ll take you there.”

He flashes you a small smile. “Thank you,” he says softly. He’s never mentioned liking music around you or even talked about record players but the gift screams him in a shocking way.

You stare at him frozen for a second. He doesn’t realise you’re flustered when you avoid eye contact.

Maybe birthdays aren’t so bad.

“I’m surprised [Name] isn’t with you. The two of you are always attached at the hip.” When leaving for the new cafe that had opened up, the last thing he expected to happen was meeting his childhood friend again.

Mara was taller now. A hunter, he thinks feeling annoyed. She has a heart condition and chose one of the most extraneous jobs. It’s just like her. He remembers how [Name] had supported her in this endeavor. Zayne had missed you all these years. To everyone’s surprise, the two of you had become fast friends. He doesn’t understand how a warm person like you sought friendship in him but he’s glad you did. He regrets not keeping in touch.

He’s taken aback at the tears that gather in Mara’s dark brown eyes at his question. She’s grown to be a beautiful woman but his heart remains unaffected. He tries to imagine what you look like now.

Did they fight? He brushes the thought off. There’s no way the two of you would end up not friends. No the only reason he can come with for a separation is-

His eyes widened.

No. No. No.

“She’s dead.”

Mara had shown him where your grave was, right next to your parents. She’s waiting in the car while he visits you.

In his mind you had achieved your dream of being a bakery owner and were happy. It’s what you deserved.

He’s disgusted in himself. He’d run away like a coward in his childhood. He missed the extra years with you the others got. While he was busy with med school and then becoming a doctor, you were dead. You’d been dead this whole time and he had no idea.

He’ll spend the next few years just thinking. Thinking of you, of everything about you he can commit to memory. The only place you exist is in the minds of those you’ve left behind. He’ll think of missed chances and regrets. Sometimes he allows himself to fall into the what ifs, imagining a future with you that would never come to pass. These moments were rare, he only indulged in them at his weakest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to your grave.

It’s all he can say.

You had decided it would be best to keep your wishes to disappear to yourself. The twins would never break their allegiance to Sylus, not that you ever wanted them to. No, in the N109 zone, the only person you can fully trust is you.

You had stayed up that night and came up with a mental checklist for escape.

1. Find your own place. Not in the N109 zone.

“No,” Sylus tells you. You’re standing before him in his office. He’s not even looking at you, too busy with the paperwork in front of him. His words bring a pout to your face.

[Why not?]

“Because I said so. You’re not getting your own place. You have everything you need right here. You’re not leaving.” You glare at him and a hint of amusement flickers in his eyes. You hate that he never takes you seriously. “End of discussion.”

Taking in a deep breath - to calm the need to strangle him, it doesn’t work - you reluctantly relent. Instead you ask for something else.

[Can I go visit my brother?]

It bruises your ego to ask for permission to do anything. You’re not a child, you’re nearly the age you were when you died the first time. But the N109 zone isn’t one you can just enter and leave when you want, unless you’re someone like Sylus.

Your words stop him, he pushes away from the work on his desk. His attention is now fixed on you, his gaze leaves you on edge. Nearly two years have been spent with him and you still have no idea how to read him. It's frustrating, being able to read people has always been your strong suit, it helped with the constant manipulation you would pull. You had been happy to do his bidding without question before and now you regret the amount of control he has on you.

“Why would I do that?” he crosses his arms.

[Because it’s my brother…?]

He narrows his eyes at you.

“Why would I do that?” he repeats.

[Because I just found out he’s alive and I want to see him. Not to meet him, I’ll watch from a distance. I just have to see him with my own eyes.] You give him a pleading look. He sighs and looks away, taking a few seconds to agree before looking at you again.

“Fine,” he reluctantly agrees. “But you know the ordeal by now. Do something for me in return.”

Ugh everything is always a business deal with him.

“Sit,” he commands, gesturing at the chairs in front of him. You do.

He takes the glasses off his face. A shame. He looked very sophisticated in them. “That doctor you mentioned, there’s still nothing on her,” every month the two of you would meet and he’d relay the information he had found out and in the last year, not even a sentence could be written down. It left the both of you frustrated.

[Do you think..]

“That we have a traitor amongst us? Yes I’m sure of it now,” he finishes the thought for you. There’s a tick in his jaw. You don’t blame him, moles are annoying to deal with normally. But here in the N109 zone finding one is like finding a needle in a haystack. Everyone is a mole here. Finding the right one will be hard.

“Don’t worry, I already have a trap settled for our little rat. We’ll find them.”

His words don’t comfort you. They meant he’d known about the mole for a while, at least long enough to come up with a plan. Before your mind can go on a tirade at your developing distaste for your boss, he interrupts you.

“Moving on, I’m sending you on your first mission.” You keep his stare. “After you come back from seeing your brother. Make sure to have no contact with anyone. No one can know you’re alive. Also remember to take your phone this time. Got it?”

Ah right. The phone he’d given you was rarely used. There was no point, all the people you communicated with lived under one roof and you all used Meph as a phone anyways.

You nod.

[Cross my heart and hope to die.]

He glares at you, not impressed.

That’s how you find yourself, staring at the mirror in your bathroom.

Sylus had given you three days to visit Ei.

The weather in Linkon will be cold so you make sure to dress up in a nice wool coat. You have a small bag with you, there’s a few outfits in there and way too many pairs of undergarments. You’re not taking any chances. There’s a key to the hotel room Sylus had booked for you in there. The problem is the very large and very visible scar across your throat. You lift your head up a little to check it out. It’s still bright red. Your finger’s trail over it. The scar doesn’t feel as thick as it used to be but it’ll draw attention. You decide to take a scarf with you.

You still haven’t decided on how to feel about it. On one hand, it’s frustrating not being able to talk. It gets in the way of your everyday life. Even if you can sign now, many people don’t understand it so you have to carry a tablet around. Your torturers/killers had taken so much from you that it doesn’t hurt emotionally that they’ve taken your ability to talk as well. On the other hand, you’ve gotten used to not speaking. No longer do you remember what you sound like.

Ah, well. No point dwelling on it.

Sylus will show you how to leave the N109 zone. The way he does.

You feel like an imposter being back.

You had once built a life here but that’s been gone for a long time. You no longer have a place here.

First order of business is to visit the library, after you check into your hotel of course. The looks you receive all go ignored. You’re not humble about them, you’re aware of your beauty.

You peruse the selection of books but none of them interest you. Sylus already had a vast collection and you weren’t interested to add to them. You weren’t here for the books either. No, you were here for the computers.

You walk over to one and set your bag on the table. Sitting down, you turn it on. A book and a pen are retrieved from the bag. The purpose of your visit is to look for places available. A simple one bed will do. Hell, you’ll even take - you shudder at the thought - a studio. You browse through all the available properties, noting their addresses down.

Maybe if Sylus hadn’t proven time and time again he can’t be trusted then you would have accepted his ‘no’ without fighting. But, you have to look after yourself first. Besides, the small act of rebellion soothes you, you had grown a bit too complacent. He’ll find out, Sylus has too many ways of tracking you. The very phone he had given you which was currently in your bag for one. Mephisto for another, the city was loud and filled with people, everything is noisy so you have to really concentrate to hear the bird. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to be following you.

Second order of business is the graveyard, flagging down a taxi, you show the driver the address written on your book.

You walk by your own gravestone and you try your best not to register your parents’. You’re not ready. You stand before the gravestone you’re here for.

Caleb Xia.

He really died.

You hadn’t been there.

He was dead.

And you weren’t there.

Some friend you were. Your mind remains oddly blank as you stand in front of him. It’s not like you can even say anything to him. Not even the lies that easily roll off your tongue. You turn to leave.

Third order of business.

Akso Hospital.

Zayne doesn’t believe in ghosts.

Not when his coworkers tell each other stories of those that took their last breath in the hospital, now doomed to forever roam the grounds. Not when Mara would tell him “spooky” stories to try and freak him out (it never works, he has no idea why she hasn’t given up).

So then, why is there a ghost standing in front of him?

The woman standing before him looks just like you - a grown up version of you. The rational part of him tries to answer, it’s just a coincidence that they look similar. It’s just a coincidence that the lady is standing right in front of the hospital room where your brother currently resides.

Just a coincidence.

There’s no way you’re alive. There’s no way its you wearing that long black winter coat with the black scarf around your neck. The coat practically swallows the woman up, nothing about her body can be seen. It’s not you because you hated keeping your hair long. It’s not you because you'd never sport that dead emotionless look on your eyes. It’s not you because you loved sleeping and you would never have eye bags that huge.

It can’t be you.

As a doctor, he’s treated a variety of people, especially those who have experienced trauma. But his mind (heart) can’t accept the way you look. He never thought he would see you so broken. Just what have you gone through all these years?

The doctor in him is screaming. Yelling to stop standing there and fix you.

He watches silently, frozen, as you contemplate entering the room. Your hand remains on the door handle, the window in it showing you the view of your brother inside. Eiden hasn’t noticed you, he’s fast asleep. The image of his rest calms you down. It’s a good thing he can still sleep peacefully.

The ghost looks painfully human as she steps away from the door. You still haven’t made a single sound, even your steps are quiet. He sees you close your eyes for a few seconds, your hands come up to rub your arms, an effort to ground or comfort yourself. When they reopen you look more focused. You’ve made up your mind on something when you sharply turn and end up looking right at him.

He sees your eyes widen in shock. In realisation. He can no longer convince himself you’re a ghost or another woman, there’s no denying it. It’s you.

The two of you remain frozen where you stand. Neither party makes a move. Neither of you speak either.

You break the moment by running away.

He watches as you leave him again.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Zayne wasn’t supposed to be working but when is a doctor’s schedule reliable? You saw him listed as Eiden’s doctor and you weren’t even surprised. No matter how hard you try to stay away from the main cast, your fate seems to be thread right through theirs. Fuck. You should’ve made a plan just in case. When has anything in this horrible world gone right for you???

You try to look for a taxi. Hell you’ll even break into a car if you have to. Anything to get out of here.

Your mind is unreliable in moments of panic. Every thought is dramatised and the actions you end up taking go too far. You’ll come up with a simpler solution later but by then the damage will often be done leaving you with regrets.

Oh my god, I should just kill myself. Yup, that’ll fix it.

The last thing you wanted was to see Zayne again. He’ll tell everyone, you can’t have that.

I should just kill him then!

Before you can enact terrible crimes, your psychotic thoughts are thankfully halted at the hand on your shoulder.

You shove your shoulder away, stepping back until there’s a good distance between you. Zayne sees the fear in your eyes and his movements stop.

“It’s you,” he finally says in awe.

You can’t look him in the eyes, there’s too many things in there for you to decipher.

“[Name],” he calls out again. That gets your attention. It’s been so long since you’ve heard another say your name. Even after Sylus found out your real identity, he never acknowledged the name. As far as the world knows, [Name] is dead.

He tries to take a step towards you but your eyes are trained on him, when he notices the dread on your face, he stays in place.

“Please…just don’t leave,” he begs. It’s so uncharacteristic of him but you’ve always been weak to a pretty man begging.

“Just wait,” he checks his watch, “for thirty minutes. I get off work and we can talk. That’s it. I only want to talk.” The desperation in his voice freezes any hesitation in your mind. Memories rush in your head, the two of you had been so close once. He’d never done you wrong.

[Only if you promise you won’t tell anyone.] It’s a gamble whenever you sign, fifty percent in your favour, either the person knows the language or they don’t. But if there’s one person you’d think did know, it would be Zayne. Besides, your hands are far too shaky to write.

As expected he looks surprised at the movement of your hands. “Why are you…” he notices the ��don’t ask’ expression on your face. “Fine. I won’t tell anyone if you wait,” he clears his throat and gathers himself. His voice is clearer when he speaks again. “There’s a cafe down the street, wait for me there. It’s going to rain soon,” he hands you his credit card. His eyes show relief when you take it. His phone beeps and when he checks it you know he’s needed. You won’t let him choose between his responsibilities and you so you relent.

[I’ll be waiting.]

He gives you a small smile, there’s a thousand questions on his face that he doesn’t ask.

Zayne watches you through the glass of the cafe.

You’re sitting at a two-person table. There’s an empty coffee cup in front of you, its warmth long gone. You haven’t ordered any food which worries him. He’d never known you to give up free food.

All his previous attempts of envisioning you grown up fall spectacularly against the real deal. The lashes on your eyes that he wants to count individually. The blemishes on your face have him wanting to know how they got there. The long nails you have that seem almost inhuman have him intrigued. Every part of you tells a story he desperately wants to know but it’s a tale you’re not ready to divulge.

Maybe you’d rather have Mara around. Zayne isn’t the type of person people go to for comfort. He understands that. He can’t give you what you need.

But, fuck, he’s going to try. For you.

You take notice of him when he enters the cafe. Instead of going straight to you, he walks over to the counter. You watch him confused at the action until he returns with two plates. One has a strawberry shortcake and the other is a chocolate cherry tart. Your eyes lit up at the sweets and he suppressed the laugh bubbling in his throat. He notices your focus on the shortcake and places it in front of you.

None of you say anything, simply picking up your spoons and digging in. Then, like it's second nature, you pick your plate up and Zayne does the same, you put the shortcake in front of him and he gives you the tart. Neither of you can help the wide grins you bear when you realise what you both have done. An old memory resurfaces in your mind.

The five of you are currently on your way to the park, walking through the town. It’s a nice sunny day and none of you had anything going on so why not enjoy each other’s company?

Calen, Mara and Eiden are at the front, talking animatedly with each other. You and Zayne are walking behind silent.

“What do you think [Na-” Mara cuts her own words off when she looks back to you and realises that neither you or Zayne are there. The three of them retrace their steps and find the both of you by the bakery, your faces nearly pressed up against the glass.

“They’re at it again,” Caleb says, annoyed. “Why were we even surprised,” Eiden comments. Mara can’t help but watch on in jealousy. You were her friend, it’s her you should be doing stuff like this with.

“Those weren’t there last week,” you let Zayne know, two pairs of eyes trained at the batch of desserts displayed through the glass. “You’re right.” The two of you waste no time entering.

“C’mon,” Caleb grabs the wrists of the two people by his side, leading them away. “We’ll come back for them, they’re in their own world now.” At least he won’t have to share Mara with you today.

Zayne and you have developed a ritual of sorts. Since you’re both just children, you can’t buy all the sweets you’d like to. Each of you only carries enough money for a singular sweet on your person. So, you each order a different one and share. You order a sachertorte while he gets the mille-feuille.

The both of you sit down and only take two bites. The first to taste the desert and the second to confirm if it is actually good. You groan at the thick chocolate and moisture of the cake, “It’s really good.” Zayne has to be careful with his, it’s made of puff pastry and can easily crack. “The custard in this is perfect,” he lets you know. You swap your plates around and try the second one.

The lecture you’ll end up getting from your parents about having too many sweets is worth it.

The smiles don’t wear off as you reminisce.

There’s the smile he looked for in each passing person.

The both of you just stare into each other’s eyes, the words of the others in the shop blur out. The comfortable silence you often shared with him in your childhood returns, two pairs of eyes do all the talking. You break the contact by blinking and that breaks him out of his stupor.

“I..” his words trail off as he overthinks what he’s going to say. You try to give him a comforting smile.

“I won’t ask about what happened. I won’t ask about why you’re not speaking either just…” your breath hitches at the look he gives you, mixed with desperation and yearning. “Let me examine you. Then I’ll be at ease.”

Your gaze falls over the empty coffee cup as you consider his words. [I don’t do well with hospitals…or doctors really.]

“That’s fine. We can go to my place,” he negotiates.

You should say no. You should walk out of here and never come back to him, your mind screams at you.

But it’s Zayne. The same Zayne who had left when he hurt the girl he cared about, Mara, not able to deal causing pain to someone he loved. The same Zayne who became a cardiologist to try and make it up to her.

At your discomfort, a smile adorns his face. “I’m glad to see at least something hasn’t changed,” he muses.

You shoot him a confused look. He pauses, a look of contemplation in his eyes, wondering if he should continue his thought. He does.

“When we were kids you hated being taken care of, even by your family. Almost like you didn’t believe you deserved it,” he explained. “It didn’t stop you from caring for everyone else though.”

You didn’t think anyone noticed your guilt.

There’s a gentle flick to your forehead, snapping you out of your thoughts. You look up at him in awe. “Many are not fortunate to have those who cherish them, so stop running,” his voice is in a whisper, soothing as always.

Ironically, he speaks nearly the same words you had to Caleb. You were always the biggest hypocrite you’ve met.

[Okay.]

The ride to his place is silent.

True to his word, it starts to pour heavily. You worry for Mara when you can hear thunder. Is she still afraid of it? Your gaze is out the window, committing each image to memory. Fauna and flora were scarce in the N109 zone but they flourish here in Linkon city. It’s nice to see. Linkon city looks so alive compared to what you’ve become used to.

Zayne opens the door for you as you get out of the car. His house is just what one would expect of him. White and black are the primary colours. Everything is placed neatly and organised in a fitting manner. It still feels like a home, you can tell the place is cherished.

“Come to my office,” he leads you into a room. He gestures for you to sit at the chair by his desk and you do.

His hand reaches for your scarf. “I’m going to take this off now. Is that okay?” You nod and wait with bated breath as he works on removing it, gently pulling out any hair tangled in it. His gaze is like steel when he sees the scar. You stop breathing all together when his fingers trace over it before removing them completely, his hand clenched into a ball by his side. Even his anger is silent.

[It’s okay. It doesn’t hurt at all. I’ll speak again, don’t worry.] You don’t like seeing him like that. His eyes soften at your words. Only you would try and comfort him about your injury. He kneels before you, hands reaching your left one. He looks over the injury he had caused. He doesn’t have to speak for you to hear his thoughts. You pull your hand out of his.

[Not your fault.]

“How did you stop me that day?”

When you don’t make a move to sign, he sighs. Another secret…

“Neverm-”

[If I knew I would tell you. Truth is my body moved on its own that day. I haven’t done it since then.]

“Ah.”

You can’t help the giddiness as you look over the boy you used to know. He’s become a man now, he’s become the Zayne you used to squeal over. Part of you misses the chubbiness he had in his face but the other part appreciated the sharp look he has now. He’s grown even more taller, and his clothes do a bad job of hiding the muscles underneath. And - oh wow- his eyes are so beautiful. You could look at them all day and never be bored.

Due to his stoicism, many like to paint him as a cold and indifferent person. You yourself thought he’d be like that with you, that his kindness was only reserved for the MC. You had been proven wrong every step of the way. You know better now.

That unlike his evol, Zayne is warm. Not in the way of body temperature or even his outward personality. He was warm in the way he adores animals. In the unique way he shows his care. In his touch. In the way he’d always been careful to never hurt your feelings growing up. You could go on about him all day. None of these things were noticeable at a first meeting with him, maybe even the second but you’re glad he let you in so you could learn them.

You have no doubt that he’s an amazing doctor. His patients must feel so lucky knowing that their physician will advocate for them and has their back. There are only four people that restore your faith in humanity and he’s one of them.

Without thinking, your hand reaches out and cradles his face. He lets out a gasp at the contact before engulfing your hand with his and leaning his face into your hand further. His eyes close and the peaceful expression on his face does not help the erratic beating of your heart.

“I’ll make some tea. Would you like that?” He’s staring at you so earnestly as he kneels, your hands still touching. You lick your suddenly dry lips, all too aware of how his eyes follow the muscle. You nod. This was getting too intimate. He lets go of your hand and stands up. “I’ll be back,” he says.

You decide to survey his office while you wait. The chair you’re sitting on is comfortable. What catches your attention is the bookshelf mounted on the wall. You stand up and walk over to it. Your fingers trace over the spines.The books on it are mostly medical journals and none of them interest you. You stop before an item, one very familiar to you.

A record player.

You remember how frantically you had gone into every shop you came across, looking for a fitting gift. To your luck, you came across a shop with vintage goods. There had been many, in various colours but you thought Zayne would appreciate the dark wood one. The record player was small enough to carry in one’s arms. You picked out two music tracks to go with it. To your utter relief he had loved the gift.

The shop had become a regular place to go with Zayne. It had a variety of vinyl records as well but they were expensive. The two of you would save up for them one by one. You helped him amass quite a collection.

“You noticed it,” his words don’t surprise you. His steps in the kitchen and the noises of him preparing the tea were all clear to you, so was him making his way back. He’s holding a tray with two steaming cups on it. He sets it down on the desk and walks towards you.

[I can’t believe you still have it.] He shoots you an incredulous look. “Of course I did. I make sure to keep it in good condition as well.” He goes over to his desk, pulling out a drawer. The record in his hands is one you know very well. All the artists on these records were unknown to you and this record is no exception. Except for the fact that you ended up becoming a huge fan of the artist. It’s a classical melody. The notes are simple but are so hauntingly beautiful. It’s engraved into your heart.

[It’s our song.]

“Yes it is.”

He places the record onto the player. Familiar music begins playing. You close your eyes to take it in, your head bopping to the tune. Zayne watches as you do the same notion you had when he first played the record. It’s soothing that some old parts of you still remain.

When your eyes open, you stare in shock at his outstretched hand. His cheeks glow with a red hue.

“Indulge me.”

Please.

You stare at his palm.

What are you thinking, Zayne? She’s not ready for something like-

You place your hand in his.

He stares in awe at the flustered look you have. It’s him that’ll need a heart transplant if you keep this up.

Your fingers lace together and he uses the momentum to gently pull you closer. His other hand goes on your lower back while you keep yours on his upper arm. You push your face into his chest as you sway together, you can’t handle looking into his eyes. You dance for a while completely unaware of the turmoil in his mind.

You feel his face move closer to your head. He places a tender kiss to the side of your head. Everything you’ve been holding in seems to break. He holds you tighter when he feels you shake, the wet of your tears decorate his neck. His hand caresses your head over and over again. It’s comfort at its best.

“I’m here,” he whispers against your head. “Let it all out.” It kills him inside how much you seem to need this. How he can’t even hear your cries. It’s fine, he’ll take whatever you give him.

Later, Zayne carries you to his bed. You had cried in his arms for nearly an hour until you passed out from the exhaustion. He lowers you onto the bed, making sure to take the coat off. Pulling the duvet over you, he sits down by your side and examines your face. Your eyes were puffy from the tears but it looked like you really needed this.

As much as he doesn’t want to, he gets up to leave. His movement is stopped by a hand on his wrist. ‘Stay,’ you mouth at him. You push yourself to the other side of the bed, patting the spot you were previously on. He gets on and settles in. You give him a sleepy smile and doze off.

He doesn’t sleep.

Watching you is enough.

You should’ve left. You should’ve gotten into a car and drove off. You should not have stayed. Because you’ve given a very desperate man a taste of you and he’s not letting you go now.

Tag List: @serenity-loves-red @crimsonmarabou @reni502

211 notes · View notes

nanpecan · 8 months ago

Text

₊✩‧₊˚once more to see you˚₊✩‧₊ pt 2

{nanami x f!reader}

pt 1. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt 6.

˚₊✩‧₊summary: You're a manager at Jujutsu Kaisen and things got a little steamy with Nanami in the car after a mission. Now you're left wondering what's going to happen between you.

˚₊✩‧₊tags: nanami x fem!reader, slight angst, explicit smut (mdni) !!

˚₊✩‧₊ word count: 8.6k (I GOT CARRIED AWAY WRITING THIS OKAY)

˚₊✩‧₊author's note: i didn't expect to get so many of ya'll asking for a part 2 but thank you for the kind messages! this one is a bit longer and has mostly backstory stuff and angst in a stupid will they won't they sort of way. idk i think i was in a mood writing this. but i promise there is a little bit of something at the end *wink wink*

˚₊✩‧₊if chapter one was this Mitski song, chapter two is this one, iykyk

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You woke up with a start as the sound of a car door closing rang in your ears. You slowly opened your eyes and looked around confused. You sat up quickly, forgetting where you were for a minute. You groaned as you felt a sore sensation in your lower abdomen and you looked down. You noticed a tan suit jacket draped across your body as a makeshift blanket, covering your exposed chest and stomach. Your underwear was on, and you realized that the white fabric you were sitting on was the shirt you had been wearing.

You felt your face go hot as you started to think back over what had happened. You had slept with him. Your hands covered your cheeks as you felt them go red. You had really slept with him. Memories flashed in your mind, his body on yours, his hands on your body, the ungodly noises he let out- the ones you had let out.

You took a deep breath trying to control the blood rushing to your face and looked out the car window. You noticed Nanami had driven somewhere, but why? It was a pharmacy. One of the special pharmacies that partnered with the school to bypass prescriptions.

A man walked in front of the car and you jumped to cover yourself. He looked in, but he seemed to look past you. There was a small barrier. You sighed in relief. Thank god Nanami was a forward thinker.

You suddenly saw the pharmacy door swing open and Nanami walk out with a small white bag. His hair was down but pushed back, his glasses back on and his blue shirt untucked, probably to cover the stain you had left on his pants. You were a bit taken aback, he looked tastefully disheveled…handsome. He went up to the car and sat into the driver's seat. He looked back at you. “Ah, you’re awake.”

You nodded. “Where are we?”

“I stopped by to get you a couple of things. My apologies if I closed the car door too hard.” He reached over to the passenger's seat and grabbed a brown paper bag. He passed it over and you, a little confused, pulled out a T-shirt that said “I ❤️ Tokyo”.

“I apologize for tearing your blouse. If you send me your measurements I can get you a new one, for now-“ you started to put the shirt on and he went silent as he watched you. You pulled your head through the top and blushed as you noticed his gaze.

“Thank you.” He nodded and passed you a water bottle.

“I also got you some pain relief from the pharmacy, I’m afraid I might have been too rough on you.” He grimaced. “I shouldn’t have let myself get so carried away, I apologize.”

“No, no,” you waved your hands and gave him two thumbs up. “It was fine.” You dropped your hands, embarrassed for a moment, you had picked up the habit of doing that from Akari. That reminded you. “Have…you seen my phone?”

“Yes, Akari had been trying to reach you. I answered and let her know you were okay, just…feeling under the weather.” He passed you your phone and you unlocked it to check the 6 missed messages and 3 missed calls from Akari.

-SEX WHAT??

You frowned as you realized you had accidentally sent the unfinished text.

-hello?

Ten minutes later

-hey can you answer me I’m starting to get worried -Y/N I’m serious, please answer my calls -I’m going to call Nanami if you don’t pick up this next call

Two minutes later

-call me as back as soon as you can please

You frowned, what were you gonna tell her?

“I told her you were suddenly sick, so we stopped somewhere to rest.”

“Thank you.” You couldn’t figure out his tone. He was helping you out, but also covering for himself. Was he doing it out of respect, or…

“I also bought this for you.” He seemed nervous as he reached into the white bag. You looked at what he handed you. You stifled a laugh. It was an emergency contraceptive. “I’m not sure what you might already do, but just in case.” He stared at the box. “I hope this doesn’t offend you. I just figured, you’re young and wouldn’t want…well a surprise, if you will.” He looked back up at you. “Unless you do, I’m not trying to tell you what you should or shouldn’t do, it’s just in case… I thought I’d give you the choice, please don’t be influenced by what I’m saying… I’m sorry, I-“

You laughed at him and he shut up. “Don’t worry. You’re right, I don’t want a baby right now. I appreciate it.” You stared at the box. “You’re really charming when you’re flustered.” You looked up at him, but he had no reaction. He just nodded once. You looked back down, sort of disappointed.

You both began to speak at the same time and stopped. “Go ahead.” He said.

“Sorry, I was just going to say that I should drive you back. I can go ahead and drop you off at your place. I just need to drop off the vehicle and no one will question if I come back alone as long as you’ve already checked back in.”

He stared at your shirt. “I should have bought you a better shirt.”

You smiled and shook your head. “I have a lot of shirts like this, it’s perfect.” You quickly reached for your pants and struggled a little to put them back on. Nanami just watched. You finally pulled them up and tucked your shirt in a little. You looked back up at him, you caught yourself giving him a thumbs up and stopped. “It’s past 6 so Akari will be the only one to see me since everyone else will have gone home for the day. She won’t even think twice.” His brows moved like he was thinking of something. “Oh, thank you by the way..for cleaning me up.” You handed him back his suit jacket. You picked up his tie and his suspenders and put them in the brown bag. You attempted to pick up his blunt sword but hesitated to touch it. “The building was destroyed…what happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Nanami shrugged slightly. “It was only a Grade 2 curse. She could speak some, but she was sometimes incoherent.” He sighed, “It was a very tragic situation she was born from. So I figured I’d destroy the place.”

“He might not pay you.”

Nanami shook his head. “Mei Mei set up the mission, she’ll get her money no matter what.” He sighed. “Either way I don’t care.”

That’s right, Nanami was infamous for not caring about the outcome of missions. At least nothing past the defeat of the curse. He didn’t really care for the politics of defeating one curse but letting another go, or the idea of the clans deciding the codes sorcerers should follow.

“It’s late…” He said, breaking the silence.

“I should drive you back.” You started to move and winced a little.

“I’ll drive to my place and then you can take the car back, rest some more.”

“Thank you.” You smiled at him, but he just turned back to turn on the car.

You sat in silence all the way back, thinking. You looked at your phone and shot Akari a text.

-feeling better, I’m so sorry. dropping off nanami and then heading to the school.

You closed your eyes and sighed. You had just fucked the man you’d been dreaming about for months and now you were…unsatisfied? No, you had a great time. You snuck a glance at him through the rear view mirror. Did he not have a good time? He was being cold again. No, you were reading too much into it. The curse had influenced him to do it, it could have happened with anyone. Your stomach dropped at the realization.

It could have happened to anyone.

Akari was originally supposed to go, if she hadn’t offered you the chance this would be her. Would he have been more talkative with her? People seemed to trust her more, maybe he would be more open. Also, he had said that Mei Mei had set up the mission. Why was he the one that went instead? Had he volunteered? He’d been briefed about the mission so he knew what he’d be facing. He probably thought he wouldn’t be affected. You thought he wouldn’t be affected. But what if…you stopped yourself. You were reading way too much into it. There was no way to know if Nanami had volunteered just to sleep with Akari, but he had gotten you instead.

You forced yourself to stop thinking about it. You were hurting your own feelings over something you had no proof of. But the fact of the matter was, it could have been anyone driving him. You weren’t special to him. If anything, you gave in easily. A feeling of regret began to wash over you. He probably thought you were so stupid and easy. No, you told yourself, he isn’t like that. But there was no way to really know. The car slowed down as he pulled in front of a tall building.

“Would you like to come in?” Nanami asked.

“No, it’s getting late, you should get home and rest too. Today was…interesting.” You said with a smile. You couldn’t see his face as he was staring straight forward. His hands gripped the steering wheel hard, his knuckles turning white, before he let go and nodded. You looked away frustrated. What did that mean?

You both got out of the car and lingered outside. “Oh, your sword.” He opened the door and grabbed it easily off the car floor. You watched as his hands wrapped around the hilt and the veins in his arms popped. “Thank you for everything. I appreciate you covering for me with Akari, and thank you for thinking of my health.” You just looked at him, you couldn’t think of the best way to say goodbye.

“Thank you, for helping me with my…urges.”

You smiled. “It could have been anyone.” You muttered. You saw his brows furrow but before he could say anything else you bowed politely and got in the car.

You watched him stare at you from the mirror as you drove away. His hair unkempt, suit jacket draped over his arm holding the sword, and the brown paper bag in the other.

“Y/N!” Akari ran up to you and hugged you. “You had me worried to death. Are you feeling better? What happened?”

“I need to hurry before the buses stop running. I’ll just tell you later.”

Akari rolled her eyes. “I’ll give you a ride. Just tell me, are you okay?”

You nodded. “The mission was easy enough, I’m just embarrassed.”

“What got you sick? Was it the curse? I wouldn’t have sent you if I had known what it was, I’m so sorry.”

“You know?”

She nodded. “I looked up the report. A grade 2 sex curse. I'm so sorry.”

You shook your head. “Don’t worry it wasn’t the curse. I ate at the corner shop outside of my apartment cause I was running late, it was my own doing,” you lied.

“Y/N I told you not to eat there anymore, I got so sick last time I was there.” You nodded apologetic. “Then you were, like, actually sick, in front of Nanami. Oh my god, no wonder you’re embarrassed.”

“What did he say to you exactly?”

She smiled. “He picked up your phone on the last call before I was going to try him. And he assured me you were safe, just not feeling well.” She started laughing. “I asked him to send me evidence, because you can’t trust voices over the phone nowadays, you know, and he sent me this.” She pulled out her phone and showed you a selfie he took. Deadpanned as always. “Not an inch of emotion in his face. I’ve never seen him so ruffled up. His hair looks super messy, did the curse put up a fight?” You clenched your jaw as you felt your cheeks start to burn up, but tried to play it off.

“He said she could speak. And he demolished the place. The building owner was a perv so he decided to just tear the place apart.” You said quickly.

“He must’ve let all his frustrations out, damn.” She looked back up at you. “You look exhausted. Let me drive you home.”

You shook your head. “I can take the bus, I don’t want to bother you.” Akari could tell something was upsetting you and just nodded.

“Okay, but let me know when you get home.”

“Of course.”

The bus ride was long, but usually you liked the way it gave you time to detach from your work. Today however, you were frustrated that it gave you more time to overthink everything. You closed your eyes and forced yourself to focus on something other than Nanami.

What were you going to have for breakfast tomorrow? It was your day off. You could go to the bookstore you liked. Or get up early to go to the bakery across town. You were always too late to get your favorite sandwich for lunch, it sold out quickly, but you could tomorrow.

You got off the bus and went inside your building up to your apartment, you walked quickly past the napping security guard who liked to hit on you sometimes. You sighed as you read the sign taped to the elevator. Out of business. You walked up seven flights of stairs quickly and rushed into your apartment. You put down your backpack and went straight into the shower.

You plopped down on your couch with a sigh and grabbed your phone off of the coffee table. You opened up the message Akari had sent and you were met by the selfie Nanami had taken.

-thought you’d like this, personally I don’t get it, but I support you. rest up, hope you’re feeling better.

You smiled.

-thank you, ari. -let me know if nanami leaves any feedback for me

You stared at the message and decided to delete it.

-appreciate you as always.

You exited out of your messages and went to check your bank account. You were slightly surprised. It was more than you had thought. Only by a couple hundred but it was enough.

You opened up your messages again and tapped on your mother’s name.

-I had a bit left over this week, I’ll send it to you now. Hope you’re doing well.

You proceeded to send her money. You thought about calling but you doubt she would answer.

Your situation was a bit difficult. Growing up it had just been you, your sister, and your mother. Your sister was seven years younger than you, and you had always been close, although that hadn’t been the case for quite some time now.

When you were eight your mother had woken you up in the middle of the night, with your baby sister and a small duffel bag in tow. The three of you had run away from the tiny smoky apartment your father had stuffed your family in. After that you had never lived in an apartment or house for more than a year at a time, your mother was constantly changing jobs, Taking up new hobbies, falling for pyramid schemes, or falling prey to loan sharks. It had always been something or the other. She was usually gone for hours on end, struggling to make ends meet, leaving you and your sister alone for much of your childhood. You grew up quickly and had basically raised her. You took on the extra responsibility young, but you never resented your mother for it. She was also doing her best.

As you had gotten older you began to realize you weren’t a typical kid. You often saw things others didn’t, or sensed some sort of presence when nothing was there. The other kids thought you were creepy and left you alone. Everything escalated when you were 16.

At that point in your life your mom had found some solid footing while working at a small church next to an apartment you’d moved into. She finally seemed happy, she had found herself “reborn” under the light of a savior and the longer you lived with her the more you saw her change. You had never really talked to her about the things you saw, the creatures on peoples shoulders as they walked by or the pair of eyes you felt on you coming from dark corners. But one day after coming home you sensed a strange energy from inside the apartment and once you entered you were met with the scene of your mother praying over a young woman, with a man you recognized as the pastor. You looked above them and noticed a large grotesque creature hanging off of the ceiling swinging himself on his gangly arms.

You stared at it, mouth agape. You had seen all types of creatures, but never one this big. Its bulbous eyes suddenly met yours and its head rotated in curiosity. A wicked forked tongue flickered out of its mouth at you and you screamed. The thing lunged at you and you somehow managed to dodge it as it swung towards you. You began to throw objects at it.

“Y/N! What's going on?” Your mother screeched. The creature grumbled as the objects clattered against it, but it still made its way to you. Running out of objects to throw, you reached under the couch and pulled out a baseball bat. It jumped at you again and you swung the bat down hard onto the top of its head. There was an ugly crack and the thing dropped in front of you. Purple goo oozed out of its head wound and spilled onto the floor.

“What happened? What are you doing!” Your mother stared at you in horror and the priest began to chant something.

“You don’t see it?” You asked in shock. “You don’t see this thing?” You were panicking.

“What are you talking about, what thing?”

“This!” You swung your bat down again on the creature, also wanting to make sure it stayed down. You hit it one last time and it suddenly blew up, exploding all over the apartment.

No one could see anything. The pastor hurried out of the apartment with the young woman, your mother stared at you in horror before following them out.

Your mother didn’t come back to the apartment for two days. Nor did your sister.

The pastor called to let you know they were staying at the church. You had an uncomfortable conversation, where he heavily implied your mother wouldn’t be coming back as long as you were still there.

So you left.

You hadn’t seen your mother again since that day. It had been 8 years. You still tried to keep in contact with her, although it was mainly one sided. You would send updates on how you were doing, wish her well on holidays, birthdays and the like, but she would never respond. The only time she answered was when you had texted her about getting a job and being able to send her money. She almost immediately sent you her bank information. Your younger sister had social media that you followed to keep up with them. They had stayed in that apartment without you. It was the longest you’d seen your mother stay in one place. She was happy, and you didn’t want to take that from her.

Besides, it had all worked out in the end. Thanks to a bit of an incident, you had found yourself under the care of an older lady running a small bakery for around six months after you’d left. That was until you had been approached by someone and been initiated into Jujutsu Tech.

There were only two other students in your year at the school and they had been rather cold to you. Having come in late, and not knowing anything about the sorcery world prior to the curse in your apartment, you were significantly lacking in almost all areas concerning sorcery.

What you did have was stamina, you were an endless supply of energy and didn’t seem to tire as easily. That, if anything, helped you survive the training, the games, the curses, all of it.

You decided to become an assistant during your fourth year. One of the other students, Yuri, planned to join the Zenin clan's personal army, while the other planned on mentoring under a professor at the Kyoto school to increase his ranking after graduation. You on the other hand were not so confident in your abilities.

You had made great strides in progress after having started from scratch, but you never developed a specialty. You had discovered that you were able to use a small amount of RCT, after an incident where Yuri had smashed your face with a staff during what was supposed to be a friendly practice. While you covered your face in pain and tried not to panic as blood gushed from your top lip, you felt the tear and without thinking put your hands up to push the pieces of your lip back together. By the time you went to the medic they said there was not much they could do as you had already healed it. However, with your inexperience you had healed it to a scarred state. They had explained that the small boost of adrenaline from your injury had allowed you to concentrate enough to heal. However the overall consensus from the higher up was that they were not interested in training you any further on it, or rather you weren’t worth training.

So here you were, having worked as a manager for the past 5 years, and still only having very little cursed energy. The two years prior were spent training under different managers until you could be trusted on your own. Akari had trained with you but at a faster rate. After all, you were sort of an outsider.

Your phone pinged as you received a message, snapping you out from the memory.

-he just asked me for your number and I gave it to him, let me know if he says anything crazy or inappropriate. He may be higher on the power scale, but remember my roots.

You stared in shock at Akari’s message. He had your number…why would he want it? You put your phone down. If he texted you, you didn’t want to see it. You curled up on your couch and bit at your nails. What had you gotten yourself into. You should have refused his advances. He wasn’t in his right mind. You cursed at yourself again, you should have thought about the consequences, the aftermath. It was going to be so awkward. You sighed and stared up at the ceiling.

Take a breath, you told yourself. You hardly ever saw him. Today had been the first time in the two years since Nanami had been back in the sorcerer world, that you had actually been in close proximity to each other. Alone anyway. You had seen him in meetings, briefly, that’s how this stupid crush had started. You didn’t really have to interact with him and you were fine acting like nothing had happened, sure you’d be a little sad, but that’s probably what he would want too. You bit your nails nervously. What would you do if he did want to see you?

You shook your head. There was no use in wishful thinking. He hadn’t given you any signs that he was interested after all. Sure, he had invited you into his place but you felt like it was just a formality. He had just rocked your shit after all. You thought back to the way he gripped the steering wheel and the glimpse of confusion when you had said it could have been anyone. What was that? Frustration? Over what?

You sat up as you remembered the pharmacy bag. You walked over to your small kitchen and grabbed a glass of water.

Sitting back down on the couch you glanced at your phone nervously. You didn’t want to flip it over. You sighed and reached for it. It was late, if you didn’t answer it wouldn’t be that strange and at least you’d be able to think of a response if he had said anything.

You checked your screen. Nothing. Somehow that hurt you a little. You tossed your phone again and laid down on the couch, closing your eyes. Whatever. You couldn’t do anything about it. Whatever happened had happened, and whatever was to come would be a problem for the future, no use worrying about it now. You slowly felt sleep take over and you dozed off.

You awoke to the sound of your phone buzzing, and after looking around blindly and half asleep you found it. You pushed a button and held it up to your ear. “Hello?” Nothing. “Hello?” You looked at the screen and rolled your eyes. It was just your alarm. You groaned and let your phone clatter to the ground.

That’s right, you had planned to get up early to go to the bakery across the city. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath. You got up sorely and yawned. You picked up your phone again and hesitantly checked your messages. Nothing. You didn’t know if that was better or worse.

After stretching and getting ready for the day you headed to the bus stop to go across town. You were going to relax completely today. You weren’t going to think about what happened. You weren’t going to think about him. You weren’t going to think about the meeting tomorrow. Your smile dropped. You had a meeting tomorrow morning with all the staff. Usually you wouldn’t have to worry since the higher grade sorcerers rarely showed up to the weekly meetings; however, they had announced this meeting would be mandatory, there had been some incidents related to the investigation of a child's death. Nanami would most likely be there. You scrunched your face. No use stressing about it now. You didn’t know how he would react and again, it was no use worrying about it.

After getting off on your stop you headed over to the bakery. You had gotten there right before the lunch rush. You went inside and were greeted by the girl that worked there. You smiled back and picked up a sandwich. You thought about grabbing two, one now and one for tomorrow's lunch. You smiled and looked around for a different kind of sandwich. You grabbed a bottle of water and went up to the cash register.

“Oh these are two of my favorite sandwiches.” The girl said.

You smiled warmly at her. “I don’t know which one I want to eat first, I’m saving one for my lunch tomorrow.”

“Hmmm, tough decisions.” You nodded in agreement.

You heard the doorbell ring behind you as someone came in. “Hello, welcome-“ she stopped and stared for a bit before putting on a huge smile. “Oh hello Mr. Nanami! It’s great to see you today.”

You felt your face start to burn up and you froze. You stared down at the sandwiches. You could sense it was him. You took a deep breath. Relax, you told yourself. You turned around and immediately met his eyes. You smiled at him and bowed your head. He smiled back slightly and walked up to you.

“Good morning, Keiko.” Nanami said to the girl, there was no emotion in his voice. “Good morning y/n, how are you doing today?”

You stared at him for a bit before answering. “I’m doing good. How are you?” You felt like you were being a bit cold but you didn’t know what else to say. Your brain was not working.

He nodded and looked down at your purchase. He added a sandwich and silently pulled out his wallet, and passed his card to Keiko. You stared at his hand and felt your cheeks blush again.

“Thank you.” You said quietly. He grabbed the bag, thanking Keiko and walked over to a small table. You followed and sat down across from him. He pulled his sandwich out and handed you the bag. He pulled the newspaper he had tucked under his arm out and laid it on the table.

“Thank you for buying my lunch.” You repeated. He nodded. He was so awkward. Or were you the awkward one? You didn’t know what his intentions were and you were getting frustrated. “Did you want to talk about yesterday?”

His face suddenly had a slight blush although he didn’t move. “Only if you would like to.”

“I-“ you didn’t know what to say. You were silent. You felt him watching you behind his glasses. You gripped the bag and took a deep breath. You’d already fucked the man, why were you nervous? You looked back up at him with new resolve. “I have some questions.”

He nodded in approval. “I do as well.” You were surprised, what could he possibly be curious about?

“You go first.” You said.

Keiko was suddenly coming towards the table with a coffee in hand. She set it infront of Nanami. “Sorry to interrupt.” She said before stepping back to the counter.

Nanami took the cup and blew on it. You watched anxiously, your frustration slowly building up. After a sip he put the cup down. “You can use RCT, why are you working as an auxiliary manager?” You were a bit taken aback. That’s what he wanted to ask you? He put a finger up to his shirt collar and slowly pulled down to show you his neck. You remembered now the injury he had sustained by the curse yesterday.

“When did I..” you murmured to yourself. You had forgotten that you had intended to patch him up. You had passed out instead. “I can only use a small amount. It’s nothing really.”

“You’re wasting your potential,” he said sternly. “You could be helping people.”

“I would hardly say that. Like I said, I barely have any cursed energy. I don’t know how I do it until the injury is in front of me. Besides, no one would teach me how to use it.” Nanami took another sip of his coffee. “Is that the only thing you wanted to ask me?” You said annoyed. Nanami hesitated to put the cup down.

“Are you angry at me?” He caught you off guard again.

You frowned. “No, I don’t think I am.” You thought about how to express your feelings. “I think, I think I’m more frustrated with you.” He gave you an inquisitive look. “I don’t know how you feel about what we did. Regret? Indifference? I know you’re not the type to really show your hand, but I’m not that way. I need to know because I don’t want to give off the wrong impression.”

“And what is that?”

You sighed. “I’m just going to be honest with you. We’re adults aren’t we?” You looked up at him. “I have feelings for you.” You blushed but didn’t dare look away. “I’m confused by what you- what we did. I know you were under some sort of influence and I can’t help but feel guilty about everything. The more I think about it the more it eats me up, I don’t think the lines of consent were crystal clear…but I don’t know how you feel about it. I’ll apologize profusely if I have to. Unless you feel differently… Basically..I want to understand your feelings before I can let myself feel anything else.” He didn’t react. “Okay?” You felt your face burn up, but you were proud that you were able to say all that to him. Wait, did any of that even make sense? You thought to yourself.

He was silent as he finished his coffee. Your stomach grew more and more tense as you waited for his response.

“I apologize for any miscommunication.” He said finally. “I’m afraid I’m not the best at expressing myself either. I’m not sure what to make of what happened yesterday. I will relieve some of your worries and tell you I hold nothing against you. In fact I’m grateful you were able to help me.” He looked down at the empty cup. “But to be honest I don’t know where to go from here either. I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship… I don’t believe romantic attachments are smart given our line of work, I don’t take these things lightly.” You scoffed. You couldn’t help it. “That being said,” he continued. “I would like to know where you want to go from here. As you said we’re both adults, I think it would be in our best interest to hear what each other would like.”

You just stared at him. “What is it that you want then?” He was swinging the next step back at you but you didn’t want that. You wanted to hear it from him first.

“As I said I’m not interested in-“

“Then we’ll pretend like nothing happened.” You said sharply. You didn’t want to hear it again. It was like you thought. He didn’t want you. It was never about you. He did like Akari, you had been a mistake. He stared at you silently. You took a deep breath. You looked up at him and smiled. “Okay.” You sighed. “Glad we got through that. I’m fine with doing that. I will say I’m a little embarrassed, but now I can work on getting over it.” You looked at the bag with your two sandwiches. You quickly picked it up. “Thank you for lunch today. We’ll call it even. Don’t worry about my shirt, otherwise I’d start to think about the dry cleaning bill for your suit.” You got up from your seat hastily.

You bowed and started to walk away. He grabbed the bag to stop you. “You are angry with me.”

You looked back at him and couldn’t hide your frown. “I’m hurt.” You mumbled. His brows furrowed. “I don’t think I was ready to talk to you. I apologize for how I’ve been acting. I still need time to process everything.” You turned away from him. “I…I’ll see you tomorrow.” As you walked away you noticed Keiko bringing another coffee towards the table. You smiled at her as you exited. You hurried towards the bus stop and stopped. The next bus would be there in 25 minutes. He would see you standing there. You groaned and walked past your stop. You pulled out your phone and called Akari.

She picked up almost immediately. “Hey, Y/N how are you today?”

“I need a drink.”

“It’s 11 am, girl.”

“I’ll be pregaming until you’re off. 8 work for you, at our usual spot?”

“We have a meeting tomorrow morning.”

“Since when has that ever stopped you?”

“It’s stopped you before. What’s wrong?”

You sighed. “Get me drunk enough and I’ll tell you.”

Akari sighed sarcastically. “If you insist.”

“Cheers!” You clinked your mug with Akari’s and Ijichi who had also decided to join you. You were already five drinks ahead of them and were feeling great. Good enough that you were trying to convince Akari to join you in performing karaoke next.

“Ijichi, you go up there with me then.”

He shook his head. “I won’t be any good.”

“Y/N why don’t you just go on by yourself, put on a good show.”

“You know what, I totally should.” You said smiling from ear to ear. You stood up and clapped wildly for the people who were currently performing. Some others joined you and cheered them on. You loved this place. Akari and you had stumbled into it one night and the warm ambience and amazing food had made you regulars.

You made your way to the stage and took the mic. You waved confidently as people cheered you on. You motioned to the DJ to play the next song. You laughed and clapped when you saw it was one of your favorites.

Cue “Dress Down” by Kaoru Makimoto

You were smiling, dancing, having the time of your life, almost getting to the last chorus of the song when you noticed more people coming towards your table. You waved cheerfully as you noticed Shoko, Ijichi must’ve invited her. You moved around the stage and your heart stopped. Nanami was also sitting down. You looked at him and your eyes met. He paused before sitting down all the way. You stopped singing for a bit.

He sat and turned his head away, you turned away as well. You sucked your teeth and kept singing. You were having a good time. You smiled again thinking about how ironic it was that you had run into him twice on the day you didn’t want to see him.

You finished the song and bowed dramatically as people cheered and clapped. You handed the mic off to a girl dragging her boyfriend on stage and gave them a thumbs up.

“You’re quite energetic,” Shoko said to you as you sat down next to Akari.

“She’s 7 beers in, I’d be surprised if she wasn’t.” Akari said.

“Rough day?”

You smiled at Shoko and scrunched your face. “Rough life.”

“Cheers to that.” She raised her mug and everyone around raised theirs as well.

“Cheers!” You gulped down your drink and let your eyes go to Nanami who was silent. You smirked. “Who’s doing karaoke next? I can’t be the only one who does it tonight.”

“Ijichi san, you should go up there.” Shoko said after downing her entire beer.

Ijichi blushed, “Ah, I don’t think I’ll be any fun to watch.” You smiled and snuck a glance at Akari. It was so obvious he had a crush on her.

“Come on Ijichi, as long as you have fun it doesn’t matter.” You said playfully shoving him. “Or do a group performance.” You looked up at Nanami. “You and Nanami, now that I would love to see.” You laughed and Shoko smiled amused.

“Have you really had 7 drinks already?” Nanami asked.

You squinted your eyes at him and smiled. “Is that a challenge?” You chugged down the beer in front of you. “Ah, how refreshing. 8 now!”

“She’s very good at handling her drinks.” Akari said. “Well, beer anyways.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at her. “That was one time!” You laughed and waved down the waitress. “Let’s get another round. Is anyone else starving?”

The night went on and you and Shoko chatted up realizing you had a lot in common. You ended up doing two more karaoke songs. One with Akari and thanks to Shoko, you managed to convince Ijichi to go up with you. You and him performed like your life depended on it. And the crowd ate it up. You were smiling from ear to ear again. You weren’t gonna let Nanami make you upset in your own space. In fact, why were you even upset? Was it so bad that he wanted to pretend like nothing happened? If anything it made things easier. You weren’t exactly in any position to date, especially not someone higher up. You smiled and waved at Akari from the stage. She smiled and waved back and you noticed Nanami talking to her. Your smile faltered but you just took another drink before looking at Ijichi and singing again.

Good for them. You would do anything for Akari, so stepping aside for her to be with him wouldn’t be a problem. You only had a crush.

You finished up the song and headed back to the table. “-you’re making it obvious.” You caught the tail end of Shoko and Nanami’s conversation.

“Where did Akari go?” You asked.

“Bathroom.” Shoko said. “You should quit your day job and become an entertainer Y/N, the crowd loves you.”

You smiled. “The old timers here love me, I don’t think it would translate well outside.” You laughed. “Besides, they loved Ijichi too! If I do quit you have to join me in my new career.”

“We’d miss him terribly.” Shoko said. Ijichi blushed again and you laughed.

“Very true, cheers!” You raised your glass. You weren’t sure how many drinks you had downed at this point. “To Ijichi and everything he has to put up with.”

“Cheers!”

Akari came back to the table and plopped down next to you. “We should wrap up soon. We have a meeting in the morning.” You pouted. She gave you a look. “It’s almost 2 am.”

“Oh!” You said surprised. “You all let me drag you out for so long?” You stood up and bowed dramatically. “Thank you for indulging my night out.”

Shoko smiled. “Anytime, you’re a star.” She winked at you playfully.

“Shoko, marry me please.” you said clasping your hands together jokingly.

She laughed and finished her drink. “I’d have to get in line.” Nanami shot her a look and you laughed. “You should come out with us more. Ijichi, Nanami, Utahime, and I go out for drinks every other week or so.” She looked at Akari. “You too dear. The sane sorcerers have to stick together.”

Nanami excused himself to use the restroom. Shoko smirked once he was gone. “He’s going to try to pay the bill but I already got it.”

You looked at her shocked. You grabbed her hands. “Shoko, please marry me.” She laughed again.

“Where have you been all my life?” she said smiling.

“Want me to drive you home?” Akari asked you.

You nodded and slapped your hands together again this time bowing down to her. “Yes please.”

“Of course!” She said proudly.

“Let me run to the bathroom real quick.”

You excused yourself and headed towards the bathrooms in the back. You smiled as you passed people, you hated to admit it but you were a bit buzzed. You were a little extra friendly when you were like this. You laughed to yourself. It was fine as long as you didn’t run into- you saw him coming out of the bathroom and walking towards you. The hallway to the bathrooms was rather narrow. There was enough space for two people to stand side by side but not much. He looked straight ahead as if he wasn’t even going to acknowledge you. Oh well, you thought. You continued on merrily.

As you passed him you felt his hand brush past yours and felt him slightly tug on your sleeve. It was quick but you felt your heart flutter and you stopped.

“Nanami.” You said as you turned to look at him. He stopped but didn’t turn around. “Why did you do that?” He was silent, still not turning. You walked back towards him standing inches away. You quickly looked past him, ensuring no one was approaching. You grabbed his sleeve. “Is anyone coming?”

“No.” He said.

You sighed and dragged him into the bathroom.

You quickly locked the door behind you. The amount of times you had accidentally walked into a couple being intimate was astounding. He stood a couple of feet away from you and stared. You turned back to him and smiled. “I know what this looks like, but I just want to talk. Really.” You put your arms up to wave your hands. “I’m a little tipsy but if anything I have the words to say what I finally want to say. Let’s talk.” He stepped closer to you, closing the gap in an instant. “Oh fuck.” You said taken aback, he had pinned your back against the door.

“I don’t want to talk.” He said gruffly. Moving his lips closer to your ear.

“Obviously. I don’t think you said a single thing to me out there. Are you-“

“Are you really okay with forgetting what we did? It didn’t bother you? It didn’t leave an impression?”

“Now you have questions.” You couldn’t take him seriously. The alcohol was not helping. You looked up at him and smiled coyly. “You want the truth?” He just stared at you. You leaned your head closer to him and pressed your cheek to his so you could whisper in his ear. “You took my virginity.” You kissed his cheek as you pulled your face back. You looked at him and his face was red. You giggled and put your hands up to cup his face. “I couldn’t forget you if I tried.” He slowly moved his face closer and you leaned in to kiss him.

You both suddenly and passionately kissed each other, Nanami wrapping his hands around your body to pull you closer. He was almost as desperate as he had been in the car; tugging on your lips and rolling his tongue into yours. You winced as his glasses poked into your face and he quickly took them off. You stopped for a bit and smiled at him. “You’re beautiful.” You said giggling.

He furrowed his brows and moved forward to kiss you again. He pinned you back against the wall again and you hoisted yourself up by his shoulders to wrap your legs around his waist. He steadily rocked into you and you moaned as his bulge hit your sensitive clit. You grinded desperately back on him. You shuddered as you were already coming close and you moaned into his mouth. “Nanami, wait.” You removed your arms from his shoulders and lowered yourself. You slid down onto your knees and worked on his belt. You giggled to yourself, you were feeling bold. You hungrily pulled out his cock and smiled as he tensed. You wrapped your hand around him and he let out a breath. You licked a long stripe and smiled as you watched him grow red. You took the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue over the top, but he suddenly moved your face back.

“If we do that, I won’t be able to control myself.” You laughed and frowned, feigning upset. “I don’t want to ruin your pretty face tonight.” He pulled his pants further down and lifted you up to stand. “Your cunt on the other hand…”

You smiled. “You’re good.” You quickly pulled down your safety shorts and underwear as he pulled you up by your waist, allowing you to wrap your arms around his shoulders for stability. Using his knee he pushed your legs open and moved a hand down to steady you before teasing your folds by rubbing up on them. “Hurry, they’re going to notice we’re-“ he entered you and you gasped. You were still a bit sore from yesterday, but once again he was hitting that spot that sent tingles into your stomach. “Fuck!”

He smiled and started rocking his hips into you. Kissing you and muttering words of praises. You felt your climax rapidly approaching and you couldn’t help but moan and buckle your hips wildly against him. You felt him speed up and you were suddenly in total bliss. You felt the heat quickly build up inside you before it flooded your entire body. You climaxed and felt yourself clamp down on him. “Fuck.” He said as he slammed his hips into you deeper and deeper before settling there with a final jut and coming deep inside of you. His grunts as he came made you smile and you peppered kisses on his face. He put a hand up under your chin and guided you to kiss his lips. You pulled back and smiled at him happily.

There was suddenly a knock on the door and your head snapped towards it, startled. “Y/N you in there?” It was Akari. “Are you okay? Is your stomach upset again?”

You felt Nanami slide out and he quickly grabbed some toilet paper to collect what oozed out of you. “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry. I guess it wasn’t the best idea to go out drinking after I fucked up my stomach yesterday.” Thank you, you mouthed to Nanami who had wiped you clean and was now wiping himself. “Did everyone else leave?”

“Nanami still isn’t back. Shoko said he might have gone out for a smoke, I didn’t know he smoked honestly.” You looked back at Nanami and he shook his head. I don’t. He seemed to say.

“Okay, just give me like 3 minutes and I’ll be out there, I’m sorry.”

“You’re good!” Nanami looked at you with pleading eyes.

“Come home with me,” he whispered. You blushed and considered it.

“I..I can call a taxi if you want to go ahead and go home, I honestly might be longer.”

You heard Akari laugh from the other side of the door. “It’s no problem, god knows you’ve seen me worse. Actually do you want to just spend the night at my place and we can head to work together? I do live closer so you’ll get to sleep in a bit more.”

Nanami shook his head and you frowned at him. “That sounds good.” He looked upset. You smiled slightly. He was way more expressive without his glasses. “Tell the others I’ll be right out. They can go without me.”

“Okay, I’ll tell them there was a line. Your secret is safe with me.”

“You know I love you right.” You said to Akari. You heard her laugh again.

“Shoko was right earlier, she has to get in line, I’m gonna marry you first.” You heard her walk away.

“Why won’t you come with me?” Nanami asked seriously.

Your smile dropped as you thought about it. You shrugged. “I don’t know you. I don’t think it would be appropriate.”

“Really?” He said in an annoyed tone, as he zipped up his pants and handed you your underwear. You rolled your eyes and smiled at him. You reached up to take your panties when he playfully raised them higher. “Let me help you with that.” he lowered his arm and lowered himself down, opening the band to let you slip your legs into them. He slowly slid them up your legs, letting his fingers trace your skin. He stood back upright and hovered his face in front of yours smiling mischievously. You blushed and slipped on the rest of your bottoms.

You sighed as you wrapped your arms around his shoulder and he gently placed his hands on your waist. “You said it yourself, you’re not interested in pursuing a relationship with me.”

“I-“

You shook your head and cut him off. “Why would you take me home other than to just fuck me again? I have a bit more self respect than that. Besides, I told you I had feelings for you. I don’t want to give myself hope.” You looked down, feeling a bit somber. “I don’t know why we keep running into each other like this, but I know I don’t have your heart even in the slightest. I know I’m not who you were hoping for.” He looked at you confused. He opened his mouth to speak but you kissed him to shut him up. “You need to start carrying around condoms, you’re going to get someone pregnant like this. Wait two minutes before you walk out.” You quickly slipped out of his embrace and opened the door.

“Y/N, wait.”

You closed the door behind you and looked at the person waiting to go in. “I’d wait for the other bathroom to open up, give this one time to air out. I’m sorry.” You said and walked away. As you walked you noticed how sore your lower abdomen was. The alcohol was wearing off and what you had just done was slowly sinking in.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

˚₊✩‧₊nana here: i'm sorry for ending this with another cliffhanger but i didn't want to make this any longer than it already is and i also didn't want to give y'all a chapter without a little spice. i'm still trying to figure out the direction of part 3... theres a lot of things that i introduced here that might just not go anywhere oops. i have a whole project in my head but it might be something for ao3 isntead idk. i'll be sure to wrap this up neatly tho. anyway thank yall for reading and remember that if you saw a typo, no you didn't. shout out again to cath for reading my god awful writing and editing it haha

pt 1. pt 3. pt 4. pt 5. pt. 6

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phantommoondoll · 20 days ago

Text

Everybody is a suspect.

Yandere Ethan Landry x fem reader

The dorky guy is not only a serial killer, he also wants to fuck you.

CW: dubcon!!!!!!!!! oral, spanking, cum eating, smut, stalker/perv Ethan, degrading, praise, talk of anal at the end.

Answering the phone during the rampant violence wasn’t a good idea. But you had always been either braver than most. Or stupider than most. However, once you heard the altered voice of Ghostface, you hung up the phone immediately. You grabbed whatever weapon was near you, a bat and prepared to swing at the enemy.

You heard the door open and you charged out, screaming but it quickly disappeared in your throat when you saw Ethan. The dorky man who also happened to be in your college class. He was advancing quickly in studies and you were close to graduating. But the two of you bonded regardless of the slight age difference.

“Jesus! What’s with the bat?” Ethan winced at your position and you rolled your eyes.

“I thought you were a murderer.” He scoffed and extended his hand.

“No, that would be you if you hit me.” You hesitated but gave him the baseball bat. “But what happened? Why did you think I was a killer?”

Sighing, you lifted up your phone. “Ghostface. He’s been calling me. I guess I’m his new target.” Ethan rushed to you, his hands on your shoulders. He examined you and you rolled your eyes. “I’m not hurt. It was just a phone call.”

His brown eyes were darker for a moment and then his gripped tightened. You tilted your head. Ethan was always awkward, clumsy in movements and he always acted scared of a woman’s touch. But now, you realize that your back is being pressed against the wall.

Ethan removed one hand from your shoulder, pulling out his phone and your breath left you. You were looking at a photo of yourself in bed. You were sleeping but the picture was taken from your closet. And then, he showed you a call log.

“Ethan-“ you began but his large hand came up and he pressed a finger to your lips.

“Shh, I wouldn’t hurt you. I just wanted to scare you a little. Ghostface isn’t who I am all the time and you just look so pretty when you’re scared.” Your nerves twisted and your stomach went into a knot. You went to move his hand but Ethan seized your wrist. He held it above your head and then leaned down to press his lips to your ear.

“I also heard you moaning the other night…whimpering actually. And a name came through those pretty lips.” You started panting and Ethan moved back to face you with a wicked look. “My name.”

Your bottom lip quivered in fear as Ethan pulled out a knife and slammed the sharp end beside your head. Eyes squeezed shut, a warm kiss brushed against your cheek and you shrieked.

“Shhh, I said I wouldn’t hurt you. But I just need you so bad. I’ve waited so long, baby.” Ethan then hauls you to your bedroom and you fight him the whole way. “Come on, sweet girl. You know you’re not gonna win.” You try and hold onto whatever you can grab. Ethan claps a hand over your mouth and manhandles you onto the bed.

“Get the fuck out! You’re a fucking killer! Don’t touch me!” You shout from behind his palm and Ethan looks incredibly angry. But your efforts are worthless as he pins you down. His curly hair tickling your face.

“If you keep screaming, this will be harder than it needs to be. I won’t kill you. But I’ll punish you. And I promise you sweet little dumb girl, you won’t like it.” Ethan growled and fight left you. You didn’t shout again but you gave him a glare.

“Why would I want anything to do with you? You’re a murderer. Fucking freak.” You hissed and the tension was thick but you gasped when Ethan grabbed your thighs. Your black skirt was hauled up and he looked at your soaked panties.

“Oh now that’s rich. This turns you on? Me being a little rough with you? scaring you brainless?” Ethan’s big hand landed on your ass, your legs still pushed back and your eyes were wide. He landed several hard spanks and a red bruise formed.

His fingers looped around your underwear and dragged them down your legs and shoved them in your mouth. His brown eyes were focused on your skin and the wetness in the middle. You whined as Ethan dragged his fingers along your inner thighs and groaned. He took in the way you rolled into his touched but you still showed fear.

He touched your center, feeling the swollen clit and moved his hand back. Ethan watched, mesmerized by the stringy arousal. He popped his digits into his mouth and made a noise of satisfaction. “You’re so creamy.” He said in praise and looked down at your deshelved body.

Ethan knelt down and clutched your hips. You could hear your heartbeat as he wasted no time by shoving his face in your cunt. You sharply inhaled behind your underwear as he sloppily sucked your clit, stretching it and then licking with hard pressure. You accidentally moaned but cleared your throat to try and mask it. But Ethan heard you. He pushed your legs apart further and focused his tongue on your clit. It was evident he was inexperienced but the hunger he had caused your nipples to harden.

“Been wanting a taste.” He said lowly and shoved his tongue in your entrance. You let out a louder cry, unable to hold back and he held your legs down as he aggressively made out with your pussy.

Your high came and you creamed on his face but he showed no sign of stopping. It was getting overwhelming and you tried to push his head away. But Ethan caught your hands and didn’t stop until you came another two times.

Tears streamed down your cheeks and he finally lifted up. His lips were coated and dripping. Ethan crawled up and hovered over your mouth.

“Swallow what you fucking did.” He plucks the panties from your mouth and you taste yourself as it falls on your tongue. You looked at him with doe eyes and Ethan crushed his lips to yours in a fierce kiss. His strength was greater than you expected and he felt your curves. You tried to pull away but his hand wrapped around your neck and he tugged your bottom lip.

“Stop fighting it.” He kissed you again, hard enough that the breath left you as he shoved his pants down. You clawed at his back but his efforts didn’t end as you felt his hardness. A moan broke out again as he sucked the sweet spot on your neck, your morals were leaving as he focused on your collar bones.

“You want it, I know you do. You are a messy little girl and you’re craving to be filled up.” You cried out in pleasure as you felt the thick head of his cock push in you. Ethan heaved out a series of swear words and grunts as he lifted your leg higher on his hip. It mildly hurt but the pain disappeared as a deep pull in your core began. You felt like a drooling mess as he thrusted, hitting the spots you could never reach.

“You’re such a fucking whore. A pathetic cum filled mess. Too weak to fight back against a goddamn killer.” Ethan continued fucking you with relentless energy and your mouth went slack as he spit inside. He sucked your lower lip and palmed your tits. You completely succumb to him, letting him circle your clit as you screamed. The orgasm was so powerful your vision went black for a few seconds and he was soon after spilling into you.

He pulled out, jerking his dick until you were covered in cum and he grabbed you by the hair. You faced his pulsing cock in front of your face. “Lick it off. You wanna be a little weak puppy? You wanna be a little bitch for me? Then lick off what you did and then I’m gonna fuck that ass of yours. Serves you right for wearing those slutty skirts.”

@hauntedfawnn @eerielamb @marchsfreakshow

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mintyys-blog · 1 month ago

Note

Hi love your blog, idk if my request went in since it said error on my side but, if it didn't can you do mark plus his variants with freaky reader. Like they are down to do anything, any place, any time. They have all sorts of kinks, have all sorts of toys hidden away their home. They take any chances to grope their pookie bear and she gets worse when she's ovulating maybe when she has baby fever she's like "omg that's funny honey, now how about we get started on making kids so you can tell them that joke" she likes to purposely make them upset so they can be rough on her. When they come back from a mission she's just waiting on the bed with fake candles and fuzzy handcuffs perhaps a strap(?) like if she isn't being freaky with them they know something seriously wrong with her (Love your work also who's your favorite mark variant? Me personally it's Omni Mark and viltrum mark 🫦)

HEADCANON | when you are a sex freak

INVINCIBLE MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: sexual themes

A/N: I love all the mark variants— but I hold a special place for Shiesty mark and prisoner mark.

Mainstream Mark

He floated through the window, shirt half-ripped, bruises blooming along his jaw and ribs. It had been a long day. One of those save-the-world-three-times kind of days. All he wanted was a shower and sleep.

But there you were.

The lights were low. Soft music hummed from his speaker. Fake candles flickered in a carefully placed circle around the bed, which you lounged on like a damn siren—wearing nothing but a silky red robe and a smug smile. And in your lap? Fuzzy pink handcuffs and a bottle of flavored lube you definitely didn’t buy for massage.

Mark just stood there, frozen. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

You tilted your head sweetly. “Welcome home, hero.”

“I almost died today.”

“Aw. Then you deserve a reward.” You dragged the cuffs along your thigh, slow and deliberate. “Maybe a little stress relief?” He dropped his gloves and groaned. “Do you ever not think about sex?”

“I think about it when I breathe. So… no.” You patted the bed. “Come on, baby. I promise to be gentle. Unless you want me to be mean.” He muttered something under his breath, dragging his hand down his face. “Babe,” you whispered. “If I don’t get railed in the next ten minutes, I might combust. You want that on your conscience?”

“…Why am I in love with you?”

“Because I’m the best thing that ever happened to your stamina.”

⸻

Viltrumite Mark

He arrived home, bloodstained and battle-worn, tossing his armored gauntlets aside. You didn’t even wait for him to get to the bedroom—you cornered him in the hallway.

You pressed your hands to his chestplate, eyes burning with lust, and leaned in. “Conquering planets really gets me going, you know that?”

Mark raised an eyebrow. “We just wiped out an entire species.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, dragging your hand down to the fastenings on his armor. “And now I wanna create life.”

His expression darkened slightly, the kind of edge only Viltrumite Mark carried. “You want to make a child right now?”

“I’m ovulating. You’ve got, like, a five-hour window. Wanna waste it?” He scoffed, amused, brushing his fingers along your cheek. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I’m lucky you’re strong enough to break the bed. Again.” His lips twitched. “You’re absolutely insatiable.”

“And you’re absolutely not complaining.” He lifted you effortlessly. “Shut up.”

You grinned. “Make me.”

⸻

Full Mask Mark

He crept into the apartment, mask still on, hoping—praying—you’d already gone to bed.

You hadn’t.

You were sitting on the kitchen counter wearing one of his long-sleeved black shirts and nothing else, licking melted chocolate off your fingers, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

“I bought a new toy,” you said innocently. He stopped in his tracks. “Why do you always say it like that?” You shrugged, legs swinging lazily. “Because I know how your brain works. And I like when your mask twitches like that.”

“You’re in heat again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, sweetie, I never left.” He groaned. “It’s been three days.”

“Then you better hydrate.” He didn’t even argue. Just walked over, grabbed your thighs, and yanked you off the counter. “Bedroom. Now.”

“And bring the mask,” you whispered in his ear. “You know I love when you growl.”

⸻

Mohawk Mark

He walked through the portal mid-sentence, laughing with a bloody lip and pride on his face—only to stop short when he smelled candles.

Then he heard you.

“Hey, baby!” you called from the living room. “I just got this new gel that heats up when you breathe on it. Wanna test it with me?”

He slowly peeked around the corner.

You were in fishnets and a hoodie zipped down the middle, crouched on the floor with a box of questionable products, your eyes gleaming with excitement.

Mark looked exhausted. “You didn’t even wait for me to land.”

“You think I’m patient? No. Now get over here, or I’ll test it on myself.”

He cracked a smirk. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

You winked. “Promise.”

⸻

Lensless Mark/ No Goggles Mark

He opened the door, quiet as always, expecting to find you passed out from whatever chaos you’d gotten up to earlier. Instead, he stepped into darkness, except for the dim red glow coming from the bedroom.

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, cross-legged, in a black robe… and holding a vibrator. The remote for it rested in your palm. “I went in my little stash again,” you purred.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click. “And what exactly did you do with it?” You pressed the button. The vibrator buzzed to life with a soft hum. “Learned its settings.” He smiled, teeth glinting in the low light. “Good girl.”

Your pupils dilated. “Am I?” He walked forward, taking the remote from your hand. “Let’s find out.”

⸻

Sinister Mark

He returned home, blood splattered and silent, but paused when he saw the lights off and the air filled with an eerie calm. He stepped into the bedroom and saw you on the bed, wrists bound with silk, a note tucked in the knot: “Bet you can’t be gentle. Prove me right.” He laughed low in his throat. “You little demon.”

You didn’t even flinch. “Missed you.” He tossed his jacket aside, his eyes glowing slightly. “Keep playing like this, and I’ll never go easy on you.”

“That’s the idea.”

⸻

Shiesty Mark

He pulled up to the house in a stolen car. Not because he had to. Just because he felt like it. Shades still on, shirt half unbuttoned, he kicked the door open with a smirk—only to find you in the kitchen wearing thigh highs, a silk robe, and a cherry-flavored lollipop you weren’t even trying to eat innocently. “Hey, Marky,” you said through a hum. “Guess what I didn’t wear under this.”

He bit his lip and looked around. “We got company?”

“Nope.”

“Bet.” He tossed the keys onto the counter and walked toward you. “Oh, and baby?” you added, eyes locked on his. “I stole your handcuffs and tied myself to the bed with them earlier. Just sayin’.”

Mark paused. “…You my kinda crazy, you know that?”

“You gonna punish me for stealing?” He popped the lollipop out of your mouth and grinned. “Damn right I am.”

⸻

Omni Mark

He returned from Viltrumite affairs like the god he thought he was—bloodied, annoyed, with that imperial air of superiority radiating off of him. You were waiting in his throne room. Not at home. Not in bed. The throne room. Kneeling, hands behind your back, dressed in red and black lace like a sacrificial offering.

He froze. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling my civic duty,” you said sweetly. “You’re always talking about expanding the empire. How about we start by expanding our family?” His jaw clenched. “You’re in heat again.”

“Isn’t it convenient?” you purred. “All this power and no heir? Tsk, tsk.”

He stared at you for a long moment, then descended the steps slowly. “You’re a menace,” he muttered, already unfastening his cape. “And you love it.”

⸻

Prisoner Mark

They threw him back in his cell, chained and bloodied. You were already waiting, sitting cross-legged on his cot in nothing but a guard jacket. “You’re gonna get me executed,” he said flatly. You grinned. “Oh, I’m not here for long. I just wanted to tell you—I bribed a guard to leave us alone for ten minutes.”

“You risked your life for ten minutes?”

“Correction,” you said, leaning in close, “I risked your life. But you love when I do that.” He groaned as you reached into your coat and pulled out a familiar pair of cuffs.

“…Those are supposed to be on me.” You winked. “Not tonight.”

⸻

Target Mark

He’d just finished a silent takedown. Blood still dripping off his gloves, target neutralized, mission complete. He returned to his safehouse and found you casually perched on the couch, wearing one of his tactical vests and nothing else. “Didn’t know assassins came with built-in stress relief,” you teased. He sighed and locked the door. “You’re gonna blow my cover.”

“There is something else I can blow.” You purred. “Oh no,” you whispered dramatically. “What if I leave hickeys that show through the suit?” Mark narrowed his eyes. “You already did last time.”

“Guess you’ll have to punish me.” He tossed his gear to the ground. “You’re the real mission, you know that?” You licked your lips. “Then you better go undercover.”

⸻

Maskless Mark

The door slammed behind him as he dropped his gear, sighing in relief. He had been up all night, working through a never-ending list of responsibilities. All he wanted was some peace and quiet, maybe a few minutes to breathe.

But there you were, waiting for him.

You were sprawled out on the couch, wearing nothing but his hoodie, legs spread wide. The room was dimly lit with the soft glow of fairy lights, and the scent of something sweet filled the air.

He didn’t even need to ask; he already knew what you were up to.

“You’re lucky I don’t need to be in the field tonight,” he muttered, running a hand through his messy hair. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Good,” you smirked, tilting your head back, “because you’re gonna have to kill me to stop this.” You patted the space next to you, the invitation clear in your posture. His gaze flicked to the couch, then back to you, his eyes darkening. “You’re relentless,” he growled, stripping off his jacket as he moved toward you.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you teased, slowly pulling the hoodie off your body, the fabric falling away to reveal nothing underneath. Maskless Mark took a step forward, his hand gripping the back of the couch, his entire body tense. “Every time I think you can’t get any worse, you prove me wrong.”

“That’s because I’m only getting started, baby,” you purred, giving him a sultry grin. “You’ve got five minutes to get me off this couch before I start doing it myself.” His eyes narrowed, a mixture of frustration and arousal flashing across his face. “You’re absolutely insane.”

“Come on, Mark,” you teased, slowly sliding down the couch until you were laying flat, arching your back just enough for him to catch a glimpse of what he was about to get into. “The real question is, why are you still standing there?”

And with that, he dropped down beside you, a hand gripping your waist and pulling you closer. “You’re never getting any sleep again, you know that?” he muttered as his lips found yours, the tension between you two finally snapping. You smiled against his lips, already feeling the familiar pull of his hands on your body. “Good. I like it when you’re wide awake.”

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slowdrawl · 12 days ago

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| Everybody Loves Contractors | AU NO OUTBREAK| JoelMiller X f!reader |

She’s got a fixer-upper, trauma, and an attitude problem. Joel’s got calloused hands, a tool belt, and a soft spot for crazy. This is going to go great. "He hums, and he’s so close that you can practically feel the vibration on your ear. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the proximity between you. He’s practically got you caged between him and the wall; the realization makes you light-headed. A shiver rolls down your shoulders, landing low in your spine. You shrug it off and turn around." a/n Here's the start of a new series because of there's one thing I'm gonna write it's flirty!Joel with lots of banter cuz it's my AU and ur just livin' in it (if u want 2)

| Warnings | Explicit language, sexual tension, mutual pining, age gap, a little angst, mentions of DV (not described, not Joel), mentions of PTSD, mentions of death, Joel being Joel, etc. Please read responsibly.

The house smells like mildew and anger.

It’s written in the walls, literally. Holes punched through drywall, baseboard peeling at the edges. There are cat scratch marks on the inside of the laundry room door, it still smells like ammonia. The smallest bedroom has pencil marks in the doorframe, little ticks with dates scrawled next to them. Someone’s poor kid grew up here. You can’t help but wonder what kind of trauma they took with them in the moving van.

Five months ago, you changed the locks on your old rental and promised yourself never again.

Three months ago, you got the protection order.

Two months ago, they accepted the offer, and you quit your job in Seattle.

And now here you are, two thousand miles away from everything you’ve ever known. Standing in the middle of the living room of your new home, sweating, maybe regretting. Your whole life…or what’s left of it anyway, stacked in boxes along one wall.

You don't know what you expected. Some kind of relief. Maybe. A break in the clouds. One of those cinematic moments where a breeze rolls through the window and the sun hits just right. The kind of moment that makes life feel bearable again, that makes the future look bright and tangible.

Instead, the air is thick, dusty, humming with someone else's ghosts.

You wipe your forehead with the hem of your t-shirt and mutter, "The fuck did I get myself into," to the drywall, like it might actually answer you.

You jump when you hear a knock. Not on the door, but on the siding.

Heavy, loud, maybe a little annoyed.

It makes the whole wall rattle, like it's got opinions or something. You’d almost forgotten that the contractor you hired was supposed to swing by today.

You peek through the window, squinting. He’s already walking backwards away from the door. Clipboard in hand, scanning the place, a frown set into his face like it’s been there since before you were born. He’s in a t-shirt, jeans, work boots. Built like a load-bearing wall, and if you had to guess, probably as friendly as one, too.

You open the door a few inches, and leave the storm door shut. "You the contractor?" you ask, for some stupid reason. Of course he is.

He responds, deadpan, rough Southern drawl, "No, I’m actually here to talk to you about our Lord and Savior." Half a smirk tugs at his mouth, but it settles quick.

"Funny." You let out half a laugh. "God don’t want nothin' to do with me. If you come back with Girl Scout cookies, maybe we can talk." You shake your head, open the door wider. "Miller, right?"

He glances up at you and nods once. "Yes, ma’am. You can call me Joel. You the one that hired me?" Do I look old? Ma’am feels old. I’m like a decade younger than him. Oh god, I need to moisturize.

"I guess so, Sir. You were the only one who answered the ad."

He huffs through his nose. "Figured it’d be worse. Place looks better than it did in the photos, at least."

You raise a brow. "You haven’t even seen inside yet."

"True. I never will if you don’t open the door, darlin’." Oh. Okay. That’s better. Darlin’ is definitely better.

You reach out your hand toward him, introduce yourself. He takes it. His hand engulfs yours. Calloused, hairy, fucking massive. You try to shake like you mean business, your dad’s voice echoing in your head about strong handshakes.

You step aside to let him in. He surveys the place like it’s a crime scene. Probably because it honest to god looks like one.

"No offense, ma’am," he says, looking around. "This place is a mess."

You shrug. "A mess was about all I could afford to buy. Besides, she’s got character." You cross your arms. "That’s why I hired a contractor."

He nods, dragging one of those big-ass hands down a particularly banged-up corner at the living room entrance. "That so?" he laughs. "Maybe we need Jesus to get involved after all—might need a carpenter who knows how to perform miracles."

You huff a laugh. "Well I got cash, not faith. Let’s see what that buys me."

He keeps walking, slow, deliberate, like each creak in the floorboards is telling him something. His eyes scan the water-stained ceiling, the slumped couch you haven’t had the guts to toss yet, the leaning doorframes.

You trail behind him, arms crossed, suddenly aware of the sweat under your bra and how empty your stomach feels. Saltines and gas station coffee aren’t holding up.

"Previous owner leave in a hurry?" Joel asks, toeing a half-unpacked box near the back door.

"If by hurry you mean five years of divorce proceedings and a nervous breakdown, then yeah. Real Irish goodbye."

That earns a quiet chuckle. You glance at him. His expression stays unreadable, but his mouth twitches like it wants to smirk.

He heads to the kitchen sink, turns the knob. The pipes groan. Nothing.

You wince.

He looks over his shoulder. "You been livin’ here without plumbing?"

"I’ve been surviving, thank you very much. It’s called character building." You laugh, “Maybe don’t get too close though.” You pick up the collar of your t-shirt and pretend to sniff it. The joke barely lands, you are indeed visibly sweaty. This is going so well. I love this for meHe looks you up and down, giving you a questioning look. It makes your pulse jump. Something about him is making you even sweatier, and you’re not being very fucking cool about it. “I’ve been staying at an AirBNB. I promise I’ve showered this week.”

He turns to face you fully, arms folded now. Broad as hell. The kind of man who fills a room without trying. "You planning to do any of this work yourself?"

You lift your chin. "Some of it."

He snorts. "You got tools, princess?" Oh…

Wait, no, nope. Not a princess, not into a man being patronizing, even if he looks like this. Get it together. THINK OF THE PATRIARCHY.

"I have… a hammer. Somewhere."

"Mmhm.” he tilts his head, “it pink n’ glittery or what?”

He kneels down, already pulling a multi-tool from his back pocket. "I’ll get some measurements. But just so you know—houses like this? They got a way of showin’ people what they’re really made of. Sooner or later." You sigh, rubbing at your temple, feeling defeated already. “if you don’t want to take the job I understand, just let me know. Because I don’t exactly have time to fuck around here.” “I can do it. Just gonna take time is all.” He stands back up, putting the tool down on the kitchen island, pulling out a measuring tape. “You wanna talk numbers?” What you want to say is, ‘Yes. Yours. Cellphone preferably,’ but you can already taste the rubber from putting your foot in your mouth during this whole damn interaction. So you don’t. You settle on, “Yes, please don’t bankrupt me, I’m fragile.”

“Alrighty then, show me the rest of the place. We can give you a ballpark after I see how fucked up it really is.” You lead the way down the hall, you were smart—or maybe annoying, enough to mark a lot of the things you’ve found to be extra janky with sticky notes. He followed behind you, on your heel, too damn close, making notes on that fuckin’ clipboard the whole time. “Three bedrooms, huh? You got kids back at the BNB?” He asks you as you’re pacing the smallest room. You laugh, shocked. “Nope, no croch goblins, just dreams of somewhere for my friends from back home to stay in when they visit.” You look back at him, “Thinking of turning the other one into a ritual room or something, somewhere I can sacrifice goats n’ shit.” He doesn’t respond, doesn’t flinch. You laugh, awkward this time “I think it’s haunted anyway.” GIRL. WHY ARE YOU THE WAY YOU ARE? “Well, ’m not a witch, or warlock or whatever. But, I might know an exorcist if you really need one.” He replies with a wink. You stutter, “Noted,” and usher him into the bathroom. The bathroom is small, and he follows you in instead of standing in the doorframe. It’s a tight fit for two people, there are probably two feet between you as he surveys the place. He lets out a heavy breath, “Well fuck.” You groan, “Oh god, what is it? Wait. Actually…don’t tell me” You say as you turn around to see what he’s looking at. He’s just staring past you toward the wall beside the shower, the expression on his face tells you he sees something expensive to fix. “You see that?” He says, moving in a bit closer, pointing and reaching his arm past you, placing it on the wall, dragging a finger down. God, I am touch starved.

“There is, or at least was a leak in this wall. Probably why the waters turned off. Did your husband…boyfriend, whoever, not get an inspector here before you bought the place?” “See, that would involve having one of those.” “An inspector?”

You pause. “A boyfriend. Last one ended in a protection order and a move halfway across the country.” You laugh, say it like it’s a joke, but it’s not. He doesn’t need to know that , though. If you laugh about it it’s not so real, not so scary. “Didn’t have an inspector either.” He hums, and he’s so close that you can practically feel the vibration on your ear. Suddenly, you are acutely aware of the proximity between you. He’s practically got you caged between him and the wall, the realization makes you light-headed. A shiver rolls down your shoulders, landing low in your spine. You shrug it off and turn around. What in the pornhub is going on? I need some fuckin’ air. You pratically trip over your own feet getting out of the bathroom, you duck under his arm, tossing some half-hearted, vaguely-human sound over your shoulder like “Okaycoolthanksnoted.” Joel says nothing again, just watches you spin away like roadrunner or some other cartoon character with a trauma response. You stumble down the hall, leaning against the opposite wall, trying to look casual and not like you just got a full body flashbang of a panic attack from a MAN explaining water damage. Baby calm the fuck down, he’s just tall!! You grab a loose piece of paper off the ground, fanning yourself with it. It has “TO DO: 1: TRY TO SURVIVE. 2: DON’T CRY” written on it in sharpie. The irony is honestly cinematic. A few seconds later Joel emerges from the bathroom, he’s got his eyes down, scribbling something onto the clipboard. He looks unfazed, like he has no idea that you feel like he was about to go 50 Shades of Plaid on you. “You good?” He asks, low, unreadable again. You freeze. He knows, he fucking knows. You clear your throat. “Oh yeah. Just, uh…tight bathroom. I’m claustrophobic, and allergic to mold, and men. You know, just girlie things.” He stares you down, one brow arched high. You decide to pivot. “Okay, so like…give it to me straight, doc. How bad is it? Realistically. On a scale of one to ‘the screen door is actually a portal to the underworld.’” Joel flips a page on the clipboard. “Well. You’ve got a lot of issues.” “Okay, ouch, didn’t have to just say it like that.” You chuckle, “Now what about the house?” “Couple walls need gutting, bathroom for sure. You got some foundation issues we need to check into, obviously the plumbing is fucked.” He sighs, tracing a line down the page with that dumb pencil, “Obviously it needs new trim, paint. I guess you could do most of that…I can get you the contract ready by Monday.” “Monday! Cool. Everyone loves Mondays, can’t wait.” He huffs something that might be a laugh. Nice. Then it’s silent for a moment, it’s thick and warm and low-key awful. Neither of you is saying anything; the only sound is a ceiling fan rattling its chain around. You catch yourself zoning out on his forearms, watching the veins pop out when he flexes slightly and flicks his tape measure closed. He notices. You know he notices. He finally looks up at you, meeting your eyes. “You sure about this?” he asks, his voice is lower now. Not condescending. Just… careful. You consider lying. About saying yes, of course, you’ve got it all handled. About pretending like this isnt a last-ditch attempt at rebuilding your life from the ground up after everything else burned down. But you’re tired. And this stranger is looking at you like he understands the version of you that doesn’t have it together. So you say, “If I'm being honest, not really. But I don’t have too many options.” Joel nods. “Well, seems like a decent place to start, then.”

Before he leaves, the two of you migrate to the back deck—if you’re even allowed to call it that. It’s less porch, more ominous wooden death trap. You already know this bad boy needs to be re-built. It’s really not on the top of your priority list. Joel takes one look at the wood rot, trails the warped boards and groans heavy from his chest. “You know this whole thing is rotted right?” “Do I look stupid? Mr. Miller?” You reply to him snarky, you’ve given up all grace at this point. Fuck it. Being off-putting and kind of mean is my new thing. You drop yourself down onto a broken pallet, sighing dramatically, swiping your hand across your forehead. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, Joel. She’s got character, we’ve been over this.” You hear him mutter something about termites and OSHA violations, then watch as he lowers himself onto the step. He groans like a dad. It sounds like old injuries and unresolved tension.

He flips the paper over again, then, like Blues fuckin’ Clues, he’s listing things off like you didn’t hear it the first time. Plumbing, rewiring, subfloor replacement in the kitchen, and a new water heater. Your ears start ringing with the sound of a cash register, dollar signs flooding your mind. “Then labour?” you ask, voice very brave and not shaking at all. He gives you a number. A rough, but real number. Like five digits real. You nod. “Cool, cool. Totally doable. I’ve always loved bankruptcy, I think it's sexy, honestly.” Joel tilts his head at you like he’s still trying to figure you out. Good luck old man. You see the gears turning in his head, trying to feel out how much of your sarcasm is actually just fear. Scanning your face like he doesn’t know if you’re only half joking, or seconds away from tears. The Joke’s on him. Two things can be true at one time. “I can probably… get a bigger loan,” you mumble, mostly to the coffee can filled with cigarette butts next to you. “You only need one kidney, right? Also, I’m a regular plasma donor, you know where the blood bank is by chance?”

This time he gives you a real look, softer. Something that has dad energy behind it, care mixed with a bit of pity. “I can work with you on the schedule, ‘specially if you’re doin’ some of the demo yourself. Knock her out slower, cut down on the labour cost.” You blink. “Are you offering me a payment plan? Or trying to get me to weaponize a sledgehammer for your own sick enjoyment?”

He shrugs. “Both, mostly.” You watch him stand, groaning again, tucking his clipboard under his arm. The afternoon sun is hitting his hair just right. He pulls the pencil out from behind his ear and walks over to the doorframe like it's his handy dandy notebook. “Hello, Sir, are you about to deface my property?” He writes ten digits down, right onto the trim, no paper. Just rawdogging the wood with graphite. The number is definitely bigger than the estimate he just gave you. He looks back at you, proud like he was just tagging a masterpiece. Or warning the house. “Text me tomorrow,” he says, stepping back and admiring it like it’s something hung in the Lourve. “We’ll go over the schedule then, ok darlin’?” I know it’s just for work but like… Is he into me? I love being delusional. You stare at the frame. “You need me to…make you business cards, set you up an instagram account or something?” He shrugs again, giving you a salute as he walks out the back gate toward his truck. “Fresh outta cards. Pencils don’t need WIFI.” “You need to expand your horizons. Get hip with the kids!” You holler at him, just as you hear the door of the truck slam closed. Jesus, he’s literally one hundred years old. As the afternoon drags into dusk, the cicadas start screaming, signaling you to call it a day. You glance over at the boxes lined up against the wall, spotting one with ‘TOOLS’ written on it in sloppy print. You giggle as you pick it up, you hoist the box up onto the kitchen island, and rip off the tape. When you look inside, you start laughing harder. On top of the pile of junk in there is a hammer. It looks practically brand new, and the base of it… is pink. Joel was right. God I hate that guy already. You put the hammer own onto the counter beside the measuring tape and pause. Joel must have forgotten to grab it on his way out. You grab your phone and car keys, flicking off the lights in the house, double-checking that the front door is locked and head to the back.

You walk onto the porch and squint at the phone number written on the door trim, punching the digits into your cell. You add the new contact, and then hesitate over the message box for a moment before pressing the home button and tucking it away in your pocket.

The Airbnb is quiet, save the aircon whirring in the corner of the room. It’s a pleasant sound, and feeling after a long day sweltering in the house. It’s 9 pm, you’re starving and exhausted. You start to think about the price of the renovation, and the conversation you have to have with the bank tomorrow, sighing. Now that you have an estimate, you realize that you absolutely have no budget to rent this place anymore. Looks like you’re moving into the house ASAP. You groan at the thought of losing your A/C. You'll miss it, but not as much as you’re going to miss a functioning bathtub. You make a mental note to tell Joel tomorrow that you need to start with the plumbing. You walk into the kitchen, throwing your keys down on the dining table, and walk over to the fridge. You scan the shelves and settle on the leftover sitr-fry you ordered yesterday from some hole in the wall, you pull it out along with a beer. You mumble “Please do not give me food poisoning,” like a prayer, as you throw the box into the microwave. When you’re done with your food, you throw the box into the garbage and grab one more beer from the fridge, before dragging your feet toward the bathroom. You run a bubble bath, lighting some candles you picked up from the dollar store the other day. You lower yourself into the water and let it wash over your aching muscles, letting yourself relax into it. You sip your beer and scroll your phone for half an hour, you keep thinking about him. His phone number is there, in your contacts, taunting you. You, along with the help of two beers and a calorie deficit, convince yourself that you should text him. (9:45 PM) You: You forgot your tape measure, genius. It takes him a few minutes to respond, the perfect amount of time for you to start spiraling and regretting hitting send.

(9:51 PM) Joel Miller: You’re bad at listenin’. Said text me tomorrow, instructions too hard, darlin? You roll your eyes at him through the screen. (9:52 PM) You: Fuck u too!! I was just trying to be nice 🙄 (9:54 PM) Joel Miller: sure you are. Don’t need it. (9:55 PM) You: dont need me to be nice? I’ll remember that. Three dots pop up and then, (9:58 PM) Joel Miller: don’t need the tape measure, got more than one.

You hum to yourself, flipping through your brain like a rolodex, trying to find a witty enough response but you arent quick enough (9:59 PM) Joel Miller: don’t remember askin you to be nice, but if this is it im scared to see the opposite. What the fuck does that mean? Fuck it. (10:04 PM) You: see, you say that like you wouldnt secretly love to see me come unhinged. Sounds like a challenge to me, joel. You: Kinda funny you think you’d survive it, though. Most people don’t stick around long enough to see the full show. You stare at your phone for too long, thumb hovering over the unsend button like its a detonator. He doesn’t open it, doesn’t text back. You’re left with the slow, creeping awareness that you said too much. Again. Very on brand.

You dunk your head down into the water, and you immediately regret that too. You sit up, coughing and blowing bath water out of your nose. You really are the epitome of a calm, collected hot girl today. You start to crash out. Is he joking? Flirting? Warning you? Testing your boundaries? Is this just his weird version of small talk? Are you overthinking this? Yes. Absolutely

Is he in bed right now? Reading your texts over and deciding whether he's going to just send you an invoice for a consult and never step foot in your house again? Oh god, is he going to send YOU a restraining order? You pull the plug in the bath, let the water drain out, and turn the tap on, pulling up on the little lever to let the shower pour over your body. You’re lying there, like you're reenacting some dramatic scene in a movie or music video, where someone's lying in the middle of the street getting rained on. Except you’re just on the floor of a tub, contemplating your very existence, considering moving back out of Texas, maybe you could fake your own death. You turn the tap off, and stumble out of the tub, wrapping yourself up tight in a towel, heading for the bedroom. You throw on an old t-shirt and flop into bed, mind still going in circles as you stare up at the ceiling. You go over the texts one more time and cringe harder. Idiot. That last one truly came out sounding a little too honest, even for you. Like a confession, cosplaying as a dare. You put the phone face down on the nightstand and try to rationalize it. Maybe he’s asleep, he’s old, right? Maybe he’s watching some stupid movie. Maybe he read it and is just… stunned silent by your off-putting yet endearing charm. Totally, that's the one.Or maybe, he’s now just deeply, deeply, concerned that his new client has both abandonment issues and a God complex. You silently scream into your pillow, giving up on the Airbnb ceiling, that bitch had nothing to say. Waiting. Still no reply. Sleep starts to take you, as the sound of the aircon and your own heartbeat mixes like white noise, a little too loud in your ears. You fall asleep thinking about baseboards, leaky pipes, and his hands

ps. if you like this fic please tell me because your comments are what keeps me writing!

#joel miller x reader #tlou fanfiction #joel miller smut #tlou smut #joel miller #the last of us #tlou fic #ppcu fics #everybodylovescontractors

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caitified · 7 months ago

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professional

caitlin clark x golf caddy reader ⛳️

warnings: i’m happy to make a part two showing more of their relationship, but people might hate this so lmk!! i have started part 2 so let me know if that’s something you’d like me to finish. not proof read

when the owner of the golf club you worked at told you that caitlin would be playing there in preparation for her golf tournament, you were shocked to say the least. he told you that it would be your job to caddy for her over the summer which you excitedly excepted, but in all honesty you were slightly intimidated by her stardom and attitude on the court.

the sun was just starting to rise and you were ready for your first shift. you stood by the cart, waiting for your newest client, still in disbelief at the name on your booking sheet. caitlin clark.

it’s not like you were a diehard basketball fan or anything, but it was impossible to not follow caitlin in some way. living in indiana, you couldn’t have escaped her if you tried, and if you were honest with yourself, you had grown a small crush on the guard.

you had no idea what to expect. you had seen videos of caitlin getting into it with other people and showing off her competitive spirit but you didn’t know how this would translate to golf.

as you glanced towards the club house, you spotted her walking up. tall, confident and even hotter in real life (but we won’t talk about that..🥲)

“hey! you must be my caddy. i’m caitlin,” she greeted you with a wide grin and extended her hand. she was dressed in a casual polo and golf skirt, looking every bit the part.

you shook her hand. “yeah, i’m [Y/N]. ready to hit the green?”

caitlin grabbed a club from her bag, eyeing the course ahead of you.

when she started playing, you had a bit of difficultly staying professional. every time you tried to start a conversation with caitlin, your eyes and mind started wander. she had always looked good, but in person in front of you was a whole different story.

what you didn’t know is that caitlin was having similar feelings. from the moment she saw you she felt attracted to you, but she was here to practice for her tournament and couldn’t get distracted. that didn’t mean you didn’t make her nervous though.

as a result, the first couple of holes were a mix of impressive shots and misses. caitlin, ever the competitor, got a little frustrated after her third shot went wide, landing in the rough. she turned to you with a playful groan.

laughing, you handed her an iron. “if you focus on your swing like you focus on your free throws, you’ll get it in no time”

she raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying your commentary. “big basketball fan?”

“a little,” you admitted. “hard not to when you’re on ESPN every other night.”

caitlin laughed, a laugh that felt warm and genuine. “okay, fair enough. but today, it’s all about golf.” she reset her stance, adjusting slightly based on the critiques you gave her earlier ( which she would never admit ). with a smooth swing, she sent the ball soaring through the air, landing it just off the green.

by the time you reached the ninth hole, you could tell caitlin was getting more comfortable, not just with the course, but with you. she leaned against the cart as you handed her a drink from the cooler. “you’re not so bad to hang out with,” she said, her grin widening.

“not until today,” you replied, taking a sip of your own drink. “but you’re not too bad either”

caitlin chuckled softly. “you’re pretty good company, i have to say. plus, i could go pro with the coaching i got from you”

“i think it’s your natural talent shining through,” you teased.

bthe time you finished the round, caitlin had managed to shave a few strokes off her usual score, thanks in part to your company . as you both headed back to the clubhouse, she threw an arm around your shoulders in a friendly side-hug. “so what do you say we make this a regular thing?”

you nodded, trying to keep your cool despite the touch of her arm. “only if you promise to keep improving. i have a reputation to uphold, you know.”

“deal,” caitlin said with a wink.

as you walk away from caitlin, you tried to push down the feelings you had for her and told yourself that it was just a crush. she wasn’t worth risking your job for..right?

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

the days after that first round with caitlin passed like a blur. every morning, you’d find yourself back at the golf course, waiting for her. and every day, without fail, she’d show up with her perfect smile, ready to take on the course, but more than that—ready to spend time with you.

what had started as a professional relationship quickly shifted. there was something easy about being around caitlin. she was open, real, and every round of golf felt less about the game and more about the moments in between. the laughter. the subtle glances that lingered a little too long. and as much as you tried to keep things strictly professional, it became impossible to ignore the growing connection between you.

today, though, felt different.

the late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a hue over the course as caitlin stood beside you on the tee. she twirled her club absentmindedly, eyes focused on the green, but you could sense something more behind her usual relaxed demeanor.

“long day?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

she turned to you with a soft smile. “just thinking.”

“about?” you prompted, trying to sound casual but feeling a subtle tension in the air.

caitlin lowered her club and leaned on it, her eyes now fully on you. “this offseason… i thought it would be about relaxing, taking a break from everything. but i didn’t expect it to be spending all my time thinking about you.”

your breath hitched slightly. there it was—the thing that had been simmering under the surface these past few weeks. the teasing glances, the touches that lasted a beat too long, the way her gaze would drift toward you in those quiet moments on the course.

“caitlin,” you started, but she stepped closer, her expression more serious than you’d ever seen.

“you’ve become the best part of my day,” she said softly. “it’s not just the golf, it’s…everything. you make me feel like I don’t always have to be ‘Caitlin Clark’ when I’m with you, i’m just caitlin. and i don’t know… i don’t want this to end when the season starts again.”

the vulnerability in her voice made your heart race. you’d felt the same way, but hearing her say it—left you momentarily speechless. she looked at you with those eyes, her usual confidence softened by the this moment.

you took a step toward her, closing the small distance between you. “it doesn’t have to end,” you said quietly, your voice carrying the weight of everything between you. “i’ve felt it too, caitlin. this… whatever this is between us. i thought it was just me.”

her lips curved into a small smile, the relief evident in her expression. “you have no idea how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that.”

caitlin’s hand found yours, her fingers warm and strong, just like you’d imagined. the connection between you felt electric, and in that moment, everything else faded into the background.

“i guess i should ask,” she murmured, a teasing glint back in her eyes, “what kind of caddy crosses the line with their client?”

you grinned, stepping even closer, feeling her presence like a magnet pulling you in. “the kind that’s maybe a little too good at their job?”

she laughed softly, the sound warm and familiar. then, without another word, caitlin leaned in, her lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was soft, tentative at first. but as soon as you kissed her back, it deepened, filled with everything you’d both been holding back.

“i’m glad I booked you as my caddy,” caitlin whispered, her voice laced with affection. “but I think i’d like to keep you around for more than just golf.”

you smiled, your heart pounding in your chest. “i think i’d like that too.”

thanks for reading. i kind of hate this but let me know what you think, and if you’d like a part 2! i could also do 18+ headcannons for this.. do you guys like the reader POV or would you prefer something else? love you!

@connormccafferyhater @equalhealerr

#caitlin clark x reader #request #iowa wbb #caitlin clark #wbb #wbb headcannons #wbb imagine #wbb x reader #caitlin clark imagine #indiana fever #wnba x reader #wnba imagine

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kettleinusefornow · 2 months ago

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Rough ride.. MDNI

Sae Itoshi X Reader fic

Contains breakup and miscommunication

Revenge sex

Iceskater!reader

eventual happy ending </3

teenage love

ALOT of angst

CHP2 CHP LIST

CHAPTER 1: Pleasant Surprise

YEAR 2008

You guys meet for the first time at the Itoshi residence.

“You guys are Rin and Sae Itoshi!” Y/N was always an extreme extrovert unlike the brothers.

“Hey..” Sae greeted as Rin shyly hid behind him looking at Y/N with starry eyes. It’s obvious that Sae was slightly cautious since this was the point where he started getting recognised for his football skills.. So a lot of people only approached him with ulterior motives.

“Sooo wanna go play Mario kart..?“ Y/N pointed at the couch in front of the TV.

They somehow, despite their obvious differences, became friends..

YEAR 2009

Well they were closer now. That’s for sure. Y/N was part of their daily life, since they were in the same school.

“Move it grinch hair!!”

“Get the hell away dufus!”

Y/N and Rin were basically siblings. Sae was still.. Distant? No, more like he was just socially awkward.

Y/N and Rin played with their dinosaurs while Sae was behind them eating a popsicle on the bench.

“Oni-Chan! This monkey keeps trying to kill my Dino!”

“Am not!”

Sae sighed. “Y/N you are the older one you should be nicer.. I think..”

YEAR 2012

Sae started middle school so he was always away in school or on the field. This was the time when Rin and Sae started sharing a dream to become No.1 and 2 strikers. Y/N always thought it was a little presumptuous but she never discouraged them from their dream.

Rin and Y/N were walking to Sae’s game that was happening at the field.

“So you know that my brother has a crush on you right?” Y/N almost spit out the lollipop that she had in her mouth.

“Okay how did you come up with that conclusion, broccoli boy..”

“Well.. he always dresses up nice and tries extra hard on the field when he sees you.. Isn’t that enough?”

Well.. He isn’t wrong.. Y/N was young but not dumb.

“Yeah but maybe you are overthinking it Rin, Sae is basically a blockhead no way he would have thought about me while playing football..”

“I guess..”

Y/N was almost taken aback by how easily Rin agreed with her.

The game ended and Sae was walking home with them. Tailing behind the two of them. Sae had his eyes on her head as he turned and lazily glanced around. All of sudden, Rin asked a question that set Sae out of his daze.

“So when is Nee-San gonna date Oni-Chan?” He asked so casually that Y/N didn’t even process it completely before exploding with pink and red dusted on her cheeks. Rin turned his head back and looked at Sae for an answer. Y/N also looked at him with a flustered expression. Sae had a blank expression but finally answered after a few seconds.

“Probably when we are older.” Y/N was now completely red. She was shocked and started running home. Neither of the brothers chased her.

“Woah Oni-Chan, seems like you actually have a chance..”

YEAR 2013

The year that 13 year old Sae was gonna go to Spain for his football career.

Rin was at home with a headache. Y/N and Sae went to the park for some fresh air and to buy some snacks for Rin.

“Y/N..” She turned to look at Sae who was beside her. Both of them were on the swing as she waited for him to continue his sentence.

“Promise me you won’t get mad?” Y/N got a little scared about what he was gonna say.

Y/N and Sae started dating when she started junior high. He confessed to her in a traditional yet cheesy way by giving her a letter and going on a vacation with his family the next day. She always had a thing for him.. It’s Sae. It was your normal middle school sweetheart romance and they thought they would last forever.

“Arggh why do you sound ominous!? Just spit it out..” Y/N said swinging on the same nostalgic swing he confessed to her on.

“I’m going to Spain for a few years.” There. He said it. A few seconds of silence followed before Y/N spoke out.

“You idiot! You scared me! You’ll come back after a few years anyways it’s not a big deal! Just don’t cheat on me and don’t ignore my letters..” Y/N said with a loud voice that got quieter the more she spoke.

Sae suddenly started laughing. Y/N was dumbfounded.. Was him going to Spain for a few years making him insane? “W-what’s so funny?!”

“Nothing. You have to promise me you will still love me when I come back.” Sae said, with a big grin on his face and staring at her with a soft blush across his face. Y/N groaned and nodded as if it was the obvious.

The day finally arrived. The day of Sae’s departure. Y/N promised not to cry but shiny droplets fell down her face. Rin stood by her side as the both of them waved goodbye to Sae who was smiling at them warmly the whole time.

YEARS BETWEEN 2013 AND 2018

Y/N sent him letters and of course he replied to them. Not much but he replied at least once every 5 letters. Soon you got your first smartphone. You guys texted often, not much but from time to time due to the difference of time zones. Sometimes your messages would be left on delivered for a whole week. His replies got dryer, being left on seen more.. Both Y/N and Rin brushed it off as him being busy. They had no other reason to think he was being rude or trying to distance himself. Realistically speaking it wasn’t a big deal.. Yet.

After 4 years the messages which were being sent turned into once every 2 or 3 months. Y/N was getting busy with her school and friends. Rin still trained every single day for the pair's shared goal. Suddenly one cold evening, Y/N sent a message.. It turned.. Green?

“What the?? What’s going on?” Y/N texted Rin telling him what happened. He said he hasn’t texted him in awhile so he doesn’t know.

“Okay let’s calm down.. Maybe it was a misclick? I don’t know.. ugh.. whatever. I’ll see him soon enough I’ll just.. tolerate it until then?” Y/N knew she shouldn’t think too much about it after seeing Rin’s reply.

YEAR 2018

Y/N heard the news he arrived.. But how did she hear it? Rin knocked on her house door. Eyes rimmed in red and hopelessness. He asked if he could stay there for the night. Y/N forced Rin to tell her what the hell had happened earlier that night..

She was.. shocked? No.. Disappointed? Not that. Maybe taken aback? She silently left the guest bedroom where Rin was in and went to the living room. Would he be there if she went knocking right now? Y/N got up and told her parents she was gonna go next door to greet them. The two families knew about Y/N and Sae’s relationship and thought it was just a cute reunion about to unfold. Sae’s parents weren’t home since they went to a small get together and would be back after midnight probably.

Y/N nervously knocked on the door..

“Yes?-“ piercing mint teal eyes shot through her as it stared at her with no emotion.. She couldn’t think at all for a second. Sae was different. Yes much more handsome as he is 18 now but.. different emotionally too. The half lidded her eyes widened a little as it looked at her, in the dark with snow falling around her. Why did he look so.. pale and almost like a child abandoned..?

“Sae?” This small word was followed by silence. The only sounds that surrounded them were the leaves rustling and wind howling. Y/N swore it felt like time had just stopped. Sae looked at her with exasperated and drained eyes.

The silence finally broke when Sae said something. “What do you want?”

Oh.

©kettleinuse4now | please do not translate, repost, refer without permission | don’t steal and say it’s your own (ahole behavior)

#bllk sae #bllk x reader #itoshi sae #sae itoshi x reader #bluelock x you #blue lock #bllk #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #sae itoshi x you #blue lock sae #kettleinuse4now #itoshi rin #itoshi brothers #teenagers #sae itoshi x y/n #sae itoshi

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yanderenightmare · 2 years ago

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Bakugou Katsuki

TW: NSFW, noncon/dubcon, kidnapping, captive darling, gross Bakugou

fem reader

Thinking about hermit forest-dweller Bakugou who lives alone in his lodge…

You got a little lost off the beaten track and were so relieved when you happened upon his homey red-wood cabin, spotting smoke from the chimney and feeling your stomach gurgle from the promise of warm food when knocking on his door.

You’re so terribly sorry to bother him – but your phone has no cell reception, and the map you brought with you had gone pasty and torn in the rain and you have just no idea where you are or how to get back.

He’s rather handsome for a loner, you think. Rough around the edges – hairy and reeking of beer and barnacles. He grunts out a “come in” after you’ve explained yourself, and you follow with a relieved smile, already thanking him.

But only a short second after you’ve taken a step over the threshold comes a hard cack to the back of your head. And for a cloudy moment, you’re something akin to numb all over – only barely registering the harsh feeling of splintery wooden floors against your cheek where you’d fallen to – slowly succumbing to the darkness that forced your eyes to glide close – but not before you could recognize and curl your brows to the big pair of black mountain boots in front of you.

When you wake up, you’re in a bed. It’s a welcomed softness – a warm pleasantness against your wintered skin after you’d wandered aimlessly around in the cold rain – now getting toasty from the heat of the fireplace.

But there’s something more – something not right.

You’re not wearing any clothes. And your hands have been roped behind your back in a strict knot, keeping them locked tightly together.

And you’re being rocked against the sheets – back and forth, back and forth – and you can barely breathe because of it.

And there’s something on top of you – and something fat and wet stuffing your cunt from the back, fucking your taut hole while your eyes flutter with sleep and the start of a pounding headache.

You try screaming when it dawns on you – try twisting your arms free – try getting up, but your mouth has been filled with what you think is your underwear and only muffled cries manage to escape it.

He gruffs out something like, “Quiet, whore.” Planting a harsh slap against your ass while keeping his rhythm steady, thrusting his thickness inside the wet welcome of your quivering little cunt as it seeps with slick for him, soaking him so sweetly it’s even trickling down your thighs in slim lines.

You cry, feeling the stranger touch and fuck you, his heavy hands gritty from work groping the soft fat of your ass while his booted feet kick yours further apart once you try pulling them closed – punishing you with another mean slap to your plush.

The ache in your belly tells you he’s been at it for a while. Having fucked your tightness sore with his girthy meat – shoving it so hard it bends in order to fit all of him inside. His heavy-hung balls swing beneath him, clapping with wet slaps against your budding clit – making your cunt squeeze and suckle him despite your efforts to ignore it.

He groans at the feel before thrusting in all the way to the hilt in one harsh jab – spewing his gross warmth right into your womb.

You’re shell-shocked. Eyes terror-wide, drying as you stare into nothing – waiting for it to make sense – but it doesn’t. A stranger had just spunked inside you and you can feel the warm fatty liquid trickle down your cunt and thighs once he pulls his chubby member out.

“S’been a while since I had my balls emptied like that. Good puss’ milked me dry.” He grumbles with satisfaction, lifting his pants from the pool around his boots and buckling himself back up – giving your puffy cunt a wet slap before he’d quite simply just walked off and gone about the rest of his day – returning to use you later.

From then on, you wear nothing but an old red flannel shirt – it smells of man sweat and other things and is so well-worn all the buttons are gone. The clothes you came in were used as easy firewood. He’d burned it all – every article in your backpack except one – the panties you’d worn – which he instead nailed to the wall like it was another pelt or the head of an animal he’d hunted down.

He keeps you on the floor most of the time. You’re leashed with a fat metal chain meant for a rottweiler – and a leather collar kept snug around your throat with a lock and a tag that reads Pup. He must’ve had a dog at some point, but you’re guessing it died – and you’re its replacement – and whether you want it or not, he’s going to train you into being his proper bitch.

During morning news, you take care of his morning wood – sometimes with your cunt and sometimes with your mouth. He’s still cuddly after waking up, needy for warmth, wanting you skin-to-skin – mostly seating you down on his lap, bouncing you lightly on his cock with his chin resting in the grove between your neck and shoulder. Groaning tiredly while pawing your tits.

If he doesn’t blow his load before the news is over, he’ll bring you with him in the shower. And in the steamy heat, he’ll wake up to give you a real pounding. Your face mushed against the tiles – chin and cheekbone bruising from the force of it while he holds your arms behind your back and rams up into your cunt faster than the droplets fall to the floor. Quick juts until finally creaming inside you, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades while dumping every last drop in deep.

After a long day, he likes when you suck his balls while he drinks his beer and eats his dinner, watching sports. Licking the sweat off the back of his cock, no doubt tasting the dried piss from when he’d taken a leak in the forest. Sometimes he’ll say it. “Suck it clean, slut- be happy I didn’t take a shit, or you’d be tonguin’ my ass with that pretty face too.” Always threatening you with something gross that’ll kick you into the right gear – motivating you to be his little cock-eager whore – down there on your knees with your hands bracing against his thighs, throating his length while he holds a firm hand at the back of your head, fisting your hair so tight strands rip free from their roots while you desperately try and will away your gag reflex in order to please him – eyes squeezed tight with slobber making spit bubbles down your chin.

You’re not allowed dinner before swallowing his load. Dinner – being the leftovers he’ll scrape off his plate into a dog bowl. The first time around, you’d looked up at him like he couldn’t be serious, and he’d only squeezed your face rough and said, “Be happy I don’t piss in it, slut.” And then he’d spat on you, once on your face, then once more in your mouth. It was thick and tasted of brown nicotine and ash and you haven't gotten rid of the taste since.

He’ll throw his feet up on your back while you bow down to eat out of your bowl – using you like a warm footstool until the game is done. If his team wins, he fucks your cunt like usual – but if they lose, it’s your assthat’ll pay the price.

When you’re allowed on the couch, he likes sitting opposites so you can take his muddy boots off and massage his feet. They’re still clammy with sweat from work when you peel his woolen socks off. Chipped dry toenails and scaley callouses, the skin yellow and cracked and rough where you dig your fingers in.

He’ll take his cock out after a while and gather your smaller, softer feet around it – rubbing himself through them while you keep rubbing his soles. When you’re busy with one, the other rests heavily on your tit, pawing it. Sometimes, he’ll even bark at you to suck on the toes.

But it's only until the news is over. After that, he has you crawl over to rest on his chest, nose stuffed with the musk of sweat, wood oil, and leather while he sinks his fat erection all the way up into your womb – storing it there, where it will stay nestled and warm while you watch a western or hunter’s documentary.

He’s hairy like a bear and it makes you feel extra naked. Feeling it tickle your soft skin while he rests an arm on your back – a hand absentmindedly twiddling with your pretty hair.

When he’s not outside cutting down trees and hunting or inside on the couch with a beer, he’s in the meat locker – skinning animals and sectioning flesh. He often fucks you in there. Bent over the cold metal slab, your face in the stags' blood while he growls at your ear how that’ll be you on one of them hooks if you don’t squeeze his cock harder.

But he’s not always so mean.

He’s nicer to you when you act cute for him. When you lie belly-up, raising your thighs and keeping them spread wide for him – covering your gash with your hand while you work it into a nice glossy welcome, wet and ready to get fucked like a little breeding cow. Pretty words on your pretty lip while you beg him with pretty pleas, asking him to stuff you like one of those animals he’s mounted on the wall.

Rich city sluts like you need to be taught you can’t fuck around in his forest without paying your dues. And you’ve learned your lesson – riding him like he’s a mechanical bull from the rodeo like a good tramp should – jumping on his fat shaft with your perky tits bouncing in his face.

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bvbygrl-writes · 8 months ago

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Trick or Treat

Pairing: Stu Macher x Reader x Billy Loomis

Word Count: 3.5k

Summary: It's Halloween and you find yourself experiencing both a trick and a treat.

A/N: As usual I didn't proof read. I know people wanted a part two to Wrong House but this unfortunately is not that. I offer this as consolation. There will be no part two of this one either. 18+ so minors and accounts without age dni or I'll block you.

Warnings: dubcon, mentions of blood and a dead body, painal, double penetration, dacryphilia, roughness, use of the pet name bunny, dark themes, just absolute sinfulness

The Senior Halloween Bash was something people started preparing for months in advance, as it was a big honor to attend. And, despite the fact that a string of murders was happening in the area, that was not enough to kill the hype for the party. Well, it was enough for (Y/n) but not enough for her best friends who were not going to let her get out of going to another party. Plus, as they had reminded her at least one hundred times, she had promised she’d go.

“I’m not sure how practical this outfit is.” (Y/n) remarked, grimacing as she snapped the fishnets against her skin. The entire costume was uncomfortable, tight, and unbearably itchy. The most form fitting thing she had ever worn was a tank top and even then, she never left the house in them. Going from flannel to the Easter Bunny’s Mistress was not going to be easy to adjust to. The feathers cuffs on the gloves were driving her insane already, causing her to scratch at her arms aggressively. Molly swatted her hand, glaring at her overly dramatic friend.

“Come on, (Y/n/n), it’s not that bad! Plus you look super hot. It’s one night. Let’s live a little.” she whined out, pouting as she leaned over the girl’s shoulder in the mirror. (Y/n) observed their appearances. Molly had dressed as a beer tavern maid and Toni, the quietest of the three, was a sexy pirate, her hook hand doubling as a flask which most certainly would need to be refilled before they left.

“Living is exactly what I’m worried about. If the killer is at the party, I won’t be making it five steps in these damn Barbie pumps!” (Y/n) huffed out. She held onto the vanity as she stood up, her ankles wobbling. “I can’t even walk, how do you expect me to last all night?” Molly simply ignored her complaining, fluffing her hair up a little. The (h/c) looked down at the smell of rum under her nose. Toni’s plastic hook was opened at the top as she tipped the remaining amount of liquid towards her friend's mouth.

“I think you need this a little more than I do.” Toni slurred her words slightly, giving her friend a lazy smile. (Y/n) shook her head, pushing the hook back towards her.

“Someone’s gotta be sober enough to drive and considering you’ve had half a pint of rum and Molly took an edible half an hour ago, that really only leaves me,” she took a moment to take in her very pink appearance once more, sighing as she grabbed the keys from the top of Molly’s dresser on the way out, “Let’s get going before I change my mind.”

The party was in full swing at Shane’s mansion. Despite the fact he had been out of high school for four years, he still insisted on hosting the party at his place every year. For free booze, free food, and such a nice pad, nobody really complained. He got to smash girls who were freshly eighteen and they got a place to party with their friends. It was a win all around.

It had only been fifteen minutes and (Y/n) already found herself separated from the girls she had come with. Toni had gotten whisked away by some girl in a Cat Woman costume and Molly…well, she was gone before they had even made it through the back door. The pain in her feet was becoming unbearable and unfortunately, there was no place that looked optimal enough to sit. The couch was filled with her half naked peers, making out with one another. The loungers outside were more or less in the same position.

Grabbing a slice of pizza from one of the many open boxes, she made her way upstairs, the music growing quieter as she made her way down the long corridor. Her eyes landed on the set of double doors at the end, a large ‘OFF LIMITS’ sign plastered on the front. To socialize or to lock herself in one of the only unoccupied rooms? The choice was not too hard to make. Carefully, she looked both ways before hobbling towards the double doors, opening them without a second thought.

The bedroom was massive and from the decor choice, she assumed it belonged to Shane’s parents for the rare times they found themselves home. A large king size bed with a lush comforter set on a rounded platform against the wall. On the other side of the room was a black leather couch, what she hoped was a fake bear rug, and an unlit fireplace. Taking her shoes off, she let out a relieved groan as she kicked them to the side. “Hello, sweetheart.” she purred at the empty bed, sprinting up the small steps before throwing herself onto it, stomach up. She began to make snow angels, the soft fleece making a swishing noise as she did so.

However, she couldn’t fully enjoy herself. There was a dripping noise coming from the ensuite that was driving her up the wall. Sighing, she reluctantly threw her legs over the side of the bed. “Rich people. Who doesn’t check their appliances before going on vacation?” she scoffed, shaking her head as she opened up the bathroom door. Her hand searched the side for a light switch until she felt a bump under her gloved fingers. Flicking it, she let out a horrified scream. Blood covered the walls and floor. In the tub, she recognized the girl. Jessica from her AP English class. Her curly hair was tousled and ratty, eyes wide open. Whatever she had last seen absolutely terrified her from her permanent shocked expression. Trailing her eyes down, (Y/n) could saw the dripping was a result of the blood running down her neck to the tips of her fingers, dribbling down into a pool of crimson on the floor.

(Y/n) felt sick to her stomach. It was taking everything in her to not pass out, throw up, or hell, even do a combination of both. With a hand over her mouth, she slowly began to back out of the door. She couldn’t bear to look at this any longer. She had to call the cops! Her steps were suddenly interrupted from a wall that wasn’t there before. A warm, breathing wall. A strong arm wrapped around her torso, holding her in her spot.

“Where do you think you’re hopping off to, little bunny?” The gravelly voice said in a humorous tone that she found to be extremely inappropriate given the circumstances. Her breath hitched in her throat as she began to stutter nonsensical words, begging her brain to piece together some english.

“I-I won’t tell anyone! Please just- just let me go!” she stuttered out, her voice cutting in and out in fear. The arm around her middle shifted, the hand splaying across her torso. Her legs began to tremble as a pair of lips trailed down her neck before pausing at her ear.

“Now where’s the fun in that, hm?” he chuckled. The strange man loosened his hold some, beginning to walk backwards with her. Her eyes flickered to her heels only a bit away from the two of them. Should she risk it? If he was the one responsible for the mess in the bathroom, chances are he was armed and more than capable of using his weapon. But if she didn’t try, would her fate still be the same? ‘Focus, (Y/n). You only have one shot.’ Without waiting a moment more, (Y/n) dropped her weight to the ground, quickly shimming across the carpeted floor. His arm gripped her leg, dragging her closer to him causing her to scream, jabbing the heel into the space between his neck and shoulder. The man groaned, falling back onto the ground.

“Fuck!” he screamed out. Turning towards the door, a man with brown hair stood in front of the doorway. He had on a cloak and what you assumed was fake blood. (Y/n)’s eyes widened as she recognized him. Billy Loomis, a boy she had many classes with. He usually wasn’t very talkative but he was very helpful, always letting her borrow his notes when she missed school.

“Billy!” she exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him as she managed to scramble up from the floor. “Thank god, you’ve gotta help me! There’s a girl dead in the bathroom!” (Y/n) wailed out. Billy stayed silent, wrapping an arm around her waist. His expression was blank as he looked down at her. Confusion overtook the girl as she looked up at him. “Billy? We need to get help!” her fear rose to another level as he began to laugh, using his free hand to move a piece of hair from her face.

“Surely you didn’t think that was a one man job, Bunny. Come on, I know you’re smarter than that.” he cooed out in a faux sympathetic tone. (Y/n) felt her whole body shaking and if it wasn’t for Billy’s firm grip around her, she surely would’ve fallen to the ground. But, it wasn’t as if her current position was any better. Using his teeth, Billy pulled off his glove, caressing her cheek with a calloused hand before turning her around to face the other man. A gasp fell from her lips, another one of her peers, Stu Macher. The blonde was now standing, massaging the bruised spot where she had attempted to stab him. The severity of the situation was now looming over her. She was trapped in a room at a loud party, where no one would hear her screams, with the killers responsible for all the deaths that had occurred in the past month. “Since you’ve already gotten the trick, it’s only fair you get the treat too.”

“I-I’d hardly consider murder to be a treat.” she stuttered out. Both men looked at each other, sinister cackles leaving their mouths. Stu marched over to her, tilting her head up towards him.

“We’re not gonna kill ya, Bunny. But I don’t doubt you’ll be screaming like we were!” he exclaimed in his gravelly tone. (Y/n) found herself relieved until she realized what he meant. They were planning to have their way with her and if she was honest, she wasn’t exactly opposed to the idea. Having sex with two of the hottest guys in senior year versus being brutally murdered like Jessica had? She’d choose the first any day. Jessica would get her justice but, it wouldn’t be from her. She was dragged from her thoughts as Billy’s large hands began to toy with her breast over her bodysuit.

Her eyes flit close, lips parting as a soft moan fell from her lips. She could hear Stu growl before feeling his soft lips on hers, catching her off guard. She quickly reciprocated, allowing him to lead the kiss as he began to violate her mouth. The feeling of his tongue piercing was new and foreign, making the intoxicating motions of his tongue even more sinful. The blonde grabbed her hand, moving it to the tent present in the front of his pants. If his bulge was any indicator of the size, she was surely in for a treat. Stu’s hand traveled to the crotch of her bodysuit, massaging her cunt over the velvety fabric, rippling a muffled whine from her lips. The wetness grew, leaving a dark mark where his hands were working magic. He pulled away from her lips, his eyes focusing in on it. Her face grew warm with embarrassment. Had she always gotten worked up so easily or was the danger she was in adding to her arousal? Billy gripped her jaw, forcing her to look down as Stu toyed with her.

“Don’t get shy now, Bunny. You weren’t when you made the decision not to wear any underwear with this little get up.” Billy said in a disapproving tone. His free hand moved to pull the front of her suit down some, revealing her breast to the two of them. Stu whistled some before flicking her hardening nipple on her left breast.

“You’re so reactive! I bet it won’t take much to get ya to cum will it, Bunny?” He commented before latching onto her breast. A shuddery breath left her mouth at the sensation. The ball of his cold tongue piercing swirling around her nipple with hunger. Billy removed his hand from her face, trailing it down her chest before engulfing her remaining breast with a firm grip.

He massaged it in a circular motion before pinching her hardened bud. (Y/n) moaned, resting her weight back on Billy’s chest. Reaching her free hand back, she began to play with the short hairs at the nape of his neck, giving Stu’s now fully erect cock a firm squeeze. The blonde growled, tugging on her nipple gently, sending a wave of pleasure to her throbbing clit. He pulled away from her chest with a pop before dropping to his knees, spreading her legs. She watched as his hands ripped at the fabric, leaving a large hole in her tights and bodysuit. His left hand massaged at her clit slowly in contrast to his right hand which roughly shoved two thick digits into her sopping hole. (Y/n) winced at the intrusion, the pain short lived as his fingers expertly massaged at her walls. A string of high pitch noises left her as he scissored his fingers inside her, stretching her out.

Billy tilted her head towards him, taking her into a sloppy open mouth kiss. His tongue overtook hers with ease as he gripped her throat roughly, leaving her with little air. He nipped at her bottom lip before pulling away, looking into her eyes intensely. She felt like a captured prey and at the moment, she technically was. But, even as he wrapped his hand around her neck firmly, she couldn’t find it in her to care. “I want your eyes on me as you cum. Don’t you dare look away.” he commanded in a deep tone. (Y/n) nodded to the best of her ability, staring into his dark eyes. They examined her face carefully, taking in every flinch and quiver of her lips. His arm tightened around her waist as her knees began to buckle. With every thrust of Stu’s fingers, she could feel herself growing closer.

Her (e/c) eyes struggled to stay open as he began to suck at her clit, his tongue licking up every bit of arousal that spilled from her. Stu’s fingers disappeared into her deeper, curving upwards until he hit that spongy spot inside of her. (Y/n)’s eyes widened, her lips parting as another loud moan ripped from her. “There it is!” Stu growled out before delving his head back down, his fingers applying more pressure to her g-spot as his lips sucking on her clit with an entirely new level of strength.

The contrast of his fast working tongue combined with the languid feeling of his fingers massaging her spot was enough to send her over the edge. Her legs began to shake violently, labored breaths causing her chest to rise and fall like crashing waves. Billy’s grip on her throat tightened, reminding her of his words. She struggled greatly with keeping her eyes open as pleasure washed over her, the knot in her stomach unraveling completely. Tears of pleasure streamed down from the intensity of it all, her lips quivering as she whimpered pathetically. She had never experienced an orgasm so intense, so prolonged before. Her pussy was unbearably sensitive, a new feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Billy smirked, wiping her tears with his thumb before bringing it to his lips. Her eyes widened as a gush of clear liquid began to gush from her in a long stream, soaking Stu from below her. Billy took his eyes from her to watch, groaning at the sight, her cunt continuing to squirt. Her eyes clenched shut as she screamed in pleasure. She was already reaching her limit and they hadn’t even gotten to fucking her yet. The flow came to a gradual stop, her body jolting in after shocks as she panted.

The girl felt her body being lifted, the feeling of the soft bed returning under her. Billy slapped her face, her eyes flying open in alarm. “You’re not tapping out already. The fun hasn’t even started yet.” he teased. (Y/n) groaned, propping herself up on shaky elbows. The two men were now nude from the waist down, their cocks fully erect. Her eyes followed Billy as he climbed onto the bed behind her, pulling her towards him with ease. His cock was wedged between her open legs, giving her a closer look. What he lacked in length, he certainly had in girth. “It’s a shame that tail on your ass isn’t a plug because,” he pushed her forward, ripping the tail from the back of her bodysuit, leaving a clean hole where her butt was, “You’re really gonna wish it was.” Before she could climb away, he pulled her back into his lap, aligning the tip of his cock with her rear. Her eyes widened at the feeling of his thick head pressed against her virgin hole.

Any protest she had fell onto deaf ears as the tip of his cock pushed in. He was nowhere near fully in yet but the burning was so painful. It felt as if he was splitting her in half, forcing his thick cock into her unexplored hole. Her throat was growing raw as she screamed, only seeming to egg him on. She was so out of it that she completely missed Stu’s presence, holding her legs up as he aligned himself with her front. Her teary eyes shot open as his cock slid into her cunt with one swift motion, his head thrown back in pleasure. Billy was now fully situated inside of her, the burning of her ass a bit more dull but still present. She could feel them both pressed against the thin wall separating them, the feeling was indescribable. And despite the pain, she couldn’t recall a time she had felt so much pleasure.

“You’re so pretty when you’re screamin’, Bunny. Couldn’t resist shoving my cock into you.” Stu said through gritted teeth, folding her legs back as he began to thrust into her. Billy wrapped his arms around her waist with a bruising force, holding her up just an inch above his lap as he began to pound her at an assaulting pace. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth lazily. She was aware she was babbling, but her brain was completely disconnected from her body. Stu pulled his cock mostly out before slamming back into her, the three of them moaning in unison. With each movement, their cocks brushed against the thin lining of her walls, sending a volt of pleasure straight to her clit. The blonde leaned over her open mouth, spitting directly into her mouth. She began to choke, gasping for the air that seemed to no longer be present in the room.

“Don’t be-be rude, Bunny. Swallow it like a good girl. Here, I’ll help you.” Billy said, sticking his fingers down her throat. (Y/n) gagged, swallowing around his fingers. The brunette growled, looking at her with hungry eyes. Stu whimpered, his hips stuttering a bit as he looked upon, his cock twitching inside of her.

“Oh fuck!” he whined out. He was close, but he refused to be the first one to come. Moving one of his hands, he began to rub at the girl’s clit roughly, his thrust growing more sloppy. (Y/n) screamed around Billy’s fingers, her eyes rolling back into her head. Her holes began to pulsate around their cocks, causing them to let out a string of swears. “She’s close, Bill.”

“You’re almost there, Bunny. Make a mess on our cocks. Be a good fucking girl!” and right on cue, (Y/n) felt herself snap. Her pussy began to gush around Stu’s cock as she sobbed, her mascara running down her face. She began to thrash in their hold, rabid speaks of tongue flying out of her mouth. Billy removed his fingers from her mouth, choking her harshly as he buried himself deep in her ass, hot streams of cum filling her to the brim. Stu came only a millisecond after, burying his face in her chest as he painted her walls white, collapsing on top of the pile. Their cum spilled out of her, making its way onto the fleece blanket. None of them noticed as they panted, two pairs of hands trailing along her body.

Stu pulled himself up on shaky arms, hovering above her. (Y/n) looked up at him through blurry vision as he gently moved her hair back, adjusting the pair of ears on her head.

“How’s that for a treat?”

#scream imagine #scream #stu x reader x billy #billy loomis x reader #billy x reader x stu #stu macher x billy loomis #billy loomis x stu matcher #stu macher x reader #stu macher x reader x billy loomis #stu macher x y/n #stu macher x you

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avatar-anna · 2 years ago

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I have a requeeestt. Would you write something where ice skater y/n has her period and she has practice and it’s just NOT her day. And she doesn’t feel super comfortable telling Harry but he figures it out and just like pure fluff 🙊💗

Grumpy

part one, part two, bonus, bonus, bonus

Harry's girlfriend was a delight. An absolute ray of sunshine. The sweetest human on the plan—

"Fuck off, Niall. I bet your 'superior athleticism' wouldn't last you one ballet class."

Most of the time. She was a ray of sunshine most of the time.

Harry looked up from his phone and saw Y/n talking to a few of his teammates. They were all snickering and laughing as if what she said was funny, which only made her fists curl at her sides, and while he would've found it rather entertaining for her to take a swing at one of them, he would rather not have his friends and girlfriend be on bad terms.

"You ready to go?" Harry asked, sliding his hand over Y/n's and unfurling her fist.

Her face was set in a scowl as she looked over at the boys she'd been speaking to. For the most part they got along great, Niall specifically. They had a sibling-like relationship and often teased one another, but Niall must've said something about figure skating, and that was one thing that would make you public enemy number one in Y/n's eyes. And if she was already grumpy? Harry met his friend's gaze and tried to send a clear message with his eyes: Cut it out.

Because Y/n could throw a punch, and while she was significantly smaller than his teammates, she had a mean right hook.

Y/n gave Harry a nonverbal grunt that she was ready to leave the rink. But she did lean into the tiny kiss he placed on her cheek, which was something.

"Yeah, Harry, take your girl home. I think she's on her period or something."

"Excuse me?"

"Okay, time to go," Harry said quickly, pulling Y/n away from his teammates and sending one final look at Niall.

As they walked to the car, Y/n handed her keys to Harry unceremoniously and slipped her hand out of his to cross her arms over her chest. He could practically see the steam coming out of her ears, so he let her stew in her bad mood for a little while. She must've had a rough training session, which could mean she messed up a lot or hardly at all, but Y/n was an extremely tough critic, so it was hard to be sure of which one if he wasn't there to watch.

Y/n's arms stayed crossed as they drove back to his apartment. Harry was fine with it, knowing the grumpiness wouldn't last. It normally didn't with Harry, a fact that he was extremely proud of. Except when he rested his hand on her thigh—close to her knee, he wasn't trying to start anything—she shook it off and shifted so her body faced the window.

"What was that for?"

"For being friends with neanderthals," she muttered. "Especially that one."

"'That one' is your friend, bub," Harry said, trying to keep the amusement out of his voice. "And wait—does that make me a neanderthal?"

"He was out of line. And no," she said, still facing the window, the last part almost an afterthought.

"I'll make sure he apologizes," he promised.

Harry leaned over at a stop light to kiss Y/n's temple. She didn't shrug him off or push him away, which was a good sign, though Harry now had a sneaking suspicion of what was going on. He didn't say anything the rest of the drive, happy to let his girlfriend be grumpy for the rest of the drive. As long as it wasn't directed at him, he was fine.

When they arrived, Harry shouldered both of their bags and handed her the keys to his apartment. "Go ahead and get in the shower. I'll meet you in there in a few minutes."

At that, he could practically see Y/n's grumpy facade start to crumble, but she nodded wordlessly and trudged up the stairs. Harry followed suit, setting their bags down and rustling through his small kitchen, trying to remember where he kept the emergency stash of her favorite snacks.

He realized that it was probably Y/n's time of the month. She became particularly moody around then, and it only took a couple minutes for Harry to put the pieces together. Should Niall have said anything? No, but the fact that he was right probably pissed Y/n off even more.

Harry grabbed a few things before heading down the hallway, the sound of water running growing louder as he got closer to the bathroom. He headed to his room first, setting Y/n's snacks and a couple other things down before kicking off his shoes and leaving to join Y/n like he promised.

"Need some help?"

Y/n was just standing beneath the spray coming from the shower head, not washing her hair or her face, the first steps in a detailed routine. She shrugged as he stepped into the shower, his hands smoothing over her shoulders before kissing the top of one gently.

"What's hurting?" he asked, continuing to snake his arms around her to hold her close.

"My boobs, my back, my ego, and I have the worst cramps," she huffed, but Harry detected the slight shift in her voice. Now that they were alone, she was trying not to cry. "He should try playing his precious sport while his uterine lining is shedding."

"I know," Harry said, reaching for the shampoo she used and squirting some in his hand. "Scalp only, right?"

Y/n nodded, some of the tension leaving her body when he started massaging the shampoo into her scalp. He worked slowly, trying to let the day wash off of her, murmuring to her and kissing parts of her body occasionally. When the actual bathing part of the shower was over, Harry turned Y/n around to face him, his kisses becoming more drawn out, sensual. His hands were soft, but firm, trying to knead away the soreness in her breasts and back.

Y/n sighed, eyes fluttering closed as she leaned into his touch. Both of them could feel him growing hard, it was hard not to give the circumstances, but neither of them said anything about it. Harry wasn't really focused on himself at the moment.

"Want me to use the shower head?" he asked.

Y/n shook her head. "I want you."

"Yeah?"

Peeking one eye open, she said, "Don't be so smug about it."

Harry chuckled softly and reached a hand up to hold one side of her face. "Me? Never."

For the first time all afternoon, Y/n grinned, but it quickly turned into a frown. "We can't."

"Baby, we're in the shower."

"Still, I think it's gross." But even as she said it, she moaned when he began to kiss her again.

They had this debate every time Y/n was on her period, but Harry always managed to find some way around it. For her sake, not his. He knew they both wanted to, but Y/n never believed him when he insisted he didn't mind if she was on her period. His solution was usually the detachable showerhead, but she didn't seem to want that this time.

"Here," Harry said, an idea sparking. He sat down, the tiles cold against his skin as he brought Y/n down with him. She didn't follow though, staying standing, her arms crossed over her body. "Would you get down here? I promise I won't even look. See?"

Harry covered his eyes with one hand, then raised them to show that his eyes were closed underneath.

"You promise you won't look?"

"Won't even watch you come, which is arguably my favorite part," Harry said, only half teasing.

He kept his promise to keep his eyes closed, so he couldn't tell if or when Y/n decided, though when he felt her settle over his lap, he had a pretty good idea. She draped herself over him, tucking herself close to him when he was fully settled inside her. Harry couldn't tell if she just wanted to sit like this or if she wanted more, but all he got was a contented sigh in his ear, which didn't really help.

"Okay, you can go now," Y/n said after a few minutes had passed, voice soft and a little slow as if she'd just woken up from a long nap.

Harry couldn't help but laugh a little. "I have to keep my eyes closed and do all the work?"

Y/n only nodded, not moving from where she was tightly hugging him. Harry was amused, but not all that surprised. She despised the term, but Y/n was without a doubt the textbook definition of a pillow princess. She had a pretty tough exterior, but once they were alone, she melted, becoming more needy and letting Harry take control. She liked being praised for taking all of him and behaving for him. His good girl, Harry once called her, and after she lit up from it, he called her that anytime they were intimate. He thrived off of it, Y/n's eagerness to please and the way she let him have his way with her.

Harry maneuvered himself a little, earning a few gasps and whimpers from Y/n. When he finally found a good enough position to hold her while not slipping on the slick tiles, he nudged the side of her cheek with his nose.

"I need at least a kiss first." He was keeping his word, so his eyes were still shut, but when Y/n slotted her lips over his and gripped the wet curls that were pressed to the nape of his neck, he grinned, focusing on the sensation of her kiss. With his eyes closed, Harry felt everything. Every shift of her hips, every clench she made around him, it was almost torturous, but he held off driving into her until he thought she was ready. "Thank you, bub. Be as loud as you want, okay?"

That only made her squeeze him tighter, and Harry took that as his signal to get started. It was slow as he tried to find the right rhythm, listening closely to how Y/n was reacting. Usually he was able to tell by the little faces she made, but he went off her sounds and how hard she squeezed her arms around his neck.

Harry murmured in Y/n's ear the whole time, letting her know how good she felt around him and to touch herself however she wanted. By the end of it, she was all molten limbs and tired, satisfied eyes, kissing all over his face as he smoothed back her hair. Harry gave her a couple minutes to come back down from her high before he helped her stand back up and let her get dressed while he showered properly.

Later that night, Y/n was sleeping in Harry's bed, a heating pad strapped to her back while she stayed tucked into his chest. They'd watched a couple movies and eaten her favorite snacks, and at one point Y/n crawled into his lap to ride his thigh when she claimed she needed another orgasm. Harry was happy to give her one, happy to let her use him how she liked, though he had to help her hips along after a couple minutes.

All the grumpiness from earlier was gone. She had nothing but kind words and sweet nothings and little jokes she mumbled to him as they continued watching a show they started together, which was when she promptly fell asleep. Harry was right behind her, he just had to send a text first.

Y/n's ballet training is at 8am on Wednesday. Be there.

Harry had promised Y/n Niall would apologize, and he couldn't think of a better way than his friend struggling to plié. He didn't need to add or else or any other kind of threat. It was unnecessary. Niall had pissed off Y/n, and he knew Harry would make him pay if he didn't make it right.

After sending the text he set his phone down and settled deeper into the pillows. Y/n shuffled around a little, then murmured, "Little spoon."

Harry understood immediately, turning over so she could wrap her arms around him and rest her cheek on his back. With that, Y/n fell back asleep, and Harry gave one last kiss to her knuckles before following suit.

#harry styles #hockey player!harry styles #ice skater!y/n #hockeyrry #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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